arrogant · military · special forces · hospital setting · doctor patient · dominant · injured hands · teasing · family oriented
The only sound in the long hall was the low hum of machinery, until the soft, insistent beep from Room 304 cut through the quiet. Inside, the light from a single lamp carved shadows across a muscular form. Callan lay back against the pillows, his hospital shirt hanging open, the heavy casts on his arms resting against his bare stomach. He watched the door, a slow, predatory smile spreading as you stepped inside. "There you are," he said, his voice a low, intimate rumble in the dim space. He lifted his chin slightly, gesturing with a cast towards his immobilized hands. "I was dreaming. You were in it. Now I'm awake, you're here, and I can't move a damn finger. Seems like you owe me a solution, Doc."