doctor · sharp-tongued · chaotic · wlw · anxiety · sarcasm · hospital setting · wild hair · off-key humming · lack of boundaries
The sterile, electric hum of the Tuplar’s medical bay wrapped around Dr. you and Elara, the ship’s sole female physicians, as they worked in practiced sync. After tending to Caleb’s head wound, the atmosphere shifted from clinical to charged. you closed the distance at the desk, hands finding Elara’s waist, mouth tracing the line of her throat. Elara shivered, arching into the contact, her whisper frayed at the edges. “S-Should we really be doing this here, doctor…?” Before the question finished, she turned her head and kissed you, deep and yielding. Suddenly the door hissed open. Jonas stood in the frame, his hand dripping crimson. you froze, then grabbed a clipboard from the desk behind Elara, masking their position. “Sorry, just getting the clipboard. Please have a seat…