Chapter Text
Mel had only been on Tinder trying to scratch an itch. Becca was too busy with her boyfriend lately, leaving too much free time for Mel to realise how lonely she was. The thing is, she didn’t really know what she wanted. She’d had a few boyfriends in the past, although they felt more like acquaintances that occasionally had sex. Samira had persuaded her to download tinder and give it a go. So last week, she racked through the few photos she had of herself and set a profile up. She’d had a few matches, a few messages here and there. The past few days however she’d been speaking to Freddie. He was a research student at a University in Pittsburgh. Same age as her, similar interests, good looking enough that she wasn’t turned off. They were both clearly looking for the same thing, someone to kill some time with, and Freddie seemed like a decent enough distraction. Their chats had turned more and more sexual over the past few days, and tonight when things turned dirty and he asked for a photo, she went for it. She’d had a few glasses of wine which were making her bold. So she took her glasses off, making her feel less like herself, and turned the lights low. She’d started tame at first, underwear, half covered photos. Once she’d got the courage she snapped a full nude: lying back on her bed, legs slightly spread, one hand cupping her breast, the other between her thighs. It was explicit. She was shaking at this point, she wasn’t sure why. Nerves, alcohol, hormones? However this mixed with the fact she still didn’t have her glasses on led to a pretty huge issue. Her and Freddie had been talking over text the past few days instead of tinder. Therefore when she clicked the message icon to send the picture, she may have sent it to the wrong F. Unfortunately, there was only one other F in her phone, Frank Langdon. However she hadn’t noticed until she got a message from him a few moments later.
Frank: Jesus Christ, Mel.
Frank: That was meant for me?
“No… no. This can’t be real” Mel screamed internally.
Mel: OH MY GOD. No.
Mel: Accident. I am so embarrassed. Please delete it right now. Please don’t fire me.
Frank: Done, and just so you know. I don’t have that kind of power.
Mel could barely catch her breath before he sent her another message.
Frank: You alright? You’ve clearly been drinking.
Mel: Yeah. Wine and bad decisions. I was sending it to some guy I’ve been talking to.
Mel: Can we never speak of this again?
Frank: Whatever you want.
Frank: Just so you know though… you look really fucking hot in that picture.
Mel: Frank.
Frank: I’m just being honest, he’s a lucky guy.
Frank: Night, Mel.
They stopped texting. Mel cringed under her covers for the next few hours, equal parts humiliated and weirdly turned on that he had seen it. She didn’t message Freddie again that night, all she could think of was Dr Langdon, and the fact that he’d seen her like that.
She was still tossing around in bed trying to sleep when her phone pinged.
Frank: Are you still awake?
Mel: Yeah. Can’t sleep after that embarrassment.
Frank: I’ve been trying to sleep too. Failing.
Frank: I keep thinking about that picture. I know I should delete it… but I haven’t.
This made Mel sit up straight in panic. What does this mean?
Mel: Frank…
Frank: I’m not trying to make this weird.
Frank: But I can’t get it out of my head. The way you looked. How confident you were in it.
Mel: It was supposed to be private.
Mel: This is mortifying.
Frank: Don’t be embarrassed. You have no reason to be.
Frank: It’s been a long time since I’ve been that distracted by someone.
Mel’s heart was beating faster. There was no way this was happening.
Mel: Distracted how?
Frank: You really want me to say it?
Frank: I’ve been lying here replaying it. Your curves, the lighting on your skin… it’s doing things to me.
Mel: What kind of things?
Frank: Getting me worked up. Harder than I should be at this hour.
Frank: I keep wondering what you were thinking about when you took it.
Mel: …I was turned on. Feeling bold.
Frank: Yeah?
Frank: Are you still feeling that way now?
Mel: A little. Mostly nervous that you saw me like that.
Frank: You should know it looked incredible.
Frank: If you feel like sending another one… I wouldn’t complain. Only if you want to.
She hesitated, was she really going to do this. The rational side of her brain knew how bad of an idea this was. He was technically her senior, they work together. She has to spend 12 hours working with him tomorrow. However the very sex deprived part of her brain took over and she got up to take a new photo — similar angle, but more revealing, her hand lower on her body. She sent it.
Frank: Fuck, Mel.
Frank: You’re killing me here.
Frank: Look at you… that body. I’m actually aching looking at this.
Mel: Good ache or bad?
Frank: Very good. I’ve got my hand on myself right now because of you. Slowly stroking while I stare at your pictures.
Mel: God… that’s hot.
Mel: I’m touching myself too. Thinking about you looking at me.
Frank: Yeah? Keep going.
Frank: Tell me what you’re doing. I want to picture it.
Mel: My hand between my legs… circling slowly. I’m really wet.
Frank: Christ.
Frank: I’m imagining how warm and soft you’d feel. How you’d sound if I was the one touching you instead.
Mel: I want that.
Mel: Keep telling me what you’d do.
Frank: I’d take my time with you. Hands all over. Kissing down your body until my mouth replaces your fingers.
Frank: I’m stroking faster now just thinking about how you’d taste.
Mel: Frank… This is getting dangerous.
Frank: I know. But I don’t want to stop unless you do.
Frank: Send me a short video of your hand moving. I need to see it.
Mel bit her lip, nerves and arousal fighting each other. She recorded a ten-second clip — her fingers slowly gliding between her wet folds, soft breathing audible — and sent it.
Frank: Fuck…
Frank: That’s so hot. The way your fingers shine. I can hear how wet you are.
Frank: Give me a second.
A minute later, Frank sent back a photo: his hand wrapped around his thick, hard cock, veins visible, the head glistening. It was taken from above, his abs slightly flexed.
Frank: See what you’re doing to me? I’m leaking for you.
Mel audibly moaned, she would be lying if the thought of him like this had never entered her mind, but now it’s a reality, she didn’t know how to handle it.
Mel: God, Frank… you’re really big.
Mel: I can’t stop staring.
Frank: Yeah? Keep touching that pretty pussy while you look at it.
Frank: I want another video. This time show me two fingers inside you.
Mel moaned softly as she obeyed, sliding two fingers in and out while recording a shaky 15-second video. She sent it.
Mel: I’m so wet it’s dripping down my thighs. I wish it was you inside me.
Frank: Jesus Christ.
Frank: I’m pumping my cock faster now. Watching you fuck yourself with your fingers.
Frank: You’d feel so tight around me.
He sent a short video in return: his fist moving up and down his shaft in steady strokes, his breathing rough and low.
Frank: Listen to how hard I’m breathing for you. Keep going, Mel. Rub your clit for me.
Mel: I am… circling it fast.
Mel: I’m getting close already.
Frank: Good. Don’t stop.
Frank: I’m imagining sucking on those tits while I thrust into you.
Frank: Send me one more picture. Spread your legs wider.
Mel positioned herself, legs open, fingers buried inside, and snapped the photo. She sent it.
Frank: Perfect fucking view. I’m so close…
Frank: Rub faster. I want you to cum thinking about my cock sliding into you.
Mel: I’m right there… fuck, Frank.
Mel: Are you gonna cum too?
Frank: Yeah. Stroking so hard for you right now.
Frank: Cum with me, Mel. Let go.
The texts stopped for a couple of minutes as both of them chased their release.
Mel: Oh my god… I’m cumming…
Mel: [Short video of her trembling and moaning softly sent]
Frank: Fuck— me too.
Frank: [Video sent — his cock pulsing, thick ropes of cum landing on his stomach as he groans]
Frank: Holy shit, Mel.
Frank: That was intense.
Mel: Yeah… I’m shaking.
Mel: I can’t believe we just did that.
Frank: Neither can I.
Frank: Any, get some sleep sweetheart, I'll be seeing you in a few hours anyway.
Her stomach dropped at the thought. Everyone’s going to know, they’re going to see it on her face. God she’s going to get fired. However she can’t say she was as concerned as she should be, especially as him calling her sweetheart was making her want a round two.
The Emergency Department was still relatively quiet at 6:50 AM. Mel hasn’t ever dreaded walking into work as much as she does today. What if he regrets it? What if he was drunk? What if he hates me? All of the worst possible scenarios were entering her head as she walked into the ED. Mel walked into the break room and immediately felt the air shift the moment she saw Frank by the coffee machine. She froze for a second, then beelined for the fridge.
“Morning,” Frank said, his voice low.
“M-morning,” Mel squeaked, not even looking at him as she shoved her lunch inside.
Trinity and Mohan were already there. The usual banter was nonexistent. Frank looked like he wanted to say something, but after a few minutes of painful silence, Mel couldn’t take it anymore.
“Um, Dr Mohan?” she said, voice higher than normal. “Can I… can I talk to you for a second? Outside? Please?”
Samira nodded immediately. “Yeah, sure.”
They stepped into the hallway near the linen carts. Mel started pacing in a tiny circle, wringing her hands.
“Okay. Okay okay okay. This is so bad. I’m actually dying,” she whispered frantically. “You can’t tell anyone. Not even Dr Santos. Especially not Santos.”
Samira leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “I’m listening. What happened?”
Mel covered her face with both hands, then peeked through her fingers.
“I was on Tinder last night, like you told me to. I was talking to this guy Freddie. He started getting flirty and asked me to send him… a picture. A nude picture. So I did. It was really explicit. Like… legs open, hand on my chest, the whole thing. No filters. Full nudity.”
She was talking faster now, cheeks bright red.
“And I wasn’t wearing my stupid glasses and I’d had like two and a half glasses of wine and I just tapped the wrong name and sent it to Frank. To Frank! Of all the people on my phone!”
Samira’s eyebrows rose. “You sent Frank a nude?”
“Yes!” Mel hissed, waving her hands. “And at first he was really nice about it. Said he’d delete it, asked if I was okay. But then around 3 AM he texted again saying he couldn’t stop thinking about it and… and it escalated. Really fast. We started sending more pictures. Then videos. And talking about… what we wanted to do. And we both… you know. Finished. While texting each other.”
She groaned and pressed her forehead against the cool wall.
“I watched a video of him… doing it. And he watched me. I can’t look him in the eye.What is wrong with me?”
Samira let out a slow breath, clearly surprised but trying to stay calm for her sake. “Wow. Okay. That’s… a lot. You two have had this weird tension forever, but I didn’t think it would explode like this.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Mel whisper-yelled.
Samira laughed, “You two are joined at the hip, everyone can see it. I know it’s weird now but he clearly likes you, and I know you feel the same”.
“Well, maybe. But I thought I’d just keep ignoring it forever. Now I have to work a twelve-hour shift knowing exactly what his— nope. Not finishing that sentence. I’m mortified.” At that exact moment, the lounge door opened.
Frank stepped out into the hallway, clearly looking for them. He stopped short when he saw Mel and Samira standing close together. His eyes flicked between them.
“Everything alright out here?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. His gaze lingered on Mel a second too long.
Mel straightened up so fast she nearly hit her head on the wall. “Y-yeah! Totally fine. Just… uh… asking Dr Mohan about… um… that thing. With the… supply order. Yeah.”
Frank’s jaw tightened. He nodded once, but the tension radiating off him was obvious. “Right. Supply order.”
Samira cleared her throat, clearly trying not to smile at how painfully awkward this had become. “We should probably head in. Huddle’s starting soon.” None of them moved right away.
Frank looked at Mel again. She looked back for half a second before dropping her eyes to the floor, cheeks burning crimson. The memory of last night’s texts hung between them like a live wire.
“Yeah,” Frank finally said, voice rough. “We should go.”
He turned and walked back into the lounge first. Mel let out a tiny, mortified whimper once he was gone.
“Oh my god. He knows I was just telling you. I’m going to pass out. They’re going to find me on the floor during the first round and think I have sepsis.”
Samira patted her shoulder gently. “Breathe. It’s awkward as hell right now, but you’ll survive. Just… maybe you two should actually talk at some point today. When there aren’t twenty other people around.”
Mel nodded weakly. “Yeah. Maybe. If I don’t die first.”
They headed back inside. Frank was standing by the table, arms crossed. He didn’t look at her this time. Santos narrowed her eyes on all three of them. “You guys are being so fucking suspicious today.”
Thankfully, Dana poked her head in right then. “Huddle time, team. Let’s go.”
Mel risked one quick glance at Frank as they filed out. He was already looking at her — dark, intense, and full of everything neither of them could say in the middle of the ED.
The first few hours had gone quick, she had managed to keep out of Frank's way for most of the morning by offering to go on triage this morning. No one ever offers to do that, so he clearly knew something was up. However when a multiple trauma was incoming, she had no choice but to suck it up.
As the casualties came in, they both worked on a woman in her 50s. She’d got in between a car pile up and she was beat up pretty badly. They worked silently but fast, both understanding the importance of their job over whatever was going on between them. However once the woman was stable and sent up to CT, it was just the two of them left in the trauma suite, cleaning themselves up.
Silence filled the room for what felt like an eternity before Frank spoke.
“Good work over there, that was pretty touch and go for a while, you did a great job” Frank spoke as he walked closer to her to wash his hands in the sink behind her.
“Thanks, you too,” Mel answered, her voice a bit too quiet.
“Listen, about last night” Frank began to speak, however the cleaner came in at that exact moment. He moved closer to whisper slightly.
“Meet me in the locker room at 10, we need to talk” Frank whispered in her ear, making her whole body erupt in goosebumps.
The cleaner’s arrival gave her a momentary reprieve, but Mel’s heart was already hammering against her ribs. She nodded quickly, not trusting her voice, and watched Frank’s broad shoulders disappear through the doors.
The next hour dragged like wet concrete. Every time the clock ticked closer to ten, her stomach flipped. What if he regretted it?
At 9:58 she slipped into the locker room, praying it was empty. It was. The overhead lights buzzed faintly. She paced once, then leaned against the cool metal of her locker, arms folded tight across her chest like that could hold everything in. The door clicked open.
Frank stepped in, hair slightly mussed from the trauma cap he’d been wearing earlier. He scanned the room to make sure they were alone, then locked the door behind him with a quiet snick that somehow sounded louder than it should. For a second neither of them spoke.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said finally, voice low.
“I wasn’t sure what the protocol is after you send your senior a video of your fingers inside of you at 3am.,” Mel answered, trying for sarcasm but landing somewhere between breathless and terrified.
Frank’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. He moved closer, stopping just inside her personal space. Close enough that she could smell the faint trace of antiseptic soap on his skin.
“I’m not really your senior anyway,” he said. “But that doesn’t matter.”
Mel swallowed. “Then what are you?”
“The guy who couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. The guy who jerked off twice before he could sleep.” His voice dropped even lower. “The guy who’s been half-hard since you walked in this morning.”
Heat flooded her face and pooled lower. She looked away, but he caught her chin gently, tilting her face back to him.
“I need to know if you regret it,” he said. “Because if you do, we bury it. Pretend it never happened. But if you don’t…” His thumb brushed her lower lip. “Then we need to decide what the hell we’re doing about this before it fucks with our work.”
Mel’s breath shook. She could feel the tension vibrating between them, thick enough to choke on. The memory of his last text—Fuck, Mel. You’re going to kill me—flashed through her mind.
“I don’t regret it,” she whispered. “I just… didn’t expect you to look at me like that today.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me.”
Frank let out a rough breath, almost a laugh. He stepped in until her back hit the lockers with a soft metallic thud. One of his hands braced beside her head.
“I do,” he admitted, eyes dark. “You have no idea. But I also wanted to make sure you’re okay. That we’re okay.”
The air felt too thin. Mel’s fingers curled into the front of his scrub top without conscious thought, pulling him that last inch.
“We’re not okay,” she said against his mouth. “But I don’t want to stop.”
Frank’s control snapped. He kissed her hard, one hand sliding into her hair, the other gripping her waist. It wasn’t gentle or careful—it was months of stolen glances and careful professionalism finally breaking. Mel moaned softly into his mouth as he pressed his body against hers, letting her feel exactly how not-okay he was. When they finally broke apart, both breathing raggedly, Frank rested his forehead against hers.
“Two minutes,” he murmured. “That’s all we’ve got before someone comes looking. But we need to talk, properly”
Mel’s lips curved, pulse racing. “Becca is with Adam again tonight, we can order pizza if you want?”
He nodded, stealing one more slow kiss. He stepped back reluctantly, adjusting himself with a grimace that made her smirk. As he reached for the lock, he glanced back at her.
“Try not to look so well-kissed when you go back out there, Dr. King.”
She touched her swollen lips, eyes bright. “Try not to look so smug, Dr. Langdon.”
He grinned—the first real one she’d seen from him all day—and slipped out.
Mel leaned back against the lockers, heart thundering, already counting down the hours until shift ended.