Chapter Text
In spite of herself and her preferences, Mel King, an Emergency Resident for the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, has found herself at the shared house of Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker. She can already hear the laughter pouring from the small home as she mindlessly picks at one of her nail beds. In an attempt to be a pleasant guest, she’s shouldering a tote bag filled with small treats and a decent bottle of wine (not expensive, but decent to her standards). Instead of knocking, she hesitates. She still has time to go home and find some excuse to bail on them, again. She’d feel guilty about being here in the first place, but Becca had practically begged her to spend the night at the center, and her rag-tag group of friends and coworkers had managed to all end up with the next day off (perks of working with so many rotating med students and residents, she supposed).
"Um, going in or heading out?" A voice from behind her causes her to jump, and she accidentally picks her nail hard enough to cause it to bleed. She spins around to find the familiar face of Dr. Frank Langdon standing awkwardly two steps below her.
“Oh! Hi, Dr. Langdon. I was just —" She was going to finish with “about to leave”, but the front door swings open wildly.
"Mel! How long have you been out here? Did you knock? I swear Dennis keeps his damn stereo too loud. Can’t even hear when our friends get here!" Trinity is obviously inebriated. If Mel couldn’t already smell it, she’d be able to tell just by the sway and slight slur of her words. Trinity’s gaze slides beyond Mel and lands on Langdon. "Oh, hey Langdon. Did you bring dip like I asked?" Her tone is not as pleasant with Langdon as it was with Mel, but not unfriendly. Mel presumes they’d made up from their first day together.
Langdon chuckles lightly and holds up a plastic bag. "Yes, I wouldn’t show up empty handed with such a gracious host allowing me into her home."
Mel doesn’t move or speak, but she’s beginning to realize that she is the one preventing anyone from moving further. "Oh, sorry," she offers Langdon a small smile and shuffles past Trinity.
The warmth and soft lighting of the home provides a nice comfort to Mel. It helps her shake some of the nerves off, and she heads to the kitchen to drop off the snacks and put the wine on the counter with the other mix of beverages that the others have already brought (and opened).
She makes her way into the living room and finds Dennis Whitaker, Yolanda Garcia, Victoria Javadi, Samira Mohan, and Mateo Diaz crowded around the coffee table with a tense game of Monopoly taking place.
"Dammit! $1400 for rent? Seriously, Javadi, this is criminal. I swear, this cannot be considered fair housing!" Mohan reluctantly passes her hard-earned Monopoly money over to the smirking med student.
"What can I say? I played a lot of Monopoly in college. I like to think I’m a great landlord," she retorts. This gets a snort out of Mateo, and she not-so-subtly blushes.
It’s Yolanda’s turn now, Mel notices as the doctor picks up the dice with cold calculation in her eyes. Dennis, on the side of the table facing where Mel stands, perks up and waves her over. “Hey Mel!” He calls. "I’ve got space over here! We’re playing teams, but we can start a new game. It’s me and Mohan, Javadi and Mateo, Garcia and Trin, um, I guess we can do a three-man team," he trails off. Mel smiles and shakes her head, about to offer just watching (which is what she normally does, when she manages to come), but Langdon comes in from the kitchen behind her, and Dennis claps. "You and Dr. Langdon! It’s perfect. Everyone okay with restarting?"
Everyone except Javadi is. She’s not happy to give up on this round, which she was absolutely dominating, but acquiesces as the rest of the party shuffles to make space for the newcomers. Trinity comes in with two glasses and passes one off to Mel and Langdon. Based on smell, Mel can tell it’s the wine she brought, and she smiles at her colleague-turned-friend. She’s never really been one for beer or seltzer, as they never sit right with her stomach, and despite the closeness that they’ve all gained with one another from the shared trauma of working in emergency medicine, she doesn’t particularly trust herself not to act foolish under the influence of anything harder than a nice wine.
She and Langdon make their way to their newfound seats (a couple of couch cushions squished beside Dennis and Mohan). Trinity finds her way next to Garcia, her "totally platonic friend who also spends nearly every night with her and Dennis and, like, is totally platonic." Mel isn’t always great at keying in to personal relationships, but she sees the way Garcia stares for a moment longer than anything platonic would warrant, and she feels a small (tiny, really) pang of jealousy knowing that she does not have anyone to stare at her for too long, or brush her hair back behind her ear at potentially inappropriate times. She shakes the thought out of her head and turns to her new partner.
Langdon is already staring at her expectantly, and she worries if she missed something. "Sorry, did you ask me a question and I was totally spaced out?"
"I mean, yes," he laughs. "I was just wondering which piece you wanted to represent us on the battlefield. Looks like the thimble and dog are all that’s left." Mel considers her options and goes for the dog, raising it up to Langdon for his approval. He nods approvingly, then divvies up their shared funds. He leans in close (not too close), and whispers to her, "I play Monopoly with my kids every weekend that I have them. We’ve got this in the bag," his voice is soft and proud. Smirking, Mel leans in closer (still, not too close), and whispers, "I’ve played with Becca every Friday after Elf since we were kids."
Mateo coughs from the other side of the table. "You two plotting against us? I feel like this is unfair, the rest of us aren’t sober."
This causes Langdon to burst out in a sharp, loud laugh, which only mildly startles Mel. He raises his glass, and Mel follows suit. She still doesn’t doubt their ability to win, inebriated or not.
An hour and a half later, Javadi has threatened to flip the board for the fourth time this game. As they expected, Mel and Langdon are sweeping the competition. Whitaker and Mohan have already gone bankrupt, and Trinity and Garcia stopped paying attention about thirty minutes ago. This is the third time Mateo’s suggested to his teammate that they call it and surrender to the obvious winners.
"No!" Victoria has long since passed a polite and respectful tipsy and has gone straight to drunk. Mateo wraps an arm around her shoulders and whispers to her, calming her down. Mel feels that tiny (really, it’s nothing) pang again.
At the same time, Langdon ("Frank, really, just call me Frank.") leans in toward Mel. The wine has her flushed. "I think we broke Javadi," his breath smells like white wine and mint. She giggles (it’s the wine) and, without thinking, leans her head onto Langdon’s shoulder. If anyone notices, they don’t say anything, and Langdon doesn’t move.
From her seat, Trinity stretches her arms out. "Okay, I think that’s enough Monopoly for tonight. Mel and Langdon are obviously cheaters, preying on those drunker than they — them?" She looks at Garcia, who has barely sipped on her whiskey. "Anyone up for a movie? It’s barely even 10:30, so if anyone says they’re tired, we’re fist fighting in the street." This gets a laugh out of everyone. Suddenly everyone around Mel and Langdon are moving and grabbing spare pillows and blankets from the bedrooms and closets. It looks almost rehearsed to Mel and, okay, she’s probably on her fourth glass of wine, and her professed cutoff is usually two, and she laughs a bit too loudly. Langdon, who’s been on his phone checking in case Abby sent any updates regarding the kids, turns to look at her.
"What’s so funny, Dr. King?" He asks with a smile.
"Oh! Nothing is funny! It’s just, look at them, they look like they’ve got this down to a 'T' and, I don’t know, just kind of reminded me of a play or something," she’s babbling. She’s babbling on the shoulder of her senior resident - almost attending, and—
Mel straightens up so abruptly she nearly slams into Langdon’s head, startling him.
"I’m so sorry," she puts her head in her hands. Langdon gives her a thoroughly concerned look.
"For?"
"I was resting on your shoulder and being totally inappropriate and—" Her thoughts are racing and her face feels hot. Langdon is one of her favorite colleagues and friends, and she’s just noticed how clingy and touchy she’s been this whole time.
"Mel, come on, you know I don’t mind. I’m probably the touchiest person here. Well, aside from Garcia with Santos." This results in a rather large pillow being chucked at his head from behind, courtesy of Trinity. This breaks the uncomfortable feelings that were building up in Mel, but only a little. She couldn’t bear to risk the friendship she’d been building with Langdon, especially since his return to the department after his rehab journey. After the initial awkwardness of his return, and her unfortunate lawsuit, the two of them began a nightly tradition of checking in with one another on their walk out. It was nice, and it helped keep Mel grounded on the worst of days.
After fifteen minutes of rearranging the Santos-Whitaker living room into one large pallet of blankets, pillows, and other assorted cushioned items (Whitaker has a surprising amount of Squishmallows, which Mel takes note of as they approach the holiday season), Mel finds herself squished between a gently snoring Mohan ("Lightweight!" Trinity had called her) and Langdon. He’s taken his Penguins sweater off with all the body heat in the room and is down to an old band t-shirt (not one she recognizes, she’ll have to have a listen) and swishy windbreaker pants. The sound of the soft brush of his leg against hers is calming. Mel has also abandoned her PTMC sweater, completely forgetting about the fact that she was wearing an old, bleach stained shirt from her high school band. She chastises herself, and makes a mental note to attempt to look a little more decent the next time she comes over. She smiles to herself at the concept of next time.
The original Transformers movie is playing on the absurdly large television, and everyone has settled into their spots. Whitaker has taken claim of the recliner, head buried in his phone. Javadi and Mateo are on the other side of the floor pallet. Her head is tucked onto his chest, and her eyes are obviously fighting off sleep. Mateo turns to kiss the crown of her head, and Mel quickly averts her eyes. Jesus, she’s lonely. She’s open to admitting that to herself. Between undergrad, med school, residency, and Becca, Mel has never allowed herself much of a love life. A few potential candidates came and went, but it was never something that left her fulfilled, only drained, and who had the time for that?
She feels Langdon shift next to her as he raises his arms to place them behind his head for comfort. Despite her brain telling her not to, she looks down toward his stomach to see his shirt lift ever so slightly to show off a tiny portion of his stomach. Jesus, Mel, she berates herself and turns her focus back to the movie. It’s not one that she’s seen since she was in grade school. Her mother had taken her and Becca to the movie theater to see it, but had to leave with Becca roughly twenty minutes into it due to the volume. Mel was fine watching it by herself. She smiles at the memory.
"What’s on your mind, Mel?" She hadn’t noticed Langdon looking at her. The light from the TV is all that illuminates the room, so she hopes he can’t see her blush.
"Just thinking about when I saw this in the theater. Went with Becca and my mom before she was too sick to go out. Just enjoying the memory," she whispers back to him.
"Oh, that’s nice. How is Becca doing? Meant to ask earlier, but got distracted by the need to destroy everyone in Monopoly," he’s turned his head to look at her more directly, and God do her cheeks feel warm.
"Hey! I heard that!" Mohan grumbles from the other side of Mel, who didn’t even realize she was awake. It makes her chuckle.
"Yeah she’s doing good. Been spending more time at the center. I don’t know if I told you yet, but she’s been spending more nights up there. I’m happy for her," she adds quickly. "It’s been an adjustment for sure, though."
Langdon nods. "I know you were both talking about it. I’m happy for her, I think it’ll be really good for both of you. If you ever start feeling like the place feels too empty, just know that me and Nala are only a text away, and we make great company."
Mel smiled. Nala, named by Tanner during his Lion King phase, was as sweet as she could be, and it was a bonus that Becca adored her. She’d have to invite them over on one of Becca’s nights home. "Thank you, Langdon. We’ll definitely have to set something up."
"Hey, Whisper Weirdos, do you mind? Megan Fox is on the screen and teenage Trinity is living her best life right now," Trinity tosses one of Whitaker’s innocent squishmallows directly onto Langdon’s face, getting a laugh out of everyone who’s still awake.
"My sincerest apologies to Teenage Santos," he says muffled underneath the stuffed animal. Mel moves to grab it, turning toward Langdon. It takes her more than a second to realize the position she’s put them in and blushes furiously before tossing the toy up to Whitaker, who catches it with minimal grace.
Langdon’s eyes search her face, and he bites his lip out of what Mel assumes must be a nervous habit. She quickly turns to lie on her back once more. Cursing herself for all the thoughts currently racing through her mind.
After the movie ends, Mel notices that everyone sans Whitaker is sleeping. Langdon’s head is facing toward her, and she notes that he has a very light whistle-snore. She’s not sure when he fell asleep, but his and Mohan’s warmth are slowly overheating her, so she gently sits up to look around. Whitaker looks up from his phone for the first time in at least an hour. He smiles, stretches, then stands.
"You want anything Mel? Snack, water, fresh air?"
She smiles. Whitaker — Dennis — has been a very good friend to her, especially over the past year. She’s very happy that he’s decided to stay with emergency medicine. She sees the excellent doctor inside of him, and is excited to see him grow.
"I’d love some fresh air, actually."
He nods, and extends a hand to help her navigate the sea of bodies that have found slumber on his living room floor. They make their way out to the back patio, with Whitaker snatching a pack of Oreo's from the end table before following her out.
"I’m glad you came tonight, Mel, we’ve missed you the past few hangouts. I haven’t asked in a while, but how is everything?" Dennis has made a much greater effort to support the people around him, often catching them after tough cases and taking a moment to listen, comfort, or sit in silence. Mel usually opts for the silence, and it’s always nice.
"It’s been good. Just busy. And, well, sometimes I feel out of place, but that’s my own internal thinking, nothing anyone has said or done or—"
"No, I totally get it," Whitaker cuts her off. He normally doesn’t unless he notices she’s about to go in a ramble, and sometimes it’s appreciated. This is one of those times. Mel is determined to get him an excellent Christmas gift this year.
"It can be kind of awkward when everyone seems to be coupling up and all gooey with each other," he continues. "But hey, me, Frank, and Samira are all still rocking team single!" Mel catches something in his tone that doesn’t exactly ring true, but she doesn’t call it out.
The wind picks up a bit outside, and Mel is regretting taking her sweater off, but she’s not ready to go back in. She’s seriously considering just slipping off to the comfort of her home and bed after Whitaker knocks out. The tradition for these events is that, usually, everyone spends the night and helps clean up and cook breakfast (by noon, based on their Snapchat stories), and Mel feels as though that portion just isn’t meant for her. She should be home. Doing. . . Something.
Whitaker is shivering more than her. “Ready to go back inside?”
"Not yet, I’ll be in soon"
He nods, then heads back in.
Mel’s not sure how long she’s out there before she hears the sliding door open again. She’s about to apologize to Whitaker for losing track of time, but she’s met by Langdon, who’s holding both of their sweaters. Mel can’t help but feel a bit flustered by the look of the sleepy man in front of her.
"Mel, it’s like, thirty degrees out here." His voice is hoarse from sleep and his hair is a mess. Suddenly, Mel does not feel cold. “Oh.”
"Here," he hands her the PTMC sweater and pulls his on. He looks at her, she can tell he’s trying to wake up a bit more. "You were in the band?" He nods towards her shirt. The Mighty Marching Stallions. She blushes and pulls her sweater on. "Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be ditching the sweater. Totally forgot I had this on. I played the clarinet." Langdon smiles and takes the seat next to hers.
"Trumpet for me," he beams. "I’m going to try and convince Tanner to play when he’s older. I loved it."
This perks Mel up. She doesn’t doubt for a second that Langdon was a cocky trumpet player, and she thinks to herself that she absolutely would’ve had a crush on him if they’d been in school together. Shaken at the odd thought, she starts to wonder if she has one on him now. She pushes that idea away quickly.
"So," Langdon leans over and bumps his shoulder with hers. "Any particular reason you’re out here freezing all by yourself at two in the morning?"
She hadn’t realized the time.
"Oh, well, Dennis and I came out here earlier. He got cold and I was going to go in, but it was very peaceful out here." She doesn’t notice Langdon shift a bit in his seat.
"Whitaker? Ah. Something illicit going on that I should be aware of?" His tone is teasing, but it doesn’t quite match his face.
"Illicit? With Dennis? I think whoever he’s been texting all night might be a better bet." She doesn’t know why on earth he’d assume that.
Langdon laughs. "He has been texting, like, nonstop since we started the movie, that’s true. Well, that’s good. Can’t have you in a scandal now, can we?"
Scandal? Would it be a scandal to engage in a relationship with a coworker? She supposes it could be, if it weren’t documented through HR with the appropriate paperwork and ground rules.
"Earth to Mel? Just a joke." Langdon stands and offers her his hand. He winces when her cold fingers wrap around his.
"Jesus, Mel, you’re freezing. Come on. I’ll be your personal space heater tonight."
The pair make their way back inside and back to their respective pallet spots. Except, Mohan is far more stretched out than before, leaving Mel a very tight spot to fit. She starts to offer the solution of her going home, it’s really not that far from here, but Langdon is already lying down and reaching toward her. This is fine, she thinks.
She squeezes in between Langdon and Mohan, trying her best to respect both of their personal spaces, but Langdon is already half asleep and rotates onto his side, pulling her closer to him.
One deep breath, two deep breaths. Mel begins to think over complex medical procedures to calm her racing mind. She can feel the rise and fall of Langdon’s chest against her back. One arm still draped over her midsection, she’s doing her best not to think about how much she likes feeling his hand on her. His breath hits the back of her neck, and she can feel her resolve on the situation crumbling. They’re just two tired, overworked coworkers. Sleeping with others has shown to reduce stress and improve sleep quality. These are the justifications she uses to relax into his embrace. This seems to please the sleeping man, as he hums softly and pulls her even closer. There’s not an inch of space between them, and Mel doesn’t care one bit.
Twelve minutes later, Mel King is fast asleep in Frank Langdon’s arms.
Dennis Whitaker comes out from his room about thirty minutes later, notices the pair cuddling in the same fashion as Mateo and Javadi and Trinity and Yolanda, and smirks. He pulls out his phone and opens his messages.
Dennis: you will never guess who’s cuddling each other right now
MR: shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s late.
Dennis: Totally not the point. Got thirsty. Guess!
MR: Totally not my business.
Three minutes later, his phone buzzes.
MR: Frank and King?
Dennis: YES