Work Text:
“Sir, please stop moving.”
“I told you I’m okay—ah!”
Porco winced as a sharp pain shot from his injured midsection. The nurse gave him a knowing look, her eyebrows raised as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ Porco grunted and carefully leaned back to rest on the hospital bed. He would rather not push his luck right now, not unless he wanted to make the fresh wound worse and earn an earful from the sassy nurse as well.
She fixed his gauze, wagging a stern finger his way. “I’ll be back, don’t move.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Porco grumbled, his eyebrows scrunched. “I’m staying my ass put, got it.”
The nurse hummed, satisfied, before walking out of the room. Once the door closed, Porco sighed and shut his eyes momentarily. How could he be so stupid? Sure, Porco felt smug, flipping off a boomer driver who cut him off on the road. But looking away almost cost him his life, violently swerving away from an oncoming car and hitting the pavement hard.
Porco slapped one hand over his face, groaning. Someone briefly knocked on the door, and the injured man shouted, “Don’t worry, I didn’t fucking move!”
“I sure hope you didn’t.”
Against any reputable doctor’s—or his sassy nurse’s—advice, Porco sprung up straight, hissing loudly at his mistake. Yet, he fought through the pain and gritted out your name as though it was his lifeline. You ran to his side with concerned eyes. Porco almost jumped as he felt your gentle hand supporting him, the touch unlocking memories he pushed away months ago.
As the discomfort subsided, Porco stared at you. “What are you doing here?”
“The hospital called me,” you answered, pulling the chair by his bedside. Not once did you let go of him as you sat down. “Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact, so…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
A pregnant silence fell between you both. You realized your hand still cradled Porco’s shoulder and slowly slipped it away, ignoring how he tensed a bit. His heavy gaze soaked in your presence, almost as if he was trying to figure out whether you were real or not. The nurse didn’t say anything about a head injury. However, the loud pounding he felt was his heart that nearly burst out his chest when you finally looked at him, your eyes warm yet bashful. They reeled Porco in as he remembered how absolutely breathtaking they were.
“You look like shit,” you joked, breaking the ice.
Porco cracked a slight grin. “Feel like it, too.”
Both of you shared a laugh, the awkwardness melting away in the room. A familiar sense of comfort hung in the air, which made you relaxed. It was like old times again. You leaned back against the chair, shaking your head at him. He hadn’t changed one bit.
“I swear, you were always so reckless,” you said, teasing him a bit. “I’m surprised it took you this long to get into a motorcycle accident.”
It was true, though. Porco enjoyed living a bit dangerously with his bike, speeding through the empty streets with his crisp leather jacket and heavy combat boots. Whenever he took you on a midnight ride, your arms wrapped tightly around him so you wouldn’t fall over. You clung to Porco for dear life, finding comfort with him.
You felt his tensed muscles hiding underneath his black v-neck shirt, the same ones you always traced with your fingertips before drifting off to sleep. Your nose—pressed closely against his jacket—caught the intense scent of smoky auger wood with a hint of ginger spice that was overwhelming yet comforting. It reeled you in without fail, and you greedily took another sniff, a warm feeling spreading throughout your body.
Porco’s hearty laughs ripped through the air; he loved feeling you so close to him. You knew he did this on purpose, especially when he sped through the yellow lights like a racer trying to reach the finish line. He revved the engine that roared like a wild lion, and you squealed, your heart pounding throughout the night.
You cherished those memorable rides even more, the faint smile creeping on your face.
“Hey, I’m a pretty decent driver!” Porco scoffed and unconsciously scooted closer, smirking. “Besides, you never complained whenever I gave you a ride.”
“Well, you were my free ride home.”
“That’s all I was to you, huh?” Porco murmured playfully, his mind reminiscing those happy moments; he missed them so much that riding his bike wasn’t the same. Without thinking, Porco reached for your hand and caressed his thumb across your knuckles, confessing, “I wish I still was.”
You stared at Porco, mouth slightly agape and heart beating so uncontrollably that you were sure the patient monitor picked it up. There was no sense of hesitation or regret in his words, only truth. They rang through your head as his hazel eyes, burning with unwavering determination, sent a shiver down your spine. Even as Porco laid in bed, all battered and bruised, he pushed the pain aside to make his feelings loud and clear.
He wanted you by his side again.
You smiled faintly. “I wish you still were, too.”
“Wait, really—ah!”
“Porco!”
“I’m fine.” You shot him an unconvincing look. Porco leaned back on the pillows again, his eyes filled with a dash of hope. “But do you mean it? Are we…gonna give us a chance again?”
“I want to try.”
“Good, ‘cause the rides were getting lonely without you,” Porco grinned, surprising you with a sweet kiss. Your heart fluttered, melting into the kiss that brimmed with warmth and adoration—a heavenly feeling that ignited an old flame you thought had perished for good.
He pulled away, whispering, “I’ll always need you with me, okay? Always.”
“Me too.”
“Ahem.”
Both your heads snapped toward the doorway. The sassy nurse stood there, arms crossed, like a proud friend who helped orchestrate your lovely reunion. She strolled inside, the stethoscope dangling around her neck and badge swaying by her hip.
“I hate to interrupt your private moment, but,” she tapped her watch with an apologetic smile, “visiting hours are over. He’ll be ready for discharge tomorrow.”
You nodded. “Oh, thank you.”
“Would you like us to call you with the number listed on the emergency contact file?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” You turned to Porco and squeezed his hand. “Feel better, okay?”
“I don’t know, you’re leaving me here, so…”
“It’s only one night, Pock.”
You froze, shocked at how his nickname slipped out so naturally. Porco shot you a shit-eating grin, basking in the glorious sound that was like music to his ears. Screw the bland pain medication; he would rather have the doctor prescribe him this for his recovery instead.
You rolled your eyes before leaving the room. Porco sighed to himself—he already missed you. But he wasn’t completely alone yet. He felt the nurse’s stare and looked up to see her lips pursed together as if she caught him red-handed.
“What?”
“You moved, didn’t ya?”
“It was an accident—ah!”
Porco stayed still for the rest of the night and eventually drifted off to sleep with the most peaceful smile gracing his lips for the first time in months.