Work Text:
You heard Jim sigh heavily from his desk.
Dr. Jim Ellis seldom gets ill. As a doctor of internal medicine, he’s exposed to all the things, just like you are as his physician assistant. But that sigh sounded different. And after nearly a year of dating and now living together, you know what sighs mean from him.
You get up from your desk and walk over to wrap your arms around him. You feel his forehead, and it’s warm and sticky with sweat.
“Honey, I think you’re catching something. You’ve been running ragged for weeks, I think you need to rest,” you say quietly, kissing the top of his head, his hair curling at his temples from the sweat. He leans his face into your stomach, closing his eyes. He’s tired. He’s been mentoring residents, taking a full patient load, and balancing an overload of requests with this nasty flu that hit the community.
“I know, but you know how I hate to miss work,” he says, coughing. His voice cracks and you can tell his throat is sore, too.
You take your stethoscope off from your neck and tell him to sit still while you listen to his chest.
“I can hear a rattle in there, sweetheart. That’s not good. You need to rest, so this doesn’t turn into pneumonia,” you say, your eyebrows knitted together with worry. He nods in agreement. You take out an ear thermometer from your desk and take his temperature.
“101.3,” you read after it beeps. “You’ve got a fever. Nothing to mess around with. Let’s get you home.”
Fortunately, your shift is wrapping up so you get Jim down to your car to drive home. Once there, you strip him of his dress shirt, pants, and socks and order him to bed. You lean over to tuck him in, and he grabs your hand.
“I don’t know what I did when I felt this lousy before you were here,” he says, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. You lean down to kiss his beautiful lips. “I’ve got you, babe,” you say, fluffing his pillow and getting him the TV remote.
“OK, Cher,” he says with a laugh, followed by a cough.
“I’m going to go to the store and get some essentials for you. Are you hungry? What sounds good to eat?” you ask sweetly.
“You,” he says with a mischievous smile. Even when he’s not feeling well, he’s still putting on the charms.
“Ha-ha, Mr. Sickypants. I’m going to get some juice, soup, and ice cream so you can soothe that throat,” you answer. “If you want anything else, text me.”
As you close the door you hear him turn the TV on to a sports channel to catch up on the games he’s missed these last few days. You smile and head to the car to go to the store.
---
Once you’re home, you stop in the kitchen to put ice cream and juice away before making your way to the bedroom to check on Jim. As expected, the remote is in his hand, TV on a low murmur and he’s asleep, snoring lightly. While he slumbers, you check his temperature and listen to his breathing to make sure he’s not gotten worse. The temperature dropped a degree, fortunately, and his lungs still sound mostly clear, except for a light rattle.
Over the next couple of days, you make sure he takes his medicine, stays hydrated and fed, and cool him when his fever is spiking. You help him any way he can so he can stay in bed and rest.
“I’ll be your personal bed-and-breakfast manager until you’re well,” you say to him, sitting next to him and kissing him on his damp forehead. He grabs your hand before you get up to leave.
“Can we just cuddle for a little while? You’ve been working so hard taking care of me and at the hospital. I just want to hold you,” he asks with a pout in his voice. You nod and lay down with him and his long arms bring you close to his chest.
“You smell good,” he mumbles into your hair.
“I don’t know how that’s possible after working all day,” you reply with a blush.
“Because you’re a beautiful angel and beautiful angels smell good,” he mumbles in reply. You smile at how much you adore this man.
Within a couple of minutes, he’s fast asleep again, lightly snoring over your head.
You stay still for a few moments so as not to disturb him before you sneak out from his hold and pull the covers up to his shoulders, kissing him on the temple where his hair curls just so. I love the way his hair curls just so, you think.
---
As his PA you pick up some of his patients to make sure nothing falls through the cracks while he’s getting well. The other doctors' help, too. You work later than usual, staying long hours to do your share of work.
No matter how tired you are, your first goal is to check on Jim and get him what he needs. One night when you get home late, you’re tidying the bedroom and picking up clothes from the floor to add to the laundry basket and Jim sits up groggily, watching you without your knowledge for a few moments.
“God, I love you,” he says, startling you slightly.
“Sweetheart, oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say in a near whisper “I’m just tidying up. Go back to sleep and get some rest.” You take your laundry basket to the basement before trudging back upstairs with a heavy sigh. As you come back into the room, he’s still sitting up. “You’re so beautiful.”
You sigh, feeling absolutely less-than-beautiful after sweating and running around for 14 hours on your shift. You sigh, looking down at yourself -- the sweaty scrubs, your hair a mess, and you can feel your makeup has damn near worn off. He can read your face and your doubt.
“I know you don’t think so, but you are,” he says. You crawl next to him in bed and lean down to kiss him gently, putting your hand on his forehead.
“Feels like your fever broke. How are you feeling,” you ask. He nods. “Much better, actually. Thanks to my extremely sexy doctor.” He winks at you. A read of his temperature and a listen to his lungs and he sounds nearly back to normal.
“I think... you can go back to work soon,” you tell him. “But only if you feel back to normal! Don’t lie and tell me you’re fine if you’re not.”
He laughs. “OK, doc. I promise I’m feeling better.”
“Good. Then you’re cleared! You have my permission. But maybe take tomorrow off, just in case. Spend it with me,” you say with a smile, hopping off the bed.
“Where are you going?” he asks, concerned.
“Oh, this girl needs a shower. I have the day off tomorrow and I’ve been looking forward to a hot shower since about 4 this afternoon.” You start taking your hair down from its messy bun and pulling bobby pins from your hair. You remove your scrub top and unhook your bra next. Jim watches from the bed, twitching under the covers, enamored by your every move.
You set the shower to hot and it steams quickly. The hot water is a welcome release of stress to your tired body. A day off tomorrow, and with Jim no less, is just what the doctor ordered (no pun intended).
As you’re rinsing your hair under the shower, Jim steps in to join you.
“What are you doing here,” you ask with a smile, leaning in to kiss him.
“I figured you could use some company and I’ve missed you too much to let you do this alone,” he says, putting some of your shampoo in his hands and massaging your hair. You lean against his chest slightly, your body relaxed from the heat.
He ropes a long arm around your torso as he leans his head down to kiss your neck gently.
“Thank you for taking care of me, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “Now let me take care of you.”
You groan with anticipation as his other arm reaches around your chest to massage your breast, rolling a nipple between his thumb and finger. You coo gently at the sensation, your breath deepening into a pant. You raise your arms behind you to touch him and run your fingers through his wet hair.
“Does that feel good,” he asks with a whisper again. “Does that feel good baby? I want you to feel good.”
His soapy hands travel up and down your body and his erection is grinding into the top of your ass. He continues to kiss along your shoulder and neck, and his breathing hitches, anxious to do more with you. You turn around to face him so you can finally kiss.
After six days of barely touching, while Jim recovered from the flu, it’s like an eternity of time passed. But your mouths find each other just the same, and it feels like coming home. He parts your full lips with his tongue, and they meet in the middle, causing you both to moan into it. His arms run their path down your sides to your ass, which he grabs with a growl from his chest.
“You’re so sexy,” he grumbles into your ear as he backs you against the wall of the shower. You smile with lustful eyes, knowing what’s coming next.
“Please fuck me,” you purr to him. "I've missed you."
His eyes spark with desire as he lifts your leg under the knee and positions himself to enter you quickly. Feeling him stretch you after several days is a delicious sensation you can’t describe. It damn near takes your breath away when he starts slowly sliding in and out of you against the shower wall, your hands and fingers dragging up and down his back, pressing into his muscles for relief.
“Oh, fuck... This feels so fucking amazing. God, I missed you,” you pant to him. He moans as he kisses and sucks the tender flesh above your breasts and collarbone, still massaging them with his warm, large hands.
You can’t stand still and let him do all the work, so you start rolling your hips to chase pleasure with him. The friction of your bodies and the heat of the shower makes you almost delirious with ecstasy. The coil of release twists in your gut, your breath shortening, nipples perking, and a chill climbing up your spine despite the temperature. His hands grasp at the flesh of your sides -- your hips, your waist, your ass. He pulls away from kissing you to pant and moan at the arousal climbing in his nerves.
“Oh- oh, f-fuck, baby, I’m...” you start to stutter, your body aching for release.
“That’s my baby,” he coos to your ear. “I’ve got you, daddy’s got you. Let it go.”
You cry out his name as you kiss his shoulder, sucking on his skin. Your sensitive channel flutters around him as you moan, the steam from the shower mixing with the steam that must be coming from your bodies. Your mouth is slack with pleasure, your eyes lidded from the come-down of your orgasm, and he leans forward to kiss you gently. "How does that feel, baby," he asks with a whisper, hands trailing up and down the sides of your body again.
"Fuck. F-fuck, I missed you. I love you," is all you can say. "I love you so much."
Your rolling hips pick up speed against his thrusts and he starts to moan into the sensation of release. He dips his head into your neck while his hands grip your fleshy ass and hip as he lets it course through him.
“Fu-fuck, fuck you feel good,” he’s panting into your chest. “Oh, fuck, baby...” His hips pick up speed while you grind back into his center, making him moan into your hair and neck. As he ascends his peak, he bruisingly grabs your hips as he empties into you, his own hips studdering to a stop, his breath panting and gasping in your ear. He gently slides out of you and puts your leg gingerly down on the shower floor. You look at him through your soaked eyelashes and smile, leaning in to kiss him.
“That... was... amazing,” you say, leaning against his chest while his arms envelop you.
“I'm so madly in love with you," he coos into your ear, smiling and kissing your neck. You opt to return to your shower and bathing each other with gentle caresses and tickles. After the shower, he’s back in his sleep shirt and boxers, and you’re in one of his old baseball tees and panties. You crawl under the comforter and snuggle up against the pillows, turning Netflix on the TV.
“Can we just do this tomorrow for our day off? I’ve missed this,” you ask with a whine.
“I did too. We can do whatever you want,” he says, putting his arm around you while you lean into his chest. “Let’s make this bed our island. Population: 2.”