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“We really can’t keep meeting like this, Mr. Garrick.”
“All the more reason to see you, Doc.”
The town’s local doctor, who the townspeople affectionately call ‘Crow’, bowed his head down and laughed. Kyle Garrick— Gaz, one of the town deputies, sat in front of the doctor on a plain bed. The poor man was covered in scratches and bruises- most likely from his latest case against a couple of outlaws that were bothering the locals. With an alcoholic cotton swab between a pair of tweezers, Crow gently dabbed at Gaz’s injuries, making him hiss through his teeth.
“Poor thing,” Crow cooed, “you must’ve acted all brave on the way here.”
“Well, I have to— can’t let the townsfolk see their deputy being weak.”
“Oh, but I can?”
Their eyes met and Gaz smiled tenderly at Crow.
“Only you.”
Caught off guard, Crow’s face flushed into a light rose color and he blinked, returning to the menial task before him to distract himself. He grumbled something under his breath, something about casanovas and being unbelievably bold, making the deputy chuckle.
Even in the usually cold exam room of Crow’s small clinic, the atmosphere was warm- romantic, even. Whenever Gaz found himself in there, Crow would silently thank the heavens for bringing the deputy to him. With accidents happening too often in town and passerby cowboys coming in to treat messy wounds, Crow found it increasingly difficult to be with Gaz during their off time. How the two even hit it off at the start, Crow doesn’t recall, but the casual talks quickly snowballed into something more.
“There,” Crow said, with a tinge of disappointment in his voice, “I think that should be all of them.”
The scratches were minor- of course they were- and most of them didn’t need bandaging, meaning Gaz was more than healthy enough to leave the clinic and return to the sheriff’s department. That, of course, didn’t keep the deputy from staying in the exam room longer than he should, watching the doctor put flasks and tools away in their proper cabinets.
“Price will get mad if you’re not back, won’t he?” Crow asked with his back still towards Gaz, fiddling with the vials in the medicine drawer. There was an obvious frown on his face, and he didn’t want him to see, “you should go now.”
Crow’s ears perked at the sound of the bed springs creaking and the sound of Gaz’s boots against the hardwood floor of the clinic. He could feel him approaching from behind, pulling the doctor close by his waist. Crow’s hands fell upon Gaz’s and the two just stood there, the deputy hugging him from behind.
“He won’t mind,” Gaz spoke gently, nuzzling into Crow’s hair, “ and I’m pretty sure he knows why I let myself get hurt sometimes anyway.”
“… I’m sorry, for being so busy these days.”
“Crow, you’re this town’s only doctor— you’re bound to be busy.”
The doctor turned his body around to face the deputy, hiding his face into the collar of his uniform as he held onto him.
“Look on the bright side— business is booming!”
Crow looked up almost incredulously at Gaz, “is it really a bright side if tons of people are getting hurt everyday?”
“Yes,” Gaz answered without hesitation, and Crow wondered to himself why he even bothered to ask. With a simple kiss, the two let go of each other, and Gaz reached for his gun holster on the end table next to the bed.
“I’ll leave you to it then, Doc— and I’ll come back later tonight with something from the saloon too, yeah?”
“… okay.”
Crow watched Gaz leave the clinic, his gaze lingering on the door after he watched him walk through it, then he returned to his duties. The feeling of the kiss from earlier still burned slightly on Crow’s lips, and the doctor once again found himself anticipating the deputy’s next visit.