Work Text:
There he was. The most beautiful man in the world.
Strong and lean. Muscular. Powerful legs steadily pumping the pedals. Thighs of a Greek god. Arms of a Roman god. Face worthy of a Raphael’s painting.
He was so handsome, she wanted to cry.
He also paid her exactly zero attention.
She loved this trail and has been jogging around the pond, the hilly slopes, the grassy knolls, and the paths shaded by massive cypresses and oaks for two years now. Bicyclists, frankly, were usually nothing but a nuisance. They sort of tried to stick to their side of the path, but it was like they were just so very important they expected everyone to move and give way.
Well, she was Elain fucking Archeron, and she wasn’t moving for nobody!
Beep.
Beep-beep.
Beeeeeppp.
She pretended not to hear the annoying sound of the bike bell, but then someone was shouting ‘On your left!’ and she made a panicked swerve to avoid being hit by the cyclist.
“Dipshit,” her sister Nesta muttered next to her, throwing daggers at the cyclists’ backs, as they rolled smoothly past the two sisters.
“T!” Elain muttered in turn, blushing.
Nesta, who usually went by T, because she felt that her name was too weird for an average American to comprehend, was sharp and bristly, and would’ve been perfectly fine getting into a shouting match for a bunch of muscular bikers. Elain was…well, not cowardly exactly, but she preferred to think of herself as rational . Yes, she was a rational person who did get into fights with strangers.
She just ogled them.
This one particular stranger.
Pulling her AirPods out of her ears, Nesta threw Elain a withering glance and said, without slowing down, while Elain was beginning to pant.
“Why don’t you just approach him?”
“No way!” Elain exclaimed in horror. “I am not approaching strange men in parks!”
Nesta rolled her eyes and then gritted out,
“Can’t you think of something? Not weird, but just…friendly?”
“No!” Elain wiped her brow, as she attempted to keep pace with her more athletic sister. “Because it’s always weird. It’s like that scene from ‘Get Hard’, where they go to the gay bar brunch and Kevin Hart is instructing Will Ferrell on how to approach a man and ask him to suck dick! And Will Ferrell is like ‘Oh hi, hello. Can I…uh…can I suck your dick?’...”
Nesta was laughing. Elain was ridiculous, but also adorable in her inability to approach men, have conversations with them, or even look at them without being painfully obvious. Elain, her sweet sister, who was pretty as a peony, smart and funny, who wrote excellent fanfiction for her favourite series ‘A Court of Thorns and Roses’ and was a superstar on AO3, who volunteered at dog shelters, and dreamt of brooding dark dominant men, who’d come into her life and sweep her off her feet–Elain had no game. None.
Nesta wasn’t exactly surprised that the idea of approaching the biking hunk was abhorrent to Elain. She’d never even consider it.
“Well, it’s that, or Tinder,” Nesta shrugged, her expression somehow fatalistic.
Elain shuddered and shook her head vigorously.
“Why?!” she demanded. “Why can’t I just meet a good man and fall in love,”
“You don’t want to fall in love with a good man,” Nesta argued. “You want to fall in love with a bad boy with knuckle tattoos!”
“No I don’t,” Elain argued prissily, though she was blushing ferociously, and Nesta knew that she hit the spot. “Why would I want someone like that?!”
“Why? Because you think that Zade Meadows is a romantic. And your Pinterest is filled with hot dudes with knuckle tattoos. You literally have a board named ‘Hot Dudes with Tattoos’.”
Elain stared at her sister in abject horror.
“You snooped??!?!” she screeched. “You snooped on my Pinterest?!!?”
“Simmer down. It’s not like I went through your PornHub history! Jeez,” Nesta shook her head.
“I don’t have a PornHub history!” Elain exclaimed.
They were standing in the shade, and Nesta was stretching her long, slender limbs. She didn’t need to stop, but her less fit sister definitely did. Therefore, Nesta pretended like she needed to massage her hamstring and roll her shoulders.
“El, you need to go after what you want,” Nesta insisted. She knew the conversation was pointless and Elain never would, but it didn’t hurt to remind her. “Listen, you are a 30 year old virgin,”
“I am not a virgin!” Elain’s eyes popped out of their sockets in righteous indignation.
Nesta cocked her brow and put her hands on her hips.
“Uh-uh,”
“Yes! No! I am not a virgin! Also, I am not 30!” Elain yelled. “I am not a virgin!”
Two things happened.
The hot cyclist, and his posse, were just below them, resting and drinking, parked at the curve of the road. Elain’s shouting about the state of her hymen to the whole world solicited sniggers and chuckles, and the hot dude lifted his head and looked up.
Nesta could see the appeal–he was handsome indeed. Excellent body. A smirk on his lips–which she felt was warranted–as he looked at her sister, while Elain was about to explode where she stood. The rest of the cyclists saluted them, grinning and laughing, and got on their way, while the Hot One lingered behind. He was staring upward, his eyes skimming over Elain’s voluptuous body, gliding over her ample chest and her long slender legs.
The second thing that happened was Elain scrambled backwards, gasping like a fish out of water, staring at him in horror. Before Nesta could make a snide remark about hoping that the Hot One was up for the challenge of deflowering a virgin, Elain tripped on the rocks, slipped and fell on her ass. Her leg shot out in front of her, pushing on a large rock, which skidded down the path and bounced against the dry slope. It was like watching a murder in slow motion. They all saw it. Elain–arms outstretched in silent horror. Nesta, her hand flying to her mouth, while screaming ‘look out’ and then the Hot One being knocked on the head by the rock.
“OHMYGOD!!!!!!!!” Elain screamed violently. “I killed him!”
“Shit, shit, shit,” Nesta took off at once, running as fast as she could down the path, with Elain flailing her arms and hurrying behind her.
“Is he dead?” Elain wailed loudly, “I killed him!”
“Fuck, I hope not,” Nesta muttered to herself.
They finally reached the man, who was splayed on the dirt path, arms out, head bleeding.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Elain clucked incessantly, watching him in horror.
“Yeah, he is gonna need some help,” Nesta decided.
“Am I going to prison? For murder?” Elain cried.
“Well, let’s see if he is dead,”
“He can’t be dead!”
Callously, Nesta murmured, “could be dead…”
“T! What the hell!”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been announcing to the world that you are a freakin’ virgin and none of this would’ve happened!”
Elain dropped to her knees in front of the man and pushed her face to his chest, and her fingers to his neck, feeling and listening for his heartbeat.
“I am not a virgin!” she grumbled angrily.
“Yeah?” Nesta demanded. “And what are you?”
“I’ve had sex!”
“With who?”
“Men! With lots of men!”
“Yeah, okay Mata Hari,”
“He is alive!” Elain declared excitedly, while Nesta was dialling her phone.
“Well, thank god for small miracles. Guess you aren't going to prison after all.”
“Shut up,” Elain pouted.
Smirking to herself, Nesta turned away from her sister and then tossed over her shoulder, “I think he needs mouth to mouth.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, you know, CPR. Give him CPR. Revive him.”
Unsure, Elain looked down at the unconscious man and murmured,
“But…I…but it’s like kissing…”
“Okay, well, it’s not really kissing, but you’ve had sex with many men, so kissing shouldn’t be an issue for you,” Nesta noted.
“T!”
“Elain! You might save his life!” Nesta cried out dramatically. The things she had to do to get her sister a boyfriend!
Then, she added, “911 is telling me to give him CPR!”
She was lying of course.
Reluctantly, Elain crouched over him and wincing, pressed her lips to his.
Someone somewhere was having a good laugh at her expense.
Ha.Ha.Ha.Ha.
This was just hilarious . Her first kiss should be with an unconscious guy who probably got brain damage because of her.
“Deeper!” Nesta urged her on.
“Deeper?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what 911 is saying. Put some…you know…muscle into it!”
Elain frowned, but breathed more air into the man’s lungs. She didn't want to think about how soft his lips were and how he smelled nice–something earthy and citrusy. He definitely took good care of himself, and even clad in all spandex, she could smell the cologne on him.
“They are on their way,” Nesta said, placing the phone back into her arm pocket.
She looked down at Elain who was still trying to revive him, and then commented,
“His package is…moderate.”
Elain’s head jerked up and she stared at her sister in disgust.
“What is wrong with you?!” she demanded, “he is half-dead and you are looking at his…his…”
“What?” Nesta teased.
“Penis!”
“Yes. His modestly moderate penis.”
“You are gross!”
“Why isn't he waking up?” Nesta crossed her arms on her chest. “What a wimp.”
In the distance they heard the wailing of a siren.
“I hit him with a rock!” Elain exclaimed, “a boulder!”
“Please. It was a pebble.”
Elain gently smacked his cheek, and then dipped back in to blow more air in his lungs.
“Please wake up…”
With a moan, the man twitched and groaned, and then hissed,
“Who the fuck are you?!”
Taken aback by his tone, Elain quickly explained, “We called an ambulance…I am sorry…I am just trying to revive you,”
“Trying to revive me?” he grunted menacingly. “Maybe don’t fucking throw rocks at me in the first place. No wonder you are a virgin!”
Elain blushed profusely and gasped, “I am sorry?”
Nesta frowned at his tone and stepped forward.
“Simmer down, bud,”
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” he snapped, “she threw a rock at me,”
“It was obviously an accident,”
“Yeah, an accident where I have a rock embedded in my head.”
“It’s a scratch. Calm down,” Nesta argued lazily.
“Can I get you anything?” Elain offered softly.
“Yeah, step off, missy,” he suggested and then tried to move, but moaned loudly instead.
“This guys sucks,” Nesta whispered, “I wish we didn’t help him,”
“T!”
“What did you just say?” he glowered at Nesta but she ignored him.
Thankfully, the tense moment was interrupted by four brawny paramedics who were running up the path.
They surrounded the man, asking him questions, taking vitals, looking at the gushing wound on his head which was spewing blood.
Nesta shrugged and said, “Head wounds always bleed a lot.”
“Nesta, he got hit in the head by a rock!” Elain reminded her crossly. “Come on, let’s go. We’ll follow them to the hospital.”
“We have to go to the hospital with him?” Nesta gritted indignantly.
“Obviously!”
The drive to the regional hospital was only fifteen minutes long, during which Nesta was silent, but rolling her eyes excessively.
…”It’s been almost two hours. How much longer do we need to sit here?”
It has been almost two hours. They’ve been sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by some ‘shady people’ in Nesta’s words. She kept trying to guess what was wrong with each individual, proposing things like “definitely herpes!” and “you think a bear attack?” and “oh god, this dude is hacking out a lung!” and “I think the clap!” and “jeez, I hope it’s not ebola”.
Elain was chewing on her nail, her head jerking every time the door opened, as she waited for the cops to come in and arrest her.
“Miss?”
She looked up at the sound of a deep, gravelly voice.
The first thing she saw were big, scarred hands holding an IPad. Large male hands, covered in tattoos. Each finger and knuckle has a symbol of some kind inked into the tanned skin. Looking up, Elain was faced with a man dressed in civilian clothes, but in a blue scrubs coat, which, it seemed, he wore out of expectation, rather than necessity.
“Miss…?” he repeated, and she just stared at him. Because he was breathtaking.
“Elain,” she answered, her voice hollow, her eyes roaming over the man’s imposing physique and enormous height.
“Mamma mia,” Elain heard Nesta’s breathless whisper behind her.
Mamma mia indeed.
“Miss Elain then?”
“Yeah. Elain,” Elain repeated stupidly.
He smirked and said,
“I am Doctor Azriel King. You came in with Mr. Nolan?”
“What?” she mumbled, unable to tear her eyes away from the stunning beauty of this man, who was all sharp angles and gorgeous hazel eyes, which were a dreamy combination of gold and earthy brown and emerald green. Thick black hair, stylishly cut, crowned this exceptional specimen of raw, aggressive masculinity. Even his neck had tattoos. Elain was beginning to hyperventilate. If she fainted here, would this Dr. King give her mouth to mouth? If she knew he was a doctor here, she’d come here every day to faint!
“Mr. Nolan, Graysen Nolan,” he glanced at the IPad, “you came here with him? He said that you hit him with a rock?”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“Yeah, no concussion. Just a bad cut on his forehead, for which he received stitches.”
A smirk played on his beautiful mouth.
“Mr. Nolan doesn’t tolerate pain very well it seems.”
“Did he cry like a little bitch?” Nesta huffed, standing behind Elain.
“I would say…” he pretended to think for a second and then grinned. “Yeah. Yeah he did.”
Eyes back on Elain, he asked,
“Why did you hit him with a rock?”
“I didn’t!” she said defensively. “I mean, I did, but I didn’t do it on purpose.”
He looked her over, something dark and desirous flashing in his unusual eyes and said sternly,
“You shouldn’t be hitting people with rocks, Elain. Especially your boyfriends.”
“Usually I don’t. And he is not my boyfriend! You are a doctor here?” she blurted out and then blushed furiously.
He gave her a slow, languid look, and then drew his thumb over his lower lip, sizing her up in the same manner he would a delicious, sinful meal.
“The hospital is low on staff. I am filling in. I usually travel during forest fire season with smoke jumpers,”
“Oh my god, that’s so dangerous!” Elain gasped.
“Yeah, tell it to my brother Cassian. He’s been a smoke jumper for 7 years. I head their medical team.”
Abruptly, he changed gears, and looked at Nesta.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Her eyes bugged out and she cried, “Excuse me?!”
“It’s just that you are exactly his type–sharp and beautiful.”
For once, it was Nesta who was out of things to say. She just glared at him in shock.
“She is available!” Elain piped in right away. “She is not seeing anyone. Does he look like you?”
Dr. King laughed softly, and Elain fell in love with the sound at once.
“He sure does. Just brawnier.”
Elain turned to her sister and hissed at Nesta, “his brother looks like him !”
“I…I…I am not going out with a smoke jumper!” Nesta protested feebly.
Dr. King popped his lips and said, “well, you are in luck! This is his last season. We are both done, and he won’t be smelling like a smoked mackerel anymore.”
Elain giggled. That caused him to look back at her, and he drew the tip of his tongue over his lips.
She swallowed. Loudly.
“And you?” he asked.
“What?”
“How serious are you about Graysen Nolan?”
“Who?”
He smiled a savage smile.
“That’s what I thought.”
Extending his scarred hand to her, he ordered, “phone”.
Wordlessly, Elain handed him her phone, courteously unlocking it for him.
He took it and quickly typed something into it.
“Cassian’s number. And mine. Your name, miss?”
“Nesta,” Nesta breathed.
“Perfect. He’d love it.”
He handed the phone back to Elain and said,
“You and I are going on a date tonight. Seven PM.”
She just stared at him in shock.
"I am not a stalker," he assured her lightly, those eyes sparkling with mischief. "Unless you want me to be a stalker?"
"Ummm, not particularly."
"Alright then. Just a bit then. Not Zade Meadows-level stalker,"
The expression of shock and bewilderment only intensified on her face.
"You know Zade?" she gasped.
"Well, not personally. He is a character in a book. But I am familiar. So. I shall see you at seven tonight. And every night after that.”