Work Text:
Having walked to the hospital after work to meet him, Zayne offers to drive you home. That plan changes suddenly when he casually mentions having a loaf of that special kind of sweetbread that you’d been craving for weeks at his house. Now you insist that it’d probably be best to stay the night at his place.
You ramble about your day in the car, Zayne interjecting every once in a while with his dry comments, when he suddenly receives an email on his dash that he swipes away with a sigh, his eyes not looking away from the road for a second. It isn’t a huge deal to you that he might have to work, but you knew that the sweetbread will have to wait a little longer.
“Have some without me. I’ll be finished soon,” he directs, sitting on the couch with his laptop. While he gets settled into work again, you quickly change into one of the more comfortable outfits you’d left at his place, then raid his tidy kitchen. Instead of doing as he said, you return to the couch with two plates, one of which he accepts from you between the clacking of keyboard keys.
After finishing your last bite, you look up from your phone screen to watch him as he sets his laptop and glasses aside, next to his empty plate. He looks tired, though not too exhausted, as he rubs his eyes, stands, and stretches.
Sometimes you find yourself enamored by the spectacle that is Dr. Zayne Li. The way his dark hair falls over his eyes when it’s been a while since his last trim. And, of course, the way his hands move as he intertwines his fingers to stretch his stiff shoulders.
And, sometimes, he catches you staring. Like right now.
“I’m going to change,” he explains as if that’s what you were wondering. You nod anyway, not about to admit what you were actually thinking, and you aren’t too surprised by the small smile that graces his lips as he turns and walks out. He sees right through you.
How can he blame you for staring when he’s as gorgeous as he is? It makes sense that you sometimes find yourself poking at him just to make sure he’s real. He’s gotten used to your pestering, usually responding sarcastically, trapping your hands in his to get you to stop bugging him.
But not bugging Zayne is so hard! He’s such a perfect target. And sometimes, deep down, you think he secretly loves it.
Well, maybe not so secretly. He’s all but admitted it with that small smile he tries to hide by shaking his head at you.
You discard your phone, thinking about your favorite hobby: Annoying Zayne. And the cogs in your brain are already whirring and turning to think up something good.
Hopping up onto your feet, you slip into the bedroom where he stands with his back to you, removing his watch and tie. He does so in a methodical manner as per usual, a comforting and familiar sight. His back still toward you, he loosens his collar and untucks his shirt, the slightly wrinkled white hem hanging free and suddenly giving you the perfect idea.
One would think that a guy whose Evol is literal ice would run cool all the time, but Zayne is typically pretty warm.
With all the stealth you’ve learned from hunting down Wanderers, you slip into the room and stand directly behind him.
If you thought Zayne’s posture couldn’t get any more straight, you are surprised to see how rigid he goes when your cold hands find the direct center of his bare back.
He reaches back, pinning your hands against him, his expression bewildered as he turns to look at you. Your face goes hot when you realize your hands are now pressed flat against his stomach.
“I almost thought that the house had a ghost who was trying to possess me with its frigid fingers,” he murmurs, shaking his head, still keeping your hands flat against him.
“What? I was just trying to warm my hands up a little,” you pout innocently.
“Of course you were,” he says, “I might have been annoyed if I weren’t concerned about your blood circulation. Have you been taking your medication on time lately? And the vitamins?”
“Yes!” you whine, attempting to slip your hands from underneath his, but he doesn’t release you yet.
“And those hand and wrist stretches we looked into last time? You’ve been doing them daily, right?”
You’re about to huff in annoyance at his pestering, but looking up at his face again you notice the slight gleam in his eye and immediately realize that he has got a reaction out of you. That soft smile instantly appears on his lips as those gorgeous eyes of his sparkle.
“Zayne!” you pout, burying your face in his chest when your cheeks burn with shame, “Using your doctor voice isn’t playing fair.”
He lets you slide your hands out of his grip as he holds back a wider smile.
“I apologize,” he says, barely concealing the humor in his voice, “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to retaliate.”
If you liked teasing Zayne, he loved teasing you twice as much.