armydoccallahan

[armydoccallahan]

[armydoccallahan]

tohideinplainsight:

Oh.

Never let it be said that Rangers never act without preparing. He almost tells TC as much, but then Drew is reminded they only have ten minutes. Is it enough? Of course not. Even as the blush crawls ruddy and splotched across his cheeks he knows it’ll never be enough.

The way those fingers touch is enough to have him setting the clipboard on the nearest shelf. “What a shame you didn’t say something sooner Tee,” come half whispered words as his gaze slides slowly along the skin bared under his hands.

TC’s shirt is the first thing to go.

"Might’ve had fifteen instead."

It still wouldn’t stop the way his pulse quickened and pupils dilated. Jokes aside, Drew can’t help but think it’s a small miracle being able to remain immune to his Ranger’s charms. Now though, now they’re on the clock, and he rushes forward in the space between them.

Boxes of gauze sway as his elbow knocks the shelf, fingers carding into TC’s hair as Drew crushes their lips together leaving behind the pants those nimble fingers saw fit to untie. Normally, he wouldn’t be this daring, but it’s so rare they’re granted peace and after the week from hell Drew just wants to feel those hands.

"C’mon Ranger," he breathes out between their lips, "Impress me."

The grin that creeps along his lips is nothing short of lecherous as Drew's hands mark a path up his chest. He's all too happy to lose the shirt immediately after, and he doesn't much care where it ends up in the room. The same goes for the rest of their clothing; he'll be only too glad to get rid of it.

"We've done more with less," he says, pressing fevered kisses into Drew's neck. He'll never get over that blush, the way it creeps across his cheeks, rosy and warm, and spreads into his neck and even his shoulders. TC chases its path with lips and teeth and tongue, until he's satisfied Drew will have a nice scattering of marks to remember him by when they're eventually dragged back out into shift. 

He plans to make the most of all the time they've got until then, though. 

"Rangers lead the way, eh?" he teases, hooking fingers under the hem of Drew's shirt and shoving it up and over his head. "Happy to oblige." 

[armydoccallahan]

tohideinplainsight:

For once Andrew finds himself agreeing with TC.

Standing there pressed in close with his arms around broad shoulders there’s a hint of a shy smile on his lips. Ducking his head to the warmth of the other boy’s throat, he hides away the slight blush and the growing smile. TC’s lips still linger as a ghost at the corners of his mouth, a warm pressure that makes his stomach twist in happy little flips.

"We don’t have to go."

Fingers snare into the warmth of fabric and Andrew can almost feel the warmth of TC’s pulse as his own. Lifting his head, he looks at the other boy and bites his lip to hold back stupid words. Words that say too much too fast and swell hotly at his chest with a desire to set free.

’I’d run away with you anywhere if you asked.’

Instead he releases his lip and a slight smile of sorts takes hold. “In fact,” he begins, “I don’t think they’ll miss us much. More tea leaves and all.” It doesn’t stop the way his hands smooth down TC’s chest, or how his eyes go soft and thoughtful. Andrew dares to lean up, to press in close once more, and steal another kiss. In a moment of bravery with no small amount of heat swelling to his cheeks, he utters quiet words.

"Maybe you could show me your dormitory…?"

"What? Andrew Alister playing hookie?" He's all grins and maybe a little bit of smugness, but underneath the teenage bravado, he's soaring. He's never felt like this for anybody, ever. He's dated before. He's been serious before. But this ... this is different. This is new, and it's as exciting as it is terrifying. 

They always say Gryffindor's are the brave and the bold. 

"I could do that," he says, nose brushing Andrew's as he leans in. He doesn't want to give up even an inch, not when the alternative is so much cuter. Even so, he knows Andrew's new to this, and he doesn't want to push him too fast. TC's not exactly known for his restraint, but when it comes to Andrew, he's willing to try new things. He's willing to be better, because maybe then, he might come close to being what Andrew actually deserves. 

"But only if you want to, okay? 'Cause we could do other stuff too, and I'd be happy. I just like, y'know, being around you." It's lame and it's cheesy, but truer words have ne'er passed his lips. 

[armydoccallahan]

tohideinplainsight:

It’s easier to calm down when the bussing of voices doesn’t leave him feeling like he needs to run, he needs to get away. Andrea would’ve laughed at how silly he was being but his sister didn’t know the cruelty of people as he did. But then there’s TC, who catches hold of him and quells the panic bubbling thickly up. “You ain’t asking me on a date first? Shit Doc, ‘m flattered but I ain’t that kind a girl,” Andrew is valiantly saying, trying to lighten the mood.

Heavy eyes fall close when those lips press to his forehead, causing him to shiver with how cold everything feels.

Another shallow breath and he manages to clamor up onto the bed as requested. It’s hard to hide the grimace as his fingers meet metal and it feels like ice, burning against his skin. His vision is so blurred he doesn’t notice the railing melting away like water under his hands. “Doc,” there’s something vulnerable in his voice, something fragile.

"I— Everything i-is freezing. And I—"

At first he’d thought it’d just been him and the dizziness of his mind. But it’s more than that. Andrew can’t tell where up and down is or where his hands are resting. All he knows is the bitter feeling of ice against his skin that’s beginning to make him shiver. Panic threaten to swells up and that instinct to run, to hide away in some dark corner, rises right alongside it.

"I c-can’t—"

Andrew swallows thickly and reaches out, eyes open but threatening to tunnel out into black. But it doesn’t change a thing. Doesn’t change the way his brows knit and the way his voices becomes small.

He’s scared.

"I can’t see you.”

There's a lump in the pit of TC's gut, and it's getting worse the more he sees and the more time passes. Andrew's shivering. That alone is enough to have him worried. Andrew runs hot. Really hot, and seeing him tremble there on the table has alarms going off in the back of TC's head like never before. Even as the metal of the bed sinks and rends under his hands, TC knows he feels cold. 

And then he says it. 

I can't see. 

TC's moving before he even thinks about it. He's a doctor; he knows how to keep calm, how to approach situations that should send a normal man screaming for the hills. But this is personal, and damned if that doesn't make a difference. He steps into Andrew's space, fitting between his knees neatly so he can cup his hands to Andrew's sweat-slicked temples. He doesn't care how warm his skin is; even if he burns him, TC will heal. TC always heals, in more way than one.

If he concentrates, he can feel the chemicals firing in Andrew's brain like they're his own. His ability lets him ebb and swell the flow of dopamine and seratonin like he's turning the dials of a faucet, and although it's not something he does often    it feels ... invasive, somehow   but he knows what happens when Andrew gets upset. It's not that he's afraid of him; he's afraid for him, and he needs to break the cycle before it gets out of hand. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. 

"You're okay," he tells him. "Just breathe. It's gonna be okay. You don't need to see me; I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." 

Fortunately, he has everything he needs in arm's reach. "I'm just gonna ask you some questions, okay? Just answer them for me as well as you can." As he speaks, he brushes a hand gently through Andrew's hair. "I need you to tell me what you can see? Any shapes? Any light? Dark spots?"

[armydoccallahan]

callitcoulson:

Maybe that’s the point? Someone has to spoil you.

"And you figure you're the right man for the job, eh?" 

[armydoccallahan]

tohideinplainsight:

"…’m a stray dog then?" The words are hushed with a shallow little laugh. It speaks volumes that Andrew’s eyes don’t immediately dart away and towards the room looking for the nearest exit when TC stands in front of him. Instead the heat seems to dissipate as he focuses upon doing as requested. It seems pointless, feeling for a fever when Andrew’s body already runs hotter than normal.

"Y’sure? I mean, I ain’t saying anything against ya but shit, y’know how my body is…"

Pushing away from casually leaning against the wall, he has to close his eyes to force his mutation down. It’s difficult, like pushing his hands in ice, but some little part of him doesn’t want to burn TC. The doc didn’t deserve it. Drew draws a shallow breath and steps a little closer, sweat running down his brow.

But after so long, who else would know him better than TC?

Trust comes easy after that.

"Alright Doc, should be good."

TC doesn't really know what he's hoping to accomplish here. With Andrew's mutation, checking for a temperature seems kind of like a moot point. But maybe he thinks, after all this time, he's gotten kind of used to how hot he runs. Even if it's higher than an average person's normally, he thinks he would notice the difference. 

And he does. As his hand rests against Andrew's brow, he feels more heat than usual against the his fingers. The sweat and shortness of breath are enough to have him worried, but the fever is even more troubling. As high as Andrew burns normally, he can't help wondering how much more is too much, especially over a sustained period of time. 

"Molly, I'm taking exam room 3," he calls over his shoulder, and then he's got an arm around Andrew's waist to steer him to it. Hopefully, it'll be easier there. Less people making Andrew jumpy, less crowds to worry about. 

He guides him to the exam bed and holds him steady. "Go ahead and hop up, okay?" he says, pressing a kiss to Andrew's burning brow. "You and I are gonna play doctor for a little bit, and I'm not taking no for an answer." Obviously not; he's already got his stethoscope out, ready to get a better listen to Andrew's labored breath. 

[armydoccallahan]

tohideinplainsight:

Okay so here he is trying to be serious and pay attention to his clipboard when there’s this attractive asshole at his left elbow whispering hilarious filth. God help him, Drew is hiding a slight grin and dipping his head with a huff of breath. It’s the most laughter he utters, as if not to jinx the moment of peace they’ve got.

"You should know, Tee, you get your scrubs from the same place."

Shoved away in the storage closet with TC isn’t bad, and Drew tries not to look too excited when they get assigned to the ‘shit job’. Because it means he can elbow the other man with a hint of a smile and hide the way his ears go red at the compliment.

So maybe he’s a bit shy even if they’re along behind a closed door. Alone.

"But, you know, you weren’t looking and all. But if you were I might’ve told you that there’s a lock on the door and ten minutes no one will look for us.”

"Do I?" He does, in fact. Third shelf in the supply closet, on the right. "I guess you just wear them better." His smile is equal parts teasing and suggestive. He loves seeing the blush creep up the tips of Drew's ears; he considers it a personal mission to see it as often as possible. 

He turns, leaning his hip on the counter and crossing his arms. "You might've said all that, eh?" he says, leaning in until his lips nearly brush the shell of Drew's blush-reddened ears. "Because I might've told you it's already locked." 

Never say TC didn't learn anything from his time in the boyscouts: always be prepared. 

Biting his lip, he makes a show of running his eyes up and down Drew's lean frame before reaching out to pluck the front of Drew's scrubs. "And I might've told you it'd be a shame to waste ten perfectly good minutes." 

[armydoccallahan]

TC Callahan in all his glory for my lovely Sindhu

[armydoccallahan]

tohideinplainsight:

"Hey you know me," though he’s a bit breathless and there’s clammy cold sweat on his brow. His skin is burning up and everyone who comes too close seems to skirt away as fast as possible. Apparently they don’t feel safe around a mutant that can literally ignite things.

Much less when said mutant has a fever.

"I can never stay away from you. What was it that lady doc said? About strays and cats? Yeah, guess that shit’s true an’ all."

TC wouldn't have been much of a doctor if he didn't notice the thin sheen of sweat on Andrew's face or the flush on his cheeks. He doesn't know as much about the mechanics of Andrew's mutation as he wishes he did, but he gets the feeling there's something off about it. 

"Guess so. 'cept I've always been more of a dog person, myself." 

His voice is casual, but his expression is intent. There's definitely something wrong with Andrew, and he's never been very good at being anything less than direct. He steps in closer, not quite cornering Andrew but squaring with him.

"Hey, I'm gonna feel your head for a fever, okay? Try not to singe me if you can help it. And if you can't, well    don't worry about it. C'mere." 

[armydoccallahan]

[armydoccallahan]

"Andrew? What are you doing here? I mean, it's not that I'm not happy to see you   trust me, I'm always over the moon to see your smiling face. I'm just not used to seeing it here." 

There's a little part of him that's worried; there's a little part of him that's always worried. But he hides it well, behind a crooked smile and a lot of words. 

[armydoccallahan]

callitcoulson:

Coffee, babe?

Careful, you're going to spoil me. 

[armydoccallahan]

"I'm not staring at your ass. But if I was, I would have to tell you that I owe your clothing store a big thank you. If I was looking at your ass, that is." 

Which he is. He definitely is. It's a slow night in the E.R. and they're stuck doing inventory in the patient rooms for when shit inevitably hits the fan. But for now, there's no crisis. There's just him and Drew and a little bit of time to kill. 

[armydoccallahan]

armydoccallahan

[armydoccallahan]

agreatandhonorablesoldier:

for armydoccallahan

After an unfortunate incident leaves TC different… gifted, SHIELD puts him on the Index and he’s assigned an agent to keep tabs on him. Technically, Clint doesn’t have to be friends with him but it feels wrong for him to insert himself in the doctor’s life without getting to know him. The more he learns, the more Clint worries that TC will go from being someone he protects from others who want to use him to being someone they use as an asset. 

[armydoccallahan]

when you find the right woman, you’ll do anything for her.

[armydoccallahan]

    What did he need? Christ, but that was a loaded question, wasn't it? "I just   I just need time." Time for what, he didn't know. No amount of time was going to make his powers any less potent. It wasn't going to make him any more normal. 

    But if he could just catch his breath, pull himself back together like he had so many times, then he could put on a brave face and deal with it a little longer. Baby steps. "And I need to get back to work."

        At the wince, he nearly pulled away, not wanting to make things any worse for TC. But then TC leaned into him and Clint relaxed and gently squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him that Clint was there for him. “What do you need?”

      Clint was itching to report what had happened so that they could get someone sent over to intercept any team sent to sit on TC’S place until he got back but he first he wanted to make sure that TC was okay.