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Carter isn't trying to draw attention to the fact that he has the world's worst case of rug burn on his thighs, but unfortunately, the scrubs are unforgiving.
Of course, Luka notices.
"Is it old injuries or new ones?" Luka asks as Carter is picking up an extra inhaler for one of his patients. Carter would be annoyed, but it is obvious that Luka is trying to be discreet. Luka might be annoying all of the time and the biggest asshole of an attending that Carter has ever had, but Carter can at least appreciate that.
"New," Carter says. "But managed."
"It doesn't look managed," Luka argues. "You've been hobbling all day. It looks very uncomfortable."
"I'm fine," Carter denies.
"You should let me examine you," Luka insists. "To make sure it's nothing serious."
"No."
"Then I'll have to call Kerry."
Carter closes his eyes and counts to ten. Neither Kerry nor Mark are particularly on his side these days, and seem to take particular joy in rubbing his face into all of his screw-ups.
"Let me get this inhaler to my patient, okay? Then I'll meet you in exam room 2," Carter suggests. "But Luka, this is personal. Just you, nobody else. No nurses, no techs. That includes Abby, okay?"
Luka's brows furry, but he nods. "You have my word," he says, which really, sounds fucking ridiculous, and Carter thinks about telling him so.
... Except for the fact that Carter is also thinking about the fact that Luka standing so close to him really makes it obvious what Abby sees in the man, attraction wise.
Nope! That is a train of thought that Carter is going to blame on the epic rug burn.
Twenty minutes later, Carter is laying with his legs spread open and a very attentive Luka between them, and oh, he can definitely see what Abby sees in the man now.
He thinks maybe he owes her an apology. Do they make hallmark cards that read "hey, I suddenly realized that your ex is super hot when he was giving me an medical exam, so I had literally no reason to be so jealous? I would have fucked him too?"
"These are pretty serious contact burns," Luka is saying, oblivious to Carter's existential crisis.
He seems pretty focused on the area between Carter's legs, but not in a negative way. It is making Carter feel things he really, really doesn't want to feel during a medical exam.
"It's just a rug burn, Luka. The rugs in the house are old and uncomfortable, and we got carried away, you know?" Carter tries to sound nonchalant about it, which is a fucking feat, considering that Luka's long, long fingers are gently spreading cooling gel over his thighs.
It feels amazing, both because it is numbing the burning sensation and because Luka is drawing the kind of pattern that Carter is pretty sure he'd get fired for if he tried on an actual patient.
Please, please, please don't get wet, Carter begs his pussy.
As has been the case for the past few years, life does not go according to plan, and Carter can literally feel himself getting wetter the longer Luka is down there, between his legs.
At his explanation, Luka has the audacity to smile. "Yes, I know something about enthusiasm," he says agreeably, which can't be a professional thing for a doctor to say when their patient's legs are spread eagle in front of them, but on the other hand, Carter is not exactly thinking professional thoughts either. "Okay, the cream should help your thighs. Are we done, then, or do you need anything else?"
"Unless you are planning on giving me a full pelvic exam," Carter retorts, and he means to sound bitchy, but it comes out as more of a suggestion, really.
"Do you need one?" Luka asks. "Do you have... too much enthusiasm there, too, in your..." Luka trails off, as if he is looking for the right word.
"It's still a pussy, Luka," Carter fills in for him. "I'm still a man, and it's still a pussy. Both things can be true. And no, my pussy is fine."
"I'm sure that's true," Luka says as he scoots his stool backwards and begins to take off his gloves. "It's a shame it didn't get to experience any 'enthusiasm' though."
Carter reluctantly sits up himself and reaches for his scrubs. He has a job to do; he can't just sit here and have the weirdest fucking conversation of his life with Luka. He is very pleased to note that the cream Luka applied during their weird foreplay session is doing its job, and his legs feel a lot better.
"Maybe it's a good thing," Carter retorts. "Hell of a place to have a rug burn."
"Maybe you should choose your partners more carefully," Luka answers. He gives Carter a once-over look that makes Carter want to propose sexual acts that are still illegal in 9 out of 10 southern states, he's pretty sure. "Perhaps choose ones with a more gentle touch next time."
"Are you volunteering?" Carter doesn't mean to say it, but it doesn't matter anyway, because at that very inconvenient moment, Malik is banging on the door and yelling about four incoming GSWs.
Four hours later, Carter has time to sit in the lounge and grab a bag of M&Ms for a lunch of champions. He'd been willing to chalk up the weird conversation in the exam room up to just a fluke, but when Luka comes in, he smiles warmly at Carter in a way that Carter is fairly certain he's never done before.
Or maybe he had, and Carter had been too busy fighting with him over Abby to notice. But that was Old John Carter - the Carter that hadn't had the privilege of looking down to see a smirking, fondling Luka between his legs.
"Good afternoon, John," Luka says warmly. "How are your injuries?"
"Much better, thanks to my very attentive doctor," Carter admits.
"I am always very attentive," Luka says.
Carter literally doesn't know what to say to that, so he shoves a handful of M&Ms into his mouth and tries to will his brain to say something intelligent, because right now, all it really wants to say is "please bend me over this desk and fuck me," which isn't helpful at all.
Luka shakes his head, walks over behind Carter and leans over his shoulder. If Carter had any residual PTSD from people standing behind him, it would freak him out, but instead, all he can focus on his Luka's breath on his neck. "You should really take your time and enjoy the taste of things more, John," Luka says. "I know I would love to."
The meaning hits Carter loud and clear. "That's... that's pretty intimate for me. I need... some build-up to that."
"Mmm." Luka's mouth is on the back of Carter's neck, below his ear, and Carter is pretty sure his knees are literally melting. "You would let me work up to it? Please?"
Carter swallows twice to make his voice steady, so he doesn't sound as pathetic as he fears he will, but it still doesn't work. "I think if you keep begging like that, you can work up to anything you could ever possibly want."
Luka chuckles and the breath hits the back of Carter's ear. "I look forward to it."
Luka kisses the area just below Carter's ear, before swiftly walking out of the lounge.
On Monday, they share a shift again, and Luka follows Carter into the suture room. With Carter's back pressed up against the door, Luka fingers Carter until Carter is biting down on his own lip to keep from crying out and holding onto Luka's shoulders for dear life, lest his suddenly-made-of-jelly-knees give out on him.
He's left panting as Luka leans up against him and whispers into his ear, "Can I taste you, yet? Please?"
A part of Carter wants to say yes, but it's not loud enough for him to give in yet. So he shakes his head.
"I understand." Luka pulls his hand out of Carter's scrubs and wiggles them in front of Carter's face. Carter can smell the want that Luka has caused all over them, and he has absolutely no shame in that. "But perhaps a little appetizer."
And so, Carter has to go to work for the rest of the day knowing what it looks like when Luka licks Carter's pussy juices off of his fingers.
It is so distracting that Abby actually asks him about his sobriety.
"I'm fine," he wants to say. "Your ex just gives good finger in the supply closet."
Or maybe he should say "How's his mouth?" But both seem crude, so instead, he assures her he's fine and also sober.
On Wednesday, they share a shift again.
This time, they meet in a supply closet. It is mercifully slow, and quiet - never for long, they both know - and Luka promises that can be quick. Carter's back is again up against the door, but this time one of Luka's impossibly strong arms holds up one of Carter's legs while Luka fucks Carter up against the door.
In the emptiness of the supply room, the sound of Luka's dick slamming into his pussy over and over again is obscene, and Carter is certain the entire Emergency Department can hear it; what's more, Carter wants to shout his newfound delight so there can never be any doubt just how good it is.
"You look so good," Luka tells him. "I bet you taste even better. I want to taste you so much, John. Please. Please, please."
Each thrust into John is accompanied by another "please," and if Carter was a better person, it wouldn't be the thing that got him off; but he isn't, so he comes to the sound of Luka begging to eat him out.
And yet, he still tells Luka no.
"Okay. Perhaps after our date this weekend," Luka says.
Carter doesn't know what that is about, but he has to get back to his shift, which he does with Luka's finger prints on his thighs and Luka's come in his pussy.
"Seriously, are you feeling okay?" Abby asks him, mid-shift. "You seem pretty flushed."
Carter laughs, which makes Abby look even more worried, and he wonders how soon he is going to have to piss in a cup if this keeps up. "I'm fine, Abby. I promise."
She doesn't seem like she believes him. Maybe that's fair. If their roles were reversed, maybe he wouldn't believe her, either.
Luka invites Carter to his apartment for their date. Luka's idea of a date is a homecooked meal.
"Where I come from, when someone matters to you, you share the meals of your family with them," Luka says as he places a plate in front of Carter.
"I matter to you?" Carter doesn't mean to say it quite so bluntly, but ... well, Luka is fingering and fucking him in suture rooms and supply closets. That doesn't have to mean anything, and historically, hasn't.
There are at least three stages of grief on Luka's face at Carter's comment, and suddenly, Carter feels very small - the way he often felt during their petty, petty arguments (he can admit now that they were petty.) Before he can apologize or take his words back, Luka says, "John, we fight battles together, every day. We have, for years. And yet, your blood has been on my hands. That is not something that is easy for someone like me to get over."
No, Carter supposes; A man who had survived a war would never get over the feeling of his co-worker's blood all over his hands. "Even after all the times I've been an ass?"
Luka chuckles. "It is impossible to fight any fight by yourself. I believe we have both made mistakes."
Yes. No. Carter wants to agree, and he wants to argue. He wants to argue that he was worse, the Luka was worse - that neither of them were.
But he knows it doesn't matter, because if Lucy hadn't died and Carter hadn't been stabbed, maybe none of the fights would even have happened anyway. Maybe the Carter he was would have been ... less ready to fight all of the time about everything.
He thinks about it while they eat. He thinks about how differently it might have been, had Luka came along during Carter's intern year or the very healthily slutty medical student years. Maybe Luka would have taken Harper or Abby Keaton's place, back when things had been so easy, so fun, and so uncomplicated.
"You look very thoughtful tonight," Luka says as he puts away the dishes.
"A lot on my mind," Carter admits. "The food was delicious, by the way. I'm stuffed. Are you?"
"No." Luka comes to stand in front of him, his hands instantly circling Carter's waist. "I'm still famished."
"Tell me," Carter murmurs. "Tell me how hungry you still are."
Luka tips Carter's chin up to meet his gaze. "I want to taste every inch of you. I especially want to shove my tongue between your folds and lick, suck, and drink until your juices run down my chin and you are the one begging, this time for me to stop, because you cannot stand one more moment of my tongue. I want to taste you, John, please. It is the only thing that has consumed me since you first spread your legs to me, and it has driven me to distraction every day since. It is all I can think of. Please, please, please."
How is he supposed to say no to that? More importantly, he doesn't want to say no. Not anymore.
"Well, I don't beg easy," Carter says, "But you're free to give it your best shot."
"Oh, I will," Luka promises.
Since it is Luka, Carter never admits how badly he loses the argument, but he does, repeatedly, thoroughly, and with great enthusiasm.