fandom_clinic | FTEC, Wednesday, Evening Shift [Dec 12]

Where Ronan is slaving away.

Peter came into the clinic, carrying a bag. "Hey. What's a guy gotta do to get medical attention around here?"

Ronan jerked up from his math homework. "Peter? What's wrong?" were the first words out of his mouth, followed up by a quick glance up and down. "... You're not actually here for medical attention, are you?"

"Weirdest thing," Peter said, his expression deadpan. "I felt fine earlier today but then as the day went on there was like this sort of empty feeling. Right here." He gestured towards his stomach. "It's only been getting worse with time. I figured I should see someone about it."

Ronan grinned. "Well, I could take a look at that for you," he said. "Although my initial diagnosis is likely that you're hungry. There's only one cure for that."

"Is it eating Chinese food with a friend?" Peter asked. He held up the bag he was carrying. "Because if it is I'm at least a third of the way there."

"Two-thirds, I would say," Ronan replied, clearing away his math things. "You have the food, and you have the friend. All that remains is eating it. Please tell me you got chicken balls."

"Seems a little personal when we've only been on two dates," Peter teased. He started putting out various containers of food. Yes, there were only two people eating. Being Italian meant that Peter was genetically incapable of providing anything less than at least three times the amount they needed.

Being... well, being Ronan, Ronan was well familiar with the phenomenon. "Thank you," he said, as he looked at all the food. "This is fantastic. Especially since I skipped supper."

Peter took a seat and helped himself to some fried rice. "Figured I'd surprise you. I'm not in the way or anything, am I?"

Ronan shook his head. "Not at all; my shifts are usually quiet, and there aren't any patients, so. Nothing to be in the way of." He grinned. "In fact, I can't think of a better way to spend the shift." Well, he could think of a few, but he figured he'd leave those until much later in the relationship, if things went that far.

"Not even studying?" Peter teased, indicating Ronan's math books.

"Please, it's maths," Ronan said, laughing. "I won't have a problem with the final. I use it for wizardry, so it's more just a refresher than anything."

"I'm not sure if it's an improvement that you're apparently doing it for fun," Peter said, grinning at him. "Makes me think I've got to get you a new hobby."

"Anything in mind?" Ronan asked. Cheekily. He dug into some egg foo yung. "'ve never thought about picking any more hobbies."

"I might have a suggestion or two," Peter replied. "Depends on if you're nice to me."

"Oh? And how nice, exactly, do I need to be?" Ronan grinned. "I mean, I can be very nice, but a little guidance never hurt anyone."

"I'll let you know." It was possible Peter winked at him. Or maybe that was a trick of the light. "So what are you doing after finals?"

Ronan shrugged. "Not sure yet. I might be spending some time over the holidays with some friends on Long Island. What about you?"

"Home," Peter said. "Probably head on up on Christmas Eve. Make it back in time for Midnight Mass."

Ronan nodded. "Good thing to get back for," he said, opening another container and finding -- aha! -- chicken balls. "I figure I'll try to get home at some point over the holidays, but..." He shrugged. "It's probably easier if I don't."

"Practically or emotionally?" Peter asked. "And feel free to tell me to mind my own business."

I am bored bored-ity bored bored bored. Bored bored.

Top left hand drawer in the front desk. All kinds of condoms in there. Just sayin'.

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Exam Rooms

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