Anything but Equinox

by Anonymous

Summary:

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “Fine, I guess. It just – ever since we’ve gotten back together, things feel a little … formal.”

“Formal?” Carol pulls a face. “What does that even mean? Like Bridgerton formal?”

“I don’t think I know who that is,” Oliver says flatly. “Is he the new guy in psych? Anyway, it’s just – it’s like Josh is tiptoeing around me all the time. That’s not us. He used to … confront me about things.”

Notes:

• For Karios.

“Who is the hot guy?” Carol asks, slipping through the half-open office door into the room.

Puzzled, Oliver looks up from his patient notes. “What hot guy?”

Carol raises her brows meaningfully. “The one in Josh’s office.”

Oliver frowns. “How am I supposed to know?” he asks, a little impatiently. Something in these notes is the key to a diagnosis, he can feel it, but now he’s lost his train of thought. “New intern? Patient? Cleaning staff?”

“Nuh-uh.” Carol shakes her head emphatically. “Definitely someone he knows personally. They seem really friendly.”

“Right,” Oliver says stiffly. The last thing he wants is to give into Carol’s invitation to gossip, and he really needs to get back to these test results … but of course now he’s thinking about it. Why are strange men going in and out of Josh’s office, why are they hot, and why does Oliver not know about them?

“How are you guys doing anyway?” Carol asks now, demonstratively casually, and Oliver takes off his glasses to drag a weary hand across his eyes. He’s glad, he’s so glad that Carol is finally back to work after her unvoluntary administrative leave, but her return also means that he now has to talk about personal issues at work again – personal issues he’d really rather ignore most of the time.

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “Fine, I guess. It just – ever since we’ve gotten back together, things feel a little … formal.”

“Formal?” Carol pulls a face. “What does that even mean? Like Bridgerton formal?”

“I don’t think I know who that is,” Oliver says flatly. “Is he the new guy in psych? Anyway, it’s just – it’s like Josh is tiptoeing around me all the time. That’s not us. He used to … confront me about things.”

“I remember you not loving that either,” Carol points out, ever the psychoanalyst, and Oliver groans.

“It was incredibly irritating,” he concedes. “But I loved it.” He puts his face into his hands. “I mean. I needed it. That’s how I knew he was taking me seriously. Was taking us seriously. I never really had that with anyone I dated before. Now I feel like he is just worried about setting me off. Like I’m a landmine that’s going to blow up if he puts his foot down in the wrong spot.”

Carol weighs her head. “You did kind of run out on him.”

“Yeah, because my dad walked back into my life and my mom lied to me and you – “ He throws up his hands. “Why am I even telling you this, you were there for all of it.”

“Yes, and I understand that you had very good reasons to be a little … out of sorts,” she says appeasingly. “But the point is, he also has reasons to be a bit more cautious now. Just give him time. You are not the only one who’s been burnt before, you know?”

“Right.” Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose, unhappily. “How is it again that you know more about his previous failed relationships than I do?”

“I know because he is my friend,” Carol smiles, with a hint of smug satisfaction. “And I used to try and set him up with perfectly nice guys for years, but for some reason he decided to go out with you instead.”

“Very funny,” Oliver says flatly. “Really, hilarious.”

“Do you have sex?” Carol asks abruptly, and Oliver glances nervously at the door, narrowing his eyes at the people he can see walking down the hallway through the gap.

“Keep it down, will you?” he grumbles. “And yes,” he adds primly. “We have sex. Lots of it, actually, thank you very much. But it just feels so … “

“…formal?” Carol asks, brows raised, and Oliver sighs.

“Yes,” he nods gravely. “Formal.”

“Well,” Carol says evenly. “I am just saying. There is no reason you can’t walk down the hallway to neurosurgery and take a peek inside to see who’s in there with the guy who is formally your boyfriend.”

“Right,” Oliver says. “Because I’m so good at recognizing people I’ve seen only once or twice.”

Carol shakes her head. “You don’t need to recognize the man, Wolf,” she says. “You just need to recognize Josh’s expression when he looks at him.”

Oliver opens his mouth to tell her that this sounds like the kind of game he is most definitely at least two decades too old for, but Carol has already snuck out the door, as quickly as she came in – no doubt she knows him well enough to anticipate what he was about to say.

He shakes his head in mild exasperation, then looks down at his patient notes, trying to shift his focus back to his work, but his mind keeps drifting in frustrating ways.

The thing is, Oliver thinks, whether he and Josh are dating or not, it’s really none of his business what random men do in Josh’s office. Josh Nichols is a successful, sought-after surgeon at a busy hospital, people come and go to see him all day –

He is out of his chair before he can even finish that thought.

 

“Hey,” he says, pushing the door to Josh’s office open further, and then stops abruptly, doing his best to act surprised at the sight of another person sitting across from Josh at this desk: “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”

Really, he tells himself, Carol is right. There is no harm in checking in on Josh’s office. He does it all the time. Often, he knocks on the doorframe and sticks his head in – okay, he doesn’t usually knock, but that’s neither here nor there – because they are coworkers and they are dating and normal people check in on their … coworker-boyfriends throughout the day. Oliver is sure of it. Almost.

“Wolf,” Josh says, a little surprised but cordially enough. If he can see at all through Oliver’s charade, at least he doesn’t let it show. In fact, he actually beckons him into the office with a gesture that doesn’t leave much room for protest.

 “I’m glad you stopped by. Do you have a minute? I would like to get your opinion.”

“Opinion on …” Oliver asks hesitantly, glancing back and forth between Josh and the stranger sitting by his desk.

“A case,” Josh fills in the blank, the duh heavily implied. “Well. More specifically, a consultation for an old friend.” He gestures. “This is Eric Chung. Eric, this is Wolf.”

“Oh!” At the mention of his name, the man in front of Josh’s desk turns around and gives Oliver a friendly little wave. “So you are Wolf,” he smiles. “It’s great to actually meet you in person.”

“Likewise, I’m sure,” Oliver says flatly, feeling distinctly off his game. Apparently Eric knows things about him, while Oliver has no recollection of seeing his face before. He isn’t even sure if he’s supposed to remember who Eric Chung is.

At his response, Josh’s jovial expression turns into something a little more pointed, subtle enough that a casual bystander might not even notice, but Oliver can understand the I expect you to behave Josh is communicating with his brows just fine. Of course, what he doesn’t know is whether Eric is the sort of casual bystander likely to miss their silent exchange, or if he’s … something else.

“Eric has noticed some concerning changes lately,” Josh continues then, his features shifting back into professional neutrality. “He’s hoping that I can give him some answers. We already did some imaging, and of course we’ll be running more tests, but I would really like for you to talk to him as well. Honestly, I think there’s a good chance this will fall into your area of expertise more than mine, and –“

The shrill beeping of his pager interrupts him abruptly, and he grimaces as he glances down at the device. “Uhm,” he makes, sounding flustered. “I’m sorry, Eric, I’m afraid they need me in the OR.”

“Of course,” Eric nods quickly, gesturing encouragingly. “No worries. I know you do important work.”

An irrational spark of annoyance prickles in Oliver’s throat at Eric’s easy understanding, annoyance that only intensifies when Josh sends Eric a smile that is grateful and apologetic at once.

“It’s really good to see you again, Eric,” he says. “I will call you as soon as I have the test results, but in the meantime, you should stick around and speak with Dr. Wolf,” he continues, nodding toward Oliver. “He really is the best at what he does.”

Oliver raises his brows at him, and a hint of uncertainty creeps into Josh’s expression, as if he is genuinely unsure of Oliver’s response. “Do you mind, Wolf?” he asks, not quite pleading, and Oliver thinks he probably should be grateful, considering that merely five minutes ago, he was talking to Carol about how he wishes Josh wasn’t so guarded around him all the time.

After the past few weeks they’ve had, the fact that Josh is now openly asking Oliver for this kind of favor is basically a miracle in itself. It’s true that Oliver might have preferred if this development didn’t involve a mysterious attractive man from Josh’s past, but regardless of what complicated dance he and Josh are engaged in right now, Oliver would like to believe that they are professional enough not to let their patients suffer from it, and at the end of the day, Eric Chung is here to ask for their medical expertise.

“Of course,” he says, and sends what he hopes is a reassuring smile in the stranger’s direction. “I do have some time before my next appointment. Go,” he adds for Josh’s sake, makes a playfully shooing motion, “cut open a brain, save a life, we’ll be fine,” and Josh’s grimace somehow manages to convey his disapproval of Oliver’s choice of words even as he mouths a silent Thank you at him.

Then he’s gone, and Oliver finds himself sitting down in the chair behind Josh’s desk, looking at the man in front of him. He studies him more closely, tries to pick up on the details that allow him to recognize someone. Takes in the wide shoulders, the short black hair, the elegantly curved eyebrows, the row of perfectly even white teeth, and thinks it’s no wonder Carol was instantly taken with him.

“So how do you know Josh?” he asks, trying to cover up for the fact that he’s been silent for too long. He thinks he’s doing a decent job hitting the tone of casual small talk rather than making it sound like an interrogation, but Eric just stares at him, surprised.

“Oh,” he says. “I’m sorry. I figured Josh had told you … what with you being … never mind. Anyway. Josh and I were together in the Navy.”

Oliver tilts his head. “So you are an old military buddy.”

“No,” Eric says slowly, as if he’s wondering inwardly whether he is accidentally betraying Josh’s confidence here. “We were together in the Navy.”

“Ah,” Oliver makes, as several pieces fall into place. “You are the DADT boyfriend.”

Eric chokes out surprised laughter. “I’ve never been called that before.” He shrugs, seeming mostly unfazed. “But yeah, I suppose that’s me.”

“Sorry,” Oliver says, embarrassed that it took him so long to connect the dots. “I think he showed me a picture at some point, but I’m – not great with faces. And you were all in uniform. I barely recognized Josh in that photo either.”

“Well,” Eric smiles good-naturedly. “We were also about 25 years younger back then, so I’m sure I look very different now.”

“I didn’t realize you’ve been keeping in touch,” Oliver frowns, and even as the words leave his mouth, he realizes how that must sound. The absolutely last thing he wants is to come across like a paranoid possessive boyfriend who can’t stand the idea of his partner still talking to anyone he’s ever fucked. It’s just that – well. He thought he was the one keeping secrets, and he feels irrationally put out at the thought that Josh might have been keeping secrets too.

But already Eric shakes his head with a rueful little sigh. “Not really,” he concedes. “Mostly through the veterans’ groups we are both in, but we didn’t – we haven’t talked much, honestly. Which is almost entirely my fault,” he adds hastily, “just to be clear. And I am fully aware that it’s probably a little obnoxious of me to show up here out of the blue … I mean, who does that? Cut off contact with someone and then show up twenty years later to ask for help?”

Oliver thinks of his father. “You’d be surprised,” he scoffs.

“Yeah, well,” Eric says, shifting in his seat, and Oliver suddenly notices that his posture is a little off. “I don’t know a lot about what his life is like now, not the details. But I know enough to realize that he’s a damn good doctor, and I trust him with my life.” He shrugs, gestures. “And obviously he trusts you, so …”

“Right,” Oliver says. Now that he's paying attention, he recognizes the telltale signs: the faint tremor in Eric's right hand. the rigidity of his smile. the way he leans sideways in his chair. 

He folds his hands on the desk. “I’m sorry. I know you are here because you have concerns about your health, not to reminisce about your time in the military. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

 

“So,” Josh says, hours later. He is sitting on the couch in Oliver’s office, forearms propped up on his thighs, hands folded in the gap between his legs, fingers still scrubbed pink from his usual post-surgery ritual. “What do you think?”

Oliver is tempted to remind him of the hand lotion he knows is sitting in the drawer of Josh’s desk, but he has a feeling that Josh might interpret that as a derailment strategy. “Your DADT boyfriend seems nice,” he ventures carefully instead.

Josh stares at him. “Really?” he huffs, like he’s not sure whether to be amused or annoyed. “When was the last time you decided that someone is nice within the first 30 minutes of meeting them?”

Oliver shrugs. He knows it’s not the kind of thing he is known for saying, but it’s also not a lie: Eric Chung is a nice man. Much nicer than Oliver, as a matter of fact. Not as irritable, not as thin-skinned, not as prickly, not as odd as Oliver, and that doesn’t necessarily make him particularly relatable, but it does raise the question why Josh is not with him anymore. Except Oliver isn’t sure he should be asking, because he doesn’t know if he’d be happy with the answer he’d get.

“Well,” he says in the end. “I may be biased. He clearly thinks very highly of you.”

Josh raises his brows. “Funny,” he says pointedly, “considering how little you thought of me when we first met.”

Oliver frowns. “That’s not –“ he starts to protest, then pauses as he takes in Josh’s tight jaw, the drawn brows. It’s certainly possible that Josh is trying to pick a fight with him on purpose, but knowing him, it’s much more likely he is simply worn down and understandably on edge, and Oliver doesn’t actually want to add to his stress.

“So how long were you together?” he asks instead, and even as he says it, he realizes that he probably should have asked this question a long time ago. He thinks of that day on the gun range, when Josh so unexpectedly confided in him between showing him how to load and shoot a gun. He could have asked then, and Josh might have even told him – but Oliver had been too preoccupied with his medical mystery, and then somehow it never came up again.

If Josh is bothered by Oliver’s previous lack of interest in his romantic history, he doesn’t say. “Six years,” he simply answers, sounding strangely self-conscious, as if he's confessing something, though Oliver doesn’t quite understand why.

“Oh,” he makes, dumbfounded. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

“Well.” Josh weighs his head. “We were in the closet for much of that time, and on deployment, so in a way it was … both extremely serious and not very serious at all. It’s hard to describe.” He pulls up his shoulders. “But I was pretty crushed when it ended.”

Oliver thinks of Carol, thinks of the way she said You are not the only one who’s been burnt before. “He broke up with you?” he asks. He may have to reconsider his previous assessment of Eric Chung. Perhaps he isn’t that nice, after all.

Josh snorts. “I appreciate you acting like that’s an outrageous concept,” he says wryly. “But no. Or, yes. It’s complicated.” He sighs. “I wanted to leave the service, get into med school. He wanted to stay in the military, and that meant staying in the closet at the time, and I just … couldn’t do that anymore. Not even for him.”

“I take it he didn’t stay in the closet forever,” Oliver says. “Seeing as how he introduced himself to me as your ex.”

Josh sighs. “Yeah, how about that.” He gestures, like he is literally trying to sweep the topic off the table with his big hand. “But that’s all water under the bridge. And by the way, when I asked you just now what you think, I was actually wondering what you are making of his symptoms.”

“Oh,” Oliver says, feeling his face grow hot. “Of course.” He clears his throat. “Well, we should obviously wait for the text results. But from what I can see, my best guess right now is that it looks a lot like early-onset Parkinson's.”

“Yeah,” Josh groans, and presses the back of his hand against his eyes, like he has been expecting Oliver’s answer and still somehow was hoping for a different one. “Fuck.”

“You know, comparatively speaking,” Oliver says encouragingly, “it’s one of the better alternatives. I know there is no cure, but it’s so much more manageable now, with much better outcomes than some other degenerative diseases. It will not even significantly decrease his life expectancy.”

“I know,” Josh sighs. “I know all that.” He shakes his head. “But – look, we were together for a long while, and I hadn’t seen him in years, and now I will have to tell him that he has an uncurable neurological disease but that he probably should be grateful, because it really could be so much worse.” He pauses. “And yes, I am fully aware that a lot of this probably feels very familiar to you because, well, your dad, but – I just need a moment here, okay?”

He looks up at Oliver, his gaze half pleading, half defensive, and even though Oliver knows quite well that it’s an inappropriate response in the face of Josh’s obvious emotional turmoil, for a brief moment all he can feel is relief. They may have been back together for weeks, but this is the first time Josh is actually asking things of him, isn’t afraid to snap at him either, the way he felt comfortable doing before – before, and that more than anything gives Oliver hope.

“Can I hug you?” he asks, spontaneously.

Josh blinks. “What?”

“Can I – “ Oliver gestures, a little awkwardly. “Can I – I’d like to hug you. If that’s –“

Josh raises his brows. “Who are you and what have you done to Dr. Oliver Wolf?”

Oliver grimaces. “Don’t do that, please. I know I’m not great at this stuff, and we probably still have some things to work though, and but can we just –“ He inhales. “I just would like to be there for you right now. If you want me to.”

Josh stares at him for a long moment, like he’s figuring out if he’s being tested, like he thinks this might be some kind of psychological experiment, and Oliver tries not to bristle at the doubt he sees in Josh’s eyes, just does his best to convey his genuine intent.

Then, finally, Josh’s gaze drifts toward the closed door, his shoulders dropping in something like resignation, or perhaps relief. “A hug would be nice,” he says, a little hesitantly.

Oliver doesn’t give him any chance to change his mind. He pushes himself out of his chair and walks around the coffee table to sit down on the couch next to Josh. When he opens his arms, Josh promptly falls into him, leans against his chest, presses his face into the crook of Oliver’s neck, and Oliver has never been a big hugger – perhaps the understatement of the century – but in this moment, he realizes just how much he has missed hugging Josh, has missed being physically close to him in ways that aren’t immediately about sex.

Then Josh sniffles a little against his shoulder, as if perhaps he’s choking back actual tears, and already Oliver feels guilty for enjoying this moment perhaps a little too much while Josh is clearly still trying to process big, negative news.

“I’m very sorry Eric forced you to break up with him,” he says, and Josh blinks up at him, somehow managing to look both teary-eyed and dubious at once.

“Are you really?” he asks, brows raised, and Oliver shakes his head.

“No,” he admits, a little too honestly, and Josh's answering laughter wobbles a little but nevertheless sounds genuinely amused. “That’s what I thought,” he replies, without lifting his head off Oliver’s chest.

“I am sorry that he hurt you though,” Oliver says seriously. “And I’m sorry that I hurt you too, you know.”

He is pretty sure it’s the right thing to say, but he half regrets it when Josh untangles himself and sits up straight, putting physical distance between them again.

“Look, I told you, I get it,” Josh says, pressing his knuckles into the bridge of his nose. “You had a lot on your plate. It’s not every day your past comes to haunt you like that. Although,” he adds sardonically, pointing at Eric’s preliminary test results on the table, “I guess it does happen more often than you’d think. But this whole – pushing me away, running away thing – I already went through that with Eric, the only other man I thought, naïvely perhaps, I might spend the rest of my life with at some point.”

“The only other man?” Oliver asks, stupefied. An oddly warm, tight sensation is suddenly taking over his chest. 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Josh warns him, but Oliver notices that he also doesn’t take it back. “And don’t even start on how I might just have a type – he is extremely serious about football, you and him are nothing alike. You are both conflict-avoidant because you are both men, that’s all.”

Oliver frowns. “You are a man, too.”

“Yes,” Josh nods pointedly. “A mature one who has mastered the skill of critical self-reflection.”

“And apparently suffers from an acute case of megalomania,” Oliver retorts dryly, and then abruptly, unexpectedly feels like crying.

“I just really miss you,” he says, and Josh looks at him, confused.

“I’m right here. And I was at your house last night. You do remember that, right? The part where I went down -”

“Yes,” Oliver concedes hastily. “Yes. And that was great. Mind-blowing, even. But - don't take this the wrong way, but it all just feels so … formal. Like you are walking on eggshells around me. We don’t argue anymore. I don’t want it to be that way. I want to go back to what it was like before. And I promise, I’m working on – hmph,” he makes, undignified, because that’s when Josh wraps a large hand around the back of his neck and kisses him.

Kisses him properly, in the confusingly unique way he does, at once confident and a little restrained, sensual and a little forceful, and Oliver has a hard time remembering what it was he was about to say, but he is quite certain that it can wait.

“Dr. Wolf, have you seen – woah,” Dana exclaims, and they break apart at the sudden interruption, staring up at her standing in the open doorway, staring back at them.

“Never mind,” she says breathlessly, her eyes still wide as saucers. “Please pretend I wasn’t here.” The door closes again behind her, with perhaps a little more force than strictly necessary.

“Well,” Oliver says evenly. “So much for keeping things quiet.”

“Right, because you are generally so good at being quiet,” Josh says. He smirks. “But you do realize this means we can’t really break up again.”

“It ... does?” Oliver asks slowly.

Josh raises his brows. “Think about it. The only thing more mortifying than your interns walking in on us would be for them to find out we broke up. Our professional reputation would never recover.”

 “You make a valid point,” Oliver nods gravely. “Since you are catching me in a soft moment, is there anything else I can do to assure the success of this long-term plan?”

 “Two things,” Josh says promptly, almost as if he’s rehearsed this part of the conversation in advance, and Oliver narrows his eyes at him, suspiciously.

“I’m not going to Equinox with you.”

Josh scowls. “I see our chances of lasting even three more hours dwindling rapidly.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Oliver says hastily, then freezes, frowns. “You were not actually going to ask me to go to Equinox with you, right?”

“No, I'm not asking you to get a gym membership,” Josh says dryly. He clears his throat. “But I do want you to take Eric on as a patient.”

Oliver blinks. “You want me to – treat your DADT boyfriend.”

Josh rolls his eyes. “First, you really shouldn’t call him that. Second, ex-boyfriend. Third, ex-boyfriend I haven’t been with for over two decades. Fourth, ex-boyfriend that I still want to get good medical care, and luckily, you are the best neurologist I know, so …”

“Fine,” Oliver nods. “I’d say flattery will get you nowhere, but we both know that’s not true, and anyway. Yes. If he’s – I’d be honored. And I promise I will do whatever I can to help him.”

"I know," Josh says simply. "That's why I asked."

Oliver swallows. “What’s the second thing?”

Josh looks at him from hooded eyes. “I want you to come to my house tonight and let me fuck you," he says, his voice low and rough, and Oliver feels a spark of heat flickering in the small of his back.

“That’s quite forward of you, Dr. Nichols,” he says, struggling to keep his tone neutral even as arousal prickles in his spine.

Josh quirks a brow at him. “Is that a no?”

Oliver shakes his head. “You are so lucky you are cute,” he says emphatically. Then he leans in for another kiss, and they are still kissing, minutes later, when one of Josh’s interns bursts through the door.