Learn to Fly

Disclaimer: I don't own St. Elsewhere.

Warning: Non-explicit mentions of previous (canon) non-con.

They were in the bedroom in Victor Ehrlich's apartment, lying on a bed that seemed determined on collapsing beneath them, when the inevitable question was raised.

It was Ehrlich who asked it. Of course it would be. After all, his reputation for not having a great amount of tact was well-earned.

Then again, they'd been together a week, so someone was bound to ask it eventually.

"What are we going to do about, you know, sex?" Ehrlich was on his back, looking at the ceiling, when he asked it.

"I don't know," Morrison admitted. "I mean… you know why I'm a bit… reluctant."

"Of course. And I'd never pressure you." Morrison grinned.

"You're a pig, Ehrlich," he teased. "But don't worry. I know you wouldn't. And, well, I don't know. I could give it a try, I just… don't know how it'll go."

"Are you, I mean, I guess I ought to ask – how are you after all of this?" Ehrlich inquired.

"Better than I was," Morrison replied wryly. "Going to Seattle was a good call. I needed it. But coming back was a good call, too." He looked down at his knuckles. "I thought I fell in love out there. Old high school sweetheart. But… this whole thing was too much for her. I'd get… weird… when she touched me. My heart would beat out of my chest. Panic attack, I guess.""

"Well, her loss," Ehrlich replied, rolling over to spoon against the taller man. "Do you get weird when I touch you?"

Morrison chuckled.

"I guess you could say that," he teased, snuggling against Ehrlich. "This is all new to me. It's kind of exciting. And I… I don't know. I trust you."

"If you don't want to try this…" Ehrlich began, "If it's way too soon…"

"No, I'm fine. Physically, pretty much," Morrison explained, gesturing to his healed jaw, "It's just… the psychological stuff."

"Do they think you have PTSD?"

Morrison shook his head.

"Not that severe, though it's too soon to really tell," he replied, "They said maybe Rape Trauma Syndrome." He swallowed, hard, an obvious effort in even saying the word. His eyes slipped closed and he was back there, the prison infirmary, the hands holding him down…

"Jack?" Ehrlich asked.

He really didn't want to do this. But if he could do it without freaking out, well, there was another way to say "fuck you" to the man who had done this to him. Another way to never allow him to win.

"Let's do it."

Ehrlich was a bit concerned at the pale look in Morrison's face, and inquired as to whether he was sure.

"Yes. Let's do it."

They went back to kissing then, soft and gentle, playful. Their tongues battled against each other like a game of Pong.

Shirts came off, slowly, before Ehrlich started to kiss down Morrison's back, running his tongue over a trail of bruises, hand-shaped bruises that ran from Morrison's shoulder down to just above his ass.

Morrison must have noticed him staring, because he whispered, "It's okay. Doesn't hurt."

"It doesn't?" Ehrlich asked, surprised.

"I feel all swimmy," Morrison replied, "I don't think I can feel pain right now." Ehrlich pressed his lips against Morrison's again, and this time he deepened the kiss, nipped at Morrison's lower lip, and reached back to squeeze his ass.

Morrison grinned when the kiss broke.

"You're a pig, Ehrlich." He laid down on his side, spreading his legs slowly. "Are we going to do this?"

"Do you want to, Jack?"

The reply was so resounding it surprised even Morrison himself.


"Very happy to hear that," Ehrlich replied with a cheeky grin. He reached out, yanking on his khakis. "Need to get you out of these, I suppose."

"That might help," Morrison agreed, helping his colleague by kicking them off. Ehrlich was even less elegant in his disrobing, and his pants clipped Morrison's shoulder as they went through the air.

"I gotta grab… something," Ehrlich pointed out, climbing off the bed and going to the night table, the drawer of which he managed to nearly pull out of it entirely when he finally got it opened.

But he'd found the bottle of KY, and that was the important thing. Not to mention, Morrison had a huge grin on his face and was chuckling contently at Ehrlich's clumsiness.

He managed to get he cap off, after a few nervous turns, and began to make little circles in the gel with his finger. He slowly moved back towards Morrison, letting the taller doctor watch what he was doing.

"Still okay?"

"As okay as the last time you asked."

Ehrlich grinned There was some maneuvering before Morrison ended up on his knees in front of his colleague.

"Okay, I'm going to start, now," Ehrlich told him. "But if anything is the matter, tell me and I'll stop."

"Let's do this."

Ehrlich crouched down and ran one finger over Morrison's crack, slow and gentle.

"Y'know, this would seem totally clinical if it was just an exam," Morrison pointed out with a grin.

"I don't know," Ehrlich replied, sliding in the tip of his finger. "I've always felt a little weird doing prostate exams."

"Hopefully," Morrison said, moving forward a little and taking a deep breath, "Yours don't go quite like this!"

Ehrlich slipped his finger past Morrison's ring; so far, so good.

"This isn't too bad," Morrison relayed, "It's a little weird though. Not really uncomfortable. Go up a little bit, get my pro… Oooooh, there it is." Morrison bucked forward, his eyes slipping shut. His apprehension was melting by the second, and it seemed like the rest of him was, too.

"I guess that's the good thing about two doctors fucking," Ehrlich said with a chuckle, stroking Morrison's prostate again. "We know each other's anatomy." Morrison shivered.

"Oooh, my God, Victor. I can't even," he murmured, "Keep doing that." Ehrlich obliged, stroking again and again as Morrison rocked, his cock twitching and beginning to harden. Ehrlich responded by slicking up a second finger and sliding it in. Morrison let out a little moan and leaned forward. "God, Victor, jeez."

"Does that hurt at all?"

"I don't know. I guess not. It just feels a little awkward, but not painful. I think… I think I'm ready to go."

"You sure you don't want a third?"

"Nah," Morrison flashed what he hoped was a brave grin. "Let's go."

Ehrlich slowly withdrew his fingers, after another brush against the taller man's prostate. His hand returned to the tube, and Morrison turned his head to watch.

"D'you think we should…" Ehrlich started.

"It's up to you," Morrison replied, "They… cleared me, pretty much, after. I dodged a bullet. But you never know."

"Well, I know I'm fine," Ehrlich pointed out, "I haven't… Well, then again – Roberta. Let me get something." He grinned, and Morrison flopped temporarily against the bed.

"We should've thought of it earlier."

"Well, neither of us really makes a habit of engaging in gay sex," Ehrlich pointed out as he climbed off the bed and opened the drawer again, fishing out a condom and returning to the bed.

"There's so much that we don't even know about how it's spread…"

"No, Jack," Ehrlich mimed swatting Morrison's ass. "I am not interrupting our sex to discuss the AIDS epidemic. It's… depressing. And not at all erotic." Morrison moved up on his knees again.

"Then just put it on and let's get on with it."

"Welcome to the 80's," Ehrlich quipped as he opened the package and slid the condom over his cock, before adding some extra lube around it.

Morrison closed his eyes, waiting for the moment of entrance. He expected it to come combined with flashback, with panic, with –

He felt it. A pressure, pushing against his ring. He hunched forward and breathed deep and focused on relaxing.

No flashes of panic. No flashbacks. Not yet. This was utterly unlike what had happened in the prison. It didn't even really hurt, exactly, though there was a burn. Ehrlich had his hands on him and he opened his eyes. He was in Ehrlich's bedroom.

He was safe.

He'd survived.

It was the biggest rush he had ever felt.

"Victor," his voice was hoarse, raw, filled with need. He had to test it. "Harder."

"Are you sure?"


The surgery resident began to thrust, and on the way in he'd lean forward to nip and suck at Morrison's neck, run his fingers over it.

Every inch of him seemed to be alive, turned on, keyed on. Safe. Alive.

He'd come back. He'd needed to come back.

And now Ehrlich's hands were around his cock, giving him gentle strokes that quickly grew in intensity on every thrust, and Morrison didn't know if he'd be able to take it much longer.

It took all of his breath to speak, to cry out, "VICTOR!" as the blonde cried his name in turn and then…

And then all Jack Morrison saw was white. A clear, perfect white, like his eyes had rolled over. He slumped forward, collapsed against the pillow. He was vaguely aware of Ehrlich's cleaning up around him, but he was happy to simply curl up and let himself stay in the moment for a little longer.

He felt Ehrlich loop his arms around him and pull him close, nuzzling into his back.

"Mmm," Morrison murmured, "I think I could get used to this."

"Yeah," Ehrlich whispered back, "So could I."