Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chicago Med had its fair share of gossip, but one recurring theme — especially among the nurses, and, yes, a few doctors — was Will Halstead’s apparent, infuriating singlehood.

Dr. Will Halstead: smart, charming, red‑haired, with that infuriatingly earnest smile that made patients trust him instantly. He was polite, considerate, and had just enough rough‑around‑the‑edges Chicago grit to make him even more appealing.

It didn’t help that he never talked about a relationship. Not once. No names dropped in passing. No weekend getaway mentions. No suspicious phone calls with someone whose tone was anything but professional.

To most people, that meant one thing: Will Halstead was fair game.

Natalie Manning had never admitted to herself — out loud — that she found Will attractive. But she had noticed how good he looked when he was explaining a complicated case to a patient’s family, his voice low and steady. She also noticed he didn’t seem to be pursuing anyone.

Connor Rhodes, on the other hand, had a very different type of interest — more competitive than romantic, but no less focused. Will was good with people. Too good. Patients liked him. Staff liked him. And somewhere under all that, Connor found himself wondering if Will could be persuaded to grab a drink sometime. For camaraderie. Or something.

Then there were the nurses — some openly flirting, others waiting for the right moment. All assuming the same thing: Will Halstead was unattached.

That assumption lasted until precisely 2:14 on a Wednesday afternoon.

The day had been routine enough. Natalie and Will had been discussing a patient’s care in the ED when Sharon Goodwin’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Dr. Halstead, please come to the front desk. Someone’s here for you.”

Will frowned. “That’s… odd. I didn’t order anything.”

Natalie smirked. “Maybe it’s a secret admirer.”

Will gave her a look that said not funny and started toward the front. Natalie followed under the guise of needing to check something at reception. Connor, passing by, saw them and decided he might as well tag along — because if Will had a surprise visitor, Connor wanted to see who it was.

The ED reception area was its usual mix of bustle and mild chaos, but standing right at the counter — tall, broad‑shouldered, with a presence that made heads turn — was a man in a fitted dark coat. His hair was neatly styled, his expression calm but alert, eyes scanning the room until they landed on Will.

The man’s face lit up instantly. “There you are.”

And before anyone could process what was happening, he stepped forward, wrapped an arm around Will’s waist, and kissed him.

Not a quick, polite kiss. A full, unhurried, absolutely‑no‑room‑for‑interpretation kiss.

Natalie froze mid‑step. Connor blinked hard, as if maybe he’d misread the entire thing. The nurses behind the desk went silent, mouths open. Someone in the waiting area let out a low whistle.

Will, for his part, didn’t look remotely surprised. He smiled against the kiss, leaning in, and when they finally broke apart, his voice was warm and easy. “What are you doing here?”

“Finished my meetings early,” the man replied. “Thought I’d pick you up. Maybe we can grab dinner before heading home.”

Natalie’s brain snagged on heading home.

Will glanced at the desk staff — all staring openly — and seemed to realise exactly how much of an audience they had. “Everyone, this is my husband, Alex.”

The word husband hit like a defibrillator charge.

Connor’s eyebrows shot up. Natalie’s mouth opened, then closed again. A nurse somewhere in the back muttered, “Husband?” like she’d just been told Santa Claus was real.

Alex extended a polite hand toward Natalie and Connor, entirely unfazed by the stunned silence. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about the people Will works with.”

Natalie shook his hand on reflex. Connor did the same, still processing.

“You never said you were married,” Natalie managed finally.

Will’s smile was small but a little sheepish. “Didn’t think it mattered.”

Connor snorted under his breath. “Guess that explains why you never took me up on drinks.”

Alex glanced at Will with a raised brow. “Drinks?”

“Professional drinks,” Will said quickly, shooting Connor a look that said don’t start.

Alex’s smile turned just slightly sharper — not unkind, but with an unmistakable edge of mine. His arm tightened almost imperceptibly around Will’s waist. “Well. Now you know.”

Someone — it might have been Doris at the desk — murmured, “There goes the last shred of hope.”

Will caught it and winced. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Alex leaned down just enough for only Will to hear. “I’m not sorry.”

And with that, he steered Will toward the exit, hand still firm on his hip, leaving behind a trail of wide‑eyed doctors, deflated nurses, and one Connor Rhodes shaking his head with a faint, reluctant smile.

The gossip mill would be running for weeks.