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Orin wasn’t watching Seymour. Orin was reading the sign in the doorway. He was eyeing the strange and interesting plant in the window. He was waiting outside this ridiculous store for his girlfriend and if Seymour happened to pass his eyesight there was nothing he could do about that. If he, out of general boredom, examined the small man as he darted around the store, was that really so notable? If he watched with rapt attention as the man’s sweater slipped off his shoulder, his tiny stature making the item look giant, who could blame him? He was a unique kid. No, not unique. The Dentist chided himself. Weird. Seymour was a weird little man and Orin was looking at him out of pity. A morbid curiosity for an unusual weirdo.
Seymour studied a receipt and bit his lip. Orin swallowed.
“I’m so sorry I’m late Doctor. It won’t happen again Doctor!”
Audrey cried out in a fearful voice, forcing her coat on as she rushed to meet the leather-clad man. Orin grunted a response, a brow still furrowed as he considered the situation. He started his bike, the grating purr of the engine drowning out all thoughts of his frustration.
…
The next day Orin was early again. A new development had occurred. Seymour was sporting a hickey.
Orin knew a bite when he saw one, granted it was a weird shape and seemed to be unnaturally large, but what else could it be? It had to be a hickey. Who had given Seymour this hickey? Someone terrible at giving hickeys apparently. Orin could give a better hickey then whatever idiot had left this mark on Seymour. Orin could give Seymour a better hickey.
The Dentist slipped when he realised the thought that just crossed his mind, his bike nearly toppling as he leaned against it.
Seymour glanced out the main window at the commotion and the two met eyes. It was a fairly mundane encounter but Orin felt incredibly unnatural, as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Which he hadn’t. He couldn’t control his thoughts, if he had had any thoughts about Seymour, which he obviously had not because Seymour was beneath him and Orin didn’t care what Seymour did. Or who he slept with. Or who left those god damn marks all over his skin.
Orin was still staring.
Seymour flushed, obviously realising the same thing. He looked down quickly, returning to his plants.
Orin checked his bike for scratches and he did not think about how easily Seymour blushed or how low said blush might travel down the man’s body.
Orin swore. This might be getting out of hand.
…
Last night Orin had broken up with Audrey over the phone. If he had actually been paying attention to the call he might’ve noticed her excited response, tinged with disbelief.
But he was busy thinking about other things. Not bespectacled brunettes, obviously. Things like his new and freeing bachelor life, where he could do anything he wanted. Like go to strip clubs, or have threesomes, or wait outside of a crappy plant store on skid row, freezing his ass off in December hoping to see a man he didn’t like.
He could do any of those things.
Orin cursed himself, shivering as the snow thickened. He tightened his jacket and clenched his teeth. The kid wasn’t even in the store today. There were barely any customers, considering the weather and there was a note on the backboard reminding Seymour and Audrey that the store owner was going to be gone for a week. The place was dead and Orin was an idiot for staring inside the shop, waiting for something to happen. He climbed back onto his bike and willed himself to get out of there.
“She’s not here.”
Orin whipped around, taken surprise by the quiet voice.
“What?”
Seymour stood in the snow, pushing his glasses up as the lenses frosted over.
“Audrey, you just missed her.”
“Oh.” Orin replied lamely.
A pregnant silence settled between them.
“Guess I’ll go then-”
“No!”
Orin blinked in surprise and Seymour fidgeted uncomfortably, embarrassed at his volume.
“It’s s-supposed to get a lot worse before 7, especially on the roads. I doubt you’ll make it very far on a bike.” He mumbled.
Orin forced down his grin and tried to add some disdain to his voice.
“You worried about me kid?”
Okay, so that was a bit fonder then intended.
Seymour’s stutter increased.
“I-I just don’t think Audrey would be too happy if you died on the side of the road.”
The Dentist smirked.
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
Seymour seemed stunned by his frankness and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You c-can come inside if you like.”
Orin blinked.
“What?”
“While you wait. I… My place is downstairs.”
Orin was definitely smiling now.
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’m s-sorry?” Seymour blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting him to agree to the offer.
“Sure, lead the way.”
The small man nodded, eyes wide.
…
After the Dentist safely secured his bike in an adjacent garage and murmured ‘Goodnight Princess’ to it when he was certain Seymour was out of range, Orin made his way down to the basement.
The place was full of strange oddities; colourful potted plants, newspaper clippings about the store’s recent popularity and rusted gardening tools adorning every wall.
A first aid kit was sprawled on the main table, obvious blood splatter staining the lid.
“S-sorry about the mess.” Said Seymour, noticing the kit and hastily pushing them out of sight.
Orin shrugged his nonchalance and made his way around the room.
It was warmer in the basement so Seymour took off his coat and without thinking, rolled his sleeves up. Orin’s heart rate increased.
His hands and wrists were covered in bandages, those strange marks and bruises covering his arms.
“Some pretty nasty cuts.” Orin remarked, keeping his eyes forward.
Seymour choked, quickly pulling his sleeves down.
“It’s alright, girlfriend likes it rough, huh?”
Seymour turned completely red.
“No, that’s… Of course not. I don’t have a girlfriend. It’s just from the shop. I’m clumsy.”
Orin took off his own jacket and continued around the room. Seymour was staring at him, he could feel it.
The older man turned to him.
Seymour had an axe in his hand.
“Hey there, what’s happening here.”
Seymour quickly put the tool back on his workbench.
“I was just getting it out of the way.”
Orin nodded, stepping closer to Seymour.
“I know why you invited me down here Seymour.”
The botanist fidgeted, his eyes darting to the work-table.
“You do?”
Orin preened at the confession of an ulterior-motive. He thought this conversation was going to be a lot harder, but Seymour was folding like a paper man.
“I’ve seen you looking at me.”
He hadn’t, but he refused to believe he had the disadvantage in this dynamic.
“I never wanted to hurt-”
“You’re attracted to me.”
Seymour’s eyes widened.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re very obvious.” Orin teased, definitely not projecting.
The older man reached out, tilting Seymour’s chin. Even more bruises on the neck today. Clumsy, my ass.
“Whoever is giving you these is clearly an amateur.”
Seymour looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Do you like pain Seymour? I am a Doctor you know. It’s best to be with someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Orin’s hand was moving down to Seymour’s throat. His grip tightened slightly. Not enough to hurt, just a promise.
“I didn’t think you were that kind of Doctor.” Seymour commented in a quiet voice.
A grin.
“What kind of Doctor would you like me to be?”
Seymour shivered and grabbed Orin’s wrist with both hands, pulling him away.
Orin let him.
“Am I wrong? Was there another reason you invited me down here?”
Seymour stilled, Orin could have sworn he was eyeing the axe.
“N-no. You were right.”
Orin pressed forward, inviting himself into Seymour’s space. A hand at either side of his head, closing him in.
“Would you like me to kiss you Seymour?”
The smaller man seemed to be working through some kind of moral crisis in his head, unable to overcome his anxieties. Orin decided to be a gentleman and help him along by shoving his knee beneath the man’s thighs.
Seymour squeaked and grabbed Orin’s shoulder to balance.
With a sharp jerk he nodded his head.
Orin could only keep up the pretence of a gentleman for so long. He moved forward quickly, capturing Seymour’s mouth with surgical focus.
He mentally listed what he would like first. The lips should take priority, the kid was much too pale, Orin decided they would look much better glossed pink and swollen. He added more force to the kiss and bit down on the bottom lip. Seymour cried out and Orin moved back a fraction just to see his response. His lips were now blood red, puckered in confusion.
“W-why’d you stop?”
Orin smiled, moving a hand to the back of the smaller man’s neck.
“Needy are we?”
Seymour turned his head away in a pout. Orin wondered how much of a temper the kid had under all those layers. He always seemed so reserved. Orin was certain he could get the kid to break.
But not tonight. Right now he was too focused on all the exposed terrain available to him. He lowered his mouth to Seymour’s collarbone and began the task of replacing all his hickeys. He bit and sucked at the bruises, replacing them with his own bite marks.
Annoyed at the fabric in his way, Orin quickly ripped the cheap shirt off the smaller man, biting a now unprotected nipple and gripping Seymour tighter. Seymour was clearly trying to stay silent but he began to whimper as Orin sucked on his chest. His hands grasped Orin’s hair, begging him for something unintelligible. The Doctor ignored him and moved his own hands to Seymour’s waist, forcing him to keep still as he continued his methodical work of marking the man as his own.
After a particularly hard bite coupled with the slow movement of the older man’s tongue, Seymour was arching off the wall, gasping Orin’s name.
“Orin, p-please… Could we…? Ah!”
Orin stopped for a moment his eyes still focused on Seymour’s heaving chest.
“Did you say something?”
Seymour swallowed heavily, pushing his glasses back up.
“T-the bed. We should move to the bed.”
Orin hoisted his partner up easily, Seymour’s legs wrapping around him in panic.
“Alright then.”
The Doctor carried him to the bed and then dropped him unceremoniously on the covers. He unbuckled Seymour’s belt and began to pull off his own jacket and shirt.
“Those are coming off.” He grunted, a statement not a question.
Seymour nodded quickly, his already messy hair falling over his eye line. Once the smaller man was in nothing but underwear Orin pressed down again.
“Any other requests kid?” He huffed in the brunette’s ear.
Seymour whispered something under his breath and looked down. Orin rolled his eyes and pulled Seymour’s thighs further apart.
“You’re going to need to speak up Seymour.”
The small man blushed again, his face completely pink now.
“Y-your mouth, please. D-down there.”
Orin laughed, looking at Seymour’s obviously tented briefs.
“You want me to blow you but you can’t even say the word dick?”
Seymour crossed his arms, clearly nervous.
“Well if you don’t want to maybe I should ask someone else.”
Orin’s grin fell quickly, he barely restrained his rage as he snatched Seymour’s wrists and pinned them over his head, bruising the skin.
“We’re teasing now are we? Think it’s fun to tease huh?”
Seymour shook his head fearfully but Orin could see the way his pupils dilated, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.
Orin could feel his own heart rate increasing, finding it hard to catch his breath.
With one hand he ripped off Seymour’s underwear and grasped the man’s cock.
“Really? Would you stop just tearing off all my stu- Oh!” Seymour cried out as Orin twisted his hand.
The Doctor shifted down and examined the member. It wasn’t as long as Orin’s and the older man tried not to preen at that. Lean and almost pink, bobbing upwards, he figured he could get down to the base if he tried. Orin didn’t actually do this very often but he’d be damned if he let Seymour know that.
Seymour opened his mouth to question what he was doing down there so Orin decided to cut him off with a long lick up to the tip.
The small man whimpered quietly, his hands digging into the sheets.
“You’re not very loud are you?” Orin queried.
Seymour was shaking too hard to respond.
“We’ll fix that.”
Without another word he took Seymour into his mouth and began to suck. Seymour cried out in desperation, moving his hips up in response. Orin pushed him back down and held him in place as he worked. He kept his tongue flat, pressing against Seymour’s cock with purposeful strokes. As he grew accustomed to the appendage he began to move his head up and down, working his way down to the base.
Orin felt his own member growing painfully stiff, surprisingly pleased with the weight in his mouth. He pulled off for a moment to gauge how Seymour was responding and grinned as he saw his distress.
“P-please, please, keep going, please… I need...Sir please!”
“...Since you asked so nicely.”
Orin returned to the task, setting a gruelling pace. He could feel his thoughts blurring as he blocked off his airways, taking Seymour as deep as he could. Orin groaned around Seymour’s member, the asphyxiation bringing him close to the edge. Seymour’s hands dug into the Doctor’s hair again, pulling tightly as his head lolled back.
“I t-think I’m going to..! Oh, Orin!”
The man pulled away quickly, ignoring Seymour’s pleas of despair.
The smaller man’s glasses were completely crooked now, a glazed look over his eyes as he tried to sit up to see Orin hastily pulling out a packet of lube from his back pocket.
“What are you…? Why do you have-”
“Just shut up will you.” Orin grunted, his voice a wreck, broken and husky
Seymour did what he was told and tried to get his breathing in check.
“Spread your legs.” Orin demanded and Seymour obeyed willingly.
An index finger pressed into Seymour and the brunette tried not to let his nerves over take him.
Orin was feverish as he worked Seymour open, desperate to lubricate him as quickly as possible. He managed to push in a second finger and Seymour gaped, his eyes clenching shut.
Falling out of rhythm, Orin crooked his index and Seymour moaned louder than he had the whole night. He had his arms around Orin’s back and couldn’t stop his nails from digging in, drawing blood.
“Fuck, fuck, alright Seymour I’m just going to do it. That’s alright isn’t it Seymour? You can handle it can’t you? You’re such a good boy, you’ll take me won’t you?”
Seymour nodded deliriously, only focused on making Orin touch that place in him again.
“G-good boy, I can be a good boy f-for you.”
Orin moved quickly, desperately, unzipping his pants and tugging his boxers down. He didn’t even have the patience to push his pants off his waist before he shoved himself into Seymour.
The smaller man howled in pain, clearly not ready to take the Doctor, yet too far gone to stop him.
Orin swore at the sensation, the feeling of being buried inside of Seymour and hearing his screams was unimaginable.
He picked up his pace and thrust over and over into the tight heat, the tip of his cock brushing up against the bundle of nerves he discovered earlier.
Orin arms were at either side of Seymour, taking his weight as he pressed deeper and deeper inside the smaller man. He was so much warmer and tighter then Orin thought he’d be, the sight of his open, gasping mouth and marred skin feeding Orin’s ego completely.
“That’s right, I knew you could take me, such a good boy.” He murmured, keeping his unrelenting pace.
Seymour was leaving scratch marks over the Doctor’s muscled chest, he could barely speak as the long, forceful drag of Orin’s dick stretched him wider than he ever thought he could stretch.
Orin wasn’t thinking straight anymore, his voice slurred, all he could comprehend was the writhing tension of Seymour around his cock, the metallic, copper taste of his blood-stained lips and the weak constraint of Seymour’s limbs wrapping around him, just trying to hold on.
Out of instinct he reached out, wrapping a large hand around Seymour’s fragile neck, squeezing tightly. He expected the smaller man to fight him but he was completely compliant, allowing Orin to do as he wished. He still shivered madly, the sensation as Orin moved inside of him was incredible, and tears welled but he didn’t try to move away. Orin tried to tell himself that if Seymour was fighting him he’d stop, but he didn’t know if that was the truth. He couldn’t stop now.
He could do anything he wanted to Seymour. Anything at all, and the man would let him. His eyes roamed over the thin man, blue bruises marking his pale skin. He could barely make out the original wounds, just Orin’s marks. Only Orin. The Doctor didn’t know where this surge of possessiveness came from but he felt his hips begin to stutter. Abandoning the steady pace he began to move in with short, uncoordinated thrusts.
Like an afterthought, he lifted his hand off of Seymour’s neck and the small man gasped in oxygen, relieved. Orin’s fingermarks were clearly imprinted on Seymour’s throat and the older man grinned.
Orin wrapped his hands around Seymour’s twitching member and tugged, forcing the younger man to cum. He opened his mouth as if to scream but no sound came out, his voice weak from being choked. Orin buried himself deep inside of Seymour, a squelching, wet sound as he moved against the flesh.
“D-doctor please.” Seymour begged, barely a whisper.
Orin bit down hard on Seymour’s shoulder and felt his orgasm hit him. He pushed Seymour’s legs up to his chest and came as forcefully as he could, filling Seymour up with his cum.
The small man whined at the over-stimulation but Orin ignored him. He tried to tell himself that hearing Seymour address him as ‘Doctor’ wasn’t what put him over the edge but he didn’t know how much more denial he could allow himself tonight.
He pulled out, Seymour hitching his breath as Orin’s seed leaked out of him, and collapsed next to the small man.
With a grunt, he wrapped one arm around him, clearly intending to just leave the mess and fall asleep.
“Y-you’re staying the night?” Seymour asked, his face pressed against Orin’s chest.
“You kicking me out kid?” He huffed against the pillow.
Seymour blushed, Orin was surprised he could even get pinker.
“No, I’m just… This is good.”
Orin rolled his eyes in condescension, but pulled Seymour closer.