Work Text:
#
It really shouldn't have come off as a surprise that Doc would get involved in some sort of skirmish with the biggest mer the Agency's managed to capture in all their years of "research".
He was posited as one of the head vets over the main facility after all.
With how much the captive mers got either injured by their own making in trying to escape, or injured via the numerous experiments or near torturous punishments dished out to them, it was bound to happen.
Despite it all, Doc still found it in himself to be stunned when he was pulled twenty feet underwater, steadily encroaching the bottom of the tank.
Watching the stern lights above fade the further he sank, his brain automatically went over what went wrong, because of course it did.
As of now, there were three mers held captive in their central research base: Deimos, Sanford, and Hank.
It took roughly a month for Doc to find out their names, either by direct conversation or deciphering recorded conversations of them when they used to be housed together in one tank.
Most of the other scientists would call them by the last few digits of their tag number or some other nickname. And typically, Doc does as well, except for when he's alone with said mers.
Deimos was the one Doc had to tend to most often, the poor mer basically becoming the Agency's unofficial lab rat.
Anything the Agency was curious about or was missing data on from previous experimentations, would be tested on him.
Reaching around 10 feet in length, Deimos used to be above average in muscle mass for mers subcategorized as spiny dog fish. But after a few months of captivity (and medical experiments aplenty), he's scaled down lean, always having some sort of brace or bandages or line of stitches on him.
Sanford was a bit more fortunate, in that he was deemed Hank's backup.
He was kept moderately healthy, save for the several times he hurt himself trying to crash into the thick tank walls or launched himself out the top to try and get to Deimos. As a sand tiger shark variant topping 12 feet, he was definitely bulked out in muscle both before and after capture, despite receiving less nutritional intake as he would've in the wild.
From what Doc could gather, he could safely conclude him and Deimos were mates, which was a funny surprise honestly.
Aside from the fact that Doc himself was as straight as a circle, mers were increasingly difficult to get a hold of in this day and age.
They were hunted down to near oblivion, and female mers were now far more safely secured in their communities due to their dwindling numbers.
So what were the chances?
Regardless, despite Sanford being in decent physical wellbeing, Doc could tell he was in frequent emotional and mental turmoil, which would obviously have some effect on his health as well.
Being confined in a small tank as opposed to free, roaming waters did no favors to any mer--but the look on his face whenever Doc rolled Deimos by to tend to his wounds.. it'd do nothing but intensify his fire to free the captive mers no matter what.
And Hank.
A 14 foot long great white shark variant with remarkable abilities in Shadow Magic, currently dragging Doc's sorry ass deeper and plastering him against solid glass in what was likely vindicated rage.
...Yeah, Doc was pretty sure his only real mistake here was getting a little too close to the edge when trying to drop in some medicine infused meat.
Still didn't stop his brain filtering through every interaction he's had with Hank, until it finally found something he could use.
While Hank definitely is a hard shell to crack when it came to gaining his trust, Doc did see him massage the flesh around the spikes protruding out his right arm a few times before, red and corrupted from magic use overtime, and at this point... he very may as well test his theory out now for kicks.
Straining out a hand, Doc managed to grab Hank's right shoulder, firmly digging his fingers into the tough muscle there in circular motion.
It was a bit hard to really see anything, considering all the flurries of bubbles and water filling up his goggles (not to mention, Hank was sorta grabbing him in a chokehold here).
But he could see enough to note Hank's furious face shift into that of confusion, before going back to fury as he thrashed out and let Doc go.
He was shot with a heavy duty tranquilizer, the scrambling and panicking scientists outside finally doing something and reaching the top of the open tank, and Doc made a somewhat apologetic gesture as he finally faded into murky black, just barely catching on to Hank's growl before that too disappeared.
#
"The fuck happened to you?"
Doc was proud to say that Deimos had gotten used to his presence enough by now to openly chitchat with him. Not that he'd ever actually say that to anyone at the facility of course, but still.
"I could ask you the same question."
Then again, the mer may also just be speaking to him out of necessity, considering he was now almost constantly kept away from Sanford's tank due to how hard it was to separate them last time.
When Deimos wasn't on the operating table, he was confined to his isolation tank, and none of the other scientists ever truly indulged in his talk (and more often than not, they threatened to cut off his tongue), so here they were. Tittering on and off the edge of sanity.
"Yeah well. What else is new." Deimos looked down on his bandaged up torso in bloody lackluster, unnervingly used to the sight. "But your purple neck? That's definitely new."
Doc unconsciously rubbed it, almost feeling Hank's elongated claws surround it again. He coughed,
"Just tell me where it hurts most. We're running low on painkillers you know."
"And whose fault is that?" Deimos slung an arm over the pathetically tight tank, spilling water onto the eternally wet floor.
"You probably won't even need to bother with those soon enough. I've gotten opened up and sewn shut more times than I can count. Eventually it won't hurt anymore right?"
Doc knew he was only half kidding, but his mind was still preoccupied. He managed to fill the syringe and flicked the needle in a mutter,
"The goal is to avoid that."
Deimos grimaced as Doc approached him with the syringe, tail swishing and bumping against the closure.
"How's..?"
"He's fine." Doc answered, administering the shot, then filling up another on second thought. The Agency's been really putting him through it with how many dissections they've been trying to squeeze in lately.
"Come on Doc, don't bullshit me."
"I keep telling you, Sanford hasn't been experimented on yet. And ideally, we never will have to. It'll only ever come to that if Hank..." Doc shrugged.
"Point is, Hank is extremely coveted for his magical properties and rapid regeneration. The Agency isn't as reckless with him as they are with you." Kinda.
"Reassuring." Deimos laughed, relieved that Doc put away the syringe. "But, it'd still be nice to see for myself."
Doc sighed, briefly taking off his goggles to rub his eyes. The last time he was able to sneak Deimos into Sanford's tank for an unscheduled reunion was closer to the beginning of their captivity. They were nearly caught by one of the engineers, and he hadn't considered it since.
But... lord knows they were beyond restless. Every time Sanford spotted Doc in the room, his tail wouldn't stop flicking till everyone left and he could interrogate Doc on Deimos' status. It could be for the better..
"..Soon."
Deimos slumped over in a grumble, feeling the shot's effects. "Whatever the fuck that means."
"Soon."
#
Soon, would arrive faster than expected when they almost lost Deimos to excessive blood loss and dehydration (Doc nearly lost his voice screaming at the idiot who left Deimos out to bleed beside his tank), and suffice to say, Sanford didn't bode the sight of panicked staff dragging Deimos into the clinic well.
Like, at all.
The engineers were still sealing up the tank's cracks.
Sanford needed only to give Doc a single hell of a glare to make him give in, and after Deimos recovered enough, he snuck him into Sanford's tank under the cover of night and sparse weekend staff.
Doc let himself watch the two mers try to contain their voices as they swam circles around each other--Sanford lovingly settling Deimos to rest in his arms as he looked him over--before deciding to leave.
He guarded the hall for a minute, before deeming it safe enough to go visit Hank's tank.
There was no real answer he could give as to why, nor what he expected; he just did.
Just stood before the intimidating body, sculpted with daunting power and--somehow--simultaneous grace.
Doc would be remiss to deny that Hank looked magnificent, weakening experiments be damned.
Expectedly, Hank was awake, suspiciously eyeing him over. Any injuries Doc may have sustained in their last genuine encounter was healed up by now, but the large mer still stared at his neck, as if there were something there Doc couldn't see.
Doc still kept at trying to communicate with Hank after the incident, but after receiving no results yet again, he took a break from it for a couple days.
Stuck to simply healing Hank whenever he was left out the water to dry and crack in coercing him to explain his magical abilities, to logging statistical information and feeding Hank despite everyone trying to dissuade him otherwise, and now to this.
Just being there.
Hank was understandably a little puzzled, but not enough to care, and so he ignored the doctor sitting on the floor against his tank.
Doc stayed, working through his tablet until half an hour or so had passed, and he wordlessly up and left to return Deimos to his chamber.
It took a bit of effort to convince Sanford to let Deimos go, but ultimately, it all went surprisingly smoothly.
As long as Doc hacked into the security cameras to record an inconspicuous loop (and sent out much of the employees on a sponsored trip to the club), he could let Sanford and Deimos meet each other up to twice a week, which was more than enough for them.
Despite the same procedures and torture methods resuming, both Sanford and Deimos had brightened up considerably since the weekly schedule was instated.
And after Doc managed to display the actual security feed into his tablet to show to Hank, even their standstill began to stutter.
Hank still remained extremely reserved around any human period, but he also didn't outright shun Doc's presence anymore now that he could keep an eye on how Deimos and Sanford were doing through his tablet. He even started responding to Doc's inquiries on his health with a direct nod or shake of his read, or (far more rarely) a word.
It was only by the tenth something visit that Hank finally initiated conversation, and it came in the form of a laugh.
Doc looked closer at the security feed, and felt his gut sink and rise at the same time in something akin to a ridiculous implosion.
#
"Are you kidding me."
Doc hurriedly set the tablet face down, but couldn't wave away his blush as quickly.
Hank guffawed once, bearing his razor teeth as he.. wait, was he laughing at Doc now??
"Caught them before." Hank rolled his eyes--Doc didn't know if he picked that up from other scientists or not--and began swimming idly about in what little space he had.
Doc shook his head, reluctantly picking the tablet back up. Hank rose a brow, and Doc caught it,
"What."
Hank smirked bemusedly; in a sort of way that irked Doc, oddly enough.
Needlessly defensive, "I always keep an eye on the cameras."
"Hm." Hank blew a bubble. "Sure. But mostly on Sanford and Deimos' room."
Doc felt his head heat up both at the fact that holy shit, this is the most they've ever spoken at a time, a breakthrough, AND at the fact that the first time they actually converse like this had to be instigated by Sanford and Deimos fucking, the fools.
"Shut up."
Eloquent 2bdamned, great response to the first time you ever actually get Hank to engage with you in a non-violent way, and you tell him to shut up.
Doc internally groaned to himself, but relaxed a bit upon Hank's chuckles.
Notably, Hank didn't go away, and continued to watch Doc (and by extension, Sanford and Deimos) from behind him and the glass pane.
Doc pointedly kept his gaze toward the cameras in the hall outside Sanford's room, but eventually the sounds of Sanford's clicks and groans (along with Deimos' less than subtle trills and moans) proved harder and harder to ignore.
But nothing intrusively shot up and down his veins, until he heard a rumble that definitely didn't come from the tablet; rather sourced from right behind him.
Gripping the tablet at how taken aback he was from the sudden onslaught of feeling from that noise alone (with much of it instantly going straight to one specific part of his body), Doc stiffly stood up and left the room, knowing with absolute certainty that Hank had a shit-eating grin the whole way out.
Of course, he didn't dare interrupt Sanford and Deimos till he knew they were done.
Which... took a long, long while.
God damn those mers.
#
In spite of the embarrassing nature of their first "breakthrough" (and Hank's apparent nature to be a teasing dick), Doc was rather pleased to now find himself on better speaking terms with Hank. It sped up his timeline in getting the mers to cooperate better and helping them escape.
However, a new announcement from none other than the Auditor himself, had him tugging his hair to tears at how much it pushed the timeline to become all the shorter anyhow.
They found a way to extract Hank's magic.
Not all of it, and it wasn't as potent to be sure.
But according to what demonstrative videos had been released thus far, the Auditor had jumped the gun and already injected himself with the extracted serum--granting him minimal regenerative abilities from minor wounds, and the power to wield some sort of small shadowy fire that didn't burn the hand that held it.
Doc's only seen Hank use his underwater fire once, and the dark plasma was able to evaporate whoever the fuck was near enough to get in contact with it, before their scientists were able to find a way to suppress the magic with medicine.
He couldn't let the research progress to the point where the Auditor would attain that.
He also couldn't really TELL anybody all of this--not even his own rebel higher ups, in fear of bugged communications--so he made do with spilling it to Hank one evening.
Hank didn't reply as much as Doc may have expected, but it helped anyhow to have someone witness him throw his papers in distaste as he went over them, frazzled and put out.
And by the next time he was able to be with Hank one-on-one, Hank silently hovered around the top of his tank until Doc went up to meet him there, and thus continued their conversations in the newly established location.
Close enough to touch or maul. And Doc was all the more glad for it.
#
As of late, Doc wasn't able to bring Deimos over to Sanford as much thanks to the increase in staff (and funding for security) ever since the Auditor's injection, but he still could hang around Hank's tank at night. Least for that, he could claim he was logging missed data or just plain researching.
Sure, the two mers complained like all heck for it, but it's not like Doc was particularly devastated.
They were able to gain back some sanity from their several weeks of interaction (and uh, other forms of close interaction), and it should sustain them for a few more.
Rather, Doc's focus naturally gravitated toward the gigantic merman chilling just a few feet away from him.
Hank had warmed up to the doctor a fair ways, openly staring at Doc as he typed on his tablet.
His spontaneous questions no longer shocked Doc when asked, and every now and then Doc would put away his work to better indulge in them.
"What's with the white in your hair old man."
Of course, Hank remained the snarky shit he was so inclined to be, but Doc funnily found himself to prefer it that way.
"I'm stressed."
"Sorry, I don't see you getting electrocuted or suffocated every other day."
Doc scooched closer, impulsively snapping up his goggles to give a better deadpan stare in good humor.
"All our lives are on the line if I don't get your ass out of here soon. If you've got any ideas to speed up the process, I'm well open to them."
Hank didn't answer, opting to gaze at Doc. Then he squinted,
"The hell you got bandages for?" Hank angled a long claw at Doc's wrapped mouth, only slightly more revealed, gaining no flinches.
"..." Doc seemed to contemplate something, before shrugging with a tsk. To Hank's surprise, he removed his black mask and began unwrapping the bandages underneath.
"What. You don't-"
"You lot had quite a fair amount of scarring before being captured." Doc unraveled it completely, stretching his mouth slightly.
"You've gained much more since then, but the old stays nonetheless." He pointed toward the jagged scar tissue streaked from the corners of his lips to his jaw. "This is one of them."
Yet again, Doc startled at Hank's laugh, then even more so when Hank too began unmasking his face, allowing Doc to take a closer look at his mouth for the first time.
"You've..?"
Doc joined in the madness; he had the exact same sort of tear running along his cheeks.
He couldn't help it, laughing till he fell on his back, mostly because Hank didn't stop laughing even as he went underwater for a quick dip, sounding hysterically distorted for a second--and that was the first good laugh they've both ever had in a long time.
Neither of them asked the other how it came to be.
"Figures we'd both be ugly in the same places." Doc huffed, reeling himself in as he sat back up.
"Speak for yourself. Mers love battle scars." Hank flicked some water at Doc's face.
"Mers, or just you?"
Hank blinked at that, humming as he roved his redder-than-ever eyes through Doc's.. everything.
"..That one is mine."
"Pardon?"
He traced a light scar lined beneath Doc's jaw, from when he tried to strangle him. A mere nick of a claw.
"Hrm. So it is."
Unapologetic as always, "Why do you keep trying to help us."
Doc cocked his head, "Would you prefer that I don't?"
Hank scoffed, splashing even more water on Doc. Doc squeezed a bit of his half drenched shirt, amending,
"It's the right thing to do." He then stood up, shaking off what water he could from his hair.
"...Plus, the Agency are assholes."
Hank agreeably nodded as he clocked in Doc's form yet again, unsure of why. Not quite lanky compared to most of his human peers, but certainly for a mer.
"What now?"
Hank hadn't realized he rose out of the water, hands gripping on the slippery floor's edge.
"Come closer."
Doc quirked a brow, but did it without hesitation.
"I trust you won't take me for another trip inside your tank?"
"No promises."
And so Hank shoved Doc into the waters with his tail, snickering as Doc splashed and sputtered up for air.
"You little-"
"Nothing about me is that, Doc." Hank floated on his backside, urging Doc to hang over his belly.
"What is wrong with you." Doc struggled, but eventually managed to straddle Hank to keep from swimming. He could've just as easily returned to the edge, but he won't be dishonest and say he's never been curious as to what it's like to ride a mer.
"You're the vet, you should know." Leaning in, Hank curiously licked the rough scars on Doc's face, making him jump.
"Wh... is this some strange show of thanks mers do for each other?" Not that Doc was complaining, the long tongue feeling a lot warmer and slimier than he'd ever expect.
"Nope." Hank grinned. "I'm just hungry."
#
Doc gave him the sternest look he'd ever mustered up before, and Hank had to chuckle at it.
"Not like that."
Rather, Hank razed a claw down Doc's torso, threatening to rip the soaked fabric that left nothing to the appreciative imagination.
Doc's eyes grew near comical,
"That's. Not a very funny joke Hank."
"I don't kid." Both his hands were more than enough to fully wrap around Doc's waist, with plenty leftover,
"You said you wanted to help me, right?"
"I-"
"Then help. I've got lots of ailments."
At the last word, Hank undulated a wave through his body, rocking upward to Doc's crotch.
"Huh--?" Doc grunted, incredulous, "Where.. is this coming from?"
You're easy on the eyes for a human, "You think Sanford and Deimos are the only mers with a sex drive here?"
"I'm not a mer, if you haven't noticed."
You've taken care of me more than any mer has.
Hank shook his head, "If you want to get off, you can."
Doc's brow twitched, looking down at his seat.
"..It's-" He cleared his throat, "It's. Not that I'm not willing to."
"Oh?"
"Quiet you. I'm just..." He was just fairly sure this was a terrible idea, despite his own stupid dick telling him otherwise.
...But then again, when has he ever been privy to good ideas? Lord knows trying to emancipate a bunch of powerful mers from the Agency's hands was never in any way a good idea.
"..."
Doc sighed, then surged forward to finally startle Hank for a change, firmly testing his lips against the mer's.
Fuck it, he deserves this.
Hank recovered quickly, partially submerging Doc momentarily as he stripped him of his work clothes. They were carelessly thrown to the floor, and becoming the guinea pig for once, Doc could practically feel the heavy gaze analyzing his body.
He shivered, not bothering to chalk it up to the cool waters.
"..It's already out?" Hank nodded toward Doc's rising dick, eliciting chuckles.
"It always is, even while dormant. Although, right now it.. isn't that."
Intrigued, Hank rubbed the flat of his thumb against the shaft, and in a shaky breath Doc returned the effort.
"Nm..!" Hank's swishing tail nudged him to lean against the edge of the tank, fascinated at the way Doc's fingers easily slipped into his slit. "How do you.."
"I study marine life. But, aside from anatomy, I've no real clue what I'm doing here."
"You're... doing good." Hank grumbled, already feeling his member getting coaxed out. Or maybe he was just super horny.
Either way; not wanting to be outdone, he shoved Doc to sit higher up his torso, slithering a tongue out to meet salt.
Gasping, Doc lost his balance at the abrupt (and rather rude) adjustment and fell, his back sliding against the smooth underside as Hank tasted him.
Out of commentary, Hank twirled his--frankly--stupid long tongue up and around the now fully stiff cock, only stopping once Doc began to tremble (and when he realized it wasn't going to grow any more).
"S.. shit, Hank th--mn!" The soaked tip trailed further down to encircle Doc's rim, already probing him shallowly. Growing more and more hot, Doc let his arms fall into the rippling waters, icily refreshing compared to his head.
"Agh!" As the tongue ventured deeper into him, Doc could start to feel the stretch already, squirming at the wriggling thing inside.
When said tongue then pushed against a very happy spot, Doc couldn't help but clench around it,
"Hah-! Fuck, fuck do that again."
Hank withdrew, and Doc blew a breath.
"What did I just say."
"I'll do you one better." Lifting Doc as if he were a toy, Hank repositioned the vet so that he faced him, abs pressed against his.
Hank's ears twitched at Doc's whine as he spread his legs apart to wrap around either side of his torso, tempted to turn him back again just to see the view.
But, Hank was well known to be an impatient mer, so he promptly let Doc go, having the man slip down just enough to nestle Hank's now unsheathed cock against his hole.
Hank cut off whatever protest he knew was going to come out of Doc's mouth (probably something typical like "it's too big", "impossible", yada yada), by leaning in to offer his tongue.
And why would Doc ever refuse?
The two kissed again, albeit far more messily and carnally as Hank's dick slowly rubbed against Doc's ass, the incredibly endowed limb seemingly having a mind of its own.
Doc moaned into Hank's mouth upon feeling the tentacle-like dick begin to squeeze its way in, continually circling around to stretch the rim as it inched within.
Likewise, Hank groaned whilst gripping Doc's entire body tightly to his own, mindful to not dismember him with his claws.
"Tiny.."
Doc couldn't respond, too focused on how bizarre (and amazing) the endlessly lubricated cock felt in him, exploring all of his inners thoroughly. His mouth fell agape when his prostate got nudged again, and Hank began to take the hint.
And oh, did he take it.
Almost mischievously, Hank slipped his tongue back into Doc's throat, right as he repeatedly thrust the tip of his cock into the same spot, smiling when Doc gagged over his moans.
"Hnn-AH! What th--ffuck, fuck keep going, ugn!!" Doc's back arched, allowing him a few profanities before Hank took over his tongue again.
"Nmmg-!" Course, that didn't stop Doc from groaning when Hank stuffed his cock in even deeper, almost closing in on the base. Doc's legs spasmed, his hands doing their damndest not to scratch Hank up anywhere.
Soon enough though, Hank slowed down in order to move Doc about again--this time, spinning him around to give him a well admired view of his ass, the puckered rim coaxing his cock back in.
"It'll go in deeper this way."
"Is that.. really necessary?" Doc panted, figuring the first eight inches or so were enough.
"Yes." And back in he went, filling Doc and waiting until he heard any sort of wince of pain to slow it.
But he didn't, gaining nothing but wanton moans and choked off grunts, and he sought to create more of them.
"Hgk..! God, I can feel-" He felt out his gut, unnervingly turned on by the bulge of Hank's member, swirling inside him.
Hank carefully felt out Doc's ass and legs, curious as to why they appeared so nice (and devourable) to him.
Regardless of the reason, Hank figured so long as it turned him on, who was he to complain?
Deciding that Doc was decently stretched now, he began a steady rhythm of hits, smoothing lunging in.
For better leverage in some of the thrusts, Hank's tail would angle downward, giving Doc a spectacular view of the depths, and while the man knew this wasn't the ocean.. it wasn't hard to imagine so.
His body flailing just above an infinite deep sea, full of crushing waters and unknowable creatures to kill him... it'd never fail to shoot a burst of adrenaline through his veins.
"Ngh-!" Hank huffed, driving ever harder into Doc's fairly abused hole, ramming to fuck all as he got close.
The thick of Hank's base slapped into Doc soundly, with some ridges on the lower cock making its way in to harshly jab into his prostate as much as it rolled over it.
Doc would've begun jerking himself off right then, soon as he began to see hints of darkening sparks in his vision, but as it so turns out, he didn't really need it.
"Shhit shit sh--AAAHG!!" Doc could feel himself drool as he let all his inhibitions go, head thrown back wildly as he felt himself get filled. Copious amounts of thick white would mix in with the waters, along with the ropes of cum Doc released, straining as he bore through the climax.
He couldn't stop himself from clenching around the cock again and again, and once Hank was utterly milked, he withdrew.
The ensuing groans as Doc trembled from the waterfall of cum gushing out of him, played as music to Hank's ears.
Catching his breath (and collecting his scattered about senses), Doc slowly recovered, struggling to sit back upright.
Hank aided him to rotate and face him again, sinking into the waters just up till Doc's chest.
Effectively rinsing him clean, Doc allowed himself to relax, oddly enjoying the mer cuddle.
"...Something, tells me I won't be logging this to your data."
"You should. I can try and unsheath it again so you can measure it-"
"Shut up."
And maybe they shared a kiss or two again.
Either way, tentatively and for now:
Fin.