Chapter Text
“Stanley.”
The voice seeped into him, going down tantalizingly smooth. It was unfamiliar, surreal, the sound of two predatory eyes leering from the darkness.
“Stanley, are you there? Can you hear me? Come to me.”
It was stirring, so warm, so burning hot. Stanley couldn’t see, couldn’t feel his body, couldn’t do anything – except listen.
And that silver-tongued voice swallowed him whole.
“Come to me, Stanley.”
There was a stern purr under the intonation of his name, and help him, Stanley wanted to fuck that voice.
“Yes, he’s breathing, just unconscious.”
Who?
Stanley surfaced as the blare of approaching ambulance sirens crashed into his head. Colors swam before his eyes, materializing into the shape of a man kneeling next to him against the backdrop of an overcast, glowing sky. The man’s graying dark hair was coiffed in a picture of professionalism, rogue strands curling over his forehead and a couple loose at the sides, betraying recent haste and exertion. Lines indicating a comfortable, older age framed his handsome mouth and underlined dark, pacifying eyes that looked off somewhere Stanley couldn’t see.
Those eyes slid to behold him, and the grin that spread across the man’s face fucked Stanley up so thoroughly it was unreal. He heard himself gasp with a strangled moan as an overwhelming sensation swelled from his chest to down between his legs.
“Ah, good, you’ve joined us in the waking world,” the man said. “Now don’t be too alarmed. Everything will be alright, Stanley. I’ve got you.”
Stanley was so turned on he couldn't think straight. Was this a sex dream?
Intense pain slammed into him with the force of a truck. Stanley flinched, hissing through his teeth as he tried to curl up, but the man pressed him down with a large hand on his chest. Stanley’s eyes rolled back into his lolling head as that excitement from before spiked amidst the stinging. He managed to grab the sleeve of the man’s suit, gasping and grimacing.
Stanley began to remember what he had been doing before that voice took over his world. He had been driving through an intersection.
“Oh god – What happened? Did I crash?” Stanley winced, trying to sit up to look at himself, to understand where the pain was coming from.
“Another car hit you,” the man said, his unfairly sexy voice excruciatingly calm. “You’ll want to stay down. It’s best if you stay still until the emergency responders get a look at you.”
All he could remember was driving, and the next second it was darkness. He hadn’t even seen the other car. Why the hell was he in so much pain? Was he going to die?
“You’ve got quite the injury here,” the man said, as if reading his mind. The hand he had on Stanley’s chest was so heavy, so warm. Stanley wished it would go a little lower. “The car collided with the side of yours, and, from the looks of it, the airbag deployment may have broken your arm. Do you not drive with your hands on the 8 and 3 o’clock positions? Oh, Stanley, did you think you were above standard driving safety? Tut tut.”
Oh shit more of that chiding please–
Stanley’s face burned. What the fuck? Was this man really admonishing him after he was hit by a car? And why did he like it?
“How do you know anything about me? How do you know my name? Who are you?” The questions barreled out of him.
For a moment, the man seemed to get distracted by something, his eyebrows raising before he took off his coat and laid it on top of Stanley. Stanley’s stomach flipped and left him stunned.
“Um, well, I’m just a man who pulled over after I saw what happened. I went to your car, I found you unresponsive, and then I noticed there was smoke coming from under the hood. Seeing as it would be a shame if we were to be engulfed in fire, I carried you over here, oh and your wallet tumbled from your pocket – You really shouldn’t keep it in such a shallow pocket, for many reasons, but that’s neither here nor there. After I checked if you were breathing – and indeed you were – I thought calling you by your name might be more effective in getting you to respond. I simply looked at your driver’s license, that’s all. It’s really nothing to get so worked up about.”
Stanley had stars in his eyes. This man, narrating events in this sensual, enveloping voice that was gently and scathingly fucking him with every word, had come to his rescue. He was so eloquent that he really could have been a narrator or commentator for all Stanley knew. Probably was. Yes, a narrator for erotic audiobooks would be perfect.
Wait, wasn't he in pain? It was getting fuzzy.
“Hmm… I need to tell you something that you may not want to hear,” the Narrator said, his voice curling into a contemplative purr. Stanley had to work to focus on the actual concern in his tone. Was it worse than a broken arm? “You’ve clearly got quite the… erm, adrenaline rush, and – Now please don’t feel embarrassed, I doubt anyone noticed before I covered you up with my coat. The quandary I speak of is–”
At that moment, an EMT interrupted him with a bustle of gear, dropping to her knees on the other side of Stanley.
“What’s going on today?” She said, rolling gloves on and grabbing a blood pressure cuff.
It was a blur as he answered the EMT’s questions, a whirlwind of medical devices prodding at him. They took a look at his arm, and he finally got a good look at it as well. Impulsively, his uninjured arm struck out for the man with the narrator voice, grabbing his leg. Stanley felt a warm, rough palm readily cover his hand.
The sight of his messed-up arm made him queasy. A rush of fear and sick relief hit him; he had survived a car crash. The EMT explained that the adrenaline was numbing his pain. Maybe that and the Narrator's voice had something to do with it.
“Alright, we’ll get a stretcher over here and take you to the hospital,” the EMT said, then looked up at the Narrator. “Were you also in the vehicle?”
“No,” he answered. He was still holding Stanley’s hand.
The stretcher was brought over as the EMT helped Stanley to his feet. “Are you family?” she asked.
Once he was standing, the coat slid off of him, and Stanley noticed something about himself very quickly. He also noticed that the Narrator’s lips pursed, his eyebrows knitting in a pitying sort of way. Great. Just what Stanley needed: humiliation. Because out in broad daylight, thanks to his choice of sweatpants instead of jeans, was a very obvious boner.
That was what the Narrator had meant by ‘adrenaline rush.’
“Wow, haven’t seen that one before,” one of the EMTs joked, earning himself a spitting glare from his colleagues.
“How very sad for you,” interjected the Narrator, who was still holding Stanley’s hand. To hear his voice again was so jarring; Stanley frowned deeply as his dick throbbed. “Not everyone can possess such stamina and libido. When’s the last time you went for even a measly five hours? I’m sorry to speak on such an indecent topic, but you brought it up.”
As the EMTs snorted at their colleague’s expense, Stanley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Narrator picked up his coat and replaced it over him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this stranger coming to the defense of his penis, but he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cared to do something like this for him.
He looked at the Narrator out of the corner of his eye, who slyly met his gaze. The edge of the Narrator’s mouth quirked with the slightest hint of satisfaction.
It was unfair how down bad he was for this random stranger, who was only making it worse.
Stanley was lifted into the ambulance, and his grasp on the Narrator’s hand broke. Well, it was nice while it lasted.
“Sorry, I didn’t get an answer before. Are you family?” Stanley heard one of the kinder EMTs ask.
“Um,” the Narrator started, hesitating. Why was he hesitating? “Yes. Isn’t it obvious?”
Stanley could only stare at the ceiling of the ambulance in shock. Did he just hear that correctly?
“Oh, right,” she laughed nervously. “You must be his partner. You can either ride up front or meet us there,” the EMT answered as she closed the ambulance doors.
It became clear that Stanley did hear it correctly, once he was taken through the hospital through all the fuss of nurses and doctors and finally settled in his own room. There had been periods of waiting, during which the Narrator spoke to the staff about odd topics, all while staying at Stanley’s side. Stanley let his voice lull him, though he was a little annoyed that the Narrator was talking to everyone else except him – not that Stanley would have known what to say.
Admittedly, he was grateful the Narrator was there. His heart was still beating so fast, his mind replaying the moment he had realized he was in an accident over and over. It was nice to have someone. His closest friends were miles away after his office shut down and he had to transfer to a different state to keep his job.
It was after Stanley was wheeled back in from a CT scan and his arm put in an elevated splint that they were left alone – just the two of them.
“Well Stanley,” the Narrator said, wasting no time as he turned to him. “I’m sorry I’ve overstayed your company, carrying on this charade that I’m your partner, following you here. The reason I did so was – well I was concerned for you. But I’m sure you’ll want to call someone you actually know to be with you. Here, you can use my phone, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” The Narrator held out the phone to Stanley. Stanley stared at him.
“Who are you? You know my name – which I had no say in, by the way – the least you could do is tell me yours,” Stanley said; it was the one thing that surfaced out of all the questions he wanted to ask.
Stanley thought he saw the Narrator’s mouth curve in a smile then disappear, like he was trying to hide it.
“Like I said before; I’m just someone who saw the accident and stopped. I know how to respond to an emergency situation such as what you found yourself in, and so I responded.” A quizzical look pulled his features as he pocketed his phone and stepped closer to the bed, tapping on the cushioning with one finger. “You know, you are awfully agitated towards me, considering the things I’ve done for you. Carrying you to safety, making sure you were alive, salvaging your dignity in the face of a juvenile remark. Is something the matter, Stanley?”
Okay, now he was just teasing him. It got Stanley way too riled up in all the wrong ways. He knew his face was dark with a furious blush.
He almost didn’t say it, but he just could not help himself. “You get off on taunting people who were just in a near-death experience?” His own voice sounded alien to him, rasping in his throat with lust.
The Narrator laughed, a low, conniving sound. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing a line next to Stanley’s arm. “I’ll entertain a loaded question if you entertain mine. An answer for an answer, Stanley. Now, keep in mind you do have to tell me the truth. Is it a deal?”
Oh no. Was he going to ask what had given Stanley a boner? Was he going to ask if Stanley had been thinking about fucking him since the moment he heard his voice speak his name? Sure, Stanley was already planning on lying, but he had never been a very good liar.
“What, uh. What’s your question?”
“Oh no, Stanley, I’m not going to ask it until you agree. It may not be fair, but I’m afraid that is how this is going to go. You either agree, or you go forever without knowing if I’ve been… ‘getting off’ to taunting you.”
Sweat was condensing on his back; he was so, so hot. Stanley was loving every moment of this. How the hell did this guy make being annoying so sexy?
It was such a bad deal. For all Stanley knew, the Narrator was just going to ask him the most degrading question, and then tell Stanley that no, that’s silly you’d think I’m enjoying any of this. But there was something about the way he had said ‘ taunting you.’ Not just people, like Stanley had put it – the Narrator had specifically said you.
“Fine,” Stanley bit. He was hard as hell again, but now he had a heavy blanket laid across his lap to hide it.
The Narrator beamed. “Wonderful. My question for you is: Did my presence make this ordeal better for you? In other words; was it nice that I stayed, instead of leaving you on your own?”
Stanley blinked. He was getting whiplash. One moment, the Narrator was being almost menacing, and the next he was saying things like this, and in the most sincere voice.
Dazed, Stanley nodded.
The smile on the Narrator seemed just as genuine as the tone of his voice. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll even elaborate on what I said before for you; I seem to have grown a bit attached. Something about pulling someone out of a crushed car and having them hold onto your hand is a recipe for endearment. Purely platonic, of course. I wanted to make sure you were going to be alright, that a more grievous injury would not be found, and that you would not be bothered with any further disrespectful jokes.”
Stanley got stuck on ‘platonic.’ His heart sank.
“Now, as far as your question,” he continued; “I don’t see a direct answer being of much help to you. I’m not the kind of person to get sexual gratification from taunting strangers; that’s weird. What I think you’d much rather know is that I do find you attractive, and the more we talk, the more attracted I am.”
Stanley swallowed, trying to keep some semblance of a glare. “Well. Uh. Thanks.” He wondered if he could give the Narrator some of his own medicine. What if he just didn’t tell him the feeling was reciprocated? Just for a while. Let him feel embarrassed.
The Narrator chuckled, his fingers gliding to sit next to Stanley’s hips, where his gaze flitted as well. “Of course. And If you ever need assistance with an unexpected erection again, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Stanley’s eyes widened.
“In fact,” the Narrator said, “you seem to have another one now. Hmm, I wonder what the common denominator is with all these mysterious erections.”
Stanley tried to throw his hands over his crotch and in doing so moved his broken arm. He shouted out in pain, recoiling as he hissed through his teeth. The Narrator sighed, shaking his head.
“I don’t like seeing you hurt yourself like this, Stanley.” His voice dropped into a guileful, alluring purr. “If it’s bothering you that much, it really would be my pleasure to give you a hand.”
Stanley squirmed, panting through the pain. “What the fuck – Are you some kind of sex worker? Next you’re gonna tell me you seduce people for a living. Kinda shady you still haven't given me your name.”
“No,” the Narrator said, his voice rumbling with a chuckle. “No, I'm afraid I'm not in that line of work. I think you might just be easily seduced. I have no issue giving you my name, but I want you to really consider if you want it yet… or if you want to keep that part of this tryst going for a bit longer. If you give me a straight answer, I won’t leave the job unfinished. You only need tell me if you want this or not.”
“Yes,” Stanley blurted. No, he didn't mind knowing the man as just the Narrator, and it was even hotter that the man had no idea that that was what Stanley was calling him in his head. Fantasizing about him as some sexy, voice kink dominatrix. “Obviously. Yes.”
The Narrator gave him the most infuriating, salacious response. “That’s what I thought.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Stanley said with a grin, blushing.
“Mhm, once the doctor says you’re free to go. My place is not too far from here.”
No. No, they were going to be stuck in this place for who knows how long.
His boner was aching at this point, pain still throbbing in his arm despite the painkillers the nurse had given him.
“Just… What if you just touch me a little, huh?” Stanley murmured.
For once, the Narrator looked a little lost for words. “Oh. I may have underestimated just how needy you are,” he said, desire clear in his voice. He looked toward the door and positioned himself so that he was between it and Stanley, his back to the window. “I suppose I could do that much. I'm not trying to make you suffer, really I'm not.”
He drew his fingers across Stanley’s thigh, letting them graze the shape of his cock. Stanley bit his lip, sucking in a breath through his nose.
“Naughty,” the Narrator murmured, his fingers running up and down the shaft over the blanket, making Stanley shiver and twitch.
Stanley sucked in a breath through his teeth. “For a second I thought you were going to be nice. Haven’t teased me enough?”
“Tell me what you want, Stanley,” he said. Calm. Pure evil.
“Just, you know… give me a hand. Like you said.” He pulled the blanket aside, then went for the waistband of his sweatpants. To his surprise, the Narrator helped.
“Careful,” he chided, batting Stanley’s hand as he took over with much subtler movements. He slowly pulled the waistband up and over, letting it rest across his thighs. Where his cock drove a tent into his boxers there was a large wet spot, steadily expanding as another bead of precum twitched out of him.
The Narrator hummed and slid his fingers into Stanley’s underwear, letting the fabric ride up on his hand as he found Stanley’s length.
Stanley groaned, shivering as cool air brushed his cock between hot fingers. But the Narrator’s grip was so weak, barely grabbing him, just grazing over it like he was trying to solve a rubix cube. The way the Narrator toyed with him made Stanley shudder with arousal. He snorted an uncomfortable laugh. “This is almost worse than nothing.”
“I’m doing what you asked. I’m touching you, am I not?” The Narrator said, pleased. “You’re going to have to ask me if there’s something else you want me to do. I’ll be happy to do whatever you have in mind. And I mean whatever you want.”
“It’s gonna be like that, huh?” Stanley winced, groaning as his cock throbbed to the taunting. This was such a bad idea. In a hospital? But now that they’d gotten this far, it was torture to think of stopping now, of not getting some sort of relief. “Can you… give me… a handjob? Please? Make me come real quick?” He was losing it.
The Narrator chuckled. “Good, Stanley. That’s what I was waiting for.”
As promised, he wrapped his hand fully around Stanley’s cock. He pressed his palm to the head, rubbing it in Stanley’s ridiculous amount of precum, then dragged it down as lube. Stanley groaned as the Narrator stroked his balls, cupping and thumbing them. His hands were broad, calluses pleasantly scratching across his skin as he stroked his cock and squeezed. He still didn't grip too hard, probably due to a lack of real lube. Stanley was growing impatient, not to mention nervous.
“You can go harder,” Stanley said, eyes flicking toward the window. The Narrator tutted as he tilted his gaze over his shoulder, following Stanley’s. He rolled his fingers around the head of Stanley’s dripping cock.
“Ask nicely, and I’ll consider it. I need some incentive to risk getting caught in the act like this, Stanley,” he said, dragging his rough palm from root to tip.
Stanley groaned, gritting his teeth. He didn’t have the strength to fight back. “ Please. Please, for the love of – Please do it harder, please just make me come.”
“That’s better.” The Narrator lifted his hand, the other taking its place. Stanley’s eyes widened as he watched the Narrator lick his palm. His palm which had been coated in Stanley’s precum. The Narrator leered at him over his fingers, toying with Stanley’s cock as he exchanged the precum off his hand for saliva. Then he spit into it.
Down it went, back to Stanley’s cock, where he wrapped it possessively around him and pumped, spreading spit all over him. Stanley groaned, tipping his head back as the Narrator stroked him up and down, gripping him firmly and twisting every time he came up. He rubbed his palm over the head and squeezed around the length as he stroked. Each time his hand crested the crown, his fingers fondled the ridge and played over his slit, giving attention to every last nook. It was the most thorough handjob Stanley had ever received.
“Shh,” the Narrator murmured, his free hand firm on Stanley’s hip. “Shh, Stanley.”
“Keep talking,” Stanley gasped. “Fuck – p-please.”
“Whatever you like,” the Narrator purred. “Just keep your beautiful voice down for me. I have to keep an ear out for anyone approaching. You may not care now, but I think you will regret it in the future if we do get caught and you’re known as a sexual deviant to everyone in this hospital.”
He was right; Stanley didn’t give a damn anymore. But he tried to listen anyway, bit his lip and shut himself up.
The Narrator was dragging his hand up when he suddenly let go, pulling Stanley’s pants up and yanking the blanket back across him. Stanley groaned at the devastating absence of his hand, just as the door opened and a nurse walked in.
“Oh honey, is it still hurting?” the nurse said, shuffling to the computer. “I can give you some more morphine.”
“That would do fine, won't it, Stanley?” The Narrator said. He sounded way too composed. Show-off.
“I’ll get you set up with that and then I need to get some more information from you.”
Stanley blew out a breath, heat pulsing painfully between his legs. It took far too many minutes for the nurse to ask his questions and leave, telling them that the doctor would be in soon to give Stanley his scan results.
Once the nurse left, Stanley tore the blanket off of his waist. The Narrator made an amused noise, taking up his position between Stanley and the door and spitting into his hand. To Stanley’s relief, he got right back to it. He gripped Stanley at the root and squeezed as he pulled up, over and over, like he was trying to milk the cum out of his cock, his palm engulfing him in heavy heat.
“Mm… You must be close, hmm? It’s been hours since you’ve been yearning for this, hasn’t it?” The Narrator said as he pumped Stanley’s cock a little faster. The spit was drying up, but it didn’t really matter, the slight pull mingling with the distant pain from his arm. “Poor Stanley, so turned on with no release, and for so long.”
“Shit – I’m gonna – fuck –” Stanley hissed, trying to keep his voice a whisper.
“Are you about to come? Tell me, Stanley,” the Narrator said, and his hand slowed, clenching around the base of Stanley’s cock.
Stanley nodded, pleasure building under the Narrator’s diligent hand. “Yes, yes, I’m so close, please don’t stop, please–”
For a terrifying moment, Stanley thought he was just going to stop and leave him like that. It would have fit his pattern of fucking with Stanley. Or so Stanley thought.
When the Narrator did quite the opposite of that and suddenly bent over, shoving Stanley’s cock into his mouth, Stanley choked on a groan. He slapped his hand over his mouth, bucking up into the wet, encompassing heat and coming immediately. The Narrator’s mouth was incredible, his soft cheeks suctioning to Stanley’s cock as cum pulsed into his throat. The thick pillow of a tongue stroked the head of his cock while the Narrator’s hand continued to pump at the base, wringing him dry. It was a sopping wet, hot heaven in that mouth.
The Narrator pulled off, running his finger across his mouth and licking his lips. He had swallowed every drop.
“Mm. Sorry, couldn’t let you make an incriminating mess of yourself,” he said. A few more strands of hair hung down in front of his eyes, his face flushed.
The rush of satisfaction had Stanley pinned, unwilling to move as the euphoria and warmth of orgasm waned.
“You’re so messed up,” said Stanley when he could finally speak.
“You didn’t like it?” the Narrator said, clearly knowing the answer.
Stanley rolled his eyes. “It was fucking great, windbag.”
The Narrator smiled at him, stroking Stanley’s hip. “Is there more I can do for you, Stanley?”
Stanley’s eyes widened, his gaze flicking from the door back to him. “Yes.” He didn’t care if his dick was spent and flaccid.