Sea-Salt and the Deep

by Triapze

Summary:

Short stories of the Doctor and Ulpianus spending time together, starting from when the Doctor first hires him.

Rating will change.

Notes:

first longfic,,, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Chapter 1: First Meetings

The Doctor reaches a hand out to the pale man before him.

 

The other man stares at the hand.

 

"Ulpianus."

 

The name rolls on his tongue easily, and he looks at the outstretched hand reaching toward him.

 

" Welcome to Rhodes Island.  I've heard of you from the other Abyssal Hunters, " the Doctor says , and for the first time that evening, Ulpianus accepts his hand.  His pale skin is even more shocking under direct light, and it almost glows in a blueish hue.

 

Ulpianus's face is composed, betraying no emotion.  The Doctor does not doubt for a second that he could kill any one of his kind with those bare hands, and he is reminded yet again that he was once Aegir's fiercest weapon against the Seaborn .   Though it should, it does not scare him.  Quite the opposite, in fact; despite the reputation that precedes his kind, there is a slight desire growing in his stomach to observe Ulpianus up close and feel those calloused hands around his neck, squeezing his throat.

 

That's a new one, the Doctor thinks, not quite sure how to react to his own mind, but in true fashion, keeps the thought to himself.  Instead, he gives Ulpianus a radiant smile — the kind one puts on when they're trying to suppress dangerous desires — and then turns around, urging him with a small flick of his wrist to follow.

 

"I'm sure Amiya or Kal'tsit told you, but you'll be on assistant duty ," He tells him.  Ulpianus nods.  It's odd how still and quiet he is.  And yet his silence is nothing like Gladiia's .

 

They walk in tandem down the corridor that leads to their rooms, surrounded by Operators, Human Resources, and Adapted Personnel alike — and he quickly feels the shift of atmosphere caused by Ulpianus's very presence.  He hears murmurs and sighs, feels the chill of their judging glares crawling up his spine; they are not afraid, for he trusts everyone at Rhodes Island implicitly, but they are filled with concern and skepticism nonetheless.  Yet as quickly as it came, their anxiety leaves their shoulders and they fall into easier conversation again.

 

No wonder, he muses as he passes them, for Ulpianus stands out with his pale skin and burly arms, an unwavering sense of hostility clinging to his skin.  Next to him, the Operators that are far smaller look vulnerable; weak; like they would give in the face of a stronger foe.

 

"It's rude to stare," the Doctor finds himself reprimanding them with a sharp voice, though there's not much scorn in his tone.  "He'll be here for a while.  I'll expect you to treat him with the same respect as any other Operator — he won't harm you."

 

And because they know their employer and realize this is a request rather than an order, they fall out and keep their mumbling to themselves, doing their best to leave their animosity at bay.  The Doctor takes it all in stride, yet as soon as the crowd has turned into the cafeteria, he breathes a sigh of relief and is glad for a moment of silence.

 

It is only when the automatic doors have closed and both of them are safely inside the office that the Doctor calls: "Let's have a chat."

 

Ulpianus looks at him in surprise, cocking his head, almost bird-like.  "I'm just," the Doctor starts, fumbling over words he doesn't know yet, his thoughts a mess as the adrenaline is still rushing through his veins, "I'm just saying...  Let me know if anyone bothers you."

 

This makes him take a pause.  " Fear is commonplace," the Aegir notes.  "It is my burden to bear."

 

Ah, the Doctor's mouth twitches in self-derisive mirth, "That doesn't quite answer the question, but alright then."

 

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"  Ulpianus asks quietly, cocking his head.

 

The Doctor shakes his head fervently, holding up his hands, waving them back and forth in a manner that he hopes conveys his sentiment.  "No!  Not at all!  You're rather polite . "  He laughs to diffuse the tension.  To ease the knots that threaten to form in his chest.  Because as much as he is enjoying Ulpianus' unreserved bluntness, he can't help but find his antics rather...  Interesting.  Like him.  And that somehow scares him more than he can ever let on.  "You're welcome to join me if you want.  I won't bite.  In fact, you don't need to go out of your way to talk to me.  If you want to try out the Rhodes Island food that's all it is!   It's pretty good, if I do say so myself. "  The Doctor can feel the heat at his face, cheeks burning as he speaks.  But his pride is more important than his embarrassment—which is the only thing that compels him to respond - he can't bear the thought of letting something stand unchallenged.  His fingers turn white, trembling slightly as he tries to compose himself.

 

"I cannot comprehend the value behind this act of random kindness," he says with all seriousness, pauses, watching him carefully, considering his next words, "So why? Why waste your time for my favor?"

 

"I, um," he stumbles over himself, feeling blood rush to his cheeks, tongue darting out to moisten his dry lips before realizing it's an awkward, nervous gesture and quickly tucks it away.  "I just think it's important for the staff members to get along.  That's all."

 

Ulpianus narrows his eyes, contemplating him, trying to solve a puzzle before answering, "How kind."

 

He's thankful when the man doesn't comment further, instead just falling back into an uneasy silence.

 

"Thank you," the man adds finally, the words tumbling off his tongue, and the Doctor knows he's completely fucking surprised him again with another response that makes no sense at all.  "It's not bad to be friendly to one another."

 

The Doctor nods his head numbly, but it still does nothing to keep the growing unease prickling the back of his mind.  "Pft, we'll get by."

 

The way he's pushing this is starting to look suspicious.  But he's not prepared to back down now.  The Doctor clears his throat awkwardly.

 

There is a lengthy, unnatural silence.

 

"Just being in your vicinity seems...  Relaxing."

 

The Doctor gulps, his mouth going dry as he feels his own heart pounding in his chest.  What kind of response is that supposed to be?  He takes another deep breath, then pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales.

 

"If you like, I'll let you eat in peace."

 

"No need.  Please, stay, it'll be nice!"

 

He can practically see the gears in Ulpianus's head turning at a million miles per hour, weighing everything he just heard.  Then he sighs.  "All right, if you insist."

 

Then, after the Doctor has caught his breath, and straightened himself out, the Doctor looks up once more.  His pulse is beginning to settle now.  This shouldn't be so nerve-wracking, should it?  The whole point is to see how much he can milk out of the goodwill of his fellow human beings - to see how far he can go before they break.  Is there a limit?  Will the man react badly when the Doctor steps over some imaginary threshold?

 

"Are you thirsty?"  The man asks him, rather than answering the question himself.

 

He shakes his head no.

 

"Hungry?"  He asks, and the Doctor nods yes.

 

After that day, for some reason, the Doctor started sharing lunches with Ulpianus daily.

Chapter 2: Cinnamon Spiced Apples

Summary:

The Doctor and Ulpianus spend some time eating together.

Notes:

ulpipi come home

They've become fast comrades over the last few months.

 

During lunch, they drink tea and eat their meals mostly in silence.  Even though they don't share the same hobbies, they nonetheless enjoy each other's presence.  Ulpianus is always polite and tidy.  That's enough to make the Doctor's chest grow warm in response.  As time passes, Ulpianus begins to let his guard down and the Doctor finds him to be quite caring and, dare he say it, even protective.  

 

And he talks to him, something he does rarely with anyone else in Rhodes Island.  Some part of him would probably never admit that he is lonely, even when he is surrounded by others.  This is fine, this arrangement they have.  But on certain nights, he decides to risk breaking the status quo between the two of them.

 

"Would you mind if I cooked for you sometime?"

 

Ulpianus blinks, glancing at him curiously.

 

He huffs, before nodding once.

 

The Doctor freezes momentarily.  "Thank you," he says, coughing into his fist to clear his throat, eyes averted, cheeks flushed.

 

The Doctor had his reservations about how things would progress from there, yet strangely, the cooking activities followed the same pattern every week: the first day the Doctor's usual ramen, which Ulpianus strongly disapproved of - "That is incredibly dangerous," he would mutter, shaking his head - while Ulpianus helped out wherever he can and even made the first coffee of the day.  Later that evening, the Doctor prepares dinner for the two of them while Ulpianus leans on a nearby table, arms crossed and eyebrows raised quizzically, watching the Doctor cook and trying not to interrupt or interfere; by the time they actually sit together to eat, the meal would end awkwardly in silence, neither of them knowing what to talk about afterwards; and, after cleaning up, it's time for them to part ways, usually in silence.

 

While the Doctor's eating has not improved that much, his feelings toward Ulpianus - that is to say, the Doctor has started to get attached to the strange creature that is Ulpianus.  When he thinks about the times they've eaten together, especially as of late, his stomach does funny things, twisting itself in knots whenever their eyes lock.  He wonders whether Ulpianus will continue sharing meals with him after today and cannot tell exactly why this makes his heart flutter.  Although he would not go as far as admitting it, the Doctor likes spending time with him; he enjoys watching his reactions whenever they converse, learning about how he views the world and the people within it, even though they don't fully understand each other. Even more important than that is that Ulpianus understands things, accepts them.

 

He would never speak these thoughts aloud, though.

 

To maintain some degree of professionalism, the Doctor always brings Ulpianus a dessert or two - mainly sweets and pastries from the canteen, like sugar biscuits and chocolate chip cupcakes.  The Doctor prefers savory foods, but Ulpianus seems happy with anything, as long as he has something to chew on while reading documents.

 

One afternoon, on one particularly chilly day, the Doctor brings in a container filled with baked apples; he's pretty pleased with his cooking skills these days, despite the fact they're nowhere close to rivaling Gummy's when it comes to perfection.  The apples have been cooked until soft, their skins have turned crispy around the edges, the insides melting into a sticky deliciousness when he slices into them with his fork.  He has even added a pinch of cinnamon for flavor.

 

"I had two fresh apples left over from the fruit basket in our dining room earlier this morning so thought I'd bake these before they spoil," the Doctor explains, handing Ulpianus the container filled with treats.  "They've cooled a bit so they won't burn your tongue.  Go on, try one."

 

Ulpianus pauses, turning to the side before pulling his mask off in a way such that the Doctor cannot see his face, then speaks.

 

"Very well, Doctor.  Thank you."

 

Without another word, he carefully unwraps the lid of the container.  Inside are two freshly baked apples; their natural scent rises up immediately, wafting towards them as he pops the lid open.  He takes a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance deeply; his nostrils flare slightly as his breath is filled by its scent.  His lips part slightly as the aroma hits his nose.  He lets out a soft hum; he shuts his eyes and exhales slowly, letting his breath release with the motion.  It feels nice to relax like this.  It makes his body ache less.

 

In short, to sum up his reaction in simple words - he was hungry.  Famished, even.

 

He takes a piece of apple from the container and places it in his mouth; the sweet, juicy flavor instantly overwhelms his senses as his long tongue wraps around the piece of fruit.  When it touches his lips, he closes his eyes again, savoring the taste as much as possible as the sweet juices coat his lips, smearing them slightly.  His brows furrow slightly, concentrating on enjoying the sensation of chewing, rolling the pieces of apple along the ridges of his palate, along his fanged teeth, feeling them crush under the force of his sharp molars as he bites down hard, savoring the delicious crunch and crack.

 

"Good?"  The Doctor asks with a quiet smile.  He's learned not to initiate a conversation while they eat as the other man tends to get distracted.

 

"...  You did good, Doctor."

 

His chest swells at the compliment.

 

Ulpianus slips his mask back on, and turns back to the Doctor.

 

"Thank you."

 

He couldn't help but gaze at the man.

 

He looks at his long silvery-white hair, smooth and well-groomed, wrapped neatly into a low ponytail and tied at its base with a teal ribbon, trailing lazily to his back.  His body appears bulky even though it's covered with layers upon layers of fabric, yet oddly elegant; his clothing consists of a coat that accentuates his shoulders perfectly, complimenting the charcoal-black turtleneck sweater underneath it, hugging his broad frame snugly.  Underneath, Ulpianus is clad in practical gray pants, revealing only hints of how toned his legs are beneath all those layers.

 

Maybe one day he can crush me between those thighs, the Doctor suddenly fantasizes, and quickly blinks his eyes open, pushing the thought out of his mind.

 

And then, there's the last item of clothing, covering the lower part of his face.

 

"Why are you staring so hard at me?"  Ulpianus inquires with curiosity.

 

"Do you always wear that?  Your mask," the Doctor asks curiously.

 

"My face is-"  The man pauses.   “Not…  Pleasant to look at.  My mouth...  Does not resemble yours, Doctor," he finally answers, gesturing vaguely towards his mouth.

 

"Can I see it?"  The Doctor murmurs softly, wishing to appease his own curiosity.

 

Silence fills the air for a long, awkward moment.

 

"Perhaps...  But not today, Doctor," Ulpianus replies quietly, his tone neutral, flat.  "Perhaps never.”

 

His voice sounds steady and calm as he speaks, but his words clearly suggest the matter isn't up for discussion, bringing the conversation to a close.  But despite that, the Doctor sees the uncomfortable, troubled look on his face for the first time.

 

He wonders how he looks, but doesn't dare ask again.

 

The Doctor soon says his goodbyes and leaves, keeping in mind to bring some warm tea next time.

Notes:

drop your hcs in the comments i need more ideas

Chapter 3: Song of the Abyss

Summary:

The Doctor finds Ulpianus singing an old Aegir song.

Notes:

slow burns are so hard. i just want to write them making out already

A rhythmic monotone - that's what first strikes the Doctor's ears as he focuses on that sound, that voice.  It's the low hum of some strange, unknown person which reverberates through the corridors and draws the Doctor's attention so far in the landship.  The sound itself is as far from mundane as anything a sea creature could sing - if the Doctor closes his eyes, his mind fills with a chorus of Aegir, as if their voices have suddenly penetrated the frigid water and their notes pierce the water like spears. Such a serene, simple melody, sung with confidence…  If he knew no better, the Doctor would think that this voice came straight from the depths of the abyss itself, with how calm and majestic it sounds.

 

Ulpianus.

 

He can't help but sigh.  It has been a while since the Doctor has heard something like this, and it makes him curious to learn the language they sing in; though they can't understand a word, something about that voice makes his heart beat a bit faster.  The words must sound important, but the Doctor's attention returns to the lyrics after a while.  The phrases linger on as the tempo picks up slightly.  All throughout it, there's such a gentle rhythm, such a melodious diction, that he just wants to be lulled to sleep by it.

 

Eventually, Ulpianus' song lapsed into silence.  Was that all of it?  Had the Doctor lost the chance to hear any more?  He's not sure why he's feeling so nostalgic for a moment already passed, like those songs haven't rung in his ears in millennia.  And yet, maybe he longed to have that sound play on a loop, over and over again.

 

All these thoughts and more flash through his mind.  Although he tries to shut his eyes and step back, the Doctor remains there, listening intently.  He can't move from his spot, as if someone is preventing him from going any further away than he is.  His chest heaves as if Ulpianus has reached in and seized his heart, for that's what it feels like. 

 

 Why is it beating so frantically?

 

The voice slowly fades away into the dark depths of the corridor; the Doctor strains to hold on to it just a moment longer, but in the end his attempts are futile.  The melody seems to fade into nothingness.  And now it is gone, leaving nothing behind but the soft darkness around him - and those haunting thoughts.

 

The Doctor can't help himself.  That, and his curiosity, lead him onward, past where the song stopped echoing through the hallways.  The Doctor can only move towards its source.

 

He walks onto the R.I. deck.

 

Ulpianus starts singing another song, seemingly unaware of his audience, as if it is meant only for himself.  His melodies ring out through the halls, echoing off the walls until they reach the deck.  Each verse seeps into the floorboards, vibrating through them and rising up into the Doctor's feet.  The beat slowly climbs, as does the pitch of his voice.  Now and again it'll speed up, but never enough to break the calmness of the Doctor's mind.  The only sounds around are the reverberating music, and his breathing.  Every now and then, the Doctor might feel Ulpianus' chest heave with a sigh.  Or maybe his breathing will start growing quicker, heavier, sending sparks tingling through every inch of his skin.  He imagines himself standing beside the man, enveloped in his gentle embrace.

 

They will be each other's sole company in this vast expanse, amidst a sea of stars.  They'll feel their body heat pressed against each other, melting the space between the two.  He won't ever be alone again.

 

If only.  He smiles fondly at his own thoughts, but is snapped back into reality when he realizes he's been leaning against the railing, staring out towards the stars.  The Doctor wills himself back to his senses and continues forward.

 

But...  He can't resist the urge to continue listening to the sound.  It's impossible not to want to hear Ulpianus' deep, captivating voice.

 

After several minutes, the Doctor finally stumbles upon what the sound was coming from: it is the open doors of the dining room, where the evening meal was just recently over and the hall has become empty.  Through its windows lies a spectacular view: a starry sky full of bright points in every shade of color imaginable, reflected in the twilight of dawn as it begins to set on this world below.  All of the other Operators have already vanished off into their cabins.

 

The Doctor steps forward onto the balcony that hangs out over the bay of windows.  He sees Ulpianus' silhouette standing in the far left corner, leaning on the rail overlooking the endless sea as he stares off into space.  After a moment, the Doctor quietly clears his throat, not wanting to startle him.

 

"Doctor..."

 

"Just listening to your singing, Ulpianus," the Doctor admits, blushing slightly.

 

"..."

 

Ulpianus continues on with his melody without a trace of hesitation, undisturbed by the appearance of an audience.  The Doctor watches for a moment, mesmerized by his performance.

 

He sounds beautiful when he's singing so deeply; the rich notes flow through his chest and echo off the walls.  His tone shifts slightly as his low voice becomes more audible; has he grown fond of his new audience?  The Doctor's been watching him for a few minutes, and he's completely lost track of time, leaving him amazed as the song draws on.  Eventually, it wraps up, and the hall grows silent again.

 

"What were you singing about?"

 

Ulpianus turns his head toward the speaker, casting an inquisitive glance.  The Doctor walks closer to the railing and clasps his hands together to show that he's not nervous.

 

"Sorry…  I just really enjoy your voice.  You've got quite the strong one."

 

Ulpianus pauses for a moment, but then laughs dryly, turning his eyes away.  "I'm honored," he replies, "Thank you."  The two stand and observe the horizon.  It's a peaceful moment, and he relaxes a little.  A soft breeze blows across the waves, causing ripples on the surface, as the sky gradually begins to grow brighter.

 

There's another minute of silence, only broken by the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance.  Then, Ulpianus says softly, "It is an Aegir lullaby, one that I learned a long time ago when I was still young.

"

The Doctor glances at him inquisitively. "So this is why it is like that?"

 

Ulpianus looks at the doctor with a curious expression, then raises his head and tilts it toward the distant sun setting over the ocean horizon.  He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.  When he opens them again, his gaze seems troubled and hesitant.

 

"Why do you want to know these things?"  He asks quietly, "Why are you so interested in my past?"

 

The Doctor isn't sure how to answer that question.

 

"Well, for starters, it's because I want to get to know you better.  And also because I think we should spend more time together.  I don't know if I can call you my friend yet, but maybe someday soon."  The Doctor shrugs and smiles sheepishly.  "Plus, you haven't said much about yourself, and that bothers me too...  And no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I can't stop thinking about it."

 

"I..." Ulpianus mumbles, feeling quite surprised.  He really hasn't said anything about himself.  This is the longest conversation they've had since the first time they met.

 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."  The Doctor gives him an apologetic glance.

 

"It's fine.  It's...  Just something I prefer not to discuss.  Too many bad memories."  Ulpianus explains quietly.  "But if you want, I guess I could tell you more about the lullaby."

 

"That would be great, thank you."  The Doctor flashes a grateful smile, "And, I really appreciate your trust.  Thanks for opening up to me."

 

Their conversation seems to flow smoothly after that.  While the Doctor can't follow some of Ulpianus' more detailed explanations, he keeps listening attentively, taking everything in.

 

Ulpianus eventually runs out of things to say, and the Doctor's eyes start to droop, tired from listening too long.  "I think that's enough for tonight.  You should probably rest.  It's getting late.  I’m sure Amiya is worried."

 

The Doctor nods, and abruptly asks one last question, "Can I sit with you again?  Tomorrow, at the same time?"

 

Ulpianus blinks in surprise.  Then slowly nods.  "Sure."

 

Then, Ulpianus leaves, leaving the Doctor alone with his thoughts.

Notes:

i listened to vows of the sea on repeat while writing this

Chapter 4: Ill, Irrational

Summary:

The doctor catches a cold. Ulpianus, surprisingly, cares for him.

Notes:

sickfic sickfic sickfic sickfic
also some progress on the relationship front lol

On the rare instances that the Doctor gets sick, he insists on staying in his workroom to complete the day's writing.  He was prone to such stubbornness.  This morning, the doctor awakens with a cold; the symptoms are so slight and unnoticeable, he barely acknowledges it at first.  At breakfast, an intense headache forces him to finally recognize his condition.  That afternoon, it becomes more pronounced: a weariness sets into his muscles, fatigue takes hold.  As the night progressed, it worsens into chills and feverish sweats until even his skin begins to burn up.  All day, he has resisted every need for comfort or succor.  No bed.  No soup.  Not a single word to admit that he is indeed ill, much less why.

 

He has no tolerance for weakness, his own or others.  At the slightest hint of illness he refuses to acknowledge anything until the cold is gone.  Though this is an admirable quality, for him it becomes maddening and counterproductive.  Colds never leave him as quickly as he'd like; instead, they run their course.  Unchecked.  That night, the Doctor decided that he was too sick to sleep and stayed up until his mind became drowsy enough for him to fall asleep right there at the table.  He woke up sometime around one or two in the morning to find Ulpianus standing over him; his hands rested on the back of the chair while peering down at the Doctor.

 

His body felt heavy with exhaustion and pain.  Despite his efforts, the fever raged in his veins and burned through him like liquid fire.  In silence, Ulpianus helps him up to his feet and assists him back to his room.  Too weak to walk, the Doctor could barely manage his own steps.  He was reluctant to show this weakness, and felt ashamed when Ulpianus supported him as they made their way down the hall toward his chambers.  It seemed further than ever before.  By the time they reach his bedside he is breathing heavily, trembling.  His face was flushed red, shining with perspiration.  Ulpianus used a damp towel and bowl of water sitting on the nightstand next to the bed to cool down the Doctor's fever.  When finished, Ulpianus gathered fresh bedding then lifted up the exhausted, feverish man onto the bed and replaced the covers over the Doctor's limp limbs with fresh, soft linens, carefully arranging the blankets around him.

 

If the Doctor had been more alert at this point he might have asked Ulpianus why, or what the fuck he thought he was doing, but he didn't care enough to bother.  He simply sighed softly and continued breathing heavily as he lay still under the blankets.  Once satisfied that everything was done properly, Ulpianus left and soon returned with a tray in one hand carrying a bowl of warm broth.  With the same silent concern that was already deeply concerning the Doctor, Ulpianus helped him sit upright before placing it on the bedside table within easy reach.  Then he moved behind the Doctor, handing over the bowl.  The effort of raising it to his mouth to drink nearly exhausted the Doctor's strength.

 

He wanted to push Ulpianus away.  To tell him to stop treating the Doctor so tenderly, so gently. At this rate I'll fall in love, the Doctor thought deliriously.

 

Ulpianus was not helping matters.  As the Doctor sipped at the broth, he sat at the edge of the bed, his crimson eyes fixed intently upon him, studying his expression, his lips.  Everything.  Even now as the Doctor struggled to bring the spoon to his mouth in one hand while the other clutched a pillow for support.  It should have been unnerving how attentive he remained throughout this entire process, but somehow Ulpianus exuded more concern than his blank expression showed.

 

After finishing his meal, the Doctor didn't think about what happened next - he just acted. Without warning or any hint of hesitation, he grasped Ulpianus' hand tightly in his and clung onto it like a drowning man desperately holding on for dear life.

 

"Don't leave me alone," the Doctor whispered hoarsely, and without questioning why or arguing otherwise, Ulpianus quietly allowed it.

 

Possibly because he understood, or maybe he merely acquiesced, but either way the result was clear: Ulpianus stayed.  There was no way to measure how much time passed since then; time flows differently when ill, its movement measured not in minutes or hours but rather in the cadence of one's heartbeat or breath.  Every so often, after a short interval, Ulpianus would rise, cross the room, dip the cloth again.  As gentle as ever before, he traced along the Doctor's brow and cheeks.

 

The Doctor slept.  Dreamlessly, peacefully.  Even in this state, though, Ulpianus remained.  A silent guardian looming overhead.  Watching.  Staring down upon him with glowing eyes.  Was there nothing else to do during those late hours but stare?

 

When daylight reached, the Doctor awoke at last and found Ulpianus still there; standing motionless beside the bed.  Looking down at him, watching.  And for the first time since their acquaintance, he saw what seemed like relief visible within those glowing eyes.  Though the fever seemed worse than ever before, he felt much calmer than yesterday night.  In fact, this must've been the most peaceful sleep he'd experienced in ages...  Probably since before his amnesia.  Was it because of Ulpianus' presence?  He couldn't tell.  Perhaps so.

 

However, more importantly, there was another detail demanding immediate consideration: what was wrong with him?

 

Why was he suddenly acting this way?!  Why had he grasped at Ulpianus' hand?!  Even he couldn't fathom his behavior yesterday; something strange came over him.

 

In fact, more bewildering than anything, why had he asked this demon - no, monster - to stay with him?!  What madness had overtaken his reason?  Perhaps that sickness was indeed not merely a physical malady but an insidious disease affecting his mental faculties.

 

What exactly were these feelings stirring within his breast whenever Ulpianus drew close?  Were they due to sickness or merely some sort of biological impulse?  What kind of sickness causes such symptoms?!  It had to have stemmed from another source!

 

But what if the explanation for these emotions was actually quite simple - what if it was attraction?!

 

If so, then every small action, every tiny gesture was purposeful: the way he looked at him; the way he reacted; the way he touched.

 

A seed had been planted in the night, its roots digging deep, and its seed-head, heavy with pollen, buried deep inside his heart.  The most perplexing aspect of the situation, however, is why?  Why was he here?!  Why would he care enough to remain here?!

 

The silence filled every corner of the room.  Moments ticked by, unending, countless.  Minutes went by in strained, painful stillness while the two of them sat together awkwardly; neither looking at one another yet aware of one another's presence, until the Doctor could no longer stand it.

"Why did you do it?"  He eventually asked.  "Why did you stay?"

 

"Because you're sick," Ulpianus replied matter-of-factly.  "I'm responsible for seeing you through. You appointed me as your assistant, remember?”

 

It wasn't clear what kind of answer the Doctor expected - let alone hoped for - but what he received stung all the same, if not worse.  There was something bittersweet, even depressing, about receiving such a logical, practical response from someone who acted the way he did last night.  He may as well be talking to a brick wall...  It was strange, frustratingly so, to see him act indifferent towards everything, even to himself.

 

But did it matter?  Did any of it really matter?  The fact of the matter remained, after all, that his fever had indeed subsided during the night; its grip lessened significantly throughout the day.  Though still weak and miserable, the worst of it was over and he finally could think clearly again.  It was all thanks to Ulpianus.

 

But it seemed ridiculous now, to think of Ulpianus tending to him last night, letting the Doctor cling to his hand as if something precious was slipping through his fingers, all the while without giving any indication whatsoever whether he enjoyed having such contact or was embarrassed about it or if he even knew how much it meant...  The two of them were practically strangers. And yet…  Perhaps he shouldn't judge.  They may have shared so little between each other, if anything at all, but somewhere along the way, somehow, Ulpianus had done something few people would be willing to do.

 

"Thank you," the Doctor said quietly.

 

"It's nothing.  Do you feel better now?"  Ulpianus asked.

 

"Yes.  Much better.  Thanks to you."

 

"So then I shall take my leave now.  Shall I make breakfast or would you prefer some tea or coffee?"

 

"Yeah.  Breakfast, please."

 

With a nod and without a word, Ulpianus walked out of the room, returning soon enough with a tray carrying a pot of tea, cups and bowls.  He set everything down on the nightstand then served the Doctor some soup while he sipped at his tea.  The two of them sat in silence as they ate and drank - nothing was amiss or uncomfortable about it.  It was as if nothing unusual or odd had occurred at all.

 

Maybe that is for the best, the Doctor thought, recalling the feeling of having held Ulpianus' hand in his own.  If he could just hold on to it for a bit longer and just a little harder then maybe then...  Then what?

 

No matter. Right now, he needed to recover completely and return to his work.  That came first. This too would pass… 

 

Hopefully.

Notes:

h*nd h*lding, how lewd

Chapter 5: Siestan Gelato

Summary:

The Doctor and Ulpianus are in Siesta under the sweltering sun.

Notes:

slow burns are so agonizing to write. i get it now.

When the Doctor called over his shoulder, the sun was hot against his back, soaking through the linen of his shirt and blistering the flesh of his neck.  Ulpianus was standing, his large frame casting a cooling shadow over the Doctor, like a gift bestowed by a distant god — and he took full advantage of it.

 

He wasn't sure how long they had been walking through the baking Siestan streets; his boots were already heavy with sweat, and his feet felt blistered and rubbed raw beneath the laces.  Even though the worst of the day had passed, it was still warm enough to raise beads of sweat on his skin.  He swore he could feel the heat seeping into his very bones.  His throat was dry and parched from thirst, but he didn't ask for a break; Ulpianus was similarly bothered by the weather, but his heightened physiology, hardened by endless battle and torment, managed to mask the effects the blistering heat had on him; he stepped lightly over the broken pavement, his movements slow, yet graceful.

 

However, Ulpianus seemed acutely aware of how the Doctor felt, his piercing red eyes scanning over him intently - "Doctor, are you alright?"

 

"Yeah, I just need a moment to rest."

 

After pausing for a brief moment, Ulpianus glanced at the nearby shop, noticing the drinks within.

 

"Why don't you take a break there?  I can get you some refreshments."

 

Before the Doctor could reply, he disappeared into the store, leaving him alone to bathe in the heat.  Noticing how unbearable it was, the Doctor turned and headed towards the shade, catching a glimpse of the dim interior within the narrow storefront.  Ulpianus stood near a cash register, his broad shoulders framed in the brilliant light that poured in from the windows.  Even with the mask concealing the lower half of his face, his handsome features made the Doctor's heart skip a beat, only worsening the infatuation that had slowly been budding within him.  Although there weren't many customers in the shop, there were still a number of other people here and there.  However, no one dared to step too close to Ulpianus; it was obvious how foreign he was just from the attire he wore - along with the fact that he was trying to cover most of his body, despite the heat.

 

The Doctor averted his gaze and waited as Ulpianus returned to his side. Cradling a drink in hand, he held out one of them towards him.

 

"Here you go. Something cool."

 

"Thank you..."

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he took the can from his outstretched hand and started to sip at the cool, sweet syrup mixed with soda water.  The ice inside clinked against the can as he swallowed, feeling it slide down his dry throat.  He looks over to the side, eyeing Ulpianus.

 

"Aren't you thirsty?"

 

"I can't drink in public, Doctor; this mask covers my mouth for a reason."

 

Ulpianus gestured towards his mouth.  It was still as hidden as usual, covered by his typical black mask.  Because of the dim light in the shade, the Doctor noticed a few beads of sweat slipping along Ulpianus' jaw.  Judging by how he carried himself, it was clear he was not as used to the heat as the Doctor assumed. I want to lick the sweat off his face, the Doctor thought.

 

... What?

 

For a brief moment, he glanced at Ulpianus and considered what he just thought.  He was not used to seeing his own urges written out so clearly like that.  However, he shook them away and stared into his drink.

 

"But you can still feel the heat.  Do you want to stay here, in the shade?"

 

"No, I'm fine.  We cannot linger here for long."

 

He nodded towards the crowded street.  Although no one lingered near Ulpianus, his sheer presence was alluring and drew the attention of more than a few passing glances, a slight shift in the air tugging the Doctor towards him.

 

"Ah, you're right.  Then let's get going."

 

Setting off beside him, the Doctor resumed his usual, brisk pace to catch up.  However, instead of matching his speed, Ulpianus slowed down to match him, like a knight guarding his liege - a gesture of protection.  Like usual, his eyes, which were as sharp as knives, constantly scanned the area around them, his stance and footsteps wary as he constantly guarded against any possible ambush.  For whatever it was, he looked like he was prepared for a fight, muscles tense, posture straight and rigid - like a tightly wound spring, waiting for the chance to pounce and cut through an unseen foe.

 

And it was strange to see - within a foreign environment like this, far from the cold waters he was so accustomed to, the Doctor thought there was nothing to fight, no immediate danger.  Seeing him on edge like this, being vigilant and protective, caused the Doctor's heart to skip a beat.  Although he did not say it, he was ecstatic to see him displaying so much concern for his well-being.

 

This small journey was taking longer than expected, mainly due to the Doctor's slow walking pace and preference for shady paths.  Still, the slow pace did not sit well with Ulpianus; his demeanor screamed for swift, urgent action.  Usually, he can conceal his desires, but when in battle or traveling, it was painfully obvious.  But that was fine, the Doctor thought.  The day was hot and exhausting enough for such a busy outing, but he would happily take all the time in the world if he was with Ulpianus.  Every step brought him the pleasure of enjoying his side profile: his piercing eyes, his body structure...  Not to mention every strand of his long hair which glistened white in the sunlight.

 

He wanted him.

 

Although the Doctor knows about his desires, he isn't used to it.  It's weird.  Very weird.  It's weird to be drawn to someone else, to crave their attention, to want their touch, to imagine what his voice would sound like gasping in his ear–

 

With a furtive glance and a quick breath to clear his mind, the Doctor continued on in silence, quietly following the taller man beside him.

 

Only about an hour passed, but the weather already was taking a toll on the Doctor, and his body was begging for respite; beads of sweat gathered and dripped down his forehead, while strands of hair began to stick to his temples, making him feel uncomfortable and rather annoyed.  One might say he was more resilient to the heat, but as soon as the sunlight began to poke through the shade, all the humidity stuck to his skin and made him feel like shit.

 

Ulpianus must've sensed his discomfort, since he often peered at him every now and then, waiting for the sign, waiting for the word to break their march.  As they picked up their pace, the Doctor began to reconsider this entire idea of getting off the ship in Siesta.  In hindsight, he should have stayed in the landship and not expose his poor body to the elements.  When they set foot into the shadows, he decided he's had enough.

 

"We should find a way to cool off somewhere..."  The Doctor murmured, letting the hot wind blow past him.  "Any ideas?"

 

His companion pointed to a spot: "I think I saw an ice cream parlor down this street."

 

"Oh."  Just as soon as he agreed, he let the excited Doctor lead the way.

 

At the next intersection, they made a slight turn and promptly arrived at an old-fashioned ice cream parlor, equipped with wooden tables and chairs that were arranged on the square in front of the store.  A mechanical fan in the corner produced an impressive buzz.  The smell of gelato and vanilla wafted from inside, enticing the Doctor in such a way that he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into the cold refreshment.  He glanced over at the other man.

 

"Do you want one?"

 

"No."  Ulpianus said while glancing around the crowd with a look on his face, "Take as long as you need.  I'll watch our surroundings."

 

Even though the parlor was air conditioned, it was still overly-crowded.  People flowed in and out the doors in endless waves.  A massive line crawled all the way out to the sidewalk.  To one side of the entrance, a display case of ice cream stretched out as far as one could see.  Every conceivable flavor and type of ice cream was available; it was mind-boggling.  Yet another mechanical fan spun lazily overhead.

 

By the time it was the Doctor's turn to order, he was finally given the chance to escape the unbearable heat.  After quickly making his selection, he thanked the employee and Ulpianus paid for his serving.  The two of them left in a flash, with the Doctor licking away at his strawberry gelato.

 

From outside, anyone walking by could clearly see his delight.  The Doctor could not help but hum his satisfaction.  Having found refuge in a seat in the shade, he decided to stretch out his legs and enjoy his gelato.  It had the creaminess and suppleness of frozen yogurt, but was smoother and felt almost dense as it melted on his tongue.  The sweet, smooth taste of berries danced along his taste buds.  With closed eyes and a face full of joy, he gently licked it, teasing the tip of his tongue along the rough surface and spreading the beads of melting ice cream on his lips.

 

Ulpianus silently observed him, observing the way he indulged in his gelato with an innocent, childlike ecstasy, like a kid discovering the dessert for the first time.  The Doctor’s tongue slithered and flitted across the gelato, seeking to scoop up and taste every drop it could find, drawing lines, circles, lines and more circles across his cone.  Despite the many flavors, the Doctor chose the simplest and most basic.  But he was in the middle of savoring it as if it was the most exquisite delicacy.

 

Before the Doctor realized what he was doing, Ulpianus casually reached his hand over to his chin, lightly rubbing against him with his thumb and wiping away the drippings of strawberry gelato right from under the corner of his lips.  The Doctor's body went rigid under his brief touch, and a flame ignited somewhere in his gut.  As their eyes met, a flash of something he'd never seen in that look froze him.  Like a cat watching his prey, Ulpianus stared at him, gaze burning into him - until a wave of embarrassment flushed through the Doctor's cheeks, breaking their eye contact.  He looked away quickly.

 

Then, his gaze fell upon Ulpianus' finger, still covered with melted gelato and saliva from his own mouth.  He couldn't bear to make eye contact anymore.

 

"...  What are you doing?"  He asked quietly.

 

"You made a mess," was the other's simple answer.

 

While it seemed like an everyday, ordinary gesture, it had sparked the Doctor's interest.  An odd curiosity ignited in his heart.  As his heart skipped a beat, he wondered if the other could also see the heat radiating off of his cheeks.  At that moment, he was burning with a desire for him.  He'd become aroused just by witnessing his actions, just like a hormonal teen would.  The Doctor felt his face heating up.  He wanted Ulpianus to pin him down with those icy palms; to go farther, further than before.  Forbidden images flashed through his mind; how his skin would prickle in delight if the other buried his nose in his pale neck, softly, quietly; to drag his smooth tongue all over his spine…  The Doctor immediately flushed a deeper red.

 

"Oh.  Sorry."  Flustered and unsettled, he hurriedly wiped the corner of his mouth with his own finger, only to smear the sticky droplets all over his face, but he managed to wipe some of it off and saw that Ulpianus' face had retained its usual dignity, complete with a trace of that familiar condescension.

 

"...  Let's go."  A soft whisper, not betraying the slightest hint of Ulpianus' previous actions, rang beside the Doctor's ears. When he came back to his senses, he found Ulpianus staring at him.  It felt as if those ice-cold eyes had seen into his most embarrassing fantasies.  Blood rushed to the Doctor's temples.  Ulpianus observed his obvious loss of composure and said: "We've dallied here long enough.  We should return to Rhodes Island."

 

"Y-yeah."  The Doctor simply nodded as he hesitantly looked up.

 

Ulpianus offered the Doctor his other hand as he casually stood up.

 

It was a rough and calloused hand, the very embodiment of endurance.

 

Even if their bodies were a little bit closer than before, there was nothing unusual about their physical contact.  Even if his hand lingered in Ulpianus', intertwined with his, there was no significance to it.

 

None at all.  If he kept telling himself that, maybe he would start to believe it.

 

Ulpianus went off, walking up ahead with broad steps.   It is a ridiculous act for a member of Rhodes Island to form any sort of sentimental feelings towards fellow Operators, more so now when the threat of the Oripathy epidemic is continuing to tear Terra apart.  Love that flourishes in a time of war has a deadly sting, shatter, and bleed dry those in its path, an act that some might describe as foolishly human; but looking at the man's broad back, the Doctor knew he had sealed his own doom.

Notes:

me too, doc. i also want to lick the sweat off of ulpipi's face.

Chapter 6: Kjerag's Unflinching Cold

Summary:

The Doctor and Ulpianus are traveling through Kjerag, when Ulpianus offers him his cloak.

Notes:

idk where im really going with this but dw theyll get together soon

Snow and sleet swept across the steep slopes of Kjerag.  Fierce winds lashed at the surrounding rocky terrain.  Here, on top of the world, there was neither refuge nor respite.  Visibility dropped further as an avalanche of powder engulfed everything beneath an impenetrable layer of white.  The freezing touch of nature pressed in all around him, desperate to find even the tiniest chink in his clothing.  

 

The Doctor stood firm against the gale-force squalls, but his determination did little to quell the unbearable discomfort of standing exposed in the sub-zero conditions.  No words were spoken between the pair as they maintained the safety of each other's company.  What needed to be said was done by the exchange of silent glances, and so they pressed on.  Ulpianus strode forwards as if oblivious to his surroundings, his mighty chest shielding the Doctor from the worst of the brunt, allowing him to follow closely in his footprints.  There would come a point where the Doctor's breath became visible with every exhale and his limbs began to falter.  Fortunately, Ulpianus was in the vicinity, and upon realizing the extent of his shivering, he laid his thick cloak over the Doctor's shoulders.

 

He paused to allow the Doctor to catch up before resuming the ascent.  The fabric enveloped his body, providing respite from the bitter chill, and by chance the corner of the cloth covered his face.  A familiar scent of deep sea air greeted the Doctor's nostrils, and in that single moment, the tension in his muscles gave way to a brief swell of comfort.  Ulpianus had allowed him to retain the cloak while he bore the frost and wind alone.  That night the sky was full of twinkling stars, and a crescent moon illuminated the world as the Doctor stared out onto its glittering horizon.

 

The pair reached a cave mouth.  The air felt considerably more pleasant the moment they stepped foot inside its opening.  "Shall I light a fire?"  Ulpianus asks.

 

The Doctor turns to him and nods.

 

With that, Ulpianus fetches wood and makes a pyre at the mouth of the cave.  Orange flames soon flickered merrily, beckoning forth both light and warmth from the shadows.  The Doctor sits close enough to bask in its soothing radiance, still wearing Ulpianus' cloak.  It smelt nice, he realized, the faint odor of sweat and sea-salt tickling his nose.  "I will prepare the rations." 

 

Ulpianus had knelt nearby and pulled out some nuts and dried meat from his bags.  The Doctor watched as he held them above the flames, carefully turning each side until it was warm all the way through.

 

"Here."  Once satisfied, he handed the Doctor a hunk of meat.  It was softer than it looked and melted on the tongue, delivering its rich taste throughout his mouth.  After chewing, the Doctor swallowed, savoring the last of its lingering aftertaste.  Ulpianus observed the other as they chewed, as though mesmerized by his movements.  His eyes were fixed on the Doctor, and they stared into each others' pupils for a second.

 

Eventually, the Doctor finishes eating.  "Is there anything left over?"

 

Ulpianus nods, continuing his meticulous preparation before giving the remainder to the Doctor.  The latter picks them up one at a time, sampling their unique flavors each time.  Every now and then, the Doctor turns and offers some to Ulpianus, but to no avail.  "I will eat later, you're the one who needs to keep your strength," was Ulpianus' response before urging him to carry on, refusing every offer no matter how enticing it looked.

 

When finished, the Doctor picked a spot farther from the camp and sat down, glancing over his shoulder every once and a while to check whether the other was still awake or not, which he seemed to be.

 

Having finally caught his breath, the Doctor feels his mind sinking into slumber once more. His consciousness is fading with each passing second... the crackling flames and occasional gusts of wind becoming more muddled and far-off by the second.

 

He falls asleep like that, wrapped in Ulpianus' cloak.

Notes:

lucky doctor, getting to be wrapped up in ulpipis sweaty cape

Chapter 7: Sea-Foam

Summary:

The Doctor brushes Ulpianus' hair.

Notes:

if i said the things i want to do with ulpianus' hair id scare off all my readers

A request.

 

Rare, intimate, but not wholly unsurprising.

 

Ulpianus simply says, "You seem almost eager for death."

 

What an amusing start.  That's Ulpianus' version of a "yes."  He remembers back when the two of them first met, how every casual threat or criticism earned from him would burn hot with seething anger or be taken as a personal insult.  He seems to have become more open-minded, or at least, less bothered by his nonsense.

 

"Anything for you, Ulpi."  The Doctor states, gently sliding fingers across the back of the Aegir's arm.  He shivers underneath his touch.  With practiced ease, he deftly unties the ponytail keeping his silver hair restrained, before gripping onto it tightly.  A firm, decisive pull backs the Aegir's head.

 

"Less aggressive, Doctor."

 

"Shhh."

 

With his free hand, the Doctor grabs onto the brush.  Unlike many others' personal belongings, this is clean and in great condition.  Ulpianus never understood the point of taking care of it.  The Doctor thought that a brush should be well kept, not worn out or rusty.  The argument made no sense to him, but it seemed to embody the Doctor's strange obsession with cleanliness.

 

The bristles slide out smoothly, soon replacing where fingers once roamed.  Soft tendrils of white cascade over Ulpianus' shoulders, free from its usual confines.  They rest stiffly upon his shoulders.

 

Out of mere habit, he shifts slightly, stretching to alleviate the ache in his neck from being pulled back so tightly.  Even in this situation, he will not yield.

 

The brush moves over his head in an even, practiced stroke, each one soothingly rhythmic, like the steady push and pull of waves in an undisturbed ocean.  A shiver runs down the Aegir's spine with every sweep, and his eyes close.  It takes a few minutes before he realizes how mesmerizing the whole thing is.  Then again, it might have been longer than that.

 

Time is something Ulpianus does not keep track of very well.

 

Every now and then the Doctor's fingers would dig into his hair, weaving through strands and straightening out any tangles.  Then, they would move on to wherever there's new territory and repeat the procedure.  Occasionally a clump of stubborn matted hairs will be worked into smoothness.

 

Throughout all this, the Doctor's fingertips never cease, staying intently focused, even if not visible from the position Ulpianus is in.

 

Eventually his neck grows tired from holding up its own weight, not assisted by the hand grasping at his head from behind, which only pulls harder every time he shifts his weight.  Not enough to hurt, but enough to establish dominance.  Ulpianus acquiesces to the force, leans back into the seat a bit, but makes sure his back remains perfectly perpendicular to the chair's back.

 

Eventually, the brush is no longer necessary.  At last he recognizes the touch of the Doctor's gloves against his skin, though the sensation of it is harder to describe than that of the bristles.  Somehow, it is more...  Personal.  And deliberate.

 

The Doctor's free hand braces itself against the chair, allowing him to lean forward into Ulpianus' scalp as though to touch lips to hair.  But instead, his gloved hands smooth out Ulpianus' disheveled strands of hair, pausing intermittently to thumb through strands of white.  He moves on when satisfied, gently shifting the head forwards a few inches before switching which direction he strokes the hair.  Every motion is unhurried and precise, calculated as to eliminate as much risk as possible to the Aegir's dignity.  Not once do they pause in thought, fingers raking through the tresses with ease and practiced ease.  His hands are gentle, gliding gracefully through each and every strand, and his deft fingertips quickly locate any misplaced strands.  The Doctor releases the brush to glide his bare hand along the length of the strands, palms flat and cupped against the edges, applying firm pressure to each side of the scalp and running down until they reach the tips of his hair.  He does the same thing with his other hand, making a fist and gripping the Aegir's hair by the thick end.

 

Smoothly moving the hairs backward from the edge of their owner's face, he begins to braid, fingers tucking strands of locks into place without ever loosening his grip.  A knot starts forming at the base of Ulpianus' throat.  He swallows once.  Several times.  Yet the feeling stays.  His breathing remains steady however, despite his inner struggle to calm himself from being handled like a piece of prized silver.

 

Each strand of hair is carefully threaded and folded by careful, lithe fingers until they are perfectly aligned.  There is no rush or urgency behind any motion; every move made is deliberate and smooth, as opposed to quick and careless.  The pace is leisurely, giving time for Ulpianus to relax into his thoughts or dwell upon the sensations coming from the Doctor.

 

The Doctor moves along to finish the braid.  With the last strand in place, he tucks the loose ends in so that it sits snugly at the back of the Aegir's head.  He pauses a moment before speaking.  "That should work for now," he says.  "If it starts to come out later, let me know and I'll rework it."

 

Ulpianus nods. "...  Thank you, Doctor."

 

He takes a hold of the braid in one hand, looking it over.  He can feel that it's strong enough to withstand his active lifestyle, though he's also aware that he won't let anyone get close enough to pull it loose.  There's a faint, fluttering sensation somewhere within his chest whenever he examines it, so he keeps his gaze fixed in front.  Perhaps he is unable to put into words what it makes him feel, but for right now?

 

He's content enough to settle.

Notes:

we're getting somewhere!!

Chapter 8: Cold is the Water

Summary:

The Doctor and Ulpianus train together.

Training, the Doctor thought, is more than just training.  It's about communication, cooperation, and trust.  All of these were qualities that helped an operator better understand themselves and others, and thus improve.  So why in the world did it have to involve so much exercise?

 

"One more time, Doctor.”  Ulpianus said, voice steady.

 

The weights rose up again, heavier, higher, longer than before.  His muscles burned, ached with exhaustion, but he held on.  One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  Six…  Seven...  The metal bar groaned with each repetition, and Ulpianus watched carefully for any sign that the Doctor's grip might falter.

 

Eight.  Nine.  Ten.  Eleven.  Twelve…  Sweat dripped down his brow, pooling beneath the collar of his jacket, slicking his neck and shoulders.  Twelve wasn't enough, nor thirteen, fourteen, or fifteen.  At the end of that set, the bar rattled as he slowly lowered it back onto the rack, nearly dropping the whole weight on himself.

 

"That's a wrap for today."

 

The Doctor sat on a nearby bench and began unwrapping his hands, un-clenched knuckles slowly returning to their normal color.  He flexed his fingers, testing for any soreness.

 

"How does it feel?"

 

"Better than yesterday."

 

He stretched his legs and reached for his towel, wiping the sweat from his face and arms.  It had taken several months to get used to the workout regimen Ulpianus insisted on, and he hadn't quite caught on as quickly as he had hoped.  Still, he felt stronger, faster, and sharper than he had ever been.  He'd gotten winded trying to jog at full speed for a few miles, but now?  He could sprint without gasping for air and do double duty during missions.  Even Kal'tsit was impressed with his progress, though she didn't admit to it.

 

And Ulpianus, well, the Doctor wasn't sure how to describe his reaction to his continued success.  Maybe it was pride, maybe it was something else entirely.  Either way, he appreciated having the support of someone who understood what it took to make a person into a fighter.

 

"You've got the basics down," Ulpianus said.  He picked up a water bottle and handed it over to the Doctor, who finished it in a few large gulps.  "Now let's move on to techniques."

 

"That sounds like fun.  Do I finally get to throw some punches?"

 

"Not yet. It's important to know how to handle yourself before learning how to attack."

 

"What about self-defense?  Wouldn't I need to learn that first, before moving on to offense?"

 

"Your ability to defend yourself is dependent on how well you're able to control your body.”

 

"So, what kind of training are we going to do, then?"  The Doctor paused, looking around at the empty gymnasium.  The rest of the staff had already headed back to their quarters for dinner and leisure.  He glanced at him curiously, head tilted, one eyebrow raised.  "Wait a minute. When you say 'training,' you mean..."

 

"Yes.  And you have thirty seconds to prepare for a sparring match."

 

"But-"

 

Before he could object, Ulpianus moved forward and kicked his foot out from under him.  His back hit the floor, sending the air rushing out from his lungs.  He had less than a heartbeat to blink before Ulpianus grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, pressing against his shoulders to keep his face pinned to the floor. The Doctor struggled uselessly.

 

"One...  Two... Three…  Four..."

 

Each count sent more pressure onto his shoulders, until his joints ached from the strain.  With no warning, Ulpianus let go and backed away, allowing the Doctor to roll onto his back, sucking in deep breaths of air.

 

"I'm not exactly an athlete, you know," the Doctor huffed.  "It's pretty unfair of you to kick my leg out from under me so fast."

 

"You must learn to adjust to your opponent's strengths and weaknesses, Doctor.  If you don't, you won't win a fight."

 

"At least give me a chance to stand first."

 

He held his hand out to the Doctor, who sighed heavily and accepted.  A solid tug pulled him to his feet, and the Doctor dusted his clothes off.  He straightened up with his hands on his hips, and turned around to face his instructor.  He was ready for round two.

 

"I think we should start by going over basic striking techniques," Ulpianus suggested.  "If you can get past my defenses, then we'll see about teaching you defensive maneuvers."

 

"Sounds reasonable." He grinned cheekily.  "Want to bet whether I can or not?"

 

"Bet what?"

 

"If I can, you’ll take off your mask.”

 

Ulpianus rolled his eyes.  He hadn't been expecting that.  "What do I get if you don't?"

 

"Nothing.  Except for another chance to beat me into submission?"

 

Ulpianus huffed.  "Fine.  If you land a single punch, I will take off my mask and show you my ugly face."

 

Ulpianus stood across from him, and lifted one fist to protect his face.

 

The Doctor followed suit, copying his stance.  "Just one punch.  That's all I need, right?"

 

"Right."

 

They stared at each other, and the Doctor waited.  And waited.

 

And kept waiting.

 

"Come on, aren't you supposed to come after me?"  The Doctor complained.  "I didn't come here for nothing, you know."

 

"Maybe you shouldn't be so impatient and wait for an opening to appear instead," Ulpianus replied dryly.

 

With a sigh, the Doctor settled down.  After a long pause, he took a slow step forward, fists still raised defensively.

 

As soon as he moved, Ulpianus moved faster than he'd expected.  Before he knew what had happened, he was lying flat on his back with Ulpianus sitting on top of him. He looked completely unfazed.

 

"Good try, Doctor."

 

"Why...  Why the hell do you have to be so fast?!  That wasn't fair!"

 

"I am your teacher, Doctor.  You've already agreed to let me teach you how to fight.”

 

He groaned loudly and tried to push Ulpianus off, but it was no use.  Ulpianus was just too heavy.

 

"Get off of me, please.  You're crushing me."

 

"Hmm..."  Ulpianus considered the request for a second before shrugging and stepping aside, leaving the Doctor free to sit up on his own.

 

"Gods, how does anyone ever manage to beat you?"

 

“They don’t.”

 

After a moment to catch his breath, the Doctor stood up and took a moment to stretch his aching joints before facing his opponent again.  He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, trying to steady his pounding pulse.  He wanted to ask if it would be better if he just stayed on the ground and avoided hurting himself any further.

 

But, when he opened his mouth to say something along those lines, he immediately bit his tongue to prevent himself from embarrassing himself.  The words would've sounded stupid even to his own ears. I wouldn’t have minded if he sat on me longer, anyway.

 

He blinked rapidly in surprise.  Why did he think that?  What kind of thing to think was that, anyway?

 

It seemed the fight left him with some strange, irrational desire.  One that had crept up inside him without his noticing.

 

Something about Ulpianus' powerful physique drew his attention in ways that shouldn't have existed in his mind.  He couldn't deny that he liked having that muscular body pressed against him.  It made his heart pound, made him feel warm and excited.  He felt like his whole body tingled with excitement at the mere thought of it.

 

A strange, alien feeling that threatened to overwhelm him with confusion.  He shook his head vigorously to clear it before turning his attention back to Ulpianus.

 

The man was staring directly at him.  Somehow, he managed to look intimidating even during training.

 

"Sorry.  I just realized that I'm getting distracted," he mumbled sheepishly.

 

"Focus," Ulpianus ordered.  He lowered his head, staring intently into the Doctor's eyes.  "Stay focused.  Keep your guard up."

 

The Doctor nodded, and dropped both hands to his sides.  He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet.  "Ready."

 

"Then, let's try this again."

 

Ulpianus attacked instantly, his movements fluid and practiced.  It was obvious that he knew how to fight; the way he struck was calculated.  His blows landed solidly against the Doctor's shoulder, stomach, ribs, and knees.  With every hit, the Doctor grunted in pain and winced visibly as he struggled to stand his ground.  But each strike made it harder for him to hold on.

 

Ultimately, the Doctor lost his balance and tumbled to the floor, his arms wrapped around his body to keep them from moving.

 

"You really have to get up from the ground sooner.  That way you'll be able to stop my attacks before they land," Ulpianus said after seeing him crumpled helplessly on the floor.  "Here, let's try it one more time."

 

The Doctor groaned and got to his feet.

 

Ulpianus lunged towards him.  This time, instead of attempting to block his blows, the Doctor dodged to the right.  When he moved, Ulpianus instinctively stepped into the attack.  He never expected the Doctor to roll to his feet so quickly and retaliate.  Before the large man could react, a fist crashed into his jaw.

 

His head snapped backward, slamming into the wall.  The impact dazed Ulpianus slightly, causing him to stumble backwards.  His eyes widened slightly as the Doctor grinned smugly.

 

Ulpianus cursed under his breath and kicked the smaller man's shin, sending him staggering forward.  Then, Ulpianus grabbed the front of the Doctor's shirt and pulled hard enough for the Doctor to slam into the nearest wall.

 

With a gasp of pain, the Doctor found himself pinned against a rough surface.  The weight of a man much larger than him crushed him, leaving him gasping for air.  He twisted his hips desperately, trying to push the bigger body away.  A massive hand clutched his throat tightly and squeezed.

 

Well, I did wish for this earlier…

 

It was strange, though; he couldn't decide whether he actually disliked this development or not.  Being trapped between a wall and Ulpianus' rock hard body turned on his primal instincts.  If he let it go too long, it might become a problem.

 

Ulpianus held the Doctor still, staring down at him intently.  "Is this the part where you're gonna kiss me?"  The Doctor joked, flashing a toothy grin.  He looked directly into the taller man's eyes and winked.  "Because that's usually what happens at this point."

 

Ulpianus went silent.  He gazed into the Doctor’s eyes, unmoving, his mind going miles a minute.  Finally, he looked away.

 

"Pity."  The Doctor frowned slightly at the lack of response.  "I think you're handsome.  Just saying."

 

There was a brief pause as they stood facing each other awkwardly.  The room fell silent, save for the sounds of heavy breathing and the occasional cough.

 

Finally, after a moment or two passed, Ulpianus broke the silence.  He cleared his throat loudly and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.  "Let's continue later.  I want you to learn these skills.  It's for your protection, and Rhodes Island's well-being."

 

"Of course.  Thank you..."

 

Another tense silence descended between them.  Neither man moved, or even blinked.  It was as if neither trusted the other to stay still long enough to avoid an unwanted confrontation.

 

After several seconds, Ulpianus sighed heavily.

 

"I'll leave first."  Ulpianus finally let go of the Doctor and left the room.

 

Once the door was closed, the Doctor took a deep breath and rubbed his aching chest.  That last shove really hurt.  He pressed his forehead against the cool metal and waited until his heartbeat slowed down again.

 

How long are we going to keep doing this?

 

A few weeks ago, he noticed that whenever the Doctor entered a room, Ulpianus' pupils dilated, which caused a reaction on his end.

 

Then the subtle glances.  The slow touches.  The small smiles.  The random "accidental" brushes against the Doctor's sides.  The subtle flirting that began to escalate from day to day.  He should've stopped it there, but instead, he decided to allow it to go further, leading to their current situation.

 

That's probably what got them both stuck here now: in a weird relationship neither of them really expected.

 

What the hell am I doing?

 

The Doctor groaned softly.  He was beginning to get frustrated.  He should stop letting himself enjoy this.  No matter what happened tonight, this would definitely end in disaster.  And yet, he felt so helpless against his own desires.  Why couldn't he just let it happen and be done with it already?!

 

Maybe the better question is: what is it about him that keeps drawing him back time after time after time?

 

The Doctor didn't mind being dragged into Ulpianus' affairs.  A night of hot sex sounded tempting and fulfilling, especially when one rarely indulged in such carnal activities.  However, he couldn't stand the uncertainty of never knowing when things will progress and whether this whole thing is merely a waste of time.

 

All the same, the prospect of leaving Ulpianus behind sent waves of sadness washing over him.  Even though they both enjoyed each other's company, the possibility of a disaster hung in the air.

 

"Damn you, Ulpianus," he muttered.  “Why am I feeling this way?"

Notes:

i, too, wish ulpipi would choke me like that

Chapter 9: Merrily Down the Stream (of Alcohol)

Summary:

The Docotr gets drunk and admits some things he shouldn't to Ulpianus.

Notes:

ive never been drunk before so this is just a guess, lol

"Sooo, what brings ya to this joint, Ulpi?"  The Doctor asks sloppily, gesturing towards his friend (?) before stumbling up against the bar next to him with some considerable effort.  He raises an eyebrow at the Doctor's apparent idiocy, clearly judging the fact that yes, he really did go out drinking tonight despite his medical license hanging over his head like a guillotine. Well screw it, fuck the consequences! Who cares if you can't lead tomorrow because you got caught? Fuck those guys anyway!

 

"Doctor."  Ulpianus replies dryly with his characteristic tone of utter disdain.  His expression grows serious, almost angry.  "What the hell are you doing?"

 

"...Trying to get smashed outta my brains?"  The Doctor offers unhelpfully.  Ulpianus rolls his eyes, though whether he means it sarcastically or honestly the Doctor can't say.  Tequila leans over, placing a shot glass in front of each of them and filling it up halfway with some vile brown liquid.

 

The other man frowns and turns away, picking up his own glass.  "How much have you had already?  Maybe you should–"

 

The Doctor downs it in one gulp before Ulpianus can finish speaking.

 

Ulpianus grimaces slightly and shakes his head sadly.

 

"That's it, as your assistant, I'm cutting you off," Ulpianus says suddenly as he grabs onto the doctor's sleeve, pulling him off the stool and dragging him across the room.  The Doctor stares back at him blearily for a few moments before finally understanding what's happening and struggling against Ulpianus' grip weakly.  "Hey, waiiiittt!"

 

After a couple minutes of tugging and fighting and shouting and cursing, Ulpianus manages to get the two of them outside of the R.I. bar.  For a few seconds neither speaks as they stare out at the darkened halls before them; then finally Ulpianus begins walking in the direction of his room, not looking back at the Doctor following closely behind him.

 

"Won't ya listen to me?"  The Doctor whines pathetically.

 

"No, you've clearly had too much to drink," Ulpianus states firmly as he continues heading towards his dorm, ignoring the pleas of his companion completely.  Suddenly the Doctor stops in his tracks and takes hold of Ulpianus' shoulder.

 

"Seriously, wait," he urges once more, spinning Ulpianus around so that they face each other. The taller man furrows his eyebrows at the interruption, looking as though he's about to say something, but stops when he meets the Doctor's eyes.  After a long pause Ulpianus sighs loudly and leans against a nearby wall, crossing his arms impatiently as if daring him to go on.

 

"Fine, say your piece and then go sleep it off."

 

The Doctor smiles broadly.  "There's something I have to tell ya..."  He pauses briefly to collect himself, clearing his throat noisily before continuing.  "Ya see, there's been…  This thing, going on between us lately, and..."

 

Suddenly he loses his composure, choking on the words that come next.  Ulpianus merely watches the display curiously without responding until the Doctor manages to regain his breath enough to go on.

 

"...  It's not like…  I mean…  Well, it doesn't feel right anymore.  It just feels weird, ya know?  Like…  We're more than just friends now.  I guess I wanted it to happen someday, but without having to do anything, ya know?  I need to let you know: I love y–"

 

Before he can finish, Ulpianus pushes away from the wall abruptly and clasps a hand tightly over the Doctor's mouth, silencing him effectively.  His body trembles, and the Doctor wonders briefly whether he's about to punch him or simply walk away altogether.  Slowly Ulpianus draws near to the Doctor; their faces now only inches apart and his eyes glisten fiercely.  With what?  Anger, surprise, or something else?

"I thought we agreed to keep things professional?"

 

His tone suggests a warning, though his expression belies something else entirely.  Confused by the contradictory signals, the Doctor stares blankly at Ulpianus, unsure of how to answer.  The two remain silent for several minutes, neither moving, until finally the tension between them lessens somewhat.  Reluctantly, Ulpianus lowers his gaze and steps back.

 

"Go to sleep, Doctor.  You're drunk."

 

He turns around briskly and starts down the corridor, disappearing into the darkness without a word.  Left alone, the Doctor remains motionless for several moments before sighing heavily and slumping against the nearest wall defeatedly.  After another minute or two he straightens up, stumbling in the opposite direction toward back towards the bar.  Once there he orders another shot and drinks it quickly before falling asleep face-down atop the counter.

 

"Fuuuuckkk..."  He mumbles, still half-conscious and already regretting everything.

Chapter 10: Unerring Waves

Summary:

The consequences to Doctor's actions while drunk.

" I will be resigning as your assistant, effective immediately."

 

That was the first thing Ulpianus said to him as the Doctor entered his office that morning, despite the fact that it was the afternoon, and the two were still reeling from last night's events.  The alcohol had finally worn off, allowing him to think clearly at last, and he immediately understood what needed to happen.

 

"That's..."  The Doctor started, but before he could say anything else, Ulpianus raised a hand and continued.

 

"It's for the best ," the assistant said sternly.  His expression remained impassive even as the Doctor tried desperately to argue against it.  "However, if you wish, I can explain why."

 

The Doctor thought about it for a moment, before nodding slowly.  "Okay."

 

"Very well."  Ulpianus paused, considering his next words carefully.  He cleared his throat and began speaking: "Last night, you told me you loved me."

 

As soon as the words left Ulpianus' lips, the Doctor knew what was coming.  Still, it didn't prevent him from feeling sickened by the realization.  His stomach twisted into knots, threatening to force its contents upwards.

 

"Do you remember that?"  Ulpianus pressed on, looking expectantly at the other man.

 

After a moment of hesitation, the Doctor shook his head.  "I don't," he whispered hoarsely, though his answer came far too quickly.

 

"You should." Ulpianus shot him a harsh glare.  "Because I do.  And if there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I'm not the type to let such a thing slip my mind easily."

 

Again, the Doctor could only nod helplessly, as Ulpianus' expression hardened once more.

 

"Therefore, if you honestly thought you would be able to get away with lying about it..."  He began, letting his voice trail off ominously.

"... It was the truth !" The Doctor finished.

 

Ulpianus sighed heavily.  "That's what I thought you'd say."  His tone remained surprisingly calm, though the Doctor could sense a deep sadness behind it.

 

"So what happens now?"  He asked quietly, unsure whether he actually wanted to hear the answer.

 

"Now?"  Ulpianus repeated after a brief pause.  "We pretend it never happened.  Nothing more."

 

The Doctor stared at his former assistant incredulously, unsure how to respond.  His mind raced frantically, seeking some explanation that would salvage the situation, but found none.  Finally, with one last hopeless look, he managed to croak out an apology.

 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled weakly, barely audible even to his own ears.   "I'm fine with forgetting that ever happened.  But I don't want you to leave ."

 

Ulpianus stood up abruptly, and the Doctor froze.  For the first time since last night, there was real anger burning in the other man's eyes; a fierce rage that made the Doctor flinch backwards instinctively.  For several agonizing moments, they simply stared at each other, neither speaking nor moving.

 

After a while, the anger faded away, and Ulpianus sighed once more.  "Well, it seems we have reached an impasse."  He looked down at the ground, frowning thoughtfully.  "Tell me, what would you suggest doing instead?"

 

"Stick it out," the Doctor responded immediately, forcing himself to meet Ulpianus' gaze unflinchingly.

 

Ulpianus seemed surprised by his determination, but recovered quickly, his voice sounding tired rather than angry.  "And if I refuse?"  He asked softly, as if daring the other man to try convincing him otherwise.

 

The Doctor held the assistant's gaze steadily, silently challenging him to do so.  He felt a surge of desperation clawing at his insides, threatening to overwhelm him at any moment.  If he couldn't convince Ulpianus, then this was truly the end.

 

He couldn't let that happen.

 

He couldn't lose him.

 

With a sudden burst of energy, the Doctor rushed forward and took hold of Ulpianus' shoulders in both hands, squeezing them tightly.  "Please," he begged, his voice trembling slightly.  "I've told you I'm sorry, and I mean it.  I'll do anything, just please...  Don't leave me."

 

They remained standing like that for several minutes, their eyes locked together, neither willing to back down.  At last, though, Ulpianus relented, sighing again.  "Alright," he conceded grudgingly, his tone resigned.  "As long as you promise to never do anything like that ever again.   And consider staying away from the alcohol. "

 

The Doctor nodded vigorously.  "Of course," he assured him.

 

Ulpianus sighed once more, before reluctantly saying, "...  Fine, I will continue to work as your assistant.  Happy?"

 

"Very much so," the Doctor replied enthusiastically.  "Although I wish we could forget last night."

 

Ulpianus glanced away pointedly.  "As do I."

 

With that, they separated once again, their relationship strictly professional, yet t he Doctor still couldn't deny the love he felt.

 

But as long as Ulpianus remained here, the Doctor would be satisfied.  For now, at least.

Chapter 11: Skadi to the Rescue!

Summary:

The Doctor goes to Skadi for help.

It's difficult, at times, to be in love, confess it, and be rejected .  There is a right time for love, but not always the right way to show it .

 

Being alone with his thoughts has brought nothing but pain, both emotional and physical, but there is no outlet save the solitude of night.  He dreams when he can't sleep, imagines the other man's hands on his skin, or that he is caressing him instead, and these things break him to the core.  Though he knows they are just fantasies, those images run through him like sharp knives, cutting through skin and muscle and sinew to leave him raw and bleeding in their wake.

 

He tells himself he deserves it.

 

His feelings are nothing more than an intrusion.  Even though Ulpianus acts as though nothing has changed between them, it makes no difference to the Doctor.  Every day passes as one more day removed from those he longs for most dearly, until he feels he might go mad from longing.  There is nothing else he can think of, nothing he can think to do.

 

The worst part is not being able to talk about it, though.  He needs someone who understands.

 

After several hours of sitting on the couch, staring blankly out the window as the sun slowly begins to rise over the horizon, the Doctor makes up his mind.

 

He'll talk to Skadi about it.  She most certainly will laugh , probably push him, and maybe call him a pervert, but perhaps she'll understand him.

 

If not, then at least he'll have vented some of his frustrations.

 

After waiting until evening when he is sure the others will all be asleep, he slips quietly from his room and creeps into the hallway beyond.

 

Skadi's room is across the hall from his, and he knocks gently on the door.  A few seconds pass, before the lock clicks and Skadi appears wearing a curious expression as she opens the door a crack.  "...  Doctor?"

 

"Hey, Skadi...  Can I come in?"

 

She stares at him blankly, confusion evident upon her face.  But after another pause, she nods, and motions for him to enter.  He steps inside, and sits down on the edge of her bed.  She shuts the door behind him.

 

The Doctor clears his throat nervously.  "Sorry to bother you so late..."

 

She tilts her head to one side, looking quizzically at him.

 

"I wanted to talk," he explains haltingly.

 

She continues to stare.  It seems like an eternity before she finally replies, but when she does, she asks, "Is there something bothering you , Doctor?   Want to talk it out over drinks?"

 

The Doctor waves his hands in a refusal.  "No, no, I'm not supposed to be drinking anymore.  There was an, ah, incident with Ulpianus..."

 

He trails off when he notices Skadi giggling.

 

She stops giggling after a moment.  "Haha, okay.  But seriously, what did happen with you two?"

 

"Um...  Nothing special.  He just got upset because I told him something I shouldn't have."

 

Skadi dons a Cheshire grin. " Aaaaaand what was that?"

 

The Doctor looks to the floor, as his face flushes bright red.  "I told him that I love him."

 

There's another long silence before she responds.  "Huh.  Good for you!  It was getting kind of obvious.  Like, painfully so."

 

He winces slightly, and the Doctor feels his heart drop.  "So you knew all along, huh?"

 

Skadi sits down beside him on the bed and gently puts her arm around his shoulders in a comforting gesture.  " Everyone does, Doctor."

 

"... Everyone do esn't know, right?"  He asks, panic beginning to edge into his voice.  "They're not...  Laughing at me behind my back?"

 

She laughs again, but softer this time.  "No, nobody's laughing at you.  We've all seen it, and honestly it's cute.  We'd probably encourage you more if he wasn't ... "  She makes some hand gestures.   "Y'know."

 

The Doctor swallows hard.  "If he wasn't a giant asshole ?"

 

"Pretty much," she says with a shrug.

 

The Doctor lets out a deep sigh, leaning back against the wall.  "Of course."  He runs a hand over his face, taking a moment to collect himself.  Then he shakes his head.

 

"Well, at least you're supportive, Skadi."

 

She smiles brightly.  "I'm always cheering on y our team!  And...   As a member of the Abyssal Hunters, Ulpi needs some lovin'.  Like, badly. " 

 

The Doctor can't suppress the amused snort that escapes his nose, and immediately regrets it.  "Right.  L-love.  Absolutely," he mutters quietly, his face burning red.

 

Skadi notices, and reaches over to pat his shoulder reassuringly.  "Don't worry, Doctor.  Just keep trying.  You might just be surprised ."

 

The Doctor can't help but hope that she's right.

 

"Anyway, Doctor, thanks for visiting.  I should probably head back to bed."

 

The Doctor rubs his hands together anxiously, before nodding once.  "Yeah, thanks Skadi.  Sorry to keep you up," he says hurriedly, getting to his feet.  "Er, g-goodnight."

 

Skadi waves a hand.  "Night," she replies casually, before toppling back into her bed and under the covers.

 

"Goodnight!"  The Doctor calls out as he exits the room, closing the door behind him.  After a few moments, he makes his way back to his room, climbing underneath the covers of his own bed, he stares up at the ceiling above.

 

His heart is racing wildly and his mind is filled with images of Ulpianus' stern features, as well as the sensation of his rough fingertips.

 

It would be too late.  The dream comes more readily than normal.

 

And that night, he dreams of Ulpianus once again.

Chapter 12: Dreaming

Summary:

The Doctor has a dream.

Notes:

rating change woooo

The Doctor finds himself lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling above him. There is no noise save for the steady beating of his heart and the slow, steady sound of his breathing.

 

Then, suddenly, Ulpianus appears and sits down beside him. The Doctor feels his body go rigid as a wave of fear sweeps through him.

 

"Do you desire me, Doctor?"  Ulpianus asks quietly, placing his hands on the Doctor's shoulders.

 

"... Yes," the Doctor replies automatically, his voice sounding strangely distorted and far away.

 

"Then come here, and I'll take care of you," Ulpianus commands him, pressing his masked lips to the Doctor's neck.

 

The Doctor closes his eyes tightly, trying desperately to control the torrent of emotions inside him.  But he can't resist; he wants to feel Ulpianus' touch, to let him take away his pain and desire.  Slowly, hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Ulpianus' waist, pulling him close.  He inhales deeply as he breathes in the scent of the Hunter's body, savoring the rich aroma of the sea and salt that fills his nostrils.

 

T he Doctor squeezes his eyes shut tighter, trying to block out the pleasure that is overwhelming him.  But still his body betrays him; he can feel his erection growing, and he moans softly in response.  The sound seems to have an effect on Ulpianus as well, for the Hunter soon growls in frustration.

 

The Doctor senses movement in front of him, and he opens his eyes to see Ulpianus kneeling between his legs, looming over him.  With a low growl, he pins the Doctor's wrists together.

 

Then, with a sudden rush, the Hunter is on top of him, pressing his hardness against the Doctor's throbbing member.  The Doctor groans loudly, arching his back as he feels the length of the Hunter's cock sliding along his shaft.  Ulpianus begins thrusting slowly, teasingly, and the Doctor feels his entire body begin to tremble.

 

He lets out a long moan and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to control himself, but he cannot.  The pleasure is simply too intense, and his mind begins to cloud as the pleasure builds.  Finally, he screams, bucking his hips wildly, and cum shoots from his cock , splattering his chest and stomach.

 

The Doctor opens his eyes, staring into the dim darkness of his room, the lamp on the far side still illuminating a wide circle around him, and Ulpianus was never really here.   Of course he wasn't.  It was nothing but a figment of the Doctor's imagination.  A dream.  The Doctor rolls to the side, his breath heavy, his hands shaking, and his face flushed.  Yet again, the Hunter has haunted him.  Another visitation.  Another night of torment, and solitude.

 

The memory of the dream remains vividly clear for a long time, long after he has fallen back to sleep.

Chapter 13: Siracusan Day

Summary:

The Doctor invites Ulpianus to the canteen again.

"Hey, Ulpi!  Will you...  Have dinner with me?"

 

"..."  He pauses, hands by his side and fingers clasped tightly together.  "I have already taken my leave."

 

A refusal; short and cold.  The Doctor bite down on his inner cheek.  "Come on.  It's just some pasta from the cafeteria, it's Siracusan day!"

 

He opens the door slightly wider, half of his profile revealing itself and the chilling view of his masked jawline.  "May I inquire as to the occasion?"

 

"..."  The Doctor stumbles for words, blotting their ends together in a hopeless jumble of sounds.  "I- uhm...  You know.  Just-" his last fib escapes in a mere wisp, "As thanks.  For...  All that you do."  He forces the last few words out awkwardly, his mouth going dry as he does

.

Ulpianus's face twitches ever so slightly at that, his eye seeming to narrow suspiciously, or maybe he is reacting only with annoyance at the Doctor's evasiveness.

 

"..."  The silence persists for nearly an entire minute as he does nothing but stare at the Doctor.

 

The Doctor grips tightly the fabric of his shirt, waiting for the excruciating minutes to pass. At least until Ulpianus finally replies.

 

"Very well."

 

His reply is terse, cold, and utterly displeased, but he manages to say the words regardless.

 

"..."

 

The Doctor smiles weakly.  His heart beats a million miles per minute, even while Ulpianus stands quietly before him.  It takes every bit of his remaining courage not to turn away in embarrassment, especially when he sees the Hunter's head tilt at him.

 

They stand there, silently staring, and it feels like an eternity passes before either one moves.

 

Then Ulpianus takes a step forward.  A single step.

 

"Let us go."

 

The Doctor nods numbly, watching as Ulpianus walks through the doorway, leading the way down the hall.  He follows after him, trailing just behind.  When Ulpianus pauses, the Doctor stops as well, looking ahead at nothing in particular.  After a moment, Ulpianus starts walking again, his pace brisk, and the Doctor follows right alongside him.

 

The pair travel through the quiet hallways of the facility, their boots clicking against the polished white marble. It doesn't take long before they reach the cafeteria.

 

The room is mostly deserted, with only a few other soldiers sitting at the far end of the tables. But there are two plates of pasta and a bottle of wine left at an empty seat.

 

Thanks, Skadi!

 

"Go ahead and sit," he says nervously.

 

The Hunter's head turns toward him; then he glances over at the table, takes a moment to look at the pasta, and walks over and sits down.  He picks up a fork, but does not begin eating.

 

The Doctor looks at him quizzically.  "Nobody else is here.  I really don't mind if you take off your mask, you know."

 

"... As you wish."

 

The two men remained still for a few moments before Ulpianus tentatively removed the mask, revealing a grotesque horror below.  Sharp teeth line his jaw, their white, ragged tips exposed by his thin lips, as if they are fighting to keep the lower parts of his face together.  His high cheekbones stand out starkly against the pale skin of his face, contorted by lines of black-blue scales and eerie navy veins that branch out like lightning across his face.  "This is me. Are you sure you're fine with this?  If you've lost your appetite, I will not be offended."  He spoke solemnly, gaze stoic and unmoving.

 

The Doctor said nothing, instead giving a polite nod as he sat beside him.  He didn't see a terrifying monster.  The only thing that the Doctor could see was the man who he loved.  So he smiled and grabbed his cutlery.  "Let's eat."

 

Ulpianus slowly nodded, and picked up his own fork, cutting into the sauce-covered plate of pasta before him.  The Doctor watched him closely, while he ate himself.

 

Ulpianus took his time, but never once said anything about the quality of his food.  He seemed focused on eating, silently sampling each component of his meal, and putting his utensils aside when he finished.

 

Finally, after a few bites of his own pasta, the Doctor worked up his nerve enough to ask, "So what do you think?"

 

"..."  Ulpianus looked back at him.  His brow arched over an intense gaze.  "Are you asking me for a judgment?"

 

"Yeah, what did you think of the food?"  He replied cheerfully.

 

Ulpianus tilted his head ever so slightly.  The Doctor stared directly into his intense eyes, and with bated breath awaited his reply.  "It was..."  He murmured, his voice rumbling lowly as he drawled the word out, "...  Good."

 

"That's great."  The Doctor gave a wide, dazzling grin.

 

Ulpianus observed him intently.  After a long, uncomfortable pause, he finally spoke again, "Is there something on your mind?"

 

The Doctor blinked, caught off guard by the question.  He opened and closed his mouth several times before answering, "Uh, not really, it's just..."

 

"You are an incredibly inarticulate person, Doctor."

 

"I've been told that once or twice."  The Doctor offered a small, rueful smile.

 

"Then let me rephrase my earlier question.  What is it exactly that you would like to discuss with me here?"  He replied bluntly, coldly, sounding almost agitated by his own interest.

 

"Er..."  The Doctor frowned slightly.  "I dunno, I just...  Wanted to see how you're doing."

 

Ulpianus scoffed, his lips curving.  "Your concern is misplaced."

"...  Why do you say that?"

 

"Because I don't need it."

 

The Doctor furrowed his brows.  "But I want to give it."

 

"I have no need for sympathy."  His lips grew sharper.

 

"It's not sympathy.  I genuinely care about you," The Doctor protested.

 

"..." The Hunter's sneer fell into a flat line.

 

"Is that...  So."  He utters lowly.

 

Without saying another word, he raised his chin, expression sharp and serious.  He then lowered it, looking away.  That motion might have been considered shy, even, but with Ulpianus, the Doctor couldn't imagine it.  Not when those fiery red eyes danced like flames in the darkness.

 

"Yes," The Doctor's voice cracked, and Ulpianus remained silent.  There was no more pasta left on his plate; he'd finished eating.  "H-Have some dessert.  They actually bought Lateran ice cream and cake this time."  The Doctor stands up hurriedly, hoping to salvage the awkward mood, and scoots his chair a little too loudly away from Ulpianus, making it screech at him.

 

However, Ulpianus seems oblivious to the clumsy interaction.  He just pushes the tray with their plates aside, picks up the cake in his gloved hand and starts eating it.  He takes his sweet, sweet time, as if not in a hurry to leave, and the Doctor realizes how stupid he was for wanting to prolong this by proposing dessert.

 

He watches as Ulpianus licks at the chocolate frosting for a while. That would have been weird, but the frosting is so thick and dark.  A hint of a purple tongue darts out to lick the frosting from his torn lips.  Oh.  Oh.   What the hell is he thinking?

 

And then, Ulpianus meets his eye, tilts his head slightly, and wordlessly pushes the plate closer.

 

The Doctor instinctively grabs a spoonful, looks at the red raspberry sauce mixed in with the fudge, and stares straight ahead, turning redder than the mixed berry flavored spread on his fork.

 

"Eat," the Hunter orders in that rumbling, growl of a voice, and the Doctor puts the cake in his mouth before he can think too hard about that voice.  It's delicious.  Or maybe he's just too flustered by the way Ulpianus's red eyes are following his fork as he eats to really notice the taste.  The cake itself is chocolatey, moist, and spongy, and it dissolves beautifully in his mouth as he swallows.  The ice cream is cold and melts slightly on contact with his tongue.  It does taste good, even though his taste buds are numb from the heat of the blush that had spread all the way down to his neck at this point.  The Doctor shifts uncomfortably in his seat, tries to sit straighter, tries to make himself look better, more put-together.  Like the competent doctor he is.  He's sure he's doing a good job of it.  He's perfectly composed.

 

Unfortunately for him, Ulpianus keeps staring at him from across the table, eyes boring right through him.  The Doctor tries to ignore him and eat, forcing down each bite like a pill swallowed without water.  After a few bites he finally pauses, letting out a soft sigh as he sits back, looking anywhere except at Ulpianus.  "I, er- um."

 

The Doctor clears his throat awkwardly, lowering his head to concentrate solely on his plate.  His jaw was working furiously as he chewed, unsure how else to fill the silence.

 

This is nice.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the Hunter broke the silence.

 

"Why do you insist on going out of your way for me?"  He inquired, his voice deep and gravelly yet still somehow soft.

 

"B-because."  The Doctor ducked his head as if trying to hide his face from the older man, not wanting him to see his blush.  "I've already told you I love you," he stammered, squeezing his eyes shut.  "A lot."

 

"Love me?"  He scoffed.  "People do not love monsters like me, Doctor.  Do not be naïve."

 

The Doctor shook his head stubbornly.  "You're not a monster, Ulpianus."  He reached across the table to gently lay a hand on his arm, though he froze instantly when the Hunter recoiled, tucking the limb out of sight beneath the table.

 

"Save your pity.  Nothing can change what I have become."  His tone had become harsh, almost angry.  The Doctor tried not to flinch as his body tensed.

 

"Well..."  He started to respond but quickly trailed off.  His mind raced as he searched for the right words to convince the other that he was wrong.  What could he possibly say that would prove how strongly he felt?

 

With trembling fingers, the Doctor reached forward, gently taking hold of the Hunter's gloved hand.  He didn't move or speak.  Did he not mind?  Perhaps he had decided to allow such a bold display of affection.  "All I know is how much it pains me to hear you speak about yourself like that."  The younger man began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care if your skin glowed in the dark.  Really."

 

"...  Please, stop this," he uttered quietly, shutting his eyes tightly and turning away from the Doctor.  His entire frame seemed tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap.  Yet there was a tremor that ran through him that spoke of hesitance, vulnerability...  He seemed scared.

 

"You're beautiful to me."

 

Ulpianus's eyes widened, turning his head to look back at the Doctor.  He seemed confused by the remark, his brows furrowed, and lips pursed.  "Even like this?"  He asked in disbelief, gesturing towards his broken, scaled, scarred and deformed body.

 

The Doctor nodded, trying to convey how genuine he was with his honest expression.  He gripped the Hunter's hand tightly, almost pleadingly, willing him to understand.  "Especially like this."

 

They remained like that for several minutes, neither speaking nor moving, simply gazing into each other's eyes.  It was hard to resist the urge to embrace him, to kiss him and tell him how much he adored him...  But that would be far too quick.  No matter how much he ached to express himself, the Doctor kept his desires to himself.

 

Ulpianus gave his head a slight shake, breaking their silent stand-off.  "This is foolish," he muttered.  He began to pull his hand away from the younger man's grip.

 

"Ulpianus, please–"

 

"Enough, Doctor," he growled as he snatched his arm back.  A dark scowl marred his features, and he seemed even more on edge than normal.

 

"Why won't you let me tell you that I love you?"

 

"Because I cannot accept such feelings.  They are not relevant to what I am."

 

"They're relevant to me."

 

"Then you are delusional."  His crimson eyes flashed dangerously.  "There is no room for love here, Doctor," the Hunter snapped impatiently, cutting off any further protest.  "What did I tell you about being professional?"

 

"I–"

 

"You're young, you will meet someone else," he stated curtly.  He didn't raise his voice, but his words came out clipped, like nails being hammered into wood.  "And they will appreciate your company more than I ever could.  Do yourself a favor and give up this pointless endeavor."

 

With that he pushed himself up from the table and turned towards the exit.  But before he had taken more than a step towards the door, the Doctor had jumped up from his seat and grabbed him.

 

His arms wrapped tightly around the other man's chest and upper torso, pulling him flush against the younger man's body.  He didn't care that he was touching him, he just had to convince Ulpianus to listen to his feelings.

 

"Don't leave."  He begged, his voice cracking slightly from the intensity of it all.  His eyes were wide, and he knew his face must've looked pitiful as he gazed pleadingly at the older man.  "I won't let go until you acknowledge my feelings," he stated firmly, despite the quivering his heart threatened to start up again.

 

The Hunter glared down at him silently, his body unnaturally stiff as if his every muscle was wound taut.

 

"Why are you so set on hurting yourself like this?"  He demanded, his deep, rumbling voice barely above a whisper.  He cocked his head to the side, his expression perplexed.  "Do you think you will somehow 'win' over me if you refuse to give up?"

 

"Yes!  That's what I've been saying this whole time," he exclaimed, exasperatedly.  "You don't understand, do you?"

 

The older man simply stared down at him, his expression incredulous.  "You really think you can tame a creature like me?"

 

The Doctor chewed on his bottom lip, feeling slightly embarrassed by his bold confession, and yet he maintained eye contact.  "Yes."

 

His eyes narrowed skeptically, his brow furrowed slightly.  "That is not how these things work.  You can't just go around claiming ownership of people, Doctor."

 

"Well, that's how it works for me!"  He stated stubbornly.

 

Ulpianus sighed heavily, apparently at a loss for words.  He blinked once, twice.  "You really are as daft as you seem."  He remarked, shaking his head slightly.  "You're ridiculous," he declared quietly, though there was something about his tone, something soft and gentle that seemed to undermine the way he phrased it.

 

The Doctor blushed bright red and ducked his head.  He made no effort to hide his fond smile, however.  After all, no matter how much Ulpianus protested, he had yet to throw him off or leave, which meant he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea.  That wasn't nothing. It wasn't much, but it meant a lot to the Doctor.

 

The pair stood like that for some time before Ulpianus finally pulled away, albeit with some reluctance. He gave the young doctor one last sharp look before retreating towards the exit.  Before he left, he paused and looked back, cocking an eyebrow.  "Just... Please refrain from shouting such foolish things in public, Doctor.  The other Abyssal Hunters would never take me seriously again," he said, and though his expression remained neutral, there was a hint of amusement in his voice that betrayed his amusement.  He pulled his mask back on and left without another word.

 

The Doctor let out a shaky breath, shaking the lingering sensation of the other man's body on his own as he shakily sunk back into his seat.  What the hell had happened just now?  Not only did Ulpianus not turn down his advances, but he even let him touch him!  That's the first time he'd gotten that close to him in over a month, if not longer!  And he hadn't even reacted adversely!

 

He covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath.  His cheeks were flushed scarlet, burning so hot they were practically glowing as bright as Ulpianus’ red eyes.  This was getting ridiculous, he wasn't some teenager with their first crush.  They've known each other for months and he's never felt this flustered before!

 

A pang of sorrow shot through him as he recalled what had just happened.  Did that mean Ulpianus reciprocated his feelings in some way?  He wasn't an expert on matters of the heart but he felt fairly certain what was going on here was the beginnings of a budding romance.  They've been dancing around their feelings for quite some time now, but that had been the breaking point; the first true intimacy they've shared.

 

In fact, that was probably the reason why he had accepted such open displays of affection. There had been plenty of opportunities where he could have just pushed him away or stopped him completely...  Yet instead he didn't.  He allowed the doctor to embrace him, and given his generally high praise on personal boundaries, that's practically the equivalent to expressing romantic interest.

 

At least, that's what the Doctor assumed.

Chapter 14: Lingering

Summary:

The Doctor is caught in an ambush.

Notes:

progress ;)

They were in the middle of an ambush.  The Doctor had his back pressed against a large tree trunk while bullets whizzed overhead, searching for a way out.

 

It wasn't going well.

 

Another bullet hit the ground mere inches away from him causing the dirt to kick up and hit his face, blinding him momentarily.  He cursed under his breath and wiped his eyes as best he could before continuing.  The wind shifted suddenly, bringing with it the telltale signs of danger: heavy footsteps, heavy breathing, and the crack of wood breaking beneath weighty blows. Oh fuck.   He took a couple steps back, preparing himself as best he could for the soldier in front of him.  Their huge, hulking form appeared in the shadows.

 

Instantly the soldier charged at him, their footfalls thundering across the ground.  They slammed straight into his chest with a bone-crushing force, knocking him backwards into the tree behind him with a grunt.  He slid down, head cracking against its base, and his vision blurred.  He tried desperately to stay conscious but he lost control of his body.  He fell limply to the ground.  Was he bleeding?  He couldn't tell.  There was pain coming from somewhere but he couldn't tell where.  He tried to focus his mind but it was impossible.

 

He thought he heard someone calling his name but couldn't make out anything clearly.  Something else struck him, hitting him hard in the stomach and knocking him back.  The taste of blood filled his mouth, flooding into his mouth and throat, leaving him unable to draw any air.  He gasped weakly, trying to breathe, but he just coughed and sputtered instead.

 

Another blow connected, this time lower, and he groaned in agony.

 

Suddenly something hard and metal struck his temple and the world went black.

 

—

 

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back with someone hovering over him, trying desperately to pull him back into consciousness.

 

He blinked, unable to process what was happening at first.  He was still in the forest.  Blood was leaking steadily from his side.  It was only when his senses finally came back to him, he realized the soldiers were gone and that Ulpianus was kneeling beside him.

 

"Ulpianus," he croaked, his throat tight from disuse, his mouth dry, his whole body sore and trembling.

 

The Hunter seemed surprised, as if he didn't expect him to be able to speak.  "You're alive," he stated in disbelief.

 

"Did we- are the targets-?"

 

"Killed," the Hunter confirmed.

 

The doctor's brow furrowed.  "How did-"

 

"I eliminated them," he cut in impatiently, confirming his earlier assumption.  "We have to get you to the medical tent before the enemy returns."

 

"Before I die," the Doctor wheezes out, his mind a whirlwind of pain and blinking in and out of darkness, "Can you kiss me?"

 

"What?"  Ulpianus sounded genuinely baffled.  "You are not going to die.  I will make sure of that."

 

"Humor me," he begged.

 

"No."

 

"Please?"  He pleaded weakly, eyes starting to flutter shut, too exhausted to fight the inevitable sleep tugging him under.

 

"Fine," the Hunter grunted after a moment, "You’re ridiculous."

 

He hastily undid his mask, leaned in and pressed his lips to the other man's.  After pulling away, the Hunter pulled the shorter man into his lap and cradled him gently.

 

"Just stay with me," he whispered.  His voice was low, tender, almost vulnerable.  "Stay awake."

 

The Doctor nodded.  There was no reply.  Instead, Ulpianus lifted him, his grip careful and firm. He did not say anything.  He only carried him to safety, away from the carnage and the sounds of violence.

 

The doctor shuddered weakly.  The ache in his chest was spreading throughout his body.  Each breath caused pain to radiate through him.  His heart rate was elevated, the dizziness fading.  In spite of this, he could feel warmth blossoming within him.  It radiated outward, encompassing every cell.  He felt safe.  Warm.  Comforted.  He loved Ulpianus.  It was a simple fact.  It was just part of who he was.  He wanted to spend the rest of his life with him.

 

But for now, he'd settle with living long enough to reach safety.  If he could only survive the journey back to the medical tent, maybe there was a chance he'd live to see tomorrow.  At the very least, he hoped he'd at least have the strength to smile and kiss him once more.

 

"Thank you," he whispered quietly, grateful for his presence.

 

Ulpianus did not reply.  He did not smile or even look at him.  He simply held him securely in his arms and continued to carry him back to the medical camp.

 

Although his heart was racing and he struggled to maintain his breathing, he couldn't help but feel utterly content, safe, and loved.  His heart beat rapidly, sending waves of joy coursing through him.  "Ulpianus..."  He was getting drunk off this feeling, he decided.  He'd gladly die again to experience this euphoria one more time, over and over again for eternity.

 

"Do not speak, Doctor," the Hunter commanded sternly.  "Save your strength.  Focus on staying conscious."

 

"Okay," the Doctor sighed, his eyelids drooping.  The pain was becoming harder to ignore, yet it also served to distract him from his overwhelming sense of adoration for his assistant.

 

All too quickly, however, the effects of his injuries wore off and pain returned with a vengeance.  His head spun wildly, his entire body ached.  The throbbing had intensified and now was causing him to feel nauseous, but he refused to let it overtake him.  He needed to stay calm.

 

His heart rate sped up and his breath quickened.  It became increasingly difficult to keep from fainting.  He gritted his teeth, willing himself to endure, unwilling to die before making it out alive.

 

Blood had soaked through his entire outfit and now was starting to dry.  By the time the doctor was halfway through the camp, halfway to salvation, the ache in his chest was overwhelming.  He winced, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain, desperate not to pass out.

 

"Hold on," Ulpianus murmured, sensing the Doctor's distress.  "I am almost there."

 

"Sorry," he grunted, eyes fluttering closed.  "I won't be able to-"

 

" We are almost there," Ulpianus assured him.

 

The words sounded distant and muffled, echoing from far away.  They sounded less like real words and more like noises coming from far away.  Everything was blurred.  He could barely think straight.  Yet, somehow, he managed to stay awake as they approached their destination.

 

"Put him there!"  Someone shouted urgently.  "Quickly!"

 

Voices buzzed around him and sounds of the outside world floated towards him, but he couldn't grasp anything.  His breathing quickened, the pounding in his head increased, the wound on his torso burned.  As a cold hand touched his face, he whimpered.  And then he passed out, drifting into unconsciousness…

 

…  But not for long.

 

His eyes fluttered open and he found himself lying in a bed, surrounded by medics.  He glanced around, momentarily confused, but quickly spotted Ulpianus standing off to the side.

 

The Hunter watched him intently, silently observing as the doctors moved about him.  After several minutes passed without incident, the Hunter spoke, "You're lucky to be alive."

 

"Thank you," he replied gratefully.

 

"I did not have much choice.  As your assistant, I couldn't leave you to die."

 

"Even after what I said to you?"

 

Ulpianus was silent for a long time, his expression unreadable.  Finally, he stepped forward and pulled the Doctor's hand gently into his own.  "Perhaps," he began softly, "Your request was not as unexpected as you thought."

 

"Then-"

 

The Hunter silenced him with a soft, lingering kiss, when none of the medics were looking.  "Just get better."

 

Then, he left the tent without a word.

 

The Doctor ran his fingers over his lips, reliving the experience.  While the wound still hurt, the memory soothed him.  Whatever happened now, he still had Ulpianus at his side.

Chapter 15: Recovering

Summary:

Ulpianus meets with a recovering Doctor.

It wasn't until late in the afternoon that Ulpianus was finally able to see him.  By then the Doctor was sitting up in bed reading, his injuries freshly bandaged and dressing changed.  He looked up at him and smiled slightly, raising one eyebrow quizzically.  "I thought you had forgotten about me."

 

"Never."  The Hunter stepped closer, eyes meeting his directly.  "How are you feeling?"

 

The Doctor shrugged.  "I'll manage."

 

"Have you been taking the medication the doctors gave you?"  Ulpianus asked.  "Because you shouldn't really be moving so soon after an injury."

 

The doctor rolled his eyes playfully.  "Alright, I'll try to avoid doing anything too strenuous."

 

The Hunter's mouth quirked at the corner, the tiniest trace of a smile under his mask .  "See that you do."

 

Silence fell between them, an uncomfortable silence. Both waited for the other to speak first, neither quite sure how to break the ice.  Eventually, it was Ulpianus who broke the silence.

 

"So, you and I," he began tentatively.

 

"Yes?"  The Doctor prompted him, curiously.

 

The Hunter cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing anywhere except at him.  "I need to know...  I have to be certain that I'm correct.  Tell me, are you really attracted to me?"

 

"Why wouldn't I be?"  The Doctor grinned wryly, his eyes twinkling mischievously.  "Sure, you're not exactly pretty under that mask, but you've got that whole tall , dark , and mysterious vibe going on.  Plus, I doubt I'd have survived this long if it hadn't been for you."

 

"So I'm not hideous?"  He asked, sounding more hopeful than doubtful.

 

"No."  The Doctor looked at him earnestly.  "No, I think you're attractive.  More so than most men, at least."

 

"Why?"  The Hunter wondered aloud, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

 

"How should I know?"  He shrugged.  "Do you ever question why you're attracted to men?"

 

"Fair point," Ulpianus grunted, huffing out a sigh.

 

"So I wasn't wrong in assuming you're also attracted to me?"  The Doctor probed cautiously.  "Because if I misunderstood-"

 

"You weren't," the Hunter said quickly.  "I mean...  I've never felt anything like this before.  But yes.  Yes, I'm attracted to you."

 

A wide grin spread across the Doctor's lips.  "Really?"  He grinned excitedly.

 

Ulpianus stared at him, expression impassive.

 

"Come closer," the Doctor instructed him gently.  "Take off your mask, sit down, and look at me."

 

Hesitantly, the Hunter stepped toward him, his eyes never leaving his.  "I shouldn't...  This isn't a good idea."

 

"Nonsense," he replied, smiling widely.  "We're both adults.  I won't tell if you won't."

 

The Hunter chuckled nervously.  " ... Okay."  Slowly, carefully, he sat down on the edge of the bed.  He glanced down nervously, unsure where to look or what to say.

 

"Relax, Ulpianus.  Just take your mask off."

 

He reached up and slowly began removing it.  As he did so, he seemed almost hesitant, as though worried of what the Doctor's reaction might be.  But when his face was revealed, the Doctor simply smiled reassuringly.

 

"There.  Isn't that better?"  He murmured encouragingly.

 

"You haven't run screaming," the Hunter joked half-heartedly, his tone more self-deprecating than amusing.

 

"No, I haven't."  He shifted, reaching up to cup his chin, watching as a light blush stained his cheeks.  "You're handsome."

 

"Don't tease me," the Hunter grunted out , closing his eyes and leaning into his touch.

 

"It's not teasing if I mean it."  He gazed deeply into his dark crimson eyes, admiring the thick lashes, high cheekbones, and chiseled jawline.  "You're beautiful, Ulpianus.  Do you really not know that?"

 

Ulpianus' ears turned a red hue.  "I'm not."

 

"Yes, you are.  And now you're mine," the Doctor purred possessively, running a finger lightly down the side of his neck.

 

Slowly, he leaned closer, bringing their faces together so that their lips were almost touching.  His breath tickled against Ulpianus' chin, causing him to shiver slightly.

 

"Do you want to kiss me again?"  The Doctor murmured, brushing his lips teasingly over his.

 

"Yes," he gasped, closing the distance and tasting him once more.

 

His mouth opened hungrily, his tongue s sliding deep into the Doctor's throat.  It had been so long since he had enjoyed anyone's mouth...

 

The Doctor let out a surprised moan, wrapping his arms around the Hunter's back and pressing their chests together.  His fingers trailed through the white hair on his head, stroking him lovingly.  The Hunter hummed softly, relaxing into his touch.  His own hand found its way to the back of the Doctor's head, holding him steady while he explored every inch of his mouth with his tongues.  It felt divine.  It had been so long since the Hunter had permitted himself the enjoyment of such pleasures...

 

"We should stop," he panted, breaking apart.  "Someone will hear..."

 

"Let them hear," the Doctor replied breathlessly, a slight flush to his cheeks.

 

"But..."

 

"I'm done playing the shy virgin," he muttered.  "Unless...  Is that what you're looking for?"

 

The Hunter's brow furrowed.  "What?"

 

"Do you want me to act like I'm some blushing maiden who's never been touched by a man?"  He asked, laughing at the ridiculousness of such a scenario.  "Is that what gets you going?"

 

"No," the Hunter murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of the Doctor's cheek.  "Just the opposite actually...  That you would allow me to touch you at all."

 

The Doctor shook his head fondly and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of the Hunter's mouth.  "You worry too much."

 

"Perhaps."  The Hunter reluctantly pulled away, looking thoughtful.  "I need to take my leave.  You're injured, we shouldn't take this further."

 

"Aw.  But alright," the Doctor nodded.  "Be safe."

 

With a final smile, he climbed out of the bed and hurriedly donned his mask again.  "Rest," he instructed firmly.  "When you are well enough, I will find you again.  Then I will satisfy our shared curiosity."

 

The Doctor hummed in interest, watching as the Hunter strode out of the tent, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  As he drifted off to sleep, a smile curved his lips.  It seemed the dynamic of their relationship had shifted and improved again, and he found himself more drawn to him than ever before.  Not just because he was hot as hell, but because...  Ulpianus just kept showing up for him.  And yeah, maybe it wasn't the smartest decision, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and, apparently, his heart wanted a man whom he didn't entirely understand...  One, who at the very least, cared about him, and had committed multiple offences and broken many laws for him...

Chapter 16: Low Tide

Summary:

The Doctor and Ulpianus get intimate.

Notes:

finaly

The Doctor had long since recovered from the wounds he obtained some time ago.  Soon enough, and true to his word, Ulpianus comes knocking at his door.

 

“Doctor, I’ve studied.  I hope you find what I’ve learned to be acceptable.”

 

“Studied?  What?”

 

“Coitus with another man.”

 

If the Doctor was drinking, he surely would've spit it out.  His eyebrows shot up, blinking in shock at his seemingly stoic companion.

 

"That's..."

 

"I understand the complexities of this act, Doctor."

 

It was strange hearing Ulpianus' deep rumble sound so...  A voice that he associates more with war and carnage now carries the weight of eroticism like one might not expect.  Ulpianus' mask has slipped off to reveal the chasm of blood and bone, muscle and skin behind, but the Doctor hardly notices it.  A tongue purple like the sea slips out between the cracks in those open lips, glistening with suckers where they catch light, tracing his lips in contemplation.  Yet, the Doctor can't draw his eyes away from those carnivorous teeth, snapping like zippers as he talks.

 

Yet, he wonders, what might his own lips would feel against them.  Would he cut himself on teeth as sharp as his side of his scalpels?  Perhaps, blood staining white fangs, would he lose his breath again in exchange for more fleeting pleasures?

 

"Having said that, would you prefer to take me, or the other way around?"

 

"I... I want to be the top."

 

"Then that is how we'll proceed."

 

Somehow the thought didn't disappoint him, but instead prompted a flutter of excitement somewhere between his guts and lungs.  Some faraway heat pooled between his loins and made his skin tense.  His stomach did a roll as he watched Ulpianus climb onto the bed.

 

"I imagine that, due to my stature, you will have to make do with rutting me as you would were I a female."

 

Just imagining how he'd look, propped open with a huge cock shoved deep into his ass, is enough to stir a spark of need inside the Doctor. The prospect is deplorably appealing, the thought of making Ulpianus completely his.  The sight of the Aegir, that towering, powerful body, reduced to such a state shouldn't send more electricity through his nerves.  And yet.

 

And yet .

 

Ulpianus began pulling his clothes off, each piece neatly folded before being placed aside.  No part of him was spared the scrutiny of the Doctor's curious gaze, his eyes trailing across the older man's taut thighs and muscular torso.  The Doctor immediately moves his hand between Ulpianus' legs, only to find...  Nothing.  Nothing?

No, not nothing.  There is a small slit where a typical cock would be.  “What…?”  The Doctor asks.  “…  Um, are you…?”

 

Ulpianus huffs.  “Do you not know the anatomy of an Aegir?”  He gestures towards the slit.  “Our genitalia is internal, regardless of sex.”

 

Tilting his head down, the Doctor stares a little harder.  He drags his fingers along the length of it, feeling nothing that would indicate a solid structure, before hooking his finger into the slit and peeling it apart.  He is startled by what he sees beneath.

 

Instead of the smooth, clean walls that should greet him there is a protruding tentacle-like appendage of a soft, veiny, purple-hued flesh, glistening in the waning light.  He didn't even notice Ulpianus release a sharp intake of air.

 

Inching his fingers toward it, a sense of nervous apprehension sits in the bottom of his stomach.  Underneath his hand, the surface is more rubbery than he expected, but surprisingly supple and warm.  As his finger trails along its length, Ulpianus flinches, and his entire body grows rigid.

 

The Doctor freezes, but before he can even ask if anything is wrong, his wrist is grasped with an iron hold.  Looking up, Ulpianus regards the Doctor coolly.

 

"Please control yourself.  Our genitals are not toys."

 

"O-oh.  Sorry."

 

Taking in a deep breath, the Doctor tries again.  Carefully, he feels out each ridge, tracing the contour of it as it slowly extends, eventually standing upright like the cocks he's familiar with.  It's warm, sticky, and large enough that the tips of his finger and thumb barely manage to touch each other around it.  As he gives it a squeeze, Ulpianus makes another quiet sound.

 

"Do not squeeze so tightly."

 

"Gotcha."

 

Now able to move his wrist with less risk, the Doctor slides it along the underside, exploring it with the palm of his hand.   Rubbing a pad over the head causes Ulpianus to stir.  A trace of white fluid sticks to the edge of his thumb when he finally pulls away.  At this point, it's already about half of the length of the Doctor's forearm.

 

Pushing his fingers back down to the base, he realizes that it has swelled so much that it's nearly too thick for him to wrap his fist around any longer.  He strokes it, but is quickly halted by a tight clasp on his wrist again.  He meets Ulpianus' crimson gaze, and the Doctor shrinks back.

 

"That's enough. I'm not one of your pleasure toys."

 

"...  Alright."

 

He lets go, and waits.

 

"...  You can put it in." Ulpianus finally says.

 

"Where...?"  He says at length, scanning Ulpianus' body curiously.

 

Ulpianus heaves a great sigh before taking him by the wrist once more and guiding his palm to his groin.  The Doctor's fingers are pushed into the slit, now hot and moist to the touch, but he resists.

 

"Is it safe in here?"  He inquires.  "Doesn't that hurt?  We could have an alternate position–"

 

"Will you just keep your mouth shut?"  Ulpianus cuts him off.

 

Lining himself back up against the aperture, he pushes the head of his erection in.  It slips inside easier than he expects, warm and wet and slick, and he can't help but gasp at the new sensation.  Ulpianus bites back a moan, his posture tensing once again.

 

"Oh.  Oh.   Should I stop?"

"No.  Put it all in."

 

With the assistance of the slick, his cock is nestled in until the Doctor's crotch meets the tight entrance of the cloaca.

 

The insides are immediately caressing against his shaft in subtle undulations, as if trying to pull the Doctor in deeper.

 

"What do I do n-"

 

"Hold me in place, and fuck me however you please.  Got that, or do I need to draw out a diagram for you?"

 

Embarrassment crawls up the Doctor's neck.  Though hesitant, he wraps his arms around the broad, muscular back and gingerly prods into Ulpianus' body.  Soon, his need takes over.

 

Not allowing his eyes to meet Ulpianus', the Doctor quickly moves his hips, feeling the warmth around his cock slide in and out.  With every thrust, the round base of his head knocks against Ulpianus' cock, but to his surprise, Ulpianus growls against it each time.

 

"Still alright?"

 

After a period of silence, a reply is almost finally produced: "Mm."

 

Encouraged by the noise, the Doctor grows increasingly more assertive with each passing minute.  The soft skin at his groin slaps rhythmically against the scaly area of Ulpianus' cloaca.  Moans force their way from the bottom of the Doctor's throat.

 

"It's...  Tight in here.  It's so warm.  How is it, Ulpianus?" The Doctor chokes out.

 

"Don't need to talk about it.  This is for you."  Ulpianus' eyes flash, yet with a certain haziness as he speaks.

 

For me?   The Doctor frowns, his tempo shifting into an alarming speed.  Something dark and desirous has welled up inside him, and his senses have grown almost numb to anything except the incredible pleasures coming from this part of Ulpianus' body.

 

Ulpianus pushes back and flexes around his cock, squeezing it tightly.  The Doctor's thrusts turn mindless and violent, too weak against the muscular man's massive body; he clutches onto Ulpianus' hips so firmly that his nails almost cut through the tough skin there, only heightening the waves of stimulation he's receiving.

 

As his fingers dig into Ulpianus' hips even further, a high-pitched growl is elicited from Ulpianus' chest.  Ulpianus grunts with every thrust as the Doctor can't help but push his pelvis fully in to rub the round edge of his head against the length of Ulpianus' cock.

 

Maybe it's the pleasure driving him senseless, but his erection throbs in a manner that unsettles the Doctor.  In a swift moment of lucidity, the Doctor reaches underneath to palm Ulpianus' shaft.  Its shape…  Is strange, to say the least.

 

"W-what is your thing doing."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Your dick's moving."

 

"...  You really are clueless."

 

The Doctor lowers his head and places his gaze on the cock in question, which is squelching as it twitches and moves on its own. The veins there are raised, and it's wet to the touch - Ulpianus, seeming to have noticed his gaze, tilts his pelvis upwards while prodding him further into his cloaca.  The Doctor rubs his thumb over its slit, watching as that strange appendage, which felt soft to the touch, pulsates against his fingers.

 

"...  Don't think this feels bad."  Ulpianus lets out a heavy breath, the tone of his voice huskier.

 

Cute.   The Doctor tilts his head for a moment in curiosity, but his attention is quickly focused on his pounding hips.  After a mere moment, he resumes his previous motions, moving the cock in his hand in time with his own movements.  Wet, slick noises, accompanied by gasps from the both of them, are hidden under the sound of their bodies, rough against each other, thudding together in the dimness of the room.  He grinds his groin in again and again, filling the air with more moans than he can hear coming from his own mouth, until that growing lump in his lower body threatens to spill over.

 

A powerful twitch slams his orgasm into him, which he somehow manages to hold in place as his seed is emptied straight into the depths of Ulpianus' warm orifice.  Clutching Ulpianus' waist, the Doctor grabs on to his softness in the midst of orgasm, burying his face into the skin of his hip to conceal his erratic breathing.

 

As he opens his eyes to look down, he sees the other cock in his hand spurting out thin white cream; the size of the pulsating cock, coupled with its slenderness, should have looked extremely comedic in such a scenario, but the sight of such a powerful force reduced to its base form in this way instantly entrances the Doctor.  Pints upon pints of ejaculate empty from his tip, until he is finally spent and slumps down, leaning against the bedding to catch his breath.

 

The Doctor hesitates a bit before slipping his right arm beneath his partner's waist and pressing him up close, stroking his hip.  "You okay?" He asks.

 

Ulpianus' pale, angular face is buried against his pillow, his long, white hair scattered in odd clumps, barely masking the slightly red tint of his usually sharp ears.  Not a bad look for such an illustrious captain.   He manages out a small nod.

 

It isn't long before Ulpianus finds his voice again.  Laying in his arms, Ulpianus throws the Doctor a frown as his exhausted cock slides out of the cum-stuffed cloaca.  A surge of hot, bubbling liquid trickles out, and the two look down to see it soaking through their mixed cum.  The sheet beneath their legs is a sticky, filthy mess.

 

"I- I'll grab a towel."  The Doctor musters out.  Even a battle-worn man can make the most sublime expressions; there is something surprisingly genuine about the way the captain clings onto his pillow as more sticky fluids ooze out of him.  He quickly looks around the room to find a towel, and when he returns he comes prepared with a cup of water too.

 

Strangely enough, Ulpianus doesn't object, and even remains obedient as the Doctor cleans up and tosses the dirty towels to a corner of the room.  Ulpianus sips from the cup in silence, his already damp cheeks flushed red as he struggles to stabilize his breathing.

 

With some part of him enraptured by the sight, the Doctor can't help but snicker at the helpless, adorable view; such a fierce and imposing man can make such an honest, carefree expression here.  He doesn't speak to the other man, whose hands tremble as he lowers the cup to his lap.  This, too, was a new expression to the Doctor.  He's never seen him act this vulnerable.

 

Lying back onto the clean side of the bed, his body is motionless save for his eyes following the Doctor's actions.  He watches in silence as the Doctor uses his palms to press his abdomen, trying to squeeze out as much fluid as he can.  Fingers run across smooth, wet scales along his inner thigh, and Ulpianus still doesn't speak, even though his hands now lie folded on his lap.  He merely watches, with pupils frozen with curiosity and intensity that sends coldness down the Doctor's spine.

 

"How was it?"  He'd decided to start with conversation to break the unbearable tension. Ulpianus responds by offering him another short nod, one that was far easier and more contained than his previous nod.  His sharp pupils are cold.  His long silvery-white hair has fallen neatly to the sides of his face and drapes across his shoulders and frame, shielding him from the light in a strange, artful manner.  It's apparent he's on guard.

 

He'd never expected their intimacy could be so frigid.

 

Suddenly, the Doctor could not help but ask, a note of urgency in his tone.

 

"...  Did I hurt you?"

 

Ulpianus blinks.  Then he shakes his head firmly in denial.

 

This causes a wave of relief to crash through the Doctor.  Though he never suspected himself of being a pervert, their actions had somewhat escalated during the act.  More than once did he attempt to test the limits of the other man.

 

Of course, if he really wanted to, the Doctor supposed it wouldn't be too difficult to restrain Ulpianus and do as he pleased.  Not without receiving a few bites, though.  Maybe he'd like that sort of thing?  He seemed to respond better to pain and rougher actions…

 

"If you want a second round," in an attempt to reassure him, Ulpianus beckons, "I'll let you."

 

He really can read minds.  Unnerved, the Doctor raises his hands in surrender.  He wasn't willing to take on that sort of responsibility.  "No, no.  But can I...  Can I kiss you again?"  He asks instead.

 

"That's acceptable."

 

What an uptight man.  Watching as Ulpianus sits completely motionlessly, the Doctor can't help but feel as though he's been allowed to handle an elaborate, expensive vase in a museum.  If not for the breath pushing out through his nose and the clenching and unclenching of his jaw, he would've appeared like a statue carved out of an ocean.

 

The Doctor doesn't dare to hesitate, and cups Ulpianus' chin.  He angles his face, and pecks him on the cheek.  The flesh underneath his fingertips, torn and disfigured and scarred, feels unusually tender - his blood sings under his nerves.  He kisses him on the jaw, nose, chin, mouth, tracing his fingers from his hair to his collarbones.  Ulpianus tastes like the sea.  Something ancient and bottomless, both alluring and overwhelming.  Perhaps the kiss had been a little sudden for him.  Ulpianus didn't reciprocate, but the Doctor didn't mind.  It was an enjoyable kiss even as a one-way conversation.

 

"Tell me if this is uncomfortable."

 

In actuality, the Doctor wasn't particularly interested in the scars itselves.  Or in anything, for that matter, except what resided below.  But if treating the wound like an antique book worked in pleasing Ulpianus, the Doctor had no qualms with being thorough.  His tongue pressed against the tissue, giving it an experimental lick.

 

Thankfully, Ulpianus makes no gestures to stop him.  Only the tightening of his muscles give away the pain he felt.

 

Taking that as an encouraging sign, the Doctor began to lap at it earnestly.  From time to time, he felt the hardness of Ulpianus' fangs underneath the ragged, sunken skin.  Ulpianus smelled like a salty spring on a shoreless ocean, with a heavy sense of rot.  Old seafood, dried seagrasses and dead fishes.  As if a wrecked ship, scuttled at the bottom of the ocean, had rolled over a century ago and the fishes that resided upon it had grown stale -

 

A choked noise comes out from the back of the Ulpianus' throat, where he lies uncomfortably rigid beneath him.  The Doctor pauses, rising away.  His mouth is wet and Ulpianus' scars are dripping saliva.  The Doctor rubs his face.  "Apologies," he breathes.

 

Ulpianus shakes his head.  "That wasn't too bad."  A tiny moment passes before his features crease with what might've been contemplation.  He lies down into the soiled mattress, scooting aside to make room for the Doctor and opening his arms.  "I read that couples like to do something called...  'Cuddling.'"

 

They were not the sort of people who did cuddling - they weren't supposed to enjoy the soft, hot human comfort.  Sex is different from cuddling.

 

But it's okay to be soft sometimes, right?  Who says, after the horrors of the world, that he does not deserve a bit of cuddling?

 

Something squirms in his chest.  A strange, foreign thing.  He didn't know he could still feel it, the weird fluttering sensation, beating wildly with something like hope.  Warmth spreads through the Doctor's chest, and he wants - quite irrationally - to press his face to Ulpianus' (rather large) chest and allow their heartbeats to become one.

 

Why am I being so clingy?

 

The Doctor nestles into Ulpianus' chest as if seeking to quell that peculiar desire, resting his chin on one of his pecs and staring out into the middle distance.  After a moment's hesitation, Ulpianus stiffly wraps his arms around him.  Is it awkward because he is unused to hugging? Because he has no interest in touching others without intending to kill them?  (Though the way he had let the Doctor into his bed seems to indicate the latter isn't true.)

This is a moment for them only.  Affectionate and sweet and only something for the two of them.  

 

The Doctor likes that.

 

Amidst the silence, it takes a moment for the Doctor to realize he can hear Ulpianus's heartbeat.  It's a harsh beat that contrasts strongly with the Doctor's own rhythm.  Perhaps it is all just an illusion, though, a trick played by the Doctor's ears.

 

Under the surface, they are both undoubtedly monsters.

Notes:

do yall have any idea how long ago this chapter was written

Chapter 17: Together

Summary:

The Doctor and Ulpianus sleep in the same bed.

Ulpianus has begun standing vigil over the Doctor's room some nights.   He doesn't enter the room, or reveal himself, he just stands outside, cloaked in the shadows, guarding his Doctor from the night.

 

While the Doctor may not notice Ulpianus directly, something stirs deep inside of him, settling in his core, and he feels a greater calm wash over him as he sleeps, sensing the presence of someone he considers protective.  Even if, admittedly, it is a tad bit unsettling knowing he's being observed without realizing it.

 

It feels....  Comforting, despite the uneasiness.  Which is understandable.  The Doctor is hardly unaware that his lover's habits are beyond the realm of standard behavior.  For another, this sort of creepiness would be disturbing to anyone.  Especially knowing that Ulpianus could kill him easily.  But, he knows that he won't.  Especially because the Hunter stands there all night rather than going out to hunt.

 

The Doctor...  Likes it?  It doesn't feel uncomfortable and bothersome.  Especially now that Ulpianus seems to keep his distance, yet remains close.  Close enough that the Doctor no longer feels the constant urge to look over his shoulder when no one is there.  Enough that the tingling sensation in the back of his neck no longer concerns him, because it isn't a true threat.  Though that sense of being watched doesn't subside, but in the back of his mind he somehow knows that the watcher isn't malevolent.  Just loves him.  Protects him.  It feels nice.  The Doctor feels protected, special, loved.  So he doesn't ask Ulpianus to stop .

 

In fact, he secretly enjoys it.  Most nights, he looks forward to having that sense of warmth and safety wrap around him, that invisible cloak that encases him in its gentle embrace.  The one where he finds himself imagining the caress of an invisible hand across his cheek, a phantom kiss against his forehead.  It's enough to make him want more, but he doesn't press.  The Doctor assumes that, perhaps, once Ulpianus becomes more comfortable he will join him in the same bed again.  To sleep together, as a couple, not for sex.

 

Eventually, the day comes that Ulpianus reveals himself.  At the end of the night, a bit late actually.  The Doctor's already slipped into unconsciousness, but as he stirs he sees the shadowy figure approaching the bed, and blinks sleepily as he wakes.

 

Ulpianus didn't mean to wake him.  He was planning on climbing into the bed and wrapping his arms around the Doctor so that they'd sleep together properly.  Sometimes, the Doctor had felt strong arms around his body as he fell asleep, keeping him safe and comfortable while he slept.  It made him feel so safe, so comfortable, so good.  When he woke up in the morning and saw the dent in the mattress and the covers tossed aside, the warmth still lingering in the material, he knew he'd been held like a baby through the night, kept safe by a loving, distant presence .  Ulpianus tended to disappear right before he'd wake, somehow always able to discern when he was beginning to awaken.

 

But tonight Ulpianus has been lagging behind, taking his time carefully thinking over his actions, contemplating actually revealing himself.  Finally, the Hunter just gives in to his desires and slips into the bed.

 

At first, he figures he's escaped notice.  But then the Doctor stirs, shuffles slightly, and flicks on the lamp next to the bed.

 

"Hey," the Doctor mumbles sleepily.

 

"Go back to sleep," Ulpianus murmurs, his voice soothing, echoing through the chambers.

 

The Doctor turns onto his side so that he can face Ulpianus.  "Nice of you to finally join me."

 

Ulpianus can see that his lashes are heavy, the shadows playing under the Doctor's eyes, making it obvious how exhausted he is.  Gently, he reaches out and cups the Doctor's cheek in his palm, smoothing the strands of hair back out of his face.

 

"Sleep," he murmurs softly, continuing the soothing motion.  "I will take care of you."

 

"What a tempting promise," he giggles playfully.

 

"Shh," he hisses, leaning down to press a kiss to the Doctor's forehead.  "Later."

 

"As long as I wake up with your arms around me..."

 

"That goes without saying."

 

The Doctor sighs, his head falling to rest against Ulpianus's chest as he closed his eyes.  "It's late...  You should stay."

 

He felt Ulpianus' other hand stroke through his hair, carding lightly through the strands.  When the Hunter didn't reply, the Doctor added, "It would make me happy if you stayed with me for the night...  You could fall asleep with me.  We could both...  Hold onto each other for once."

 

"Please," he mumbled, then, he tugged him closer, resting a kiss against Ulpianus' chest through the heavy shirt .

 

Ulpianus hesitated before assenting, adjusting his position to allow the Doctor to bury his face against his chest.

 

He hadn't fully accepted his request to sleep together, but neither had he denied it.  The Doctor would take whatever he could get.  After all, it wasn't often he'd turn down the company.  Especially not when he knew they would feel safe and warm together in this bed.

 

As the Doctor snuggled close to him, nuzzling against him as though Ulpianus was a giant cat, Ulpianus let himself relax, surrendering to the opportunity to give into his impulses and burrow his nose in the Doctor's hair, inhaling his scent.

 

His fingers kneaded gently at the Doctor's shoulder as he breathed out heavily.  His touch was slow, measured, purposeful.  Every movement considered and deliberate.  Nothing was wasted, nothing was erratic.  Every touch calculated and precise.

 

Like he'd come to expect from the Hunter, the Doctor found it comforting to have Ulpianus beside him.  To hear him breathe, to see his eyes shut and his chest rise and fall.  Somehow, the Doctor didn't mind that they weren't going to have sex .  He just wanted Ulpianus close and that was enough for now.  He didn't even think he needed to go any further than that anymore.  It wasn't necessary.  He didn't crave it.

 

They simply held each other as the Doctor lay against him, his head pillowed on his chest, rising and falling with each breath.  His heart beat steadily, drumming its metronome rhythm.  The Doctor found it soothing and comforting, and soon his eyes grew heavy and his breathing slowed.

 

Ulpianus felt the Doctor growing sleepy, his muscles relaxing, the weight pressing against him gradually becoming heavier.  As the man slipped into unconsciousness, the Hunter felt a knot forming in his throat. His stomach churned and his chest burned with heat.  Ulpianus didn't understand these emotions.  He didn't recognize what they were.

 

Why?  Why was the Doctor making him feel these feelings?  What did he even want from him?  Did he want anything other than sex?  It must be, yet Ulpianus couldn't figure out what.  If he was honest with himself, Ulpianus was a mess.  Just completely lost and confused, floundering like a goldfish in a glass bowl.

 

All he knew is that he wasn't used to having a relationship .   To being a person and not a weapon , to touching, kissing, fucking, eating...  It was still a new experience for him, and he found he did like this closeness.  His arms tightened around the other man, pulling him in closer to his chest, cradling the man's head in the crook of his arm.  The Doctor was sleeping so deeply and peacefully, breathing evenly, his lashes thick and dark and his lips soft.  He was clearly enjoying the contact .

 

Perhaps the word 'happy' was more appropriate here.  Happy that he was providing comfort, that he was making someone feel like that.  The feeling bubbled through his insides like a cauldron full of boiling water.  And his mouth curved up at the corners involuntarily into a smile as his skin turned pink.  All he knew was that it felt...  Really nice to have the Doctor so comfortable and secure.

Chapter 18: Surging Tide

Summary:

Ulpianus has been relentless in his affections, just like the surging tide.

Ulpianus has been relentless in his affections, just like the surging tide.

 

Undoubtedly, this was a bad idea.

 

But with Ulpianus’ hot breath ghosting over his dick, the Doctor is not in the right state of mind at the moment.  He doesn’t think of the sharp fangs lining the inside of that sinful mouth.

 

Ulpianus flicks out his tongues and licks his dry, scarred lips.  And those - are those suckers?!  God.

 

…  The Doctor thinks he might just die from this blowjob.

 

He looks down again, staring at Ulpianus where he rests between his legs, his eyes deep and bottomless, drawing him in.  Ulpianus, kneeling there naked, exposed.  His body is beautiful, sculpted and lean and fit.  Still, he knows those muscled arms are strong enough to pin him down without difficulty.

 

Ulpianus never gives him any opportunity to regain the upper hand.  Any time the Doctor tries, those hands pin him down, always holding him fast, tight and secure and safe.  And he's always looking at him, watching him, anticipating his every reaction.  It's like the Hunter's devouring him piece by piece until he's laid bare.

 

Ulpianus is unlike anyone else the Doctor's ever had.  That is undeniable.

 

"Ulpi," he says, breathlessly.  "You don't have to-"

 

Ulpianus hushes him before he can even finish the sentence, silencing his complaints with a flick of his tongues.  "Just relax," he purrs softly.  Tenderly.

 

The Doctor gasps softly when he feels a tongue slide along the tip of his straining member, trailing up and around the tip and tickling lightly at the slit before withdrawing.  Another tongue licks the underside.

 

He's going to lose his mind.

 

From where he lies, the Doctor has a perfect view of Ulpianus and everything he's doing, of the way he moves and the manner in which he handles his body.  Every movement slow and deliberate, and every touch purposeful.  There is none of the nervousness of a virgin or a youthful eagerness.  There is subtle confidence in his every action, yet the Doctor cannot help but admire how Ulpianus makes his every little move feel as though it is a special moment, unique.  There is nothing quite like watching him going down on someone, seeing him actually able to look them directly in the eyes while he takes them into his mouth.

 

Not that the Doctor could pull his gaze away.  Ulpianus' mouth was distracting on a good day.  Watching as it moved, wrapped around him.  So hot and wet.  And - oh god the suction, and his tongue, and the way his throat clenched - fuck.

 

A low, desperate moan escapes the Doctor's lips as Ulpianus continues to tease and torment him.  It's too much to bear.  Too much.  He can't stand it.  The pleasure is overwhelming, almost painful, bringing tears to his eyes as his senses are completely overwhelmed, forcing him to focus entirely on the act itself and little else.  His head drops back, allowing his mind to focus solely on his feeling of euphoria.  He gasps for air, his entire body trembling, his chest heaving, his stomach tight.

 

When he finally manages to regain a measure of composure, Ulpianus starts moving again.  Taking the Doctor deeper, swallowing him whole.  Letting him feel himself hitting the back of his throat and sliding further down his throat, far enough into his tight channel that there is no escape.  No relief to be had except at the Hunter's mercy.

He lets out another moan, and his voice cracks, pleading and mewling in need and desperation, so torn, completely unable to decide which is better - Ulpianus pushing him deeper into his mouth, or the tightness of his throat squeezing and contracting around him.  But the Hunter refuses to let up, continuing to work him like a toy, thrusting his cock into his mouth like it belongs to him.  It's all the Doctor can do to grip the sheets and hold on for dear life, trying to maintain control and not allow himself to scream.

 

"U-Ulpi...  pi-" he gasps. "I-I can't…  I can't-"

 

His words dissolve into a cry of pleasure when Ulpianus pulls back and slides down again, swallowing around his cock and beginning to suck, enveloping him in moist warmth, his sensitive flesh tingling in pleasure.  So much stimulation, so many sensations - the Doctor's brain feels like mush, and he's powerless to stop himself from giving in.  Powerless to keep his hips from bucking, his voice from rising, the hot flush spreading across his cheeks, the spasms racking his muscles as his orgasm tears through him.  He can feel the muscles in Ulpianus' throat flexing as he swallows, the contractions sending a bolt of electricity through him.

 

For a second, the Doctor thinks he might have passed out.  All he feels is nothing but the rush of endorphins and the sensation of release.  When he finally regains some semblance of composure, he reaches for the Hunter, who's looking up at him with those dark, bottomless eyes.  The Doctor cups his face in his hands, bringing it up for a kiss.  It's supposed to be quick and chaste but the way Ulpianus returns it - all tongue and heat and spit - makes the Doctor groan into his mouth.

 

Once again, the Hunter feels as if his very being is completely wrecked by the gentle embrace, the tender, caring gesture.  And Ulpianus is completely unguarded; no sharp words, no mocking jokes, no biting wit.  Just a simple, affectionate kiss, and he falls apart like putty in the Doctor's arms.

 

When they break apart, he leans his head against the Doctor's shoulder and nuzzles him, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him closer.  The Doctor is taken aback by the move and a gasp escapes him as he takes in the sensuality of it.  Then he throws caution to the wind and embraces him, stroking his back and pressing a kiss against his temple, cradling him.

 

"Um," the Doctor says, clearing his throat.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Can I, um..."  His heart races, adrenaline flooding his system, all of his senses coming alive, his cock twitching, "Return the gesture?"

 

"...  You want to..."

 

"Yeah," he breathes.  "Please."

 

"...  Alright."

 

Ulpianus slides off the bed and turns his back to him.  He gets on his knees, positioning himself at the edge of the bed.  He can see all of the toned muscles of Ulpianus' ass, and then he can't help himself, he has to touch.  He cups both cheeks and strokes them tenderly.  "Perfect," the Doctor murmurs under his breath.

 

Ulpianus glares over his shoulder at him, and the Doctor gives him an innocent look in response.  "What?  I'm appreciating what's given to me!"  He says, which causes the Hunter's expression to soften slightly.  He shakes his head, and motions for the Doctor to start.

 

He swallows thickly, feeling his mouth water at the prospect of eating Ulpianus out.  The...  Weirdness down there makes it even more exciting.  He reaches between Ulpianus' legs, sliding his hand up along his inner thigh, parting his legs for him.  He strokes the side of his leg with his fingers.

 

"Tease," the Hunter whispers.

 

The Doctor traces his slit, feeling it pulse under his fingertips.  Ulpianus takes in a shuddering breath.  He strokes him, reveling in the way the Hunter's body reacts, shivering, trembles wracking his form.  Ulpianus lets his head fall back, his long hair cascading down his back.  He bites his lower lip, struggling to keep himself from giving into the pleasure.

 

The Doctor circles the Hunter's entrance, then sinks his index finger inside.  He gasps softly as it slips in easily, then begins to pull back out.  He glances up to check on the other.  Ulpianus just nods, and the Doctor repeats the motion, this time he moves his hand a little faster, and buries his finger deeper.  Again the Hunter's body begins to respond, and soon the Doctor is pumping two fingers in and out of him.  He continues like this for a moment, slowly sliding his fingers out, and then easing them back inside, savoring every sensation, watching, listening, feeling him, drinking in every little shudder and moan and gasp.

 

He leans in and places a soft kiss on the underside of Ulpianus' cloaca, and the Hunter's breath hitches, the muscles in his thighs clenching, his whole body tensing.  The Doctor licks along his slit before sliding his tongue inside, his tongue teasing along the edge, before moving upwards.  He twists his tongue as he goes, finding the spot that makes Ulpianus bite back a moan.  He stays there for a few seconds, then draws his tongue back out, sucking hard, and driving a cry of pleasure from the Hunter.  He repeats this process a few times, stopping for breath occasionally, and when he finally stops he's gasping, panting, trembling.  The pleasure is too intense, his legs shaking, and the Doctor doesn't stop.  He plunges three fingers into the Hunter, fingers curving as he continues his assault on the other, his mouth devouring him, tasting him, consuming him.

 

There's a moment of perfect stillness as Ulpianus is rendered completely incoherent by his climax, unable to muster a single coherent thought, only the primal instincts of the flesh reigning, leaving him feeling weak and vulnerable, gasping for air, breathlessly crying out, as wave after wave crashes over him, drowning his consciousness.

 

"You.  You.   I swear, you are going to kill me," Ulpianus breathes, his eyes closed, his fists clutching the bedsheet, his frame vibrating, and the Doctor knows he would be lying if he says he doesn't enjoy the sight.

 

"I am," he replies softly, pressing another kiss to the Hunter's thigh.  He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, though most of his work is dripping off his face and onto the sheets.

 

He thinks it's worth it.

Notes:

side note it's going to be sub top!doctor x dom bottom!ulpianus, they will fuck later but im not sure when