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Herbert West was doing something rather unusual for a Saturday afternoon; he was actively trying to keep a plant alive instead of killing it to test the limitations of death.
Dan sat beside him, chin propped up in his palm. “You really think there’s something special about this old thing we found in Hill’s drawer?”
“It was behind four padlocks in a solution in a filing cabinet drilled though to expose it to light,” Herbert said. “He wanted it to live for a reason, and there has to be a reason for that. Yes, think I know why.”
“Oh? What’s your theory?” Dan asked.
“According to the chemical screen I’ve put this solution through, It has an incredible amount of energy contained within its pollen.” He held up a small beaker of yellow solution. “Once I harness the energy from this plant,” he declared, “one more building block in the eternal puzzle of life will be revealed to me.”
He looked so proud of himself that Dan was reluctant to ask the question. “How are you going to test it?”
West looked solemn as he stared at the beaker – he held out his right hand. “Daniel? Give me the needle.”
“What? Are you going to shoot yourself up with the stuff?! Are you mad?” cried out Dan.
“How else did you think I’d consume it? Don’t make me drink the solution, Daniel! I’m not a barbarian!” But because Dan cared – cared in a way he wasn’t ready to admit to yet – he lurched for the beaker. It was upended upon both of them.
“Oh damn it!” West grunted. He gave Dan his clipboard pad and said, “record what you’re feeling.”
Dan blinked. His blood flowed through his veins like honey. “What I’m feeling isn’t very scientific.”
West groaned. “Then make a science of the base lust you’re experiencing. I need to use the washroom.”
Dan grabbed him by the wrist. He’d noticed the appealing bulge in his partner’s pants. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Oh yes I do,” West grumbled.
“Not when I’m here,” Dan replied.
Some scientific part of Dan’s brain counted off the increasing drumbeat of his pulse, the throb of West’s cock against his hip, and the aggression of his tongue. Then his back was hitting the counter and his pants were coming down, and he wasn’t of mind to calculate anything else.
It was messy. Shockingly messy, from someone so organized. Dan could barely wrap his mind around what they had done, let alone what they were going to keep doing for the next few hours. But his pulse was still racing and his body was still throbbing. At last, he spoke up. “How many more rounds do you think we’re going to have to go until it’s out of our systems?” he asked West.
West was polishing his glasses with Dan’s discarded boxer shorts. “I…” he gulped, pushed his glasses into place. “Not any time soon. I don’t suppose you mind?”
“Not at all, Herbert,” he said, dragging the scientist into an embrace. “Not at all.”