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A growl escaped between his clenched teeth as he yanked James Ogilvie into the cramped toilet stall with him, pressing the taller man up to the smooth cool brick wall. Their breathing was harsh, mingling in the air between them as Dennis Whitaker simmered in his anger.
The fact that he had to crane his head up just to maintain eye contact with his med student only made him angrier, even if that was irrational on some levels. His hands tightened in Ogilvie’s scrubs, and he wrenched him forwards only to push him back with his body, relishing in the sound leaving him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you.” Dennis seethed, his anger almost making him bare his teeth at him. He managed to wrangle his mouth into a grimace instead. He wasn’t actually asking what was wrong with the student, and hastened to cut him off when he saw those thin lips part. “You think it’s funny to laugh when a fellow doctor gets hurt huh? You think seeing a patient in pain is something to smile about?”
Dennis was well aware that what he was doing right now was probably enough to get him dismissed from the Pitt. But he was confident that he could spin anything to make Ogilvie as the aggressor. Already he was displaying traits that made the day shift staff snippy and annoyed with him.
By contrast, Dennis was an angel. A sweet man from Nebraska that could do little wrong in their eyes. That thought only made his lips twitch, a sharp smile blossoming sweet and true.
“Say, Ogilvie. When a superior asks someone a question, do you answer if it wasn’t directed to you?” Was sweetly asked, knuckles growing white under the strain he was using to keep Ogilvie pinned. The taller man was making a modicum of effort to get himself free, but his actions currently seemed enough to distract him.
Dennis was above him in status, not by much mind, but he was. And Ogilvie was Dennis’ problem. So truly, he was only doing his job, disciplining a wayward medical student that thought himself too big for his britches.
The ex-farmboy was brought out of his mental stewing when Ogilvie spoke, his voice shaken but low, aware that being caught in the men’s bathroom wasn’t a good look for either of them. “If the question was asked to everyone, I would answer it.”
Silence lingered for a moment, a muffled conversation carrying through the wall of the bathroom, an alarm flaring loud enough for it to be noticeable but easily ignorable, which Dennis did, his nose scrunching up as he pressed Ogilvie harder into the wall until a wheeze left him.
“Not what I fuckin’ asked now was it.” He ground out, just barely stopping himself from slapping the other man before he realized he didn’t need to hold himself back. His hand ached as he unwound it from Ogilvie’s scrubs, straightening it out before he struck the other man across the cheek. Not particularly hard, but enough to shock the taller man.
“Try again.”
Ogilvie was frozen against the wall, barely remembering to try and escape from Dennis’ hold. He was reeling from the rage directed at him, his cheek smarting. He knew it wasn’t hard enough to show up yet, but if he wanted to get back to work without someone asking why he–
Oh. No one would ask, would they. Nobody was a fan of his presence and he knew that, faintly he knew it. He had spent all this time trying to be first to answer the questions asked to prove his smarts, to fix the patients the fastest to show his efficiency.
He opened and closed his mouth, throat clicking in the tingling stark silence. His voice was hesitant, slower than normal as he processed his sudden revelation. “I wouldn’t answer if it wasn’t directed to me.”
The hand that was poised to strike him again became lax, sharp lines smoothing out into a much more gentle touch, a curled finger ghosted over his tingling cheek. It wasn’t an apology, the message was meant to sink in, but it still managed to soothe the med student just a tiny bit.
“Exactly right Ogilvie. You got it in one.” Dennis purposefully let his voice go lower, smoother, an electric cattle prod hidden in the light of day. Ogilvie knew how dangerous Dennis was currently, considering his failed attempts to escape, but the true extent was very much unknown.
“So you can imagine why the way you have been behaving so far has been completely unacceptable. Tell me, were you ignorant of your actions? Or just trying to feel superior to someone else?” That gentle hand turned firm once again, grasping at Ogilvie’s jaw to force his head down further, only allowing eye contact.
Dennis could hear the way Ogilvie swallowed under his firm attention, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, just too quick to be passive. The natural way Ogilvie’s face rested made him look untouchable. Vaguely a resting bitch face, but it was nothing compared to Santos.
Yet his eyes were too wide, pupils dilated to fully take in the power play before him.
Those pink lips opened again, a stuttered breath preluding his answer. “I was just answering the que–”
‘Smack!’ Went Dennis’ hand again, the sound seeming to reverberate in the bathroom atmosphere. He used the one hand still in his scrubs and slammed Ogilvie into the wall again, bubbling churning venom scorching his throat.
“How fucking desperate for attention are you that you steal valuable learning opportunities from the people you’re meant to work with.” Was physically spat at the other man, a small part of Dennis satisfied at the physical proof of his anger on Ogilvie’s cheek, spittle lingering on gentle pinkened skin.
Ogilvie didn’t attempt to wipe it off.
Aware that time was running away from them and that, at any moment, a trauma may be called, or his attending would simply just call for him anyway, Dennis slid his hand up Ogilvie’s chest to grab at the neckline of his scrubs, a flash of teeth the only warning before Ogilvie was forcibly sent to his knees, the bleached tiles below sending a shockwave of pain through the student.
“You want attention so badly that you compromise patients, let your team get hurt, cause distress in my friends?” Dennis vaguely was aware of his breathing growing harder, his poisonous rage wriggling around his stomach, a dragon urging him to punish and teach in equal measure.
Without looking away from Ogilvie’s sweating face, and without removing the hand in his scrubs, he tugged on the strings keeping his pants tied and shoved them down enough to get at his boxers as well. He saw the moment that Ogilvie knew what was about to happen by the way his pupils tightened then dilated, an explosion of darkness that attempted to suck Dennis in. He went willingly with the gravitational pull.
His breath stuttered in his chest as he got a hand around himself, stroking up and down until he was half mast. Dennis crowded Ogilvie against the wall using his legs, guiding him back until there was nowhere else to go.
“You’ll learn to bite your tongue before no one agrees to work with you Ogilvie.” His growl was accompanied by his cock slapping against Ogilvie’s other cheek, the one untouched from his punishing hand and spit.
“Count yourself lucky that I’m dealing with you, not Santos, or Dr Robby.” A dull ache took up his hand and he was forced to let go of Ogilvie’s scrubs, shaking his hand out to avoid a cramp. Even with the advantage Ogilvie did nothing to escape, his head turned just slightly to breathe over Dennis’ pulsating cock, a ‘woosh’ of warm air caressing his skin.
Suddenly, all Dennis wanted to do was shut him up, semi-permanantly. Even his breathing was just too loud in the electric atmosphere, a signal to any man that might enter this room that something illicit was taking place.
With a handful of straw blond hair, he ground his hips forwards, sliding his flushed tip against Ogilvie’s slightly parted lips, pushing harder until he forced his way into his mouth, shivering at the scrape of teeth. Vibrations around his cock caused by his tightening hand made Dennis stop breathing.
He was getting back at this student, for endangering people in the ER, for making his friend’s workplace even less enjoyable than it already was.
A low pleased chuckle freely left his lips, and he tugged Ogilvie’s head towards him with his hand at the same time as he jerked his hips forwards, banging his head back against the wall.
The spasming around his length had him pulling back once he realized he held that deep position for a few seconds too long. Ogilvie gasped wetly for air, barely getting two lungfuls in before Dennis was forcing his way back in deep, relishing in the muffled gagging around him.
Steadily, he pumped his hips, letting Ogilvie only breathe on the way out, the taller man having to fight for air as Dennis used him like a toy, a thing without feelings, only meant to be taught a lesson. Each minute counted, he wanted this to stick, for Ogilvie to never forget what would happen if he spoke over someone, if he even so much as smiled at someone in pain again.
Just the thought of how he had looked at his fellow workers when in distress had him forcing himself deep again, tugging his head forwards again and again without letting up, watching as Ogilvie’s face grew flushed and his eyes shone with tears before he allowed him air again, resting his tip against Ogilvie’s tongue as he shakily inhaled and exhaled all over him. Those shiny eyes overflowed, tracks of salt cascading freely.
“P-Please I–” Dennis didn’t let him continue and thrust half of himself in again, catching him off guard and making Ogilvie’s eyes bug out, missing the air he suddenly did not have access to once more.
“Shut the fuck up Ogilvie. This is your lesson. Speak only when spoken to.” Dennis laid his other hand flat against the wall, letting the cold hard tiles soothe his pinked palm. Supporting his own weight allowed him to bare down on Ogilvie harder, pushing his head back into the wall with every thrust, knocking him until the student got with the program and stopped trying to move his head forwards, at the threat of more pain.
Dennis was good at keeping himself silent, having three brothers and living on a farm meant he had no issues preventing pesky gasps or noises of pleasure. How convenient for him, considering Ogilvie had no warning before Dennis pulled back to press his tip down into his flat tongue, hot cum flooding out after a half second pause.
Dennis tugged on Ogilvie’s strands when he noticed the man wasn’t swallowing. With the guiding- forceful -hand of Dr Whitaker, Ogilvie swallowed each pump of cum that followed, salty and hot over his tastebuds, maximizing the taste sure to linger in every inch of his mouth. Dennis’ frame shuddered with his pleasure, lazily rubbing his spurting tip against his palate until only watery pulses oozed out of him.
A strange sense of peace fell over the two then, Dennis no longer taking his frustrations out on Ogilvie, Ogilvie no longer fighting the man, merely silently crying, his mouth keeping the doctor warm.
Finally, Dennis stepped back and ran a hand through his scattered hair, pushing the strands away from his face, very much aware that he was going to have to style it in the mirror before he left for the chaos of the ED once more.
He blindly reached for the toilet paper dispenser behind him and got his cock clean from any lingering cum and saliva, throwing the wad into the toilet and flushing. He righted his clothing, making sure he looked presentable all while continuing to stare down Ogilvie.
“Now…” He started, voice low and pleased, but firm, channelling his inner Robby, although he doubted Robby would ever be in a situation like this. A good thing he wasn’t the older man. “You are going to clean yourself up. You are going to go and apologize to the staff you have hurt, scorned and ignored. And you are going to stay silent until someone has use of you specifically.”
Ogilvie felt Dennis’ cum cling to his gums and teeth, like an octopi’s suckers along his throat. He shuddered when he shifted on his knees, achingly hard himself, but not daring to move while Dennis remained watchful over him.
When it was clear that Dennis wanted a response, he nodded slowly, growing firmer just so he wouldn’t have to try and speak, sure that his throat was going to be a hoarse wreck.
Maybe that was Dennis’ plan all along, to shut him up in more than one way.
A shaky sigh of relief filled the stall when Dennis unlocked the door and stepped out, closing it behind him, leaving Ogilvie alone to clean himself up like he was told to.
Cruelly, fate seemed to ring her little bell as he was going to chase his own pleasure, fingers inches away from his weeping length.
“Tier 1 Trauma. ETA 5 Minutes.”