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Title: Modern Medicine 2/6
Co-Written With: The absolutely lovely and talented
dancinbutterfly
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Todd/Doug, JD/Elliot, Keith/Elliot, Turk/Carla.
Word Count: 6,232 of 31,805
Summary: After the events of My Self-Improvement, Doug and Todd try to hold together their budding relationship while JD tries to win back an old one.
Disclaimer: Bill Lawrence & NBC own Scrubs. Not for profit.
Thank You: To
agirlcalledkil for the amazing beta and
dancinbutterfly for co-writing and kicking me into shape.
"Hello?"
Todd swallows and licks his lips. Maybe if he opens his mouth, something that sounds like English will come out.
"Molly?"
"Hi. Were we talking?"
"Uh, no. This is Todd."
"Todd? From O'Malley's?"
"What?"
"Are you calling from jail? Because my shift doesn’t end for another four hours but I can come get you then. Can you wait?"
Todd blinks. For a moment he's not sure of this is the right number. "What? No. This is Todd Quinlan. I'm a doctor at Sacred Heart. You used to work here. This is Dr. Molly Clock right?"
There’s a pause, then he can hear her gasp. "Oh Todd! Right. As in 'comma The.' How are you Todd comma The? It's been like...how long's it been?"
"Two years."
"Right. Of course. Sorry. I've got a Hebrew calendar. We're in 5767, by the way."
"Oh, that's...nice."
"So how are you Todd? Are you sure we weren’t talking?"
It’s an opening. Todd's not sure if she did it on purpose or if she is just really that spacey. But he doesn’t care.
"Remember that day when you stopped by my apartment complex?"
"When you were naked?"
"Yeah."
"Vividly."
"Do you remember what we talked about?"
"With your mom?" Her voice is suddenly serious and this is why he told her in the first place. She set him off balance with how hot she was and how ditzy, and then she turned around and got all serious on him. It always threw him off and made him more honest than he meant to be.
"Yeah."
"Do you need a session?"
"Do you have time?"
He hears her take a deep breath over the line. "No, but I can make it. Do you have an hour?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Talk to me."
He pulls his bandana off and fists it in his right hand. "I'm seeing someone."
"You are?" She sounds surprised and Todd tries hard not to be offended. She knows his issues and she knows women, and he can’t blame her. He wouldn’t have expected it either. "How is that going?" she asks. "What's she like?"
Todd smiles. He loves that question. "He's great."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Is that comfortable for you?"
"I..." He rubs his forehead with the bandana. "I don’t know."
"Is it because he's a man?"
It's a good question. An important one, given that she has no idea what’s been going on here at Sacred Heart.
"It's not that. The Todd likes guy parts just as much as girl parts. Parts in general? Awesome. It's just...I told him. About my mom."
"That's great, Todd," she says and he can almost see her beaming in her hospital in Wisconsin.
"Yeah? I'm not sure."
"Did he react badly?"
"No. Not really." He's just concerned that he will eventually. "He was great."
"I'm sensing a 'but.'"
There's about fifteen different butt jokes he can make here. Maybe twenty if he makes some small variations. But he's too nervous to make the double entendre.
"I feel like he's eventually going to...I don't know..."
"See it?"
He sighs and leans back into the couch. He should have called her months ago. Years even.
"Yeah."
"Todd?"
"Yeah?"
“I’ve got news for you.”
“Is it good news?”
“Yes. He sees it. Whatever it is that you think him knowing about your history is going to show him? He’s already seen it. He’s probably been able to see it since the beginning. He just didn’t know what it was.”
“Really?”
“You’re not the best at subtlety, Todd.”
“This is true.”
“And I think it’s safe to say that everyone at Sacred Heart has noticed how you interact. So much of how people behave is influenced by their childhoods. It’s why I like bad boys and why JD has such trouble with women and why Elliot has such a hard time with authority figures. None of that’s bad; it’s just who you are and most of your friends already know who you are, Todd.”
He isn’t sure about that. It’s true that Turk and the other surgeons like him. And yeah, JD is cool enough for an internal medicine guy. Dr. Wen thinks he’s gifted and Dr. Kelso doesn’t hate him as much as he seems to loathe so many of the Sacred Heart docs. Carla tries really hard to be good to him even when he’s a jerk, and she gives him advice even when he isn’t ready to hear it. But…
But what?
“If he wants to be with you, chances are, that’s what he wants,” Molly continues. “And something that happened to you that you had absolutely no control over won’t change the way he feels about you if he’s worth anything at all.”
“Yeah, but—“
“No,” Molly says sharply. “There’s no but in this. Either he will understand, or you’re better off with out him. You’re a good man, Todd. You’re hurt and your behavior can be obnoxious, but you’re worthy of unconditional love. Everyone is.”
He shrugs, even though he knows she can’t see him. “I guess.”
“You guess? Todd, listen to me.” She stops. “Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Dr. Clock.”
“Okay. Now I want you to play close attention. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Awesome. Because what I’m about to say is really important. Ready?”
Todd smiles, because how can he not when she talks like that? “Yes.”
“Your mother perverting what should have been the first, safest, most unconditional love you ever knew does not make you unworthy of being loved unconditionally.”
The smile drops off his face. Todd draws in a sharp breath, because that is what it feels like. And he’s been trying and failing to prove that wrong his entire adult life.
“Hey, stick with me because this needs to stick in your head as much, if not more, than the bad memories she gave you. What she did does not reflect on you. I know that’s difficult to hear, but it’s true. And furthermore, it makes you more worthy because you’re willing to try at all after something like that. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t want to be with someone as brave as you’re being right now, Todd.”
Todd blinks. Twice. “What? Me?”
“Yes Todd. You. Victims of sexual assault tend to have problems later in life. Many go to extremes in their sexual behavior yet have a problem with actual intimacy. With virtually no therapy or counseling, you’ve found the strength to try and get beyond that. That’s fantastically brave.”
“So…you’re saying I’m worrying about nothing.”
Molly sighs in his ear. “No, not nothing. After all, you really like him, don’t you?”
Probably too much.
“Yeah. I thought so. I don’t think I’m wrong in assuming that this is the first adult relationship you’ve ever had that wasn’t based purely on sex.”
He can’t argue that statement so he continues to sit quietly, his cell pressed hot against his ear.
“So, this is a big deal,” Molly assures him. “And even without your history, it’s a big deal that would pull up a lot of baggage. You happen to have heavier baggage than a lot of people. It’s okay to need help carrying some of it. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Thanks, Molly.”
“I bet your boyfriend would help you carry it, too, if you let him. You’re on the right path. You just need to let him.”
Todd licks his lips, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his bandana again. He’d known when he dialed her phone number this wouldn’t be easy. But being honest with her is easier than letting the thoughts bounce around in what most people think is his empty head.
“I think I’m a little scared to let him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Doug.”
“The little nervous guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Aw! I know him. He’s so cute and if I recall, a total sweetheart.”
“Mhm,” Todd agrees because he certainly thinks so. Also totally bone-able but he keeps that to himself. Although now that he’s thinking about it, he would make the ultimate center of a Doug and Molly sandwich.
“So give Doug a chance to surprise you. Most people will exceed your expectations if you let them.”
“Really?”
“I like to think so.” Molly says perkily. “Everyone’s got a marshmallow-y center, Todd. Doug’s is much closer to the surface than most people's. Just sit back and let him be a good guy.”
“He is a good guy,” Todd agrees.
“Okay. Then just allow him to be one. You can call me next week for another session. Maybe after seven-ish? I don’t get off ‘til six but I gotta eat dinner, and I don’t want to eat and talk at the same time. It’s really rude. To the person on the other line, I mean. Sounds all wet and nasty.”
“We haven’t gotten to wet and nasty,” Todd mumbles. “I’ve been trying to, you know, be restrained. But not with restraints, if you know what I mean.”
“You will when the time’s right,” Molly assures him, not missing a beat. “But how does Thursday afternoon work for you?”
Todd is flabbergasted. He’d thought this would just be a one-off. But the idea of having someone he can talk to, someone who is smart and impartial and knows is oddly comforting.
“You really want me to call you?”
“Well, I don’t usually take on long-distance patients but if you’ll make an effort, I will too.”
He takes a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all you have to do. Now as much as I hate to say this, I gotta go. It’s like…eight-thirty in Tel Aviv and my mom is supposed to call me in like ten minutes. But you’ll call me on Thursday right?”
“Right.”
“Awesome. Bye Todd! Remember the marshmallows!”
Laughing to himself, Todd flips his phone shut. And then he gets up and heads towards the cafeteria. He really wants some marshmallows right now.
***
Doug spent most of the previous night online, researching child molestation. He felt a little weird looking it up, mostly because he knew that if, for some reason, the government ever decided to confiscate his computer he’d have a lot of explaining to do, but he was trying to find out about ways to help victims of it, and potential things to look out for. He didn’t want to do anything that might trigger an unpleasant memory for Todd or anything. In a way, he felt like he needed to understand it before he could face Todd again, except his all-night research session only proved to him that there was no way to understand someone who would do something that horrible to a child. And if there was, Doug sure as hell didn’t want to go there.
In the end, Doug gives up and tries to go to bed, because his research does nothing but leave him pissed off at a dead woman and a little depressed because no matter what he does, he can never take away what happened to Todd, as much as he might want to. He doesn’t sleep much, and when he finally does, he falls into dreams of hurting Mrs. Quinlan in a variety of scenarios with an assortment of tools. It’s only when he wakes up that he remembers she’s been dead for two years.
He spends most of the morning pacing around his apartment, nervously cleaning every surface in sight. It’s something his mother did when he was a boy, and apparently the habit was genetic, because as soon as he was old enough to hold the spray bottle of Windex in one hand, he’d taken to cleaning whenever he was bored or nervous. Which, for him, was pretty much all day every day. He’d briefly considered being a professional maid or butler when he grew up, but then he’d seen an episode of “St. Elsewhere” and decided medicine was his calling.
But by noon he has literally cleaned everything in his apartment and mopped the kitchen floor twice, and really, the only thing he wants to do is go into work and talk to Todd. After consulting his bus schedule and finding that there’s one leaving at one o’clock that he can take, he takes a quick shower and takes the bus to the closest bus stop to the hospital. Except that now that Doug is here, he pretty much feels terrified at the prospect of going in. What the hell is he going to say to Todd? “It’s going to be okay?” Maybe it won’t be. How can Doug make it okay? He can’t, plain and simple.
To kill time while he thinks of a plan, he wanders up and down the street the bus let him off on, finally stepping inside a quirky, new-agey shop he’s never even noticed existed before. Inside, it smells like dirty bong water. (His roommate in college had been a pothead, though Doug himself has never tried it.)
It’s the kind of place that sells wheatgrass and calls it a “healthy diet,” stocks its shelves with books about government conspiracies, and has a back room full of what Doug thinks are probably sex toys disguised as things such as “back massagers,” but it’s quirky in all the right ways, and Doug spends a few minutes perusing the shelves until he happens upon a small display of “alternative lifestyle pride” products. He smiles at the curly lettering proclaiming as much above the display, fingers tracing idly over the plastic intertwined male symbols and a small bumper sticker that has a picture of two female figures holding hands and proclaims “Marriage is about love!”
It’s not until his eye catches on a small, glassy pin in the shape of a rainbow flag that he realizes he knows exactly what he’s going to say to Todd. He takes two of them up to the counter and tries not to blush as the woman gives him an “aww” look as he hands her the money. It’s not that he cares, it’s just sort of embarrassing to have a strange woman he doesn’t know thinking about him like that at all.
He takes the short walk to the hospital as quickly as he can, wanting to get there before he forgets what he wants to say. He finally finds Todd in the cafeteria, holding a bowl of the mini marshmallows (which are supposed to be for cocoa) of all things, and watching Doug with a worried expression on his face.
“Can we talk?” Doug asks.
Todd stands and follows Doug out of the cafeteria, still clutching his bowl of marshmallows.
Doug leads Todd into an empty triage room close by, then sets down his brown paper bag containing the pins. “Todd, I…I’m really pissed off.” Todd’s face falls and he sets the bowl down without taking his eyes off of Doug’s face. “At your mom,” Doug continues. “I…I spent all last night reading stuff on the Internet trying to figure out how the hell someone could do that to you, and…I just…” He takes Todd’s hand in his. “I don’t understand. And the truth is, I don’t want to. I want to understand you, but I don’t want to understand anyone who could do this to you. Does that make sense?”
Todd gives small nod that Doug takes a sign to continue.
“So I thought a lot about how you must feel. And I won’t pretend that I understand, because I don’t, and we both know that. But I think—and please correct me if I’m wrong—that maybe you feel guilty. Or ashamed? And…I just wanted you to know that you shouldn’t be.” He opens the bag and pulls out one of the pins and holds it out to Todd. “This is a pride flag. It’s supposed to be for gay pride, and it is, but I got it for you because I wanted you to always be proud of yourself and who you are. I think maybe you’re afraid that I’ll look at you differently now or maybe I won’t like you anymore, now that I know what you came from. But that’s not true, Todd. If anything, it makes me like you even more, because I’m proud of what you’ve achieved and who you’ve become in spite of your past.”
Todd takes the pin with shaking fingers and stares at it in his hands. “I…” he begins, the clears his throat. His voice is thick like Doug has never heard it be before. “Thank you,” he says finally. "She said to let you be a nice guy, but--" he trails off.
"Who said?" Doug asks.
"Molly Clock," Todd says, finally meeting Doug's eyes. "I...I talked to her this morning."
"That's good," Doug says encouragingly.
"And she told me that you were a nice guy and I should just let you be one. But..." He glances at the pin again. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Doug says.
"No," Todd continues. "Thank you for...for being proud of me. I don't think anyone ever has been before, at least not since my dad."
"I don't know why that is," Doug says, taking Todd's hand again. "There's a lot in you to be proud of."
Todd nods, then pins the flag onto the chest of his scrubs. He stares at Doug, and for a second Doug thinks maybe he has actually broken Todd's brain. Then Todd's moving towards him, eyes closed and lips puckered, and oh, okay. Doug can do that.
But before they can actually kiss, the door opens and Dr. Cox walks in. Hell.
"Oh, that's just lovely," Dr. Cox says. "Just what I needed to see to help me stay on my diet. Appetite successfully destroyed. My figure thanks you both kindly."
And then he's gone, and Doug gives a nervous laugh, but Todd's kissing him for real this time and yes, this is perfect.
And Doug doesn't know how he knows that this time is different. It shouldn't be, really. Nothing has been resolved, or at least that's the way it feels. Sure, Todd knows now that Doug is still here, but Doug's not sure how much that really means in the grand scheme of things, not compared to what he's up against.
But from the way Todd is kissing him, it must've meant a lot. Maybe things are more resolved than Doug thought. He doesn't know, and he doesn't care, because all he knows is that this time is different, which is why when he reaches for the waistband of Todd's scrubs and Todd lets him, he's not surprised.
His hand slips inside and comes up against something that feels like spandex, and he can't help but grin into the kiss knowing that Todd wears banana hammocks even to work. He pushes his hand inside and wraps it around Todd's dick, and from the way Todd responds, Doug thinks he hasn't gotten anything from anyone other than his own right hand for a long time, then realizes that he probably hasn't.
It makes Doug want to make sure this is good for Todd, even more than he did before. Todd deserves to have this be good. And Doug likes challenges, at least when they're ones he knows he can win at, and he's more than willing to take this one on.
He wonders if the hammock Todd is wearing if one of the ones Doug bought him, and hell, that shouldn't be as hot as it feels. "Hop up," he mumbles against Todd's lips as he backs him up towards the counter.
"What?" Todd asks, eyes glazed and pupils wider than the bright light of the triage room calls for.
"Hop up," Doug repeats, and pushes Todd's waistband past his hips.
"The door..." Todd says, even as he does as Doug asks.
"Do you really care?" Doug asks.
Todd shakes his head no, but Doug pushes a chair up under the doorknob at an angle anyway.
As Doug dips his head between Todd's legs, he can't help but smile at the look on his boyfriend's face. Todd is staring at him like he's never met him before, but also there's a hint of admiration and joy on his features, and Doug thinks I put that there.
He licks his palm and takes Todd's cock in his hand again, then sucks the head into his mouth. Todd gasps loudly above him, and Doug really cannot stop grinning now. "Shh," he warns. "There are people walking right by the door."
"The Todd does not care," Todd informs him.
Doug laughs before licking his way up the shaft of Todd's cock. Just like a cherry sucker, he can't help but think.
Doug gave his first blow job when he was fifteen to a jackass on the baseball team at school. He doesn't like to remember it because they were in the dusty old visitor's dugout and the guy didn't warn him before he came and Doug nearly choked. And even aside from all that, his technique left a lot to be desired. He was just lucky that the guy hadn't ever gotten a blow job before and had nothing to compare Doug's to.
But he got better over time, and once he started working in the morgue and became obsessed with his cherry lollipops, Raoul swore Doug was the best he'd ever gotten. And God knows that Raoul had gotten blow jobs from a lot of guys. A lot. No, seriously, the guy was a bigger man whore than Jude Law.
Doug really hopes that guy catches crabs from his fish tramp.
Of course, if Raoul hadn't left him, Doug never would've had the courage to send Todd those presents, and he's really glad he did that. Other than getting into medicine, it was probably the best decision he ever made in his life.
Which brings him back to the task he set out to do: give Todd the best blow job of his life, and thanks to his cherry suckers and Raoul (as loath as he is to admit that Raoul had any positive affect on his life whatsoever), Doug's pretty sure he can do that.
He sucks just the head into his mouth and swipes his tongue across the slit. Above him, Todd tenses and makes a small choking noise, and Doug knows he's on the right track.
"Doug," Todd says above him, voice barely a pant.
Doug glances up, just to make sure that Todd is okay and that wasn't a request to stop, but sees that Todd has his head thrown back and his eyes closed, and Doug takes it as--finally--a green light.
He twists his wrist on the upstroke at the base of Todd's cock as he swirls his tongue around the head, and it's not long before Todd starts talking. About what, Doug can't really catch onto, but it's mostly, "The Todd likes," and a random string of curses, so Doug counts it as a win.
He's barely been at it for six minutes before Todd's frantically tapping him on the head.
"Oh, fuck," Doug says as he pulls his mouth off of Todd's cock and hurries to grab a tissue off the box on the counter. He strokes twice more and then Todd's falling apart and all Doug can think is finally. Not because it took long for Todd to come, because, Doug thinks rather proudly, six minutes is pretty quick. Finally because he's been wanting to do that since before Todd even knew his name.
Todd leans back against the wall as he gasps for breath, but fists his hand in Doug's shirt and pulls him close enough to kiss.
"Thank you," Todd says again, for what feels like the twelfth time that day (though Doug isn't tired of hearing it by a long shot). "Dude, best blow job ever five."
Doug smiles and holds up his hand for Todd to smack. "You're welcome."
***
Doug feels uncommonly good today. It’s probably the most confident he’s ever felt in his life, which, okay, isn’t saying much. But isn’t it? Doug did well today. He gave Todd an awesome blow job for starters, but he also did a hell of a lot more, and that’s something to be proud of.
He pops a cherry sucker in his mouth as he enters the morgue and peels back the sheet on his first patient. He calls them patients, though technically once they’re dead, they’re not. It makes it easier for him to be around them if he pretends that they’re just in a really deep sleep.
He makes an incision in the guy’s chest, and his sleeve catches on his pin. Before he can stop it, it falls off his shirt and right into the guy’s chest.
“Damn it,” Doug mutters, and starts to fish it out.
***
“You look cheery today,” Turk says as Todd approaches the nurses’ station, smile seemingly plastered on his face.
“Dude, ‘just got a hummer in triage' five,” Todd says.
Turk holds his hand up for Todd to smack. “Dude, this is a hospital!” he tells Todd.
“Oh, like you haven’t ever tried to get cookie in the on-call room,” Carla says with a laugh. “I think it’s great, Todd,” she adds.
“Thanks. Making up five?”
She hesitates, but eventually holds up her hand.
“Snap,” Todd says, then goes to check what surgeries he’s assisting on this afternoon.
***
After the end of his shift, Todd hangs around in the hospital gift shop while he waits for Doug to finish his shift. He doesn’t buy anything because everything inside is ridiculously kitsch, even for Todd, but he does decide that he needs to get Doug a thank you present soon. If not for everything he’s done for him, then at least for the blow job. Because that? Well. Todd had been right about Doug being orally fixated.
“Hi,” Doug says as he enters the shop and makes his way over to Todd.
“Hi,” Todd replies. He’s not sure what to say now. Somehow everything that comes to mind is inadequate.
“Um…you want to come to my apartment? To…I don’t know, talk, maybe? Or…” Doug blushes. “Or something else.”
And what the hell is Todd supposed to say to that? He still thinks taking things slow is the best plan, but Molly did tell him to just let Doug be the nice guy that he was, and apparently nice guys have more sex than Todd previously would’ve thought.
Finally he lowers his voice so Redheaded Gift Shop Girl can’t hear him and whispers, “Some things.”
Doug smiles and takes Todd’s hand in his, and it really should scare Todd how much a perfect fit they are, but it doesn’t.
“There could be safewords involved for when you want me to stop,” Doug tells him as they make their way out to the ‘stang.
“The Todd has never used a safeword before.”
“The Todd has never been with me before, either,” Doug counters as he slides into the passenger’s seat.
Todd raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get you.”
“I know. Asparagus.”
“What?”
“That can be the safeword. Asparagus.”
Todd laughs and puts the car into gear.
***
Doug is very aware of the fact that this is the first person he's had in his bed since Raoul left him. There's a second of hesitation as he pulls Todd gently by the hand from the living room of his apartment into the bedroom, but it disappears when the door closes behind them.
He slides his hand from Todd's and up his arm because, honestly, he loves Todd's arms. They're strong and muscled and he's fascinated by the black ink of his DOC tattoo. He brushes his thumb over it twice before he moves up, over the cut-off shoulder of his scrubs to the back of Todd's neck.
His hand heads further up, tugging off the flame bandana that covered Todd's hair and then dropping it to the floor of his bedroom. He'll pick it up later. Now was kissing time. He feels Todd's hands move to his waist and undo his fanny pack as his own hands bury in that dark hair.
His fanny pack joins Todd's bandana on the carpet and now there's nothing between them but their scrubs and air. And Doug works in the morgue and thinks that frankly air is overrated. So he tugs gently down on Todd's hair and they're kissing, which could be Doug's favorite thing ever.
Raoul used to kiss like he was being graded on his performance. There were tricks and swirls and technique and sometimes Doug thought he was thinking more about the kissing itself than him.
But Todd's got none of that. Todd is graceless, and he's sloppy and he's thinking about Doug. He can tell from his enthusiasm and the way, when he runs his fingernails over Todd's scalp, he actually groans into Doug's mouth. His talented hands fist in the fabric of his scrubs and clings as his knees give and he sinks down a little.
"Bed?" Doug whispers, breaking the kiss but not pulling away more than a centimeter. "Todd, do you want to?"
"Yeah," Todd mumbles, rubbing his nose against the side of Doug's. "Bed's good."
Two steps, a kiss, and a short drop and they land on the bed with a bounce. Todd laughs and Doug smiles from beneath him. They're going to have to hit pause in a minute because there are just way too many clothes in the way here. He just wants to feel the fabric of his comforter and Todd. Nothing else.
He's tugging at the hem of Todd's scrubs but they're stuck because Todd is kissing and sucking a mark into the side of his neck and he won't stop. He manages to get his arms out of the shirt but he's stuck on Todd's head.
"Todd," he gasps because, wow, it’s starting to hurt a little but it's also really good. "Shirt."
Todd stops and blinks up at him, befuddled. "What?"
Doug doesn't answer. He just yanks on the green cotton once more and it comes loose over Todd's head. Todd continues to stare as Doug pushes himself up and pulls his own shirt over his head. Then Todd's stare changes.
Todd's eyes get dark and his mouth opens a little, and Doug watches transfixed as Todd licks his lips. He's never in his life had anyone look at him like that. Ever. He surprises himself by not coming simply from that look.
Pants seem to be in the way at this point. With Todd's eyes still following him, he kicks out of his scrub pants and then he's naked except for his boxers. On his bed. With Todd. He can feel heat rush through his skin as he blushes.
"God. Hot naked boyfriend five," Todd breathes, holding up a hand.
Doug laughs. "Later?" he offers. "You're not yet."
"Definitely," Todd whispers. He's shocked by how fast Todd makes his pants disappear. Then he holds his hand up again and Doug smacks it, before crawling into his lap. Then they're kissing again.
He can feel Todd underneath him and he grinds against him until Todd starts making little noises in the back of his throat, and when Doug breaks the kiss, he slips into the third person.
And that's good. That's amazing. He wonders if anyone's ever really appreciated how hot Todd is when he's losing it because Doug certainly does. The muscles under his skin flex and ripple and it's a bit like making out with a super hot moon bounce that can kiss you back. But in a completely fetish free way, of course.
Although, Doug thinks as he makes his way down that strong, rippled body, he's really starting to dig The Todd's underwear. It's a bit obscene but hey, it's all for him and he can definitely get behind that. Or on top of it, as the case may be.
Much as he likes them on Todd, he likes them better off, and then he's naked. Todd's spread out on his bed like some freaking golden buffet of hotness and he's a man with too small of a plate.
So he does what he always does in this sort of situation, he goes for the dessert first and figures that once he has that, he can figure out what he else he wants once he's got the essentials. Essential at this moment is getting Todd in his mouth.
It's easier to suck Todd from this angle, with him sprawled out and Doug above him. It's not as easy on Doug's arms but he can maneuver better and he has considerably more options. And he can brace himself on the strong smoothness of Todd's thighs where he can feel him twitch under his touch.
He doesn't have the delicacy of dexterity that Todd has. He has never even considered surgery because he's always been something a klutz, but he knows a thing or two to do with his hands that he's fairly sure Todd's never felt.
He sucks a little harder and twirls his tongue a little faster, shifting to place his weight on his legs to free his hands to explore. Todd arches off the bed and shouts out something that Doug is fairly certain is not a word. And then it's like trying to hold onto a wave, rolling and rocking under him as Doug's fingers massage and wander and his throat works.
Todd's got his hands tangled in Doug's hair and his panting, sharp and short and Doug wants more than anything to be with him. He needs to be close to him, closer than this, needs to see Todd's face and he slowly slides his mouth off of Todd, and moves back up to him, his left hand taking over the task his lips abandoned.
Doug nuzzles the side of Todd's jaw gently, enjoying the rough stubble he finds there and he listens to him gasp.
"I…I…" Todd stutters but that's all he can manage. It's so hot that it makes Doug feel shaky and hot.
"Todd," he breathes, his lips traveling across Todd's skin in a journey towards a kiss. "I want you."
It's so lame. It's a completely and utterly lame thing to say. It's also the absolute truth. He wants the black hair and the happy grin and the olive skin and the big eyes and the bad jokes and the scar hidden just beneath the surface and the eccentricities and the heat. He wants to dive in and live in that heat.
"Oh," is all Todd has to say in response and then his eyes slide shut and he's coming. He's jerking and spilling hot and wet over Doug's hand and all he can do is watch those eyes drift shut with pleasure.
He's got an impulse to bring his hand up and lick his fingers. He didn't swallow before and he's curious as to what Todd tastes like. But Todd's still pleasure high and there are so many things he can do with that wetness right now. Things that could make Todd see stars and fireworks and possibly God (although that's only happened to Doug the one time).
Doug nips gently at Todd's lips as he rolls Todd's sac between the fingers of his right hand. His left slides carefully, gently behind them. It's new for Todd. He knows that. But he can make him so feel good. He can make them both feel so damn good and he's killing himself with how slow he's going.
He can feel Todd coming back to him as his kiss is returned and he groans, rubbing his still cotton covered hard on against Todd's hip. Todd's hand releases its death grip in his comforter and comes up to hold the back of his head. As he does so, Doug's index finger circles and presses against Todd. He's gentle and he's slow and he's so careful he might as well be performing a heart transplant but Todd jerks anyway.
"Asparagus," Todd gasps, curling in on himself a bit and Doug kicks himself.
Stupid. He is so freaking stupid. He knows, he knows how fragile this whole thing with Todd is, and he pushed anyway. Only he really hadn't meant to. He had really just wanted them both to feel good. But he takes a deep breath and stops for a moment to think.
Then he wipes his left hand the bedspread and reaches out with both to wrap Todd in his arms. He stays tightly curled and stiff but Doug ignores that, rubbing his arms and his shoulders and his back and anywhere else he can reach and pressing kisses into his hair.
"Hey," he says softly. "Hey, its okay."
Todd's response is muffled but he's pretty sure there's a "sorry" in there somewhere. That's fucking ridiculous, Doug thinks, because of all the things Todd needs to be saying right now? "Sorry," is pretty much last on the list, if it's even on there at all.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for. I promise. Come on," he manages to reach Todd's forehead for a kiss this time. "Talk to me. Please. You didn't do anything wrong, just talk to me."
And slowly, carefully, Doug feels Todd relax. Now if he can just get him uncurled, they'd be getting somewhere.
Click here to go to part 3.
Co-Written With: The absolutely lovely and talented
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Todd/Doug, JD/Elliot, Keith/Elliot, Turk/Carla.
Word Count: 6,232 of 31,805
Summary: After the events of My Self-Improvement, Doug and Todd try to hold together their budding relationship while JD tries to win back an old one.
Disclaimer: Bill Lawrence & NBC own Scrubs. Not for profit.
Thank You: To
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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
"Hello?"
Todd swallows and licks his lips. Maybe if he opens his mouth, something that sounds like English will come out.
"Molly?"
"Hi. Were we talking?"
"Uh, no. This is Todd."
"Todd? From O'Malley's?"
"What?"
"Are you calling from jail? Because my shift doesn’t end for another four hours but I can come get you then. Can you wait?"
Todd blinks. For a moment he's not sure of this is the right number. "What? No. This is Todd Quinlan. I'm a doctor at Sacred Heart. You used to work here. This is Dr. Molly Clock right?"
There’s a pause, then he can hear her gasp. "Oh Todd! Right. As in 'comma The.' How are you Todd comma The? It's been like...how long's it been?"
"Two years."
"Right. Of course. Sorry. I've got a Hebrew calendar. We're in 5767, by the way."
"Oh, that's...nice."
"So how are you Todd? Are you sure we weren’t talking?"
It’s an opening. Todd's not sure if she did it on purpose or if she is just really that spacey. But he doesn’t care.
"Remember that day when you stopped by my apartment complex?"
"When you were naked?"
"Yeah."
"Vividly."
"Do you remember what we talked about?"
"With your mom?" Her voice is suddenly serious and this is why he told her in the first place. She set him off balance with how hot she was and how ditzy, and then she turned around and got all serious on him. It always threw him off and made him more honest than he meant to be.
"Yeah."
"Do you need a session?"
"Do you have time?"
He hears her take a deep breath over the line. "No, but I can make it. Do you have an hour?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Talk to me."
He pulls his bandana off and fists it in his right hand. "I'm seeing someone."
"You are?" She sounds surprised and Todd tries hard not to be offended. She knows his issues and she knows women, and he can’t blame her. He wouldn’t have expected it either. "How is that going?" she asks. "What's she like?"
Todd smiles. He loves that question. "He's great."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Is that comfortable for you?"
"I..." He rubs his forehead with the bandana. "I don’t know."
"Is it because he's a man?"
It's a good question. An important one, given that she has no idea what’s been going on here at Sacred Heart.
"It's not that. The Todd likes guy parts just as much as girl parts. Parts in general? Awesome. It's just...I told him. About my mom."
"That's great, Todd," she says and he can almost see her beaming in her hospital in Wisconsin.
"Yeah? I'm not sure."
"Did he react badly?"
"No. Not really." He's just concerned that he will eventually. "He was great."
"I'm sensing a 'but.'"
There's about fifteen different butt jokes he can make here. Maybe twenty if he makes some small variations. But he's too nervous to make the double entendre.
"I feel like he's eventually going to...I don't know..."
"See it?"
He sighs and leans back into the couch. He should have called her months ago. Years even.
"Yeah."
"Todd?"
"Yeah?"
“I’ve got news for you.”
“Is it good news?”
“Yes. He sees it. Whatever it is that you think him knowing about your history is going to show him? He’s already seen it. He’s probably been able to see it since the beginning. He just didn’t know what it was.”
“Really?”
“You’re not the best at subtlety, Todd.”
“This is true.”
“And I think it’s safe to say that everyone at Sacred Heart has noticed how you interact. So much of how people behave is influenced by their childhoods. It’s why I like bad boys and why JD has such trouble with women and why Elliot has such a hard time with authority figures. None of that’s bad; it’s just who you are and most of your friends already know who you are, Todd.”
He isn’t sure about that. It’s true that Turk and the other surgeons like him. And yeah, JD is cool enough for an internal medicine guy. Dr. Wen thinks he’s gifted and Dr. Kelso doesn’t hate him as much as he seems to loathe so many of the Sacred Heart docs. Carla tries really hard to be good to him even when he’s a jerk, and she gives him advice even when he isn’t ready to hear it. But…
But what?
“If he wants to be with you, chances are, that’s what he wants,” Molly continues. “And something that happened to you that you had absolutely no control over won’t change the way he feels about you if he’s worth anything at all.”
“Yeah, but—“
“No,” Molly says sharply. “There’s no but in this. Either he will understand, or you’re better off with out him. You’re a good man, Todd. You’re hurt and your behavior can be obnoxious, but you’re worthy of unconditional love. Everyone is.”
He shrugs, even though he knows she can’t see him. “I guess.”
“You guess? Todd, listen to me.” She stops. “Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Dr. Clock.”
“Okay. Now I want you to play close attention. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Awesome. Because what I’m about to say is really important. Ready?”
Todd smiles, because how can he not when she talks like that? “Yes.”
“Your mother perverting what should have been the first, safest, most unconditional love you ever knew does not make you unworthy of being loved unconditionally.”
The smile drops off his face. Todd draws in a sharp breath, because that is what it feels like. And he’s been trying and failing to prove that wrong his entire adult life.
“Hey, stick with me because this needs to stick in your head as much, if not more, than the bad memories she gave you. What she did does not reflect on you. I know that’s difficult to hear, but it’s true. And furthermore, it makes you more worthy because you’re willing to try at all after something like that. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t want to be with someone as brave as you’re being right now, Todd.”
Todd blinks. Twice. “What? Me?”
“Yes Todd. You. Victims of sexual assault tend to have problems later in life. Many go to extremes in their sexual behavior yet have a problem with actual intimacy. With virtually no therapy or counseling, you’ve found the strength to try and get beyond that. That’s fantastically brave.”
“So…you’re saying I’m worrying about nothing.”
Molly sighs in his ear. “No, not nothing. After all, you really like him, don’t you?”
Probably too much.
“Yeah. I thought so. I don’t think I’m wrong in assuming that this is the first adult relationship you’ve ever had that wasn’t based purely on sex.”
He can’t argue that statement so he continues to sit quietly, his cell pressed hot against his ear.
“So, this is a big deal,” Molly assures him. “And even without your history, it’s a big deal that would pull up a lot of baggage. You happen to have heavier baggage than a lot of people. It’s okay to need help carrying some of it. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Thanks, Molly.”
“I bet your boyfriend would help you carry it, too, if you let him. You’re on the right path. You just need to let him.”
Todd licks his lips, his fingers twisting in the fabric of his bandana again. He’d known when he dialed her phone number this wouldn’t be easy. But being honest with her is easier than letting the thoughts bounce around in what most people think is his empty head.
“I think I’m a little scared to let him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Doug.”
“The little nervous guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Aw! I know him. He’s so cute and if I recall, a total sweetheart.”
“Mhm,” Todd agrees because he certainly thinks so. Also totally bone-able but he keeps that to himself. Although now that he’s thinking about it, he would make the ultimate center of a Doug and Molly sandwich.
“So give Doug a chance to surprise you. Most people will exceed your expectations if you let them.”
“Really?”
“I like to think so.” Molly says perkily. “Everyone’s got a marshmallow-y center, Todd. Doug’s is much closer to the surface than most people's. Just sit back and let him be a good guy.”
“He is a good guy,” Todd agrees.
“Okay. Then just allow him to be one. You can call me next week for another session. Maybe after seven-ish? I don’t get off ‘til six but I gotta eat dinner, and I don’t want to eat and talk at the same time. It’s really rude. To the person on the other line, I mean. Sounds all wet and nasty.”
“We haven’t gotten to wet and nasty,” Todd mumbles. “I’ve been trying to, you know, be restrained. But not with restraints, if you know what I mean.”
“You will when the time’s right,” Molly assures him, not missing a beat. “But how does Thursday afternoon work for you?”
Todd is flabbergasted. He’d thought this would just be a one-off. But the idea of having someone he can talk to, someone who is smart and impartial and knows is oddly comforting.
“You really want me to call you?”
“Well, I don’t usually take on long-distance patients but if you’ll make an effort, I will too.”
He takes a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all you have to do. Now as much as I hate to say this, I gotta go. It’s like…eight-thirty in Tel Aviv and my mom is supposed to call me in like ten minutes. But you’ll call me on Thursday right?”
“Right.”
“Awesome. Bye Todd! Remember the marshmallows!”
Laughing to himself, Todd flips his phone shut. And then he gets up and heads towards the cafeteria. He really wants some marshmallows right now.
Doug spent most of the previous night online, researching child molestation. He felt a little weird looking it up, mostly because he knew that if, for some reason, the government ever decided to confiscate his computer he’d have a lot of explaining to do, but he was trying to find out about ways to help victims of it, and potential things to look out for. He didn’t want to do anything that might trigger an unpleasant memory for Todd or anything. In a way, he felt like he needed to understand it before he could face Todd again, except his all-night research session only proved to him that there was no way to understand someone who would do something that horrible to a child. And if there was, Doug sure as hell didn’t want to go there.
In the end, Doug gives up and tries to go to bed, because his research does nothing but leave him pissed off at a dead woman and a little depressed because no matter what he does, he can never take away what happened to Todd, as much as he might want to. He doesn’t sleep much, and when he finally does, he falls into dreams of hurting Mrs. Quinlan in a variety of scenarios with an assortment of tools. It’s only when he wakes up that he remembers she’s been dead for two years.
He spends most of the morning pacing around his apartment, nervously cleaning every surface in sight. It’s something his mother did when he was a boy, and apparently the habit was genetic, because as soon as he was old enough to hold the spray bottle of Windex in one hand, he’d taken to cleaning whenever he was bored or nervous. Which, for him, was pretty much all day every day. He’d briefly considered being a professional maid or butler when he grew up, but then he’d seen an episode of “St. Elsewhere” and decided medicine was his calling.
But by noon he has literally cleaned everything in his apartment and mopped the kitchen floor twice, and really, the only thing he wants to do is go into work and talk to Todd. After consulting his bus schedule and finding that there’s one leaving at one o’clock that he can take, he takes a quick shower and takes the bus to the closest bus stop to the hospital. Except that now that Doug is here, he pretty much feels terrified at the prospect of going in. What the hell is he going to say to Todd? “It’s going to be okay?” Maybe it won’t be. How can Doug make it okay? He can’t, plain and simple.
To kill time while he thinks of a plan, he wanders up and down the street the bus let him off on, finally stepping inside a quirky, new-agey shop he’s never even noticed existed before. Inside, it smells like dirty bong water. (His roommate in college had been a pothead, though Doug himself has never tried it.)
It’s the kind of place that sells wheatgrass and calls it a “healthy diet,” stocks its shelves with books about government conspiracies, and has a back room full of what Doug thinks are probably sex toys disguised as things such as “back massagers,” but it’s quirky in all the right ways, and Doug spends a few minutes perusing the shelves until he happens upon a small display of “alternative lifestyle pride” products. He smiles at the curly lettering proclaiming as much above the display, fingers tracing idly over the plastic intertwined male symbols and a small bumper sticker that has a picture of two female figures holding hands and proclaims “Marriage is about love!”
It’s not until his eye catches on a small, glassy pin in the shape of a rainbow flag that he realizes he knows exactly what he’s going to say to Todd. He takes two of them up to the counter and tries not to blush as the woman gives him an “aww” look as he hands her the money. It’s not that he cares, it’s just sort of embarrassing to have a strange woman he doesn’t know thinking about him like that at all.
He takes the short walk to the hospital as quickly as he can, wanting to get there before he forgets what he wants to say. He finally finds Todd in the cafeteria, holding a bowl of the mini marshmallows (which are supposed to be for cocoa) of all things, and watching Doug with a worried expression on his face.
“Can we talk?” Doug asks.
Todd stands and follows Doug out of the cafeteria, still clutching his bowl of marshmallows.
Doug leads Todd into an empty triage room close by, then sets down his brown paper bag containing the pins. “Todd, I…I’m really pissed off.” Todd’s face falls and he sets the bowl down without taking his eyes off of Doug’s face. “At your mom,” Doug continues. “I…I spent all last night reading stuff on the Internet trying to figure out how the hell someone could do that to you, and…I just…” He takes Todd’s hand in his. “I don’t understand. And the truth is, I don’t want to. I want to understand you, but I don’t want to understand anyone who could do this to you. Does that make sense?”
Todd gives small nod that Doug takes a sign to continue.
“So I thought a lot about how you must feel. And I won’t pretend that I understand, because I don’t, and we both know that. But I think—and please correct me if I’m wrong—that maybe you feel guilty. Or ashamed? And…I just wanted you to know that you shouldn’t be.” He opens the bag and pulls out one of the pins and holds it out to Todd. “This is a pride flag. It’s supposed to be for gay pride, and it is, but I got it for you because I wanted you to always be proud of yourself and who you are. I think maybe you’re afraid that I’ll look at you differently now or maybe I won’t like you anymore, now that I know what you came from. But that’s not true, Todd. If anything, it makes me like you even more, because I’m proud of what you’ve achieved and who you’ve become in spite of your past.”
Todd takes the pin with shaking fingers and stares at it in his hands. “I…” he begins, the clears his throat. His voice is thick like Doug has never heard it be before. “Thank you,” he says finally. "She said to let you be a nice guy, but--" he trails off.
"Who said?" Doug asks.
"Molly Clock," Todd says, finally meeting Doug's eyes. "I...I talked to her this morning."
"That's good," Doug says encouragingly.
"And she told me that you were a nice guy and I should just let you be one. But..." He glances at the pin again. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Doug says.
"No," Todd continues. "Thank you for...for being proud of me. I don't think anyone ever has been before, at least not since my dad."
"I don't know why that is," Doug says, taking Todd's hand again. "There's a lot in you to be proud of."
Todd nods, then pins the flag onto the chest of his scrubs. He stares at Doug, and for a second Doug thinks maybe he has actually broken Todd's brain. Then Todd's moving towards him, eyes closed and lips puckered, and oh, okay. Doug can do that.
But before they can actually kiss, the door opens and Dr. Cox walks in. Hell.
"Oh, that's just lovely," Dr. Cox says. "Just what I needed to see to help me stay on my diet. Appetite successfully destroyed. My figure thanks you both kindly."
And then he's gone, and Doug gives a nervous laugh, but Todd's kissing him for real this time and yes, this is perfect.
And Doug doesn't know how he knows that this time is different. It shouldn't be, really. Nothing has been resolved, or at least that's the way it feels. Sure, Todd knows now that Doug is still here, but Doug's not sure how much that really means in the grand scheme of things, not compared to what he's up against.
But from the way Todd is kissing him, it must've meant a lot. Maybe things are more resolved than Doug thought. He doesn't know, and he doesn't care, because all he knows is that this time is different, which is why when he reaches for the waistband of Todd's scrubs and Todd lets him, he's not surprised.
His hand slips inside and comes up against something that feels like spandex, and he can't help but grin into the kiss knowing that Todd wears banana hammocks even to work. He pushes his hand inside and wraps it around Todd's dick, and from the way Todd responds, Doug thinks he hasn't gotten anything from anyone other than his own right hand for a long time, then realizes that he probably hasn't.
It makes Doug want to make sure this is good for Todd, even more than he did before. Todd deserves to have this be good. And Doug likes challenges, at least when they're ones he knows he can win at, and he's more than willing to take this one on.
He wonders if the hammock Todd is wearing if one of the ones Doug bought him, and hell, that shouldn't be as hot as it feels. "Hop up," he mumbles against Todd's lips as he backs him up towards the counter.
"What?" Todd asks, eyes glazed and pupils wider than the bright light of the triage room calls for.
"Hop up," Doug repeats, and pushes Todd's waistband past his hips.
"The door..." Todd says, even as he does as Doug asks.
"Do you really care?" Doug asks.
Todd shakes his head no, but Doug pushes a chair up under the doorknob at an angle anyway.
As Doug dips his head between Todd's legs, he can't help but smile at the look on his boyfriend's face. Todd is staring at him like he's never met him before, but also there's a hint of admiration and joy on his features, and Doug thinks I put that there.
He licks his palm and takes Todd's cock in his hand again, then sucks the head into his mouth. Todd gasps loudly above him, and Doug really cannot stop grinning now. "Shh," he warns. "There are people walking right by the door."
"The Todd does not care," Todd informs him.
Doug laughs before licking his way up the shaft of Todd's cock. Just like a cherry sucker, he can't help but think.
Doug gave his first blow job when he was fifteen to a jackass on the baseball team at school. He doesn't like to remember it because they were in the dusty old visitor's dugout and the guy didn't warn him before he came and Doug nearly choked. And even aside from all that, his technique left a lot to be desired. He was just lucky that the guy hadn't ever gotten a blow job before and had nothing to compare Doug's to.
But he got better over time, and once he started working in the morgue and became obsessed with his cherry lollipops, Raoul swore Doug was the best he'd ever gotten. And God knows that Raoul had gotten blow jobs from a lot of guys. A lot. No, seriously, the guy was a bigger man whore than Jude Law.
Doug really hopes that guy catches crabs from his fish tramp.
Of course, if Raoul hadn't left him, Doug never would've had the courage to send Todd those presents, and he's really glad he did that. Other than getting into medicine, it was probably the best decision he ever made in his life.
Which brings him back to the task he set out to do: give Todd the best blow job of his life, and thanks to his cherry suckers and Raoul (as loath as he is to admit that Raoul had any positive affect on his life whatsoever), Doug's pretty sure he can do that.
He sucks just the head into his mouth and swipes his tongue across the slit. Above him, Todd tenses and makes a small choking noise, and Doug knows he's on the right track.
"Doug," Todd says above him, voice barely a pant.
Doug glances up, just to make sure that Todd is okay and that wasn't a request to stop, but sees that Todd has his head thrown back and his eyes closed, and Doug takes it as--finally--a green light.
He twists his wrist on the upstroke at the base of Todd's cock as he swirls his tongue around the head, and it's not long before Todd starts talking. About what, Doug can't really catch onto, but it's mostly, "The Todd likes," and a random string of curses, so Doug counts it as a win.
He's barely been at it for six minutes before Todd's frantically tapping him on the head.
"Oh, fuck," Doug says as he pulls his mouth off of Todd's cock and hurries to grab a tissue off the box on the counter. He strokes twice more and then Todd's falling apart and all Doug can think is finally. Not because it took long for Todd to come, because, Doug thinks rather proudly, six minutes is pretty quick. Finally because he's been wanting to do that since before Todd even knew his name.
Todd leans back against the wall as he gasps for breath, but fists his hand in Doug's shirt and pulls him close enough to kiss.
"Thank you," Todd says again, for what feels like the twelfth time that day (though Doug isn't tired of hearing it by a long shot). "Dude, best blow job ever five."
Doug smiles and holds up his hand for Todd to smack. "You're welcome."
Doug feels uncommonly good today. It’s probably the most confident he’s ever felt in his life, which, okay, isn’t saying much. But isn’t it? Doug did well today. He gave Todd an awesome blow job for starters, but he also did a hell of a lot more, and that’s something to be proud of.
He pops a cherry sucker in his mouth as he enters the morgue and peels back the sheet on his first patient. He calls them patients, though technically once they’re dead, they’re not. It makes it easier for him to be around them if he pretends that they’re just in a really deep sleep.
He makes an incision in the guy’s chest, and his sleeve catches on his pin. Before he can stop it, it falls off his shirt and right into the guy’s chest.
“Damn it,” Doug mutters, and starts to fish it out.
“You look cheery today,” Turk says as Todd approaches the nurses’ station, smile seemingly plastered on his face.
“Dude, ‘just got a hummer in triage' five,” Todd says.
Turk holds his hand up for Todd to smack. “Dude, this is a hospital!” he tells Todd.
“Oh, like you haven’t ever tried to get cookie in the on-call room,” Carla says with a laugh. “I think it’s great, Todd,” she adds.
“Thanks. Making up five?”
She hesitates, but eventually holds up her hand.
“Snap,” Todd says, then goes to check what surgeries he’s assisting on this afternoon.
After the end of his shift, Todd hangs around in the hospital gift shop while he waits for Doug to finish his shift. He doesn’t buy anything because everything inside is ridiculously kitsch, even for Todd, but he does decide that he needs to get Doug a thank you present soon. If not for everything he’s done for him, then at least for the blow job. Because that? Well. Todd had been right about Doug being orally fixated.
“Hi,” Doug says as he enters the shop and makes his way over to Todd.
“Hi,” Todd replies. He’s not sure what to say now. Somehow everything that comes to mind is inadequate.
“Um…you want to come to my apartment? To…I don’t know, talk, maybe? Or…” Doug blushes. “Or something else.”
And what the hell is Todd supposed to say to that? He still thinks taking things slow is the best plan, but Molly did tell him to just let Doug be the nice guy that he was, and apparently nice guys have more sex than Todd previously would’ve thought.
Finally he lowers his voice so Redheaded Gift Shop Girl can’t hear him and whispers, “Some things.”
Doug smiles and takes Todd’s hand in his, and it really should scare Todd how much a perfect fit they are, but it doesn’t.
“There could be safewords involved for when you want me to stop,” Doug tells him as they make their way out to the ‘stang.
“The Todd has never used a safeword before.”
“The Todd has never been with me before, either,” Doug counters as he slides into the passenger’s seat.
Todd raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get you.”
“I know. Asparagus.”
“What?”
“That can be the safeword. Asparagus.”
Todd laughs and puts the car into gear.
Doug is very aware of the fact that this is the first person he's had in his bed since Raoul left him. There's a second of hesitation as he pulls Todd gently by the hand from the living room of his apartment into the bedroom, but it disappears when the door closes behind them.
He slides his hand from Todd's and up his arm because, honestly, he loves Todd's arms. They're strong and muscled and he's fascinated by the black ink of his DOC tattoo. He brushes his thumb over it twice before he moves up, over the cut-off shoulder of his scrubs to the back of Todd's neck.
His hand heads further up, tugging off the flame bandana that covered Todd's hair and then dropping it to the floor of his bedroom. He'll pick it up later. Now was kissing time. He feels Todd's hands move to his waist and undo his fanny pack as his own hands bury in that dark hair.
His fanny pack joins Todd's bandana on the carpet and now there's nothing between them but their scrubs and air. And Doug works in the morgue and thinks that frankly air is overrated. So he tugs gently down on Todd's hair and they're kissing, which could be Doug's favorite thing ever.
Raoul used to kiss like he was being graded on his performance. There were tricks and swirls and technique and sometimes Doug thought he was thinking more about the kissing itself than him.
But Todd's got none of that. Todd is graceless, and he's sloppy and he's thinking about Doug. He can tell from his enthusiasm and the way, when he runs his fingernails over Todd's scalp, he actually groans into Doug's mouth. His talented hands fist in the fabric of his scrubs and clings as his knees give and he sinks down a little.
"Bed?" Doug whispers, breaking the kiss but not pulling away more than a centimeter. "Todd, do you want to?"
"Yeah," Todd mumbles, rubbing his nose against the side of Doug's. "Bed's good."
Two steps, a kiss, and a short drop and they land on the bed with a bounce. Todd laughs and Doug smiles from beneath him. They're going to have to hit pause in a minute because there are just way too many clothes in the way here. He just wants to feel the fabric of his comforter and Todd. Nothing else.
He's tugging at the hem of Todd's scrubs but they're stuck because Todd is kissing and sucking a mark into the side of his neck and he won't stop. He manages to get his arms out of the shirt but he's stuck on Todd's head.
"Todd," he gasps because, wow, it’s starting to hurt a little but it's also really good. "Shirt."
Todd stops and blinks up at him, befuddled. "What?"
Doug doesn't answer. He just yanks on the green cotton once more and it comes loose over Todd's head. Todd continues to stare as Doug pushes himself up and pulls his own shirt over his head. Then Todd's stare changes.
Todd's eyes get dark and his mouth opens a little, and Doug watches transfixed as Todd licks his lips. He's never in his life had anyone look at him like that. Ever. He surprises himself by not coming simply from that look.
Pants seem to be in the way at this point. With Todd's eyes still following him, he kicks out of his scrub pants and then he's naked except for his boxers. On his bed. With Todd. He can feel heat rush through his skin as he blushes.
"God. Hot naked boyfriend five," Todd breathes, holding up a hand.
Doug laughs. "Later?" he offers. "You're not yet."
"Definitely," Todd whispers. He's shocked by how fast Todd makes his pants disappear. Then he holds his hand up again and Doug smacks it, before crawling into his lap. Then they're kissing again.
He can feel Todd underneath him and he grinds against him until Todd starts making little noises in the back of his throat, and when Doug breaks the kiss, he slips into the third person.
And that's good. That's amazing. He wonders if anyone's ever really appreciated how hot Todd is when he's losing it because Doug certainly does. The muscles under his skin flex and ripple and it's a bit like making out with a super hot moon bounce that can kiss you back. But in a completely fetish free way, of course.
Although, Doug thinks as he makes his way down that strong, rippled body, he's really starting to dig The Todd's underwear. It's a bit obscene but hey, it's all for him and he can definitely get behind that. Or on top of it, as the case may be.
Much as he likes them on Todd, he likes them better off, and then he's naked. Todd's spread out on his bed like some freaking golden buffet of hotness and he's a man with too small of a plate.
So he does what he always does in this sort of situation, he goes for the dessert first and figures that once he has that, he can figure out what he else he wants once he's got the essentials. Essential at this moment is getting Todd in his mouth.
It's easier to suck Todd from this angle, with him sprawled out and Doug above him. It's not as easy on Doug's arms but he can maneuver better and he has considerably more options. And he can brace himself on the strong smoothness of Todd's thighs where he can feel him twitch under his touch.
He doesn't have the delicacy of dexterity that Todd has. He has never even considered surgery because he's always been something a klutz, but he knows a thing or two to do with his hands that he's fairly sure Todd's never felt.
He sucks a little harder and twirls his tongue a little faster, shifting to place his weight on his legs to free his hands to explore. Todd arches off the bed and shouts out something that Doug is fairly certain is not a word. And then it's like trying to hold onto a wave, rolling and rocking under him as Doug's fingers massage and wander and his throat works.
Todd's got his hands tangled in Doug's hair and his panting, sharp and short and Doug wants more than anything to be with him. He needs to be close to him, closer than this, needs to see Todd's face and he slowly slides his mouth off of Todd, and moves back up to him, his left hand taking over the task his lips abandoned.
Doug nuzzles the side of Todd's jaw gently, enjoying the rough stubble he finds there and he listens to him gasp.
"I…I…" Todd stutters but that's all he can manage. It's so hot that it makes Doug feel shaky and hot.
"Todd," he breathes, his lips traveling across Todd's skin in a journey towards a kiss. "I want you."
It's so lame. It's a completely and utterly lame thing to say. It's also the absolute truth. He wants the black hair and the happy grin and the olive skin and the big eyes and the bad jokes and the scar hidden just beneath the surface and the eccentricities and the heat. He wants to dive in and live in that heat.
"Oh," is all Todd has to say in response and then his eyes slide shut and he's coming. He's jerking and spilling hot and wet over Doug's hand and all he can do is watch those eyes drift shut with pleasure.
He's got an impulse to bring his hand up and lick his fingers. He didn't swallow before and he's curious as to what Todd tastes like. But Todd's still pleasure high and there are so many things he can do with that wetness right now. Things that could make Todd see stars and fireworks and possibly God (although that's only happened to Doug the one time).
Doug nips gently at Todd's lips as he rolls Todd's sac between the fingers of his right hand. His left slides carefully, gently behind them. It's new for Todd. He knows that. But he can make him so feel good. He can make them both feel so damn good and he's killing himself with how slow he's going.
He can feel Todd coming back to him as his kiss is returned and he groans, rubbing his still cotton covered hard on against Todd's hip. Todd's hand releases its death grip in his comforter and comes up to hold the back of his head. As he does so, Doug's index finger circles and presses against Todd. He's gentle and he's slow and he's so careful he might as well be performing a heart transplant but Todd jerks anyway.
"Asparagus," Todd gasps, curling in on himself a bit and Doug kicks himself.
Stupid. He is so freaking stupid. He knows, he knows how fragile this whole thing with Todd is, and he pushed anyway. Only he really hadn't meant to. He had really just wanted them both to feel good. But he takes a deep breath and stops for a moment to think.
Then he wipes his left hand the bedspread and reaches out with both to wrap Todd in his arms. He stays tightly curled and stiff but Doug ignores that, rubbing his arms and his shoulders and his back and anywhere else he can reach and pressing kisses into his hair.
"Hey," he says softly. "Hey, its okay."
Todd's response is muffled but he's pretty sure there's a "sorry" in there somewhere. That's fucking ridiculous, Doug thinks, because of all the things Todd needs to be saying right now? "Sorry," is pretty much last on the list, if it's even on there at all.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for. I promise. Come on," he manages to reach Todd's forehead for a kiss this time. "Talk to me. Please. You didn't do anything wrong, just talk to me."
And slowly, carefully, Doug feels Todd relax. Now if he can just get him uncurled, they'd be getting somewhere.
Click here to go to part 3.
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Date: 2008-05-19 05:29 pm (UTC)I giggled at the high-fives. And Dr. Clock! You captured Molly's ditzy "were we talking" thing with the crazy jailhouse boyfriends and the "everyone's a marshmallow" attitude so well. And then she gave fantastic advice, and yes.
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Date: 2008-05-19 05:40 pm (UTC)Thank you, we're glad you like it so far. :)