Work Text:
The office was ready.
White bedsheets full of wrinkles covered the walls. A white sheet was cutting the room in half. Another white sheet covered the examination table that Angel had found Husk didn't want to know where or how - It was Husk who had insisted on putting something on it. Between the door and the table, the two battered chairs only ever served him as clothes racks faced each other. One of them had its back against the desk. Desk that was actually a table with a drawer, and with its dark brown color it was an eyesore, but who fucking cared. A white light bulb hanging from the ceiling completed the aseptic picture.
Husk was ready too.
He had had to roll up the sleeves of his white coat four times, and the hem acted as a train, but he had been able to fit three claws and cut three holes for wings and tail. He had had to forgo the fake glasses, because all those he had found assumed his ears were at eye level. He had had to forgo the gloves too, because either only two fingers fit in or their tips ended up peeling. And, most importantly, he had already jerked off in the bathroom. The thought of being able to resist until the end wasn't even conceivable. He had unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie, anyway.
Stethoscope on his neck, clipboard and pen in hand, Husk plumped down into the chair against the desk. The creaking's volume reassured him that there was no new collapse.
Okay. It's feasible. He closed his eyes, pressed two fingers on his eyelids.
«Please, don't watch my doctor and patient movies!» He saw again Angel's pleading pretty face. «I want everything to be as natural as possible!» He felt again his hands between those slender fingers. «And above all,» He met again those pink eyes. «don't act.»
I know I suck at acting! His hand ran through his hair, he opened his eyes again. Not that Angel usually acts with great actors, but- He took a deep breath. The palm came down again, it spread all over his face.
He knew how to pretend to be stoic. He could read every move and guess what others were thinking, he knew how to find solutions quickly.
It happened at the gaming table, it happened behind the bar, there was no reason why it shouldn't also happen during a roleplay he had never done either in life or in death and that he was about to do with the most famous porn star in Hell.
Another breath, deeper. Nothing changed, and the opposite would have been strange. Meanwhile, Angel must have been making roots. But the wait was for realism, they had both agreed on that.
Husk stood up and went to open the door.
Angel was standing against the handrail. Husk gave him a little more than a glance. He looked at any point in the hallway, one never knew if Niffty was under the rug, or Alastor's shadow happened to be passing by, or Nuggets had managed to escape from Cherri and decided Angel had to give him his full attention for the next thirty-two hours.
Empty.
He forced himself not to rush. He never rushed anything, and sure he wasn't going to start now.
«Come on in.»
He gestured to Angel. The spider trotted over the threshold, and Husk closed the door behind him.
Maybe I should have asked if he was Mr. Dust, or some bullshit like that? The lock clicked, and Husk realized no one cared.
«Oh, finally!» Angel waved a hand. His voice was a little high-pitched. «I've been waiting out there for hours, I'm covered in spiderwebs! You really should-» His gaze fell on Husk.
His eyes flashed, and his whole face lit up with a light of its own.
«Oh, you are the doctor?» His voice became pure velvet. His hand closed, one finger at a time. «It was worth the wait. I can only imagine how busy you are.»
Husk looked at the clipboard in his hand. The paper was blank. «Yes. Very much so.»
There was no danger of Husk rushing anything, because his mind had slowed every thought with every centimeter of Angel his eyes rested on.
The white shirt was half a millimeter thicker than a transparent veil, sleeveless, half unbuttoned. The hem touched his lower arms. The pink line dividing his bust disappeared into the black half-lace bra that pushed as much fluff as possible out of the neckline. The pink miniskirt was a hip band so tight it was incredible Angel could walk in it, and so short that a small triangle of black fabric could be glimpsed.
«I hope you have some time for me, then.» Angel wrapped himself in his own arms. Bra and fluff were squeezed on three sides. No buttons went off because the first button was right under that soft cloud.
«All that you need.» Husk sat down but, more importantly, he managed to look away and move the gaze higher. «Have a seat.» He gestured to the chair. Angel sat down, straight, knees and ankles together and fists on the knees. «Tell me your symptomatology.»
Angel arched an eyebrow. His lips tightened, to try to stifle a laugh.
Husk stiffened, and not in a pleasant way. What?
«How formally you doctors talk.»
A wave of relief went down from the shoulders to the whole back, so intense Husk almost had to stifle a sigh. «Then I'll show you how we write.»
Angel snorted, a chuckle from his nose. Then his expression became brooding. «So, you see, doctor...» A hand rested on his chest, much to no one's surprise. «It's been a while now that my heart has been pounding very very fast.» He wrapped a bra cup. The curve of the pink heart design was glimpsed in the lacy crescent moon. «It happens randomly, and I don't know what to do.» He squeezed. Tufts of fluff popped up between his fingers.
Husk nodded. He scribbled something on the paper. After a second, he realized they were many circles, and that many of the circles were in pairs. «Must be tachycardia. If you're lucky, you won't die again any time soon.»
Angel choked.
He didn't die again of tachycardia, nor did he actually die again, but he did slam a fist into his mouth.
Husk stayed still. It was only half voluntary. His arms and hands were too stiff.
Angel caught his breath. «You're very straightforward, doctor.» The voice sounded amused, and behind the fist the lips were curled up.
The hands responded again, and so did the arms.
Husk almost felt like laughing, but he didn't. It was funnier that way, saying everything that came to his mind in the flattest voice possible - And for sure the eyes that were anything but disinterested.
«But it could be something else.» Husk put clipboard and pen on the desk. «We have to rule out all hypotheses.»
Angel shifted in his chair. He lifted the cup of his bra. «So, you'll help me, doctor?» His knees parted. White thighs and pink hip band framed black panties.
«I'm a doctor, it's my job.» Husk stood up. «I have to ask you to sit on the examination table and remove your shirt.»
«Of course, doctor.» Angel jumped up. The black cups jumped up too, and came back down. His hands flew to the buttons.
«Go slow. If it's tachycardia, you can't make these too-sudden movements.» He actually had no idea how tachycardia worked, but he could assume.
«Oh!» The unbuttoned shirt slid down his arms. Angel pulled it off and balled it up against his chest - In the center, the black cups and the white fluff between his arms and forearms. «I'm so sorry, doctor!» He shook the shirt and turned around. He bent to fold it on the chair. That too was something Husk could assume.
Don't. Bite.
He had to swallow. It was lucky he couldn't decide whether to sink his teeth into those thighs or into those half-exposed buttocks. Angel's panties followed the line of his flat groin. He had to have everything inside.
The pink band went back to cover badly. Husk looked up, and Angel sat down on the examination table. His feet touched the floor, but either that or Husk would have to climb up. He walked around the examination table instead, and put his stethoscope in his ears. The earpieces pressed harder than he expected.
«Now take slow and deep breaths.»
Angel breathed in - More than was necessary. The band and straps of his bra stretched more, sank into his skin.
Husk took the bell of the stethoscope and placed it on Angel's back.
«Ah!»
The squeal plunged into his ears. Husk had to blink a couple of times, but he could still hear it against his eardrums. «What?»
«It's icy.» The voice, and Angel, seemed to melt on the last word. «It's really really very icy.»
«You did well to inform me. Thank you.» Husk pressed the bell between the shoulder blades. Angel gasped. Husk didn't bother hiding his grin. Angel was turned around anyway, and sure he was imagining it very well.
The bell went up, vertebra by vertebra. It slid along the neck, up to where the hairline should have been.
Angel quivered. The neck curved backwards, the nape went down and touched his knuckles. The hair fell over his fingers.
Husk applied a light pressure. He stopped himself from curling two fingers and stroking the nape with his knuckles. «Sit up straight.»
A sigh sounded from beyond the earpieces. The hair came back up, the neck straightened. All four hands gripped the edge of the table. From back there, Husk saw both knees, spread. He glanced down. The hip band had rolled up, but the buttocks stayed covered.
The bell came back down, slid along the backbone, slowly covered every centimeter of it. It reached the band of the bra. Husk shifted the bell to the left, and a rapid, rhythmic rumbling echoed in his ears.
He pressed his free hand to the table, or he would have put it around Angel's waist and done something stupid like kiss him.
He ran the bell along the band instead, and stopped again at the vertebrae, above the hooks. He lowered it, and dragged the band. If he had reached out with one claw, he could have cut it - But Angel wouldn't have liked that. If he had reached out with two claws, he could have cut the straps - But Angel wouldn't have liked that either. He could also have pulled the straps down by hand, letting them fall down Angel's arms, but after all that wasn't what he had in mind. It would just be fun to pull down the bra and let the fluff pop out.
But it was also fun to pull it enough to squeeze it, to leave Angel with a thin breath for a few seconds.
The straps were tight enough to sting but not hurt. Angel opened his mouth. No labored breathing, just the slow, deep breath Husk had told him to take. One seemed to get stuck in his throat, but he didn't cough.
Husk took off the bell and the band went back up. Angel sighed. The band and straps dug into the skin again.
«Unfortunately, the situation is not clearer to me.» No shit, I only heard his heart for a few seconds! «I have to try from the front.» He took off the stethoscope from his ears and put it back around his neck. «Take off your bra.»
Angel whimpered. «I'm so worried, doctor, my hands are shaking!» He raised them, all four, to show their terrible nonexistent tremor. «You do it, please.»
Don't. Cut. Husk held back any impulse and pinned a claw in the hook. He managed to unhook one, and he managed to do the same with the other two because maybe a superior benign force existed. The two halves of the band separated, and that back was a waterfall of smooth white. He closed his hand into a fist. If he had caressed it, he would have ended up running his palm over Angel's hip, over his shoulder, through his hair, and his lips would have followed.
At that precise moment, Husk was struck by a very important thought, and he realized he was an idiot. If he had been in front, he would have seen the bra lose its tension and give in under the fluff, maybe with a bounce, or even just a sway!
He had to right the wrongs, and he had to do it now. He walked around the examination table again and reached Angel. The panties were still adhering to the groin. The bra, instead, was something that clearly shouldn't have been there. So he hooked it where the cups met, his finger sank into the softness, and pulled it down. No hypnotic movement, just the familiar heart design and a dusting of pink on that white cloud, and those alone would have been enough to melt him. Or harden him. And they did.
He tossed the bra onto the folded shirt and put the stethoscope back in his ears. «Same as before. Slow and deep breaths.»
Angel nodded, his expression serious. He breathed in again much deeper than he should have. His chest puffed out, in what seemed like an invitation.
Husk accepted it. He pressed the bell against his sternum. His half-closed hand rested on the softness, the fluff caressed his wrist.
That heartbeat again. The one that colored that chest and lit up those eyes, that echoed in his own ears and pushed Husk to hold him, kiss him, and say stupid things to him.
Husk swallowed a sigh. He moved the bell lower. He sank into the fluff, but not too much. His wrist yes, it was enveloped by that warmth. He rotated it, and the bell pressed against the softness. Only soft, no touch on his skin. He followed the outline of the shape left by the bra, stopped underneath and pressed as if trying to lift the entire non-tit. The fluff curved under the pressure, only in that spot. He ran along the outside, pushed sideways, and even there the only result he achieved was a tiny curve in one specific spot. The bell slid over the fluff, and he brought it to where the nipple would have been on an actual breast. He pressed, sank just enough to make the bell's outline disappear into the softness.
He shook his head, put the stethoscope back on his neck. «That's not feasible.» He grabbed the non-breast, the fluff filled his palm. «Your breasts are too big.»
«Oh, no!» Angel looked at his own chest, as if he had just discovered he had some big non-tits. He looked up, so shocked that for a moment Husk actually believed him. «And what can be done? These so huge, sexy, soft tits, with an improbable physique and ten-time winners of the Best Couple in Hell Award, condemn me to have no diagnosis?»
«Of course not.» In an absolutely professional way, Husk tightened his grip. In an equally realistic way, Angel leaned his chest toward him. «There's another way.» He rubbed his thumb over the softness. «But it's much more invasive.»
«It's not a problem, doctor.» A hand grabbed Husk's free wrist. The palm was pressed against Angel's white thigh. The fingertips brushed the waistband of the panties. Husk pulled his claws in. «Tell me.»
«As you may know,» He slipped a finger under the elastic. «lips are such a sensitive area of the body that they can be used as a medical instrument.»
Angel nodded, as if what he was saying made sense.
«So I'll have to feel your heart with mine.»
Angel nodded, dead serious. «And, just to ask.» One of the fingers holding the wrist rested on the one under the elastic. It pressed it downwards. Ridiculously soft fluff wrapped Husk's fingertip. «Which lips are we talking about?»
«All of them.» His voice came out as flat as it should, and Husk had yet another confirmation of why his field had been gambling. «In my case, the ones in my mouth, because I have no others.»
Maybe Angel had some talent for gambling, too. The soft tone he used and the look he gave him couldn't have been more different. «Whatever you have must be exceptional, doctor.»
The dark finger was no longer visible through the lace. It had disappeared behind the black fabric. Husk found no lips, no hardness, only softness and the unwillingness to move away. «Thank you, mister Dust.»
«I'm the one who doesn't know how to thank you for your immense sacrifice, doctor.»
Husk hadn't burst out laughing before, and he didn't burst out laughing now. One hand was squeezing a non-tit and another was in Angel's panties, he wouldn't destroy that moment, even if for sure his expression did crack very badly.
«Given the nature of the inspection, I advise you to make yourself more comfortable.» He lowered his gaze. «You may remove your skirt.»
«You're right, doctor.» Angel sighed. The fluff pressed against his palm. «It's actually a little tight.»
The sad moment had arrived. Husk managed to take off his hands from where they were, and realized how strong his will was. Angel jumped off the table, his vision got that little bounce it had lost shortly before, and that could only be a reward for the fortitude he had shown. White and pink fingers slipped into the hip band, Angel bent over and his buttocks were completely exposed. The black fabric, this time, wrapped around two curves and stretched further forward.
Don't. Tear. Husk swallowed again, maybe even more saliva. He followed Angel with his gaze, saw him bend over the chair to fold his skirt (Fold what?), fluff hanging down and wearing only boots and panties. Panties that with their half of lace showed how low the pink line went down, but without giving the satisfaction of the end.
Angel came back to the examination table, his hips swaying in a hypnotic way. «What do you want me to do, doctor?»
Husk omitted. «Lie down.»
Angel obeyed. Heels and boots' tips were sticking out from the table. The fur revealed that the sheet wasn't really white but a very light gray, and the pink and black stood out. The fluff didn't spread across his chest and stayed rounded, because it was fluff and not actual tits - But it had the same effect on Husk because he was a pervert, and they had both happily accepted that.
«It's important that you don't touch me or yourself. Keep your hands on the table.»
Angel raised two arms, stretched out the other two, and grabbed the examination table above his head and near his hips.
Husk took off his stethoscope and tossed it on the desk. He leaned over Angel. «If you feel any pain or if you feel uncomfortable,» He caressed his hair. «stop me. Right away. All right?»
A strange light illuminated those eight eyes. The cheeks flushed pink. «Yes.»
Husk pulled in the claws of his other hand too. The hands wrapped the fluff in two halves, following the shape of the bra. They squeezed, released and squeezed again. The fingers joined the thumbs, the hands rose again to arrange soft cylinders. They went down, came up, and ran their palms over them to flatten them, sank their fingers into them to bring back a messy cloud.
«What are you doing, doctor?»
«I'm preparing you. I'm not giving you a cold examination.»
«And why the right one too?»
Husk took the right non-tit from below. «Because by squeezing it I can enclose the sound of the whole chest.» He lifted it up and placed a kiss on the curve of the pink heart. Angel's giggle vibrated against his lips.
The other hand slid into the left one. Husk kissed the sternum, the fluff caressed both his cheeks. The hand on the right massaged, in small circles, the wrist rotating to press the palm along the whole soft curve, rounding it even more. The fingers on the left ran over the warm skin, and the pulse tapped his fingertips.
Then the forefinger and middle finger reached the nipple, and there Husk brought his mouth. Angel held his breath, his legs quivered. The tongue ran over the skin, the tip of the nipple slid in the center. The whimper echoed in the chest, along with the heartbeat, pushed against Husk's lips. The tongue ran again, and this time the hand on the left grabbed the curve of the fluff and pressed it against his cheek, tightened its grip. Husk opened his mouth, pressed his lips against the skin, and the tip of his tongue pressed against the tip of Angel's chest. The lips slid over the skin. His tongue wrapped the tip, pulled back and was replaced by his lips. They slid over the nipple, lingered on the tip. They placed a kiss there, parted, another kiss, his tongue teasing the bud, and then another kiss, open-mouthed. He drew his cheeks in, raised his head slightly to fill them again, then his teeth pressed against the skin - Gently, without hurting. They slid to the tip, grasped it, but didn't bite.
The fingers on the right sank into the fluff, the thumb and middle finger closed around the nipple. The thumb moved forward, the middle finger moved backward, and the thumb moved back, the middle finger moved forth. The forefinger rubbed over it, pressed. Then they pulled. The cheeks went in again. A moan echoed in his ears and in the chest. It hit his lips, his tongue, his brain, and crashed between his legs.
The fingers let go of their grip. The ones on the left reached his mouth. They slipped under his lips, and the thumb and middle finger caught the wet bud. They squeezed, the tongue brushed over the tip. They pulled. Another moan, and Angel's chest pushed against his mouth.
He squeezed his fingers on the other nipple again. He pulled both. Angel's legs flinched.
Husk raised his head, and everything seemed colder and with much more oxygen. He let go, and came back up with a sigh.
«And this» Angel sighed. His face was dusted with pink, his eyes bright. «helps you pick up the sound better?»
«No.» The concrete block stretching his pants kept him from laughing. It moved his hands, instead, to pulling again. «These are among the most sensitive areas of the body. I had to check what kind of reaction they had to external stimuli, and if it was the same on both sides.» He squeezed.
Angel whimpered. «So, what's the diagnosis, doctor?»
«Your breasts are very reactive.» He leaned over, kissed one tip, then the other. He opened his fingers and let go of them. «Your whole body is reacting in a healthy way. And I have finally isolated the problem dreading you.»
Angel blinked. «So? Please, tell me, doctor!»
«You have» Husk's gaze ran down Angel's whole body. It took a while, and it also slowed his thoughts. Those legs were very, very long, those panties tighter. He stopped himself from grabbing those hips, but traced the pink line with his eyes. The pink heart was still recognizable only because he knew what it was like. «the» When he met those eyes, the words rolled out of his mouth. «Stressing Stress Syndrome.»
Angel's eyes widened. He sat up straight away, his knees bent and his lower hands grabbed his non-tits as if they were about to fall off. (But that would have been too unholy even for Hell.) «Oh, no, that's horrible!» He slapped his upper hands on his cheeks. «Please, doctor, help me, I don't wanna have a disease with such a horrible name!»
Husk arched his eyebrows.
Angel grabbed Husk's hand with one of his lower ones. «A name like that evokes only terror and horror!» He brought it to his chest. «Please, free me from this dread!»
Husk didn't know whether to be offended, humiliated, or laugh, so he let himself be guided by the hand sunk in the softness and the cock stretching his boxers and pants.
«Luckily, the remedy doesn't involve medicines.» His gaze plummeted. With the knees bent, Angel's raised thighs were framing the bulge in the black fabric. «Do you want to know what the most effective and proven method is?»
Angel nodded. «Of course, doctor, that's more or less what I have asked you.»
«I have to cause you an orgasm.» His free hand went to Angel's thigh, above, but still close to the lace. «Or as many as necessary until you feel truly relaxed.»
Angel nodded, and almost looked like he was about to send his head flying. «Absolutely, doctor. What it takes, doctor.»
«Come back down, then.»
All Angel's hands let go of what they were holding, his legs stretched out again, and Angel lay back on the examination table. Husk moved lower. He stayed on the side.
«You have to remove your panties.»
«You do it, doctor.» Angel threw his upper arms over his head. His lower hands fell near his shoulders. «The news has deeply shocked me. I'm entirely in your magical hands.»
And so Husk, puffed up with honor for such trust and for so many other reasons, slipped his fingers under the elastic bands and slid the panties down those thighs. Angel's sex was certainly much less hard than the one in his boxers, but the tip was wet. The fabric ran along the boots, and was slipped off. He crumpled it in his hand, and he wasn't sure if the shiver was from the warmth that stayed there or from the dampness, with only the lace being completely dry. He put the panties in his pocket. «These are for check-ups.»
«Check-ups?» Angel arched an eyebrow. «Why my panties should tell you anything about the Stressing Stress Syndrome?»
Excellent question, but Husk's brain was now a slime of precise thoughts capable of great lucidity and logical sense. «I need to check what kind of fabric it is, how tight or loose the elastics are, and try to understand if these factors have affected the accumulation of stress in your body. This» He brushed the erection with his fingertips. Angel quivered. «is another sensitive spot.»
Angel bit his lip, stifling a laugh. «How wise you are, doctor!»
«Yes, that's because I'm a doctor.»
His fingers brushed the testicles. Angel took a slower breath, and Husk managed to take off his hand. He went to the desk and opened a drawer. «Same as before,» He emerged with a bright pink, one and a half liter bottle. He poured into his hand the equivalent of a medium-sized lake. It was more tending on cool than lukewarm, and that was amusing news. «this is an invasive procedure.» A strong strawberry scent filled the room in a few seconds, or at least where he was. He came back to the examination table, placed the bottle in balance on it. He caressed Angel's cheek with his dry hand. «If you feel any pain or if you feel uncomfortable, stop me.» He caught those pink eyes. «If there's any kind of problem, tell me.»
Angel shifted position on the table. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to look away. He didn't. «Otherwise the therapy won't work?»
«Exactly.»
Those lips curved upward a little. «Okay, doctor. I'll tell you everything right away ♡»
Husk let his lips mirror Angel's. But he didn't let them rest on there.
«Very good.»
He took the bottle again. And he noticed that no one had thought to bring a pillow. «One second.» He put the bottle down again, and disappeared behind the sheet hanging between two walls. He retrieved a pillow from his bed and came back to the side of the examination table - Everything with one hand, the other still dripping with lube, and by now he must have downpoured half his room. With his best poker face, Husk pressed the pillow under Angel's ass. «Lift your hips, and put this underneath.»
He ignored with great stoicism the giggle that came from above, and slipped in the pillow. When Angel lowered his hips, his legs parted. Husk swallowed saliva again, and it must have been as much as the lake he was carrying in his hand. He was suddenly very aware of the little ball of fabric and lace in his white coat pocket, and how actually close it was to his cock.
He tilted the bottle. The giggle from above choked into a whimper. The lube dripped between the buttocks, drops wetted the testicles.
Angel kicked in the air. «Cazzo, it's cold!»
«Sorry.» Husk lied, his laughter stifled behind an expression he knew was too satisfied. To emphasize his deep, nonexistent regret, he poured more lube. Angel squealed. A wet stain of fake strawberry spread on the pillow and wetted his buttocks. «I'll use a natural method.» Husk raised his hand, to show the natural methods attached to his palm, and made sure the claws were fully retracted.
Angel grinned. His gold tooth flashed. «Oh, doctor, I do love natural methods, especially when they're like this.» His fingers traced the edge of the examination table above his head. «How good you are, so nature-loving, so environmentally conscious!»
«That's because I'm an eco-friendly doctor.» Whatever that meant.
He closed the bottle and put it on the ground with little grace. He could finally grab Angel's hip with his dry hand, gentle but firm. His thumb rubbed the crook of the pelvis, went down to the most intense warmth. The middle finger of his other hand traced the crack of the buttocks, from the pillow to the opening, and pressed there. It stayed on the skin, caressing around it. Angel sighed.
«Exactly. You must keep taking slow and deep breaths.»
«As many as you want, doctor.»
Another sigh, dragged more than it should have, lower as the caress pressed into a massage. The wet thumb rubbed higher, between the opening and the testicles, until the movement followed the middle finger's.
The massage narrowed. Only then did it press in. It slid into the amount of lube, and the pad of Husk's finger became two phalanges. A deeper sigh, blended with Angel's voice, and his pelvis rotated toward Husk's hand. The middle finger moved in circles, bit by bit in wider movements, the thumb went down to massage the opening around the digit.
«Now relax.» Husk pulled his finger back, leaving only the pad. «It's essential.»
Angel glanced at him from under half-closed eyelids. «How could I not?»
«Excellent.» A caress along Angel's side, and the middle finger pressed again, and reached the knuckle.
Angel closed his eyes, in a sighing that raised his shoulders. His pelvis met Husk's fingers with every curve of the massage, as if he wanted to push the middle finger even deeper, and probably was like that.
So Husk pulled it back. When it was just the tip of his finger again, he pressed his forefinger against the opening. Angel opened his legs wider, Husk pushed his middle and forefinger in, and Angel could accommodate both only because he was trained.
(Angel had once told him «A single finger of yours is bigger than a lot of dicks I take, you know? ♡», and Husk had taken it as a great compliment. And compliments from a professional were always to be taken in great account.)
«You're responding well.» He opened his fingers. Angel whimpered. «Even if I feel more tension than expected.»
«Ah, yeah?» Angel's lips curled into a sneer. «I'm that tight, doctor?»
Husk moved his fingers in circles, both inside and outside. He opened again, and again Angel let his voice escape from his throat. «It's not a matter of tightness. It's a matter of tension.» Which could only have made sense at that moment, and it even didn't.
He curled his fingers, and in doing so they sank even deeper. He raised his hand, the other just resting on it. Those hips rose in turn, and the whimper broke into a moan. The erection was completely hard, and the drops cannot have been just lube. Husk's fingers curled more, opened, and there was another cry that heated him too much between his legs. He brought Angel's pelvis back down, laid it gently on the pillow, his fingers stretched, came out only to go back in. His wrist pressed against the swollen testicles.
Husk leaned over Angel. «I have to check how you're doing.»
Angel had closed his eyes. One of the larger ones cracked open. «You do a lot of check-ups, doctor.»
«That's because I'm a competent doctor.»
«And for that I can never be grateful enough.»
Husk's dry hand grabbed the left non-tit. He groped it for no reason, then two fingers scissored the fluff, revealing the nipple. He leaned in, and this time it was a kiss of lips only - First the tip, then the side, then everything.
And he could feel it, the heartbeat. It was hammering against his mouth, so loud it echoed in his ears. If he was sure that what he felt against his lips was Angel's, he couldn't say the same about the one in his ears. And, maybe, Angel was hearing it too.
He pressed his ring finger against the inside of the buttock, in a silent question. Angel's pelvis rose to push against him. The roundnesses and the erection almost burned against his palm and wrist. The ring finger pushed inside, was squeezed by the other two fingers, and a moan covered the heartbeat. The grip loosened, but didn't relax. It tightened again, more, but this time the fingers came back to move, to massage, resurface and sink again. They opened.
Claws on his back.
Husk raised his head, a pressure on the nape made him come back down. The hand on his back squeezed his coat, the fingers on the nape tugged at his hair.
«You shouldn't touch me.» He murmured it against Angel's chest, lips against the skin. «I told you.»
«Did I invalidate everything?» A hint of amusement.
«No.» He placed another kiss on the nipple, even if he would have wanted to feel lips, tongue, and breath. «You're too good of a patient.»
That giggle again, again in his ears and against his mouth. His free hand grabbed Angel's waist, thumb and forefinger almost touching each other. The fingers stopped massaging. They opened, closed, and sank, almost to the knuckles. They came out to the tips, and pushed in again. The body under him followed those movements, up and down, but from where he was he couldn't see how those white and pink shapes swayed, and those hands that were crushing him forced him to follow.
When Angel's sighs faded into whimpers, melted into moans, Husk had to press his groin against the side of the examination table. He felt something else, and realized it was Angel's fingers, and Angel had to realize what was crushing them against the edge of the table. They didn't go to touch him, and it was a surprise, or maybe it was an act of mercy.
It was his fingers that were crushed, with more strength. He raised his head. «Tell me when you're about to-»
«I'm about to cumming, my well-endowed eco-friendly doctor!»
Husk stifled his laughter in Angel's chest. He rushed to get back up, his cheeks aching too much, but he had a much more important urgency. Angel's hands let go of him, and he missed them right away. He came back down. He pushed again, wrapped the testicles with his palm and cupped the erection with his other hand. His fingers sank again, gripped in searing warmth, and his other hand got wet too, with hot and white. He followed Angel's hips into the orgasm, semen dripping onto the cock from both the tip and his hand. When the grip around his fingers loosened, when he felt Angel relax his movements until they almost stopped, he took off both hands.
«How are you?»
Angel was breathing with his mouth open. His flushed chest rose and fell quickly, but for some reason Husk's gaze fell on the hand caressing the pink line, from where it curved into a heart to just above the groin.
«Good.» Angel's hand fanned out over his crotch, a few centimeters from the wetness. «Your hands are truly magical, doctor.»
Magical hands soaked with now-lukewarm lube and warm semen. Husk went to the desk, opened the drawer with his elbow, and pulled out a towel. He cleaned himself. He used that and not his tongue because he wanted to keep enjoying Angel's orgasm without cumming in his boxers.
«That's great news.» He tossed the towel on the desk. «Do you feel better? That you're cured?»
«Cured? Not that, doctor!» Angel shook his head, outraged, so forcefully that even his non-tits bounced. «You've given me some relief, but I feel that the horrific Stressing Stress Syndrome is still gripping my poor heart!» Just in case they both had forgotten where the heart was, he squeezed his non-tit.
Husk nodded. «As I thought. It's an acute form.» He wouldn't have cleaned Angel up, at least not yet. After all, he had "prepared" him. He could do something for Angel's sex, though. It didn't have to stay wet. He reached into his pocket, fished out the panties, and wrapped them around Angel's pink and white cock. He ran them over the skin, dabbed, and to no surprise lace and wet fabric didn't dry anything.
«What are you doing?» A note of genuine confusion.
«I told you. This is a very delicate area. I don't know what effect a towel would have.» Maybe it could even have (Oh, no!) dried him.
«And this won't compromise the results of the panties checks?»
«On the contrary, I'll be able to compare your semen before and after the start of treatment.»
Angel sighed, or maybe he laughed, or maybe both. «Forgive me for having doubted you, doctor, you're so resourceful!»
«Because I’m a very cultured doctor.» What he had just said? Well, who gave a shit. He put the panties back in his pocket, and dried his hands again on the towel. He reopened the drawer and took out a bottle of water. He brought it to Angel. «Drink. I think you need it.»
Angel sat down. He didn’t jump, he moved slowly, and slowly took the bottle.
«We need to pass to the medical device.» Angel gave him back the bottle, and Husk placed it on the ground. «That's what I prepared you for, in case one orgasm wasn’t enough. It has an efficacy of ninety percent.»
Angel came back down, his movements delicate and elegant, even if the breathing was only then starting to slow down. «What it is, doctor? It's something scary?»
«It seems to be very appreciated, actually.» Husk came back to the drawer and took the medical device out of the package. It was room temperature, and he could accept that. Bright magenta, the diameter of the water bottle, Angel could have held it in three hands and still not covered the tip.
He showed it to Angel. Those pink eyes filled with stars like a slot machine jackpot.
«It's the Vibrating Suppository.»
Angel died. Or rather, he pressed two hands on his eyes and bit his lips not to burst into laughter. His legs kicked in the air.
«Do you understand why I had to prepare you?» Husk retrieved the bottle of lube. «It's not something everyone can handle.»
Angel lowered his hands. His shiny eyes sparkled on his red cheeks. «Oh, no, doctor, absolutely! It's so big! And it looks so hard! And it has such a vibrant color!»
«Unfortunately, we don't have the pill or the effervescent powder yet.»
«Don't worry, doctor, I would have chosen the suppository anyway.»
Of course. «Tell me when you're ready.»
Angel's lips parted in a very frightened expression. «Oh, doctor, don't wait!» The back of his hand flew to his forehead. «Every second is another second for the horrible Stressing Stress Syndrome!»
Of course. «You're very brave in wanting to undergo therapy so fast.»
Angel bit his lip. «You don't know how much I crave certain something, doctor.»
And so Husk was left wondering about the direct object. He came back to the end of the examination table, and Angel's boots landed gracefully at the corners. Husk drowned the Suppository medical device in the strawberrish lube. He had the extraordinary idea of throwing the bottle into his white coat pocket rather than doing squats, since he was no longer young enough for such follies.
He turned the Suppository vibrator on to one, and the electric buzz filled the air. «Once again, I remind you that you can and must stop me at the slightest hint of discomfort.»
Angel narrowed his gaze. «I remember that, doctor.» One leg lifted. The boot-covered ankle rubbed Husk's cheek. «You made it very clear.»
Husk was sure his own smile was a sneer. He took the ankle with his free hand and placed it on his shoulder. The tip of the vibrator pressed against the opening. It traced around, stopped in the center, and passed around again.
Angel shifted on the examination table, with a sigh. «You can increase the power, doctor. You've prepared me so well.»
«It would be against the procedure.» Because there's a procedure. But he obeyed, and the tip pushed in. Angel buried his head in the table. The vibrator moved in a circle, against the opening, inside. The heel dug into the shoulder blade. Husk turned the vibration up to two. He pushed deeper, rotated his wrist. He pulled back, rotated again and plunged again. «I told you. Relax. It’s at the basis of the therapy.»
Angel gave him an amused look. His upper hands were thrown over his head, hanging over the examination table. His lower hands rubbed the sheet, slow, almost lazy. «You don't come» Husk breathed in more deeply. «to check my heartbeat, doctor?» He puffed out his chest, flushed red, his fluff disheveled, and terribly inviting.
Husk breathed out, and came out a faint voice. «Not in this case.» He tightened his grip. «I have to take care of this.» And he had Angel's leg on his shoulder. He turned the vibration up to three.
The tip of the other boot jerked - Only to dig itself further into the corner. Husk began to feel the vibration even through the boot gripped in his hand, and only a dimwit wouldn't have thought it would have come between his legs too. Then he saw that tremor on the testicles, on the erection hard again, and his hand pushed forward - And the finger slipped on that molasses of lube, and the three darted past the four to crash into the five.
A high-pitched moan, and Angel's upper hands gripped the edge of the table. He squeezed his eyes shut, his back arched, but his pelvis kept going toward the vibrator.
Husk had to close his eyes. A squeal, a whimper, then a moan and another whimper, and every tremor in Angel's voice stuck itself in his brain, in his heart and in his cock.
Maybe he could have unbuttoned his pants. Just that, and nothing else.
No, he knew how it would have ended - That is, it would have ended.
If his hand had gone there, it would have gone down to pull down the zipper.
Maybe he could have done it. Open button and zipper to relieve the pressure, let the bulge out, leave it covered by his boxers.
No. He wouldn't have gotten the slightest relief, if not cumming in his underwear, and that wouldn't have been much of a relief anyway.
Maybe he could have finished it, instead. Unbutton his pants, pull down the zipper, pull out the cock, jerk off to those broken moans and cum on that pink and white fur - Maybe on the fluff.
No. They had decided to play? And then they would have finished.
He opened his eyes and pumped the vibrator with sharper thrusts. Angel had thrown his head back. He whimpered, and it was a set of words. His heel tapped against Husk's shoulder.
Husk understood because yes, he let go of the ankle and took the erection.
His fingers closed, and a warm shot wetted them even more. Much less than before, and it would have been strange the opposite. He held the erection tightly and kept pushing the vibrator through the final wave of the orgasm. When Angel's pelvis slowed, Husk turned it down to four. It became three, then two, stayed at one for a few seconds more, and turned the vibrator off. He pulled it out slowly, and felt the shiver that ran through Angel on his palm - He heard it, when it faded into a whimper.
«How are you?» Husk's voice was hoarse, and he was almost surprised by it.
Angel looked back at him. His eyes were glassy, his face and chest flushed a rosy red. «Doctor...» He bent his knee. His boot slipped off the shoulder. The heel, however, went to press against Husk's chest. Husk was thankful that sole was there and Angel wasn't touching him directly, for more than one reason. «I cannot tell you.» It slid downward. «I have to think about it, doctor.»
Husk understood again, and had to take a step back. He left the wet sex, and let the vibrator rain into the pocket of his white coat. «As long as you want, mister Dust.» He would not have left his cock at the mercy of that heel. Not if there was a chance Angel would want more anytime soon.
He brought him water again, instead. Angel accepted it without sitting down.
«Rest. Let me know when I get back. If you have any problems, call me. I'll hear you.»
That said, Husk came back behind the hanging sheet and beat a retreat to the bathroom. He washed his hands with ice water, then ran it over his wrists, his arms, up to his elbows. He slapped it on his face, and for no correlation at all he felt like he was breathing better.
He left the Suppository on the sink. They would take care of it later.
He ignored the toilet paper, the towels, the shower- He left the bathroom, because he wasn't ignoring them.
If I'm gonna jerk off, it won't be in the bathroom. But he would not have done it, unless Angel had asked him to.
He came back to him. Angel handed him back the water, and Husk decided to try such an unfamiliar drink. It wasn't cold enough, but it seemed to help. When he lowered the bottle, he broke the silence. «So? Do you feel cured?»
Angel blinked slowly. «Doctor...» He reached out a hand. He caressed Husk's cheek. «I'm afraid I need something stronger.»
Husk nodded knowingly. «You're one of the ten percent who doesn't get cured with the medical device.»
Another hand went to the other cheek, and Angel brought him to lean toward him. «Can you help me, doctor?»
«Of course.» Husk covered Angel's hand with his own. «I'm a doctor.»
Angel tried not to laugh. He smiled, though, and Husk's mind emptied of all anxiety from that moment to forever. Maybe not, but at that moment he thought so.
With a sigh, Husk separated from him. He went to the drawer for the umpteenth time and pulled out another towel. Wait, how much stuff is in here? Since the last time he had questioned the capacity of something it was about Angel's soft balcony, he decided to just accept it.
He also decided to go to the base of the examination table, between those spread legs, in an all-in. He took off the pillow from under Angel and tossed it to the floor. He wrapped Angel's buttocks in the towel and dabbed. He didn't focus too much on the opening. He dabbed the hectoliters of lube and sperm off the curves of that ass, those thighs.
«Here's too sensitive for a towel.» And with yet another bullshit, Husk lowered his face between those legs. «Do you want to try it anyway or do you prefer the natural method?»
Angel's eyes widened. He pushed his pelvis toward Husk. «It's a very raspy natural method, doctor?»
«Very.»
Angel bit his pinky nail. He bared his teeth in a grin. «Natural me all over, doctor.»
So Husk obeyed. He licked the soft sex, from tip to crotch, and his tongue tasted strawberry, and above all Angel. A tickled pink squeal, and those heels tapped on the table.
The towel-covered hands grabbed Angel's thighs, pulling him down there. The knees bent completely, so Husk didn't have to lie down on the table again, and he went back to the important things. He kissed the tip, his lips slid over it and caught the glans. His cheeks pulled in, his tongue propped up the slit, and the only taste was just Angel. He opened his mouth, his tongue slid under Angel's length, slipped between it and the testicles, and lifted the cock. Husk let it go deeper, the tip touched the palate, and he sucked that flavor again. It wasn't soft anymore. It wasn't erected yet, but he didn't have to support it with his tongue anymore.
He wrapped it in his cheek, his tongue slid down to caress the testicles. He freed it, placed a kiss at the base, and his tongue ran over the roundnesses beneath. There, there was more strawberry than Angel, but that was fine too. He kissed them. The cock quivered against his cheekbone.
And, most importantly, it was erected again. He rewarded it with a caress of his tongue, from the base to the tip, there he found it wet again. He kissed the drops away, but the tip got wet again.
«I should clean you.» He looked up at Angel. «But you’re in my way.»
Angel clicked his tongue, with a grin. «I can’t help it. It’s all natural stuff, doctor.»
Another kiss on the tip, not useless because it drew out a pleasant whimper. «Anyway, I confirm that your body is extremely reactive. Especially your breasts and genitals. So,» A kiss halfway up Angel's length. «since so far the opposite has had no effect, I give you permission to touch yourself.»
«Oh.» Angel's lower hands slid down his belly, his groin, then parted to cover the fingers that gripped his thighs. «And I can touch you too, doctor?»
A kiss, between the hardness and the roundnesses. «I don’t see why not.»
«Oh.» The upper hands spread themselves on the fluff. «You're so kind, doctor!»
The only response Husk gave him was to take the erection back into his mouth.
And his throat vibrated.
Angel moaned, high-pitched and so loud it almost echoed in the room. The tip was pushed against the palate, Angel's flavor became more intense. The cock throbbed against Husk's tongue and lips, each pulse traced each vein more and more swollen. The white and pink fingers slipped into the fluff, squeezed. A pressure on the nape, and Husk was crushed against Angel's groin. He breathed in, managed not to let the tip end up in his throat, and instead filled himself with strawberry and above all with Angel.
He let go of those thighs, the towel fell down. He raised his head, and the pressure of his hand immediately disappeared. Angel gave him a confused look, his eyes half-closed and his mouth open.
Husk got up. «For that ten percent who don't get cured with-» He caught his breath. His voice was broken, his lips too dry for where they had been. His shoulders were lighter, but his hands went to the button on his pants. «There's another medicine. Alternative. By direct administration.»
Angel nodded, his gaze followed Husk's hands. «Administer, doctor.»
The button almost popped, the zipper went down because it wouldn't take Husk long to rip it. He clawed at his pants and boxers and pulled them down just enough. The relief disappeared in the urgency. He somehow found the pink bottle, he poured it on himself and poured it on the ground too. He had dabbed the opening only on the outside, so he was completely embraced in just two thrusts. Angel moaned at both, the second one higher and more shrill, almost a scream, and moaned a third time when he caught his breath.
The wings spread wide, flapped, and stretched out. The tail slammed to the ground. Husk grabbed Angel's hips, pulled him up, pressing him against himself more than could have been possible. Those buttocks ground against his groin, along with a whimper, and a moan too close to be Angel's. Angel's legs stretched upward, ridiculously long, crossed, and the ankles locked behind his neck.
Husk pressed Angel's hips against himself, supporting him, the table jerking unsteadily under his own thrusts. If that had collapsed, Husk would have hugged Angel against him and would have kept to sink into him - Maybe he should have backed up to the wall. No, he would have collapsed like the table and would have continued sitting down. Angel wouldn't have to worry, Husk would have found a surface to lean on to support him.
The creaking became more insistent, but the table didn't seem like it was going to give in. It went forward and came back, of more and more centimeters, in fewer and fewer seconds, like the non-tits, like the cock.
A white and pink hand squeezed half a pink heart. Another ran through Angel's hair, stopped, tugged.
Husk's gaze got lost in everything. And he noticed Angel's was wandering over his face, going down to where their bodies joined, and then came back up, behind him, and was embracing him with a beautiful gaze.
The wings flapped, then spread fully. Rustling of feathers, and a low sound slipped from Husk's throat and maybe got lost in there, or maybe not, because it seemed those pink eyes shone brighter. He drew a moan from that mouth, and that voice took on a growl from his, and Husk let his entire body melt in that wonder.
He felt himself being squeezed, tighter, and sank again with his final thrusts. And he felt wet warmth on his stomach, saw it on Angel's. He ground himself into him, Angel ground himself against him. His legs were heavy, but they stayed firm. His grip on those hips became more delicate, his palms cupped those buttocks as well.
When he felt Angel relax, he brought him back down. He sighed, a slow and deep breath, and let go of him. He pressed his hands to the table for support, and his legs felt a bit of relief. Angel's boot-covered ankles weighed on his neck, but it didn't matter. He stayed in that warmth, didn't close his eyes because they were feasting on the sight of Angel.
«How do you feel?» No longer flat, his voice smudged with something, a little more than a whisper.
Angel's hand in his own hair slid down his neck, his collarbones. It left a trail in the veil of sweat. «You're amazing, doctor.» The fingers that had held the non-tit toyed with the tufts of fluff. «I don't feel it anymore. The horrible stressing syndrome. Now my heart is pounding really really fast for something beautiful.» He sighed. It sounded absent-minded, and only because Husk refused to think dreamily. «You cured me, doctor. You really are a magician.»
Husk caressed Angel's knee. «And you're a wonderful patient.»
It was stupid, but that bullshit Angel had said had had a strange effect in his chest. Even if stupid, though, it was a pleasant thought. Maybe he could indulge in it.
He pulled his hips back, but Angel's legs opened again and closed around his waist. They pulled him closer, and Husk let himself be caught.
«You have to keep an eye on me.» Angel reminded him, very attentive. «In case there are any adverse effects.»
«True.» Husk's hands ran over the sheet, dark fingers interlaced with pink and white ones.
Angel closed his eyes, Husk didn't. Angel's breathing had slowed, and it almost seemed as if their shoulders were rising and falling at the same time.
Husk didn't go to check Angel's heartbeat. After all, he was cured. And Husk wouldn't have heard it, covered as it would have been by the much closer chaos. Or maybe his own heartbeat would have had strange reactions to hearing an identical one.
It was only when Angel's legs became weaker and fell on the sides that Husk pulled out. He took the boots back to the table, and Angel pushed himself up, stretching out. Husk retrieved the towel, gave himself a quick clean, and fixed his clothes. He went to the side of the table and leaned over Angel.
«I don't see any adverse effects.»
«Good.» Angel blinked, slowly. «Good to know.»
Maybe it was Husk who leaned in, maybe it was Angel who leaned up, maybe both. Their lips finally had the others, the tongue caressed the other, accompanied by a moan, by a low sigh, from one or both. They moved away without actually doing it, only to abandon themselves once more to the other's mouth. Maybe it wasn't just once.
The moment came when Husk had to pull away more than he would have wanted. «Go take a shower. Or a bath, if you want. Take all the time you need.» He handed him the bottle of water.
Angel took it, but didn't get up or drink. «And you do it with me?»
«I would never dare invade your privacy.»
Angel burst out laughing. Husk let go of any pretense of seriousness, because it had never existed anyway.
And it went without saying that if they had entered that bathroom together at that moment, the Hotel would have quickly reported them missing.
«You'll find the towels in the bathroom.» About twenty, and Husk had no idea neither why nor above all how he had a tower of towels in the bathroom, but he had sheets nailed to the walls, so he didn't ask questions.
«All right, doctor.» Angel sat down, and did it as if he were on a stage in front of a pole. It was exaggerated but it was beautiful, and Husk was an idiot, but not so idiot to complain about gifts from Heaven.
That's why Heaven blessed him with the vision of those swaying hips, reddened buttocks that had filled the voice with pleasure, wet whiteness of both of them.
It filled Husk's head for several minutes, maybe quite a few, the splashing of the shower in the background since who knows when.
Husk came back to the present, and decided to do something with his existence. He balled up the sheet that had covered the examination table and threw it on the floor, over the pillow. He resisted the temptation to clear the desk top just because the objects weren't close enough to the edge. Twinges in his back announced to him a night lying still and a likely morning in which flapping his wings would tear him from neck to ass, but he regretted nothing. And if Angel had offered to use his six hands-
It appears that it was his turn to wait. Except he could hear how the sound of the water changed depending on how Angel moved. He couldn't hear it anymore, but he knew it was just for soaping. He drank the water from the bottle and finished it. Not that there was much left. The shower water started to pour down again. Husk plumped down into the chair (A twinge hit his neck, but he pursed his lips and refused to squint) and retrieved the clipboard, and that was a terrible idea, because he began to reconsider the idea of helping Angel wash.
The water was turned off, this time as a conclusion. Rustling of towels, clacking of claws on the mat, on the floor. Then the hair dryer. For quite a lot.
Then Angel left the bathroom.
His hair looked incredibly soft, a white cloud. He was wrapped in a towel, in the sense that a towel covered his stomach and hips. The other white cloud was in plain sight, and it hadn't pulled anything in.
«Thank you for letting me use your shower, doctor.» He opened the towel. Everything visible was finally brought together by the pink line.
«No worries.» Husk leaned back against the seat. No twinges, and any soreness faded into the fore, back, no ground. A drink would have been nice, or even just a cigar. Angel was a sight even when he got dressed, especially if he did it in front of him.
When his bra, skirt, and shirt went back to cover him badly, Angel ran his hands through his hair, fixing it.
«There's a problem, doctor.» He caressed his hips. «I don't think I can put the panties I came with, for now.»
Husk nodded. They were still in his pocket, untouched because the bathroom had been occupied. «They aren't in the condition to be worn. I'll wash them after the check-ups and give them back to you next time.»
Angel's eyes widened. «Next time?» He got closer, so utterly shocked he didn't even sway his hips. «I thought I was cured!»
«I need to make sure there's no relapse.» Husk reached out and caressed Angel's thigh. «And we'll have to consider if it's necessary to do more orgasm sessions or continue with the administrations.»
«Oh!» Angel slapped his hands together. «You're so thoughtful, doctor!» He leaned over him. «Allow me to return all this generosity!»
«Mh?»
«You know,» Angel cupped Husk's face in his hands. «you're so devoted to your job that I wouldn't want you to develop the Stressing Stress Syndrome. Now that you've shown me how to eradicate it, I can help you with prevention.» He gave him a peck on the tip of his nose. «I forgot to tell you something earlier. I'm a nurse.» He kissed him. When he moved away, his lips were curved upward, his eyes bright with so many things and all beautiful. «I'll be waiting for you, doctor.»
Husk began to feel the first symptoms. Just like that, at random.
He cupped Angel's cheek in his hand. «Make me an appointment as soon as possible, nurse.»