This is the sequel to my previous story, co-written a decade ago: The Specialist
Here's the link: s/2040990/1/The-Specialist
The Specialist 2: the Patient
Headache.
One hell of a Rah-damned massive headache. Splitting his brain in two. No, four. Or rather sixteen. Sixteen million pieces...Malik could not recall a time when he felt so much skull pain.
He tried to open his eyes, but his heavy eyelids refused to obey him. He tried again, harder, even though this effort just made the pain even worse; a fine, blurry, neon-white light appeared in front of him for a short moment before disappearing again. A low, frustrated growl escaped his throat.
To-dom...To-dom...To-dom...
Like a gentle lullaby, a soft and constantly repetitive rythm echoed in his ears: he could hear his own heartbeat, calm and steady. His bed was warm, very warm, and comfortable, perfectly adjusted to the shape of his body. He nuzzled his face in his pillow, wanting to scratch his nose – scratch his whole face in fact – a ritual he was doing everytime he was waking up, as if this simple gesture would chase all the remnants of his sleepiness away.
He froze as he suddenly realised his head was not at all laying on a pillow. The smell was different. Not at all unpleasant, but it wasn't the usual smell of the laundry detergent he used. He could FEEL his own pulse accelerating and getting stronger, his heart crashing harder as doubt and insecurity made his adrenaline-filled blood rushed through his body, while the heartbeat he was HEARING was still calm, unaltered, its tempo not changing at all.
Malik's eyes flew open. Memories of the past hours suddenly filled his clouded mind: his crazy sister Isis, her more-than-crazy assistant Bakura, and the sligtly- less-crazy-but-still-crazy lab technician Ryou. And all the crazy things he did himself: his rear, protesting with slight pain, clearly reminded him how he impaled himself on the doctor's hard-on...among many other crazy things.
"Oh, you're awake! How wonderful!"
A soft voice reached Malik, as a fine hand pressed delicately on his shoulder. But as soft as the voice was, the tanned boy cringed, remembering that these exact same words have been, earlier, pronounced by a mad doctor, whose features look quite the same as the young one's just in front of him. As if the two men were connected, body and mind. And that confused and annoyed Malik to the very core.
As his body slowly retracted from the numbness of its sleep, Malik got his upper body up, putting some distance betwen him and the still-sleeping LSD-addicted medic beneath him.
"Uh...my..my head..." he winced with difficulty, with a scratchy voice. The inside of his mouth was pasty, as if he chewed on a tube of glue. He grasped his head with both hands, the unbearable pain still ringing sharply in his skull.
"Here. Drink this," he heard Ryou spoke as he approached a tiny paper cup filled with cold water. Again, an immense feeling of deja-vu overwhelmed the young egyptian who was now wondering if it was Ryou, and not Bakura, who performed the previously weird examination on him. Malik took the cup and drank gladly while, in the corner of his eye, he cautiously watched the psycopath doctor. Soundly asleep, Bakura had his head resting on the back of one hand, the other one laid abandonned on his stomach. With his face angled downward, eyes closes behind a fair curtain of black eyelashes, his face framed with pale and fluffy hair, Bakura looked exactly like Ryou. He's beautiful when he sleeps, he remembered Ryou's earlier comment about his superior. He looks like an angel.
He couldn't agree more with Ryou...but, as he frowned, he quickly shook away these thoughts.
"Your headache...It's just the medications...they can leave a nasty hangover-like feeling...but it's nothing to fret about," he heard Ryou mumbled as he was searching for the garbage can to dispose of the useless and empty paper cup. "I was quickly back on my feet, after my first time" he added, more for himself.
Malik gulped. Ryou had been dropping those last words with such detachment, in a tone so mundane it made the tanned teen really doubt of Ryou's sanity. He was always so careful about his health, refusing to smoke with his previous boyfriend, not drinking alcohol, working out at the gym, having a meat-free diet...Hearing the other boy say "Yeah, my boss drugs me once in a while" so casually... he couldn't compute it. In fact, nothing about this place felt right if illicit substances were not used.
He shifted very slowly off the examination table, making great efforts to not wake up Bakura, and swiftly moved into another part of the office. The last thing he wanted was to awake him, resulting in an akward confrontation with a maniac who manipulated hypodermic needles better than a Master Jedi waving his light saber. Or rather, a Sith Lord; he didn't doubt the mad doctor would belong to the Dark Side. For a flashy second, he had the image of his older sister, cladded in the Emperor's dark cloak, while Bakura was kneeling in front of her, saying in a deep, robotic voice "Yes, Master. –insert here mecanical breathing noises."
Because for every apprentice, there was a master. And that he learned not only from having Lishid forcing him to watch the six StarWars movies with him.
For a moment, he wondered if his own sister could really be part of this twisted manigance. ..But didn't he see her ways himself? The way she was hovering over his body, bending over to kiss her trainee as he was "inspecting" him in that perverted way? The way she was touching him, brushing her fingers on his skin? The way she was talking to him, the "dear, lovely, beautiful little brother" ? The way she was not even CARING if he was tied up – all naked! - on that table? Not only was she not caring, she was actually ENJOYING it! And how she seemed to approve every of Bakura's sick manipulation, even the use of that overly fucked up and fucking COLD specu-whatever instrument? He opened his palms, realizing he has been tightly clenching his fists for the last seconds. 'Sister-dear...how could you?' he thought.
"My clothes..." he then said absently, extending a bronzed hand, letting his lavender eyes lay on the floor rather than on his friend. Why did he feel that way? Not wanting to look at the other boy while they shared the same misery?
"Here!" Oblivious to Malik's uneasiness, the white-haired boy cheerfully brought his neatly-folded black cargos, his black undershirt and his purple top, and even his black socks and boots. "But...I couldn't find your underwears though." Ryou's eyes scanned the office for a moment before resting on his friend again.
"Nevermind", the other boy answered under his breath as he started to dress, still avoiding every eye-contact with the other teen.
Could it have been the drugs? It has been so easy, so NATURAL, to be all about Ryou some hours ago, to want to have sex with him, to FORCE him to have sex with him, when he was filled with aphrodisiacs and valliums...but now that the effects of that weird viagra-like potion was out of him, everything felt different. He was not the type of guy to push down another one on his knees and blackmail him – oh, he did do some serious blackmailing in the past, but never to get sexual favors. He was, in fact, still profoundly grieving the recent and sudden breakup from – he mentally sighed – from Jonouchi, and he didn't had any intentions to get another partner this soon. Yet he perfectly remembered he told Ryou he could live with him and his sister...
A grimace deformed his pretty face. For a moment, he thought HE should be the one living with Ryou.
This time, the discouraged sigh he let out was not only in his head.
"Malik, what's wrong?" Ryou came quickly beside him, visibly worried. A gentle hand on his forearm, a soft stroke over his blond locks. "Are you okay? You should not worry about the medicines, they dont-"
"I'm not worried about that," Malik cut him off quickly, annoyance clearly tainting his voice as he was buckling the belt around his hips, his attention focused on some dull detail of his buckle.
"Then...?" The white-haired assistant tried to take Malik's hand, but the blond boy purposely snatched it out of the way, even turning his back to Ryou. Behind him, he heard the lab technician let out a small, almost inaudible, heartbroken gasp.
"I...I just dont feel that great," Malik said as shame and guilt overflowed him. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Ryou...Ryou who he owned a serious apology for the forced blowjob, Ryou who tried his best to hide him away from Bakura, Ryou whose now trembling body was on the verge of tears...But on the other hand, Malik just couldn't shake off his own feeling: as of right now, all he wanted was to get out of this clinic. Sorting out his head while taking a ride on his motorcycle was probably the best thing to do. That, and overdosing on Advils.
"I'll give you a call," he added before storming out of the office.
"Malik...wait!" Ryou cried behind him.
But Malik didn't turn around. He WILL call. Later. But first things first: OUT.