[PLEASE NOTE: THERE WILL BE MULTIPLE INTENSE AND GRAPHICALLY DEPICTED SEX SCENES THROUGHOUT THIS STORY. The A/N at the beginning of each chapter will give trigger warnings so that readers know what will happen and when. If readers are uncomfortable with certain sexual acts, the passages will be identified before each reading so as to be looked over. However, no true sex scenes have started to happen until this chapter. When I say this, I mean that this chapter opens with a sex scene.
*For anyone that has watched BBC's Merlin, you might notice that I have made Jethro Cane the partner of Arthur Penn, a common AU name for Arthur Pendragon centered fics. Yes, I am going to involve them intimately in this story. Yes, I am going to involve them both together and separately with Rose/Belle/Blondie. Yes, this does mean a threesome (or possibly more some) in future chapters. Yes, it will be/has all been consented. And yes, I will be making them all kinky fuckers (literally and metaphorically).
Also, this is a bisexual friendly fic written by a (can be) friendly bisexual, so if you have any issues with that, I suggest you leave.
Anyways.. I'm stuck, and inspiration only got me this far, but I haven't posted in almost a year and it needed to be done. I HOPE TO BE BACK SOON.
*Despite the title, Rose will be working mainly as Belle, the escort.
*WARNINGS: a suicidal hospital patient cock rings, light sub/dom, the phrase "vaginal sex"]
"Besides, you've written a little, but in secret. And it wasn't good, because it was in secret, and because you punished yourself for writing, because you didn't go all the way; or because you wrote, irresistibly, as when we would masturbate in secret, not to go further, but to attenuate the tension a bit, just enough to take the edge off. And then as soon as we come, we go and make ourselves feel guilty – so as to be forgiven; or to forget, to bury it until the next time."
- "The Laugh of the Medusa" by Hélène Cixous
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-"
"Don't you dare cum! Do you see this?" The man uses his hand not currently stripping his cock raw to finger the leather cuff wrapped around its root. At the answering whine, he continues, "'Till this comes off, neither do you."
The next whine, a more high pitched thing than she would normally give would she be pleasuring herself for herself, causes the man to visibly shutter and groan. For a moment, his eyelids flutter close, he forces a deep intake of breath and his hand stutters to a gripping stop.
"Fuck," he husks.
Belle keens in encouragement, biting her lip and batting her lashes.
"Fuck," Jethro pants again. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, fuck. I'm ready."
It was only a matter of time before he gave in, as Jethro usually did. Must be a good day if he's giving up without much of a fight - well, other than the play fighting that took up a better part of half an hour earlier, of course.
Condom at the ready, Belle waits for Jethro to remove his leather cuff and in his distraction of tossing it on top of his pants on the ground, Belle takes the opening of leaning in to roll the rubber onto Jethro's cock. As soon as it's on, Belle barely gets a single rub up the shaft before Jethro has her wrists in his hands, dragging them above her head and bouncing her back into the pillows. She can't quite help the squee that it elicits from her, but she can help the giggles she adds for his amusement. If the shine in Jethro's eyes and the enthusiast suckling he rewards to her nipple is anything to go by, she's sure she's done the right thing.
Knowing the clock is quite literally ticking, she bucks her hips ever so slightly to urge her companion along. Thankfully, with one last suck and then a kiss on Belle's breast, he takes the hint.
Straightening up, he clears his throat and pushes Belle's thighs further apart. Then, like the tease he is, Jethro takes his time pushing in.
With a low groan, he is fully seated and Belle is trying not to squirm. She knows it's an adjustment for him, even after all the years he's spent as her client, that it's only during these appointments that Jethro actually has vaginal sex. Unless, of course, his boyfriend Arthur joins them, then Jethro might not have that much of a change in his normal sexual habits for that appointment.
Arthur is supposed to tag along next week, Belle questions herself faintly. Or so she believes that she remembers have been agreed upon. She'll have to ask Jethro before he leaves.
"I met the most beautiful woman the other day," Mickey confides in Rose and Ian over tea. With Ian home sick, he has been invited himself to Rose and Mickey's routine get together, now moved for the day because of Ian, to Rose's flat for the day rather than that little coffee shop down the road from her's or the nice cafe by Mickey and Jack's work. Due to a business meeting, Jack isn't able to make the lunch, much to Ian's chagrin.
"Yeah?" Rose asks curiously, but good natured. She hasn't seen Mickey this happy in a long time.
"Yeah." He sounds wistful, and he's only just met the woman! "Saved each other's lives, we did."
Rose raises a brow and leans back in her chair to ready herself. This has got to be a good one, she thinks.
"Some bloke on a bicycle almost crash into her on the sidewalk, but I pulled her back. Then, gentleman that I am-"
Rose snorts. She can't really help it.
"Gentleman," Mickey starts again slowly, insistently, and Rose purses her lips. Ian, however, looks on with rapt interest. "That I am, I offered to help her cross the street."
"And how old is this woman exactly?"
"Oi, watch it, she's got to be around the same age as you."
"Ooh," Rose teases. "A younger woman!"
"By about a year or two! It's not that big a difference!"
"Right, right." Rose nods in faux sympathy, trying to smother a grin.
"Anyways," Mickey rolls his eyes. "I'm just a step or two ahead of her when suddenly a car comes outta nowhere." That causes Rose to stiffen for a moment. Her father died in a hit-and-run when she was a baby. All the times her mother warned her about not running out into the streets growing up really did a number on her. "And then she pulled me back."
"That doesn't sound too exciting."
With a laugh, Rose relaxes.
"I'll have you know, little man," Mickey points a stern finger at Ian. "It was very romantic."
"And what was so romantic about it?" Rose goads him.
"'Cause right after, yeah? I look her in the eyes and say, 'Marry me.'"
"And she told you off as nutter, right? Like, she didn't just agree? Right there in the middle of the street after you just met? Please, tell me this woman isn't as crazy as you as to say yes to that."
For a solid three seconds, Rose has an actual fear that this woman did exactly that. Mickey's ever going smile does absolutely nothing to ease her worries. As much as she loves her childhood best friend and as much as she wants him happy, she can't agree with this. It's just too much, and so very much like the teenage him that he has spent the past few years working so hard to mature past.
And what Mickey says next causes not just her, but apparently also wide-eyed Ian, to breath easy once more.
"She said, 'Let's try a date first and see if maybe we can work our way up it.'"
Rose sighs in relief, "Oh, thank god. She's only somewhat crazy." And Mickey gawks as Ian snickers.
"Alright, alright," Rose concedes. "When's your date, then?"
"Tomorrow," Mickey tells her proudly.
"Well then, good luck."
"Thank you."
"Yeah. You never know with the crazy ones, so you're gonna need it, Uncle Mick," Ian chimes in helpfully.
Rose nearly chokes on her spit, she laughs so hard.
"I met the strangest man the other day," Martha tells John.
"Were you up in the mental ward, again?"
Martha smacks him on the arm.
"Right, I forgot who I'm talking to. Don't worry, I've still yet to meet anyone stranger than you."
"Hang on," John tries to defend himself, but Martha is having none of it.
"Will you just shut up and listen for once?"
"Oh, alright." He could use a bit of a distraction from his own thoughts.
"Thank you," Martha huffs. "So, anyways, I was on my way home from work when this cyclist nearly crashed into me."
"You alright?" John asks, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine, obvious. But that's just it! This fit bloke-"
"Uh-huh."
Martha rolls her eyes.
"This fit bloke pulls me out of the way then offers to walks me a bit more of the way to make sure I was okay."
"That was good of him."
"Yeah, it was." And Martha sounds so content that John can't bring himself to tease her further. He tries to listen more attentively. "But then when we were crossing the street, this car pulled up out of nowhere and nearly hit him. Thankfully, I pulled him back just in time. And then - now this is the real kicker - he looks at me with the most incredulous look on his face and asks me to marry him!"
"Dear god," John breathes. "I don't know whether to think this man mad or a genius for making such a move so fast." He pauses. Then intrigued and somewhat excited, "What did you say?"
Martha blushes.
"I said, 'Let's try a date first and see if maybe we can work our way up it.'"
"Martha Jones!" John exclaims in his joy. "You sly dog, Martha Jones! Who knew you had it in you?"
Rolling her eyes, Martha slaps John's arm once more, but it's lighthearted and John can see her losing a fight against a smile.
"Shut up."
"Oh, come on. This is a good thing! A date would be good for you! Live a little, learn to indulge yourself from time to time-"
"You're one to talk."
"Oh, whatever."
If only you knew, John thinks, but he can't quite make himself tell her about Rose. Martha may have grown to be a good friend over the few short years, but Rose is story for a less sober time. Or a time with more tea and a less depressing environment.
"So, when's this pre-wedding date of yours, uh..?"
"Mickey."
"Huh." That brings John up short for a brief second. "Used to know a Mickey." But that thought can only lead him to thinking once more about Rose, so he gets back to the subject at hand. "Anyways, when are you and mister Mickey going to start planning the wedding?"
"We're not planning anything, we're just going for dinner tomorrow."
"Ooh, tomorrow. Are you nervous?"
Martha blushes and looks down. "Little bit?" She looks back up at him.
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," John tries to reassure her. "Perfectly normal."
"I know." Martha smiles and John thinks that she'll be fine.
"Doctor Noble, good, hi, I need your help," pants some other doctor that John can't remember the name up.
"Yep, well here I am. What can I help you with?"
"I'm completely swamped with patients right now and this new one's just come in, all cut up, tried to, well." He clears his throat. "Anyways, I was wondering if you could check on her? Just give me some time to get in there for a psych eval."
"Anything, in particular, you want me to do?"
"Just talk to him and check over the bandaging, please."
Checking a nearby wall clock, John figures that he does have the time.
"Yeah, sure."
Doctor whatever-his-name-is smiles in relief and sends John off.
Outside the ward, John prepares himself by thoroughly going over the patient's chart. From what he can tell, the man, Louis, age thirty-five, made a failed attempt on his own life by cutting along as many vulnerable parts of his body as he could before he passed out. He was then found by his long-time girlfriend and emergency contact, Reinette.
John enters the all grey room solemnly, trying to force as much brightness into his severity as he can. He tries to add a smile.
"Hello, Louis. My name is Doctor John Noble and I've been sent to check over your bandaging, if that's alright."
The man gives his a once over look before nodding and turning his gaze away. John takes the permission he is granted and starts checking over the gauze coverings. Thankfully, Louis hasn't seemed to have tried to upset his self-inflictions furthers.
"All safe and covered, low chance of an infection, which is nice," he remarks absently. It earns him a sharp look from Louis.
"There is nothing nice about it."
"About why you're all wrapped up? I'll be honest with you, no. It's not so nice," he tries to be gentle in his not-quite-chiding.
Louis looks away and silence settles over the room for a minute.
"I didn't think she'd come," Louis says so softly that John nearly misses it. Thinking back to the chart, John doesn't really think he has to ask, but he does.
"My girlfriend, Reinette. We uh," he clears his throat, "We'd gotten ourselves into a row and she left. I didn't even know what the fight was really about." John tries not to hiss in sympathy. This has just taken a hit a little too close to home for John's taste. "But then, she just up and went and I got drunk and called her and-" Louis cuts himself off there and John is half grateful for it. Except now, he's expected to respond and he doesn't really know how to.
Clearing his own throat, John tries to take it slow.
"There's - There could have been a better-"
But Louis picks the conversation back up himself as in John hasn't said a word.
"I think it was both our faults really; that lack in communications. I mean, of course, I know it's my fault for this," here, he displays the undersides of his arms for a second, "but I blame myself, really I do, but the emotions behind it, that was on both of it."
A muscle in John's jaw decides to twitch at that and it is only then that John realizes that he's been clenching his jaw.
And then Louis meets John's eye.
"I know what I did was wrong. So, can I go? I promise I'll do better, I just overreacted."
Sighing, John closes his eyes, bringing one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He takes several seconds to ground himself before putting on a more professional façade.
"Mister King, I am only here to check over your bandaging and to make sure that you are as comfortable as can be, despite the circumstances-"
"Isn't that usually a nurse's job?"
It takes a great amount of willpower not to sigh, or groan, or roll his eyes, or do anything, really, aside from continuing on with his little speech.
"As well as to inform you as to what will happen when the doctor assigned to you comes in to do a psych evaluation. This evaluation will determine whether or not you can, as you put it, go, or if you might need to be hospitalized in a facility to be further check in on."
"I don't really think that that will be necessary."
"Yes, well, I'm not the doctor that gets to determine whether or not that's true."
Louis tries to argue a bit more from there, but luckily, doctor whatever-his-name comes along shortly thereafter and then John is left alone with his thoughts once more.