Chapter 1: The Examination Room Tease
The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as Methas, or MJ as everyone called him, strutted into the mock examination room they’d set up in their upscale loft. The fashion mogul’s tailored suit was replaced with a flimsy hospital gown, barely tied at the back, exposing just enough of his toned physique to make Chalarm’s jaw tighten. Two years into their relationship, and MJ still knew how to push every damn button the ER doc had.
‘Doctor,’ MJ purred, his voice dripping with faux vulnerability as he perched on the edge of the examination table, legs crossed provocatively. ‘I’ve got this... issue. Down there. It’s been throbbing something fierce.’ His dark eyes glinted with mischief, a smirk tugging at his full lips as he gestured vaguely toward his perianal region.
Chalarm, ever the stoic professional even in play, adjusted his stethoscope with a cool, detached air. His white coat hung perfectly on his broad shoulders, and his sharp features remained unreadable. ‘Mr. Methas, I’ll need specifics. Throbbing, you say? Care to elaborate, or should I just guess what’s got you so... worked up?’ His tone was clinical, but the faintest quirk of his brow betrayed the heat simmering beneath.
MJ leaned back on his hands, the gown slipping just enough to reveal a sliver of thigh. ‘Oh, Doctor, it’s embarrassing. But if you must know, it’s a deep, aching need. Feels like I’ve been... neglected. Maybe you’ve got the right touch to fix me up?’ His voice was a sultry challenge, daring Chalarm to break character.
Chalarm stepped closer, his gloved hands flexing as if resisting the urge to grab MJ right then and there. ‘Neglect is a serious accusation. I’m a professional, Mr. Methas. I don’t play favorites, even with patients who think they can charm their way to a diagnosis.’ His voice was low, a warning laced with want, as he towered over MJ, their faces inches apart.
‘Charm? Oh, honey, I don’t charm. I demand,’ MJ shot back, uncrossing his legs deliberately slow, letting the gown ride up further. ‘So, are you gonna examine me or just stand there pretending you’re not dying to get your hands on me?’
The air crackled between them, tension thick as Chalarm’s gaze dropped, just for a split second, to the exposed skin. ‘Fine. Lie back. Let’s see how bad this... throbbing really is.’ His words were clipped, but the way his fingers twitched as he reached for the mock medical tray screamed restraint on the verge of collapse.
MJ complied, stretching out with a feline grace, his eyes never leaving Chalarm’s. ‘Be thorough, Doc. I’m a very... particular patient.’ His smirk widened as Chalarm’s gloved hand hovered near his hip, the anticipation building like a storm ready to break.
As Chalarm leaned in, his breath hot against MJ’s ear, he murmured, ‘Careful what you ask for. I don’t stop until I’ve found every last problem.’ The promise in his voice sent a shiver down MJ’s spine, and as those skilled hands finally made contact, the game was over—replaced by a raw, hungry need that neither could deny.
Their lips crashed together, the pretense shattered, and the room was about to become anything but sterile.
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