Work Text:
Being one of three doctors in a remote town with a population in the thousands was an extremely stressful job. At any moment an emergency could occur - people were regularly injured by factory machinery or gored by bulls, influenza and other diseases ran rampant during the colder months when everyone was forced indoors, and the local children liked to play strange, often dangerous games - but today was different. It was the rare sort of day where there were zero appointments or check-ups, no children 'falling' off the stairways to heaven and dislocating an arm. Even the Soul-and-a-Halves' pets were taking the day off from being sick or injured, like some miracle from Bos Turokh himself.
Truth be told, Artemy was bored. His hands were itching with the need to do something, but every task he could think of was even more tedious than the last. He had already taken inventory, scrubbed down the operating room (including the hard to reach areas in between the light fixtures), taken inventory again (and reorganized everything so it was easier to find), put some more tinctures on to brew (which he did enjoy, but was always so quick), and stood in the now organized store room willing for something interesting but not deadly to happen that would distract him from the monotony.
He eventually found himself lying on the musty sofa in the back room. It had been the only thing left untouched in the room when they acquired the building, deemed unworthy of looting by even the most desperate of people, and they never bothered to remove it. Artemy was secretly glad - despite the smell of mildew and the fact it had lost half of its stuffing, it was surprisingly comfortable.
"Are you really taking a nap?"
Artemy opened his eyes to see Rubin standing in the doorway, his imposing figure softened somewhat by the mound of ratty fabrics he was carrying.
"If you're not planning on doing anything productive today then you can help me with the linens."
Artemy groaned, moving to sit up. "What do you need my help for? Can't you do it yourself?"
"For the most part, I already have." He let the whole pile fall unceremoniously to Artemy's feet with a pillowy thump, revealing in his hands the clinic's battered sewing kit. "These," he gestured at the pile with his boot, setting the box down within Artemy's reach, "all need repairs. I've already washed this lot so they can be put straight in the closet when you're finished."
"Seriously? I do too much of this at home to do it at work too."
"You're more than welcome to take it home with you if it makes you feel better." Before Artemy could open his mouth again, he preemptively added: "and I'm making you do it because, as you love to remind me, you were always better with a needle."
Artemy groaned again, pulling out what appeared to be a moth eaten patient's smock with an ominous red stain across the abdomen. That particular 'argument' - more like playful ribbing - had been about suturing, and how the line stitched by Artemy on Rubin's abdomen had healed to a neat white line, while Rubin's effort on Artemy remained a violent red zigzag up his forearm. Of course Rubin would bring it back to bite him. "Sewing cloth and suturing flesh are two very different things, Stakh."
Rubin gave him the exasperated glare of a man who did not have the energy to rehash the same pointless argument again. Artemy knew that it was a front - if Rubin had the energy to stand then he had the energy for pointless arguments - but he knew it would be pointless to try. With a sigh, he relented, waving Rubin away as he opened up the sewing kit. A number of the needles were missing, either dropped between floorboards or stolen by local children, but with a little bit of digging he pulled together a set decent enough to fix some seams and darn some holes. He was pretty good at sewing, truth be told - he had been fixing his own clothes from a young age (his father believed it would lead to a steady hand during surgery - maybe in retrospect he had been right), and now he had two lively children who frequently came home with scuffed knees and torn dresses. He'd have to teach Sticky to mend his own things soon, assuming he could sit still long enough to learn - taking a leaf out of his father's book and calling it 'doctor practice' could work. Maybe then they could hire him to do the laundry and save Artemy the trouble.
He made it a little over half way through the pile before the monotony became too much, the bouncing of his leg causing him to drop a stitch one too many times. With a huff he bundled up what he had finished (more than enough for the next week, he thought) and went to store them away.
On the way to the linen closet, he spotted Rubin in the storeroom examining Artemy's earlier work.
"Did you really reorganize this whole room instead of doing anything important?"
Artemy shrugged awkwardly around the heap. "Not like there was anything else to do." He shuffled into the room, depositing the sheets on an empty shelf in the hopes that Rubin would help with the folding. "Besides," he said, fishing a strange bottle he'd found out of his pocket, "I found some antibiotics that have been here since before the plague. Would have been useful then, but probably need replacing now."
Rubin took the bottle, opening it and quizzically shaking out a crumbling tablet of unknown potency. "This place wasn't even a clinic back then! How on earth did those survive the looting?"
"Dunno. I found them behind those shelves."
Rubin followed Artemy's finger to a heavy wooden shelving unit that looked like it would require multiple people to move safely. "Artemy, are you telling me that you moved the fucking shelves instead of helping me with the laundry?"
The sound of a throat being cleared kindly interrupted the inevitable argument.
"Burakh, have you got a minute?"
Artemy must have noticeably perked up at the sound of Daniil's voice if Rubin's eye roll was any indication. He turned to his partner ("Not while we're in the clinic!" The Daniil in his head admonished for his word choice), and tried not to look as thrilled to see him as he felt. "I suppose so. What do you need?"
Dankovsky pushed himself off the doorframe he had been leaning on and beckoned for Artemy to follow. "I just need you to go over some notes; it won't take long. Come up when you're ready."
Artemy watched Daniil leave, exuding a confidence that indicated complete certainty in the fact that Artemy would be following him up shortly. There hadn't been any particularly interesting cases of illness in the town lately (a good thing, for the record), so 'going over notes' was probably something banal like checking Dankovsky's arithmetic or helping him with the spelling of kin names. He glanced at Rubin as if asking permission: he just rolled his eyes a second time, moving to take over the folding of the linens.
"Go chase your boyfriend, Cub. Maybe he'll be able to encourage you to do something useful."
Artemy flipped him a rude gesture before following Daniil out the room, up the stairs and around the corner to the storage closet that they had converted into an office of sorts for Daniil, the door left ajar in anticipation of company.
Artemy took his usual spot on the landing just outside, and immediately noticed two things: first, the desk was devoid of ledgers or lists or anything remotely resembling paperwork. Second, Daniil was standing with his back facing the doorway, looking out of the tiny window and badly pretending that he didn't know Artemy was there. Even if Artemy hadn't seen the way his head cocked in attention at his arrival it was an obvious lie: not only were Artemy's footsteps akin to a herd of bulls at the best of times, even without the third stair from the top creaking like he'd stepped on an angry cat, but Artemy knew that there was nothing to look at outside that window besides the dull brown wall of the opposite building. It barely provided enough sunlight to keep the room lit, and was currently used exclusively as a smoke vent whenever Daniil couldn't tear himself from his work to go somewhere more ventilated.
Artemy realized that he had been standing silently a beat or two too long. "You wanted me to go over something?"
Daniil turned with a polite smile, as if he hadn't heard Artemy walk up the stairs and awkwardly hover by his door. "Burakh! Do come in."
Artemy frowned. The formalities were unusual, and he hadn't been asked to actually enter the room since he'd helped to squeeze the desk through the doorway. Daniil preferred to keep his personal space to himself at the clinic, claiming that it made it easier to think. "Are you sure there's space? I can read it out here just fine."
With a roll of his eyes Daniil leaned forward, grasped the front of Artemy's sweater and pulled. Artemy stumbled into the glorified closet after him, bracing one hand on the opposite wall in an attempt to not barrel him over.
"There, was that so hard?"
There wasn't much room to move. Most of the space was being taken up by Daniil's desk, and even with his chair pushed as far to the side as it could go there was barely space for two adult men. Artemy was always aware of his size, but here he felt more out of place than ever, trying in vain to give Daniil a professional amount of space because they were currently at work while not tripping over anyone's feet. From this close Artemy could smell the cheap tobacco paired with expensive capital cologne that made up Daniil's scent, with the undertones of something uniquely Daniil in the air from long days spent sat unmoving at his desk. It was intoxicating at the best of times, but here, in the clinic, where he wasn't allowed to touch? It was downright maddening, and Artemy felt his hand twitch with the urge to do it anyway.
Daniil shuffled around him, their shoulders bumping together at least twice, and pulled the door closed with a creak of hinges and a click of the latch. When he turned back around there was a playful glint in his eyes, one that only appeared when they were alone in a more intimate manner - Artemy swallowed, his mouth suddenly full of saliva, and broke eye contact before he did something rash.
"What are you planning, Dankov-"
Before he finished his sentence Daniil had surged forwards, crashing their lips together like a man starved. One of his hands curled around the back of Artemy's neck while the other squeezed at his ass, pulling their bodies even closer together than they already were. Artemy let out a surprised but pleased grunt, immediately reciprocating the kiss even as his own hands hovered awkwardly over Daniil's body, still not fully believing that they were allowed to touch. Daniil briefly extricated himself and with an incredulous look pulled those bear paws the last few inches they needed, wordlessly giving Artemy the permission he needed to caress and grope at him through his clothes. Even through the layers of cotton Artemy could feel his Lines thrumming in tune with his own, two halves beating as one whole.
He felt his cock stir at the image, and knew from the pleased hum that vibrated around his lower lip that Daniil felt it too. Before they got too carried away, Artemy broke the kiss. A string of spit still connected them, drawing his eyes back to Daniil's wet, red lips - he nearly gave in and licked his way back inside, rutted against him like a desperate animal, but managed to restrain himself through sheer force of will. "What happened to separating our work and personal lives?"
Daniil grinned and moved his mouth to Artemy's neck, giving the tender skin just below his ear a delicate nip. "You only take inventory when you're deathly bored, and I've heard you go in there at least six times today!" His voice was barely above a whisper, but this close it was crystal clear. Artemy still felt himself leaning in, hanging on every word. "If I hear you move everything around one more time I might go mad, so consider this a distraction. For both of our benefits."
Artemy matched the conspiratorial tone, angling towards Daniil's ear as if sharing a dirty secret - in a way, they were. Rubin would throw a fit if he found out that Artemy was wasting even more time that could be spent doing something more important, never mind the fact it was on something as frivolous as desperately humping his coworker in what amounted to little more than a storage closet. "If your intention is to rile me up and kick me out when you're satisfied then you are a cruel man indeed." He rocked his hips into Daniil, his embarrassingly half hard cock emphasizing how riled up he already was from so little. Being in such close quarters, pressed up against his partner in a room already so saturated by his scent, it was frankly impossible for him not to be - and he was beginning to realize that was Daniil's intent.
"Oh Tyoma, you think that little of me?" He was grinning like the cat that caught the canary, or rather the snake that hypnotized the bull, smirking with just a hint of teeth, eyes blown wide. "No, I intend to take you right here on my desk - it would be awful of me to leave you frustrated at work, wouldn't it?"
Artemy felt his breath hitch. He'd expected it to end at the kissing, a little bit of light teasing to alleviate their boredom, and if he was extremely lucky a hand down his pants - but Daniil had called him here with far loftier goals -the express intent of fucking him. They had discussed this fantasy in the past, even role played it on one memorable evening, but it was always shot down as too distracting or too risky to actually attempt. Artemy was undeniably hardening now, his clothes starting to become uncomfortably tight. "What's your plan if Rubin catches on?" He sounded pathetically eager even to himself, like a teenager who had been propositioned for the first time - he was lucky Daniil found his inexperience endearing.
"Ideally he will never know - do you think that you can be quiet?"
His hand snaked between their bodies to cup Artemy's growing hardness, and Artemy realized just how ensnared he was in this man's web. He swallowed down a whimper - he was never the most vocal in bed after years of taking care of his needs alone, but it still took a considerable effort to keep this one from escaping his throat - and nodded.
"Good boy."
As Artemy recovered from the praise Daniil made quick work of Artemy's belt and fly, pulling his trousers and underwear down just enough to get them out of the way and promptly wrapped his fingers around Artemy's now freed length. He began to stroke slowly but methodically, twisting his grip in the way he knew Artemy liked. The sound of skin sliding against skin was deafening in the near silent room, getting gradually more vulgar as Daniil swiped up the precum already leaking from Artemy's tip. When his other hand sneaked in to cup at his balls Artemy nearly cried out, but Daniil had the sense to catch it before it escaped with another hungry kiss, smothering it into a muffled moan.
Daniil pulled his mouth away after a beat, giving Artemy's bottom lip a tug with his teeth as a parting gift. "Ready?"
Artemy nodded enthusiastically, his hair starting to stick to his forehead - it was amazing how fast two people could heat up a room. When Daniil let go it was almost a relief - at least those damned moans would stop trying to crawl out of his throat for a minute or two. It was just as relieving to know that Daniil was far from finished with him.
"Turn around for me, sweetheart."
Artemy did let himself groan at that. "You're expecting me to keep quiet without your mouth to occupy me?"
"Of course I am - and as much as they suit you, a gag would ruin the fun." He gave Artemy one last peck on the lips before de-tangling them somewhat, giving him just enough space to turn and lean his arms against the desk. For the first time since they crammed the damned thing through the door Artemy was glad for its size - there was no risk of his head going through the opposite wall at least.
"I've wanted you bent over this desk since you helped carry it in," Daniil said as he pulled a tub of lubricant from somewhere and busied himself with slicking up his fingers.
Artemy couldn't resist the urge to needle him back. "And have you kept that tub in here since then? You're even more of a pervert than I thought."
Artemy was silenced with a light tap to the inner thigh and a cold lube-coated finger circling his asshole. "Relax for me, Tyoma."
Artemy sucked in a breath as the tip of Daniil's first finger pushed inside. He was used to the feeling by now, but that never dampened the thrill of Daniil being inside him. Daniil never rushed this part, even in situations like this where the threat of being discovered hung over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. Instead he was patient, waiting for Artemy to be comfortably acclimated to one finger before sliding the second one in alongside it. He worked efficiently, thrusting and scissoring his fingers with a clinical precision, occasionally crooking them down to earn a full body shiver from Artemy. Artemy experimentally clenched around them and was penalized with a particularly firm thrust against his prostate - Artemy couldn't help but let out a surprised moan of pleasure before realizing his mistake when the fingers inside him stilled.
"What was that, Tyoma?"
Artemy opened his mouth to beg, please, I'll be good, I'll be quiet, but closed it just as quickly - more noise would hardly help his case. Instead he grit his teeth, though that did nothing to stop the sound of breathy panting as Daniil went for his prostate again with renewed vigor.
"That's better. If you couldn't even manage to be quiet around my fingers, you'd hardly be able to manage my cock, would you?"
They continued for a minute or so, Artemy trying in vain not to make a sound louder than his breath while Daniil confidently pumped his fingers in and out of Artemy's body. Whenever Artemy tripped up and let a grunt or moan escape out from between his teeth and into the quickly warming air Daniil would stop his ministrations dead, as punishment or out of kindness Artemy did not know, and only start again after a couple seconds of silence. Artemy grit his teeth and clenched his fists - if he turned, he could just about see Daniil's dark eyes on him, greedily taking in every detail like he wouldn't get the opportunity again.
After a short while the fingers were removed and Artemy silently mourned their absence, clenching around nothing as Daniil slicked up his cock and lined himself up.
"So needy, Tyoma," he whispered, his voice much less smooth than when they started, before finally pushing himself inside.
A whimper escaped Artemy's throat just before he could catch it. Daniil huffed a laugh but paused his motion, massaging soothing circles into the meat of Artemy's asscheek with his thumb in an attempt to ground him. Only when Artemy relaxed around him did he begin to move again, steadily sinking the rest of the way in. It was Daniil's turn to make a noise he shouldn't have, letting out a breathy "oh," that echoed in Artemy's ears as he began to piston his hips.
The pace he set was agonizingly slow, like he was avoiding fucking any noise out of Artemy, or goading him into saying something about it, trying to trick him into begging. Instead, Artemy pushed himself backwards and onto Daniil's cock in a way that could be described as desperate. The desk rattled in protest, the legs scraping across the floor with a horrible whine, the table lamp making a valiant effort to escape off the edge.
A hand grasped his shoulder, pinning him to the desk. "So impatient! We're being quiet, Tyoma, remember?"
The sound of Daniil's slick cock sliding in and out of Artemy's body was obscene in the near silent room, and was rivaled only by the rushing of blood in Artemy's ears that he could swear was perfectly in time with Daniil throbbing inside him. He was trying to beg soundlessly for more, spreading his legs as far as they could with his trousers still wrapped around them, trying to angle himself so Daniil could hit deeper. He clasped a reverent hand on the one on his shoulder, but still Daniil refused to change his pace. In a moment of desperation he tried to reach between his legs only for his hand to be slapped away and brought back above his head. He wanted to protest, his own hand would barely add more sound to the cacophony of sex they were currently making, but he couldn't bear to find the right words. Even in near silence Daniil had managed to fuck the vocabulary right out of him.
Daniil's hand slapped suddenly over Artemy's mouth, the motion burying him fully in Artemy's ass. Artemy's first assumption was that Daniil had already reached his peak, spurred on by the taboo of what they were doing despite the glacial pace. He whined through the fingers even as Daniil gripped tighter, jerking his hips back in an attempt to take him even deeper. The hand on his shoulder moved to his waist, nails digging into his skin in a desperate attempt to stop him moving - he realized what was wrong when he heard the telltale creaking of the third stair from the top.
Artemy followed Daniil's example and froze as heavy soled boots reverberated on the floorboards outside. Neither man dared to move an inch lest they be given away by the creaky desk or a moan let slip. The footsteps grew closer, slowed, and paused outside Daniil's closed office door - not an unusual sight by itself, but under these circumstances?
Time seemed to stop. Artemy screwed his eyes shut, cock throbbing between his body and the desk - at any moment Rubin could realize what they were doing, or knock on the door to ask Daniil a question, or just barge in out of curiosity. The thought should have been mortifying, and it was - but that mortification mutated into a burning thrill that seeped through his veins. Anyone could walk in and see him bent over a table with Daniil's cock in his ass - what would people think if they saw him, warden, menkhu, the man that cured the plague, impaled on the Bachelor's length and clearly loving it?
Above (and deep inside of, his mind helpfully supplied) him Daniil gripped even tighter in an attempt to stop him shaking. He seemed to be holding his breath - something Artemy would be doing if he hadn't been fucked so breathless - and was almost entirely focused on keeping Artemy silent.
Perhaps too focused thought Artemy, a terrible, impulsive idea beginning to form in his sex addled mind. After all, Daniil is supposed to be in here - isn't it more suspicious if he doesn't make a single sound?
He had to choose his moment carefully, wait for Daniil's guard to be lowered just enough. For now he had to behave, focus on his breathing and not moving an inch - a challenge when Daniil was still rock hard and hot inside him. Was he getting off to the fear of being discovered as much as Artemy was?
After what felt like minutes but was probably only seconds, he heard the sound of boots shuffling outside the door, then footsteps beginning to take their owner back down the corridor. He felt Daniil's grip slacken minutely, and before he could lose his nerve -
"Oh!"
Artemy clenched hard around Daniil's cock and used what little leverage he had to jerk his hips first away from and then back onto Daniil's body. The startled, wanton moan that escaped from Daniil's throat was downright pornographic, reverberating off the walls even after he managed to snap his mouth shut. Artemy grinned - so focused on silencing me you forgot about yourself, eh Danya? - even as Daniil's nails dug deeper into his skin. The footsteps didn't falter, carrying their owner somewhere away from the pair, leaving them alone and undetected. A few tense seconds passed before Daniil relaxed.
"Oh, you bastard."
Daniil began to move again, the slow pace from before forgotten in favor of hard and fast thrusts that left Artemy reeling, the desk resuming its shaking and rattling and scraping. Artemy threw out an arm to brace against the wall, stifling some, but not all, of the noise as Daniil pounded into him with none of the prior restraint.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" His voice was a low, breathy growl, another layer of his put-together persona crumbling much to Artemy's delight. Daniil's cock was hitting his prostate with every thrust, punching breathy moans from his throat that he had no chance of stopping - not that he was trying to catch them anymore.
"Should have gagged you after all, and restrained you for good measure."
Artemy was too distracted to point out that Daniil was the one who had made the noise, the sweet feeling of getting exactly what he wanted filling his head with smug satisfaction. He could feel his climax approaching, spurred further on by Daniil's threats and the perfect stretch between his legs. Daniil's thrusts were getting more and more erratic and the desk was shaking in kind - Artemy helplessly hoped that the flimsy wooden legs would hold out for longer than Daniil could.
Thankfully, luck was on their side. With a spat out expletive and a grunt of pleasure Daniil was tumbling over the edge, his hips rutting hard into Artemy's ass in time with the pulsing of his cock. Artemy clenched around him again, partly an apology and partly because he needed more, and Daniil could only groan breathily in response. Pulling their hips back without slipping out he reached around Artemy's thigh, but he didn't even get his fingers fully around Artemy's length before he was following him over, painting the wooden floor with his spend. Daniil worked him through his orgasm, stroking him with long motions and letting his floor get more defiled until Artemy slumped fully onto the desk fully spent.
They stayed there for a minute, unwilling to part, Daniil leaning over Artemy with his head resting between his shoulder blades as he caught his breath. His belt buckle had started uncomfortably sticking into Artemy's thigh some time ago, but in this post orgasmic haze he found he didn't care - he just wanted Daniil as close as possible. He wanted to bundle him into his arms as he usually did as they came down from the high together, but from this position he had to settle for gripping a hand tightly in his own. Daniil nuzzled into his back in response, the gesture understood.
Once he caught his breath Daniil pulled out his softening cock to Artemy's chagrin, tucking himself away and admiring the mess he'd made. Daniil hummed, fingers gathering the cum that had trickled out and pushing it back inside Artemy's fluttering hole. "I think that's a good punishment - no cleaning yourself up, you get to feel me dripping out of you for the rest of the day."
Artemy responded with a pathetic, pained noise which only succeeded in making Daniil chuckle. "We only have an hour left, you'll manage fine."
Daniil helped him to his (admittedly shaky) feet, and fussed with his hair while he pulled up his trousers, wincing at the dampness leaking out of him.
Daniil pushed open the small window, which finally got to serve a second purpose - airing out the smell of sex. "You'd better get back downstairs before Rubin gets any ideas. I'll clean up - maybe after I've had a smoke…"
"Without offering me one?" He leaned down to give Daniil a much more chaste peck on the lips. "Kheerkhen, I'm wounded."
"You have your own!" Daniil replied with a grin. "Now get out of here, and try to look like you didn't just come over my floor."
Artemy put on his best poker face and descended the staircase, carefully stepping over the creaky stair. If he was quick, he could get back to the stack of linens before Rubin-
"Where the hell were you?"
So much for that.
Rubin emerged from under the stairs, cutting off Artemy's escape route. There was no embarrassment or ire in his stance - he seemed more confused than anything. Thank Boddho, thought Artemy, he must not have heard us after all. He relaxed slightly, releasing some tension he didn't know he was holding and immediately regretting it when more of Daniil's spend dripped out of him. He hoped that Rubin didn't notice him wince.
"Searched the whole damn building for you. If you managed to find somewhere to hide like when we were kids…" He trailed off, eyes darting between Artemy's still warm face, his hastily tidied hair, his rumpled clothes… "Oh for fuck's sake."
Artemy rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly looking at anything but Rubin's face, unsure of what to say.
"I was going to let you know that we have enough linens to last a few weeks so the rest of the repairs can wait, but seeing as your evening just freed up you'll have plenty of time to get it all done for tomorrow." He deflated slightly, shaking his head. "Can't believe you fucked him in the fucking clinic, of all places!"
Artemy shifted his weight from one aching leg to the other. "If we're getting technical, he's the one who fucked-"
"Fucking hell do not finish that sentence. I will cut the bedsheets into tiny pieces and make you stitch them back together."
Artemy couldn't help but grin at the thought - Rubin can't have been truly angry if he wasn't threatening grievous bodily harm. "I'll make sure to get everything fixed," he said as an apology anyway. "Should go smoothly now - I'm feeling very relaxed for some reason."
"You'd better, and fuck off." He sighed, rubbing a weary hand over his face. "I'm going home early to try to drink this memory out of my head. For your sake I hope it works."
Artemy couldn't help but poke the bear one more time. "In that case - say hi to Peter for me!"
Rubin flipped Artemy the same rude gesture as earlier and left the room.