Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

WEDNESDAY, 11:30

 Frederick's just finished telling one of his few remaining employees to take the rest of the week off, paid of course, to go home and get some rest. Lest it be interpreted as an act of kindness, he hastily clarifies that he'd rather pay Matthews to stay home than have him around the hospital spreading germs, and the orderly thanks him for the time off in that grating Boston accent that would've made him change his mind under any other circumstances. It only half registers today though, and Frederick nods distractedly and waves him away, far more interested in the movement on his laptop screen.

Leaning over to take a closer look, a blush threatens to spread across his face when he realizes what his patient is doing, and he quickly glances up to make sure his office is empty. Of course Will has certain needs, and he's taken care of them fairly regularly, but he's never been this... brazen about it before.

It's not as if his patient isn't aware that his cell is monitored 24/7, both by cameras and by the occasional floor sweep, but today he doesn't seem to care. His usual thin blanket forgone, he's fully on display; jumpsuit unbuttoned, shirt rucked up above his navel, stroking himself at a slow pace. Of course Frederick has seen him naked before-- there was the mandatory cavity search on intake, and he's certainly walked by the showers in the past and caught a glance or two, perhaps for a second too long-- but never like this...

Absentmindedly palming himself under his desk, he reaches for his headphones and maximizes the camera feed. Much better. Frederick strokes himself through his pants again, more firmly this time, popping the button on his trousers to give his hardening cock some room. He knew Will was cut, but who had any idea he was such a grower? Maybe not quite of pornstar heft, but well endowed to say the least, and the psychiatrist swears he can see a fat vein, even at this shitty resolution. Nice thick head too, the kind that's a stretch to take but feels like heaven inside once you've settled around the shaft.

Mesmerized, he watches as his patient brings his free hand to his mouth, sucking on two fingers before slipping his hand under his shirt to tease his nipple with them, and the moan Will lets out is faint, but still goes straight to Frederick’s cock. He glances up at his half-open door and decides he has time, making quick work of his zipper and roughly shoving a hand down the front of his pants, squeezing at his tightening balls before giving himself a few firm strokes over his briefs.

Will's back arches off the bed as he lightly rocks his hips up into his own fist, white undershirt slipping the tiniest bit and baring a few more inches of smooth skin, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth to quiet his moans as he thrusts up into his palm again.

Christ is Frederick hard thinking about what else that pretty mouth could do. He tips his chair back, headphones on, ready to settle in and enjoy the show for however long it lasts, but has the presence of mind to reach for his phone and make sure he doesn't have anything scheduled. His appointments are so infrequent that they nearly always come as a surprise and-- he lets out an audible groan. Nothing on the calendar, but it's almost half past noon already, and Will hasn't been brought his lunch. He starts to open his schedule to see who he needs to track down and curse out, then remembers that he sent the only employee on shift home, and the overnight staff doesn't come in until six.

Fuck.

He debates taking two minutes to finish himself off; it's been too long, and god knows he's close, but he'd rather take his time, enjoy himself. He can always rewind the footage. Immoral? Probably, but those moans... he's only human, after all.

Will’s hips are still moving at a steady pace, and Frederick tears himself reluctantly away from the screen with another groan, dragging himself to his feet, knees complaining. With a little effort he fastens his pants back up over his glaringly obvious erection, looks down at his lap and shakes his head. Undoing the button again, he tucks his cock up into the waistband, refastening and giving the front of his pants an experimental tug. That'll have to do.

He rubs in vain at the wet spot to the left of his crotch with a tissue and sighs. The navy suit he'd chosen this morning is dark enough that it won’t be seen. Frederick grabs his blazer off of the coat rack, buttons it up, and pulls the jacket down as far as it'll go, relieved to see that his receptionist is away from her desk as he steps out of his office.

The elevator ride is enjoyable to say the least; Frederick's cane pressed into the floor with both hands picks up gentle vibrations from the old machinery, the sensation pleasant against his groin. And while he'd never be reduced to something as undignified as dry humping, a bit of light grinding certainly never hurt anyone, and he allows himself a quiet moan as the elevator slows and jerks to a halt.

Will's lunch is already prepared, waiting in the fridge; tuna on wheat, 5 carrot sticks, 5 celery sticks, an apple and a packet of saltines. Frederick takes the tray and swings the refrigerator shut, sparing a moment to examine his blurry reflection in the stainless steel-- erection not too obvious, and even less if he favors his cane a bit more than usual.

Satisfied, just wanting to get this over with so he can get back to his office and take care of himself, Frederick leaves the kitchen and makes his way down to the cells, erection rubbing against his hip with every damned step. Frustrating, but overall not a bad feeling. Kind of pleasant, actually, if he flexes his thigh inwards. Five minutes. Just five more minutes and he can go back upstairs, lock his door, listen to those moans again and edge himself as long as he likes.

He's careful to provide unnecessarily forceful taps of his cane on the steps down so Will knows he's about to have company; careful to let the lunch tray knock against the bars while he fishes for his keycard, and again as he swipes it. His patient, though, seems oblivious, and Frederick swings the bars open to find him stretched out, still stroking away. Jesus.

"You seem to be working up an appetite down here,” he snarks, inwardly thankful that his voice holds steady.

"Ah," Will's voice is quiet but equally as steady, and perhaps even more confident. “Finally."

'Finally.’ He wanted to be caught, Frederick realizes, and his traitorous cock twitches, threatening to slip from his waistband.

"I'm sorry, I had to send Matthews home," Frederick offers, albeit a bit pathetically. "I didn't want him spreading anything."

"I figured you would," Will replies evenly.

Frederick nearly drops the tray in his hand, his heart skipping a beat. Will wanted to be caught... by him? His cock throbs again, more painful this time, and he bites his lip, tightening his stance to keep from giving himself away.

"Yes, well," Frederick prays his neutral face remains intact, "My apologies for the late lunch".

"Apology accepted, Doctor," Will's face is equally as unreadable as he gets to his feet. "But don't let it happen again."

Frederick is, by all accounts, entirely in control of the situation, the prisoner locked in his own ward, for Christ's sake, but still he hesitates, blushing. He watches, helpless, as Will gets to his feet, cock bobbing once, twice, before he tucks it away, and god was Frederick right about that vein. He licks his lips before he can stop himself and it’s impossible his patient didn't notice; Will has the common decency not to say anything, but his eyes linger on Frederick's mouth for just a second too long.

"If you don't mind...?”

Frederick looks up, unable to make eye contact, and sees Will is gesturing towards the small lunch tray-- he huffs an apology and hurriedly steps forward to push it through the slot. Will sets the tray on the floor by his bed and turns back before Frederick has the presence of mind to foot a hasty retreat back to his office. Avoiding eye contact was a mistake, and now he mentally kicks himself, gaze glued to the patient's waist where he can see how hard that pretty cock still is.

A flash of movement catches Frederick by surprise and he instinctively takes a hasty step back, heart jumping into his throat, nearly falling on his ass. He catches his balance and nervously looks back up at Will, who had just reached for him; who now holds out both hands palm up, placating. Frederick swallows and steps forward again, unable to stop himself-- not sure if he wants to stop himself-- and he can do nothing but watch as his patient reaches out slowly and grabs his tie, pulling him closer.

Both men are startled by the ring of Frederick's cane against the cold stone as he lets it go in favor of gripping the bars with both hands, knuckles pale, but the distraction is momentary. His cock, by now painfully hard and on the edge of overstimulated, is pinned at an angle that feels too good, and he shifts his weight, rolling his hips to get some release, so desperate that he doesn't care if Will sees at this point. His patient barely seems to notice though, if at all; more intent upon watching the doctor's face-- he slowly offers his hand again and Frederick swallows, nods, closes his eyes. It's barely a second before he feels a hand at his mouth, and he curses himself for the sharp intake of breath that the betrays his nerves.

Will is careful with his movements, gentle, not wanting to startle Frederick. He's barely laying a finger on his lips, but then the doctor is leaning into his touch, mouth slightly open and silently begging for more, and how could he deny that face? Will traces his bottom lip with a long index finger, letting Frederick dip his head and pull it into his mouth for a moment, the tiniest moan escaping the doctor’s throat as he works delicately around Will's digit with his tongue.

Frederick hasn't been touched like this in months, has had little human contact outside of the occasional professional handshake, and he's enjoying himself immensely. The whine Frederick lets out when Will pulls his hand away is unbelievably needy, and he flushes, realizing what that must've sounded like. He'll worry about ramifications later, he needs this right now.

It takes every last shred of Frederick's willpower to keep his eyes shut, but Will’s hand is back almost immediately, at his throat this time, and it strikes him that right now his life is completely in the hands of an accused killer. Somehow, though, the heavy feeling that rises in the pit of his stomach isn’t fear, but extreme arousal. He lets out a small sigh, relishing the weight of fingers pressing into his jugular, losing himself in the feeling of having absolutely no control, and the way Will runs a thumb down his windpipe catches him completely off guard.

The noise Frederick lets out is humiliating as he screws his eyes tighter shut, clenches his jaw, tenses his hips, but it’s too late; he’s already coming hot into his pants, completely untouched, unable to stop himself. He barely registers Will’s small hum of approval, too busy praying to any god who’ll listen that his patient didn’t notice, that he doesn’t know.

His prayers might have been answered if he hadn’t stopped going to church when he was ten; if he hadn’t already cashed in all his chips last year to survive that butchering; hadn’t just let his fucking patient get him off. No such luck though, and his eyes snap open wide as he feels Will’s hand at his waist, yelps at the assault on his hypersensitive cock as two fingers are hooked in his waistband to pull him flush against the bars. Frederick reddens at the look of dawning realization on his patient’s face, and he can see that Will’s fingers are wet as he slowly pulls his hand away.

There’s no insolence in his voice, just genuine curiosity. “Is that really all it takes for you, Doctor?”

Frederick opens his mouth, squeaks, clears his throat. Tries again. Another squeak comes out, and he has nothing to say in his defense anyway, so he just shuts his mouth, face burning, unable to look away as Will slowly licks his hand clean.

“If that’s just your neck, I’d love to get my hands on the rest of you,” Will offers, a bit shyly this time.

“I...” Frederick manages, his voice half an octave higher than it should be. “I have--” he jerks a shaky thumb towards the stairs, as if there’s anywhere else for him to go.

Will kneels down, picks up his cane, offers it to Frederick with a small smile. "I know, you’re a busy man.”

Not trusting his voice, Frederick nods his thanks, turning to leave. Will clears his throat behind him, and he instantly regrets his decision to turn back. Will has his hand buried down his jumpsuit again, out of sight but clearly stroking his cock, and Frederick blushes even harder, knowing Will saw his eyes go almost immediately from his face to his waist.

“I hope you have a few minutes to watch me finish,” Will grins, nodding at the security camera pointed towards his cell.

Frederick goes from bright pink to a shade of lobster red, and he retreats up the steps as fast as he can.

His receptionist is still away from her desk, and he says a silent thank you to whoever might be listening, just in case. Locking himself in his office, he strips out of his sticky clothes, tosses them onto the couch along with his cane, dives into his chair and flings his laptop open just in time to hear Will’s broken moan as he comes.

Frederick lets out a heavy breath, sincerely considering rewinding the last 15 minutes and getting off again, wishing he was as young as he used to be. Instead he peels himself out of his chair and limps to the bathroom to clean up the mess he made of himself before he deletes the last hour of footage, but only after he burns a copy to his flash drive. For record-keeping.

Chapter Text

THURSDAY, 11:30

 Frederick is dreading bringing Will his lunch, given yesterday's mishap, but Matthews is still out sick and nobody was available to pick up his shift. He deliberately came in to work late so he wouldn't have as much time to torture himself, but it's only half past eleven and he still has another half an hour to work himself up. And he can't stop with the pacing, the foot tapping, the lip chewing, the pen-fidgeting.

He did genuinely consider sending his receptionist to bring Will his meal, but he can't have that liability on his head, especially with the FBI around so often recently. He gets up out of his chair for the fifth time, looks around aimlessly, and sits back down again with a heavy sigh. The bourbon in his drawer is calling his name right about now, and he picks a glass from his shelf and pours himself a double, staring at the tumbler on his desk. Debating. Going downstairs slightly impaired wouldn't be the wisest decision he'd ever made, but it certainly wouldn't be the worst.

He flips open his laptop, already knowing what he's going to find. Will on his cot, back arched, head thrown to the side. Frederick's face burns at the memory of his patient's hand on his throat making him come in his pants like a desperate teenager with barely a touch, and he reaches for his glass and downs it in one go without thinking. Pouring himself another, he looks back at his screen. Will is naked from the waist up today, eyes closed, one hand working his exposed cock and the other buried down his jumpsuit, out of sight. Frederick feels his blood rush south, figures he still has a good 10 minutes-- he could get his headphones, turn his sound on, come to this footage right now, and nobody would be the wiser.

But part of him... part of him wants to wait, even though he knows better. Waiting is what got him in trouble yesterday, but he wants to get caught with a hard-on again; he wants Will's permission to finish. He wants to be belittled for being so desperate that a few fingers on his neck got him off, and he flushes at the thought of his patient mocking him for being so sensitive. More than anything, he wants to come with that hand around his throat again, and the whimper he lets out at the thought is absolutely pitiful. He curses himself under his breath and knocks back the second bourbon, rubbing himself roughly through his trousers. Frederick's far past half-mast at this point, nearly at full potential, and he figures he has nothing but self esteem to lose.

He texts Sophie, asks her to go pick up a salad and whatever she wants for lunch. On him, of course. Her shadow moves past the crack under his door a few minutes later, her footsteps fade, and he lets his head fall back against his chair for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before he gets to his feet. Glancing back at his laptop, he sees Will's turned himself around so he's facing his cell door. Waiting for him. His cock jumps against his thigh, the heavy apprehension in his stomach adding to his arousal, and he nearly moans out loud. He forgoes his jacket today, both in a hurry and wanting Will to be able to see exactly what kind of shape he's in-- putting himself on display for his patient-- and heads for the elevator.

The ride down seems to take twice as long as yesterday, and Frederick shoves a hand in his pocket, teasing himself through the thin fabric. Impatient. Wanting to get off, but needing Will to see, to watch him, to know the effect he has on him. The ding of the elevator startles him and he jerks his head up, whipping his hand guiltily out of his pocket even though he's alone in the building. Will's lunch is prepared again, waiting in the fridge, and he makes a mental note to thank the morning staff when he gets a chance. He takes the tray and elbows the refrigerator shut, giving himself a once-over in the reflective metal for the second time this week, adjusting his cock a bit to lay at what he hopes is a more flattering angle.

The damp patch forming on the inside of his tasteful grey boxer briefs feels amazing, slick against his cock, and he pauses to adjust himself again as he heads down to the cells, not wanting to get so overstimulated that he comes in ten seconds flat. The bars swing open and he's greeted with a half naked Will shamelessly staring him down. Frederick makes full eye contact and refuses to let his nerves get the better of him, raising the tray towards his patient and striding as evenly as he can towards the cell, doing his best to fake the confidence that abandoned him halfway down the steps. Will gives him one of those crooked smiles that make his knees go a bit weak and gets to his feet, Frederick trying to hide his disappointment as his patient tucks his cock away and knots the arms of his jumpsuit around his waist.

Will takes his lunch and thanks the doctor, setting the tray down by his cot again before turning back. His patient sizes him up, letting his eyes rake over him, and Frederick looks down at his feet, feeling himself shrink under the appraising look. His cock is painfully hard and for a brief moment he pictures himself begging, getting to his knees and pleading, confessing to Will how badly he needs to be touched; how long it's been. He's not quite at that level of desperation yet, thank god, and he dares a heated glance back up at Will through his eyelashes.

His patient doesn't notice though, more interested in his... left pocket? Frederick looks back down, and immediately wishes he could sink into the floor-- Will's gaze is fixed on the obvious wet spot at the top of his thigh, and his hand instinctively flies to his crotch to cover the growing stain.

"Did you get started without me?" Will grins, daringly insolent for a man at Frederick's mercy.

Frederick reddens and grits his teeth, Will's mocking tone sending a shiver of arousal through him, his hand clamped firmly to his leg as another few drops of precome leak from his cock. His patient’s forearm appears in his view, reaching for his waist, and he lets himself be pulled up against the cold bars. An arm is hooked tight around his lower back before he knows it, holding him firmly in place as Will’s free hand toys with his fly, and he whimpers before he can stop himself.

“Gonna make a mess in these pants too, Doctor?”

The smugness in his patient's voice is maddening, but Frederick can do nothing except whimper again and nod, loathing himself for being so needy.

Will undoes his button easily and slides two fingers under his waistband to tug his fly open, and Frederick bites his tongue at the brief grating vibrations of the zipper. He restrains himself though, and he's rewarded with a hand at his collar; a thumb running up his throat before tracing his jaw. He moans, and Will's thumb is in his mouth, knuckles under his chin tilting his head up to look his patient in the face, Will smiling approvingly as he eagerly sucks the digit farther into his mouth. Frederick works at it for a moment, the pad of Will's calloused thumb rough against his tongue, and his eyes flutter shut in concentration as he teases the finger in his mouth like he would a cock; sucking gently, just enough to hollow his cheeks, his tongue diligently stroking the underside of his patient's thumb.

Frederick lets out a disappointed whine when his new toy is pulled away, but Will's hands are back on him before he can open his eyes, at his waist this time. He breathes in sharply as his trousers are roughly pushed open, exposing the full outline of his erection and the dark stain sitting just over the tip. His patient traces his cock lightly, running his finger over the still-growing wet spot, and Frederick moans again.

"Impressive, Doctor,” Will grins, and Frederick flushes at the compliment.

He wants to feel skin against his own, Will’s hand warm on his cock, and the mental image of his patient jerking him off-- milking him for all he’s worth, and then some--  is nearly enough to send Frederick over the edge. He rocks his hips forward into Will's touch as best he can and whines, an invitation to take more, but Will shakes his head.

"So needy today,” he chides, hooking a finger under Frederick's waistband and pulling, letting the elastic go with a snap.

Frederick gasps at the light sting and his hips rock forward again, this time of their own accord. He has no doubt Will can hear how heavy his breathing is; could probably hear his heartbeat if it was any louder, and the urge to drop to the floor and beg is back. He would've fallen to his knees right there if Will hadn't slid the hand on his lower back down to his ass, holding him in place against the bars. Frederick moans, tips his head back, baring his neck for Will, but his patient has other plans today. Will presses the heel of his hand tight against Frederick's shaft and grinds down in tight circles, simultaneously teasing the head of his cock through his damp underwear with two long fingers.

Frederick's eyes snap open wide and he manages a small "Fuck, Will --" before his knees nearly buckle under him.

He's helpless to do anything but watch as his come soaks through his trunks, the damp spot on his thigh doubling, tripling in size before streaking down towards his knee. It's all he can do to not collapse on rather shaky, boneless-feeling legs, and he likely would have if not for Will's arm around him. He takes a few deep breaths, gathering himself.

Will carefully lets him go and kneels down, Frederick thinking he must've dropped his cane again without knowing it. He has his cane in a deathgrip, though, he realizes, and he looks down in time to make eye contact with Will before his patient presses his face to the bars and licks at Frederick's cock. He's not rough, even through the cotton barrier between them, but the aftershock that hits Frederick is painfully strong, and he cries out as he feels the last few drops of his come soak into the fabric.

Will grins up at him from his knees and licks his lips, and Frederick can feel his face burning, but he can't look away. Will grabs the bars by Frederick’s waist and pulls himself to his feet, not breaking eye contact, and Frederick admires the way his bare chest and shoulders tense and relax; the way his jumpsuit has come untied, and how his cock is clearly visible, hard and tempting.  

Frederick stutters out an offer. “I can... do you want--” he reaches through the bars, gesturing at Will’s erection. “Can I help...?”

Will laughs and pushes his hand away. “Do you think you deserve it?”

Frederick inhales, bites his lower lip and shakes his head, obediently withdrawing his hand.

Will smiles, grabbing his tie and pulling him back up against the cell, carefully doing his pants back up for him. “Good boy,” he praises Frederick softly, sending a shiver down his spine, “I knew you’d understand.”

Frederick exhales shakily and steps back, smoothing down his front, trying not to stare too longingly at Will’s cock. “Well...” he offers. “I better get back to... you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Will winks at him, looking pointedly up at the camera facing his cell, and Frederick blushes and hangs his head, turning towards the steps. “I hope you enjoy the show, Doctor. ” Will tosses at his retreating back, and Frederick doesn’t turn back this time, but he can hear the smile in his voice.

Frederick somehow makes it back to his office before his legs give out completely, letting himself fall into his chair, exhausted. He’s absolutely drained, still shaking, and the most he can manage is to unbutton his pants and push them halfway down his thighs along with his soaked boxer briefs.

He flips his laptop open and pours another drink with unsteady hands, nearly dropping the whole bottle of bourbon into his lap when someone knocks on his door. His cock twitches and his stomach drops; he curses under his breath and slams his computer closed again, squirming back into his pants as best he can. He tugs the zipper up as far as possible and gives up on the button completely, grimacing at the cold, wet cloth against his sensitive skin.

“It’s open.”

He buries his nose in a file and slides his chair forward, cramming himself against the desk, visibly relieved when the door opens and it’s just his receptionist. She gives him a curious look but says nothing, just waves a plastic container of salad at him, and he hastily gestures over his papers at the table next to the door. She sets his lunch down and backs out of the room, leaving him to his work.

"Thank you, Sophie!” He suddenly remembers his manners and half-shouts after her as she leaves, earning himself an exaggerated eye roll.

The door closes behind her and he lets out a heavy breath, slumping down in his chair, completely drained of all energy. He opens his computer again but doesn’t bother going for his headphones, absentmindedly rubbing his cock as he watches, half-hard again after nearly being caught with his pants down, quite literally. It’s barely two minutes before Will’s back arches and he finishes on his own stomach, and Frederick moans quietly at the sight. He gives himself a moment to catch his breath, then digs out his flash drive to burn a second video to it before he deletes the footage.

He pulls himself to his feet; for a moment he considers going straight for his salad, but if he sits down again, he’s not getting back up. So he locks his door, drags himself to the bathroom, kicks his sticky clothes off and into the corner. He dampens a hand towel and looks down at the drying mess he made with embarrassment, glad the full extent of his complete lack of self-control was at least partially hidden from Will.

Chapter Text

FRIDAY, 01:38

 Frederick drags himself downstairs to make a cup of chamomile tea after staring unseeingly at his walls for an hour, unable to sleep. All he can think about is Will; Will’s hands on him, Will showing off for him, Will making him come with little more than words. Will wanting him. He gets back up out of bed at two for a drink of water, and again at quarter to three to relieve himself, and Christ, why is it so warm in his room?

There’s no way he’s getting to work on time today, and he reaches for his phone, squinting against the blinding light as he fumbles to turn his alarm off. He’s too tired, and he’s too hot, and he’s too fucking hard to sleep. Cursing his lack of self control, he gives in sometime after three, rolling over onto his back and springing to full attention as he wriggles halfway out of his sweat-dampened underwear.

Will spread out half-naked on his cot, on full display for Frederick’s security camera, knowing full well he was getting off on watching.

Frederick groans out loud, kicking his blankets off and pulling the pillow out from under his head, tossing it aside. He rubs at his cock, hot against his lower stomach, and moans in relief at the stimulation. He’s been hard for hours, painfully so, and his warm fist is a welcome outlet.

The brief look of surprise on Will’s face when he slid his fingers under Frederick’s waistband, quickly turning to dawning realization as he inadvertently dragged his hand through Frederick’s come.

Frederick has nobody to impress. He digs his heels into the mattress, thighs flexing hard, back arching off the bed as he jerks himself fast and rough. This is really what he’s been needing all night; barely two minutes and he’s already on the edge, not bothering to stifle his moans. Three more hard strokes and he’s finishing over his hand with a shout, tightening his grip just below the head of his throbbing cock as he works himself through his orgasm, panting out Will’s name without thinking.

Come dripping down his fist, pooling on his stomach, he draws in a few shaky breaths. Once his capacity to process thoughts has returned he curses himself a second time and kicks his underwear off of trembling legs, using it to wipe his hand. He rubs weakly at the mess on his abdomen, mopping up the majority of his come, before tossing his wet, sticky boxer briefs aside.

He barely registers hearing them land in the corner before he’s curled up around his pillow, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. Another thirty seconds and he’s completely unconscious, snoring softly as he hugs his pillow tighter to his chest.

It’s been years since he’s slept in past ten, and Frederick swears aloud when he wakes up and groggily checks his phone. Somehow it’s nearly eleven. He bolts out of bed and limps to the bathroom as fast as he can, grabbing socks and underwear on the way. Turning the water on to heat up, he glances down in mild irritation at his very severe case of morning wood, bobbing temptingly under his nose. He considers it for a moment, but it’s already so late...

Instead he flips the shower to cold, grimacing at the freezing assault as he steps into the water. Whether he wants to admit it to himself or not, he doesn’t want to be completely drained for Will. He got himself off to thoughts of his patient mere hours ago, and fully intends to let Will do whatever he wants to him today; to touch him however he sees fit. His cock stirs lightly at the thought despite the icy torrent, and he directs a frown downwards as if it’ll assist in willing himself to get under control.

He towels off and quickly brushes his teeth, running a hand through his hair twice in the mirror and deciding to forgo a shave this morning for the sake of time. Never having been one for breakfast, he pulls on one of the few clean suits left in his closet and grabs his cane, heading straight out the door.

He arrives at the BSHCI with four minutes to spare, pointedly ignoring his receptionist’s look as he unlocks his office and tosses his bag and coat inside. Sophie’s openly staring again as he turns and makes his way back towards the elevator, and he fixes her with a withering glare-- the kind that she’s been immune to for months now. All he gets is an unabashed grin, and he shakes his head as he jabs at the elevator button, thinking fondly back to the days when employees were intimidated by him.

Heat pools low in his stomach as he heads downstairs to the cells, unsure as to how he’ll find Will today, but daring to hope for a state of undress similar to yesterday. He doesn’t bother hiding the disappointment on his face when the door swings open and his patient is fully clothed, white t-shirt and navy jumpsuit knotted at the waist, sitting cross-legged on the bed. As he approaches the cell, Will opens his eyes and immediately notes the look on Frederick’s face.

“Oh...” Will feigns dismay. “Certainly you can’t be expecting a reward every time you come down here?” He grins, rising to his feet and relieving Frederick of the lunch tray.

Frederick flushes, biting his lip, and drops his gaze to the ground. He’s fully hard, and he knows Will can see; there’s no point in hiding it. He keeps his eyes glued to the floor and takes a nervous step forward.

“I jerked off to you this morning.” Frederick confesses softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He strokes himself over his pants to illustrate his point, hand closing tight around his clothed erection, and the back of his neck burns as he feels Will’s eyes on him. Appraising him.

“Was it the first time?” Will asks quietly, evenly; reaching out through the bars to carefully straighten Frederick’s collar. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it.

Frederick hesitates, considers lying for a moment, but shakes his head at his feet after a moment of silence. “No.”

His breath hitches as Will’s knuckles stroke lightly over his throat; a brief, gentle brush, and he moans out loud before he can stop himself. His patient’s hands are cool, yet at the same time his touch is somehow searing, and Frederick leans into it, silently begging for his neck to be branded with a new memory.

Will withdraws his hand, though, and Frederick whimpers in protest at the loss of contact, finally looking up. His patient’s gaze is dark, fixed on the hard outline of his cock, and Frederick bites his lip. He takes a breath and tries to fight the heat rising high on his cheeks as he slowly moves his hand back to his fly, grasping himself through his trousers. Giving the base of his erection a few hard jerks, he moans softly, inwardly pleased to see the way Will’s knuckles whiten at the sound.

He tightens his grip and groans as Will slowly sinks to a kneeling position on his side of the bars, watching intently, and the sight of that dark head of curls at his waist is nearly enough to do him in. Stroking his entire length-- slow, tight-- he coaxes several drops of precome to the tip of his cock, palming his head firmly so Will can watch his pants soak through.

Will lets out a noise of approval as he watches the small stain bloom through Frederick’s gray trousers, and he reaches out to rub lightly at it with a fingertip. He runs a single finger down the length of Frederick’s cock, flashing a predatory grin upwards as the doctor whimpers under his touch, twitching involuntarily.

Frederick moans and pushes his hips into his own palm, grinding hard against his hand for Will, desperate to show his patient how eager he is. He closes his fist around himself again; short, firm strokes as he quickly works himself towards his orgasm. Breathing picking up, he tips his head back and moans, closing his eyes and cursing under his breath as he feels his cock leak again.

“Ahh... fuck--”

Will’s hand is on his wrist seconds before he finishes, stilling his motions. Frederick whines; pathetic, needy, as his hips jerk forward, but Will’s hold stays tight as he pulls Frederick’s hand to his mouth, pressing a careful kiss to the doctor’s knuckles. Will wraps an arm around his waist, pulling Frederick in tight, placing a second kiss on his fly. Not hard enough to offer any stimulation, just a light, teasing touch, but the visual alone is one of the most arousing things Frederick’s ever seen.

“Will, god-- ” he gasps, “please.”

Will kisses Frederick's cock through his trousers again, smiling at the resulting frustrated groan. He shifts his weight back and slowly gets to his feet, dragging a hand up the inside of Frederick's thigh, eyes never leaving his face. His jumpsuit comes untied and falls open as he straightens up, slipping a few inches down his waist, and Frederick can’t help but stare.

“You know,” his patient leans close, voice low. “I wasn't joking about not giving you a reward, Doctor.”

Frederick’s breath hitches and he whimpers quietly; his eyes flick down towards his erection, pressed hard against his zipper, and back up at Will, pleading.

“Aww,” Will steps forward, gently taking Frederick’s jaw in his hand, running a thumb over his lower lip. “I know, baby.”

Frederick blushes and he exhales sharply; his cock throbbing hard at the endearment, at Will’s patronizing tone. He tips his head into his patient’s touch, moaning quietly as he licks Will’s thumb, bites lightly at his palm.

“So eager to please when you’re this desperate, aren’t you?” Will runs his fingers through Frederick's hair, finally releasing his wrist in favor of raising an arm above his head to lean against the bars.

Frederick lets his eyes openly wander over Will’s newly exposed midriff, impulsively starting to reach out towards his patient’s waist, but thinking better. His restraint is rewarded with a small but genuine smile from Will; whispered praise, and a thumb carefully stroking his cheek.

“I’m sure you have somewhere to be, don’t you?” Will asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his clothing slipping another inch downwards.

“Jesus--" Frederick nearly chokes, staring wide-eyed.

Will’s glaring lack of underwear finally reveals the full extent of his arousal-- his cock fully hard, laying against his thigh. The head of his erection is red, shiny, slick with precome, and Frederick’s jaw drops, his mouth watering at the sight.

“Tell you what, Doctor.” Will is driving Frederick crazy, and he knows it. He’s enjoying it. “You be a good boy today, and maybe tomorrow I’ll let you touch.”

“But-- tomorrow is Saturday.” Frederick can’t tear his eyes away.

“Well I guess you’ll have to be a good boy until Monday, then,” Will laughs, swiping a thumb over the head of his own drooling cock and bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean.

The groan that Frederick lets out is obscene; he nods without thinking, eyes still fixed on Will’s erection.

“No jerking off, not even to me,” Will grins. “Flattering as that is."

Frederick blushes and nods again, finally looking back up at his patient.

“I know you have work to do; you’d better get back.” Will jerks his head towards the stairs, clearly dismissing him.

The cockiness in Will’s voice would be infuriating coming from anyone else under any other circumstances, but right now it does nothing but add to Frederick’s arousal. He takes a deep breath and reluctantly turns to leave, yelping as his patient swats at his ass. His hand flies to the base of his cock, squeezing tight to keep from coming in his pants for the third time this week, and he glares accusingly over his shoulder at Will.

“Glad you’re bringing the beard back,” Will’s smiling again. “It looks good on you. See you Monday, Doc.”

Chapter Text

MONDAY, 07:09

 Being woken by a text at seven in the morning isn’t an ideal start to any day, and Frederick rolls over with a vocal protest. He shakes the pins and needles out of his hand and exhales sharply, cursing under his breath as he raps his knuckles hard on the edge of his nightstand. Scowling, he reaches for his phone to check his texts.

07:08 - S. Matthews: Doc says it’s pneumonia. Think I might need this week off.

His initial half-awake reaction is irritation bordering on anger, but overwhelming relief follows close behind. Will’s still going to need someone to bring him lunch. He smiles to himself, glancing down at his morning erection as he taps out a reply, remembering Will’s promise.

07:11 - F. Chilton: Take as much time as you need. Thanks for letting me know.

He silences the phone and tosses it across the room into his armchair where the vibrations won’t wake him, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the early morning sunlight. After nearly half an hour of tossing and turning he groans, caving and rolling onto his stomach, rocking his hips slowly into the mattress. This doesn’t technically count as jerking off, he supposes, and he needs the relief, temporary though it may be.

Sighing, he stretches out, arms above his head. He has a brief memory of swearing he’d never be reduced to dry humping, but he pushes it out of his mind, instead shoving a spare pillow under his hips. The added friction feels amazing after nearly 3 days of exercising remarkable self-restraint, and he moans, losing himself to thoughts of Will; thoughts of how he’d love to strip bare and be held against those bars for his patient to use in any way he desired, helpless to resist; thoughts of how those long fingers would feel in his mouth, on his cock, in his ass.

He slowly picks up his pace, grinding hard into his pillow as he whimpers Will’s name against the sheets, feeling a wet spot start to form under the head of his cock. Shifting his weight onto his elbows and knees, his shoulders tense as he lets his erection drag lightly over the slick patch, teasing himself. He shakes hair damp with sweat out of his face, breathing hard, and-- he jumps as his alarm goes off across the room.

Swearing, he lets himself fall back down onto his stomach, lazily rutting against his pillow a few more times before rolling over and swinging his legs off the bed. He groans and gets to his feet, padding over to retrieve his phone, glaring at the offending device as he turns the alarm off.

He turns the shower to cold for the fourth day in a row, shivering under the steady stream. Nearly certain the no touching himself rule doesn’t apply in non-sexual situations, he soaps up, paying extra attention to his nether regions. Maybe a little too much attention, he realizes, catching himself lathering his still half-hard cock for upwards of a good three minutes. He guiltily pulls his hand away, quickly finishes rinsing off, and steps out of the shower.

Fishing through his drawers for a clean undershirt, he comes up empty-handed and eyes the overflowing laundry basket in the corner. He can’t put it off any longer. He picks a ratty old t-shirt out of the back of his bottom drawer and pulls it on along with a pair of tight boxer briefs, grabbing the hamper and limping downstairs, kicking at the socks and underwear that fall out. The whole lot gets dumped unceremoniously next to the washing machine, and Frederick drags himself back upstairs to finish getting dressed.

His last clean suit is a plain black fitted one-- and very, very small, he quickly realizes with dismay. Instead he settles for a pair of dark jeans and a soft gray button down under a relatively clean blazer from last week, and his dirty suits are hastily swept up, stuffed into a laundry bag, and tossed down the stairs. Frederick grabs his cane and follows close behind, slipping his shoes on at the door with clothes and bag in tow.

He takes one step outside and immediately trips over a small hoard of boxes on his doorstep, swearing as he nearly goes flying face first down the steps. Friday night’s slightly tipsy Amazon purchases, he remembers, tossing them carelessly inside the front door and locking it behind him.

It’s not even half past ten yet, but when you’re the boss you can do whatever you want, and what Frederick wants is to have a drink. His hands are already shaking as he flips his laptop open and pours himself a double, and he chalks it up to low blood sugar even though he knows better. He downs the glass slowly, scrolling through emails from over the weekend, checking his security cameras every now and then. Camera, really-- he’s only interested in the one.

Flipping through some old files, only half-reading them, he pours another drink and tries not to glance at the clock every five minutes. A paper that a colleague had asked him to read is buried under a stack of old patient files, and Frederick scans it briefly, but catches himself reading the same paragraph over and over again, realizes he doesn’t even know what the paper is about, and tosses it aside with a sigh. Instead he settles back in his chair and closes his eyes, nursing his drink and letting his mind wander.

If only he’d met Will under better circumstances. He could be at home right now, curled up under a blanket on the couch, his head on Will’s shoulder. He could be making dinner in his kitchen while Will insists he’ll set the table, but instead takes it upon himself to sneak up behind Frederick and distract him with careful kisses to his face and neck. He could come home after a long day at work and step under the hot shower, Will joining him to gently wash his hair and rub the stress from his shoulders... maybe run a warm, soapy hand over his ass. He could thank Will for being there for him by sinking to his knees, kissing up his thighs and across his hips...

No jerking off, he reminds himself, moving his hands away from his lap. He resigns himself to squirming in his chair, rocking his hips up into empty air, the small amount of friction from his jeans barely more than a teasing pressure against his cock. Spreading his legs, forcing the fabric tighter over his erection, he moans quietly and sinks lower in the chair, pushes his hips higher.

He can see Will on his screen, and his stomach drops when he realizes that sometime in the last ten minutes he’s undressed considerably; shirt now gone and jumpsuit tied low on his waist. Stretched out on the bed, his patient has a forearm behind his head, other arm resting on his stomach, hand buried between his legs.

Will’s tiny movements slowly become more aggressive as Frederick watches; notices his hand lightly toying with his balls through his clothes. His patient’s hips start to move in rhythm, thrusting upwards over and over, cock pinned against the inside of his forearm as his hand continues to move, squeeze.

Frederick adopts the same rhythm, barely realizing it as he rocks in his chair, and he stifles another moan as precome leaks into his underwear. It takes every last ounce of restraint, but he manages to keep his grip on the arms of his chair, hands safely away from his cock. He could easily come like this, and he considers it; considers going downstairs with a sticky mess in his pants just to see Will’s reaction; considers standing just out of his patient’s reach and pushing a hand down the front of his own trousers, licking come off of his fingers.

He considers it, but Will promised to let him touch if he was good, and he’s more desperate for Will’s cock than he ever would’ve imagined. He stills in his seat, fingers aching as he finally lets his tight grip on the chair loosen. Letting out a slow breath and trying to calm his nerves, he tosses back the rest of his drink and gets to his feet.

His jeans are dark enough to hide the fact that his erection is pressed tight against his fly, but he tucks himself into his waistband just to be sure before he leaves his office. Sophie’s away from her desk yet again doing god knows what, and her timing couldn’t have been more of a mercy.

Frederick steps out of the kitchen wielding his cane and Will’s lunch, and takes a deep breath before he heads down the stairs, steeling himself.

“Hey, Doctor,” Will grins from the bed; glances down at his cock in his own hand and back up at Frederick. “I was just thinking about you.”

Off to a rough start, Frederick’s face is already reddening at the remark. He pushes Will’s lunch through the door with little ceremony, biting his lip, openly staring as his patient gets to his feet.

Will doesn’t bother reassembling himself, and Frederick can’t help but eye his cock as he approaches the bars. Will accepts his lunch, stepping much closer than necessary, then recoils in mock disgust. “Have you been drinking?”

“I had a drink.” Frederick shrugs dismissively. “Three,” he amends after a pause.

Will turns his back for a moment to set his food down. “Not afraid I’m gonna take advantage of you?”

“Afraid you wouldn’t,” Frederick throws back, emboldened by the alcohol in his system.

“Is that what you want, Doctor?”

Frederick nods, mouth open slightly as he watches Will's hand return to his erection, stroking slowly.

“Were you a good boy this weekend?” Will drops his voice to a lower register; reaches between the bars to put two fingers under Frederick’s chin, tipping his head up to look him in the eye.

“Yeah-- yes,” Frederick breathes. “Please...”

Will’s hands drop to Frederick’s waist, unfastening his button. “Please what?”

“Can I...” Frederick’s voice cracks and he trails off, flushes.

“Can you...?” Will prompts, moving on to Frederick’s zipper and tugging his trousers open.

“Please...” Frederick isn’t embarrassed by crude language, not directly at least. “Can I touch your cock?” What he is ashamed of is how much it turns him on, having to explicitly ask for what he wants.

“How do you want to touch me, Doctor? ” Will’s hands don’t stop; he pushes Frederick’s pants down his thighs, grins as the doctor squirms under his touch.

Frederick exhales, looks down at the ground. “I want...” he struggles for the words. “I’d like to wrap my hand around you. Make you feel good...”

“And?”

“And--” Frederick chokes on a breath as Will runs a finger under the waistband of his underwear, pulls them down a few inches, exposing half of his erection.

“And?” Will’s grip is gentle but firm, and he takes Frederick’s cock in his hand, thumb resting just under the head.

He gasps and drops his cane, grabbing the bars instead, hips rocking forward into Will’s fist of their own accord. “And suck you off, if--” this is the first time his patient has touched him; actually touched him, and Frederick grits his teeth against the stimulation, desperate not to spend himself so soon. “Suck you off, if you’ll-- fuck-- if you’ll let me,” he grinds out, breathing heavily.

“Show me.”

Frederick stands dumbly, staring down at the hand on his cock and trying to process what his patient wants.

“Show me how badly you want it.” Will releases Frederick to readjust his waistband, pulling it down far enough to tuck behind his balls, smiling at the resulting whine.

His eyes flick to his patient’s cock and back up to his face, and Frederick licks his lips. He slowly, stiffly gets to his knees; looks back up at Will for permission. His stomach is tight, a knot of nerves and arousal, but he has no intention of stopping now, and he lets out a slow breath. Reaching through the bars he takes hold of Will and strokes him slowly, mimicking the way he watched his patient tease the head of his cock last week.

Frederick sighs happily as Will runs fingers through his hair, hand coming to rest on the back of his neck; a warm, encouraging weight. He can’t take his eyes off of Will, mesmerized by the way veins move under his fist, and he moans quietly, leans closer as precome wells up to the tip of his patient’s cock. He’s hard, dripping, but his own arousal couldn’t be any further from his mind, and he moves his hand down, carefully rolling Will’s balls between his fingers and admiring the way Will’s body responds, cock twitching right in front of Frederick’s face.

“You know,” Will steps closer, taking a hold of the base of his own erection, “you look even prettier on your knees than I imagined.”

Will has thought about this. Frederick whimpers, looks up at his patient.

Will lets his hand fall from Frederick’s neck, gently rubbing his jaw, and slowly guides the very head of his cock into the doctor’s half-open mouth. He lets out a heavy breath as he watches Frederick lick at him eagerly, swallowing every bit of precome that he can, and shifts forward, allowing him another inch through the bars. He has to bite back a moan when Frederick happily takes it, closing his lips around Will and sucking gently.

Frederick lets his eyes fall shut, just concentrating on how Will feels in his mouth, how he tastes. A happy sigh escapes him as Will’s hand finds its way back to his neck, and he sucks harder, tongue working the underside of his patient’s erection, pressing the head up into his hard palate. He’s rewarded with a heavy throb of Will’s cock on his tongue; another salty burst of precome, and he groans at the taste.

“Is this what you wanted, Doctor?” Will threads his fingers through Frederick’s hair again, holding him still against the bars.

Frederick’s cock twitches at his words, and he mumbles an affirmation around the cock in his mouth.

Will’s hand stays where it is, but he pulls his hips backwards, slipping from Frederick’s mouth. The doctor can’t do anything but watch, pinned tight to the bars, as a strand of saliva connecting his tongue to Will’s cock slowly stretches, then snaps. He looks up at his patient with big desperate eyes and whines, reaches for him.

Will stops him with a firm hand on his wrist and offers two fingers to Frederick instead, which the doctor happily accepts, sucking greedily at his hand. He shifts his weight, feeling Frederick’s mouth loosen slightly around his fingers, much more interested in Will’s cock as he swings it deliberately, infuriatingly close to Frederick’s face. Will releases his wrist with a warning look and watches Frederick obediently bring his arm back down to his side, fingers digging into his own thigh.

“Good boy.” Will watches his eyes widen at the praise, pushes his cock through the bars again, ignoring Frederick’s waiting mouth. Instead, he presses himself against the doctor’s face, thrusting lightly a few times and leaving a shiny trail high on his cheek.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Will lets the tip of his cock slip back into Frederick’s mouth, and the doctor moans out loud. He sucks hard, tight, tonguing his patient’s slit with every thrust, and he can tell how close Will is; another release of precome, his balls drawn up tight. Will’s self-control is commendable, his movements slow, measured, never letting Frederick have more than three inches-- the doctor whimpers as Will’s cock is pulled from his mouth again, and he looks up.

“Do you think you can come like this?” Will asks quietly, brushing a stray hair from Frederick’s face.

He nods, eyes wide, and slips a hand down to adjust his underwear, pulling them halfway up over his painfully hard cock.

Will tightens his grip in Frederick’s hair and lets him take his erection back into his mouth. Frederick’s tiny suckling noises only serve to spur him on, and he pushes his hips flush against the bars, movements stuttering as Frederick swallows his gag reflex, throat constricting hard around his cock.

It has to have been twenty minutes already, maybe half an hour, and Frederick’s cock is hard, red, a thin trail of precome running down the underside and soaking into his boxer briefs. He rocks on his knees, thrusting lightly back and forth into his waistband, and god it feels good. Forgetting himself for a moment he moans loudly around Will, desperately rocking his pelvis up into empty air, and he feels his patient’s cock pulse on his tongue.

He pulls off of Will’s cock with an obscene wet popping noise. “ Fuck, I’m--” grabbing the bars, he buries his face in an elbow as he comes, unable to last any longer.

Will watches Frederick finish, the doctor spilling himself all over his own shirt and stomach, come running down into his jeans, less intense aftershocks sending a white trail dripping down his thick shaft. He takes his own cock in his hand, an inch from Frederick's face, and strokes himself hard and fast.

The doctor recovers enough to open his mouth again, waiting, but Will flashes him an impish smile, and Frederick can’t do anything but watch helplessly as he throws his head back and groans. Come spurts onto his bare stomach and streaks down his fist, flowing over his fingers, and Frederick lets out the tiniest noise at the sight, his mouth still open.

Will tightens his fist, coaxes the last few drop of come out of himself, and looks down at Frederick. And then both to the doctor’s arousal as well as abject horror... he runs his sticky hand through Frederick’s hair.

The doctor opens his mouth to protest, but instead of words coming out, it’s a quiet moan, and where did that come from? Will grins at him and extends his clean hand down to help Frederick to his feet, tucking his softening cock back into his damp underwear and gently fastening his jeans back up for him.

Will winks at him, musses his hair again before pulling Frederick in close for a kiss. He grabs the doctor’s ass, squeezes. “The scruff is hot, I’m glad you kept it.”

Once safely locked in his office, Frederick shrugs off his sweaty, come-stained clothes and kicks them into the corner. He pulls on the clean clothes he’s taken to keeping in his office and flops down on the couch with his laptop, figuratively and literally drained. He wakes up before he even realizes he’s drifted off, and it’s already quarter to six. He swears, shoving his dirty clothes and computer into his bag, and slips his shoes on, locking his office behind him.

Chapter Text

TUESDAY, 08:04

Frederick turns over, blinking away the remnants of a dream about his patient and fumbling for the alarm. He hisses softly as he rolls onto his stomach, inadvertently pinning his fully hard cock between hip and mattress. To his mild surprise, his underwear are already soaked through, and he slides an experimental hand under himself, rutting lightly into his palm.

Not come, he’s relieved to find, and he pushes his hips against his hand again, harder. It’s been years since he’s woken up this hard, this aroused, and he immediately takes advantage of his state without thinking, tightening a hand halfway down his shaft. His hips fall into a slow, steady rhythm as he fucks his fist, cock pressed against the bed, and the pillow does very little to silence his moans as he works himself up.

More precome leaks onto his wrist just as his alarm goes off again, and he groans and kicks the covers off, rolling out of bed and limping towards the bathroom. He glances at himself in the mirror, running knuckles over half a week’s worth of scruff and briefly considers shaving, but decides against it. Will likes the beard. For the first time in nearly a week he allows himself a well-deserved warm shower, slightly more awake now, and stoically ignores his erection.

Towel knotted around his waist, he steps back into the bedroom to get dressed, but stops to eye the small stack of Amazon packages in the armchair. No time like the present. He picks one at random-- a small plastic mailer-- and tears into it, letting his towel fall to the floor as he stares at the contents in dismay. They got the color right but... these can’t possibly be the correct size?

Somehow they fit, though, and Frederick examines himself in the mirror for several minutes, on the verge of chickening out. He turns to the side and immediately grimaces as the light briefly catches his scar, instinctively heading for the dresser to dig out clean clothes and cover up. He buttons his shirt and as he turns back to face the mirror, still half hard, he catches a glance of himself in nearly full profile, and what he sees isn’t half bad.

He hesitates a moment longer, absentmindedly running a hand over his cock, then shakes his head and pulls the rest of his clothes on. What's the worst that could happen?

On the way to work, he stops by the dry cleaners to collect his suits, refusing to make eye contact with the woman behind the counter-- he knows exactly what condition those clothes were in when he dropped them off. Frederick mutters a ‘thank you’ at the floor and tips her an extra twenty before retreating to the safety of his car.

He sits in his dark office for several minutes, considering moving to the couch and continuing this morning’s activities. He could get himself primed for his patient, edge himself for a couple hours until lunch, come in his pants right in front of Will without even needing to be touched. He leans back and rubs at himself through his clothes, moaning quietly at the feel of the underwear he bought just for Will smooth against his rapidly hardening cock.

He’s at full mast in less than a minute, erection warm against his skin where it’s pinned tight to his hip, and he runs a thumb over the head. He tips his chair back, working two fingers between his legs to tease his balls and-- too sensitive already. He won’t last like this, and he curses under his breath, wrapping a tight fist around the base of his cock and taking several slow, deep breaths.

The tension in his stomach slowly unwinds, and Frederick stands on unsteady legs, adjusting himself in his pants as he walks over to flip the lights on. He blinks against the sudden brightness a few times, then plops back down in his chair, shuffling through the papers on his desk to distract himself.

Chewing on his pen, he scans over a referral request and digs a notepad out, but his hands are nearly as shaky as his legs, rendering his usually neat handwriting illegible. He tears the sheet of paper off and crumples it up, tossing it towards the trash can and starting over, only to give up on that one too and shove the pad of paper aside with a dramatic sigh. His nerves haven’t been this bad in months, and he pours himself a whiskey, swearing to himself to stop turning the drinking into such a habit but making it a double anyway. One for his shakes and one for his confidence.

It helps a bit, and his hands are finally steady enough to scrawl out the referral he was trying to write. He does his best to ignore the way he can feel his pounding heartbeat between his thighs, but the more he tries to focus on absolutely anything else, the worse it gets, and he ends up bent over the bathroom sink splashing cold water on his face. He turns to dry his hands and catches sight of himself in the full length mirror, and his fingers are at his waist in a heartbeat, slowly unbuttoning his jeans before he quite realizes what he’s doing.

He tugs his pants down a few inches, and examines himself for a moment. Blue is definitely his color, he has to admit-- light underwear stretched tight over his erection, a dark spot where he’s already starting to soak through, framed by his navy jeans. He palms at his cock, pleased with how he can see every last ridge and vein move with his hand, and gives himself a few more firm strokes before he refastens his pants and steps back into his office.

He doesn’t bother with his jacket as he heads to the elevator-- he heard Sophie leave for lunch while he was in the bathroom, and he wants to look as tempting as possible for his patient. The nervous tapping of his cane against the elevator floor punctuates the silence on the way down, and he finds himself pacing in the kitchen for the better part of ten minutes, struggling with his nerves.

What if Will doesn’t like them? Or worse, what if Will laughs at him?  He has two options-- two immediate options, anyway-- stay as is and risk being laughed at, or go commando with the certainty of looking desperate. Frederick still has a patient downstairs who needs to be fed, and he closes a hand around his cock again, the soft fabric against his skin spurring him to a decision. He carefully slides a hand into his jeans and adjusts himself, then smoothes down his front and fetches Will’s lunch from the fridge, steeling himself and making his way down to the cells.

“I see you brought me lunch, Doc.” Will winks and accepts the tray, his free hand snaking through the bars to palm at Frederick’s erection for a moment before he turns to set his food down.

Frederick exhales sharply, biting his tongue, and lets his eyes rake over Will as his patient turns his back momentarily.

“You look good in jeans,” Will notes, turning back, his meaning clear, eyes levelled at Frederick’s erection. He steps back to the bars and wraps an arm around the doctor’s waist, running a hand lightly over the curve of his ass.

Frederick whines and pushes back into his patient’s touch, and Will takes his assent as permission to be rougher. He gives the doctor a solid squeeze just above the top of his thigh, and Frederick gasps, forehead falling against the bars as Will’s firm grip spreads him the tiniest bit.

Steady hands slowly make their way from Frederick's ass to his waist, gently slipping under his shirt, and he shivers at Will’s light touch even though his patient’s skin is warm against his own. A single finger slides under his waistband, stopping just short of his erection, and Frederick whines, twitching in his pants, then immediately flinches away as Will’s thumb brushes over his scar. His heart rate doubles and his head snaps up to look at Will, whose hands are immediately withdrawn and raised in an apologetic gesture.

“You okay?”

An accident. Frederick nods and takes a deep breath, silently willing his heart to stop beating out of his chest. “I’m okay,” he reassures Will, but his patient doesn’t seem to be convinced, still looking at him with a worried expression.

Impatient, his hands still shaking with the fading rush of adrenaline, but blood already flooding back to his cock, Frederick carelessly drops his cane to the floor and presses himself up against Will’s cell. “I’m alright,” he insists, grabbing his patient’s wrists and tugging Will’s hands back towards his waist, “come on.”

Will’s worried look disappears as his face splits into a grin, and he grabs Frederick by the waist again, sinking his fingertips into the top of his ass. He roughly pulls Frederick towards him, forcing his hips tight up against the iron and watching with satisfaction as the doctor’s clothed erection fits almost perfectly between the bars.

Frederick tries in vain to thrust his hips up against the cell, his patient's hand, anything, but the angle Will has him at prevents any sort of contact whatsoever. He gasps as Will strokes his throat, his cock throbbing, still untouched, and sending more precome leaking into his underwear.

Will runs a thumb up the prominent outline of Frederick’s erection, letting out a small approving noise when his exploring digit finds the slick patch where the head of the doctor’s cock is trapped against his thigh. His hand slides under Frederick’s shirt again, this time going straight for the button of his jeans, tugging his pants open.

In the short moment it takes for Will to pull his zipper down, Frederick has the time to take one deep breath before Will freezes, staring at the lingerie he's sporting. His face is unreadable, and Frederick’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach, suddenly afraid he’s ruined everything.

"How did you know?” Will finally speaks again, his voice low, barely audible. He runs a single finger over the tiny blue bow resting on Frederick's happy trail, toying with it for a moment.

Frederick looks up to find Will’s eyes fixed hungrily on the delicate lingerie, and he’s barely able to swallow a sigh of relief as his confidence immediately surges back. Will likes them. “Lucky guess,” he shrugs.

“You gonna ruin them?”

Frederick twitches involuntarily at Will’s words, at his tone, and he nods eagerly, just wanting to please his patient.

Will slowly, painstakingly unbuttons his navy coveralls while Frederick watches from the other side of the bars, helpless as his patient pops button after button until his jumpsuit is hanging loosely around his hips. He strips out of his undershirt and tosses it aside, hands returning to Frederick’s ass and slipping under the lacy underwear to tease him, fingers stopping just short of his hole.

“God,” Frederick gasps, pushing back into Will’s touch, spreading his legs to give his patient better access.

Will grabs two handfuls of his ass and squeezes, roughly spreading him wide open, exposing him. He kneads at Frederick's tight muscles just hard enough to gently stretch him over and over again, feeling how tense he is with both nerves and arousal.

One exploring digit grazes his hole and Frederick curses under his breath, clenching reflexively at the unexpected intrusion. Will runs a thumb over him a second time, rougher, and the doctor tightens again, letting out a sharp breath.

“Been a while, hasn’t it, Doc?” Will slowly circles his rim with a single finger, feeling Frederick shiver under his touch.

Too long. Frederick nods, ashamed and unable to look his patient in the eye.

“I bet you could come like this, couldn't you?”

Frederick nods again, gritting his teeth as Will’s fingers momentarily drop to graze his balls.

“Well,” his patient withdraws the teasing hand for a moment, messily sucking on two fingers before spreading Frederick again. “Go ahead then.”

He knows what’s coming, but the slick fingertip pressing hard against his tight entrance before slipping inside still has Frederick gasping for breath. He moans, loud, careless, and grabs at Will’s bare chest, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.

Will works his finger in a circle, stretching Frederick, and his free hand finds its way to the doctor’s cock, teasing him through his panties. His thumb dips into the valley of Frederick’s hip where the lacy underwear is pulled away from his skin, baby blue flowers distorted by the heavy outline of his erection, and he feels Frederick tighten around him.

“So sensitive,” Will smiles, stroking his hip again and pushing a second knuckle into Frederick’s ass when he feels the doctor’s body respond.

“Ohhh,” Frederick groans, his cock throbbing in his panties. “God, Will.”

Will buries his finger fully in the doctor’s ass, fucking him slowly but steadily, and lowers his free hand to press just under the head of his cock. He wraps a firm fist around Frederick’s erection and starts to jerk his cock in rhythm with the finger moving in his ass.

Frederick manages to last all of three strokes before he lets out an obscene moan, spilling himself in his lingerie, gasping as Will milks him through his orgasm. The movement inside of him slows to a stop and Frederick shudders as Will withdraws his finger, more come dripping into his underwear. He looks down at himself to see white leaking from between the pattern of delicate flowers, and reaches down to wipe it away with a palm, but Will stops him with a tight hand on his wrist.

“Show me.” Will’s voice is uneven, and Frederick looks up to find his patient watching his come soak through the lace.

Frederick hesitates for a moment, then pulls the waistband away from his skin, exposing his slick, sticky cock. He bites his lip and looks back up at Will for approval, waiting for further instructions.

“Just like that,” Will shoves a hand down the front of his jumpsuit, freeing his hard cock. “Stay just like that. Fuck.”

Frederick watches Will spit into his palm twice and grab the head of his cock, fucking hard into his fist as he slicks himself up. He can’t take his eyes off the prominent vein that adorns the underside of Will’s erection, and he licks his lips, wanting to feel it in his mouth, on his tongue; wanting to drop to his knees and lick the mess of saliva and precome from Will’s shaft before sucking him dry.

“God, you look so pretty,” Will’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “Is this what you wear when you touch yourself?”

Frederick shakes his head, eyes still fixed on Will’s cock. “They're... new.”

It takes Will less than a second to process Frederick’s admission, and the steady motion of his hand stutters briefly. “Just for me?” He slips two fingers under the doctor’s chin and tips his head up to look him in the face. “You’re so eager to please, aren’t you, baby?”

Flushing brightly, Frederick mumbles a confirmation under his breath, eyeing the marks he left on Will’s chest.

Will’s breathing is heavy, hand working his cock tight and rough, and he tips his head back for a moment, letting out a slow breath through his nose. His other hand disappears under his waistband, and Frederick is barely able to resist the urge to tug his patient’s underwear down so he can watch Will tease his balls. He only has to restrain himself for a minute though, and Will pulls his hand from his jumpsuit, wrapping an arm around Frederick’s waist and drawing him as close as possible.

Frederick whimpers as Will presses against him, cock hot, slick against his sensitive skin. Will guides the head of his erection into the hollow of the doctor’s hip and moans, rutting roughly against him, leaving a shiny trail. Frederick can see his stomach tighten seconds before he comes with a low growl, cock pulsing with his release as he finishes against the doctor, an arm still holding him in place.

“Jesus...” Frederick’s eyes widen as he watches Will’s come run down into his panties, moaning quietly as it drips onto his slowly softening cock, adding to his own mess.

Will squeezes the last few drops from his cock and tucks himself away before reaching through the bars with both hands, reverently pulling Frederick’s soaked, ruined lingerie back up. The doctor grimaces at the feel of both mens’ rapidly cooling come against his sensitive cock, but he makes no move to stop Will as he fastens Frederick’s jeans back up for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Will murmurs, fastening the last button. He starts to pull his hands away, then reaches down Frederick’s waistband and tugs at his panties as an afterthought, pulling one side just far enough up that it shows over his jeans.

Frederick slowly reaches through the bars again, expecting Will to stop him, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he lays a hand on his patient’s skin with no protest. “Sorry,” he runs shaky fingertips over the red marks he left on Will, “I didn’t mean--”

Will gently takes Frederick's wrist and holds his hand against his chest for a moment, the doctor able to feel how hard his patient’s heart is beating. “I like ‘em,” Will grins, finally letting Frederick’s hand go and running his own fingers over the marks.

Frederick flushes a bit and smiles shyly at his patient. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” Will brushes Frederick’s cheek affectionately and watches him turn and head back to his office, still absentmindedly playing with the scratches the doctor left on his chest.

Chapter Text

WEDNESDAY, 11:54

Frederick would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't been thinking about this all day. All day and the majority of last night, staring blindly at his bedroom ceiling in the dark. After hours of running different scenarios through his head, cock hard and hot against his stomach, he'd finally given in again-- rubbing a quick one out, rolling over, and sleeping like a baby the rest of the night.

He presses the call button and carefully adjusts his stance, cursing under his breath as the tiny movement sends a fresh rush of precome into the panties he'd chosen for Will this morning. Already aching, regretting having gone straight for a large, he winces a bit-- sitting at his desk had been bad, but standing is somehow worse, the toy in his ass shifting, rubbing against him every time he moves.

He’d spent plenty of time in the shower easing himself open with a liberal amount of bodywash; two slick, soapy fingers buried all the way to the third knuckle, but the stretch was still almost unbearable. Even after all his prep, it had taken three tries and an increasingly obscene amount of lube to get the plug in, and the pained moan that had echoed around his bathroom once it finally slid home was a bit embarrassing, to say the least. On top of all that, he'd never really noticed how rough his daily route to the BSHCI was, every bump and pothole seemingly forcing the toy deeper, wrenching more moans and curses from his lips.

Frederick's quiet whimper is amplified in the small elevator as he shifts back onto his good leg, putting as much weight on his cane as he dares in preparation for the unavoidable jerk of the elevator coming to a stop. It doesn't help. He heaves out a heavy breath, sways on his feet a bit as the doors open with a ding, then screws his eyes shut and shuffles out into the hall.

All the moving around actually seems to be helping, if anything, and Frederick gingerly takes a handful of small, experimental steps. The sharp sting of being stretched like this is definitely fading, albeit slowly; the pain closer now to a dull ache. Far more manageable. Almost pleasurable, he quickly realizes, taking a few larger paces and nearly collapsing, knees giving out as the smooth tip of the plug just barely glides over his prostate.

He makes it to the kitchen in one piece and slumps over the stainless counter in relief, taking several deep breaths in an effort to collect himself. At least the painful part is mostly over. More out of curiosity than anything, Frederick reaches behind himself and pushes gently against the plug, immediately regretting it as the toy rubs up against him again and his ass tightens in protest. His erection twitches, leaking, and he moans softly into his fist, waiting for the sensation to fade before moving.

He recovers slowly and pushes himself off the counter with a forearm, balancing his weight as evenly as possible in the interest of keeping the toy in a relatively neutral position. Bending his knees, he quickly realizes, might be the worst yet; the angle forces the plug outwards as he stoops slightly to retrieve Will's lunch, pushing it tight against his sore rim. He freezes and lets out something between a sob and a moan as his cock pumps out another weak dribble of precome, gripping the fridge door for support as he takes several deep breaths. Somehow, thankfully, Frederick gets himself under control and straightens up with painstaking care, tray in hand.

Clearing the hallway without further incident, he slows to a stop a few feet from the top of the stairs. A handful of shallow steps has never been more daunting, and he stares at them in dismay for a long moment. Finally he tucks his cane under his arm, bites his tongue and gets it over with; all eight steps as fast as he can, knuckles white on the railing, bending his knees as little as possible in the process. Not dissimilar to a penguin, he thinks, reddening a bit, grateful that the angle of the hallway shields him from view of most of the cells.

Will is stretched out on his cot, naked from the waist up, white undershirt wadded up and tucked under his head as a second pillow. His jumpsuit is unbuttoned nearly all the way and Frederick can just barely make out Will’s cock slung across his thigh, hard but untouched. Ready for him. Frederick licks his lips, clears his throat.

“Mister Graham.”

Will stretches and gets to his feet, eyeing Frederick hungrily. His predatory gaze sends a shudder through the doctor's body and leaves a writhing pool of arousal behind, a heavy feeling that slowly settles in his stomach and grows, almost tangibly throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He watches eagerly as Will carries out the by now customary routine; accepting his food, setting it down, returning to Frederick waiting at the bars.

“You have another surprise for me today, don't you?” Will slips a single finger under Frederick's waistband, thumbing at his button.

Frederick blinks. “How-- ohh...” Will's hand grazes the distinct outline of his erection, and Frederick throbs hard in his jeans.

“Doesn't take a detective to see that you're walking like there's a bigger stick up your ass than usual,” Will explains with a smug look, tugging Frederick's pants open even as he teases him.

Frederick huffs in indignation. “I do not walk like there is...” he flushes a bit, embarrassed to repeat Will's crude words. “Like that,” he finishes, crossing his arms over his chest with a scowl.

Will just laughs. “Look at you,” he folds the doctor's jeans down at the waist and drops to one knee in front of him, adjusting Frederick's soft lilac panties with two fingers, tucking him back in where his cock had slipped out one of the leg holes. “You're soaking.”

Frederick dares a glance downwards and lets out a soft moan. Being stimulated all day, leaking heavily, with no opportunity for the lingerie to dry has left a wet spot nearly the width of his entire thigh, dark purple and glistening. He watches Will reach out and swipe a teasing finger over the slick patch; blushes as his cock throbs and slips free again, too heavy for the thin silk to keep in place.

“These aren't doing much, are they?”

Two fingers slip into his panties to pull them aside, bare knuckles brushing over the base of his erection and his balls in turn as Will carefully moves the delicate fabric out of the way. Exposing him. Freed from his soft constraints, Frederick springs to attention between the bars, erection grazing Will's lightly stubbled chin as it bobs to a stop in front of his face.

Will considers the hard, needy cock in his face for what seems like an eternity before he speaks again, his breath hot against Frederick's skin. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

Frederick hesitates, then shakes his head, embarrassed.

“Come on, Doctor,” Will coaxes, leaning forward to place a slow, wet kiss on the very tip of Frederick's erection. “Show me how you play with that big cock when you’re thinking about me.”

Another shudder runs through him at Will’s words, at both the casual compliment and the way his patient seems to have no doubts about the subject of Frederick's fantasies, and he lets his Will take hold of his wrist and guide his hand to his crotch. It takes a little encouragement, Will's hand over his own gently urging his fingers tighter one by one, but Frederick finally closes a fist around himself.

“Good boy,” Will praises him, easing their hands into a slow, steady rhythm. “Just like that.”

Will lets his hand slip from Frederick's and wraps both arms around his waist instead. Careful fingers slip down the back of his jeans and over his ass, gently squeezing, tugging, spreading him open, and Frederick whimpers as the cool basement air rushes over his newly bared hole, still slick from the morning's ordeal. His hand stutters on his cock and he curses as Will easily finds the base of his plug, sliding a fingertip underneath and circling his sensitive, aching rim.

“Let me see.”

Frederick obediently turns around and closes his eyes in anticipation, sighing as Will’s thumbs gently graze his lower back, dipping into the shallow dimples at the base of his spine before slipping under his waistband. He's more wound up than he has been in years; trembling as his jeans are eased over the curve of his ass, goosebumps racing down his legs as Will’s fingers trace back up his sensitive thighs. His breath hitches as his patient spreads him with one hand, silk lingerie pinned up and out of the way under a thumb.

Slick, lubed-up hole bared, on full display for his patient but unable to see his reaction, Frederick sucks in a deep, nervous breath and slows the fist pumping his cock to a crawl. Will fingers the base of his plug in consideration, tracing it, the gentle touches sending tiny vibrations all the way to the end of the toy, and Frederick finally falls apart, abandoning his cane to reach back and grip the bars next to his head as he sobs Will's name.

“You like that, don't you?” Will’s hand leaves the toy for a moment to run a slick finger down the back of Frederick's balls.

Frederick nods frantically, followed by a whispered curse as his patient grips at the base of the plug, fingers struggling to find a purchase on the slick steel. Every single one of Will's fumbling movements pushes the toy against his walls, and Frederick moans, trying desperately not to tense up. The second Will starts to pull gently, though, twisting the toy inside him, he clenches involuntarily and takes it back in.

“Greedy...” Will murmurs, and Frederick flushes.

Will grasps the toy and pulls again, hooking two fingers under the base as the thick, rounded end of the plug starts to appear, stretching the doctor around it. Frederick’s head falls back against the bars with a dull thud and he moans, remembering just how big the toy is. That can't even be a third of it. Will slides another few millimeters out and Frederick tightens in vain with a gasp, but Will is ready this time and his grip holds steady, forcing the doctor's hole to stay open.

Will watches Frederick feebly clench again in an effort to lessen the stretch, muscles gripping weakly at the steel and quickly losing their purchase, and he tugs gently, another tiny bit slipping free despite Frederick's best efforts. The doctor is panting now-- stomach tight, balls tighter-- desperately gripping the base of his cock to keep from coming all over the floor as Will eases his hole open. Another centimeter and he feels the widest part of the toy slip past his abused rim, sighing in relief as the pressure eases up.

“I know you could come like this,” Will twists the plug; runs a hand over Frederick's ass. “Couldn't you, Doctor?”

Frederick nods with a tiny whimper, then cries out in surprise as Will puts just enough pressure on the toy to slip it back inside. His cock spasms hard in his palm, slick and red and painful, desperately attempting to pump his balls dry but stopped by Frederick's tight grip. He has barely a second to recover before Will starts the process again, slowly easing the toy out, and Frederick is suddenly grateful for the excess amount of lube.

“Will...”

The plug is nearing the widest part again, and Frederick's legs are shaking uncontrollably. He reflexively clenches, and Will lets go this time, the toy slipping back into his ass.

“Hn-- ahh!”

“It would be so easy to fuck you with this little toy until you can't take it anymore,” Will gives Frederick's ass a firm squeeze before he takes ahold of the plug again. “You're practically fucking yourself with it, the way you don't want to let go.”

Will tugs at the plug to illustrate, and Frederick flushes at the way he can feel himself tighten again, beyond his control at this point, pulling it back in deep.

“What do you think, are you going to come?”

Frederick just whimpers. More, his brain is screaming, you need more than just your plug, but his cock has other ideas; fully ready to spill over his fist and onto the floor as Will gives the toy another twist.

“What do you think, Doctor?”

Frederick lets out a broken sob as Will gives the end of the toy a rough shove, simultaneously forcing the base hard against his aching entrance and nailing his sweet spot, and he tightens his grip. “Yes,” he manages through gritted teeth, his hole throbbing in painful pleasure.

“Yes what?” Will prompts, pulling his hand back and letting Frederick push the toy outwards, giving him a brief respite, only to shove it back in again.

“Yes, I'm going to come,” Frederick nearly shouts, his voice breaking on the last syllable as his patient buries the plug deep inside him.

Will grabs both of his elbows and pulls, holding Frederick's arms together tight behind his back with one hand as he strokes the doctor's balls with a thumb. Vise-like hold at the base of his cock now gone, Frederick moans as precome floods to his tip, beading and starting to drip downwards in a matter of seconds.

“Come for me,” Will murmurs, tightening his grip on the doctor's wrists and giving the steel toy a final rough push.

Frederick does; his untouched cock spasming hard as Will hits his prostate, pumping thick, white spurts over his waistband and down the leg of his jeans. He can't do anything but moan, the tail end of his painfully strong orgasm sending more come running down his thigh, and he watches helplessly as a few drops spatter onto the floor. Finally empty, he slumps to the floor, his back to the bars, not even enough energy left to free his wrists from Will's grip-- he manages a few weak scrabbles with his fingertips, brushing at his patient's hand.

“Good boy,” Will whispers, barely loud enough for him to hear. He settles on the floor behind the doctor and takes Frederick's hand in his own, rubbing slow, comforting circles into his palm as he comes down. The tiny snore that escapes Frederick's lips is unexpected, but Will's heart swells as he realizes Frederick dozed off holding his hand, and he tips his head back against the bars, eyes closed, content just to listen to the quiet rhythm of Frederick's breathing.

“Shit,” the doctor suddenly starts awake, his head snapping up. He twists around to look at Will, eyes wide. “How long was I...”

“Three days,” Will deadpans.

Frederick scowls at him, unamused.

“Not even ten minutes.” Will smiles at him, brushes a stray hair from Frederick’s forehead, runs a gentle finger over his lips. “Go get some rest, Doctor. You've earned it.”