067. [dottore x male reader.]

16. phase two.

"yes, now that we're all here, let's begin discussing phase two," the jester says plainly, "patient 067, correct?"

his attention fully shifted towards you, causing all eyes to land on yours. the oddly colored eyes of the black haired man - the 'regrator' - generally made you feel unwell, but dottore's gaze is also on you. the more relaxing gaze of your lover's is on you. yet, you couldn't tell if it's a reassuring gaze or a "don't fuck this up for me" type of look. it's hard to tell. 

though, you loathed how he stated you by that dumb number. you're so much more than a number now. you're his. you're not a number, you're y/n, you're dottore's partner and little assistant, not some ... stupid number. but you knew better than to argue back with someone that had dottore sitting up straight and speaking as if he had manners. 

  "correct," was all you had replied with. should you have said sir? probably. but there's always that chance it would insult him by making him feel old .. you don't know. you weren't given a "how to address my superiors 101" lecture by dottore. he just allowed you to instantly fall into the deep end. 

  "hm. dottore, fangs or no? most vampires have them, do they not?" he asks as his eyes narrowed. he gave you the quick look of judgement when you spoke, but never commented on it. 

  "yes and no. unlike most of the speculated theories we had, from the stereotypes, they're not large or overbearing; not even retractable. instead, imagine mortal canine teeth at a higher sharpness than others," your lover explained. he'd know all about your fangs; you have bitten him, multiple times. 

  "how intriguing. your reports mentioned healing capabilities? how long do they often take?" 

  "smaller, flesh, wounds usually take about an hour or so. larger flesh wounds take about three. i have yet to see if his body can withstand losing organs or not." 

... did he basically just say he's going to remove your organs? you thought you weren't one of his little test subjects anymore. yet, he's speaking to you as if you were. yes, you two have hardly been dating and he isn't ... the affectionate type, or offers you any affection beyond sex, or -

maybe you were still his subject. 

  "i would've thought you've done that by now. what stopped you?" 

dottore paused for a moment, most likely trying to think of what words to say.

you couldn't understand how dottore would go from calling you a sweet boy to describing you like livestock. like some zoo animal behind a cage. it's embarrassing. he's treating you as if you weren't even his lover and you couldn't help but feel a bit upset by it. you help him with everything and trust him with your life. (probably not the best decision.)

  "a clone of mind had gone rogue, i had that to deal with." 

  "i see, well, me and the lady wish to view his abilities," the jester says as regrator leans back into the chair. he's sitting in the same  one you had sat on the first time you were in this office.

  "and i may be able to provide the fundings for such experiments, if need be," regrator spoke as he fiddled with his glasses' chain, "though, i highly doubt you'll need much, unless he requires some form of equipment." 

  "that won't be necessary, pantalone" dottore waves off, "i highly doubt his body is situated for those kinds of situations right now, pierro." 

  "i don't exactly care, lady tsaritsa wants it as much as i, so it's being done. give him equipment or blood supplements, if you must," the jester, or pierro (you assume) says with a long drawn out sigh.

  "yes, sir."

dottore brushed through your hair slowly. pantalone and pierro had left a few hours previously, after everyone came to a conclusion. you're too start with physical combat as of next week and "show everyone" your capabilities. you had your doubts about these sudden abilities of yours, especially since you've never fought a day in your life. not even in your childhood. 

  "apologies for being rude earlier, my love, i couldn't be ... obvious about us in front of him," dottore says gently to as he presses a kiss to your cheek, "i'll see it that you appease them, alright?"

  "am i just a patient to you?" you ask him. the thought still lingered in your mind, how he just let pierro refer to by a number. 

 "hm? where did these thoughts come from, my dear?" dottore asks you. he places the brush on his desk once he gets all of the knots out of your hair as he pats his lap, urging you to come sit in it.

  "he called me my number," you answer. you sat yourself into his lap while wrapping an arm around his neck, looking down at him. 

his hands placed themselves around your waist as he held you. he's never really gave you affection in the past, beyond the pet names. so this is a first. his hands felt gentle against your hips as he rubbed small hearts into them; his head rested onto your shoulder and kisses found themselves on your neck.

  "like i said, my pretty boy, i had to make sure he didn't suspect us," dottore reassures you before moving his head. one of his hands slowly trails up your torso until it reaches your chin, cusping it between his fingers. 

a faint blush found its way appearing onto your face in response, it happened each time he touched you. there's just something about that white man and his touch. it's oddly gentle, yet has the potential to be rough, as you know. 

  "but... didn't you get permission?"

   "not for us to be together, no, i got permission for being able to move you up the chain, my darling. that's all."

you ... could've sworn he said to you that he had the permission to be with you, didn't he?

  "hey, zandik?" 

  "hm?" 

  "i love you." 

dottore took a short minute to respond to what you said. perhaps he's not used to hearing it, or maybe he doesn't believe it. but you've known for a long time. you've known that your heart beats for him and his touch. even just being held like this made your heart flutter.

you love him. 

   "i love you too, sweet boy."