Chapter Text
“ - Wait ten minutes and the doctor will call you, dear.” - A sweet but forced female voice sounded while the pale hand with impeccable nails offered back the ID card (obviously fake) to the tall, slender man, who he just snorted in disgust.
Without many (any, to be honest) alternatives, the brunet sat down on one of the standard blue padded chairs in the office, which were part of the harmonious, also blue of course, environment. His dark, bored eyes turned to a fake fern that sat in a small striped vase in the center of the room's glass table. He dedicated himself to spending the next few moments staring at it.
He had lost the bet.
As?
Simple: Fyodor, the damned anemic rat who couldn't even spell the words bean and iron, had simply gotten lucky enough to get an As at the last minute, while they were both playing Black Jack at the "local" college pub (obviously after one of the worst anatomy tests they had to deign to participate and be completely humiliated), too drunk to even remember their own names.
It was all that clown's fault, who could very well have been hired to sell snacks at McDonald's. He didn't even really know why the hell they called Gogol to join in, in the first place. If he had remained quiet and not come up with this stupid idea, Dazai wouldn't be in this trouble. My God, Nikolai needed a psychiatrist more than his own future patients.
Osamu shouldn't have bet anything, especially knowing the Russian still hadn't forgiven him for managing to win on poker and humiliating him in front of the whole class. At least, not after making him swallow his “ ultimate death shot” as punishment, which basically consisted of vodka, eggs, flour and lots and lots of brandy with pepper.
On the other hand, Fyodor looked strange for a week.
The thought almost caused the college student to shed tears of pure joy, if it weren't for the fact that a loud “ding” sound echoed through the place and from inside the small white door with the words “Dr. C” (he couldn't read the whole name) came out a blond man with a baby face and several freckles on his cheeks. He wore an expression of intense pain as he massaged his own bottom vigorously.
“-Thank you very much, Mr. Kenji! The doctor expects your return in six months, make sure you drink lots of water and eat less fiber during the first three days, 'kay?” - recommended the woman with a small toothless smile.
Oh yes.
His punishment, his ultimate defeat, for failing miserably, when they were tied in the game, in predicting the other dark-haired man's movement...
He was going to have a prostate exam.
Complete.
His first reaction the next morning was shock, followed by denial, bargaining, grief and acceptance, all not necessarily in that same order. He wished he could drown Nikolai and push Dostoevsky off the top-floor stairs (his college had four) without being arrested, and for a minute, he almost did, if it weren't for Atsushi and Akutagawa arriving just in the nick of time.
Osamu sighed, completely defeated, as he watched the cute receptionist return the ID of the blonde named Kenji, after scheduling his return with the guy called C. If he hadn't been so depressed about his current situation, he would have definitely asked for her number, and who knows? Maybe he would be leaving with a new “””Friend”””” with certain benefits?
But hell no, he was there, waiting for a complete stranger to poke his ass for approximately thirty minutes. The brunet didn't know how the fucking rat had managed to make this appointment so quickly, since Dazai was clearly under forty (he would be twenty in May) and it wasn’t easy for young people to get that type of exam, but coming from someone who had invented their own language just so they could continue insulting each other during classes without being reprimanded, that was even mild.
With an awkward bow and still massaging his buttocks, the boy left the wing, crossing towards the glass doors decorated with coconut trees in vases (these were real, and Motojiro had tried to take one of the vases home in order to graft his lemon-trees-swiss in them if it weren't for Ango, who still had at least three of his neurons operating even after spending so much time with that bunch of idiots), gaining the much-desired freedom the brunette had been coveting since he arrived there, twenty five minutes ago.
One thing:
Let it be clear, Osamu was not Gay. Not bisexual, or who knows what else about this new flag they had invented.
It doesn't matter he had a crush on a senpai when he was in his first highschool year, Dazai was just fourteen and everyone knows that teenagers shouldn't be taken seriously. He wasn't homophobic, like, sheesh, he even had friends who were, you know, openly fagots, but that simply wasn't for him. That's why it was hurting even more, 'cause Fyodor, being a "I don't reject any hole" himself, had been sleeping with Gogol for months, and Osamu never missed the chance to joke about it whenever he could, leaving both of them not so happy with him.
Well, coming to think now, that was probably the Russian's answer to all his merciless harassment.
At least, they had left to let him mourn his misfortune alone, promising to return in an hour and a half, which they considered enough time for the bet to be concluded. Would he be able to get away with this if he changed his name again, changed his major to philosophy (he was currently studying medicine) and dyed his hair neon pink?
“-Shūji Tsushima? “ - the female voice sounded again, pulling the brunet out of his immersion of thoughts and forcing him back to reality.
It was actually Odasaku's idea (not that the redhead agreed with this stupid bet, he was just trying to smooth things over for Dazai by preventing him from being recognized and further humiliated), to use his old name. Its true, the brunette insisted on changing as soon as the Japanese government managed to recognize he was eighteen and had come out of diapers, and never even thought about it or looked back. Funny and ironic how it just happened to come in handy at this moment.
"Life had its ways." he thought sullenly.
Osamu baked to the receptionist, ( who had a round face and brown hair) that looked at him inquisitively, like she had been calling the man for a long time and had only now managed to capture his attention. If he could guess, it had been well over fifteen minutes since their last interaction.
"-Yes, darling?" - He questioned, aware that that's not the best time to flirt, but hey old habits die hard, unlike like his own masculinity that it's about to do so.
(Tears almost came to his eyes)
“- The Doctor …..will assist you now.” – Funny how she didn't mention the doctor's name.
Dazai instinctively narrowed his eyes.
Suspicious.
(Not that this whole situation wasn't already suspicious in itself, but it was even more so now, mainly because the one who had organized this was the anemic rat bastard, like, you should always question everything he plans or does. Still, Osamu had no choice but to go through with it.)
He cursed his own stupidity a hundred times and swore never put any drop of sake in his mouth again.
.
.
.
(an obvious lie.)
Osamu , without choice, finally got up from his chair with an apparent lack of enthusiasm, muttering a disheartened "thank you" to the cute receptionist, who was waiting for him at the door, holding it so he could enter the office.
As soon as he entered the room and the door closed behind him, Dazai knew there would be no turning back. Either he would pay the penalty for the bet with Fyodor, or he would be the laughingstock of the rest of the college by the end of the semester. Until someone committed new idiocy, he would be an outcast in his circle of friends, and at this point in his life, committing genocide didn't seem so wrong to the brunet.
Looking around, the he first thing he noticed was, unlike the reception where everything was designed to be blue, the office was a silent opposite. It was so white it burned his vision, even the three paintings distributed on the walls were of lilies, daisies and pale roses, which revealed this doctor's strange obsession with this specific color.
Nervously, Osamu observed that, in his right corner there was, in addition to a stretcher wrapped in cling film for him to lie down on for further examinations, the chair connected to the ultrasound table, where more... in-depth analyzes were carried out (damn, Jesus Christ where the fuck did he got involved?). In the center of the room, there was a table with several papers stacked perfectly and a laptop turned on. Behind the table, there was, if not him, his own executioner in person, writing something on what Dazai assumed to be the file of one of the other patients (perhaps the guy Kenji, who had just left).
The man wore his medical uniform, which consisted of a white coat buttoned up to the top, pearl-white lycra pants, and on his head a green cap that covered his hair completely. The university student couldn't guess why he was wearing the last one, as outside the surgery center there shouldn't be any reason to wear a clinical cap. Well, he had more important things to worry about than this guy freak fashion sense right now.
Behind the man, there were several clear shelves, where different models of the urinary, reproductive system, etc, of the male body were displayed. The kind of thing present in an anatomy class, and honestly it would be strange if there weren't any there, given its importance in explaining certain things to patients. To the left side of the shelves, a huge cabinet with all kinds of drawers was leaning against it, looking perfectly organized and clean.
Osamu couldn't help but feel envious, he had to admit, when he (finally) graduated, he doubted he would be able to maintain a clean and beautiful office like that. Well, it's not like he would have time for that, since after all he wouldn't be working for the rest of his life sticking his finger up people's asses. Come to think of it, this profession already screamed gay in every way, so the doctor with the red eyebrows was probably part of that “community”, rigth?
(He swore he wasn't prejudiced.)
Finally, Osamu stopped in front of the white chair, pulling it towards him to sit down noisily, attracting the man's attention to himself. C (he only knew the first letter of the guy's name thanks to the part half covered by Kenji, so he would call him C.) looked up, and honestly wow. He wasn't one to compliment guys (He'd leave that to Atsushi), but just… amazing.
It was the most fantastic blue he had ever had the pleasure of seeing with his eyes in years, simply unbelievable. It looked like two sapphires had been pulled straight from the earth and stuck onto someone else's face, it was just surreal. But for some reason, something in his mind told him that he had met someone like this before, but….
“- Shūji Tsushima?” - the thick and hoarse voice questioned from beneath the disposable mask, which made it impossible for Osamu to have a full view of his face. "- Great, I was waiting for you."
“-Y-yes! T- That's me…!!” - The brunet replied awkwardly, his hands resting on his lap on top of his beige pants and intertwining feverishly, a bad habit he had when faced with stressful situations.
“- I was previously analyzing your file, and damn!”- C exclaimed, looking surprised when he reread his data “-First time in an exam like this, right? This is quite unusual in reality. I tend to see more people in their forties, or very specific cases like that of Mr. Kenji who just left. “ - Osamu felt a drop of sweat fall from the back of his neck and roll down his back “- What brings you here today, Mr. Tsushima?”
“- Uh, well, just a routine exam. I think it's never too late to start taking care of yourself, even though there's still so much time left for this type of exam " - He argued and the redhead (he deduced from his eyebrows) slightly narrowed his eyes. "- Anyway, I believe it won't be anything serious, in fact, I believe that even a physical examination will not be necessary in this case.”
“- It's good that you care about your health, some old idiots and prejudices only arrive here in a state of near death, and in fact reading what is written here, there is no anomaly shown by your feces, blood or urine tests of the last six months" - he said, slamming the papers neatly on the table, while Osamu still thinking in all his best ideas to convince him to abandon the idea of physical examinations “- However, as this is your first time doing this, a complete analysis will be necessary.”
Dazai wanted to kill Fyodor, Gogol, set the whole fucking campus on fire, preferably with flames rosing so high, people would think the gates of hell had finally opened (even though it wasn't summer yet) and then jump from a damn cliff . He followed with his eyes when the doctor stood up and to Dazai's surprise, he was much shorter than him, like, about seven, seventy-eight inches. If Osamu needed to, could he knock him out with one of the cock statues up there? Well, he could at least consider it.
C stopped next to the previous stretcher, and patted it a few times after pulling out a sheet of paper, indicating the brunet should lie down to begin. Defeated once for all, after having used all his weapons and knowing that Dostoevsky knew the programming department well enough to hack the cameras there and find out if he ran away or not, he didn't say anything, and walked towards the short figure, stopping awkwardly at his side.
“-Very well, now I will ask you to lie down and take off your pants and underwear while I get the necessary equipment for your examination” - if the redhead noticed his obvious discomfort, he did not comment, resigning himself to just fixing the place.
He watched C rummage through one of his countless drawers in the closet, while deciding whether or not he should do what was asked of him. Slowly unbuttoning his pants, he noticed in the man's hands a box of disposable latex gloves and a bottle that Dazai already knew very well from countless springs.
Lube.
And apparently a good one, if he could be hitting the mark at that distance. He swallowed real hard. Noticing he was turning to come back towards him, Osamu lowered everything at once, leaving no time to himself to give up, knowing he could back out at the last minute. The first thing he felt was as if he was being whipped by the cold emitted by the air conditioning, even his last strand of hair had stood on end. Christ, what temperature did that dwarf like? Shouldn't he be in favor of heat 'cause they usually lives in the underground?
"- Done." - said C while putting on his gloves with a characteristic snap, his hand taking the blue bottle that Dazai had wisely hit just right “- Now, I will trust you are not a complete moron and complied with the recommendations in the email sent... … about cleaning yourself internally the day before taking the exam.”
Dazai had. And he DEFINITELY not wanted to talk about it.
He nodded reluctantly.
“-Great, at least you have neurons, which already makes you twenty percent better than the others”- he said shaking the tube “-Well, what are you waiting for sir? Lay down".
“Bastard asshole wheel painter, he ran away from the garden and just because he wore a lab coat he thinks he's a doctor, I doubt he can even reach the stretcher without needing a stool” Osamu found himself muttering to himself, as he dismayedly lay down, very conscious that he would be letting another guy touch his hole. And this particular position felt extremely gay.
“-Sir, I'm going to need you to lift your hips more” - he heard the voice say while he had his face buried in the covered pillow, inhaling that characteristic smell of cardboard. Snorting, he did as he asked, leaning in a little more. “- Sir, it’s still not enough.”
The husky voice seemed a little harsher this time, and he found funny how sometimes this doctor seemed too forced, like education and class didn't come easily to him. It was as if sometimes he forgot he had to pretend to be polite and showed traits of his true personality. The brunet sighed and did it with even less enthusiasm, partly to tease him and partly 'cause this whole thing was just really, really gay.
“-Sir, if you don’t cooperate it will be difficult “ - he spoke again, but honestly it was clear that it was impossible to do the exam like that, and Osamu had to hide his mischievous tiny smirk in the pillow “ - Well…look, if you don’t cooperate, there is no exam dumbas- … I mean, sir.”
“-I'm already doing what you asked me to do, Gremlin, If you're blinder than a mole, that's absolutely not my fault.” - he replied in a muffled way.
“-Eeehh…? You just called me a fucking mol- urg, no, sheesh, forget that shit! Even an old man with scoliosis does this better than you, are you even trying? “- the student barely registered the doctor’s tone or the swearing, he was just as on edge as the redhead, snapping back at everything he could, word for word.
“- Insted complain about it like a baby, then why don’t you come over here and take the finger up your ass for me, shortstack? Honestly, it suits and you your proud little gay career better, anyway.” - He said maliciously, and you could swear you heard him grinding his teeth in pure repressed anger and frustration.
“-First of all, you’re the only one here throwing a tantrum over the simple act of bending over for a medical exam, as if that alone would magically turn you gay, like being gay is some kind of fucking terminal disease. So, maybe, stop whining and just get in damn position, it won't kill you, I can assure. And second, I’m not the fucking patient, so move your lazy ass properly!” - argued the redhead.
“-I’m not throwing a tantrum!" - he protested, offended to his core. " - I-I-I...It's just...well, you're going to stick fingers in my hole, should I be happy with that?" - ironized, but then tried another method " - Like, dude, please! l'm already doing it the best I can, C'mom!”
“-No, you're literally fucking not, dumbass!” - C almost yelled.
“- So what the hell do you want me to do then ? ” - snapped back the brunet.
“-Put your fucking ass up, damn it!!!” - The doctor yelled loudly, and only after the words echoed throughout the room did Dazai and C realized it, both freezing in their respective places
This… this was extremely questionable, in all the wrong ways.
He prayed the pretty secretary hadn't overheard this shit and misunderstood everything. Osamu only heard the other sigh, while probably massaging his brow, defeated at having let his apparently explosive temper get the better of him. The brunet didn't deny it, he hadn't had any fun (and shock like that) since high school...
Wait….Could it be…
No.
Impossible.
The Russian wouldn't go that low. Or would?
The brunet's heart missed a beat, which he hoped C hadn't noticed.
“- Sir....Well, look: I know it’s embarrassing, for us both, but could you please lift your hips up?” - the tired voice asked, and this time, even if against his will, Osamu had to do it.
He waited in silence, aware of his own injured masculinity, as he heard the uncapping of the tube of lube, followed by the unmistakable squirting sound. His anal virginity would soon be snatched away by those fingers. Dazai whined, damn blackjack, he would never play that crap again.
“-Sir, everything is ready. Let’s start the touch exam, okay?” - before he could respond, he felt a sudden cold at his entrance, along with the firm and crescent pressure .
Before he could formulate any words, thanks to the lube and his previous cleaning, the finger slid in with some ease (although his insides still pressed tightly C). It was official, He was really becoming a faggot. Oh shit, oh shit it was burning, it was so strange, it was so different from the plastic in the shower…
“-Ngh…!”- Dazai moaned softly against the pillow, his hands grabbing him without his control, while his velvet walls tried to push the intruder out at all costs, and Osamu wondered how long it take to that torture ends.
They stayed like that for five minutes.
“- Sir, now that you’re used to it, I'll move my finger, 'kay?” - was it his imagination, or C's voice was hoarser and deeper?
Wait a fucking damn minute—
But Osamu didn't finish any coherent thought, 'cause the hot latex digit moved back and forth, eliciting a surprised high-pitched moan from him. He really wanted to commit suicide, and rigth now, regardless about having a pair or not. 'Cause, hell, Dazai was just moaning like a little whore and this guy was just doing a "simple" exam without any sexual context (well, in theory at least), what was his fucking problem??
God, by God, let Fyodor not see this recording, or he would never be able to step foot in class again. While his mind was buzzing, confused and accelerated by the brunette's high flow of thoughts, the other, oblivious to his conflicts, dipped his finger even deeper, causing Dazai to press his lips into a thin line. He had made sure he wouldn't make any more embarrassing noises that could make this worse.
The finger still touching his insides in a careful way at first, 'cause probably the doctor was trying not to scare him. It was too weird, hot and it felt like Dazai wanted to go to the bathroom but he couldn't, really, how could anyone like that? Imagine something bigger in there, my God, like how—
“-Sir, I'm going to ask you to relax again, 'kay? ” - no fucking way, the student must have been imagining things, 'cause the C's voice was so hoarse and low, it could almost be mistaken for a low growl.
“ - T-try doing that yourself with a goddamn finger buried up in your ass— a-ah… ah f-fuck..” - replied, panting, closing his eyes tightly, feeling the finger, which he didn't even realize was still, start moving again.
He could have sworn he heard that doctor laugh, that son of a-...
“-Owhn!” - Dazai groaned, muffled into the pillow.
The finger slipped further, feeling inside, on the sides as if seeking for something, and Osamu could assume that he was looking for his prostate. Once again, a sudden chill hit his hole, so he could assume this was more lube, and he clamped his mouth shut again. What a fucking humiliation, seriously! He lifted his head, glaring at the clock above the examination table. Fifteen minutes—OH, REALLY? C'mom damn it, why wasn’t time moving?
“-C-C'mom doctor, like, y'know, I-I don’t have all day!”- he said in a really bad mood, his fingers tightened on the paper while his eyes remained closed. “-Do it fa-fa-fasAaAaAASST!”
This time Dazai wasn't able to hold back his voice. God, God, what had that been? What the fuck was that? It felt like an electrical shock had been given from the base of his spine to his brain. It was simply unbelievable. What the hell had that doctor squeezed? Wha..what had he done? Osamu only lost the ability to speak and think for five whole seconds!! Shamefully, he had to admit to himself that his lower belly tensed at that, and he had never felt more ridiculous in his entire life.
“-...Mr.Dazai, that spot you just felt is your prostate, but you already know it, rigth?” - his voice sounded behind him, breathless, almost as if he himself had lost the ability to speak “- Anyway, I...ahem, I need to touch it for the exam, 'kay?"
“-Wh…what…? Oh yes,” - he agreed, still dazed, realizing only after with panic what he had just agreed “- T-T-That's not w-wh-what I meant... p-please, wa..wait! Wait, like, I-I-I-I've changed..I've changed my min-AAHH..!!AAAHI..INN …Hi-hic!!”
The redhead had pressed that strange spot at least three times in a row without ceasing, sending Dazai to a new place outside the earth. His little toes wrinkled the paper of the stretcher and a little of sipt ran down the corner of his lips as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Fu-Fuck…!!
The hell was that? It wasn't supposed to be so good! The brunet felt like melting around his fingers, it was so shamefull! Like, what happened to the part about having something in your ass being gross? What had Dazai lost 'til here? He did know about the “myth” among the community about it being fuckin' amaing, but what he had felt… it had made his brain shake like scrambled eggs!! It had made Osamu discover Mars, Moon, Sturn, everything, head spun thousands of times before returning to earth again.
“-D..Doctor..wa..wait a sec, hm..hm…It..feels..It fe-feels... w-weird... aah…”- babbled in a low voice, trying to look at the redhead over his shoulder , without success, as the other man had insisted on sinking his fingers against that weak spot again and again, and...Oh— “ -U-UUHN!! D-doctor!!” - wailed softly, burying his face in his pillow, knowing he would be unable to control his voice anymore.
His head was spinning so much!! Dazai's legs were shaking like bamboos in the wind, rubbing agains each other as if he had to pee, but nothing coming out. His nervous system was just going into overdrive if it keep going! Colorful stars shone in the depths of his dark eyes, clouded with dull desire. Impossible, impossible, he wasn't Gay, he wasn't, he would fight it, he would, he would...Hmmmm—
“- Sir, I’m going to rub it now, yes?” -this time, he didn't even pay attention to what was being said by C or in his tone voice, too lost in his own newly discovered world of pleasure to care.
Dazai only remembered to nod absentmindedly in agreement, but by the time he realized what C actually meant, it was already too late. The moment he opened his mouth to protest, the words stumbling over each other, Osamu felt the small piece of flesh being stroked up and down, torturously slow. Tiny electric jolts crawled up his spine, and he found himself letting out high-pitched whimpers into the pillow. It took biting down on the damn thing to make himself stop.
“-Si...Sir, I’m going to go a little faster now, and then I’ll need to press it firmly to check its exact size... a-alright?” - the other's voice fell on deaf ears.
Osamu was too high on this that he didn't even noticed his own rock-hard cock, that had been dangling against his stomach for a while. A tiny, small part of him continued trying to hold on to the last scraps of control and dignity he had left, so he bit the pillow and clutched the paper beneath him trying to hide, stubbornly ignoring the heat burning on his face and the sweat trickling down through his thick, dark hair. When all of this was over, he swore he’d never look that damn alcoholic Russian bastard in the face again, Oh, hell no!! That fucking idiot, moron, goddamn bastard—
“-HMM!!!!!” - exclaimed muffledly, widening his eyes, too surprised to even react. C had just crushed that idiot(amazing) bundle of nervers with all the strength he had!! And then simply rubbed it , like he hadn't just made Osamu completely collapse onto the stretcher, his long legs just bending in pure pleasure against the redhead “-Hm-Hm-Hmmmmmmmmmm…!!”
Without choice, he melted around the doctor's fingers, spreading all over the gurney, breathing ragged and heavy. The brunet drank air vehemently, like he had just finished a marathon, face bright red and knuckles completely white thanks to the strength he used to hold himself up. Dazai didn't even notice the doctor's digits had slipped out of him, leaving him with a strange feeling of emptiness.
And worse, he hadn't realized that in the middle of it all, he had had one of the best orgasms of his short life without even touching his dick. The paper against his belly was completely smeared with cum, showing the clear proofs of his shame.
Osamu had cum without lay a single finger in his cock.
Finally, the thought hit him like a stone. His immediate reaction was to want to stab himself with the redhead's scalpel. He…he…no. No.
He refused to even think about it.
He can't be.
Gay.