Chapter Text
It had been a few years now since you started working for Singed, perhaps ‘working for’ was a little vague. Silco had bought you from the brothel as an incentive of sorts for the Doctor, and things had developed from there. He had never actually touched you though, never expressed any interest in you in the way Silco had intended, but it hadn't bothered you, not when you had a reprieve from the violence of your usual clients.
You enter the lab with a box of tools and ingredients he had requested, having spent the day traversing the lanes to acquire them all, and make your way to his desk. He doesn't look up at you as you approach, not even acknowledging you when you give him a quiet hello, his gaze fixed on the microscope before him. It’s only when you set the box down on the edge of the desk that he finally spoke,
“Ah, good. You got everything?”, he asks, not even looking up at you. It stings in a strange way. You wouldn't consider yourself needy in the slightest, but his behavior has grown increasingly distant over the last few months. Before he had allowed you to assist him in his work, talking you through his process and sharing his thoughts, whereas now, he barely even seemed to notice your presence. It left a dull ache in your chest that you couldn't quite put a name to.
“I did”, you reply simply, voice soft and quiet so as not to disturb him from whatever he was doing. He lifts a long, slim arm and begins digging through the box, grabbing what he needs and setting it to the side, all without taking his eye off the microscope. A small part of you hoped he would just start talking again, even if it was just to process his thoughts out loud, and when he draws in a long breath, you wonder if perhaps he will.
“You may go now”, he mumbles, avoiding looking at you even when he takes his eye off the microscope. It was strange, he never seemed to have any issues with looking at you before, and yet these last few months he had seemed almost incapable of doing so. You wonder if you have perhaps done something wrong, something to upset or annoy him, why else would he refuse to look at you. It is an odd feeling, initially you hadn't been all that fond of him at all, thinking him some perverted old man that his boss would purchase a hooker for his own personal enjoyment, but when he hadn't asked you for anything of that nature, you had begun to reassess him. He had seemed lonely, taking enjoyment just from your presence, and the most he had ever touched you was when he had asked to do your hair. You sigh, almost dejected, and begin slowly making your way back to the door, purposely taking your time, you know that once you close that door behind you, you’ll be all alone again.
“Wait... come back”, his voice calls out suddenly. You jump slightly at his tone, but automatically turn around, returning to his side a curious glint in your eye. You wonder briefly if you had forgotten something, or picked up the wrong thing. You couldn't think of any other reason he would call you back, the Doctor never seemed affected by loneliness as you were, so it couldn't be that he simply wanted your company... could it?
He looks up at you from his seat as you return to his side. His eyes flickering over your face, taking in your reaction. He seems to see whatever it is he is looking for as he clears his throat lightly, his voice level and calm.
“Come closer, I need you to do something for me”, he says rather vaguely and you immediately shift so that your eye level with him, almost shoulder to shoulder.
“Of course, Doctor”, you reply diligently.
You watch him as he hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh.
“Lean forward”
You blink in confusion at his order, but you do as he says, leaning in closer. You can see every detail on his burnt face, his eye flitting between your own, seemingly nervously. But why would he be nervous,
“Close your eyes”, he whispers, his breath hitching slightly in his throat.
You pause for a moment, blinking in confusion. You can't remember him ever asking you to do something like this before. Ultimately, you do trust him not to hurt you, he never has. You let your eyes fall closed as you await his next order.
A cautious hand makes its way to your face, the skin cool against your warm cheeks, you almost open your eyes automatically at the contact, but a murmured reminder to ‘keep your eyes shut’ immediately dissuades you from doing so. As his hand comes to rest on the side of your face, cupping your cheek and jaw, you have to fight to not lean into him. It's been such a long time since anyone has touched you, and even longer since anyone has given you affection. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your breath coming out in a slight shudder.
For a moment, neither of you move. And then, you feel his nose brush against your cheek, your breath catching in your throat as you begin to feel a twinge of excitement rush through your core. He’s so close now, just a few more inches, just a few more-
“Open your mouth”, you hear him say through your muddled thoughts, his voice barely above a whisper, and his breath hot on your cheek. You don't even hesitate, parting your lips obediently as you wait with baited breath for his next move. It’s exciting. It’s nerve wracking. It's so wonderful. After a moment, feel the pad of his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, rubbing tiny, almost imperceptible motions.
“Don't move. Don't open your eyes”, he says after a moment, his words sounding less like an order and more like a desperate plea. You nod ever so slightly, enjoying the entire interaction far too much to risk ruining it now. You need this, need him.
He draws a shaky breath, seemingly warring with himself over whether or not he should even be doing this in the first place. Just as you think he may push you away, you feel his lips press against your own. His movements slow and gentle as he shifts his hand on your cheek to allow him to fully close the gap between you. You almost open your eyes in shock, but you manage to quell the impulse, a whimpering moan sounding deep in your throat as you kiss him back, desperately trying not to get carried away. Your hands twitch at your sides as you restrain yourself from touching him, afraid that if you do it will break whatever spell he seems to be under. You settle for simply kissing him, trying to pour as much of your desire as you can into it. A low groan sounds from him as you return his kiss fervently, and it's all you can do not to climb onto the man's lap.
It feels like hours have passed like this, so much so that your neck begins to ache from the awkward angle you're standing at, but you persist. It's not until you feel him pull back, panting heavily, that you realize he may not be as unaffected as you initially thought.
“Open your eyes” he pants, his thumb returning to caress your now swollen lips as you kiss the pad delicately. Your eyes feel heavy, your mind hazy, as you finally manage to do as he asks, eyelids fluttering open slightly to meet his intense gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his mouth hanging open lightly as he continues to try to catch his breath. To many, you realize that he could be perceived as frightening, or perhaps even ugly, but to you, especially in this moment, he is the most beautiful sight you have ever seen. His cheeks lightly dusted in pink, his one good eye struggling to focus, his breath coming out in short puffs and his thumb continuing to caress your lip. He is perfect. And you need him.