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Deep in his oddly purple tinted control room, The Monarch startled henchmen 38-45 with a sudden burst of loud, evil cackling. Which isn't all that odd, because that's just how he laughs and he makes the same startling noise whether he is plotting murder or looking at cat memes on the internet, but it startled henchmen 38-45 who are new to the control room. They were recently promoted after the cocoon had a sudden bout of murder from an unexpected run in with Brock Samson.
The rest of the henchmen don't really care one way or the other as The Monarch began to gloat about how he has devised the most evil, torturous, nefarious plan yet to kill Doctor Venture! Did he mention how evil and torturous is?
“Yes, dear, you said that already.” Replied a bored Dr. Girlfriend who was filing her nails.
“Well I just wanted to make sure you'd prepared yourself for just how downright evil of a plan it is.” The Monarch explained, pausing.
"...Well, what did you do?" Dr. Girlfriend sighed then prompted.
The Monarch, grinned in that unhinged evil way he gets some times and said "I've sent him Flowers!"
----
Doc is in the hanger, going through the back log of mail he's been ignoring all week (month? I don’t know the lights are still on so it can't have been that long since he last opened an electric bill). Brock is polishing his precious car. The boys are outside somewhere doing something that hopefully will not require Doc to warm up the old clone slugs.
The mail is mostly boring. "Bill, Bill, overdue notice, death threat signed in blood...Oh, Brock! It says here we may have already won 25,000 dollars!"
"Throw it away Doc, it's junk!" Brock shouts back not even looking up from his tender caresses to the hood of his car.
Doc dumps out the rest of the box of mail on to a small table. Amongst the envelopes stamped with red overdue notices lies a bouquet of still fresh flowers wrapped in cellophane.
"Oh flowers!" exclaims Doc to an audience of no one. Brock has moved on to polishing the wheels of his baby and has stopped listening.
"These must be from one of my adoring fans!" Doc shouts.
He hastily unwraps the flowers, looking for a note. Or maybe a check of some kind? That would be nice. Anyone who can afford to send flowers like these can probably afford to throw in a check. Or maybe a gift card? He fails to find either but he gets a good whiff of the golden flowers. The scent is sweet and somewhat familiar, though he doesn't recognize the blossoms.
He takes a deep breath trying to place the smell.
"Brock... do these smell like... grape soda to you?"
That gets Brock’s attention immediately. "Doc, put down the flowers!" Brock shouts while simultaneously raising the hand holding the polishing rag to cover his mouth and running towards Rusty. Brock knocks the flowers out of Rusty’s hand and pulls Rusty to the other side of the hanger away from the flowers.
"We need to lock down this room!" Brock shouts, fiddling with the controls on his watch. The steel panic shutters come down sealing off the hanger from the rest of the compound.
"Now really, Brock...," wheedles Rusty. "Just because you’re not as popular with the super science fans, it’s no reason to overreact like this. I’m sure some day someone will send you flowers randomly in the mail." Doc continues, not at all grasping the gravity of the situation as Brock man handles him into a decontamination shower on the edge of the hanger. Brock pulls the handle to start the shower which gives a little shake as the pipes groan and then nothing else.
"Damn it Doc, does nothing in this lab work!" Brock shouts as he drags a very confused Rusty back to the car where he's left the hose after washing his car.
“Those pipes were made of copper! They were practically a gold mine left to rot behind a wall!” Doc defends himself as Brock lets go of the arm he’s been dragging to grab the hose from off the ground.
Turning the hose on full blast at an almost instantly sodden and deeply offended Dr. Venture, Brock finally explains, “Those flowers are poisonous, Doc!”
Rusty squawks like a chicken that’s just realized what’s for dinner. He sputters under the ice cold shaft of water spraying him in the face, unable to prioritize between indignation at Brock’s rough treatment and fear for his life.
“….Wa-WHAT!!!” he finally shouts.
“Those flowers are S. Aureuses, Doc!” Brock explains, keeping the hose on full blast. “We have to try to wash the pollen off you before it can sink in.”
“Did you say Staph Aureus?” Rusty questions. “Isn’t that a bacterium?”
“No, Doc. It’s a Sex Aureus! Its pollen is a deadly poison the O.S.I. used to use before the UN outlawed it. Take off your cloths, we have to minimize your contact.” Brock commands, hose still on full blast.
Rusty immediately begins stripping off his speed suit. “That’s ridiculous, a little pollen never caused anything more deadly than hay fever!”
Once Rusty’s stripped out of his pants, Brock turns the hose towards the pile of clothing on the floor. “How you feeling, Doc?”
“Cold.” Rusty snaps, shivering from head to toe.
“Good, cold is good!” chuckles Brock, adjusting the hose to spray down the abandon flowers lying twenty feet away, soaking the rest of the unopened mail at the same time.
“Well, there go my flowers…” Rusty sighs as he wraps his arms around his thin frame. “It’s kinda sad, those are the first flowers I’ve gotten in years.”
“Someone was trying to kill you, Doc.” Brock remind him.
Rusty just sighs and continues to stare mournfully at his ruined bouquet.
Brock hates to see that look of defeat on Doc’s face. “Look, if it means so much to you, I can pick up some new flowers for you next time I go out.” He offers.
Now this, this is when something strange happens.
Rusty had often appreciated the exceptional level a care his bodyguard paid to not only his physical wellbeing but emotional too. It was one of his favorite things about the man. Sometimes it made him feel a little fuzzy on the inside, but in a mostly friendly way.
This feeling he was having was decidedly not friendly.
A flush started in his cheeks and worked its way down to his knees, which was actually an odd look on old Rusty.
“Uh, …. That’s very thoughtful of you,” Rusty chokes out, trying to figure out exactly when he swallowed a swarm of electric butterflies and why they picked this moment to begin gnawing under his skin. “Um, what was that poison supposed to do anyway?” he asks nervously.
Brock turns around at the strange timber in Doc’s voice. He frowns, taking in the almost full body flush.
“Uh, Brock?” Rusty prompts, still feeling that butterfly-y feeling eating away at his skin as Brock stares speechless at him.
Brock takes a moment to contemplate his mostly naked kind-of-sort-of-but-mostly-because-no-one-else-applied-for-the-job-best-friend. A moment from a few weeks ago flashes through his mind. Dean and Hank bickering about something from the back seats of the X-1. Doc sitting next to him on the flight home, grinning at something stupid he’d just said.
God Damnit.
“Don’t worry Doc,” Brock soothes. He didn’t really want to do this but he wanted even less to watch Doc die. “I know how to stop it, but you’re not going to like it.”
Rusty was starting to get nervous between the way Brock was looking at him and that electric butterfly feeling moving closer to his crotch.
“W-What is it?” Rusty asks.
Brock was advancing on a retreating Rusty until he has him pinned between his body and the side of the car.
“We’re going to have to have sex.” Brock explains.
“WHAT?!” Rusty shouts, the electric butterflies suddenly stunned into stillness beneath his skin.
“That pollen you were exposed to is a potent neurotoxin. If we don’t draw it out it will over stimulate every nerve in your body till it reaches your brain, then BOOM, hemorrhage.”
“But- What does that have to do with s-sex?!” Rusty stutters, still trapped between a car and a hard place.
“The toxin is stored in your semen, Doc.” Brock explains.
“THAT’S NOT EVEN REAL SCIENCE!” Rusty complains. But at that moment Brock moves his hand to grasp lightly at Rusty’s sides and those electric butterflies come screaming back to life and suddenly everything feels weirdly good.
Brock moves his hand lightly up and down, stroking Rusty’s sides and somehow this light touch is the most exquisite thing he’s ever felt. A moan escapes Rusty’s lips and suddenly Brock is too ashamed to look Rusty in the eyes anymore. He bows his head down and bends enough to breath into the juncture of Rusty’s neck.
“Look, just don’t hate me for this in the morning, alright Doc?” Brock whispers into Rusty’s skin. Rusty is too far gone to really do more than moan again at the feeling of Brock’s hot breath against his skin.
Wanting to get the whole thing over with, Brock gets down on his knees, prepared to both literally and metaphorically suck the poison out. Slight problem though, even down on his knees, Brock is still at eye level with Rusty’s solar plexus.
Rusty stares in mute wonderment as Brock gets back up and lifts him easily off his feet. Brock plants a pliant and dazed Rusty down on the trunk of his car so that this time when Brock goes to his knees he is eyelevel with his target. Moving his hands from Rusty’s waist to his underpants, Brock carefully slides them down off his legs reveling his rapidly hardening member. Good. If Doc’s already getting hard, maybe this will go quick.
Still dazed from the new sensations of his overly sensitized skin, Rusty registers the hesitation in Brock. He tentatively reaches out a hand to stroke through Brock’s hair, head still frozen at crotch level. The gentle touch snaps Brock out of it, reminding him that there is a reason this is the option he went with. Blowing Doc might not have been high on his to-do list, but it’s a hell of a lot better than living with his death.
Brock gets back down to business, at first stroking the shaft almost perfunctorily. Even this impersonal touch is too much for Rusty who lets out a shaky moan as his hips stutter. Brock makes the mistake of looking up then, just in time to catch Rusty’s half lidded stare. There is this moment of eye contact and Rusty is grinning that same stupid grin that Brock remembers from the moment flying back on the X-1 and suddenly this moment is way more intimate than it was supposed to be. Brock finds himself tightening his grip on Rusty’s cock and leaning in to lick a long strip up the underside of his dick.
Rusty is still smiling and it makes something warm uncurl inside Brock and he’s wrapping his lips around the tip with none of his original reluctance. Rusty has to close his eyes and plant one hand behind him, firmly on the trunk of the car to serve as support. Rusty’s hips are doing this little stuttering thing and while this wasn’t part of the original plan, Brock can tell that Rusty is getting closer and suddenly he wants something more.
So he takes the hand that he’d been using to keep Rusty’s hips still and trails it up over Rusty’s chest and offers the fingers at mouth level to Rusty who doesn’t even have to think about it. Rusty just takes one look at those fingers and sucks them into his mouth. If he were in his right mind he would be embarrassed at how readily he takes the first two fingers into his mouth, licking what he can and trying to suck them down to the base. Even Brock’s fingers are big and he can’t quite get all of them down but the weight feels good on his tongue and he’s just not going to question it.
Brock is finding himself inappropriately turned on by the display, or maybe it’s appropriately giving that they are having sex right now. Either way, he lets Rusty go on sucking for a minute past the point he means to stop him. Even after his fingers are good and wet he lets Doc go on sucking, finding the sensation far more pleasurable than he imagined. Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out and brings his hand to the juncture where Rusty’s ass meets the cold metal of the car’s trunk. There’s not a lot of room to maneuver but he’s not exactly planning anything fancy. He takes his wet fingers and rubs them gently between Rusty’s ass cheeks. With only a slight application of pressure his fingers catch on the rim of Rusty’s ass, rubbing in a way that has Rusty moaning and moving both his hands behind himself to stay braced upright against the car.
It takes less than thirty seconds of this treatment and Brock still sucking lightly on the tip, for Rusty to come screaming, his orgasm amplified by the toxins working their way out of his system. Brock lets off the tip when he feels Doc start to come, catching most of the cum in his shirt.
Doc slides off the trunk feeling boneless but also a little more clear headed now that the electric butterfly sensation has stopped gnawing at his skin. He finds himself straddling Brock’s lap where he feels something hard and persistent nudge against his backside.
“Why Brock,” he begins when he manages to recover his breath. “I do believe you are more into this than you lead me to believe.”
“Doc…” Brock pants out, trying to get a hold of Rusty’s hips to still his squirming. “I’m going to need you to stop moving like that.”
“Are you sure that’s what you need?” Rusty asks playfully, moving both arms to wrap around Brock’s neck.
This time it’s Brocks turn to moan as Rusty continues to press his naked ass down on Brock’s trapped erection. Rusty leans forward as much as he can in an attempt to get his lips to Brock’s face but he misses and they land on Brock’s neck instead. Rusty starts to lick and nibble at what skin he can reach. Turns out orgasms and not dying really get him in the mood.
Brock is feeling a bit helpless himself in the face of all this and shakes his head. “Nevermind Doc, keep going.”
That’s all Rusty needs to hear and he starts grinding down on Brock’s dick with purpose while teasing one of his hands under Brock’s shirt.
“My god, you really are made entirely of muscle.” Rusty comments, his fingers tracing a path over hard muscle.
Sensing that he’s getting close, Brock doesn’t respond. He uses both hands to grab Rusty and hold his teasing hips still while Brock roughly ruts against him.
Brock makes a small “guk” noise and a face that is going to make Rusty laugh forever whenever he thinks about it again.
As their breathing starts to slow down Rusty finds that both his arms have snaked their way around Brock’s neck while both of Brock’s arms are wrapped tightly around Rusty’s waist. As Brock looks down and takes in wet spot on his pants and the mess they’ve made between them, a thought occurs to him.
“Well, that’s one adventure we won’t be telling the boys about.” Brock says.
Rusty finds himself laughing so hard they both fall over into a puddle made earlier by the hose.
---
One week later:
The Monarch has been growing increasingly more agitated as Dr. Venture remains stubbornly alive. He just doesn’t understand what could have happened. Dr. Venture should have found those flowers by now.
He’s been increasing testy with the henchpeople as he tries to work out the mystery in his head.
“I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND!” he finally shouts in the middle of the control room. “But where would Dr. Venture find someone willing to have sex with him?!”
The End