#medplay

cw: medplay (sorta)

more like this

“So, you say you’ve been having some troubles with your back, correct?” Your doctor, Kento Nanami (according to his pristine name tag and the sign slotted onto the door), swivels around in his chair to face you instead of your medical profile. You nod and sigh.

“Yeah, it’s mainly the lower half,” you say, wincing a little when you straighten up. “It hurts when I try and lie down or sit up too quickly.”

Nanami nods carefully. “Does this sort of ache-“

“It’s more like a paralysis.” You interrupt him, before blushing in embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off.” He smiles kindly and you take it as a sign to continue. “It’s just- it feels like all the muscles kind of… seize up, I guess?”

“Do you get that feeling anywhere else?” He question, the clacking of his keyboard background noise to his comfortingly low voice. “Hips, neck, shoulders?”

“My hips, and my shoulders. Oh, sometimes my neck if I move it too quickly. So I guess all of the above?” You say sheepishly, avoiding his eyes for prolonged periods of time.

Nanami asks you the rest of your symptoms, concern floating a little across his face. It isn’t fake or false or even distinctly professional, he genuinely looks like he wants to help- it makes you feel slightly warm under his gaze, as he stares at you so intently like you’re the only thing worth listening to.

And since when were doctors so... attractive? Blonde hair sits perfectly above his glasses, eyes boring into yours, large hands typing something down into your file. Nanami sits in his chair with his legs spread a little, the whiteness of his coat a cool contrast to the blue of his scrubs, and you mentally slap yourself for craning your neck to get a better look at his forearms.

“Okay.” Nanami hums eventually, brows slightly furrowed as he leans forward to listen to you. “Well, if you’re comfortable, I’d like to conduct an examination of your spine and general bare torso, just to see how your body reacts to certain pressures. Is that alright?”

You snap back to reality and immediately nod. “Yes, I’d be fine with that. Do you need me to take my bra off?”

“Just unclasp it then hold it at the front, please.” He says coolly, “I’ll go and prepare- that is, wash and sanitise my hands, etcetera- if you could just stand facing that wall,” he notes coolly, gesturing vaguely at the poster board, “that would be just perfect.”

The door clicks as he leaves, and you suddenly feel rather nervous. The soft fabric of your sweater slips off and you neatly pile it onto your chair, before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra; with a quiet click! it slips down until you’re holding the cups in place just a little awkwardly. You try to ignore the way you're wondering if your doctor knows how to take off a bra, and busy yourself with the notices in front of your face.

The poster board in front of you has everything you’d expect to find in a doctor’s office. Information and helplines for quitting smoking, a few cartoon drawings of fruit informing you to eat healthy, all smushed in between the various other flyers. Just as you’re getting around to scrutinise the text on a poster about heart rate, there’s a knock.

“Can I come in?”

You startle just a little, readjust your hold on your bra while facing the wall, and nod before remembering he can’t see you. “Yes!” The noise of his shoes softly clicking onto the floor makes you shiver in anticipation, his speech drifting from somewhere unidentifiable. Like this, all your senses are heightened, and its making you nervous.

“So,” Nanami says from behind you, “for hygiene reasons, I’m going to be wearing a pair of gloves. Are you allergic to latex, at all?”

“No.” You shake your head again, ears perking up at the faint rustling of crisp plastic behind you when he opens the packet of gloves.

Silence passes for a few moments, broken occasionally by the snapping of latex against Nanami’s large hands as he works the gloves on and smooths them down. At least, you assume that’s what he’s doing, because you can’t see him.

The plastic makes a soft, almost creamy noise when he pulls them taut to his wrists, sliding them down across each individual finger. Something in you hums a little, an unbidden spark of warmth low in your belly you register with something akin to horror. Surely you’re not… into this, right?

“Can I touch you?” He says gently, “I’ll need to move your hair.”

“Yes, that’s fine.” You say, voice as calm as possible when his gloves fingers brush your hair from your nape and across your shoulders.

“I’ll just be touching your spine and general torso area. Let me know if you need anything.” Nanami hums, before pressing his fingers to your skin.

You almost twitch. The latex skims across your flesh, crinkling as Nanami thumbs at your vertebrae. It feels too intimate, even with the barrier.

“Does that hurt?” He breathes, fingers splayed across your shoulder blade. “You’re tense here.”

“No, I- it’s not. Sorry, I’m just not used to the… pressure, I guess.”

You can hear Nanami’s smile in his voice, “that’s perfectly fine, most patients react the same way." Yeah, I bet, you think, warmth pooling uncomfortably well in your abdomen. "I’ll move back to your spine now.”

As he does so, pressing firmly down on your skin, the feeling of the gloves is satisfying in a way that makes heat gather in your cheeks and, unfortunately, between your thighs. You feel so exposed, panties no doubt clinging to you below the jeans you tugged on for this appointment.

It’s all so medical, so clinical as he touches you. Fingerpads pressing methodically against your spine, occasionally reaching up to thumb over your nape; but when he gets to your lower back, your breath picks up.

You pray he doesn’t notice the flush. His hands roll over the dimple in your back where your spine curves down to the very tail end, but thankfully he doesn’t dip further than your waistband. "Does this hurt? Any pain?" Nanami says, thumb pressing down onto your skin. You almost squeal when he splays his palm out across your lower back, mind conjuring up images of him using the same positioning to arch your back further beneath him.

It should be disconnect you feel from this, not an urge to slither your hand between your legs and touch yourself as softly as he’s holding your back. You find yourself imagining how his hands would feel holding onto your hips as he ruts into you from behind, how they’d feel wrapped around your bare thighs.

Strangely, in these scenarios, the gloves remain on.

“You didn’t point me to any pain at most of my touch.” Nanami says, suddenly snapping you out of it, painfully reminding you that the exam was entirely medical. “Which leads me to believe you simply need to decompress- I’ll write you down a few recommendations.”

As he speaks, you hear the way he peels off the gloves and drops them into the medical waste bin. Your chest pangs at the loss. “I’ll allow you to get dressed quickly, and I’ll be back.”

As you pull your sweater back over your head and fumble with the clasp of your bra, your hands quiver. “Fuck.” You mutter to yourself; seriously, what was that? Since when were you into doctors- and the gloves they’re wearing?

Maybe it’s just him, you try and convince yourself- wouldn’t most people get turned on by a hot guy touching their bare skin? But then again, the gloves felt so good. The way they skimmed across your spine, the way you imagined his gloved hand dipping below your waistband. You’re soaked; and, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing.

When Nanami enters again, you’re already perched politely on the chair from before as he smiles and settles in front of his computer. “Now, then.” He says kindly. He’s smiling at you totally professionally, the way he probably does for every single other patient, and yet your thighs clamp together.

“I did say I’d offer you a few solutions. I don’t believe you need specially prescribed medication, so just stick to painkillers for now. As for homemade remedies…” he adds, sliding a piece of paper across the desk.

His handwriting is neat and loopy, the letters conjoined but still legible. “Oh, thank you!” You say, already skimming the list. “I’ll do these. Thank you so much, doctor Nanami!”

“You can call me Kento.” He smiles, standing from his desk to approach the sink in the corner and apply hand sanitiser. “Now, call in for another appointment if it starts to hurt again.”

You nod, thank him again, and hurry out of the door. At the top of Nanami’s neat list is written “take relaxing, hot baths.” And who are you to refuse the doctor’s orders?

That evening, after a glass of wine and a casual binge of your new series, you drag yourself off to the bath you’ve been gently running. It’s bubbly enough now to the point you can’t see the water, and they hug against your regularly aching back.

As your hands lie on your stomach beneath the surface, they start to drift between your thighs and your breath hitches a little. Usually, your mind drifts to various situations with various faceless people until your orgasm crests. But this time, you have a very specific scenario in mind.

“Very good.” Nanami breathes into your ear, slowly sliding out of you as you smear slick along his cock. “Doing so well, hm?”

“Oh, Kento.” You moan out in the fantasy- and in real life, a little muffled and breathy. “So good.”

His hands are firmly planted on your waist as he gently rocks into you with all the care he showed during your appointment. He’s still wearing his gloves, crinkling across your messiness and gently tugging your mouth open for your doctor to gently slide his tongue inside.

The latex bunches over your skin, shiny with your sweat when he readjusts himself to knock into your g spot even harder to hear you keen. In the bath, water sloshes at the sides of the bathtub as your fingers flick across your clit and you gasp.

But in your fantasy, it’s Nanami’s fingers. More specifically, his gloved thumb comes down to circle your budding clit and the ridges on the latex make you whimper; the material shimmers with your overwhelming amounts of wetness, and Nanami groans to himself.

“Look at this.” Fantasy Nanami says lowly, a lilt of laughter to his voice. “So messy, hm? Ruining my gloves like that. And here I thought you were my favourite patient.”

You sulk as best you can with your lips constantly being forced open around moans. In the bathtub, bubbles collect atop the thin lacquer of sweat on your skin.

“Oh fuck, please-“ you breathe to yourself, fingers working your cunt as you imagine they’re gloved in latex and belong to your blonde doctor. “Please please please-“

When you cum, your body seizes up and you gasp silently, before everything goes limp and you’re floating dreamily in the bath’s foamy embrace. But that familiar ache in your back has returned again- maybe you need to book another appointment.

masterlist

a/n: have a lovelyyyy week!!

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