1 . Name: TeratoMarty @ 2011-08-01 09:58

So there's this thing where I am 1. terrified of, and 2. fascinated by, syringes and needles. It turns out that this causes me to write a fair number of stories, some of which I don't think I've ever posted before. This first one has been posted before, but got lost in the last crash. Originally inspired by Humon's work, the re-post goes out to Yang, who drew a WONDERFUL picture inspired by my work, but didn't think I'd ever written anything like this.
----------------------------------------------------
The Heavy didn't know what was in the syringe. All he knew was that his Doktor had gotten a crazed gleam in his eye, subtly different to the many and varied other crazed gleams that the Russian had learnt to recognise. This particular spark had led the Medic to raid the clinic on his own behalf.

The Medic often raided the supplies for items to use on the Heavy. Since their cooperation had taken a more... intimate turn, the Medic had introduced the Heavy to the pleasures of restraints, scalpels, electric shocks, and a host of others. The Heavy prided himself on being able to soak up whatever damage his lover could inflict, and there were always the soothing beams of the Medigun; he felt safe, no matter how depraved the Medic got.

But when the German dug into the medicine cabinet for what he said would be a new experiment... that made the Heavy's heart hammer with fear and lust. Lust gained the upper hand as the Medic collected his supplies and they retreated from the infirmary to the Medic's private quarters. When the Medic ordered the Heavy to strip, the large man did so without a moment's hesitation. He watched hungrily as the Medic took off his coat, tie and shirt. The Heavy had no idea what was coming, but he forced himself to remain still- any insubordination or over-familiarity at this juncture could still spur the Medic to a savage rage, which he would have no compunctions about taking out on the Heavy.

"Sit," the Medic commanded, pointing to his desk chair. The Heavy sat; fastidiously ignoring the Russian's erection, the Medic perched on the Heavy's knee. The German double-checked the implements that he had brought. A rubber tourniquet, a vial, a syringe, a bottle of alcohol and a pad of gauze. The Heavy felt a surge of anticipation just looking at the syringe, but sat patiently. To the Russian's surprise, the Medic tightened the tourniquet around his own left arm.

The Heavy found himself envious of the Medic's own right hand as the German stroked the crook of his left elbow with alcohol. He wanted to touch the Medic, anywhere, in any way... soon. The Medic did not usually allow casual caresses. As the Medic drew the clear liquid out of a sealed vial and readied the syringe, Heavy's hand hovered over the Medic's arm. The German looked slyly over his shoulder, and slid back slightly so that his hip brushed the Heavy's erection.

"This is a powerful sedative," the Medic said, in what the Heavy thought of as his 'lecture' tone. The older man flicked the syringe to expel any air bubbles. "When I am under, you can do with me... as you wish."

The implications of that statement sent a rush of heat to the Heavy's groin. "Anything, Doktor?"

"Have you ever known me to be less than a man of my word?" The Medic cocked an eyebrow as he pressed the tip of the needle against his skin. "Anything." The needle pierced the vein and the Medic depressed the plunger in one smooth motion.

The Heavy was on a knife's edge of anticipation. He was rigid with desire and terror at the thought of the Medic helpless in his hands. The Medic remained himself for long enough to withdraw the needle and place it back on the tray. As the drug took effect, he went limp in the Heavy's arms. His warm body sagged back against the Heavy's aching erection, and the Russian groaned.

Forcing himself to keep his motions gentle, the Heavy lifted the Medic in his huge hands. He was dead weight, surprisingly heavy for how small he seemed, but the Russian lifted him with ease. Exertion was not the reason that the Heavy broke into a sweat as he laid the Medic on his bed.

"Doktor?" the Heavy murmured, putting his face close to the Medic. There was no response. "Doktor?" He patted the Medic's cheek- still nothing. He grasped the Medic's left nipple between thumb and forefinger and pinched, quite hard. It earned him only the barest groan, and the Heavy felt he might have an orgasm right there.

Huge hands shaking, the Heavy tugged off the Medic's boots and fumbled to open his fly. Getting the Medic's pants off was an awkward practise, especially as the Heavy tried to strip off his boxers at the same time and got them wrucked together. Soon, though, the German lay naked on his own bed.

He looked so strange like this. He looked handsome, he looked delicate, he looked as it he might wake and start screaming at the Heavy at any moment. He also looked heart-stoppingly vulnerable. The bonesaw-wielding terror of the battlefield- the Heavy's cock jerked.

The Heavy let his fingers wander over his lover's body. The German was older than he was, his skin thinner, with gray strands in his body hair. However, his limbs were still long and straight, with lean muscle that could carry him far faster than the Heavy could run on a good day. The Russian kissed the German's arms, legs, chest and finally his face, his lips with a passion that the Medic would scarcely have tolerated if conscious.

There was something he wanted, something the Doktor had never lowered himself to do, something that the Heavy would never have dared to request. But now... The Heavy grabbed the tube of surgical lubricant from its place in the Medic's nightstand. He had to do this properly. Even if the Medic didn't feel it now, the Heavy knew he'd be punished if the German felt it tomorrow. The Medic had once carved the Heavy up with a scalpel, because his arm was sore after flogging his massive lover.

As such, the Heavy forced himself to go as slowly as his pounding pulse would allow. He pressed one lubricated fingertip into the Medic's ass. Relaxed though the German was, this muscle was still tight. The Heavy moved gently, stretching it from unbearable to merely amazing, and positioned himself between the Medic's thighs.

Getting the Medic's limp body in position would have been difficult for anyone less strong, less tall, less determined than the Heavy. He pressed the Medic's thighs toward his chest, then supported the man's calves on his shoulders. After a moment's desperate fumbling, his erection was positioned at the Medic's entrance. The Heavy couldn't wait any longer; he plunged in.

The Medic groaned faintly as the Heavy pressed into him, but showed no other response. The pleasure and pressure were unbearable as the Heavy thrust, working himself deeper into the Medic' body. The Heavy groaned, trying to control his reactions, but he knew he wouldn't be able to last long. He had never been allowed to do this before, to use the Medic as profoundly as the Medic had ever used him. He found himself ramping up his pace, seizing the Medic around the waist to slam into him again and again.

Panting with lust, the Heavy looked down at his Medic. The German's head was thrown back, his eyes rolled back in his head. His arms were spread in an unconscious gesture of surrender, of utter abandon. The combination of power and pleasure was more than the Heavy could bear- he came, feeling as if he was losing a part of himself deep inside his lover. He had no sense of time, of place, of himself The last thing he knew was a profound and blissful exhaustion as he slid onto the bed beside the Medic for the night.

When the Heavy awoke the next morning, he was deep underneath a pseudo-military base, as usual, but he felt that the sun should be shining, birds should be singing. He opened his eyes to see the Medic smiling at him.

"Guten morgen, mein Heavy."

"Oh, Doktor," the Heavy reached out for a kiss, unthinking, and was surprised when the Medic allowed it. "How, ah, are you all right?"

"Never better, mein Heavy." The Medic kissed him again, without prompting. "Perhaps ve shall have to do that again."

"Da, Doktor," the Heavy tried to contain his excitement. "if you want, maybe can do it to me."

"Nein," the Medic said softly. "You are big, but your heart is not so much bigger than that of other men. The dosage to put you under vould be dangerously close to the amount to stop your giant heart." He kissed the Heavy, yet again.

"Understand."

"Ve shall just have to make do vith the medical restraints," the Medic smiled wickedly. The Heavy kissed him, and did not ask again.

The Medic was glad. It would not do for the Heavy to find out that the syringe had contained only water.