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Applied Medicine [Heavy x Medic] (9)

1 .

Every repost is a repost repost. By Charshy.

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“Mein Gott.”

Medic had an ungloved hand slapped over his face as he leaned back on his door, clicking it shut. The operations of the day had taken it out of him. Physically, mentally, emotionally… it was not easy dealing with calmly patching up a team mate, a friend, with broken bones, bleeding, seeing their pain when they were brought in.

They were all on strict bed-rest. There had been no room in the infirmary for all of them, so he had ordered their return to their rooms for now. He’d threatened them all with core temperature readings if they did not comply with his instructions.

He’d showered afterwards to purge the memory, and now, he would try and read a book, maybe. If he tried to sleep, he’d get nightmares –

“I waited for you, Medic.”

The doctor jumped, as Heavy was sitting on his bed, and he marvelled at how he could not have noticed the enormous man. He was truly exhausted. “Ach, mein Heavy. I am sorry I did not see you.”

“Is okay.” Heavy had Sascha leaning against the wall by Medic’s desk. “You had long day.” His face showed obvious concern. “Come to me.”

Medic smiled despite his weariness, moving towards him, and made no complaint whatsoever as Heavy pulled him onto his lap. He was a colossus of a man. Medic had perused his files a thousand times, wondering how Soviet Russia had created such a man – naturally, or engineered? – but found nothing except he was in very good health. There was nothing but ripples of muscles under his ill-fitting uniform. He’d patched Heavy up so many times he could read his skin like a roadmap, and knew it like his own.

“Medic look sad,” Heavy stated, gently stroking his arms. Though his hands were like shovels, he had great control over his strength. He would sooner tear himself apart than hurt Medic in the slightest. “I can make it better?”

“Ja,” Medic said quietly, as Heavy kissed his cheek. “But mein Liebling, I am not sad. Just… tired of zis endless war.” He kissed Heavy in return. “I wish I did not see you in ze hospital.”

Heavy was an openly affectionate man, secure in himself, and had no reservations or social inhibitions about showing how much he adored Medic. He kissed Medic’s cheek repeatedly, nuzzling his shoulder. “But I am glad I get hurt,” Heavy answered. “Is how we met.” He saw Medic’s lips quirk upwards, and he broke into a smile himself. “How we stay a team. Always.”

Heavy carefully moved and stripped off his shirt, revealing the criss-cross of bandages Medic had applied earlier, and his strapping frame. “Feel good as new,” he declared.

“Still,” Medic said sternly, running studious fingers over them automatically, “you had better not let me catch you carrying Sascha for at least – ”

He was cut off, as a very adoring look had crystallised in Heavy’s eyes, and he seemed to be blissfully ignoring every word, tugging at the knot in his tie.

“Nein! I’m being serious,” Medic insisted, although his hands automatically seized the knot of his tie to assist, and unthreaded it.

“I know,” Heavy said, smiling. “I think you need to be less serious now.” He stroked back Medic’s thinning hair, before pressing one hand into the small of his back. “Relax.”

“I am not going to relax,” Medic said slowly and firmly, as Heavy’s hand moved lower to squeeze his posterior, making concentration very difficult, “until you promise to take it easy.”

“I promise.”

“… Heavy,” Medic said in a strangled voice, “That – oooh – iz not inspiring me with confidence that you – mmph – mean it.”

“I make you feel good,” Heavy whispered, still kneading with one firm hand. “I only need you, happy.”

“I’d be much happier if you didn’t – ”

“Relax, doctor,” Heavy urged, lifting him up effortlessly, and lying him back on the bed. It creaked as he leaned over his Medic, unbuttoning his coat. “I made promise. I do not want to make more work for you.”

Medic looked up beyond his glasses, which lay off-kilter on his nose, at Heavy’s face, his eyes smouldering with intent. They could both be very stubborn, but at the same time, he trusted this one man beyond anything. That Heavy cared more about giving him more work than whatever pain he might be in made his obstinacy fracture, allowing him to accept he could bask under his affections.

“Alright,” Medic said, with a tired, “you win” sigh. “But you must stop if you feel any pain, ja?”

“Of course.”

Heavy was pleased to have gotten through to Medic. It frustrated him, sometimes, that he could not express everything he wanted in words. English had never been his strongest skill. His immense strength was his skill, and the one he had chosen to hone to perfection instead.

Still, he would make sure he could make Medic feel loved in every other way he could. And he would not break his promise. He could wait.

He struggled with Medic’s shirt buttons, but managed to undo the tiny, fiddly things. He’d had much, much practice at it, particularly as he had sworn not to have to buy Medic anymore shirts.

He swatted away the doctor’s hands when he tried to help. “You relax.” Heavy smiled.

Medic sighed in content, placing his glasses to one side, and raising his arms above his head so his shirt could be removed. Heavy was gentle in every way, but paid heed to everything he said and did… his hands were much firmer when they ran over his chest and stomach. He was not made of glass, after all, and Heavy knew what he liked.

The larger man stopped to tug at Medic’s boots, which resisted at first, but came away easily under his pull. Medic couldn’t help but smile a bit as Heavy neatly paired them up by the end of the bed. Some things were just so engrained…

Heavy caught sight of his expression, and returned quickly to kiss him. His weight made Medic sink against the mattress, and Heavy’s body was a warm, firm, stabilising weight above. He felt very safe. He had never been crushed under his weight, not once in all the time they’d been together.

Medic scratched the back of his neck, knowing he liked it, and sure enough, he got a rumbling sound in response.

“You are good doctor,” he heard, against his shoulder. “But need to relax more often.”

“Yes…” Medic murmured, closing his eyes as Heavy kissed and suckled at his neck. His lips were soft but pressed firmly. Medic was always secretly thrilled if he discovered bruises the day after. He always had liked an edge of roughness, and his lover knew so.

The taste of the doctor’s skin was perfect as always, and arousing, but Heavy kept a rein on his impulses. No, he had promised, and he wanted to give his tirelessly working, selfless Medic the worship he deserved.

He sat up, and next on the agenda were the jodhpurs. They were nothing to Heavy, easily unzipped and pulled away. Nothing left except his tight underwear – tighter still, by now – and Heavy carefully peeled them from him.

Medic shuddered at being freed, looking up at the enormous man looming over, stabs of anticipation running through him. He stifled a groan as Heavy’s hand roughly pressed against his erection, grinding it between his hand and stomach.

“Oh, yes, Heavy,” he moaned, knowing exactly what he was going to do next, rocking his hips upwards to indicate he should continue.

The other man complied, withdrawing his hand, pressing both of them to his hips, before settling between his legs, which Medic spread widely and eagerly.

Heavy grinned at that, giving the doctor a knowing look, before descending his mouth over him slowly, the gasp he got music to his ears. He would get many more before he was done, he was sure.

“Nmm,” Medic murmured, putting himself at his lover’s mercy. His mouth was firm and unrelenting, but slow, oh-so-slow, putting him through exquisite torture, taking his sweet time in making him come. And god, it was sweet. Sweet and sharp.

Just as Medic was reaching the stage of getting very comfortable – pleasurable, but without urgency – Heavy shifted one arm to lean in further... taking him into his throat, pressing nose and chin against his balls.

“Heavy…!” Medic gasped, his hips rising from the bed at the unexpected motion, only to be pressed down by strong hands. He shuddered. Heavy’s hands could beat a man to a bloodied pulp, but with him, they suppressed their strength, were desirable and firm and…

… all of a sudden, Heavy was sucking faster and faster, in the way that made his head spin, and were often requested when they had little time to spend together. Or just he just wanted a quickie. Or just wanted him to relinquish all his pent-up anxiety…

“Heavy,” the doctor moaned again, his hand pressing down on his lover’s head. It almost hurt, it was good but if he stopped he was going to /die/, it was /that/ good…

He fought his body, but it was no use: his hips tried to snap up and buck against Heavy’s mouth, and he could almost see the devilish glint in the other man’s eyes. Everyone thought Heavy simple, in thought and wants, but only Medic knew he loved watching him lose control, snap and become no one’s but his…

“Yes,” Medic moaned, his voice high and delirious, “mein Kuschelbär…”

He was thrashing and twitching now, his hands grasping the pillows above his head as Heavy ruthlessly drove him harder than he could stand… and he loved it. He loved being let loose, not to have to be everyone’s conscientious and reliable team medic, to just be a man…

… he loved his Heavy.

His voice was rising in breath and pitch. He was done for. But he would not go quietly.

“Heavy, Ich liebe Dich, stoppe nicht, du bist – ah, ah…!”

Medic let go entirely, his voice close to a primal scream as he came.

He collapsed weakly into the sheets, but already Heavy was cradling his limp body, holding him close.

“Küss mich,” Medic mumbled, forgetting their shared language, but somehow he was understood, a kiss richly planted to his cheek; he was too tired to turn to face Heavy, and he had done his best to comply.

“Is now your turn to rest,” Heavy mumbled against his shoulder. “I go to my room.”

“Nein.” Medic’s arm found the strength to grab Heavy’s arm. “I – no. Stay with me, my Kuschelbär.”

He smiled tiredly. He was relaxed, and ready for sleep. He could not imagine anything more perfect than sharing this moment.

He turned over, Heavy’s hands assisting, and kissed him gently on the nose. He would make it up later, maybe once his wounds had spent a night’s healing. He always did.

Heavy got up to turn off the lights, and Medic lifted the cover so he could slide under the sheets with him – although on his frame, they were more like a large handkerchief. As always, he let Medic keep the majority.

“Good night, doctor,” Heavy said, contentedly, nuzzling a nearby shoulder.

Medic smiled. Heavy was far better at healing than he was, no matter what anyone thought. That’d be their secret.

“Good night, Heavy.”

*~End~*


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Brief German translations, for those who like these as much as I do.

Ich liebe Dich, stoppe nicht, du bist – “I love you, don’t stop, you are-” although I sure more talented German-speaking channers could correct me on this. I had to give myself a basic lesson in German via about.com to come up with this (did I capitalize the nouns correctly? Was not sure if this included abstract nouns like "love"). I refuse to use babelfish by principle.

Kuschelbär – “cuddly bear” WHICH I DEMAND BECOME A FANON TERM OF AFFECTION FOR HEAVY. IT IS TOO PERFECT. Thank you. :3
Marked for deletion (old)

2 .

This is the sweetest, fluffiest pornfic ever <3
YOU ARE AWESOME.

3 .

Still one of my favorites ever.

4 .

Kuschelbär







:B
I'm going to have to use this more.

5 .

I have never read of a Heavy giving head before, but I like it!

6 .

Loved it <3

7 .

We need more Heavy/Medic around here oh man

8 .

Not a fan of Medic being a dedicated doctor, given that...well...he's so obviously off his rocker in the game. BUT! That said, I loved this fic anyway, because Heavy giving blowjobs gives me girl-boners and seriously, there needs to be more Heavy/Medic stuff around.

9 .

>>7
>>8

Thirded. Where's my hot commie/nazi action?

10 .

>>9
lol, contradictory, much...?
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