
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/457589.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Merlin_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Merlin/Arthur_Pendragon
  Character:
      Merlin_(Merlin), Arthur_Pendragon, Hunith_(Merlin), Gaius_(Merlin)
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Medical_Kink, Medical_Device, Team_Gluttony
  Collections:
      Summer_Pornathon_2011
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-07-12 Words: 746
****** Hypocritic Oath ******
by flammablehat
Summary
     Arthur is familiar with bodies.
Notes
     Written for Summerpornathon 2011, challenge 1 - sex toys. Merlin is
     16 in this story; Arthur is a significantly older adult.
Arthur is familiar with bodies. He sees bellies, hips, nipples, throats, feet,
ears – all of it – every day. If the parts and pieces of human anatomy hardly
fazed him in medical school, they’re like furniture now. Part of the
background. Like equations. Arthur finds misplaced variables, fixing the broken
string of logic that is the corpus. ‘You see, Mrs. Jones, you didn’t carry the
two.’
He hasn’t seen Mrs. Emrys at his practice in a little over a year. He hasn’t
seen young Mr. Emrys in almost three.
“Just a check-up,” she says, nudging a reluctant Merlin forward.
His clothes are too big (disproportionate) for his body. They get in the way.
They’ll have to go.
                                      ---
When asked how old he is now, Merlin says “Sixteen,” and leaves it at that.
Dr. Pendragon hands him a paper packet and points to a door adjacent to his
exam room. “You can change in there.”
The gown is so flimsy Merlin accidentally rips it twice draping it over his
skinny arms. In spite of the fact that it’s measured generously enough for
someone triple his size, it gapes at the back. He carries his clothes to the
room in a bundle and drops them behind a chair.
Dr. Pendragon pats the teal-coloured pleather examination bench and Merlin hops
up, submits to a tongue depressor and the little black scope that looks inside
his ears and nose. The nurses already took his weight, height and blood
pressure. Merlin doesn’t hesitate when he’s told to turn over and lie on his
stomach. He tries to adjust his paper smock to cover himself, but Dr. Pendragon
touches his hands and he relents, folding them under his head.
“This will feel a little cold at first,” Dr. Pendragon warns.
“What are you going to do?” Merlin asks after a brief hesitation. Latex covered
fingers have settled on the curve of his arse.
“At your age, your body is beginning to develop into the man you’re going to
become. I’m here to make sure you’re sorted properly. Is that alright?” Dr.
Pendragon sounds quietly confident, steady. Soothing. His hands spread Merlin’s
arsecheeks, and that’s embarrassing, but obviously necessary.
“Okay,” Merlin mumbles into his arms.
It is cold. Then it is long, thin, hard, and inside. Dr. Pendragon explains
it’s a speculum at Merlin’s quiet noise of distress. The speculum spreads him,
holds him open for rubber-tipped fingers that search, locate, and circle a
little spot that feels weird, feels weird, plumps his cock against scratchy
paper and the bench.
Merlin breathes open-mouthed over his wrists, an aborted question on each
exhale. Dr. Pendragon rubs him, over and over and over, until he comes, hot and
wet and sudden.
“I see you’re scheduled for a follow-up in two weeks,” the receptionist smiles
when they’re sorting the paperwork. Mrs. Emrys looks worried, but Dr. Pendragon
reassures her with a hand to her shoulder.
“Just in case.”
Merlin says nothing, face flushed, arms crossed. He leaves with his head bowed.
                                      ---
The next time, Dr. Pendragon uses the speculum and something else. Something
long and a little thicker than his finger. It vibrates.
It makes Merlin come twice.
                                      ---
After their fifth treatment session, Merlin doesn’t bother with the paper smock
anymore. He gets undressed, lays on his hand, and catches his come in his fist.
                                      ---
It’s strange when he wanks, now. He clenches his arse around nothing and his
orgasms feel thin, weak. Unsatisfying. He would try to put something inside
himself, but he isn’t a doctor. He doesn’t know how.
He’s just shamefully grateful Dr. Pendragon requested him as a research
patient.
                                      ---
At their next appointment, Dr. Pendragon prods him onto his back. The speculum
is long gone, but the vibrating tool has returned. Merlin idly wonders what
else it might be used for, what it helps the doctor to see, while Pendragon
works it in rough circles inside his arse.
Merlin’s cock hiccoughs thick strands onto his belly while he writhes. He’s
long forgotten to feel embarrassed by his reactions.
                                      ---
Merlin pauses inside the door of the exam room. “Where’s Doctor Pendragon?”
The elderly gentleman in the lab coat turns around and smiles. “Doctor
Pendragon is at a conference. Are you one of my appointments? I’m Doctor Gaius
Whitmore, but you may call me Gaius.”
Merlin’s uncertain, but he shrugs. He’s pulling off his shirt when the door
swings closed behind him.
                                      ---
Arthur is familiar with bodies. Something about Merlin’s was too persuasive to
ignore.
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