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There's too many people around: patients laying on gurneys, doctors rushing between rooms, someone perpetually shouting down the hallway. The chaos of the ER never slows, a constant whirlpool of emotions and bodies spiraling as if it's constantly the end of the world— and for some people, it is.
Brendon's unabashedly pulling Dennis by the collar into the bathroom anyway.
"Your little cunt couldn't even wait half a shift before needing to be fucked again?" Brendon growls as he pushes Dennis up against the brick wall, thick fingers immediately dipping into Dennis's pants. "Tell me why I was sent a picture of your tits while I was in the OR."
Dennis can't help but moan, his breath quickly turning uneven while Brendon shoves two fingers inside of him. Slick has already been dripping through his underwear for at least an hour— thinking about the Shark getting hard while his hands are otherwise spoken for, unable to get himself off until he drags himself down to the Pitt and pins Dennis on the nearest flat surface.
The digits in Dennis's hole move roughly, a coarse friction sliding against his delicate walls as both his mouth and pussy produce obscene noises. The loud shck shck shck sounds filling his ears only make him gush more, head falling back against the bricks as Brendon moves his other hand to tug Dennis's nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
He gasps, head starting to spin, "I'm sorry Dr. Park sir, I—"
"If you were really sorry, you'd only be a slut at home where you'll be satisfied with keeping my cock in your mouth all day," Brendon replies, grinding the heel of his palm into Dennis's pulsing clit. "But instead I have to come downstairs and teach you another lesson about being so desperate for your holes to be filled that everyone sees you soak through your scrubs."
Pressure starts growing in Dennis's pelvis as he ruts his hips forward, rubbing his dick in small circles as the digits inside of him start speeding up. He can feel his orgasm fast approaching as they start curling just the right amount, his g-spot a whetstone to the sharp blade of Brendon's fingers.
But— the Shark pulls away. Dennis mewls loudly from the loss, suddenly clenching around nothing but his own desires. Brendon holds his hand up to Dennis's face, showing him the web of interconnecting slick that's clung to him like melting wax.
"Just look at how wet you are, Whitaker," he states, gravelly and low. His eyebrows furrow together as he continues, "I'm surprised a whore like you can even come into work without a vibrator stuffed up your cunt. You go crazy if you don't come your brains out every few hours, isn't that right, baby?"
The fingers in front of Dennis's face start to move forward, and he doesn't hesitate to open his mouth wide. Brendon hooks them into the side of his mouth, and he starts licking them clean, salty and viscous liquid hitting the back of his tongue. His nipple gets twisted harshly and he bites down, choking as his throat stays filled and he attempts to breathe.
"You should get these pierced for me," Brendon whispers, fingers steady on Dennis's tit. He presses his face in the crook of Dennis's neck and takes a deep inhale. "Then you can send photos worth looking at during surgery: and maybe it won't take you so long to come from me touching them while I ignore your pussy."
Even thinking about it makes Dennis's mind spiral: a sharp barbell stabbed through his skin, marking him— claiming him.
A glowing neon sign for all to see: I belong to someone— and he wants you to know it.
There's soon a hand running through his hair, pulling hard enough on the soft brown tresses to make him yelp. Every touch sends another signal shock through his body, electricity flowing through his veins.
"Now, what do we say?"
Dennis whines, "Please fuck me, sir. I need it."
"Selfish brat," Brendon sneers, yanking harder on his hair. The sting turns into a burn, scorching the earth that is his fading consciousness. "Only ever thinking about yourself. How do you survive down here without a mind in that pretty little head of yours?"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Park— please use me. Use my holes. I'm so empty without you."
"That's more like it. Now was that so hard?" Brendon says, yanking Dennis's bottoms and underwear to his knees. The cool bathroom air hits him all at once, sending a shiver down his spine. Goosebumps ripple across his skin, a tingling sensation that makes him feel dizzy.
He doesn't have time to think as Brendon shoves three fingers back inside his cunt, swiftly caressing the spot that makes his brain melt away the longer the tension grows. He's getting closer— and closer, and closer—
Teeth sink into his collarbone and Dennis's hips snap up, clenching down hard on the fingers inside of him as heat floods through his pelvis. He can hear the gushing slick from his hole hit the floor as he squirts, panting as his eyes roll back in his head. Brendon continues, fingerfucking him fast and hard as more and more wetness streams out of him in heavy bursts.
"Oh, fuck," Dennis moans. He can feel his knees start to tremble as his orgasm winds down: but the Shark's fingers don't stop. "Thank you, sir."
"One more."
A gasp is wrenched from Dennis's lungs as the movement in his hole persists, callously pressing against his insides. He squeals, "I don't think I can— I can't—"
"You can," Brendon growls, pushing a fourth finger inside. Warmth starts building again as the fingers start spreading as they move in and out. "You're already so close, I can feel it. Your cunt's begging for it— one more and then I'll fuck you how you deserve. Don't you want to be a good boy for me, Dennis?"
That's all it takes for him to come again, waves of pleasure radiating down his thighs and up his stomach as more of his release splashes onto the tiles. Chest heaving and eyes fluttering, Dennis sighs as the Shark removes his fingers again. He takes a moment to breathe while he still can— because he knows what's next.
"Thank you, ah—"
Brendon cups Dennis's folds, gathering an indecent amount of slick on his hands as he slowly massages back and forth. He pulls his red and straining cock out of his pants, stroking himself with a firm grip. He slicks up his length before hooking his hands under Dennis's thighs, lifting up and slamming him against the bricks.
Back scratching against the wall, Dennis rolls his head to the side so Brendon can drag his teeth across his neck.
With a single thrust, Brendon is sheathed fully inside, Dennis's cunt squelching as his cervix is rammed into with abandon. The fullness makes him feel like he's being split in two, and he wants— no, needs— more. His hand instinctively slithers down to his clit, but he's interrupted with a harsh bite on his sternum.
"If you try to touch yourself, I'm going to unlock this door and force everyone to watch as I make you squirt all over the floor. Do you understand?" the Shark mutters, nipping at Dennis's earlobe. "Would you like all your coworkers to know how much of a whiny cockslut you are? Hmm? They can probably already hear you, so why don't we put on a show for them?"
Dennis whimpers, a single sob hiccuping up his chest, "I'll be good, I promise. Please—"
"Your promises mean nothing to me, Whitaker," Brendon replies as he bares his teeth. His nails dig harshly into the underside of Dennis's thighs. "What I ask for, you will provide— with no questions. Now make me come before I change my mind about fucking you where all of the ER can see how much you beg for me to finish inside of you."
Dennis clenches down, trying to make himself as tight as possible as Brendon begins thrusting. It feels like his scrubs are going to split from how hard he's being shoved against the wall, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is the cock pounding into him so deep that he could start crying.
There's a stinging pain each time the tip of Brendon's thick cock smacks his cervix, the tight ring of muscle softening with every blow. Dennis can't help but groan as his hole continues dripping like a leaky faucet, fresh liquid forming a large puddle on the floor beneath them.
"My own personal fucktoy, ruining the tiles," the Shark purrs, his own breath catching heavy up his throat as he holds Dennis on the bricks. "Are you going to come again, slut? Three times in less than five minutes? You should be wanting me to show you off: your greedy hole taking whatever it is given."
"Please, Dr. Park, let me come again," Dennis sobs, his insides raw as Brendon keeps at a brutal pace. His shoulder blades get crushed against the wall as Brendon presses their chests together, flaming desire burning bright in between them.
"Still asking for more? You should be ashamed of yourself," Brendon grunts, fingernails piercing into Dennis's skin. "But you take me so well, so maybe I will be generous."
Dennis can see the mirror on the wall beside them shaking, hear the paper towel dispenser creaking—
Maybe everyone outside can hear them.
The thought runs straight from his head to his cunt and he tenses wildly, arms gripping firm around Brendon's shoulders while the rest of his body floats away.
Then, there it is again; the burning in the pit of his stomach, the dreamy clouds blurring his vision. The cock inside of him starts quickening, so he knows that the Shark is almost there, too.
"Will you finish inside me, sir?" Dennis begs, eyes glazing over. "Please— please finish inside me."
Brendon replies, guttural like a wild animal, "Touch yourself, Whitaker. Make yourself squirt while I load you full of come like a common whore."
He barely feels like he has control over his limbs, but Dennis reaches a hand down to his enlarged clit, rolling back the hood and rubbing the sensitive nub directly. Every time he moves, his slick folds rub against his fingers. It's impossible for him to close his mouth, so his voice comes out only as gasps and breathy moans.
His orgasm starts cresting— he can feel it, hunting him down like a storm chaser does a tornado. It's almost as if his blood has fully stopped circulating under his skin, a frigid cold before the world explodes in wildfire.
Brendon's cock grinds against the exact right spot as Dennis's hand stays steady on his clit, and his orgasm cleaves through him, his pelvis clenching so tight that he could pass out. It feels like all of his muscles have fused together as more slick gushes out of him, soaking the Shark's legs and more of the tile below.
While Dennis's mind is sky high, he hears a wheezing moan next to his ear, and then feels the cock inside of him pulsing, filling him with Brendon's release.
Thrusting through his orgasm, Brendon eventually slows, and pulls his cock out of Dennis— his come quickly mixing with Dennis's on the floor as it slides out of his gaping cunt. He lowers Dennis off of the wall, grabbing his jaw and bringing their lips together for a nasty, lengthy kiss.
When they part, Brendon pants, "I'm waiting, Dennis."
Dennis tries not to let his legs give out from under him, so he wraps his arms around the Shark's shoulders and says, "Thank you— thank you for letting me come, Dr. Park."
Instead of responding, Brendon yanks Dennis's hair up again, and drags the back of his head against the wall. Dennis whines, his hole still trying to squeeze the last drops of come out as the fog departs from his mind.
"Clean your disgusting mess up and change out of your filthy scrubs," Brendon gnarls, his hand quickly falling down and away. He tucks himself back into his dark pants, and unlocks the bathroom door. "Next time, I expect a photo of your plug in your ass. Don't disappoint me."
The door slams shut behind him.
Dennis slumps over the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. His face is flushed a deep crimson, hair tussled to hell and back— beads of blood starting to trickle down his legs. His eyes flash to the floor: a sticky ooze covering its surface, spreading farther with every second that goes by.
He rips some paper towels out of the dispenser, and gets to work— on his knees.