Phobias

After our brief introduction Mr. Hot-As-Fuck lead me to my room, which resembles more of a cell than anything close to a room. It's fucking small, but strangely; when Gerard walked in, it didn't seem to bother me so much. I could actually breathe. My fucking god, I have only been here a few hours and I'm already starting to get better.

"Okay Frankie," Gerard starts, sitting down at the opposite end of the bed from me, "I'm going to perform a few tests, you know, just to make sure you're at optimum level health so you can properly receive treatment. Do you understand?" He finishes, glancing up at me with a warm yet questioning look.

"Sure, doll-face. You can do anything you want to me." I flirt, winking and smirking.

Gerard chuckles nervously and blushes, fidgeting around.

"So, um, anyway; Can you lay on your back with your hands above your head?"

"Ohh, you don't waste any time do you?" I say smirking and waggling my eyebrows while I lay back.

"No! Um, I just need to see if your diaphragm and lungs are expanding properly." He says nervously, placing his hands on my exposed abdomen and applying pressure in certain spots.

I involuntarily moan softly when his forearm brushes against the front of my skinny jeans. Either he didn't notice or just ignored it, but he continues his evaluation. He starts to pull away and I whine.

"Aww Gee! Why couldn't you keep going?"

"Gee? Whoa, Frank, I think you're confused about the rules of doctor/patient relationships. They are meant to be formal only. That means no nicknames, no inappropriateness at all. Sure, you may be hot and all, but I'm your doctor. Plus I'm 22, you're 16 for god's sake." He says, running his hands through his raven hair.

"You think I'm hot?" I say, smiling.

"Ye-No! Well, yeah I do--but that has nothing to do with anything in this conversation! The point of the matter is that I cannot put my job on the line, nor can I ruin your reputation." Gerard states, sounding mentally exhausted.

"But--" I start wanting to say something, anything, but not knowing what.

"Listen Frank, your evaluation was fine. I'll come back to see you tomorrow to start your treatment. Goodnight Frank."

Some evaluation that was, although his hands did feel pretty fucking good pressed against my stomach.

As he walks out the door, he flashes me the smallest of smiles, one I would've never seen if I hadn't been admiring the way his ass looked in those pants.

Well, fuck. That didn't go the way I had planned.

I will not fail, that man will be mine. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but he'll be mine someday soon.