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Going through the door and into the rented room after returning from the Sanctuary of Surasthana, the individual known as The Doctor, Dottore, seemed on edge. There shouldn’t be any reason for that, you thought, since the place was in the outskirts of Sumeru city and the trained Harbinger definitely was smart enough to notice and take care of anyone that might have made the wrong decision of following him. In summary, this tiny room was safe enough, or at least it should be for a few hours. It was never a good idea to linger too much in the same place, not when you were on an undercover operation meant to cause some ruckus —even if it was incidental. Alas, you knew he was going to be on a boat to Snezhnaya and you will be back at your undercover activities way before anyone noticed someone had been hiding there.
So, the problem he was facing must be something way different.
As you stood up, the individual in front of you clicked his tongue. “Where are the others, agent?”
“I told them to go away as you ordered before, sir.” You quickly answered, his tone and the way he didn’t use your actual name told you he wasn’t in the best of moods right now.
“Good. Now get on with it, would you?” Dottore harshly ordered you to get to work before sitting down on the nearest chair.
Ah yes, the reason you actually were there in the same room as a feared high ranked fatuus. As a being with many virtues, you usually assisted many of the fatui members with different things. One of the skills you had was that you were exceptionally good at repairing engines and machines. Someone recommended you and, with just a few instructions, you started assisting with repairing puppets like Katherine. It was weird at first, since a great difference existed between tinkering and assembling machine parts and performing what looked and felt like surgery on a human-like body, but you managed to get the gist of it. At some point, you started being the only one allowed to repair Dottore’s segments. Not alone, of course, since neither of them trusted you, but with the company of another segment. You never asked questions even though you wondered why you were even needed there. To be honest, they seemed to know way more than you about themselves to need any help. The answer finally came that time in Fontaine where one of the segments got injured while doing an experiment and there wasn’t any other clone around to help him. You were stationed there temporarily as a field agent under Pulcinella’s orders, but received a letter brought by a fellow fatuus and had to go help him.
This was one of those situations.
You looked at Dottore, not being able to find any kind of external injury. That ruled out some of the tools you were about to grab. You discarded those and you placed on the table the ones you assumed you will need. As you turned around, you ended facing the man in front of you. The edges of his mouth were twisted in a seemingly disgusted scowl.
“What’s the problem?” You weren’t completely sure you were referring to his mechanical issues.
“A few of my inner systems need some adjustments and calibrations, nothing too serious. But I would prefer to get everything in order before starting the long trip back home.” He explained curtly.
“It’s a shame you can’t stay longer in Sumeru.” You bit your tongue a few seconds too late. You could feel an ominous aura surrounding Dottore.
“I don’t recall calling you to have some sort of idle chit-chat. I suggest you to not make me waste my time.” He spat back.
Of course, you thought, how utterly stupid of you to say that kind of thing to someone like him. But you didn’t miss how he quietly added “I want to go away as soon as possible.”
You decided not to pry into the subject, since you valued you life.
“Lord, may I ask you to sit without having the back of the chair against your back? I need access to it to start doing the adjustments.” You tried to focus on the task at hand as a way to navigate safer waters.
He scoffed, but he did as you asked. Soon, you were faced with another issue. “Uh, Lord? I need you to take your clothes off.”
You saw his fingers clench one of the wooden back slats of the chair. Gone were your intents of living to see another day. But he didn’t say a thing. He started undressing, the way he seemed hesitant with every piece of clothing he took off surprising you, since every other clone you treated usually wasn’t too concerned about being half naked in front of you. After all, you were just a professional doing your job, nothing more, nothing less. You took his clothes and put them on the bed, before turning around and receiving two weird little chess pieces.
“Be careful while handling those, leave them on top of my clothes.” You did as he said, wondering if those things were what he was asked to retrieve.
“It seems your task was completed successfully.” You tried to compliment him.
“Of course.” Another scoff. “Don’t even dare to talk to anyone about what you just saw. That is, unless you want to be on permanent leave”. You got the message and decided to focus again on anything, literally anything to avoid almost getting yourself murdered every time you open your mouth.
There was only one thing left on the upper part of his body for him to take off, his harness. You unclasped it without asking, as it was something you have done before. You knew this harness was actually easy to take off, but every time you had to do maintenance stuff on a clone, they never took it off themselves. You always had to do it for them, since you couldn’t work with it in the way.
You dragged a chair to sit down and started working. Your first step was to press light-feathered touches on his back, searching for the right place to make an incision. You saw something move with the corner of your eye and shifted your attention to it for an instant. It was his hand, again. Clasping that poor back slat as if he wanted to break it. You held back the need to touch it to make those fingers stop tensing around the wooden back slat like that.
Then, you realized something. This was the first time you were doing this alone, no other clone to watch you and scold you every time you made a slight mistake —actually, that happened only twice. Suddenly, you felt yourself sweating cold.
As if on cue, you heard Dottore talk. “I assume you appreciate how much nicer is the weather here compared to the bitter coldness of Snezhnaya.”
Was that… an intent to make chit-chat with you? You noticed the way he stumbled a bit while speaking, something rather uncharacteristical of him, always poised and charming.
“It is, indeed it is.” You kept pressing your fingers to his back, skin cold to the touch. “The food is something else, too.”
“Have you tried biryani yet?” He seemed eager to know your answer.
You stopped your ministrations for a moment. “I loved it, but to be honest my favorite dish from here is baklava.”
He hummed, as if he were satisfied with your answer. You started to think you might have just dreamt everything that happened this last minute. You looked at his hand again and noticed that even though it was still holding the back slat, it was a lot more relaxed now. That gave you the idea that this conversation had been used by him as a distraction of some sort.
Finally, you found the right place and inserted the scalpel without a warning. Not that he needed it, since it wasn’t going to hurt. That was the reason why it surprised you to see him shudder slightly. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am. What kind of question is that?”
Back to pissy mode, huh, you thought while finishing cutting the synthetic skin. This was getting increasingly difficult with how he shuddered every time you tried to press the scalpel. You didn’t want to make a mistake while cutting him, so you pressed your other hand on one of his shoulders to make him stay still.
“What. Are. You. Doing.”
“I can’t cut if you keep trembling like that.” You briefly explained.
“I’m not trembling.” He sounded offended. “Why are you even trying to imply-”
“Oh, yes you are. You are shuddering like a little child.” You silenced him, a bit tired of his antics. What was living anyway.
“…” You weren’t sure if that silence was your death sentence or him not being able to bite back. “I’m cold.” He finally said.
“Don’t lie to me. It’s literally summer and we are in the middle of a rainforest. If I could I would take a bath because I have been sweating for the last three hours. But no, I’m here stuck with someone that doesn’t even want to admit something is wrong with him since he came here!”
Another silence.
Now you were dead for sure.
“You are of use to me, so I will not kill you right now even though I want to cut your throat. Actually, I could just cut your tongue since you don't need it to work.” It was your time to shudder before he continued speaking. “But it’s a disgrace that I quite enjoy hearing your voice. Consider yourself lucky, this won’t happen again.”
You focused again in what you were doing previously, this time without touching his shoulder. You could see his hand clutching the back slat again but you suspected it was a way to restrain himself to not end your life right now and there. He managed to shudder only once, so you were able to finally open his back to address the status of his body.
Ah yes, he was in desperate need of some repairing. It wasn’t severe though, so you couldn’t understand why would he want to make you repair him right now. With his actual damage, he should be able to go back to Snezhnaya and get all patched up by another clone later without a problem.
You tinkered around a little bit, adjusting some minor stuff with ease. It was annoying trying to get your hands to reach some of the pieces while avoiding others, but at least the built-in opening on his back was big enough for you to be able to see the inside of both his chest and abdomen area. Something that had been hindering your movements a bit finally caught your eye and you decided to see if it was functioning correctly.
You touched his spine, checking every vertebrae with slow and controlled movements. You heard him sigh but didn’t pay any mind to it, too immersed doing your job. Definitely doing your job and not marvelling at the technological prowess and how beautiful of a mechanical piece was that spine. A sound made you startle, but you didn’t register what it was.
“Stop.” Dottore ordered you, his voice strained.
“What?” You couldn’t help but ask with confusion.
“Stop that. Don’t touch me like that.”
“I’m sorry but I’m checking if everything is fine. Does it hurt?” Now you were worried, this was definitely uncommon.
“You know what you are doing. Just, get on with what I asked you to do.” You almost heard him plead. This behavior was strange and stirred your curiosity. So, you ended doing the last thing you should do.
You touched his spine again, deliberately dragging your fingers slowly through the surface. This time, you heard a soft mewl and the content sigh that followed. Oh.
Oh.
Someone was really touch-starved.
“You. You, you, you.” Oh no. “You…” He let out a strangled sound as soon he felt your hand gently caressing his hair to calm him down. You felt as if you were trying to tame a dangerous beast, but you liked challenges. His hair felt surprisingly soft to the touch, even though it looked unruly and was a bit sweaty because of the humidity, a not too welcomed gift courtesy of Sumeru’s climate. You hummed while concentrating on caressing him and you could see how he slouched a bit as his posture got more relaxed.
“Stop. Now.” He almost growled and you had the common sense to withdraw your arms to avoid a small knife from grazing your skin. Who knows where he kept that thing hidden, but you kind of expected that of him. It wasn’t even much of a surprise how he slashed the air with great accuracy even though he wasn’t looking at you. After all, he was an expert in the art of wielding bladed weapons.
“I offer you this,” you started, trying to say something that doesn’t ends with you being dead by Dottore’s hand. “I will finish your maintenance without touching anything I shouldn’t and then I’m going to give you the human touch you so desperately crave. In exchange, you won’t kill me at least for a while.” It was the worst argument ever, that explained why you were never sent in to negotiate things.
He seemed to think about it for a while. “Fine,” he conceded, withdrawing the knife. “I’m going to add one more thing, though. Not a word of this can come out of that mouth of yours, doll. If you dare say something, well, I guess you can picture it.”
“Yes, sir. I’m keeping my lips sealed.”
“Get to work. Now. Don’t get distracted or I’m leaving.” Dottore warned you, as if it wasn't him who asked for your help in the first place.
You gulped down your saliva and refocused on what you were doing. After a bit of tinkering and adjusting stuff, you were done. It wasn’t a surprise since you saw the damage he had prior to your intervention wasn’t that bad in the first place. Even though you wanted to look for a bit more at the beautiful design of the mechanical body in front of you, the amount of parts and pieces whose complexity resembled that of the human anatomy, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. With a frustrated sigh, you closed the opening on his back and stitched the synthetical skin.
“All done, sir. You don’t have to worry about your body anymore.” You informed him.
“You aren’t completely useless, it seems.” That was the closest thing to a compliment you have ever heard from him. “Go on, indulge yourself in your little experiment.”
“Uh, sir. I’m not thinking about experimenting with you, I merely offered that because you seem touch starved and I-”
He interrupted you. “I don’t need anything. Though, as a scholar, I shall allow you to test your feeble attempt of an hypothesis, so you can see with your own eyes that you are wrong.”
“Fine, let me get started.” You answered politely, ignoring the need to asphyxiate him with your hands. To be honest, you always wanted to roam your hands freely all around his body. It was more of a scientific need to satisfy your curiosity about the way his body worked than anything else, but this time a part of you needed to touch another being to fill an emptiness called lack of physical contact. “Where can I touch?”
You expected him to answer with a stupid joke or something about how you couldn’t even decide on something so simple. “The back is fine, you were touching it earlier and I don’t mind your fingers there again. Shoulders, too. Arms are also permitted. Touching my hair…” A pause. He seemed like he was struggling with something. “Fine, it’s allowed. Don’t touch my neck or my face.”
“Do you have any preferred method for me to use?” You felt weird asking that but, if the hand gripping the back slat again could be considered some sort of indicator about his actual mood, he was on edge.
“No.”
With a hum, you started with his hair again, caressing his strands slowly, trying not to touch the back of his neck. This time, he emitted no sounds whatsoever. But his breathing… it was a bit quick paced, as if he was afraid of losing some sort of restraint he desperately needed to maintain. Next, you massaged his shoulders a bit and heard him release a deep sigh as he threw his head back. His skin started getting warmer to your touch and now it resembled the temperature of a human being.
But this wasn’t enough for you. You lowered your hands until you reached his back again. This time, you slowly draped your nails, tracing his spine from top to bottom. He shuddered and tensed with a choked gasp, before you quickly shifted to his shoulder blades and started giving them light touches with your fingers. Now, he seemed to relax again, this time slouching a bit like he did before. Good, that was the kind of reaction you wanted.
One of your hands traced a path down his arm where there should be veins and capillaries. It looked as if you were searching for the right place to draw some blood. You kept going lower, fingers dangling around his wrist before grabbing it. That action forced his hand to open, releasing its grasp on the poor wooden back slat.
“Yes.” Dottore simply said, answering your unspoken question.
You grabbed your chair and moved around to be in front of him, as you finally reached his hand and started massaging it with your fingers, holding it softly with both of your hands. You couldn’t help but slowly follow its shape and caress the scarred knuckles. The skin was a bit discolored on some spots, and two of the nails looked like they had been bitten before, probably a byproduct of feeling nervous. That bit of information shocked you but you didn’t say anything. Instead, you placed a soft kiss on the wrist.
You looked up for a moment, afraid of Dottore’s reaction, but the man in front of you had his head tilted towards you, cheeks slightly tinted with red. His beaked mask hid most of it and you weren’t able to see his eyes, but you could feel something watching you intensely, following your every movement.
He extended his other hand and started leaving ghostly touches on your cheek, as if he were inspecting the feeling of your warm skin against his fingers. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the sensation with what you hoped wasn’t an overly pleased smile plastered on your face. Suddenly, the feeling of foreign fingers tracing the contour of your face disappeared and, instead, you felt a weight in your hands. You opened your eyes with confusion, just to see that he left his hand on top of yours. You quickly gave it the same massages and touches as you previously did with the other hand, kiss included.
As for the next step, the soft scarred skin of his abdomen and his chest were both out of question, since he didn’t include them in the “touch allowed” area. You decided to pat his head again, this time closer to him. While leaning towards him to reach his hair you almost fell to the ground, so you dragged your chair closer, his knees now touching yours. With a soft laugh, you extended your hands again and started giving him light pats and scalp massages.
This time, he leaned into the touch. Without thinking, you stood up and positioned yourself between his thighs, just to be closer. Now his face was almost pressed against your body. Almost. It's a test to see how he will react, you said to yourself, trying to ignore your increasing heart-rate and the way you actually needed to hold this man as close as posible.
It was your time to shudder and let out a surprised gasp when he hugged your body and pressed you closer. You responded by increasing the amount of caresses you were giving to his head, sometimes gliding your fingers through what you could reach of his back and shoulders. You tried your best to reassure him, to give him the proper care to make him feel better as you felt how he stopped pretending he didn’t need any of this. Soon enough, one of his hands started rubbing circles against your back with his thumb in calming motions. The other grabbed your hand and moved it all the way to the back of his neck. When you got the message and started slightly scraping his nape with your nails, you felt him stifle a small sound. Now both of his hands were caressing you in an attempt to give you back something of what you were giving him.
You lowered your head and gave him a kiss on the top of his head, and then another, and then another, and another. Your hands still caressing his neck and twirling his loose strands, fingers sometimes combing his hair to calm him down even further. He stopped his ministrations and clasped both of your hands, before placing them on what was visible of his face. You cupped his cheeks and caressed them with your thumbs, noticing the way he was way more flustered than before. You didn’t want to break the sweet intimate moment, so you bit back the teasing words forming at the back of your throat.
He leaned again into your touch, sighing every now an then, his head tilting a bit in whatever direction your hands moved, as if he needed to keep your touch on him as much as he could. You lost yourself touching his face, admiring every bit of his handsome features. As you touched one of his ears, he tilted his head a bit and rubbed the side of his face against your hand, part of his neck suddenly too exposed. Your eyes couldn’t help but look at it, the synthetic skin seeming enticingly kissable. Definitely you didn’t have what people call survival instinct. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be considering that right now.
But you went for it. You dived right in, inhaling his particular smell that you knew so well, pressing your lips against him. You placed a sweet kiss on the side of his neck, the raw intimacy of the situation making you act like you were asking to have a knife stuck deep in your stomach. You were deeply sure you crossed a line here. But then, you felt his hands were gripping your hair, pressing you against his neck, almost making you deepen the kiss. The way he held onto you almost hurt your scalp, but you ignored it in favour of depositing butterfly-like kisses on his skin. He couldn’t hide his trembling anymore, so you tried to make him feel better by hugging him and dragging your nails against his back once more. You knew he liked that, as all the evidence gathered until now proved it.
The way he returned the hug holding onto you, almost making holes in your clothes with the way his fingernails clawed desperately at your back, made you feel as if you were his lifeline. You held him as close as possible, both trying to get as much contact as you were able to. For a moment, you felt as if you were breathing again for the first time in a while.
“It’s okay.” You heard yourself say, whispering it over and over to the half naked being pressed against you, looking at him as if he were a creature that had been abandoned for a long time. You could see it on the way he desperately held onto you, the fact that he probably was never held this way in his long life. How was someone able to survive this much without affection? How can someone, anyone, live like this without becoming a monster?
You tried your best not to pity him, as you were aware of his wrongdoings. A sad past wasn’t something that had the power to magically excuse his actions, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart cry with sympathetic pain.
Without a warning, he separated himself from you and stood up. “It’s enough. You proved your hypothesis.” He conceded, his voice shaking at the end. He rummaged through his pockets before tossing something to you. It was a small bag of mora. “Since you have your civillian clothes on, you can go buy some biryani for both of us without arousing suspicion. And yes, you can buy baklava if you bring some for me. We must eat something before we say goodbye to this place.”
You blinked twice, having problems to tune back into this new situation after all that happened. “Yes, sir. But, if you allow me to ask, what do you mean by we?”
“You are leaving Sumeru with me. Don’t worry about the details, it’s the order of one of your Harbingers after all, so no one is going to say anything against it if they value their lives.” He explained, his tone back to normal.
Still, his previous scowl was nowhere to be seen and his overall demeanor seemed more relaxed now. You decided to accept the small victory.
“Understood sir.” You turned around, ready to head out.
“Wait.” You froze and looked back at him. “Don’t think what happened before has anything to do with this. I will be needing your services way often now that I don’t have more clones to assist me with my maintenance. Of course, this is only temporary.” He saw you still fixed on the spot, processing the new bit of information he just dropped like it was nothing. “You can go now.”
With many questions swarming your mind and a weird sensation that you might just have become addicted to feeling his skin against your fingers, you hurried to do what he asked.