The lull of vapid Society conversation passed through Will Henry like a fog. This was not the first time disinterest had hit him full-force during a Society-themed conversation. Nor was this his first time attending the Society with Dr. Warthrop. The two of them were familiar faces there now, and Will was old enough to understand most of the goings ons. He settled, bored, in his high-backed, creaking chair, at the Doctor’s side, and sighed loudly. Dr. Warthrop’s reaction was instant. Two dark eyes, hot from the intense conversation he had been apart of the moment previously, fixed Will like an insect specimen upon a pin.
“Is Captain Hichen’s reflection upon the East African Agogwe boring you, Will Henry?” Warthrop’s voice was rough with irritation, and Will replied with a cheeky smirk.
“No, sir, this is the most interesting thing I’ve heard all night. I’d love to understand the troupe lifestyle of the good Captain’s find.” He replied casually, raising his brows and tipping his chin down as if he were sincerely interested.
“Will Henry.” Warthrop spoke in a dangerous tone, voice velvet and hot with chagrin.
“Yes, sir?” Will Henry asked, tilting his downturned chin.
The vein on Warthrop’s forehead pulsed slightly, and his jaw clenched. Will Henry felt a gentle little flare of heat light up within his lower stomach. The Doctor turned to Captain Hichen, focusing on him across the table, and said briefly, “I need to take a respite to speak with my assistant about proper table manners, apparently. If you’ll excuse me.”
Will was on his feet, lanky and grinning, before Warthrop could utter a single “snap to!”. The Doctor made his way through the sea of tables, chairs, and Society members, completely stony-faced. Will was rather good at pushing his buttons. Then again, Warthrop’s buttons were rather easy to push.
The Monstrumologist and his assistant headed upstairs to their room. The moment the lock clicked into place, Pellinore exploded. “What the hell are you thinking? I thought I could trust you to behave as a proper, rational adult for a few hours, and yet the moment I turn my attention elsewhere, you behave as thus!” The volume of his voice rose exponentially throughout his speech, and it took much of Will’s strength to combat years of conditioning and not shrink back under the Doctor’s displeasure.
“Well, you see, sir,” Will began, taking a step towards Warthrop and reaching for him. “That’s the problem, right there.”
Warthrop narrowed his eyes, the silver streaks of age in his hair only highlighting the anger on his face. “Are you insinuating that the problem lies with me, Will Henry?”
“Yes, sir. You said the minute you turned your attention from me, I acted up.” Will’s hand closed around Warthrop’s wrist, and he lightly tugged, pulling the Doctor towards him. Pellinore scowled, putting up subtle resistance. He was aware of the game Will Henry played.
“I acted up because I like your attention, Dr. Warthrop.” Will grinned, easing closer to the Monstrumologist.
Warthrop stiffened up, his high cheeks coloring ever so delicately, and he pulled a little more insistently against Wil Henry’s grasp. “Will Henry.” He gritted out between clenched teeth, struck by the irony of the situation. Will was almost as tall as Warthrop, a young man at the height of his prime and the very cusp of adulthood.
“Yes, Doctor?” Will dipped his voice as low as he could, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively at the pale man before him.
Pellinore curled his upper lip and turned his face aside, sighing loudly. “We’re here to enjoy the company of the Society, not each other. Surely you can wait until we go home.”
Will snorted and lifted his hand, gently guiding Pellinore’s face to his. “We can be quick, then you can go talk to your stuffy Society friends.”
The Doctor hesitated briefly as Will’s lips met his own, then settled, opening under Will’s affections. It took Will a moment, but he gathered Pellinore’s hips in his hands, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit jacket and pressing against him. Shuddering slightly, Pellinore broke the kiss, mumbling across Will’s jawline, “Quickly, Will Henry. Snap to.”
Will chuckled, turning to graze his fingers over the stubble rising across Pellinore’s chin. “This was my idea, remember, Dr. Warthrop?”
Pellinore pursed his lips slightly, then relaxed again as Will stroked down his back, cupping his cheek with the other hand. Will being near his own height had a gratuitous effect on Pellinore, enabling him to negate the fact that they were master and assistant. The twist to their relationship made him feel nervous, guilty, and thrilled all at the same time. It enriched the experience.
Will pulled the Doctor out of his thought by pushing at his broad shoulders, the heels of his palms fitting snugly where the Doctor’s arms met the trunk of his body. Pellinore took a step back, the insides of his knees making contact with the mattress, and sat. Will stooped slightly in order not to disrupt the kiss, working at Pellinore’s chapped lower lip with his teeth.
The Monstrumologist sighed into his mouth, one hand tentatively resting on Will Henry’s neck. Will nipped a little harder at Pellinore’s mouth, and the Doctor arched his back, tugging free of the kiss to gaze, eyes lidded heavily, at Will. “Will Henry.” He spoke softly, voice deep and velvet and easy on the ears.
Will swallowed audibly, having gotten exactly the reaction out of Pellinore that he wanted. The Doctor placed one hand on Will’s hip and the other in his hair, fingers carding through his locks and tugging. Will sank to his knees before Pellinore, and his fingers deftly worked the fastenings of his pants open.
Pellinore’s voice came out gravelly, even lower than before. “Will Henry.”
Will parted his lips and took Pellinore’s freed cock down his throat. The Doctor’s head snapped back, his nails sinking into Will’s scalp. “Fuck.” Warthrop hissed, grinding his teeth and softening his grip to tangle his hands in the other’s hair. “Fuck, Will, more.” He ordered, legs parting a little to compensate for Will’s body between them.
The assistant worked eagerly, bobbing his head and playing his tongue over the slit on the tip of Warthrop’s cock. The Doctor writhed slightly above him, Will’s hands finding the tense muscles of his thighs and rubbing gently. “There’s a good boy, Will Henry.” Warthrop murmured, stroking Will’s hair, having regained some of his mindset.
Will’s lips curved minutely in amusement, and he settled his legs apart, shifting closer to find friction against the Doctor’s calf. Warthrop’s hand guided his speed, picking up the pace as Will fluttered his tongue along the underside of Pellinore’s shaft. Pellinore cried out, raspy and loud, than repeated, “Good boy, Will, good boy.”, and came. Will’s hands tightened their grip on Warthrop’s thighs, breathing hard through his nose, and did his best to swallow.
When Pellinore was done, Will sat back on his heels, making eye contact with the Doctor before licking his lips. The Monstrumologist’s softening cock drooped against his leg, and Will beamed, immensely pleased with his performance. Pellinore sighed and gazed fondly down at the other, petting the hair he had pulled at so mercilessly.
Will Henry gently tucked Pellinore’s cock back into his dress slacks and did them up, settling at the other’s side on the bed. Pellinore’s arms wrapped around him, and Will tucked his face there against Warthrop’s still heaving chest.
Pellinore struggled to find words, holding Will tightly. “You’re a cheeky little devil, aren’t you, Will Henry?” He asked, voice easy and soft in his afterglow.
“Yes, sir.” Will replied, smiling into Pellinore’s chest. “I try, sir.”
The Doctor huffed into Will’s hair, rubbing his back, and planted a kiss upon the crown of his head. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”