Christine (spaghettitoes) wrote in spaghettific, @ 2010-08-31 21:52:00 |
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Current mood: | energetic |
Entry tags: | alles was zaehlt awz, bbtp, olars, rating: nc-17 |
The Making of Dr Oliver Sommer
Title: The Making of Dr Oliver Sommer
Show/Fandom: Alles was Zaehlt
Characters/Pairing: Oliver/Other (haha because I don't dare call him an original character!)
Warnings: Playing fast and loose with what little medical knowledge I have. Secret and obscure society is secret and obscure so don't ask 'kay!
Summary: We travel back in time to the beginning of Dr Oliver Sommer's career and discover the seeds of Olars
Disclaimer: Fictional characters, fictional place, fictional plot. Don't own them, haven no influence and don't profit (unless you count that I used a lot of work time to write this so technically... :P). If I owned Show there would be an Olars reunion and ALL of it would be censored, I would wallpaper their new sex dungeon with the complaint letters we received.
It had seemed like a good idea at first…hell, it seemed like a perfect idea; the best distraction known to man. Mindless sex had quickly proven to be just the thing the soon-to-be Dr Sommer needed to help him forget the stress of exams or the pressure of choosing a speciality. He didn’t need the help with his grades like Helga but it didn’t hurt to have lecturers and supervisors on your side when you were running around trying to be everything you wanted to be. Tolerant eye-rolling and the promise of a good fuck at the weekend was preferable to public humiliation and official cautions when you missed a lecture, left a patient hooked to the ECG for half a day or turned up late to theatre.
Learning the Code of Conduct was interesting. He had put aside his well-worn textbook on tropical diseases and committed the rules to memory with equal diligence, remembering who could approach who, what was expected of a pledge and how to address his seniors. Any secret society or club had rules and Helga had warned him about them long before she’d taken him to his first meeting. But she mentioned nothing about memorising the correct way to decline an invitation of fellatio from a Professor. Of course, refusing a request was frowned upon so when Dr Stimson approached him in the library Oliver blushingly apologised for his inexperience and the trainee surgeon settled for a hand job in the respiratory medicine section. Being asked for a concurrent recitation of the bones of the hand was his punishment and he was ordered to correct the lapse in his education immediately.
Helga’s propensity for practical demonstration made her tutorial on oral sex far more interesting and Oliver was becoming accustomed to being watched so the curious peers that looked on gave him little concern. When she had ordered them to practice on each other things became far more uncomfortable. Alex was repeating the year and the mess of teeth and murmured apologies Oliver suffered through gave him little hope for his graduation.
Despite his partner’s poor technique and lack of self-restraint Oliver had learnt enough to build on but had little opportunity to practice thanks to Dr Schmidt and her demands on him. It wasn’t until Dr Braun from Obstetrics decided to further his education that Oliver was freed of her strong thighs and the overuse of her riding crop. He lay receiving the reward for his progress when he first noticed the man watching from the corner of the room. As he looked the light struck Dr Laske and Oliver could see the patient intensity as the lecturer watched him. He was accustomed to being watched but the focus and interest being paid to him suddenly sent a pulse of excitement through his body. He rolled his head to the side to look at Dr Laske, smiling tentatively until his interest was returned. Their eyes meet and Oliver’s orgasm accelerated and heightened, much to Dr Braun’s surprise.
Oliver assumed that Dr Laske, lecturer in sports medicine, had a preference for watching and thought nothing of it, wondering only at how a watcher’s eyes were as powerful as any hands on his skin. No-one else who might glimpse or casually observe Oliver in action seemed adequate, failing to look at him with the same regard or intensity, their gaze never seemed so real, so palpable a thing as his. So clear was Oliver’s enjoyment of Dr Laske’s attention that his attendance in lectures improved, sitting near the front and watching his teacher intensely, waiting for his eyes to touch him. When the class was over he’d linger, feeling every line of his body being reviewed before rushing to the bathroom, touching himself urgently and finishing breathlessly.
* * *
The winter was well established and the occasional meetings that took place occupied more and more of Oliver’s thoughts. Before the Christmas break Oliver had accepted that, in all likelihood, he had become infatuated with Dr Laske and was becoming more engrossed in sports medicine as a consequence. The time and attention the physician paid Oliver left little doubt he was interested but, much to Oliver’s chagrin, he never seemed to join in, turning down numerous offers and the attention of admiring pledges that swarmed around him. It became abundantly clear to Oliver that Laske liked only to observe and so accepted what he could get, looking for him, performing for him at every opportunity.
Oliver’s opinion was unchanged until a snow drift delayed his attendance and he arrived to find Dr Laske pinned under Dr Schmidt, the riding crop surprisingly absent. Oliver lingered in a shadowed space, heat building inside him as he watched Laske, studied the thrust of his muscles and the sweat on his skin. He looked intently to his face, to the biting lip as he kept his silence, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Oliver watched without thinking until blue eyes shot open and Dr Laske’s attention turned to him. Their eyes fixed and Oliver wanted desperately for it to hold, to be the focus of his attention when he was gripped by orgasm. “Sommer.” His voice was commanding though his erratic breathing, “Pledges cannot…watch…unless instructed to.”
He wanted to insist upon the instruction but instead Oliver nodded apologetically, considering if he could pull his attention away.
“Come here.” Dr Laske waved him forward, indicating to the space beside him.
Oliver leapt to the spot, dropping down and crawling the last few inches as he stretched out alongside the couple.
“Should I undress?” He asked timidly, feeling so nervous it might as well have been his first time there.
“No.” Dr Laske reached up and moved Oliver’s left hand to his chest.
Oliver smiled, their eyes never shifting as he moved his hand carefully, exploring and memorising the heated muscles. He studied the chiselled jaw dusted with black stubble, rich dark hair and the piercing blue eyes that looked at him with equal interest. Dr Laske moved his hand up to touch Oliver’s cheek, his skin soft but his touch firm as it pressed across his face and fingers curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
Their lips met and for an instant Oliver was too surprised to react, no-one there had kissed him before. In the months he had been attending meetings and accosted in corridors not once had someone thought to put their lips to his. He had forgotten it could be so revealing, how the mingling of breath made his pulse rise. He soon returned the kiss with passionate energy, drawing Dr Laske forward. The rest of the room meant nothing to them as they became entangled, hands grabbing at hair, tongues tormenting and enticing with every move. Dr Schmidt paid them no attention, too consumed by her own orgasm to even notice. As Dr Laske was pushed to the edge their lips parted but he held to Oliver. Their foreheads pressed together he gasped for breath until, with his final release, his lips found Oliver again in breathy, gentle kisses as he slowly descended.
Oliver clung to Laske and when Schmidt said her goodbyes he encouraged the tired and sweaty teacher to rest on him, face buried in his faded t-shirt, arm and leg draped over him with intoxicating weight as he slept. All the time Oliver looked at him, memorising his body in the hopes of exploring every part of him in the future. When Dr Laske awoke he smiled hazily at the creature beneath him before looking around them in confusion.
“Everyone’s gone.” Oliver confessed.
“We discussed you today.” He sat up and looked casually for his clothes, “I don’t think there’s a lecture, course or clinic you’ve arrived to on time since you started here.”
“Well I…”
Pulling on his trousers he stood and looked at Oliver, “You don’t need help with your grades but we can’t help you if you will insist on being perpetually tardy.” He smirked and Oliver couldn’t help but smile in response, his mind alive with ideas.
“So what have you decided to do about me?”
Dr Laske laughed, an uproar of a laugh that only excited Oliver more, “You’re something else Sommer.” As he reached for his shirt he grabbed Oliver too, pulling him up by his t-shirt, “I’m mentoring you from now on.”
Oliver smiled as he watched Laske button up his shirt, remembering what he had read about mentoring. At the time it seemed contrary to every other thing the group did but right now he couldn’t think of anything better. Dr Laske looked up and caught his smile, reflecting it, “I’ll see you in class on Monday.”
The time until class on Monday was unfathomable and only sixteen hours passed before Oliver grabbed his books and trudged his way to the library knowing that if he wasn’t approached at least he would get some studying done. He had the good fortune of both, a few hours in contemplation of the spine followed by Dr Braun, gasping and appreciative in the journal archives. Oliver had blushed as the doctor looked him over and shook his head regrettably, “Damn shame you’re being mentored now. Get your act together soon Sommer.” - he turned to look at Oliver one last time before leaving with a clearly disapproving frown - “Laske is the type to keep you all for himself.”
* * *
Oliver listened to his lecture with unwavering attention, his mind so excitable that a single glance from Laske would leave his hand itching to slide under the desk As the class ended Oliver started to wonder what excuse he would manufacture for his delay when a rich, coarse voice boomed across the lecture theatre, “Stay where you are Sommer, we have matters to discuss.” Oliver nodded and sat down, the room soon emptied of everyone but them. Dr Laske remained motionless; his attention fixed but not where Oliver wanted it. He moved uncomfortably, his erection pressing to the seam of his trousers and when he moved a little to ease the discomfort he found his hand lingering, teasing himself through layers of cotton as he pictured being pinned to desks or laid out on an examination couch.
Dr Laske moved, arranging papers and strolling casually to the door. Oliver opened his mouth to object but instead the door was locked and he was finally touched by those piercing blue eyes.
“Come here Sommer.”
Oliver’s bag fell to the floor as he rushed to the front of the room and to Dr Laske’s side. Firm hands grasped Oliver’s shoulders and positioned him in the centre of the stage as if to lecture the room and Dr Laske stood back, looking to the erection pressing to Oliver’s trousers and smiling in quiet amusement. He reached forward, briskly opening the belt and fly before unzipping his trousers and stepping further back.
Oliver gasped, his body too consumed to allow coherent speech.
Laske laughed, “Go on then.” When Oliver didn’t move Dr Laske nodded to his pressing erection, “Or do you need to be in the toilets?”
Tentatively Oliver reached into his shorts, insistent eyes compelling him to wrap his fingers around his hard flesh and tug gently as Dr Laske smiled.
“You like watching?” He panted, stumbling back to lean against the podium.
Laske relaxed into his stance, “What would you prefer?”
Oliver’s grip tightened as his audience smiled and a sharp intake of breath was the best he could muster, finally relying on a confused murmur.
Laske chuckled, shifting his weight to the other foot as he fought the urge to move forward, “You rush from class to class without picking a speciality and you fuck as you’re told. Don’t you know what you want? Or don’t you know how to take it?”
“I...” he considered stopping, he wanted to stop but the focus on him was too intense, “...I want...you.” He confessed, the proud grin on Dr Laske’s face and the strengthening of his muscles as he prepared to move sent a shot through Oliver’s system.
“Better.” He walked slowly forward, slipping his hands casually into his pockets and stopping beside Oliver, “So...?”
Oliver reached forward tentatively with his free hand, running it down his cheek carefully.
Dr Laske raised his eyebrows with disapproving scepticism, “Make a choice Sommer.”
There was a moment, a drawn out second where Oliver paused but the ferocity of Dr Laske’s gaze and the heat radiating from him was intoxicating. Oliver wrapped his fingers around Laske’s neck and pulled him forward sharply, covering him in breathy, grasping kisses. The doctor tried to smile smugly but was too quickly engaged by Oliver’s eager lips and gave-in to the tongue that darted across his. Oliver pressed himself closer, his free hand grasping randomly at Laske’s shirt and he breathed in sharply, “Damn-it don’t just stand there.”
Dr Laske chuckled, holding Oliver’s face and kissing him until he moaned with free abandon. Laske grabbed Oliver by the waist, moved him to centre stage and stood behind him. Oliver relaxed against the wall of flesh and let his rhythm build, reaching back to hold Dr Laske as another hand slipped into his shorts. Oliver lost all concern, his hips rolling back into the hardness behind him as Dr Laske added gentle, tantalising touches to his own fervent effort. The fingers that forced their way under his t-shirt to claw at his muscles and toy with his nipples were less considerate. Oliver’s head rolled back, his neck perfectly extended when Laske decided to draw his mouth back and forth on the skin. Sperm sprayed Oliver’s clothes, droplets escaping to land on the wooden flooring and his body fell back, his lecturer the only thing keeping him upright.
Gasping for air Oliver leaned into the continuing caress of his neck, Dr Laske bestowing fiery energy with every touch. As soon as Oliver had the conscious effort to move he turned, hands tugging eagerly at Laske’s belt as Oliver drew more fervent kisses from him. Laske smiled around Oliver’s lips as his trousers were tugged open and Oliver pressed their bodies together. Oliver couldn’t stop kissing Laske, the intrusion welcomed as he drew on him passionately, “I have…in my bag…”
Dr Laske nodded, pulling away and pushing Oliver back, “Hurry up then.”
Oliver bounded across to the rows of desks, leaning across and fishing through his upturned bag with anxious hands. He glanced around slightly and laughed “You know - you could always…”
There was a sudden pressing at Oliver’s back as Laske stood behind him, his hands sliding under Oliver’s t-shirt and clawing at his skin, “Hurry up.” He insisted warmly. Laske’s hands moved with purpose and Oliver’s eyes rolled closed as his search intensified, notebooks and pens being thrown out of his bag. As those same hands pushed his shorts down and began to tease between his cheeks, carefully moving his legs further apart, Oliver groaned, lifting up to support himself on his forearms as he handed the condom to Dr Laske.
Poised, Dr Laske held Oliver firmly by the hips before pushing forward forcefully. Oliver’s head fell forward as he called out and Laske leaned into him carefully, hot breath on Oliver’s neck as he spoke, “Okay?”
Oliver rolled his hips back, biting his bottom lip as he leaned into Laske and drew his forehead across his cheek until their hair mixed together.
Dr Laske grinned, his hips moving subtly with his breathing, “Purr and you fail my class Sommer.”
Oliver chuckled, their movement combining to carefully establish a rhythm between them, “Yes sir.”
Laske moved more forcefully, “I had hoped your reform wouldn’t be so immediate.”
His body compromised by relentless waves of exhilaration Oliver’s arms weakened and he fell forward, his remaining strength keeping his legs held firm, “I can be…obstinate.”
Oliver didn’t notice how white his knuckles were as they gripped the table, the pool of sweat where his forehead rested on the desk or how he cried out. Blessings and curses fell blindly from his lips until a soft hand firmly covered his mouth, tugging him upwards and pressing him against the burning heat of Dr Laske’s body. The doctor issued a deep and breathy hush before holding Oliver to him with one hand pressed to his chest.
Oliver registered the sudden clench of teeth in his shoulder as Laske climaxed and bit down to keep himself quiet but it was only when his movement slowed and Oliver felt his senses return that he wondered at his skin. When he turned to look Laske slid his t-shirt back, the skin unbroken but the pattern marking his skin undeniable. Unconcerned he enjoyed the final moments pressed fiercely to Laske and smiled as they fell motionless together.
The next thing to register in Oliver’s mind was the warm laughter that shook him softly and he opened his eyes to see Dr Laske’s joyful smile across his shoulder. Laske nodded forward and Oliver turned to see the white spray across the desk and chairs in front of him. He groaned in horror and disappointment as Laske pulled away, righting himself while Oliver looked at his calling card in horror. “What should we do?”
Dr Laske collected his notes from the front of the room as Oliver tugged his trousers back into place “I think, under the circumstances…leg it and deny everything.” He grinned as Oliver looked at him in shock, “You’d rather explain to the cleaners?”
“No.” - Oliver dabbed the chairs uncertainly with a crumpled tissue - “I’d rather no-one knew.”
Laske handed Oliver his bag and nodded for them to leave, “Then we should leave before the cleaners get here.” Stopping, he unlocked the door and held it open for Oliver, “I’m the one who’ll be in trouble if we’re caught.”
Oliver’s reform was perfectly scheduled to improve slowly towards graduation, enjoying the time with Dr Laske more than he could have expected. Once he had a focus academically he found time to spend at Laske’s command or, more precisely, commanding him. He felt empowered and had never found such an effective reason to become more imaginative than having Dr Laske fulfil any fantasy or heated dream that entered his mind. He enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around school grounds, finding empty offices with expansive desks or being twisted around on the back seat of a Volkswagen. He enjoyed the long entangled kisses and times when they came together slowly, paying diligent attention to each other’s bodies.
Laske gave him a trust and confidence unlike anything he had ever experienced so that, come graduation he felt stronger and more empowered than he ever had. Leaving for his foundation year was bitter-sweet. For all he was looking forward to the possibilities that lay ahead, to the future he now felt infinitely more confident about, with it came his goodbye to Dr Laske. Neither were overly sentimental but when he left Oliver knew that he was saying goodbye to a connection he might never share with someone again.