Work Text:
Zandik did not consider himself a soft man, not by any means. Fate was a cruel thing, and it seemed to target him specifically, ever since his mother gave birth to him. His emotions were always complicated, overwhelming at times and underwhelming when he needed them to be present. His idea of relationships was mainly transactional, there was nothing soft or intimate about him, he couldn't think of anyone that would want to be anywhere near intimate with him, which is why he found his current situation so very irritating.
Zandik found himself growing ever so fond of a particular banker— Regrator —who was currently away to his homeland. A vacation, the man had called it, when Zandik all but stormed into his office demanding an explanation on the sudden departure. The Doctor did not understand one bit. Why did he need a vacation? Was he tired of Zandik? Tired of his constant need for funding and nagging? The man couldn't help but overthink, which is how he found himself to the present. Pacing around his lab like some love-ridden teenager rather than the full grown man he actually was. It was odd, he had never found himself in a place like this before, genuinely caring about what someone's opinion was of him, especially not to this extent. Tears prickled in the corners of red eyes as he thought over his current predicament more and more, frustration growing further and further, a scowl etching itself onto his lips. He didn't want to cry right now, it's not really like he could help it, the man never had a choice in that regard, tears came and went freely, and he was suddenly grateful for the crow-like mask that covered half of his face.
Luckily for Dottore (unluckily for Pantalone) his banker was returning today, in an hour to be exact, so he had exactly 60 minutes to prepare every question in his racing mind to bombard the other man with. He knew he was being dramatic, overthinking, really, which only made him more frustrated, but surely Pantalone would understand to some regard, he had always been more patient than Zandik. Unfortunately, 50 minutes had already passed without him realizing and he was pacing uselessly with stupid tears streaming down his stupid face, a soft sniffle emerging from the silence of his lab every now and again.
And unfortunately none of Dottore's segments had come to warn him of the bankers 10-minute-early arrival, which was really his own fault considering he had waved all of them off to go "be useful for once" and stop bothering him. He quietly regretted that action the moment he heard the familiar click of heeled boots outside his corridor, the door opening momentarily after.
Zandik's head whipped around so hard he could've swore he almost felt his mask slip right off his face. His state was pathetic— disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, tear-stricken face and a shake in his hands that didn't seem to go away no matter how hard he tried to focus on it. He was utterly mortified to have the banker— his dear banker— see him in such a state, even if, realistically, he knew he would not be judged. "You're ten minutes early." The Doctor quickly said, his voice uneven and accusatory, the man stood before Regrator was unlike any Zandik he was used to, this was more like a desperate ex.
Pantalone stood before him, his expression unbearably neutral for Dottore to not overthink it more, simply taking in the sight laid before him, so utterly raw and vulnerable. "Were you counting down the minutes of my arrival, dear Doctor?" He asked after a moment, tilting his head at the display, though his voice was notably softer than usual, he had a knack for being too utterly patient with such a difficult wreck of a man that was Il Dottore.
"You said you were going on a vacation—" He spat, ignoring the way his voice shook in something so raw it made him feel like a wild, feral animal. "Did you need time away from me? Are you tired of me already?" Zandik's voice grew more urgent as he questioned the other, his mind reeling at every possible scenario he could not quite figure out. He hated the way Pantalone was so gentle, so soft like everything should be, it was hard to discern, it was foreign to the Doctor, he couldn't view it under a clinical eye because this was not something he ever experienced before the ninth. Humans in general were foreign to him, he could never figure them out, just like himself, and maybe that's what made him so undeniably human, which the banker claimed he absolutely adored.
The banker said nothing for a long while, simply waited for Zandik to finish his tirade of endless insecure questions and subtle need for reassurance, occasionally he would push up his glasses or adjust a crooked ring he noticed. Before long, the Doctor seemed to have wore himself out, now staring with an almost expectant expression, Pantalone had no choice but to indulge, even if they both knew it was a little silly. "Zandik.." He started gently, as if he was talking to a child rather than the 2nd harbinger who your average citizen feared so much. "I'm sure you're well aware this is illogical thinking. I needed a vacation from my work. Not you, never you." He sighed, shaking his head as he stepped closer, the small height different between them becoming more prominent now that Pantalone stood over him.
The Doctor stayed silent, his expression becoming a mixture of sulky and sour. He hated when the banker was more logical than him, especially about something as trivial as his own insecurities, and he hated how weak he felt in the moment, worrying over a man who was nothing but both patient and gentle. "What if you stop wanting to be gentle with me?" He found himself asking, words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Suddenly he felt like a child again, outcast by his hometown and the akademiya, suddenly he was eight years old again, wondering why all the other kids found him weird or creepy, wondering why fate had been against him from the very beginning, and he couldn't stop more tears from slipping down his cheeks.
Unfortunately for him, and his stupid soft feelings, Pantalone was more of a gentleman than anything else the world could offer him. Gloved hands found his own scarred ones, laid bare for him to see, simply because he hadn't bothered to put them on this morning, too caught up within his own head. The action seemed to calm him down just enough for him to soften, any malice he held previously faded into subtle irritation and frustration at himself. The banker hummed thoughtfully at the change in demeanor, bringing Zandik's knuckled up to his lips to press kisses against the marred skin, a soothing balm against shaking nerves.
"Do tell me, my dear, whatever have I done to make you conspire these questions, hm?"
Dottore couldn't answer immediately, trying to get jumbled thoughts in order before he dared to speak again, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Pantalone figured he already knew why, it wasn't something he directly did, no, the Doctor was much too honest about things like that. This came from something purely mental, his own brain working against him in every emotional aspect possible, unsure of who it could trust to not leave him high and dry. "I'm scared of you leaving for good, once you ever notice that I'm too much." His words were quiet, almost a whisper, but the lab was silent enough the banker could hear every word and syllable clearly, he could hear the whine in his voice as he said it, like he hated the thought of a weakness like this. Pantalone couldn't help but soften significantly.
Gentle hands reached up, landing on the mask that covered the Doctor's face, and when they met no resistance, he gently peeled it off, setting it aside on a convenient nearby table, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty in front of him, all teary-eyed and flushed red with both frustration and embarrassment. "I've told you how beautiful you are, yes?"
Pantalone's words were met with a soft sigh, because yes, Dottore had listened to the other's tirades about how "utterly gorgeous" he was, even if he himself didn't really see it whenever he looked in the mirror. All he saw were the scars and something deeper and ugly under the surface of pale skin and crooked features. It was no surprise the Doctor was insecure, his nose was hooked, his cheeks were often sunken in because he never fed himself properly, bags fell under his eyes like luggage and his hair was usually an unruly mess, but Pantalone still looked at him like he personally hung the stars himself. It was odd to him, how easy the banker was to look at, while he himself grimaced at every reflection.
"Answer me." The demand was spoken in that same gentle tone, but the Doctor would never think twice about the underlying authority it held.
"Yes, you have.. many times." Zandik murmured, cheeks flushed under the attention, it was odd, how Regrator could make him feel so good about himself with a few simple words, even if it was a fleeting moment, he did cherish them, especially when he happened to be alone, missing a certain banker in the depths of his lab with nothing more to do than experiment or daydream, most of the time he chose the latter.
Pantalone seemed pleased with that answer, because he hummed, a hand moving to card through light blue locks before moving back down to the familiar pale face, his thumb rubbing over the bags under Dottore's eyes. "You look utterly exhausted, don't tell me you've also been lacking sleep." He scolded lightly, already beginning to walk the Doctor to his room, which was also conveniently right next to his lab— a very specific request made when Zandik first joined the fatui, simply to stay closer to his work, he had claimed.
Of course, Dottore made no sort of protest, he certainly knew better than to go against the banker when he was concerned about his health. He followed close behind, like a dog at it's owners feet, which was, ironically, fairly close to their dynamic, even if Dottore would never in a million years outright admit such a thing.
Before he knew it he was being stripped of his usual boots and coat, left in a pair of boxers and the usual dark blue button up that adorned his body under that fatui uniform. His back relaxed against the plush softness of the bed, head resting against the pillows as Pantalone sat by his side, familiar hands that were usually always gloved now bare for Zandik to look at, admiring the callouses and scars from the bankers past, scars he considered to be so beautiful and undeniably Pantalone. It wasn't long before those hands were running down his thighs, tracing a scar here and there, occasionally lips would press against bare skin as well, gentle, affectionate, intimate, though Dottore didn't dare to call it love, not yet, at least, he was much too scared to ever admit such a thing.
Those same hands that had wiped his tears just earlier now undressed his bottom half completely, leaving bare skin against satin sheets and his usual soft blanket he refused to sleep without. "I missed you, you know. Almost dreadfully so." Pantalone finally spoke again, his voice rougher with something akin to desire, but of course he still held that same elegance in his tone, it was basically a part of him now. Zandik simply hummed, a contented sigh leaving his throat at the feeling of lips against his inner thigh, not teasing, simply savoring the slow moment, gentle and full of care, like he was actually something fragile to handle, the thought alone almost made him start crying again.
It wasn't long until that head of black hair was between his thighs, savoring every taste like a man starved, his tongue always felt nice, gentle but with the right amount of pressure— Zandik remembered the first time they had done this, blissfully unaware of the pleasure something so simple could bring, soft, breathy moans left his lips every so often, his hand tangling into soft strands. Not to pull, never to pull (unless he had a death wish), simply something to hold onto, to ground him in the moment.
It wasn't long before he was getting more worked up, being alone for a week, no Pantalone to keep him company, snappy at every poor segment or assistant who even dared to look his way, his work going worse than usual.. Zandik needed a stress reliever badly, and Pantalone was always happy to serve, it seemed, not that Dottore would ever complain. Moans grew more frequent as the banker's tongue moved across his enlarged clit, occasionally sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, each motion only brought him closer to release. "You're always.. so good at that.." Zandik murmured, his voice breathless as he panted, using the back of his hand to cover his mouth after an embarrassingly loud moan, which he could've sworn he felt the other man smile about down there.
Pantalone shifted, the wet sensation of his tongue suddenly gone for a moment, and Dottore was about to look down before he felt two fingers press inside, a whimper being torn from his throat. This was new, the banker usually ate him out and that was that, he never considered him to be a very.. hands on man. He had a mouth that he claimed he put to good use, both for work and unrelated purposes. This was a new feeling entirely, Zandik had never really been sexually active before their relationship (if you could call it that), he never bothered with masturbation either, he just let his frustration fester until he took it out on some poor soul who usually worked under him. But now that he had this, he never wanted it to stop. Long fingers filled him up beautifully, he felt fulfilled almost, as they moved in and out, a gross squelching noise and louder moans filling the usual silence of Dottore's bedroom, his back arched off the bed.
It was a strange feeling at first, of course, it was new, but soon overwhelming pleasure filled every sense he had as those fingers skillfully thrusted into that spot, a cry wracking through his body. Pantalone was looming over him now, his lips still glistening with the wetness from before, watching every reaction the Doctor had to offer, relishing in every whine and moan he could get out of that pretty mouth. It wasn't long before Dottore was cumming, it never really was— considering how long he usually neglected his own sexual desires, but every time the banker found something more beautiful in his face, the way his mouth fell open, or how his eyes squeezed shut, or maybe it was the aftermath, when he was panting and trying to regain his full vision back, regardless, Pantalone found the Doctor absolutely beautiful.
Once Zandik was done constricting around fingers, the banker pulled his hand away, wiping the excess wetness on the other man's thigh before pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead, Dottore could barely make out the words "I'll be right back" before the warmth around him was gone, and he was left on the bed alone, only his soft panting filling the room, his legs still shaking from aftershocks.
It wasn't long before Pantalone returned, a warm, wet towel in hand as he deliberately began cleaning up the mess between Zandik's thighs, only pausing every so often when he twitched from overstimulation, in which he would kiss his knee and murmur soft praises under his breath. Oh how utterly loving he could be. "'Lone.." Dottore murmured after a while, watching the banker discard the towel into the dirty clothes hamper in the corner of his room, his eyes slightly misty and unfocused. He only spoke again when Pantalone turned, giving the Doctor his full attention. "I think I love you, but that thought scares me sometimes." His voice was drowsy now, Pantalone could tell he was saying things on impulse, even if he knew it all had meaning.
He simply hummed in response, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I know, my dear Doctor. Get some rest, we'll speak of this in the morning." He said gently, even if they both knew that conversation in the morning would never come, they could at least indulge in their pretend fantasy for a while longer. Zandik found himself drifting off the moment Pantalone slipped into bed with him, gentle arms wrapping around his waist to tug him closer. The scene was almost comical, two feared harbingers cuddled up in bed together, Pantalone didn't focus on the outside world, simply pressed one lingering kiss to the top of light blue locks.
"I love you, too."