Work Text:
"Hey, do you have a moment?"
Even though he's picking through a mess of petri dishes and notebooks, Jiseok looks up, eyes glimmering in the warm light, slipping an earbud out. "Yeah, what's up?"
Seungmin just waves his detached arm. His right arm– disconnected right above his elbow, the prior stitching having torn while he was reaching for a cup.
A laugh bursts from Jiseok. "Damn, again? Sumi, it's the third time this week," he complains airly, rolling back his chair in a boyish push from his desk. When he stands, he stretches, spine cracking along the length of it. He's been at that desk for far too long today.
"I don't exactly try to pop them, yanno," Seungmin grumbles. This being the third time this week, he's already going through the routine– he leads himself to the examination chair, knocking it back so he can recline and present his arm comfortably. The rest of his arm he lays across his lap.
Jiseok's eyes are twinkling when he rolls up to his side, absently buttoning on his lab coat. "You're not just losing limbs to come see me?" he jibes.
Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You're saying that as if I don't live with you. I see you all the damn time."
"I don't knowww," he continues, sing-songy, "Kinda feels like you're vying for my attention. I'm so sorry, Sumi, but Agatha needs tender love and care–"
Agatha. The name he gave his godforsaken current experiment. If Seungmin rolls his eyes any harder they might get stuck.
"Yeah, I'm really jealous of a microbe," he deadpans, "So jealous I'd shatter dishware or fall down the stairs to get your attention off of it. C'mon, doc, gimme a diagnosis so you can get back to your beloved, since you miss her sooo much..."
Jiseok laughs but obeys, rolling closer to lean in and evaluate the rip. When he takes hold of his upper arm, he's gentle. Fingers ghosting over the soft skin. Doesn't press his fingers too deep. He just barely pulls at the skin, a brighter pink than usual, tender in the wake of the stitches being torn. Seungmin has to focus to not shiver.
"Shit, I might as well re-stitch all of you if they're all popping like this," he murmurs, gently tugging at the broken end of the thread. It's frayed, a tear made from age and use. Just like the other ones from this week.
"How long would that take?"
He hums, turning to dig through the mess of his tool tray to procure a suture needle and some black thread. He sticks his tongue out while trying to thread the needle. Cute. "For the major ones? Half a day, maybe. For everything? Two or three days."
"Damn." Coyly, he catches Jiseok's eyes, batting his eyelashes. "Got any spare time to pencil me in, doc? Or is Miss Agatha too important?"
Jiseok snorts. "Asshole." He drops the examination chair down a little bit further, reclining it to lay flat. From beneath the chair, he swings out a side-table extension, directing Seungmin on where to lay his arm.
It's quiet after that. Seungmin just focuses on his breathing, trying to keep still– he feels the tug of the needle where it dips in and out his skin, the thread as it moves through, the bright sting of it.
Jiseok is always careful with stitching. Quick. Neat. He doesn't make mistakes. Numbing salves don't work on Seungmin– he guesses it's the give-take of being reanimated– so Jiseok tries not to prolong surgery.
Not long after he starts, he asks Seungmin to sit up, finishing the stitches in the sensitive skin of his inner arm. Here, Seungmin takes a moment to watch Jiseok's face. There's bags under his eyes, but he's not unfocused. He wonders when the last time Jiseok ate was– he can get so wrapped up in his projects he just forgets to.
And like that, he's done. He wheels away to give Seungmin a quick glance over. "How's it feel?"
Seungmin flexes his hand. Each finger responds normally, if not a little slow– a common side effect of his nerves reconnecting– but everything seems just as responsive as normal.
"Funny enough, I think you turned it, just a tiny bit," he comments, bending his elbow and twisting his arm. It's a weird feeling to be aware of, that his hand is slightly misaligned– nothing unliveable, the difference being so miniscule, but it's enough that he notices it.
"Ah, fuck, my bad. Want me to redo it?"
"Nah, it's manageable. I'll get used to it."
Now that he can slip out of surgeon-mode, Jiseok groans outloud, overexaggerated. "Only if someone didn't lose their arm… Wouldn't haveta have their arm misaligned…" he teases, sweeping up his supplies to dispose them into his desk drawers.
"I'm really not ripping my limbs off on purpose," Seungmin grumbles, just to be petty.
Laughing, Jiseok hops up onto the table. "I know. If you started coming to me about your toes falling off, then I'd really be concerned I was neglecting you."
Seungmin sputters. "Neglecting–?" Of course, Jiseok's joking with him, but it does make Seungmin realize he's a little bit more transparent than he'd like. "Wow, is it such a crime to miss you?" he grouses. "Should I learn how to stitch myself up, then? Save you the trouble of it?"
Jiseok blinks. Blinks hard. Caught off guard. "W– What?"
"I can take care of all the small stuff," he shrugs. He inspects the stitches on two of his fingers. They'll have to be replaced sooner rather than later– he can see the slight fraying already. "Won't haveta bother you unless it's something I can't handle."
"What? No, I'll… Of course I'd still stitch your toes back on, Sumi, I was kidding–"
"No, no, I'll let you spend your quality time with Miss Agatha, I see where I stand," Seungmin dismisses, waving his hand. He slips off the exam chair, stretches his arms over his head. His fingers mash awkwardly when he tries to thread them together. The adjustment period is gonna be fun.
"Oh Seungmin," Jiseok whines. "C'mereee."
"Now you want me here, huh," he sighs dramatically. He steps close, closer. He's just out of reach– though, not out of reach of Jiseok's legs. Jiseok feebly hooks his feet around Seungmin, tugging him closer, directly into his space, narrow hips slipping in between his thighs. His legs close around him, pressing in slightly as a tease.
Jiseok looks up to him, eyes twinkling. "You missed me?" He prompts.
How annoying. He just wants to hear it again.
"...Yeah," he says on an exhales, a little raw. "Of course I did."
Jiseok's grin bleeds into a smile when Seungmin leans in to kiss him– a smile so big Seungmin's lips press against his teeth.
They joke about it, but maybe it has been a while. There's no rush to the kiss. Slow. Just savouring it. Jiseok follows Seungmin's lead, tilting his head to slot their lips together just right, his breaths warm in Seungmin's mouth.
Jiseok pulls back just a bit, still close enough their lips brush while he speaks. "I missed you, too."
"Get out of the lab more, then," Seungmin grumbles, tugging at his lab coat.
"I dunno, I kind of like when you try to act like you aren't looking for attention…"
Seungmin pinches hard at Jiseok's side, making him yelp. "Dick."
As retaliation, Jiseok's hand skirts around his throat, trailing along the stitched seam of his head. It's tender, will forever be tender, sensitive, and Seungmin shivers hard. Jiseok smiles into the kiss, slipping away to mouth along his jaw, nipping at his skin, finding the spots that hitch his breath and make him pull at Jiseok's shirt.
He makes his way to Seungmin's neck, right where his thumbs brushed over before. His tongue dips out of his mouth, trailing along Seungmin's jumping muscles. He's been pulling soft, pitchy noises from Seungmin with each ministration, but when he hovers over the stitches, Seungmin can't–
Seungmin gasps at the sensation, gasps as Jiseok dares to dig his teeth into his skin. "Jiseok," he moans. "Christ– Christ, Jiseok–"
Unrelenting, Jiseok continues to mouth at the seam of his neck, even as Seungmin writhes, his off hand bracing Seungmin's neck still as his other presses into his waist, fingers dancing along his side.
Writhing this much makes him remember that he's got hands of his own, one freshly reattached– Seungmin's hands slip down further Jiseok's body, pushing aside the labcoat to the hoodie Jiseok wears beneath it. Under the hoodie, Jiseok's stomach flutters when Seungmin trails his fingers along the skin, breath hitching as he dips further down to his sweats.
Jiseok's dick is already weeping when he pulls it from the band of his underwear. He's always so easy to work up. Reactive. He shudders when Seungmin encircles it, stroking slow and measured. He tries hard to keep Seungmin distracted, keep kissing at his throat, but he crumbles like a house of cards at each twist of Seungmin's hand.
"Ahh, Seungmin," he whines. "Fuck." He winds his arms over Seungmin's shoulders, rolling his hips. Desperately chasing the feeling.
"Guess I'm not the only one being 'neglected', huh?" Seungmin teases, though he's breathless enough it doesn't land as snappy as he wants it to.
Rolling his lip between his teeth, Jiseok elects to stay silent, biting back his whimpers. He trembles, shaking when Seungmin presses his thumb into the slit of his cock. He's so wet that the glide of Seungmin's hand is a completely fluid motion.
Seungmin pulls back to drop down on his knees. Jiseok's knees pull apart further to make room for his shoulders but press back in when Seungmin teasingly kisses at the soft inside of his leg, slowly working his way closer and closer.
When Seungmin finally takes Jiseok into his mouth, the two of them groan in tandem. He slides down, down, until he's got all of Jiseok in his throat. He stays there, for a moment, breathing and swallowing around him, adjusting.
Throwing his head back, Jiseok groans, loud and clear. His hips tremble under Seungmin's hands, trying to hold still as he swallows, breathing slow around his gag reflex, his fingers slip through Seungmin's hair, tugging sharply, like he's holding on for dear life. When Seungmin starts to bob his head, he starts rolling his hips again, almost subconsciously. He's so close.
Jiseok starts to push and pull at his head, and he lets him– he loosens his jaw, letting Jiseok take control. It's messy, Seungmin can barely breath as Jiseok thrusts shallow but fast, spit dripping down his chin.
"Shit, ha– shit," Jiseok moans, "S-Seungmin–!"
Something– rips.
Everything immediately stops. Full stop. Jiseok's dick slips from his mouth, and Seungmin feels something pull along the base of his throat, and–
Something falls to the floor. Heavy. Like a body slumping over.
Jiseok's silent, still. Seungmin finds that he can't look down, can't look up, can't move anything. The fingers Jiseok has in his hair pull harder now, but it doesn't quite feel purposeful. More like they're holding on to him.
"That," Seungmin starts, blinking hard. "That was my body, wasn't it?"
"Yep," Jiseok says. He starts to laugh, high and pitchy, raising Seungmin's head so that they can meet each other's eyes. His cheeks are flushed red, ruddy from how close he was and how embarrassed he is. "I shoulda gone ahead and restitched you before this, huh?"
Seungmin glances down. Not that he can see much. "It would've saved us some trouble."
Jiseok just laughs more. He then moves as if he's going to tuck himself back into his sweats, and Seungmin…
"Well…" he drawls. Jiseok stops, blinking at the playful tone Seungmin has. "You can either stitch me back up now and sit with blueballs while you do it," he pauses here, making direct, searing eye contact. He smiles, a little devious. "Or…"
Laughter bursts from Jiseok. "You're a freak, Oh Seungmin," he says, delighted. But he doesn't say no.