Kai Parker One Shots

The Doctor Is In

Dread coursed through your veins as you sat in a very uncomfortable gray plastic seat in the midst of a nearly empty gynecologist's office. The local news droned on in the background, volume low enough that you wouldn't have given the broadcast your attention anyway. A literature rack in the distance is chock full of pamphlets labeled with titles such as STDs vs Safe Sex, Pregnancy: Prepared? and Breastfeeding 101. The coffee table is littered with magazines like Us Weekly and People. A few abstract paintings and succulent plants give the sterile ivory room a pop of color. A middle aged woman sits across, too involved in whatever text her acrylic nails are clacking away at. Your own phone bares three new notifications, one of them being a reminder of the appointment you were currently getting out of the way. This was the last place you wanted to be, especially due to the fact your usual physician was snippy and inconsiderate and you'd requested a new one multiple times to no avail. What fun was having cold tools root around your private area? One thing was certain, no one alive in the universe could enjoy this. A cherry lollipop sits on your tastebuds, and though it may not be the most sanitary decision to eat it now rather than later, it does bring you some form of comfort.

Murky are the clouds hanging in the sky outside, expected as Seattle was often rainy. The weekend feels ages away as it's only Tuesday, and the overhead clock is ticking achingly slow. The wait to be seen is more stressful than the checkup itself, at least in your opinion. There had been a time you'd had to sulk in boredom for over an hour, and it had already been a hefty 20 minutes which felt ridiculous since there was a lack of patients. At the very least, the fact you didn't have to come here except once a year was the sole factor you hadn't rescheduled.

It's just then your name is read aloud by the receptionist, and after handing in your forms she gestures kindly down the hall. "Room 35C, he'll be with you shortly." Had you heard her correctly? He? They had listened after all, and most of your worries  dissipated immediately as you sauntered along the tiled floor until you arrived at your destination. Just as you had remembered, it was dreary.

Walls lined with posters of the female reproductive system and self-breast exam instructions. A set of double windows gave it a measly bit of natural light, save for the fluorescents overhead. Cupboards are stacked to the brim with antiseptics, swabs and paper towels, underneath a sink and bottle of liquid soap. A Macbook lies on a granite desktop off to the side, your information on screen. Articles of clothing are shed as you settle into an uncomfortable paper gown and lie back on the examination chair in wait. No matter how many times society tried to hammer it into your brain that these visits were normal, it felt alien especially as you were shier than most others when it came to your own body. Sex was not something you would partake in often, for you would not allow just any man access. In today's world, trust was nearly impossible and although whoever was about to come in was a professional doubts reigned supreme. A faint song on the radio could be heard through the ceiling's speakers, and it put you at ease as it was your favorite. "Your Man" by Joji.

The creak of the door nearly made you jump, and in he walked. All surroundings fade into a blur and the breath you'd drawn in catches in your throat. Wisps of sepia hair are coiffed stylishly atop his head, framing the most tantalizing azure eyes. Kind and yet also piercing through your soul as they meet your own for the very first time. Lab coat snug around his broad shoulders and sinewy biceps, he was truly out of a dream. "Good afternoon." Raspy and yet soft like honey, his voice was alluring. As the seconds passed, you wanted to know everything about him. Unlike every other failed attempt at requited love so far lied mystery; all the other males has been so commonplace. It wasn't quite that easy to guess what the difference was, maybe that he seemed overly confident. The corners of his mouth slid upwards as he sunk into the rolling stool, gathering a clipboard and a pen from one of the drawers nearby and turning attention firmly on you. "I hope you don't mind, I have a few questions before we begin the physical."