Dr. Infatuated

2.2

Late the next day...

It was lonely, almost agonizing, when Warren wasn't around. He ran himself in circles—quite literally—thinking about what he was up to. What was taking him so long to check in? He wondered if he dared to ask.

He alternated between streaming music and TV shows as the day droned on. The doctor had even left him some alcohol in the upstairs fridge to further keep him company, and he was grateful for it. The work-to-rest ratio was exhausting, but he followed the schedule laid out for him as asked; the thought didn't even occur to him to deviate from it.

Warren had instructed him after the fact to leave the electrodes on as much as possible, and he was happy to oblige. Between the amphetamines and the intense cardio-focused regimen, his heart rate rarely strayed below 110 BPM, and he hoped this would please the doctor.

A long set of jump squats had it hammering over 180 BPM. He held his hand to his chest while he caught his breath to feel the drumming beneath. Truthfully, Warren's fascination with his heart had sparked something similar in him, too.

His phone gave a jingle and he rushed over to it. Warren had texted him.

'I'll be there soon. I want that pump properly primed for the evening block. Take two of your pills.'

He signed off in the affirmative and wondered just how soon that might be. Eager to please, he crushed up two pills and sniffed them, then set himself up with a comfortable pace on the treadmill—enough to keep his heart rate up, but slow enough to reserve his energy for whatever the doctor had in store for him.

Before long, he heard Warren approaching.

"Evening, soldier."

"Sir."

Alec thought he looked markedly disheveled. He was holding himself strangely too, and he saw why when he finally joined him at the treadmill. It looked like someone had decked him straight in the eye.

"Have you been behaving?" Warren studied his ECG.

"Yes, sir. I also insufflated two tablets about ten minutes ago..." he trailed off, hesitated, but stepped off the belt. "Sir... you're—you're bruising pretty bad."

Warren forced a chuckle. "Oh, am I?" He looked himself over in a large mirror and tenderly padded at the purpling skin on his brow.

"I'm sorry if it's... not my place," Alec began carefully, "but I'm worried about you, sir."

Warren turned toward him again. His expression was intense. Bemused; masking pain. "The only thing you should be worried about is getting that heart rate back up. Very smart of you, by the way, choosing a faster route of administration. I like that."

Alec blushed and smiled, thoroughly placated by the praise. He started jogging again, and the steady beeping of his monitor grew faster.

"Finish your set, then come lay down for me."

Alec worked hard in the minutes following. He exerted himself beautifully. Even though Warren was busy tending something on his phone, he couldn't help glancing up at him every few seconds. When his test subject walked over to the exam table and offered himself, he let out a sigh of relief and tossed his phone in a drawer.

Warren added a blood pressure cuff and pulse oximeter to his monitoring implements, then equipped his stethoscope. He couldn't help but take note of Alec's excitement when he did so.