Little Shop of Homos
Kewl_Kid
Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Confusion
Summary:
Now (It's Just The Gas), but gay
I just want to add that I am so sorry for how gay this gets ESPECIALLY towards the end of the chapter. I am just so sorry. So just keep in mind that it is VERY homoerotic...
Chapter Text
Going to the dentist can be a scary experience for everyone. All the drills, wires and blood is enough to make even the strongest man squeamish. But the worry wobbling around in Seymour's gut was of a different nature.
He made a promise to Audrey. A promise to discover the sexual orientation of Orin Scrivello. And while he was never very good at following through on anything, Seymour was sure to make a valiant effort to uncover this mystery. But Audrey wasn't the only reason he came. Seymour wanted to know if Orin was a little tutti frutti for his own personal reasons.
He hated to admit it, but Seymour felt the beginning of a crush blossoming. He knew full well this was a bad idea. He knew he should stomp on that weed, ignore his feelings until they went away. But he was curious what would happen, how far he could go until he crossed a line.
He stopped in front of the door to Orin's office. It was made of wood. The white coat of paint was chipped from years of wear, like an old boat who had sailed on the sea for too long. The handle was metal, cold to the touch. Seymour's hand rested there, his clammy palm heating and moistening the metal. His bandaid covered fingers fidgeting, unsure if he should open it. There was a placard nailed onto the wood that read "Dr. Orin Scrivello D.D.S.", and through the glass pane above, he saw him.
Orin stood at his desk, a stern look on his face. He stared down at the paperwork beneath him, a pen in hand. He looked so professional in his dentist uniform. It was white as a bunny rabbit. Crisp and pristine. From where he stood, Seymour couldn't see a single stain or wrinkle. This surprised him. Seymour had never seen him without a leather jacket on, and he wasn't sure which look he preferred.
Despite being alone, Orin still seemed anxious. On edge. A loose strand of hair fell in front of his face. Orin cursed as he angrily raked his hand through it, forcing it out of the way.
Seymour was entranced by every little move he made. The way his right foot tapped impatiently against the linoleum floor, causing the rest of his leg to jitter. The way his brow furrowed and nose scrunched ever so slightly as if this paperwork was an annoying waste of time. And how he chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. His teeth rocking back and forth, side to side. It seemed to Seymour like an unconscious nervous habit Orin didn't even realise he had. He smiled at the thought. Seymour looked at Orin's hunched, tensed shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to walk in there and massage his muscles and--
Seymour shook his head. This was a bad idea. He should leave. He took one last look at Orin and his eyes wandered to his hands. What was he writing? What poetry was he painting on the page? As Orin wrote, Seymour watched his hand danced across the paper like a graceful swan spreading its wings, taking flight across the endless expanse of the ocean--
Orin looked up, glancing at the door. He saw someone was there, but didn't pay attention to who. "Next!" He called out as he looked back down at the paperwork.
"That'd be me, Dr. Scrivello," he nervously uttered.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"S-Seymour Krelborn. We met yesterday." He fidgeted with his hands.
He stopped writing. "Ah yes. The guy with the plant."
"Right," he nodded.
Orin placed down his pen. "And the bandaids."
"R-Right." He subconsciously touched the bandages on his fingers.
"And the attitude," he looked up, making eye contact with Seymour who quickly looked away. "Took me up on my offer?"
"Something like that..." Seymour cleared his throat. "A-About yesterday--"
"That wisdom tooth still giving ya trouble?" Orin asked, standing up. "I can take care of that for you, Krelborn."
"Oh, no. Well, yes," Seymour touched his cheek where Orin's hand had previously laid. "But it's not about that--"
"Hey," Orin said with a patronising tone. "Are you a little bit nervous about seeing the dentist?"
"No! No... I'm not nervous I--"
"It's only gonna hurt a little," Orin said calmly as he stalked his way towards Seymour like a lion ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.
"No you don't understand, I wanted to ask you--"
"Say 'ah'." He calmly commanded.
"You see, I wanted to ask if you were a little--"
"Say 'ah'!" Orin shouted, twisting Seymour's arm.
"AAAH!" Seymour yelled as the strength of Orin's grip forced him to the ground.
"It's still a mess. Did you even brush after our last chat?" He said teasingly, placing a hand on Seymour's head.
Seymour hoped Orin couldn't see the red blush creeping onto his face. "I-I did a little."
"Well clearly you didn't do enough. There's always time for dental hygiene, Krelborn." Orin stroked his hair, sending shivers down his spine and making his shoulder shake. Orin mistook that reaction for fear and chuckled. "It's okay to be afraid. I'll take good care of you."
He helped Seymour up, sitting him down on the dentist chair. "Have you ever seen the result of a neglected mouth?"
"N-No."
Orin showed him a photo, which was obviously a dog's mouth and not a human's. "This could happen to you."
"It could?" He exclaimed, worried.
"Unless I take immediate action!" Orin wheeled a tray of tools over to where Seymour sat.
"Wait, aren't you gonna give me any Novocaine?" He pleaded.
"What for? It'll dull the senses."
"It'll hurt!"
Orin looked at him with a smile that shouldn't have been comforting. "Only till you pass out."
He moved back to his desk and riffled through the draws until Seymour heard a clunk. He turned to see that Orin was brandishing a rusty old tool.
"Wh-What's that?"
"That's the drill, Krelborn." He held it up for Seymour to see.
"It's rusty," he argued.
"It's an antique," he said effectively as he stroked the tool. "They don't make instruments like these anymore. Heavy, sturdy," he looked Seymour in the eyes with a wicked grin. " Dull ."
Seymour gulped.
"This is gonna be a challenge. No," Orin placed his free hand on Seymour's shoulder. "This is going to be a pleasure." Orin removed it, much to Seymour's dismay. "I'm gonna want some gas for this one."
"Gas?"
"Nitrous oxide." He began to walk away.
"Oh, thank God," Seymour let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you weren't gonna use any."
Orin paused. He turned around and laughed. "Oh, Krelborn," he said sweetly, placing a hand on his cheek left. "The gas isn't for you. It's for me. You see, I really wanna enjoy this," his other hand cupped Seymour's other bare and blushing cheek. "And I find that a little giggle gas before I begin increases my pleasure enormously ."
Seymour nearly leaned in for a kiss.
"In fact," Orin removed both hands and turned away. "I think I'm going to use my special gas mask. Just relax, Krelborn. I'll be with you in a moment."
"Now. Ask him now. While he's gassing himself to a palpable stupor, the timing's ideal and the moment is super, to ready and fire and blow that sick question his away." Seymour sang as Orin's laugh echoed through the room.
"Now. Ask him now," he sang as he psyched himself up. "Just a simple suggestion, a small little question, and Audrey won't have to put up that pig for another day. " He sat tall, ready to ask.
"Now. For the girl. Now. For myself. Now. Yes, I will! " He sang with full confidence before slumping back into the chair. "But I can't! "
"Oh, Krelborn, I am flying now!" Orin exclaimed as he clambered his way back towards Seymour. "Oh the things we're gonna do to your mouth." Orin gently touched his hand to Seymour's face, carefully cupping his cheek. Seymour sighed softly, letting himself lean into the tender touch. His hand was surprisingly soft. Seymour closed his eyes, ready to dive deep into the ocean of his embrace. He reopened them, remembering it was just the gas making him do this. It didn't mean anything.
Seymour let out a shuddered gasp Orin's fingers slowly migrated across his face, settling on his lips. Seymour struggled to breathe. He felt like he had been submerged in the suffocating depths of the sea, and Orin was his only anchor. Orin's thumb rested under his chin and guided Seymour's face upward. As his head tilted to look at Orin, he realised just how helpless he was. As Orin's index and middle fingers ran along his lips, it dawned on him.
Shit, he thought. I have a crush on my best friend's abusive boyfriend. He needed to leave. But with Orin's fingers so sweetly caressing his lips, he felt moments away from melting completely. His tongue itched and squirmed in his mouth, wanting nothing more than to run his tongue along Orin's strong slender fingers. To taste them. To take them inside his mouth and memorise every sensation they had to offer. Orin's laugh snapped him out of his trance.
"Well, I guess I've had about enough of this stuff." Orin retracted his hands and brought them up to the back of his gasmask. "I'll just take the mask off and-" His hands pulled at the leather straps, but nothing happened. He chuckled, and made a second attempt. He sat there for a moment before trying again, fumbling and failing to free himself.
"Hey, hey Seymour," Orin slapped Seymour's arm a few times. "Guess what?"
"What?"
"It's stuck!" He laughed.
"What?!" Seymour froze as a tidal wave of fear washed over him.
"The mask, it's stuck. I can't get it off. Jesus Christ, I could asphyxiate in here." Orin fell to the floor with a painful laugh. "Hey, give me a hand here, will ya?"
"Yes, of course!" Seymour leapt up off the chair, scrambling to his feet. He bent down, trying to undo the straps. He couldn't tell whether it was actually stuck, or if he was too panicked. Either way, it wasn't budging.
"Hold on, Orin!" Seymour basically yelled as he stood up, looking for something sharp. Fortunately, there was a scalpel among the tray of tools. That did worry him a little, but he was more concerned about the dying man in front of him to be bothered with health and safety regulations. He kneeled down behind Orin. He held the scalpel in his shaking hand and cut through the leather. Seymour carefully took the mask off as Orin coughed.
"Phew," Orin sighed as he collapsed onto Seymour with a laugh on his lips. "That could have ended very differently."
"Yeah, no kidding," Seymour laughed as he propped himself up with one arm, and patted Orin's shoulder with the other. He blushed a little. He wasn't used to being this close to anyone, especially not the current object of his affections. Having Orin pressed against his chest after having saved his life was a lot for him to process.
Seymour looked at the broken mask on the floor and grimaced. "Hey, I'm sorry for ruining your special gas mask."
"Oh, it's fine. Better a broken mask than being dead..." He trailed off, the reality of the situation hitting him. "I could have died..." Orin uttered in the most serious tone of voice Seymour had ever heard.
A look of honest fear washed over Orin's face as sat up and turned towards Seymour, looking him softly in the eyes. "Thank you, Seymour. Truly." A smile of genuine gratitude laced its way onto his lips as one of his hands landed on Seymour's thigh. Orin gave his leg a comforting squeeze as his thumb sweetly stroked back and forth.
Seymour blushed at the way his name sounded slipping off his tongue. Like a tender trickle of sweet sap from a maple tree. He realised that was the first time Orin had said his first name. Seymour . He wanted nothing more than to gently place his hand on top of Orin's, and as their fingers intertwined, he would lean in for a--
He shook his head. He had a job to do. "I, uh... I've been meaning to ask," Seymour inhaled deeply, afraid to ask. "Are you, yunno... Gay?"
Orin froze, removing his hand and standing up. "No! Ew, God no. Why would you even ask that?"
"I-I dunno... It's just the way you were touching me yesterday. In the shop..." Seymour looked down at where Orin's hand had just been laid. "And just now."
"I was just examining your mouth in the shop! And now... Just now..." he paused to think of an explanation. "You don't think that meant anything, right?"
"Well..."
"Well? He says well?! Krelborn, I don't think you understand." Orin hovered over where Seymour sat. "Don't be fooled if I am grateful when I'm normally so hateful. I'm not gay."
"It's just a touch," he added defensively. "So don't let my hand deceive you, cause it doesn't mean that much. And though I get why you asked it, bear in mind I nearly passed it," he said, pointing at the discarded mask. "Why this whole thing seems so homo I don't know. Cause it's really a personal thing to know."
Seymour stood up and sang to himself. "What we have here is an ethical dilemma. If I insist he tells me that he's gay, then how does that appear? 'Less he thinks that I am too, which admittedly is true. Am I better off refraining from this dare? "
"Hey," Orin sang out.
"What we have here is a tricky moral problem." He continued his deliberation.
"I'm not gay," he insisted.
"Do I stop him in his tracks or let him tell me he is queer? "
"I'm not gay!"
"Couldn't ask him when I tried, but the fates are on my side. I can out the guy by staying in the chair! " He sang, sitting back comfortably in the chair.
"Don't be fooled if I should stroke you or touch you with a squeeze," he ran his hand along Seymour's arm. "I'm not gay. Just being nice. Just cause I was with a man once, doesn't mean it'll happen twice." He crescendoed in a panic, eyes widened as he realised what he said.
He pulled his hand back against his chest as if Seymour had burned it. "No, forget I ever said that, just pretend that we didn't chat. I swear to you that I don't swing that way."
Orin picked the scalpel off the floor and held it with a shaking clenched fist. "I'm so dumb! Why did I tell you? Don't say a word! They won't believe you..." He turns the scalpel towards Seymour before throwing it across the room. "Are you satisfied? I told you that I'm..."
"Gay?" Seymour muttered
"N-No. I'm not gay, I just..."
"Are you... bi?" Seymour asked hesitantly.
Orin slammed his fists on his desk, causing Seymour to jump. "I'M NOT ANYTHING!" He let out a sigh, and looked back at Seymour. "Stop trying to label me, Krelborn. I don't like men. What else matters?"
"Okay, okay. So... Y-You've... " Seymour averted his gaze. "B-Been with a man before?"
"I-I... Maybe once, back when I was- But I'm not that person anymore." Orin held up his rusty drill. "I'm definitely not telling you about it."
"O-Okay... " Seymour gulped. "S-So... What are you gonna do to me?"
Orin hummed thoughtfully as he stood behind Seymour, looming over him. "Well, normally I would make it so you could never talk again... " Orin placed his hand on Seymour's chest overtop his heart that was beating so fast he thought it would explode. Orin laughed, feeling Seymour's fear. His hand slowly slid up to Seymour's throat as he inhaled sharply. He shakily exhaled as Orin's hand tightened around him. He wasn't sure if his uneven breathing stemmed from his blocked airway or the fact all Orin's act of physical affection made him nervous.
"However," he said as he loosened his grip, but still kept the hand around his throat. "You did save my life..."
"O-O... Y-Yeah okay." Seymour choked out. Orin took away his hand, grabbing the drill.
"Let's keep this as..." Orin held the drill to Seymour's neck, "our little secret."
"Yeah, no sure. Yeah. Of course, yeah cool!" He nodded his head uncontrollably. "Yeah, yeah, yep. Mmhmm."
Orin stopped the nodding by securing his hand in Seymour's hair. Orin leaned in and whispered in his ear. "You promise, Krelborn?"
"Ye-Yeah, of course!" Every part Seymour's shivered and he was beyond grateful the back of the chair was separating their two bodies.
"Of course, what ?" He tightened his clench on Seymour's hair, yanking his head back as Orin hovered over him. A look of vicious joy filling his almost black eyes as he looked into Seymour's.
"O-Of course, Doctor," he said breathlessly, unable to steady himself. "Of course Doctor!"
"Good," Orin said, letting go. "That's better." He circled his way around the chair until he was facing Seymour.
"I'll drive you home, Krelborn," Orin pulled up his drill as a sadistic grin washed over his face. "But first, let me take care of you."