Chapter Text
Her eyes were like stars, not just their color, but the way the gold circled around its sphere, almost fluid, dynamic, aflame. They were as mesmerizing as starlight, and just as dangerous up close. They could set me on fire with just a look.
“Fraser? Jamie!” Dr. Beauchamp called.
“Hmphm?”
“Where were you just then? You look like you were floating off into space.”
I chuckled at her wee joke. We were, in fact, in space aboard the International Space Station, as evidenced by the current state of her hair. It had been tied back from her face, but the locks that escaped were floating around her head like sunbeams. “Apologies. My mind wandered a bit. What were ye saying?”
“A review of your medical record indicates you’ve been exceptionally healthy over the last three months. Your system adapted to microgravity with relative ease, and the only recent complaint noted is a decrease in libido.”
My ears felt hot, hating that she, of all people, was privy to that information. We’d spent a good amount of time together during training and mission prep back on Earth, and she'd had this overwhelming effect on me then too. The only thing that stood in my way of fucking the daylights out of her at the time was her erstwhile boyfriend, Frank fucking Randall. Thank God she chucked that bastard to the curb before joining me up here.
“Can you tell me more about it?” she asked. “Are you having difficulty producing an erection? Maintaining it? Reaching orgasm?”
“No.” I coughed involuntarily. “No. Nothing like that. Just…just lack of interest. It’s very unlike me to…weel…to not care to…”
“I see. And have you tried any interventions? The Russians supply their astronauts with dolls and pornography. And the French have plenty of toys to share. I’m sure I saw a fleshlight in the…”
“No. No, thank ye. As I said, it’s nothing. I just brought it up to Dr. Rawlings as it was unusual for me. He explained that space travel can affect blood flow, hormones, circadian rhythms, levels of stress, and such things.” The ISS physicians were primarily tasked with studying the effects of space on the body, amongst other research projects. It had been my duty to report it to him.
“But still, I’d hate to ignore it if it continues to bother you. It sounds as though you’re accustomed to being quite virile on Earth.” She couldn’t hide her smirk. “It may be that you’ll have to try a few different interventions to see similar results.”
“I…I appreciate the suggestion, but in truth, I’ve found my problems to be…em…alleviated in recent days.”
“Oh! Marvelous. Can you account for the change?”
I could. It coincided with the arrival of a far more attractive flight surgeon. I kept my eyes trained on a window overlooking a sea of stars as I answered. “Perhaps I’ve just acclimated.”
“Hmm.” She made a few notes on my chart. “While any change is good, it’s still only been a few days. We should do a quick physical and update your lab work. You haven't done any since you first arrived.”
“Really, I dinna think—”
“That wasn’t a request. Strip down and get on the table.”
She tossed me a towel in a way that spoke of her newness in space. It hit the ceiling, for lack of a better word, and lost its momentum. I reached out a long arm to retrieve it.
“Sorry,” she said.
“It’s alright. It takes time getting used to things up here.” Funny how I still thought of being in space as up here. There was no up or down in space.
I did as she asked and removed my clothes, knowing that avoiding her instructions would make her think I was either too embarrassed to talk about such things with her because she was a woman, or she might realize I was avoiding her because I was completely besotted. Either conclusion was unacceptable. I was a bloody astronaut, for God’s sake. I’d been required to strip down for dozens of physicians in my training. This was nothing out of the ordinary.
I maneuvered onto the examination table where I strapped myself down so I wouldn’t float away. I covered my cock with the towel she’d given me, tucking it beneath my arse on each side to keep it in place. I stared straight ahead, refusing to meet those breathtaking eyes.
She rubbed her hands together to warm them before putting on her gloves, and I couldn’t help the way my body quivered at the thought of them on my skin, even covered in latex.
“At face value, your muscle mass doesn’t appear to be too strongly affected by prolonged exposure to microgravity. You must be making good use of the exercise equipment and the LBNP.” The lower body negative pressure device was meant to apply vacuum-like suction below an astronaut’s waist to keep the circulatory system in near-Earth condition.
“Aye. I have.”
She checked my vitals, eyes, ears, and airways, then moved on to muscles and reflexes. I did all I could not stare directly at her breasts; they were even higher and rounder in space than they were on Earth.
She struggled with maneuvering and keeping herself grounded enough to complete her assessment. No amount of simulation can truly prepare someone for days on end of weightlessness. The human body just expects the force of the earth to come down at some point and anchor it in place.
“Use the footholds when ye can,” I suggested.
“Right.”
“Did ye get the space sickness?” It was common to suffer nausea and dizziness the first few days the vestibular system adjusted to microgravity.
“Unfortunately, yes. Still have the bloody headache to go with it.”
“I had the nausea for a week. Have ye slept at all?”
“Not well. A damn shame too. I was an excellent sleeper on Earth.”
“Give it a day or two, and ye’ll catch up.”
Her answering smile was completely disarming. Dear God, she was beautiful.
“Are you sure you’re not the doctor here, Fraser? Perhaps you should examine me when we’re through.”
“Hmphm.” There was nothing I would have liked better.
After finishing with my reflexes, she placed her hand on the edge of the towel that covered my cock. “You haven’t had any pelvic pain, have you?”
“No.”
“Increase in frequency of urination?”
“No.”
“Pain during urination?”
“No.”
“Good. I’m going to examine your testicles, then conduct a digital rectal exam.”
Jesus fucking hell. My cock jumped with excitement. “Aye.”
She pulled the towel aside to reveal the wee bastard growing uncontrollably. There was little to be done about it, and seeing as how she was a bloody professional, I pushed any self-consciousness I might have aside.
“Well then.” Her eyebrows raised, and she bit the inside of her cheek. “Obtaining an erection is clearly not a problem.”
I let off a wee smile. She was fucking impressed.
“You recall how space affects blood flow?” she asked. “On Earth, gravity pulls fluids downward, causing your blood to pool in your legs. Once you encounter microgravity, the blood moves up to your chest and head, increasing the size of your heart, making it pump more blood with each beat. Your kidneys respond by producing more urine, much like they do after you drink a large glass of water, and your pituitary gland secretes less antidiuretic hormone, which inhibits thirst. These factors combine to help rid your chest and head of the excess fluid.
“So, with penis this size—” her eyes widened to emphasize her point, “in both length and girth—it would take a good deal of blood to fill it and make it firm, blood you might need elsewhere in this physically taxing environment.”
She moved her hand to my balls, first cupping the whole sack, then rolling each testicle around between two fingers. It felt fucking nice, and my cock hardened further, pointing up toward my face.
She coughed and flushed, biting down on her bottom lip. “Everything feels normal here.”
She had me roll to my side to conduct the next exam. Her fingers grazed lightly over the area, checking for abnormalities. “Any pain or bleeding on this end?”
“No.”
She reached into a drawer and squeezed a small bit of lubricant into her hand. “Ready?”
There was no way to ready oneself for a gorgeous woman fingering one's prostate. “Aye.”
The grunt that escaped my throat at insertion was completely involuntary.
“Are you al—”
“I’m fine,” I said sharply. “Go on.”
As professional as she attempted to remain, my twitching cock couldn’t help but grab her attention. A flush ran up her neck, and she licked her lips more than once.
Her finger was just as pleasant slipping out as it was sliding in. “Everything seems fine there too.” She wiped me down, switched out her gloves, and left to retrieve her wee needle and vials for the bloodwork.
The towel meant to cover me was still floating around the room, and my cock and balls were trying to follow behind. Her eyes darted down and she caught a glimpse, making her flush a deep shade of red. She liked what she saw, and she was terrible at hiding it.
“You’re all set.” She handed me the towel and released the strap holding me down. “I’ll let you know about your results when you come by later to ride my CEVIS.”
“Pardon?”
“Cycle Ergometer with Vibration Isolate System. For exercise. I’d like to take your vitals in the process. The aRED too.” The advanced Resistive Exercise Device.
She watched with a dreamy look in her eyes as I retrieved my t-shirt and grey sweatpants.
“Ye should come by and watch us do some repairs on the panels tomorrow. Get a sense of what the rest of us do here.”
“Will you be going out there?” She nodded out the window with wide eyes.
“No. Grey and Claudel will be going out. I’ll be working the robotic arm.”
She looked down at the obvious bulge in my sweats and grinned. “No doubt you have extensive experience handling heavy equipment.”
I choked on a breath, then snorted foolishly for more air. The force propelled me back a few inches before the good doctor took my arm and patted me firmly on the back.
Our eyes met, smiling, full of promise and silent invitation.
“Dr. Beauchamp?” said a Frenchman at the door. The way he emphasized the French origins of her name immediately pissed me off.
“Hello, Mr. Claudel. You’re right on time.” She turned to me, eyes glittering like stars. “Goodbye, Jamie.”
“Claire.”
I pushed off the wall and floated past the bloody Frenchman on my way out. I grabbed him by the arm and mumbled in his ear. “Don’t even think about it, lad.”
“She’s yours then, Fraser?” he whispered. “Good thing she’s a physician. Perhaps she can remove the stick from your arse?”
He chuckled at his own joke and pushed off my chest to float into the exam room, sending me on my way out the door. The cocky wee bastard had already fucked nearly every astronaut to step foot in the space station. As fond as I was of the young man, I had no intention of letting him near my Dr. Beauchamp.