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Carter is on his last nerve.
If Peter thought graduating from med school would tone him down a notch, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, it seemed like Carter had only become more obtrusive and less thoughtful. Turns out M.D. doesn't stand for 'master of discipline'.
"Dr. Benton!"
Speak of the devil.
"I just admitted a woman with a lipoma, she’s gonna need surgery…" Carter hedges.
"A fat tumor? It can wait." He doesn't have time for this.
"Yeah, but she really wants it out today…" He can already tell Carter isn't going to let this go.
"Alright, well then book an OR, alright?" Anything to get him to shut up for just five minutes.
Carter hesitated in the doorway. "Can uh, can I assist? Please?" His face was nonchalant, but his eyes gave him away. He was desperate, impatient.
"Yeah, whatever. Just get out of here, alright?" Peter waved him away, confident that the surgical suite was booked for today and he wouldn't have to worry about this. Hell, maybe Carter would even be off shift by the time an OR's free.
Peter was wrong; Carter managed to swing an OR in under an hour. Hey, he earned this time, then. Maybe he behaves better for the nurses than he does for his resident.
He started talking his student through the initial incision, eying his bouncing feet and jittery hands warily, but ultimately placing his trust in his abilities. Peter taught him everything he knows, after all.
Before he can touch scalpel to skin, Dr. Anspaugh, the new chief of staff, waltzes in along with a handful of fellow senior surgeons.
"Saving the exotic cases for yourself, eh, Peter?" He ribs, good-naturedly.
Carter's eyes grow wide, and he shakes his head at Peter frantically.
"What are you talking about?" His eyes never leave the intern's.
"Heard you had a pheochromocytoma, we came to observe."
His nostrils flared, gaze burning a hole through Carter. Fucker didn't even have the decency to look guilty.
"No. I'm doing a lipoma removal."
"It's on the board, in big red letters. Who the hell put it up there?"
Carter keeps his eyes trained on the scalpel in his hands, and he even gives a little shrug.
What a brat. He doesn't get what he wants, so he lies and cheats to get it.
Benton kicks Carter out of the OR, fuming as he hastily tries to explain his student's, his responsibility's, actions as a lapse in judgment and not gross medical negligence.
Peter doesn't understand the disconnect with his student. Surgery is about discipline, expertise, and most importantly — patience.
It'll be a cold day in hell when Peter lets him back into the OR with as much reckless energy as he has. Part of him hoped he'd mellow out with age, but he only seems to get hungrier - and sloppier - with each new shift.
No amount of scutwork, ER covering, med surge, doubles, night shifts; nothing seemed to work. If anything, being told 'no' made him act out more, an insolent look on his face while he did it. Daring Peter to do something about it.
He catches Carter in the surgeon's locker room late at night, alone.
He looks up as Peter enters, but rolls his eyes and turns his back on him. Still angry about earlier, it seems. As if it weren't the consequences of his own actions.
"You know, it'd be really great to spend some time being a surgeon during my surgical residency." He huffs under his breath as he pulls his stethoscope out of his locker.
"Do you really think you deserve to assist in any procedures after the stunt you pulled today? You're lucky Anspaugh didn't terminate your residency on the spot."
"Can you blame me? It's been two months, and I haven't been given even an hour of operating time. Dale's been running his own appies for weeks, and Garcia's assisting in a double bypass right now!"
"Their residencies have nothing to do with you. Maybe if you weren't so focused on the schedules of your colleagues, you'd be able to assess your own performance."
"You know, I thought I would have a leg up here. Having spent the last TWO YEARS at County under you. I thought maybe that would mean something to you. Clearly, I was wrong; switching to your resident team was a mistake." He bit out.
He doesn't miss the jab at their less-than-professional relationship.
"Carter, what do you think being a surgeon is?"
That stops him in his tracks. "What?"
"What is a surgeon?" He repeats, calm and expectant.
"A doctor who performs surgery..? I don't understand."
"Surgery requires a physician to have dedication, skill, discipline, and patience. The latter of which, you sorely lack."
"Then why take me on as a resident at all, if you never planned on teaching me? If I'm such a lost cause?"
"Do you honestly think that you're in the right here? Being a brat, acting out whenever you're told 'no', that kind of behavior should let you run rampant throughout the surgical suite?"
Carter was silent. A flush running across his cheeks, eyes hard and defiant.
"Your performance reflects on me. I cannot have you tarnishing my reputation because you want to be a child."
Carter opens his mouth, indignation painting his features, but Benton cuts him off, "You need a lesson in patience. Delayed gratification. To understand that it feels good when your hard work pays off, that struggle can be rewarding."
He huffs, "Sure, if it means you'll finally let me be a real resident and not your scut puppy."
"On me, Carter." Peter turns and walks out of the locker room without looking back. He can hear his student scrambling to catch up.
This is going to be fun.
It was surprisingly easy to get Carter into his bed. Almost like he's been waiting for this moment for years. He's still too excitable for Peter's taste, though, rushing through the motions of getting his clothes off.
Carter pauses with his shirt over his head, "Aren't you gonna..?" He gestures to Peter, fully clothed.
Peter climbs onto the bed, settling himself against the headboard. "This is about teaching you a lesson, Carter, not sex." He pats his thigh, "Come here."
Carter eagerly yanks off his boxers and flops onto the bed between Peter's spread thighs.
He rolls his eyes, tugs the gangly boy into a sitting position, and presses a hand against his chest. "Lean back against me, that's right." Like this, his lips brush against the sensitive skin behind his ear when he speaks. Carter shivers, goosebumps spreading across his exposed skin.
Peter took a moment to breathe him in, letting his hands slide up and down the planes of his abdomen. He can feel each of the muscles in his stomach jump and twitch beneath his palms.
"Dr. Benton, come on," Carter whines, squirming against him.
Immediately, Peter pulls away. "Is that any way to ask for what you want?"
Carter huffed and let his head thunk against Peter's shoulder. "No, sir." He grumbled.
Interesting.
"I want you to pay attention to what I'm doing. Really catalogue what you're feeling. I want you to tell me what feels good and what doesn't. Do you understand?"
"Yes. Please, touch me?"
"Good boy, Carter. Asking for what you want." He brought his hands back up to his chest, petting over the smooth skin and downy hair there, noting the little whine that escaped him at the praise.
A few minutes pass of only gentle caressing, Peter feeling out his boy, not in a hurry to move anything along. He can feel Carter getting impatient; his hands balled into fists, thighs tense and squeezing together for any amount of friction he can steal.
"Tsk," Peter smacks the outside of Carter's thigh. "Naughty. Trying to touch without my permission." He uses both hands to pry Carter's legs apart and hooks his own over them to keep him from moving.
Carter whines, high in his throat.
Peter notes the wetness smeared across his inner thighs; he smirks.
"I want to take it slow, Carter," he lets his fingers trail up his inner thigh. Carter's breath hitches. "Can you do that for me?" He pauses just before he reaches his sopping center.
"Yes- yes, sir, I can." He nods frantically.
Peter lets the tip of his middle finger drag through the wetness pooling in his cunt, dragging it up his folds. He takes his time coating every inch of him in his slick.
"Tell me how it feels, Carter," he rumbles against the bolt of his jaw.
"Frustrating."
"You ever heard of foreplay before?" He teases.
"I'm a quick shot, usually I get a few orgasms out of a night. I don't like to wait."
He snorts, "Yeah, I noticed," and shoves two fingers inside of Carter.
"Ah—!" he cries out, hips bucking up into the feeling.
Peter withdraws his hand, admiring the way they glisten, "So needy, huh?"
Carter flushes and hides his face in Peter's neck.
"Don't hide from me, I like seeing what I do to you." He presses his sodden fingers to Carter's lips; he whines, but obediently sucks them into his mouth.
"Can you taste it? How desperate you are?"
He nods around the fingers in his mouth.
"Do you trust me?" He asks as his other hand pets along Carter's chest, idly toying with his nipples.
"Always."
"Then you will listen to me, and you will wait."
"Please please please, Dr. Benton, sir, please—"
Tears were streaming down Carter's face, his chest heaving, his hips jumping. He screams when Peter pulls away from his hole again.
Peter's hand is soaked, as are the sheets below them. They must've started at least a few hours ago, but Carter hadn't cum once; he was being such a good boy for Peter.
He coos and noses at his temple, "That's it, there's my good boy. One more for me, you can do it. I want one more, and then you can cum, I promise."
"You said that last time…" he hiccups.
"I know, I know, baby. I'm so mean to you, huh?" he patronizes. "You've been so good for me, yeah? Say it."
"So… so good. I'm your good boy," he babbles.
"That's right. And good boys do what they're told."
He swirls two of his fingers around Carter's over-sensitive clit harshly, and he lets out a shout, thighs trying to slam shut, but being held down by Peter's own.
"Oh God, oh God, I can't I can't I can't—"
"You will not cum, Carter," he commands.
He shuts his eyes tightly and turns into Peter's neck, seeking comfort there. "I'm trying, I swear, I'm trying—" he's cut off by a sob when Peter sinks three fingers into his hole, still not letting up on his clit.
"Wait, wait, I'm gonna—!"
Peter stops, but leaves his fingers deep inside him.
Carter's sobbing into his neck, body shaking as he calms down.
"Oh my sweet boy. You've done so well, been so patient. I think you deserve a treat now, yeah?" Peter coos and presses his lips to the top of Carter's head.
Carter whimpers in return, hole clenching rhythmically around Peter's nimble fingers. He starts to pull them out slowly, but Carter's hand shoots down to hold his wrist.
"No, no, you said—" his eyes are manic.
"Shhh, Carter, I know. I'll let you cum, I promise, I just want to switch things up a little, yeah?"
Carter begrudgingly lets Peter shift out from behind him. He makes sure to prop Carter up against the pillows comfortably before making a home for himself on his stomach between Carter's trembling thighs.
He takes a moment to assess his student. His chest rapidly rising and falling, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and mussed from his frequent tugging, his big brown eyes blown and fixed on Peter. He hasn't had this kind of rapt attention from him in months. Peter basks in it.
He smooths his palms up the insides of Carter's thighs and leans in to lick a long path up between his folds.
Carter lets out a low groan and lets his head fall back against the pillows.
Peter really takes his time, mapping every crease, fold, and sweet spot of his intern. He pays special attention to his cock as he slips his fingers back inside, drumming against the sensitive spot along his front wall.
"Oh God!" Carter moans, knees coming up to knock against Peter's shoulders.
Peter brings his spare hand up to press against Carter's lower stomach, stilling him as he continues to devour his cunt.
Carter stiffens and cries out, "W-wait, Dr Benton, sir, stop! It feels like—"
Peter doesn't stop. He redoubles his efforts, drilling into Carter's G-spot with surgical precision. His student can't stop the moans tumbling out of his mouth as his hands twist and claw at the sheets beneath him.
"C'mon, Carter, let go. That's it, you've earned it, baby," he coos before latching back onto his cock.
Carter's back arches off the bed, and he screams when he cums. It feels like it goes on forever as he squirts all down his mentor's chin, soaking his shirt. Peter, still pumping his fingers and suckling, draws out the orgasm for as long as possible. Each pulse of his cunt draws a fresh trickle of cum out of him.
Peter only slows to a stop when he hears a whimper above him. He looks up to see Carter, shaking all over with tears rolling down his cheeks. He leaves one last kiss on the quivering mess in front of him before slowly withdrawing his fingers and crawling up the bed to pull Carter over to lie on his chest.
He hiccups and weakly tries to push away, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess like that… I don't know what happened."
Peter chuckles and presses a kiss to his temple, "Carter, you did exactly what I asked you to. You waited and came only after I gave you permission, no matter how hard I pushed you. Squirting was just the icing on the cake."
"Oh." Carter doesn't seem to know what to do with that. He sniffles a bit and snuggles closer to Peter, who hauls one of his legs over his hips so the intern is lying on top of him.
Carter lets himself float in the hazy headspace he finds himself in now that he knows Peter isn't mad at him.
"You did so well for me, Carter," he murmurs as he runs his palms soothingly up and down his back.
"I'm so proud of you," paired with fingers toying with his hair.
"Such a good boy, taking your lesson so well," hummed between kisses to his crown.
Carter starts to come back to himself and pushes up on his elbows to look at Peter's face. "Hi." He smiles dopily down at him.
Peter lets a fond smile tilt his lips, "Hey, Carter. How're you feeling?"
"Not my legs, that's for sure," he laughs. "I don't think I've ever been turned on for that long, nor cum that hard."
"It felt good, didn't it? A well-earned release after such a long build-up?"
Carter flushes pink and darts his gaze to the side. "Actually, the orgasm was great and all, but I liked knowing that I was doing what you asked, the most. I liked knowing that I was making you proud… sir."
Peter feels his heart skip a beat, hearing how much his approval and affection mean to the young man in his bed and in his charge.
"You do make me proud, Carter. I'm hard on you because I know you can take it, I know you can be great." He looked deep into his eyes, willing him to take the words to heart.
There's that big, toothy grin Peter loves.
"Now, will you relax and trust that I'm doing what I know is best for you at County?"
Carter bites his lips into a line, dimples showing, eyebrows raised. "That depends… will you let me into the OR?"
Peter rolls his eyes and tugs him back down to his chest so he doesn't have to see his puppy eyes, "Don't push your luck, Carter."