#<- not explicitly but it is kinda homoromantic ngl

[extinctcorruption]

Doctho Drabble - Let me touch your scars in a room full of people (haha jk. unless?)

Doc arrives late to the get-together (Grian had called it a party but really, the “parties” that Grian throws are just big get-togethers with alcohol and music playing in the background complete with Mario Cart and Foosball). There’d still been work to do in the lab and Doc wasn’t the type to leave work unfinished. So he’s late to the get-together which is fine. He’s not exactly keen to be here anyway but Grian had nearly blown up his out-of-date phone with how many texts, audios, videos, and pictures he’d sent Doc to get him over here. He's already missed the Foosball tournament (which, again, Doc doesn't really care. He's tired and doing a friend a favour by being there is all.)

It’s mostly people he knows but he does spot a few unfamiliar faces when he steps into ZITS’s basement. False greets him as she walks past him (probably on her way to the bathroom, Doc guesses) and shoves a freshly opened beer bottle into his hands. He takes that as a sign to keep it and finds the nearest couch to sit on. He closes his eyes for a minute until he opens them again and surveys the room while sipping the beer.

Grian waves to him from a corner of the room. Doc waves back. Joel and Scott are with Grian as well as Ren and a chubby blonde man Doc can’t place. Cleo, Bdubs, and Cub are letting Scar chat their ears off about Star Wars and Gem and Pearl are sitting at the bar, drinking shots and giggling with each other. Hypno, xB, Jevin, and Wels have made a nest out of two two-seaters, squished together and chatting away in their own small bubble (Doc can smell the pot from where he’s sitting).

Across the room, Beef is telling Etho a story (or maybe spreading gossip?) which makes Etho devolve into several fits of giggles. Etho’s mask is tugged down under his chin (a rare sight), showing off his pointy canine teeth every every time he laughs. The scar on Etho’s face keeps tugging at the upper left part of his lip, quirking it up to constantly flash his gums to the world. Etho interrupts Beef and Doc watches the way Etho’s mouth forms around the words. Etho grins at Beef’s rebuttal and takes a swig of what Doc guesses to be vodka with orange juice (or maybe just plain orange juice).

“Hey Doc, buddy!” The cushion Doc is sitting on dips down and Doc has to catch his balance as Skizz sits down next to him. “Watcha looking at, huh?” He asks and slings an arm around Doc’s shoulder. Even sitting, Doc has to tilt his head a little to look Skizz in the face. It’s not often the case that people are taller than Doc and he wonders if this is what it’s like for Bdubs in every day life. “Not looking at anything in particular,” Doc answers Skizz’ question. “Nothin’ in particular?” Skizz repeats as he jostles Doc. “Wow, you must be really out of it then, if you’re this quiet. I’m not sure when you started drinking. You okay, buddy?” He actually sounds a little worried so Doc reassures him. “Nah I’m fine. This is my first beer. I’m just a little tired.” “Alright, if you say so.” Skizz pats Doc’s shoulder and gets up. “If you need anything, we’re here for you, yeah? You’re a brilliant guy, Doc.” Doc simply nods, a little unsure how to react to the emotional honesty and affection Skizz puts forth with ease. He looks down his nearly empty bottle, downs the rest, and makes his way over to the makeshift bar to get another beer from Impulse, who is playing bartender today.

Doc gives Gem and Pearl a nod and moves back to the main area. He lets his gaze sweep over his friends until he lands on Etho again, who, coincidentally, is looking in his direction. Their eyes meet and Etho smiles and waves him over. Doc carefully picks his way through the room, stepping over drinks and limbs. He almost knocks over Hypno’s Vodka-E which results in a “Woah, careful there Doc!” and others making space for him. Beef has disappeared to somewhere else, leaving space on the two-seater Etho is sat on. Doc can’t quite tell how far the sofa is away from him although he’s pretty sure it must be close. His hand hits the backrest earlier than he expects and he is left to awkwardly climb onto the sofa.

“Hey Doc!” Etho’s voice has the usual teasing lilt to it and his eyes crinkle as he smiles. Doc doesn’t even realise he’s staring at Etho’s mouth forming his name until he subconsciously reaches out to touch the scar just as Etho moves to pull up his mask. Doc quickly turns away, face heating up rapidly. “Sorry, sorry,” he stumbles over an apology, “I think I am more tired than I thought.” Etho stares at him, face unreadable and mask half-way pulled up. Doc can see his mouth open, then close. Doc fiddles with the label on his beer bottle, eye glancing from Etho’s face his own hands and then back. After what feels like the longest awkward silence Doc has ever experienced with one of his friends, Etho quietly clears his throat. Doc glances back at Etho who slowly pulls his mask back under his chin. “You can, uh…” He licks his lips and lets his gaze dance around the room until settling back on Doc. “If you want, I mean. You can touch.” A hesitant “yeah?” slips past Doc’s lips. Etho nods.

Doc pulls one leg up onto the couch so he can turn his body inward. The room around them quickly blurs into background noise as it leaves his field of vision and Doc once again reaches out to touch Etho’s face. He starts higher up this time. Right above Etho’s left eyebrow where the scar starts. It’s familiar territory in the sense that Doc sees it several times a week for hours on end in the lab. He’s never touched it, though. Never crossed that line before. Doc trails his fingers down the scar, through the split eyebrow but skipping Etho’s eye. Unlike Doc, who had his blind eye removed opting to wear prosthetics, Etho’s blind eye remains firmly in its socket. He refuses to get it removed even though it’s split down the middle and has gotten infected at least twice in the time Doc has known Etho.

The scar widens just under Etho’s eye. It’s pink and irregular which makes Doc think that it probably didn’t heal right but he doesn’t know for sure. He’s never asked what happened and Etho never told him. Etho holds his breath once Doc arrives at his upper lip. Doc catches Etho’s eye for consent and Etho nods, lips slightly pursed. Doc is irritated by the fact that he can’t get a read on Etho without him wearing his mask and he tells him so. Etho laughs in a short, surprised burst. The motion knocks Doc’s thumb partially into Etho’s mouth, catching on teeth. This close, Doc can see that Etho’s canine tooth is chipped, missing its tip and dragging a dent through its length. “Really?” Etho asks, surprise evident in his voice. Doc nods, simply staring at Etho’s mouth before deciding to drag his thumb further down the scar to where it ends just shy of Etho’s neck. He thumbs at it for half a second before pulling his hand away completely, moving it back to the beer bottle.

Etho pulls his mask up and shifts a little closer. “Can I?” he asks, hand hovering over Doc’s blind eye. Doc nods and Etho’s cold fingers feel the scars around Doc’s prosthetic.

A few years back, a younger and stupider version of Doc had decided to implant magnets around his blind eye so he could attach cool metal plating around it to make himself look more like a cyborg. He’d done it himself as well, which had ended up with a lot of blood, his body rejecting the foreign objects within a few weeks, and an awkward hospital trip in which he had to explain to both his friends and medical professionals what he had done. The failed self-augmentation, as his friends liked to call it, had left him with bumpy scars dotted around his eye socket which liked to itch during the times Doc was too busy to regularly put cream on them.

When Etho pulls back his hand, Doc turns his body to face the room again. He can’t think of another time anybody other than him had touched those scars this… intimately to say the least. He takes a sip of his beer and lets his eye flick around the room.

Beef is at the bar, chatting with Impulse and casually looking over his shoulder as if he’s waiting on something. Upon double-checking, he waves at Impulse and makes his way back over to Doc and Etho. Embarrassed, Doc shifts his gaze and lands on Scott instead, which is worse, because Scott is staring at him judgmentally from where he’s squished between Grian and Joel, the latter visibly upset about something.

Doc moves his focus to Etho again. Etho is setting his drink back on the couch table (Doc decides that it probably isn’t just orange juice) and Doc reaches out a hand and asks “Can I have some?” Etho nods. Beef steps within earshot just as Doc puts the glass to his lips and calls out a greeting. Doc nods toward Beef, takes a big sip of the drink, and promptly chokes on his mouthful. Somehow, he manages to swallow it all, letting the cinnamon burn his throat on the way down. “What the hell,” he manages between coughs as he sets the glass back down. “Why are you drinking fireball out of a glass, man?”

“Wait what?” Beef cuts in-front of Etho’s sly “I mean, why wouldn’t I?”

“Etho!” Beef scolds, “That’s your second glass! And you smoked with Hypno earlier!”

“I like getting crossfaded,” Etho defends himself while Doc is still coughing next to him, “And look, Doc is helping me drink the fireball.”

Beef shakes his head. “You are unbelievable, mister.”

Despite the attack on his taste buds, Doc laughs alongside Etho. He’s still tired but he decides that coming to the party may have been worth it.