“I love you too. Bring the good stuff, sweetie.”
“You got it. I’ll see you later.” I laugh and hang up the phone, then school my face when Bullseye and I meet eyes.
“What?” I snap, slamming my phone a bit harder on the table than necessary when I see Bullseye smiling at me with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I forgot how close you were with your mom. It’s cute. A lot of the guys don’t have parents, and if they do, they don’t talk to them. How’s your mom doing? Is she good?”
I rub a hand through my hair when I think about her invite for dinner. I’m thirty-years-old, and she hasn’t been with anyone since Dad. If that isn’t it, then it’s bad news. I’ll be honest, when it comes to Mom, I don’t deal with bad news well.
“I’ll find out tonight. Thanks for asking.” I slap my hand against the desk and give him a grin. “Now, what can I do for you, Bullseye?” I stand up and open the medicine cabinet, getting the necessary items for a physical. Everything I need is in my office, including an exam table. “You know the drill,” I tell him.
And in typical Bullseye fashion, he yanks off his shirt and pants until he’s in nothing but his birthday suit. Usually people strip down to their underwear.
But Bullseye doesn’t wear underwear, so when he strips, I get to see the entire man. Surprisingly, Bullseye doesn’t have a single tattoo, but he does have a Jacob’s Ladder on his cock, and every time I see the damn thing, mine shrivels inside me. His nipples are pierced along with the space between his ass and his sack.
Yeah, I didn’t ask to see that, but I did a prostate check, and I was shocked, to say the least.
He lays down, and I do my best not to be bothered by complete nudity. I am a doctor after all, but I think what bothers me about Bullseye is how impersonal he is to being naked. I hate being naked. I hate my scars. I don’t even let women wrap their arms around me while we fuck. Usually, I put them face down ass up so the chance of them touching me is slim to none. I panic. I hate… touch. I don’t mind being the one doing the touching. I don’t even mind hugs when the arms are around my neck.
But my back is a hard fucking limit.
The first thing I do, is examine his chest. Breast cancer is a serious disease for men too. It is more common in women, but it can happen in men as well. I do tiny circular motions around each peck with the pads of my fingers, making sure I don’t feel any lumps.
“It’s weird every time you do this. I feel like you’re feeling me up. At least buy me a drink, Doc,” Bullseye chuckles at his own joke.
“You’re not my type, sorry,” I joke in return. “Okay, your chest is good.” I take out my stethoscope and place the cold metal against his chest without warming it up.
He hisses like he does every time. “Doc! It’s cold.”
“You throw darts at people for a living. You can handle it,” I grumble, listening to the steady beat of his heart. These guys are the toughest men I know, but absolute bitches when it comes to certain things.
Like Tongue loves knives and anything sharp.
He hates the blood pressure cuff. I have to give him an anti-anxiety pill so he can relax or his blood pressure would be through the roof.
Also, don’t let Tool fool you. He hates needles even though the bastard is covered head to toe in tattoos.
“Your heart is good.” I lay the stethoscope on the exam table and grab a stress ball, then a blue rubber band, and tie it around his arm to get the vein nice and plump.
“I’ve been eating my Cheerios every morning to help lower my cholesterol.”
“Your cholesterol wasn’t high to begin with, but healthy changes are good changes.” I ease the needle in his vein and then grab a test tube, pushing it against the needle. Red liquid fills the tube, and I look at Bullseye’s face and narrow my eyes at him when I see him looking around the room and swinging his legs. “Out with it. What do you need to talk about?”
“It’s embarrassing.” His cheeks turn a shade of pink.
“Well, everything checks out down below. I don’t see any abnormalities. We still have to swab, like usual, but I think we will be fine. Unless you’ve been having unprotected sex? Bullseye, we’ve talked about that,” I sigh, pulling the test tube free, along with the needle.
“Can I get a cool band-aid? Like Star Wars or something? Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean the kids should get all the cool shit.”
Who doesn’t like a cool band-aid? “You got it, Bullseye.” I open up the cabinet and take out a few for him to pick from, along with a sucker, because I don’t care how old you are, patients love suckers.
I won’t give it to him now since he’s naked. It’s weird to give a man a lollipop when his cock is out. It’s a line I won’t cross. “Are you going to talk to me, or what?” I place the band-aid on his arm, shove the lollipop in my pocket, and grab the swab for his cock. I don’t know how he stands getting this Q-tip up his dick so many times throughout the year, but when you’re as sexually active as Bullseye, I’m glad he cares enough to get the full workup.
“Can we talk after you stick that thing in my pee-hole?”
I fucking hate it when they call it that. “Sure, Bullseye. Stand up.”
He stands, and I do my business. He doesn’t even flinch. I place the swab in the plastic tube as he puts on his jeans.
I take off my gloves, toss them in the biohazard bin, and lean back. Now I hand him the sucker. A smile blooms across his face, and I chuckle watching him unwrap it like a kid at Christmas. “Okay, you’re worrying me. It isn’t like you not to share something that isn’t personal. You’re nervous, and I’m starting to wonder if I need to be concerned.”
“I … I…”
I lean my head forward, waiting to hear what he has to say.
“Fuck, Doc. I… I haven’t been able to get an erection in the last two weeks. I’ve been … dizzy and losing chunks of my hair.” He turns around and shows me a few patches by lifting up the longer parts of his brown hair. There are a few bald spots. “I’m freaking out. Don’t get me wrong, I have a healthy sex life. I’ve fucked enough to cover the rest of my life, but losing my hair? Doc, that scares the shit out of me. I haven’t told anyone because I think they’ll make fun of me and blame it on sex. My hair falls out in clumps when I shower. I’m going to have to buzz it soon. I’m fucking terrified, Doc.”
This isn’t what I was expecting. I figured it was something shallow and conceited because it’s Bullseye, but he has tears swimming in his eyes. He waited too long to talk to me because now he’s thought the worst and is freaking out over an assumption.
“Okay, hey…” I lay my hand on his shoulder and look him in the eye. “We’ll figure this out; don’t panic. I know it’s easier said than done because this is out of the ordinary. I need to take more blood, and I have a lot of questions to ask you. First, I need to know if anything in your routine has changed? Is there something in the garage that is different, products, tools, anything with a chemical compound? Tell me everything from the time you wake up until the time you go to bed. Don’t leave any detail out. I know I’m your friend, but I’m your doctor; even if you think it’s embarrassing, I need to know.”