Archive of Our Own

“Whitaker!” Dr. Robby’s voice cut through the noise as he approached, slipping past nurses and wheelchairs and nosy patients. “Hey, how you feeling?”

“I’m good. I’m- Yeah, yeah, I’m feeling alright.” Whitaker unscrewed the top of a bottle of orange juice in his hand and took a large swig. “Why? What’s up?”

“Good to hear.” A solid hand on his shoulder jostled him slightly, and Robby squeezed his hand where it lay on the younger man’s trapezius. “I know Santos called in sick, and with you two living together… Don’t take this the wrong way, because I do care about your well-being, but I can’t afford to be down both of you. Do you have room at your place to keep your distance or…?”

“More or less, but I was planning on getting an Airbnb til she gets better just to be safe. Hopefully it’ll only be a couple nights.” He sighed and laughed softly, the noise tinged with a hint of frustration. “And by that I mean she insisted on putting me up in an Airbnb, and I’ll pay her back when I get the chance. Honestly, I was going to ask if, you know… I-I’d be fine just staying in a room in the empty wing for a couple of nights if you think- I just hate that she’s sick and having to put the money up front because of me, you know?” 

“You don’t need to be sleeping here, you need separation. Personal life and work life. You’re gonna drive yourself nuts if you’re here 24/7.” Whitaker only nodded, and Robby responded with another soft flexing of his fingertips, warm against Whitaker’s skin even though his scrub top. “Look, I have a guest room. If you want, I’d be more than happy to have you for a couple days.”

“Oh wow, Dr. Robby, I appreciate it. But I don’t want to impose.” 

“It wouldn’t be an imposition. Might be nice to have company, even. Only if you want.” 

“I, uh…” Robby squeezed his shoulder again, and Whitaker felt the butterflies in his stomach start to stir, fluttering against his insides and making him squirm and flush under the older man’s touch. His crush on Dr. Robby had been almost immediate upon their first meeting, and all of the touches and praise thrown his way had only fanned the flames of it. It had been a couple of weeks now, and Whitaker could swear those same strong hands and kind words were deliberately working their magic on him more frequently every shift. But it was entirely possible, and even likely, he reminded himself after each one, that he was simply seeing what he wanted to see. “Yeah. Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.”

“Great, I’ll just, uh-”

“Robby!” Dana’s voice rose over the rumble of the crowd, summoning Robby’s attention, and he looked over his shoulder toward where she stood several yards back at the nurse’s station. “Need your eyes on a fresh one, punched in the face. She’s a bit moody about the whole thing.”

“Understandably so. Be right there, Dana, just two seconds.” He turned back to Whitaker just as the blonde wiped the remnants of his last swig of juice from his lips onto the back of his hand. “I’ll text you my address. Whenever you’re packed and ready to come over just-”

Dana’s voice seemed to part the soundwaves of the crowd as she called out again. “Dr. Robinavitch, a moment of your time please!”

“Coming, Dana!” Robby nodded once more to Whitaker before he turned on his heel and was absorbed by the throng, leaving the younger man motionless until his phone chirped in his pocket with a text message. Putting his phone on silent at work was a habit that had yet to stick.

“You’re staying with Dr. Robby? Isn’t that, like… I dunno, fucking weird?”

“How’s it weird? What’s weird about it?” Santos was in her pajamas and shuffling around the apartment wrapped in a throw blanket, following Whitaker as he packed his overnight bag while trying to divert the conversation. “You really should be resting.”

“I’m bored. Just let me have this, alright? It’s still resting if I’m at home in my sweats.”

He opened up the medicine cabinet and grabbed his toothbrush and a couple of orange prescription bottles, shoving them into the front pocket of his bag before snapping the door shut and flipping the lightswitch off. “And it would be more restful if you were at home in bed. You…” He stopped, not that he had much choice, as Santos blocked the doorway of the bathroom into the hallway, and rolled his eyes. “Why am I telling you this? You know this. You’re a fucking doctor, Trinity, go to bed. Get some rest. Please.”

“Whatever…” She groaned loudly and rolled her eyes before turning around, and once she did, Whitaker allowed himself to smile, amused by her fidgety tantrum and knowing damn well it was due to exhaustion.

“Look, Trin, I’m saying this both as your friend and as a medical professional: You’re acting like a toddler.”

She came to an abrupt stop and spun around, glaring at Whitaker as he fought off the still-lingering smile on his lips. “Excuse me? I’m not-”

“You’re extremely tired, and you’re not able to effectively communicate it. In your case, because you’re full of Mucinex and snot and not thinking clearly. Go to bed. I’ll be fine.”

Santos’s bottom lip stuck out slightly in a pout before she huffed again and stomped out of the room. “It fucking sucks when you’re right.”

“How do you think I feel? You can’t stand it when I’m right, and I’m the one that catches the blowback for it.”

“Shut up. You love me.”

“Wouldn’t have you any other way.” They stood face to face at the front door as Whitaker tugged his backpack on. “My Uber will be here any minute, so I’m just gonna wait outside.”

“You sure you don’t want to just take my car? It’s not like I’ll need it.”

Despite his better judgment, Whitaker pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be walking distance from work. I won’t be using it either.” He stepped back and smiled at her again. “Focus on getting better, alright? Keep me updated?”

She laughed and pulled the blanket around herself tighter as she nodded toward the front door. “Okay, Dad, I will. But I’ll be fine.”

To say he was intimidated would be an understatement. Pittsburgh itself was still overwhelming at times, and Whitaker found himself considering taking Santos up on the Airbnb after all as he stood on the sidewalk in front of his attending’s house. Robby’s house was nice. Nice-nice. The landscaping was professional, a line of neatly trimmed shrubs and billowing, colorful flowerbeds lining the path from the sidewalk to the front steps of the brick, cottage-like, split-level structure. An expansive porch was peppered with more plants and furniture that was nicer than Whitaker’s indoor furniture back home, including a porch swing that reminded him of the one he’d take naps on at his grandparents’s home as a kid. He didn’t even realize how much time he’d spent admiring the exterior of the home until he heard the front door open. “You made it.”

Whitaker’s eyes turned toward the door, now propped open by Robby, who was standing in it under the glow of the porch light. He was in sweatpants and a worn t-shirt, a stark, warm contrast to how Whitaker had grown accustomed to seeing him, and it felt strangely intimate. They’d known one another less than a month, but how many others at the hospital, people who’d been working alongside him for months or years, had seen him in his natural state like this? He could feel himself staring, eyes scanning the older man up and down as Whitaker desperately tried to swallow against the nervous lump in his throat. “Yeah. It wasn’t too bad, I- I mean I took an Uber, so all I did was type in an address, so…”

“Get in here.” Robby stepped back enough to give him room, holding the door open and allowing the younger man a wide enough berth to slip inside, and Whitaker kicked his shoes off immediately before looking around. Even the foyer was immaculate, with burgundy wallpaper and elegant wood trim and a simple but classy light fixture dangling overhead and casting the space in a warm, welcoming glow.

“I really can’t thank you enough, Dr. Robby, this-”

“Please, we’re off the clock. Robby is fine. Or Michael.” 

“Okay, yeah.” He found his feet moving for him, carrying him off behind Robby as he was led further into the home. “Um, and Dennis is fine. Whitaker too, I guess, but…” His voice trailed off, skin prickling with some nervous shame and brain buzzing with worry that he was already wearing out his welcome with his anxious rambling.  “You’ve got a beautiful home.” 

“Thanks. Sort of dumb lucked my way into it right before COVID hit and affordable housing became pretty much impossible to find.”

“Yeah.” They stepped through an arched doorway into the hallway, and Dennis let his eyes dart back and forth, mapping out what lie behind the open doors as he followed Robby to the end of the stretch, feet padding gently on the runner laid out to protect the solid, warm-toned wood flooring beneath it. “Trinity saved my ass.” 

“Yeah?”

Dennis immediately kicked himself. It wasn’t a secret that he and Santos were roommates, but they’d let everyone choose to believe it wasn’t anything new. And they’d absolutely kept Dennis’s circumstances leading to their cohabitation quiet. The thought of being the subject of anyone’s sympathy made Dennis’s skin crawl, not to mention the fact that he’d been playing with fire in his squatting to begin with. “Yeah, she- I mean, it’s expensive. You know, just, like, getting by. And I don’t have much income since I’ve been focused on school and… It just worked out well, you know?”

“Absolutely.” They stopped at the end of the hallway, a large bookshelf directly in front of them and a closed door on either side. Robby opened the one nearest Dennis and pushed it open, letting the younger man step in ahead of him and following him before flipping on the light switch. “I went ahead and swapped out the sheets. There are a couple towels in the en suite, TV remote is on the nightstand and there’s a Post-it on it with the Wi-Fi password. If you need anything else I’m just across the hall.”

It was by far the nicest bedroom Dennis had ever seen. Even his parents's master bedroom back home wasn’t as large or even as fully furnished. The duvet draped over the queen sized bed was full and plush and looked almost brand new, as did the two large pillows at the head of it. There was a wall-mounted television above the dresser, another anomaly to the man who’d grown up with a single television in the living room and just his own laptop for entertainment in his bedroom. “I really can’t thank you enough for this. And you’re absolutely sure you don’t mind me being here?”

“I’m happy to have you here. Make yourself at home. Kitchen is down the hall and to your left, help yourself to whatever. You’re off tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Dennis sat his bag down on the bed and turned to Robby. His arms were stretched above his head as he slowly rolled his neck, and Dennis couldn’t have stopped his eyes if he’d tried as they automatically flitted downward and watched where Robby’s shirt pulled upward. The slight curvature of his belly peaked out from underneath the well-worn cotton, dark hair scattered across pale flesh, and Dennis’s own skin suddenly felt like it was on fire. His eyes shot back upward, and he was relieved to find he’d not been found out, as Robby’s were closed due to the scrunch of his face as he yawned, and God, Dennis loved that, too, and in the stagnant silence he seemed to only struggle more with keeping his eyes to himself. “Unless you need me to come in of course. I’m more than happy-”

Robby waved him off before clapping his palm on Dennis’s shoulder. Those large, strong hands somehow felt different in this setting. Maybe it was the way his thumb was idly tracing Dennis’s collarbone or how it seemed to linger, not dropping away quickly because he was too busy, too on the go. They had all the time in the world, and Dennis’s lungs felt void of air and his stomach full of knots that the older man would not only extend him such kindness, but that his very tactile communication was still in play even behind closed doors. “Absolutely not. Enjoy your days off while you can. You’ll miss them when you’re an attending.”

“You think I’ve got potential to be an attending?”

“I know you do.” That same hand squeezed his shoulder again before it was mirrored by its counterpart, and Dennis’s knees threatened to give when they gently rubbed his stiff shoulders for a couple of fleeting moments before falling back to Robby’s sides. “Get some rest, sleep in. Again, whatever’s around is up for grabs, but I am overdue to get some groceries, so it might be a bit sparse.”

“Yeah, for sure. Um, thank you again. Really.”

Robby was already back to the doorway, and he smiled, something soft and groggy, as his hand rested on the door handle. “Goodnight, Dennis.” With that he stepped out as the door clicked shut behind him. 

Before Robby’s hands had warmed him, before he’d heard his name float across the room on the low, sleep-ready timbre of his voice, Dennis had planned to go straight to bed. Instead he pulled a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from his bag and headed toward the bathroom for a shower. Cold.

Dennis woke to the sound of birdsong and the smell of coffee. He was nestled in the center of the bed, tangled in sheets and blankets and hugging the pillow not cradling his head. He wasn’t sure he’d ever slept so soundly. He certainly hadn’t had such deep, steady sleep in months. Once he rolled onto his back, he yawned and stretched, groaning as he woke his muscles and joints, and he allowed another peaceful moment to pass before tossing the sheets from himself to stand. If not for a warm beam of sunlight creeping in between the not-quite-closed slats of the blinds he wouldn’t have noticed it, but to his horror, Dennis saw the terrible evidence of just how well he’d slept: a damp spot on the sheets that matched the one on the front of his sweatpants. 

It’s not like Dennis had never had a wet dream. If anything their frequency had only been on the incline since moving in with Trinity. The guilt of getting himself off in someone else’s bed got Dennis too in his head, and he’d gone from taking care of himself before bed to waiting until he had the apartment to himself, hurrying his hand over himself and spilling into the toilet, the act structured and cold and almost chore-like even in his enjoyment and ensuing relief. Even the shower felt too invasive and intimate in a shared, platonic space, so he’d made do, even if it left him a bit more pent up then normal, and so the involuntary nighttime emissions became a recurring event. He stood up and quickly tossed the sheets in place in such a way so as to hide his shame, and he made his way to the bathroom with a change of pants. 

He opted for a quick shower, mostly to clean himself up. But once the washcloth hit his skin, the very dream that had gotten him into this position came back to him. He’d been in the shower -this shower- after a long shift. Robby had come in, saying something about needing some shampoo and sliding back the curtain. Dennis’s skin flushed, and the washcloth dropped from his hand as he closed his eyes and recalled it further. Robby stepping into the shower with him, saying he might as well join, the shower is already running. Dennis rested his palms on his stomach, mimicking Robby’s in his dream, and he could practically feel the breath in his ear and the whispered This okay? that breezed past it and along his skin. He whimpered out a soft ‘yes’ and let his hand slide lower, still replaying the memory of the older man’s hands on his body.

It wasn’t until he was fully hard that Dennis even realized what he was doing, and though the shame was there at the thought of leaving traces of his depravity on the walls of someone else’s shower, he was too far gone. Teeth sunk hard into his bottom lip, and his unoccupied hand clamped over his mouth to muffle desperate whimpering as he continued quickly sliding his other along his length. The embarrassment only compounded when less than a minute later he was gasping and cumming, shuddering as his release swirled down the drain. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” Suddenly Dennis was drowning, drenched by the spray of the shower as much as he was his own guilty, post-orgasmic clarity. His back pressed to the wall, and he let the steady rush of the water spattering on the shower floor fill his mind, a soothing white noise to try to quiet every accusation his own thoughts were hurling his way. It was one thing to dream and fall victim to his own subconscious, but intentionally using his mind and his hands to give in to his want felt different. Worse. “Fucking Christ…” Dennis continued murmuring his self-directed frustrations under his breath as he turned toward the tap and shut off the hot water. The temperature dropped quickly, and he let the spray get cold, waited til the guilt washed away under the chilly water and the obscene warmth vacated his skin, before finally shutting off the shower entirely and sliding the curtain back.

Once dried off and dressed, he stepped from the bathroom while ruffling his still-damp hair into place. Part of him wanted to stay in the room and wait til he heard the front door open and close as Robby left for work, but the thought of hiding away for hours or days on end somehow made him feel worse yet, so he tugged on a zip-up hoodie, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hallway. The warm, toasty scent of coffee was more prominent outside of the bedroom, as was the sound of music softly playing, both growing stronger the nearer Dennis got to the end of the hallway. He stepped into the kitchen, and it was, as expected, expansive and modern. A large marble-topped island sat in the middle, sounded by wide countertops and tall cabinets, punctuated by matching stainless steel appliances. 

Dennis hadn’t actually seen Robby head on, only his form in his periphery as he’d examined the kitchen, and he turned toward him, prepared to greet him and ask for a cup of coffee. Robby was leaned against the counter, a mug of steaming coffee in one hand and his phone in the other as he dragged his thumb along the screen. Dark-rimmed reading glasses sat perched on the bridge of his nose, and his hair was still mussed with sleep. Dennis’s eyes, much of their own volition, scanned lower, and suddenly he felt he was on the ledge of a building, stomach lurching as he stared down and imagined the thrill of the lethal fall in front of him. Instead of the casual loungewear he’d been in when Dennis arrived, Robby was in a well-worn, open robe, a deep navy color that matched both his house slippers and the boxer briefs he wore underneath it. He had tan lines on his legs, his shins a shade darker than the rest of his body, itself soft and pale and hirsute and visibly fit even under his smoothed-over edges and gently curved stomach. Somehow Dennis managed a breath, and he forced his gaze back upwards as the stagnant Good Morning on his tongue finally stumbled awkwardly past his lips on a quiet, cracked sound from the top of his throat. 

“Shit, Dennis, I am so sorry!” Robby’s phone clattered to the floor, and he sat his mug down heavily on the countertop. A bit of coffee sloshed over the edge, and he sopped it up with his robe as he tugged it around himself and tied it shut. “I completely just- I was so exhausted last night and wasn’t even thinking this morning that you’d-”

“No! No, it’s fine, I’m not- I’m sorry if anything, you’re- It’s your home, and I...” He wasn’t sure what he meant by it and let it trail off, hoping it would mean enough of whatever it was to get his point across, and quickly changed the subject. “Could I- Some coffee maybe?”

“Yeah, of course. Um, there’s a Keurig or you could have some from the pot here.” Robby busied himself with turning toward a nearby cabinet to retrieve a mug, using the opportunity to re-tighten the belt on his robe, and he turned back to the younger man to hand him the cup. “There’s 2% and oat milk in the fridge if you’re not a black coffee guy.”

Dennis’s hands were shaky as he took the cup. “Thanks. Yeah, I’ll uh- The Keurig sounds good. And I love oat milk. Never tried it til I moved in with Trin, but she swears by it for coffee, and she’s right.”

“How’s that work out? Telling Santos she’s right?”

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate, a delicate, iridescent bubble bursting at the sound of Dennis’s sudden amused laughter. “About as well as you’d expect.” He sat his mug in place under the coffee maker and began going through a bowl of K-Cups on the counter. “Do you have any decaf?”

“Decaf? At six in the morning? Uh, yeah, there should be a couple in there.” Robby walked up next to Dennis and peered into the bowl before cautiously reaching out to start examining its contents himself.

They silently sorted through them for a moment before their fingers brushed, and Dennis felt himself jolt slightly at the sensation, while silently praying that Robby didn’t notice. The silence was sudden and weighty, and Dennis cleared his throat, breaking it and buying himself a couple of seconds to come up with a more lasting solution to the empty, electric air that was now hovering like a thunderstorm about to break. “Yeah, I don’t really do caffeine much. I’m, uh- Medication. I shouldn’t have it with it.” His fingers plucked out one of the small cups and turned it over until he could read the label, mercifully labeled ‘decaf’. “I take Vyvanse. ADHD. I didn’t get diagnosed til I started med school, so the coffee was already a part of the routine by then, so I just switched to decaf. Typically don’t start caffeine til 8 or 9 hours in to try to sort of tilt the nose up before I crash.”  Dennis popped the cup into place in the machine and started it up, leaning back casually against the counter and looking up at Robby. “Stopped caffeine and cigarettes when I started it. I was a nightmare to be around there for a bit.”

“Well you’ve got the patience of a saint, I can tell you that much, so I’m sure even at your worst you were an angel comparatively.”

“Compared to what?”

“Me when I stopped smoking.” They shared a laugh, and Dennis found himself eyeing Robby again. Despite his better judgement, he kept looking, and his gaze shifted quickly from curious to studious. The lapels of Robby’s robe were falling gently apart again, and Dennis’s eyes traced the lines of them, dipping down to the root of the v-shape where it sat centered just below the older man’s sternum. His chest was fit and pale, with dark hair covering it starting just below his collarbones. Robby had struck Dennis as big from day one. His personality and impact and attitude, the role he plays, his voice when he enters and takes charge of a room were all so big that it was, oddly enough, easy for Dennis to forget that Robby, physically, was also on the imposing side. And perhaps it was because Dr. Robinavitch was not the man standing in front of him, that side of him tucked away until walking through the front doors of the PTMC, that Dennis was able to appreciate just how much of a man Robby truly was, tall and broad with wide palms and toned arms. Robby was, as Dennis’s mother would say, solid. He’d been staring for too long, he knew, and the sound of the older man gently clearing his throat informed him that it was not lost on either of them.

The coffee machine hummed and sputtered next to him, and Dennis moved his eyes from Robby to his now full coffee mug. He moved toward the refrigerator, keeping his face turned away to hide whatever poorly hidden tells his eyes or lips may give way to, and retrieved the carton of oat milk. “You, uh, you were a smoker? When’d you quit?”

“Oh God, 10, 12 years ago now? Gave that up, started jogging. Nothing crazy, just enough to keep myself too busy to want to smoke.”

“Did it work?”

“Fuck no.” He watched as Dennis topped off his mug with the milk, then reached toward him, gently pulling the carton from his hand as the younger man turned toward the fridge to return it. He splashed some in his own mug before taking it back to the fridge himself and topping off his mug with the remaining coffee in the carafe. “I still have to fight the urge. Hell, I still give into it sometimes. Once in a blue moon you’ll catch me having a smoke with Dana.” He shrugged and took a swig of his coffee. “But you only live once, you know? What’s a little vice between friends?”

Dennis was trying to keep himself occupied. He’d already spent some time with homework, but had stepped away to give his mind a rest, instead busying himself with washing the handful of dishes in the sink. From the time he was a child, his mother had instilled in him how to be a gracious guest. Cleaning up after yourself wasn’t enough, but going above and beyond showed gratitude and humility, two characteristics highly revered in the Whitaker home, with its modest window treatments and wood paneled walls and framed declaration of the Beatitudes in the kitchen that Dennis had memorized by the sixth grade just from staring at it during mealtimes. At friends’s homes growing up he’d always offer to help clear the table. He was quick to go out of his way to hold open doors and go grocery shopping for the elderly ladies at church. He’d even gotten into the habit of stripping the sheets at hotels, leaving them in a neat pile at the foot of the bed, next to his fully gathered bag of trash and a cash tip for the housekeeping staff. 

Dennis even completed his theology degree, for which the church had offered a small scholarship, despite finding his faith dissipating by his third semester, and the ease with which the church allowed him to leave after helping fund his education only served to fan the flames of his guilt. He often wished he’d been run out for any number of the things about himself that so many versions of the same Christ seemed to oppose, be it his affinity for craft beer or his homosexuality or even his reverence for science and medicine, a bridge too far in many of the denominations and churches he’d become so familiar with in his studies. But it was an amicable split, no frills or officialities, only a standing invite should he ever want to come back for a service or even just one of the monthly carry-in dinners in the recently added reception hall attached to the meetinghouse.

The doorbell startled him, and all Dennis could seem to do was freeze. It wasn’t his home, so answering the door seemed inappropriate, and he was certain he’d seen a Ring camera on his way in, so he figured Robby could manage it if he wasn’t busy. Curiosity got the better of him, however, and so Dennis made his way to the front door and took a quick look through the peephole just in time to see a young man walking off of the porch with a red DoorDash bag. Once the man pulled off, Dennis opened the door to find a Primanti’s bag sat neatly sealed just next to the welcome mat. He looked around again before tentatively picking up the bag and inspecting the attached receipt. As expected, Robby’s name and address were listed, so Dennis brought the bag inside and sat it on the island before pulling out his phone.

Did you mean to have this delivered to work? I can run it by real quick if you want.

He sent the text and snapped a quick picture of the bag to send along with it. A couple of moments passed before a response came back from Robby.

No. It’s yours. Consider it an apology lunch for my mishap this morning. Promise I’ll be more presentable for the remainder of your stay.

Nothing to apologize for. Probably not used to having people you barely know traipsing into your kitchen at 6 in the morning.

Dennis watched as Robby typed, the three ominous dots bobbing on the screen before disappearing, then back again, multiple times over before finally another message came through.

Shit happens. I’m happy to have you. I’m just a perpetually exhausted creature of habit. A couple of moments passed as Dennis tried to come up with a reply before another text came through. I just guessed. Hopefully pastrami and onion rings are in your wheelhouse.

Definitely. Thank you again!

No problem. Dennis smiled again at his phone and locked the screen before tucking it back in his pocket. Just as he picked the bag up to move toward the table, his phone buzzed again in his pocket, and he took it out to see another text from Robby. Be home by 7:30 🤞

Dennis put his phone away again and nodded as he began the process of convincing himself the flipping feeling in his stomach was hunger and not butterflies.

By the time Robby got home, Dennis had finished up not only the dishes and some mild straightening up but also the sweeping and vacuuming, as well as having remade the guest bed after washing the sheets. “Did you clean my house?”

“No! I mean, a little? I guess.” Dennis quickly stood up from the couch and followed the sound of Robby’s footsteps toward the kitchen. “I just wanted to help out a little. You know, you’re really doing me a solid letting me stay here, and you bought me lunch, and… I just really appreciate it. I want to make sure you know I appreciate it.”

“I know you do. You took care of yourself too, though? Homework and-”

“Yeah, of course.” 

Robby sat his bag down on the kitchen island before walking over to the fridge. “Beer?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead grabbing two bottles before shutting the door and handing them to Dennis. “Gonna grab a quick shower. In the meantime how about you find us something to watch.”

“What do you like?”

“Surprise me.”

Dennis busied himself going through various streaming services, not really sure where to begin. He was so focused that by the time Robby dropped down onto the sofa next to him he startled, nearly dropping the remote with a nervous huff of laughter. “You scared me.” He looked up just as Robby looked back, beer in hand as he twisted the cap off and tossed it onto the coffee table. His glasses were on and a couple water droplets hung from the ear pieces, remnants of the still-clinging dampness of his hair. The air between them smelt warm and fresh, some mix of cucumber and lemon and vaguely soap-y cleanliness and none of the strong, hyper-masculine smells that seemed to linger heavily in the aisles of the drugstore where all of the men’s care products were merchandised that stung Dennis’s nose. “Um, so, I personally really like horror movies, but I know that’s not everyone’s thing, so-”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Huh?”

“Your favorite movie. Horror or not.” He picked up the unopened bottle of beer and removed the cap before pressing it into Dennis’s now trembling hand. “Everyone’s got a favorite movie, right?”

“Yeah, I have a favorite, but it’s uh…” The only light came from the television, the curtains and blinds already pulled closed and blocking out whatever lingering light still bled over the horizon as dusk took its leave for the evening, and Dennis found himself praying that it was enough to mask the nervous sweat was beading at his hairline where his skin burned warm and red under the sudden anxiety of being put on the spot. Dennis had never been a particularly gifted bullshitter, and whatever abilities in white lying he had were inaccessible when Robby was looking at him like that. “You wouldn’t like it. It’s kind of niche. Um, nuanced arthouse type of stuff, I just-”

Robby tilted his head with a smirk. “Dennis Whitaker, are you calling my media literacy into question?”

“No! No, I wouldn’t dream of- It’s not like you wouldn’t get it, I just-” He stopped short and pulled in a much-needed lungful of air as Robby chuckled next to him, arm slinging over his shoulder just long enough to rattle his body back and forth good-naturedly. “It just struck a chord with me seeing it after, you know, moving here, getting out of my hometown, figuring myself out a little more.”

Robby brought his arm back and wrapped both of his palms around his beer bottle. “Nah, put it on. I insist.” They exchanged a look, and Dennis could swear the older man’s eyes were studying him, tracing the shape of his facial features, lingering momentarily on his mouth as he continued. “I wanna know what makes you tick.”

Dennis’s eyes mimicked Robby’s as they fell nervously to his mouth, along his jawline, counting the grays in his beard before climbing upward to map out every crease of his crow’s feet, every stray freckle and pockmark and curve that came together to form the visage of the most fascinating person Dennis had ever laid eyes on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His eyes going back to the screen seemed to break the spell, and they both took nervous swigs of their beer as Dennis navigated back through various apps until he found what he was looking for, hovering over the title.

“Swallowed?”

“It’s kind of a thriller, body horror sort of thing. Came out a couple years ago.” He pressed play and sat the remote down before nervously moving his now free hand to his own knee. Just as the movie started he turned quickly to Robby again, hurrying out his words, timed so that any response would involve interrupting the dialogue. “It’s a queer allegory.”

By the time the movie ended Dennis’s bottle was long since empty, but it remained wrapped between his palms, squeezing tight in an attempt to keep his breath steady and lingering tears at bay. Looking at anything but his own hands seemed impossible, but the uncertainty of where to focus his eyes was somehow preferable to the wretched silence between them. “That was something.”

“Sorry. Sorry, I just- I should’ve picked-”

“No, it was good. I enjoyed it.” Dennis could feel Robby’s eyes on him. He couldn’t avoid the man’s stare forever, would never dream of it, and finally he turned his head toward him. “I, um… So you, uh…”

“I-I’m gay.” They were quiet for a moment, and Dennis scrunched his face up, cursing himself under his breath as he thumped his empty beer bottle down onto the coffee table harder than he intended. His nape burned with a nervousness that hadn’t seemed to leave since he’d arrived as he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut before laughing nervously. “I don’t even know if that’s what you were going to ask.” Their eyes met again as he sat up straight and looked over at the man next to him. “I can still get a room somewhere. There’re hotels all over within a couple mile radius and-”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Whether it was his incredulous tone or the genuine, warm laughter that punctuated it Dennis couldn’t be sure, but Robby’s reaction -albeit unexpected- felt like a cool cloth on his forehead, a soothing, chilled weight on his flushed skin that seemed to flip a switch that left him suddenly loose and relaxed, even as his mind screamed at him that he wasn’t nearly panicked enough. “It’s not like you made me sit through Cats. Now that would’ve gotten you kicked out.”

“No, I mean, because-”

“Because you’re gay?” He laughed again, still without a twinge of condescension in his tone, and Dennis felt the ripples of it in his chest.

“I… I mean, I guess, yeah.”

“Did you tell Santos you’re gay before you moved in?”

“Well yeah. Of course I did.”

“Dennis…” Robby’s hands were large and heavy, soothing, and they seemed to fit perfectly on Dennis’s shoulders as he turned to face him, holding him in place with a gentle determination. “You being gay doesn’t have any negative effect on how I see you.”

“Thank you.” The sting of tears prickled the corners of his eyes, and Dennis nodded, swallowing hard and sucking in a deep breath, anything to distract himself from the kind words and touch that threatened to open the floodgates and leave him crying in gratitude and relief.

“Don’t thank me for that. That’s just the bare minimum amount of respect you should expect from people. I’m not doing you a favor by not being homophobic toward you, alright?”

“Yeah. Of course. I just… Thank you for saying it I guess.” A soft sniffle filled the silence between them, and Dennis nodded before finally offering a genuine smile. “Probably ought to get to bed, huh? We both have to be up early for work.”

“Good call.” Robby’s hands fell from Dennis’s shoulders as he stood, and Dennis followed suit, taking both of their empty bottles while Robby shut off the television and followed him to the kitchen.

“If you want to leave a little early I saw there’s a coffee place about a block over. It’s in the opposite direction, but not super far out of the way.”

The bottles thudded into the recycling bin as Dennis turned around to find Robby closer than he’d anticipated, the older man’s footfalls having been muffled in his socked feet. “That’d be nice.”

“And I’m buying. I insist.”

“Well if you insist.” The silence between them went on a moment too long, leading to nervous laughter, breathed out barely above a whisper like a ghost in the dimly lit kitchen. Robby’s palm came to rest on Dennis’s back between his shoulders, and he guided the two of them toward the hallway. “Work’s about a ten minute walk. If we’re out the door by 6:30 we should be good.”

“Sounds great.” They reached the end of the hallway and stood facing one another, backs to their respective rooms. “I’ll, uh, see you in the morning then.” Dennis nodded nervously, dipping his head to glance at his own feet. His socks were more worn than Robby’s. Thinner, too, as evidenced by the visible chipped, black nail polish on his toes showing through the threadbare fabric, the remnants of a pedicure Trinity had talked him into going to with her after sister had backed out last minute. He looked back up only to be met with Robby already smiling back at him, eyes heavy with sleep but no less expressive, even in the dull light, and Dennis sighed deeply, offering a soft upturn of his own lips in return. “Sleep well.”

“Sweet dreams.” With another gentle pat to his shoulder, Robby turned toward his room and disappeared into it, shutting the door quietly behind himself before Dennis did the same.

He pulled back the comforter and slipped under the sheets as he double and then triple checked the alarm on his phone, finally plugging it in and placing it facedown on the nightstand. Once he clicked the nightstand light off, Dennis pulled the covers up to his chin and allowed himself to relax, settling comfortably into the mattress and closing his eyes. Just as he felt himself about to drift off, his phone chirped with a text message, and he exhaled deeply before reaching over to retrieve it. It was from Robby, and he swiped his thumb, unlocking the screen and opening his messages to read it. Sorry again, for everything. I really did enjoy the movie. Guess I’m just a little rusty on being a good host.

Dennis wasn’t sure if he should reply. Maybe it was just a quick message meant to give Robby some peace of mind so he could fall asleep, and a response would only serve to keep him up longer. On the other hand, Dennis thought, maybe whatever reassurance he could offer was what Robby really wanted, so he tapped out a quick response. You’re a great host. I’m really happy to be here. Can’t thank you enough. He smiled to himself as he hit send before locking his screen again and setting the phone back down. But before his eyes were closed, another text came through, and even alone in the darkness Dennis found himself blushing at how quickly he snatched it back up to read the reply.

It’s the least I could do. You check in with Santos today?

Yeah, she’s doing well. Still has a slight fever but on the mend.

Good to hear. Once it’s down we’ll give it 24 hours and then she can have you back.

Any heat under his skin that had dissipated came roaring back as his thumbs hovered over the screen, and Dennis bit his lip as he mulled over a response. She’s probably enjoying the peace and quiet. At least I hope so. It was pulling teeth to get her to lie down and rest. If nothing else maybe she’ll be bored enough to just sleep herself well.

He stared, waiting, watching nervously as Robby typed out a response, the text bubble animation teasing him as it appeared and disappeared several times before the dam finally broke and a new message spilled forward. Peace and quiet, huh? You don’t seem like the type to get loud.

Dennis rolled onto his back and squeezed his eyes shut while mumbling to himself. “Jesus Christ, Dennis, get it together, he’s just making conversation”, Dennis assured himself. “Don’t read into it.” He rolled back onto his stomach and thought for a moment, typing and erasing multiple times before finally huffing out a defiant breath and hitting send, a quiet “Fuck it” on his lips as he did. I behave myself. Dennis waited, watching as again Robby typed and stopped two or three times before finally his phone went silent. He waited through seconds that felt like ages before setting the phone back on the nightstand with a defeated sigh. “Goddammit. I knew I should’ve-” A sudden knocking jolted him, and his ears adjusted as he heard the subtle squeal of the bedroom door easing open. He sat upright and squinted to find Robby standing in the doorway.

“Figured if we’re both still awake we could just, you know, talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Dennis scrambled to the foot of the bed and dropped his legs over it to sit on the edge, and Robby sat down next to him, their knees bumping together briefly as he settled in on the soft mattress. “Yeah, no, I’ve had loud roommates before, and I don’t wanna be that guy, so…”

“So you behave.”

They looked at one another, and Dennis smiled softly before letting his eyes fall back to the floor. Robby’s feet were firmly planted, still in the same cozy socks he’d been wearing when he’d retired to his own room, while Dennis’s hung, dangling a couple of inches from the floor as he swung them nervously back and forth. “I behave. I’m not in a position to be making any enemies. I… this is a fresh start sort of thing for me. Everyone I know and grew up with- you know, friends, family, whatever… They’re all 1,100 miles away. I mean, I like you guys, I wanna be here and be friends with everyone, but also, you know, I can’t afford not to, either.” He looked back up at Robby, whose elbows were resting on his own knees as he leaned forward and slightly into Dennis’s personal space, sending sparks through the younger man’s spine. “I’m just lucky you’re all… You know, I’m lucky. I’m really really lucky.”

“Do you get lonely?”

“Um, sometimes I guess. In… some ways. I’m happy, you know? I’m very socially fulfilled. I’ve got friends I’ve made in school and in prior rotations, and now everyone I’m getting to know through the pitt. But med school is busy. There’s not as much time for, you know, the stuff I had time for in undergrad.”

“Stuff? Like…” Robby waved his hand slightly, like he was trying to dredge up the words, uncovering what they were both thinking but neither had yet to say.

Finally Dennis broke the brief, loud silence. “You know. Dating and- and romantic connections. But I’m so busy, I don’t think I’d be able to give anyone the time they deserve.”

“You thinking about staying in emergency medicine? You’re excellent under pressure. The growth I’ve seen in just a couple weeks, the way you handled the PittFest incident…”

“I think so, yeah. It’s felt the most… right I guess. Nothing else has really felt as much like home.”

“It can be lonely.” Robby stretched and leaned back, propping himself up with his palms on the mattress and looking over to Dennis, who was still sitting upright, hands nervously wringing in his lap. “Long hours, high stress… You’ll start picking up on the interpersonal stuff if you’ve not already. Flirtation and dating and ‘are they aren’t they’ sort of energy from people. They say not to get your meat where you get your bread, but if half your life is spent getting your bread, picking something else up while you’re out sometimes is the easiest way to go.”

Dennis laughed, and he prayed it came off less nervous than it sounded. “Isn’t dating at work, like, an HR nightmare?”

“If you consider paperwork a nightmare, sure. And, you know, your coworkers knowing your business. And Myrna, somehow. I swear that woman has a sixth sense for interpersonal relationships and button-pushing.”

“I mean, she’s there just as much as the rest of us, if not more.”

“You’re not wrong.”

They laughed again, and Dennis finally felt himself relaxing, leaning back on his elbows to look more directly into the older man’s face. “So you’ve dated at work?”

“Couple times. Neither one worked out, but I’d like to think no one can tell and that everything’s stayed professional.”

His breath caught in his throat, and Dennis mentally scolded himself for the jolt of electricity that shot to his gut. Dating at work was one thing, but there was no way Robby would date a subordinate, much less a student. And surely not someone as nervous and timid as himself. Someone Robby barely knew and who was terrified to open up to him -to anyone- as evidenced by Dennis’s near panic-attack at coming out to him, as if he hadn’t shut the closet door behind himself at the beginning of med school. “Yeah, I, you know… I want it to happen. Eventually. But, you know, some things are better when they’re just sort of organic. I had Grindr downloaded for, like, five minutes when I first moved here and realized there was just no time for it.”

“So you’ve not… been with anyone? Since med school started?”

“Nope. Closest thing I’ve had to a hookup was learning how to perform prostate exams.” They laughed quietly, and Dennis shook his head before continuing. “No, I dated back home, though. Couple girls throughout high school. Obviously those didn’t stick. Then I went to divinity school for undergrad, and it turns out the closet was pretty full. Kind of an open secret thing that a lot of us were queer. A lot of the guys were there to try to… I don’t know, fix themselves. Most of us were just queer and felt called to it. But all of us were in the closet. Some were back in. Some, like me, had never come out to begin with. But we saw it in each other, and we bonded, and you know… hooked up. I was smart about it, though. I used protection and would get tested regularly and all that. I went to Creighton in Omaha, which was, like, a 30 minute city bus ride to Planned Parenthood, so I was able to go there without having to worry about my parents seeing anything on their EOBs.” He stopped and let his eyes fall to the mattress, nervous laughter spilling from his lips. “I’m oversharing. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not oversharing, you’re answering. I asked. Share as much as you want.” They were quiet again, and Robby shifted his weight, mirroring Dennis and dropping from his hands onto his elbows as he looked him in the eyes. “You’ll find someone. When the time’s right.”

“Yeah. And in the meantime it’s, you know…” Subconsciously, Dennis’s eyes moved to his own hand before looking back up at the man next to him. “Nothing I can’t manage on my own.”

“I mean, it sounds like you’ve mastered prostate exams. Hard to feel too lonely when, you know…” Their laughter was more sudden and bright and sincere than it had been, and both men sat upright, adjusting their bodies until they both sat hunched over, forearms in their own laps as it gently dissipated. “That was… really inappropriate, Jesus, I’m sorry. Lack of sleep must be interfering with my judgement.” They exchanged another soft smile before Robby stood up. “Which I guess is my cue to get back to bed. Sleep well, Dennis. Looking forward to that coffee in the morning.”

As he stepped toward the door, Dennis felt a lump forming in his throat, and suddenly his hand was moving before his brain, reaching forward, and he hooked his fingers around Robby’s, taking a gentle hold of them. They were warm and slightly calloused, with sharp, prominent knuckles jutting out underneath where the pad of Dennis’s thumb had come to rest. He was about to pull his hand back, gasping in a quick breath in preparation to exhale a hurried apology, when he felt gentle pressure back as Robby’s fingers closed around his own and squeezed, and suddenly he was moving back toward the bed and sitting down, fingers still intertwined where they came to rest on Dennis’s knee. A quiet moment passed, filled only with the sound of ragged, anxious breaths and Dennis’s own heartbeat, pounding so heavily in his chest he was certain everyone within a city block radius was hearing the metronomic thrumming of it too, until finally he forced his eyes upward. The moment they met Robby’s, the older man’s closed, and time seemed to slow to a crawl as the distance between them vanished and Dennis was feeling warm lips and rough facial hair against his mouth. Those same hands that had been grabbing him by the shoulders and neck and back for two weeks were now pressed to his face, holding him gently like something delicate and breakable, and God, to be broken by Michael Robinavitch would be to be made whole, Dennis was sure of it.

And so he kissed back, mouth and hands hungry and grasping, fists balled in the older man’s shirt as he pressed soft noises into his mouth with his tongue. Long, deft fingers snaked their way into his hair, and they flexed as Robby gently took hold of it and reluctantly pulled them apart, only just far enough to breathe out hurried words. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I don’t care.” Dennis leaned forward as best he could, his hair still in Robby’s tentative grasp, and nipped at the older man’s bottom lip with his teeth. “I mean, we can stop. Obviously. If you want to stop, we-”

“I don’t want to stop. That’s the problem.” A relieved laugh collided between them, both of them relaxing into the mutual understanding and desire between them before Robby leaned in again, tugging Dennis’s head back to expose the column of his throat to ravenous lips and tongue and teeth, biting and tasting his way along the younger man’s neck.

“Then don’t. Don’t stop. God, please, don’t stop.” Even when alone, Dennis kept quiet, and so the sound of desire within him stretched its limbs and came out of hibernation as he whined and begged aloud, whimpering softly at the feel of passionate lips and encouraging moans against his skin while he forced his body into action, straddling the brunette’s lap while reaching for the bottom hem of his own t-shirt. Robby noticed and helped peel away the offending fabric before making work of his own, discarding both to the floor just before feeling himself fall backward.

He knew about Dennis’s formative years, and he’d seen him work. The man was stronger than he looked, even as his bare torso came to hover over Robby’s own, muscles still hidden under soft, unassuming flesh. Robby leaned forward, dragging his tongue over one of Dennis’s nipples, while at the same time feeling heavy palms come to rest on his wrists, pinning them down against the bed and drawing a long, deep moan from deep in his belly. “Jesus Christ, Dennis…” His hips bucked upwards only to be met with the downward press of the younger man’s, making it immediately apparent that they were on the same page as they ground themselves together, the material of their remaining clothing doing little to stifle the press of their erections as their hips rolled in tandem. “Oh my God…”

“You okay?” Dennis leaned down and sunk his teeth into Robby’s collarbone, prominent and flushed, dark hair tickling his nose as he lapped and sucked at the flesh of it.

“Fucking beautiful.” Another long groan broke past his larynx as Dennis whined against his skin and continued the steady roll of his hips. “Wanna suck you off so fucking bad.”

“Shit… Yes. Please. Oh my God, yes please.” Dennis removed his hands, and both his and Robby’s seemed to race to his waistband, fingers fumbling as nervous giggles broke up the sound of heavy breathing.

“I’ve not done this before. So no promises on it being any good. But I need it. Need you.”

Dennis stood up and clumsily untangled the drawstring of his pants before finally loosening it enough to slide his sweats down. But once his thumbs were hooked under the elastic band he paused, tugging them down just far enough for his hip bones to peak out over the edge. “You’ve… received though, right? You know what you like?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve…” His hands came to rest on Dennis’s, and his eyes followed, watching hungrily as the younger man tugged the material down slowly.

“That’s half the battle then.”

“What’s the other half?”

“Gag reflex.” He swallowed hard and shoved his pants down, letting them pool at his feet as his cock sprung free, hard and already leaking at its tip with precum. “Just… relax and breathe through your nose.”

The look on Robby’s face was one Dennis could only associate with reverence as he slid from the bed to his knees and immediately leaned in to press his lips to Dennis’s thigh. As his mouth mapped out his skin, so, too, did his hands, grasping and squeezing the younger man’s hips and legs while gentle kisses were peppered across his pelvis. His lips wandered, exploring Dennis’s skin with feather-light kisses and soft breaths, before finally running gently up the length of his cock. When he stopped, Dennis’s tip was resting against Robby’s bottom lip, and he looked up hungrily, pleading, before his eyes fell closed and he tilted his head just so and dragged the flat of his tongue up the underside of Dennis’s length. Then he repeated it, using the tip of his tongue to trace a prominent vein along his shaft and moaning softly as Dennis gasped and whimpered above him, some beautiful melody Robby had heard before, just never in this key, and he was suddenly certain it was always meant to sound this way.

Dennis knew what being wanted felt like, even if only for a night at a time. The way Robby had so effortlessly found his place at his feet made it undeniable that there was a desire there that was finally spreading its wings; there was simply no way around Robby’s want for him. But fueling that want was something combustible and unfamiliar to Dennis, something soft and meek that made itself unimposing despite the enormity of its heart. Robby wanted him, that was clear, but Dennis’s stomach flipped as warm lips finally wrapped themselves around the head of his dick and he realized that Robby wanted him.

Robby’s tongue dragged along his slit, coaxing out a moan and weakening Dennis’s knees, and finally he dipped his head down, taking what he could into his mouth with a low groan. His mouth was warm and tongue eager as Robby set a slow, steady rhythm, slowly easing his head lower every few downward movements. “Fuck, that’s it. Oh god, you’re doing so good. U-use your hands, too.” Dennis cried out as Robby obliged, wrapping his hand around the base and moving it in time with his mouth, his own soft, pleased noises rumbling up his throat and through his tongue and vibrating against Dennis’s cock. Dennis’s palm came to rest on the back of Robby’s head, soft, mussed hair under his touch as Dennis’s fingertips drew small, grounding circles along his scalp. “That thing you did before with your tongue… the vein underneath it… do that again, but keep me in your mouth”.

A rumbling, eager “Mhmm” buzzed around his length as Robby hummed, his eager acquiescence quickly delivering as his tongue dragged slowly along the underside, just as Dennis had asked -all he had to do was ask- and his fingers’s movements slowed, palm returning to rest heavily on the back of the older man’s head.

“Can you go a little faster for me? Doesn’t have to be deeper, just fas- Fuck…” Again, Robby immediately responded with a grateful whimper, speeding up his mouth and hand in kind. “Holy shit. Oh my God, you’re amazing. So good at this.” When finally Dennis let his eyes fall to the man in front of him, Robby was already looking back. His pupils were blown wide, making his already dark eyes even more striking, and Dennis let out a long, beautiful noise, ushered up from his chest on a shaky oh shit, and his hips jerked forward involuntarily, causing Robby to gag slightly. But Dennis’s apology stuck in his throat as the older man took him deeper in response, easing more of him into his mouth with every quick bob of his head, until finally he dropped his hand and buried his nose in the thatch of hair at Dennis’s base. “Oh… Oh God, I’m close. I’m- Robby…”

“Hmm?”

The reverberation of the sound rang like an echo, creating a warm, encompassing feeling that shot from Dennis’s groin to his belly, and his muscles tensed as he gently tugged at Robby’s hair. “I’m close, I’m so fucking close. If you don’t want it down your throat, you’re gonna have to stop.”

Robby leaned back on his heels, gasping as his mouth was abruptly emptied and planting his palms firmly on the thighs of the man above him, staring up at him with equal parts need and adoration before sliding one hand upward to wrap tightly around the base of Dennis’s cock. “Where do you want to…?”

The newness of it wasn’t lost on Dennis -how could it be?- and his mouth fell open and closed, gaping uselessly like he was suffocating under the crashing waves of feeling that were rushing from the look on his attending’s face. Being wanted and being adored were both blessings Dennis had been privy to from separate people in separate lifetimes, but the simultaneity of them was something he somehow had never experienced, and it looked too much like something stronger. He gently shooed Robby’s hand away from himself, inadvertently sending it toward Robby’s own crotch, and Dennis wrapped his hand around himself, sliding urgently over his length as Robby ground himself against his own palm. “Your face. Is that… Are you okay with-”

“Yes. God yes.” He huffed out a soft laugh that quickly turned to a soft groan as he licked his lips and fished himself out of his own sweats. “I never would’ve thought I’d ever… Fuck, Dennis, there’s just something about you that I- Yeah, I want it on my face. Please.”

Dennis was trembling, adrenaline firing through his veins, triggered by what felt like a million different places in his brain, lit up and flickering like strobe lights, and he pressed the head of himself back to Robby’s lips. “Spit it on it for me.” And Robby obeyed, because of course he did, and Dennis’s eyes momentarily fluttered closed at the feel of it, his hand speeding up with the added slickness.

“Please…” His voice was like a freight train, a heavy rumbling that Dennis could feel beneath his feet, and he nodded shallowly. Robby lightly kissed the tip, precum smearing on his lips as he did, and choked out his next words. “Please, Doctor Whitaker.”

“Holy shit… I’m- Fuck! Oh God, I’m cumming…” Dennis’s words were choked and sputtered out on whatever remaining breath was in his lungs, and his eyes opened just in time to meet the older man’s as he spilled over his lips and tongue, his mouth open and waiting dutifully for Dennis’s release. The weakness in his legs made it easy to fall to his knees, and Dennis took Robby’s face in his hands before kissing him hard and sweeping his tongue into his mouth, lapping his own taste from Robby’s tongue. They parted with a simultaneous gasp, and Dennis swallowed as he pressed their foreheads together. “Can I help you finish, too?”

“Yes. Yes please.”

“With my mouth?”

“Not going to take much, but fuck yes, that… Please.” Robby pulled himself to his feet, a newborn foal learning its footing and how its heft balanced on its shaky legs. He felt new himself, reborn, as Dennis’s gentle hands took him by the hips and eased him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed as he settled between the older man’s knees and tugged the remainder of his clothing down and off. Those same hands moved to Robby’s own as Dennis expertly took him down his throat in a single motion, and they were brought up to the younger man’s hair to tangle in the sweat-matted curls there. His head moved quickly, and he grabbed Robby’s hips again, tugging him closer even as his nose was pressed into his pubic hair and his forehead pillowed gently by the swell of his stomach.

Dennis only mustered a soft “mhmm” as Robby took the hint, grabbing his hair more firmly and pressing his hips upward in quick, shallow bursts, cockhead jamming the back of his throat as Dennis hummed and swallowed around it, pushing Robby over the edge in a matter of moments with a near sob. Dennis swallowed eagerly, two, three times, as Robby trembled above him and his fingers went from tugging to combing delicately through the younger man’s hair as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. When he looked down, Dennis’s pupils were settling back into place, his eyes having been rolled back in pleasure at the taste and feel of having his throat so full, and Robby could feel the smile on his lips, still stretched around his softening cock, as their eyes met. Robby fell back onto one of his elbows but kept the other arm outstretched as he continued gently toying with the soft hairs at Dennis’s nape. And Dennis stayed there, dragging his fingernails lightly along Robby’s legs from his hips to his ankles and back again and sporadically sucking gently at the flaccid dick still resting heavily on his tongue. Every exhausted, affirming noise from Robby only spurred him on, sucking and moaning gently, pulling back just enough to trace the length of it with his tongue without letting it fall from his mouth. Once he felt Robby begin to twitch and throb again, Dennis finally removed his mouth only to dip his head and drag his tongue over Robby’s sac as he reached down to touch himself, already hard again. “This okay?”

“Jesus, yeah… I’m just sorry I’m not hard. I promise I’m enjoying it.” He gasped when Dennis’s free hand wrapped around his cock, and Dennis again took the head of it in his mouth before abruptly swallowing him down again and stilling his head as his tongue danced along his shaft. “You just like having it in your mouth, don’t you?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Like keeping it nice and warm for me?”

“Mhmm.” Dennis’s hand on himself sped up, tugging urgently at the sound of Robby’s soft, low words growled out from above and spilling over him like Holy water.

“Liked having you in my mouth too. So pretty and patient with me.” He shallowly pressed his hips forward, and Dennis mirrored it, fucking into his own hand as he felt Robby begin to swell again in his mouth. “Thank you for talking to me. Telling me how you like it. You like telling me what to do?”

“Mhmm.”

“I like you telling me what to do.” He gasped as Dennis’s pace picked up, bobbing his head hungrily as he throbbed and twitched, cock growing thick and full again as the younger man groaned and hollowed his cheeks. “Liked when you pinned me down. Liked when you- you came on me. Christ, I just want to give you everything… Give you control… Feels so fucking good…”

The warmth around him disappeared as Dennis pulled back with a sharp gasp and quickly replaced his mouth with his free hand, and he stroked them both quickly. “What feels good? Tell me what feels good.”

“Letting you have your way. Letting you be in charge. Telling me what to do. Telling me I… I make you feel good.” Finally he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows and groaning as he watched Dennis from under heavily-lidded, hungry eyes.

“You make me feel so good. The way you touch me and kiss me, and your mouth... Oh my God, your mouth. No one has ever blown me like that. No one’s ever even tried to make me feel as good as you do. You’re so good to me.”

“Dennis…”

“You’re so good. God, you’re so fucking good.” His thumb swiped over Robby’s slit, and he bucked up into it, gasping at the delectable near-overstimulation of the younger man’s touch. “You close again?”

“Fucking somehow, yeah.”

The warmth of Dennis’s mouth enveloped him again as he was suddenly taken back down the man’s throat for a few delicious moments before Dennis again wrapped a hand around him and jerked him more quickly. “I really want you to cum again. Can you do that for me?”

“I- I think so. Fuck, if you keep doing that, yeah…”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum again for me, Robby?”

“Yeah. Yes, fuck, yes.”

“That’s it. That’s right.” The head of his cock came to rest on Dennis lips as he continued working an expert hand over his length. “That’s my good boy.”

A shout tore from Robby’s throat, and he pressed his hips upward, burying himself again past Dennis’s lips as he came. It was near dry, his spent cock already joyfully struggling to keep up with the younger man’s seemingly insatiable libido, and what little release he offered spilled onto his tongue. Dennis’s lips closed around him again, searching out whatever Robby had left to give, before finally his mouth fell open and he followed, trembling as he cried out and came, soiling his discarded t-shirt where it lay on the floor beneath him.

Their breathing began to even out as Dennis dragged himself upward and collapsed onto the bed, and Robby pulled himself up the mattress, lying down and pulling Dennis onto his chest and into his arms. “At least the sheets stayed clean.”

Dennis barked out a sudden laugh and shook his head, dragging his forehead against the older man’s chest and pressing a short kiss to his sternum. “I already washed them today. I uh… Last night I slept pretty well. Dreamt well.”

“So you already had a practice run with me, huh?”

They shared another quiet laugh, and Dennis rested his hand on Robby’s chest, dragging his fingers along his skin and toying gently with the dark hair there. “Not really. I mean, it was you, but you…” He continued exploring, watching his own fingertips as they trailed along the older man’s curves and edges, mapping out his torso and hips and thighs under his touch. “You’re even more than I dreamed.”

Strong arms tightened around Dennis’s body as Robby held him close and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Well you are a dream. I’m going to wake up any minute now, I just know it.”

Dennis’s hand slid back to his middle, and he pinched playfully at the older man’s hip. “This is all real.”

“Thank God.” Another soft kiss found its way to Dennis’s lips, and they held it there for a moment, humming against one another’s kiss. “Not so sure Santos is getting you back after all.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so.”

“How about we start with nights when we have the next day off together. That way we can stay up late.” His eyebrows raised playfully, and Robby chuckled softly and nipped at his jawline with gentle teeth. “Don’t want to go in looking equally exhausted. What would everyone think? ‘Are they aren’t they’?”

Soft fingertips came to rest on Dennis’s neck, and they pressed softly, making him suddenly aware of the dull ache of a blooming bruise. “If we don’t go to the drug store and get you some kind of makeup to cover that up, we’ll find out as soon as 7am.”

It was hard to tell in the dim light whose blush was brighter, but the shared warmth between them was undeniable, fresh and hot on their skin where it pressed together with touches and kisses as Robby tugged at Dennis’s hips and rolled onto his back, pulling the smaller man on top of him to blanket his body. They let the silence wash over them, let the sound of cicada song and traffic flood the space around them as their lips met again, and they melted into one another, kissing one another breathless amongst lazily pulled up sheets and tired, tangled limbs. A minute passed, then five, then ten, and finally Dennis took a deep breath and spoke, his words floating up his throat on a soft, gruff laugh. “You’re trouble.”

“Better get me in line then.”

“Yes sir.”

Robby rolled him over then, letting his own body cage in the younger man’s before gently lowering himself onto his elbows to kiss gently along his jaw. “That’s my line.”

Dennis pulled the comforter up over them and smiled, letting his hands come to rest heavily on Robby’s lower back, and he whispered softly into his hair as the older man nuzzled into his neck. “Good boy.”