Chapter Text
“- just hold your hand riiight here on your nape, and I always go down, like, super easy! Plus if you take my Sub-Pliment Plus pills it lowers your cortisol levels-”
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“Kneel and just breathe nice and even, in and out, and clear your mind-”
Skip.
“Here’s how to dom yourself out of a subdrop, but first a word from today’s sponsor-”
“Fucking, come on-”
Dennis’s phone dropped to the hospital floor from his shaky grip. It didn’t have long to drop, thankfully, but that was because Dennis was already slumped on his knees against a bare hospital bed frame.
The air smelled stale- it was clear Dennis was the first person to seek refuge here in a long time. It still smelled faintly of old bleach and artificial cherry handsoap. His bookbag leaned against the leg of the bed frame so he could rummage his hand inside for his hoodie. He didn’t care if he was cold, but he knew his knees would not be happy with him in the next couple of hours if he didn’t shove something under them.
His other hand was kneading his neck where youtube tutorials and Redditors swore there was a spot that helped keep a sub from dropping, but really it was probably the bruising grip that kept Dennis's mind from being swept away in the sharp cold of a drop.
He squeezed his eyes shut and took in a shaky breath.
He knew this wouldn’t work, but he needed it to work this time. More than when he was in Nebraska, more than when he was homeless, because otherwise Trinity and his friends and Jack and Robby would know. They would find him in this cold, dark room and realize how weak he was. There was no way they would let him continue his ER shifts if they found out his designation.
Salty iron and adrenaline painted his teeth and tongue where he bit his lip, swallowing a whimper down. He needed to stand up. He needed to get to his feet and go to the bus stop, because he told Trinity that he was just going to take the bus since he had something to do before heading back. He just needed to get his body to get with the program, because his limbs felt like they were made of lead.
His hand squeezed at the already raw skin of his neck again. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that it was someone else’s. Maybe he could pretend it was one of the two people he wishes were willing to take care of him. He let his mind wander to how he thought Robby or Jack’s domming style would be; Robby seemed like the kind to be sweet and soft, all gentle praise and a grounding hand on Dennis’s neck or shoulder. Yeah, that gentle rumbly voice? It’s like he was made to soothe a frazzled sub into that- supposedly- honeyed subspace. He hopes Jack still had that snarky charm that seemed to follow him everywhere like a yummy cologne. He would have a sub following him to the T. There’s no way they didn’t have a sub, that they didn’t have someone at home that would curl up between their legs or over their knee after a long hospital shift.
The cold dread plagued him down to his bones, the icy gnaw of panic and the buzzing of anxiety under his skin. His subspace never felt like people online said it did. Maybe something in Broken Bow chewed him up and spat him out, maybe he was just born like this. Maybe it was a punishment from God for straying.
Far off, down the hall, something whined, high and wobbly like a squeaky crash cart wheel. Like the sustained note of a flatline. Maybe it was something in Dennis giving out. What did he do to deserve this?
The sob scraped out of his throat painfully, choked and tight. He squeezed until his nails dug into the skin, his body falling forward until his forehead rested against the gritty linoleum. God, please just make it stop. There was no use now, the drop lapped at his brain like icy cold waves on a desolate beach. The idea of letting go of his abused neck felt like letting go of a liferaft, like maybe if he drew blood he could bloodlet whatever poison was slithering through his brain matter.
His body was drawn tight like a mousetrap, so when a warm hand gingerly touched his spine it snapped into action.
Startled and panicked, scrambling backward until he physically couldn’t, until his body collided with hard iron and a clattering screech of metal across the tile His arms fluttered like alarmed birds before settling in a defensive hold over his head.
“M’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry-” He could make out the words that dribbled from his mouth, expelled like vomit, over the ringing in his ears.
“Dennis.” Warm and weary, a familiar voice. In his limited field of vision, he saw scrub-clad knees and scarred, tan hands hovering by Dennis’s calves. Another wretched noise left him, reaching out one hand to clutch at the offered extremity, a lighthouse in the dark shores.
He felt his body be maneuvered to lay down, his head cushioned by warm scrubs and a hand gingerly petting over his sore neck. Petting the hairs- no, parting the hairs, slowly and methodically, surveying the damage Dennis no doubt did to his skin. He didn’t know when he started whimpering again until the hand migrated to his back, rubbing soothing circles into his cold body.
“the….come on, Den….iiiig breath, you can do it, sweetheart, you gotta breathe. It's really good for you.” Low and soothing, tense with something Dennis didn’t have the brain power to name as he drew in a shaky gasp. He wanted to be good, he wanted to be good so bad. “I know you do, baby, you are, can you be good for me and take another big breath?”
It took a couple of tries, but finally he inhaled enough to stretch out his lungs and whoosh it out again in a weepy sigh. Over and over, until Dennis’s vision wasn’t fuzzy with stars and black spots. Until he could see the legs his head was cushioned on, two sets of worn-in sneakers, one human ankle and one silver metal joint. Fuck.
“Fuck indeed, kid. Where’s Trinity? Can she take you home?” Jack asked, watching Dennis carefully as he sat up. His whole body fucking hurt.
“No, I- she’s on a date. I’m gonna get the bus home.” Dennis mumbled, looking around muzzily for his bookbag. “Dr. Abbot, I- please, you can’t tell anyone, I-”
“-Jack, Dennis, just call me Jack. Jesus, you just hardcore dropped in an abandoned hospital wing and want me to act like this is routine for you?” He asked, the veneer of snark thin over his worry. “This isn’t routine, right?”
“No, I’m- I can keep a lid on it here, today was just hard. I’ll go home, I won’t bother you-”
“Yeah, no. Dropping as hard as you did without a dom is exhausting on your...everything, frankly. Plus the chance of it reappearing the next morning. Unless you have some really good reasons why not, I’m taking you home to be monitored by me and Robby.”
Dennis really shot up then, ignoring the lights that spun lazily in the corners of his vision.
“No, no, that’s not necessary, Jack-”
Jack’s phone was already to his ear, looking at Dennis and holding up a finger, the audacity.
“Hey brother- I’m bringing home a doggy bag from the pitt….yeah, mousy, blue-eyed, issues with taking care of himself. Nasty drop in the abandoned 8th wing. Ia the guest room passible?....I’d appreciate it. We’ll be there soon. Love ya.”
“Jack!” Dennis called, dread giving way to exasperation as Jack took hold of his bag with a quick movement of his hand.
“You’ve yet to give me any reasons why you should stay here, Dennis. Come on, truck’s outside.”
“I’m not letting you take me home-!”
The inside of Jack and Robby's car smelled like leather and stale cigarettes in a way that made it cozy, somehow. The AC that gently blew on his face carried the scent of petrichor and wet asphalt lingering from the rain. The radio station softly played classic rock, and the dust on the top of the dial suggested it hasn’t been tuned into anything else in a long time. Dark and dimly lit by the light green of the console lights.
The rumble of the tires on the road vibrated through Dennis’s head where it rested against the glass of the passenger side window, watching the reflection of the street lights bleed into the rainwater on the road. Blissfully, Jack had let him sit in his silence, sensing Dennis wouldn’t be the best conversational partner at the moment.
The brownstone house made a cocktail of dread and relief churn in his stomach.
“Whelp, here she is! C’mon, Robby’s probably just watching TV, we won’t be intruding.” Jack chirped, turning the key to the ignition and stepping out. Being inside would be less weird than just begging to sleep out in the car instead, so Dennis gathered his bag and stepped out into the driveway.
He was careful to toe off his sneakers once he was inside- he knew real hardwood when he saw it, and the last thing he wanted to do was sully any part of their house.
True to Jack’s prediction, Robby was settled on the broken-in leather couch. His familiar green jacket slung over the arm of the sofa, wearing grey sweats and a band t-shirt that was probably older than Dennis was. He paused the TV as Jack came over, murmuring something and craning his neck up to kiss him. When his eyes found Dennis’s, they crinkled up in that smile that made Dennis’s heart do dangerous things.
“I think a stray followed you home, brother.” He chuckled, watching Jack walk into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, sir, I really meant to just go home.” Dennis offered weakly.
“Mm, it’s a Jack thing- you didn’t have a chance from the start. I was a stray too, but he domesticated me a long time ago.” He chuckled, smooth and rumbly (Dennis wanted to feel it with his ear pressed to Robby’s sternum.) “His heart’s too big, I think. He likes to take care of people.”
He’d seen Robby fond before, little glimpses during the shift handoff, but in his home is spilled out of his seams.
“Anyhow, Jack told me, ah, you had a bit of a hiccup at the hospital. You want to talk about that now or in the morning?” It wasn’t a question of if but when, and Robby’s tone left little room for argument.
“Um- in the morning? Please?” Dennis asked hesitantly. He’d been expecting an interrogation- who his dom was, if they needed to get HR involved, if Dennis needed intervention- and maybe it was still coming. At least tomorrow morning he will have a full night’s sleep. Robby nodded like he had picked the right answer.
“The guest bedroom is upstairs and to the left, end of the hall. Do you need a change of clothes?” God, the thought of wearing something belonging to the attendings made something in his belly squirm in delight.
"Oh! Ah, no, no I’m good, thank you though.” Dennis was quick to make his escape, padding up the old stairs and to the promised guest room. As soon as he closed the door and locked it behind him, he leaned his back against the wood and covered his face with his hands.
God, he was fucked.
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It was so warm.
It was one of the first thoughts that gently tore the veil of sleep from his mind.
He was curled up around a pillow, his face smushed between the pillow clutched to his chest and the one his head rested on, and covered in a thick duvet. The low groan he let out was borderline pornographic, sleepily nestling himself further into the cozy bedding around him before his body started making its demands known.
He needed to pee. And he could feel the godawful subdrop aftermath settling into his bones.
‘Lethargy, muscle soreness, trembling and shaking, abdominal discomfort, angina, feelings of loneliness and dread.’ Textbook Subdrop hangover.
Looking at his phone revealed a barrage of text notifications from Trinity, ranging from asking where he was, if he was getting home safely, to numerous texts asking why Jack had just texted Trinity letting her know he was staying the night at their place. After that it was just lewd remarks about “giving her all the details” when he got back that made him scoff.
(He did end up sending her texts telling her he was fine, well-rested, and no he did not sleep with his attendings, thank you very much, to which Trinity responded with a thumbs down reaction on the text bubble.)
Dennis slowly freed himself from the warm cocoon and padded over to the door. It took a moment of careful exploration, but he eventually found the bathroom. The guest bathroom was carefully impersonal, all deep green towels and white tiles. The unscented Dial soap and warm water running over his hands almost made him fall back asleep.
The sun was still tinted in that golden glow that suggested early morning. It was a habit he never really shook from his childhood of waking up before dawn. He loved how the light bathed everything in a gentler, warmer light- like a dream or a memory. He let himself linger in the hallway just a moment; he could see high school photos, what looked like framed pictures of Jack’s army days, Robby’s graduation, lined in well-loved wooden frames. Underneath the window was a small table with an antique stained-glass lamp on a lace doily that stood out from the rest of the decor. The air had that old house smell, musty in a way that tickled a memory of childhood, in a way that suggested this place was well loved and well lived in.
Dennis took one more long gaze before making his way downstairs quietly. His bag was slung over the banister rail, his shoes by the door- a quiet, clean getaway. He gently took the bag and slipped it over his shoulder, sliding his worn down sneakers over his heels and patting down the bag’s outer pockets for his keys-
Dennis paused and opened the front pocket.
Then the main pocket.
Double checked his sweatpants and swore under his breath.
Where were his house keys?
“Looking for these?” Dennis jolted at the sleep-rough timber accompanied by the metallic jangle of Dennis’s keys. Robby looked at him in gentle amusement, holding them from his spot in the living room doorway. Wearing his glasses, a graphic t-shirt and sleep pants, with a worn coffee mug in his other hand, deliciously rumpled and warm looking.
“Oh, yeah- yes, thank you sir, um, I’ll just grab those and be out of your hair.” Dennis tripped over his words, walking up to Robby with his hand out expectantly only for Robby to tuck them into the pocket of his pajamas.
“Nope. Go ahead and toe off your shoes by the door. I’ve got shitty coffee in the kitchen and a plate of food with your name on it.” Easy as breathing, like this was their routine. Like any of this was normal. Dennis just stared at him, mouth slightly agape, until Robby raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you’d catch flies doing that?”
It kicked his body into gear, reluctantly setting down his bag and toeing off his shoes to sit neatly next to the front door. He followed Robby deeper into the belly of the house, feeling like a prey animal crawling into a predator’s den. Robby didn’t even check to see if he was following him, like he knew Dennis would follow at his heel. So much for a clean getaway.
Dennis seated himself at the island, watching Robby pour a cup of coffee for him and sliding it to him. “Any cream or sugar?”
“Uh, half and half? If you have it?” Dennis asked tentatively. Robby snorted and reached for the fridge.
“Yeah, Jack’s the same. Can’t stand the stuff in my coffee, it tastes like cheese.”
“You lack the refined palette to enjoy the simple things in life, Robinavitch.” Dennis jumped for the second time today as Jack closed the door to what looked to be the sunroom, one arm using a forearm crutch to get by and the other handing Robby his mug wordlessly for him to fill. And he was shirtless. Lord help him. “How are you feeling, kid? Subdrops can take a lot out of you.”
“Good! Good, sir, really, I can’t thank you enough.” Robby poured a well-practiced dollop of half and half into the mug and handed it back to Jack, who murmured a thanks before sitting down.
“Good. So!-” Jack patted his knee with one hand. “-what can we do so that I never find you violently dropping in my ER again- well, Dana’s ER, but still.”
Dennis wonders if this was how deer felt facing his headlights on those backcountry roads.
“I have a dom I’m in contact with, I’ve just been busy with the ER and staying on top of things, that’s all.” Dennis replied, tracing his thumb along the worn handle of his coffee mug. “I can reach out in a couple of days, but I should be good until then.”
“You wanna try that again?” Jack asked, his chipper tone betrayed by the way his eyes seemed to pin Dennis to his chair.
“I-um, sorry?”
“Oh, I only meant if you wanted to tell me the truth this time.”
Dennis felt his stomach turn cold. How did he know? When he tried to look at the other attending, Robby reached up and rubbed the back of his neck in a way that made eye contact difficult.
“I am telling the truth.” Dennis replied firmly, looking Jack in the eyes despite how it made him want to shrink into himself.
“Mmm. I think we would have heard something from Santos if that was true. Plus,” he chose to pause, taking a leisurely sip from his coffee before continuing. “-this is really good Robby- plus, you talk smoother when you’re lying. Practiced. So, I want to give you the chance to tell me the truth.” He said it so simply, like he was talking about the weather. Like this conversation wasn’t making Dennis feel flayed open.
“I just- I’m trying to find someone, it’s just hard.” It was close enough to the truth. Enough that Jack nodded slowly.
“I’m assuming the PTMC doesn’t know?”
“No. I- no, they don’t.”
Jack nodded to himself, bringing a hand up to rub against his jaw absentmindedly.
“Okay. I’m going to offer something you can absolutely turn down, and if you do I promise not to be weird about it after.” Jack looked at him until Dennis nodded before he continued. “You let us help. Me and Robby. I know I’m a bit more of a stranger to you than Robby is, so if it’s easier for you to go down for him than me I would get it. But that way you get a contact to put down on your paperwork, we sleep better at night knowing you aren’t teetering on the edge all of the time, and all of us win.”
Did Dennis die? That’s the only way he could explain the attendings he’s admired in every sense offering to give him the comfort his body had been craving for years.
“I…why? I mean, I’m so- I’m grateful for the offer, but…what do you get out of this?” Dennis stuttered, his cheeks warm at how awkward he was getting his words out.
“I just said- we know you’re safe and sound and that’s enough for us. It doesn’t need to progress past that if you don’t want it to. Besides…” and here, Jack paused to look at Robby, a silent conversation taking place before Robby nodded. “...this isn’t exactly my first rodeo in dealing with someone letting their sub side fall on the back burner. We get it, maybe more than most.”
Dennis felt his mouth fall open again. “You’re-?”
Robby shrugged, giving Dennis a little self-depricating smile. “A switch. Not every dom is looking to take care of a 6 foot sub. Jack’s… good. He’s patient. Safe. Five stars from me.”
Dennis nodded slowly, still turning the information over in his head. “Would… I don’t know a lot about this stuff. My family didn’t really encourage that kind of thing. I just wanted to tell you before we agreed to anything.” Before you take me on.
“That’s alright. We won’t go balls to the walls right away; I’ll have you fill out a list, ask some questions, lay out some clear expectations. Nothing continues if you aren’t comfortable with it.”
The last bit of Dennis’s coffee was cool when he sipped it, buying himself those precious seconds. Maybe it was something in his demeanor, but Robby spoke up soothingly.
“Think about it. Just let us know by the end of the week if you’re interested. If you don’t want it to be us…well, we’d be happy to get you in touch with some folks in our circles. We know some good doms, good people.”
“I can do that.”
“Good job talking to us, Den, I know this can be hard.”
Dennis nodded, praying to god his face getting warm was only in his imagination. Robby’s watch beeped, prompting the start of breakfast clean up as he stood up and cleared away his and Jack’s mugs.
“Our shift starts in 2 hours- I can drop you off at home so you can shower and get ready if you’d like.”
“That would be good, thank you. Wait, Dr- Jack, don’t you work nights?”
“Dana was able to call someone in- she cares about you too, you know. She wanted to make sure you were alright so I skipped out. If nothing else it was a great excuse for a night in.” Jack grinned, standing up with the help of the forearm crutch and the table. “And don’t apologize- I don’t get to wake up slow with my husband a lot, it’s nice.”
His husband. As if Dennis could forget he was talking about starting a dom/sub relationship with two married men. It made the soft ease curdle in his stomach.
“Subs are nothing but wild horses sent by the Lord to be tamed.”
“Dennis?”
Dennis blinked, and seeing Robby’s outstretched hand wet and soapy with dish soap handed him his coffee mug.
The ride back to the apartment wasn’t as stilted and awkward as he thought it would be. Robby was good at filling the silence, asking about Trinity, asking about his patients from yesterday and how his body was feeling. Making Dennis actually take stock of his body instead of letting the little aches and twinges fall into the background of movement.
Robby pulled into an unloading zone and turned on his hazards. “Alright. I’ll see you in a few, Dennis- you better get something solid in you or else I’m telling Jack.”
“Wouldn’t you tattle to Trinity?”
“Oh yeah, sure. If Garcia’s to be believed you’re both tied for ‘who can run on the least amount of gas’. You kids and your youthful bodies.” Robby made his voice sound more decrepit at that, pulling a huff of laughter from Dennis.
“Fine, fine, I’ll eat.” Dennis gathered his bag and opened the car door.
“Good boy. See you at work.” Dennis felt his steps stutter before he slammed the car door shut, giving Robby a little wave before making his way up the apartment steps. “Good boy.” Shit.
Dennis didn’t even get his key in the lock before it clicked open and Trinity was standing in front of him, hands on her hips. Dennis winced away from the scowl on her face.
“No note. No text. I had to have Jack Abbot tell me you were in their dungeon-”
“-I wasn’t in a dungeon!-”
“-after dropping at the Pitt!”
“I’m sorry, Trin, I wasn’t expecting it to happen or I swear I would have told you.”
For a second it looked like Trinity wasn’t going to let him in, standing there with her arms crossed before she side stepped with a grunt. “You’re making me brownies. And I get dibs on the bathroom first thing in the morning. For a week.”
“It would be what I deserve.” Dennis agreed solemnly, setting his bag down and toeing off his shoes.
Trinity sat down on the couch with a huff before turning around to look at him over the back of the couch. “How ripped is Dr. Abbot?”
Dennis groaned and covered his face with his hands. “So ripped, Trinity, oh my god, I thought I was going to combust. He walked into the kitchen shirtless.”
“Oh my god, what a whore.” Trinity guffawed. “They want that cookie so bad.”
“Eww, Trinity!”
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