Chapter Text
Around noon, Dennis finally awoke to the sound of a blaring horn from the street below. Groaning and rubbing a hand down his face, panic started to set in. He only had a few hours to clean and set up space for Robby. Dennis didn’t want to assume Robby would spend the night, but he knew that Robby would probably have had a long day and would want to relax. He truly didn’t care if his attending wanted to ravish him tonight, but he did want to take care of him. He wanted Robby to feel wanted, needed, cared for.
Part of being in this kind of relationship, it always takes two to tango. Consent, boundaries, loyalty, trust—to Dennis, the most important part was care. He thinks back to before Robby’s sabbatical, when they had gone for drinks at a run down bar in downtown Pittsburgh for Victoria’s twenty-first birthday.
Three Months Earlier
Dennis decided to really let loose. He hadn’t planned on meeting anyone here, but all of his best friends and colleagues had grouped up with their partners, some prospective and some solidified. In simple terms, he felt lonely.
The resident also wasn’t very forthcoming about his sexuality, so many people in the department didn’t fully know his preferred kind of partner. Of course, Trinity, Victoria and Samira knew, but they knew more about him than his priest back home. They understood him in ways that his biological family never could. The girls were his family, the only home he could call his own. Nebraska was far behind him, a distance formed physically and emotionally.
Across the bar, he had noticed a particularly handsome man around his age staring him down. Dennis was currently grinding with Samira on the dance floor in the most platonic way he could as Kenny Chesney blared through the speakers. The man simply nodded and so did Dennis, never breaking eye contact as he spun Samira. Something in him told himself to be bold, so he did.
“Mira, I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Wait for me so I can spin your pretty ass all over this floor,” Dennis winked. “Okay, farm boy! Don’t get lost,” Samira giggled. She was extremely intoxicated, thankfully Jack was here to take her home.
Dennis kissed her cheek and looked up at the stranger, nodding his head over to the bathrooms. He watched as the man knocked back whatever old-fashioned adjacent cocktail he was drinking, and quietly slipped in between line dancers to the solitude of the men’s restroom. Dennis wasn’t exactly fond of making out in dive bar bathrooms, so he waited patiently outside the door with his back leaned against the wall, shoe placed delicately near his knee.
They didn’t have to say anything, instead they let the music and the alcohol talk for them. The handsome stranger leaned down and roughly shoved his lips against Dennis. Great, Dennis thought, another man who tastes like cigarettes and regret. He could sniff out a down-low man from a mile away, like he used to be able to smell the rain before it came.
As they sloppily made out, Dennis opened his eyes slightly to see his attending staring at him from a secluded spot, hidden from plain sight. He doesn’t know what overcame him, but he kept his eyes locked on Robby as his tongue danced with the man he wished was him. I think I’ve had too many Banquets, Dennis moaned softly into the other man’s mouth.
Robby sat back, head hitting the wall as he kept his gaze on his resident. He slowly sipped his glass of Blanton’s, a double shot with exactly three ice cubes, and patiently let the scene unfold in front of him. Robby’s face was too difficult to read, Dennis didn’t know if he was upset or if he was intrigued. Regardless, the shared gazes remained.
Eventually the younger man broke the kiss, patting the other man on the shoulder. “You should call me, sometime,” the man breathed on Dennis’ face. Dennis grimaced slightly, “Thanks, but I’m actually just visiting the area.”
With that, Dennis walked off and started his way back to the dance floor, glancing at Robby in time for him to see the attending beckoning him over. Dennis raised an eyebrow and redirected, slowly approaching the table for two, “Yes, Dr. Robby?”
“Did you know that man, Dr. Whitaker?” Robby had this intense, dark look in his eyes. His face was stoic, almost imposing. Dennis wanted to melt right then and there.
“No, sir. Just trying to have a little fun.”
Robby laughed and circled the rim of his glass with one finger, glancing down at the floor, “It looked to me like you were being used, Huckleberry.”
Dennis awkwardly scratched his neck and it was his turn to look at the ground, “No, it was more like I was using him, sir.” He was genuinely shocked by his own honesty. Definitely too many.
Robby hummed in response, bringing his stare back onto Dennis, “Whitaker, you know I’m always here for you, right?”
The resident gave Robby a confused look, not grasping where this could possibly be going, “Yeah, I know…what are you trying to say?”
“Dennis, why are you trying to repress yourself? You’re allowed to be gay, you know. You don’t have to go to some random corner and hide.”
The younger man coughed in response, fumbling in his brain with the right words to say. “Y-yeah. Yeah. I know, I just have…issues, I guess.”
“Well, those issues won’t be resolved by shoving your tongue down a random man’s throat, Whitaker. Do me a favor,” Robby leaned over and pressed his hand firmly in the pit of Dennis’ neck, “you will not hide yourself anymore, and you will not try to cure your loneliness with strangers at the bar.”
Dennis obeyed.
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Cleaning ended up being a lot longer than he anticipated, who knew that if a person just picked up after themselves, it wouldn’t take three hours to clean a room? Thankfully, Dennis took after his mother, otherwise he’d still be looking at an utter disaster.
Dennis decided that a shower was needed, and also a meal. He had to keep his momentum going if he didn’t want to drown in the nerves of Robby stepping foot into his safe haven. Trinity was pulling a double shift today and was more than likely going to Yolanda’s after. He had the house, and Robby, all to himself. Perfect, Dennis shivered. It was around four-thirty in the afternoon at this point, he knew Robby wouldn’t get here for another two hours. Sooner, if he comes straight from work.
After his shower, he decided on some leftover Chinese food Trinity had saved for him. It was her favorite, Singapore noodles with extra spice. Dennis thankfully had grown accustomed to her need for everything to be on the higher end of the Scoville scale. Otherwise, he’d probably be malnourished. Dennis was handy with a spatula, but most days after work he couldn’t be bothered with cooking.
Time passed, and Dennis decided to text Trinity to let her know what was happening. It was her apartment, after all, and in case things went south with Garcia, he didn’t want his best friend to walk in on anything she wouldn’t want to.
With that, he sent Robby a text with his address and the building code, aimlessly watching Jersey Shore until the doorbell rang.
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Around six-thirty, Dennis heard three rapid knocks on his apartment door. You got this, Whitaker. You’re a fuckin’ doctor, for god’s sake.
He got off the couch and braced himself, pausing before swinging the door open. To his surprise, Robby was standing there sheepishly with the most beautiful bouquet of blue hydrangeas he’s ever seen. Oh, Dennis thought, he got me flowers. Hydrangeas. Beautiful.
Robby smiled bashfully and held them out for Dennis, “For you. They reminded me of your eyes.”
Dennis took them with eyes wide, the romance of it all being sickly sweet. He stepped aside and cleared his throat, “Thank you, sir. They’re gorgeous. Please, come in!”
Internally, Dennis was squealing like he was a teenager again. He couldn’t fathom a man he cared for so much going out of his way to get him a bouquet of fucking flowers for him, let alone showing up in the first place after a twelve hour shift. Robby didn’t even look disheveled, some childlike energy seeming to give him a much needed second wind. To Dennis, it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. What Dennis viewed as romantic, however, Robby viewed as guilt. The ruminating thoughts of being appalled by his own sick desire were still plaguing him. They only lifted slightly when he saw the younger man almost burst at the seams as he embraced the crystal vase, an old one he kept when his Bubbe had passed.
Suits him, Robby smiled.
“Would you like to take a shower? I imagine the shift was rough, like it always is. I set aside some towels and some manlier-smelling products on the sink, just in case you didn’t want to smell like cherry macarons,” Dennis giggled. He giggled. Yeah, definitely felt like a teenager.
Robby laughed breathlessly, “Actually, yeah. That’d be great, but I don’t want to take up too much of your time. Especially since, you know, we kind of have to talk about…this,” he waved between the two of them.
“Oh, it’s really no problem. If everything goes well, I figured you could spend the night if you wanted to, sir,” Dennis winked.
“Let’s talk first, and then we’ll see about all of that,” Robby smirked, a smugness written all over his face.
Dennis softly took Robby’s hand and guided him to the couch, muting the episode. As much as he wanted to see Snooki and JWoww pick up guidos on the beach, his attention was strictly granted to his attending. They sat on each end, but not entirely apart. Their knees were slightly touching and hands met each other at the back of the couch, softly brushing fingertips. The sensation sent a shiver down Dennis’ spine, and a burn through Robby’s throat.
“Dennis,” Robby cleared, “I’d like to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I should have never laid a hand on you, and I definitely should not have shaken you off to the side when I was finished. I promise, I’m more of a gentleman than that.”
Dennis tapped his index finger with his own and smiled, “There’s no need to apologize, Dr. Robby. If it helps, I thoroughly enjoyed being with you, in that position with you. I don’t doubt for a second you’re a gentleman,” he gestured to the flowers that graced his counter.
“Whitaker, I’m in your apartment right now and you’re asking me to spend the night. I think we can save the formalities for work and other events.” Robby took the leap and squeezed his resident’s hand, “That being said, I’m glad you enjoyed it, I won’t lie to you and say I didn’t, too, but you deserve better than mere degradation and disrespect.”
Dennis sighed and cocked his head to the side, “Okay, Robby, listen to what I’m telling you.”
“I wanted it to happen. Fuck, I wanted you. I want you. It wasn’t disrespectful, to me at least. Call it a kink, call it whatever you want. I’d let you do it again in a heartbeat,” Dennis exhaled.
Robby nodded cautiously at the boy, “So, you’re saying you want this to continue?”
Dennis gave him the most incredulous look possible, “Is it hard to believe someone like me could be into that kind of thing? Into you?”
Robby shrugged and caressed the back of Dennis’ hand with his thumb, “Actually, yes. Dennis, I feel like a god damn pervert. I feel like someone who crossed a line.”
Dennis lifted Robby’s hand and kissed his knuckles, keeping his eyes locked onto his like that night in the bar. He slowly took the thumb that was rubbing him and kissed there, as well. The same thumb he familiarized himself with the day before. Robby shuddered at the contact, letting a heavy breath leave his diaphragm. “If anything, I’m the one who crossed it. You just let me. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you, but honestly, I’m really not sorry. You are the epitome of all my desires. Tell me you don’t want this, want me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
The attending laughed and blushed, something Dennis didn’t even think was possible. He’s such a fucking brat, Robby cooed.
“The thought of you perched on my desk like that has been haunting me for the past twenty-four hours. I want this. I want you, baby.”
Dennis let out a small whine at the pet name. He has half a mind to get on his knees and suck Robby dry. Alas, the conversation still had to persist. This was new, exciting territory and Dennis didn’t want to navigate it without a clear destination.
“I have some ground rules, sir.”
Robby raised an eyebrow and nodded, signaling Dennis to continue on. “First, I’m not into being a pup, kid, or anything like that. I’m a grown man and I want to be treated like one. You can degrade me, praise me—even “good boy” and other pet names are fine—but you cannot infantilize me.”
“Second, I refuse to call you “Daddy” or do any age play shit with you. You’re also a grown man, and even though my relationship with my father is anything but great, I prefer to keep my daddy issues separate from my sex life,” Dennis gave Robby a pointed look.
“Third, we need a safe word. I don’t really follow the normal guidelines of kinky shit especially pertaining to BDSM, but a safe word when things might go too far will be the healthiest option for both of us. I’ve had too many rough experiences under my belt to know that we need one. If you fail to listen to the safe word, it’s over, what we share will be done,” Dennis crossed his arms and shifted his eyes to the ceiling, contemplating on any other rules he might have missed. After a slight pause, Dennis recalls a particularly bad night and looks up at Robby once more.
Without breaking eye contact, Dennis sighs. “Last thing, definitely no homophobic shit. I will actually kick your ass, Robinavitch.”
So bossy, Robby chuckles a bit. “Whitaker, I promise you I won’t call you a fag while I’m fucking you. I agree to everything you’re saying, and I have one rule of my own.”
“When we are together, I’m in charge. You will obey me, whether that means I’m prioritized or you are,” Robby smiled darkly at the younger man, “however, this is where the safe word comes in. I will never cross a boundary you set. I want you. I need you. I will do whatever it takes to keep you with me.”
Dennis fully laughs at this, more from disbelief than anything. Right here, in his shared living room (which wasn’t really his), his attending is agreeing to a literal Fifty Shades scenario with him. If someone told Dennis that two and a half days ago, he would have thought they were lying through their teeth.
Dennis really wasn’t all that kinky either, he just liked to be a horny freak. He believes it’s probably from the years of repression and conditioning—his hyper sexuality coming to the forefront and awakened by the carnality of man. Well, more specifically, Robby.
Robby also shared this sentiment, having kept things pretty vanilla since his first time with Stacy Graham when he was sixteen years old in the back of his Zayde’s 1967 Camaro. Bright orange with the kind of leather that sticks to thighs in the August heat. Something about the younger man brought an intensity out of Robby that he had no idea existed. He had been unkind to past partners, thinking he was protecting them; maybe even projecting onto them. The intensity was always simmering in the pit of his stomach. But here Dennis was, taking that turmoil and turning it into desire. Robby would have never gaged Dennis would truly see that raw anger, cradle it in his hands, and let it blossom into something more passionate. Something worth tasting.
That, or the kid had serious fucking issues. Robby guesses he did too.
“As for safe words,” Robby hummed, glancing at the bouquet adorned on Dennis’ kitchen island, “how about hydrangea?”
Dennis cocked his head to the side and slowly released a childish smile. He was determined to prove to Robby that the older man was worth it, that he’d be cared for and attended to. “Yeah, I think that’s perfect. It fits us.”
“So…about that shower and staying the night. Still up for grabs?”
“I don’t know, you think you’ll kiss me this time?”