Chapter Text
It was one of those days. The ones where every emergency lasted hours long—recovery moving in slow motion, and every patient was on the cusp between life and death.
Whitaker’s not sure where his mind went on days like this. What mind-palace he had subconsciously created to escape. Days where his hands moved on autopilot and his mouth barked out orders that he couldn’t even remember his brain forming.
A patient chart— a kid no older than twenty with a rash somewhere it should not have been. Treated—filled out. Blue ink pressed harshly against the white paper. His pen seemed to continually rove over the letters. again, again, and again. 1:47am, read the clock. God, it was time to go home.
Then, a lingering smell, stronger now. like hand sanitizer, soap, black coffee, and fatigue. Robby.
He always seemed to find Dennis when he was like this. Not that Dennis was a hard find, but he did nonetheless. His eyes were on Dennis’ profile and the smaller man could feel it, of course. But he didn’t turn to look, and Robby didn’t mind.
“Shift change,” Robby’s voice is rough and low. His fingers tapped the counter, a soft rhythm. “I’ll take you home tonight.” It wasn’t much of a request as it was a demand. He would take Whitaker home.
And Dennis didn’t refuse. He never did. He could never pinpoint when he stopped denying—saying he could do it on his own, but he did. Never could see when things changed—when it was a bit softer, warmer. When his presence wasn’t just another doctor. When it turned into something he craved, something worth looking forward to.
“That alright with you?” That was a first. Well.. Robby didn’t have to ask, did he? It was alright. Always had been from the beginning.
“Yeah,” Dennis whispered. “Sorry. I’m.. uh, half asleep.”
He looked down at the patient chart in his hands, sighing as he read over the same sentences again and again but not absorbing them.
The crash after a rush in the hospital was the worst. Exhaustion caught up quick, making him unable to focus. His hands came up, scrubbing at his sore eyes with a small sigh. The things he’d do for some sleep.
Robby took in the sight of the tired, exhausted man; he seemed so small, standing there. With the too-big scrubs on him, because of course he had something spilled on him again, and the eyebags beneath those puppy dog eyes he’d grown to love. Robby had to will himself not to sigh—not to give away the deep-seated urge to coddle the other.
He left the counter then, taking his coffee cup and gently pressing it into Dennis’ palm, the cup warm and soothing against the smaller doctor’s frigid skin.
“When was the last time you ate something?” He gently rested a hand on his arm.
“Uh,” Dennis murmured. “Around 2 o’clock,” Dennis replied after a small pause of thinking.
He took the coffee gratefully, sipping it with a small sigh of pleasure. It tasted so good on his tongue, the warm fluid helping comfort his frayed nerves that seemed to linger despite the now-quiet emergency room.
“I could go for a burger,” He said softly, looking down at the cup in his hands. “…Need some comfort food after tonight.”
"Two o'clock in the afternoon? That was over twelve hours ago, Dennis." Robby's voice took on that particular blend of exasperation and concern he reserved solely for moments like this. He watched as Dennis drank the coffee he’d offered earlier, using every damn muscle in his body to tear his gaze away from the way Dennis’ tongue darted out to lick over those soft lips.
Reaching into the pocket of his scrubs, Robby produced a protein bar - slightly crushed from being carried around all shift but still sealed. "Here. Eat this before you pass out and make me carry you to my car bridal-style," he teased, though there was genuine worry beneath the humor. "I’ll get you that burger in a bit—even if it’s not a nutritionally sound breakfast.”
He nudged the protein bar closer when Dennis hesitated, adding softly: "C'mon, pup. At least pretend to take care of yourself half as well as you take care of everyone else." The words came out more tender than intended; something about those tired blue eyes always made him speak softer than usual.
For a moment, he stayed silent—merely observing the other man's small form. The shadows under his eyes, his messy hair, those little beauty marks dusted across his skin.
“The machine ran out of your size again," He pointed out bluntly.
“Yeah,” Dennis mumbled, looking down at the big scrubs on himself. “I got mustard on my other pair, and.. uh.. blood on the next ones. By the time I went t’change, they didn’ have mine. Next best thing, y’know?” His words were quiet, that underlying sense of autopilot heavy in his tone. Like the conversation between them was secondary—and his body’s main focus was keeping those blue eyes open and his legs standing. He took the protein bar, taking small bites out of it before eventually discarding it on the counter.
‘Next best thing’ was an understatement. Dennis practically swam in those scrubs. "How do those damn things even stay on you?" Robby grumbled again, crossing his arms.
He had to resist the urge to reach out and fix the too-big sleeves. Not that he was opposed to the way the oversized clothes hung off his boy, but he found himself thinking he'd prefer if it was his clothes on the smaller man's body. His clothes, something soft and comfortable, his cologne lingering on the fabric—
His thoughts were cut off as Dennis’ face burrowed in his chest, like a puppy seeking warmth from an old guard dog. He glanced around, noticing it was just them left alone in the ER by this point. Makes sense.
“Wanna go home,” Dennis slurred out, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. “Please?” He looked up at the older man, those sad eyes of his completely and utterly enrapturing Robby—just like they did the day they met.
Robby didn't even hesitate, his arms were around Dennis in an instant, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other settled firmly between his shoulder blades.
"Yeah, I know pup," he murmured into soft blonde hair, breathing in that cinnamon scent that clung to him. "Let's get you home." His voice was rough with that same exhaustion but impossibly tender all the same—like Dennis was something fragile and precious pressed against him.
He didn’t move immediately; just let Dennis stay there for as long as he needed, thumb tracing absent circles on his back. There would be time for burgers and coffee later—right now? This was enough.
They were like that for a solid minute, just standing there in that quiet corner of the hospital with Robby holding Dennis close. He could feel the other's breathing slow, the tension slowly melting out of tired muscles.
With some reluctance, he pulled back slightly, studying Dennis’ face in the harsh fluorescent lighting. "You okay to walk or do I have to carry you to the car?" He asked, raising a dark eyebrow and fighting back a smirk.
Dennis yawned softly, and Robby knew he had his reply.
“Alright, c’mon.” He declared, keeping a hand on Dennis’ shoulder as he guided them both out of the ER.
As soon as they were back home, Dennis was on the couch in nothing but his boxers, munching on his McDonald’s (because of course Robby had to indulge the boy) as he watched his favorite show.
Robby was down the hall, in the restroom, taking a hot shower to ease his achy muscles. He was aging, there was no doubt about that, if the way his knees popped whenever he knelt down was any indication.
By the time he came back out in his pajamas, he noticed that Dennis was asleep, his food already finished in front of him. Robby smiled with love and a sense of amusement. With a soft grunt, he lifted the small man, carrying him to their bedroom.
The movement jostled Dennis, making him stir with a soft, sleepy, noise. “Robby?” He mumbled, looking up at his lover with half-lidded eyes.
“Yeah. ‘M here.” Robby replied, his voice low and calm, the same tone he used to coax patient’s families into tranquility. He laid Dennis on the bed, walking away for just a moment, only to return with one of his t-shirts. He slipped it over his small lover's body, not hiding his very sudden interest in the way those sleeves met skinny forearms, or the hem rested right over the middle of those plush thighs. It made something possessive burn in his chest—a desire to keep Dennis all for himself.
“Comfy?” He muttered, the word barely audible. His hands settled on Dennis’ thighs—big and warm and calloused, a stark contrast to the smoothness of Dennis’ skin.
Dennis nodded, smiling with glee at the feeling of Robby’s shirt swallowing his smaller frame whole. “Mhm, really comfy,” He mumbled, arms reaching up to pull Robby down for a small kiss. “Want you.” He murmured against the older man’s mouth.
Robby groaned—partly at the kiss, partly at the words—and tightened his grip on Dennis’ hips. "Don't start with that shit now, you were just asleep,” he grumbled, though there was no real bite to it.
He tilted his head slightly to deepen that kiss, a low noise rumbling in his chest as his hands slid further up those soft thighs.
"You’re spoiled." His voice dropped dangerously low—already imagining just how wrecked and limp Dennis would be beneath him after.
“Mhm..” Dennis hummed, resting his forehead on Robby’s. “Please?” Oh, there he goes with those damn puppy-dog eyes. How the hell could Robby ever resist?
He groaned, shaking his head with a weary laugh. “You’ll be the death of me. I swear it. I’m too old for this..” But even as he said those words, he was leaning down to capture those soft lips in another kiss.
His hands were already skimming up the hem of that oversized shirt, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses across Dennis’ jaw, down his neck, and across his collarbones. Every bit of exposed skin was marked with teeth and lips, leaving behind a constellation of faint red marks.
He pushed the fabric higher, exposing the younger man's chest to the cool air. His hands flattened over his pecs, his thumb swiping over a nipple that hardened instantly beneath his touch.
"Is this what you needed, baby boy? Needed to be touched?" He murmured against his ear. "Needed me?"
He knew the answer already. Of course Dennis needed him. It was why he always came crawling and begging. Always so desperate.
“R-Robby,” Dennis breathed out, his chest arching up into Robby’s warm fingers working over his nipple. He was already half-hard in his thin boxers, and with the way things were going now, he’d be leaking and achy in no time. “W-Wait a sec’ please..”
Robby stilled instantly at Dennis’ voice—hands stilling, lips pausing mid-kiss against his throat.
He pulled back just enough to look at him, dark brows furrowing slightly. "You okay?" His voice was rough with arousal but laced with immediate concern, thumb tracing soothing circles over Dennis’ hip bone. “Talk to me."
“‘m okay,” Dennis assured with a little nod, swallowing thickly. “Jus’—um,—I want something slow tonight. Don’t want rough.”
Robby sighed—part relief that it wasn’t anything serious, part desire from his words. He could never say no to that soft, tired voice asking for a gentler touch.
He pulled away long enough to shuck off his pajama’s, leaving behind bare skin and firm muscle. He settled back over Dennis, pressing a lingering kiss against his forehead. "Yeah," he murmured, tone low and soft, like velvet. "Slow. Gentle. Whatever you need."
He kissed him again, deeper this time, hands roaming over every curve and dip of the younger man's body. His touch was tender, worshipful.
He didn't rush. He took his time mapping every inch of Dennis’ body with reverent hands—lips following the path of his fingers as he traced delicate collarbones, the dip between ribs, the flutter of a pulse beneath fragile skin.
"Beautiful," he murmured against his sternum, feeling the way Dennis’ breath hitched when calloused thumbs brushed over sensitive skin. "Always so fucking beautiful like this."
He pressed slow kisses down trembling thighs before guiding them over his shoulders—gaze locked on Dennis’ flushed face as he finally, finally, took him apart in earnest with nothing but patient hands and an achingly devoted tongue.
He watched with hooded eyes as Dennis melted beneath him—every touch, every kiss drawing out soft whimpers and hitched breaths. The way his body arched so sweetly into each caress had Robby’s chest tightening with something dangerously close to worship.
He nosed at the inside of a trembling thigh, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses there before murmuring against heated skin,
"Tell me what you want, baby boy." His voice was gravel-rough. "Want my fingers? My mouth?" A deliberate pause as he dragged teeth lightly over sensitive flesh. "Me?"
Dennis whined, hips bucking up from the attention lavished on his thighs. “Y-Your mouth, please,” He breathed. He was achingly hard in his boxers by now—leaking precum like a broken faucet. The thought of Robby’s mouth around him, worshipping him, rewarding him like he deserved it after a long day at work, had his cock twitching with interest.
That didn’t go unnoticed by Robby, who smiled warmly. “Yeah? My mouth?” He leaned down, pressing kisses to the clothed length of Dennis’ erection. “Such a good boy you are, using your manners.”
"Always so good f’me," Robby murmured against his cock, before tugging those boxers down and lowering his mouth to where he was already hard and wanting.
His hands gripped trembling thighs as he worked him over with lips and tongue, slow and thorough just like Dennis had asked for. Every gasp, every hitched breath was savored—each little noise proof that this sweet thing beneath him belonged to him.
“Robby,” Dennis whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips bucked up involuntarily. His hand flew to Robby’s hair, tugging at it lightly as the older man continued to work over Dennis’ length with reverence. “Oh-nnh— Robby..” He drawled the man’s name out, his body taut with pleasure. His mind was already beginning to feel fuzzy—that familiar headspace taking over slowly but surely. It was only a matter of time before Robby had him babbling nonsense.
"Shhh, s'alright," Robby murmured. He pressed another kiss to the inside of Dennis’ trembling thigh and hummed, eyes drifting upwards. "Just relax. Lemme take care of you."
His fingers snaked up, two pressing right against Dennis’ lips. He pushed them inside, letting the smaller man coat them evenly in saliva before he brought them down against his entrance. "Yeah. You know I always do, don't you? Always give you what you need.”
Robby didn't let up—his mouth relentless against Dennis’ cock as he slowly worked those fingers inside of him. When Dennis’ lips parted around a soundless sob, he knew he’d struck gold. “Ohhh. There it is, my sweet boy.” His voice was a low croon, guiding Dennis into throes of pleasure.
“Feels good, doesn’ it?” He murmured, more focused on prepping the boy than giving him head at this point. He still leaned down occasionally, lips wrapping around the head of Dennis’ cock to gently lap at precum where it beaded.
“Robby!” Dennis cried, both hands in Robby’s hair. “Please, please- please.” He didn’t even know what he was begging for anymore—all he knew was he needed more. More touch, more praise, more kisses—Robby’s cock—anything.
When Robby leaned down to properly take him into his mouth, he keened, his back arching. “Nuh-no— gonna cum t-too quick.”
Not that Robby cared—his fingers curled, hitting that sweet spot within Dennis that had the boy trembling and gasping for air. “‘s alright. Cum if y’need to, baby boy.” He soothed when he pulled back off, working a third and eventually a fourth finger into Dennis’ tight entrance, properly prepping him for what he truly wanted.
Dennis squirmed, hips rocking back on pure instinct to chase that pleasure, his mind delirious at this point. “Nnh- fuh-fuck! Fuck! ‘m cumming-!” He sobbed, his back arching as he clenched tightly around the fingers inside of him. His release painted his soft tummy, making a mess of Robby’s shirt.
“‘m sorry- ‘m sorry,” He whimpered, tears still falling down those pretty cheeks. He didn’t open his eyes just yet—his body still taut as Robby worked those fingers right against his sweet spot to ease him through his orgasm.
Robby finally pulled away, taking those fingers out slowly, he took in the sight of Dennis all wrecked and breathless against the sheets. His chest swelled with something dangerously close to pride.
"There you go," he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to Dennis’ sweat soaked forehead, lips brushing against it as he spoke. “You’re okay. Y’did good, baby. Don’t be sorry.”
Dennis reached up with weak arms, pulling Robby against him, their bodies flush. “‘m not done.” He mumbled petulantly, resting his forehead in the crook of his lover’s neck. “I jus’.. need a second.” His hands snaked down, the heel of his palm grinding slowly against Robby’s hardened cock.
Robby exhaled sharply through his nose, muscles tensing as Dennis’ fingers worked him over with slow, deliberate strokes. His grip on the younger man’s hair tightened—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind him who was in control.
"Thought you were tired," he gritted out between clenched teeth, voice already wrecked beyond repair. His hips jerked up into that tight fist again before he could stop himself—his breath catching at the sensation.
"You really wanna do this?" He rasped—though it was obvious from how flushed and hard he was that it didn't matter what Dennis said at this point; Robby wasn’t stopping now either way.
“A-are you kidding?” Dennis stammered, looking up at Robby with those still-wet eyes of his. His bottom lip jutted out just slightly—the habits of being the youngest in his family, he supposed. “Off. Please.” He begged, tugging at the waistband of Robby’s boxers.
Robby groaned, leaning down to capture Dennis’ lips in a desperate kiss. It was a clash of tongue and teeth, Robby almost tearing that shirt off of Dennis’ body.
He reached down, tugging his boxers off just enough to free his cock. It hung heavy between his legs, the tip flushed with a bright pink from his arousal.
Dennis gaped—he always did, despite seeing Robby’s cock a million times at this point. “O-Oh-“ He breathed, his hand shakily reaching out to wrap around it. It couldn’t wrap fully around it—something that Robby always found endearing.
“Yeah. There you go.” He ground out against Dennis’ lips, hips rocking up just slightly into that warm little hand.
Dennis’ legs spread—a subconscious action bred by months of letting Robby ruin him. Robby didn’t miss it either, quickly settling between them, his palms heavy and warm against Dennis’ skin. “Ready?” He murmured lowly, resting their foreheads together.
Dennis nodded enthusiastically, watching as Robby aligned the tip with his entrance. He sank in slowly—not wanting to hurt his boy, even if all he wanted to do was take.
The boy instinctively keened, hands gripping the sheets as he squirmed. But when Robby’s hands wrapped around that waist, and forced him still? He was done for. His hands went from the sheets to wrap around Robby’s wrists, blunt nails scratching at his skin as the older man finally began to move.
Soft pants and whines escaped Dennis, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes remained glued to the way the man’s cock slowly slid in and out at a torturous pace. “Robby,” cried Dennis, trying to pull at his lovers arm. “Close—closer. Want y-you closer.”
Robby groaned at the words, his head tilting back for a moment before he pressed deep within Dennis, lowering himself so their chests were flush. “‘m here. Shhh. My baby boy..” His breaths were labored, each word broken up by a soft grunt or groan as he moved steadily within Dennis. “So good.. look,” He pressed his palm against the lower half of Dennis’ tummy, where there was a small bump every time Robby pressed in to the hilt.
Dennis squirmed at the sight, his eyes shutting tightly as his head lolled back against the pillows. His lips were parted in soft gasps and whimpers, hands clutching the sheets. “M-more-“ He begged, clenching tightly around his lover. “Please.”
How could Robby resist? He paused for just a moment, adjusting their positions before he set a fast pace, one that made his old body beg for mercy. He leaned down, kissing Dennis’ neck as the downright sinful sound of skin against skin filled the room. “Taking me so good,” he whispered out. “God, look at you, baby boy..” He lifted his head, his eyes half-lidded as they raked over the small form of his lover.
“C-Close-“ Dennis cried, the noise turning desperate as Robby angled those thrusts against his sweet spot. His back arched, hands reaching up to drag down Robby’s back.
Robby groaned at the sensation, pinning Dennis’ arms above his head with one large hand, adjusting one of his legs to rest on his shoulder just so he could reach even deeper. “C’mon, pup. Cum for me.” He gritted out, his grip as firm as steel on that plush thigh.
That was all it took, and Dennis came with a wrecked sob, clamping down tightly on Robby’s cock. The older man threw his head back with a guttural noise of pleasure, his hips speeding up until they stuttered, and he was filling up the boy to the brim.
They laid there in silence, Robby shifting Dennis’ leg around his waist before draping himself over the boy. He remained buried within him—unwilling to break the intimacy they shared. ‘Just wanna make sure it takes,’ He'd murmured once, even if the idea was foolish.
“Y’okay?” He murmured lowly, cracking an eye open to look at the boy—his boy. Dennis nodded, pulling Robby as close as humanely possible with weak arms. “Mhm.. more’n okay.” He replied, limbs wrapping around Robby like he was some kind of overgrown octopus.
Robby chuckled—the noise low in his throat. It was the same chuckle that countless patients and workers alike had heard, the same chuckle that always escaped him when he was being cheeky. “You deserve a bath,” He murmured, kissing Dennis’ forehead.
Dennis nodded, humming quietly in response. “Yeah.. wan’ a bath. But… cuddles for now,” He sounded so sweet—all soft and limp for his boyfriend now. “Love you.”
Robby nodded, shifting so they were laid on their sides. “Alright. Cuddles for now,” He agreed easily, kissing Dennis’ temple. “I love you too, pup. Get some rest.”