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It had been a shift from hell. Not the shift from hell, that was still reserved for Pittfest, but it certainly wasn't sunshine and rainbows. There was a car crash, a bad one. A drunk driver had swerved in front of a family, ramming them in the side and sending them skidding across the icy road. The mother was pronounced dead at the scene. Her kids, two sisters, were in the back seat.
The eldest sister had unbuckled her seatbelt to cover her little sister, shielding her from flying debris that then hit her in the back of her head. He tried to save her, he really did but he just couldn’t. Things just happen, people can’t be saved. Yet; his brain still fumbled for ways he could’ve helped her- How he could’ve fixed everything, if he just worked harder, if he just did better. He was too wound up in his failure to even consider all the people he’d saved that day as well.
Robby had to be forcefully ushered out of the Pitt at seven and spent the whole walk home in silence, staring at the path until it went fuzzy and blended together. When he had snapped back into his body at the front door, he noticed his cheeks felt wet.
He needed a drink…
The door slammed behind him and he crashed back against the door, sighing with relief that it was finally over…These four walls kept it all out. He slipped his bag off his shoulders and shuffled through the house, peering around the corner in search of his partner.
“Dennis? I’m home!” He called out, voice slightly scratchy from the yelling, he had torn a poor resident a new one for a mistake that probably didn’t warrant being yelled at for.
“I’m in the bedroom!”
Robby slipped his shoes off, kicking them down the hall before following the voice upstairs and to the master bedroom. He pushed the door open to reveal the most beautiful sight in the world, Dennis reading a book on the bed in nothing but a sleep shirt, all ruffled and cozy, almost like a cat that hasn't left its spot in hours. He looked up at Robby with those sweet eyes and smiled like an angel, an oasis in a desert of blood and antiseptic.
“Hi baby, how was your day?”
Robby stared at Dennis, the pet name toppling the last pillar keeping him together and making his cardboard walls crumble. His lower lip started to wobble, and he choked back a sob,
“Bad..” He whined, barely above a whisper.
Dennis’s face fell, and he held his arms out,
“Oh, sweetheart. Come here.”
Robby clambered onto the bed, like a dog finally let up on the couch, and fell into Dennis’s arms, pressing his cheek into his soft chest. The man cooed, starting to run his hand through Robby’s hair as he rocked them back and forth.
This wasn’t the first time they ended up like this. There were frequent quiet moments between the two, where Robby laid everything out for him and allowed himself to be coddled and taken care of. Mothered, even. At first he felt pathetic; he was a middle aged man sobbing into his 28 year old boyfriend's chest about his job that millions of people did daily. He didn’t deserve to be held; he needed to hold everything else together. He didn’t have time to let go.
Except for now, as he sobs about his day into the soft shirt. About the deaths and the slip ups and how the vending machine stole his change…He let it all out until he felt dry, silently gasping into the fabric. He looked up at Dennis through his thick lashes, big brown eyes speckled red pleading for something unspoken. Dennis’s face softened and he nodded. Robby's hand immediately slips under the night shirt and hikes it up, revealing his leaking chest to the air. Robby wasted no time in latching on, his eyes falling closed as he immediately moaned against it, suckling like his life depended on it, his large hands grabbing Dennis’s waist to keep him near. The hand in his hair tightened, thumb stroking the back of his head as Dennis whispered,
“Good boy…Sounds like you had a real hard day, huh?”
Robby nodded, the pathetic glint in his eyes mixing with his wet tears. Dennis cooed and pushed Robby’s hair from his face, trailing his hand down to cup his cheek,
“It’s okay, Mommy’s got you. No need to worry about all that silly doctor stuff anymore,” He continued to urge him on, and Robby got progressively more desperate and messy, letting out a disappointed whine when some dribbled down his chin. He was wasting it.
Dennis chuckled condescendingly, “It’s okay, you can’t help it…” He soothed, wiping the drop of white from his chin, “Just excited to help mommy feel better, aren’t you?”
Robby nodded immediately, barely processing what he had said. Whatever he had said, hes sure it was right, Dennis was always right.
“Good boy, how ‘bout you make yourself feel better too?” Dennis suggested, pitch flicking up at the end. Robby nodded but didn't move, happy to grasp at Dennis’s tits and suckle away till all the horrors of his job were washed away. Suddenly, he felt a leg slid between his thighs and press up against his hard on. Robby let out a whine and pulled off with a pop, lips shined with spit,
“Mommy,” He said, quietly and filled with shame. Dennis wasted no time in curling his hands back into his hair and pulling him to the other side, visibly more swollen,
“C’mon, sweetheart. Just remember to help mommy too, okay? Don’t get too distracted…” He teased and Robby reddened, nodding against the plump skin before latching back on, suckling in time with each roll of his hips against the strong thigh between them.
His noises picked up, gasping around the bud in his mouth and moaning against the skin, letting the milk dribble clumsily down his chin and getting caught in his beard. His hips stuttered and thrust rapidly for a moment before latching back on and resuming his rhythm, this time slightly faster and a lot messier.
He was barely drinking anything at this point, just letting his mouth gape over his partner's chest as he chased his release, his hand grabbing and squeezing at his chest so the milk could flow out onto his lips and onto his tongue.
“Sweet boy… my sweet boy, you gonna cum for me?” The syrupy sweet voice practically hypnotised him into speeding up his thrusts, latching on once more and using his free hand to paw at the other side. The noises were obscene, gasping and gulping like he was starved as he stared up at him with pleading eyes. He was so close-
“Come for Mommy, Michael…”
He felt his mind go blank, thrusts stuttering as he came into his boxers with a gargled moan. His mouth didn't pull away, though he stayed lying in his sticky mess until he was finished and Dennis's nipples were swollen and puffy, pulling away from him and wiping the spilt milk from his chin.