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Jack leaned against the nurses’ station, his foot tapping a silent impatient rhythm on the linoleum as the clock ticked closer to the end of the night shift.
“Dr. Abbot?”
The voice was quiet and tentative. Jack turned his head. Dennis Whitaker stood there, looking impossibly young and sincere in his scrubs, a sheen of sweat on his brow from a recent code. His body seemed to vibrate with leftover adrenaline.
“Whitaker.”
“I, uh...I just wanted to say thanks. For backing me up on the chest tube call. I know it was a risk.”
Jack grunted, looking back at the empty trauma bay. “It was the right call. You saw the issue before I did. Good eyes.” He delivered the praise like a fact, dry and unadorned. It was enough. He saw Dennis’s shoulders relax a fraction.
“Thanks.” Dennis paused as he shifted his weight. “It was a long shift.”
“They all are.”
“You heading out?”
“Soon. Got to clean my pool today.” Jack said offhandedly.
Dennis’s face lit up, a sudden bright expression. “Oh! I can help with that. I mean...uh...if you want. I grew up cleaning all kinds of things...irrigation ditches, barns, you name it. A pool’s nothing.”
Jack studied him. The offer seemed genuine. There was a resilient earnestness to him that Jack found both baffling and slightly refreshing. “It’s a shit job.”
“I don’t mind.”
A corner of Jack’s mouth twitched. “Fine. I’ll text you my address.”
“Okay,” Dennis said, beaming up at Jack.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The mid afternoon sun was a hot heavy blanket over Jack’s backyard. The pool was a mess. It looked like a green-tinged soup with pine needles and oak pollen. Dennis had arrived in simple swim shorts and a faded t-shirt, which he’d peeled off within minutes and threw onto a patio chair. His torso was lean, but his arms and shoulders had the type of muscle that Jack would bet held a silent strength. Jack tried not to stare as they worked in tandem. Dennis skimmed the surface with a relentless and efficient energy, while Jack managed the filter and vacuum from the deck, his prosthetic firm on the wet concrete.
The work was physical, but silent except for the splash of water and the whir of the pump. Yet, a current hummed between them, thicker than the humid air. Jack would catch Dennis looking at him, a quick appraising glance that lingered on his arms or his chest before darting away. When Jack handed him the long-handled brush, their fingers grazed against each other. Just a simple accidental touch, but Dennis didn’t flinch or pull away. His eyes met Jack’s, a question in their blue depths before he turned back to scrubbing the tile line.
“You’re not bad at this,” Jack said, breaking a long silence.
Dennis flashed a grin over his shoulder, water dripping from his dark blonde hair. “Told you. Farm boy. This is a vacation.”
“Your vacation needs better scenery.”
“The scenery is just fine,” Dennis said, his voice low, before moving to the other side.
Jack felt a flush that had nothing to do with the sun. He busied himself with the chemical tester, his mind a static buzz. He’s twenty-seven. He’s your intern. This is a profoundly stupid idea. But his body, long dormant in any arena outside of work and survival, was humming a different tune.
Two hours later, the water sparkled in a clear inviting blue. They hauled the equipment to the shed, the tension between them now a live wire. Jack pulled two ice cream cones from the freezer, handing one to Dennis. They leaned against the warm stucco of the house, surveying their work. Dennis ate his quickly and neatly. Jack was slower, lost in thought, the ice cream melting in the heat.
A bit of the vanilla ice cream dripped down the sides, trailing down his thumb and over the back of his hand. He went to wipe it off.
“Wait.”
Dennis’s voice was a soft command. Before Jack could process it, Dennis had taken a step closer. Jack could only watch as Dennis bent his head, his gaze locked on Jack’s, and brought his mouth to the sticky trail on Jack’s skin.
The sensation was electric. The swipe of Dennis’s tongue licked a clean stripe from Jack’s knuckles to his wrist and Jack’s breath hitched. Dennis straightened up, licking his own lips, his eyes dark.
Dennis looked up at Jack through his eyelashes, a mischievous glint replacing the usual quiet demeanor. Jack’s brain short circuited.
“Are you hungry?” Jack asked, his voice rough.
A slow smile spread across Dennis’s face. “Starving.”
Jack, still reeling, fell back on autopilot. “Okay. I have some steaks inside. We can fire up the grill—”
Dennis leaned in closer as his lips brushed the shell of Jack’s ear. His whisper was a hot shocking caress. “I’m not talking about food, Jack.”
Then he pulled back just enough to look at Jack’s face. There was a remnant of ice cream at the corner of Jack’s mouth and Dennis moved forward with a quick devastating lick that swiped the sweet residue.
Time stopped. Jack’s world narrowed to the point of contact.
Dennis didn’t wait for a response. He took one last long look at Jack’s stunned face with a mischievous grin. Then he turned and walked away towards the porch sliding door. His walk was a slow deliberate swagger that Jack had never seen from him. At the door, Dennis hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his wet pool shorts. In one smooth motion, he pushed them down over his hips and his thighs, and stepped out of them.
Dennis was naked. The late sun gilded the curve of his ass, the strong lines of his back, and the backs of his thighs. He paused, glancing over his shoulder to look at Jack. The grin was a pure unadulterated challenge. Then he disappeared into the dim interior of the house.
Jack stood frozen, the remains of the ice cream cone melting over his fingers. Jack felt a surge of pure undiluted want so powerful it made his knees weak.
Fuck it.
Jack dropped the messy dessert into a nearby planter and wiped his hand on his shorts before moving inside.
The house was cool and quiet. He found Dennis in the hallway, leaning against the wall just outside the bedroom, still gloriously and confidently nude. His erection was full, curving up against his stomach. He looked at Jack, all playful bravado softened into something more intense and questioning.
“This okay?” Dennis asked, the vulnerability back in his voice for a split second.
Jack crossed the space and kissed him. It was not gentle, but a collision of heat and need. His hands came up to frame Dennis’s face, his thumbs rough on his jawline. Dennis moaned into his mouth, his own hands sliding down Jack’s back, pulling their bodies flush. The feel of Dennis’s hard cock against his own through the fabric of his shorts, was a jolt of pure lightning.
They stumbled into the bedroom, a tangle of limbs and hungry mouths. Clothing was a frustrating barrier. Jack yanked his shirt off. Dennis helped him with his shorts, his fingers deft and sure, even as they trembled slightly. Dennis kissed his way down Jack’s chest.
Soon, they were both naked on the bed, the comforter shoved hastily aside. Dennis lay half over him, their legs entwined. He was everywhere, his mouth a brand on Jack’s skin. He kissed the hollow of Jack’s throat, the line of his collarbone, and the swell of his chest. Then his tongue traced a long wet line up the column of Jack’s neck.
Jack arched off the bed, a ragged gasp torn from him. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this, with this kind of attention. Dennis sucked at his pulse point until Jack saw stars. Dennis’s hands roaming over Jack’s sides, his stomach, and his hips.
“Dennis...” Jack breathed, his own hands fisting in the damp blonde hair.
As if that was the only invitation he needed, Dennis began to move lower. His lips blazed a trail down Jack’s sternum, over his abdomen, pausing to swirl his tongue in the dip of Jack’s navel. Jack’s cock lay heavy and leaking on his stomach and every nerve ending was screaming for contact.
Dennis looked up, his eyes meeting Jack’s. He held the gaze as he lowered his head, his breath a hot puff over the sensitive head. Then he took Jack into his mouth.
The sensation was so intense, so perfectly wet and hot and tight, that Jack cried out as his head slammed back against the pillows. “Fuck!”
Dennis worked him slowly and expertly. He flattened his tongue along the underside, then moved to circle the crown, sucking with a gentle building pressure. His hands held Jack’s hips down firmly as he took Jack deeper, his throat relaxing in a way that made Jack’s vision blur.
It was overwhelming. The sight of this beautiful young man between his legs, giving himself over to Jack’s pleasure with such focused intensity...it shattered the last of Jack’s control. The sensations built in the slick friction and the soft hum of Dennis’s pleasure. Jack was hurtling towards the edge, a coil tightening unbearably low in his gut.
“Ah, god...fuck me,” Jack groaned, the words a raw unfiltered expression of the pleasure consuming him.
Dennis’s head popped up fast. He released Jack’s cock with a soft wet sound. His lips were swollen and his eyes wide as he looked suddenly serious. “Is that something you would want?”
The question hung in the air, charged and direct. Jack, his mind hazy with lust, nodded. “Yes. God, yes.”
The change in Dennis was instantaneous. The playful farm boy vanished, replaced by something more dominant and assured. His eyes darkened with a possessive heat. “Okay,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Okay, Jack.”
In one smooth startlingly strong motion, he manhandled Jack. With his hands on Jack’s shoulders, he flipped him onto his stomach. Jack went willingly, a shudder of anticipation wracking his body. He felt the bed dip as Dennis moved, then the sound of a drawer opening. Lube. Of course he’d found it.
Then Dennis was over him, his body blanketing Jack’s back. He kissed the nape of Jack’s neck, a soft contrast to the firm hands spreading his thighs. “Relax for me,” Dennis whispered, his breath hot in Jack’s ear.
Jack tried. He buried his face in the pillow as his fingers clutched the sheets. He felt the cool slick of lube, then the press of a finger, careful and slow. He hissed, his body tensing for a second before forcing itself to relax. Dennis was patient as he worked him open with a single finger, then two, scissoring them gently, crooking them until he brushed that spot that made Jack jerk and cry out.
“There it is,” Dennis murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He added a third finger, the stretch a delicious burn. “You’re so tight, Jack. So good for me.”
The praise, filthy and earnest, went straight to Jack’s already throbbing cock. He pushed back against Dennis’s hand, a wordless plea. He was ready. More than ready.
He felt the blunt hot head of Dennis’s cock pressed against him, replacing his fingers. Dennis leaned over him, his chest plastered to Jack’s sweat slicked back.
“Look at me,” Dennis said.
Jack turned his head, his cheek against the pillow. Dennis’s flushed face was above his with his lips parted. He held Jack’s gaze as he pushed inside.
Jack gasped, his mouth falling open at the feeling of being utterly filled. Dennis sank in to the hilt, a low groan vibrating through his chest and into Jack’s back. He stayed there buried, letting Jack adjust, his forehead dropping to Jack’s shoulder.
“Okay?” he breathed.
“Move,” Jack begged, his voice hoarse.
Dennis obeyed. He drew back almost all the way, then slid home again with a smooth powerful stroke. He set a deep relentless rhythm, each thrust punching a ragged moan from Jack’s lungs.
As Dennis moved, he paid homage to Jack’s back. He littered the knobs of Jack’s spine with open mouthed kisses. He licked the sweat from the dip of his lower back. He sucked a bruise onto the curve of Jack’s shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin. His hands, those strong capable hands, roamed constantly; kneading the muscles of Jack’s shoulders, skimming down his sides, and gripping his hips to pull him back onto each thrust.
“Your back...” Dennis panted against his skin, between kisses. “So strong...all these muscles...fuck, Jack...”
He was worshiping him. Dennis was treating Jack’s body like a map of desire; every scar and every tense cord of muscle was a place to be explored and cherished. He fucked him with a passionate intensity, but he loved his back with a tenderness that shattered Jack completely.
The dual sensations were overwhelming. The deep internal drag of Dennis’s cock, hitting his prostate with unerring accuracy, sent shocks of white-hot pleasure up his spine. And the external symphony of sensation of the wet heat of Dennis’s mouth and the firm pressure of his hands. Jack was being unmade, piece by piece.
Jack reached a hand beneath himself, desperate for friction on his own cock, but Dennis caught his wrist and pinned it gently. “No,” he murmured, his voice a guttural command. “Just take it. Come from this. From me.”
The denial and dominance from Dennis sent Jack spiraling higher. His prostate was being massaged with every deep plunge, his body used so perfectly. The sounds were obscene from the slap of skin, their mingled grunts and moans, and the creak of the bedsprings. Dennis’s pace began to falter, growing more frantic, his breaths coming in sharp gasps against Jack’s neck.
“Jack...I’m close...gonna come inside you,” Dennis growled, his hips stuttering.
The raw possessive claim tipped Jack over the edge. Pleasure detonated at the base of his spine and rocketed outwards, a silent searing explosion that tore a ragged shout from his throat. His body clamped down around Dennis’s cock in violent rhythmic pulses, milking him through his own climax.
Dennis cried out, a sharp broken sound, as he buried himself to the root and pulsed, hot and deep. He collapsed onto Jack’s back, his full weight a comforting crushing pressure. His face was buried in Jack’s neck as they both shuddered through the aftershocks.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Dennis softened inside him but didn’t pull out. He nuzzled Jack’s neck, his lips brushing his skin in what felt like unconscious affection. One of his hands came up to stroke through Jack’s salt-and-pepper hair, a gesture so tender it made Jack’s chest ache.
Slowly and carefully, Dennis rolled them to their sides, slipping out as he did, but keeping Jack pulled back tight against his chest. He draped an arm over Jack’s waist, his fingers splayed possessively over Jack’s stomach. His breathing began to even out.
Jack laid there boneless, his mind blissfully blank. The scent of sex and sweat filled the air. Dennis’s body was a warm solid line of heat against his back. Dennis’s lips found Jack’s shoulder again, as he placed a soft lingering kiss.
“The pool looks great,” Dennis mumbled, his voice thick with sated sleep.
A startled breathless laugh escaped Jack. He turned his head just enough to see Dennis’s profile, his eyes already closed with a small satisfied smile on his lips.