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Fuck. This was wrong.
He nuzzled his face deeper into the covers. It was maddening. All musk and bodywash, and something raw. Something strong and oh so familiar. It was pure Robby. He knew the scent better than he’d ever admit. Robby always got so close. Spending so much time in his bed sure didn’t help, it was all he could think about.
A small part of him wondered if Robby had changed the sheets before he left. He probably had. A smaller part of him hoped he hadn’t. He was on his stomach now, still only half awake. Clinging to the last remains of the dream that just passed him.
He could still feel it. The thick hands all over him. Raking over his chest, his back, down his thighs. He had experienced wet dreams before, of course he had. But this was different. A hundred times more intense without anything really happening. Just hands raking over his skin. But god it was more than enough.
There had been glimpses of Dr. Robby in his dreams before, never like this. Something about being surrounded by his scent made Dennis’ mind spiral out of control. He almost came in late for his shift just the day before. Stumbling in through the doors and doing everything he could to not look like he had been mewling into a pillow just before, earning himself a weird look from Trinity.
None of that mattered now. He really needed to get to sleep. His shift was starting soon enough. Judging by the brief look he had gotten off the alarm clock by the bedside it was three in the morning. He had time.
“Fuck it.”
He couldn’t stop now. It was too much. His cock was aching and leaking into the sheets. He was going to have to change them sooner or later. With the way he had been rutting into them night after night they would just about be ruined. His shifts had been too long for him to bother, he would have to throw them away and pray that Robby wouldn’t notice.
He wondered what would happen if Robby walked in on him now. Desperate and keening in rumpled sheets. Dennis had no real idea of when Robby would return, if ever. No. He did not want to think about that. Robby had said three months, but nothing would stop him from returning right now. Unlocking his own door and finding his home pristine just as he left it. He would walk through his house and find the bedroom door just open. And inside would be Dennis just as he is now, on display for him.
The logical part of him knew that Robby wouldn’t do anything. He would probably be appalled. And Dennis would feel more shame than he ever had. But god how he wanted Robby here. He wanted him to walk through the door and take him. He wanted the phantom hands on his skin to be real. Wanted them to hold him close and take him apart.
He could feel it so vividly. He knew Robby would be gentle, of course he would. But he would also be firm, and sure. Maybe a little rough around the edges if he lost enough of his control. Dennis would take all of it. Anything Robby offered would be met with open arms.
Touching himself felt too wrong for his own liking. It felt like crossing some invisible line. Like that line hadn’t been crossed ten times over as he rutted into a bed that wasn’t his. In a home that wasn’t his. He always tried to resist. At times it felt impossible. His hands would wander and then it was too late.
But he was being good today. Keeping his hands bunched into the sheets above his head, trying to muzzle his own noises in the pillow. It was useless. He had to bite down into the fabric to keep himself down. He just didn’t want to scream. Robby had mentioned elderly neighbours.
It was overwhelming beyond his brittle control. His knuckles were going white in their desperate hold. The slow circles of his hip failing as he dragged his cock slowly into the fabrics. He knew he could come like this, he had done it before. But it took its sweet time. Building slowly up his spine inch by maddening inch.
His back was arching into it. Making the pressure hit just right. An especially good drag making him howl into the pillow. All pretence of keeping quiet flying out the window. The tingling at the base of his spine was getting more intense for every moment that passed. He wouldn’t last much longer. A small relief.
It was always too much. And all the same, not enough. He needed someone with him. Someone to get him through it. He needed Robby. God he really wished he was here.
The orgasm ripping through him was nothing monumental. Just a quick spark up his spine and a weak trickle soaking the fabrics. It still took him by surprise. Ripping the air from his lungs as his hips jerked to a stop. Finally letting all his muscles go slack.
The shame always hit him in a heartbeat. Not letting him rest in the glow for even a moment. There was nothing to do besides letting out a deep sigh. He knew it was coming. It always did.
It was all wrong. The fact that he was in Dr. Robby’s bed in the first place was nothing short of a miracle. As much as it pained him that Robby was not with him, what he was doing about it was worse. He didn’t even have self control enough to keep it in his pants for one night surrounded by the other man’s scent. It was pathetic.
He wanted to cry. He was far too exhausted to be able to get anything out. Every emotion was wound up and locked away securely. There was no opportunity to let them out. There was barely any time between his shifts. And he would rather spend the time getting some sleep rather than brooding over nothing significant. And it wasn’t significant. He was so tense. He missed the familiarity of having Trinity around him all day. To have someone to talk to. He missed Robby’s grounding touches during his shifts. He needed Robby’s guidance, and he wasn’t here. And Dennis was so scared that he really never was coming back.
A particularly deep breath in of the bedsheets had his cock stirring again. The brief orgasm just before hadn’t been enough. His spiraling thoughts about his attending didn’t do him any favors. He leaned into it. It was a welcome distraction.
Just half hard his cock was spent. Raw and sore from the rough fabrics. He was going to have to put in more of an effort. Just rutting into bed covers could only do so much. That meant that he would also have to break his rule about touching himself.
Groaning, he got up to his knees. Letting out a shiver as the cold air in the room hits his aching cock. He wanted to drag it out. If he was going to lose sleep he might as well get something worthwhile out of it.
Dennis arched his back as he pressed his face even further into the pillows. Taking deep breaths in and holding the scent in his lungs. Letting it surround him and hold him. His hands started to wander. Gently mapping the skin along his thighs and torso. Taking his time to reach every inch of exposed skin, skipping over the parts he craved the most. Teasing himself until he was quivering. Breath hitching as his index finger skipped over his gaping hole.
He couldn’t help but imagine that his hands belonged to someone else. Bigger and more callused hands mapping every part of him. He could just about feel hungry eyes on him. So close to reality. And never close enough. But it did the trick. He was shaking, cock aching and dripping from where it pressed against his stomach.
He didn’t have much to work with. As bad as what he was already doing was, bringing tools felt worse. A breach of trust he couldn’t allow himself. He hadn’t dared to look into the bedside tables in Robby’s bedroom. Not knowing if it would be worse to find something or not. It wasn’t like he could use any of it either way. That would be noticed. He could never handle the aftermath of that humiliation. Spit would have to do.
Spitting onto his own fingers always felt filthy, and also just right. He reached back slowly. Letting his right hand land carefully at his backside. Gripping onto the mattress with his other hand, making sure to keep himself upright.
The first prod with his index finger left him gasping. The dryness of it all was never quite pleasant. He would have to get his hands on some lube soon enough. He couldn’t go on like this forever.
Biting back a whimper the first finger slipped inside. He let himself settle in the pressure. Skin prickling all over his body. He made a rocking motion back into the pressure before remembering himself. He had to do the work himself.
He kept the drags long and slow. Being tentative to build himself up slowly, knowing the result would be far better if he did. It was a long battle with himself. Making sure to resist the urge to hurry it up. The saliva he had managed to get onto his fingers was just enough to keep it from being agonizing. Offering just the moisture needed to keep himself going.
It quickly got far too overwhelming. He had dragged himself along far enough. He carefully added a second finger, wincing at the burn and pushing back into it all the same. After a final long drag he plunged his fingers into himself. Making sure to get as deep as he possibly could as he bit back a guttural scream.
It was all just enough. He wanted more. And he could not do it himself with just his hands. He couldn’t reach as deep as he wanted in this awkward angle. Yearning for thicker fingers reaching into him.
He was thrusting his fingers as hard as he could. Letting out a gasp with every drag of his knuckles. His mind was getting foggy. Letting the fantasy break through completely. He could practically feel the other man above him. Wrapping him in hot skin.
His hand was getting frantic behind him. Mind fogged over with the image of his attending in place of his own fingers. He shuffled around to get his other hand underneath himself. As much as he would love managing untouched there was no supply of patience left.
The side of his face was pressed hard into the pillows now. Missing the arm to hold himself up. It was easy to imagine himself held down as he lost more of his own mobility. A phantom hand snaked across his back and lingered on his neck as he wrapped his fingers around himself. Feeling the sting of his sensitive cock as his fingers began to drag. The precum dripping out of him was just enough to stiffen the worst of the dry drag of his fingers. He would not last much longer.
The double sensation was everything. Keeping all of his senses occupied as the phantom presence grew stronger. He was balancing just on the edge. Waiting for his mind to offer up something to push him over. He could just feel hands all over him, raking and scratching. Pushing down and into him. And then there was a breath landing on his neck. A warm brush of air.
His cock twitched in his hand as he kept pumping his fingers. Feeling the all so familiar tingle crawling up his spine. Another phantom breath at his neck, a thick voice uttering just what he needed. Whitaker.
The orgasm hit him like a truck to the chest. Blinding his vision and stealing all sensation from him. He faintly registered that he was screaming. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the blinding pleasure burning at his skin.
He rocked himself through the waves of pleasure. Catching his breath as they subdued. He collapsed into the bed. Spent and filthy. He was going to have to get in a shower before his shift started. The sheets beneath him could really use a wash, he hoped he could manage to get it done alongside the shower. But he knew he wouldn’t. He never did.
He was so screwed.