Archive of Our Own

- 7:00 PM - 

Dennis gasped, voice echoing solidly around the wet, clammy bathroom. He could barely hear his own frantic moans and whimpers over the hurried sound of skin-on-skin, the wet friction of his hand wrapped around his cock, deliriously fast, almost worried. He bit down over his bottom lip to muffle the noise; he couldn't help himself. Even though he tried to stop, all he could think about was 

the thick fingers of those wide hands clamping down, grabbing, reaching, forcefully pulling his hips down until he was delirious with want, strong sweaty muscled arms wrapped around his waist, the soft folds of a stomach tensing with effort, heaving with the need for release, a hot wet tongue sliding up his forearm, from a mouth huffing out weak curses, and that rough voice praising him, telling him he deserved this, the wet slap of skin-on-skin, the hard friction of those thighs pressing into the backs of his thighs as collateral from the dizzying friction of that cock, sliding in and out, forcing him open, forcing him to stretch and take it, the desperate keening moans breaking that voice until finally Robby was panting, begging him, humping his dick into Dennis's ass again and again and begging for release, wanting him more than he ever had before, desperate to cum, finally begging for his approval- 

Dennis's orgasm was more like a sigh- he was disappointed with himself, as his cock gave a weak splatter of cum onto the bathroom floor, nearly disgusting at how loud it was. He was shaking, hands hot from working himself up, head pounding from concentration. Most of all he just felt the customary guilt of masturbating to the thought of getting fucked by his superior. Worse was the idea of getting caught, which induced a sick twist into his stomach. That might have been his worst fear- the fear of Robby finding out, the look of disgust on his face, walking into the bathroom just as Dennis finished. Which was why he always made sure to wait until he got home to jerk off.  

His crush on Robby wasn't the crush it had been previously, when he hadn't known any better- an admiration that was too personal to be professional, his more innocent feelings of wanting to be praised and smiled upon. That crush was what Trinity knew about. After that, anything more than that, she had no idea, and it was probably better that way. Robby was an ache, that sick twist in his stomach, a perversion that he was supposed to be better than. In Dennis's mind, Robby liked him the way he was, the way he had been- meek, soft, wanting slight attention, and he wouldn't want to know, either, how Dennis had changed since then. Keeping the new feelings to himself was the smartest way to avoid destruction. 

Dennis groaned with annoyance at the guilt burrowing into the space between his ribs. I have to go to bed. He looked up, away from his flaccid dick and the disgust he started to feel staring down at his body, lean and too small in the big space of the bathroom, inappropriately sexual. The way he looked, the person he was- he wasn't supposed to be in situations like this. It didn't look right. He kept his eyes towards the ceiling instead, zipping up his pants, putting everything away. All of it, all of that disgusting perverted nightmare was gone, far away, out of reach until the cravings got too strong again. He didn't want to stay in here, in this room, it felt like the scene of a crime he'd committed, coupled with throbbing guilt, but he lived here, in this apartment- Trinity's apartment- and he had to go into this bathroom every day and pretend he didn't remember. Dennis wished he could forget, until the wanting started again, and he had to 'take care of it'. Somehow, the wanting never went away, even after weeks. He was possibly the least self-aware person on the planet, but it- feelings like this- happened so often he had no choice but to understand that they were there. 

He stood and padded out of the bathroom, wincing at the stickiness drying down his thighs; and kept walking down the hallway, head pounding. Dennis's hands massaged his temples as consolation for both the headache and his guilt, but his fingers weren't big enough or long enough or self-assured enough to help anything feel better. He sighed, instead, for probably the fifth time, a small, weak little sound, characteristic of his too-small too-weak self. From down the hallway, the slight drone of a voice, Trinity's voice, as enthusiastic as she could be almost asleep on the couch, interrupted his thoughts. "Huckleberry. You're still up?" 

Dennis turned towards the sound, unable to control the smile forming on his face, even if guilty panic still made his temples throb. That was the effect of Trinity- even if he couldn't forget about the guilt clambering in all chambers of his heart, he could at least smile when he saw her. It wasn't as bad as it would have been with somebody he knew less. Even without knowing what she couldn't about him, Trinity was his best friend, somebody who could provide some comfort. "Yeah." He managed, pulling himself forcefully out of his thoughts. "Sorry to wake you…?" 

Trinity was splayed out on one of the apartment's many couches, arm draped over the side, body shrouded in a thick pink blanket. Comfortable, at ease, and unaware, as always, of his… situation. She returned his smile, cheeks dimpling slightly, eyes light. He couldn't believe he'd thought she was scary on the first day. "No, I was already up." Her eyes glanced over him. "You okay?" 

No, no he wasn't and he hadn't been for several days, and it was all Robby's fault. He met her eyes, the delusional part of his brain wondering if he should tell her the truth. Of course not. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just, um… can't sleep." 

She watched him, bemused. "Okay. Well, try to get some." There was a pause as she considered the implications of the phrase 'get some', rueful smile curling her face pleasantly. She was delightfully easy to read. "Y'know. Sleep." 

He scoffed, playing with rolling his eyes at her, still unable to control his smile. His poker face needed work, truth be told, even if Trinity wasn't someone he had to pretend to. "You too." 

Trinity went back to her book, eyes drifting out of the present and back into the pages. Dennis wished he were reading it with her. He was always introspective, lately, in his own head too much for his own good. A book might be nice to snap him out of reality for a minute. I need to get out of this apartment sometime. Go out with friends or something, get my mind straight. Be a person instead of a homebody creep. 

Dennis stalked over to his room, a little door at the end of a cramped hallway, still more than he deserved considering Trinity paid a good portion of the rent. He pushed open the door, closed it behind him as quietly as he could as not to disturb her, and, with a sigh, collapsed onto the bed, limp.  

Every single day, lately, was the same routine. He'd wake up, unburdened by the memory of the day before, until sometime during breakfast he'd remember everything. For the rest of the day he'd deal with the guilt, the feeling that eventually he was going to get caught for thinking this way. Then the feeling would subside, replaced with that bittersweet want feeling, eating up his insides, until it dissolved through his stomach into lust, and he would start craving the same, specific, weird fantasy. It wouldn't leave the forefront of his mind until he acted on it. And acting on it meant… touching himself. So he'd sneak off to whatever bathroom, usually the one near Trinity's book-reading-couch, masturbate to the fantasy (though 'fantasy' seemed too nice a word for what he thought about), then leave the bathroom, avoid looking at himself, and go to bed. Sometimes a conversation with Trinity provided a brief interlude before then. That was the only real interruption. Other than that, he lived the routine. 

Except, tomorrow, it was Monday, and Monday meant a shift with Robby. Robby who, up until this point, thought Dennis was only a little not-well-adjusted, only slightly attention-seeking. Robby, who liked to joke and touch and look without really seeing, Robby who probably figured Dennis was staring up at him out of wonder and admiration for his ability to save lives or whatever the fuck rather than staring to watch the broad curve of his superior's shoulders or the jut of his shoulder blades through that stupidly thin scrub top. Dennis shivered a little just thinking about that, the cold reality of his feelings towards Robby- lusty, adolescent feelings that were somehow both shallow and able to consume his entire being. Feelings that prevented him from being… well, normal. 

It wasn't very difficult to understand why he would have trouble sleeping, tonight of all nights. Seeing Robby in the morning might possibly kill him.  

Dennis sighed into the heel of his hand and adjusted so his head was more towards the middle of the pillow. Staring up at the ceiling, he tried a few times to close his eyes but couldn't keep them that way for very long. He felt restless. 

He was frustrated with himself, pent up at his own inability to get over it, to forget it. Dennis didn't like feeling like this, dirty and immoral and somehow intruding on Robby by thinking this way, distorting his image. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong, and, goddamn, it was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. 

Absentmindedly, he palmed himself through his pants, breath getting a little heavier. Fuck. C'mon, Dennis. Does the word 'bad' not mean anything to you? 

Apparently it did mean something to him, but it meant more to his dick, jumping suddenly against his hand. God, this isn't good. Robby, I'm sorry, I'm so fuckin' sorry, please, I can't help it, I- 

Breath heaving, he gasped, loud and disturbingly echoing around the walls of the bedroom, too. His cock was buzzing, smeared with precum, and he was dizzy with the realization that, already, he was close, just thinking again of Robby and what a bad, bad idea it was- 

and Robby was crowding him against the doorframe, murmuring into his mouth that it was gonna be okay, that he had it all figured out, and that self-assuredness melted away into hot desperation as Robby's big thick hands were pulling out his cock, unzipping Dennis's pants frantically until both of their cocks were held, inconsequential, in those wide calloused palms, and Robby was jerking both of them off in one hand, holy shit, and he'd watch the curve of Robby's neck as he threw his head back, groaning, and Dennis's face would hurt from his eyes widening as he watched Robby's cock splattering cum all over Dennis's stomach, and that broken, rough voice, telling him he was a good boy, telling him he deserved this, feeling those huge hands wrapped around his dick pumping him, that voice again telling him he wanted this, needed this, until Robby's head was going down, soft lips wrapped around the tip of Dennis's cock, tongue sliding loudly over him until he was sticky and so, so close, and those dark brown puppy-dog eyes staring up at him as Robby wrapped his mouth around Dennis's swollen dick and took him all the way, into his throat, and he'd watch those wide hands gripping his hips, his hips that were too small but looked perfect here with someone else, not inappropriate here, just right, those hands protectively white-knuckling him, while Robby's ragged groans through the pathetic wet noise from his hands pumping Dennis's dick encouraged him on 'til he was cumming, and he was watching Robby swallow, watching his cum drip from Robby's lips- 

He made a noise that was something like surprised pain as he reached orgasm, barely touching himself through his clothes. The warm, brimming delicious satisfaction he got from it was replaced with horror and the customary following frustrated disgust of cumming untouched, messy, all over himself. Usually he'd be a bit more shellshocked, since this wasn't the sort of thing that happened to shy, small, nice guys like him, but cumming untouched was more like a symptom for his feelings. The only thing he had to be surprised about now was how quickly it had happened. 

Used to it, though, Dennis didn't really have trouble thinking the next steps through. He wasn't very good at avoiding mistakes, but he had gotten good at covering them up. 

So, not wanting to attract attention or wake up Trinity by heading into the bathroom again, he sat up and moved his legs over the side of the bed, peeling off his now-soiled pajama pants and boxers and rummaging in his wardrobe for new pairs of both. It was disgusting, this stickiness showing him just how stupid and primitive his instincts were. The fact that his attraction to Robby started instinctually was a whole can of worms he winced at the thought of opening. 

Once he was changed again, Dennis sat back down on the side of the bed and let his head fall into his hands, neck heavy, eyes pressing warily shut. What the fuck is wrong with me? 

It only took a couple seconds before he was sick of leaning down into his hands, elbows resting awkwardly on his knees, and he decided laying back would be more comfortable. 

So that was what he did- he laid down, head nearly slamming into the pillow, as he choked back frustrated groans. I just wanna go to sleep and forget about this. Please, let me forget about this. 

Eventually, out of pure frustration, he drifted off into sleep, hoping the morning would treat him better. 

- 6:00 AM -  

The next morning, getting changed for work, Dennis had a weird self-consciousness. It wasn't like he wasn't normally self-conscious- he was irritably anxious at times, a side that not many had the privilege to see, because not only did his rendered 'sweet nature' make him absurdly aware of the needs of others, it also made him aware of himself. This feeling was different than that- it was more rooted in vanity. Dennis stood in front of the dingy floorlength mirror Trinity had propped near the door of his room, dingy because he'd assured her he probably wouldn't need it (which was the root of her entire quest to style him better, including the haircut), and he was holding up two scrub tops that were two slightly different shades of black, testing how each looked. He wasn't sure where this I need to look good feeling had come from, but it was a welcome replacement for the lusty feelings of the previous evening. Dennis decided on the slightly darker one, sliding it over his undershirt and noticing how he was now filling out the sleeves better. Finally he wasn't so goddamn small, at least in this regard. 

Dennis didn't have to force a smile looking at himself. He looked sort of… manly. Masculine. A feeling he'd been missing, ever since the whole intense-feelings-for-Robby thing started. Actually, he'd been missing that feeling all his life, with four older siblings. Whatever, point was, it was nice. 

Pleased with the refreshing change, he fluffed up the back of his hair some more, twirling his fingers through the curls. He looked good. He headed out of his room and into the main part of the apartment, the sort of kitchen-living combo he thought Trinity was lucky to afford. He noticed his ever-present headache was also mysteriously absent. 

Trinity, leaning against the door to the entrance, staring down at her phone, seemed less chipper than he was. Her posture was tense. 

"Morning." He said smilingly, trying his best to appear normal and not over-the-moon for his surprisingly good looks today. She slow-blinked at him, like a cat. "Uh… g'morning to you, too?" 

It was about five seconds before she said anything else. Trinity looked back up at him from the phone, tilting her head at him as if studying him. "And… why are you so happy this morning?"  

"I slept, uh, better than I thought I would." He offered, true but not the whole truth. Half of him had kinda hoped she wouldn't notice the mood shift. 

Trinity narrowed her eyes. "…Riiight. Well, just wait 'til we get to work." 

"What, you think my well-restedness is going to… I don't know, go away?" He asked, possibly the most words he'd strung together these past few weeks.  

She scoffed. "Is that even a word?" 

"'Well-restedness'? Um… probably not. But… I mean… the point still stands." 

"Sure, sure. Talkative Terry over here." 

Dennis blinked, brows furrowing. "Uh, Talkative who?" 

"It's like 'Negative Nancy'. Or 'Debbie Downer'." Trinity supplied. When it appeared he didn't get the joke, she shook her head. "Nevermind. You just seem… uncharacteristically chipper." He opened his mouth to butt in again, but she continued: "Not my business. If you've got a girlfriend, uh, cool." 

She glanced up at him. "Or… boyfriend. I guess boyfriend, 'cuz of your crush on R-" 

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Dennis smoothed, his heart palpitating at even the start of the name. No, damn it, Robby was not going to ruin his confidence this morning. "I get it. Gay joke. Really funny." 

Trinity's brows raised. Maybe he'd been a touch too defensive. She shook her head slowly, competitive smile already forming. "Alright, don't get your panties in a twist. As you obviously know, I am… professionally sanctioned to make gay jokes." She mimed a little bow, dipping like a cartoon princess. 

He stared, not comprehending. Trinity frowned. At the venom of her gaze, he tried to rationalize: "So… they're funny? Because you're… also gay?" 

"Also? I heard an also." She whispered, newly delighted. 

Dennis watched her incredulously. Her humor was kind of adolescent, especially her whole sticking-with-the-Dennis-is-gay-lol-narrative-to-make-fun-of-him-even-though-it's-not-even-an-insult-because-he's-literally-admitted-to-having-a-crush-on-a-man thing. "Uh- whatever, yeah, sure. Right. Can we go to work now?" 

"And there's his can-do attitude! Yeah, sure, let's fuckin' go." Trinity patted his back and started out the door towards the car. Dennis watched her, shaking his head. He followed. 

Dennis ducked into the passenger's side, mind on the upcoming day, and nearly startled out of his skin when she turned on the car and it immediately started blasting "Funky Music Sho' 'Nuff Turns Me On". He'd recognize it anywhere. 

He turned towards Trinity, incredulous, and shouted over the music, "Are you serious? Really?" 

She grinned from opposite him in the driver's seat, fake-coy. "Isn't this, like, your favorite song?" 

He opened his mouth, then closed it. "Well- it's my ringtone, yeah. But it's not-" He broke off in a sigh. His tone was a lot more sassy than he had intended it to be, yet another symptom of being around Trinity. 

And if she was trying to break his spirit, it was working. She seemed pleased with herself.  

He almost sat there for an hour, pissed off, withstanding the loudest rendition of "Funky Music" humanly possible, before he realized he had free will, particularly free will to press the pause button on her unguarded phone. Dennis scrambled for the phone on the dashboard, the unfortunate source of similarly unfortunate music, and once he finally clamped his fingers around it, exhaustedly relieved she wasn't trying to stop him, he couldn't stop himself from staring at the screen. He blinked incredulously at the contents of its current playlist. "What- oh my gosh. Is this, like, ten hours?" 

"Of the same song, yeah." Trinity said proudly. "Verrry funky. The idea was it'd cheer you up if you were, like, upset. Again. That, or break your stride, if you were too happy." 

He scowled at her. "You can never be, I don't know, happy with my current emotional, um, state?" 

"Uh, no. I'm notoriously hard to please." She clicked her tongue at him, all attitude on the outside, and turned off the song. He breathed a lengthy sigh of relief, and she frowned. "C'mon, it's not that bad." 

"I just don't like hearing it anymore. It reminds me of… like, I don't know, embarrassing things." 

Trinity smiled faux-sweetly at him. "I knowww… that's why it's funny!" 

He shook his head, still playing straightman, but he couldn't help smiling at her antics. 

The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not tense. Just relaxed. Trinity tended to have that effect overall, even if she could be annoying. Unfortunately, entering the PTMC meant there were a lot more variables that could go astray, particularly her sunny mood concerning him. Another additionally alarming variable, he didn't want to be anywhere near Robby. Robby was probably tired, and, if he did actually talk to anyone but Dana, his voice would be rough with sleep, and his attitude more irritable because of it. Dennis definitely didn't want Robby to snap at him in his deep-voice-made-even-deeper-by-morning. Well… if Dennis was considering being okay with that, it was because of his weird desire for Robby to acknowledge him, not because he enjoyed being yelled at.  

Dennis blinked at the internal lack of confidence in that thought. Right, Dennis? You don't want to be yelled at? 

He couldn't summon anything other than a mental halfhearted shrug. 

Great. Thinking about Robby was going to ruin his good mood for the morning. He should have predicted it. 

Dennis climbed out of the car, already running through his plan to avoid Robby, which was kind of a make-it-up-as-he-went plan. Which meant 'running through it' was also 'coming up with it'. Maybe that was something he had in common with Robby- rush into the problem and find a solution as you go. 

Trinity glanced wryly at him, and somehow even without a smile he knew she was smug about something. Probably him and Robby. Somehow it seemed she was always reading his mind at the most unfortunate times, when she could make a joke out of it. 

It made sense, in a way. A very sad, unfortunate way, because Dennis like most people didn't enjoy being teased as relentlessly as Trinity did. There was a point when it crawled from endearing into extremely frighteningly embarassing. Right now, she could be smug, because she knew, as anyone who knew anything about crushes knew, that Dennis was nervous about seeing Robby. The key details she was missing were specifically why, but that didn't matter much in her ability to make fun of him for it. Which was just… a stellar beginning to a 15-hour shift on a Monday. 

"Could you not make fun of me this morning?" He asked, already knowing what the answer was. 

Trinity gave an unconvincing nod. "Suuure. If you don't do anything funny." 

She found everything he did funny. At least until she was pissed off. For once he considered the concept of making her upset just for the teasing to end. But the last thing he wanted to do was make anyone upset, especially Trinity, so he shelved the thought and decided to grin and bear it for now. 

As they started walking towards the imposing shape of the hospital, he shifted his mind onto the positive. Having conversations with Trinity meant he was less trapped in the echo-chamber-prison that was his internal monologue. She made sure he always needed to be on his feet, not wallowing in his own head. So… that was a bonus.  

He tried out a smile, an awkward curve to the side of his mouth, deciding he would make today a good day. Mindfulness and all that.  

That smile immediately dropped when he spotted Robby, up ahead of them, hanging behind to talk to someone. It looked like a woman, tall and pale, shoulder-length brown hair, bright smile he could see even from here. What most would describe as hot. 

The only hot feeling he got was a sharp burning in his gut, like heartburn but lower. It felt horrible. His headache was back, too, temples throbbing deplorably, causing him to wince a little. 

"Damn." He heard Trinity whisper, low and appreciative. She herself, apparently, wasn't immune to this new woman's charms. 

Dennis guessed he wasn't either. He'd heard people joke that crushes were the worst thing that had ever happened to them, often with rueful smiles on their faces. He agreed on that with regard to Robby, even though his feelings were far dirtier than a 'crush', so he kind of assumed it was happening to him the same way with this beautiful woman. Love at first sight, and all that. That explained the heartburn feeling and the odd desire to figure out what was happening, a sort of why-why-why in time with his heartbeat. 

"D'you think she works here?" Trinity asked, something actually directed towards him and not just a general comment. His throat was a little dry, watching Robby's posture curve in to meet her as he leaned down, evidently listening. He was giving her a lot of attention. 

Throat burning, Dennis guessed he was probably feeling the same way, feeling that need to give attention. She was definitely very pretty. "I know as much as you know." He muttered, voice tilting high at the end like he needed to cough or vomit or both. 

A genuine look of concern flickered across Trinity's face. "You okay, Huckleberry?" 

He sighed at the mention of the nickname. "Yeah. Yeah, just peachy." Unexplainable irritation was crawling into his body, pushing him forward and away from her, instead towards Robby and the new girl. 

Robby smiled- actually smiled- at this woman, not his patient-smile but a full blown laughing-at-a-joke smile, hands resting on his hips comfortably. He was oddly at ease. 

Distantly he heard Trinity mutter a little "hey" as he pushed past her, shoulder bumping into hers, striding faster towards the two of them. In just a couple strides he was there, in the middle of the action, basically breaking up their conversation. 

Robby turned as he approached. "Whitaker." He said, smile fading slightly. A fat shock of shame crumpled Dennis's heart into little pieces. 

"Howdy." He muttered in response, unable to control the part of his brain that formulated normal responses instead of offputting and weirdly Western ones, eyes drifting instead to the woman. So, so beautiful, intelligent eyes flicking to him, slight confusion. Maybe she was dumb. No, Robby wouldn't be buddy-buddy (or more?) with somebody stupid. 

"Um…" She said like a question, not sure how to acknowledge him, turning back to Robby. Robby raised his eyebrows in response, mouth also open like he was having difficulty processing everything.  

"Uh… this is Dr. Whitaker. One of my residents." He managed, gesturing towards Dennis like he wasn't sure what to look at or do. It must've been incredibly awkward. His face burned from being referred to as Robby's. I'll take what I can get, I guess. 

"Dr. Whitaker, this is… my sister, Jess."  

Dennis's eyes widened, heart palpatating, immediate relief flooding through his body. It made sense, too- this woman's bright eyes, pretty smile, the slight gravel in her voice he had heard at the end of whatever she'd been trying to say before he interrupted- 

"Uh, hey, bud." She gave a little wave, more outwardly masculine than he had thought she'd be upon approach. Holy shit, I'm such a dumbass. 

"Is there a particular reason you decided to interrupt, or…?" And there was the irritability he had expected from Robby.  

"No, no, I, um… I just wanted to say… hi?" He basically squeaked. 

Robby stared incredulously at him. "Okay." He drew out the word, eyes flickering with annoyance. "Hi." 

Dennis managed to grit his teeth in possibly the worst awkward smile ever smiled. "Yeahhh. Hi…" 

Jess seemed oddly charmed by him. "You're… what, a first-year? R1?" 

"Uh… uh-huh." Dennis replied, glancing between her and Robby. She definitely wasn't a clone of Robby, but she did have some of his most charming traits. 

Robby actually seemed genuinely annoyed by her, brows furrowed nearly over his eyes. His posture was tense. "Okay, well, great to see you two are getting along. I'm going to go inside and, uh, do my job." He patted her shoulder somewhat dismissively. Jess glanced at Dennis, awkward at the sudden one-on-one, watching Robby's lean form retreat rapidly towards the building. 

"Um… okay, weird. I'm gonna be heading home, now. Nice meeting you, Whitaker." She smiled, tone clipped but surprisingly sweet in the vowels, like she'd spent a 4-month stint in Illinois. 

He could only nod in response, words hardly forming, not sure how to talk to somebody so familiar yet… not. She had the same quizzical headtilt as Robby, the same tic in her jaw, nearly the same stance and posture. She even had a similar gait to him, he noticed, watching her walk away, towards a large truck tucked into the back of the parking lot. The path of his eyes following her landed on a different approaching figure- Trinity. She looked vaguely soggy with sweat, hair the tiniest bit mussed on top with flyaways, all sharp and annoyed. Upon eye contact, she called out to him-  

"Dude, what- why'd you do that?" Her voice was high with exasperation. "What's the rush?" 

"I got curious." He replied, more like a question, glancing around embarrassedly. He didn't know how to explain what had happened even to himself, forget explaining it to Trinity. 

"Okay? You pushed me, Fuckleberry. What's wrong with you?" Her eyes were bright with anger, not the competitive quick-witted anger she adopted around the workplace but anger from a place of hurt, frustration, confusion. 

Dennis sighed shakily, heart hurting from the acid in her voice. "Um- I'm sorry. I got ahead of myself." 

"Uh-huh. That and everything else." Trinity muttered. She walked past him, now, posture tense and pissed. He didn't blame her. He just needed to repair it… later. Dennis had bigger fish to fry, specifically the fish of his paycheck informing him not to show up to work late. 

He felt bad, because of course he felt bad, but maybe muscling his way through this conflict right now- that is, not trying to fix it right now- might let it resolve itself. It was something he felt Robby might do. 

-8:10 AM - 

Dennis had just crossed the threshold of Trauma 3- oh, wrong room, whoops- when a rough hand seized his shoulder. He turned abruptly, heart shuddering in his chest. 

It was Robby, because who else would it be, almost glaring at him with concern. His eyes, dark and oddly wide, flicked over Dennis' body. It gave him the feeling he was supposed to know if he'd done something wrong already. 

"Uh… Dr. Robby?" He asked in prompting, glancing nervously over Robby's face, hating how his voice went high at the end. He was always shrinking himself around Robby, who already towered over him. "Is something wrong?" 

Robby glanced over at him, eyes a bit vacant, concern shrinking to awkward sympathy. Something was on his mind. "Nope. I, uh, wanted to say sorry. For before." He was looking down, like this was a negotiation with a difficult patient, only Dennis wasn't being difficult at all. It was like an apology button had been pushed in his brain before he was ready to actually go through with it. 

Dennis blinked slow, blue-screening, like Trinity's cat blink. "'Sorry'?" 

Robby nodded, more for himself than Dennis, somewhat awkward. "Yeah, 'sorry'. I thought, uh- I don't know, I thought you… never mind." 

The uncertainty in his tone was unsettling, low voice shaky with wariness and a Robby-specific self-deprecation, but no more unsettling than the awkward flush of his face, the slight sweat already mussing his hair. Dennis had never seen Robby stumble through a sentence like this before. Something told him he should probably try to take the reins over this conversation. 

"Uhh… no worries. You can tell me." He tried a charming smile, but it probably looked more dorky than anything. Especially with the way Robby was looking at him, like this was his fault. Dennis almost felt like he was the one who should be sorry. 

"I just, um. I didn't really think it would happen that way. You meeting Jess."

Dennis inhaled slowly, mind turning over the concept, trying to be stable and understanding to foil Robby's sudden shift, which was a lot harder to do than it was to think about. Was his meeting Jess such a big thing in Robby's eyes? 

"Which way?" He asked instead, stepping closer, getting an odd deja vu feeling, like he was at the farm again. It was like he was trying not to scare Robby away. He felt a little like a horse girl, until his brain helpfully spat the concept that if Robby was the metaphorical horse, Dennis would have to ride him. Not a great thing to think about your boss when he's standing right in front of you. Dennis flushed, hesitating to move closer.  

Robby sighed before responding like he was regretting this whole thing, large palms scraping across his face like he was planning on tearing his face off before continuing the apology. "Y'know. In a parking lot. First thing in the morning. Where you have no idea if she's my girlfriend or sister." Dennis flushed even redder at that, hands snapping up to fidget with the neckline of his scrubs from the awkwardness. Had Robby caught on that quickly? 

"I didn't- " He thought about lying, decided against it- "I didn't consider if she was your sister." 

"Oh. So, just, straight-up, you were going to approach my potential girlfriend like that?" Robby asked lightly, and Dennis couldn't tell if he was mad or amused or flattered. A confusing triad of possibilities. 

"Um… yeah? 'Straight-up'… ?" He admitted, tone curving disastrously into a question, making him seem awfully unsure of himself in front of Robby. 

Robby actually laughed at that, flashing one of those laughing-at-a-joke smiles, bright and charming and reassuringly stable again, only Dennis was the joke he was laughing at. And… for that smile, Dennis was okay with being the joke. 

"Okay, well. It was awkward. I don't blame you for, uh, lashing out at change." Robby replied, voice still light with bemusement, smoothing over into his corporate-patient-voice, one reserved for subtle condescension. 

Dennis blinked, biting back a scoff. "I wasn't- I wasn't lashing out. I just wanted to see what was happening." 

Robby raised his eyebrows. "From two inches away? Yeah, okay. Listen, kid, I don't care what reservations you've got for or against me, but as far as you're concerned, I don't care if you get upset at my personal sh- uh, stuff." 

Kid. Dennis thought venomously, and thought even more so about Robby's self-censoring. He hadn't been upset. He'd been curious, curious about himself, curious about whether this woman could be his first strong crush on really any woman, curious on if Robby was single. Curiosity was how he ended up with the thoughts he had, lusty adolescent thoughts that had him holed up in his room, wired headphones pushed firmly into his ears, watching deplorable age gap porn and focusing on the hands of the older man as he pumped his cock until he got so close he felt dizzy. And… back to the point, he was really starting to lose it, he was an adult who didn't need to be coddled. 

Robby watched him, mouth open slightly. Deliriously Dennis noticed the glint of wetness on his tongue, flat in the back of his mouth, and he immediately had to tear his eyes away. Staring at your boss's mouth when he's right in front of you was also not a good idea.  

They held eye contact for an awkward number of extremely charged seconds. Robby was expecting Dennis to say "I forgive you" but Dennis thought his apology was too shitty to merit a reply. 

However, he realized their time together in this very empty room was shrinking, and so he strained desperately for another topic of conversation. "Um… kinda off topic, but I have this headache that's been really bothering me." Completely off topic, actually. He hummed awkwardly at the realization, a short, low little sound that barely cut through Robby's response. 

This statement caught Robby off guard, Dennis could tell by the disarming slant of his posture, too casual, like his body was already out of the room and moving on. "Have you tried Tylenol?" That low voice lifted only slightly with amusement, and Dennis would be lying if he said he didn't think it was a kind of bedroom voice. 

He blinked stupidly, watching slight amusement lift the corners of Robby's mouth. "Uh… no." 

This seemed to be even more amusing. Robby patted Dennis' shoulder, the controlling heat of the touch sending an unconscious shiver through his body. Robby replied, choking back more humor- "That'd, uh, that'd be a good start." 

I'm funny! His brain screamed, jumping up and down like a fan at a Backstreet Boys concert. If the Backstreet Boys looked anything like Robby, maybe he'd be more into them. Actually, they probably looked something like him right now, being older men and all. Dennis couldn't exactly attest to this, as he wasn't a Backstreet Boys superfan, but the point was generally made. 

He focused his attention back on Robby, whose hand still lingered on his shoulder. To think he'd zoned out for even a second while Robby was touching him was… definitely unexpected, probably out-of-character. I'm definitely losing it. He blinked, glancing down at the prominent knuckles of that hand, from what little he could see. Heart thrumming, he looked back up, trying to feign nonchalance. 

Dennis was even more surprised to see the expression on Robby's face- lips parted, eyes dark and huge, like he'd realized something he was previously unaware of.  

Shit. Is there- did he figure it out from just looking at me? 

Robby coughed awkwardly, removing his hand from its incredibly natural and comfortable perch. He ran it instead through his hair, looking down, before glancing back up to Dennis like look where we are now, bud. 

Dennis stared, dumbly, up into his face, eyes wide, heart threatening to pound out of his chest, feeling his hands start to get sweaty. I think I'm gonna be sick. 

"Do you- do you have Tylenol on you?" He choked out stupidly. 

Robby's eyes flicked quickly to him, the eye contact so needlessly intense that Dennis dropped his eyes almost immediately. Robby had no right to look at him like that. His chest felt oddly tight, his breath coming a little heavier. 

"Not… right now. But there's probably a quicker solution." Robby admitted. 

Dennis felt his mind going blank. This was so specific, so oddly personal to him- Robby was offering to fix his headache, in a way besides medicine, and if that didn't sound like the opening statements to some horrible doctor porn he didn't know what it sounded like. Dennis felt he'd reached a new level of degeneracy. 

"Yeah, that'd be great. Sounds good. If you could do that." He said, instead of fix me up, daddy!!!, because he was a closeted degenerate.  

Robby smiled at that, a rueful little thing that told Dennis he hadn't been asking for permission. Which… was a thing Dennis could be normal about. Absolutely, completely and utterly normal about. 

"Alright. Sit down, Whitaker." Staring into Robby's eyes, Dennis slowly backed up and sat down in one of the patient chairs, fighting- horribly enough- giggles, from the sheer stupidity of it all. It was like roleplay. He was the patient, Robby was his doctor, and Dennis was going to pass out if he thought about it any longer. He might have hallucinated it- he might have been hallucinating this whole conversation, actually, because it was so incredibly heartthrobbingly great just to talk to Robby one-on-one even if it was about something stupid- but he heard Robby murmur something, tone curved down like praise, maybe a "good".  

At this point, he's just pandering to my fantasies. He thought in mock-indignation, flustered beyond belief. There's no way he actually said that. He glanced up at Robby, out of his thoughts, saw Robby maintaining eye contact with him. Eyebrows up, mouth slightly open, eyes puppy-dog wide, Robby was looking at him like he was trying to comfort him, trying not to scare him, a look that said there's nothing to be afraid of, which was… again, something he could totally be normal about. 

"Just relax for me." Robby intoned, leaning over to talk in his ear, and Dennis felt he might actually faint or explode or die. He was possibly the least relaxed a person could be. 

A soft laugh, gravelly on the ends, from Robby, noticing, because he was Robby and he noticed everything, that Dennis wasn't relaxed. His eyes were still flicking to what he could see- Robby's dark head out of his peripherals, lean body curved over Dennis like he was the one drawing him in, and, God, it felt good to have all of his attention. 

"Breathe, it's alright." This was like therapy, and part of his brain said he'd probably be able to fall asleep to the sound of Robby's voice, only it made him so goddamn aroused he couldn't think straight. And he was cursing again, in his brain, cursing in Catholic (still cursing), sending a little shock into his heart every time it happened, even accidentally, remnants of the past, the same reasons he felt burning shame just being here now. His mind had discovered run-on sentences and wouldn't let go, adding clauses and more ideas and more connections to everything that he could understand but not fix- the shame, mainly. 

Thick, probing fingers settled against the side of his neck, causing him to snap nearly instantly out of his thoughts, heart hammering. He glanced over for Robby, still only saw his dark hair through his peripherals, and Dennis was basically pining for eye contact at this point. His mouth, Dennis thought dizzily, is right next to my neck. The bump of his pulse throbbed against Robby's fingertips- oh shit he can feel this, he can feel me doing this- and Dennis fought the urge to start breathing exercises to calm down.  

"This is your pulse," Factual, a statement, laced with a peculiar condescending quality that Dennis had to wonder if he was supposed to be mad at this. Robby continued, sliding his hand down towards the valley between Dennis's neck and shoulder- "and this is a place you can put pressure on to help with your headache." His voice was low, tone surprisingly upturned, helpful yet condescending, patronizingly sweet. Dennis felt like a dog. 

Those fingers, too, intimate just touching him- and he's not wearing gloves, is he, oh my god he's not wearing gloves. If he didn't die from this he was going to keel over and faint. Those hands were cold, nearly clinical, and he felt exposed being touched like this, like Robby was examining him, sizing him up. 

"That's what we're gonna do." Robby completed the statement, beginning slow, cold circles over that particular spot, a little farther away from his collarbone. Dennis wasn't sure if it was doing anything for the headache, but he sat still, paralyzed with arousal and a thrilling horror-movie fear. 

It was a few seconds of those thick fingers rubbing circles into his shoulder through the thin material of his scrubs before Robby changed tactics, creeping his thumb and pointer over that same spot- an unremarkable place, in Dennis's opinion, but he was caring more and more about it as this situation carried on- and putting harder pressure. Dennis was briefly aware for about two seconds that Robby was using both hands, now, on both shoulders, before his wonderful time being an outside observer was abruptly pushed inside- he let out a relieved, breathy groan, a thick, choked sound low in his throat, as something clicked and his headache flickered away. 

Immediately his face flushed, and he wished he had the ability to clap a hand over his mouth, except Robby's arms bracketing his body weren't doing much for him in terms of the ability he had to freely gesticulate. It was then he realized Robby's thighs were pressed close to either side of his knee, and unmistakably he felt Robby's cock jump. His traitorous mind flicked into imagining it- jutting up under Robby's scrubs, obvious and embarrassing… and he started on a deplorable train of thought he had to quickly banish in favor of his shocked internal monologue- what the fuck is happening?????? 

"Completely natural." Robby basically choked out, and for a second Dennis thought he was referring to his hardon- whoa okay holy shit- until he realized Robby was probably talking about the moan. Right right right yeah. 

"Sorry." Dennis almost whimpered, on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. People can get hard completely on accident. I mean, it might not even be related to me. No, it definitely was, because it happened right after I made that noise.. buuuut it could be completely and totally coincidental! That would save me the headache! Please? 

"Nope, like I said." Robby muttered, sounding almost tortured. "Nothing to be ashamed of." But if Dennis wasn't ashamed of it, he had been replaced by an alien clone. Maybe the comment was more for Robby himself- an accidental moan at getting your pressure points massaged was probably less shameful than getting hard at the sound of your subordinate moaning- but that would have been… insane, too, Robby trying to convince himself that chubbing up in front of Dennis was okay. No, no, he was losing it, this wasn't about him, and his degeneracy was possibly climbing up even higher on the leaderboard of 'Most Degenerate Degeneracy'. 

Dennis opened his mouth to say something again, wondering deliriously why- oh, fuck, his fingers feel so good right there- Robby was still going if his headache was already gone, but instead of saying words he moaned again, high and keening, as his head began to feel delightfully clear and warm, and the places Robby was touching began to buzz with heat. 

He heard Robby curse this time, a hoarse hissed "fuck", felt his cock twitch through the thin material of both of their scrubs. Dennis cleared his throat, not sure why he was preparing to say something or really what he was planning to say. "You okay, Dr Robby?" He asked, voice wary and cracked with the embarrassment of making all this noise, knowing he probably shouldn't be questioning Robby about this- or really about anything- when he was obviously hard. 

Robby huffed out a laugh. "Just fine, Whitaker." He was grounding himself, crunching down on those last three syllables, probably reminding himself not to be turned on- which was melting Dennis' brain, the thought that he was the subject of inappropriate feelings on Robby's side.  

"Uh… you sure?" And he couldn't stop himself from asking these prying questions even though he already knew the answers, because he wanted Robby to admit to it, to stand up with a hardon in full display, not making excuses, telling him it's your fault and you did this and something along the lines of, deliciously, this is what you do to me. 

"Yes, I'm fucking sure, can you take a goddamn massage without so many questions?" Rhetorical, laced with dangerous frustration, voice hard on the consonants. He was a good actor. Except Dennis wasn't really sure who Robby was acting for. The two of them were both torturously aware of Robby's hardon at this point. 

An uncomfortable beat of silence, those wide fingers still applying firm pressure, an oddly gentle motion when Robby himself was so tense, like his hands and body weren't connected. 

"My headache's gone." Dennis offered softly into the silence, aware, thrill springing up in his lower abdomen, that Robby didn't have time to calm down, that if he was hard he'd have to stalk down the hallway in long strides and get to the bathroom before anyone noticed- and being an attending meant you couldn't go anywhere in the department without being noticed.  

Robby didn't say anything to that, still rubbing concentrated circles into Dennis's shoulders. 

"Are you gonna stop?" His mouth was ahead of him, clingy and begging for reassurance and wanting proof that he meant something, that he'd won. 

"Do you want me to stop?" Robby muttered, voice tired and nearly broken. His hands slowed a bit in their pace. 

"Not… really. It, um, it feels nice." Dennis admitted. Then, before he could help himself- "How long does this last for? Like, once it's done?" Maybe without a headache he'd stop focusing on Robby and be able to do his job. 

"Oh, I don't know." Robby sighed more than said.  

"Are we gonna have to do this again? Later?" Heat curled perplexingly in his stomach, the promise of more. 

"God, does it never end with you?" Robby asked darkly, but he didn't really sound annoyed, more laughing at the situation than anything else. 

"Sorry." Dennis mumbled. He barely had time to suck in another breath before Robby's fingers clamped down onto his face, under his chin, hands colder here than they had been on his shoulder, through his scrubs, thumb digging into the slight hollow under Dennis's cheekbone, holding him in place. It was rough, forceful, way different from the calculated and clinical movement of the pressure, earlier. Robby moved out of his peripheral and made life-ending eye contact with him, all careful and watch what i'm doing, are you paying attention? do you see this?, only this time Dennis couldn't really tear his eyes away like he had before. He pressed his thighs together, like that was any compensation, already feeling his pants starting to tent. 

"Stop fucking apologizing." Robby intoned, more like he was teaching than like he was angry, sending a light shiver up Dennis's spine and causing his dick to stir. 

"I'm-" Dennis choked back the apology. "Uh, I- I didn't mean to." 

"You didn't mean to?" His voice was a bit mocking now, curling high on the edge, patronizing and frustrated.  

It was getting more difficult to breath with the heel of Robby's hand pressed against his neck, eyes on him, voice low. Dennis swallowed against it, wondering if this was going to leave a bruise. 

"Mm-hm." He nodded, instead, a bit too frantic, head movement choppy under the strong clamp of those fingers. He watched Robby's eyes unmistakably dart down to his mouth, and Dennis at this moment felt more pliant than he'd ever felt in his entire life. 

"What were you gonna say, then? No? It doesn't stop? You're always gonna want more?" 

Robby had never talked to him like this before, and this was so intimate Dennis knew Robby had to know, had to have it figured out, seen Dennis for what he was. Shame was piling up harder now, hot like he was being stung. 

He couldn't say anything to that, throat dry, voice broken. His dick was throbbing painfully, untouched and needing to be used. 

Something like a smile washed over Robby's face, something resembling victory, sharp and self-assured. "I'm just messing with you." 

But he wasn't, he hadn't, and deniability at this point was all too plausible. All Dennis could think about was how dry his mouth was, and the way Robby was looking at him, the bracket of Robby's legs around one of his, and the hot guilty pressure settling low in his stomach. 

He was dimly aware he was breathing heavier, now, panting loud and weirdly erotic, breath fanning over Robby's mouth. 

The way Robby was looking at him was sending little shocks into his heart, that same sharp feeling he got when he even thought a curse word, that drone of shut up, stop, keep it down, go away, sending a hot flush of embarassment down his neck for being so loud, yet it was impossible to make himself shut up. Dennis glanced desperately away from Robby, trying to root his eyes on something stable, maybe the wall over Robby's shoulder, and was temporarily blissed out by a glimpse of the curtains pulled over the glass, promising privacy, which meant more, but with a sharp jerk of the wrist holding Dennis's face, the eye contact continued, horribly, embarassingly, devastatingly. Robby's puppy-brown eyes were trained on him, an instruction in of itself. Don't look away. Watch what I'm doing. Stay here. 

He started to say something without a real idea of what, but Robby's hands were starting to shake, and he was giving him a look, now, not scary or paralyzing but soft, concerned, a kicked-puppy look, like he had realized he was doing something bad or wrong and was waiting, tailed tucked between his legs, for Dennis to call him out on it. 

And that gave him a new feeling akin to a retribution, a feeling that matched the masculinity he'd seen in the mirror that morning, a feeling that blithely ignored everything that was wrong with him. A competitive sharpness of desire, leaving his mouth slightly slack, and the hot flood of adrenaline running through him was mercifully free of shame, for once in his life. With shaky hands, and definitely without thinking, he fumbled and grabbed the front of Robby's shirt, fabric straining against his hand, the sudden tautness betraying the rapid expanding and contracting of Robby's chest, pulling him closer with a sharp jerking motion so they were closer than before, breathing into each others' mouths, caught off guard and flushed with adrenaline. 

Dennis was distantly aware that Robby was panicking, eyes wide, breath heavy. His breath tasted like mint, soft and slightly bitter. Robby's eyes flicked down to Dennis's mouth again, painfully obvious and… needy? Dennis definitely recognized the feeling, and that was all he could focus on for fear of actually digesting what was happening to him. All that he could see was Robby, filling up his entire line of sight, slightly shaky and wary and real with fear, real with the understanding that he didn't know how to continue. 

And Dennis was the last person who should have been trusted with Robby like this, because this didn't make sense- Robby's hand clamping over his face, holding him in place, but Dennis somehow being the one to pull him closer. Who had control seemed inappropriately irrelevant. Robby was shaky and his eyes were pleading for help, which was almost laughable- sweet, pathetic Dennis, the one that Robby knew and wanted, couldn't have known how to take control, how to continue. So Robby knew, then, he knew what type of person Dennis was, he knew that Dennis was a pervert who couldn't stop wanting, wanting this, wanting Robby, wanting- 

Dennis felt the familiar curl of hot shame in his stomach, threatening to drown out his arousal and adrenaline. He groaned exasperatedly and pulled Robby in for the final two inches, jamming his eyes shut, allowing the slick press of their mouths together to dissolve his fear- and hopefully Robby's. 

Only it didn't go how he expected, Robby's rough hands squeezed over his face so hard his mouth was forced open, and the heel of that massive hand caused him to splutter as he temporarily struggled with breath, the fat hot weight of Robby's tongue pushing into his mouth. His eyes fluttered open, but his split-second instinct to jerk back and away was utterly prevented by Robby holding him in place.  

After I make the first move, he's not scared anymore? Dennis wondered dizzily. Or was that a ploy? His intelligent thoughts were dissolving fast. Robby's mouth pushed firmly against his in the exact opposite of a chaste kiss, forcing Dennis forward to take tongue and spit and hot breath. Robby moaned into his mouth, his opposite hand cupping the back of Dennis's head- his hands are so fucking big, ugh- holding him forcefully in position. It was very different from the relatively virginal kisses he'd experienced before, but then again the girls he'd kissed before weren't extremely pent-up and sexually frustrated 6'1" grown men. Or just men. In general. Robby's my first gay kiss. I can be very normal about that. 

He fumbled with what to do with his hands, his dick twitching pathetically below as he tried not to moan and whimper into Robby's mouth like he was starved, even though Robby was more than enthusiastic about making noise himself. Dennis wasn't really sure if he could be embarassed at a time like this, but despite it all, he had found something to feel shameful about. Great going… 

Robby's hand slid off of his face, forcing a choked little gasp out of Dennis, embarassingly enough, and instead his hand moved to a sort of soothing motion, linked with the other buried into Dennis's hair, so Robby had total control over the movement of Dennis's head. It was very possessive. And… also extremely hot. 

Paralyzed, Dennis wasn't sure what to do at all. He was just kind of sitting there and taking it. He knew somewhere he was supposed to be egotistically internalizing Robby's entire body leaning into him, but he really couldn't focus on that right now. Something was telling him he should be trying to take the reins on this, but the idea of taking control back from Robby was insanely laughable. 

The sweet drone of Robby's voice, mouth pressed close into his, snapped Dennis abruptly out of his thoughts. Robby was praising him- he'd learned to recognize that tone from anything, his ears practically perked up to the sound of it, even if it wasn't even praise directed towards him.  

"Good boy, there we go, lean into it." Robby murmured, and Dennis felt like he was being struck by lightning. He didn't even deserve this praise- Robby was the one forcing him to lean forward. It was almost sadistic, the sweetly patronizing tone of Robby's voice, because he knew Dennis was thinking I don't deserve this and he decided to prove him right. Giving him what he wanted, even though he didn't mean it. 

He should have been mad about it, but it was just really hot. Dennis groaned frantically into Robby's mouth, mind full of images of fucking himself down on Robby's thick fingers, the low croon of that voice cooing at Dennis like he was a puppy, telling him good, good, keep doing that, like it was anything but instinct. 

At that point he was panting into Robby's mouth, forcing the spread of his thighs into a more closed shape until he realized Robby had slid his leg up during the process so it was torturously wedged against Dennis's hardon. He didn't want to look down at himself, he knew there was probably a wet spot where the precum was gathering, he'd always been slick and dangerously messy. The current situation was definitely encouraging his tendency to cum untouched. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, please let him touch me before I cum… He thought pathetically, the most pathetic thought he'd ever had in his entire life, which was saying something. 

"You gonna cum?" Robby asked against his mouth, and Dennis' professional and unprofessional wires were already so dangerously crossed that what Robby was doing could only be described as twisting them and tying them in knots. His tone sounded casual, like it was just a normal day, like he was asking if Dennis had any more questions for a patient or asking him for a differential diagnosis. That knocked open a trapdoor in him, that taut snap, like a rubberband, of wrongness, and Dennis shuddered desperately as his cock jumped against Robby's thigh, spurting cum all over the inside of his poor scrub pants and ruining any chance he had to pretend he had control. "Uh-God, oh my God, oh, fuck, Robby-" He gasped, heart pounding with the warning of blasphemy, bad bad bad wrong wrong, and yet the wrongness of everything was somehow only getting him off more. What the actual fuck is wrong with me. 

Robby didn't care, he was doing that soothing motion again, nearly cradling Dennis' head. His heart nearly bulged out of his chest, but he was determined to keep his last bit of dignity and assure himself it wasn't romantic, Robby just wanted him sexually, it wasn't anything serious or worthy of meaning or kind. His breathing was unsteady and weak, he was shaking like he'd been left in the cold. In other words, reaching a new peak of pathetic. 

"You okay?" Robby asked lightly in his ear. The gentleness of his tone was definitely not helping.  

He couldn't find the words for a 'yes' that sounded affirmative enough, so he just nodded. He was starting to feel like a bobblehead. 

Robby stood, looking down on him, and Dennis felt a wave of fresh shame spread through his body. He was weak, susceptable, still shaking even when it was over. Robby was stoic, collected, almost like nothing had happened. I should be like that. I shouldn't want this. 

Until his eyes dropped down to Robby's hips, where his dick still jutted out against his scrub pants. Dennis looked back up, slowly, mouth slack, a voyeuristic arousal creeping through him, like this wasn't something meant for him. 

"Do you mind, um…" Robby managed, voice dipping low with embarassment. Dennis blinked, barely comprehending. He started nodding again, blinking rapidly.  

"Y- uh, yeah, yeah. I mean- no, I don't- I don't mind." He stumbled through words, lips unusually dry. "Uh…. what d'you want me to do?" 

Robby breathed out sharply, a masochistic sigh of relief. "Anything you want." It was awkward, vowels drawn out, tinged with self-deprecation, and Dennis wouldn't have been surprised if Robby had chosen to just walk out of the room with a hardon. Except he couldn't, because they were at work. 

That realization also scared off any ideas Dennis had about running away. By some miracle, Robby could get it up and keep it there, and the two of them were stuck until that problem was resolved.  

Also, another problem. Anything I want.  

"Could you, um… " His immediate thought was get on your knees, but asking Robby to get on his knees to get off seemed horrible and Dennis felt more sympathetic than aroused. He didn't want to embarrass the guy. 

Robby raised his eyebrows in prompting, jaw ticking with annoyance at Dennis' trailoff. "Just come up with something." 

Weirdly Dennis felt like laughing. Robby was trying to be intimidating, voice slightly shaky with need, hardon clearly visible. He wanted this. 

"Okay, well, relax." He replied, hating the laugh bubbling behind the words, hating, really, that he'd responded at all. 

"Are-" Robby looked like he was going to pass out, and probably not in a good way. "Are you sassing me?" 

"You did it first." Dennis blurted out, and felt immediate regret as he did with most things he said to Robby. 

"Whitaker." Robby muttered. "Please. I don't want to talk about this- or, really, at all, right now. Can you just…" He gestured blankly, awkward. Sharp regret and embarrassment bled through into his voice. He probably hated this- the vulnerability, the effort he needed to put in, the lack of control over Dennis. 

Dennis was just enjoying the desperation practically breaking his voice. Actually, enjoying was probably a bit of an understatement. How am I still horny right now???? 

He gave a small nod instead of saying the horrible things he was thinking and stood in front of Robby. "Okay. Yeah. Sorry." 

He half-expected Robby to grab him and throw him against the wall for apologizing, a bolt of panic causing his muscles to freeze up for a second. But Robby didn't seem to care, he was too distracted by his own hardon. Something to be grateful for. 

"Alright." He sighed quietly, trying to ground himself, glancing occasionally up at Robby. Robby was looking away, he couldn't bring himself to look down at what was happening. 

Dennis reached between their bodies and took Robby's cock in his dominant hand, the one he used to pump his own cock. He minorly adjusted his grip, already rationalizing it into a task like he did for himself just to take his needs away, and blanked when Robby groaned, low and needy. It sounded way hotter out loud in the air then pressed against his mouth, and Dennis felt positively sick with the notion that he even got to make that comparison. He stopped, unsure and basically paralyzed. 

"Fuck, c'mon, don't stop now." Robby gasped, voice high with what was either exasperated laughter or a choked off sob. Either way it was extremely desperate and Dennis would have been lying to say it wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever heard. Even through clothes, Robby was practically humping his hand. Robby humping anything was definitely something he needed to think about more often. 

"Uh, okay, okay…" Dennis muttered, feeling a wave of anxiety run through him. He'd never jerked off anyone besides himself before, and he definitely didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Robby any more than he already had. Those were honestly the most rational worries he could think about right now. 

Slowly, he started to push down the waistband of Robby's pants, eyes practically popping out of his head at the wide expanse of skin revealed. Robby's skin was soft, dusted over with thick dark hair, and the sight of his lower abdomen (something Dennis had only really ever seen on the offchance Robby's shirt hiked up) slipping slowly into sight was mind-numbingly erotic. Robby's body had been off-limits, taboo, something he wasn't supposed to see or think about, and now having it be exposed so fast was threatening his throbbing temples with a headache. 

"Uhhh…" He started, more like a question or a warning like help me I don't know what to do with all of you. 

"Please." Robby breathed instead of helping him, which only overwhelmed him more. Dennis felt Robby's cock jump against his hand again, and realized with a jolt this was getting Robby off also. That was… something. Definitely something he could work with. If… that was something people said. His own sexual incompetence was starting to scare even himself. 

Dennis fumbled with Robby's pants and pulled his cock out, breathing out a low hiss of breath at the sight of it, which was oddly affirming to that missing masculinity he'd been looking for. His reaction sounded more like it was for a car rather than for his attending's frankly huge cock. It made him sound like he knew what he was doing, like he was barely affected by this whole thing. Even though he definitely was… 

He heard Robby start to say something, probably begging him to just get on with it already, and Dennis decided frantically to shut him up before he had to suffer through another incredibly toe-curlingly attractive pleading monologue. He started, slow, wrapping both hands over Robby's cock before realizing he didn't have much to use as lubrication. "Uh, do you have…?" 

"No, why would I- just fucking spit on it." 

Dennis's mouth went slack again. "You want me to…" 

"Dennis, c'mon, baby." Robby groaned pathetically, firmly not looking at him, just a reckless voice in his ear, guiding him through it. He doesn't want to make himself apart of this, Dennis guessed. 

His brain was blue screening. Firstnamefirstnamefirstname. "Right." He looked back down at Robby's cock. "Right, right, yeah, okay, uh…" 

He lifted one hand, hesitating a bit before finally spitting on it. It was a weird sensation, something he'd never had to do for himself before, and deliriously he wished it was Robby's saliva dripping down his arm instead of his own. Slowly he brought it back to Robby's cock and started to jerk him off. 

Internally he thought to himself he probably wasn't very good at this. Even pretending he was jerking himself off didn't really help, because he felt more embarrassed than frantic and he really didn't want to mess this up. Being minorly embarrassed was the most he could bring himself to feel right now, he didn't know how to behave, he'd never been told what to do when you're thumbing another man's cock and you have to use two hands because he's so big and he's your attending and he's the subject of all of your horrible depraved fantasies. 

Robby seemed tense- well, obviously, but more tense than just feeling good- and Dennis started to wonder if he was regretting this. He didn't have much experience in general, but especially with what communication was or was not sexy during sex. 

"I'm sorry." He breathed, still working his hands tightly over Robby's cock. "I didn't- I just want this to be good for you." He tried warily for eye contact. 

Robby bowed his head, panting heavily, eyes wide, hair mussed delightfully. "It'll be even better if you keep talking." He muttered, voice lowering as his proximity to Dennis increased, breath hitching with each upstroke. 

Dennis blinked, mentally straining for any praise he could find. "Okay... okay, yeah. Uh… you're- you're really smart. And- good at this." 

Robby shot him a frustrated glare, which Dennis felt was sort of unfair. He didn't know how this thing was supposed to go. Except Robby glaring at him while clearly so worked up was also incredibly hot. It reminded him distantly of some Twitter thread he'd scrolled about 'brat taming', except he'd always thought he'd be the brat in that scenario. Not that he was particularly… like that… but he definitely had never thought he'd be the, uh, other thing. The dom? Whatever. Here Robby was, giving him attitude in only the most sexual of ways, and he had no idea how to deal with it. Does this even count as brat taming? I don't think I'm doing a very good job at taming him. He winced at the wording. 

Distracted and utterly lost, he tried to gather his thoughts. "Sorry. I don't really… talk like that." 

"Yeah, I know. Oh, fuck." 

Robby's voice was definitely broken now, he sounded almost hurt. Familiarity with each other was chasing them even when they feigned like this could be something different. Dennis was trying not to be a degenerate about the broken hiss in the back of Robby's throat, like he'd blown his voice out screaming. 

"You, uh, you sound really good right now." He admitted. 

Robby glanced sharply at him. They both absorbed the slick sounds of Dennis jerking him off before Dennis realized he had to correct himself. 

"I mean- your voice. This… uh, sounds good, too, obviously, but I meant- your voice. Like this." 

Robby nodded in response to that, which gave Dennis the warm impression he was doing something right. He opened his mouth, heart humming with oh fuck oh yes i did it oh my gosh and desperately scrabbled to keep it going, keep it good. "I- uh- I guess it's good, 'cause you're caught off guard. I'm so used to you being on top of things, that I, uh…" He was utterly distracted by the very literal thought of Robby being on top of anything. 

"Me too." Robby gasped, ending in a choked off laugh. "Feels like I'm making you do this." 

"Wh- uh, no. No, I want this. Just, uh…" Dennis trailed off, shame forming even hotter at the immediacy of his answer, how that must make him look. Maybe it would be better if he was just the impressionable resident getting taken advantage of by his superior. 

Well, that was more hot than depressing, so he needed to snap himself back into focus. "Yeah." He finished lamely. 

Robby hummed in acknowledgement, chest heaving slightly with effort, finally looking down to where Dennis was touching him. Weirdly he seemed appreciative, like they were in a Fifty-Shades-relationship and Dennis was wearing what Robby'd asked him to wear. That was a scenario he also needed to imagine more often. Wear that dress tonight, all domineering, only Dennis had never really given mind to wearing a dress before… was that something Robby was into? Too many variables. 

Robby's voice curved low with that obvious praise tone- "You do this a lot?"

It was so appealing he wondered if Robby was acting again. Dennis gathered he meant what he was doing with his hands. "Uh… to myself." 

Robby's body seemed to tense even more, breathing slowing but getting sharper. "Really? You don't have someone else? Boyfriend, maybe?" 

Dennis actually laughed at that, a sad little laugh that ended quickly. "No." 

Robby kept quiet for a beat, only breathing laboredly through thrusting himself into the ring of Dennis' fingers. "Good." was the reply, monosyllabic but layered with that thick stomach-twisting domineering power that sent warm shocks through his whole body. 

"Girlfriend?' Another reply, quieter, and he could have laughed, only they both knew Robby was dead serious. 

"No, I promise, no." He desperately formulated a response, something witty that showed he was self-aware and experienced- "Are we… are we making small talk over your dick?" 

He watched the line of Robby's throat throb uncomfortably as he swallowed. Apparently bringing attention to the situation wasn't the sexiest thing to do. Robby didn't have to reprimand him.  

"Sorry." He managed lamely, barely a breath, shoulders slumping but keeping his eyes trained up on Robby's face, seeking the approval he needed. 

Robby barely nodded an acknowledgement, body basically pitching forward into Dennis' hands, giving small little whimpers and moans from the movement. Okay, so maybe what'd he'd said was sexy? Or maybe it was a forbidden taboo kinda thing? Robby was so utterly mysterious. 

But Robby's moans were getting lower and breathier, he was getting lost in it, going in and out of the moment so fast Dennis couldn't tell if he was imagining something else. Or someone else. 

That twisted his stomach slightly. He hoped- well, if Robby wanted to use him to just get out his sexual frustrations, then he figured he might as well oblige- but he hoped he was the cause of those frustrations. Especially in this moment he didn't want to share. 

But, he thought, sliding his hands over Robby's cock, he was willing to compromise. If having Robby meant he had to compete with some imaginary woman, he'd grin and bear it. If he needed to share Robby with a real woman he'd agree. Or really anyone. If he had to share he would. It was a scary feeling, letting Robby have so much jurisdiction over what he was and was not okay with. 

He doesn't have to know that, though. He thought, greedily, guilt pumping through his veins. He'll just take what I give him. 

Robby gasped out a loud groan as if he could hear Dennis' thoughts, breath fogging warmly against his face. He wanted to lean closer and get more of it, huff and inhale all of him, get high off of the power he had. He felt like he was completely out of his body. 

The next thing that snapped him abruptly back to earth was the hot spurt of cum against his hands. Robby was moaning, breathing wrecked, barely choking out curses. There was more he wanted to say, Dennis could tell, but he was holding himself back. That was alarming. Something unusual and competitive in the back of his head whispered he needed to try harder to break Robby out of his shell. 

There was a beat where he just stared at the shiny mess all over his hands. Painting or marking territory didn't seem to cover it. 

"Oh." Robby muttered, staring down at the mess he'd made. "We should, uh…" 

Keep going, was Dennis' first thought. Second was the more rational reply, clean this up. Instead of saying anything he just stared up at Robby. 

Robby sighed, looking firmly away from Dennis again and pulling up his pants, putting away the beautiful expanse of stomach and lower chest, and at that moment, Dennis wanted to rip all of his clothes off and take a million pictures just to remember that it had happened, and it had happened to him, and that it wasn't just something that could be put away and forgotten about. 

"Robby-" He started, not sure what the protocol was for this or what he was supposed to say. 

"Please," Robby deadpanned, jaw ticking slightly in a wince- he begged me please with my hands wrapped around his dick- "don't do that. Just- it's Dr. Robby, alright?" 

Nononono don't leave me his brain screamed, but he said, "Okay. Yeah. Dr. Robby." 

Robby opened his mouth, something forming like a 'good boy' but he stopped himself and muttered a venomous, tortured "Thank you." 

Oh, he's mad. He's so mad. Dennis thought with the odd victory of reading a situation correctly, then immediately followed with Wait, why is he mad? What did I do? 

"R- Dr. Robby?" He tried again, extra syllables flat and uncomfortable in his mouth.  

Robby didn't look at him when he left. 

Dennis was left, then, in his stained scrub pants and with his sticky hands, in that empty room, dead alone and entirely perplexed. There was something different happening inside him, too, rather than the desperate feelings of how do i fix it how do i mend this, he just felt… angry. 

And anger was not something he was used to. That was Trinity's- hell, even Langdon's forte. This was a cathartic, numbing sort of anger that muted the shame, muted his need for compassion. He just felt chafed, rubbed raw and out of place and wronged.  

He tried to scrub the anger away along with Robby's cum all over his hands in the sink, but it didn't work. Dennis tried to screw his mind onto getting his hands clean, focusing on washing it away, but Robby was sticking to him and so was the thought that he left me like this, he fucking left me and he's mad and i didn't do anything, why is he angry at me i should be angry at him… 

Washing his pants was another issue. Was he supposed to run across the ED with no pants or stained pants to the scrub dispenser? Death honestly seemed preferable. He hadn't even gotten the chance to ask Robby to grab him some, but now he was being utterly tortured and not in a fun sexy way. At least he assumed there was a fun sexy way. 

Maybe it would have been fun and sexy if he wasn't so angry. Robby needed to talk to him, to tell him if he was doing something right or wrong and open up to him. Robby needed to stop running scared. 

He just had to pray that somebody nice like Mel would walk in and offer to help. Maybe if he splashed water on the front he could say he spilled something. 

Frantic and scrambling, hearing the bustle of people outside, he gathered some water from the sink on shaky hands and fingers and rubbed down the front of his stained pants. They were mostly fine except for where the precum had leaked through as a sharp stained bead of liquid, but he couldn't leave it because there was nothing that left such a specific stain besides… sexual stuff. And this was work- we did this at work, oh my gosh. 

Shame, that old friend, had looped back and was slapping him along with anger. It was a 2v1 at this point. 

Dennis groaned, putting his head in his damp (but thankfully clean) hands, and sank against the far wall away from the sink. 

How am I going to explain this…? 

He sat there for a beat just simmering in his own shame and misery, but the feeling had nowhere to go and he just felt stuck. I need to punch something. Or someone. 

Instead of punching anything, something he had little to no experience in doing, he stood and walked to the door, where the curtains had only been slightly swished away from Robby's exit. Out of the blue he spotted Trinity emerging from a patient's room looking vaguely ruffled and pissed off. Her customary sweeping glance around the ED landed on him, and with a jolt he adopted an awkward smile and flickered a wave in her direction. 

Trinity's brows raised and she beelined immediately for him, which was the opposite of his initial intention. He scrambled somewhat stupidly to hide behind the curtain, but she'd already seen him and was pushing open the door. 

"Uhh- n-no, you don't need to-" Dennis started, like he had any control over her, holding his hands pathetically out in front of him, but she was in the room in the span of two seconds anyway with her entire body prompting him, leaned forward, arms extended, eyebrows raised like well? 

"Huckleberry…" She started, basically monotone, eyes wide and obviously suspicious. "What're you doing?" 

He laughed nervously, which only made him look more suspicious. Dennis cleared his throat at her expression to cut the laughter and responded- "Nothing." 

Trinity blinked. "Nothing?" She was starting to sound like Garcia. Authoritative tone, slightly holier-than-thou attitude… it suited her, but it was also incredibly obvious she was attempting to replicate her girlfriend's behavior. It twisted the familiar knife in his gut- that hollow worry he felt for the two of them, for Trinity who cared so much and tried not to show it, for Garcia who acted like she knew how these things worked and didn't know Trinity well enough to know they might not be good for each other. Trinity was still staring at him in prompting. 

"Uh, nope. Nothing." He repeated, eyes ticking over her shoulder absentmindedly to see if he could spot Robby's lean form. It was a habit that gave him guilt, now, something in his head reminding him stay mad at him don't let him trick you again. 

"So why are- did you piss yourself or something?" Wow, okay. She was trying not to laugh at him. 

"No…" Dennis started awkwardly, embarassed frustration threatening to bring his headache back for probably the thirteenth time this morning. "I spilled water." 

She squinted, smile starting to form, shaking it off with a matching shake of her head, trying to be intimidating and serious without knowing her laughing teasingly at his misery was also still intimidating. "That's- you're being weird, you know that, right?" 

Right, I know, I'm sorry. "No, I'm not. I'm being normal." He insisted lamely. 

Trinity actually laughed at that, a little upturned breath of air that reminded him of Langdon, cocky and Top-Gun-cool. Had the other doctors really rubbed off on her that much? "Stop bullshitting. Why are your- are you okay?"  

An excellent redirect, way too excellent. Dennis sighed, a sad dog sigh, and it had escaped him before he knew what he was doing or that sighing was a pretty obvious answer. 

Her hands were on her hips. "So… no." 

She was doing a lot of compensation for his lack of response. "I don't really want to, um, talk about it? Could you just- get me some new pants?" 

Now Trinity was doing a horrible job smothering her smile. Her smugness at catching him was burning a hole in his anxious heart like the cigarette burns lesbians had from putting them out on each other. He half-wondered if Trinity had any of those. Her voice cut through his thoughts- "Sure. Fine. But when I get back, you're telling me the truth." 

He nodded distractedly as she went to exit the room, and blinked, utterly perplexed, when she turned back and held out her hand. "Wait, I need your tag." 

Dennis, now embarassedly comprehending, looked down at his newly updated tag. Doctor. Eugh. "Right, sorry." He unclipped it somewhat clumsily and handed it to her. 

Trinity flashed him a smug little smile and pushed open the door, walking quickly towards the scrub dispenser. 

At least she's not mad at me anymore…? He thought perplexedly, watching her walk away. 

While she was gone he tried not to think about Robby or his hands or his low voice or the way he'd moaned with Dennis' hands around his cock or the way he'd begged please with his eyes wide and his head thrown back and the soft dark hair on his stomach or the way his brows furrowed in pain when he would bend over for too long but he kept pushing himself anyway, like he wanted the pain, like he thought he deserved it. But, of course, if you tell yourself not to think about pink elephants, you're going to think about pink elephants. 

It took a while before Trinity came back cradling a neat little pile, hair ruffled like it had been before, and she more pissed off than usual, if such a thing was possible. "I got your scrubs, Fuckle." 

He blinked slowly at the new nickname as she shoved the scrubs into his arms. "Wow. Great… thanks." 

She gave him another passive-aggressive little smile, but Dennis could tell it wasn't him she was mad at. Something else had clearly bothered her. Dismissing his tangle of combination horny-angry thoughts about Robby, he tried instead to focus his attentions on her. 

"So… what happened?" He asked uncomfortably, knowing it was probably what he should say. 

"You first." She said with a sigh, plopping backwards into one of the side chairs in the room. 

Dennis winced. "No thanks." 

Her brows furrowed, frustrated insistence bubbling in front of her obvious embarassment for her own situation. "You said you'd tell me." 

"I didn't say anything. Well- I mean, I nodded." He muttered defensively. 

"I feel like a nod means yes." Faux-thoughtfully, with a finger tapping her chin like she was imitating an Aristotle statue or an old cartoon. He would have laughed as an outsider, but being teased himself he found little to actually laugh about. The most laughter he could sum up was nervous laughter. 

And, besides, he was starting to get tired of her deflections, when it was clear all she needed was to talk. He needed to punch someone or maybe sit with a counselor or several HR reps, and she just needed to spill her guts for a second. One clearly worked before the other. "Who pissed you off at the scrub dispenser?" Dennis pushed. 

"No one." Trinity mumbled, face flushing in a telltale sign that he'd caught on to what happened. "I didn't- oh, for Christ's sake, yeah, I ran into Langdon." 

Langdon. Trinity's feelings on Langdon were complicated. She constantly swiveled between feeling guilty about what she thought was "selling him out" and feeling angry at him for being an asshole. Internally, he sighed, mentally preparing himself. 

"And?" He prompted, already sick of her story and just wanting her to get it all out so he could find somebody to be mean to that wasn't her.  

"And he was very… nice." She basically spat. The front of his mind was telling him this was sarcasm, but something in the odd brightness of her eyes told him it wasn't, that Langdon had actually been nice and that it had pissed her off. 

Playing therapist even though he really didn't want to, Dennis led with the next thing- "So him being nice to you pissed you off… how?" 

"I don't know." She mumbled again, voice incredulous, eyes wide like you tell me, you're so dramatic, you're way overexaggerating this, stop making this an issue, but he knew she did know. Her attempts to throw him off by being holier-than-thou were not working. 

Apparently his expression displayed that, because she bit her lip, gave a little sigh, and admitted- "It seemed fake. Like he was actually mad at me but didn't think it was worth it to say it to my face. I think he blames me, Den." 

They'd gone through the coulda-woulda-shoulda of her reporting Langdon more times than he could count. Trinity had been insistent on rehashing it for a number of weeks before she was finally sure that she wasn't actually at fault. At least talking about her problems with her didn't leave a lot of room in his brain for overthinking his own problems. 

"He probably does, but you were just doing your job." He reassured. "Langdon can be an asshole. Just ignore him." That took a lot more courage to say then he'd thought it would, because something in his brain was saying he'd get in trouble for shit-talking his superior. He couldn't help but remember the fierce and charged eye contact Langdon had intimidated him with literally every time Dennis even remotely challenged him. Those times weren't anything he wanted to repeat. 

Trinity sighed. "That's the problem. He's not an asshole. At least not on the outside, right now. And ignoring him makes me look like the asshole." 

Dennis' mouth firmed into a little line, giving a shrug of his shoulders, as his brain puzzled over the development.  

"C'mon, Huckleberry. What would you do?" 

A nervous laugh bubbled out of his mouth, "I'm not sure you should be taking advice from m-" 

"No, yeah, I should, because nobody thinks you're an asshole. I just-" 

She cut off after that, leaving an awkwardly open echo in the air, an echo of I do care what they think about me. This, he already knew, but it must've felt like hell to almost admit that to herself. 

"Whatever." Trinity supplied, standing up from the chair abruptly, avoiding his eyes. "I don't- you're going to tell me about whatever you did later, I just- I'm gonna get back to work." 

He nodded slowly, fighting a smile at how easy she was to read. Even a small victory was a victory. "Yeah. I should probably do that, too." 

She shot him a glare, annoyed at nothing, like a little girl's stop copying me!!!, as she strode out of the room.  

Pride in himself fading, he looked down at the crumple of pants in his arms with his tag already clipped onto them. The clipping job was done hastily, like Trinity had remembered to do so very late in the process of bringing him back the scrubs. Dennis stared with some dismay as he realized the tag had been clipped to the inseam of the pants. Sooo… not there. 

He remedied it by unclipping it and clipping it again at his approximation of the leg, a.k.a. the normal place to clip your tag. Dennis glanced around the room to make sure the curtains were still closed- they were- and changed out of his water-and-cum-stained pants and into the new pants. 

Dennis looked down at the tag, which dangled now from under his knee. Okay, so I don't have the most solid grasp on where a tag should be clipped if I'm not clipping it on myself. That's not disturbing at all. 

Laughing self-deprecatingly both to and at himself, he fixed the tag again and brushed himself off. 

Duty calls, I guess. 

-10:00 AM - 

Dennis grinned brightly, smacking his gloved hand into a hi-five with Donnie. Their patient had come in bleeding heavily, even after they'd held pressure, so they had worked together and gotten the wounds stitched up. It was a simple suture, but he saw it as a victory, because their patient was actually stabilized, even after he'd gotten essentially covered in blood. Donnie, too, had gotten a spray of blood to the face, but he less so than Dennis. 

"You know, if you had any more blood on you, you'd look like Carrie." Donnie joked, eyes bright with the satisfaction of victory. 

"Uh… isn't that how it works? I feel like getting 'more' blood sprayed onto you makes you look like Carrie, even if you have, like… no blood on you." 

"You know what I mean." Donnie sighed, shaking his head, barely-suppressed smile tinging brightness into his voice. 

Dennis felt he would probably trust Donnie with his life or at least the life of his firstborn child, even if the guy didn't know the logistics between amount of blood on a person and their resemblance to the Stephen King novel's titular character. Not that that was something Dennis was really knowledgeable about, either. 

"The adaptations never really hit for me." Joy admitted, crossing into the room, rubbing hand sanitizer onto her hands. Dennis blinked at her. 

"Aren't you- do you have somewhere to be?" He tried not to make his tone sound too mean, but it was sort of impossible given the words he was saying. Not that it would really bother Joy, but it bothered him. 

"No, no, I want to hear this." Donnie interjected, turning towards her, inviting in his typical way, one of the many reasons Dennis had admired him since the beginning of working in the Pitt. "Why not?" 

Joy seemed delighted at his interest, an expression Dennis had never seen before lighting up her face even as she played it off as nonchalantly as she could. Her response, coy and curved with a smile- "They didn't make her fat or ugly." 

"Thank you!" Donnie crowed, hand sailing over Dennis' head into another hi-five, this time with Joy, who at this point was practically beaming. 

Dennis watched perplexedly, gaze flicking between them. "Why would they… is that what the book says?" 

Both of them turned on him, Joy's expression betrayed and Donnie's shocked. "You've never read the book?" 

In unison. These twin flames are really something. He blinked. "Uh…no?" 

Joy tutted at him with an authority she technically didn't have. At least it's not Ogilvie doing the tutting. 

Dennis continued, banishing any thought of Ogilvie's annoying self from his mind- "I never thought- is that a common, um, thing? Have a lot of people read the book?" 

Donnie gave him a vague shrug as if to say eh, it doesn't matter. Joy smiled smartly and replied, as if she was bestowing some wisdom upon him- "What matters is I've read it." 

Again with the twin flame stuff. How are these two, like, already best friends?

Dennis nodded slowly, mouth slightly slack with confusion, charmed equally by Donnie and Joy and their utter enthusiasm about this random topic. "Okay. Well, thank you for that, Joy, but I really should get back to work." 

Joy gave him a little nod, smile fading slightly. It was a vulnerability in her that he'd never seen before, and it hurt to brush her off, then, knowing she could be even slightly affected by his dismissiveness. He consoled himself with a she's fine, she'll probably forget about it. As he exited the room he heard Donnie and Joy's conversation pick up. 

So that's the thing that breaks her out of her shell. Cool. He thought to himself. Part of him whispered he should probably know her better by now. Possibly Ogilvie, too.  

He crossed to the bathroom and made quick work of scrubbing his face clean, ignoring his reflection. Things were starting to piss him off more easily than he'd like. Dennis finally made eye contact with himself, relieved to see the blood was gone, and exhaled deeply. Now was not the time to start snapping at one's peers. When he was finally ready (as ready as an emergency department resident could ever be), he pushed open the door to the bathroom. 

As he continued out, towards the board, Dennis got the weird feeling somebody was staring at him. Immediately his paranoid brain racked through which enemies he could possibly have, and he distantly wondered if in another life he'd been assassinated. Of course the only person that had any real reason to watch him was Robby, but it felt like an ego trip to even think Robby might be watching him. That opened up another guilty can of worms- he definitely shouldn't- in any circumstance- want Robby to threateningly watch him, but especially not after the absolute shit show of their last encounter. 

It's probably Langdon. He thought. Maybe he knows I called him an asshole like an hour ago. Somehow he didn't get the impression Langdon was a mind-reader. Regardless, maybe he had a vendetta against Dennis for being friends with Trinity. Or something stupid like that.

Dennis leaned against the desk, keeping his eyes surveying over it for Dana rather than Robby or Langdon or anyone else. The quicker he got put onto another case the quicker he wouldn't have to deal with anyone else's bull. Unless he got put into a case with Robby or Langdon… 

Maybe I can make a special request. He thought meekly, swallowing. Dana likes me. She'd probably allow it. He was fooling himself, of course. 

He didn't see Dana, but out of his peripherals he caught Langdon coming up next to him to also lean on the desk. Shit. 

Dennis looked up over at Langdon, thinking If he's here then he's not the one who was watching me, and managed an awkward smile. 

Langdon didn't seem to notice, very much focused towards the board. He seemed less energetic than usual, not buzzing with that highly-competent go-go-go energy Dennis was so used to. I guess this is what he's like when he's sober? 

"You, uh… you need help with anything?" Dennis asked lamely, knowing already that no, Langdon was over here to find something to do, and he would have asked for help already if he needed it. 

Langdon glanced over, jaw tightening slightly. Oh. Did that read as me not trusting him? Dennis didn't want a repeat of their previous tense interactions in the other past shifts. He didn't believe Trinity's assertion that every shift was a blank slate. Maybe she'd gotten that from Robby. It was awfully optimistic, in any case. 

"Uh… no." Langdon replied, glancing away from Dennis as if he couldn't be bothered, hair hanging over his face boyishly in a confusing dissonance of maturity. "Do you need help with anything?" 

"No. Donnie and I just finished a suture." He blurted it out before he could stop himself. As if a suture was anything impressive. 

"Nice." was the automatic response, more impressed than Dennis deserved, tilted with Langdon's same familiar enthusiasm of getting something right, that bullseye, baby! tone that separated people into really loving him or really hating him. He was a weirdly polarizing guy. For all of Trinity's faults, it seemed like most of the staff agreed on liking her than liking Langdon. But Dennis could have been biased. 

With the weirdly comrade-y energy in the air, Dennis almost thought Langdon was going to clap him on the back, but that was too familiar of a move and too handsy (Robby's handsy, real fucking handsy) for the two of them. It was an awkward rift, both a dissonance of being unfamiliar with each other and being on two sides of Robby. It always circled back to Robby at some point. 

"So, uh…" Dennis started again, shifting awkwardly against the counter. Langdon looked over at him in a vaguely challenging way, like why are you still talking to me you better have something good to say. 

Dennis frowned nervously. "…you, uh, planning on going anywhere after your shift?" 

Langdon grinned, bright and shiny and white, effectively foiling Dennis' awkwardness. Blindingly perfect. In a stupid, sick way, Dennis could tell he'd been the favorite for a long time. It made his stomach hurt. 

"Home." came the sardonic reply, followed by a look that made Dennis feel like it was his first day on Earth. Langdon was stellar with condescension, actually, and it was horrible to have such condescension directed onto him. They'd been fine, even friendly after Louie died, but it seemed like maybe Langdon was regressing into his old ways again. 

"Me too." Dennis managed.  

Langdon raised his eyebrows. "With Santos, huh? What's that like?" 

Part of Dennis was thrilled to be engaging him in conversation, the other part was horrified to discuss Trinity with her kind-of sworn enemy. "Uh… fine. She thinks I'm weird, probably, but it's fine." 

Judging by Langdon's expression, he felt the same. "She wouldn't be wrong." He muttered, smile curving the words, yet not as positive or sunny as Donnie and more of a haha-i-got-you kind of smile, something that bragged I know you. 

Dennis could only sort of awkwardly laugh at that. Langdon's gaze and posture was probing, and even his innocent questions seemed like some kind of violation (and not the fun sexy kind). And how would Langdon know? Authority tended to do that- make assumptions where they weren't needed, generalizations to make a person more one-sided and therefore easier to swallow. It was easier to watch him than it was to talk to him. Out of his peripherals he could see Langdon was pleased with his response, though, so maybe he was getting somewhere. 

"Uh, yeah. She says I'm weirder than some people think." And that was too much information. Utterly true but too much. 

Langdon didn't seem to care in the least about his elaboration. "Would that be a compliment?" 

Dennis shrugged, more truthful than was probably necessary. "I guess, from her. Santos-" and it was incredibly weird to refer to his best friend by her last name now that he was so used to her first- "tends to do the whole 'tough love' thing." It curved up like a question at the end. 

Langdon actually tilted his head at that, eyes bright, brows furrowed in concentration, the picture of a focused doctor. "Seriously?" He huffed out a little laugh in disbelief, ruffling the strands falling over his eyes. 

I think that's fairly obvious, yeah. Dennis thought, but instead he said, "Uh huh. Y'know, she…can be, uh, kinda mean, but…" 

"All in good fun, right?" There was a uniquely snarky edge backing into Langdon's tone, displaying maybe his questions weren't centered only around professional curiousity and maybe an actual vendetta. Dennis was weirdly relieved he wasn't completely exaggerating the senior resident's hostility in his mind. 

Dennis sighed instead of running away screaming. "Pretty much. Are you staying to, uh, help the night shift?" An admittedly tactless topic switch, but Langdon took the bait, which meant Dennis was safe from the subject of Trinity, at least for now. 

"It's only, what, 10:30?" Langdon replied, eyes darting concernedly down to his watch. Dennis caught sight of his NA bracelet with the motion, clamped firmly around his wrist like a medal. When they made eye contact again Dennis knew Langdon had seen him looking at the bracelet and the air around them had changed into that vague are you threatening me buzz, like Dennis had insulted him just by bothering to glance at his wrist. If Langdon wasn't a mind-reader, he must've been a telepath, because Dennis was being very intensely tele-intimidated. Which was a strong contender for the stupidest phrase he'd ever thought of.  

Langdon cleared his throat, quiet and weirdly scary. "Yeah. I wouldn't worry about that right now. We'll see if we get any problems." 

Dennis nodded slowly, wondering do we have a problem but more like a scared puppy than like Heather Chandler from Heathers. Wow, his mind was really in the 70s-80s girl flicks today… 

Then a voice behind them- "Dr. Langdon! Hi!" 

They both turned to see Mel, practically beaming, yet calm and deeply in her element. She seemed to be more cheery now that her deposition was over. Distantly Dennis thought all my coworkers are morning people except for me. 

"And- and Dr. Whitaker. Also." She managed to him, smile curving somewhat apologetically. He smiled back and shook his head as if to say no problem. Dennis was still having a hard time getting used to the whole actual Dr. title thing. 

Langdon glanced down at him, body swiveling in a turn now towards him, mouth slightly open in what could have been a smile or another disbelieving huff of breath, as in oh, yeah, I forgot you were an actual doctor. He managed to condescend without saying anything. How Mel didn't notice was beyond Dennis' understanding. It was probably because he didn't condescend to her. That change in Langdon's behavior almost made Dennis wish he could be like Mel, so he wouldn't have to suffer through every interaction with the guy. 

"I, uh, I noticed you two were standing there." She said, hand moving into a little pointing gesture towards them probably beyond her notice. Mel sometimes talked with her hands, even when she might not be aware of it, which was something Dennis thought was endearing and was pleased to have noticed by himself. Noticing people's unconscious habits made him feel like a more empathetic person.

"Yeah, we were just talking about what we we're going to do after our shift." Langdon interjected, hand coming down on Dennis' shoulder suddenly but not suddenly enough that he would have any reason to flinch, other than the handsy-ness of the gesture (which definitely didn't seem friendly or even exciting like Robby's touches). Wait, no, he wasn't supposed to be thinking about Robby anymore.

Langdon was sticking to the word 'we' all the sudden, which was odd. Dennis had mixed feelings about Langdon, probably because of Trinity. He respected the guy and wanted to impress him, but at the same time he could be awful condescending and distractingly not-humble. He wasn't sure how to feel about the hand pressing into his shoulder. 

Mel tilted her head, interested, and then for good measure added the question- "What are you going to do?" 

Dennis managed an awkward smile, eyes flicking up to Langdon, trying to eye-communicate It's okay, we don't have to play buddy-buddy, you can take your hand off of me. "I was just asking Dr. Langdon if he was going to help out the night shift once our shift is over." 

Now it was Mel's turn to call him out, only hers was more curious and double-check-y than Langdon's condescension. "Isn't it a little early? We don't know what's going to happen today."  

"Excellent observation, Dr. King, and I was just saying the same thing." Langdon replied, gaze sharp towards the back of Dennis' neck. It pissed Dennis off that Langdon constantly swiveled between treating him like a colleague and treating him like a subordinate. Why had he decided to turn on him now? Was it Robby? 

"I'm going to find something to do." Dennis mumbled, glancing around, shooting Mel a little nod. 

Langdon feigned nonchalance, giving Dennis a little nod as if replicating what he'd given Mel, the pressure of his hand still burning into Dennis' shoulder like a slap. 

Dennis flashed Langdon a passive-aggressive little smile a-la Trinity and shrugged the hand off his shoulder, turning sharply to walk around the desks and to the other side of the board, where he could lean against the desk in peace. Admittedly a petty move, but at least he was away from Intimidation Station. 

He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, looking down at his hands against the desk's lifted edge, how one of his wrists still had the watch-tanline from when he'd first started working at the farm. His hands were more calloused, some cuts still healing even after he'd removed the plaster and the bandaids.  

"You alright, Huckleberry?" Rang the sweet sound of Trinity's voice from behind him. He actually smiled, looking over at her.  

"Yeah, yeah. I just had to get away from Langdon." 

She grinned. "Don't we all." 

The two of them peered over the desks at Mel and Langdon. Langdon was rigid and tense, every part of his body leaning away from Mel and towards the action of a new patient getting wheeled in- chest pain, shortness of breath, and Dennis wondered maybe I can get on that case, too- but for some reason Langdon was still staying standing with Mel without really listening to her talk. Mel had started to notice and looked a little crestfallen. 

"God. Can't he just go do it if he wants to leave so bad?" Trinity whispered, voice laced with frustration. 

"I mean… maybe he thinks it's nicer to Mel if he stays to talk to her?"  

"He's just being an asshole." She muttered like a mantra. "But, I mean, whatever. I'm not supposed to get involved with him." 

Dennis glanced over at her sharply. "Get involved?" 

He watched with slight horror as Trinity flushed at that, shaking her head like a dog getting rid of water. "Not- I'm not supposed to criticize him to his face, is what I mean." 

He blinked slowly. "And… did you decide this, or…? 

Another voice, low and tinged with humor from behind them- "No. Doctor's orders." 

For the second time, he spun around to see who'd approached, but this time he was almost horrified to see Robby. He felt Trinity visibly cheer up next to him, just happy to see Robby again. He would have been lying to say he didn't feel the same way, but it made him feel like a kicked dog that kept coming back for scraps after Robby'd been so avoidant before.

"Dr. Robby! We were just- uh- watching the board." Trinity muttered sheepishly, suppressed smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, propping her elbow on the desk's surface and leaning her head against it, trying to play it cool and failing. She and Robby had grown a lot closer since after his sabbatical and it made Dennis wish he didn't feel the way he did about Robby, because that made things a whole lot more awkward. For everyone. 

He hadn't seen Robby in an hour, probably. His heart felt like it was being torn into tiny little pieces. And yet he was still angry. 

Robby shook his head at Trinity, reassuring hand rising to gesture. "It is… a-okay. I was also watching the board." 

Dennis watched him, heat and anger and confusion swirling around in his stomach like flies trapped in a dishwasher. 

Mouth open in a confident little huff of breath, Robby turned to face Dennis, eyes sharp like I dare you to say something, but also there was a distinct slump of his shoulders that displayed some kind of hidden apology. Robby's feelings were weirdly out in the open. 

"Dr. Whitaker." Robby nodded to him, eyes saying something Dennis couldn't understand, maybe don't say something weird or I love you I'm sorry. Maybe Robby was conflicted about this too. 

For some reason Dennis couldn't summon a good attitude. "Dr. Robinavitch." He tilted his chin up in acknowledgement rather than a full nod, suprising himself by managing the full name a lot easier than he would have on the first week or even a couple of hours ago. The syllables were unfamiliar, and tasted acrid on his tongue, like he was promising to be ultra-professional even against Robby's wishes (or his own). He was calm and collected on the outside, boiling over on the inside, and such strong cognitive dissonance felt close to hell. But it did feel really good to watch Robby's eyes widen. 

Out of his peripherals he felt Trinity stiffen, glancing over at Dennis and giving him a look like hey hello it's Robby be nice???? Dennis just managed a vaguely chilly smile in Robby's direction, focusing his attention forward. 

Robby's eyes went from widened in shock to sharpened. Dennis could almost hear his thoughts- Oh, so that's how you wanna play it, huh? 

They held eye contact longer than what was probably professional. Robby's gaze almost made him back down, as if Robby were telling him down, boy, but Dennis continued looking at him defiantly. He was distantly aware Robby was smiling at him and he was smiling back, but there was absolutely nothing friendly in the whole 5 seconds they were staring at each other. 

Trinity mouthed what the fuck to herself and turned back to the board. Dennis hit Robby with another Trinity-style passive-aggressive smile. Robby cocked his head to the side, slightly, eyebrows furrowing down, mouth opening into an smiled huff of disbelief that both horrified and excited Dennis. Neither were feelings he needed to have about Robby right now. Mentally he slapped himself. 

A rough hand came down on his shoulder, aggressively controlled, and it could have been a slap or a forceful hand grabbing his heart. Maybe it was both, mentally. Robby squeezed down on his shoulder twice, a gesture reminiscient of somebody's 50-something father getting too familiar with the Hooter's waitress (which made Dennis the waitress? he wasn't sure how to feel about that).

Robby walked away, footsteps ominously drifting away from the two who remained leaning against the desk on this side. 

Dennis' shoulder burned, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling, proud of himself. 

"So, what the fuck is happening? Care to enlighten me? Are you and he… like, arguing?" Trinity whispered, hushed and intense, slightly interrupting his moment. 

"We're looking at the board." Dennis murmured evasively, marinating in his self-pride for showing Robby up. 

"Right…" She replied, holding out the vowel with a dosage of vocal fry heavy enough to cook a Happy Meal, the universal I don't believe you. "That's- I'm going to go help with that new patient. Cheers. I guess."  

He nodded at Trinity as she left, but she didn't notice, already moving on. Her posture was slumped and she seemed utterly put-off by he and Robby's interaction. Maybe she thought it would put Robby in a bad mood and ruin her rep with him. He didn't entirely blame her for worrying about that. He probably would have done the same in her place. 

Dennis had barely gotten another moment of peace in his zoning-out-looking-at-the-board-but-not-actually-reading-the-board paradise when somebody else came up next to him.  

McKay's voice- "What's happening with Robby, kid?" 

He blinked at her straightforwardness, mentally readjusting back to reality. "Hi, Dr. McKay. Uh- nothing." 

She smiled at him in acknowledgement, newly dark hair hanging over her eyes, but there was still lingering question in her expression. Dennis wasn't even surprised she'd clocked the tense eye contact. 

He gave her a small shrug, slightly paralyzed. 

McKay sighed, staring into his face, already dropping the thread. "Well. If something is happening, or… if something happens, please come and talk to me." 

He opened his mouth to respond but couldn't really find the words. 

And she walked away.

Dennis blinked to himself again. What does she know about Robby? And what does it look like? I mean, she doesn't seem, like, concerned for my safety, but what does she think happened? 

He turned to watch her walk away. Whatever she thinks, she's probably right. Maybe I am that obvious. 

Now Dennis felt kind of stupid. Was it worth getting everybody worried just because he was mad at Robby for not communicating in their problematic HR violation of a relationship? Robby, who was kind of notorious for not communicating? 

He sighed to himself. Being mad at Robby for things he actually did wrong was fun, in a horror-movie-scared-fun kind of way, and his behavior actually affected Robby- it upset him, made him mad, got him riled up. And hating on Robby, even in the incredibly homoerotic way that he was feeling right now, made him feel better about himself. To think he actually had something to say or something to stand up against was fun and exciting. He kind of understood why Trinity enjoyed being defiant, for once. 

Oddly, he was enjoying this new change in their relationship. 

Dennis was by himself for a while before he actively turned his attention to the board. It hadn't been updated to reveal any newer patients, but he half-wondered if he could go help somebody else. He was uncharacteristically excited, thinking he could help Robby, not in that desperate I-need-to-prove-myself way but in a distinctly competitive way. Showing Robby up wasn't an option, obviously, because Dennis was way less experienced than he was, but getting on Robby's nerves by being purposefully over-professional or chilly was definitely an option. A weirdly appealing option. It shocked him how quickly he'd come to enjoy it. 

Maybe now is the time that we stop thinking so much. Dennis thought to himself, head spinning slightly.  

He spotted Al-Hashimi weaving through a group of patients, Ogilvie at her heel, probably trying to prove himself, and Dennis made a sharp right in the other direction. He'd have to find a room and just go in. Admittedly a risky move, but there were some things he just needed to avoid today. 

Something alerted him to Robby coming from the other direction, in front of the paramedics wheeling in another patient. Robby was calling out, hands gesturing quickly as he directed people on which way to go and what jobs to do, striding almost backwards in confident steps, hair delightfully mussed by effort, eyes quick and dark and beautiful. Dennis had to admit he was a little starstruck. 

Robby glanced over at him, mouth firming into a hard line noticeably at their eye contact. He glanced away fast, before Dennis had the option to, leaving a guilty burning residue in the deep part of his stomach. Somehow Robby'd invented a new type of shame to torture him with. Internal as he was, Dennis himself couldn't even rationalize it. Dismissive and unaffected and utterly uncaring. 

Audibly, Dennis scoffed. He strode over, stomach twisting, and nabbed the second corner of the stretcher before anyone else could approach to help. Langdon, tryhard that he was, was already over at one of the opposite corners, but Dennis didn't pay him any attention and stared at the back of Robby's neck so hard he probably burned a hole through his esophagus. 

Robby looked up as if he was going to call more doctors over, until he noticed Langdon and Dennis already pushing the stretcher. He couldn't have looked any more disappointed.

Dennis glanced over at Langdon, who was still looking despondently at Robby, mouth open slightly like an orphaned puppy. His eyes flicked over to Dennis and he gave him a sad little look like poor me, or poor us. For once Dennis had to agree. 

They finished pushing and got the stretcher into a room. At this point Dennis was just following Robby's lead; he'd been too busy staring to listen to what Dana was saying, so he didn't really know where they were going or who this guy was. Langdon was too good at improv to be obvious about not knowing what to do, but Dennis wasn't nearly as adaptable or spacially aware. The wheels squeaked and squealed multiple times as Dennis had to clunkily redirect his path to follow where Robby and Langdon were pushing. The whole thing was incredibly demeaning to his front of showing up Robby. 

Dennis distracted himself in the ritual of 1-2-3-lift for a few blissful seconds before he was forced to reckon with the elephant in the room. Or… should he say the extremely hot elephant in the room? No, calling him an elephant seemed a little cruel. The extremely hot attending. And… also Langdon. Langdon didn't get a metaphor, he was just Langdon. 

"Something on your mind, Dr. Whitaker?" Robby's low voice cut through his internal monologue, and Dennis blinked back into reality, greeted by the horrifying sight of Langdon and Robby side-eyeing him together. 

"Uh… no." Dennis mumbled lamely, mentally slapping himself for losing focus. 

"Okay, well, let's get started, then." And Robby was off to work, doing something Robby hadn't explained to him yet. Of course perfect golden boy Langdon was also onboard and perfectly in sync with the plan, and it was only clumsy little Dennis who didn't know what was happening. Langdon didn't even spare him an apologetic look this time.

Dennis sighed wearily and leaned in to watch them. Robby was propping up the patient's head. The guy was unconscious. Langdon was checking his pupils. "Equal and reactive." Langdon supplied dutifully, eyes wide, watching Robby with trained and careful interest. 

Robby looked at Dennis instead of Langdon, sharply and warning and everything Dennis was afraid of. He glanced over at Langdon and murmured, "Good." 

And Langdon melted. The guy was practically panting for any scrap of praise, which Robby definitely knew by now, and now he was just dishing it out in front of Dennis' face and sparing him the necessary detail, thereby eliminating him from getting any chance at recieiving praise himself.

It's on purpose, isn't it. He wants me to see how being his least favorite feels. 

And despite himself, Dennis could not let Langdon win. "Anything I can do, Dr. Robby?" He asked, looking up at Robby with something Trinity called his 'patented fuck-me-puppy eyes'. Not the way he would have put it, but surprisingly the simple expression (the facial expression, not the phrase) was very helpful in getting he and Trinity into clubs. The usual nickname for Robby felt comfortable and soft to say; gave him a sharp little spike of joy and familiarity. Guiltily he felt like he was fixing it, fixing the two of them, even though overcompensating was something that was supposed to be off limits. But he couldn't help himself. 

Robby gave him a little nod, eyes darting away before Dennis could gauge his expression. Langdon glanced between them. Then at a glance from Robby he was back to it- "Uh, Dr. Whitaker, come over here." 

Dennis nodded, grateful to be included, and scooched around the stretcher. He knew Robby was behind him, every bone in his body buzzing with the awareness of he's right there, he's behind me, what's he going to do, crazy meek little thoughts that had entirely occupied his mind on his first day in the ED that he'd thought until now were gone. 

Joyously, Dennis felt Robby's large palm cup behind his neck, clinically cold yet warm with reassurance. As much of an oxymoron as that might be. In order to not completely thirdwheel Langdon the hand quickly dropped from its position, but of course Langdon noticed everything these days, because he was watching Robby's reactions like a hawk.

Robby's breath fanned invasively against the side of his neck, and softly he heard- 

"Good boy, Den." A sharp jolt rocketed up Dennis' spine. Robby was just activating Dennis like a sleeper agent at this point.

Langdon definitely saw Dennis' eyes widen, and in turn he watched Langdon's jaw set. He started to feel a little dizzy, hardon likely starting to form. Oh, we are such an HR nightmare… 

Instead of frowning, though, which would be the normal reaction to watching your boss flirt with your colleague, Langdon smiled to himself, a cruel little smile. 

He definitely didn't hear what Robby said.  Dennis thought guiltily, biting back embarrassed laughter. Langdon probably thought, what with Dennis' prey-animal way of being aroused, that Robby'd threatened him. Dennis felt impossibly grateful that nobody could see him waistdown, otherwise that assumption would have been immediately disproven. Actually, maybe not. He was getting into weird shit these days.

Dennis blinked, screwing his mind onto actually focusing on whatever procedure he was supposed to be doing.  

"You wanna check for pulse, now?" Robby reminded him, voice light with bemusement, like he was enjoying watching Dennis lose his mind. 

Dennis nodded flusteredly and moved in to check. Behind him he heard Langdon- "It's like he's a student again." He was probably leaning into Robby, eyes wide like please notice me aren't I funny and good at everything? Robby actually didn't reply, making Dennis smile to himself with glee. 

But now he should probably focus on finding what was actually wrong with the guy. Okay, we do have a pulse… 

-11:20 AM- 

Dennis smiled to himself as the patient was wheeled out to surgery, gratefully mumbling thanks. He began to stride out of the room, spring in his step both from the patient's recovery and from Robby's praise towards him. He nearly bounded out of the room and towards the board again but on his way out a cold hand clamped around his arm. 

Dizzily Dennis noticed how big the hand was wrapped around his forearm- Robby's hand, obviously- before looking up to address the sudden contact.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you." Robby whispered, something that would have been disarmingly weird if dead serious but, when tinged with humor, was somehow flustering and humiliating. 

Dennis looked up at him. The first words to reply that came to mind were Fuck you, but that seemed hardly appropriate. He half-considered giving a little scoff and replying, "Tell that to Langdon", before turning on his heel and strutting away. Instead he affixed his fuck-me puppy eyes and tried to play dumb. "Dr. Robby?" He murmured, using Robby's name as a question, looking stupidly between the hand on his arm and Robby's dark smiling eyes.  

He watched in real time as Robby began to doubt himself. Unmistakably, too, he watched Robby's eyes glaze slightly with something like desire. 

Dennis bit back a shudder at the change in his expression. Instead he just continued staring at Robby, watching his face half-anxiously and half-hopefully.  

"You-" Robby started, voice a shaky question, eyes searching Dennis'.  

Dennis ventured to continue playing dumb, and lifted the arm Robby was holding up to chest-level, so the two of them only had to glance down at the contact to see it was there. It was possibly the dumbest he'd ever played. He cocked his head at Robby, a little nonverbal "?".  

Robby let go, embarrassed. "Okay, then. Just- watch how you talk around Dr. Langdon." 

Dennis blinked. "I didn't- did I do something wrong, sir?" He felt a little ridiculous, like he was pretending to be a knight or something. 

Robby opened his mouth, then closed it, stalling, except more literally like an engine would stall, with a low rumbling "Uhhhhh…", before he cleared his throat and flashed Dennis a Trinity-special-smile. "N- you know what, forget it. I appreciate your help with the procedure."  

With that Robby essentially ducked away from him, speed-walking again like he was afraid. Dennis' brow furrowed as he stood there, blinking to himself. He'd have to experiment with the whole 'sir' thing. 

-12:25 PM- 

He'd actively stopped for his unofficial lunch break in the break room when he heard the sound of Robby's voice coming around the corner. He sounded happy. Dennis reflected wearily that Robby didn't normally sound that happy. For some reason his heart was saying that was a bad thing. 

Dennis had spent the majority of his time with patients, actually getting time to be focused without Robby hanging over his shoulder. That was one reason he enjoyed having another attending. And Dr. Al-Hashimi wasn't all bad. 

But now Robby was coming around the corner like Mike Myers in Halloween and Dennis had to prepare himself. He wasn't sure if he was sweating out of anxiety or because the AC in the room hadn't been fixed yet. Either way, it wasn't a pleasant feeling, and he struggled to appear collected and cool while simultaneously trying to make sure his hair didn't frizz. 

First to walk through the door was Dana, rubbing the space between her eyebrows and looking incredibly tired. Dennis didn't blame her. Robby followed after Dana, bright and happy and cocky. He'd probably made a joke, before, and Dennis had enough insecurity to feel a little left out. 

Robby spotted Dennis already in the room and his smile faded slightly. Dennis felt his heart give a little leap despite himself. 

Dana didn't bother to address Dennis at first and just crossed over to the coffeepot, pouring herself a cup. Dennis thought of Donnie and his coffee habits. Maybe everyone here is addicted to caffeine and they only seem like morning people. Sadly no theory he could come up with accurately explained the habits of his coworkers. 

Unfortunately Dana's coffee-making meant Robby and Dennis were left awkwardly staring at each other. 

Dana looked up from the coffeepot and glanced between them. A judgemental look passed over her face, followed by the tug of a smirk, but she didn't say anything. 

"Uh… Dr. Robby." Dennis nodded in greeting. Every time he said hi to the guy he thought of his chilly salutation a couple hours earlier and winced. 

Robby managed a little smile. "Dr. Whitaker. You, uh… getting up to anything?" 

Getting up to. He makes me sound like a teenager with a dirtbike. Dennis tried to hold back his grin. "No?" 

Dana gave a busy little sigh, walking over to the doorframe of the room while both Robby and Dennis were temporarily distracted by her. She looked up from her coffee cup and gave them a little look like don't mind me. 

Robby coughed uncomfortably and turned back to Dennis, stepping forward as to make their conversation more private. Dana wasn't that much of a gossip but her judgemental looks were enough, probably worse than the ruining of one's reputation. 

"I, uh- I wanted to apologize. For what I said earlier. And how I…" Robby glanced around warily. "…behaved." 

Dennis blinked, then smoothed his face over with what he hoped was a reassuring expression. "Oh, no, it's okay. I don't blame you for being, uh, frustrated." He offered a nervous little smile. 

Robby nodded slowly. "Right. Well. I usually treat my residents better than that. So… I'm sorry." 

Don't be sorry, you're really hot and your dick is amazing. I mean, it looks amazing. I haven't gotten the chance to experience it. Have I mentioned you're hot? "Uh… it's okay. Again." 

Robby's mouth opened in slight surprise, and Dennis realized with a jolt that probably sounded like he was giving attitude.  

"N- wait, no, no, sorry, I wasn't- I meant I already-"  

Robby cut him off. "Don't apologize to me. I'm apologizing to you." 

"Uh- okay. Yeah. Sorry." He stammered. 

"Ah-ah. I said no apologizing. Yeah?" And Robby was talking to him like he was a dog who'd misbehaved. Dennis' throat went unreasonably dry. 

"Right, yeah. Sorr- Um, yeah." Dennis scrambled to correct himself again. 

Robby patted him on the shoulder. Dennis stared up at him, wondering how in the span of 2-or-so hours Robby had gone from torturedly begging for a handjob to ordering him around. 

"So… what do I say to that?" He mumbled weakly, trying for a joking tone. 

"Whatever you were saying before but without the 'sorry'." Robby replied, scratching the back of his neck, glancing over at Dana like he was waiting for her to go away. 

Dana didn't look up from her coffee, still avidly sipping. She noticed Robby looking and glanced up, tilting her head in a cocky little what do you want from me, man? Robby looked away. 

Dennis glanced between them, then continued to Robby anxiously. "Oh- uh, okay. I… I don't blame you for being frustrated. Lashing out at change and all that." 

Again he'd gotten ahead of himself, earning the full combination-ticked-off-surprised glance from Robby. "Wait, I didn't- I meant- I was talking about before, when you said…" He allowed himself to trail off when Robby gave him an unconcerned nod, still swaying to look back at Dana. 

From Robby- "Got it. It's alright." 

Another awkward pat on his shoulder, leaving Dennis wondering if maybe he should walk out already. Robby clearly didn't want to talk to him right now. 

He squinted. At least maybe not with Dana in the room. 

Dana blinked at them. She sighed to herself, for whatever reason, and exited the room, leaving them terrifyingly alone. 

Robby watched her leave. He turned back to Dennis. Then, low and private, he started- "We probably shouldn't be alone." 

We. Dennis thought with joy. "The door's open." He mostly blurted out. 

Robby leaned back on his heels, the picture of casual confidence, pausing for some sort of emphasis. "We can close it." 

Again with the 'we'. Dennis glanced nervously between Robby and the door, already feeling his heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement. "Uh- what? Why?" 

Robby was staring at his mouth. Dennis noticed with a jolt of excited anxiety that his pupils were dilated. Low, nearly monotone, he muttered- "If you want to have a private conversation, I mean. Or if you have a headache." 

A headache? 

Robby stared carefully into his face as Dennis tried to think of what he could possibly mean. Maybe I'm so good at playing dumb because I actually am dumb, like, 80% of the time. Especially this morning. 

I had a headache this morning. 

Dennis felt his mouth fall open, face flushing pink, eyes widening. "Oh." He mumbled. "Right." 

Robby nodded, slow, still giving him that measured dark stare. "Mm-hmm. Are you going to close the door?" 

He looked between Robby and his potential exit, mind racing. 

"Yeah." He breathed.  

So Dennis walked over to the door and closed it, feeling Robby behind him, but already he felt panic and shame threatening to engulf his entire stomach- 

"Wait, uh, what if somebody-" walks in, he thought, to complete the sentence, but Robby's mouth was already on his, tongue pushing deeper into his mouth. Despite himself, his worry melted away, and he moaned into Robby's mouth. Robby tensed, aroused, pulling Dennis closer into him, and Dennis felt like he was probably in heaven. They were falling into a rhythm, both straining to remember their first kiss this morning and trying to make it better. At least Dennis was trying to make it better. He wasn't sure of Robby's intentions, because he could never really be sure, Robby who was mysterious and didn't communicate and needed him more than Dennis could have possibly imagined, even with everything he imagined while jerking himself off.  

Dennis followed what Robby had done for him that morning, letting both of his hands slide up and cup Robby's jaw. Robby licked into his mouth and a confusing tangle of dopamine informed Dennis that this sexual thing was somehow the most romantic Robby had ever been with him. 

He breathed heavier when Robby grabbed his shirt and continued pulling him in. He remembers, Dennis thought dizzily, because how else would Robby know to do that if Dennis hadn't initiated the kiss doing the same thing? It felt so good to be in sync with him, to know exactly what he was doing and what he wanted. It was like Dennis was making up for his bad behavior. 

Robby's leg pushed up into Dennis' hardon and he groaned out loud, the joyous muffle of the kiss broken by Robby's mouth pushing down and off of his to kiss Dennis' neck, only he'd never been kissed like this, full mouth and the fat hot pressure of tongue sliding up and down like Robby was planning on taking a bite out of him.  

"You're so fucking perfect." Robby whispered breathlessly into the column of Dennis' throat, and Dennis cursed himself and his body when his cock twitched in response. This was getting way too out of hand for either of them. 

He almost said that out loud to Robby, flustered excitement creeping up into his chest and towards his throat, making him pant heavily even when his voice was already breaking, but he couldn't say anything when he felt Robby's lips pucker against his neck and spit. That was shocking enough, the fat dribble of warm liquid sliding down his neck, Robby panting into his skin, until Robby followed it up by scraping his tongue up, thick and heavy and purposeful, up Dennis' throat- "oh fuck-"- to lick all of it up, cleaning up his mess, and his tongue was so warm and his mouth was so wet that Dennis would have invited him to bite down, probably would have moaned at the pain and the blood instead of actively freaking out like a normal person would do. He gasped breathlessly at the feeling and the texture and the warmth, pleading whimpers building up in his throat as he just tried to keep even his breathing natural and even, voice breaking desperately as the weight of his own very shameful desire started to crash down on him. 

Robby's mouth climbed back up over the side of Dennis' jaw, thick fingers of one hand moving up to hold him in place, and he felt the two of them were getting lost in it, Robby bent over him; leaning towards him like he was the only person in the entire world, kissing up his face and neck and now back to his mouth, thick fingers tangling in his hair, lean body backing him up against the counter and forcing him there.  

He felt the muscle in Robby's thighs tense and force him into place, too, hard counter jutting into his lower back, and they were hip-to-hip, Dennis' hardon sandwiched between their bodies. He felt Robby getting hard; the press of his cock against Dennis' parted thighs, he heard Robby panting heavily, and dizzily Dennis was aware his throat was still sticky with saliva, barely drying now with the addition of sweat. Robby's hand drifted from his hair down to his lower back as the two of them breathed desperately into each other's mouths, flushed with desire and adrenaline, already starting to sweat, and Dennis groaned embarrassingly loud when Robby's hand cupped his ass. Robby cursed into his mouth in response, hand on his back now pushing up Dennis' shirt, cold fingers on his lower back, causing Dennis to shudder with pleasure and fear and guilt.

Then he gasped weakly when Robby's thick finger dipped between his stomach and his waistband, appealing and threatening and oddly needy.  

"Can I…?" Robby asked softly into his mouth, meaningfully tugging down again on Dennis' waistband. Holy shit. 

Dennis nearly had an orgasm right there- Robby asking to do anything for him was enough, let alone asking or implying jerking him off or whatever the fuck he intended to do with Dennis' pants off. Maybe finger him. Dennis felt positively sick with desire. 

But he hadn't answered the question, so Robby was nodding subtly into his mouth and pulling that hand away. Dennis could almost see what it looked like- Robby's hand dwarfing his back, thick palm taking up the whole space between his lower back and his hipbones. Robby's hands shook slightly, Dennis could tell he was trying to control himself. He scrambled to respond, too lost in it- 

"Fuck, sorry, yes, please, oh God-" and he cut himself off, hot shame burning at the bad, dirty words he was saying, only he couldn't be distracted by that because Robby was rewarding him and reaching for his cock. 

They both looked down and Dennis had to be grateful Robby was taller than him because otherwise they would have bumped foreheads almost immediately. In record time Robby'd pulled his cock out, and it didn't look naughty or out of place here, he looked perfectly normal, even beautiful, crowded up against the counter with Robby's body pressed close to his. Robby didn't hiss between his teeth like Dennis had before, but he did exhale a little louder than normal, at which point Dennis tried to tell himself he could be normal and utterly failed. 

Then that hand wrapped around his dick. It only took one of those huge hands to wrap all the way around him, and that was a dizzyingly attractive thought. He gasped out a moan, flushing at how positively girly he sounded, voice overstimulated and broken and oddly pornstar-y, not that he knew much about female pornstars, considering he didn't really watch that sort of thing, but he definitely knew what a girl-moan sounded like. It shouldn't have gotten him as pervertedly excited as he was, then, sounding so embarassingly overwhelmed with a hand wrapped around his cock. 

Robby hummed a little warning noise, probably telling him too loud, but Dennis had felt his cock jump against his thigh and he was getting really good at reading Robby's aroused body language. The hand just being there was already threatening him with a rapidly approaching freight-train of an orgasm, but Robby's hand started moving and Dennis had to strain not to throw his head back and moan, giving up on biting his tongue, choosing instead to slam his head into Robby's shoulder to muffle his noise. 

Then Robby's other hand clamped around his face, roughly forcing him away from the comforting plane of shoulder, fingers digging into the space under his cheekbones on either side, forcing his mouth open slightly in the process, subsequently forcing out the soft pathetic gasps that he'd attempted to muffle. Robby's hand continued lazily pumping his cock, and Dennis felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his head, warm shudders spreading through his whole body. He made real eye contact with Robby, who was watching him like he was teaching him something, big dark eyes saying keep your eyes here, watch me. And Dennis did, he kept his eyes desperately trained on Robby even as his embarassingly fast orgasm started. 

He started to say Robby's name but instead he choked out a nickname he'd heard Abbot use on occasion, only saying it now was utterly out of place and invasive. Dennis breathed, "oh, Mikey-", eyelids fluttering with the intensity of his approaching orgasm, head spinning, face burning with the filthiness of it. Robby's face went blank, then his mouth fell open, eyes already glazed over with lust now blinking rapidly with surprise. 

Staring into those dark eyes, Dennis' face flushed wearily as he finally came, cock swollen and pink with effort, cum splattering all over Robby's wide fingers and the swatch of skin and dark hair peeking out from Robby's accidentally-hiked-up shirt. Robby bit his lip, cock jumping yet again, eyes flooded with arousal as he watched Dennis orgasm onto his fingers. 

"Good boy." Robby whispered, voice broken, heel of his hand grazing the sensitive tip of Dennis' dick as his hand pulled away.  

Dennis stared stupidly into Robby's face. It took them a beat of silence to react, frozen still in the moment. Then, as if challenging him, Robby lifted his hand casually up to his mouth and proceeded to lick Dennis' cum off of his palm and from between his fingers. Dennis flushed bright red, unable to tear his eyes away. 

Robby dropped his hand, now avoiding eye contact again. Dennis coughed and awkwardly readjusted himself, pulling up his pants and trying to prepare for pretending he had a shred of decency. 

When he was properly situated, he glanced down, at the tent in Robby's pants, head still spinning, trying to breathe even. He flushed when he looked back up and Robby was looking at him again. 

Robby sighed, glancing down at himself. "We'll address… this… later." 

Dennis blinked and looked back up at him, rational thought starting to come back to him in pieces. "But you- how are you gonna…?" 

"Don't worry about me." Robby replied, patting Dennis' cheek condescendingly with the licked-clean hand. It might have been in teasing way, Dennis couldn't tell, he was starting to get off to the way Robby talked to him regardless of intent. 

"Yeah." He responded lamely, throat dry, eyes tracking to the offending hand, at the same time so utterly content with his orgasm he wanted to stretch out and smile like a cat in a patch of sunlight. It was, in fact, that serious. 

Robby hesitated for a second, eyes saying, just like last time, that he wanted to say or do more, but he didn't. Instead Robby took off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist to temporarily hide his hardon- oh my god his arms look so good. 

The Dennis stared perplexedly at the whole ordeal, realization dawning on him. He could have done that before, though. He didn't have to let me touch him this morning. 

Robby avoided eye contact and strode faux-casually out of the room. 

Jaw slack, Dennis rubbed the back of his neck, sweaty and content and oddly excited. He'd managed to not fumble a sexual encounter with Robby, and- oh, thank God he'd finished before anyone walked in. They'd been private. And.. Robby had let him do something not out of necessity but out of desire. 

And also he didn't say anything about the 'Mikey' thing. Thank God.

He startled when the door creaked open and Trinity poked her head into the room. "Anyone- oh. Hey, Huckleberry." 

"Hi-" He started, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. "Uh, hi." 

Trinity didn't even bother to supress her snort at his voice crack. "You all alone in here?" 

Now, yeah. You should've seen before. Actually maybe not. "Yes. Are you… looking for, uh, something?" He stepped away from the counter, trying to keep himself from stumbling on shaky legs. 

Trinity's eyes smiled as her face stayed relatively monotone. "No. Are you?" 

Dennis glanced around. "Uh, no. Not anymore. I-uh, I guess I should head back to work." 

Trinity squinted. "Why do you always say that whenever I walk in on you being alone in a room?" 

Dennis blinked; shrugged, sweat starting to drip down the back of his neck. "Coincidence?" 

"Good answer. I need to catch up with my charting, can you take this rash guy?" 

Dennis started towards her as they walked out of the break room together. "Rash guy?" 

"Yeah, I mean, he's got a rash. He'll definitely tell you more about that." 

At Dennis' expression, she elaborated- "Really chatty." 

He blinked. "Huh." 

-1:45 PM- 

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry!" Dennis hissed through his teeth, fumbling awkwardly with the bandages to clamp them down into place over the now gushing wound. He and Trinity had moved on from the rash guy, getting him discharged with some allergy medicine, and now they had moved to a (presently) more urgent patient- a woman who'd come in with chest pain and was now bleeding extremely heavily. 

"Did CT come back?" Trinity asked him, voice jumping into nearly-yelling-but-not-quite-regions. 

"Not yet." Dennis shook his head and tried to hold pressure, breathing unevenly with surprise. 

"Fuck. We had dullness to percussion." Trinity turned and started shouting directions, eyes wide. Dennis looked down, away from her, remembering their laidback persual of the patient's symptoms with an uncomfortable wince. 

Eventually, with the help of Perlah pushing supplies in, they managed to get the chest tube in and began draining blood. Robby strode in at the last second and watched them, shaking his head when he spotted the blood on the floor. Dennis felt Robby's eyes flick to him as he leaned down to check the placement of the IVs. He noticed that Robby continued staring at him even as he straightened up. 

They made eye contact and Robby just blinked at him. Dennis tilted his head, breathing a little unsteady. Why is he still staring…? 

Robby made a 'there's-something-on-your-face' gesture, pointing awkwardly to his own face. Dennis blushed and lifted his hand to wipe his face- 

"N- wait, no, don't do that, please." Robby intoned like he was about to become extremely exasperated with everyone in the room, crossing towards Dennis and catching his wrist before he went through with the motion. 

"Uh…" Dennis blinked. 

Trinity looked over at him and gave an uncomfortable smile. "Blood on your face, buddy. You're a walking biohazard." 

Dennis frowned, only now really becoming aware of the sticky feeling on his face. Shit. 

"I'll walk you to the bathroom." Robby muttered, tone uniquely sweet with sarcasm. He yanked Dennis by the wrist out of the room and to the bathroom. 

Walking me like a dog. He might as well put a leash on me. Okay. Why is that so interesting to me all of the sudden? What is happening to me?? 

"Wash up." Robby muttered to him, finally releasing his grip on Dennis' wrist and basically pushing him towards the sink. 

Part of Dennis wanted to pout and say fiiiiine like a moody teenager. Instead he just nodded and got to work, wincing at his reflection in the mirror. The second time today he'd gotten blood on his face. Reminds me of my first day, too. Good times. 

"You really need to be more careful." Robby's voice bounced around the walls. His tone was casual, like he couldn't be bothered to engage any further than small talk or reprimanding lecture, but Dennis' traitorous memory was making it difficult to believe him. Every time Robby opened his mouth, Dennis couldn't help but think about their 'moment' in the break room.  

"I know, I-" He started, turning to face Robby, but closed his mouth immediately when Robby interrupted- "I'm not finished." 

Dennis nodded awkwardly and allowed Robby to continue, shame prodding into the lower part of his stomach. 

Robby continued, "You're a good doctor, Whitaker, but you really need to start erring on the side of caution. How many times a shift do you change your scrubs?" 

Dennis opened his mouth to respond but the only real sound that came out was something resembling a lawn mower. Robby watched him comfortably, arms crossed. "Rhetorical question, you don't need to respond. Just think about it." 

He could only close his mouth and nod dumbly at that. Robby was still watching him. Dennis swallowed. 

"It's very important that you learn to avoid getting fluids all over you." Robby was staring, now, and that combined with the incredibly suggestive words he was saying stirred the beginnings of a headache into Dennis' temples. 

"Can I…?" Dennis asked, pointing lamely to his mouth. Can I talk now? 

Robby gave him a nod. Dennis noticed with interest that his pupils were incredibly dilated. Just like before. 

"How would I do that?" He asked, shoulders slumping down, awkward with the embarrassment that came with asking to talk and then not having anything important to say. 

Robby either didn't mind or didn't care. "You could lean out of the way." He muttered. His voice had started to carry amusement even if he was being incredibly deadpan. 

Yet Robby was saying incredibly suggestive things while they were alone. Robby was the last person Dennis would call “oblivious”, especially now considering the context of their previous one-on-one interactions. 

Dennis' traitorous eyes had zero shame, dropping down to below Robby's hips and then up to his face again. He didn't say anything- he really couldn't say anything, anyway- because both of them had seen the look and now they (probably. hopefully?) had to do something about it. 

Robby's chest pushed out with a huff of a laugh, again of disbelief. Dennis honestly couldn't believe himself either, eyes wide and face burning. He felt like when he'd stepped onto the middle school stage for the first time in front of an audience and learned stage fright was real. Only this was much, much worse, because those feelings were combined with the messy tangle of specifically adult thoughts and feelings he had concerning Robby.

"Damn it, fuck me for trying to be subtle.” Robby muttered to himself, sliding a hand over his face. Then, to Dennis- “Could you blow me, please?” 

His mouth fell open. “What?” 

Robby stared back at him. “Dennis, when I ask you to do something, you do it.” 

He felt his mouth go dry. “Um… yeah, yeah, sure.” 

So Dennis dropped to his knees on the cold bathroom floor in front of Robby.  

I am not the kind of person that does things like this. He thought dizzily. 

“Hurry up.” Robby goaded, fingers sinking into Dennis’ hair with an uncharacteristic intimacy.  

Dennis stared at Robby’s now extremely obvious hardon with a horrible combination of longing and fear.  

He watched as Robby pulled his dick out, revealing that gorgeously masculine expanse of stomach and hips behind it. Dennis couldn’t figure out what to look at first. There was just so much of Robby that’d he’d never seen before, never been allowed to see, that he was overwhelmed even just looking down at his bare thighs. Of course his eyes were just drifting now to the cock in front of him, alarmingly close and real. 

Dennis felt his mouth start to water, which he almost felt shameful about except for the fact it’d probably make giving a blowjob easier for him. Actually, it’d probably make it easier for the both of them. 

Robby’s voice was so low it sounded like it might crack. “Open your mouth.”

Dennis felt his face flush. He opened his mouth, internally wincing at his own reckless obedience. 

Robby wasn’t exactly kind. His dick jutted forward, pressing insistently into Dennis’ open mouth.  

Out of pure instinct he lifted his tongue towards Robby’s cock and licked, tasting sweat and salt. Robby made an ungodly noise, muffled only by the heel of his hand, a pornographic groan that raised Dennis’ self esteem probably way too high. 

He wrapped his lips around Robby’s cock, lifting his hand up to touch. Robby gasped, “Don’t… don’t touch, please.” 

He’s so polite. Dennis thought, a little too romantically for their current situation. He dropped his hands to his sides.  

Robby continued, quieter- “Not yet. Fuck. Control yourself.” 

Who is he talking to right now? Dennis wondered dizzily, breath fanning heavily over Robby’s cock. 

Dennis’ heels were digging into the backs of his thighs. He pushed forward, as best as he could without the leverage of actually holding Robby’s dick.  

Robby’s thick fingers found the back of his head, curling into his hair. Robby’s voice curved low with praise, murmuring “God, you’re so pretty, Dennis.” 

Dennis moaned around his dick, simultaneously mortified and aroused. 

Robby pushed deeper into his mouth, and Dennis tried to moan but gagged instead, harsh and wet and horrible. His eyes stung with sudden tears.  

Despite himself he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. Robby’s voice had started muttering, “Sorry-“ but he’d been interrupted by Dennis’ perverted little moan.  

All he got from Robby was a hoarse damn before his dick was jackknifing into the tight column of Dennis’ throat, forcing multiple wet, choked, practically animalistic sounds out of his throat.  

“Good- good-“ Robby started praising him but cut himself off by whimpering breathlessly. He sounded like he was going to cry. And… it was incredibly hot. 

Dennis couldn’t help himself, he had to take advantage of Robby in this state. He wrapped his hands around Robby’s cock and froze at the desperate pleaseeee curving out of Robby’s mouth, hand shielding his eyes, bright red with effort and arousal. Dennis’ eyes fell shut, eyelids fluttering as he tried his best not to move his tongue too much around the cock obstructing his throat. 

“God, Den, such a good boy, m’gonna cum-“ Robby gasped, and Dennis was caught off guard both by the odd familiarity of them and the pornographically dominant words that he was using. How does he know I have a praise kink and how much porn does he watch?? I would have thought he watched it on VHS or something like that… did they say that kind of thing in old-timey porn?  

Dennis was snapped out of his weirdly interesting internal monologue by the fat thrust of Robby’s dick against the back of his throat. He tried to breathe and his throat gave a choked purr in response. Robby’s cock stuttered into his throat and then, abruptly, Dennis choked on the taste of cum filling his mouth, full tear tracks now sliding down his face from the sheer amount of gagging he was doing. 

Weird, then, that he heard Robby laughing, an awkward, self-deprecating kind of laugh. Dennis pulled his mouth off of his dick, coughing into the ball of his fist. He looked up at Robby. 

“Sorry.” Robby muttered. Dennis wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for the laughing or for the gagging. 

Dennis cleared his throat, then muttered, still annoyed from Robby's noncommittal laughter, “I didn’t have to do that.” 

Robby tipped his chin upwards, cocky but deadpan. “I told you to, so you did.” 

Dennis frowned. He wiped the cum off of his mouth. “You don’t have to be mean.” 

Robby huffed out a laugh. “What? You want me to be nice?” 

Dennis felt his heart sink. He stood, tearing his eyes away from Robby, and left the bathroom. 

Behind him, he heard Robby’s voice, low with condescension- “You swallowed it all.” 

Dennis groaned in annoyance, raking a hand over his eyes, face hot with shame.  

He only got a couple of steps away from the door before he spotted Langdon and Trinity peering over at him. They were oddly shoulder-shoulder, Langdon muttering something to Trinity. She gave a small nod, rolling her eyes but seemingly agreeing. 

Dennis internally sighed. When did they get along so well? 

He crossed to them. Langdon noticed him first and leaned away from Trinity, evidently trying to appear casual.  

“Hello, Dr. Santos.” Dennis bit off, looking between her and Langdon exaggeratedly. 

“Hi.” Trinity replied, picking at her nails. “You took a long time in there.” 

Dennis blanched. “Yeah, uh- we were busy.” 

Langdon’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah?” 

Jesus. A word Dennis didn’t allow himself to think often. Langdon was really not being subtle.

“Yeah.”  He replied, more deadpan than he'd really intended. The beginnings of a smile started to form on Langdon's face and it was driving Dennis up the wall.

"What'd he need you for?" Trinity asked, giving Langdon a not-subtle glare. Neither of them were really good at being subtle.

"I don't know." Dennis lied, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. "I guess he just wanted me to clean up."

"Weird. He's never done that for me." Langdon muttered, brow furrowed fakely. He wasn't a very good actor.

Well, you're a drug addict and he doesn't like you anymore. Dennis just shrugged instead of saying anything. "So I assume you guys, uh, figured out the…" He let the question trail off, honestly not caring too much about the answer.

Trinity breathed out a sigh. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Okay." Dennis managed awkwardly, drawing out the vowels. "Cool."

"Hemothorax." Langdon offered, matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, I figured." Dennis muttered, glancing annoyedly over at Langdon and then giving Trinity a meaningful glance.

Langdon looked between them noncommittally. Trinity sighed and pulled Dennis by the arm towards one of the empty trauma rooms.

"Dennis," she started, which already frightened him because she wasn't calling him 'Huckleberry', but the dead serious face she was giving him was also horrifying, "is something going on with Robby? Like, something bad?"

Dennis stared at her. "What? No. No, of course not."

Trinity didn't break eye contact. "I wouldn't be mad… if something was happening."

She's going to figure it out. Dennis thought, stomach dropping. "Uh… nope," he muttered with an awkward smile, trying to be natural, "we're all good."

She sighed like she really couldn't help it, hands pausing to massage her knit brow, ponytail swishing with the motion. "See, that's where- 'we'? When were you and Robby a 'we'?"

Fuck. "Sorry, I…" Dennis couldn't really find a meaningful end to that sentence, just gestured into oblivion, staring into Trinity's face and praying she was stupid or trusting enough to not notice something was up.

Trinity's brow furrowed even more than it already was. "I feel like he's being unprofessional towards you, Dennis. Or unfair."

Dennis could have laughed at that. Both were true, but definitely not in the way that Trinity was thinking. "No, it's- we- I mean, he- he's nice. He's just having a rough day."

Trinity frowned. "That's not a reason to take anything out on you."

Oh, Trinity, I'm so sorry, you're being so professional… "Thanks, but everything's fine. Robby's just being Robby." He managed a nervous smile, halfheartedly glancing over her shoulder.

She shook her head at him, not satisfied with his answer, and opened her mouth to say something else when the door cracked open.

Emma was looking in at them, face newly flushed with embarrassment, curls hanging over her eyes. "Uh… sorry. Dana was asking for you."

Trinity and Dennis looked at each other, then back to her.

Emma's eyes widened. "Oh! Uh, Dr. Whitaker, I mean."

Dennis gave her a soft little nod and sent an apologetic glance to Trinity.

Trinity didn't look at him as he walked out.

-3:40 PM-

"Yeah, I'm sure we can figure that out for you, ma'am." Dennis smiled at the elderly woman tucked into her chair.

"Okay… I just really want to see a doctor." Particular emphasis on those last two syllables. He frowned.

"I am a doctor." Dennis said again, keeping his tone level even as frustration started to creep in. This was maybe the fifth time he'd repeated those 4 words to the poor woman.

"Well… okay…" She murmured, voice soft, glancing around as if she was looking for somebody. Probably her imaginary doctor.

Dennis sighed and opened his mouth to explain yet again that he was a doctor but was interrupted conveniently by the sound of the door behind him opening.

In walked Robby, scrubbing his hands with hand sanitizer for probably the hundredth time that shift, eyes zeroed in on the patient. Maybe I have a competency fetish. He thought dizzily.

"Good afternoon, ma'am, I am Dr. Michael Robinavitch, how can I help you today?" The sentence was worn with routine in Robby's mouth but he still delivered it with bravado and effortlessness. Mentally Dennis had to keep from swooning.

The woman looked relieved. "Are you my doctor?" She asked, in the same tone someone would ask are you an angel?

Robby allowed himself a smug little smile, snapping the wrist of his glove against the tanned skin of his wrist. "I can be."

Dennis swallowed, blinking hard to keep his eyes from widening too much. Then the door behind them opened again, and Langdon poked his head in, mussed strands of hair falling over his eyes. "Hey, Dr. Whitaker, come with me."

Mentally, Dennis groaned, shooting Langdon an awkward nod and heading out the door. He felt Robby watching him leave.

He fell into step next to Langdon. "So, you and Robby, huh? What's that like?"

Dennis blanched. "I- Excuse me?"

"I'm, uh, joking. Seems like he picked you as the new favorite, I mean." Langdon didn't entirely sound like he was joking, but Dennis decided to just go with it.

"Right. Uh, I don't know. I don't think Robby picks favorites." Dennis managed, glancing over at Langdon.

Langdon shot him a look, eyes incredulous. "Yeah?"

Top 10 worst people to try to have a conversation with. "Uh huh."

"I used to think the same thing. Until Robby decided he hated me."

"Robby just holds grudges." Dennis smoothed over, trying his best to be comforting.

"Maybe." Langdon replied, not sounding too convinced. "Anyway, what was he doing to you in that bathroom?"

Dennis tried not to nervously cackle. Why is everyone in this stupid ER so nosy??? He cleared his throat instead and wracked his brain for an answer.

"Absolutely nothing. He just stood there and told me to wash up." Dennis looked ahead at Langdon, who was now walking in front of him. It seemed like he didn't have much interest in Dennis' answer.

He followed Langdon out to the ambulance bay. Dennis frowned at Langdon. "Are you actually taking me somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah." Possibly the sassiest tone he'd ever heard from Langdon. "We're in the ambulance bay."

Dennis affixed him with a squint, a frustrated sigh escaping him. "To do what?"

"Talk." Langdon replied, and the eye contact between them temporarily intimidated Dennis into silence. He opened his mouth to respond snappily but ended up closing it, only giving a small nod.

Langdon continued, "It seems like Robby really likes you."

Give me a break. "I guess he does, yeah. What happens if a patient comes in?" Dennis tried desperately to swing the subject back into the present.

Langdon actually grinned. "You sound like a med student. We help them."

Dennis couldn't figure out how to explain himself- you can't keep talking to me if we have to help a patient, dipshit- without sassing Langdon back, and he was determined to be the bigger person so he just kept his mouth shut.

Langdon's smile grew wolfishly larger, and he continued on, "It seems like he's giving you a lot of special treatment. And the other doctors and I have noticed he's been spending a lot of time alone with you." The other doctors. Sure.

And Dennis could hear the inevitable question behind his tone. Are you fucking him, Dr. Whitaker?

"I think that's standard procedure…" Dennis began, trying not to sound too defensive.

Langdon huffed out a disbelieving laugh, in that moment a perfect clone of Robby. It was unnerving and twisted Dennis' stomach.

"Standard procedure, huh?" Now Langdon's tone was entirely accusatory. He looked so horribly normal, too, perfectly casual while describing horrible accusations. Horrbiel accusations that were admittedly true, but Langdon didn't know that. At least Dennis hoped he didn't.

"Look, Dr. Langdon, I think you're a great doctor. I really do. But I think you're letting your personal feelings get in the way." Dennis tried to keep his tone diplomatic, interrupting before Langdon could get any further, staring up nervously into Langdon's face.

"My personal feelings?" Langdon hissed, newly incensed, glancing over Dennis' shoulder to make sure nobody was behind them.

Dennis gave a nod, fighting the urge to run away crying. "I think," he managed, "you're jealous."

Something clicked behind Langdon's expression. His mouth fell open and his face flushed. "You- are you saying I would want to- that I-" Langdon kept spluttering, which told Dennis all he needed to know. More like all he didn't really want to know, actually.

Langdon grabbed Dennis' shoulder. "Are- is he-"

Dennis stared tiredly up into Langdon's eyes. "What if he was, Frank?"

Langdon didn't say anything, eyes searching Dennis' face, too angry to hide how flustered he was at the very prospect of his own accusations.

"So- you-"

"Getting very comfortable over here, huh?" Robby's low voice, sardonic and somehow amused.

Langdon dropped Dennis's shirt, face even more flushed than before. His hair was sweaty and sticking to his forehead and Dennis thought detachedly that he looked good, more so than when he was put together and shiny-new.

Robby smiled tightly, walking up to them. "He getting handsy?"

Dennis choked on a surprised laugh, relieved, for once, to be interrupted. "No, sir."

Robby blinked, pausing at that- he does like it when I call him 'sir', then, I remember that from this morning, okay, whatever- but smoothed his expression over with a noncommittal smile. "Good. You wanna head inside, Dr. Langdon?"

Langdon stared up at Robby with possibly the most pathetic expression Dennis had ever seen. It was like looking in a mirror, only he was not a fan at all of this reflection. I really hope I don't actually look at Robby like that.

Finally, Langdon nodded meekly and turned back to walk into the ED, leaving Robby and Dennis alone. Again.

"I thought you said jealousy didn't suit me." Dennis mumbled, half-hoping Robby wouldn't hear him.

Robby grinned at that. "I'm not jealous, Dr. Whitaker, and what would I even have to be jealous of?"

Dennis sighed but didn't continue the thought. Robby was playing professional and probably wouldn't entertain him.

"Anyway. What are you doing out in the ambulance bay with Dr. Langdon?" Robby's face was amused, light and casual, but his voice betrayed a tightness that Dennis could really only interpret as jealousy or hatred for Langdon. Probably both.

"He wanted to talk." Dennis managed.

"About?" There was that clipped, possessive edge again.

"A patient." Dennis replied through his teeth. "It's kind of a private thing."

Robby tilted his head. "Patients or private business, Whitaker? It's one of the two."

"It's- it's between Langdon and I."

"And I'm your attending." Robby interrupted, sharp, eyes boring into Dennis'.

"Okay." Dennis mumbled, glancing around awkwardly. "Well, as my attending, you probably shouldn't be…" He was getting too bold.

Robby's mouth firmed into a line, eyes shining over with something like frustrated guilt. "You're right." was all he said, voice low and begrudging.

Dennis hadn't meant it to come out like that. He just stared, mouth open, not entirely sure how to correct himself without admitting what he wanted.

And that was the remainder of that conversation.

-5:30 PM -

Dennis hadn't expected Robby to walk back out into the ambulance bay after they had finished with what must have been 2 or 3 patients at least. Already the hours were starting to blend together.

"You're not going to take a break?" Dennis couldn't stop himself from asking, wracking his brain for the last time that Robby'd eaten.

"I don't need a break." Robby muttered, unconcerned.

"Okay." Dennis replied lamely.

Now Robby turned on him- "Do you need a break?"

Dennis' eyes widened uncomfortably. "Uh- no."

Robby only nodded at that, turning back to look at the ambulance bay in front of them and away from Dennis. His nod seemed to be more reassurance for himself than anything else. Dennis glanced over at him, not really able to stop himself from sticking to Robby's side and being vaguely clingy. "So, uh-"

Robb interrupted him, snapping out of his own thoughts. "You remember that first day, when you found me in Pedes?"

Dennis blinked. "The day Dr. Adamson-"

Robby cut him off. "Yeah. I keep thinking about it. You were so… different."

Dennis felt his mouth go a little dry. "Is that a bad thing?"

Robby looked like he wanted to laugh. "No. I was just- I was thinking, back then, you must have thought of me so differently."

Dennis' eyes widened, choking on air. "Well, yeah." He coughed into his hand, trying to cure his flusteredness, while Robby looked on awkwardly. "I mean- I was more scared of you."

Robby raised his eyebrows. "You were more scared of me?"

"Yeah." Dennis muttered lamely. Since when are you interested in discussing feelings??

Robby must have seen the indignation on his face. "So you're less scared of me now?"

Dennis could only really look on. "I guess."

"That's what you meant by saying that? You were more scared?"

He couldn't stop himself from getting defensive. "I don't- I don't know what I meant."

Robby could probably tell he was backing off. He sighed.

Then, out of the blue- "Sorry. I- have you ever had a girlfriend before?"

Dennis fought not to choke on air again. "Uh- yeah. In, like, high school."

"So not anymore?" Robby asked, dutifully avoiding eye contact.

"No." Dennis deadpanned. "Not anymore. Why do you care so much?"

Robby didn't answer him for a beat, then responded, voice oddly weak. "How pretty is my sister, from a scale of 1 to 10?"

Dennis actually glared at him. "Robby, I'm not interested in your sister, or, like, anyone, right now."

Robby didn't say anything to that. He gave a tiny little nod, watching Dennis' face carefully.

It's like I told him to heel. Dennis thought with a weird sense of victory.

After a beat, Robby patted Dennis' shoulder and strode away, back into the ED.

- 10:50 PM -

Dennis thanked Abbot as he strode out the door of PTMC holding a bottled Starbucks latte, courtesy of Abbot himself. He wasn't sure if his hands were sweating or if they were just covered in condensation from the bottle. He'd stayed behind to help the night shift and had been doubly rewarded with said latte. Trinity had already departed for home but Dennis was too giddy with sleep exhaustion to really be worried about it.

He heard footsteps from behind him, turned to see Robby's lean form crossing from the hospital towards him.

"Hey, Whitaker." Robby shouted after him, too professional, probably nervous about being heard by other people.

Dennis grinned. "Hi. Aren't you glad nobody died on us?"

Robby's brows furrowed with sudden concern, walking up so he could whisper into Dennis' face. "Yes…? Are you- how do you have so much energy right now?"

"I'm tired." Dennis murmured, sinking his face into Robby's chest. He felt Robby flinch backwards, then move forward to compensate and awkwardly pat his back.

Dennis peered back up from Robby's chest. "Trinity already left."

Robby blinked. "She left without you?"

"She said I'd get a ride. Can I ride you? I mean, can you-"

Robby flushed. "I got it."

He patted Dennis on the back again. "I'll drive you home, okay?"

Dennis gave a sleepy little nod. He heard Robby sigh. "And drink some coffee, please?"

Dennis couldn't really bring himself to question Robby at this point so he just popped the lid of the drink and took a swig.

His common sense started flickering back, causing him to stumble when he realized what he'd said to Robby. Can I ride you. Real smooth. "Oh, God, I didn't mean to say that." He choked out an embarrassed laugh.

Robby glanced down at him. "There we go. Already back to normal, huh?"

Dennis didn't dignify that with an answer, feeling himself flush at Robby's encouragement.

Robby said something soft into Dennis' hair, which was entirely too intimate for the amount of familiarity they had. Or maybe it was just the right amount of intimate, considering how familiar they'd been today. It was becoming hard to figure out their boundaries.

"What'd you say?" Dennis dared himself to ask.

"Nothing." Robby mumbled into his hair again.

Dennis pulled away, staring into Robby's face, the combination of coffee-adrenaline and arousal pushing him. "Robby?"

Distantly Dennis felt like he sounded like a different person, all warning and dangerous, like he was calling Robby a bad dog. Robby watched him, and Dennis watched back, noticed how the gears turned, noticed Robby wondering whether to put him in his place or heel at his instruction.

Which he had the capability to be completely and utterly normal about. Obviously. Dennis debated shoving his face back down so he wouldn't have to watch anymore, until Robby finally broke the silence-

"I said I can't believe you blew me in the bathroom." His tone was oddly light with embarrassment.

Dennis flushed. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

Robby blinked, tilting his head. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."

The lingering implication being I was the one who did something wrong.

Dennis couldn't stop looking at him, even though he really wanted to because it was bordering on unprofessional and already he was starting to think about this morning with my hands around his cock and him begging me please.

Robby's eyes widened, he looked a little panicked, and Dennis realized with an uncomfortable jolt that his train of though was probably affecting how he was looking at Robby. Dennis tried to muster an explanation- "Sorry. I'm a little, uh, distracted right now." Then, for communication's sake- "Were you saying something?"

Robby shook his head, eyes still way back and tortured. It gave Dennis another odd feeling of masculine victory. Can I stop being a pervert for one second???

In response to the extremely objectifying gaze that Dennis was likely giving him, Robby clamped his hand down further onto Dennis' shoulder.

Eventually Robby herded him over to his car and the two of them sandwiched themselves inside.

His brain was already drafting small talk. Sooo, how long's this ride gonna be? Well, not like that. Haha. Obviously. I mean it could be like that if you wanted. But if not then no.

Robby glanced over at him from his position in the driver's seat.

"Uh…" Dennis mumbled, glancing back at him. "Do you want to-"

But Robby was kissing him, rough hands firmly clamping around his face, breathing heavily into his mouth, and Dennis melted comfortably into the embrace. Now he was just used to it, and he knew he should have been scared or that he should know better, should tell Robby to stop because this was too far, but it felt so good and he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Dennis-" Robby gasped between kisses, although he wasn't sure if this wet open-mouthed slick press could really count as a kiss, and Robby's voice was so torturedly desperate that Dennis' cock jumped against the now-strained fabric of his pants.

"Yeah?" Dennis asked softly, prompting him, barely getting out words through the torrent of pathetic noises squeezing out of his throat.

Robby struggled to get his breath even, deliberately grinding his hardon against Dennis', causing both of them to moan way too loud in the echoing space of the car. Finally, Robby managed- "I need to get my hands on you."

Dennis began to pull his own waistband down in response, hands shaking, his incredibly pathetic way of saying please, go ahead, and Robby's hands were around his cock now, wet with sweat and so goddamn huge and-

"Robby, your hands are so fucking big…" Dennis gasped, unable to keep himself from expressing it aloud.

Robby looked up at him, eyes dark and wide. "You- do you like this?"

Dennis nodded frantically. "I- mm, oh my god, I can't-" He couldn't even bring himself to look down at the two of them anymore, eyes wide, instead letting his head fall back.

Robby huffed out a laugh, self-deprecating, like he couldn't believe Dennis was into that. I can't believe I'm into that. The whole thing was so incredibly embarrassing, coming to terms with what was happening between them. He couldn't shake his own urges off and here Robby was, blindly satisfying them, and Dennis couldn't find the shame he deserved. Robby pressed kisses into the now exposed column of his throat, and Dennis was basically helpless for all of 5 seconds.

Desperately, he scrambled to dip his hands below Robby's waistband, the fabric of Robby's boxers straining against his wrists. He watched Robby's chest heave as he breathed, and Dennis couldn't help but pant more excitedly when Robby's head tipped back, wordlessly obliging.

Embarrassingly, Dennis felt his mouth start to water, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from drooling. Holy shit, I need to relax.

There was no way he could relax at this point, though, because they were basically giving mutual handjobs, which was incredibly hot. Robby moaned, breath heaving pathetically, and Dennis felt his orgasm already beginning to approach, cock trapped in the tight vise of Robby's grip.

"Oh, fuck me-" Dennis moaned, not really meaning anything he was saying, entirely too close to be trusted with speaking rationally.

"Yeah?" Robby panted, kissing down Dennis' jaw again, tensing as Dennis continued palming his cock. "You'd let me?"

Dennis felt like he was going to faint, or maybe die, head going hot and cold. "I- I mean-"

Robby stopped, dark eyes peering into Dennis' face. "Would you?"

Robby's hands had stopped moving over Dennis' cock. It throbbed, once, and Dennis was forced to break the silence, eyes getting hot with sudden frustrated tears, as he gasped- "Yes. Yes, please. "

Robby gave an obliging nod, oddly polite, hair mussed with effort, eyes glassy and aroused. "Get on your stomach."

Dennis struggled to keep his breath even, blinking hard. "Okay." He took his hands off of Robby's cock, slightly disappointed in himself but also incredibly aroused. His brain was turbulent.

He rolled over, turning over in the seat so that his back was to Robby, then sliding down so that he was on his stomach. It was a little cramped but his heart was pounding so fast that he was just trying to focus on doing as he was told and not thinking about anything else but the present.

"You ever been fingered before?" Robby murmured, and Dennis felt his face getting incredibly hot. He could have sworn he was shaking.

By anyone else? Dennis swallowed. "N- uh, no. No, sir."

Robby took a deep breath. "Could I try it?" His voice was so low and vulnerable. Dennis tried to muffle a groan into the seat.

A hand came to linger on Dennis' hip. It was cold, fingers splaying over his body, and Dennis realized he needed to respond.

"You don't have to ask." He finally panted, heart racing. "You can just do it."

A smile curved into Robby's voice. "I wouldn't wanna take advantage."

Dennis was basically moaning with every breath. He was only now becoming aware of his aching cock pinned underneath his body, twitching and leaking.

He knew what Robby wanted him to say. Quietly, he mumbled- "Please."

Robby didn't move. "What'd you say, Dennis?"

Firstnamefirstnamefirstname. He'd never get used to it.

"I- I said please." Dennis managed, a little louder, voice straining with effort.

Robby's hand tightened around his hip. Slowly- "You want this?"

Dennis exhaled shakily. "Please? Could- could you please…"

If he says 'please what' I swear to God.

Slowly, Robby's cold hand creeped down Dennis's spine, slipping beneath the waistband of his pants.

"This is alright?" Robby asked, instead of what Dennis had thought he would say, which would have resulted in a weak throatpunch followed by probably 10 blowjobs to make up for it. "You're okay with this?"

"You haven't even done anything yet." Dennis mumbled.

Robby was still putting up with him, voice low and patient. "You know what I'm going to do, and I'm trying to see if I have your consent."

His first instinct was a muttered you're right, i'm sorry just so Robby would do it already. Instead he managed a semblance of dignity- "It's- it's not a completely new thing to me. I've- I'm not, like, a fingering virgin."

Lightly, Robby muttered, "Masturbation doesn't count."

Dennis tensed, face flushing. "If you don't want to do it, just don't do it."

He was about to say something else similarly combative, but he felt the soft press of Robby's wide fingers lining up with his hole.

And, like the degenerate that he was, Dennis was pushed to a new low. "Mm- oh, fuck, you have to do it now, oh, please, please, please, pl-"

"Good boy." Robby whispered, tone warm with praise, turning Dennis' incoherent begging into an even more incoherent moan as his fingers pushed even closer-

But Robby didn't slip his fingers in, he just sat and waited. Dennis' stomach burned with frustration.

He straightened up onto his forearms in a pseudo-plank with an uncomfortable little unh, turning his head as much as he could to look back at Robby. "Are you gonna-"

He was interrupted by the rough plunge of fingers into his hole, effectively rendering communication useless as Dennis gasped out slightly panicked groans. His body was going through the odd back and forth of pushing Robby out and pulling him in, but Robby was admirably steady. Robby must've been praising him, voice low and level, but Dennis was too busy hitching his body backwards as best as he could, just trying to get deeper onto Robby's fingers, without biting his own tongue off.

"Hey, careful." Robby intoned, solid hand settling against Dennis' back to hold him down. Dennis moaned torturedly and let his body fall back down flat onto the seat.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" Robby asked, voice low, like he thought Dennis might run away. Dennis could barely keep his own breathing even.

"Robby, if you don't fuck me in the next five seconds, m'gonna-" He barely managed the sentence, interrupting himself with desperate keening noises, only he couldn't finish the threat because Robby's thick fingers were probing deeper into him. Holy shit, oh my God-

He couldn't tell what he was saying and what he was thinking, his brain was a hot tangle of wires and feeling and pleasure and shame.

"There we go." Robby murmured admiringly, and that combined with the slight friction of Dennis' cock moving against the carseat- holy shit I'm going to cum all over his passenger seat- was pushing him closer to his inevitable orgasm.

"God, how are you even taking two?" Robby whispered, voice soft and reverent, fingers starting a slight pumping motion into Dennis.

Dennis couldn't hold his breath anymore, and gasped out a loud exhale, chest heaving. He couldn't help himself, it felt so good already, and distantly he realized he was crying, shaky sobs that rattled deep in his throat.

Robby slowed. "Dennis? You okay?"

His voice was so kind, tone curved with a romantic familiarity- I don't deserve this, I don't deserve this side of him- and Dennis couldn't stop his sobs from spilling over. "Please," he gasped, "don't stop, I promise it feels good, I'm just- I can't-"

Suddenly his shame and his horrible fantasies were all worth having, because Robby was solid and here and patient, continuing his slow movement, until Dennis' sobs dissolved into more overwhelmed moans of pleasure.

Robby's voice was weirdly sharp. "Does that feel good?"

Dennis' breath heaved. "Of course, the- oh, you mean the, uh, crying?" He had now started to ramble.

"Mm-hmm."

Dennis shuddered into the sensation, desperately wracking his brain for a worthwhile response- "I can't really help it."

"I mean- does it take you out of it?" His voice shook slightly with the motion, as his hands were now scissoring Dennis' hole more open with his fingers, so slick and messy that Dennis was forced to bite down his moans as not to interrupt.

"No." He managed in response, dick twitching underneath him. The tips of Robby's fingers brushed lightly against his prostate, and a warm dizzy feeling of pleasure washed over him, temporarily his muscled seized and he started to think he was losing control over his own body.

Dennis heard the remainder of an animalistic gasp, ripped out of his throat by Robby's movement, and the noise bounced around through the car.

Robby paused.

"I'm sorry." Dennis gasped in one breath, daring to tilt his hips backward, praying the movement would start again, he just needed friction so badly…

Instead Robby pulled his fingers out, still oddly quiet, leaving only the slick pop as he pulled out to echo out into the silence. Dennis could only stay still for so long, mind racing. He could feel Robby adjusting behind him.

"What're you… ?"

"I'm gonna fuck you now." Robby muttered, voice slightly shaky with need, and Dennis felt his cock jump torturously underneath his body.

"Oh. Uh, okay. Uh. Yeah." He couldn't find a sexier response.

Dennis felt the warm head of Robby's dick slide slickly up against the curve of his ass. Oh, this is real, this is really happening…

Despite himself, his eyes rolled into his head. "Oh, my God." Robby didn't reply, just slid two firm hands onto Dennis' hips.

"Good." Robby murmured, voice still shaky, probably trying his best to reassure himself.

And Dennis groaned from deep in his throat as Robby's cock plunged into his hole, barely able to stop himself from continuing to tighten around Robby's cock, practically pushing him out, except Robby was so big and so much heavier than him that Dennis was essentially overpowered.

Robby sighed in relief, breath hitching delightfully as his hips stuttered into Dennis' ass. Dennis couldn't think, he couldn't breathe-

"You're good for your first time." Robby managed, voice so low it sounded like it might break.

"I'm- I'm just trying to be good for you." Dennis whispered stupidly, only aware of the white hot bliss of Robby's cock against his prostate. He hadn't known it would feel like this-

"You are good for me, puppy." Robby murmured in response, hands starting reassuring circles against Dennis' hipbones. He'd done the same thing against Dennis' shoulders that morning.

"G- wh- why would you-" Dennis gasped, mind going blank, breath heavy, eyelids fluttering as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Robby didn't say anything, probably embarrassed into submission. Quietly, he asked- "Did you like that?"

Out of himself he was nodding, and Dennis realized he did like it, he was into that, and holy shit he was getting weirder by the minute.

Robby's cock hitched a little too hard into Dennis' prostate, and already he was getting close. "Fuck- Oh- oh, yeah, I liked that, mm, Robby-"

Another unh was forced out of his throat, this time not from shifting his position, just from Robby's cock slapping into him harder.

Robby's hands smoothed over his lower back unconsciously. The two of them were gasping and moaning with each movement, and Dennis was in a complete state of euphoria from finally syncing up, finally understanding what Robby wanted, and here he was giving that up, and Robby didn't even have to say a word.

His mind was finally blissfully blank, full of only the absolute need to keep getting slammed further into the carseat, the need to hear Robby's voice broken and needy and desperate-

Quietly, Robby started to murmur into his hair, "God, you deserve this, puppy, you're doing such a good job-"

Dennis was helpless, perfectly useless, groaning until his throat started to burn.

Then there were hands grabbing his waist, pulling him up, until Dennis found himself maneuvered into straddling Robby's chest, and before he could really complain about Robby slipping out of him he was stupidly watching Robby feed his cock back into Dennis' hole, large hands wrapped around his own equally large dick- everything about him is big, holy shit- and he was sitting with his legs wrapped around Robby's hips, watching Robby lay below him, aware of the soft pressure into his ass but not entirely sure of how to move.

"Do you-" He managed, voice small, but Robby interrupted him- "You asked to ride me earlier."

Dennis stared stupidly down at Robby. His hair was mussed, eyes glassy with arousal, sweat dripping down his cheek, face flushed delightfully from exertion. In a word, Dennis thought, hot.

He finally snapped back into reality when he realized Robby was still staring at him. "Oh. Uh- you want me… to-?"

Robby didn't say something snappy or smart like Dennis had thought he would. Instead, still holding intense eye contact with Dennis, he nodded, lips parted, eyes dark and wide and pathetic.

Dennis flushed and glanced away, or at least tried to, but Robby looked so pathetic and pretty that he couldn't stop himself from continuing to stare.

"I- uh-" All he could do was mumble.

"Please?" Robby's voice was hushed, reverent, looking up at Dennis like he was starved.

They both watched as Dennis' cock jumped against his stomach. Dennis flushed harder.

Robby didn't break character. Dennis wasn't even sure if he was being a character. Mostly he was just thinking about how Robby'd look with a cock in his mouth. Which was… weirdly, not a thought he'd had before. At least not very often.

Dennis nodded, avoiding Robby's eyes, and started to awkwardly shift his hips. His thighs tensed on instinct, more like horseriding instinct than anything else, and unconciously he'd already built a soft rhythm before he became aware of how utterly blissed out Robby was already.

Robby's face was red, one large palm hovering over his mouth like he wasn't sure whether to cover it or not, eyes spaced out and overwhelmed again. He moaned into his hand, one long unnghh, scraping it across his face, and distantly Dennis thought he took head pretty similarly, like he was embarrassed and frustrated and just wanted to get it over with, even when Dennis could obviously feel his cock, pushed deep into Dennis' hole, throbbing with pleasure and need.

He would have watched Robby except he slipped down abruptly- stupid sweaty body- and gasped out one of those girlish moans as Robby's cock jammed against his prostate.

Robby lifted his hand away from his face to give Dennis a look that said seriously? like Dennis wasn't supposed to be making him feel good. Like feeling good or finding Dennis' moans attractive was some embarrassing torture forced upon him by the gods.

And he couldn't really bring himself to be mad at Robby for that, not with the delicious slick noises their bodies were making.

Dennis realized he was grinning as Robby basically lost the ability to speak through a torrent of delightfully overwhelmed moans.

"We're going to ruin these carseats." He whispered, voice tinged with humor and the slight constriction of effort.

Robby glanced sharply up at him, but the intimidating effect was ruined by the wideness of his eyes and the flush in his face.

Finally, Robby gasped, "You're probably too good at this."

Dennis shot him a grin, heart racing with a new kind of pride, and collapsed into satisfied moans as Robby''s cock slid towards his prostate again and again.

Overwhelmed, he couldn't even wallow in his victory, and again they let the noises of their bodies and their unconscious moans take up the silence.

"I love you, Robby." Dennis gasped, unable to hold his breath anymore.

Robby tensed, eyes meeting his again, deadly serious. Dennis could tell he was getting close already. "What'd you say?"

Dennis' breath hitched. He turned his head away, eyes falling closed, heart pounding with the sudden seriousness, but his orgasm was approaching and they'd have to confront it, wouldn't they? "I'm gonna cum-"

Robby's hand, shaking, clasped Dennis' jaw and turned his face towards Robby so that they were essentially forced to lock eyes. Dennis' eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled into his head and then back forward, so incredibly overwhelmed by the wet squelching noise and the scary look in Robby's eyes.

"What did you say, Dennis?" Robby muttered, eyes on him, voice broken and desperate.

"I said I love you." Dennis whimpered, cock twitching, gasping hotly as Robby's cock started basically pounding into his prostate, not sure if it was the movement of his hips or Robby's that was leading them through the motions.

"One more time-" Robby groaned, voice breaking, eyes flicking down and around his face but overall staying on Dennis.

Dennis' brain was bluescreening. "I lo-I love y-" He was basically hiccuping with desperation.

"C'mon." Robby moaned, cock jackknifing into Dennis' prostate so fast he could hardly think.

"I love you, Mikey, I love you so fucking much, mm-" Dennis groaned desperately as he orgasmed, forced and whitehot, cock spurting cum against his stomach and onto the expanse of Robby's stomach and chest, and he gasped pathetically as Robby came inside of him, cum sticky and wet and warm.

Robby collapsed back against the seat, breath heaving. Dennis watched him a little too admiringly. They didn't move or speak for several minutes.

Robby drove him home without speaking to him. Trinity kept asking him what he was so happy about, but Dennis didn't answer, practically skipping up to his room. And for the first time in a long time, he fell asleep pretty much immediately after lying down.