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Something is wrong with Robby. He seems less…in control. Like he doesn’t care about anything he says or does, or how it comes off to other people. Nothing really matters to him anymore besides work, and even that is starting to lose its colour.
Dennis watches him intently. He sees the way Robby goes through shifts so carelessly, the drive leaving him more day-by-day. His skill is still there, he knows what he’s doing, but it’s like he’s not there.
Now, today, it’s like Robby isn’t even attempting to be subtle. Dennis feels a little trapped. He wants to answer his cries for help, but what is he even supposed to say? “Hey, Robby, please don’t kill yourself on your sabbatical.” Maybe exactly that.
Whitaker likes Robby a lot, but their relationship has never grown past anything other than friendship. A disappointment, sure, but Dennis can live with it. It’s kind of his fault because he’s never really attempted to push it further, always just settling for the shoulder touches and praise he gets from him at work.
So is it even his place to talk to Robby about his mental health? Dennis is pretty sure you’re not supposed to bond about suicide with your boss. Still, something in him is telling him to talk Robby out of it.
When they end up in Robby’s bed later that night, Dennis blames it on that little voice that was nagging him.
Robby’s friend wasn’t able to fix up his bike in time. He wanted to go to the bar and relax after the shift, and when Dennis asked if he could join, he wasn’t going to say no.
Whitaker didn’t say anything about Robby’s future plans (or lack thereof) at first. He didn't want to scare him off. Now, Dennis presses his bare chest against Robby’s own and gets close to his ear so he can whisper to him.
“I don’t want you to go, Robby.”
He moves his hips slowly with the help of Robby’s hands.
“What?” His voice comes out hoarse.
“Your sabbatical,” Dennis kisses along his jaw, “You can’t go, because I know what you’re going to do.” He’s not even sure why he’s saying any of this right now, but for some reason it feels right.
Robby holds Dennis down against him and thrusts. So, he’s not entirely weirded out.
“Fuck, Whitaker, do we need to talk about this right now?”
Dennis nods into Robby’s neck.
“Yes, we do,” He raises himself so he’s back to sitting upright, “You can’t leave.”
Robby drags a hand down Whitaker’s bare chest and smirks.
“I appreciate it, but I have a plan that I’m already behind on.” Something in his voice hurts Dennis more.
“I fuckin’ know you have a plan. That’s why you can’t go.”
Even though some kind of familiar pain wells up in Dennis’ chest, he keeps riding Robby. One of his hands finds Robby’s and he holds it for a second. Then he moves it so he can touch himself like that, using Robby.
It’s like the pleasure and sadness mix in his head, and he starts to cry, overwhelmed.
Robby looks concerned.
“Hey–are you okay?”
Dennis keeps rubbing himself, his hand (and in addition, Robby’s hand) speeding up.
“Tell me you won’t kill yourself, Robby, please, please,” his hips move around wildly, the two sources of pleasure confusing his brain, “I need you.”
Every rational and moral voice in Robby’s head is screaming at him to stop, Dennis is clearly not in a good headspace right now. But is he, either? Something about this is exactly what he needs. Somebody showing him just how wanted he is.
“Fffuck, Dennis.” his head falls against his pillow. His right hand is no longer his own, it belongs to Dennis.
Whitaker moves back into the position he was in before, with his mouth close to Robby’s ear.
“Tell me, please, I need to hear you say it.”
Robby’s arm is sandwiched between the two of them and Dennis continues to hump it lazily.
“Okay, shit, Dennis, I won’t kill myself.”
Whitaker lifts himself up until he’s pulled off of Robby completely. Both of them groan.
“Promise me.”
Robby’s free arm scrambles to hold onto Dennis’s waist.
“I promise.”
Dennis kisses Robby and sinks back down on him. The tears start to flow again and he doesn’t bother to wipe them away. He looks so damn cute when he cries.
“I’m so close, Robby,” Whitaker says this between kisses, “Move your hand a little, please.”
“So polite. Gladly.”
He tries to move his hand as much as he can and clearly it’s working, because Dennis’ head drops to rest on his shoulder. Whitaker’s hips raise a little to give him more room.
“You’re so wet. Jesus Christ.”
Dennis scoffs, disgusted, but it’s true. To further prove his point, Robby rubs his hand on the skin of Whitaker’s abdomen.
“Don’t move–” The loss of sensation, even for a second, makes Dennis frantic. Right now, all he wants is for Robby to make him feel good. His hand returns to where it was a moment ago. “Oh, God!”
Robby tries to focus all his energy on moving his fingers in the exact way that Dennis wants him to. He knows that's what he’s needed for.
“Being so good for me, baby.”
“Thank you, thank you, I lov–” Dennis cuts himself off and makes an awkward face, “Um. Sorry.”
Robby feels a little bit awkward too, but he shakes his head. “It’s okay. You can say it if you need to.”
Dennis stills his movements for a couple seconds and then starts back up again, like he had a short heart-to-heart with himself.
“I love you, Robby,” his breath starts to get shakier and he starts to feel a little limp, his orgasm approaching, “I’m so close, just a little more…”
Robby doesn’t say it back, at least not yet, he just drives himself deeper into Dennis as he whines in his ear.
“You’re my good boy, aren’t you, sweetheart,” he pets Dennis’ hair with his left hand, “Sound so pretty.”
Hearing Robby say he sounds pretty is almost too much and he feels like he literally explodes on top of him. He sort of does. Robby follows pretty much immediately after and almost fails to keep his composure.
After laying on Robby’s chest for a while, catching his breath, Dennis raises his head to look at him.
“Uh, thanks for all that. Sorry that I got so…weird. Give me a few days and maybe I’ll be able to explain it.”
Robby chuckles.
“No problem, kid. We don’t have to talk about it right now.”
Dennis smiles and cranes his neck up more so he can kiss Robby, just barely reaching him.
“But we will talk about it.”
“Yeah. Of course. Eventually.”