Archive of Our Own

It was utterly unfair how easily Frank Langdon fit in at the hospital's fundraising cocktail party. Never mind that he was rocking a very basic skinny black suit over a white dress shirt, no tie, and that his hair was wrangled only about as much it usually was at work – which meant he was constantly fiddling with it, at the very least to sweep it back out of his eyes. He didn't need more than that, did he? He was wholesomely handsome, assertive without being aggressive, and reasonably charismatic. In other words, built for situations like this. 

Dennis, on the other hand, felt fairly self-conscious in the ballroom, boxed in by the expectations of his superiors and pretty much everyone else in the room, which included donors and attendings and, yes, lowly residents like him. He had thrown on a trim-fitting black suit, one he styled without a shirt underneath just to be the tiniest bit visibly queer. Beyond that, the most he could say was his hair looked pretty good for a change, and he always took decent care of his skin. The point was, he was presentable and friendly, and he was an active listener, which got him pretty far, but he wasn't the type who could easily strike up a conversation with strangers. 

Over the last hour, Dennis had seen Langdon have several such conversations, some animated and full of laughter, others calm and smooth, mostly with Mel at his side. Then Mel had drifted away, in Trinity's direction, leaving Langdon standing off to himself. Langdon watched the room with amused curiosity, with a smile playing at his lips. Always thinking. But he wasn't exactly chill. He had a tendency to fidget. At the moment, he had one hand shoved into his pocket. Dennis kept finding his eyes drawn to him. 

He tried not to let his gaze linger, but he apparently looked Langdon's way one too many times because he finally caught him looking back. Langdon gave him a sly smile, one might even say inviting. Why shouldn't he walk over and join him?

Because this was not a thing they did, actually. They didn't share a table in the break room or have inside jokes. They'd never collapsed together in the ambulance bay or up on the roof, giddy with adrenaline or exhaustion. He generally liked working alongside Langdon — liked his energy, so different from his own, and his way of teaching — so there was the possibility of them becoming work friends, at least. But they hadn't yet. He felt something hanging in suspension between them, and it wasn't entirely because of Trinity. Maybe it was the Robby of it all, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was mostly just them. 

Still, he found his legs taking him in Langdon's direction. Something about that smile – now that he reconsidered it, he seemed friendly but maybe a little cautious – pulled at him. It was like a mystery he suddenly needed to solve. 

"Hey," Dennis said as he planted himself at Langdon's side. 

Langdon just nodded in recognition. He looked mildly surprised, but not in a bad way. 

"Having fun?" he replied with a sardonic smile.

"Are you?"

"I don't know," Langdon said, "there was about half an hour there where I was kind of enjoying myself."

"At least there's a free bar."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, a thought hit Dennis – Isn't alcohol seen as a drug in 12-step programs? – and he eyed Langdon's rocks glass. He didn't mean that glance to be accusatory. He supposed it wasn't, or that the man understood his intent, given that he shot him a sharp grin.

"Just fancy club soda," Langdon said, lifting the glass a little. "Sober means sober."

"Ah."

Langdon's mouth pressed into a frown. "That was defensive, wasn't it?" he said, cringing. "And maybe, like, judge-y?"

"No."

"I really don't care that you're drinking."

"Mostly to have something to do with my hands," Dennis said. "I didn't think about…" He raised the bottle of shitty beer he'd been nursing for the better part of an hour and gestured with it toward Langdon. "...until…" He took a shallow breath and huffed it out nervously as he said, "Sucks, I guess? I mean, that you have to be here at all."

Langdon shrugged, replying, "I probably could have gotten out of it. Would have if I thought it would mess me up. I'm not saying it's nothing, but I've never been a big drinker, so that part hasn't been that difficult. I don't even think about it unless I'm in a situation like this."

"Missing the, uh, social lubrication?"

Langdon smiled. He held Dennis's gaze for a long second, then he took a drink. After a moment, he murmured:

"It's not really about the alcohol. It's more like I kind of don't know myself anymore? I'm me, of course, but me is pretty…unfamiliar at this point."

Dennis said, "Well, from my perspective, for what that's worth, if anything," he rolled his eyes at himself, at the seriousness of his tone and the presumptuousness, "you seem to be doing fine."

Langdon gave him a small, terribly earnest smile. 

"Yeah, that's the problem, maybe. You know how it is, being in the ED. You live for the pendulum swings. When everything kind of slows down in the middle, it's… hard."

Dennis just nodded. 

Langdon gave him a rueful smile and said, "I'm just glad I can still smoke."

"Yeah, I can't imagine quitting right now, and I'm not also trying to quit…other things."

"You smoke?"

Genuine surprise. That was a sign of just how little they were in each other's active orbit. They'd never shared a cigarette or even a smoke break. 

Langdon was eyeing him like he was a naughty kid, which at one point would have made him a little cranky, perhaps even a lot defensive. Now it just amused him.

Dennis said, "Doesn't everybody pick up bad coping mechanisms in med school?" 

"Rehab, too. What sucks is I had actually just about quit before I went in."

It was Dennis's turn to be surprised, though less at the information than the fact that Langdon was talking to him about being in treatment. He'd gotten pretty open about his addiction, which Dennis admired, but he was usually just overhearing the guy speak about it with other people.

Curious, Dennis asked him: "I guess there are different rules for smoking than booze in the recovery world?"

"Yeah. I think it's because of… well, exactly the reaction you just had. A lot of people wouldn't even try to get clean if they had to cut out nicotine, too. Call it harm reduction. Smoking is legal, and it doesn't tend to make you act like a piece of shit, so." He shrugged.

Dennis didn't know what to say to that — except, that is: "You wanna dip out for a break?"

Langdon grinned and nodded eagerly, and he let him lead the way.

*

They kept the door to the loading dock wedged open with a brick clearly designated for the purpose. 

Dennis was normally not the kind of guy to get romantic about smoking. He very rarely caught himself staring at someone's hands or mouth. It was mainly a companionable thing, a common gesture that made it a little easier to talk to people.

But Frank Langdon was kind of devastating to watch with a cigarette in his hand, maybe especially standing there in a patch of streetlight flooding the otherwise dark loading dock. He looked like an old-school movie star, too handsome for words and existing on a different plane than mere mortals. But Dennis knew better than that. He'd worked alongside the man enough to know that he was indeed a real person. He was a curious combination of sweet and cocky, and a much bigger dork than anyone would believe from just looking at him. That made him more attractive to Dennis, though, not less. 

They didn't talk for a few minutes, just enjoyed their cigarettes and the cool early spring night in what felt like blissful silence after the ballroom, despite the dull roar of the traffic on the road in front of the building. Dennis was still astounded to find himself connecting with Langdon all of a sudden. Something had shifted over the last little while, maybe from meeting each other in a different context, one without the constant grind and competition (mostly friendly) of the ED.

Dennis said, "I'm not being nosy getting you to talk about recovery, am I?"

"Nah," Langdon replied, shaking his head. "I'm thankful for the opportunity." He took a short drag and exhaled it toward the sky before he added, "Some people are really weird about it, which I understand, I guess, but it gets…" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not like I want to make addiction my whole personality, but it's always right there. I'm still pissing in a cup in front of some dude every day. It can be exhausting talking around it."

"I can't even imagine." After a second, he added, "Somebody goes in the bathroom with you?"

Frank chuckled, but his voice was cool again as he replied, "I don't love it but I understand the need for it."

Dennis dropped the butt of his cigarette into the mostly empty beer bottle he'd brought with him, now perched on the adjacent windowsill. Langdon leaned back against the bricks, tipping his head back. (Frank, he reminded himself. His first name was Frank.) Dennis felt a little feral looking at his freshly shaved neck and jaw, still dark with hidden stubble, dimpled chin curving up to a pair of lips that begged to be kissed. They would look really nice stretched around his cock, too, if it ever came to something like that. Who even knew? Just because the man was an equal-opportunity flirt, as likely to wink at John Shen as Kim Tate, that didn't mean he was interested in men or in screwing around with a colleague.

"Do you think you're adjusting okay to being back?" Dennis asked.

"Mostly." Frank's neutral expression warmed into a grin. "What happened to you're doing fine?"

"I meant it." Frank gave him a skeptical face, so he added, "I guess what I was trying to say: If you don't know who you are… well, I can tell you that the person I work with everyday seems like a pretty solid guy, you know?"

Frank dropped the butt of his cigarette into the beer bottle and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

"I would say the same about you, actually. I don't remember a lot about the day we met, not that part of it anyway. No offense. But when I came back, I was definitely kind of shocked to realize the confident intern somehow managing not to strangle Ogilvie was the wide-eyed MS 4 Robby had been clinging to like a life-preserver."

Dennis just grinned, maybe a little sharply.

"What?" Frank said. "Too honest?"

"No. I'm just glad…" He huffed out a laugh. "I guess it's good to know you don't…"

It felt foolish to say it out loud, especially now with Frank's eyes on him. But they had decided to dive into the deep end of the pool for some reason.

"...hate me?"

"What?" he said with a confused look and a shake of his head. "Why?"

On the surface, there was no particular reason to, but they both knew what lay beneath the surface.

Dennis said, "I was kind of afraid you would."

"C'mon."

"I'm serious."

"I know." Frank looked him over again, a more cautious smile on his lips. Then he said, "I guess I've been trying to let you be you."

"Same."

At that, Frank grinned, though he quickly tried to tamp down that reaction. "Yeah?" he said.

It hit Dennis like a lightning bolt: his own nagging fear of Frank disliking him was nothing compared to Frank's reasonable assumption that Robby's new protege, who was also Santos's friend, would approach him with a serious chip on his shoulder. 

Frank had been ruinously awful to Trinity that day, but that didn't match up with the person Dennis worked with every day now. There was actually an icy truce in effect between the two of them, for the sake of work and for Mel. The point was Frank had either changed or he hadn't been himself before. And now he was clearly trying to atone. Who knew if she would let him. She didn't have to, of course – he couldn't take back the damage he'd done. But Dennis didn't have to carry out a proxy war on her behalf either. She'd actually told him as much. 

Dennis said, "As far as I'm concerned, we never really got to know each other before. So I've actually known you for, what, six weeks?"

In those weeks, they'd had only one negative interaction, a terse moment in the break room that Dennis was positive hadn't been about Frank at all. Beyond that, there was a lot of friendliness and productive cooperation when traumas called them together, or when he needed help from someone much higher on the food chain. When there was a reason to speak, basically. Besides that, he given him – well, he was now seeing that they'd given each other – a wide berth. Not that that stopped him from watching the man from afar. Maybe too much. Maybe it was why he'd been watching him that night.

Frank's smile of agreement turned to a sarcastic frown as he muttered, "It's a lot easier without a certain attending hovering."

"And barking at people," Dennis added. At Frank's raised eyebrow in reaction, he said, "Just because he wasn't doing it to me, that doesn't mean I didn't notice." 

Dennis leaned back against the bricks beside him. Frank was waiting for him to say more. Was there more to say?

Dennis let out a breath, and the words tumbled out: "Everybody thinks I should be sad that he's gone. But I'm not?"

"I get it. Being the favorite is sort of its own kind of hell."

"I don't know if that's the word I'd use to describe it." 

"Favorite or hell?"

Dennis turned his head enough to give him a sardonic smile. 

He thought about the extra set of keys in his pocket. It can be your bachelor pad, Robby had said. Like it was a gift. The reality was he was one of the few people who hadn't been calling the man out about his rotten fucking attitude in the days before he left, in part because he hadn't been on the receiving end of it, and the reward was being saddled with a whole house to keep an eye on. He didn't mind it, exactly, but it didn't say what people thought it did about their relationship, or about his ability to see through the man's bullshit. He figured that was why Robby was especially unhappy to see Frank before he left: if anybody stood a chance of looking right through his facade it was the man's former protege.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," Dennis added. "He'll move on to a new favorite. It's what he does, apparently."

Frank's eyes suddenly went wide, his expression shifting to something that made a blush light up Dennis's cheeks before he even processed it.

"No," Dennis said, launching himself off the wall. He needed his hands to express how much no it was. "That's not… I didn't mean the six week expiration date on his relationships or whatever. He's my mentor. Exactly like he was yours, unless you're telling me–"

"Ha," Frank barked out. "Fuck no."

"Exactly. Fuck no. He's my boss. He's also literally twice my age, not to mention an absolute mess at the moment."

Frank giggled, saying, "Okay. Good."

"Seriously."

Frank nodded and said, "I didn't think so. That's why I was surprised. He may be kind of a manwhore, but he has boundaries. On the other hand, he is more than the usual mess right now."

"Yeah," Dennis said. "But I'm not."

Frank smiled at him, his expression softening into something more serious as he nodded again. 

"Yeah," he said. "I see that. I do. Sorry."

Dennis rolled his eyes, saying, "You wouldn't be the first to make that assumption."

"Oh," Frank said, face falling. "Shit. You mean people think that's why…?"

"Are you saying they didn't with you?"

"Maybe early on, at least until he stopped touching me all the time."

"Good to know that might stop eventually."

Frank gave him a small smile. "There was a time I really missed it."

After a pause lingered for a moment, Frank grinned to himself, dark and hard.

"I can hear what you're thinking," he said. "There might have been some attraction there or whatever, but I can tell you for a fact that things got easier when he realized I didn't want to jump his bones."

"One would assume," Dennis replied, doing his best not to raise his eyebrows at that little piece of the puzzle being vocalized, and in such blunt terms. What did it mean, though?

Dennis now felt a slightly heavier tension stretching between them. It also made the path to further conversation a little too serious, so a charged silence set in for a minute or two. 

"I kind of want another cigarette," Frank finally said, "but I'm a little afraid we'll never go back inside."

"Would that be so bad?" Dennis replied, smiling slyly at him.

"Maybe not," Frank said, flashing him a quick grin in response. "But we should make a reappearance anyway. Just a little while longer."

"Half an hour, then we duck back out here?"

"Sounds good."

*

Returning to the ballroom felt wrong. It was ten times more irritating than it had been before, but there were a few new people on the floor, including the head of pediatrics and one of the donors whose name was in the top tier on the plaque in the ED. So he guessed he was glad they decided to be responsible about shit. 

They briefly spoke to a couple of other residents, one that looked them over and clearly considered them a pair of some sort. Robby also stopped by for a moment, on what appeared to be a tour of the room to thank all his underlings for putting a good face on the unit. He looked annoyingly handsome and not nearly as uncomfortable as Dennis had imagined he would be, not that either he or Frank could look him in the eye after the conversation they'd just had.

Eventually, Trinity caught Dennis's eye from across the room and raised an eyebrow, giving him a bewildered smile as she very purposefully nodded at who he had in his company. He just shrugged, and she smiled in a way that he could read as sarcastic – as Whatever you say, bro – from across the room. He considered flipping her off, but that felt a little too aggressive, so instead he stuck out his tongue. Clearly amused, Trinity leaned over to tell Mel and point not-so-subtly at them. Mel looked halfway surprised (she did that head tilt that indicated some level of confusion), but she was smiling.

Frank had been chatting with a buddy from ortho, but he separated from them just in time to see Dennis frowning across the floor at their giggling friends.

"So," Frank said, "are they dating?"

Dennis laughed out loud. "Wait – you don't know, either?"

"I know they're going out together sometimes."

"Texting at lot, too."

"Really?" Frank said. "Wow. But, yeah, she's been uncharacteristically vague about it. Secretive, you know – but in the way you might protect something good."

"Yeah. It's definitely a good thing, whatever it is. They've both been lonely, I think."

Frank nodded.

"Although," Dennis said, "it doesn't seem very secretive at the moment." 

He drew Frank's gaze to where Mel and Trinity were chattering and lowkey dancing along to the music, in a world of their own. He was pretty sure some kind of alcohol was involved, and he said as much.

Frank said, "I would be very surprised if Mel could hold any amount of liquor."

"Yeah, according to Trinity, she's good for one drink only. Not because she gets wild or anything, just sleepy."

Frank giggled, then he tilted his head a little closer and said in a confidential tone, "What about you? Do you get wild?"

Holy shit, he thought. He did his best to reply with casual coolness: 

"Depends on what you mean." Without turning to face him, he added with a sly grin, "But definitely possible, with or without the…social lubrication."

He turned his head and met Frank's eyes then, and the man didn't look away. In fact, he'd swear he was coming over in a blush, which was the cutest fucking thing he'd seen in ages. 

It was a decisive moment. A small but fortifying rush of adrenaline washed over him. He could let that exchange hang between them, feed into whatever it was making them want to linger together. Maybe he should. But there was always a chance this was a singular moment, never to be recaptured, unless…

"How many minutes has it been?" Dennis said. 

(Last time he glanced at his phone, it had been 19 minutes. There was no way they were at half an hour yet.)

Langdon's face bloomed into a smile as he evidently realized that Dennis not only understood what he was after – whether he'd actually intended to follow through or not – but was fully on board.

"Enough," Frank said. "Surely."

Dennis tilted his head, indicating the side door, hopefully without looking completely desperate. Frank ducked his own head, trying to hide how he was very clearly blushing like a motherfucker now. But that didn't stop him from leading him out of their little corner of the ballroom and down the little hallway toward the loading dock.

*

This time, they let the big door bang shut. Dennis halfway expected them to settle back in like they had been before, to continue slowly drawing together. That could be fun. But Frank quickly planted himself in front of him, eager but maybe a little wary. Maybe even like he was half afraid he'd misread the situation. 

So Dennis stepped closer – past the point of friendliness to a place of very clear intent – and tried very hard to look unruffled and confident without scaring the man away. He knew he'd succeeded when Langdon reached out his hand to tip his chin up. In the end, Dennis was the one to bring their faces together and brush his lips over Frank's, which the man answered with a soft, slightly trembling kiss.

Frank's hand was warm on his neck, and he tasted a little like that lime in his glass. He kissed like he didn't realize he was so hot he didn't have to be good at turning someone on with a teasing flick of the tongue or a small, sharp bite to his bottom lip. Dennis stepped even closer, desperate for friction, which made Langdon pull him deeper into the kiss, now really thrusting his tongue into his mouth. 

It didn't take long before they were both hard, although at first they weren't doing anything more than letting their bodies rest together. The palm Frank had on Dennis's neck slipped down to the open vee of bare skin at his chest. His other hand patted at his cheek but then was suddenly down at his waist, slipping around it to press into the small of his back, to bring their bodies flush together, their cocks pressed against each others' hips, hot and hard. It was way too much, especially considering they were technically out in the open, but Dennis very much didn't want to stop.

Dennis held Frank's face in his hands and took control of the kiss for a long beat, making the man give up a soft, low groan. In response, Frank nudged him into stepping backward until his shoulders and ass came to rest against the wall. Dennis tore his mouth away to gasp in a breath, which made him laugh to himself a little. Frank immediately began nibbling at his neck, and his hands were now on Dennis's hips as he fully rubbed their erections together. It made the man gasp against his neck while Dennis choked back a whimper. He couldn't help but reach down and grab that flat little ass in both hands, making the grind of their bodies so much harder and better. 

"Fuck," Frank muttered, mouth moving again, leaving a trail of biting kisses from under his jaw up toward his ear. 

Dennis needed to hear and feel more of his reactions. Frank was all restless energy and constant motion, and making him squirm like this was intoxicating. 

Dennis knew exactly what he wanted. 

"Can I suck you off?" he murmured. 

Langdon didn't pull back, exactly, but all of his movements slowed. 

Finally, he replied: "Look, I'm not–"

Dennis kissed him to stop whatever excuse was about to come out of his mouth. He knew this was potentially very stupid. He also couldn't think of anything more important right now than getting that beautiful man's cock in his mouth.

Dennis pulled back enough to hold his gaze, saying, "I'm not asking you for anything, and I won't tell anybody. If you want me to do it, it doesn't matter if you're gay or not."

He watched a minor war break out on Frank's fave, confusion and concern and what looked very much like amusement flickering in his expression by turns. Dennis let him pull back a little father, although their hips were still resting together, still shifting a little.

"That's not– I mean, I'm not gay, but that's not what I was trying to say." He drew in a shallow breath and exhaled in an amused rush. "I am bi. To be fair, that's mostly theoretical, but…"

"By mostly you mean…?"

"Basically no experience." He rolled his eyes at himself a little. "Didn't realize it when I was in high school, not really. Got married between college and med school." His eyes closed and added, "Technically still married, if that's a…problem."

"I already know that, so, no," Dennis said as he ducked his head and kissed Frank's neck.

"I've made out with guys before," Langdon was murmuring, his voice vibrating the skin under Dennis's lips, "but never anything more than that. Than this. But it's not because I'm confused or whatever."

Dennis had already been pretty into where this was going, but that admission made him feel impossibly aroused and even more eager – which he was clearly doing a piss-poor job of hiding.

Frank giggled and said, "You don't even mind, do you?"

"At all."

"Even if I don't know what I'm doing — at all?"

"I mean, I hope you already know how to receive a blowjob."

Frank grinned again. Fucking beautiful face, even nicer to look at when it was animated with something mischievous, something needy, something knowing.

At that, Frank ground into him again with real intent. It was all Dennis could do not to moan. 

Frank said, "I don't want this to be a one-way thing."

Dennis resisted the urge to kiss him again, even though he really wanted to get his lips on the man's mouth, his jaw, his neck, his throat, his everything.

He just said, "You've got great hands."

Like he'd been given a command – and wasn't that fucking delicious? – Frank reached down between them and sought out the bulge in Dennis's pants. A whimper escaped Dennis's mouth, which seemed to make Frank even more eager and focused. He was rubbing now, slow and not too hard, maybe like he was warming him up. As if Dennis wasn't so far past aroused that all this rubbing was kinda precarious. 

"You look so hot tonight," Frank said. "Fuck, you have no idea."

"Ditto," he managed to mutter as he felt his face heat and his body practically vibrate.

After another few seconds of groping, Dennis reached down and stilled his hand.

"You first," he said. 

"Here? That's what I was trying to say earlier. I'm not crazy about you being on your knees on the concrete."

"But perfectly okay with a little exhibitionism," he replied with a sly smile. "Noted."

Frank snorted, saying, "It's really fucking dark back here."

"Well," Dennis said, "my knees will be fine."

Frank drew in a tight breath. "You're sure?"

He was sure the knees of those pants were going to be permanently scuffed up, but he could not give a fuck at the moment.

"Are you?" he asked him.

Frank nodded insistently. 

Dennis said, "Then you have to be quiet, okay?"

He popped the button on the man's fly and unzipped it without looking, shoving an elastic waistband down until his dick slipped out. Frank pulled his dress shirt up and held it to his stomach as Dennis lowered himself to his knees, got a grip around the base of that leaking cock, and took the head in his mouth.

"Fuck," Frank muttered, sharp and tense with self-control.

Dennis looked up at him with a grin, which made Frank reach down and touch his face. 

Dennis started bobbing his head in earnest, his own arousal really throbbing to life with the bursts of precome on his tongue. When he looked up again, Frank's eyes were closed and he was clearly trying very hard not to thrust. So Dennis took his hand off the man's cock and gripped both his hips as he took him a little deeper.

"Holy shit," Frank murmured.

Frank was watching again. His hand came around the back of Dennis's head, and he apparently couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of his cock sliding between his lips. 

"Jesus," Frank muttered. "Feels so– Fuck."

Dennis moaned softly around him. He held his gaze as he took him deeper still, right into his throat for a few seconds before pulling back. It wasn't enough to gag him, but it brought tears to his eyes. Then he did it again, delighting at the way Frank's body was tensing and occasionally shuddering with pleasure. He had enough time to settle into a rhythm of it, but not much more than that.

"Shit, I'm—" Frank suddenly said, just before he held his head still and pushed in a little, spending down his throat. 

Dennis managed to swallow it all, then he tucked Frank back into his underwear and let him sort out his pants and shirt. 

As Dennis got to his feet, not daring a glance at the knees of his slacks, he was so hard he felt more than a little desperate. That wasn't helped by the sex-stupid look on Frank's face and how he wiped the stray tears from his cheeks before he leaned in to kiss the taste of himself from his mouth. Dennis waited patiently for Frank to finally reach down and grip his cock through his pants again. 

He made a whining noise in response, unable to articulate anything more than that. 

"I got you," Frank said, his voice soft and steady. He added with a self-deprecating chuckle, "I think."

He was already working a hand down into his underwear, and he soon got those fingers around his dick and gave it a couple of experimental tugs. 

"God," Dennis said. Then, mortifyingly: "Please."

"Please what?"

Dennis laughed, muttering, "Please don't make me come in my pants."

"I don't know," Frank said. "Might be kinda hot."

He started to protest, but Frank was already undoing his fly and pulling him out. The chilly air felt nice on his skin. There was no possibility of him actually getting cold, though, because Frank's hot body was crowded up against him as he quickly got him in his grip again. 

He rested his head on the man's shoulder and tried not to groan when he started stroking.

"Tell me if I'm doing this right," Frank murmured, nudging his head so that he could press his lips to Dennis's neck again.

"It's good."

"I'm serious."

"It isn't neurosurgery. Honestly, right now I'm so turned on I'm trying not to just…"

Langdon gave his neck a friendly nip, then he muttered, "Shit. We're gonna make a mess."

"Fuck."

"Wait," Frank said. "Turn around."

Before he knew it, he was spun until he faced away from him, then pulled back against his body. Frank's arm circled his waist so he could take him in hand again. 

"Better," Frank muttered. "And a fucking incredible view."

He was looking down over Dennis's shoulder to watch his other arm wrap around Dennis's waist, his hand splay flat over his stomach. He had a feeling Frank would be devastating to have in bed, all nervous chatter and biting kisses and eager hands, maybe even some very welcome manhandling. The thought made what they were doing – out here in the open, the taste of Frank's release on his tongue, the real possibility that they wouldn't be the only partygoers prepared to sneak off for a smoke – feel even more charged. 

It didn't take long for Frank to figure out the speed and grip that made his abdominal muscles tense and his breath catch. Dennis lay his head back against Frank's chest, which made Frank even more touchy with his stomach. Then that hand slipped down to gently cup his balls, and Dennis couldn't stop a low whine from coming out. So Frank gave his balls a little squeeze, and Dennis felt himself teetering over the edge.

With a quiet groan, he spilled over Frank's fist, although most of the ejaculate landed on the concrete in front of them. Frank kept stroking him through it, only taking his hand back when Dennis reached down to still it.

"Fuck," Dennis murmured, letting himself relax into the man's arms for a moment.

Frank didn't say anything, and although his body felt calm and he made what sounded like a couple of small noises of contentment, Dennis was a little wary. He wouldn't be the first guy to change his mind in the aftermath. He didn't think he would, though, so he was mostly just doing a friendly check-in when he said:

"You're not freaking out, are you?"

"No," Frank replied, amused, like it was startled out of him. "Definitely not. That was…surprisingly sexy."

"Surprisingly?"

"That sounded like an insult, didn't it?"

"A little."

"Not meant to be."

He nudged Dennis into turning to face him again so he could give him a kiss on the mouth. While he watched him tuck himself back into his underwear and slacks, he looked down at his sticky knuckles and decided, apparently, that it was most expedient to clean them up with his tongue, which was just…

Between licks, Frank said, "I meant that it was hot in a way I didn't exactly expect from the location. But I should have known I couldn't get my hands on you without it being…a lot."

Something warm bloomed in his stomach.

"Why does that sound like you've thought about this before?"

"This?" He held up his sticky hand. "No." Frank gave him a somewhat sheepish smile, adding, "But you? Yes."

And that, more than anything else tonight, made Dennis's face flush.

He didn't think it was possible to be more stunned. He had become an avid Frank watcher, in spite of himself, but there was nothing in the man's behavior that indicated Dennis was anything other than a person he was maybe starting to vibe with, finally. Kind of carefully, actually.

He grinned, thinking, Fucking hell. Of course.

"Is that weird?" Frank asked.

Dennis shook his head vehemently. "No."

He felt a stupid grin take over his expression and threaten to never leave again. But the wheels were turning in his head, too.

"So did you, like, bring me out here to seduce me?" Dennis asked.

Frank smiled and said, "Earlier, you mean? Because I think the intent was clear the second time, and that was mostly you."

"Uh huh," he said with a grin.

"Seduce is probably overselling it a little, but, yeah – an attempt was made."

"Why?"

"Why do people usually flirt or whatever?"

"I mean, why me?"

"I like you. Even better now that we've had a chance to…talk." He tilted his head a little and added, "I already thought you were kind of mesmerizing. Now that I know how those long fingers look holding a cigarette?" He shook his head, grinning.

Dennis felt the blush deepen on his cheeks, and now it spread down to his chest, where Frank's fingers were tripping up and down the bare skin between his lapels. 

Trying to deflect a little from the earnestness of it all, Dennis said, "You wanna get out of here, maybe go find some real food somewhere?"

But Frank was not at all fooled.

"Are you making an attempt, Whitaker?"

"Dennis."

"Dennis," he said with a nod.

"Perhaps," Dennis said. 

Frank smiled at him as he finally let him go and immediately fished the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"So," Frank said, "are we headed to my car or walking somewhere?"

Dennis watched him light a cigarette and take a drag. Impossibly beautiful, but not just that. 

"I saw a Mexican restaurant on the ride over," Dennis said. "A few blocks up. It looked like it was doing good business, so it's probably at least, you know, edible."

Frank giggled. "Worth a try. Please tell me you have a good sense of direction."

"I do. But also, like you, I have a tiny mapping computer in my pocket if it comes to that."

Frank gave him the eye roll he was fishing for, then he said, "A walk sounds nice."

Dennis nodded.

Frank ashed the cigarette and handed it over to him, saying, "Lead the way, then."