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Published:
2025-10-18
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1/1
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your skin tastes like last night

Summary:

Dennis Whitaker is fucked. So incredibly fucked. Thoroughly, like in one of those Reddit stories his nephews would listen to on Tiktok with a Minecraft video playing as a visual stimulation. (He’s supposed to turn those off, but hey, they catch your attention.)

Hey Reddit, I fucked my new boss without knowing he was my new boss the night before my first shift. Ask me anything!

Or, exactly what it says on the tin.

Notes:

robby got called cocksucker once in fifteen episodes and i took it personally. that's it. enjoy implications of cock sucking.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. Dennis knows he’s good—he wouldn’t be where he is if he wasn’t good at what he does. He's in his final year of med school, goddamnit—but a new department is always a new department. The first day is always a first day regardless of skill level.

Doctor McKay, as she introduces herself while showing where to get their scrubs, seems nice enough. Dennis follows as she explains everything while walking them through the Emergency Department, the mass of people in the waiting room looking irritated and tired. Seven AM, and based on some of their faces, they’ve been there since last night.

The following minutes go pretty much like this: Dennis gets handed a lukewarm takeaway cup of coffee that McKay had been holding just moments ago, he observes his first patient visit at the ER and after that, while still holding the cup and trailing behind McKay, sees someone he never thought he’d see again.

So.

Rewind to last night.

It was meant to be just a warm bed before a big day, a good night’s sleep for once.

Best sex of his life, guy of his dreams—big, bearded, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes with every smile, probably twice his age—and an awkward morning where Dennis dipped before the guy could give him his number to make it harder for Dennis to call it a one-time thing. Michael, Dennis remembers whimpering into the man’s neck while he’d had one of the best orgasms of his life from just two huge fingers up his ass and a hand gripping his hair tightly.

Yeah, that guy. And to his utter horror, Dennis realizes, it’s exactly him they go to next.

Their fucking attending? Jesus Christ.

Dennis Whitaker is fucked. So incredibly fucked. Thoroughly, like in one of those Reddit stories his nephews would listen to on Tiktok with a Minecraft video playing as a visual stimulation. (He’s supposed to turn those off, but hey, they catch your attention.)

Hey Reddit, I fucked my new boss without knowing he was my new boss the night before my first shift. Ask me anything!

If the situation wasn’t as horrifying, Dennis would crack a smile at his own joke.

Doctor Robby, as Dennis finds out, trails his eyes over Dennis without any sign of recognition. He knows it’s an act, it has to be considering it’s been two and half hours since they woke up next to each other in Doctor Robbys bed. Dennis follows suit, ignoring the cold shivers he gets as their eyes meet.

“Welcome to the Pitt.”

Ignoring it, Dennis catches up quickly, is harder than he expects. Every time he meets Doctor Robby’s eyes, he remembers the look he’d gotten all night. Full of lust, eyes wide, appreciative. He can still feel him, and thank the Lord he isn’t limping. That would be so bad.

Within half an hour, he’s managed to make a complete fool of himself in multiple occasions, hurt his finger and had forgotten to turn his phone on silent. He has to take a breather, lock himself in a toilet stall for a good thirty seconds to force his traitorous brain to cooperate with the rest of him.

Dr. Robby places his big hands on Dennis’ neck as he hurries past to present his case to Dr. Collins, stops him in his tracks. His eyes drop to Dennis’ lips before the mask falls back on. Dennis pretends his voice doesn’t shake.

(Losing a patient, Dr. Robby tells him silently with sad eyes, it always hurts. Dennis learns it the hard way. The affirmation of it not being Dennis’ fault comes with yet another hand on his shoulder. They bump into each other in the haste of going the opposite directions, and the momentary warmth of Dr. Robby’s body makes his skin feel hot and his ears redden.

When Dr. Robby nearly dismissively mumbles, “Even though you do everything right, you don’t always get what you hope for,” Dennis frowns after him and wonders.)

He learns the art of ignoring eventually, maybe four or five hours into his shift. His heartrate doesn’t pick up anymore whenever Doctor Robby no more than walks past, and he doesn’t immediately shake when there’s a pressure of a hand near the back of his neck anymore. Dr. Robby is just touchy, because of course he is, and Dennis figures it’s something he just needs to learn to live with.

And weirdly enough, even with literal rats still on their floor, Dennis enjoys this rotation a lot more than his last.

Of course the days goes to shit. Dennis wonder if it’s possible he jinxed it just by thinking he’s doing okay.

There’s an active shooter at Pittfest, and Dennis is vaguely aware Dr. Robby’s maybe-son is there, and he manages to worry for maybe two seconds before the hell breaks loose. Everything after that, he doesn’t have the time to think—patient after patient. He blocks out everything else, every other thought that could’ve crossed his mind on the last hours of his shift, gone. Blood, wristbands, whispers of a shooter in the building with them. Losses, that Dennis manages to silently avoid until he’s walking towards the makeshift morgue.

A morgue with cartoon animals on the walls. For God’s sake.

A morgue with–, “Dr. Robby?”

It all crashes immediately. The worry returns, everything from the morning, from last night, as he watches Doctor Robby shake on the floor, repeat words—lines? He’s holding the necklace Dennis remembers seeing on him last night.

Dennis bites the inside of his lip worriedly.

“Dr. Robby, you okay?”

Dennis hesitates for a moment. He’s not sure if he’s overstepping, but ends up sitting on the floor next to the Doctor—they might have fucked, and Dr. Robby might be touchy with him, but he’s not allowed to assume.

Robby stops reciting lines, but doesn’t meet Dennis’ eyes. 

“You need to go,” Doctor Robby says, and Dennis shakes his head. He lets his knee bump against Robby’s, and Robby doesn’t flee from the touch. “Go, they need you out there.”

There’s a thousand things Dennis could say, but none of them quite feel right. “I –, we need you out there,” he settles on. He can see Doctor Robby’s grip on the necklace tighten. Dennis wants to touch, wants to do something to help—he has the urge to wrap his hands gently around Robby’s wrists to guide them open, to guide him up. He ends up putting more pressure between their touching thighs, before getting up.

“Give me your hand.” Dennis offers his hand with a pleading tone in his voice. “Dr. Robby. Michael.”

Robby’s voice shakes along with his whole body. “I can’t.”

“You have to,” Dennis answers. “If you don’t, we’re fucked.”

Doctor Robby meets his eyes, and Dennis’ chest feels tight—seeing him, seeing Robby this utterly broken, it shouldn’t make Dennis feel dizzy the way it does. His voice cracks when he repeats, “Michael.”

Robby’s eyes drop to Dennis’ lips again. There’s some of that recognition he’s been waiting all day, vulnerability. He takes his hand, and Dennis helps him up.

“It’s Doctor Robby,” he says harshly, and shoves Dennis back. Not forcefully, but enough to make a point. Dennis opens his mouth to answer, to say sorry, or something, but ends up hovering awkwardly for a moment before just shrugging.

“Won’t happen again,” he mumbles, and straightens his back.

He gets a blanket from a shelf next to the first gurney, looks up to Doctor Robby once more, and leaves the room.

Doctor Robby catches up to him eventually. The situation has calmed down immensely, they’re slowly starting to get the patients sorted and it’s soon that the day shift can finally leave to sleep. Dennis tries to ignore the dooming feeling of having to still sneak back to the eight floor, tries to ignore the reality of life, and nearly manages to ignore the hard pressure of a hand on his shoulder.

“Whitaker,” Dr. Robby says. “Can I have a quick chat?”

Dennis isn’t sure what he expects. Maybe a back off, or a reminder of their situation, how he’s crossed boundaries. He isn’t prepared to get dragged behind a curtain next to an empty bed.

“Uh,” he starts, frowning. He tilts his head. “Seems so.”

Robby manages to look sheepish. “Have you told anyone?”

“About –?”

“Anything?” It sounds like a question. Like Robby isn’t sure what he’s asking himself.

“No,” Dennis answers regardless.

Robby nods. “Cool. Okay. Uh.”

Dennis nurses his lip and then groans. “Look–,” he starts.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Robby says at the same time. They both stop.

“You first,” Dennis offers.

Robby nods. “Whitaker, I’m sorry it took so long for me to pull you aside. It must be so awkward for you, coming in after not even leaving me any way to contact you—don’t get me wrong, the message was loud and clear—and then seeing me. I’m –,”

“It wasn’t because you were bad,” Dennis hurries in to say. “Just, a lot of going on in my life. Not stable. You were good, amazing.” He blushes as he realizes what he’s said and turns to look away momentarily, before turning back. Robby has a hand on rubbing his own neck awkwardly, and Dennis grimaces. “Sorry.”

“No, I–,” Dr. Robby starts over, “Shit, we should probably just forget it. Both last night and the morgue.”

He sounds so hopeful it makes Dennis nearly lose his balance. He closes his eyes.

“I don’t think I can,” he admits quietly.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you,” Robby says immediately.

“Not that. That’s forgiven. I also overstepped.”

“Oh,” Robby says. Their eyes meet, and Dennis sees Robby’s widen slightly.

“Fuck,” Dennis says simply. “Shit, uh.”

“I want to fuck you again,” Robby blurts out, and immediately snaps his mouth shut. “God, Dennis, it’s all I could think about today.”

Dennis shakes his head. “We shouldn’t,” he says almost desperately.

Robby groans, looks like he’s about to grab Dennis by the shoulder again before stopping himself.

“Has anyone seen Robby?” Dana’s voice carries through the curtain.

Their eyes meet. The conversation clearly isn’t over yet, but Robby waves his hand in a dismissive motion. “Let’s just wrap up the shift. Thank you, for before. Both. You’re a good kid.”

Dennis wraps his hand around Robby’s wrist. They both stop, Dennis’ breath catches his throat and Robby’s frown makes his laugh lines deeper.

“I could come over after?”

He knows it’s a bad idea. Robby seems to have the same thought.

“Fuck,” Robby says. “Fine. Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Robby nods. And then pulls Dennis closer by the neck, placing a kiss on his hair. They stay like that for a while, before Dennis sighs and steps back. “Let’s wrap up.”

Notes:

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