Chapter Text
Dr. Dennis Whitaker, the newest resident, yet a returning member to the Pitt team, recently got accustomed to snapping pictures of things he needed to remember. Vital signs, lab results, wounds (with permission of course), all HIPAA compliant with no identifying patient information. It would all be deleted after his shift, but it helped keep him organized.
This is what led him to Dr. Robby’s side, phone in hand, as he asked for his opinion on his most recent patient. Unfortunately, the ECG machine malfunctioned and he couldn’t get a paper copy, so he snapped a picture. It was a complete heart block, and Dennis needed confirmation on if they should do temporary pacing or wait for cardiology since the patient was stable.
“Here, sorry, I don’t have the paper copy,” Dennis passed his phone to Robby as he went over the situation. They were standing next to each other, shoulders inches apart.
Dennis missed, craved his attending’s touch again. Ten months was way too long to be touch starved from Robby’s guiding and supporting hands. Since he returned, every time Robby gripped his shoulder or splayed a hand between his shoulder blades, it felt like he’d been drowning and finally got a deep, fresh breath of air.
It’s just a need for approval. That’s it.
He repeated that to himself as he tried to prove that he absolutely was not crushing on his attending. The dreams he had about Dr. Robby while away that left him panting, shaking, and on the verge of spilling himself were just wild coincidences.
The inch between their shoulders felt like a canyon to Dennis. He desperately wanted some form of touch from this man.
Cool it, Dennis.
He watched as Robby took his phone, fingers brushing his briefly. Robby slipped his glasses on and peered down at the phone, extending his arm to get the right distance to read.
God, he’s old.
Robby’s age was hardly a deterrent for Dennis. He admired how experienced he was. He spent every day committing to memory the wrinkles around his eyes and the grey hairs speckled about his beard.
“Hm, yeah, complete heart block, if he’s stable keep the pads on him in case we need to pace, but we’ll wait for cardiology before transvenous pacing.”
Dennis should have considered how old Robby really was, and how social norms have changed between their ages. It was a split second, not fast enough for Dennis to react, when Robby swiped on the photo in a search for more information.
However, Dennis deleted all of his medical photos after each shift. He wasn’t a big picture taker to begin with, which left Robby staring at the last photo he took a few weeks ago that Dennis promised himself he’d delete and completely forgot.
There, in front of the both of them, was a picture of Dennis’s bare chest. Not just his bare chest, but the additions that Trinity convinced him would be a “hit with the guys” and he had to get. Nipple piercings.
Dennis snatched his phone out of Robby’s hand, dropping it in the process.
“Oh—oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t mean for that to...” Dennis scrambled to pick up his phone.
When he dared to look back up at his attending, he had an eyebrow raised, glasses off.
“Remember not to go to MRI with your patients.”
He patted his shoulder and walked off. Dennis cringed at the thought of what would happen if he stepped in the same room as an MRI machine. He wanted to crawl into his bed and never show his face in the Pitt again.
~
Robby bee-lined for the nearest bathroom. He needed cold water fast. His body hasn’t reacted to just a picture this fast since the porn magazines he hid under his mattress as a teenager.
Dennis Whitaker has nipple piercings.
Robby never particularly thought about the attractiveness of piercings, but seeing them on Dennis’s bare chest made him dizzy.
He threw the cold water on his face and stared up in the mirror.
Get a hold of yourself—you’re almost 30 years older than him.
It didn’t help. Nothing he told himself helped. He’s been telling himself the million reasons why he shouldn’t be attracted to Whitaker since they met. Nothing stopped the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts of his intern. He’d been a mess since he left and even worse since he returned.
He took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to will the blood flow back to his brain and not his dick. He needed to go out there and be a completely professional, rational attending. He could go home and do whatever he needed to get rid of this feeling, but for now he needed to push it away and get back to work.
Ten minutes of thinking about the last two traumas later he entered the Pitt again with a mission to avoid Whitaker for the rest of his shift. If he did need him, he would pretend to look at something else when he talked to him. That was the plan.
The plan was so close to working. He avoided his resident for the rest of the shift, thanking any and every higher power that he wasn’t needed.
He had a plan to go home, give into the thoughts just for a little while to get rid of the energy that had built up over the shift, then shove it down and never think about it again. Instead, Whitaker grabbed his arm as they left the hospital and followed him up the stairs.
“Hey, Dr. Robby, listen, I just wanted to apologize again.”
Robby could barely bring himself to face the younger doctor. When he glanced down and met Whitaker’s gaze, he wanted to bury his face in his pillow and never return to the Pitt.
“It’s no problem.”
The cool night air suddenly felt heavy, sticking to his neck and face like a layer of sweat. Whitaker didn’t move, but it didn’t quite seem like he was done speaking.
“Can I make it up to you?”
Yes.
“No.”
Robby winced at how quickly he responded, “sorry, I mean, it’s not something you have to do. I shouldn’t have swiped on the picture.”
Really, he shouldn’t have. He didn’t know why, maybe he thought there would be more ECG on the next slide, it was just habit. Apparently a bad habit to have. Why Whitaker was trying so hard to apologize was beyond him.
“What about a drink? To, uh, make up for it.”
Robby’s eyes snapped back to Whitaker, who was staring at the ground. Surely his resident meant something like beers between two men who’d had an unfortunate accident happen. Something casual, and most of all, straight.
Robby must have been thinking too long because Whitaker started rambling, “I just thought, we both have tomorrow off, maybe a couple of drinks wouldn’t be horrible, if you wanted, not that you have to…”
“Sounds good,” he cut him off. He was right, he had tomorrow off, and a drink sounded like heaven, even if it was with the person who made him want to drink until he forgot what happened today. Whitaker beamed, a look that Robby wanted to etch in his mind.
“Great, I know a place a few blocks down, it’s quiet, but I like it.”
He glanced down to Robby’s helmet that was clipped onto his backpack.
“It’s not too far of a walk, or if you want to drive I can meet you there, I’ll have to walk.”
Robby realized how much he talks when he’s nervous, and how absolutely adorable that is.
Adorable? Robby needed a drink and he needed it now. If he’s thinking of a fully-grown man as adorable, he’s going to need the strongest spirit that bar has.
“I’ll take you.”
Robby’s body was moving on its own, fighting against every impulse his nervous system was sending to stop. Before he knew it, he was sliding his helmet on Whitaker’s head and admiring how he looked in his things. He let himself imagine Whitaker in his jacket, shirts, sheets…
No.
Robby shook his head, urging himself to stop the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts of his resident. The resident who was now gripping his waist as he sped down the street. He felt the warmth of Whitaker’s body pressed up against his back, his hands flat against his stomach. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Whitaker’s hands were purposefully wandering—just a few inches, but enough for Robby to notice. It was probably his first time riding, and he just needed to find his bearings. That’s all.
The bar they pulled up to wasn’t crowded. Inside was bathed in a red glow from overhead neon lights competing with warm yellows of the light fixtures that hung above scattered high top tables. A few patrons mingled around the bar, men, women, mostly younger, around Whitaker’s age.
The music was different—things he’s heard before from the nurses or the younger staff. Nothing he or Dana would listen to if they had control of the break room playlists. Whitaker was right, though, it was more quiet than the usual bar at this time of night, and he greatly appreciated that.
Dennis led them through, finding a spot at the bar closer to the corner, away from the louder parts of the crowd. He was sure if he looked down right now, he would be able to see his heart pounding out of his chest.
It felt like a dream. This is how a few of his dreams started, but he was sure this wouldn’t end like his dreams. He knew Dr. Robby was just being nice. But seeing him, wrinkles deepened in the dim bar lighting, eyes scanning over the drafts while his hands fiddled with the paper coaster the bartender left out, made Dennis say a silent prayer that maybe his dreams could come true.
“Hey, Garrett!” Dennis waved towards the familiar employee. Garrett was one of the only full-time bartenders here, from what Dennis and Trinity gathered as they made this bar their unofficial post-shift hangout. They’ve talked a bit, Trinity pushing Dennis to give him his number but he always declined, using the excuse that they’d have to find another bar if things didn’t work out and this one was too good to lose.
“Hey, Dennie,” he smiled, sliding a few napkins towards both men. He leaned against the bar, his long, muscular arms propping him up as he spoke with Dennis. Dennis could feel the side eye from Robby as he heard his nickname.
“No Trinity tonight?” He asked, eyes roaming up and down Robby’s frame with an uncertain curiousity. Dennis shook his head.
“No, this is Dr.—I mean, this is…Robby.”
“Well, nice to meet you Robby, I’m Garrett.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Robby smiled. It was a curt, polite smile, one that Dennis has seen plenty of times before when Robby didn’t want to stick around to chat.
“What can I get started for you boys?”
Dennis ordered a gin and tonic. Robby ordered a beer and Garrett left to fulfill their orders.
“So you and Santos come here a lot, Dennie?”
Dennis let out a breathy chuckle at the way Robby stressed his nickname. It sounded way better when Robby said it, but Robby could call Dennis anything and he’d claim it as his own name.
“Yeah, we come here, mostly on Wednesday nights, girls get the first drink free, and Garrett gives me a pass, too. Something about the girls and the gays sticking together.”
It slipped right off his tongue. It wasn’t that he was necessarily trying to hide that he was gay, he’d come to terms with that a while ago. If anyone asked, he’d tell them the truth and for the most part he wasn’t ashamed to share. But when he’s staring down his attending who plagued his wet dreams nightly, it was a much heavier confession than he expected.
Robby barely missed a beat, though, avoiding further questioning about his comment.
“Wish I had a place like this when I was in med school.”
Garrett returned with their drinks then focused his attention on the other customers waiting their turn. Dennis watched as Robby sipped from the bottle, feeling lightheaded from the way his lips met the glass and how his neck bobbed when he swallowed. He forced himself to focus on his own drink in an attempt to quell the heat building in his stomach. Dennis squeezed the lime that sat atop the ice cubes and swirled it before taking a sip. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat, but it was an adequate distraction from the older man next to him.
Robby lowered his voice, following the bartender whose back was turned to them, “so you and Garrett…?”
Dennis nearly choked on the rest of his drink from the question, “Oh, god no.”
Robby nudged him with his elbow, “come on, Dennie?”
“He’s, uh…” Dennis looked down at his drink, utterly disappointed that he’d already drained the liquor, “…not my type.”
He needed another drink soon, more for confidence now than comfort. He waved down Garrett who promptly returned with another gin and tonic.
Robby waited until the bartender was out of earshot before speaking again, “so, you have a type.”
Dennis drained half the drink in one go, desperately waiting for the buzz to set in.
“Yeah.” He’d been avoiding eye contact since they got their drinks, stealing glances at the man next to him but never long enough to discern his expression. When he finally gained the courage to look up, he was met with a curious, interested gaze, like Dennis was a new and exciting ER case. He didn’t feel like he was being examined, though, just that Robby seemed genuinely interested.
“You don’t have a type?” Dennis probed.
“Well yeah,” he sipped, draining the last bit of beer, “Garrett’s too tall for me.”
Dennis felt like his heart stopped. Did Robby just…come out? Was he joking? Garrett was pretty tall, Dennis remembered him saying he was 6’3” at some point. He had to have been joking.
He tried to remain calm, not wanting to seem surprised at his statement.
“So, your type is short,” Dennis ran his thumb along the condensation around his glass.
“Let’s play a game,” Robby started. Dennis looked up at Robby, but he changed his focus to Garrett, who he flagged down for another beer. Dennis gulped the last few sips of his second drink down and asked for a third. Once the men had their refills, Robby continued, turning his body on the barstool towards Dennis. He could feel the heat radiating from his body, their knees less than an inch from touching. Dennis rotated his body to match and followed with a long sip of his cocktail.
“The game. Speed run. Give me one attribute for your type and I’ll give you one back.”
Dennis silently thanked God for the wonderful creation of alcohol. He felt the corners of his mind begin to loosen. This game would have sent him into a whirlwind of anxiety if he was completely sober, but as the gin began to set in, he felt a thrill from this proposal.
“Okay, you go first though.”
Robby shook his head, “Fine. Ready?”
Dennis set his glass down completely, his sight fully dedicated to Robby. He could see the playful glint in his eyes, his mouth twitching upward in a grin. He nodded slowly, trying to come up with generic characteristics he could use to bullshit his way through this.
“Smart.”
Dennis rolled his eyes, “Of course your type is smart you’re a doctor!”
Robby held is finger up, “Nuh uh, you broke the rules. Speed run remember? You have to give me two now.” He sipped his beer, hardly hiding the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Dennis groaned and leaned back.
“Taller than me, but not too tall that it hurts…and funny.”
Robby’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the game, “dedicated.”
Dennis rolled his eyes again, “Experienced.”
“Blue eyes.”
“Brown eyes.”
Dennis decided he would just match whatever category Robby spat out next. He wasn’t quite sure how they determined who won this game Robby came up with but he was dedicated to winning.
He was so focused on coming up with words that he didn’t realize how close they leaned in towards each other. Their faces were inches apart as Robby deliberated his next answer.
“Nipple piercings.”
Dennis felt those words hang in the air. He wanted to close the gap, to let Robby devour him until there was nothing left. His confession felt like vice around his chest.
“Motorcycle rider,” Dennis finished, sealing his fate. Robby’s eyes searched his, silence stretching between the two. Neither of them moved, waiting for either one to break first. Their breaths, gin and beer, mingled in the air between them.
“Let’s go,” Robby finally breathed. Dennis nodded, words escaping his mind. Robby’s presence filled his head competing with the gin that had taken hold.
He vaguely remembers Robby slapping a few bills on the bar top—something Dennis would have to reimburse him for later as he was the one that was supposed to be paying—and Robby’s grip on his wrist as he led him back out to his bike. He wasn’t even near blacking out from the alcohol, but he might as well been from the daze Robby put him in.
Dennis clung to Robby’s frame, hands moving more freely than before, one reaching down to Robby’s thigh, drawing out a faint, hardly audible “fuck” from Robby.
Robby accelerated down the street, away from the bar, and in the opposite direction of Dennis’s apartment.
~
Robby felt his body betraying every rational thought that was telling him to stop. Whitaker was his resident—a new resident, someone close to 30 years younger than him. He was supposed to be a role-model, not someone who gives into every dirty thought he has about his coworker.
None of that mattered when Whitaker casually dropped that he was gay at the bar, or when he realized Whitaker was describing him as his type as much as he was describing Whitaker as his. It didn’t matter when Whitaker was feeling him up for the 10 minute ride from the bar, and it definitely did not matter when he was following him up the stairs to his apartment.
Robby fumbled with his keys, shoving his door open as soon as he felt the lock open. He had Whitaker inside and pressed up against the door in seconds, hands planted on either side of his head.
He was always so wide-eyed and innocent at work. But here, staring up at him, was something much more intense. It wasn’t just a drunk decision to come home with his attending, Whitaker’s eyes were glazed over in pure need.
“Whitaker—“
“Dennis,” he cut off.
“Dennis, you don’t have to—“
Dennis interrupted a second time, closing the gap between them and attacking Robby in a hungry kiss. Dennis pulled at his jacket in a desperate attempt to get closer. Robby obliged, pressing his body against his, pinning him to the door.
“Will you stop interrupting me,” Robby breathed. He didn’t mind at all, despite his tone. Any chance to get closer to Dennis was a win in his book.
“You were gonna say I don’t have to do anything,” he rolled his eyes then tugged on Robby’s lower lip with his teeth, “I know that.”
Dennis slid a hand under Robby’s shirt, splaying his fingers across his lower stomach. He inched his thumb just underneath his waistband. Robby’s cock twitched, already uncomfortably hard in his scrub pants.
“I’ve been dreaming about this since my first day,” Dennis’s voice was low, but confident, “and if you make me wait one more minute I will go insane.”
Robby sucked in a breath as Dennis moved his hand to graze along his length over his pants. The realization that Dennis wanted this, too, since as long as he did lit a fire in his chest.
“Fuck, Dennis,” Robby was barely restraining himself, but any semblance of self control dissolved when Dennis found his lips again, snaking his tongue into his mouth. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected them. Robby couldn’t stop the overwhelming urge to feel those lips around his cock.
“Down,” he instructed and Dennis complied instantly sinking to his knees. His legs felt like jelly at how willing and eager his partner was.
Dennis ran his hands up and down Robby’s thighs, patiently waiting for more instruction. Robby could feel the pre-cum soaking his boxers as Dennis stared up at him with an expectant gaze.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Robby complimented. He brought one hand down to stroke Dennis’s chin, “I bet you’ll look even better with a mouth full of my cock, huh?”
Dennis whimpered, “only one way to find out.”
Robby could barely believe the words coming out of his own mouth, and even less so the receptiveness of his resident to them.
Dennis slid his fingers around his waistband and pulled, finally setting Robby free. He felt relief from the tight constraint but even more of an ache to be inside Dennis in any way possible.
Dennis traced his tongue up and down the shaft, twirling around the tip in an agonizingly slow yet intentional display.
After what felt like forever to Robby, he sank his mouth down onto his cock, gagging as he reached the back of his throat. Dennis stalled then pulled back before taking him all again. He bobbed his head, creating a steady rhythm that had Robby’s knees shaking.
Robby soon began to feel his release building. He had to stop; he wasn’t nearly done with Dennis yet.
“Up,” he grabbed Dennis by the shoulder and hauled him up, tucking himself away again. He captured his lips, swollen and covered in spit.
“I want to see them.” Robby never wanted a picture to come to life so badly as the one he saw earlier today.
“Were you having dirty thoughts about me at work after you saw them?” Dennis questioned playfully. Robby pressed his leg between Dennis’s, earning a moan.
“Of course I was,” Robby ran his mouth down his neck, stopping to bite near his collar bone. He didn’t care if it left a mark—he wanted to leave something on him to show that Dennis was his, even if it was just for tonight. He pushed Dennis’s scrub top up, hands moving up and down his torso, mapping each curve and line before finally lifting it all the way up and off. Robby stared, his mind going completely blank, only filled with the scene in front of him.
“They’re still not healed fully,” Dennis admitted and Robby noticed a sheepish tone seeping into what was previously the most confident he’d ever seen the man.
“I’m not supposed to have them licked or…anything for a few more months…”
Robby ran his hand below his peck, far enough away from the piercings to avoid touching. He didn’t care, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend how lucky he was that Dennis was just here with him, piercings or not.
“So, what you’re saying is,” Robby grabbed Dennis’s ass and hoisted him up to carry him, “I’ll just need to keep coming back.”
Dennis wrapped his legs around him, arms clutching his shoulders for support. He seemed to hesitate for his response and Robby slowed his pace to his bedroom.
“Do…you want to keep doing this, like after?”
Robby finally arrived at his bed and pressed Dennis’s back into the sheets.
“If you’re asking me what I want with you, yes, I want to keep seeing you. But, Dennis,” Robby paused, gripping Dennis’s ass like his life depended on it, “if you make me wait any longer to be inside of you I’ll be the one to go insane.”
Robby could feel the tension ease in his partner’s body. The answer couldn’t have been more natural for Robby. He did want more with Dennis, he wanted everything.
“Yes, sir.”
Robby groaned, “you like being told what to do, don’t you?”
Maybe it was his experience that made Robby so used to commanding, or maybe it was his need to be everything Dennis needed right now that made it easy for him to talk to him like this. Dennis nodded in response. Robby gripped his chin, his fingers digging into his cheeks.
“Use your words.”
He watched the neediness flash in Dennis’s eyes.
“Yes, I do.”
Robby leaned back, peeling himself away. It was a regrettable action; he wanted to be close to him, but he needed to make this the best night Dennis ever had. He craved that place in Dennis’s mind—the best fuck he’s ever had.
“Take off your clothes.” He scooted back just enough to give Dennis room to comply. He quickly removed his pants, leaving him completely exposed. Robby was holding onto his self-control by a thread. The sight of Dennis’s erection against his smooth stomach made his mouth run dry. He was waiting for his next instructions and Robby had to scramble to get it together.
“Touch yourself,” Robby leaned slightly over Dennis, their bodies only inches apart, to produce the lube from his nightstand.
Dennis began to stroke himself with one hand in a slow, steady pace. With his other hand, he reached down and ran his fingers around his hole. He rolled his head back, eyes squeezed shut. Robby’s breathing hitched as he watched him slip his finger past the muscle, pulsing in and out in time with his strokes.
“Is this how you touch yourself when you’re alone?”
“Yes,” he choked out in reply between heavy breaths.
“What do you think about?”
Dennis pressed a second finger in, his body twitching at the sensation. He brought his head back up to stare at Robby.
“You. It’s always you.”
Robby broke. He couldn’t hold back any longer, not when he thought about Dennis alone in his room like this, moaning his name. He pulled his shirt over and off and finally freed himself from his pants. He crawled back over Dennis, pushing both his legs up and nestling himself between them. Dennis stopped touching himself, his gaze trained on Robby as he lathered his cock in lube and lined himself up.
“Ready?” Dennis nodded. Robby couldn’t stop himself enough to command him to speak this time. He pressed forward, pushing through the tight ring of muscle. Dennis sucked in a breath. Robby pushed in gradually, the only thing slowing him was the fear of hurting Dennis.
“Fuck, Robby,” Dennis moaned as Robby filled him. He fully sank into him and paused.
“You okay?” Robby ran a hand along his thigh.
“Fuck me, please. Don’t hold back.”
Robby took that as a yes and pulled back, pressing into him quicker this time, building up until he was slamming into him, each stroke eliciting a heavy moan from Dennis’s lips. The tight, wet grip that Dennis had on him was driving him to the brink of insanity. The way Dennis looked down at where their bodies connected sent him into a frenzy. He trapped his mouth, more tongue and teeth and breath than a kiss.
“Flip over,” Robby knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer and he desperately needed to be deeper. Dennis nodded and flipped, the cool air hitting Robby’s cock as he waited for him to get in position. It didn’t take long before he was sliding into him again, gripping his ass as he pulled him closer.
“Oh God, Robby,” Dennis was loud, but it was music to Robby’s ears. He didn’t care if he got angry letters or noise complaints from his neighbors tomorrow. He wanted more.
“Say my name,” he grunted, still pounding into him. Each thrust a new wave of euphoria, building up his climax.
“Michael, fuck.”
Robby thrust harder and faster, his partner taking it all willingly.
“You take my cock so fucking good.”
“I—I’m gonna—“ Dennis warned. Robby didn’t stop. He was close, too, and he wanted to feel Dennis tighten around him when he came.
“Do it, come for me.”
Dennis shook, tightening even more around Robby, the sensation better than Robby could have imagined. He was squeezing his cock, breaths and moans vibrating through his body.
Robby’s thrusts became erratic, jerking as he peaked, spilling into Dennis. Waves of pleasure ripped through his body as Dennis milked every drop from him. He was panting like he’d just run a marathon, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead.
He bent down, pressing his torso to Dennis’s back, placing kisses along his shoulder. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes as they caught their breath.
“I’ll get a towel.”
Robby pulled away. His body was already aching for more contact, but he decided he needed to function as a human being first.
“Hey, uh, Robby?” Dennis rolled onto his back, “Do you have another blanket? I kind of…” Robby looked down, where Dennis had just been on his knees and noticed the streams that soaked into the comforter. He laughed and nodded.
He returned shortly, tossing Dennis the towel and swapping out the blanket for the one that he kept on his couch. Soon, they both settled into the bed again, clean and somewhat clothed in their boxers. Dennis rested his head on Robby’s chest and breathed in the faint scent of cologne that still clung to him after his shift and their activities together.
Dennis was spent, his mind calmer than he’d expect after finally having his dreams come true. The dreams were a pale comparison to real life as he appreciated the soreness Robby left him with. He couldn’t even remember his hospital shift merely hours before this if he tried. His heart still pounded, replaying Robby’s words in his head.
“If you’re asking me what I want with you, yes, I want to keep seeing you.”
He hoped this wasn’t said in the heat of the moment, something to keep Dennis there until he was done. He was terrified of ruining this moment, the post-coital bliss both of them have fallen into. His eyes fluttered closed, Robby’s warmth lulling him to sleep.
A loud, funk song broke the still air and made Dennis jump. His phone.
He sprang up in a rush to grab it, stuck in his pants pocket wherever they were. He could hear Robby’s calm laugh as he tried to find it. When he finally did, Trinity’s name filled the screen. He answered quickly in hopes that he could avoid her wrath.
“Hey, where the hell have you been? Did you not see my million texts?!”
Dennis peeked at the phone, 23 texts, not quite a million, but still a good amount.
“Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t see them I was…” he glanced at Robby who was leaning against his headboard, shirtless, arm around the space he’d just been laying in, “…busy.”
“Busy!? How busy can you be to not text me ba—ohhhh.” Her tone shifted from angry to smug in half a second.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“You’re still with him?”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and felt Robby’s fingers graze his hip, “yeah, I’m still with him.”
“Is he hot?” She had no shame, even now knowing that he was still with his mystery man.
“Very. Can I go now?”
“Are you coming home tonight?”
Dennis glanced at Robby, whose grin had widened at his answer to the last question. He knew he heard Trinity, and he felt awkward answering when they hadn’t talked about it. Did Robby want him to stay?
“You can stay if you want,” he answered, no attempt to be quiet despite another one of his residents on the other line.
“DENNIS IS THAT ROBBY!?” She yelled through the speaker.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow won’t be home tonight,” he spoke quickly, then slammed his thumb on the end call button. He knew he’d have even more texts blowing up his phone any second now, so he turned it off, not wanting any more distractions for the night. He turned and leaned back into Robby’s body.
“So…you’re okay with her knowing?”
Dennis didn’t care. Trinity had become his best friend at this point, and he planned to tell her anyways if Robby was okay with it. He liked that someone else knew.
“I told you I wanted to keep seeing you, is that okay?”
He turned to kiss Robby, this time slow and deliberate, “more than okay.”