Work Text:
Hey
Interested in some fun tonight?
It wasn’t the most original line Dennis had ever gotten, but it was definitely a step above being sent a crummy dick-pic with wanna suck this? And it was starting to rain. The forecast claimed it was only going to get worse, turning into a full on downpour overnight. Dennis had hoped to be able to get into the 46th street shelter, but that was full, and the all night laundromat that he’d hung out in last time the weather had gotten bad had put up a sign against loitering. Dennis couldn’t risk getting the cops called on him, not as a third year medical student. He had so much to lose from a vagrancy charge. So, Grindr it was.
He clicked on the guy’s profile. Dennis had to be selective about his hookups - which sometimes made it hard for him to find one for the night. He’d had ‘dates’ go wrong before, and he didn’t want to risk that again, but things like “overnights okay” could override potential red flags. His personal preferences and tastes weren’t much of a consideration when he chose a partner. It wasn’t that he didn’t have them - he definitely did. But he couldn’t afford to be that picky. Things like attraction and interest weren’t his deciding factors. They were just a very nice bonus when they did happen.
Mike, 51, .4 miles away
6’2, 200 lbs.
Average/Athletic
Single
top/daddy dom, no strings attached
Vanilla friendly, BDSM friendly
scenes ok agreed upon in advance, safword non-negotiable
Can host
Well, that last line would probably have sealed the deal, even if Dennis didn’t like all of the stuff above it. The guy sounded pretty damn perfect, which didn’t happen often. Dennis preferred older guys, and he didn’t wanna psychoanalize his daddy issues, but fuck, a daddy dom who was over six foot and 200 pounds sounded amazing. Dennis clicked into the pictures eagerly.
Fuuuuuuck
Oh yeah, this guy was hot. Like, once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity hot. A broad chest covered in a thick patch of dark hair, the bottom of a beard that had a few streaks of silver, and at the bottom of the picture, a seriously impressive tent in grey sweatpants. The guy wasn’t gym-rat ripped, but seemed muscular in the way that comes from labor and natural physique. For Dennis, it was sexy as hell. He preferred the natural look to the oiled up steroid poster boys. Plus that bit of silver in the guy’s beard…. Yeah, Dennis was chubbing up a little. Probably not a good thing when standing outside a Wendy’s.
He swiped to the next picture, and hello! There was suddenly a cock on his screen. It wasn’t entirely unexpected. Most guys on Grindr had dick pics on their profiles. It was sort of on brand advertising for what the app was, really. Dennis had seen a metric shit-ton of dicks since downloading the app. This one was… good. The shot was decent without looking like it was artsy, and the dick itself was a nice one. Dennis could tell the guy had big hands, but his cock still looked big in it, with a natural curve that would be a-freaking-mazing for prostate stimulation if this guy had any idea how to use it properly.
But just because he had a nice package didn’t mean that the sex would be good - Dennis knew that first hand. So he swiped to the last picture, and just… blinked at it.
It wasn’t like any of the other pictures that were up on profiles. It was more real. It looked like a snapshot of a life, not just an artificially constructed image of someone worth fucking. The guy was on some sort of motorcycle, wearing dark, grease stained jeans and a t-shirt worn soft enough to cling. Most of his face was obscured by the bike’s mirror, but Dennis could see a screwdriver clenched between the man’s teeth. He was straining against a wrench, his leg braced for leverage. The guy’s thigh looked thick and hard, his bicep was bunched enticingly, and Dennis thought he might actually start drooling right there on the sidewalk.
Okay, yeah, he needed to fuck this guy.
Even if he ended up being a complete tool and a bad lay, Dennis wanted to at least get the eye candy first. It had been so long since he’d gone to bed with a guy who was his type. Sex had long ago lost most of its appeal. It was a way to get what he needed - a place to sleep. Wouldn’t it be nice to at least be attracted to the guy he was blowing or bending over for, for once?
Still, he knew better than to just assume that everything would work out perfectly. He’d still be cautious about it.
4 sure
What ru looking 4?
Better to find out now if this guy was actually married and wanting to watch someone fuck his wife - that night had gone badly. Or if he was secretly a sadist who’d want to whip Dennis bloody. Or if he was into something really messed up. Definitely better to be safe than sorry with this sort of thing.
The reply was almost instantaneous.
Just looking to unwind. Hookup, boundaries negotiable. You?
Well that was vague, but didn’t sound too crazy. Though unwind could be ominous.
pretty much same. U ok w/overnight? I’m not a fan of getting wham-bam-thanku-mam’ed
It had happened waaaay too often. And considering the whole point of these damn hookups was to have a decent place to sleep on the shitty nights, he really didn’t like getting kicked out as soon as the other guy got off. He’d had more than one person stop talking to him when he clarified this point.
Mike didn’t seem to mind, though.
Overnight is fine. I work early though.
Well that suited Dennis just fine. He was always up with the sun anyway, and he had a full day of labs tomorrow.
I’m an early riser. I’ll b out of ur hair b4 u even get up
It was only a moment before Mike was typing back, which was good because the rain was really starting to come down, and the employees in the Wendy’s were beginning to eye Dennis suspiciously where he was standing beneath the restaurant’s overhang.
Sounds good. Kinks you want me to know about? Hard limits?
That was a good sign. He wasn’t just assuming that Dennis would go along with whatever his kinks were. Dennis appreciated that.
Some daddy kink would b fun. only hard limits r the big 4.
Dennis had never heard the term ‘hard limits’ before Grindr. Then again, he’d never known how deviant sexual tastes could be before leaving Nebraska. He’d quickly learned some things were beyond even what he was willing to do in exchange for a place to sleep for the night.
That… leaves a lot of room for interpretation.
It did, but Dennis couldn’t really afford to be too particular, not when thunder was rolling in and the temperature was dropping. If he messed this up by being too picky, he was in trouble.
I’m a pretty easygoing guy 🤷
He almost worried that he’d overplayed it, but then the ellipsis started flashing, and a moment later the bubble popped up on his screen.
10?
Relief coursed through him. A location pin came after. It wasn’t even that far from where Dennis was. He jumped to reply right away, not wanting to risk the guy changing his mind.
looking 4ward 2 it 💦 💦 💦
***
It wouldn’t do him any good to take the bus, so Dennis walked toward the address on his phone, trying to keep his head down. He knew he looked a bit like a drowned rat on the best of days, but in this rain… shit, he’d be lucky if the guy didn’t turn him away at the door. That had happened once or twice. Thankfully, most guys were too hard up for a fuck to care all that much about how he looked. A willing hole was a willing hole.
He sort of hoped this guy would be a decent lay - or kind, at least - but tried not to get his hopes up. He had a long day of labs the next day, and it would suck to go in with a back ache and limp. The student lounge at UPitt had a decent first aid kit, which he’d had to make use of more than once since starting medical school. And he had Tylenol in his backpack to help with the ache if it got too bad. Still, it would be nice if he didn’t spend most of tomorrow miserable because this guy was too rushed or inconsiderate or whatever.
Nights like tonight, he missed the security of an apartment fiercely. If Adam hadn’t decided to room with his girlfriend, and Stephen hadn’t dropped out, and Ryan hadn’t gotten a place with his chem partner - or if one of them had bothered to let him know about it, then he might have had time to look for new roommates, and he might not be in this fucking mess right now.
He didn’t often like to think about how much his life had spiraled out of control in the past year.
Not that things had been picture perfect before this, but it hadn’t been quite so bad. Leaving home had been hard, but it wasn’t as though he could stay, not after the way his father had dragged him out of the barn where he’d been kissing John Stradford and then beat the living hell out of him. The writing had been on the wall long before that, but that was certainly the last straw.
He’d been lucky that his mom had helped him pack up after dad passed out drunk. She’d even given him some money, which he knew was more than she felt he deserved. But it had gotten him down to Omaha, and he’d had a soft landing when he got to the university and signed up for his theology major. He’d been able to get a scholarship, student housing, the whole nine yards. And when he’d ended up switching to medicine - he took the first decent medical school that would take him and never looked back.
He’d never left the state before driving out to Pittsburgh. It was technically smaller than Omaha, but it seemed like a whole different world. And medical school had been amazing. He’d met Adam and Ryan at orientation, and they’d agreed to rent an apartment together. Stephen joined them the following summer. He hadn’t been especially close to the guys - being a closeted, deeply troubled gay man didn’t make for tight bonds - but they’d gotten on well enough. Dennis had dedicated himself to studying and classes. He’d practically lived at the library his first year, and he’d taken as many labs as he could the second. He tried to convince himself that was why no one had thought to tell him when they decided to move out. He’d done nothing but sleep at the apartment in ages. They probably thought he didn’t even want to be there.
Or they were just inconsiderate assholes who couldn’t be bothered to think about how it could monumentally fuck up someone’s life.
Dennis wasn’t sure which was easier to believe.
Either way, he’d been without a place to stay all of a sudden, and how the hell was he supposed to afford first and last month’s rent on any place in the city when he didn’t have time for a job? His student loans covered most of what he needed - books and his phone and enough for some toiletries - but it wouldn’t be enough for an apartment on his own.
One of his lab partners had let Dennis stay on his couch for a few weeks while Dennis put up fliers looking for new roommates.
Somehow, it was easier to think of his life the way it was now, than to look back on those fraught few months. Now, he was Homeless. Then, he’d been something transitory. A regular guy struggling to keep his head above water. Half in one world and half in another. The fight to keep from being homeless had been exhausting. Terrifying. Being afraid of that first night on the street was actually much worse than the night itself, when it finally came.
There had been a sort of relief, when he finally ran out of options, when his part time job fired him for sleeping in the back room, when there were no more acquaintances that would let him sleep on their couch, when he’d used up the last of his money on a crummy motel.
All that struggling had been a special kind of exhausting, trying to keep himself from drowning. The actual drowning, while painful, was at least easier to just accept. Easy as slipping under the surface of the water. He wasn’t fighting against it, any more. He was Homeless, and that meant that things were different. His standards were different. His morals were different. His boundaries were different.
Homeless Dennis could do things that Dennis from the arrogant security of a home would never even think of doing.
Things like sleep under a bridge, with his backpack tucked against his chest. Things like go to a homeless shelter and take up a bed there. Things like eat scraps left behind at the cafeteria.
The problem was that it was impossible to get ahead of. Theoretically, he should be eating like a king. Without the expense of rent, he should have plenty to go around for other things. But motels - even shitty ones - were far more expensive than the daily cost of rent, and Dennis had foolishly spent more nights than he could really afford to in motels, in the beginning.
Looking back, he was furious how stupid he’d been. Warm, clear nights where he could have slept on a park bench, forking out huge chunks of money just for the safety of a locked door and a roof over his head. But there was a learning curve to being homeless, and it wasn’t a forgiving one.
The bigger issue now that he’d learned some of those more painful lessons was that he still had to maintain the image of a passing, housed medical student. Since he wasn’t in any sports, he didn’t have access to the university locker rooms and showers. So he did still need to fork over the unholy amount of cash required to rent a room at least once a week, so that he could shower and take care of himself. He was careful to always keep his clothes washed at the laundromat, and any bathroom with a sink could be used to brush his teeth and wash his face. But since he’d missed the opportunity to up his FASFA, he didn’t have access to an increase in his loans, and the money only went so far. Especially when his latest lab required an exorbitant equipment fee, and the exam fee for his NBME was due.
Three months after the first night he’d spent under a bridge, he was fifty dollars short of his USMLE fee. He’d budgeted for it at the beginning of the year, but that had been before his desperate fight against homelessness had drained so much of his finances. He’d been going without eating in hopes of saving up the amount he’d burned on motels, but it was slower going than he’d like. The exams were in two days, and the fee had to be paid before sitting for the exam and Dennis had been so, so fucked.
And then a guy stumbling out of a bar had looked him up and down and offered him fifty bucks to suck his dick.
It wasn’t that Dennis didn’t know how many homeless people turned to sex work to provide for themselves. But he didn’t ever think it would be something that applied to him. He wasn’t looking to score drugs, he wasn’t a good looking woman, he wasn’t out cruising gay bars. But here the opportunity was, staring him in the face, offering him the chance to continue his schooling - at the cost of his dignity.
He’d sucked the guy off in the alley and cried the whole time.
Sex work was not something Dennis had excelled at. Knowing that it was an option ate away at Dennis every moment of every day for a long time. Knowing that he could cross that line, that he was willing to go that far, sat heavy in his chest. And almost worse, was that knowing it was an option meant that every skipped meal, every shivering night, he was weighing against doing it again.
Dennis did it again. And again. And again.
It wasn’t difficult work, really. Dennis had managed a few fumbling hookups in undergrad, so he knew the basics. Most guys just needed a throat to fuck into or someone willing to bend over for them. He learned quickly to prep himself, because not all guys would do it - or would do a shit job of it. He learned to make himself pliant and just take it.
Sometimes, he liked that.
Sometimes, that terrified him.
And then - Toby.
He’d taken Toby’s money twice before, and felt comfortable letting the man fuck him in the bathroom of the club that Toby had first met him outside of. The guy had even been nice enough to buy him a drink the second time. Dennis liked the older man well enough, all things considered. He was sort of sweet, for all that he was soliciting gay sex from a guy half his age. He never stiffed Dennis on money, something he’d had more than one unfortunate experience with. He was never too rough. He liked Dennis to call him daddy, which Dennis hadn't he’d be into, but if the way his cock had gotten hard was any indication, it was definitely a thing for him.
Toby had given Dennis a reach-around while fucking him in the stall, telling him he was such a good boy for daddy and Dennis had come, spectacularly, against the cool metal.
“Do you have a Grindr profile?” Toby had asked breathlessly, flushing the condom and buttoning up his jeans.
And when Dennis shook his head, Toby took him back to the bar, bought him a beer, and explained the ins and outs of the app and how someone like Dennis could use it to his advantage.
Tony never showed Dennis his own profile, if he had one, and Dennis never saw him after that night. He wondered, sometimes, whatever happened to the old guy.
But that Grindr profile opened up a whole new world to Dennis. It wasn’t sex work. It was just… conveniently timed sex. He could find guys pretty easily, as long as he made it clear that he was willing to put out and didn’t have many boundaries. No money was changing hands, but most guys were willing to let him take a shower at their place, and he was getting a good night’s sleep in a warm bed.
He was making it work.
After the first time a guy literally threw him out as soon as he’d come down Dennis’s throat, he made sure to always clarify that he’d get to stay the whole night, and most guys kept their word. Yeah, he got roughed up a bit sometimes, and he wasn’t getting much sexual enjoyment from the situation, but it was such a relief knowing that he had a backup for those really difficult nights, when the wind was whipping through the city too hard to sleep through, or when the rain was relentless, or when the cold sank into his bones and made him shiver so hard his teeth chattered till his jaw ached.
And sometimes, things went well. He’d even come a few times with particularly decent guys. One time there had been a guy that liked degradation and had Dennis jerk himself off while he was blowing him, and Dennis found some twisted sort of pleasure in being called a dirty little cum-dump who was made to take cock. Was he ashamed of how sick he was? Yes. But the orgasm had been spectacular, and Dennis just tucked the information away along with all the other things he didn’t want to examine too closely about himself.
He wondered if Mike would want to call him names. Sometimes guys into daddy-kink were also into degradation play. Usually there was some spanking involved, which Dennis had mixed feelings on. Sometimes it could be fun, but sometimes it was a gateway drug for the guys and they took it as license to smack him around a little. Dennis didn’t like being hit in the face. It reminded him too much of home, of being slapped when he was younger, and then when he was older, being ‘cuffed’ which was just a nicer way of saying he’d been given a black eye.
Sometimes, it was a thin line, with older guys and daddy kink. Some of them treated him the way he wished he could have been treated, with tenderness, and sweetness, and the sex was a twisted side product of that. But sometimes the guys wanted to treat him the exact way that his father had treated him but with the fucking added in, and Dennis had spent more than one night crying himself to sleep in shame, fear, or pain.
Maybe Mike would look down at him with disapproval, and tell him he was a worthless fucking fag, and then fuck his throat until Dennis passed out from lack of air.
It wouldn’t be the first time Dennis had regained consciousness in a front entryway, lucky to be alive.
The harder it rained, the less and less Dennis cared even if this guy wanted to whip him bloody and spit in his face. He was cold, and soaked, and he just wanted to be in a home for the night. Wanted to know he’d be able to sleep after whatever Mike put him through.
Then again, maybe Mike would be nice. Maybe he’d be gentle with Dennis. Be one of those guys that added extra lube if they fucked him for a long time, or called him baby, or offered him water, after.
Dennis could hope.
***
Mike was better than anything Dennis could have expected.
For one thing, he was hot. Like, TV heart-throb, model, silver fox hot. He had kind brown eyes, and laugh lines that accentuated them, and a thick beard with sexy threads of white, and in person he was even bigger than Dennis had expected. Which could be a very, very bad thing if this went south, but could also be a very, very good thing if the guy was decent.
He offered Dennis a drink right away, which was a good sign, but Dennis had been drugged once, by a guy who hadn’t wanted to wear a condom. He’d pretended to give in, offered Dennis a beer while he went to find the condom box, and Dennis had woken up the next morning with a splitting headache and cum in his ass.
He didn’t take anything but water from hookups, after that.
But Mike got them both water, when Dennis turned down the beer, and he drank from his own glass first, so Dennis had no worries about taking his own. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until he drained the whole glass. Mike was kind enough to offer him a refill, gave him the go-ahead to shower before they started, and when Dennis asked about lube to prep himself with, he-
He’d looked confused at first, and Dennis’s stomach swooped. If this guy wanted to fuck him dry, he’d have to leave. There was no way he could do that again. And then he’d be back out in the rain. Maybe he could convince the guy to let him blow him, he’d promise him just about anything else except fucking him dry, anything- And then Mike shook his head slightly, gave Dennis a smile that sent a spark of heat cutting through the panic in his belly, and said, “that’s my job, sweetheart,” in a voice that was made for sex and sin.
Dennis felt his whole face flush and could only nod. Jesus, this guy was good. Dennis could only hope that he lived up to the expectation that his voice and his smile and those damn smouldering eyes were creating.
Mike’s bathroom was nice, and filled with products that were way better than anything Dennis had ever been able to afford, even before becoming homeless. He wished he could take his time to enjoy the rainhead shower, and the fluffy towels, but he scrubbed himself brisquely so that he didn’t piss Mike off by taking too long. He fished his toothbrush out of his pocket and stole a pinch of Mike’s toothpaste to brush with while the towel absorbed droplets of water still dripping down his back and chest.
He was just stepping out when Mike got off the phone. He watched the way Mike’s eyes travelled over his body. He wasn’t much to look at, really, but he’d learned other tricks to make himself enticing. He dropped the towel and kept his voice light when he said, “like what you see, daddy?”
For half a moment, he thought he’d overstepped. Mike didn’t look particularly enthused at his act, but then his easy smile was back and some of Dennis’s anxiety melted away. “Yeah,” he said lowly. “C’mere, honey.” That same sex and sin tone had Dennis swallowing thickly. His cock twitched in interest. God, he hoped this would be good. This guy could be so perfect. Dennis walked the scant distance between them until he was right in Mike’s space, and he managed not to flinch when Mike brought one hand up to Dennis’s face.
He didn’t hit. He palmed Dennis’s cheek, his hand big and warm and calloused. His fingertips dug gently, deliciously, into the base of Dennis’s skull, and his thumb brushed softly over Dennis’s cheekbone. When Dennis’s eyes fluttered shut and he swayed unconsciously closer, he heard a low rumble in Mike’s chest, almost a purr of approval. Dennis’s cock thickened. Fuck, this was good. So fucking good. And then Mike said, “gorgeous,” like he meant it, like Dennis really was gorgeous, his warm breath spreading across Dennis’s skin and smelling of mint and Dennis felt drunk on it.
He barely felt his feet move when Mike backed him against the wall. His lips pressed lightly over Dennis’s face, taunting little brushes of pressure while his hand slipped down to wrap around Dennis’s throat. It should have been terrifying. Dennis couldn’t afford to show up to class with a collar of bruises again. But Mike kept the touch light, more possessive than dangerous, and soon enough his hands were moving lower.
The gentle touches, the cedar and vetiver smell of the man, the almost-kisses, had Dennis throbbing and arcing against him. It was so, so good. It was everything Dennis had ever wanted. He felt cherished. And then Mike wrapped one of those big hands around his aching cock and in that sex and sin voice said, “such a good boy for daddy.”
Dennis didn’t really know what happened.
One moment, he’d been hot with arousal, saturated in pleasure, excited at the prospect of sex with this man rather than just enduring it, and the next he was cold with mortification and terror. Shit, he’d come - he’d come like a fucking bottle rocket, shooting off with no warning at all, and Mike was looking at him in shock, and oh fuck, Dennis had fucked this up, he’d fucked it up so bad, Mike was going to throw him out, back into the rain-
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear I can get up again - you can keep going, you can do anything you want-”
Mike’s voice was firm when he said, “none of that now.” Dennis snapped his mouth closed. He didn’t want to make this any worse. “That was sexy as hell,” he continued, which Dennis found highly fucking doubtful, but Mike seemed to at least be willing to be decent about the whole thing so Dennis wasn’t going to argue. “So don’t apologize for it. Now, there are a couple of ways we can go about this if you want to keep going.”
“I do,” Dennis said quickly, still desperate to make up for his mistake. Mike shot him a hard look, and Dennis quelled.
Then Mike laid out the options - Dennis could get Mike off, with his hands or mouth. They could continue on as they had been, ignoring Dennis’s accident. Or they could slow down to try to give Dennis time to get up again while Mike fucked him.
It was all more than Dennis deserved, and he was incredibly fucking grateful that Mike seemed not only to be willing to accommodate Dennis, but also to care about which option he wanted. Which he proved, when he wouldn’t accept Dennis’s whatever you want as an answer. He really, genuinely wanted Dennis to speak his mind, to make his desires and preferences clear. It was crazy.
But when Dennis finally admitted that he didn’t particularly want to do any overstimulation play that night, Mike gave him another one of those smouldering looks of approval and said, “good boy,” and Dennis thought he might just come again without even being hard. “Thank you for being honest with me, sweetheart.” Sweetheart. Dennis’s eyes squeezed shut and a shudder of pleasure went through him. “How about I take my time opening you up, and we see if we can’t get you to come again, this time on daddy’s cock?”
“Fuck yes,” Dennis found himself saying desperately, without even filtering his words. “Yes, please daddy - want that.” It didn’t feel like play, or acting. It didn’t feel stiff or forced. It felt so right and natural and so fucking hot. Mike was Daddy. He was the perfect picture of loving authority. He was that man you desperately wanted to please, who could gently teach and guide you, who could take you apart and put you back together again.
“C’mere then,” Mike said, laying Dennis down on the bed. Dennis went willingly, eagerly, enthralled by the intrinsic, calm dominance of the man. He reached behind his head and pulled off his t-shirt one handed, and Dennis fought not to drool. Fuck, Mike was so sexy. His body was even better in person. There hadn’t been any catfishing pictures on his profile, that was for sure. He was just as strong and broad as his photos had shown, and better, because it was real, it was here, right in front of Dennis. His pants came off next, and Dennis swallowed hard. It was big - bigger than he’d thought, even. With that perfect curve, and a flushed, glistening head... Dennis had always found circumcised dicks to be skinnier than uncut ones, but Mike was plenty thick still. Somehow, he was both the perfect example of masculine attractiveness and also realistic enough to be approachable and enjoyable. He wasn’t something artificial and sculped for a magazine. He was tangible and a little rugged and god he was so perfect that Dennis couldn’t take his eyes off him.
He had never so much hoped that a guy was good in bed.
Mike blanketed Dennis with his body, kissing his temple lightly and letting his cock brush against Dennis’s belly. The heat of that thick length against his skin made him moan helplessly. He could feel himself getting hard again, though he’d come so recently. He almost whimpered with loss when Mike reached up to pull lube and a condom from the nightstand. No, not one condom. Two.
He quirked an eyebrow without meaning to, saying, “ambitious,” before he could think better of it. Thankfully, Mike didn’t seem offended. He laughed a little.
“I’m gonna use one of them to open you up, baby. Keep my hands clean to use later.”
“Oh.” That… was very practical. Dennis was used to prepping himself in the shower, where he could just wash his hands right after, but this made perfect sense. He’d had more than one guy try to stick their finger into his mouth after putting it in his ass, and Dennis definitely wasn’t a fan of that. But this guy, putting his clean fingers in Dennis’s mouth… Tugging his hair… Fuck, that could be so good. “Oh,” he said softly, very much enticed by the possibilities. This was getting better and better.
And better and better, as Mike slowly opened him up, fingered him carefully, said things like ‘just like that, sweetheart, let daddy in,’ and ‘good boy’ and ‘like that, honey? Like daddy’s fingers stretching you out?’
What was Dennis supposed to say to that except an enthusiastic yes? He was fully hard again, moaning wantonly, begging for it, but Mike was determined to take his time. He was going to make Dennis lose his fucking mind. The stretch of his rim had never felt this good, this natural. He felt like was made for this, to take this man’s cock, to yield further and further until he could accept the whole length and thickness of him. Dennis felt himself trembling and flushed when Mike put his mouth on his nipples, sucking and biting in a place that Dennis hadn’t ever even considered being an erogenous zone on himself, but he was begging again, moaning like a whore, his legs wrapped around Mike’s hips and trying to urge him on before Mike finally decided he was ready.
He pulled back, making Dennis whimper with loss, tossed away the condom he’d used on his fingers and rolled the second one over his erection. “Gonna fuck you now, baby. Ready for daddy’s cock?”
And oh god, Dennis had never been more ready. He didn’t know if he would ever be more ready in his life. “Yes, yes please, daddy fuck me,” he begged, shameless. And then Mike gave him exactly what he wanted. He sank his cock into Dennis’s body, stretching him out deliciously, the friction making pleasure spark through his blood, his quiet, gentle praise twisting Dennis’s heart and making him want to be every inch the baby and good boy that Mike was saying he was.
He was babbling back, begging for daddy to fuck him, feeling his orgasm build and build as Mike’s cock stimulated his prostate and the pressure of their skin together made him wild. Mike’s hand brushed gently across Dennis’s cock and he arched, moaning, knowing that he needed so little to come. And then Daddy was fucking him hard and fast, hunched over Dennis’s smaller body on his knees for better leverage, his cock filling Dennis’s ass over and over again, so perfect, so good-
“Touch yourself,” Mike demanded roughly. “Wanna feel you cum on daddy’s cock, feel you squeeze me with this tight little ass.” Tony cried out, squeezing tightly around Mike and making him groan. “Do it.”
Dennis couldn’t refuse. Didn’t want to. He dropped his hand between them and barely had time to stroke himself half a dozen times before he was chanting daddy and right on the edge of coming. And then Mike kissed him.
It wasn’t that Dennis hadn’t been kissed before. He had. A handful of times even by guys he liked. But this… this was something different. It should have been gross, rationally. They were both too far gone for there to be any real finesse to it. But Dennis was fuck drunk and pliant and Mike was forceful and dominating, and somehow the feel and taste of Mike’s tongue filling Dennis’s mouth, his lips pressing hard against Dennis’s own, was bliss. It was the hottest fucking thing Dennis had ever experienced. He made a sound that was pathetically squeal-like and came helplessly.
Mike followed him almost immediately after, his cock pulsing over and over in Dennis’s ass, filling the end of the condom. The kiss softened, gentled, giving Dennis the chance to kiss back, to hold Mike close, before finally breaking. Mike gave one last roll of his hips, which made Dennis moan, and then he flopped to the side, on his back. They were both breathless.
It was amazing. The best sex Dennis had ever had, bar none, not even close. But this was another moment of truth - Mike had gotten off, the sex was done. If he was going to turn into an asshole and kick Dennis out, this was the point at which it would happen.
Instead, he handed Dennis a tissue to wipe himself up with. Then he kissed Dennis’s temple and said, “be right back.”
The anxiety eased somewhat. Dennis felt exhaustion starting to weigh him down. And then the smell hit him. Oh god, please…
“Hungry?” Mike asked, carrying in a pizza box with a beautifully greasy bottom.
Dennis might’ve gone into a sort of fugue state after that. Amazing sex, two orgasms, and now pizza? Was this man a saint? An angel? Dennis was so flabbergasted that he almost admitted how long it had been since he’d eaten last. He must have covered the slip up decently, though, because Mike didn’t call him on it. He let Dennis scarf down most of the pizza, put on an old TV show that Dennis liked while they ate, and didn’t complain when Dennis drifted off mid-chew.
He didn’t remember much after that, just a sweetly murmured, “go back to sleep, just getting you settled, sweetheart,” and a sweet kiss on his forehead and then the warmth of a blanket wrapping around him.
Dennis wanted to say thank you, daddy but he wasn’t sure it actually came out before sleep claimed him.
***
A buzzing startled Dennis out of sleep, but before he could fully wake, soft, warm kisses were pressed to his face. The gentle, “it’s still early,” lulled him back to sleep, feeling safe and content in a way he hadn’t for a long, long time.
An indeterminate amount of time later, an alarm went off, reminding Dennis of his childhood. The generic beeping sound grated on his nerves, but a warm weight pressed against his side comfortingly as the sound was silenced. “You’ve still got time, if you wanna sleep in a little longer,” a soft, raspy voice said comfortingly. Dennis pressed closer to the firm heat, caught somewhere between past and present as he struggled to wake up. His own father had never been this gentle, this sweet to him.
“‘S ok, ‘m up,” he managed to mumble, a half formed daddy flitting through his mind.
Daddy.
Daddy.
Oh shit.
He jolted upright, launching himself off the bed while rambling apologies, barely looking back at the guy whose bed he’d been languishing in like a sloth. Fuck. Shit. He’d specifically promised to be out of this guy’s way before he even woke up, and Mike had been so wonderful, and here Dennis was making a pest of himself.
Mike didn’t seem bothered by Dennis’s oversleeping - seemed almost amused by it, in fact - but Dennis was still not going to push his luck. He already felt he’d way overshot his allotted amount of good fortune when it came to this guy. He threw on his clothes without really seeing them, scrambling for his phone and charger. Mike had gone out to get coffee going, and the smell of it hit Dennis like a sledge hammer as he went to the door and started to tug his sneakers on.
God, it had been ages since he’d been able to afford good coffee. And this smelled like quality stuff. He bet Mike ground his own beans or something fancy. Mike lifted a mug at him and asked, “coffee?” friendly and handsome and so perfectly put together that Dennis wanted to crawl inside the man’s skin and freaking live there.
Yep, time for him to get the hell outta Dodge.
“I really should get going,” he said, trying and probably failing at looking nonchalant. “I appreciate it, though. This was-” There weren’t words for what this had been. Amazing. Fantastic. Magical. None of it encompassed just how perfect the night had been. Just how much Dennis had needed this. But Mike seemed to understand, fucking lovely, incredible bastard that he was, and he stepped close, putting his warm, calloused hand on the side of Dennis’s neck and squeezing ever so gently.
“Fun, yeah,” he agreed with a soft smile. God, Dennis wanted to drown in those deep brown eyes. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
It took literally all of Dennis’s self control to stop pressing his body against Mike’s. To step backward, nod, and walk out the door.
He only breathed properly again when there was a block of distance between them. He wondered, idly, what a guy like Mike would do if Dennis went back to his door and threw himself at the man’s feet and begged to be taken in like a stray fucking dog. Dennis could do that, for someone like Mike. He could sit and stay and beg if it meant Mike taking care of him the way he had the night before. Dennis was half convinced he could give up everything he’d worked so hard for, medical school, being a doctor, all his dreams - if someone like Mike wanted him, would keep him, would take care of him.
Spending the night with Mike was like someone lifting him out from beneath the oppressive water that he’d been quietly drowning in. Just long enough for him to take a breath, to be reminded of what it felt like to have air in his lungs again. Enough to sustain him. Enough to start the slow, painful drowning all over again when he sank back down.
He wasn’t sure if he was horrified or grateful to know that people like Mike existed. That sex could feel that way, that being cared for could feel that way. What was the point of knowing it if he couldn’t have it again? But maybe just the knowledge that it was out there should be enough. It gave him something to work toward - something to hope for.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and Fresh started playing at high volume. With a sigh, Dennis silenced the alarm and started walking toward the university. If he could ignore his emotional turmoil, he felt better than he had in ages. He’d slept well, eaten till he was full, and the memory of pleasure made him loose limbed. It was a hell of an improvement from the exhaustion and hunger he’d been dealing with, and a world away from the aching and pain that he thought he’d be enduring right about now.
He favorited Mike’s Grindr profile, stuffed his phone back into his pocket, and turned his mind to the day’s labs.
***
The rain never seemed to end.
Dennis managed to park himself into an overlooked corner of the library for two nights, and then got a bed at the Evangelical shelter the night after that. He cut his time between the laundromat on 78th and a 24 hour McDonalds the following night, convinced that it had to stop raining sometime.
It wasn’t that the rain would kill him. Temperatures had actually risen a bit, and he’d be able to survive out in it just fine, but he couldn’t risk getting so soaked that he wrecked his phone or his laptop. It was already such a huge risk having the ancient Chromebook with him in the shelters, but most of his homework was due online, so he didn’t have much choice. There were places he could stash his backpack, but he’d had it stolen once before and he was constantly terrified of it happening again.
He made it through the week before pulling up Grindr again.
It wasn’t that he was against using it more. But… something in him rebelled against the idea of having some random guy fuck him. It was ridiculous, he knew. But the last time had been so good. Dennis knew nothing would ever live up to it again, and it felt as though he’d be washing away Mike’s gentle touch with some other man’s. Really, really stupid. Especially when he hadn’t slept properly in days. But still.
There had been some vague, foolish hope in the back of his mind that Mike might message him again, ask him to come over another night. It didn’t happen, of course, but that hadn’t stopped the hope.
But by the seventh straight night of rain, Dennis opened the app again and looked through recent messages.
Looking 4 a good time 2nite bby?
Ethan, 41, had messaged him less than an hour ago. Dennis glanced back at the librarian, who was eyeing him suspiciously, and typed a message back before fully going through the man’s profile.
Yes pls! Do u host?
He clicked on the pictures, and was greeted with three different shots of a halfway decent cock. It was long and slim, which wasn’t necessarily bad, but Dennis couldn’t help comparing it to a certain thick, curved cock. He shook the thought away. Ethan was only half a mile away, and apparently had a breeding kink. It wasn’t Dennis’s cup of tea, but he could work with it.
I can. U avail now? I’d love 2 breed that pretty ass
The notification that the library was closing sounded again. Dennis typed back quickly.
I can b there in 5 min. U ok w/overnights? I want u 2 breed me so good I can’t walk after
Just because it wasn’t Dennis’s cup of tea didn’t mean he didn’t know how to use it to his advantage. The reply was almost instant.
Fuck yah bby stay over & i’ll give u another load in the morning 2
He sent a location, and Dennis ducked out just before the librarian came to shoo him away.
***
It went… fine.
Ethan was a decent enough guy. He let Dennis use his shower, though he prowled just outside the door the whole time. He’d been disappointed about Dennis’s insistence on condoms, but not pissy about it. Thank god Dennis had asked him for lube ahead of time and stretched in the shower, though, because the guy had only smeared the head of his cock with some before he was bending Dennis over and pushing inside his ass.
It stung, and not in a particularly nice way. Thankfully, Ethan’s slim tool meant that it wasn’t actually painful. He thrust twice and came. Dennis had a lot more patience for a quick trigger after his own recent humiliation with it, and made sure to be extremely supportive while Ethan mumbled out excuses.
Ethan put on a crappy porno that they watched a bit of before he got hard again and they fucked a second time. It became apparent a few minutes in that Ethan wasn’t planning on any sort of reach around, so Dennis braced his weight on his shoulders to free up his hands and started jerking himself off while Ethan pumped into him like a jackrabbit.
“Can’t wait to breed you full, baby,” Ethan moaned. “Gonna keep you plugged up till it takes. You want that, huh slut? Wanna be pumped full of my cum? Wanna have my babies?”
Dennis, who did not particularly like the idea of having children, let alone being the one to bear them, let out a fake moan and said, “yeah, please.”
He wondered if Mike would like the idea of breeding him, and suddenly the idea was a little more appealing. He could be convinced to wear a plug to keep Mike’s loads in him. Could listen to Mike talking about pumping him full, calling him a slut for it.
“That’s right,” Ethan grunted, pistoning faster. “Gonna knock you up, baby. Get those tits fat with milk just for me. That tummy all swollen with my baby. Keep you pregnant and leaking all the time. You want it, huh?”
Dennis wished Ethan would shut up and let him fantasize in peace, but he still moaned and nodded, hoping that the man would take his arousal personally. He didn’t want to think about tits, and he really didn’t want to think about lactating ones, but this guy didn’t need to know that. He did his best to block out the grunting and dirty talk behind him and focused on stroking his cock to thoughts of Mike.
Ethan came without preamble, and then pulled out and was half asleep right after. Dennis fought the urge to roll his eyes. He went to the bathroom, jerked himself off in peace, cleaned himself up, and slept on the couch.
He was gone by first light, leaving Ethan to dream of breeding pretty boys with big, leaking tits.
***
The weather finally broke, and Dennis had a string of halfway decent luck. He found a place near the university where he could crash for a bit, then the Salvation Army shelter had an opening that he’d been able to keep for the better part of a week, and he was finally able to put a bit more money toward food with the last of his lab equipment paid off.
The weather started to get chillier, which was a concern, but Dennis thought maybe his fortune was finally starting to change for the better.
The universe was determined to prove him wrong.
The first night the temperatures dipped into the 40s, Dennis pulled up Grindr again. He flipped through the pictures on Mike’s profile, but the man hadn’t messaged him, so he exited out and went to his recent messages.
John, 32, was 1.4 miles away and his profile said that he could host. His pictures showed a gym bro, gleaming muscles and waxed chest and a cock that wasn’t nearly as grand as the guy seemed to think it was.
Interested in some RP?
Dennis didn’t consider himself the best role player, but he could do some stuff. He shrugged and clicked on the reply button.
What kind? I c u can host - is overnight ok too? I don’t like getting kicked 2 the curb after
He went back to his assignment while he waited for a reply. It came ten minutes later.
Just person 2 person, nothing 2 crazy. Overnight is cool so long as u don’t snore or wet the bed or anything weird. U’d need 2 get out early tho
Yeah… that wouldn’t be a problem. Dennis agreed, they set to meet up at eleven, and John gave his address.
It was a disaster from the moment Dennis stepped into the apartment. John looked him over, then told him to strip right there in the doorway.
“Your name is Jenny,” he told Dennis firmly. Dennis didn’t actually agree to that, but then John was pushing Dennis to his knees, getting out his cock, and shoving it at Dennis’s face.
“Woah, dude, condom-”
“Shut up,” John hissed, his hand fisting in Dennis’s hair. “Shut up and take it, Jenny. You’re such a little slut, you suck every other guy’s dick bare, you can suck mine too!”
“Hey, this isn’t a joke man, either put one on or-”
John shoved his dick in Dennis’s mouth, the pressure of his hips pinning Dennis’s head against the door. He shoved at the guy’s hips, but he couldn’t get enough leverage to budge him. It was all happening so fast, the guy’s cock thrusting roughly between his lips, small enough not to choke him, but jabbing his soft palate and making him gag painfully.
It crossed his mind to bite, but he was afraid of what this asshole would do to him if he did. He felt sick and humiliated and afraid. His scalp was aching from John’s painful grip on his hair.
Almost as soon as it started, it was over. John came, forcing the spend down the back of Dennis’s throat with a groan. When he pulled away, Dennis gagged and spat as much as he could onto the ground, glaring daggers at the man. He wasn’t sure how effective the glare was, with his eyes teary and his lips bruised.
“Fucking asshole! What’s your-”
John burst into tears.
“Oh god, oh my god, I’m so sorry. Holy shit I’m so sorry. Jesus, c’mere, let me get you a drink. I didn’t mean to do that, I swear. Please, please let me fix it.”
And Dennis knew he should leave. He knew it. But the man looked so damn pathetic, his blubbering and begging for forgiveness was so genuine sounding that Dennis relented and followed him into the kitchen. You can’t fix this level of broken, he told himself as John told him the whole sordid tale of Jenny, his ex. That he’d confessed he was gay to her, but loved her and wanted to stay together, thinking everything was going well, then her picking fights all the time, him having to constantly beg for forgiveness just to keep her from leaving him, and the culmination of him finding her in bed with one of his friends from work.
Dennis felt for the guy, he did, but none of that really excused his behavior. It got exhausting, eventually, hearing John’s repeated apologies, and Dennis told him it was fine just to get him to shut up. It really wasn’t cold enough that he needed to stay. This was more a convenience than anything.
He eventually got John to agree to let Dennis use his shower, and then they’d see about trying again. Dennis sort of hoped the guy would just cry himself to sleep.
Instead, John was waiting for him on the bed, naked, cock hard. At least he had a condom on this time.
“Get yourself wet for me, Jenny,” he said, tossing Dennis the lube. And if Dennis had any self respect, or any sense of self-preservation, that would have been his cue to leave. But Dennis was a hopeful moron, and he reluctantly got onto the bed and started to finger himself open. John only let him get to two fingers before yanking his hand away, shoving Dennis’s knee to his chest, and pushing his cock in inside.
Dennis was increasingly grateful for small dicks.
John started thrusting hard and fast. “Fuck, Jenny, you feel so good,” he moaned. “Such a tight pussy for such a dirty whore. This is where you belong, bitch. In my bed, serving my needs. You’re too fucking dumb for anything else. Nothing but a hole to fuck-”
“Hey, I don’t like that-”
John slapped him.
Dennis froze, the response instinctual.
“Shut up, faggot,” John hissed at him. And then he turned on a dime again, and Dennis would have thought he’d imagined the insult and the slap except for the pain in his cheek. “Oh god I love you so much, Jenny. Why can’t you just be good? I just wanna be good to you, baby. Just want you to listen to me, do what I say. Why do you have to be such a slut? Put out for other guys but not for me? All I want is for you to be quiet and let me fuck your ass. Is that too much to ask?”
“John, that’s enough-” Dennis was cut off by another slap, and a hand around his throat.
“I said, shut the fuck up,” John snapped, his face leering close enough for spit to fly against Dennis’s flaming cheek. Dennis couldn’t breathe, and he began to struggle in earnest. The next strike wasn’t with an open fist. The blow knocked Dennis senseless, long enough for John to pull out, flip him to his stomach, and thrust back in. “Fucking bitch, fucking bitch. Take it. Take it like a dirty whore. Take it take it take it-” He was thrusting faster and faster, and Dennis thought the man would either need to come or he’d have a fucking heart attack on Dennis’s back. “Dirty fucking faggot,” he started chanting now. “Dirty fucking faggot likes cock up his ass. Like that, don’t you, sissy fag. Like cock up your ass. Dirty fucking fag. Dirty, filthy sissy-” He came with a loud groan. His whole weight collapsed down onto Dennis.
For half a moment, Dennis thought the guy might actually have had a heart attack on him. But then he sniffled and started bawling again. He curled around Dennis and babbled apologies, excuses, please. He begged Dennis to stay.
More cautious this time, Dennis played along. He patted John’s hand, let the man koala wrap him, and waited until he’d fallen asleep. Then he slipped out of the room, out of the apartment, barely took the time to get his pants on, and fled.
***
It was a long time after that before Dennis used Grindr again.
***
The cold was exhausting. It never seemed like there was any escaping it. Dennis was supposed to be focusing on finals, but instead he was constantly worried about where he was going to sleep again. He’d given in and used motels a few times, but he knew it wasn’t sustainable. He just couldn’t afford it.
When he finally broke down and got on Grindr again, he found the safest, mousiest looking guy he could and messaged him. Bobby’s profile said vers/switch, but he wanted to bottom that night, he said. A little degradation play. Nothing too serious, he requested. Yes, he could host. Yes, he was okay with overnight.
Bobby was sweet. A few years younger than Dennis, and not out to his friends yet. Dennis made sure to take his time opening Bobby up, using plenty of lube and giving his prostate lots of attention. When Dennis finally pushed into him, Bobby was already halfway to orgasm. Dennis’s cock wasn’t the biggest, but he knew how to use it just fine, and you didn’t need a mammoth log to hit the prostate properly. He kept Bobby’s hips tilted just right and thrust slow and deep.
It felt good. Dennis preferred bottoming, but after everything, it was nice to top. It certainly felt safer.
“Talk to me, baby,” Bobby begged, hand circling his cock loosely.
“You like that, slut?” Dennis made himself say, remembering that Bobby had asked for degradation.
Why do you have to be such a slut?
He shook away the memory, thrusting a little faster to try and keep his erection. Beneath him, Bobby clenched and moaned.
“More,” he begged.
Dennis felt nauseated.
“Yeah?” he made himself say, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Gonna come for me like a good little whore?”
Take it like a dirty whore.
Oh god, Dennis couldn’t do this. He batted Bobby’s hand out of the way and used his own to jerk the man off fast, pushing his hips against Bobby’s ass as though he was coming. He barely managed to stay hard long enough for Bobby to come.
“Oh fuck that was good,” Bobby breathed, grabbing tissues from the side table and cleaning himself up while Dennis took off the empty condom.
“You mind if I use your shower again?” Dennis asked abruptly. “Sorry, I worked up a bit of a sweat.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Bobby said easily. Dennis fled the room.
He spent five minutes in the shower crying, then cleaned himself up and went back to the bedroom.
“Hey man, you okay?” Bobby asked him.
“Yeah, of course. That was great,” he lied. He pressed a kiss to Bobby’s cheek to sell it. “Wore me out,” he said with a laugh. Bobby looked at him as though he didn’t quite believe the forced nonchelance, but he didn’t push. They fell asleep tucked together, and Dennis slipped out first thing in the morning, giving a sleepy Bobby a quick goodbye kiss.
***
It was slightly easier, after that.
Dennis hooked up with a guy who had a full blown latex fetish next. The man had been very sweet, and very apologetic about the amount that Dennis sweat while wrapped up in the black latex body suit. He’d given Dennis extra gatorade to take with him in the morning, which was nice, but blegh, Dennis never wanted to fuck with latex again.
He was brave enough to go for a daddy dom after that, and Sam made what could have been a very bad situation fairly decent all together. A trans bear, Sam was big, rough, and beefy. He’d been on T for decades, and naturally responsive to it - his dick was almost as big as Dennis’s. Dennis had been more than happy to get on his knees for the guy and suck it till he came. The issues didn’t start till after, when Sam brought up his interest in sounding.
Dennis hadn’t ever heard of it, but things had been going well and he was willing to try new kinks, so he’d agreed without asking enough questions.
He nearly passed out when Sam pushed the lubed rod halfway up his urethra. The logical thing to do would have been to ask him to stop, to say something, anything, but Dennis froze, that instinctual fear compounded by what had happened with John adding a new layer to it, and it wasn’t until several minutes later that Sam noticed how white he’d gotten, how still, and stopped immediately.
“Jesus, honey, say something if you don’t like it,” Sam chided gently, cleaning Dennis up and cuddling him close. “Nobody wants to do something you don’t want.”
But that wasn’t true. That wasn’t true at all.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Dennis said faintly. “I guess I didn’t realize how strongly I was reacting to it. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize baby, I’m sorry I didn’t check in sooner. You feeling better?” He stroked the side of Dennis’s face gently, and Dennis nodded. “Alright, sweet thing, you just stay here and I’ll be right back with some hot chocolate. Nonea that powder crap, the real stuff.”
And ten minutes later Sam reentered the bedroom holding two mugs of thick, delicious hot chocolate.
In the morning, Dennis jerked himself off while sucking Sam’s cock, and Dennis had the sudden thought that he wished he’d gotten to suck Mike’s cock. It was that fantasy that made him come, which he felt a little guilty about considering how good Sam had been to him, so he was extra enthusiastic making him come as a silent apology.
***
Two more hookups were just basic enough to be practically forgettable, and then Dennis messaged Jason.
Jason was a self proclaimed Alpha Dom, which should have been warning enough. But it was cold, and none of the other messages Dennis had sent had gotten replies yet, and he seemed harmless enough. He said he wanted to do a scene, that he’d make Dennis come till he cried. He said they wouldn’t need a safeword, that no sub he’d ever been with had even needed one with him. He said he wanted to do a little pain play, and seemed appropriately shocked when Dennis clarified no hitting his face, and nothing with a closed fist anywhere. Of course not, he reassured. He wasn’t some partner-beating asshole.
And so Dennis went over to his place, and let Jason tie him up. Jason called him pretty, and praised him, and promised to be gentle with the cane when he saw how wide Dennis’s eyes got as he caught sight of it. Dennis had been hit with a paddle before, and a little riding crop. He tried to reassure himself that the cane wouldn’t be that much different.
It was much, much worse.
He could feel the welts forming on his ass and thighs. Twice, he felt skin break. He begged Jason to stop. And the worst thing was, Jason did stop. He stopped, he petted Dennis, told him how well he was doing, how perfect he was, how beautiful he looked. And he insisted that Dennis could do just a little more. He could take just one more strike. Just one more. There was no aggression. Dennis thought he might have been able to resist that. Might have been able to fight, to put his foot down, even if he froze at first. But Jason just kept stroking him so sweetly and telling him how good he was doing, that he could take it. That he wasn’t weak like some subs were, who couldn’t handle it. No, Dennis was his perfect, resilient boy. So beautiful all marked up for him.
And then it was over, finally. Jason stopped, put the cane away, and Dennis let out a sigh of relief. He felt some pride, even. He’d managed it. He’d gotten through it. He had been a good boy.
Jason pulled on a latex glove when he got out the lube, which was sort of weird, but he remembered Mike’s trick with the two condoms, and figured Jason was just keeping his hands clean. And Jason was so good, taking his time opening Dennis up, using plenty of lube. It felt nice. Jason wasn’t stimulating his prostate, more focused on stretching him, but that was okay.
Until it wasn’t.
Dennis didn’t like remembering what happened next. How Jason just kept assuring him that he could take more and more. How he’d slow down, but never stop. How beautiful he told Dennis he looked, stretched like that. The pain, and the unnatural feeling of movement inside of him. How he’d vomited, and Jason just cooed at him that it was okay, that he understood, that Dennis was doing so well, taking him so well-
Jason came on Dennis’s face, when he was done.
Dennis laid silently as Jason cleaned it off, later. As Jason undid his bindings and pulled him close. Dennis was boneless. Dennis wasn’t a person, just then. Dennis was a set of holes to use. That was easier. Because people had feelings and limits and felt pain. Holes made for fucking didn’t have those things. They just took it. Dennis needed to not be a person for a while. He stared at the ceiling while Jason fell asleep. He must have lost consciousness at some point, because eventually he became aware of Jason waking up and offering him breakfast. Dennis didn’t speak as he shook his head, pulled on his clothes, and left.
He didn’t speak for two days after that. He didn’t speak again until the pain, the echoing feeling of violation, faded.
He slept in the cold for those two nights, not really caring if he froze to death.
But eventually, he started feeling like a human again, and he had a life to live, grades to keep up, a body to feed and clothe and rest.
He stopped sleeping more than an hour or two. He caught naps in the student lounge when he could, and walked around campus at night to keep warm. He bought a warmer jacket at a thrift store. He ate enough to keep up his strength. Got a motel one night when the temperature dipped below zero, but refused to fall into the trap of doing so too often.
When a big snow storm came through Pittsburgh two weeks later, just before the start of his internal medicine rotation at PTMC, he found himself looking at his phone as he swayed on his feet, beyond exhausted. His battery was almost dead. He didn’t have anywhere to charge it. The campus was mostly shut down.
All he wanted was to be somewhere warm, and safe. Somewhere he could rest. School had been going well. This rotation was a big deal for him. If only he could get some decent sleep, let himself feel at ease, just for a little while, he could get through this rough patch. He was sure of it.
But when he pulled up Grindr, a pit of terror opened up in his stomach. He closed the app. Opened it again. Flipped back through old messages.
He’d found that messaging past hookups often got him blocked, but he just… he needed to at least try.
He clicked on Mike’s message thread.
Free 2night?
***
Mike’s shower was a slice of fucking heaven. Nirvana. Bliss. It had endless hot water, perfect pressure, and even a little bench that Dennis could sit on when his legs gave out. God, he’d missed this.
Comfortable in a way he hadn’t been in a long, long time, Dennis allowed himself to luxuriate a little. To indulge. He scrubbed himself squeaky clean and didn’t even bother worrying about prep. He wrapped himself up in a towel that had been sitting on a heated bar, making the plush terrycloth feel absolutely sinful. The house was warm enough that Dennis didn’t even catch a chill making his way over to the bed where Mike was stretched out. He let himself sprawl next to the bigger man, enjoying high quality sheets against his skin and a warm, steady presence beside him.
Mike’s cock was half hard against his thigh, and Dennis remembered wishing he’d been able to get his mouth on it. “Can I blow you?” he asked, pushing himself up to his elbow with great effort. His eyelids felt so fucking heavy. But it wasn’t like he could just pass out without giving the man an orgasm first.
Mike looked shocked, but then smiled and sat up. “I”d be hard pressed to say no to that. As an appetizer, or the main course?”
Dennis didn’t really care. Mike could come in his mouth, or get most of the way there and fuck Dennis till he came. If the night went anything like their last hookup did, then Mike would be considerate enough to get Dennis off either way, and honestly, Dennis didn’t even care if he came or not. He wanted the familiarity of someone who wanted to take care of him, be good to him, be sweet to him. And Mike was already doing that. Everything else was just a bonus.
“Either,” he said with a shrug.
“Okay if I return the favor if I end up coming in your mouth?”
That took a second for Dennis’s sleep-deprived mind to compute, and then he felt his face flush. Mike wanted to blow him? It seemed… a little crazy. Mike, on his knees for Dennis? Taking Dennis’s cock in his mouth, sucking him till he came? Jesus that was an image. Dennis had gotten head before, sure, but it had been ages ago, and after that first one where he’d come embarrassingly fast in Eli Grayson’s mouth, it had always been a passing thing, two seconds worth of a blow job before they moved onto other things.
Mike wanted to blow him till he came.
Oh fuck that was hot. “Yeah, for sure,” he said, his voice squeaking humiliatingly. “No complaints there.”
Mike studied him for half a second, mulling something over, and then put whatever it was aside. “Good. Strip for me?”
And Dennis froze. His brain conjured up images of strippers on poles, of big fake tits and oiled pecs and sweaty dollar bills. Mike wanted him to strip for him? The warm comfort in his belly vanished in an icy dread even though he knew it was such a small thing to ask for, nothing that would hurt him at all, really, so much easier than-
Mike pulled his shirt off, and Dennis’s mind caught up. Strip, as in, take off his clothes. Not strip as in exotic dancing. Jesus. There was something pathologically wrong with Dennis, he was sure of it. He shook his head and followed Mike’s lead, shirt first, then pants, boxers, socks.
When Mike was naked, Dennis went to his knees between his spread thighs, happy to see that Mike already had a condom ready. Fuck, he liked this man. And then Mike just went and made it worse, grabbing a pillow from the bed and tossing it down. “Here, use this.”
There was no way in hell Dennis could stop his smile of gratitude as he settled his knees on the pillow and leaned back in. Mike rolled the condom on with deft, nimble fingers. “Sorry, it’s not flavored or anything,” Mike said, seeming self-conscious about it.
Dennis had to actively fight the urge to laugh. A guy was apologizing for the condom. “I’m not a fan of the flavored ones anyway,” he reassured. “Too artificial. This is fine. I appreciate the initiative anyway.” He blinked away the images that had started crowding his brain, the sensations. “Some guys fuss about using them during oral.”
It was the understatement of the fucking year, but Mike didn’t need to know that. Sweet, kind, gentle Mike who never pushed him, who never got too rough. Who would never guilt him about safe sex, or pin his head against a wall and fuck his mouth after he’d begged him to stop.
“And hopefully you leave anyone that inconsiderate high and dry,” Mike said, voice pointed.
What was Dennis supposed to say to that? Sometimes they force you anyway? Sometimes you have to go along with it, if you want to not freeze to death outside?
No, ugly things like that didn’t belong here, in Mike’s bedroom. This was a safe place, where there was nothing but pleasure. He started sucking Mike’s cock rather than answer. Mike didn’t taste of anything but latex, but he smelled heavenly. Some sort of cedar scented body wash, faint but still there, and a bit a clean sweat, and something that Dennis would very embarrassingly describe as man scent. It was fucking incredible.
Mike’s cock was too big to suck easily, but Dennis kept his teeth covered and made sure to use lots of spit and paid extra attention to the under side of his glans, where he was most sensitive. It was almost meditative. Then Mike said softly, “sucking daddy’s cock so well, sweetheart,” and Dennis didn’t even try to smother his moan. It was so good. So nice. He was good. He wanted to be so good for Mike. And then Mike’s hand was in Dennis’s hair, stroking so gently, and Dennis felt nothing but safe and warm and pleasure and the satisfaction of knowing he was sucking daddy’s cock so well…
Daddy took care of him…
so Dennis wanted to please daddy…
Daddy loved him…
Dennis was daddy’s good boy….
His good boy…
*
“Hey, sweetheart-”
Dennis gasped and straightened, suddenly wide awake.
Oh shit.
“Hey, shh, it’s okay,” Mike was trying to reassure him, “you just fell asleep.”
As though that made it better. As though he hadn’t just done something really fucking inconsiderate. As though Mike didn’t have the right to kick him out of his fucking house into the snow. This was the premature ejaculation incident all over again.
But Mike hadn’t kicked him out then.
“I- I fell asleep? Shit - shit, I’m so sorry. Jesus.” The other shoe didn’t drop. Mike didn’t look angry. He looked soft, concerned. God, Dennis wanted to give this man the fucking world. “Let me just-”
“No, that’s okay, you look bushed, kid. We don’t have to do this tonight.”
Oh Jesus, not kicking him out, but it wasn’t like Mike was going to just let him stay if they weren’t fucking. He probably had no idea that Dennis would likely freeze to death if he walked out that door tonight. “No, I’m alright, I swear,” he promised. “Please let me get you off?” Mike looked at him, long and hard. Dennis fought the urge to squirm uncomfortably. “Can I please-” he tried reaching for Mike’s cock again, sure that he could make it good for the man, that he’d get him off this time, that he’d earn his place in Mike’s bed for the night-
But Mike pulled back.
“How about we do something else, hm?”
Okay. That wasn’t a no. That wasn’t a you should leave. That was okay. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed easily, relief coursing through him. “Whatever you want.”
Mike moved further onto the bed and patted the space beside him. “Come up here.” He waited until Dennis had climbed up onto the mattress. “Know what intercrural is?”
Inter - crural. Dennis’s medical knowledge was the only reason he could figure out what crural meant. “Inner… leg?”
Mike seemed amused, but it wasn’t mean. He chuckled. “Yeah, basically. Thigh fucking.”
“Oh!” Now that was a term Dennis was familiar with. Hard not to be, when you grew up in a rural, Christian conservative part of the country where abstinence was still taught as sex ed. “Oh yeah, I know what that is.”
Mike smiled at him, soft and warm. “Think you’d be comfortable with me doing that while you got comfortable and went back to sleep?”
“R-really?” Dennis had so many thoughts about that. It seemed like not enough, like he should be doing more for Mike. And there was something frightening about it, too, giving up his autonomy while he was completely defenseless, letting Mike just…use him. But that was so fucking hot sounding that Dennis felt himself throbbing with arousal. He wanted to be used, to give Mike pleasure. And if Mike was okay with Dennis settling in and sleeping while that happened…
Jesus, maybe Dennis was even kinkier than he thought.
“No penetration, and I’ll clean you up when I’m done,” Mike assured him. “If you end up awake and horny after, I’ll still blow you. If not, you can just sleep. Sound good?”
Well there didn’t seem to be any down sides for Dennis in this scenario.
“Yeah, I mean, that sounds awesome,” he admitted. “You really don’t mind?”
As though to prove his point, Mike picked up the lube and kissed him. Dennis could see his cock, still hard between his thighs. “I think it’ll be hot as hell,” he said, laying on his side and stretching out his arm in invitation. “Letting daddy use your body while you’re all soft and sleepy…” He moved his other, now lube slicked hand, to his cock and stroked it, letting Dennis see him pulse with excitement.
Fuck, Mike really wanted this. He really wanted Dennis, just like this. He was as kinky as Dennis was. God, Dennis didn’t feel tired now, he felt so fucking turned on he might pop. “Fuck, yeah,” he moaned. “Okay, let’s do it. How do you want me?” His cock was throbbing, and he was eager to feel Mike slide between his thighs.
“On your side,” Mike instructed. “Wrapped around a pillow, hips to the mattress.”
Dennis shuffled eagerly into position, curling his upper body around the pillow, his head on Mike’s bicep, his back to Mike’s chest, twisting his hips slightly so that his cock was against the mattress. It throbbed when Mike drizzled lube against his skin, and he moaned softly when Mike finally pushed between his thighs.
There was a blanket pulled up over them, and the room was dark, and the only sounds were Mike’s heavy breaths and the schlick of the lube as Mike thrust slowly in and out of the channel made by Dennis’s pressed together thighs. Fuck, that felt good. With each thrust, the head of Mike’s cock dragged along Dennis’s perineum. It pushed against the back of his balls. It was way more stimulating than it had any right to be - and that was just physically. Everything else… God, it was so perfect. Dennis was warm and safe and so comfortable. The scent of Mike and cedar and clean laundry soap was filling his nose with every breath.
It didn’t feel like a hookup.
It felt like Dennis was at home, a concept he’d lost touch with so long ago, home, but Dennis was there now, safe and sound, and daddy was there, rocking him to sleep with gentle thrusts, arms wrapped tightly around him. It was so perfect, so peaceful, in this little pocket of the world, nothing but Dennis and his daddy and the delicious zings of pleasure shooting up his spine and the warmth in his tummy and the feeling of security wrapped around him like a warm bath.
It was so perfect.
So right.
Daddy was there, and he would take care of Dennis…
***
The song playing at high volume jolted Dennis out of a deep sleep. He groaned, feeling way too comfortable to already be awake. The phone clattered to the floor as he tried to grope for it to turn it off.
“Somewhere to be early?” a rough voice from behind him asked.
Daddy.
Dennis rubbed his eyes and managed to silence the damn alarm. “Yeah.” His own voice was raspy, probably from dehydration. “Got a few more minutes, though. Your place is close to-” Jesus, he’d almost admitted that he was headed to PTMC this morning. Mike was awesome and all, but Dennis did not need his sexy Grindr hookup knowing that the pathetic little slut he was fucking to sleep was trying to become a doctor. He didn’t think he could live through that level of humiliation.
His rotation was internal medicine at the Trauma Center, which was supposed to be one of the best teaching hospitals in the city. Dennis had heard that doctors who did their residency there pretty much had carte blanche when it came to their choice of positions as attendings - if they survived the program. He knew a lot of physicians burned out in their residency. He was hoping that he’d be matched there when he graduated. He had three rotations scheduled back to back. Internal medicine, Emergency medicine, and Peds.
Thankfully, he’d gotten a fan-fucking-tastic night’s sleep to get him the best possible start to his first rotation.
A night’s sleep courtesy of the man pressed against his back. Dennis let himself relax against the large, warm body. “Close to where I’m going,” he amended belatedly. “Five more minutes.”
Mike nuzzled against Dennis’s neck and Dennis melted into the gentle touch. Fuck, he loved this so much. He only meant to close his eyes for a second, maybe two, but it must have been longer than that, because the next thing he knew, his alarm was going off again.
“Shit.” Dennis clicked it off, frustrated that this was over. “I’ve really gotta get moving,” he grumbled despondently. “Can’t be late today.” That’d be just his luck. Late on his first day of the rotation.
Mike let him go, saying, “yeah, alright. At least let me make you coffee this time?”
Dennis was almost embarrassed to remember how he’d hightailed it out of Mike’s place like a bat outta hell last time. Mike definitely deserved better, and Dennis would love to stay, but… “I don’t know if I’ll have time to drink it.” He really, really didn’t want to be late, and now those extra five minutes of cuddling were coming back to bite him in the ass.
“So take it with you,” Mike said, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and shrugging, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Steal your cup?” Dennis asked incredulously.
Mike laughed, making Dennis smile too. “I’ve got eighty million to-go mugs,” he said easily. “One isn’t going to leave me short.” He flashed a charming smile at Dennis that had him fighting down a blush. “You can bring it back if we ever hook up again-”
If we ever hook up again
Mike was already thinking they might hook up again?
“-but otherwise don’t worry about it.”
Oh fuck this was all waaaay too nice for Dennis, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. “Okay, yeah,” he agreed. “That’d be nice. Thanks.”
Mike went out to make coffee while Dennis finished getting ready for the day. He didn’t have scrubs, but his hospital coordinator had assured him that PTMC had scrub exchange machines, and each student doctor would be assigned a credit with the hospital system, so he’d be able to change from his street clothes in the locker room of the internal medicine department.
When he came into the kitchen, Mike was standing there, bare chested, looking sexy as fuck, pouring coffee into a travel mug and a ceramic one with a Steelers logo on the side. Dennis wondered if Mike liked football, what he’d be like to watch a game with. No one in Pittsburgh seemed nearly as into football as his family had been, but then, people in Pennsylvania as a whole didn’t seem nearly as into football as most people in Nebraska did. Maybe Mike liked hockey. Dennis could get into hockey, if he was watching it with someone like Mike.
He pushed the thought away as he went to the door to put his shoes on. His backpack was already on his shoulder when he turned to find Mike right there, holding out the to-go mug. He accepted it, and then before his courage could abandon him, pushed up to his toes to kiss Mike. He’d meant it to be a small, brief thing, but Mike’s arms went around him, his fingers slid into Dennis’s curls, and suddenly it was deep, searing, consuming… Mike’s other hand was splayed on Dennis’s back as he slid his tongue into Dennis’s mouth and Dennis moaned unabashedly.
He boldly nipped at Mike’s lower lip, watching with satisfaction as the older man’s eyes darkened. Fuck, this was addictive. “Have a good day,” Mike said, that same sex and sin tone that drove Dennis wild.
“You too,” Dennis managed to say back. Mike opened the door for him like a fucking gentleman, and Dennis stepped out into the cold morning air. It was probably a good thing that Mike’s place was close to the hospital, because most of the sidewalks weren’t shoveled yet, and Dennis only had his ragged chucks to protect his feet from the heaps of snow.
God, he really would have died if he’d tried to stay out in this the night before. The thought left him cold in more ways than one. He took a sip of Mike’s coffee to brace himself, and it was everything he’d thought it would be. Hot and rich, dark without being bitter. Dennis would bet it cost more per cup than Dennis had spent on his coat and backpack combined.
And he had a whole mug of it, and Mike’s mug, and the casual assurance that he could give it back if they hooked up again.
It was going to be a great fucking day, and nothing and no one could convince Dennis otherwise.
The two oranges that he found in his bag when he got to work, that must have been put there by Mike, only reiterated that thought.
***
The next month it felt as though things were finally, finally, starting to come together for Dennis.
Internal medicine probably wasn’t going to be his specialty, but he liked PTMC. And the hospital had one very special perk. He’d gotten lost on that first day, at the end of a long shift, his morning caffeine long since worn off, head stuffed full of new knowledge, and wandered accidentally into a wing that was shut down. Completely abandoned. No lights, no patients, no nurses. Nothing. Just silence - and unoccupied beds.
Staying the night had been a complete no brainer.
Staying the following night had been a conscious decision.
By the third night, he’d set up a sort of camp in one of the rooms, delighting in having a space to himself, privacy, the security of a roof over his head, and climate control. Yeah, he had to take sink showers, but he could manage that okay for the trade off of having somewhere to sleep every night. And he’d heard that in the ED, which was his next rotation, they had a full shower room. He’d be able to shower every day if he wanted. God, that sounded like heaven.
After the first week, he finally felt like a damn human again. He wasn’t perpetually exhausted, constantly freezing, dreading each night. Yeah, he’d need to sort something else out soon enough. He couldn’t sleep on the 8th floor of PTMC forever. But it was so nice for right now. To just be a med student, rather than everything else, too. His nights with Mike had been like the man pulling him above water for a brief respite. Being at PTMC, finding a room to sleep in there, was like getting his foot on a stepping stone. He wasn’t out of the water yet, but his head was above the waves for the moment. Tenuous as it was, Dennis was fucking grateful.
He had a dream about Mike fucking him on the hospital bed he’d been sleeping in, and Dennis decided maybe it was time to think about some physical relief.
He pulled up Grindr, feeling a strange mix of anxiety and relief. Grindr had been a last resort for him, a place to turn when there was nowhere else to go - but now that he was somewhat secure, he could use it for fun. He flicked to Mike’s profile, studying the motorcycle picture and knowing just how strong those thighs were in real life. Just how big those hands were. Just how sweet he smelled. He wondered if Mike was a mechanic. Dennis could see that. Good with his hands, smart, gentle but strong. Or maybe the guy was just a weekend warrior with the bike, and he was actually something like a high school history teacher. Yeah, that could fit too. He could easily picture Mike teaching a room full of students, his voice clear and compelling, patient with the rowdy kids, stern when needed.
Jeez, Dennis was lucky that Mrs. Skyler had been his history teacher, or he’d never have learned anything.
As much as Dennis wanted to message the man, see if he was up for another night together, he ended up backing out of the profile. It hadn’t been that long since they’d hooked up, and Mike hadn’t reached out, so Dennis didn’t want to intrude or make a nuisance of himself.
Somewhat mournfully, Dennis started looking through other profiles and messages. He settled on Kyle, 2.2 miles away. The guy had his face in his profile picture, which was unusual, but Dennis sort of liked it. A man with nothing to hide. He clicked on the message Kyle had sent him, a very generic, hey, wanna have some fun tonight? and typed out a reply.
Yeah! What r u in the mood 4?
There was a long enough pause that Dennis thought the guy had moved on. This time, that wasn’t a big deal. If Kyle wasn’t available, Dennis could take his time finding someone else. He could decide fuck it, he didn’t even want to leave, and just stay in the warmth and safety of the hospital. There was so much relief in that knowledge.
fck babey!1 u dwn? im soooo hirny rn
Well the grammar was atrocious, but Dennis wasn’t going to complain too much.
Your place? I can’t host ☹️
yeag cum ofer
What followed was an unintelligible string of numbers and letters.
Then another. Then another. Then finally a shared location. Dennis wondered if the guy was drunk or something. Confident that he could just turn around and come back if things got dicey, Dennis checked to make sure he had enough tokens on his bus pass and still had lube and condoms in his bag, then slipped out of the hospital.
***
Kyle was, in fact, drunk.
He kept trying to insist that he wasn’t drunk, though. He had stamps on his hand from three different bars, and Dennis could smell tequila on his breath, but he was a happy drunk at least, so that was something. He was a fairly big guy, and very handsy. He was very into Dennis. Kept calling him short-stack and cutie pie and smacking his ass.
It was sort of flattering, especially considering that Kyle was fairly good looking. He could probably get laid pretty easily just by picking up some guy at the bar. Dennis wondered why he hadn’t done that.
He wasn’t exactly sure what the ethics were of them hooking up. Clearly, Kyle had more than his share to drink. But he’d been sober enough to get on Grindr, look for a hookup, get himself home, and invite said hookup to his place. He was also alert enough to be loud and rambunctious and flirty. And he was big enough to just chuck Dennis across the room if they did something he didn’t like.
While Dennis debated moral quandaries, Kyle had stripped himself down and play tackled Dennis onto the bed.
Jesus, the man was like an overgrown puppy.
“C’mon baby, let’s have some fun,” he said, rolling onto his back and settling Dennis onto his lap. He tried to take Dennis’s shirt off and seemed very confused when it got stuck on his head. Dennis fought down a sigh of frustration and extricated himself from the bunched up fabric.
“Just chill out a minute, Kyle,” Dennis said, as Kyle was trying to undo the button of his jeans with thick, blunt fingers. “We could drink some water first, maybe get something to eat. Let you sober up a bit.”
“Nah, ‘m horny now. Wanna fuck this tight little ass. You could fuck me too, if you wanted. I’m not that picky. You look like a bottom, though. Is that sexist? I mean, like, um, size-ist? You know. You could probably fuck just fine, short stack. Let me see what you’re working with.” He pushed Dennis’s jeans down without having unzipped them, causing them to get caught on his hips. Dennis huffed but obligingly wiggled out of the denim.
Definitely some level of fucked up, but the man’s enthusiasm was infectious. He looked at Dennis’s cock, once exposed, and immediately wrapped his hand around it. Dennis had been only half hard from the slight scuffle, and filled out the rest of the way in Kyle’s big, soft palm.
“Jeez, you’re like - fun sized! Shit, no, don’t be like that baby,” he stumbled on when Dennis frowned. “I mean, like, in a cute way. You’re just so fuckin’-” he groaned and squeezed Dennis like a squish toy. “Maybe you should fuck me, though. My dick’s like… the size of your thigh.”
Kyle’s dick was not, in fact, the size of Dennis’s thigh. But it was probably too big to just shove in there drunkenly, so Dennis wasn’t going to complain about the consideration.
“Ooh, I know! Let’s sixty nine! Bring that sweet little cock up here, baby.” He hauled Dennis up by the hips. “Bet you’re fucking delicious,” he muttered, biting up Dennis’s thigh.
“Condoms,” Dennis insisted, scrambling to get off of Kyle. Thankfully, the man didn’t protest.
“Shit, you’re right. Good thinking. You’re so smart, baby. So smart and so pretty. C’mere and let me fuck you, huh? No, wait, lemmie tie you up. Bet you’d look so fucking pretty all tied up like a present.”
Dennis’s mind instantly flashed to his last experience getting tied up, and his stomach roiled. No, not doing that again. Definitely not.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” he coaxed instead.
Kyle grinned dopily. “Oh yeah! Fuck yeah, let’s do that.”
“Condoms,” Dennis reminded again, beginning to think this guy was too drunk for this after all.
“Right here, one second-” He reached into the nightstand and came up with a bottle of lube instead. “Oh, wait, I wanted to try this stuff! Just got it today. Supposed to tingle. Let’s just-” He yanked Dennis forward, drizzled a more than liberal amount on both their cocks, and wrapped them up in his hand together.
Dennis had to admit, it felt good. The lube had a slight warming sensation that was pleasant, and Kyle had good hands. It wasn’t especially nice to see how small his cock looked compared to Kyle’s - especially after the man had called him fun-sized - but it still felt nice, and Kyle seemed to actually care if Dennis was enjoying himself. Even if he had the attention span of a golden retriever in a field of squirrels.
“Fuuuuuuck yeah that’s so good baby. So fucking good. You like this? Think you can come like this?”
Dennis was about to say that yes, he could come like this, but Kyle was off again, that hamster wheel brain onto a new idea. “Oh my god you’ve gotta try this.” He hefted Dennis like he weighed nothing, settling him onto the bed and grabbing something from the ground. “It’s called erotic esf- asph- uhpsf- I can’t actually pronounce it, but it feels so fucking good when you come. You’re gonna love it.” He wrapped something around Dennis’s throat and pulled it tight.
Dennis’s hands flew up to it. A belt. A thick leather belt. Unease shot through Dennis’s gut as the belt tightened. Clearly, Kyle wasn’t trying to hurt him, but asphyxiation wasn’t something to play around with, especially when the person doing it was drunk. Kyle kept ahold of the end of the belt with one hand and grabbed their cocks with the other. Dennis gasped, and Kyle took that as indication that Dennis was into it. He started jerking them off together.
Dennis couldn’t breathe.
He knew, logically, that this was something many people did. He also knew, logically, that people died when this went wrong. And while he’d enjoyed a little bit of breath play in the past, it had always been with a fully sober partner, and with just someone’s hands, which he could easily dislodge if things went too far.
He couldn’t breathe, and Kyle wasn’t letting up. He was too focused on jerking them off, moaning and bucking his hips in a way that would have been sexy if Dennis wasn’t increasingly terrified. His hands shot up to scramble at Kyle’s wrist, trying to loosen the belt. Kyle didn’t seem to notice.
Dennis couldn’t breathe.
Oh god, he was going to die like this, under this giant fucking tool, who wouldn’t even know he’d killed someone until he woke up sober tomorrow morning. Dennis was going to die without ever having become a doctor, without ever finding a home-
Without ever seeing Mike again-
“Oh my god sweet cheeks you feel so fucking good. We should totally- hey, you okay?” Kyle’s hand lifted just as Dennis’s vision started to swim. The belt didn’t just fall away once his grip was off it. The buckle had lodged against the leather. “Jesus, what the fuck, holy shit-” Kyle’s stupid fucking paws were scrambling at the belt, yanking at it, digging into Dennis’s skin as he tried to pull it off. Eventually he managed to get it loose, and Dennis dragged in a huge gasp of air. “Fuck dude, sorry! Why didn’t you say you couldn’t breathe?”
“Because you were choking me, asshole!”
Kyle had the audacity to look like a kicked puppy.
What. The. Fuck.
“I’m sorry baby, don’t be mad. Let me make it up to you, here-” He tried to shuffle down and suck Dennis’s cock, but the moment had way more than passed. Dennis pushed Kyle off and rolled off the bed. “C’mon, short stack, let me make you feel good. Oh! I’ve got this toy we can use-”
“No!” Dennis surprised even himself with the forcefulness of his voice. “It was lovely to meet you, Kyle,” he snapped, only 90% sarcastic. “Goodnight!” He shoved his legs into his pants and made a hasty retreat.
Blessedly, the hospital was right where it always was, waiting for him to come back.
He’d ignored his phone for the whole bus ride back, but finally pulled it out to charge as he laid on the stiff hospital bed. Thankfully, he had the next day off. He really hoped he wouldn’t have bruises, but honestly he’d be lucky if his whole fucking throat wasn’t black and blue.
There were half a dozen garbled messages from Kyle, apologies and entreaties for him to come back. Dennis didn’t think that Kyle was a bad guy. And sober, he might even be a lot of fun to hook up with. But that one experience was more than enough for a whole lifetime. Dennis blocked him and deleted the chat.
He was about to close the app entirely, but instead clicked on his own profile. He’d had so many bad experiences on Grindr. Some good ones, yes, but so many more bad ones. Was that the way it was for everyone? How could the damn thing still be popular, if it was? Not everyone was as desperate as Dennis had been, looking for places to stay and willing to put up with shitty situations to get one.
He remembered Mike asking him, the first time they’d chatted, what his limits were. He hadn’t seemed pleased when Dennis had said that his only hard limits were the big four. There was probably a reason for that. And really, when he thought about it, Dennis did have more hard limits. Quite a few more.
He tapped to edit his profile and started adding things to the little blurb he’d put in his about me section.
Underneath the big four, he added:
Caning
Fisting
Blood play
Latex fetish
Sounding
Dry penetration
Unsafe sex
RP as your ex
Then, after another moment, added:
Choking with anything other than hands
Okay, maybe that last one was a little pointed, but Dennis stood behind it. He was allowed to have limits. He was allowed to express his likes and dislikes. To say what he wanted and what he wasn’t comfortable doing. He was allowed to say no and have that listened to. He deserved that much.
Feeling better, Dennis saved the changes and closed the app. Tomorrow was another day, and another chance for things to improve.
***
They did.
Dennis met up with Dave, an accountant who wanted totally vanilla sex. He was polite, tidy, and made sure that Dennis came before he did.
And while that was perfectly fine…
Dennis missed Mike.
***
He waited until the day before the start of his Emergency Department rotation. He thought, hooking up with Mike had been a great start to his IM rotation, why not try to keep that good luck charm going?
The worst Mike could say was no.
Hey! Free 2night?
He tried not to sit around waiting for a reply, but it was hard not to. Mike’s coffee mug was sitting on the edge of the sink, rinsed out and dried. His memories of their last meeting kept flashing before his eyes, making him chub up in his jeans.
Free, yes. Mood’s shit though. Not sure I’m the best company ATM
That… was somewhat concerning. If it were anyone else, Dennis would have clicked out of the chat. He’d had too many brushes with angry men, mental health issues, and violence to take any more risks. But it was Mike.
Is this a ‘wanna b alone & stew in it’ shit mood, or a ‘some rough fucking might help’ shit mood?
If anyone deserved to rough Dennis up a little, surely it was this guy. And honestly, Dennis didn’t think Mike would do anything too far. Maybe it was naive of him to trust someone he’d only met twice, but he doubted Mike would want anything Dennis wasn’t willing to offer.
Honestly, I’m not sure. Willing to try if you are. I want more ground rules, though. Don’t wanna cross any lines when I’m not paying close enough attention to figure it out without you saying.
And that, right there, was why Dennis was still messaging the man. Jesus, he liked this guy so fucking much.
fair. I did actually add a list of limits 2 my profile the other day. check & c if that’s good enough?
There was a pause, presumably where Mike was checking out Dennis’s limits list. Anticipation was still warming Dennis’s blood, making him antsy. He was hornier than he’d realized.
Good list. Definitely not interested in crossing any of those lines. I was thinking maybe some rough sex, toss you around a little, pull your hair, etc. Work out some aggression.
And again, with anyone else, Dennis would be running for the fucking hills. He could still remember the sting of cruel fingers twisting his hair by the roots and tugging sharply, the impact of a fist-
No hitting
He’d typed it and sent it almost without thinking. Shit, that sounded bad.
Not that I think ur in2 that
But just 2b clear
Better, but still not great. He didn’t want to sound like a whiny bitch. And really, if it was Mike, there was a lot more Dennis would put up with.
Like, u can slap me if u want, but no fists, no marks
That was better. He could handle it if Mike wanted to slap him around a little. Hell, he might even enjoy it a bit. Maybe. Or maybe he’d just put up with it, but he could do that, for Mike.
God NO. No hitting. Sensual spanking is as far as I’m willing to go there. How are you with name calling?
The warmth that had bloomed at Mike’s immediate refusal to do any hitting was somewhat dampered by the name calling issue. Before that one awful experience, Dennis had sort of liked a bit of degradation. Just as some dirty talk, nothing serious. After that, he’d barely been able to stomach it at all.
He didn’t want to just agree blindly, and then have Mike feel like shit if Dennis froze. He took his time to run through several different options in his head, picturing Mike saying them to him, calling him those things, while they were both naked and hard. He was pleasantly surprised to find that several of them were still okay.
Worthless/dumb/fag = 🙅
slut/whore/cum dump = 💦💦💦
Good to know. Still into the daddy kink too?
God was he ever. Dennis couldn’t wait.
Yep.
10?
CU then
Dennis scrubbed himself down as best he could, changed into something halfway decent, checked the condoms and lube in his bag, and started the walk over to Mike’s place. He was way more excited than he probably should be. But he couldn’t even try to convince himself to chill out.
It had only been a month, but Dennis felt as though it had been a year since he’d been with Mike. He wanted to be kissed and held and told he was a good boy. He wanted to be there for Mike, to help him work through whatever bad mood he was in. He wanted to be whatever Mike needed.
When Mike answered the door, the urge only intensified.
Mike looked rough. There were bags under his eyes, lines of stress on his face. His hair was dishevelled and his clothes rumpled. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding,” he said as he stepped inside. “Do…” What help could Dennis really offer this man? “Do you want to talk for a bit? Or - I don’t know - hug?” He’d do that. He’d like that. Hugging Mike, making him feel better with closeness and affection. For half a second, it looked as though Mike would do exactly that, would burrow his big frame against Dennis’s smaller one, would let himself be held. But he shook his head. “Or do you want me to strip down right here and let you fuck me against this wall?”
Dennis had half a flash of the last time he’d stripped and been fucked against a door. But this wasn’t the same. Mike wasn’t taking - Dennis was offering, willingly - more than willingly. He’d give Mike anything he asked for.
“That one,” Mike said, something both haunted and reverent in his hoarse voice. He started taking Dennis’s clothes off eagerly, letting Dennis pull off his own, too. Dennis had half a thought of being glad that he’d brought supplies with him, because it meant that neither of them had to break away to get lube and condoms. Dennis could afford halfway decent ones for once. He'd started packing them originally because when he brought them with him, there was no chance a hookup could try to claim that they had to go bareback because they were out. Not that it had even crossed his mind that Mike would pull a stunt like that on him, but it had become habit to be prepared, and now it was paying off for an entirely different reason as Mike was able to roll a condom down over his fingers and sink first one, then two into Dennis’s pliant body.
They were kissing as he did, open mouthed and messy and so so good. Dennis moaned openly, not even trying to hide how turned on he was. Mike was being a little more rough than usual, but nothing like Dennis might have feared. It was just the right side of hard and fast, even when Mike turned him around and pushed him against the wall. Even when he yanked Dennis’s hips back, notched the head of his cock against Dennis’s ass, and thrust.
Oh fuck, that was a lot. Mike only gave him a moment to adjust to the intrusion, licking a hot, wet stripe up the back of Dennis’s neck and biting on his shoulder until Dennis moaned, and then he was pulling back and starting to fuck Dennis in earnest, driving into him at a punishing pace. Dennis’s cock slapped against his belly with each thrust, smearing precome on his skin.
“Gonna stay right there for me, aren’t you sweetheart,” Mike growled into his ear as Dennis moaned and nodded. “That’s right. You take daddy’s big fucking cock like a good boy or else.” The threat hung implicit in the air, all the more thrilling because of its uncertainty. But Dennis was a good boy, and he’d take all of daddy’s cock for as long as needed. He’d be daddy’s eager little hole to fuck out his frustration in.
He must have babbled some of that out loud, because Mike groaned and reached around to grip Dennis’s cock hard. “That’s right baby, just a wet, sloppy hole for daddy to fuck any time he wants, huh? Just a fuck toy for me.” And god, there was no reason for that to be as hot as it was. The position wasn’t really right for prostate stimulation, and Mike wasn’t stroking his cock, just squeezing it at the base, but already Dennis felt like he was close to coming.
As though he could sense it, Mike pulled out, ignoring Dennis’s wail of loss. He dragged Dennis into the living room, shoved him face first over the couch, and drove back into him. His fingers burrowed into Dennis’s hair and fisted in it, hard enough to yank his head back. It should have hurt, except that even in this, Mike knew how to do it right. He had a good grip right at the base, with enough of the strands that no individual one felt sharply pulled. It felt good somehow, possessive and primal and claiming. Mike fucked him while telling him what a gorgeous little slut he was, how he was made for daddy’s cock, how he was such a good boy. And Dennis lapped it up as though he was starved for it.
He had been.
God, he had been.
Mike snarled as he slammed forward and the whole couch lurched. “Shit,” he grouched. Then he pulled out, yanked Dennis up, and was carrying him to the bedroom. He tossed Dennis onto the bed, shoved him face first against the pillows, knocked his knees out from under him so that he was flat, and thrust inside of him again. It was almost like the intercrural sex, but better because Mike was inside him this time. The pressure of the bed against him and the angle Mike was driving at was giving Dennis the most teasing, taunting stimulation - there, but not quite enough.
Mike’s hand came up to wrap around Dennis’s throat, and it was thrill, not fear, that went through Dennis’s body. He used the grip as a shackle to yank Dennis back against him, to drive his cock deeper and deeper. It was more than Dennis could take. He was sure that he’d go crazy if he didn’t get to come. He pushed one of his hands underneath him to grab his cock. All he’d need was a single stroke, he was sure-
Mike grabbed his wrist in an iron grip, pinned it to the headboard, and growled in Dennis’s ear, “come on daddy’s cock or not at all, slut.” And it was the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to Dennis. He felt pleasure coiling tightly around his spine, making his blood sing. And then the prostate stimulation that had been barely there was suddenly more, deeper, longer. He was so close, so close, so fucking close.
He was begging, pleading, not even sure what he was saying, desperate to come. Mike bit down on his shoulder hard, a sound of intense pleasure breaking through the bruising bite as Mike’s cock pulsed inside him, filling the condom. But it wasn’t enough, it hadn’t been enough, and daddy had said that if Dennis didn’t come on daddy’s cock, he wouldn’t get to come at all and he was so close so close but he’d failed and-
Mike pulled out of him, making Dennis cry out, helpless and pitiful. He flipped Dennis to his front, exposing his aching cock to the cooler air of the room. Dennis pleaded again, even knowing that he didn’t deserve it. All he needed was the briefest of touches, just the slightest stimulation-
The condom fumbled in Mike’s hands, the first time Dennis had ever even seen them tremble, and then he pushed it over Dennis’s cock and started to suck him hard.
Dennis lost all control. He must have screamed something, but he had no idea what, and he was bucking and writhing and thrusting, anything, anything, to chase that beautiful, delicious suction. He was coming hard and there seemed to be no end in sight, no stop, only pleasure on pleasure on pleasure.
Finally, the orgasm faded and bled into overstimulation. It wasn’t until Mike gave one last, long suck that Dennis realized that he’d been holding the back of the man’s head and skull fucking him. He was mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry, that was- I didn’t mean to-”
“Relax, sweetheart,” Mike said in a much more relaxed tone than Dennis had heard him use all night. He smiled. “That was fine. Great, even. Enjoy yourself?”
As though he hadn’t just sucked Dennis’s soul out his dick. Still he nodded. “Yes, sir!” God, he wished he could always be this man’s stress relief toy, if this was the method he utilized every time. Dennis could do with a fucking lifetime of this. He barely suppressed the foolish urge to say something to that effect, but he was spared his own stupidity when a wave of exhaustion seemed to crash over Mike. He pressed the heels of his hands deeply against his eyes and rubbed, in a way that was surely not good for his vision.
“Good then,” he muttered after a sigh. “That’s what matters.” He listed forward slightly, his forehead coming to rest against Dennis’s abdomen, and stilled there. Dennis thought he must be just waiting for something, or taking in the post orgasmic glow, but then he took in a deep, even breath and let out the slightest little snore.
He was asleep.
A wave of warmth and fondness washed over Dennis. He didn’t know what had gotten so deeply under Mike’s skin, what had put those bags under his eyes, but he was glad that he could be there to ease the strain a little. To help bear the burden of Mike’s stresses. He reached down and gently carded his fingers through the short strands of hair at his temples, letting the light from the lamp catch the handful of silver threaded there. Mike unconsciously pressed closer to Dennis’s touch, and Dennis felt another wave of affection for this man.
A few minutes later, a car alarm went off a few blocks over, and Mike jolted. “Shit.” Clearly he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Dennis opened his mouth to reassure him, but Mike went on quickly, “hungry? Need anything?”
And jesus, could this man’s caretaker complex get any bigger? He was practically half asleep again and still asking after Dennis’s needs. Still trying to take care of him. But Dennis was sure it was past time for Mike to be the one being taken care of. “No,” he murmured, running gentle fingers through Mike’s hair again, “I’m good. Just sleep.”
“Gotta lock up,” Mike muttered, eyes already closed. He had just barely managed to reach his pillow, and didn’t look as though he was going to move from it any time soon. Dennis stifled a soft laugh.
“I’ll do it,” he offered. It was no hardship, for him to be the one on this side of things. To help Mike out.
“You’re staying after, yeah?” It didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like a plea. Dennis ran gentle fingers through Mike’s hair again, wishing he could transfer his affection through touch, as though the atoms of Dennis’s heart could jump from his skin to Mike’s.
“Yeah, I’m staying,” he said instead.
“Kay,” Robby murmured, his breath already evening out into sleep. Dennis wanted to stay, wanted to cuddle close and fall asleep with him, but he’d made a promise. He pushed himself out of the warmth of the bed and locked up, turned off all the lights, double checked his alarm.
The bed dipped as he got back into it. Mike rolled toward him and wrapped him up, making Dennis the small spoon to his larger one. His face pressed against Dennis’s shoulder. Dennis couldn’t help the little laugh of disbelief that escaped his lips. How was this his life? Held and nuzzled by the hottest man Dennis had ever seen after they had mutual, explosive orgasms? It didn’t seem real. Still, he managed to say, “g’night, Mike.”
There was a slow jostle at his shoulder, and then Mike said huskily, “‘veryone calls me Robby.”
It made a sort of sense. Dennis didn’t use his own real name on Grindr. Anthony was his middle name, after his grandfather. Grandpa Whitaker had been a racist, sexist, bigoted, homophobic jerk, so Dennis felt no shame whatsoever in using his moniker to engage in gay sex.
Robby suited Mike. He looked like a Robby. It fit. It would take a while for Dennis to stop thinking of Mike as Mike, to superimpose the new name over the mental image that had always been labeled Mike in his mind, but he’d get there.
And if M-Robby was being honest with him, then Dennis could do that same. “I’m Dennis,” he said quietly. His revelation was met with another ever so soft snore. Dennis laughed quietly. There would be time to say it again later. Dennis let his eyes fall closed and slept.
***
A buzzing roused Dennis slightly, but it stopped a moment later. A part of his mind knew it was close to morning, close to time to wake up, and wouldn’t quite let him drift back to dreaming. Before he had the chance to convince his body otherwise, his alarm went off, loud and obnoxious. He really needed to change that. Then again, if it was anything less loud and annoying, it wouldn't be effective. “Ugh,” he complained after he finally managed to turn it on. He needed to get up and going. He’d heard a lot of things about the PTMC ED, and he was sure that only about half of them could be true. Whatever reality ended up being, he didn’t want to fuck up his first day by being late.
His last supervising attending, Dr. Glover, had been fairly decent to Dennis, but Emil Harford, who’d showed up two minutes late at the end of their first week, had never regained her good graces. Dennis did not want to be that person for the ED attending. “Can I use your shower?” he asked, knowing that Mi- Robby probably wouldn’t mind, but still wanting to be polite. “I should’ve taken one last night, but we-”
Robby waved away the request as easily as Dennis expected. “Have at it.” Dennis kissed the corner of Robby’s mouth and went to shower. He was efficient, but took a few spare moments to really enjoy the luxurious experience before getting out and drying off. He put on clean clothes from his bag and sincerely hoped that the scrub exchange in the ED worked better than the one up in IM had. Dennis officially hated those things.
When he came out, washed, brushed, dressed, Mi- fuck, Robby. Robby Robby Robby - was standing in the kitchen, coffee finished percolating and what looked like freezer waffles just popping up out of the toaster. Robby gestured for him to help himself, and went back in to take his own shower.
Dennis poured himself some of the fancy ass coffee he’d been craving all month, and remembered to grab the to-go mug before starting in on his waffle. He’d already put another one in the toaster for Robby.
He was mostly finished by the time Robby came back out, wearing some sort of cargo pants, and a black top with a hoodie advertising a brewery over it. It was a good look for him. Dennis still couldn’t decide between mechanic or history teacher. This didn’t seem like the right time to ask, though. He nudged the plate over that held the waffles, which Robby took and gave him a little salute with before devouring.
Dennis finished the last of his own and took a swig of coffee. “I should probably head out.” He pointed to the to-go mug on the counter, already filled with hopefully anticipated coffee. “Mind if I take this with me again?” He tried to sound unaffected, but honestly, he’d probably cry if Robby made him leave it.
“Consider it yours,” Robby thrilled him by saying. “I’ve gotta head out too. Here.” He handed Dennis a banana and kept one back for himself.
It was such a small thing, in the face of all the other, larger things Robby had done for him, but that simple gesture made Dennis’s eyes prick. He blinked hard and nodded in acknowledgement.
“I’ll walk you out,” Robby said, reaching down for a good quality back pack. Some day, Dennis would afford a bag like that. He’d afford a place like this, too. Sheets and soap and coffee all fancy, with no one to tell him he was being frivolous and should grow up. He shook his head to clear away the thought.
“I, um…” Once again, words failed him. It was like his every rational thought fled at the sight of Mike’s sweet, slow smile. They were out in public, on Robby’s very pleasant little street in his probably HOA controlled front lawn - but Dennis kissed him. And Robby didn’t even seem to mind. It was quick, nothing too serious, but it mattered. “Have a good one,” he murmured softly.
Then he turned and walked brusquely down the street and away from the best sex he’d ever had, the only place he’d ever felt truly safe, and the man he was already feeling way more for then he ever should. He couldn’t tell what the future would bring, but after spending the night with Robby, Dennis felt ready to face it head on. There was no challenge the hospital could throw at him that he couldn’t handle.
And then Dennis walked up to meet his new boss, three other newbies beside him, and was greeted by none other than Mike.
***
Michael James Robinavitch.
It made sense. He understood it, on a rational level. And yet, Dennis still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
His chief attending, the head of the Emergency Department, his boss for the next four weeks and then the next four years, if he still kept to his plan to specialize in emergency medicine, was Mike.
Dennis wasn’t lucky enough to have something that good plop into his life without there being serious consequences for his happiness. Good things weren’t supposed to happen to Dennis Anthony Whitaker. They just weren’t.
Already, the charge nurse and Santos were looking at him weird after his interaction with Robby at their introduction. At the time, Dennis had been so focused on trying to convey to Robby that he hadn’t just lied about his name, that he was using a shortened version of his own middle name, that he wasn’t being untruthful. So focused that he missed the sceptical look several of the staff gave him and Robby both at their explanation of how they’d met before.
And it was strange, surely, for them not to know each other, if they’d known each other before. Dennis should have known that the man was the chief attending at the hospital he was doing his ED rotation at. Robby should have known that the MS4 he’d signed onto his staff was the person he’d met already. But it wasn’t as though they could just openly admit that they’d been using nicknames for privacy because they met on a gay hookup app.
Yeah, that would go over like a lead balloon.
Dennis was fairly sure that this fuck up meant the end of his medical career. How did someone come back from something like this? It didn’t seem possible.
And yet, as the day wore on, there was no other shoe dropping. No blow up in his face of the whole situation getting out of hand. Because Robby wasn’t just some guy he’d hooked up with and had filthy, kinky sex with. He was Mike, with his steady hands and his calm demeanor, and his kind eyes. And it made so much sense now, watching Robby move around the ED with calm confidence, teaching the students and residents with that incredible patience of his, the air of authority around him unmistakable.
The man wasn’t going to suddenly become an asshole just because he was at work. No, he was still worried about Dennis, taking care of him - and everyone, Dennis now saw. He was caring for the whole department, moving from trauma to trauma, case to case, overseeing everything. He was dealing with bureaucratic bullshit, he was handling assaults, he was calming angry patients, all while trying to make sure that the students and residents were getting their education and patients were getting lifesaving care.
Dennis began to wonder how Robby wasn’t the one on the other end of the spectrum, looking for someone to take care of him. Dennis had never felt more undeserving of the care and concern with which Mike had treated him, as when he saw the man on the floor in the pedes room.
Throughout the course of the day, Robby had grown into something superhuman in Dennis’s eyes. He’d gone from the perfect daddy dom of Mike to some sort of fantastical idealization of what a man and a doctor could be. Endless patience, endless understanding, endless knowledge, endless endurance.
And then - a breaking point.
Dennis had seen him working on the girl from across the room. He’d seen the wild desperation in the man’s eyes.
So when he walked into that room to get more blankets, he understood. It made sense, all of a sudden. He’d already overheard Dana say that this specific day was hard on Robby, being the anniversary of his mentor’s death. And now this - his stepson’s girlfriend dying with Robby’s hands in her chest. A horrible mass shooting. The teen overdose. The six year old drowning victim.
Dennis felt ashamed of how difficult Mr. Milton’s death had been for him. Yes, the guilt he felt was real, and he deserved to have it sting him, to learn from it and be a better doctor because of it. But he’d been ruminating in his own pathetic sorrow all day for that one death, while Robby was dealing with it over, and over, and over again.
Thirty years worth of loss and grief and guilt.
And now another. A horrible, horrible tragedy. One that wasn’t Robby’s fault, not in any way - but hadn’t everyone been telling Dennis that Mr. Milton wasn’t his fault? It hadn’t lessened the grief any. He couldn’t imagine how that feeling compounded, day after day, year after year, decade after decade.
When he slid down the wall and sat beside Robby, he wished, more than anything he’d ever wished for, that he could impart even a fraction of the comfort, the security, the hope, to Robby that Mike had given to him. He knew he couldn’t, that it was just a foolish wish. He was just some nobody medical student who couldn’t even take care of himself properly, let alone someone like Robby. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to try.
We need you, he said.
I need you, he meant.
He wasn’t stupid enough to think that Robby got up for Tony, the twink he sometimes liked to fuck and pamper a little. But a man like Robby couldn’t let everyone out there down, even when he had nothing left to give. He’d find the strength. And he did. He took Dennis’s extended hand, and he rose.
For half a moment, Dennis thought Robby was going to hug him, to lean on him the way that Tony had leaned on Mike, but then the man pushed him away. It stung, just a little, but Dennis understood. Right now they weren’t Tony and Mike. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything but boss and employee, going through something horrible together. Of course Robby was going to keep him at arm’s length while he was feeling vulnerable.
He couldn’t imagine how difficult it was for a man like Robby to have Dennis see him like this to begin with.
Dennis went out first, giving Robby time to compose himself, without a doubt in his mind that Robby would follow.
***
He should be exhausted, he knew. He should be dead on his feet. And he knew, logically, that he was. But his brain was too wired to rest, and his body was twitchy with adrenaline even after the beer he’d shared with his new colleagues, and so he put on his most upbeat playlist and cranked it through his crummy, ancient headphones. He needed to block out the sound of monitors beeping and people screaming. He needed to move his body in a way that wasn’t a desperate press to keep someone’s heart going, or stop them from bleeding to death.
He let himself dance a little. He didn’t think he was a terrible dancer, considering he was a midwestern white boy. He didn’t ever dance in public, but he’d seen the way men ‘danced’ at the clubs he used to cruise for johns, and he was sure his own rhythm was good enough for at least that.
He was wondering if he would ever be brave enough to go to one of those clubs as himself, just for the sake of enjoying it, when he turned and saw a figure standing in the doorway.
Dennis’s heart just about stopped. He tripped backward, panic searing through him, and then realized he recognized the figure.
Oh shit.
“M- R- D-Dr. Robby!”
Smooth, Whitaker, real smooth.
“I thought we’d finally get a chance to chat, clear some things up, but I think we have something new to discuss, don’t you?” He waved his hand negligently around the room. Dennis glanced at it, and saw it the way the ED chief attending would see it. An unused hospital room, with clothes strung across things to dry, his phone charger on the little table by the bed, his books open on the stand with papers strewn around them…
Oh fuck, this was going to go very, very badly.
“I - I can explain. It’s not what it looks like-”
“You’re not living here?” Robby asked archly.
Fuuuuuuck. “Okay, it’s exactly what it looks like, but I promise I’m not staying. It was just temporary.” Temporary until he could get a resident paycheck, he’d been hoping, but that hope was gone. “I’ll grab my stuff right now, no harm done.” And be back out on the street. Shit. “I swear I won’t come back-” Could he really make that promise? “I know it’s against the rules-”
“T-Whitaker, stop.” Robby was pinching the bridge of his nose, and let out a long sigh. Dennis automatically froze, everything in him ingrained to listen, not only to an older authority figure, but to Robby himself. “I assume you don’t have anywhere else to go?”
What a loaded fucking question. What was Dennis supposed to say? That he could go back to trying to find a Grindr hookup that would let him stay over? That he could sleep in the park? That wasn’t what Robby wanted to hear. “The shelters are probably full this time of night, but I can try-”
Robby cut him off with a shake of his head, muttering something under his breath. “Christ-” He looked as exhausted as Dennis felt. “Get your stuff, kid.”
Dennis’s heart sank. He understood, he really did. It was against the rules. Robby wasn’t his friend right now, he was his boss. He had to look out for the hospital. It was probably a huge liability issue to have a med student staying there. “Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll get everything-” He cut himself off and started to gather his meager belongings. There wasn’t much. Yeah, he’d finally gotten comfortable enough to bring all his books and school things to one place, and had picked up a nicer backpack at the thrift store and a second pair of jeans, but it still fit neatly into his bag and a single box he’d found by the recycling.
Robby took the box. “Come on.” And then they started the silent march out of the hospital. Dennis’s mind clicked through all the worst case scenarios. He could definitely be fired for this. And if he was fired from one of his rotations, what were the odds that he’d be able to get any more? Certainly not at PTMC. Maybe other hospitals would be willing to take him, especially if Robby was kind enough not to include the termination cause in his file. Maybe this would just set him back a year, rather than derail his entire medical career. He could hope, still.
The air outside was crisp, with just a hint of a chill. Dennis felt himself shiver anyway. They reached the intersection across from the hospital and Dennis stopped, turning to try and take his box from Robby. “If I go down 46th, there are some places I can try-”
“You’re not going to a fucking shelter, Whitaker,” Robby cut him off before he could even try to explain. “You’re coming back to my place.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
That… that made a sort of sense, Dennis supposed. Robby had been stressed and overwhelmed last night, before all of this. It was probably exponentially worse now, after everything that had happened. It was only natural that Robby wanted some stress relief. He’d probably already figured out that Dennis was using the hookups to get a place to sleep. Why else would Dennis have been so particular about staying the night? Robby was a smart guy - it wasn’t hard to work out. So, this was - transactional. Just like before. Just like-
But being with Mike hadn’t really been transactional since that first time. Not since that first orgasm at Mike’s skillful hands and filthy mouth. He’d wanted to be with Mike, in a way he hadn’t really wanted any of his other Grindr hookups. It had meant something to him, to get to come here, to be in a place he felt safe, taken care of, special.
That’s not what this was for Robby, though. Dennis was just a hookup. Probably one of many. Robby was naturally good in bed, and he was a good man, who was kind and considerate to everyone. None of this was special to him. It was sex. Fantastic sex, but just sex. So this could be just transactional for him. He’d had a shit day, and could use some stress relief. Maybe he’d want to fuck Dennis in the doorway again, or over the couch. Maybe he’d want Dennis to blow him while he put on an old football game to unwind. Dennis would do better this time. He’d give Robby the best damn blowjob of his life.
“How, uh - how do you want me?” he asked when they’d gotten inside and Robby gave him a drink. Kind, as always. Dennis could do this. Hadn’t he wished, back in pedes, that there was something he could do for Robby? Some way to help him? To take care of him? This was what he could do. And he was happy to do it. Really.
“What?”
“H-here? I should probably shower, though.” He was pretty sure there was still blood around his neck, in his hair- “I showered like, four times at work, but I’m sure that’s not enough, not after everything-” shut the fuck up, moron, he doesn’t need a play-by-play. He pivoted. “And I like your shower, so, it’s no trouble.” That much was true. “I’m grateful, really.” He was. He was. “I appreciate you being willing to still let me, uh-” service you in exchange for a bed? “Do this,” he finished lamely. “We can do whatever you want tonight. I’m fine with whatever.” He’d make himself be fine with it, whatever Robby wanted. Even the things on his stupid little list wouldn’t be off limits. He could do it, for Robby. “If you need rough again, that’s fine. I’m just grateful-”
“What the ever loving fuck,” Robby said, sounding deeply, deeply confused. Then something must have clicked, because his head snapped up and his eyes were blazing. He was furious. “I didn’t bring you here to fuck you, kid, I brought you here because you didn’t have a place to go. And I sure as hell don’t expect you to let me fuck you and rough you up for the privilege.” He looked disgusted at the very thought.
Oh no.
Oh shit.
It clicked, the thing that Dennis thought Robby must have already worked out, and his face morphed into an expression of horror. “Please tell me that’s not why you let me fuck you this whole time.”
“No!”
Even to his own ears, that sounded like a knee-jerk lie.
But it wasn’t a lie, not really. Not… totally. Not mostly. Yes, he’d messaged Robby when he needed a place to stay, but-
“Not this last time!” That much was true. He’d chosen to go to Mike’s, just as a hookup. “I had the room at the hospital-”
“Fuuuuuuuck this fucking day!” Robby shouted, hands yanking at his hair. “Fuck!” He slammed his forehead against the wall just hard enough to be concerning, and made a sound that Dennis hadn’t ever heard come out of a person before. It reminded him of the sound a bull made when it was caught between fear and pain.
“It wasn’t like that, I swear, Robby,” Dennis tried to placate, going to the man and putting a gentle hand on his back. He couldn’t have Robby thinking he’d taken advantage of Dennis, or done anything he didn’t want. But how could he explain that Mike had been Dennis’s only solace for the better part of a year? That even the memories of their time together had kept him going? It sounded so fucking pathetic in his own head, bordering on creepy. “Listen, yeah, sometimes I used Grindr hookups to get a place to sleep for the night, usually if things were really bad and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. But I wouldn’t have come back after that first time if I hadn’t wanted to.” He knew his voice was earnest, because he was earnest. It was the truth, plain and simple. He’d deleted so many guys from his chat log, blocked and barred - but not Mike. “It was good. It was really good, okay? That first time I came in like, two seconds, remember? I wanted to come back again.”
He never thought his humiliating experience of coming in his pants would be helpful, but surely that was proof enough that Dennis had had a good time at Robby’s. That he’d enjoyed himself. But apparently bringing up Dennis coming back wasn’t the right thing to do, because Robby looked slack jawed with shock, and said tonelessly, “you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open - I fucked you anyway.” He gave a slightly hysterical laugh. Dennis thought he was half a second away from either hyperventilating or having a complete total breakdown.
He had been exhausted that day. He’d needed - something, anything to hold onto. But he’d chosen Mike, taken the risk that the man would want to see him again, faced the possibility of rejection, because it was worth it if he could have Mike again.
“You offered, and I accepted,” he said, a little desperately. He hadn’t had any problem with the sex they’d had that night. Robby had been more than accommodating, offered more than Dennis could have hoped for, considering the circumstances. No other random guy would have been as kind about the situation, or as understanding. Dennis hated that Robby saw it as something ugly, when it had been so amazing to Dennis.
But how could he possibly explain? How could he possibly make it clear to Robby, when everything was so jumbled up in his own head? And there was a spot of blood on Dennis’s wrist, in the crease, and he thought he’d gotten that all off, he really should have gotten that all off, what sort of fucking doctor couldn’t even wash his damn hands properly, what did that make Dennis, that he couldn’t fix anything, couldn’t make anything better-
Oh shit… He took in a sharp breath, trying, desperately, to hold it together. He needed to be the strong one here. Robby deserved that. Dennis could-
“Look, I’m sorry. About- so much shit, really. But I’m just trying to figure out where we stand right now.” He just needed to know what he could do. Was Robby his boss, and Dennis needed to apologize for squatting in the hospital, and all the fuck ups he’d made over the course of the day; or was Robby his hookup, and Dennis could get close to him, could comfort him the only way he knew how?
Robby looked at him with an expression Dennis couldn’t read, something beyond his comprehension. And then, slowly, he pulled himself together. He took a deep breath. His voice was gentle when he spoke. He gave Dennis clear, simple directions. And Dennis wanted to object, wanted to say that he should be the one doing the caretaking, that he wanted to be there for Robby, he wanted to help, but maybe he really was a weak, pathetic little pansy like his father had always said, because Dennis couldn’t stop the stark feeling of relief that coursed through him as Robby took charge.
He didn’t deserve this man, as a lover or as a boss, but for now, for tonight, Dennis had him. And he couldn’t help but lean against that seemingly limitless, superhuman strength yet again.
He probably sounded like a stuttering child as he thanked Robby, and he fled to the bathroom to escape the humiliation of it all. He cried under the stream of hot water, not even sure what he was crying for anymore. Exhaustion, grief, loss, sorrow? Fear? Gratitude?
Because he was here again, warm and safe in Mike’s place, and not spending the night by himself in the dark room on the abandoned floor of the hospital, facing his demons alone tonight.
It could be so much worse. Dennis knew first hand how much worse it could be.
Robby had left clothes for him outside the door, and Dennis pulled them on gratefully. They smelled like Mike - like Robby. It was pathetically comforting. When he stepped into the kitchen, Robby handed him a mug of something and passed by him silently. Dennis sipped it - tea.
Robby had made him chamomile tea.
Jesus, this man.
He’d wanted to think things through, while Robby was in the shower. Wanted to have some clear ideas of options, of the way things could go, of what should happen next. But the shock was clearly still affecting him, because when Robby appeared in the living room, freshly showered and with red rimmed eyes, Dennis realized he’d spaced out the whole damn time.
“How are you holding up?” Robby asked him. Soft. Gentle. Teacher and lover both. So much more than Dennis deserved.
He shrugged. “As well as I can, I guess.” The day had been difficult, yes, but then the shooting… “It was… a lot.”
“Yeah,” Robby agreed. “The hospital trauma counselors will want to talk to everyone. They’ll be a good resource for you, help you cope with this shit. Better than I can, anyway.”
Dennis wasn’t sure he believed that, but he said, “okay,” anyway.
Robby sighed. Dennis braced himself. “Ready to talk about the hard stuff?”
“No,” Dennis answered honestly. Buck up, buttercup. He squared his shoulders. “But putting it off will be worse. Might as well rip the bandaid.” He needed to know just how bad it was so that he could start the process of healing, of fixing it. If it was even fixable.
“Okay, so let’s start from the beginning. How long have you been unhoused?”
And so Dennis told him, the whole, ugly truth. His roommates moving out, his failed efforts to find another place, couches and shelters and laundromats. He stumbled over Toby, not quite able to bring himself to admit to the prostitution. Not ready to see the disappointment in Robby’s face, the disgust.
He’d been letting a whore into his bed.
Not just some dirty talk, but a literal whore.
Jesus, he thought he was going to be sick.
“You traded sex for a place to sleep.”
That was almost as bad, wasn’t it? Barely a step above trading sex for cash. Fuck.
“No, I arranged to have sex that resulted in overnight stays on days when I didn’t have anywhere else to go and I couldn’t stay outside.” Even to his own ears, the excuse sounded pathetically flimsy. He was splitting hairs, and he knew it.
“You had sex you didn’t actually want so that you could be somewhere warm and dry and safe.”
Just like Robby to cut straight to the heart of the matter. Simple. Succinct. Dennis hated him for a fraction of a moment.
“Sometimes I wanted it,” he defended. “Plenty of times I wanted it.” That wasn’t necessarily true, but he couldn’t - he just… “I’m not some blushing virgin, you know.”
Jesus, could he be any more petulant sounding? He was like an angry child. It was so fucking pathetic.
“Christ, kid, I’m not judging you. But any amount of times that you didn’t want it and felt forced to do it anyway is unacceptable.” Dennis thought of the times that he hadn’t just felt forced - the times that he’d actually been forced. His head against the door. The hand inside of him. He shook his head to clear the ugly memories away. “And the fact that one of them was with me-”
“I’m sorry,” Dennis practically sobbed. He’d brought Robby into his mess, smeared his ugliness all over someone who was so good, so wonderful, and now Robby felt guilty, even though he was the best thing that had ever happened to Dennis, even though he wanted Mike, so badly, craved him-
“Stop apologizing!” The harsh yell made Dennis flinch and freeze.
His heart was pounding loudly in his ears. He’d never - he’d never frozen like that with Mike - with Robby. Never had reason to. Robby wouldn’t hurt him. He knew that, logically. But it took a moment for his brain to remind his body of that fact, and in that split second he’d been bracing for a blow.
Robby let out a slow breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was purposely low. Like he was speaking to a spooked animal. “Look, none of this is your fault, okay? You’ve been doing the best you can, and the systems are broken, and sometimes people fall through the cracks. I’m not blaming you for doing whatever you had to in order to get by. Whatever you did to survive is fine, Whitaker.” And oh fuck, it sounded like somehow Robby already knew, like he could tell just from looking at Dennis exactly how far he’d gone. And somehow, he was trying to comfort Dennis. Telling him everything he wanted to hear but couldn’t quite believe. Saying all the things that Dennis ached to have someone say, to absolve him of sin, to reassure him. So much more than he deserved. “It’s okay, because it got you through, yeah? Got you here, which is where you need to be.”
Robby couldn’t know just how much Dennis wanted that to be true, so he aimed for levity when he said lightly, “sleeping with my boss?”
Robby chuckled. “Yeah. You know what? Yeah. We can compartmentalize things, right?”
Dennis didn’t consider himself particularly talented at much, but compartmentalizing was something he’d gotten very fucking talented at over the course of his life. “I’d say I’m pretty good at it,” he agreed.
“Then that’s what we do. We keep very, very clear lines. At work, I’m your boss. Because of that, it’s my job to tell you that sleeping on the 8th floor is against the rules and a massive liability issue. Also, being in the ED malnourished and exhausted compromises patient care and is unacceptable from my doctors.”
All of that sounded like a death sentence to Dennis’s career, but he nodded anyway. What else could he do? Robby was right.
“And here, I’m a friend, who is telling you that you’re going to stay until you can comfortably get a place on your own, and that doesn’t come with the expectation that you’re staying in my bed again except when you want to do so, of your own free will.” Dennis almost interrupted to beg, there, to admit how much that intimacy with Robby had meant to him, to plead for more. “And there will be food in the kitchen you’re expected to eat, and we’ll get you some new shoes to wear, and whatever else you might need. Okay?”
And somehow the conversation had gone from his boss explaining gently why he couldn’t work for him any more, to his hookup telling him that he was going to just hand him the solution to all his troubles on a silver platter, to something closer to a sugar daddy situation. Robby planned to just… provide for Dennis? Give him things? With nothing in return?
“But… why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you do that for me, without any… incentives? I’m not - I mean, I’m just-” He couldn’t believe that someone like Robby wanted - with someone like him-
“Whitaker.” There was a pause, and Dennis finally managed to drag his eyes up to Robby’s gentle brown ones. The man looked so sincere. Dennis’s heart ached. “Even if we hadn’t been hooking up, even if I hadn’t already been looking forward to the next time you called, even if I didn’t sleep better than I have in years when you’re in my bed, I still would have offered you a place to stay if I’d found you tonight in the same spot.”
He looked forward to Dennis messaging him?
He slept better when Dennis was there?
Warmth pooled in Dennis’s belly, and a tiny spark of hope took root.
“You’re going to be an excellent physician. You’re a good person. And what you did for me today-”
“I didn’t do anything,” Dennis said firmly. He couldn’t have Robby thinking he owed Dennis, not for something so simple, not when Robby had already given Dennis so much.
“You did. You really, really did. And that matters to me, okay? You don’t get to pull someone back from the brink at the worst moment of their lives and call it nothing, or insinuate you’re unworthy of gratitude. So just live with it.” Dennis wanted to argue, and any other night he probably would have. But he was already so exhausted, and Robby was moving on faster than he could formulate the words. “The only thing you have to decide- and you don’t even have to decide it right now - is whether we’re telling HR that we’re roommates, or something more than that.”
Oh fuck. Oh shit. HR. Jesus, what would the hospital think of all this? Neither option was good. Admit that he’d been homeless and had to stay with his attending? Or tell the truth that they’d been fucking? There was no way they’d believe that Dennis hadn’t slept his way into his rotation position. No way anyone would believe this wasn’t something gross and totally transactional, and it would taint Robby too, make him out to be someone who would take advantage, who could be bribed-
“You can’t- we can’t-”
“Disclose a pre-existing personal relationship? We can, and are, in fact, legally obligated.”
“But won’t you- won’t we get in trouble?” He couldn’t tank Robby’s career just because he was so pathetic. He’d rather trash his whole fucking life.
“Not really,” Robby said, casual as you please. As though they weren’t discussing both their futures. “The fact that you’re still a student is… unfortunate.” Understatement of the fucking century, but Robby went on before Dennis could point that out. “I won’t be allowed to do any of your evaluations, and you’ll answer to a different attending for performance and discipline issues, but day to day, nothing has to change.”
That sounded way too good to be true. “Really?” He couldn’t believe that it could just… be that simple. Robby nodded, but Dennis wasn’t sure he’d really thought it through. “What about gossip? Word getting around that you’re sleeping with a med student. That can’t look good.” Even in a single day, Dennis had seen how rumors flew around the ED. Having Robby be a subject of such an ugly rumor made Dennis’s stomach turn.
“A lot of that is up to you,” Robby said with a casual shrug. “I’m very much a discretion is the better part of valor kind of guy. My personal life isn’t anyone at work’s business. If you don’t want anyone to know, they’re not going to hear it from me.”
And okay, yeah, that was simple enough, but it wasn’t as though they could hide, right? “You don’t think it’ll be obvious?”
Robby laughed. “You mean like Garcia flirting with Santos? Or Javadi with Mateo? Kid, there are so many blatant bits of actual gossip floating around that place that you and I showing up to work together is small potatoes. And as long as you tell me ahead of time so that I can corroborate, you’re welcome to tell half-truths. I’m letting you stay here while you find another place. Or we were friends outside of work before your rotation. Or whatever else feels comfortable.”
The levity with which Robby was treating the whole situation gave Dennis the courage to sass, “that we hooked up and you found me homeless and now you’re my sugar daddy?”
He almost clapped his hand over his mouth at his daring, but Robby just laughed again. “That would certainly make people sit up and pay attention.” His laughter faded, and his face grew grave. “But seriously, you can delete the sugar from that equation at any point and for any reason. I’m not interested in sex as a bargaining chip in any form. I want to help, and that help isn’t conditional on fucking. If you want to be done, then we’re done.” Dennis shook his head, but Robby went on without acknowledging it. “If you want to go sleep with every Pittsburgh guy on Grindr, be my guest. But not as currency.”
If Robby was trying to dissuade Dennis from seeing him as a partner, or turn him off of them sleeping together, he was doing a shit job at it. All Dennis was hearing was more proof of the kind of man that Robby was - someone who wanted to take care of him, in whatever form Dennis would allow. Someone who wanted him, but not if Dennis didn’t want him back. Someone who respected his wants, his desires, his needs.
“And if I wanted to, with you, for my own sake?” He hoped Robby wouldn’t notice the tremble in his voice. It was hope, not fear.
“I feel like a better man would be saying that it’s morally wrong, because of the power differential, because you’ve obviously gone through some trauma, because I’m twenty years older than you.” Dennis’s breath caught, worry shooting through him. “But- I’m not saying that.” Dennis’s heart rate slowed to a more normal rhythm again, relief flowing through him. “Within boundaries, without it affecting our work, with clear, enthusiastic consent, I want it. I want you.”
Oh god, Robby had no way of knowing just how much Dennis had needed to hear those words. Those exact words.
“You want me.” He whispered them back, as though speaking them out into the universe would make them more true, would make it more real.
“Yeah, kid,” Robby said softly, a crooked smile on his face. “Somewhere between you letting me fuck you to sleep and loaning you a coffee mug, I decided I like having you around.”
That hope was now a growing, stretching, living thing, blooming in his chest. “I like being around,” he said softly.
And Robby launched into a speech about how difficult he would be to live with, how bad of a partner he was, how Dennis should temper his expectations of this because Robby was such a hardship, and Dennis just laughed, because - really? Really? After everything Dennis had lived through, after all the years with his father, and all the men after, Robby thought that him being a bit of a control freak was what would scare Dennis away?
“Yeah, well maybe it’s not the healthiest coping mechanism, but I’ve been on my one for a long time, struggling just to get by, so the idea of just handing control over to a hyper-competetent hot older guy and letting myself be taken care of is kind of a dream come true,” he admitted. “And as long as you’re not going to suddenly decide to start taking out your bad moods on me with your fists, then I think I can handle some pissy behavior.”
“Whitaker-”
Dennis shook his head, feeling a little more in control, a little braver. “Dennis,” he said firmly. “Clear boundaries, remember? I can be Whitaker out there. In here, I’m Dennis.”
“Not Tony?” Robby, the little shit, asked with a teasingly raised brow.
Dennis scoffed. “No more than you’re Mike,” he snarked back. No, they weren’t those people any more. Tony had been a fabrication, a carefully constructed paper doll, available to be used by whatever men would have him for the night. Mike was a mask, something for Robby to hide behind so that he could get the relief he needed with anonymity. No, they weren’t Tony and Mike. They were Dennis and Robby through and through now. No going back.
“Okay. Dennis,” Robby conceded. “I don’t consider myself a violent guy. I’ve never hit a partner in anger, and I don’t intend to start now. But if I ever meet the person that made you need to add that as a caveat to living with you, I might change my mind about hitting strangers.”
Dennis’s mind probably should have gone to John, but instead, it went to his father. To the man who had spent years knocking Dennis around. Teaching him one bruise at a time how to detect bad moods, how to walk on eggshells to try and avoid a confrontation. How to take a blow and stay standing, because another punch was so much easier to deal with than being kicked.
“He’s dead,” he heard himself say. And he explained how his father had died, as best he’d been able to gather from the little bits one of his brothers had shared with him afterwards. Dennis hadn’t ever seen the man after leaving Broken Bow that last time, and he didn’t regret it.
“He sounds like a peach.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Dennis didn’t feel the need to mince words. “Kid beating crazy piece of shit is another.”
Robby sucked in a short breath, and his mouth flattened. “I can’t say I’m sorry to hear he’s gone.”
“I wasn’t either, really,” Dennis admitted. “I felt guilty as hell for a long time after, but…” Dennis didn’t know much about Robby’s past, about his family or his relationship with his parents. Maybe what he was saying sounded cruel, or callous, but he couldn’t help being honest, no matter the consequences. “I decided I was done feeling guilty over a person who actively hated my existence. There are better ways to spend my energy.”
Thankfully, Robby didn’t seem offended by Dennis’s coldness. “A very sage way of looking at things.”
“I have my moments.” They seemed so far and few between at times, but Dennis had grown, from the scared and beaten down boy he’d been back in Nebraska. He wanted to say something about that growth, maybe make some sort of a joke, but before he could come up with something witty to say, Robby sagged to the side.
Dennis rushed over to support him, taking his weight until he found his footing again. “You okay?” he asked, even knowing it was a stupid question. This had been a hell of a day, and Dennis hadn’t even experienced the worst of it.
“Yeah, fine,” Robby said, straightening up. He didn’t push Dennis away, though. That was something. “Just… long day.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Dennis agreed.
And then Robby invited Dennis into his bed, not for sex, but just… to be together. To talk, to hold each other, to feel the comfort of another living breathing person beside them. It sounded like the best idea Dennis had ever heard. And when Robby put his arm around Dennis’s shoulder and kissed his forehead, Dennis had the distinct feeling that all was finally, finally right in the world.
***
The meeting with HR three days later was… unpleasant.
Dennis had been shaking in his fucking boots when he walked in. Even Robby’s reassurance that they had nothing to worry about didn’t help. Robby had given him an easy smile as they traded places, Robby going back out into the hall to wait while Dennis went in to face Gloria, HR personnel, and lawyers. Dennis felt vaguely sick.
They’d gone over what to say multiple times, how to skirt the truth carefully so that they could avoid exposing the worst of things. Always, Robby was looking out to protect Dennis.
He sat in the chair that was still warm from Robby’s recent vacation of it, and fought to not let his shoulders hunch up to his ears. He didn’t want to make himself look guilty. Even if he was. Guilty.
“Mr. Whitaker, thank you for coming.”
As though he’d really had any choice. “Sure.”
“Why don’t you tell us, in your own words,” Gloria said gently, “about the events that led to you coming to be employed by a man you had a relationship with.”
“Well I didn’t know Robby - er, Dr. Robinavitch - was going to be my boss. You see-” And he launched into the story he’d rehearsed a dozen times in the mirror. About meeting online, both of them using nicknames - because the internet’s a scary place, you know? You never know who you might meet on there - and how they had become close over the course of many months, without revealing the details of their jobs. And then the most important part to get right. How Dennis had found himself between places, the very true situation with his roommates, just with the timing adjusted, and how when he admitted that to the man he knew as Mike, the morning of his first day in the ED, ‘Mike’ had offered Dennis his own place to stay, and how Dennis had gratefully accepted.
“So you had no idea whatsoever that Dr. Robinavitch was the department head who had hired you?”
“None, ma’am. To be honest, I didn’t even know that one person handled the incoming med students. At other hospitals, there are panels that review applications. I assumed it worked the same way here.”
A brief pause. “And so walking in that morning was the first time you were introduced to your… partner, as Dr. Robinavitch?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was - well shocked is putting it lightly. In hindsight, it all makes sense, but… I assumed he was a history teacher, or maybe a mechanic, at first.”
“You chose to move in with someone you didn’t even know the career of?”
“Well I don’t want to make any assumptions about your personal life, ma’am, but for me, the job my partner works isn’t nearly as important as other things. Mike and I - I mean, Robby, sorry, still adjusting to using his actual name and not the nickname - we just, we fit together. I’ve seen my share of crummy relationships. Robby is good for me, and I’m good for him, and that was more than enough for me to go on when he offered for us to live together.”
“And you didn’t reconsider at all when you discovered that he was your boss? That could put you in many uncomfortable positions. Feeling beholden to someone is quite the weight for a young man to bear.”
Dennis fought the urge to laugh. These people had no fucking idea what it was like to be beholden to someone. Not a fucking clue. And the idea that Robby would make Dennis feel that way…
Laughable.
But he reigned it in.
“Dr. Robinavitch assured me that he’s shared with you his plan for me to have alternative supervision at work. We plan to keep our personal lives and professional ones fully separate.”
“Yes, a very well thought out plan, in theory. But sometimes with power differentials like this, having the option to go over someone’s head doesn’t mean that the other person would feel fully safe to do so. And relying on Dr. Robinavitch not only as your partner, and boss, but also your landlord, could make things uncomfortable for you.”
Dennis knew that her heart was in the right place - on this subject at least. He should be glad that these people were here to make sure that he wasn’t being taken advantage of. And really, he was glad that all these safety nets were there. If the situation was different, and someone actually was being taken advantage of, he would want the hospital to help.
That was the only reason he was able to keep his composure as they basically insinuated that Robby might blackmail or coerce him into situations that were bad for him. Did they not know the man at all?
“I think,” he said very carefully, “that despite only just learning about Robby’s job, I know him better than any of you here combined if you think that there was any circumstance in which he would put me in that kind of situation. Robby was the one who insisted on us coming straight to HR and reporting the relationship. He was the one who came up with all these alternatives for evaluations and supervision. He has been serious about making sure that I have multiple avenues of help, should the need ever arise. I now have money set aside for another apartment, if worst came to worst. I’m not trapped there. I choose to be there. And I will continue to choose Dr. Robinavitch as my partner, unless the hospital is going to take the stance that we can’t be both employed here while we are. Is that what the hospital plans to do?”
Gloria sighed. “No, Mr. Whitaker. That is not the hospital’s stance. We only want to make sure that you are aware of the risks of interpersonnel relationships.”
“And to clear the hospital of any liability, should this go south,” Dennis said with a wry smile. “No, look, I get it, and I appreciate it, I really do. But no one is being taken advantage of here. No one has done anything wrong. We just want to live our lives and be able to work like everyone else.”
“Alright, I hear you, loud and clear. You’ll need to sign these-”
And after signing a mountain of paperwork, it was done.
They were cleared to continue working together, though they were given strict warnings to keep their personal life separate from their professional ones. Dennis privately thought that he and Robby were the least of the hospital’s troubles when it came to inter personnel relationships, but didn’t say so. By the look Robby gave him, the other man was thinking the same thing.
***
Robby returned to work that afternoon, but Dennis - as well as the other students and residents that had worked the day of the shooting - weren’t allowed back in the ED until two days later.
Dennis had some trepidation, despite the assurances he’d given HR, about how he and Robby would work together. They didn’t do anything as pointed as come into the building at different times, but Dennis went to the locker room while Robby went straight to the hub and greeted Dana.
It was, as it turned out, surprisingly easy to keep work-Robby and home-Robby separate in Dennis’s mind. Robby with the stethoscope over his shoulders, giving orders to intubate, rushing between traumas, scolding the residents for going too slow or skipping charting, was not the same man as Robby in his jeans and a t-shirt, loading the dishwasher.
There were similarities, of course. The steady hands, the layers of sarcasm, the soft voice that could turn sharp when needed. But Robby as the boss of the ED wasn’t the man that Dennis came home to.
No, his Robby smiled more, and teased gently, and was open with affection. With Dennis, Robby was tactile, laid back, and loving.
Dennis wasn’t sure he was all that different at home versus at the Pitt, but he didn’t think he really needed to be. He wasn’t the one the whole department was looking to to lead them. The one everyone was depending on. He just had to keep his hands to himself, keep the sweet talk to a minimum, and otherwise he could be pretty much the same at work as at home.
He worried, sometimes, that it would get hard for Robby to keep up the distinct separation that let him be both boss and boyfriend, but Robby seemed to thrive on the change. Dennis wondered if Robby hadn’t spent so long as just a doctor, just a teacher, just the department head, that he’d almost forgotten he could be more than that. And now that he was getting the opportunity to do so, he seemed to be soaking it up as much as possible.
Dennis wanted to tell him that he’d be able to keep doing it, for the rest of their lives if Robby would let him, but he knew that was too early to say.
***
They were at a movie, when Dennis saw him.
While they didn’t publicize their relationship at work, they weren’t hiding it by any means. They went on dates together, grocery shopped together, held hands when they went out. Their schedules didn’t allow for much personal time while Dennis was on his ED rotation, but once he’d moved into his peds rotation they had a little more to work with. Dennis was home at five every night, which meant that even if their days off didn’t line up, they still got an evening together.
Dennis wanted to see the new space adventure movie that had come out, and when Robby learned that Dennis hadn’t been to a theater in years, he’d gotten them tickets.
Robby was buying them popcorn - he bought everything, a fact which Dennis was still trying to come to terms with - and Dennis was standing slightly to the side, grabbing some napkins. And there John was, casually strolling down the hallway with his arm slung around a pretty blonde woman.
Dennis didn’t think about it. It wasn’t a conscious decision. He hid behind Robby. He couldn’t breathe. There was some part of his brain, a logical, rational part, that was screaming at him that he was fine, that John hadn’t seen him and wouldn’t even approach him if he had, and that he couldn’t lay a finger on Dennis out in the open like this, and that Dennis wasn’t some fainting damsel who couldn’t defend himself-
And none of that meant anything when blind terror was opening up a chasm in his belly and his knees felt weak and he felt hot, humiliating tears pricking his eyes. Robby turned with a laugh, feeling Dennis press into him. “Okay, here we go-” He stopped when Dennis pushed closer rather than turn with him toward the door to their theater. “Hey, everything okay?” Dennis couldn’t say anything, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but shiver. “Dennis, sweetheart, you’re worrying me a bit here.”
Gentle fingers under Dennis’s jaw tilted his face up, and then Robby swore under his breath. He abandoned the popcorn on the counter and dragged Dennis to the side of the hallway, out of the stream of movie-goers. “Baby, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
John was long out of sight. Robby was here, right here, taking up Dennis’s whole view, being his whole world. Dennis didn’t think he could manage to be out right now, with people and everything else. He needed to be where it really was just Robby, Robby as his whole world.
“I wanna go home,” he said quietly.
“Dennis-”
“Please, daddy.”
Dennis hadn’t ever called him that outside of sex, where they used it either in the middle or as foreplay. Robby wasn’t his dad. It wasn’t that sort of thing for them. But in that moment, Dennis felt small, and fragile, and helpless. Robby was everything that Dennis wasn’t. Robby was the person who loved him and would protect him and keep him safe. It just slipped out.
Later, he’d hate himself for that weakness, just a little. Later, he and Robby would talk about it, would go through and break down his feelings about it, until Dennis could hate himself a little less for the slip.
But in that moment, he said it without thought or doubt and Robby reacted instantly. His head snapped up, eyes scanning the crowd as though searching for some hidden danger even while he opened his jacket and wrapped it around Dennis, pulling him against Robby’s chest.
The drinks and popcorn were left behind. “C’mon,” Robby said quietly, no hint of frustration of their ruined plans, no demands to know what was happening. He just kept Dennis’s head pressed against Robby’s chest and steered them out of the theater. They’d taken his motorcycle, and he buckled Dennis’s helmet on him with deft fingers, and in a moment, they were roaring down the back alley and headed toward home.
He scooped Dennis up bridal style at the house and carried him inside, closing the door with the heel of his boot. While Dennis was trying to figure out a way to explain, to thank Robby for being there for him, anything at all, Robby got him a glass of water and wrapped his favorite blanket around him.
Dennis promptly burst into tears.
Robby held him and rocked him and kissed his hair.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” Dennis finally sniffled, when the sobs had died down and he could form speech again. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, don’t apologize, sweetheart. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“I ruined the night, I freaked out, I saw him and I just panicked, I couldn’t stop it, I’m so sorry-”
“Dennis, baby, please stop apologizing. I just wanna know what happened. You saw who?”
Dennis braced himself, as though just saying the name would conjure him right into their bedroom. But the thought made him calm a little, because if John was in their bedroom, Robby would tear him apart.
“John,” he finally whispered.
He hadn’t given names, that night when he and Robby had talked about his past, and the sexual exploits gone wrong, so the name didn’t mean anything to Robby. “The one who… pretended I was his ex.”
Robby’s swift intake of breath was enough for Dennis to know that Robby remembered the story.
“Son of a bitch.” He hugged Dennis tighter, kissed the top of his head. “Jesus, I’m sorry, kid. That’s fucking awful.”
“I… I knew there was a chance I’d run into someone from back then one day. It’s based on proximity. I knew it could happen. I just… I wasn’t prepared for it to be him.”
“I’m sorry, love.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Dennis said, half hysterical. “I’m the one that went there. I’m the one that didn’t leave after he fucked my face against that fucking door. I’m the one that got into the bed and couldn’t get him off even when he started-”
“Woah, Jesus, Dennis, baby-” Robby hugged him close as Dennis had broken off, unable to keep going. “Dennis…” He kissed Dennis softly on the forehead and then sat back far enough that they could see each other’s faces. “You told me he was one of the guys that didn’t use a condom, even though you asked. You said he got too rough while he was roleplaying with you as his ex.”
Dennis nodded miserably.
“That’s not all that happened, is it?”
It wasn’t a question. Dennis wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He shook his head. He’d told the most basic versions of the stories, when Robby asked about them that night. Glossed over the worst details and focused on how the experiences had shaped his hard limits list. He hadn’t wanted to sound like a worn out, broken whore - because that’s what he’d felt like.
So he had chosen his words carefully, excluded certain events, or skimmed the darkest bits.
He hadn’t been ready to lay everything out so openly, not back then.
“Will you tell me?” Robby asked gently.
Dennis wasn’t the same man he’d been three months ago. He wasn’t the same man he’d been that night in John’s apartment, frozen and terrified. He wasn’t the same scared little boy he’d been back in Broken Bow, cowering from his father’s fists. He was a culmination of all those people, and the man he’d become under Robby’s loving care. He was brave and strong and smart. He was worthy of kindness and love.
He could do this.
And so he did.
He told Robby the whole story this time, from John telling him to strip in the doorway, to fucking his mouth bare even after Dennis told him to stop, coming down his throat and then breaking down crying. Dennis admitted to the part he found most shameful of it all, not that he hadn’t been able to fight John off, but that he’d let himself be guilted into staying, that he’d listened to John’s sob story, had accepted it as some sort of excuse for his behavior, that he’d stayed, and he’d put himself in the bed that John had beat him in. That it was his fault he was there, winded from John’s fist driven into his ribs, in too much shock and pain to even cry as John switched from treating him like Jenny to something else entirely - perhaps his own twisted view of himself, and the ugly things he’d said over and over as he used Dennis’s body for his own gratification.
He stopped speaking after he explained about how he’d gone along with whatever the man said after that, terrified he would do worse if Dennis fought it. How he’d run as soon as John fell asleep. And then he went silent. Waiting for - something. Judgement, absolution, consolation, Dennis wasn’t sure.
“Dennis-” Robby’s voice was broken, ragged, and when Dennis looked up, his eyes were wet. “Jesus fucking christ baby-” He pulled Dennis close and hugged him fiercely. “I wish I’d have known. I wish I’d have seen him. I’d have fucking killed him.”
It was a lovely sentiment, but- “then you’d be in jail and I’d be alone,” Dennis pointed out weakly.
Robby didn’t have an answer to that. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. I wish - god, I don’t even fucking know. I wish I could have helped you, back then. I wish we’d have met - as Robby and Dennis - sooner, so that I could have brought you home sooner. I wish you’d never had to experience that.”
“I’m okay, I’m fine,” Dennis tried to object, feeling unworthy of all the concern. “I just… I don’t know what happened. When I saw him, it was like all the air left the room, like I was right back there, terrified to make him angrier, terrified he’d kill me if I didn’t say the right things-”
“Fuck, Dennis, I’m not surprised. You had every right to react the way you did. I wish you’d consider pressing charges. That fucker shouldn’t be out wandering free.”
Dennis shook his head. “For what? A bad hookup? It would be my word against his.”
“Baby, this wasn’t just a bad hookup. He raped you. Twice.”
“I stayed, I got into bed with him-”
“You know that’s bullshit,” Robby said hotly. “Anyone can revoke consent for sex at any point and for any reason. You wanted to stop. He hit you, he choked you, he kept going. That’s fucking assault. Not even mentioning that what he did to you against the door was assault from the very beginning.”
Dennis shook his head again, not quite believing it and unsure if it was just because he wasn’t ready to admit that it had happened to him, or because, framed that way, John wasn’t the only one who had forced him. There had been others. It had happened over and over again. Jason with the cane, and Max who had fucked Dennis’s throat till he blacked out, and Hugh with his drugged beer, and some of the guys in the alley behind the bar…
What was it about him that said you can ignore me when I say stop? Was he so worthless that no one cared?
“Oh, love, I’m sorry. Jesus, I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this now. C’mere, baby.” And Robby pulled him into his arms and cradled him close and pressed kisses to his hair and rocked him.
“Thank you daddy,” Dennis whispered, as silent tears leaked down his cheeks. Robby kissed them away and held him tighter.
***
Friendship with Trinity Santos was… challenging. She was prickly, guarded, sarcastic, and incredibly jaded. But spending any significant length of time with her allowed people to see the softness underneath all her barbed exterior.
Dennis seemed to have been unwittingly adopted by the woman, and he was fairly certain it was just because he looked too pathetic to be really mean to.
In a lot of ways, Trinity was a breath of fresh air. She spoke her mind, held nothing back, stood up for what was right, and could be wickedly funny. She also had a strong sense of justice and was the first person to step in if she thought someone was being taken advantage of.
Four months after Dennis had returned to PTMC for his PGY-1 year, Trinity took him out to a diner after their shift and sat him down with a very serious look on her face.
“Okay, look, there’s no easy way to talk about any of this, and I’m trying not to jump to any conclusions here, so I’m just going to come out and ask- are you okay?”
Dennis blinked at her. “Um, like, in this exact moment? I’m hungry and my feet are sore, but-”
“Huckleberry, don’t fuck with me. I think you know what I’m talking about.”
Dennis did not, in fact, know what she was talking about.
“Trin, is there something going on that I should know about?”
“You tell me, is there something going on that I should know about?”
Okay, this wasn’t getting anywhere. “I really feel like if you just gave me a hint, things would move faster.”
“Just- fuck, okay, look, you know that if something was going on, something you weren’t comfortable with, I’d be on your side if you needed help, right? Even if it was someone I liked, or thought I respected. If you’re being taken advantage of, then I’m ready to burn down so many fuckin’ bridges, man.”
“Being taken advantage of?” Oh no, this sounded suspiciously like the meeting with HR.
Trinity slapped her hand down on the table and grimaced. “Fuck it - is Robby harrassing you? Or like, pressuring you to - to do stuff?”
“Oh my god, Trinity!”
“Because you can tell me, okay? I know that he’s been good to me, and I know I was talking to you the other day about how we connected or whatever, but I’m serious, if he is doing some shady shit, that’s not okay, and we can-”
“Trin, stop, it’s nothing like that, I swear.”
“Okay well what is it like, because I saw him grope you the other day after work, and he can’t just-”
Dennis tried to think back, wondering when the hell Trinity had seen Robby grope him. They certainly didn’t do any PDA at work. But then-
“At the movie in the park?” They’d gone to watch Casa Blanca playing on an old reel in the city park, spread out on a blanket and swapping snacks. On the way there, Robby had made a joke about Dennis’s ass, and he’d smacked it, and Dennis jokingly glared at him. He assumed that must have been what Trinity saw. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad one that she hadn’t stayed to see the rest. He and Robby ended up necking like teenagers halfway through the movie.
“I get that it might seem harmless, just little things, and you tell yourself you don’t mind, but-”
“Trinity, Robby and I are dating.”
That stopped her rambling. She sat back and blinked at him. “Uh, what?”
“Dating. As in, that was a date we were on.”
“It - you - Huckleberry, I know you look up to the guy, but if he’s-”
“I don’t look up to him,” Dennis argued, feeling increasingly petulant. “I’m in love with him. We live together for christ’s sake!”
“He made you live with him?”
“Oh my god, Trin, sthap. We have been living together since before I started in the Pitt last year. We got together before I knew he was a doctor and he knew I was a med student. We met on fucking Grindr.”
“You - holy shit. So that first day, when you said you’d met-”
“Yeah, we’d already been seeing each other for, like, months.” ‘Seeing each other’ was a very, very loose term for what they’d been doing, but it was close enough in this case. She really didn’t need the gory details of their getting together story.
“You, and Robby. Dr. Robby. Live together. And are dating. Like, romantically. And have been for over a freaking year.” She seemed to have an almost insulting amount of difficulty comprehending it. “How the fuck is this the first I’m hearing about this?”
Dennis sighed, and reminded himself of how sweet it was that she’d been willing to go to bat for him, and that she was actually, deep down, a very good friend. “Because it’s not something we advertise, and I’d like my private life to stay private, Trinity. Clearly we’re not letting it interfere with work, so there’s no reason for it to be getting spread around. Work’s stressful enough as it is.”
“Okay, look I get that, workplace shit is messy, but in this case, you really need to let HR know. If something happened between you two, he could seriously fuck up your career.”
“Wow, he’d be genuinely hurt that you think he’s capable of that, first off, and second of all, we filed the paperwork with HR the first day.” A tiny bit of a fudge, but close enough. It was filed before the start of Dennis’s second shift, so that still counted as the first shift in his mind.
“Wh- really? And they’re just… okay with this?”
“Uh, yeah? It’s not like they can say who I’m allowed to date. Everything is above board. Robby made sure to triple check that there’s no chance of anything untoward happening or any favoritism being shown. Jack does my evaluations, Shen is my designated supervisor, and Walsh handles any disciplinary action - not that it’s ever been necessary. I have a direct line to HR if I ever need it. There is literally nothing wrong with what we’re doing. So stop worrying about it, okay? And I’d really appreciate it if you keep this information to yourself. If you wanna rag on me about it outside of work, fine, but please don’t make this a thing at the hospital, okay?”
She was silent long enough to make Dennis sweat a bit, but then smirked at him. “Jesus, you’re really serious about that old man, huh?”
Relief swept through Dennis. He chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Who knew you were such a perv, Huckleberry!”
Dennis scoffed. “You have no idea how much of a pervert I am or am not.”
“You’re shacking up with a guy twice your age, you’re definitely a perv. Daddy issues, anyone?”
“Shut up,” Dennis grumbled, but Trinity just laughed, and Dennis knew everything was going to be okay. And really, it would be nice to have someone else to talk about his relationship with. A friend he could brag about his partner to a bit. Yeah, Trinity would gag and roll her eyes, but she’d be happy for him, too.
She teased him all through their dinner, listening to him tell the abridged and amended version of them getting together, making dirty jokes throughout. Dennis paid for their meal with Robby’s credit card, and she called Dennis a sugar baby. Dennis, who had finally gotten used to the fact that Robby didn’t just want to buy things for Dennis, he would be actively upset if he couldn’t, just shrugged and grinned.
They were walking back out into the cool evening air when Trinity’s face grew serious and she tugged at his arm. “Hey, uh… don’t tell the old man that I thought he was - that this thing with you was - something else. He’s a good guy. I just…”
“I don’t keep secrets from him,” Dennis admitted. Trinity’s shoulders sagged, but she didn’t argue. “But trust me, he’s going to be more glad that you’re such a good friend to me than he will be hurt that you were concerned, okay? Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
She nodded, not looking entirely convinced, and then forced on a smile and slugged him in the shoulder before heading toward her apartment.
The following day, there was a sizable bouquet sitting at Trinity’s work station.
Dana, Princess, and Perlah had all ooh and aahed over it while Trinity just blinked at it, as though it might make more sense if she stared at it longer.
“Wow, what a gorgeous arrangement,” Mel said as she came up to admire the flowers. “Someone certainly thinks very highly of you.”
“Maybe it’s someone who loooves her,” Princess teased.
“Well, not like romantically or anything.”
“What do you mean?” Trinity asked, shaking off her stupor, her curiosity piqued.
“It’s just, my sister was really, really into the language of the flowers for ages. And of course this could just be a coincidental collection of flowers with similarly themed meanings, but I find that unlikely considering-”
“What do these flowers mean?”
Mel flushed, being the object of Trinity’s full, intense focus. “Um, well, the language of the flowers can be more of an art than a science, but these-” she pointed to the large purple iris blooms, “means valour, and this one,” she pointed to a vibrant orange flower, “the gladiolus, stands for strength of character, or moral integrity. And this Camilla can mean gratitude, or admiration. And this little one, this kind of violet means protector.”
She made an expression that was half smile, half thoughtful frown. “It’s actually a very pointed bouquet, it’s almost as though-”
“I’m sure someone just threw some crap in a vase and sent it my way,” Trinity said loudly, her cheeks suspiciously flushed. She shooed everyone away from her work station and only then picked up the little card that had been put among the blooms.
It wasn’t until a few hours later that Dennis was able to get a peek at it.
I'm glad he has a friend like you looking out for him.
-R
***
There were times when Dennis hated therapy.
But there were times when he loved it, too.
For one thing, agreeing to see a psychologist was the thing that had prompted Robby to seek mental healthcare, as well.
For another, seeing a professional had come a long way in helping Dennis to actually believe that the shit he’d gone through, both with his family and from the worst of the guys the last few years, wasn’t his fault.
He’d been getting better, slowly but surely, at being kinder to himself, building his self-esteem, seeing his needs as something he was allowed to meet rather than inconveniences or burdens. Therapy wasn’t fixing him, no, but it was giving him coping mechanisms and exercises and an outlet for his deepest, darkest fears. It was also easier to believe phrases like you are worthy of love and your life has value aside from what you can give others when they were coming from someone who wasn’t Robby.
The problem, ironically enough, was that Robby loved Dennis - so Dennis had a harder time believing that he wasn’t just saying what Dennis needed to hear.
Robby was an endless font of love and acceptance.
Dennis was a bucket with a hole in the bottom of it.
Somehow, though, they were making it work. Robby admitted one night, while sweat was cooling on their skin and Dennis struggled with how much he needed from Robby, how unconditional and paternal the love he wanted was, that they fit together. He’d been making his own progress, and could recognize that his abandonment issues had made him compelled to give too much in the past. He felt unloveable, so he put his all into being useful, in the hopes that it would be enough for the people he loved to keep him around. He gave and he gave and he gave and he ended up smothering people.
His need to give and control and fix and provide leveled with Dennis’s need to be constantly shown love.
They were two mismatched, broken things that somehow still managed to make a whole.
And with time, and therapy, and constant reassurance, they were both starting to get better. Robby would probably always want to provide for Dennis, want to make sure he was taken care of. And Dennis would probably always seek not just affection but approval from Robby. But slowly, the manic, terrifying compulsion in both of them was receding.
Dennis was patching his bucket. Robby was pouring less of himself out.
They were both making progress, and they were growing closer, rather than apart, as they continued to heal. Maybe it was because they were both working on bettering themselves, but Robby was Dennis’s biggest cheerleader in self-improvement. He wanted Dennis to heal and grow. And Dennis felt the same.
Watching Robby in the ED… If he and Dennis hadn’t become involved, Dennis wasn’t sure how much longer Robby would have been able to maintain the breakneck pace he’d been moving at for who knew how many years. He’d been working himself to the bone, giving far too much to a job that couldn’t give him anything back. He’d been bleeding himself dry and it was as though no one else noticed it.
Robby was a man that felt too much, in a job where he couldn’t afford to feel at all.
But things had been getting better there, too. There was still constant stress, and soul-crushing cases that haunted him. That would never go away. But with someone at home to give his love and attention to, Robby had a way of refocusing his mind. He could fixate on something else for a while, something that wasn’t clogged up by red tape and bureaucracy, that wasn’t constantly on the verge of falling apart, something that wouldn’t get better no matter how much attention and energy it was given. He could focus on Dennis, and watch him heal and bloom under the love and care Robby gave him.
And perhaps the most telling thing of all with Robby’s own healing was the way he let Dennis care for him back.
It had taken a long, long time for Robby to allow Dennis to even see his own emotional needs and weaknesses. Even longer before he would let Dennis be the one to support him. Before they could talk about Robby’s breakdown the day of the shooting, and Robby didn’t flush with shame. Before Robby would let Dennis be the one to hold him, and reassure him, and tell him everything would be alright.
Part of Dennis’s growth was being stable enough to be a caregiver, not just someone that needed cared for. Part of Robby’s growth was being vulnerable enough to let himself be cared for, and not seeing it as a personal failure when he wasn’t the caregiver.
The next breakdown that he had happened at home.
Dennis hadn’t been at work that day, and while a part of him wished he had been, wished he could have helped, there was a bigger part of him that knew there had been enough competent doctors working on the highway pileup that had left so many dead. In that moment, it was far more important that he’d been home for Robby to come back to, a clean slate that didn’t need his own comforting. His own grief wasn’t clouding his mind, or making Robby believe that he should still be giving comfort rather than receiving it.
And so they sat there, right where Robby had collapsed, halfway undressed. Robby cried as he told Dennis about the kids, and the way their mother had screamed until she lost consciousness when the littlest one stopped breathing too.
Robby pressed his face against Dennis’s throat and cried. Dennis held him. It was really all he could do. Robby already knew that he’d done everything he could for that family and for all the other families from the pileup. He knew he was a good doctor, he knew he hadn’t made any mistakes. Maybe it would have been easier if that wasn’t the case. If he’d messed up, there was something he could fix for next time, something he could do better. Instead he had to live with the knowledge that he’d done everything right and still lost. Dennis just held him, and cried with him, and told Robby he loved him.
Two days later, there was a ring in Robby’s hand as he looked at Dennis across the dinner table.
It was clearly old, the metal well worn.
“This was my great-grandfather’s,” Robby said quietly. “My grandmother took it off her father’s hand after he died in one of the camps. She kept it hidden until she got out, and gave it to my grandfather in 1954. She told me the story every year on their anniversary. Called herself a real Sadie Hawkins, because she was the one that proposed to him. He died when I was young, so I don’t remember him much, but my grandmother always said he was too timid. Said he’d have never worked up the nerve to ask her himself. But she also said that he was the one she wanted by her side for the rest of her life because when things were tough, he was always there. Even if he couldn’t fix it, he was there.
“She gave him this, and asked him to marry her, and they spent almost thirty years together.”
“That’s beautiful, Robby,” Dennis said softly. Robby took a slow breath, looked grave, and Dennis thought he was getting ready to tell him more of the story.
Instead, Robby said, “Dennis, will you marry me?”
Dennis’s mouth did not drop open in shock, but it was a near thing. They’d intertwined so much of their lives, but they never talked about the future. Robby had made comments before about his age. He always made sure to frame any questions about Dennis’s career in a way that never assumed he was staying in Pittsburgh after his residency.
Dennis had assumed they wouldn’t label things any more than they already were. That the future would be something they stumbled into, rather than planned for.
He hadn’t ever thought he would be someone that anyone, especially someone like Robby, chose.
He only realized he’d been staring at Robby silently, with tears pouring down his face, when Robby’s face scrunched up in concern and he said hesitantly, “sweetheart?”
Dennis sniffled. “Are- are you sure?”
Robby huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, love, I’m sure.”
“Like, really sure? Because-”
“Dennis.”
“Oh my god, yes! Yes. If you’re sure, if you really mean it, jesus, Robby, of course I want that.”
Robby’s mouth curled into a grin and he rounded the table, pulling Dennis into his arms and kissing him. “Yeah?” He barely broke the kiss to speak, and Dennis could still feel his smile against his own lips.
“Yeah, yes, of course I want to marry you. I just thought-”
Robby finally managed to pull back enough for them to talk properly, though he didn’t let Dennis out of his arms. “What?”
“I didn’t think you’d… want that. Or, I mean, that you’d be willing - you’re always so careful not to mention the future when it comes to us. Honestly, I thought you’d be too afraid to actually commit to one.”
“I’m already committed to you, Dennis-”
“No, I know that. I don’t doubt that. But making it official, making it a formal, life-long thing… I just didn’t think you’d be comfortable with that.”
Robby sighed. “I know I haven’t been great at hiding how much I struggle with some of this. You’re so much younger than me, Dennis. Just at the start of your career, every door open to you. Before we met I was on the edge of a burnout so bad I don’t think I’d have ever been able to come back from it. I don’t want to hold you back - I don’t want to shackle you to all of my-” he gestured to himself with a grimace. Dennis cupped his cheek gently, and Robby leaned into it for a moment before shaking his head. “But you choose this. Every day, you choose me. You could have anything you wanted, and somehow, you keep choosing me. Even though my knees have started to sound like rice krispies and if I sleep on it wrong my back aches for fucking days, and I’m not getting it up more than once a night without chemical assistance. You choose me even though you’ve seen me at my lowest points, twice now, and both times you’ve been at my side, supporting me, pulling me back from the brink. And it doesn’t - you don’t see me as less, because of it. Because I break, because I fail, because I need you. You want me anyway. And life is too short, too fragile, to waste another moment. So if you want me, if you’ll have me - I’m yours, in every way I can be.”
Dennis’s heart broke a little, hearing Robby talk about himself as something that could ever be a burden. As though Dennis could do anything but love him. “Robby…” He kissed him, softly, gently. “I have loved you from the first night I met you. You’re the one who showed me - so many things, but, mainly that I could be treated with care, with consideration. You were there for me at my lowest points. You’re the reason I made it through. Getting to be there for you - it feels like I’m finally getting to pay back even a fraction of what you’ve done for me. But I know that this isn’t transactional. We’re not keeping score. We’re just here for each other, to support each other, because we’re good together.”
“Yeah we are,” Robby agreed.
“I think in the beginning, we were unbalanced. Not in any toxic ways, but because I so desperately needed saved and you so desperately needed someone to save. The whole daddy thing was supposed to be kink, but it wasn’t for me. I needed so much, and I felt so fragile… If you’d have been a different sort of man, you could have used that to do anything with me. You could have gotten me to quit medicine, give everything up, stay home as some regressed pathetic little thing chained to your bed and desperate for every scrap of affection you give me.”
Robby’s face flashed through a series of emotions, too quick for Dennis to parse them out. “I wouldn’t ever-”
“No,” Dennis assured him quickly, “I know that. That’s the point. You could have. But rather than keep me as that fragile little thing totally dependent on you, you wanted me to grow and heal and get stronger. Being with you hasn’t ever been about tying me to your side, even though it might have been what we both wanted. It’s always been a choice, just like you said. And the support you give me, the encouragement, helping me become someone able to stand on my own, is why I keep choosing you. Why I’ll always choose you.” He kissed Robby again, and again, and again.
Dennis pressed his burgeoning erection against Robby’s thigh and Robby moaned.
“Still gonna let me be your daddy sometimes, even when I’m your husband?” he asked huskily. And oh fuck, that always got Dennis going. Now the word husband was going to do it, too. Hearing them together, about Robby, was doing wicked things to Dennis’s insides.
“God yes,” he breathed. “Yes please.” Dennis wrapped his legs around Robby’s hips, and Robby pressed him against the wall, pinning him in place with their cocks pressed together deliciously. “Bed?”
Robby groaned and shook his head. “I’ve got a confession, first,” he panted, having to force himself to turn away from Dennis’s lips, breathing hard against the side of his throat. “I’d never, never, in real life - but fuck, hearing you talk about me keeping you chained to my bed, desperate for daddy…”
Dennis could feel the way Robby’s cock pulsed against him with how arousing he found it. Dennis bucked his hips, increasing the pressure. “Yeah?” he asked, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t at all bothered by the confession. “Like the idea of me being completely at your mercy? Always naked and slicked up and open - free use for you any time you want it? Cock-drunk and desperate for you all the time?”
“Fuck, baby-”
“Want to fuck me while I’m begging for daddy’s cum?”
“Yes,” Robby growled, his teeth sinking into the side of Dennis’s neck. He shuddered, helpless against the wave of arousal that washed through him. Maybe it was fucked up, but god, this was doing it for him, too. And knowing that Robby wanted him that much, that he’d fantasize about such a thing…
“Robby-” Dennis took a breath to try and calm himself, then another. He pushed at Robby’s shoulders. There was a single moment of resistance, and then Robby shifted back. He let Dennis’s legs slip off his hips and his feet touch the floor. “One second. Just - I’ll be right back.”
It was probably cruel, leaving Robby standing there after he’d just confessed such a private, filthy fantasy, but, well, Dennis was hoping that the next few hours would make up for whatever doubt Robby felt in the next few moments. He dashed back to the bedroom and scrambled through the contents of his bedside drawer for - ah, there it was, still in the packaging. He’d ordered it weeks ago, and never found the right moment to bring it out. It had originally been for an entirely different scenario, and there was a leash and everything that matched, but for tonight all he needed was this, the supple red leather with an engraved brass nameplate and solid brass buckles. He went back to Robby still standing in the dining room looking lost, and handed him the collar.
Robby looked down at it, lips parted in shock. Dennis watched the way his pupils dilated as he saw the inscription.
Dennis
Property of M. Robinavitch
“Sweetheart…”
“Let’s make that fantasy true, just for tonight. I want to be yours, completely. You can do anything you want to me, anything at all. Treat me like I’m a toy you keep chained to your bed, daddy’s little cum-dump whose only job is to be a good little fuck-toy and take daddy’s cock.”
Robby took in a ragged breath and then his lips were crashing against Dennis’s, the kiss brutal and consuming. Something warm wrapped around Dennis’s throat, and when Robby finally pulled back, the collar was already buckled on. Robby slipped two fingers under it, testing that there was enough give for Dennis to breathe properly.
And that - that was exactly why Dennis wanted this. Because having a collar around his throat could so easily remind him of a belt wrapped around his throat in some drunk idiot’s bed, too tight for Dennis to breathe. It should remind him of that. Instead, Dennis felt only the comforting weight of Robby’s ownership around his neck. Because Robby checked that it was safe, he made sure Dennis was comfortable, he never let anything slip through the cracks.
Dennis could put himself in Robby’s hands with 100% confidence, because Robby would never, never hurt him. Would never take things too far. He’d always put Dennis first, and take care of him, no matter what. That was a big part of why this was so appealing. Dennis finally had someone he could trust to give himself to, entirely.
“I should be saying no to this,” Robby murmured, pressing another, softer kiss against Dennis’s lips. “We… we just got engaged. I’m supposed to be showing you how much I love you, showing you how good I’ll be to you. But-” He shook his head. “God, we’re so filthy.”
“You show me those things every day, daddy.” It wasn’t said coyly, or for show. It was the truth, simple and straightforward. “I know how much you love me. Right now, I wanna feel how much you want me. Just how depraved you can be with me.”
Robby’s thumb rubbed lightly over the engraving and he pressed one last gentle kiss to Dennis’s lips. “Go get in my bed, baby. I want you wet and open by the time I get there - ready to take your daddy’s cock in any hole I wanna use. You can touch and use any toys you like, but if you come, you’re gonna be in a world of trouble. Understand?”
Dennis nodded eagerly, his cock pulsing with arousal. “Yes, daddy.” He turned and dashed back up the hall, stripping his clothes as he went.
Boyfriend, partner, daddy - husband. Dennis would take anything from Robby, no matter what title they used. They all meant the same thing, in the end.
The person who loved Dennis, unconditionally.