Chapter Text
Dennis doesn’t recall when he first noticed Dr. Robinavitch. It might have been the first ten minutes of his ED rotation, it might have been the first hand resting on his nape, it might have been when he extended a hand in the pediatrics room/makeshift morgue, fuck, it might have been the picture he saw of the man in the PTMC website. Regardless, Dennis was at Dr. Robby’s mercy since that very first day.
At first, the slight brushes of calloused hands on tender skin felt innocent, accidental, perhaps even primal. Dennis tried his hardest to not ponder on the contact, but here he was—lithe and broken under Robby’s spell. For being at the older man’s mercy, the raw connection felt merciless.
Dennis assumed Robby knew what he was doing, that Robby knew at some point that, for lack of a better word, manhandling had crossed from primal to carnal. The once innocent touches blurred into pressurized grips, thumbs sinking into his collarbone; the twirl of the soft curls resting at the bottom of his nape entangled into strong digits, tugging with the slightest hesitation.
Dennis wishes Robby would ravish him right here, right now.
He had to have felt it, too? He had to have known his impact on the resident by the way Dennis sank into every slight brush of broad shoulders, the way he disappeared into a sexual fantasy that made a blush creep up his neck when Robby let a hand linger at the small of his back. If Robby didn’t know, then the man was either kidding himself or was just a huge fucking tease.
“Whitaker,” there he was, his Robby. So possessive, Dennis' mind wandered.
Dennis looked up carefully from the chart he had all but abandoned and softly looked at Robby through wishful eyelashes, lips slightly parted at the Roman statuesque man. “Yes, sir?”
Robby blinked and something in him darkened. He feels it. He knows. The attending slammed down a set of reports Dennis had scribbled through and huffed. “What is so hard about writing a legible report?”
Dennis blew a breath out that almost sounded like a laugh, but not quite. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize, I must have been going a mile a minute.”
“Are you intentionally being dense, or are you always this way?”
Before Robby’s sabbatical, he had never spoken to Dennis like this. He had always let his voice feel like silk against the resident’s ears, not daring to raise an octave above his typical register. Dennis found this endearing, like he was a fawn who had lost his mother.
But this? This made his dick twitch.
He doesn’t quite understand what shifted in Robby to make react like this towards him, but he was not the only one who noticed. Trinity, his best friend and roommate, had been the first to acknowledge the shift in behavior.
One Week Earlier
“Dennis, I’m telling you this is not normal. I have half a mind to cuss him out in the middle of the nurse’s bay,” Trinity scowled.
“Trin, no, I promise it’s not personal. It doesn’t feel personal. I’m sure he’s just going through something.”
Dennis hoped it was the painful lust he had felt too.
“No, neither, sir. It won’t happen again. I apologize,” Dennis shifted, softly huffing at the friction he was allowing himself to experience. If Robby had noticed his hard on, he couldn’t tell. The man’s face was stone cold, like Dennis was the Medusa to his Neptune. Maybe Minerva is hearing him now, blessing him with the beauty of silver hairs gracing a beard he desperately wishes to scratch his cheek against. Perhaps she’s punishing him with the rigid silence as if he really was the Gorgon.
Finally, Robby shook his head, leaning closer with a threatening tone. “Do not make me tell you again, Whitaker. Mistakes are not welcome in my ED, big or small.” Robby pauses, voice softening, “Is attending something you strive to be, Bambi?”
Dennis nods frantically, suddenly feeling pressure on his chest. He licked his lips at the pet name, literally, trying to wrap his “dense” mind around the shift in tone. “More than anything, Dr. Robinavitch,” seizing the moment to hopefully make the attending squirm by the use of his full last name in the most innocent tone he could muster.
“Well,” Robby coughed. Success, Dennis grinned, “Fix it and stop getting crumbs on my damn desk.”
With that, Robby started to brisk past him, not before placing a rough hand in the dip of Dennis’ neck, softly pressing all of the spots the younger man wishes he’d kiss. He’d have to take care of his problem before rewriting the God forsaken report that now covers his lap.
*·.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆·̩̩.̩̥·̩̩⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊.
About halfway into the shift, Dennis can no longer bear it. He needs relief, satisfaction, to be satiated. He had long finished rewriting the report he had sloppily given Robby; long taken care of the problem he had unintentionally given him, but had not seen the man in sometime. Robby was an attending, a busy man. However, his absence in the ED was something everyone around him had noticed as the older man refused to really ever leave. Always came in entirely too early, always left extremely too late. Disappearing was reserved for after hours. Dennis had caught a glimpse of him once or twice on the roof after a long, fifteen hour day. He likes to think Robby was glancing back.
Eventually, since Dennis is so desperate for his attending’s attention and praise, he decides to try to the one place Robby never is—his office. He figures if his desire to see Robby cannot be fulfilled with his hungry eyes, maybe he can catch a glimpse in an old photo he recalls locking onto Robby's resident days. Though Dennis loved the look of the older man, something about his younger days makes Dennis wish he could turn back time and slowly suck the cock he’s been aching to taste. Did he have these perverted thoughts when Robby was his age? Does he have these sinful wishes now? He had hoped so.
Dennis raps on the heavy door twice, and to his gleeful surprise, a familiar and ragged voice had called out. “Yes?” clearly annoyed, Dennis almost squealed like a school girl.
“Dr. Robby?” He peered into the room, one hand resting around the door and the other on the knob in case he had to make a great escape.
Robby ever so slightly glanced up, eyes filled with inquisition. “What can I do for you, Whitaker?” Did everything have to be a question? Why couldn’t Robby ask him to come in, drop to his knees, and have him express his appreciation? Another question, another time.
“Sir, I have the rewritten report for you. I do hope it’s more up to par with your extremely reasonable standards,” Dennis cringed, praying it didn’t sound as insincere as it did in his head. He meant it, he really did.
“Also,” Dennis scratched his neck, “I do appreciate the time you take to ensure I am becoming the best possible doctor I can be. I apologize for my oversight.”
This seemed to peak Robby’s interest, as he relaxed back in his chair and stretched his dark haired arms behind his head. God, Dennis thought, please forgive me, as I want to sin.
Robby hummed, taking the fresh report from his hands. As he pulled out a blue sharpie from his desk, he pointed to the seat on the other side of the desk, instructing Dennis to sit. Of course, because Dennis wanted to be the best pupil he could be for his undeniably hypnotizing boss, he sat.
“Dennis, I almost wish you gave me the same report from earlier so I didn’t have to be subjected to the multitude of spelling errors I cannot escape,” Robby’s face went into that cold setting again, this time with a hint of amusement as he tried to hide a slight smirk. Dennis noticed. He knows.
Dennis smiled softly, apologizing quietly as he watched Robby scribble navy blue circles around the “multitude” of spelling errors—the resident knew this was an exaggeration, but still let the man continue on. Right now, he couldn’t dare to speak. The arousal he felt in the pit of his stomach as his mentor ran his hand through his beard, the slight crease at his crow’s feet as he tried not to berate the younger man made this whole experience worth it.
No God could save Dennis now, and he was right where he wanted to be.
“Better on the handwriting, Whitaker. The typos are something to be desired but I will excuse this for now as I ease back into my routine. However,” Robby added, “don’t get comfortable with my generosity.”
Dennis blushed and nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir. Like I said, I really do appreciate the time you’re taking to critique me. I’ll do better.”
Robby slowly stood up, taking his glasses off with one swift motion. Dennis was slack-jawed at the sight of his attending rounding the desk, sitting with defined thighs wide open, right in front of Dennis. He was a fool not to stare, so he did.
If Dennis didn’t think he was dreaming, he definitely does now. Next thing he knew, he was carefully studying the hand that came to rest under the tip of his chin, slightly tilting his head upwards to meet the older man’s gaze.
And then Dennis heard it.
“Good boy.”
He totally fucking knows.