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It started off simple. Robby had dozed off on his couch after a shift. The TV whirred on in front of him, the voices of whatever show was playing tuning in and out of his dream. He was in the ED, but it was empty. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, bright and beaming down onto him. No monitors beeped, no phones rang.
He heard a faint, familiar laugh behind him. Robby slowly turned around and looked around the room. Still no one. He saw a white flash in front of his eyes, an image of soft pink lips came into view. They curved slowly into a grin, imperfect in a way he knew immediately: the two incisors slightly too large, creating a faux gap in the middle and a rabbit-soft smile.
Whitaker.
Robby stumbled forward instinctively, reaching out before he realized he was doing it. The image dissolved at the edges, unraveling into pale smoke that curled through his fingers. Cold brushed against his hand, almost like a breath.
He blinked, and another visual appeared before him. Sunken in blue eyes, looking up and wanting under the bright lights. The rest of the room blurred into darkness until all he could see was Whitaker, his body connecting to the rest of him now; standing close enough for the edges of him to blur. Soft blond curls hung over his forehead, messy and a little damp like they were after he’d done compressions.
“Found you.” Whitaker said, cracking that sweet smile again.
Robby jolted awake, his hand grabbing the TV remote and turning the screen off. He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “What the fuck,” he murmured as he sank back into the couch with a quiet sigh. The quiet words from his dream rang in his ears. Found you. What did that even mean? Maybe it was something he’d heard before from the younger man, that was more likely than any other meaning.
He pushed himself up from the couch and rubbed his hand against his side, walking to his bedroom to pass out on top of his covers like he always did.
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Robby avoided Whitaker like the plague the next day, pawning him off onto literally any other patient despite the younger doctor following Robby around or needing confirmation before ordering medications. It was like he couldn’t get away from him, even just his presence. Anywhere Robby went, he had a view of him, someone was talking about him, looking for him, his brain was fried with thoughts of Whitaker, Whitaker, Whitaker.
He somehow got through half of his shift without having to interact beyond a mere: Good catch, every so often. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blur of blond curls run past him, quietly muttering, “Ew ew ew,” as he disappeared around the corner toward the scrub exchange. Robby couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head fondly. Whitaker had been on a good streak of clean scrubs.
Minutes later, he felt an uncomfortable tenseness in his lower stomach and huffed out a breath. He scanned the room and no one seemed to need him immediately, so he took the chance to get to the restroom. He nudged the door open and choked on a breath. Whitaker was standing in front of the sink, shirtless, a neatly folded pair of black scrubs sitting on the edge while he scrubbed the dirty pair clean under the running water. He lifted his head, glancing between Robby and the scrub shirt. “A patient threw up on me.”
Robby blinked, his eyes falling right to Whitaker’s bare chest. Pale, but toned in all the right places. Pink, healed over top surgery scars lined underneath his pectorals. He cleared his throat, dropping his gaze. Suddenly the bathroom tile was very interesting. He forced out a laugh. “Ha. Gross.” He muttered weakly, turning away and standing in front of the urinal. He popped the button of his jeans, unzipped his fly and looked down with wide eyes at his half hard dick. Great.
He let out a quiet groan, tucking himself back into his pants and deciding he needed to get out of here and could find another chance later.
Whitaker wrung out the wet shirt, folded it and set it to the side. He tugged the fresh shirt over his head and tucked it into the elastic waistband of his scrubs. Thankfully, nothing had gotten onto his pants. Robby didn’t think he could handle seeing the younger man in his underwear, tight fabric against the soft curve of his ass. Robby shook his head, “I’ll see you out there.” He gave Whitaker a curt nod before pushing the restroom door open and leaving.
A couple of hours passed, leading him to the end of his shift. Finally. His mind hadn’t been kind to him. Pictures of Whitaker’s topless body swirled around in his head, thoughts of what else could be hiding underneath his scrubs. He rubbed both of his hands over his face and walked toward the locker room, avoiding the charge desk because Dana could always read his mind.
He tried to avoid thinking about Whitaker.
He failed.
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“Robby— hnngh, please don’t stop.”
Slow rolls of his hips, pushing down against Robby’s mouth like waves lapping up onto the shore. Hands grabbed at his hair, blunt nails scratching through it as soft moans echoed throughout the room. “Oh, Robby, oh my god.”
Robby’s eyes blinked open, looking up into Whitaker’s heavy blue eyes. His lips were parted, gasping and moaning with each drag of Robby’s tongue through his folds. Fuck, it was like he could taste him. It felt so real.
His moans got higher and higher and his hips twitched upward away from Robby’s mouth, “Please, ah!” Whitaker whined, “'m gonna cum.”
Robby finally became aware of his surroundings. Whitaker was sitting on his face. He grabbed at those soft hips and pulled him right back down. “Fucking cum for me, that’s a good boy.” Robby finally spoke, or more so groaned into his cunt. His tongue swirled circles around his dick as he slid his hands back to grab his ass to encourage the grinding against his tongue.
Whitaker slumped forward onto the headboard, staring down at Robby as he fell apart above him. His thighs tightened around Robby’s head, squeezing him in the best way. Robby’s tongue went flat against his clit, letting him ride through his orgasm. “So good, so good.” Whitaker panted as he collapsed down beside Robby. “You’ve been thinking about that all day, haven’t you?” He smirked.
Robby flinched awake, sitting up suddenly and looking around the room with wide eyes. He was alone, because of course he was. He grimaced at the damp feeling in his boxers and looked down. What was he, thirteen? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a wet dream. Sure, morning wood happened for him occasionally, but nothing like dreaming about his subordinate riding his face. He stared at his twitching cock that was leaking a wet spot into the fabric of his gray boxers. “Jesus Christ.”
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.
Robby laid back down, his head sinking into his pillow. He lifted his hips enough to tug his boxers down, his cock sprung free and tapped against his stomach. A sick part of him realized he hasn’t been this hard in ages. He spit into the palm of his hand before wrapping it around himself with a hiss, “Fuuuuck.” He pumped his fist slowly, keeping a firm grip around the shaft.
Oh well, if he was going to do this, he may as well lean into it. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. He tried to remember, he’d never been much for visualizing. But there Dennis was again, so pretty looking down into Robby’s eyes as he rocked back and forth against the delicious pressure of his tongue. His soft moans falling so beautifully from his lips as Robby ate him out.
“Fuck, that’s it.” Robby grunted. He felt his face get hot after saying that, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care as he fucked up into his fist. He was still picturing Whitaker, but his mind had gone elsewhere. Whitaker’s lips wrapped around his cock as he thrusted into the tight heat, his tongue dragging back and forth along the underside as he choked down Robby’s full length.
Robby’s hips twitched up, “Oh fuck, Dennis.” He murmured as he spilled over onto his hand, panting and blinking his eyes open.
He was so fucked.
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“Dr. Robby!”
Robby’s head whipped over his shoulder just before he slid his helmet on. He lowered it instead to his lap. Dennis approached him slowly, holding something in a brown paper bag at his side, his thumb rubbing against the side of his pointer finger.
“Hey, kid. Yeah?” Robby cocked his head and tapped his fingertips lightly on the shell of the helmet.
Dennis held the bag out to him. “You didn’t take any cake earlier.” He laughed softly, “Dr. Abbot told me to get rid of it and force you to take a slice home.”
It was Donnie’s birthday, Robby never had a chance to make it into the lounge to get a slice of cake. Not that he really wanted one to begin with. Jack was always trying to force feed him it seemed. He rolled his eyes but still cracked a smile at Dennis, “Sure. Thanks.” He took the bag, looping it over the handlebar of his bike. “That’s sweet.”
Dennis’ whole face brightened up, he folded his hands in front of him and rocked back on his heels. He paused before he took a step forward, putting a hand on the handlebar and smoothing his finger over the metal. “It’s a nice bike, by the way.”
Robby cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He watched Dennis’ nimble pointer finger drag along the ridges of the metal. He has told him that before, Robby found it cute that he was saying it again now. A part of him wondered why the younger man was lingering, he did what he came out here to do. Why was he sticking around?
Not that Robby minded, he looked so pretty washed in the orange light of the ambulance bay. The dark sky shadowed his face in a way that made only his prominent features pop. Robby could see faint freckles dusted over his cheeks, the mark on the bridge of his nose, he always wondered if it was a birthmark or a scar.
He blinked back to reality where Dennis was looking back at him. Blue eyes flickered over his face, landing on his lips. Dennis’ tongue darted out to wet his own before they parted.
“Well, that was all.” He shrugged and stepped back from Robby’s bike.
“Oh. Okay.” Robby nodded slowly.
“I‘m gonna go home.” Dennis lifted his hand, saluting with two fingers off of his forehead. He grimaced at his own action as he dropped his arm back to his side.
Robby laughed. He now had a theory about why Dennis was lingering. “Jesus, kid. Are you trying to ask for a ride?”
Dennis’ lips pressed into a flat, downturned line. He sighed and tapped his fist against his thigh. “Maybe.”
This was a bad idea. But he’d just take him home, and that would be it. He definitely hadn’t day-dreamed about Dennis wrapped around him on his bike, not at all. Robby took it as a sign that it was more than just a sexual want when he started appearing in his daily thoughts. Not just at night when he was sleeping and vulnerable.
“Alright.” Robby handed him the helmet, “Put that on.”
Dennis grinned. “Thank you, Dr. Robby! Our apartment is close.” He pulled the helmet on, adjusting it to fit his head a little better before straddling the bike behind Robby. His arms wrapped around his middle, hugging onto him.
Robby sucked in a deep breath and revved the engine, “Hold on tight for me.”
He heard a small hum of confirmation from Dennis. He peeled out of the ambulance bay, following the directions that were hollered at him every few blocks. Dennis and Trinity’s apartment was close. So close that Dennis definitely could have walked with no problem, and God, that made Robby feel dizzy to think about. He pulled off the road, leaning the bike to the side and planting his foot firm on the ground.
Dennis slowly pulled away from him, holding onto the strap of his backpack as he got his feet back onto the ground. He scuffed his boot against the pavement and lifted his eyes to look at Robby. “I think I get why you ride that death trap.” He giggled, “I’ve never felt cooler.” He pulled the helmet off and handed it back to Robby.
“Mm.” Robby mused, “Flattery works on me, kid.”
Dennis grinned, “Good to know.”
Robby felt his face warm up. He regained some composure and straightened his back with a wince while he placed the helmet onto his own head. He tilted his head toward Dennis , “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
A nervous expression washed over Dennis’ face. He took a sudden step forward and pressed his lips into the side of Robby’s helmet. He could hear the wet pop when he pulled back and gently patted Robby’s arm, “Um. Shit. Yeah, you too. Get some…sleep. Okay, thank you for the ride. Okay bye.” He turned quickly and walked off toward the apartment building.
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Apartment buildings blur and morphed into old, second empire houses as Robby rode, steel and glass traded for brick and mortar. Dennis’ nervous expression, the wet pop of his lips disconnecting from his helmet kept playing through Robby’s mind, and the only thing keeping him grounded was the steady rumble of his bike beneath him. When he arrived back at his home, red brick and sandstone trim looming overhead, the sun had nestled below the horizon. He hardly remembered to bring the cake inside in his haze.
Falling into bed, washed and stripped, Robby knew Dennis would be making another appearance in his dreams. For the first time in many, many years, he finds himself looking forward to sleep’s embrace. It doesn’t take long.
When the night’s scene came into focus, Robby found his suspicions proved correct. It all fell into place slowly; the background blurred and vague— the hospital, maybe— the shadow of his bike, a figure perched on it. He dragged his feet forward, they’re so light in his dreams; and the figure becomes clearer. It’s no surprise when Dennis’ features fade into place. There was no one else, no one that Robby spent so much time thinking about. No one else that he saw when he closed his eyes at night.
This is the clearest Dennis had looked in a dream so far. He’s solid this time, unlike the wispiness of his first appearance. He’s directly in front of Robby too, not above him with damp skin and flushed features. Here, Robby could see almost every detail. The scar on the bridge of his nose, the gap in his teeth when those pretty lips curve into a gentle smile. The light spattering of freckles across his cheeks.
“Robby,” he greeted, and he was so beautiful, the name so natural on his tongue, that Robby would give anything to hear the real Dennis say his name like that. So fond, laced with something so affectionate that Robby is surprised his mind is concocting a situation in which he’d be spoken to like that. Especially from someone like Dennis. As pretty as Dennis.
“Hi,” Robby replied, taking another step forward. Dennis opened his legs, and Robby stepped between them. It was such a natural movement.
It was natural too, when his hands landed on strong thighs. Robby swore he could feel the heat through the blue cotton of Dennis’ jeans. “You been out here for long?”
Dennis shook his head, offering another fond smile. Wordlessly, he slid off the bike and onto his knees. His hands— so skilled, probably calloused from his days working on the farm— came up to the attending’s belt. Robby had the flickering realization in the back of his head that this was exactly where his mind had gone the other night - when he had jerked off to the thought of his resident. He bit his lip with a groan and took a deep breath. He was so, so fucked.
It was a unique feeling of dread that he could inspect another time. He filed it away, along with every other complicated Dennis Whitaker feeling, and let his focus drift back to the scene before him. Dennis had undone his belt and pants and had them pushed down to his mid-thigh. Thick fingers thread through soft blond curls as the younger man nosed and kissed at Robby's dick through his boxers. He can’t feel it, not really, but the sight alone has his systems pushing into overdrive.
“God, you’re so gorgeous,” he muttered, cock swelling to life under pink lips. Dennis only smiled and moved to pull his boxers down too.
They joined Robby’s pants around his thighs as his cock sprung up and tapped against the soft curve of his stomach. “So big,” Dennis said in lieu of a response, staring up at the older man through his lashes. “Want you in my mouth so bad,” he added, curling a fist around Robby’s base. It was so absurd, so cliche of his head to conjure this scenario up, that Robby almost laughed. Almost.
“Yeah? Then take it, baby,” he said instead as he guided his tip down to eagerly parted lips.
A small sound fell from the back of Dennis’ throat as he did as he was told. Again Robby swore he could feel the warm, wet heat of the younger man’s mouth as it wrapped around him. “Shit,” he grunted, dragging Dennis’ head down to the base of his cock. He wasn’t smooth or careful with it, but Dennis hardly reacted to the motion. His eyes flutter, lashes fanning across flushed cheeks, but he didn’t gag. The whole thing made Robby dizzy.
He pulled his hips back after a moment, pushing them forward with a barely restrained thrust. “So fucking pretty on your knees,” he started, repeating the motion. “Think about this all the time. ‘Bout you. ‘Bout that mouth. Wanted this for so long,” he continued. He knew he was rambling, thrusts sloppy and uncoordinated, but he couldn’t stop himself. How could he? This Dennis won’t run away from him, won’t give him a look that makes him regret ever opening his mouth. “Wanted you for so long.”
There were tears in Dennis’ eyes, drool and spit sliding down his chin as Robby’s thrusts grow in intensity. There’s a whole list of words that could be used to describe Dennis in that moment— beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, ravishing— yet none of them seemed adequate. None of them ever would be.
“I’m close, baby,” Robby moaned, that familiar coil forming in the pit of his stomach. “So fucking close,” he repeated, thrusts growing erratic. He was right on the edge, his peak so close and—
Then it was gone, the feeling disappearing just as quickly as it came. Robby’s eyes flutter open and he’s greeted by the sight of his own, gray ceiling. It’s tinted blue with the night, the sun having yet to make her appearance in the early morning sky. He glanced toward the alarm clock: 5:15am. His eyes then fell down his own body, toward the wet patched tent in his boxers. God, he was so fucking hard, and he had time. He wasted none of it, shoving the fabric down and taking himself in hand. He fucked his fist hard and fast. It was riddled with shame and not what he wanted, but it’ll have to do.
It doesn’t take long for that coil to come back, and once again he’s cumming with Dennis Whitaker’s name on his lips.
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The day was a whirlwind, three traumas back to back and an absolutely packed room out in chairs. It was the first freezing day of the year and the roads were slicked with ice. They’d been stuck with this patient for the last ten minutes, falling in and out of having a steady pulse.
“Dr. King, another unit.” Robby was hunched over the patient staring at the beeping monitor, “BP is dropping.”
Mel moved quickly, standing beside the gurney and squeezing the blood bag through the tube. She pursed her lips together and shook her head, “Dr. Robby...”
He ignored her completely. The man had rolled his truck on an icy overpass, massive internal injuries, a whole lot of blood loss, and a heart that decided it was done. Every time they got him back, he slipped away again. He watched Dennis closely, his compressions looked sloppy. He was known for great compressions, even if he was overcommitted to them sometimes. Robby furrowed his eyebrows, “Whitaker, you’re off-center.” He snapped.
“S-Sorry, Dr. Robby.” Dennis stammered as he rolled his shoulders back and resumed compressions properly.
Robby held a hand up, “Hold compressions.” Dennis lifted his hands and stared wide eyed at the monitor. The long beep of a flatline rang out. Robby huffed, “Asystole. Resume compressions. Dr. Mckay, push epi.”
“Fuck.” Dennis muttered under his breath. His hands stayed crossed together, flat on the man’s chest. He looked distracted, and fuck despite all of Robby’s thoughts about the younger man lately— this was life or death.
“Dr. Whitaker, do you need Dr. King to take over?” Robby said through his teeth, his eyebrows knit together and eyes narrowed as he looked at the younger man.
Dennis breathed out shakily, “I’m sorry, shit, I—”
Robby stepped over and nudged him out of the way, “Fuck it, I’ve got it,” he hissed.He rarely snapped at Dennis but he was starting to lose hope here. The blond stumbled back and in the back of Robby’s mind he got a sharp pang of guilt, Dennis was a great doctor and… no. No time to think about that.
Mckay spoke up, “We’ve got a pulse!” Her fingers pressed against the man’s neck and the screen showed a sudden peak in blood pressure. She glanced behind her at the monitor, “Pressures coming up.”
Robby exhaled a sharp breath, “Alright. Good, good. Dr. King call surgery, he’s going up. He’s not dead yet.” He held up two thumbs and stepped back. He stripped his gloves from his hands and tossed them into the bin. A shaky hand ran through his hair and he sighed as the gurney was wheeled out of the room. He turned back toward the group, “Good job everyone, that was tough.” They all acknowledged him with a nod or a thumbs up and started to exit the room. He stopped Dennis with a firm hand on his shoulder, “Dr. Whitaker, I need to borrow you.” It wasn’t a question. He guided the younger man out and down the hall toward the family room.
He held the door open and Dennis walked in with his head hung low. He slumped down into a chair and tapped his fist anxiously against his thigh, “Dr. Robby, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to get distracted. Shit, I never get distracted like that. It’s just—”
“Stop.” Robby dragged both his hands over his face and shook his head. It felt weird to be standing up with the blond sitting down, but he stayed planted where he was, “just stop.”
“Okay.” Dennis murmured and stared at the ground.
Robby puffed his cheeks out, “What’s going on with you? You’re never sloppy like that. If there’s something going on, you need to tell me. Preferably before I drag you into a trauma like that, kid.” He said, his voice firm but exasperated from the compressions.
Wide blue eyes stared up at him, darting between the floor and Robby’s face. Dennis’ lips pressed into a flat line and he huffed, “You’re gonna laugh.” He shook his head.
“Do I look like I’m laughing?”
Dennis hunched forward, holding his chin in his palm. He finally kept eye contact with Robby and quietly said, “I’ve been having these dreams.”
Oh.
What?
“Dreams…” Robby swore his ears started to ring. His brain replayed everything from the past week all at once.
Found you
Robby— hnngh, please don’t stop.
Want you in my mouth so bad.
“Yeah. Dreams, um…about you.” Dennis said, “I don’t know, just within the last week. Almost every night you’re in my dream, even if it has nothing to do with you— you’re just there.” He shrugged, and he looked almost frustrated.
“Me too.” Robby sighed at the admission, “I’ve been having them too.”
Dennis perked up, his back going straight as he looked at Robby with a quirked eyebrow. “Seriously? What are yours like?”
Shit. Robby felt his face flush, a red hot heat rising all the way to the tips of his ears. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants and shook his head quickly, “Just like… work stuff.” It sounded like a lie, and it was a complete fucking lie.
Robby watched the smirk pull at the side of Dennis’ mouth, like the kid could read his mind. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, “Uh huh…” His expression was a full on amused smile now.
“We don’t need to talk about that.” Robby waved his hand and took a step forward. “But, it’s been hard for me to be around you too, I’ve uh…been ignoring you a bit more than I’d like.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I’m sorry.” Robby replied sheepishly.
Dennis stood up from the chair, “Trinity is out of town.” He looked toward the door of the family room. “She’s back on Monday, some family thing out of state.”
Robby was nothing if not oblivious, he sputtered out a breathy, “O-Okay?”
“So you could come over tonight.” Dennis said casually, turning his attention back to Robby.
Come over. Go to Dennis’ house. Where his bed was. Oh shit.
Robby felt like a teenager who was just asked to hold hands at the bus stop. He didn’t think, just nodded quickly. “Yeah, yes. Okay.” This kid was killing him, and he probably knew it too. Robby didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Dennis smoothed out his scrubs and walked toward the door. He put a hand on the handle and gave Robby another look. “You know where to go.” He said with a smile.
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It was weird to be inside of Dennis and Trinity’s apartment, it was very lived in. Sure, that was the term he’d use. Their fridge was littered with sticky notes and ridiculous magnets, there were clothes thrown over the back of the couch, and only two lamps lit the main room. Robby felt out of place as he stood in the entryway, he hung up his coat and toed off his shoes as Dennis rambled apologies for the clutter, “I let it get a little out of hand when she’s away and then I stress clean the entire place like an hour before she gets home.”
He looked over his shoulder and gave Robby a bashful smile, “I’m nervous.”
Robby outright laughed and stepped forward until he was maybe two feet in front of Dennis. “Can you tell me some more about the dreams you’ve had?”
“Oh, Robby, uh… I really don’t think I should.”
“But you’re going to.” Robby shrugged. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he was trying not to feel giddy over it. The light in the room made Dennis look similar to how he looked in the ambulance bay, an orange hue highlighting his flushed features. His confidence from earlier had definitely faltered and Robby couldn’t let him keep getting away with that look in his eyes. “Come on. Speak.”
Dennis swallowed so hard it made a sound in the back of his throat. He stared down at the ground, his fist starting to rap lightly against his leg again. Robby’s hand dropped down to take hold of his wrist, the other found his hip and felt up his side underneath his shirt. He finally got to feel the soft skin that he so desperately craved. His head dipped down, lips mouthing along the shell of Dennis’ ear, “Did you not hear me?”
“I heard you, sir.” Dennis’ head tilted to the side to grant Robby further access.
Robby liked that. He liked sir. His lips kissed down Dennis’ neck while his hand stayed feeling up and down his side. He heard Dennis suck in a sharp breath, and Robby could tell he was holding back. He’d make sure that stopped.
“I was um,” Dennis started, “I was riding your face.” He finally said.
Robby froze, squeezing Dennis’ waist. That had to just be a coincidence; there was no way they were having the same dreams. He nodded for Dennis to continue while his kisses trailed further down. Robby tugged the collar of his shirt to the side to nip gently at his shoulder.
Dennis’ breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed, “It was like I could feel it. Could feel your tongue inside me. Mm, your mouth felt so good.” He whimpered as Robby’s tongue dragged up his neck to behind his ear, “You let me use just your face however I needed.”
“You like that, hm?” Robby said against his skin.
“Yes.” Dennis said through a ragged breath, “Yes, sir, I do.”
Robby’s hands found their way down to Dennis’ ass to grasp at plush skin through his sweatpants and Dennis let out a soft yelp of surprise. He started to back the younger man up. His face stayed tucked into his neck with lazy kisses continuing up and down his skin. He finally pulled back and kissed the tip of Dennis’ nose.
Again, like Dennis could read his mind, he spoke, “My room is on the left.” He vaguely pointed behind him to the short hallway with three doors. Robby assumed there was his bedroom, Trinity’s, and a bathroom that he’d one hundred percent be snooping around when he got the chance. He kissed Dennis properly now, he didn’t care if it was cliche for him to kiss the younger man all the way to his room. It wasn’t graceful, they bumped a couple walls before stumbling onto the bed.
Dennis fell onto his back, curls splayed so beautifully on the sheets. Robby grabbed his legs and pulled him down toward the end of the bed. He dropped to his knees (against his body’s wishes) and kissed up Dennis’ clothed thigh toward the warmth between his legs.
“Mm-mm,” Dennis’ hands pushing into the older man’s hair, “Next time.”
Robby huffed in mock annoyance, but couldn’t push down the excitement of an implied next time. He climbed back up Dennis’ body to hover over him, “You’re everything I want. All I fucking think about.” He said before kissing him again, his hands flat on either side of Dennis’ head. His tongue slipped past the seam of his lips and licked across the underside of his teeth, he attempted to pull back but Dennis’ hands flew to the back of his head and pulled him right back down.
He made the prettiest sounds, better than anything Robby’s brain had ever conjured up and he hadn’t thought that was possible. Dennis was so perfect in his dreams, but this, the Dennis beneath him was so much better. He managed to push his hand down the length of Dennis’ body, sliding it past the waistband of his sweats.
“Kid.” Robby groaned into his mouth when his fingers were met with the feeling of a patch of curls rather than the fabric of underwear.
Dennis hummed as his hands dragged down Robby’s back. They fell to the side as the older man stood back up, “Everything off. Turn around.” He scrambled up onto his knees, haphazardly tugging his clothes off and throwing them all to be forgotten on the floor. Robby followed suit, but his eyes never left Dennis. He was achingly hard, his cock gave an interested twitch with every movement Dennis made.
Dennis’ back was to him, sitting so pretty on his knees at the edge of the bed. Robby moved behind him, his chest pressed against him. His hands smoothed down Dennis’ sides, one finally slid down between his legs. His middle and ring finger felt through wet folds; he groaned right into Dennis’ ear.
“God, yes.” Dennis gasped, his head falling back against Robby’s shoulder. He turned his head, mouthing at Robby’s cheek until he turned toward him and their lips met sloppily. Robby’s fingers pinched his dick before rubbing it between the two digits, Dennis keened forward with a whine but Robby pulled him back with an arm crossed over his chest.
“So worked up,” Robby breathed out.
“Please put them inside me, please, sir.” Dennis begged as his hips desperately twitched forward against the slow movements of Robby’s fingers. He didn’t waste a second, he kept Dennis tight against him as his fingers dipped down to his entrance and pushed inside. The blond’s head knocked back again, his legs already trembling as Robby pumped them in and out.
“R-Robby—” Dennis panted, “I can…I— This morning…”
Yeah. Dennis had to be trying to kill him. The visual of him waking up, flustered and wet enough to give in and touch himself before a shift had Robby quickly removing those fingers and stepping back, “Lube?”
Dennis sat back onto his knees to give his back a break and pointed at his bedside drawer, “In there.” He was almost shaking with anticipation.
Robby pulled out the drawer and grabbed the small bottle. He turned back toward Dennis as he popped the cap open and squeezed some into the palm of his hand. His hand finally wrapped around his cock and lathered the cold gel onto his shaft and he grunted at the friction. He came back to press himself against Dennis, who parted his legs further without even being asked. Robby’s arm looped back around to cross over the younger man’s chest, his hand still wrapped around his cock as he guided it into Dennis’ entrance. A noise he’d never heard himself make rose up from his throat as the wet heat enveloped his cock.
“Oh my fuck,” Dennis said through a moan, “Dreamt about this, fuck, Robby.”
Robby couldn’t wait any longer. His free arm came up under Dennis’ pit and joined the other one. He kept Dennis trapped against his chest as he snapped his hips forward. The whine it pulled out of the blond definitely signaled that he was okay with the rough pace Robby was already setting. Dennis’ hands rushed up behind him to hold Robby’s face, “Ohgodohgodohgod,” He said under his breath as Robby’s cock pounded into him.
The position didn’t last long, as much as Robby enjoyed it; he needed a better angle. His hands dropped to Dennis’ hips and pushed him down so he was ass up. One hand felt up his back until it met those pretty curls at the nape of his neck and tugged hard. “Have I ever told you how crazy these curls drive me?” He grunted as he resumed his deep thrusts.
“N-No— Oh god, fuck me.”
“I am, baby.” He smirked. He kept Dennis’ head pulled back, the loud sounds of skin hitting skin echoed through the room as well as their own noises. Dennis was loud and Robby loved every single moan and whine that left him. “Jesus Christ, Dennis, perfect fucking pussy. Just made for me, aren’t you?” He praised as his fingers dug harder into his hip.
“Mhmm,” Dennis’ body threatened to collapse as he got closer to his peak. He was a mess, whimpers of Robby’s name slipping out over and over. “Robby, so close, p-please don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“Not stopping, never gonna stop, baby.” Robby breathed out as he leaned forward to put his weight against Dennis’ back. The hand in his hair came around to press against his neck, not too hard but just enough to make him lose a bit of air.
“Hah— Fuck!” Dennis’ walls clenched down around Robby’s cock, squeezing tight and making it almost hard to move. He cried out another loud moan, “Robby!”
“That’s it, baby. Give it to me, come on.” Robby’s teeth sank into his shoulder, “Never fucked you in my dreams, knew I just needed the real thing.”
Dennis’ orgasm crashed into him, strings of the most beautiful sounds and barely comprehensible words left those pretty lips. Robby slowed down as he approached his own climax, grinding himself forward as deep as he could get. “Fuck, Den, baby— I’m gonna— oh shit,” He gave one more hard thrust into Dennis before his cock was twitching and spilling over inside of his warm cunt.
Robby stayed there for a moment as he softened before slowly pulling out and smoothing his hands down Dennis’ body. “You okay?” He asked as he stood back up, even his own legs were shaky. He tumbled down onto the bed beside the younger man.
“Mmmhmm…” Dennis nodded, looking dazed. A loose smile was plastered on his face and his eyes looked too heavy to keep open. He rolled over, burying his face against Robby’s hairy chest. A couple lazy kisses pressed into his skin as Dennis took short breaths.
Robby dropped his head back and pushed his hand back into the soft hair that he loved so much. His fingers gently scratched at Dennis’ scalp.
“Worth it,” Dennis murmured.
“What was?” Robby asked.
Dennis kissed his chest again and lifted his head to rest his chin on Robby’s sternum. He looked up at him, “Waiting around for you, you’re so dense.” He huffed, “I kissed your helmet, Robby, and you didn’t follow me upstairs.”
“Cut me some slack, kid. I couldn’t stop dreaming about you. An old guy like me gets nervous too.” Robby defended.
“Whatever,” Dennis replied sleepily, and ridiculously fond.
Dennis fell asleep first, and Robby laid there watching him for as long as he could keep his eyes open. For once, he wondered if he’d dream of something else or not at all. The real, warm and soft Dennis Whitaker was curled up against his chest, and he couldn’t ask for anything more.