Anthony

dennis doesn’t know when or how that exactly happened since most of his time robby spends either in the hospital or with dennis. he’s never mentioned to dennis about wanting to ‘go into relationship market’ again, and dennis wasn’t really inclined to know if it ever would be a possibility. it’s extremely selfish and unfair of him; he knows that. he’s not the ‘if not me, then no one else’ guy, but thinking that way and having to face it are two different things in the end.

the moment his rotations started, it went without saying that robby would give him a lift to the hospital when they both had shifts and drive him home afterwards. and he always texts dennis when he won’t be able to or is going to be late. dennis’s never batted an eye at any of it because it’s not surprising with the line of work they have; twelve-hour shifts exist only on paper. though sometimes the ‘gonna be late’ is for a night out in a bar with staff or jack to watch a game, and dennis’s never bothered about it either. until during one of the ‘gonna be late’s, dennis is still up and goes to get a drink in the kitchen. he’s cracking a sprite when the front door opens, and a minute later robby walks in, a tad tipsy and with lipstick on his collar. there isn’t much left to say, so dennis doesn’t. they don’t talk about it in the morning.

he starts to notice it afterwards. the hair, the wrinkled clothes, the leftover perfume and cologne. he never brings anyone home, and dennis is grateful for this. he knows that robby knows that he knows, but they haven’t brought it up in the kitchen, and dennis would rather not at all. dennis doesn’t know if he’s more hurt from the fact that robby’s never said anything to him or overwhelmed by the all-consuming jealousy. probably both, though the former would make him a hypocrite.

since the start of med school, he’s slept with guys on the rare outings with his study group, for physiological purposes only. some of them asked for his number or to have a coffee, but dennis declined every time. he also had a thought that maybe a few quick fucks in a club bathroom stall might help get robby out of his system, even a little bit. his hypothesis wasn’t confirmed.

and even though, dennis’s found a benefit in robby’s frequent ‘gonna be late’s. on his first appointment, marie warned him about side effects that testosterone causes, especially the increasing libido. dennis didn’t give it much thought then, reckoning it wouldn’t be much of a problem. oh, boy, how wrong he was.

robby does his shots every saturday morning (which does not help the situation), and closer to the evening and well into the night, he’s feeling like his guts are set on fire. it starts to build up about late noon, and it’s a blessing if he’s off because when it happens on the clock or with a patient, especially elderly, dennis wants to literally die. nurses often ask him if he has a fever because of how red he usually gets during these appointments.

after the shift he returns home already worked up, and on these days when he receives a ‘gonna be late’ from robby, he sprints toward his bedroom. he doesn’t bother taking off his clothes or locking the door, just falls on the bed and puts his hand down his pants. it’s the first relief he’s had all day.

the first one is quick. he barely manages to touch his clit, and he’s already coming, his insides squeezing around nothing. he’s teasing himself for the second one, slowly tugging his pants down and throwing them on the floor. he rubs on the wet patch between his legs, and it makes his hips lift up instinctively. he presses on his swollen, protruding dick through the underwear, and electricity zips from his brain to his toes. with his right hand he trails a path up his body over his shirt and halts near his mouth. he takes two fingers inside and sucks on them with such diligence that saliva is drooling from the corner of his mouth, and his boxers become even wetter.

he tugs the elastic band down, shedding the briefs to his knees. he takes out his fingers, blows on them slightly and presses them to his clit. his spine arches from the bed, and he moans in a full voice. he spreads his folds carefully, letting his wetness leak onto the sheets. he circles the entrance, not pushing inside, not yet, and the heat collected between his legs makes his toes curl and drip on his fingers even more.

when the first knuckle is in, his breath hitches and his eyes roll inside his head. he moves slowly in and out, deeper each time, until his palm is pressed over his dick, and pushes on the front wall. there are sparks blowing behind his closed eyes. he pulls the finger out and slides back two, curving them inside. his thighs start to tremble. he spreads them and starts thrusting at a faster pace. he feels the orgasm building up, and when he’s almost there, he squeezes his left hand around his throat. in his mind, it’s uncle robby who wraps his big and steady hand around his throat. the orgasm rips through him so hard he thinks he blacks out for a second.

he manages to come two more times that night. his sheets are wet from sweat and cum, and his pillow has a spit stain from where he bit on it, trying to muffle uncle robby’s name coming out of his mouth amid the moans. his eyelids are falling shut as his body’s still shaking through the aftershocks, and he just throws a dry part of the comforter over his lap and flakes out.

it quickly becomes a habit: to wait for robby’s message and wring out of himself as many orgasms as possible until he falls asleep with uncle robby’s name on his lips. closer to the end, he’s not in his mind anymore; he’s floating, engrossed in the fantasies of uncle robby’s hands on his body, squeezing and leaving bruises; of uncle robby’s mouth trailing over his skin, licking and kissing and biting; of uncle robby’s tongue lapping at his folds and sucking on his clit and thrusting inside of him; of uncle robby’s cock pushing in, bottoming out and filling him to the brim with his hot white cum. he’s floating, and he doesn’t hear the front door open downstairs. he’s floating, and he doesn’t hear steps slowing by his door. he’s floating, and he’s coming with a needy and loud uncle robby in the silence of his room, and he doesn’t hear the breathing hitch behind his door.

the next morning, dennis comes down the stairs, well-rested and satisfied, and sees robby already up, unusual for a day off, pouring himself some coffee.

“morning, uncle robby,” dennis says, reaching for a cup on the rack.

robby literally jumps, spilling the hot liquid all over his hand, and almost drops his mug.

“fuck!” he places the mug and pot on the counter and turns the faucet on cold, putting his burnt hand under the spray.

“oh my god!” dennis rushes to the first aid kit they keep in one of the drawers. “i’m so sorry, uncle robby. i thought you heard me. i didn’t want to startle you. i—”

“dennis, calm down.” he turns his head, and dennis sees bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept at all. he squeezes the kit in his hands, brows furrowing, and robby’s mouth twitches at an attempt to smile reassuringly, his hand still under the running water. “i’m fine, zoned out a little bit, that’s all. it’s nothing, just a small burn.”

“it’s a burn, not nothing.” he puts the box on the counter and pops off the lid. “let me see.”

“dennis, i’m okay. i’ve burnt a million times, and in case you’ve forgotten i’m still a doctor—”

“robby. give me your damn hand. now.”

he turns off the faucet and, begrudgingly, extends his hand for dennis to examine. his touches are careful and light as his eyes run over the back of robby’s hand.

“so, what’s the diagnosis, doctor?” he tilts his head, a bit amused. “am i gonna live?”

“you are.” dennis meets his eyes and adds with a completely straight face, “barely.”

robby chuckles, shaking his head, and watches dennis take out a burn cream and gauze. “then i’m lucky i have such a skilful physician.”

dennis raises his eyebrow at him as he’s applying the cream. robby hisses quietly. “flattery will get you everywhere. you should run with it if you end up in the pitt. i’ve heard there’s a doctor who’ll give you total vip treatment for just a compliment.”

“oh, does he really?”

they continue that aimless banter as dennis makes a new pot and pancakes, and robby just sits by the counter, the accident long forgotten.

christmas is coming, and this is the last week of his rotation in neuro, which is less exciting than peds but far better than the previous two. he’d tried to find the spark again, but it turned out he didn’t need to. it’s his attending, dr yoon, that has made this rotation worthwhile.

on the first shift, she shocked him diving headfirst into the process without much introduction. she gave them free rein but remained a solid presence behind their shoulders. when they made mistakes, she didn’t scold them or blame it on the first day; she told them they’d fucked up and left them to figure out the rest. later, after she heard their explanations. she said that they’d fucked up anyway and to not do that again. her teaching approach was quite… unorthodox, to say the least, and not something dennis was used to, but it was just the first day, and he was still yet to make his opinions. and now, looking back, dennis can say it worked out pretty well.

at the end of his shift, dennis approached her, a bit cautiously, to ask about research she’d mentioned briefly. she squinted her eyes at him and said that sucking up to her wouldn’t give him any extra credit. dennis responded that it wasn’t his intention and he was genuinely interested. she squinted again and hummed. she told him to write down his email so she could send him a link.

after that, she kept sending him different materials, from articles in science journals to youtube videos, and they discussed them between patients. she didn’t make a big deal out of it, thankfully, and treated him like the others, though dennis is sure that the number of people in the department dr yoon sends medical sources off-time can be counted with one hand. he told robby about it, and even he was surprised, and he’s known dr yoon for over fifteen years.

his last day in neuro is on friday, and dr yoon offered the staff to celebrate the end of students’ rotation and the beginning of the holidays at a bar after the shift, and dennis didn’t second guess and agreed immediately. the only downside of his plan to relax in the good company is marc. as in marc, the intern who has been flirting with him since dennis stepped foot on the floor, the one who brought dennis coffee because ‘they mixed up his order’ or tagged along during lunch. he didn’t make dennis uncomfortable with his comments or interfere with his work or touch him inappropriately. he was just… intense, and dennis isn’t used to someone showing their interest in him so openly and directly.

he takes his time to get ready and emerges from his room in a navy blue shirt, the first two buttons open, and high-waisted black slacks with a silver chain clipped on the belt hoops. he hasn’t cut his hair in a while, so now his curls are reaching his brows and curving slightly at the neck. he decided to add a bit of eyeliner in the corners and a pinch of glitter on his cheekbones. he looks himself over in the hall mirror and hears his roommate’s voice inside his head say that he’s fab as fuck.

he’s coming down the stairs when he spots robby on the couch, book in hand and reading glasses on the nose.

these fucking glasses

before uncle robby, dennis’s never thought that you could look that hot because of the damn reading glasses. the first time he saw uncle robby in them, concentrated, with greys in his beard, looking at him over the rim with his deep brown eyes, dennis thought he would die on the spot. he didn’t get used to it after all this time and doesn’t think he ever will. the image of uncle robby in his warm brown sweater with a bit ruffled hair and black-rimmed round glasses perched on his crooked nose, he files it away in his mind. he will put it to good use tomorrow.

uncle robby looks up at the sound of his steps and visibly freezes when his eyes land on dennis. they go over his body slowly, taking in every detail and stopping on dennis’s exposed neck, and flash with something dennis’s never seen before but is very familiar with. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. uncle robby looks hungry, and dennis’s brain short-circuits for a second.

he snaps his eyes back to the book, and maybe it’s the lights, but there’s some redness tinged on his cheekbones.

“have plans for tonight?” he sounds ostentatiously casual and uninterested.

i didn’t imagine it, right? i’m completely sober.

“y-yeah, em…” he clears his throat, trying to gather his thoughts. “the staff from neuro are going out for a few drinks tonight.”

uncle robby hums, still staring at his book; he hasn’t turned a page in a few minutes. “have fun and stay safe. text me if you need a ride home.”

“sure.” dennis shrugs on his coat and shoots one more glance at the back of uncle robby’s head.

on his walk to the bar, he can’t get out of his mind the way uncle robby looked at him. the way dennis dreamt about so many times. like he wanted to eat him alive.

i didn’t imagine that.

most of the staff are already here, and dennis goes to the bar to get himself a beer. he’s chatting with a few nurses when dr yoon stops next to him and sits down on the stool. he was going to thank her for the guidance and everything she shared with him when she says,

“it’s not for you.”

he startles, mouth gaping. “what?”

“hearing problems? at this age?”

“no, i—why?”

she turns to him, placing her cocktail on the counter. she’s looking at him scrutinisingly, her lips pursed.

“you are a good student, dennis. industrious and know your limits, eager for knowledge but not maniacally, and able to accept when you’re wrong. you will do well in your future rotations, but neuro is not for you.”

“how do you know?”

she shrugs. “i just do. and you will too. you will know it’s yours, maybe not immediately, but it will feel right. and that’s how you know.”

“and if i don’t? if nothing clicks?”

“choose the one that annoys you the least.” dennis chuckles quietly. yeah, dr yoon is definitely the spark. “if you decide to anyway, you have my email.” she rises from her seat and extends her hand to him. “it was a pleasure to work with you, dennis.”

“likewise.”

afterwards, he goes to dance a little bit and take a piss, and when he sits down on his stool, marc appears beside him, taking dr yoon’s place.

“how’s your night going?”

“good, having fun.” dennis gestures to a bartender for a refill.

“i—dennis, i wanted to say that i’m sorry.” marc looks nervous, smiling shyly but earnestly. not like the marc dennis is used to see. “for coming on at you so much and overstepping at times. i… i really like you, and i thought that maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?”

marc is looking at him openly and smiling broadly, waiting for an answer, and dennis doesn’t feel anything. god, why doesn’t he feel anything? there’s marc in front of him who is smart and funny and good-looking and who told him that he likes him, so why can’t dennis feel anything?

he’s not uncle robby, his brain suggests.

the memory flashes in his mind, uncle robby’s eyes roaming over his body, his pupils dilating, the bobble of his throat.

i didn’t imagine it.

“marc, i… i really appreciate it, truly, but there’s someone, and i—”

“oh, no worries.” he’s shaking his head, smiling, but it’s different now, artificial. “it’s okay. i should’ve asked and—i’ll go now. i—”

he disappears in the crowd, not looking back. someone clears their throat behind dennis.

“your beer, man.”

he looks at the glass, at the bartender. he remembers brown irises lighting up.

i didn’t imagine it.

“sorry, but… i gotta go.”

he leaves a few notes on the counter, grabs his coat and rushes out, calling a lyft. all the way home he’s turning the memory in his head, thinking, what if he was wrong? what if it was the lights? what if all his fantasies and dreams made him hallucinate? what if it was just wishful thinking, and he’s going to make a fool of himself and destroy the most precious thing in his life because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. because he couldn’t stop his heart wanting.

he opens the door swiftly and hears a match on the tv. he toes his shoes and throws his coat on the rack and dashes to the living room. uncle robby’s still on the couch with a beer in his hand, trying to pay attention to the screen. he turns his head at dennis, taking in his fast breathing and wide eyes, and, immediately, there’s worry on his face.

“are you drunk? high?” uncle robby asks, putting the bottle on the coffee table.

“no, are you?” dennis shoots back, slowly coming closer.

“no. just started the second. why—”

“then we both can’t deny this.” he puts his knees on both sides of uncle robby’s thighs, straddling his lap, takes his face into his hands and, without second thought, presses their lips together.

finally, crosses his mind, and he feels his body become lighter. there’s no fireworks going off, but he feels the proverbial weight he’s been carrying for all these years finally lift up. and that’s when it catches up to him that uncle robby’s not kissing him back.

no, no, no, please. it can’t be a mistake. it can’t. i didn’t imagine. i didn’t.

dennis starts pulling away, his heart shuddering against his ribs. he doesn’t want to open his eyes and see uncle robby’s face, disappointed, angry, disgusted, resentful. he doesn’t—

there’s a grip on his waist and hand on his nape that yanks him back, and dennis feels uncle robby’s mouth on his, nipping at his lips and licking inside of his mouth. dennis feels uncle robby’s tongue against his, and now there are fireworks.

dennis finally lets his hands wander: from uncle robby’s thick neck to his broad shoulders and bulky arms with inked latin underneath, down his chest that dennis knows is covered in hair and to his soft belly that dennis’s been drooling over from the moment he saw it. when his fingers touch the band of uncle robby’s sweatpants, the grip tightens and makes dennis drip into his boxers. he rocks his hips forward, feeling uncle robby’s cock straining against the fabric, and moans into his mouth.

“fuck, mouse,” uncle robby gasps, lips trailing over dennis’s jaw and down the column of his neck, sucking on the spot under his ear, beard scratching on the soft hot skin. his teeth scrape over dennis’s lobe, and dennis whines.

“please… please i need…”

“what do you need, mouse?” uncle robby murmurs into his clavicle.

“you. i need you, i—”

“mouse—”

“no.” dennis takes uncle robby’s face back in his hands and looks in his eyes, almost black from blown pupils. “i don’t want to hear anything. i’ve wanted this for years, and now i need you to fuck me until i forget my name.”

“jesus,” he breathes out, shaking his head slightly. he’s staring at dennis, and dennis sees the fight happening inside him. he closes his eyes for a moment and heaves out. when they’re open, there’s a decision made. “okay, up. my back’s too old for sex on a couch.”

dennis chuckles and kisses him again. they get up, and dennis threads their fingers as uncle robby leads them up the stairs. he can’t believe this is happening.

it’s the second time he’s seeing uncle robby’s bedroom, but he doesn’t have time to look around again because the moment the door closes, uncle robby’s kissing him, gripping his waist and backing him towards the bed slowly. they stop when dennis’s legs hit the edge, and dennis thinks that he will push him down, but he brings his hands to dennis’s face, caressing the cheeks with his thumbs, his lips slowing. he pulls away a little, and dennis feels his fingers on the collar.

“can i take this off?” dennis frowns and— oh. if he thought he couldn’t love uncle robby more, god, was he wrong. because it’s uncle robby, kind and attentive and careful, and of course his first priority is to make sure that dennis feels comfortable.

“y-yeah, it’s okay.”

he takes his time undoing dennis’s shirt, leaving a small kiss on his collarbone for each button. he drops it on the floor, and dennis stands in front of him, black binder covering his chest, and uncle robby looks at him the same, like dennis is the most beautiful thing in the world.

he lifts on his tiptoes and captures uncle robby’s mouth, sensually, gratefully. he grips the hem of the sweater in a silent question, and uncle robby’s already raising his arms, helping dennis to take it off.

he’s already seen uncle robby without a shirt, plenty of times, but that’s… wow. he’s broad and brawny after the years of lifting gurneys almost every day; his torso is covered in dark brown hair with flecks of grey that make dennis’s mouth water.

he kisses each letter on his biceps and moves to the pectorals, circling the nipples with his tongue and nibbling lightly; uncle robby’s breath hitches over his head. he takes uncle robby’s magen david in his mouth and tugs at it playfully before slowly sinking to his knees to pay proper attention to uncle robby’s belly. he places a kiss on the navel and feels a hand on his shoulder. he lifts his eyes and meets the brown ones, staring at him, unmoving. he places one more kiss, not averting his gaze, and takes skin under the bellybutton in his mouth, sucking earnestly.

“fuck.” dennis feels a twitch over his neck.

he sits down on his heels so he’s right in front of uncle robby’s crotch, and even through the layers of clothes, it’s visible how big he is. he unties the strings, hooks his fingers on the waistband and tugs it all the way down to the ankles. uncle robby steps out of them, shoving towards the discarded sweater, and now he’s just in his underwear, and dennis feels like he might pass out. he leans in and closes his lips around the tip, saliva dripping from the corners as he mouths down the clothed shaft and licks the fabric over the balls. dennis hears a deep groan, and then there’s a grip on his nape, pulling him away.

“mouse,” uncle robby heaves, his face flushed and breathing uneven. “you need to slow down or i won’t last long.” his thumb moves to caress dennis’s cheek again. “lay down, please, let me take care of you.”

dennis rises slowly, feeling small cramps in his legs, and reaches for the zipper, but a big hand wraps around both of his wrists, and that gesture only sends a wave of heat to his lower stomach.

“ah-ah-ah,” uncle robby tuts, letting his hand go. “leave it for me.”

he presses on dennis’s shoulders gently, making him lie down and scoot up a little bit, and leans over, propped on his knee, his fingers hovering over dennis’s groin. his eyes find dennis’s

“one word, and i’ll stop, okay?”

dennis huffs impatiently. “it’s not my first time, you know? i’ve had pretty much sex, so you don’t need to treat me like i’m made of glass.”

something dark flashes in his irises, and a muscle on his jaw twitches. “i will take as much time as i need, or you don’t want me to make you forget your name anymore?”

he gasps almost inaudibly, but uncle robby catches it anyway and smirks at him. he tugs the zipper down, pops the button open and hooks his fingers on the waistband, nodding dennis to lift his hips. the pants are on the floor with their socks, and uncle robby’s gaze won’t stop roaming over his body. dennis feels his skin burn under it and tries to close his legs, but uncle robby catches his shins and positions himself between them.

“you’re gorgeous, mouse,” he says straight to dennis’s eyes and places a kiss on his knee. “handsome.” kiss. “stunning.” on the other one. “beautiful.” one more. “the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.”

dennis gasps quietly as uncle robby starts trailing his lips down dennis’s inner thighs, beard scratching on the soft and delicate skin, and chokes on the air when he presses his nose against the wet patch on dennis’s boxers, breathing in deeply.

“fuck. you smell so good, mouse. bet you test even better.” he nuzzles into the fabric, and dennis moans, lifting his hips and bracketing uncle robby’s head between his legs.

uncle robby’s huffs a little laugh and licks over his entrance and up to his protruding dick and sucks, his eyes watching dennis’s face, and when dennis looks down to see uncle robby already staring, his spine arches and a pained sob escapes his lips.

“please… please. off, take them off.”

uncle robby obliges, pulling the briefs down and throwing them to the pile on the floor. he spreads dennis’s folds, watching the wetness drip on the sheets, and keens at the sight. he leans in and makes a tentative lick just above the entrance, and dennis feels electricity zip through his body.

“god!” uncle robby’s lapping like a starving man at his folds and around his entrance, not pushing in and deliberately avoiding touching his clit, and dennis whines embarrassingly loud, his voice quivering, “please! please, uncle robby—”

oh, no

dennis slaps his hand over his mouth and feels uncle robby halt between his legs.

“i—i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. i—forget it, please—”

“shh.” he rises on his arms and leans over dennis, capturing him on every side. his expression is calm and pensive as his eyes roam over dennis’s face. he raises his hand and caresses dennis’s cheek with his thumb again. “mouse, my sweet little mouse. you want your uncle to make you feel good? you want your uncle to take care of you? to make you forget your own name? you could’ve just asked. ask me now, mouse.”

dennis hesitates, but uncle robby’s eyes never leave his, staring, it feels like, into the deep of his soul, waiting for dennis to give in.

and he does. “please… make me feel good, please…”

“please, who?”

a whimper escapes dennis’s lips. “uncle robby, please, uncle robby—”

uncle robby smirks at him smugly and pets him on the cheek. “good boy.”

before dennis can process it, uncle robby dives back between his legs and closes his lips around his exposed dick and sucks hard, scraping his teeth on the tip, and something taut inside him snaps, and he’s coming, his thighs trembling around uncle robby’s head and his fingers gripping the sheets.

he’s still shaking, mouth gaping for the air, when he feels a tongue pushing its way inside him, and dennis whines from oversensitivity, bucking his hips up, but a hand presses over his pelvis and pins him down on the mattress. dennis’s breath hitches at fingers prodding at his entrance, nails catching on the sensitive skin, and he moans when they replace the tongue and uncle robby’s mouth is back on his clit, suckling like it’s the sweetest candy he’s ever tasted. he’s thrusting his fingers at a measured pace, spreading dennis’s walls and pressing at the spot that makes him see stars.

when dennis’s starting to feel another orgasm building up, uncle robby pulls away, leaving his dick glistening from the spit and his entrance squeezing around nothing, and dennis can’t hold back a whimper when everything aches.

“uncle robby, please…”

“patience, mouse.” he rummages through his nightstand. “fuck, i don’t have condoms.”

“fuck condoms, i need you inside me yesterday, and i don’t fucking care now.”

“mouse—”

“i’m clean, i swear, and i’m sure you are too, so stop talking and put your dick inside me.”

uncle robby grabs his face with his hands and presses their lips together, pushing his tongue inside dennis’s mouth, and dennis feels the musky and salty taste of himself on uncle robby’s lips, and it makes him shiver, sending goosebumps down his body.

“bossy, huh?”

“stop talking.”

uncle robby snickers, throwing dennis’s legs over his hips. “didn’t know you were such a brat during sex.” he realigns himself against dennis’s entrance and grips dennis’s hip for purchase. “you were so sweet and obedient just a moment ago, begging for—”

“oh, for fuck’s sake, can you already—ah!”

“jesus, you’re tight.” he sinks a little more and hears a quiet whimper escape dennis’s lips, his eyes rolling back. “ha, i found the switch, apparently.”

uncle robby starts sliding in, deeper each time until he’s fully bottomed out and halts, taking in dennis’s trembling limbs and slightly parted lips. his eyes are hooded, locked on uncle robby’s face.

“can i—”

“please.”

he pulls out completely and pushes inside to the root of his cock, and dennis feels like he was split in half. he’s thrusting at a slow and steady pace, always to the brim, his balls slapping against dennis’s ass, but it’s not enough.

“faster, please.”

“please, who.”

“uncle robby! please, faster!”

and he does, slamming their hips against each other at every thrust, leaving dennis nothing but to sob incoherently into the pillow by his head, his sounds muffling against the fabric.

“ah-ah-ah, mouse, don’t shy away.” he turns dennis’s face and leans down, just an inch above. his magen david hitting dennis’s chin at every thrust. “you’re always so vocal, so loud. not caring if someone will hear, yeah? not caring to even lock the door.” his eyes fly open, and he gasps, his grip on the sheets tightening. “oh, yeah, i heard you. moaning my name and fucking yourself with your pretty little fingers. you imagined they were mine, right? or that it was my cock, fucking your tight hole?”

jesus fucking christ.

“uncle robby, i—i’m gonna come, i—”

“then come, mouse,” he whispers into dennis’s ear. “come for me, come on your uncle’s cock.”

dennis sees a fucking galaxy behind his eyes. he doesn’t remember the last time he came like this, if ever, and he swears he felt his soul leaving his body for a second.

through the aftershocks, his brain registers uncle robby’s dick still jamming into him, and dennis squeezes around him, unclenching his fingers and bringing them to uncle robby’s shoulders. he hears a low groan escape his throat, and his rhythm’s becoming uneven, his arms shaking slightly.

“i need to pull out, mouse, or i’m gonna come.”

dennis’s nails dig deeper into his shoulders and make uncle robby hiss. he crosses his ankles behind uncle robby’s back, pressing them even closer. “no.”

“mouse, you’re—”

“i don’t care. i’ll deal with it in the morning.” this time, dennis is the one leaning to the ear. “that night, i was thinking about you. pounding me into the mattress and filling me with your cum until it starts to drip on the bed.” his hips sway, and he sucks in a breath at dennis’s voice. his eyes are closed as if he’s still deciding, and dennis knows how to make him give up. “fill me up, uncle. make me yours.”

dennis feels hot liquid hitting his insides and uncle robby’s weight over him, pinning him down. he hasn’t pulled out yet, breathing heavily near dennis’s head, and dennis feels so full and calm and grounded he could cry if he weren’t so exhausted. uncle robby rolls over, his cock sliding out, and the cum starts leaking out of him with a smacking sound, his entrance contracting around emptiness. dennis can’t find it in himself to care.

uncle robby scoots to the headboard, tugging dennis up, and throws his arm around dennis’s shoulders, tucking dennis’s head against his chest. dennis hugs him around the torso and closes his eyes. the antsy thoughts and trepidation are overflowing his brain, no matter how hard he tries to block them out and just bask in the afterglow of an amazing sex he just had with a person he loves that might call it a big and awful mistake that will never happen again.

uncle robby’s fingers stop combing through his hair and move to the nape of his neck. “mouse? you okay?”

of course, he would notice.

he thinks about lying or deflecting but feels uncle robby’s thumb stroking down his spine so carefully, so calmly. dennis thinks he might cry after all. he decides to be honest.

“what now?” he doesn’t like how his voice sounds; it’s hoarse and wobbling from tears welling up.

the thumb’s still stroking. “sleep; a shower, preferably, and new sheets.”

“no, i mean us.” the thumb halts. dennis lifts up his head and looks uncle robby straight in the eye. he decides to be brave. “after all this, what are we?”

he hesitates before answering, and dennis sees the conflicted but serene expression on his face as he asks, “what do you want us to be?”

seriously?

“you tell me, because i’ve already said i’ve wanted it longer than i can remember, which is kinda embarrassing and maybe creepy, but i don’t care anymore, and i know it’s—”

“mouse, breathe.” the thumb is back on his cheek, and the soft brown eyes are staring into his with so much affection and warmth, dennis thinks he might be drowning. “i think i’ve been in love with you since the moment i saw you on that street, with ruffled hair and red cheeks; grown into the handsome and admirable man you are, and the only thought that crossed my mind at the moment was, ‘i will never let him go,’ so i won’t.”

dennis is crying.

he doesn’t remember when it started, but it doesn’t matter because uncle robby is kissing every tear from his cheek and looks at him like there’s nothing in this world except for dennis, and dennis thinks his heart might burst from all the feelings he has for the man in front of him.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, mouse.”

“you do?”

uncle robby smiles. “every tiny bit”