And Robby always indulged him without complaint. He knew the man liked it, being watched or seen or both. He’d jerked off right next to Dennis enough times either in bed or on his couch for him to know, his voyeurism knowing no bounds and Dennis kinda loved it. It was something he hadn’t expected himself to be into — watching Robby’s large hand wrap around himself, stroking base to tip, watching Dennis watch him. It was filthy, really. It made him hot all over to see it.

But, the pictures. Robby would pull his dick out whenever Dennis wanted him to, hard or soft, and take a picture of it. Dennis didn’t dare save them, knowing Trinity had a habit of borrowing his phone to google random things whenever they were talking or watching tv and she needed to fact check something or wanted to send a photo to herself.

He would never live it down.

So, he’d admire the picture and blush and want and then he’d delete it from their text thread. No harm done.

Robby didn’t even ask for him to reciprocate, but Dennis had a feeling that maybe Robby wished he would.

Which is where he’s at now, in his bed, hard in his boxers, with his conversation with Robby open on his phone just after midnight. There’s a picture of Robby’s heavy cock just sent to him, along with a voice note telling him exactly what Robby wants to do to him tomorrow, and he’s throbbing in his own hand, the tip of his dick sticky with pre.

He decides that tonight he’ll do it. He’ll send Robby a picture.

He keeps the salt lamp he thrifted on, casting a soft orange glow beside him. He’s got himself in his hand, the camera tucked near his chin, angled down, his sleep shirt pulled up.

And he feels stupid.

It doesn’t look good, like Robby’s. Almost comical. Like every other dude on Grindr before he’d deleted the app, a day after he and Robby went on their first real date.

Huffing, he sets his phone down and pulls his shorts up, ready to give up, but it slips from his fingers and the band snaps down, pinning his cock to his lower belly with a soft sound.

It makes him tense and hiss a little in pain and a bit of pleasure, glancing down at himself — and pausing.

Despite his frustration and embarrassment, he kinda likes the way the wet tip of his cock is tucked under the waistband of his boxers, peeking out. It’s not super obvious, more of a tease — and that’s when he picks his phone up again.

He pushes the bottom of his shirt down a little, letting a strip of pale skin of his abdomen show, rubbing a fingertip against the underside of his tip to push a little more pre out before he’s angling his camera.

In the quiet of his room, his camera silently clicks, and then he’s sending it off.

He bites his lip as he waits, his stomach twisting. Will Robby like it? Will he be underwhelmed? Maybe he’ll want more, and that thought is just a little overwhelming but kinda in a good way, makes his stomach twist in arousal—

His phone buzzes, Robby text back.

Dennis’ stomach twists again as he sees the voice note, his thumb hovering over the ‘play’ button for a second before he presses it.

Robby’s voice is low, how it always goes whenever he’s got Dennis in his bed, and he’s a little breathless as he speaks over the sound of what is probably the wet sound of lube on his cock, “Fuck, baby, you’re driving me crazy…” Robby groans softly, “You take that pretty picture just for me, hm? You almost got me licking my phone,” he chuckles quietly, breathless still, although he moans again, “Makes me wanna go over there and pull those shorts down, get my mouth on you and suck that pretty cock until you’re begging me to let you cum down my throat…”

There’s a pause, the wet sound of Robby’s fist speeding up, and Dennis’ mouth is dry.

Robby continues, “Be a good boy and let me hear you cum, yeah? Wanna hear you say my name when you do…” he sighs, like he’s trying to hold off his own pleasure, and then the voice note is over and it makes Dennis squirm.

He’s done it before, many times, but he feels bolder now — with Robby’s enthusiastic response to his picture.

So, he opens his camera again, but puts it from photo to video and presses ‘record’.

He feels his pulse racing in his neck as he records himself, his free hand trailing a fingertip down his chest and stomach, moaning quietly as he thumbs at the wet tip of his dick still peaking out of his shorts, pulling it away just enough for Robby to see the little clear string of pre before he’s rubbing against the slit with another soft sound.

“Wanna cum like this,” he breathes, his eyelids flickering with pleasure as he watches his hand through his camera, his fingers stroking along his shaft over the fabric of the shorts, his thumb still rubbing little circles on the tip, feeling himself getting so worked up already as he quietly whines, “Want your hands on me, wish you were here, want your mouth, sir, please…”

He feels pent up, suddenly. There’s something about the entire thing that’s bringing him to the edge much quicker, like he can’t wait to see Robby’s response to this, making him impatient.

“Fuck, I wanna cum,” he whines, his brows pinching and jaw dropping as he taps at the wet tip with his thumb, so sensitive now, his breath punching out of him at the same time, his body tensing and tensing as he watches himself, feeling his balls draw up as he keens, “Robby, Robby—fuck—”

His hips twitch up as he pulls his hand away, his breath coming out in ragged little pants as he watches himself cum all over his stomach and shirt, his torso quivering as he rides the waves of pleasure washing over him.

And because he knows it drives Robby crazy, and he’s a little high from it all, he lazily draws his fingertips across his belly, through his cum, and offers it to the camera with a quiet almost-giggle before he stops recording. If Robby were here, he’d suck his fingers clean before tonguing over his stomach.

Before he gets too self-conscious, he sends it, biting the inside of his cheek as he clicks his phone shut and waits.

He wipes his mess with his shirt and tosses it in the direction of his laundry basket, knowing he’ll have to do it tomorrow before Trinity gets home.

And then his phone is buzzing again, although this time Robby’s calling him.

His stomach twists as he answers it, holding it up to his ear with a quiet, “Hi…”

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard as I did just now,” Robby hums, his voice tinged with amusement and sleepiness. He always gets tired afterward, something Dennis teases him about sometimes.

The admission makes him smile, though, shyly asking, “Yeah? You liked it?”

“Loved it, actually,” Robby chuckles in disbelief, “Hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t even stand a chance, didn’t get a picture or anything, just…came all over my hand.”

He swears he’s floating from how pleased he is, grinning to himself as he holds his phone to his ear, “I was actually nervous as hell, y’know.”

Robby huffs at that, in fond disbelief, “Fooled me.”

“Yeah, well…you like to make me realize things about myself,” Dennis mutters, his grin softened into a smile.

“Things like you enjoy touching yourself and sending it to me as a video?” Robby chuckles.

“Yeah, ‘cause I know you’re a perverted old man,” Dennis teases, his voice soft, knowing how that affects Robby.

It works like a charm; Robby groans, like he does whenever Dennis cups him through his scrubs after work, and tells him, “Enough, this old man is spent. Tell me goodnight.”

It makes Dennis grin again, saying sweetly, “Goodnight, sir.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it tomorrow,” Robby promises lowly, sending an excited thrill through Dennis before he’s humming, “Goodnight, baby. Dream of me.”

“Always do,” he responds quietly with a tired smile before the call is over, wishing he could fall asleep curled up against Robby’s side but he knows he can tomorrow.