sorry kitten daddy might be an active suicide risk

fumbling through his first hookup with dennis, unsure of what to do. dennis, who's known his queerness for much longer, shyly takes the lead. not domming, not exactly, it's not that type of encounter. when dennis's hand wraps around both of their dicks, barely able to fit, robby whines at the sight of them together, precum dribbling down their shafts, slicking the way.

the pulse of dennis's dick against his, the velvet skin, and oh, god, it feels good, it feels so good, and he's with another man and it feels so good. he's quick to wrap his own hand around them, fucking against dennis's pretty, reddened dick— he never thought he'd think another man's dick was pretty— and whimpering, huffing little pants as he chases the friction, the pleasure.

they both go a little stupid with it, a lot stupid with it, two whiny, rutting mutts, skin flushed and splotchy as they cum over each other's fists. it's bliss, after, dennis slumping into robby all warm and sated, catching his breath, fuzzy-headed and content.

--

the first year they'd lived together, the day trinity always dreaded rolled around: her late best friend's birthday.

dennis didn't know what was wrong, not at first, but he could tell something was up. he and trinity had only been living together for a handful of months but he liked to think they were becoming friends.

when they got home he finally tried asking what was wrong. what followed was an awkward and stilted conversation filled with lots of "sorry"s on dennis' part.

eventually, trinity broke. big messy tears, heaving sobs; dennis had never seen her like this. through the tears she managed to tell him that it was her best friend's birthday, that this was her first year away from home, she couldn't even visit her grave.

dennis had scrounged up ingredients from their pantry and made them both shitty haphazard mug cakes in the microwave. he brought them out to the living room and said, "let's celebrate her." as he settled onto the couch next to trinity. "promise i'll have something proper for her next year."

--

and now it was next year. trinity didn't hold him to it, she was probably weird for even remembering his promise, right?

what she didn't know is that dennis put her birthday in his calendar that night. he wasn't going to forget.

by the sheer grace of god he'd ended up with the day off work. he went to the shopping center to pick up a small but properly decorated cake, it had her name in cursive across the top. he hoped trinity liked it.

he was on his way out of the mall when he walked past a Claire's and saw a display for friendship necklaces. he couldn't say what compelled him exactly but he walked in to take a closer look. there was a set made of three pieces instead of two "B.F.F." one letter on each pendant.

he and trinity had become nearly inseparable over the past year. he definitely considered trinity his best friend and even if it took some prying (and a couple shots of tequila) to get her to admit it, trinity would say the same. but dennis knew trinity loved her childhood best friend first, would always love her first, and maybe this was a cheesy way of acknowledging her but it still felt right. so he found himself with a three part friendship necklace and a birthday cake in tow as he made his way back to their apartment.

--

"what the hell is this, huckleberry?" trinity said as she walked into their apartment later that evening, still in her scrubs and ponytail messy from a day in The Pitt.

"it's her birthday. i told you i'd get the real thing next year, and, well, it's next year now!" dennis said, he was wringing his hands in nervous anticipation.

trinity dropped her bag at the front door and kicked off her shoes before walking over to where dennis stood. there was a cake on the kitchen counter and a small jewelry box beside it.

"it looks like you're about to propose to me," trinity laughed, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to stream down her cheeks. "but thank you, i didn't think you'd remember," she added quietly, not looking him in the eye.

"of course i remembered, trin. she's important to you, so she's important to me," dennis said with a soft smile.

"what's in the ring box?" she asked, trying to deflect from the emotions that were welling in her chest.

"oh! right. um, if you hate it just tell me and we'll forget it ever happened, but," he said as he reached to open the box, "i got us one of those dumb little friendship necklaces. and it has three parts, so you could wear one for her too."

"dennis...." trinity said in disbelief as she stared down at the necklaces in his outstretched hands.

"do you- do you like them?" dennis asked nervously. "oh my god trin did i overstep? i'm so sorry i-" dennis was rambling when he noticed tears running down trinity's cheeks.

"fuck, no, i- i love them. i love you. thank you," she said, wiping her eyes. "but fuck you for making me cry."

dennis chuckled, there was the trinity he knew and loved. "let me put them on you?"

trinity nodded quietly, moving her hair out of the way so he could clasp the chain around her neck. when he finished she looked down, he'd given her the two F pendants.

"friends forever," she whispered as she rubbed the charms between her fingers. she reached for the other necklace and gestured for dennis to turn around so she could put it on him. "there we go, B for bitch!" she said with a shit eating grin.

"walked myself right into that one didn't i?" dennis said shaking his head. "i love you, trin. i mean it."

"love you too, huckleberry," trinity said, grin shifting into a more genuine, earnest smile. "now i think it's cake time, you even got it decorated in her favorite color," her voice was soft and on the edge of breaking, but so full of love.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86714801

[Huckleabbot, hankie code, bdsm dynamics.]

“I think your hanky’s on the wrong side.” 

Dennis had been expecting it. He’d been getting odd looks and well-meaning doms coming up to him all night. Never condescending, never rude, just trying to help what they thought was a new sub dabbling in hankie code. Dennis always gave back a polite smile and a “no, it’s on the side I want it to be.” 

This man was new. 

Not new to the scene, judging by his crow’s feet and comfortability in the space he occupied. Black shirt tucked into camo pants tucked into impeccably shined boots

“No, it’s on the right side. I’ve done my research.” 

The man let out a sheepish huff, flagging down a bartender. “That’s what I get for assuming- lemme buy you a drink?” Dennis took it for what it was- clearly he had already gone in with the plan to chat him up, and this was course correction. The fact that he wasn’t walking away after learning he was a dom… well, Dennis certainly had a type and he fit it like a leather glove. 

“No, it’s alright- people underestimate me. I had to get into hanky code so that people would stop asking me to be their sub.” Dennis joked, taking his Jack and Coke with a nod. 

"You do give off... a vibe.” the man admitted, settling into the stool next to him. 

"You can say 'kicked puppy', it's what my roommate dubbed it.” Dennis grinned into his cup at the snort it pulled from the man before he spoke again. 

"Well if you're looking for puppies you're outta luck, but if you don't mind an old military mutt..." he trailed off, looking at Dennis with a touch of weariness. And it was Dennis's turn to raise his eyebrows.

“Shoot, here I am doing the same thing you were.” 

“Old mutts?” “Assuming, but I wouldn’t be opposed to doing those either.” 

He loved this- the back and forth, the spark. When you realize you’re catching on with someone like a wildfire. The man grinned and took a sip of his drink. Dennis could see a silver chain disappear under his shirt, which led his eyes down the broad plane of his chest. Jesus Christ he was like a tree trunk. Dennis would love to feel those legs wrap around his sides. 

“What’s that there, along your neck?” Dennis asked, using it as an excuse to lean closer. 

“You’ve never seen dog tags before?” the man asked a little incredulously, his next breath cut short as Dennis’s finger traced the line of his carotid artery and only stopped when it hit the chain. Dennis could feel his pulse speed up as his nail scraped the man’s skin gently- watching goosebumps flutter to life in his skin. 

“You already come with a day collar? Cute.” Dennis murmured, hooking his finger under the chain and tugging lightly. The man swallowed hard, wisely waiting for Dennis’s next words. 

“Are you up for adoption?” 

……..

His name was Jack.

He managed to breathe it to Dennis between kisses, cupping Dennis’s cheek and pulling him closer as his fingers tangled in Dennis’s curls. He allowed it, moaning into Jack’s mouth and tasting the remnants of the whiskey he ordered. The stuttered moan that got lost in Dennis’s mouth when he tugged on Jack’s dogtags spiked his blood harder than any alcohol. 

They managed their way up the stairs, Dennis could feel Jack at his heels, the mutt panting behind him. He crowded at his back until Dennis turned on his heel. 

“Sit.” Dennis commanded, watching Jack process the command with a blink. Slowly, he sunk onto one knee, then the other. The action of putting his hands behind his back made the muscles under his thin cotton t-shirt ripple and flex. Chin up, shoulders back. 

Military mutt indeed. 

“Slobbering at my back- you need to be patient to get your treat.” Dennis muttered, carding his fingers over Jack’s scalp before gripping the silver curls at the nape of his neck. Jack groaned, eyelashes fluttering slightly. Dennis craned his neck back just a bit further before letting go. He stripped himself of his shirt and laid it over the bed, undoing his belt in the same unhurried fashion. Jack’s eyes were on him, and with each piece Jack’s body drew tighter and tighter. Ready for his command. 

Dennis sat on the bed and leaned back, enjoying the firmness of the mattress and the soft sheets. Lazily, he looked back at Jack. 

“Jack, come.” 

God, he did- stuck between Dennis’s powerful thighs as he thrust into Dennis’s well-prepped hole. Dennis kept a firm grasp on the dogtags, sometimes letting them loose to enjoy the faint jingle of metal in time with his thrusts. Jack leaned down to nuzzle at Dennis’s neck, kissing it and trailing bites and hickies. His back stung where Dennis’s nails left raised marks down Jack’s skin, combined with the sweat that made him look shiny and indulgent in the low light. 

“Please, please, please, angel, you’re killing me-” Jack croaked, his breathing shuddered with effort to hold back, to keep himself up and thrusting into Dennis like a piston. “You don’t cum until I do.” Dennis breathed, back arching slightly as Jack’s cock bullied over his prostate. Dennis’s own dick smeared precum on Jack’s abs, each spark of skin on skin sending Dennis spiraling higher. Jack moaned and let his head hang between his shoulders while he thrusted, feeling Dennis’s body tighten and shudder around his cock. “Shit, good mutt, good- fuck-” Dennis whined, tensing as his cock shot cum onto Jack’s stomach. Relief flooded Jack as he thrust once, twice, then he was burying his face in Dennis’s neck and filling his hole with seed. The two of them shuddered and panted together, enjoying the press of their bodies before Jack’s foot shifted and he hissed in pain. 

Dennis was alert immediately, sitting up and frowning at the sight of Jack’s prosthetic. 

“Jack, is your leg hurting you?” Dennis asked, cupping Jack’s cheek and making him look at him. Jack heaved a sigh- why did he have to be Jack right now? What happened to mutt? “Mmhh, go back to cuddling.” Jack grumbled, tugging Dennis close by his waist. 

“Nuh-uh, leg first.” Dennis leaned down to press a kiss to Jack’s sweaty skin before making his way down to Jack’s leg, shivering at the feeling of Jack’s cum wetting his thighs. Dennis tapped Jack’s thigh, waiting until Jack looked down at him with something suspiciously close to a pout. 

“You’re going to have to walk me through this, Pup.” Dennis said softly. Jack felt his stomach flutter with… something watching Dennis’s nimble fingers take the time to treat him gently. The pin, the prosthetic propped gently against the bed, the liner peeled off with a breath of relief from Jack. A cool wipe on the sweaty, irritated skin. Usually Jack had to do this himself. He didn’t want his doms to feel like they had to handle something like this. It was mesmerizing watching the care. 

Finally, after Dennis had wiped himself down, he climbed into bed with Jack.

Jack cozied up with Dennis, pulling him to his chest with a rumbly noise low in his throat while he pressed his face to Dennis’s neck. Dennis chuckled as he petted the curls on Jack’s nape. Jack closed his eyes and heaved a soft sigh. 

“Gotta b’careful feeding me scraps, I’ll never leave.” He mumbled, enjoying the soft scritches of his scalp he got in response. 

“I think I could take home an old mutt.”

.

.

.

At first Robby hates when Jack joins their dynamic because it makes him feel like shit. He realizes how much he’s been too hard on Dennis, and kind of resents how effortlessly Dennis respects and trusts Jack in situations where he flinches at Robby. He worries he’s going to be pushed out of the dynamic.

But then Jack starts turning the aftercare toward Robby. He makes everyone talk about the scene, figure out what was good and what could make it better. It turns into Jack and Dennis hugging him and telling him they know he means well, that he wants to give Dennis what he needs but it’s hard to dom in a way that doesn’t mirror his authoritative approach to work.

"Shouldn´t-hmrff, shouldn´t you get that?" Dennis gets out between shuddering breaths.

He receives a muffled chuckle in return, vibrating through his sensitive cunt. Jack pulls off with a wet squelch, keeping the almost bruising grip he has on the boy´s thighs.

Dennis whines, cold air suddenly replacing the wet heat of the older man´s mouth. His hips twitch unwittingly when he looks at Jack.

He looks feral, the lower half of his face dripping with slick. He´s staring up at Dennis through his eyelashes, eyes so dark with lust they look black. He licks his lips once before he speaks.

"Must be doing a bad job if you can focus enough to ask that" His tone is mocking, like he's certain it´s not true.