Finna Be In Da Pitt

robby gets home early. two months early and 2am early. it's dark out, and he's tired— he's never not tired. a bone-deep exhaustion he just can't shake. couldn't shake it on the road, couldn't work up the courage to hurl himself off a roof or a cliff or something that would end this endless exhaustion for good. he did something he's gotten embarrassingly good at, he gave up.

he assumes dennis is sleeping at the very least, most likely not even there. dennis probably stops by once a day to water a couple of dying plants, make sure no one has broken in overnight. easy enough. of course, dennis was welcome to stay. welcome to anything, his food, (not that there's much of it) his bed, anything he wanted. robby half-expected him to get the house. half-expected himself to never come home.

knew that he was never gonna do it. too pussy, too weak, maybe. he'll make excuses, say PTMC needs him, (what a joke..) that his colleagues would miss him, something, anything. but the damned truth is he just couldn't fucking do it.

robby eases his front door shut, toes out of his boots, sighs heavy through his nose. when he pads into the living room he's shocked to make out a form in the dim light, the rise and fall of breathing, dennis. god, of course. robby should've given him some sort of express permission, do whatever you want, sleep in my bed, wear my clothes, use my shower.

not like— not like that. even though robby's chest feels weird at the thought of it, dennis in his clothes... smelling of him... nuzzling into sheets he's slept in. fuck. robby's always been a fucking pervert when it comes to his adorable intern with the biggest, saddest eyes, but knowing it feels a little better. self-awareness and all that. the kid is just so sweet, so eager, so... he looks up at robby like robby means something to him.

just— dennis should've been comfortable. he knows the kid, always scared of imposing, taking up too much space, being too much. a tendency to curl into himself, even months later with a new edge of confidence. robby knows his mattress is a hell of a lot nicer than his couch, at least.

for a moment he considers if he should leave the little thing all curled up, sleeping, unaware. but robby is a selfish man. and he'll pretend that it's for dennis, that he's thinking about how achy the poor kid will get from sleeping on the couch, but he knows it's not true. robby is fucking tired. and he wants. he wants dennis in his bed, in his arms, sleepy and sweet, something whole, something innocent. someone who likes him. who cares about his opinions and his praises, craves them, even. fuck, yeah, robby's a selfish man. but he knows it. he's aware.

ignoring the protest in his back and knees, he scoops dennis up in the cradle of his arms, grunting at the muscled weight. dennis is short, compared to him at least, and robby fucking loves that more than he should— how small dennis can seem in comparison to him— but he's not exactly tiny. especially not since his return from rotations, with those pretty, sculpted arms robby keeps peeking at every time he offers a job-well-done fistbump.

fucking pervert.

dennis stirs a little, snuffles in the crook of his neck, and robby feels like crying. it's the most intimate he's been with someone in years, it feels like, even though he picked up a girl in a bar on the road just a week ago, gave her a good night. picked up a guy, just a couple days before that. robby's good at flirting, good at sex, good at impersonal.

this feels different. dennis's warm weight, the gentle smell of coconut shampoo, the softness of the dirty blond curls against his chin. this is someone he cares about. and dennis is clinging to him in his sleep, whining a little in the back of his throat as he's laid down on robby's bed. yeah. robby feels like fucking crying, even though he'd never just let himself. he spends most of his time trying not to cry.

but, he lets himself have this. shushes dennis's soft whines, crawls into bed and curls up close, gritting his teeth as dennis takes so easily to it. nuzzles up like he's trying to burrow into robby, shuddering like he's unused to touch, unused to the warmth of another body. robby squeezes his eyes shut and lets himself drop a kiss to the top of dennis's head, breathing him in deep til his shoulders loosen a bit. god, how long has he wanted this? feels like forever. maybe always, in some capacity. someone sweet and forgiving, warm and soft, cuddling up into his chest like robby could ever be considered "safe."

someone staying, as if robby could ever be anything but abandoned.

dennis whispers robby? against his throat and robby tenses up, scared that this safety bubble is popped, that everything's broken, that he's fucked it. that he only had paradise for a moment before it's snatched from his grip all over again.

he might as well give into it while he can. talk to dennis like he does in his head, treat dennis like he fantasizes about on lonely nights. so he hums soft, starts rubbing circles on dennis's back, cuddling him somehow closer as he coos shh, you're okay, baby, you're alright. you're safe, sweetheart. go back to sleep.

robby resigns himself, waits for the other shoe to drop. waits for dennis to realize what's happening, to wrench out of his grasp, maybe yell at robby for holding him, touching him like this without even asking. innocent, maybe, but intimate, too intimate. inappropriate. so robby waits.

dennis only rubs his cheek against robby's shoulder, tucks his face into robby's neck, body going lax with an adorable little yawn. mm, he murmurs, soft, sleepy. your bed's nice. I missed you.

imagining her starting her transition right around the time robby leaves for his sabbatical so that when he comes back, doctor whitaker is not the same person...

and of course she texted robby to warn him before he came back so it wouldn't be a surprise/disaster (trinity practically forced her to bc she kept saying "it's fine idc if he still thinks i'm a guy" while crying on the couch and trinity was like "girl be so fr rn TELL HIM")

and robby was like "oh yeah cool no prob" but he's well aware that he's kind of out of touch so he's terrified he's gonna screw it up and say the wrong thing

so they both come to work feeling very tense

but then they see each other for the first time

dennis (daphne?) grew her hair out a bit over the past few months, and she's wearing it in twin french braids (that trinity was really proud of doing) with cute curly little ends and a pastel pink headband to match the pink floral pattern on her pale yellow undershirt and the pink laces on her nonslip sneakers

and really she doesn't look all that different (she's only been on hormones for like a month at that point) but at the same time she's an entirely different person

a little happier... standing a little taller... not so pale and tired anymore...

it leaves robby speechless

well, not entirely

he stares at her for way too long, and then he bashfully mumbles, "wow... you're really pretty"

and her face turns as pink as her cute little headband and she tries to stutter and stammer out a thank you but she's way too flustered

anyway, dennis comes over, they have dinner and watch a movie, and this is usually when they have sex, it's their routine. It begins how it always does, with dennis leaning in deeper into Robby's side, kissing at the arm over his shoulder and sucking Robby's fingers, then robby's other hand starts to wander further up Dennis's thigh until he's near groping him - at that point Robby is usually hard and ready as Dennis moves to straddle him. But not this time though.

Dennis grinds his hips down, only to be met with Robby's pathetically soft dick. He moves once more before his movements stop, Robby already looking away, eyes welling with tears of shame. He fights against it when dennis's gentle hand first tries to make robby look at him again, but he will always give into what Dennis wants eventually.

looking up into Dennis's wide, worried eyes is what makes the tears slip from his eyes, muttering apologies as he falls into his boy's chest, so guilty. God he's awful.

Dennis just gently strokes the back of his head, rocking them slightly while muttering sweet things, waiting for a while before he leaves Robby's lap (and he hated the fucking pathetic whine they let out at that), before he gently guides Robby over to the bedroom, stripping them both down to their underwear before tucking Robby into bed, briefly disappearing to grab a couple glasses of water before climbing into bed next to him. He kisses the tears of his face as robby lets out a final few sniffles, then pulls him to his chest, cradling Robby so sweetly against his bare chest, grazing his hand lightly up and down his back, lulling the tears away.

But then Dennis picks up the baby/toddler, and Robby just stops fucking working like. Damn. When he’s caught staring, watching chubby hands prod dennis’s face as their eyes meet, and dennis asks “what?” With a soft laugh as he rediverts the baby’s hand away from his mouth, Robby responds “nothing. A baby suits you, whitaker”

i don't think we're collectively getting dennis whitaker pregnant enough. together, my constituents, we can get him bred!

vote dennis whitaker for broodmare 2026

thank you

i bow and take my leave

hi, i'm new here. saw you from across the bar and dug your vibe so i'm here to unload (pun intended) my thoughts about robby being a Professional Eater. people might look at him and dennis and assume "damn, the little twink must be on his knees 24/7" but nope! there would rarely be a fuck session without robby's mouth between his good boy's cheeks. dennis folded in half, riding his face, from behind, bent over whatever piece of furniture is the closest - doesn't matter. robby's getting his taste. he'd lick and kiss and suck and bite until dennis is begging for daddy to please please please put something - anything - inside him. robby would tease him. "daddy's tongue not enough anymore, baby?" dennis would back peddle, desperate and drooling, promising that he didn't mean it. he loves daddy's tongue! he just needs something deep. and robby, the man who doesn't consider it a successful fuck until his jaw is aching, would suck his good boy's cock into his mouth and pound him with his fingers until he begged for mercy.

*winks, slides my card over, and runs away before the cops can catch me*

-🍭 lolli anon

NICE

Dennis got trinity a lesbian flag, a kermit the frog, and a glee pin

omegaverse | hucklerobby | 12k | explicit

this scene of the two of them is so funny cause this is literally amy’s pov. this is probably the first time since season 1 that she’s seen robby and here he is yearning for the guy she befriended while he’s been helping her around the farm.

as soon as they pull away amy says, “so dennis, you do know that your boss is in love with you, right? that man looks at you like you hung the moon.”

dennis sputters, “what? no he doesn’t. he’s just worried that i’m overworking myself, that’s all.”

“mmmhmmm, well, when you guys need a venue for the wedding, you’re more than welcome to have it on the farm. if you do it in april you can have it in the orchards. the peach trees should be blooming and it would be so romantic.”

dennis has to fight the urge to pull into oncoming traffic, the embarrassment making his whole face flush. “yeah right.”