Huh

Jack has never seen Robby's face look as fucking haggard as it does when he takes Jack aside a few nights later, and breaks the news with as much gentleness as he's still got left in him.

Major traffic accident, car vs pedestrians. Multiple crushing injuries. They'd taken Whitaker to Presby because it was closer to the scene.

Amputation of Whitaker's left leg. Below the knee, Jack hears Robby say, and he knows realistically that it's a good thing. Lucky.

He can't bring himself to say it out loud, and neither can Robby.

---

The decision to take Whitaker under his wing is made without much conscious effort from Jack. It happens like a simple math problem, the outcome consistent and expected.

He goes to visit the kid at Presby, doesn't get offended when he has to introduce himself and then jog the kid's memory about where they've met before.

He lets the kid be numb, then sad, then angry, then sad again. He drives him to the support groups, and lets the kid be bitterly jealous over Jack's control of a vehicle.

"You'll have this again. But in the meantime you get to be pissed about it."

He gets his care transferred over to PTMC, and promises the kid that the ortho and rehab teams won't go spreading rumours or talking about him to his colleagues.

"They're not even my colleagues anymore."

"Hate to break it to you kid, but those pricks are persistent, and most of them have made a real nice ass groove for themselves in that department. Like it or not, those fuckers will be waiting for you when you get back. Robby's practically salivating."

Jack snorts, and tries to hold back another one at the kid's angry, puffed-up kitten scowl.

Jack knows this whole process well enough to know that the uptick of the corner of Dennis' mouth is a win.

He takes the kid to hydrotherapy, and he pulls some strings so that their first session is just the two of them, gently splashing around in the pool. Jack's not a physiotherapist, but he does understand the tightness around Dennis' eyes at the thought of exposing his new body to yet another perfect stranger.

He stands in the water and holds his arms out, waiting patiently for Dennis to be ready. Lets the kid cling to his arms, huffs a quiet laugh at the small sound he makes the instant he's submerged in the warm water.

"Yeah? Takes away some of that aching, huh?"

Dennis nods, quiet in the way that someone is when they're surprised that a promise has been kept. Jack slowly inches backwards in the water, only a couple of inches, stops when Dennis makes a gutteral, unsteady sound.

"I got you, I got you." The kid's fingers are leaving livid white marks on his biceps, but that's not important. "I'm not gonna let you fall. You remember what we talked about before? About what to do if you start to overbalance?"

"I know how to swim. I lost a leg, not my memory."

"Oh yeah?" Jack grins, gently bobs them both a little in the water. "Well if you remember how to swim, and you remember your piss-poor attitude, why don't you stop doing your best bubble impression and take some baby steps for me?"

Dennis scowls, and the indignation and curiosity almost cancels out his hesitation and fear.

"Shut up. What the hell does that even mean?"

Jack is so very glad he asked.

"Your bubble impression?" He shrugs, deliberately looking away from Denns' legs making their first hesitant shuffles. "Floating there looking pretty, but not doing much else."

"Oh, fuck you."

He's there when Dennis gets his first prosthesis, ready to catch him when the inevitable frustration and disappointment set in at the realisation that the freedom of mobility doesn't come without adjustments.

"Dennis. Look at me." The kid's face is blotchy and red, and he's been studiously avoiding Jack's eyes ever since they got back.

"It's okay to be frustrated. I know it hurts. It's a completely new piece of equipment being attached to a part of your body that never expected to have this attached. There's new pressure, new sensations, and it's all happening to new, sensitive skin, and muscle and bone that are still adjusting. Give yourself some grace, kid."

"I'm - I'm lucky to have this." Dennis spits out. That word again, the tricky sticking point that even Jack never quite got to grips with. "I shouldn't be complaining. There are people far worse off than me."

Jack hums, handing Dennis the antibac wipes and offering no further guidance on cleaning.

"Sure. There are definitely people who are worse off." He sees Dennis' head jerk upwards, finally gets that eye contact he'd been chasing.

"But I'm not talking to them, I'm talking to you. Other people have it worse, and you've still been dealt a shitty hand right now. Both things can be true. You're lucky to have access to the prosthesis and the rehab teams. This -" he gently pats the prosthetic limb like it has its own nerves "-is going to be the thing that gives you your freedom and mobility back. But right now, it's new and it hurts, and it'll take adjustment. Both things can be true."

He shows Dennis his own prosthesis, his own stump, and how the two work together. He was surprised at how intimate and vulnerable it felt, letting Dennis see him remove his leg and care for his stump at the end of a long shift. He was interested by his own tenderness at the process, as he'd long thought he was over any feelings of particular vulnerability where observation was concerned.

But he shared all the small things he'd learned over the years with Dennis. All the little things that nobody without a prosthesis could possibly be expected to know, despite their qualifications, because they were the kind of things you only learnt by living it. He softened when he saw Dennis' face set in such concentration as he told him about tips for dealing with hot weather, felt something in him ache a little tenderly at the expression on the kid's face when Jack talked openly about the need for hygiene and the reality of 12-hour shifts and sweat and residual limb care.

He was there the first time he saw it in Dennis' face; the realisation that different did not negate okay. He was there when the kid met with Robby (and really, it was supposed to be a meeting with administration first, but Jack wasn't stupid) to discuss returning for the rest of his rotation.

He was definitely there when the kid started to look at him with something dangerously close to admiration and worship and - if Robby was to be believed - little tiny hearts in his eyes.

"He's too fucking young for me."

"He's twenty six."

"Too. Fucking. Young. He's all caught up with looking at me as his saviour right now."

"Pretty sure he's seen you at your least glamourous. I don't know if you think you've been some kind of perfect, Florence Nightingale figure with endless pools of patience and grace, but let me tell you that you've been cranky, difficult, downright fucking belligerent, and I've heard you tell the worst fucking jokes in your reportoire. The kid still laughs at them and gives you cow eyes."

"He's still too-"

"Both things can be true."

It was late in the evening when Dennis’s phone rang, the special ringtone he’d assigned to work calls. Trinity was out for the evening, he preferred to work when she was at Garcia’s to avoid her having to listen to him fake phone sex from his bedroom. He went through the usual admin with the office before they connected him to the call, his focus still on his anatomy book.

“Hi.” The voice said as it clicked onto the call. Dennis thought it sounded familiar but admin always told them if it’s a repeat customer so they remembered their names. Makes the caller feel special that way.

“Hey sweetheart.” Dennis purred, casually flicking to the next page in his book. “What do you want me to call you?” He learnt early on, don’t bother asking for a name because they usually want some nickname. The number of times he’d moaned ‘Daddy’ was ridiculous.

“Michael.” The caller rumbled back. Dennis breath hitched. He knew he recognised the voice.

“Okay, Michael. And what do you want to call me?” He asked, wondering how many HR rules he was violating with this phone call.

There was a long silence after the question, even though he hadn’t said much Dennis knew he’d been caught out. He was ready to start sprouting out apologies, offer the name of a co-worker, promise he’d never tell anyone at work what happened when Robby spoke again.

“Dennis.”

Dennis thought his heart was going to stop.

“I want to call you Dennis.” Robby said.

“Oh.” Oh.

The crush he’d been harbouring for his boss, the crush he was convinced was unrequited despite what Trinity said, was reciprocated by Robby.

Well, he might not have quite the same feelings that Dennis had but he at least thought he was attractive which was always a bonus.

“And what would you do if I was there with you Michael?”

“Fuck.” Dennis wanted to laugh at how shocked Robby sounded, did he really think they’d spend ages making small talk? Especially as he was paying 25 cents a minute.

“Want to know what I’d do if I was there?” Dennis offered, he was used to shy first time callers. Although, he was surprised by Robby based on the confidence with which he ran the ED.

“Yeah, Dennis, tell me.”

“I’d crawl into your lap and kiss you, do you have facial hair Michael?” Dennis asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Yeah, I do.” He replied, and Dennis hummed happily in response.

“That would feel so good against my skin, you’d move to my neck, you’d bite and suck until I was covered in beard rash and love bites. It would be embarrassing at work the next day but I wouldn’t care.” Dennis felt himself getting turned on by the thought of walking into the Pitt looking like he’d been ravished by Robby.

“I’d love to see you covered in my marks.” Robby growled, hopefully imagining the same thing as Dennis.

“Yeah? While you mark me up, I’d slowly start to move my hips in your lap, gently until I could feel you getting harder against me but then I wouldn’t be able to hold back. Then I’d be grinding down just to feel you.”

“I didn’t know you had this side to you Dennis, I always thought you were such a good boy.” Robby sounded breathless, Dennis had done this job long enough to know he’d started touching himself.

“You’d be surprised Michael, I can be very naughty when I want to.”

“I… I should have known you’d be a brat.” He laughed. “What you gonna do next?”

“When your cock is nice and hard, I’d pull you off my neck because I’d need it in my mouth. God, I’d need to taste you, Michael.”

“Fuck.” Robby gasped. “You sound just like him, shit.”

Dennis awkwardly cleared his throat, he couldn’t give the game away now. Not when he could feel his own dick getting hard.

“I bet you’re big, aren’t you Michael?” Again, Dennis already knew the answer to that after he had accidentally on purpose glanced over when they’d been next to each other at the urinals. He’d fucked himself raw that night with just that image.

“I’ve never had any complaints.” Robby said modestly.

“Fuck.” Dennis gasped, for once his moans weren’t faked. “I’d struggle to fit you all in, I’d have to use my hands as well but I’d make you feel good, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, baby, you would.”

“I’d be desperate for you, I’d take your cock as deep as I could so I wouldn’t miss a drop. Fuck, Michael, I’d swallow everything you give me.” He sighed, his hands itching to touch.

“No!” Robby cried out. “I’d stop you. I need to fuck you.”

“Oh?”

“I’d fuck you so good Dennis.” He promised, and Dennis didn’t doubt him for a second.

“Yeah? Tell me what you’d do.”

“I’d pin you down to my bed, hold your hands above your head to stop you misbehaving. I’m the one opening you up and you are not allowed to touch yourself while I do. Only my hands can be on you.”

“I need you to boss me around, tell me what to do Michael.” Dennis begged.

“Nothing, you’re not going to do anything. You’re just going to lie there and take it. Squirming on my fingers as they go deeper and make you feel so good.”

Dennis never touches himself during these phone calls, it’s a job at the end of the day and it’s hardly professional to be getting yourself off at work. And usually, he’s multi-tasking. Once Trinity walked in on him making mac and cheese whilst on a call, she’d teased him mercilessly after that. Hence why he avoided having her in the flat for his shifts. But today his text book was long forgotten at the foot of his bed.

He couldn’t resist slipping his hand down his shorts when it was Robby breathing down the phone, when it was Robby panting and grunting in his ear. He wished he’d known beforehand so he could have prepped himself, he wanted nothing more than to use his dildo but he’d have to make do with just stroking himself. He was sure this phone call would be masturbation material for months to come so the dildo could wait.

“When you’re all stretched out for me, I’d finally put my cock inside you. It’s what you’ve wanted this whole time isn’t it Dennis?” Robby teased, if only he knew how true his words were.

“Yes!” He groaned. “God, I’d feel so full. Michael, you’d fill me up so well that I’d feel you in my throat.”

“You’d feel so amazing around me, so hot and so tight.” Robby as panting hard now, he must be close but Dennis was embarrassingly close too. “Bet you’d be so loud Dennis, absolutely screaming as I fuck you.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.” Dennis admitted. “My voice would be sore the next day from shouting your name all night.”

“Do it Dennis, scream for me.” Robby begged.

“Ro- Right there.” He gasped, hating himself for nearly slipping up. “Michael! I’m so close Michael.”

“Same, baby. Come with me Dennis.”

“Michael.” Dennis chanted as he came, hearing Robby brokenly call out his own name as he did too.

After that was silence, just the sound of their deep breathing down the phone. Dennis had to fight the urge to start giggling. He’d just had the most intense orgasm of his life and it was all thanks to phone sex with his boss. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, he knew the moment he realised it was Robby he should have come clean and dealt with the fall out at work but he was feeling too blissed out to care right now.

“Who do I ask for if I want to talk to you again?” Robby finally broke the silence.

“Elijah.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you again soon.” He said.

“I look forward to it.”

Dennis was almost disappointed by the dial tone but he knew most of his callers hung up pretty soon after they’d come. It was just a waste of money after that point.

But true to his word, Robby did call him back. Quite a few times actually, each time he called him Dennis and each time Dennis couldn’t resist from touching himself too.

It had gone on for too long now that Dennis knew he could never confess, it would be far too awkward to pull Robby aside one day and say ‘you know that guy you’ve been having phone sex with, funny story it’s actually me’. Instead, he decided to keep it a secret until he finished his rotations and started residency. Then he wouldn’t need the extra cash and he could just disappear from Michael’s life.

Unfortunately, fate had other ideas. When he’d been rushing out of a patient’s room and not paying attention he trapped his fingers in the door jam.

“Ah!” He cried out, pulling his hand free and gripping his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He was whimpering and moaning so much that it sounded sexual to his own ears, and judging by the smirk on Trinity’s face it sounded that way to everyone else. He was about to joke it off when his eyes met Robby’s across the hub, wide and staring at him.

“Elijah?” He croaked, Trinity laughing loudly when she heard him.

“Why is Dr Robby calling you by your middle name?” She cackled but Dennis barely registered her.

He could tell it was all clicking into place, Robby was putting the pieces of the puzzle together. He was watching his boss come to the realisation he’d been having phone sex with his student for the past few weeks.

He knows, too, where this all comes from. His Dad didn't care enough to stick around for him and his Mom. That hurts, but, from everything he's heard about the man, he wasn't great anyway.

His Mom worked her ass off to make sure Dennis could have a happy, fulfilled childhood. Never want for anything. And he was grateful to her for it, so grateful. He loved her - she was a badass who'd do anything for him. 

But she was never very … around. When he was a kid. Always working, and he still feels guilty for being resentful of it, when she was doing it for him. 

The big one, though. The one that really changed the way his brain works, was Robby and Jack. One minute, a lonely toddler who no-one seemed to be able to handle, and the next - overwhelmed with attention and love and spoiling. 

He'd gotten used to having fathers who adored him. Indulged him. Would take him anywhere he wanted to go, cater to his every whim. He took for granted that they loved him, and then - gone. 

So yeah, he knows what his problem is, and he knows where it comes from. 

That doesn't mean it magically goes away. He just knows it's there. 

Finding them again, and finding them the way he has, well. 

It's a lot. 

He can feel that old love flaring back to life. The way he'd felt about them as a little kid. Hero worship and adoration and the clingy, needy urge to be with them all the time. The fact that they're gorgeous, and want him? 

Well, that helps too. 

They really, really seem to want him. He's learned his lessons from previous relationships. Don't be too much, don't cling. Don't expect too much, don't get your hopes up. 

So he doesn't. He applies all those lessons to this, too. 

It doesn't work. 

When he gently declines their invitations to spend the night at their place, it's not met with cool calm coyness. They're confused, and unhappy. 

"Well, why not?" Jack asks, brow furrowed. "Do you have plans?" 

Dennis shakes his head. 

"No, I just - you guys have a night in together. I'll study or something." 

Jack shares a look with Robby, that married telepathy thing he's always kind of admired and never been able to get in on. 

"Is there a reason you don't want to come over?" Robby prods. They're having this conversation out in the open, where anyone could hear. Like they don't care who knows that they're seeing him. 

He can feel himself going pink, remembering the last time he spent the night. Their hands on him, everywhere. Jack purring into his ear, promising all the filthy things he was going to do to their little boy. 

"No, just - " 

"Then we want you there. Okay?" 

He spends three nights a week in their bed, which slides into four, which slides into five. He keeps trying to tell them - I can go home, I don't need to be here. Trying not to make it seem like this is everything to him. That he's happier than he's ever been, and he never, ever wants to leave. 

People don't like hearing that. 

They keep telling him that they're happier with him there. That they want to be able to keep an eye on their boy. And their hands, and mouths, and tongues, and - 

Robby is deeply affectionate. Always touching him, one way or another. He holds Dennis in his lap on long afternoons, absent-mindedly tracing his fingers up and down the boy's sides. He holds his hand when they drive into work together. He's always got a hand on him at work - on his shoulder or his lower back. 

Jack's a little more … lascivious about it. Dennis is coming to learn that his brand of affection is sex. 

He's on Dennis all the fucking time. Will get home from his night shift and crawl into their bed, spreading Dennis' legs in his sleep and suckling at his cock. It's a hell of a way to wake up. 

"You know he used to come home and do that to me," Robby murmurs, sleepy, as Dennis moans quietly. 

His eyes snap open, and he looks over at the man, worry spiking. 

"I - sorry, I didn't. I'm not trying to steal him," he promises, even as Jack's tongue swipes over his slit and he shivers. 

"Oh, baby, I know," Robby coos, and reaches out a hand to stroke through Dennis' hair. "Wasn't a complaint. I love seeing you come apart for him." 

And he does, over and over, come apart for Jack. For the both of them. 

He cums down Jack's throat, slow and lazy, and when the man reappears from under the covers, he looks perfectly content. Lips slightly slick. 

"Morning, little one," he purrs, and Dennis melts. God, he wants to keep this forever. "Thanks for breakfast." 

Robby snorts, and then Jack's eyes are on him, hungry. 

"Don't you start," Jack warns, before diving back under the covers. Robby's mouth falls open, and Dennis knows he's getting the same treatment. He watches Robby's face, twitching with pleasure, unhurried and familiar. 

"C'mere, baby boy," Robby breathes, reaching for him, and when he comes, it's with a groan right into Dennis' mouth. 

Jack squirms up Robby's body, head appearing from under the top of the covers, resting on his chest. 

"Fuck, you both taste good together," he sighs, eyes fluttering closed as Robby's hand comes to rest on his back, solid and firm and grounding. 

Dennis doesn't know how he got this lucky. How he managed to land back here, with these two men. He wants so badly not to fuck it up. 

Truthfully, he could have said it, iloveyou, the night they took him home for the first time. He does love them. He's always loved them. They make him feel wanted and cherished and safe. 

He knows better than that, though. That would have been coming on way, way too strong. Even if they're infatuated with him right now, it's only been a few months. It could wear off. It could wane. 

They could get tired of him, again. 

In the end, and of course, of course. Robby says it first. 

It's been a bitterly freezing cold day, and they both went out with the street team on a day shift. Hours of trudging through arctic winds, sludgey snow, and other people's misery. 

Dennis is shivering by the time they get home. They both are, but the kid's smaller. Got less fat on him to keep him warm. 

"Fuck this. Go get undressed, I'm running us a bath," Robby says, ditching his large coat and toeing off his boots. The cold is in both their bones, and while it's unpleasant for him, it's more painful seeing Dennis shake. 

By the time the bath is full, and steam rises off the water, they've both stripped off. Robby eases himself into the water, spreads his legs, and gestures for Dennis to hop in. He does, settling between Robby's legs and leaning against his chest. 

"G-God, that was s-s-so cold," Dennis chatters, though the hot water, and the warmth of Robby's body absorbing the heat of it too, helps. "D-don't think I've b-been that cold in a-ages." 

Robby's hand comes to rest on his belly, rubbing small circles into the soft skin. 

"We had some pretty fucking cold winters when you were little," he says, and Dennis can hear the smile in his voice. "Had to rug you up so good you could barely walk. Just this little toddle." 

"I was a toddler," Dennis points out, but he's grinning too. He loves when they tell him about those years. All those memories he's lost, but they kept. "That's what they do. Toddle." 

Robby laughs, warm breath against the back of his neck. 

"Okay, touche. Still, I remember when your little cheeks got so red out in the snow. You never wanted to come back inside, even when Jack ordered you to," he goes on. "Kinda like they have now." 

Dennis sinks deeper into the water, the edge of the coldcoldcold finally coming off. 

"I liked the snow," he argues. "It was so much fun. Snowballs and making angels. We don't do that stuff as adults. It's the best." 

Robby's hand slips lower, resting on his hip. The other hand strokes through Dennis' hair, warm water washing out the touches of frost. 

"We can still do that stuff," he says, soft. "You wanna make snow angels, baby boy?" 

Dennis' toes curl. 

"Maybe," he admits, a touch embarrassed. It's such silly kid stuff. He's just … missed it. "You don't think it's dumb?" 

Robby's hands on him will never stop being the loveliest thrill. Sitting here, in the bath with him, he feels achingly taken care of. Held and gently bathed, like he's precious. 

"No, baby," Robby murmurs. "I don't think anything you want is dumb. I love you." 

He stills, and so does Robby. Silence stretches out between them. 

"Is - that okay?" Robby asks, tentative. 

Dennis makes a hell of a mess slopping water out of the tub to turn and kiss Robby hard. 

"You love me?" he moans into the man's mouth. 

"Always have," Robby breathes between kisses. "You're my kid." 

Jack, too, says it before he can. But he doesn't even say it to Dennis. 

"You try being in love with a 26 year old, you'll pick up their stupid slang, too," he says to Ellis, so casually. Like Dennis isn't standing right there. Like he's already said it, and it's common knowledge. 

Ellis snorts. 

"Dennis, tell your old man to stop saying bet or I'm gonna have to smack his ass down," she says, pointing a finger at him. He's too pink to respond. 

When she leaves, Dennis shoves at Jack. 

"Jesus, what?" Jack says, raising a brow and regaining his footing. 

"In love with me?" Dennis hisses. 

"Yeah?" 

He looks so unaffected. 

"You didn't want to tell me that before you told Ellis?" 

Jack grins, like he's told a funny joke. Then, he's scooping up Dennis into his arms, strong hands under his thighs. Dennis yelps, but there's never any wriggling out of this when Jack wants him here. 

"You didn't think I wasn't in love with you the second I got my mouth on you?" he asks, eyes twinkling. 

"Put him down, Abbot," Lena says wearily, rolling her eyes as she strides past them. 

He doesn't. 

"I think you don't know how important you are, little one," Jack continues, though he lowers his voice for this part. They're not so naive as to think that that part of their relationship is necessarily for public eyes and ears. 

"I - " 

"No, no. Daddy's talking. You've got it in your head that you're not the single most important fucking thing in our lives. Well, I'm gonna have to shake that out of you. 'Cause you are. You have been since you were tiny. Got you back now, and I'll be damned if you're getting away again." 

Dennis says it that night in bed, Robby's cock splitting him open. His legs spread wide, his back pressed against Jack's chest, fucked between the two of them. 

"I - I love you," he mewls, and he can feel Jack's cock twitch against his ass. "Love you so much, Daddy." 

Robby hears the issue before he's even stepped into Jack's house.

Even through the closed door, he can hear Jack's footsteps approaching, and underneath that, a constant, fractious whining sound, interspersed with the sound of rhythmically-clanging metal.

"Brother, am I fucking glad to see you."

Jack leans heavily into Robby's embrace, and even to Robby's human nose he smells like sweat, exhaustion, and the slightly wheaty-milky smell that all newly-turned wolves have.

Robby follows Jack through the house and watches him flop on the couch with a sigh. Robby notices the fabric on the corners has been torn, and the wood underneath has been chewed into damp, splintered crescents.

The whines that have been drifting through the house suddenly pick up in their intensity, and Jack's eyes grow fond even through the exhaustion.

"Dennis, buddy, I'm right here. You're okay, I'll be with you in a minute."

Robby takes a seat next to Jack, allowing the warmth of their thighs to press against each other.

"Tell me what's happening, brother."

The whining in the next room pauses, chokes and grumbles into something wary, something warning. Jack opens his mouth, but Robby cuts him off.

"Ignore him, he'll be fine. You know he'll be fine. Let him cry for a minute, it won't hurt him. Tell me."

Jack sighs, scrubs a hand down his face.

"He's a sweet kid."

"That why your furniture's all chewed up?"

"He is a sweet kid. The furniture is chewed up because he's also a brat, he's scared, he's restless, and he's in pain. I also think he's - not particularly one of the lucky ones."

Robby ducked his head, curtailing some of the comments that had been tripping off the tip of his tongue, about Jack being a soft touch and thinking that all brats were sweet kids, even when sometimes a brat is just a brat.

Dennis being...unlucky changed things, just a little.

Sometimes, particularly if a turning is violent and traumatic, it can do more than just make a wolf of a man. Sometimes, the change can knock something off-kilter in both man and beast, and in the worst cases, loved ones have reported being barely able to recognise their person, even when they're not under the influence of the transformation.

"Did you know him before? What kind of severity are we looking at here?"

Jack shook his head, cast a quick glance back at the spare room, where the sounds have quieted to the gentle, metallic shuddering sounds of teeth gnawing on a cage.

"I didn't know him before, so it's not like I can comment on his baseline. It's more that I see something in him sometimes, and I know that's probably who he was before all this."

Robby leans over to press a hand to Jack's back, sweeping it up and down in broad strokes, daring once or twice to venture to the back of Jack's neck and squeeze comfortingly.

"Severity? Nothing too bad - he's not really aggressive, he's just...incredibly rambunctious, restless to the point where even he's frustrated with it, and he swings between wanting to take a bite out of me to being so incredibly clingy that I can't take a piss in peace."

Robby quirks a smile at that.

"Cute. Sounds like just another day at the office to me, Abbot." His lips twitch at Jack's snort, and he flicks his gaze to the spare room and the gnawing sounds.

"What are we today? Clingy, or bitey?"

"Can't a man have a bit of both?"

Robby rolls his eyes, jerks his head at Jack.

"Helpful. C'mon then, bring him out here and I'll take a look."

---

Jack is gone for longer than Robby had anticipated, and he hears the low, soothing rumble of his voice followed by the clink of a crate door being unlatched, and then the whining sounds from earlier return with a vengeance.

"Oh, I know, I know. There you go, you're okay, I'm back now. Come on, we're going to go through and meet a friend of mine."

Quiet, frantic chattering that Robby can't quite make out.

"Yes, I'm sure he'll like you, and I'm sure he'll want to be your friend too. But you have to be a good boy, because Robby only likes good boys."

Robby raises his eyebrows reflexively, barely has time to school his face and wipe the slight smirk off it before Jack rounds the corner, half-dragging Dennis behind him by a firm grip on the back of his neck.

"Dennis, this is my friend, Robby. Robby, this is Dennis."

Jack has to practically drag Dennis to sit on the couch with him, pulling him tightly to his side to try to contain some of the restless wiggling and attempts to climb into Jack's lap and seemingly directly into his skin.

"Hi Dennis. I know this must all be very confusing, and I know you're struggling, and I'm here to help with that. Jack's told me a little bit about you, but would you like to tell me about yourself?"

"No." Spat petulantly into Jack's neck, where Dennis is trying to hide himself. Jack's gaze hardens a little.

"Dennis. I told you, Robby is my friend, and he's trying to be yours. You will be polite."

Dennis whines like Jack has told him he can't have his favourite treat, and Robby finds himself ticking off all the relevant boxes in his head, and writing little notes in the imaginary margins.

He tilts his head, tries to make eye contact with Dennis, who only glares at him with one baleful eye, the other hidden in Jack's clavicle.

"Dennis, I think it's going to be a lot more helpful if you look at me and answer my questions. Can you do that?"

"Fuck off."

Jack looks like he's about to snap a reprimand, but Robby simply nods at Dennis, slow and calm, as if he's made a mildly interesting observation.

"Okay." Soft and gentle, voice pitched low as if to soothe. Robby makes eye contact with Jack, asking a question that doesn't need to be spoken between them. Jack nods in return, and Robby smiles.

He's standing almost as fast as a natural-born wolf, one hand closing on Dennis' scruff and the other on his wrist with practiced ease, and he hauls him off of Jack, manhandling him while he wails and writhes in his grip.

Those newly sharp teeth snap around the air where Robby's hand was, and Dennis grunts in surprise when Robby easily nudges the back of his knees and sends him toppling to the floor, bent and kneeling beside Robby's legs.

A sharp crack snaps through the air, and Dennis' startled cry is almost comically delayed. Robby's hand stays poised by Dennis' thigh, where it has just made a hard and sudden impact.

"You do not bite." Robby's other huge hand is clamped hard around Dennis' neck, and he shakes him by the scruff briefly for emphasis, jiggling a soft whine from Dennis in the process. Robby leans down to speak into Dennis' poor, red ear as the puppy flushes in shock and humiliation. His voice is like velvet, gentle and calm and slightly unsettling if it's rubbed the wrong way. "You do not bite me, and from now on you do not bite Jack unless I'm here to supervise your playtime. I can already see you've done damage to his furniture, but that stops now. Oh, I know, that's all very cruel, isn't it?"

Robby has slowly manipulated Dennis so his head is forced to lie on his knee. He can see the poor thing's eyes darting frantically towards Jack. He taps Dennis' thigh once more in warning, clicks his tongue.

"No, I'm talking to you now. You don't need to look at Jack, he's already put up with enough from you."

A choked whine with some real distress in it, and Robby lets his voice soften just a little.

"Don't work yourself up, he's not abandoning you and you're still his very sweet little puppy that he's very fond of. But you've been misbehaving - no, we don't need to hear any whining from you, thank you - so I'm going to help you be a good boy for Jack. Because I think that's what you want, isn't it? Just to be a good, sweet boy, am I right?"

Despite the shock still clouding his eyes and making his pulse flutter frantically at his throat, Dennis' body has started to unwind from its unbearable tightness as Robby's voice washes over him, and his head grows heavy as he settles, trance-like, further into Robby's lap and his hold. He nods, once, barely perceptible.

Jack smiles and Robby coos gently down at Dennis, who is aware on some level that this big, strange man is patronising him, but he just can't bring himself to wish that he'd stop. The words, the voice, they all drag him down to a place where the aches and pains and frantic, screaming new instincts in his body are all like distant, fading echoes in a dark place. It's peaceful here.

"Oh, what a good boy. See, we can be friends now, can't we?" Robby glances up at Jack, keeps one hand locked to the back of Dennis' neck and squeezing rhythmically.

"Is he eating?"

"Inconsistently. Sometimes he acts like he's starving, other days I have to wrestle water down his throat. Nothing too out of the ordinary, given the new senses can be pretty overwhelming."

Robby nods, running his other hand up and down Dennis' back, feeling his muscles shudder and chase the sensation. He allows himself a small smirk up at Jack.

"Touch?"

"Wanted. Constantly."

Robby chortles a rusty laugh at the dryness of Jack's tone, the quirk of his eyebrow.

"But he's also incredibly restless, and his muscles and bones hurt all the time from the change. He wants to pace and play and wrestle - and bite - at all fucking hours. He won't stay still enough for anything else. He barely sleeps, which is only making everything worse."

"Okay." Robby nods thoughtfully, patting Dennis' back and feeling him twitch in response. "Well, let's start there, then. See if we can't get some of this tension out of you, hmm?"

Without any further discussion or hesitation, Robby reaches the hand that isn't clamped on Dennis' neck down to his legs, and nudges them apart.

"Okay Dennis, just let me in and give me some room - there you go, there's a good boy."

Dennis is so startled by the hand easily dipping below his waistband that he barely does anything more than grunt at the sensation of one of those big, hairy hands closing around his cock. He reflexively jerks, tries to curl around the intrusive hand, but his neck is still being squeezed, his head still pressed against Robby's knee, and even the gentle, steady pressure on his cock isn't enough to fully yank him out of that warm, comfortable low place he's sunk to. He whimpers when Robby's hand actually starts moving firmly, stroking up and down his cock in a somewhat clinical fashion.

"Mm, I know, you weren't expecting that, were you? Poor puppy. I know, it's all very personal, isn't it?" Robby's musing in the same mild way he might have been talking about the weather, and it makes something writhe in Dennis' belly as his hips start to twitch ever so slightly. "Just relax, there's a good boy. You've got all that pent up energy, and it's only getting you in trouble, isn't it? Give it to me and I'll get rid of it, there we go."

"He's responsive, that's a good sign," Robby directs casually to Jack, who has resumed swigging at his beer as he lets Dennis hold hazy eye contact with him. He smiles at his poor, befuddled boy as his cheeks start to flush and he starts to vocalise in tiny, repeated little whimpers.

"Can't say I'm surprised," Jack returns easily, "he's all over me the minute I do so much pat his hand. Hell, sometimes all I have to do is look at him and he'll come running over here like I've dangled a treat in front of him."

"Jack!" Tearful and wobbly, Dennis' part-plea part-protest almost gets swallowed by his unsteady breathing as Robby starts to twist his wrist on the upstroke.

"Ah ah, drop the attitude." Robby ceases all movement, gripping Dennis' cock tight at the base and nodding when it tears a quiet cry from Dennis' throat. His hips bob helplessly, though it does him no good to essentially be humping the air. "If you want to whine, I'll make sure you have something to whine about."

"I'm - I'm sorry. Robby, I'm sorry."

"Not to me."

"Jack - Jack, I'm sorry. Sir, I promise I'm so - I'm so sorry."

"Very pretty, such a good boy." Robby gently coos down at him, slowly resuming his stroking as Jack lowly assures Dennis.

"I know you are, Den. You're doing very well. Does that feel nice?"

Dennis nods frantically, as much as he can with Robby's hand still clamping down on his neck and keeping his head on his lap. His eyes are red-rimmed as they gaze up at Jack, whimpers falling quietly but far more freely from his lips as he alternates between holding his breath and panting in desperate, gulping breaths.

"You've been tense and hurting for a long time, haven't you Dennis?" Robby murmurs, low and quiet into his ear. A sound a lot like a sob tears its way through Dennis' throat and he nods in frantic, undone agreement. His hips are faltering in their rhythm.

"And it's all built and built inside you until it all comes pouring out," Robby glides his fingers over the head of Dennis' cock, feels his whole body twitch, "in such naughty behaviour. So we're going to make sure you have a proper outlet for that, hmm? We're going to make sure you're nice and empty down here, so that head of yours can be quiet and fuzzy and relaxed." Dennis is starting to let out urgent little sounds now, eyes glued to Jack, almost like he's making a distress call, begging Jack to answer, to give him what he needs.

"Robby-"

"He can come when he's remembered his manners."

"Please! Sir - please. Can I? I'll be good, I promise I'll be - be good."

Robby laughs at the sheer desperation, and Jack makes a lazy attempt to hide just how sweet he finds it. Robby raises his brows at Jack, shrugs at him.

"He's your puppy, not mine."

"Go ahead, Denny, let Robby get it all out of you."

The way Dennis curls violently around Robby's hand, the way he wails, open-mouthed and distraught, Jack almost thinks he's in mortal pain. He shudders and sobs and convulses in Robby's hand while the older man shushes him and gradually slows the action of the hand between his legs, while the one gripping Dennis' neck starts up a gentle palpating motion.

Jack feels compelled to reach over and stroke a hand down Dennis' narrow, shuddering back.

"Denny?"

A low, ruined sob is his only answer, and it pulls at Jack's hearstrings. He looks to Robby for approval, and a brief, fond nod is his only answer. He reaches down to haul Dennis up beneath his armpits, passing his limp, shuddering form easly over to Jack.

"Hey sweetheart." Jack rumbles into Dennis' ear, settling him against his chest, patting the muscles that still twitch. "Does it all feel a little less staticky now?"

An exhausted whine is the only sound the drifts up from the shuddering heap that is Jack's puppy, and Robby snorts fondly.

~Ao3

The Healer Has The Bloodiest Hands

He wakes up two days later on a stained mattress in some backstreet doctor’s room in Tijuana. There are twelve stitches on his side, and the wound burns and itches but it doesn’t register fully; what he can’t shake is the phantom feeling of knives sticking out from his back, from his chest, blades cutting everywhere and sliding down his throat.

When Pope turns his head there is no Julia, and there is no J. Deran is by his side, alone, with red eyes and greasy hair so tangled that Pope wonders distractedly if they are going to have to cut it to get rid of the matted locks. His clothes are fucked beyond repair but what hits Pope the most is how he is bent over himself, like he feels so heavy his bones cannot handle the weight. Pope looks around for Craig, to ask him what’s wrong with Deran, but the room is bare and empty.

“Where’s Craig?” Pope croaks.

--

or:

Pope survives and starts a new life under the name of Jack Abbot

~ Smau

Untitled Hucklerabbot Smau

(Also on TikTok in video format!)

The hospital decides to post some pictures of the fundraiser they held after a year from Pittfest. Things get complicated for Dennis Whitaker when his estranged brothers see them

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12A - Part 12B - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16A - Part 16B - Part 17