lav

"Not too much Mike, let it hurt a bit."

Jack's voice didnt make Dennis jump, it did bring him down slightly at the reminder that they were being watched . Listening to the instruction, the cap being closed and the bottle being thrown beside the bed being the only sounds other than their heavy panting.

Robbys tip slowly pushed at Dennis's entrance, he had prepped before Jack had arrived. The smaller man's hips were grabbed softly and Robby slowly began to push into him.

"Just fuck him Mike. Now."

Just like that, the older man bottomed out and Dennis's jaw was slacked, the pain mixing with pleasure. The thrusts began slow and shallow, Dennis let his torso fall on to the bed and moan at the sensation.

"Jesus christ Mikey, hold him harder, bruise him, fuck him harder."

Dennis could feel the hesitancy as Robby tightened his grip, still not hard enough to leave bruises but enough that he would feel the sensation for a few hours after the hands were no longer there. The thrusts did follow instuction though, they were harder, deeper, Dennis's whole body being moved by Robby's dick as it pushed and pulled.

"Such a good boy" the awe and wonder in Robbys voice made Dennis's heart flutter.

"He is a little slut that needs to be fucked hard. So stop pampering the whore and fuck him."

Jack sounded annoyed, the pair could hear him shifting in the chair in the corner of the room where he was watching him. Dennis could picture Jack leaning forward, arms balancing on his thighs, his face scowled with the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"Such a fucking whore, taking it so well, like you were meant too."

Dennis couldnt reply to Jack even if he wanted to, his mind was mush, he was being plowed within an inch of his life and he couldnt be happier. All too soon, without warning, Dennis finished, most of it landing on his own chest. That must have triggered Robby as Dennis felt the attending tense and his ass filled with cum too.

"Pull out, let it drip down him, he deserves to be covered in cum."

An unconscious whine left the younger man's mouth as Robby listened and left him feeling empty. Instead of responding to the whine, Robby listened to Jack telling him to go and clean himself up.

"Come here mouse"

On wobbly legs, Dennis also listened to the domineering man and balanced on Jack's thigh, not thinking about the cum that was still leaking out of him.

"Did you like fucking Daddys friend mouse?"

Sighing in contentment, Dennis leaned forward silently asking for a kiss which he was given and snuggled into the other man, knowing he wouldn't care about the bodily fluids, he would probably add to them in a minute too.

They're so … outraged, when they find him on the eighth floor. At first, he's ready to be scolded for doing something wrong, breaking the rules. He knows how this go. He'll take his licks. 

But the outrage isn't … directed at him? 

It's the fact that he's been up here, without asking for help. That he's been without a home for - God, he doesn't know how long by this point. 

"I can - I'll find a shelter," he promises them, because he really can't fuck up this rotation, not one day in. "Just don't tell, please." 

They share an incredulous glance. 

"You're coming home with us," Robby says, firm, no-nonsense. 

So he goes home with them. 

He tries to leave, at first. Work out some other arrangement, that won't have him fucking squattig in the married attendings' home. But he was on the eighth floor for a reason. There aren't a lot of other options. 

They refuse to let him go, anyway. 

"For God's sake, kid, we have the space, and we like having you here," Jack gripes, the twentieth time he tries to bring up finding someplace else to go. 

"Whit," Robby says softly, the thirtieth time he tries. "We're a couple of old queers, okay? We couldn't have kids. Let us just - enjoy it for a bit." 

And that has him flushing red. He's not their kid. He's not even a kid. He's a fully grown man, who has legal guardians, parents on paper. A 'couple of old queers' who love him a whole lot more than his real parents ever did. Treat him better. 

He stays. 

Nothing changes at work, which he appreciates. He gets to keep learning and growing, fulfilling the requirements of his degree. Helping people. He gets more and more comfortable, skilled enough to do things on his own. 

He wonders, is this what it feels like to have parents who believe in you? 

The two old men, though. They change. It's like they don't think he's capable of taking care of himself, which he damn well is. He's been taking care of himself for years. He put himself through med school, he turned his back on Nebraska, he worked his ass off while living on the streets. 

It's not like he's some helpless child. 

But Robby, he starts packing Dennis a lunch, alongside his own. They have the same reheated leftovers, but Dennis gets a treat in his. Some pastry, or freshly cut strawberries. Once, he included a note, and it reminded Dennis of things he's seen in movies. 

Good luck with your first day in psych, kid. 

Dennis kept the note. It lives in his bedside table. So do all the ones that keep coming, tucked away in his packed lunch. 

Jack finds out that he's never hit a baseball, and is outraged. Dennis tries to tell him - I played Little League, I'm not totally bereft of athleticism - but Jack will have none of it. 

He takes Dennis to a batting cage and insists on teaching him how to hit a damn ball, at least once. 

It feels … strange. It's fun, for sure. He hits the ball on the third try, and Jack's whoop of delight and pride fills him with pleasure. 

It's just. The man in the cage over, is with his son. His ten-year old son. 

"Guess they never get too old, huh?" he says to Jack with a grin, nodding at Dennis, who's trying to perfect his accuracy. 

Jack grins right back. 

"Never too old to smack a ball around with your old man," he says, and when Dennis steps back from the plate, ruffles his hair. 

He can feel his cheeks flaming. 

"What the fuck was that?" he hisses, when the man goes back to his son. 

Jack laughs. 

"Oh, settle. Just a little joke. You are my son, y'know, on paper," he says with a smirk. 

Dennis' stomach turns over, and he has to work not to have his fingers tremble on the bat. 

"On paper," he repeats, firm. "Not for real." 

"Well." 

Robby finds it hilarious when they're home and Jack has relayed the story. Traitor. 

And now, they won't drop it. They ruffle his hair more, all fatherly and affectionate. When he graduates, they're the ones cheering the loudest. He can hear Jack shout that's my boy, and he wants to fucking die. They put his diploma on the fridge with coloured magnets, and leave it there for months. 

The worst of it, though, is that they. will. not. stop. calling. him. son. 

"Son, grab me my leg, will you?" 

"Hey, nice work today, son, proud of you." 

"I swear to God, son, show some respect for your elders." 

He thinks he's going insane. 

It's not fair. They're crossing all his wires. He likes being cared for. He likes the open love they have for him. He even likes knowing they took on legal responsibility for him. 

But he also lays in bed, listening to the distant sound of moans from their bedroom, and touches himself. Every glimpse of bare skin, and there's a lot of in their apartment, is catalogued in his mind, and drives him fucking wild. 

He wants. 

But they're … off-limits, aren't they? They're his - weird father-like friends. 

He can't fuck the men who keep calling him son. 

It's drugs, that get him in the end. Of course. He's never been especially good at keeping shit together on anything harder than weed. Trinity gives him some molly when they're out celebrating her birthday, and damn, it hits hard. Like, really hard. 

He stumbles home, in an Uber that Javadi and McKay put him in, after he'd tried to tell a complete stranger that he loved his Dads, like sooooooo much. 

He's light-headed and a little dizzy, and it felt great earlier, he was so full of energy and love and light. Now, though, he's starting to feel kinda - bleh. 

When he makes it through the front door, they're sitting up, waiting for him. 

Jack raises a brow, at the state of him. 

"And what time do you call this, young man?" he jokes, mock-stern. 

It goes straight to Dennis' dick, and that distresses him even more. 

"I don't feel great," he mumbles, and then he's falling into Jack's arms, pathetic and small and coming down bad. 

"Oh, kiddo," Jack murmurs, rubbing circles over his back. "Went a little too hard, huh?" 

He nods against Jack's chest. Everything feels so much better here. Warmer. He feels safe in Jack's arms. 

"Well, I hope you've learned a valuable lesson," Robby says, and then he's on Dennis' other side, and how did he move that fast, maybe he's still kinda high. "Only take the drugs your fathers approve of." 

Jack snorts with laughter, but Dennis looks up, indignant. 

"You have to stop that!" he exclaims, all hot in the face and pissed off. 

"Stop what?" 

"This! That! The - father and son, and kiddo, and fucking - it's too much!" he bursts out. It's not the whole truth, and not coming out the way he wanted. "You're not my Dads." 

They have the audacity to actually look hurt. 

"Right," Robby says, a little tight. "We'll stop." 

It doesn't help. He feels just as weird and sad as before. 

He growls in frustration, and rolls his eyes. 

"You have to stop, because - " 

And he kisses Jack, the first time, the first kiss, hard. 

For a horrible second, he thinks Jack is going to push him off. He's not kissing back. But then, a strong arm wraps around his waist, and fuck. Now, he's being kissed back. 

"God, finally," he moans into Dennis' mouth. "We were starting to think you'd never get there." 

Dennis goes to retort, but Robby's hand catches his jaw and drags Dennis' mouth over to his own, licking into his mouth like he's starving for it. 

"This does not," Robby tells him between kisses. "Mean we have to stop, son." 

Dennis shudders, reverberating all the way through his body. Fuck. 

"Oh, see," Jack coos into his ear. "You like it, don't you? Hm? Like being taken care of, by your Dads?"

His only reply is a high, desperate moan. 

"I think we can take that as a yes, brother," Jack laughs, and goddamn it, that's got him twitching, too. 

He's so fucked up. 

"I don't - I don't know which I want more," he whines. Something inside him is breaking. He's going to have to choose between the two things that have brought him the most joy. 

"What do you mean, kid?" Robby asks, frowning, pulling back. 

"I like that you act like my Dads," he whimpers, a little embarrassed. "I - you're so good to me. And it's so nice, and I don't want it to stop. But I also really want to fuck you, and we can't do both, and - " 

He's cut off by a hand over his mouth. 

"Whoever said we can't do both?" Robby purrs. His heart thumps. "You're telling me you don't want your Dad to fuck you so hard you scream? Jack, he's telling me I'm not allowed to suck my little boy's cock." 

Jack's brow furrows, and he shakes his head. 

"I just don't know about these kids, Robby," he replies. His tone is dripping with condescension, and fuck, it snaps Dennis right out of the haze he's been in. "It's like they don't know why their Daddies even had them." 

 It's deranged, and obscene, and Dennis is leaking in his pants. 

"Oh, fuck, okay, please," he begs against Robby's hand. 

"Language," Jack scolds. 

Because patients were one thing, and they were predictable in their ebb and flow, if not their individual needs.

The ED was always full of a - frankly sometimes overwhelming - cacophony of noise and smells. There were the more obvious smells, the coppery tang of blood, fresh sweat, often urine and feaces - it didn't bother Dennis, really. Smells were just the environment telling him stories in little breezy puffs. He found them helpful, and would probably be distressed if there were absolutely no scents at all.

Some of them were a little different, though. He could never quite put it into words that his human...colleagues...could understand, but stress and panic, sadness and anger, they all had their own unique scents that layered on top of themselves and became downright insistent if they were allowed to fester by themselves.

And after Pittfest, it was like an entirely new layer of scents built up into a big fog that hung heavily in the corners of the ED. And when he wasn't with patients, Dennis considered it his sworn duty to seek out those sour little clouds wherever they started to sag over people's heads. He silently promised himself and everyone else that he would pop them all.

Usually, they didn't even realise their clouds were getting heavy. Didn't realise the tightness in their shoulders, the bite in their responses to each other, the trembling in their hands.

Dennis noticed. And Dennis was, he had been reliably informed, a snitch.

When Perlah and Princess were so worn down by it all that they even stopped talking to each other and simply darted about the pitt in tense silence, he would seek out Robby. Tug on his scrub top and nod in their direction, waiting patiently for him to see it.

"Okay. Yeah. Take five with them, okay?"

And Dennis would be all too happy to amble up to one or both of them, tug gently on their sleeves until they turned their attention on him, faces smoothing slightly into something more indulgent and relaxed.

"Dennis, honey. Are you okay?"

Dennis supposes he should probably be ashamed of how quickly his tail starts up when people talk to him like that.

"My tail's got tangles."

And that was how Robby found them a good 25 minutes later when he went for a coffee refill in the staff lounge. Sitting on the rickety old couch, Dennis squished between them, patiently allowing his perfectly-groomed tail to be adorned with tiny braids.

"Stop wiggling, Dennis!"

"You want them to be wonky?"

Dennis made that strange chuffing sound, tail still attempting to twitch happily between Princess and Perlah's fussing.

"I don't - I can't really control when it does that! I'm just...happy." Robby's chest starts to hurt a little bit, but that was nobody's business but his own. "It just does that. It'd be like you trying not to laugh when Robby gets stuck with the grumpy grandmas you put him with. And you're really bad at that!"

Dennis glanced up amidst the scandalised noises this provoked, and when their eyes met, Robby knew he was in trouble. Those big eyes brightened, and his tail began to wiggle more frantically in Princess' grasp

"Dr Robby!"

And how in the hell is anyone supposed to stay miserable around that? He feels his mouth tick up at the corners even though he can also feel Perlah and Princess glaring at him.

"Hey kid. You being helpful?"

"Well, he was."

"But now you've broken him, so congratulations, Captain."

Robby winces just a little when he sees that Dennis' tail has kicked up to a speed that can no longer be contained, and his little braids are all starting to shake out.

Dennis glances down, sees his pretty braids starting to slip. He glances at Princess and Perlah, eyes big and shining, lip between his little pin-sharp teeth.

"Oh - oh, I'm sorry! I -"

Perlah hushes him with a pat to the head as she stands.

"It's okay, Denny. It's not your fault."

For some reason, she stares at Robby as she says it.

And so it goes on. Dennis will keep his eyes on everyone, continues to alert Robby whenever he scents that particular cloud hanging too low over anyone's head.

Robby will send him to sit with Santos while she charts - because she will never allow herself to actually be taken somewhere quiet just for the sake of petting Dennis, which he tries not to be upset about. And he will patiently sit and allow her to poke and prod at his ears, doesn't even get offended when she realises she can gently fold them inside out, so they're pressed backwards against his head, pink sides up.

He doesn't even seem to get upset at how funny she finds it, leaning back and laughing that surprisingly melodic sound and not even hesitating to tell him how ridiculous he looks.

"Trinity!"

Robby watches Dennis' ears do their best to prick up happily at the sound of Javadi's reprobation.

"Oh, relax, Crash. He's fine with it! He's just a whore for ear pets, aren't you?" Another scandalised little sound from Javadi, another slow, contented blink from Dennis as Santos rubs the pink side of his turned out ear. "He doesn't care how he gets them."

Javadi looks at Dennis like he might either bite - ridiculous - or start to cry at any moment. When she's greeted only with a happy tail twitch and a tilt of his head nearer to her, she slowly approaches.

"Still." She grumbles in Santos' direction, reaching out to the ear nearest to her, gently folding it back the right way out, and then hesitantly continuing to pet while Santos' laugh burbles away in the background.

When Robby gently directs him to the ambulance bay whenever Dana heads out there slightly too quickly, Dennis will always trot happily after the woman. Who will inevitably curse when she sees him, and immediately put her cigarette out.

"Tell Robby this is the coward's way out. He wants me to quit smoking, he can come and get in a proper fight with me himself."

"He told me I was brave before he sent me out here. He also gave me treats."

"God, that man's a rat."

Robby isn't often around in the moment when Dr Abbot's scent clouds with that very particular smell of something heavy and dark. Like rich earth turning.

Dennis still gets a slightly squirmy feeling in his stomach when Abbot gets that scent, that stillness about him. He's so self-contained, so careful, and his face - usually surprisingly animated and always in motion, wrinkling at the corners with sparking mischief - goes so stony and still, that Dennis feels his ears go back appeasingly. His tail stays low, gives the occasional tiny, subdued wag as he wiggles he way closer to that closed-off body.

"Hey, kid."

Dennis likes Dr Abbot's voice. It's low and it's got a little hint of a growl at the back, but not the kind that makes Dennis' hackles rise. Sometimes, it makes him want to nudge the man until he puts down what he's doing and plays with Dennis.

They may only be out in the ambulance bay right now, rather than on the roof - Dr Robby told him to call if Jack goes up there when Robby's not around. Dr Abbot had snorted and called Robby a pot meeting a kettle - but now isn't the time for that.

Dennis is surprised when the man lifts an arm without looking in his direction. But he's definitely not the one to look a gift cuddle in the mouth, so he moves in quickly, before Dr Abbot changes his mind.

He wriggles into place, shoving his way beneath the arm, a little way into the armpit where it's warmest and smells the most of Dr Abbot, rather than just sadness and mild, thrumming panic. He feels Abbot's chest jerk a little with snorted, subdued laughter as he continues to burrow, wanting to find just the right place.

"Kid, I haven't showered in about 12 hours. I must be absolutely nasty right now."

Dennis huffs, leans more heavily into Dr Abbot. Why do these people never get it?

"I don't care about that. I don't know what it smells like to you, but all it smells like to me is you." Dennis sighs, content with the space he's managed to force himself into. "I just like to know you're here."

Dr Abbot makes a noise that Dennis thinks probably hurts.

"Jesus, kid."

"Dr Robby says he has nothing to do with this place."

Abbot's laughter chokes a little on its way out, breezes through Dennis' hair and over his ears in a tickly little gust that makes them twitch. The arm around Dennis tightens.

Robby's scent crests and dips throughout the day, like it's dancing to a tune that only it can hear. Frankly, Dennis doubts that Robby can hear it most of the time - whenever it plummets and crackles in the way that makes Dennis immediately want to seek out his touch, it seems to take Robby by surprise. Like he's as much a helpless hostage to its whims as a stranger on the street.

The thing is, when it gets particularly bad, when Dennis can smell it like lightning or fireworks before they explode (and seriously, can someone please tell the residents of Pittsburgh to go easy on the fireworks?) there's nobody he can really alert to at the point it's happening.

Robby will indulge him when he paws at his arm, will sling an arm around him or a hand on his neck, give him a little squeeze that seems to let just enough of that pressure out that he can carry on with his day. But it's nothing more than a tiny pinprick in a vast tanker of pressurised air, and Robby will almost never allow himself to actually stop and open the valve.

So Dennis? He has to wait.

He has to wait until the night shift clocks on, and until Robby is finished handing over to Dr Abbot.

Then, he has to wait until Robby isn't looking before he tugs at Abbot's wrist, until he has the man's attention, and then he can stare pointedly in Robby's direction.

Dr Abbot will always nod, sometimes he'll smile and wink at Dennis, in a way that makes something inside him settle, because Dr Abbot's got this.

Tonight, he glances to where Dennis has fixed his wavering blue eyes on Robby, and Abbot's face looks more like he's just been told he has to take all the 'foreign object' patients on the board.

"Stay here." He nods at Dennis, who wonders where else he would go.

He lets his attention drift just a little, but his hearing really is better than people account for, so he's able to pick up the occasional word from the... discussion that Abbot and Robby are having.

It sounds snippy, and Dennis does wonder if it's going to turn into one of their odd, snarling arguments that ends with them hugging and rubbing their heads against each other before they both storm off in opposite directions.

Instead -

"Mikey. Please."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Dennis just has time to wonder why Dr Abbot's scent takes a definite uptick into something brighter, when he's suddenly startled by a large, warm weight on his neck.

"Need a walk, kiddo?"

Dennis stares up at Robby, flicks his gaze behind him briefly to look for Abbot, see if there's going to be any context coming his way.

Abbot is nowhere to be seen, so Dennis can only cock his head at Robby.

"Jack said you'd been going a little stir-crazy. I'm, uh - I'm gonna go to the park for a few minutes before heading home. Want to come with, stretch your legs?"

And oh my god. Did Dennis want to go to the park? Did Dennis. Want to go to the park?

"Yes! Yes, I'm ready! I'm ready. Are you ready? Do you mean now? Can we go now?"

Dr Robby smiles - a real, actual smile, soft around the edges and with eye contact and everything - and claps a hand on Dennis' shoulder, steering him out of the ED in such a way that he doesn't trip over anyone in his anxiety to get to where they're going.

Dennis freaking loves the park. Sometimes the staff come here after a shift to hang out and drink a few beers, and they bring Dennis with them now, and it's honestly probably some of the happiest times in Dennis' memory.

Tonight is a little different. It's just him and Robby, and they take a meandering stroll - well, Robby meanders, Dennis weaves an energetic little trail around Robby and the trees and the bushes, following all the wild scents that criss-cross into delightful patterns. He never stays too far from Robby, always comes trotting back when the man clears his throat, because he remembers that it's dark and Robby can't smell him, so he needs to be close by so Robby knows he hasn't left him.

Eventually, they loop back around to some of the benches they usually sit on when they come here with the rest of the team.

Robby lowers himself into one with what he and Dr Abbot call 'old man grunts', and Dennis considers the seat next to him for a while, but then decides to fold himself onto the grass below him.

The grass isn't wet, but it's not dead or prickly. It still smells green and fat and full of all the small life wiggling underneath it, and Dennis loves it.

He leans back against Robby's legs, and when he feels the man's long fingers start to card through his hair and rub his ears, he allows himself the luxury of rubbing his face against Robby's knee.

"Jack told me you like to do that." There's a slightly rueful tone to his voice, and it's the only thing Dennis would change about this moment. He wishes Robby could just...let himself enjoy the little things. "Even when we must stink if blood and sweat and god knows what else."

Dennis allows a small, less than serious growl out of his chest. A harmless, puppy sound if anything, because he wasn't actually trying to start a fight.

"And I told Dr Abbot that I don't experience scents the way you do." He rubs his face extra hard against Robby's leg just to get the point across.

"I don't - it's not really a case of smells being good or bad to me. They're just...telling me things. It's telling me that you're here. And that's good."

Robby's breath hitches just the smallest amount, something that could have just been a breath caught by the breeze, except it wasn't. Dennis leans his whole body against Robby, hard.

"You're - you're good, Dr Robby."

"Shhh." A sigh, really, nothing more. And yet, Dennis gets the feeling that it had been hurting Robby, where it had been sitting in his chest.

It was the plan. Lucid Dennis even agreed to it, said it was a great plan to help cure his guarding.

Feral Dennis seemed to be on another wavelength.

“Drop it.” Jack sprayed Dennis in the face when his growls ramped up a little too much, when Dennis’s pupils turned into pinpricks against his watery blue eyes. “Dennis, no.” Dennis flinched away from the spray of water, whining as he dropped Jack’s wrist from his mouth and sneezed. He shouldn’t be this cute, he was a grown fucking man, but Dennis’s ferocious pout made Jack feel the tiniest twinge of guilt.

Dennis shook his head again, whining about the holy water irritating his eyes and nose as he sneezed again. Jack held out his arm, still oozing blood sluggishly, but this time Dennis turned his head away from him and slinked out of the room.

Jack knew exactly where he was going- to Robby, to whimper and look at him with the wettest puppy-dog eyes and get cuddled and cooed at. Undoing all of his work. Jack sighed and stepped out into the hall, watching Dennis walk over to Robby’s armchair and curl up on his lap with a huff.

Like clockwork, Robby’s hand came up to cradle Dennis’s head and coo softly to him, asking if he fed well for Jack. Dennis whined and nuzzled into Robby’s neck, prompting another round of soft reassurances and pets.