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Robby is distracted throughout Abbot's hand-off until he introduces his final patient. "Lastly we have twenty-eight-year-old Dennis Whitaker. Bacterial pneumonia; responding well to treatment so far, but we're keeping him here until social work comes down. He was brought in off the street by a good samaritan. Unhoused, we think. He hasn't said enough to get confirmation but it looks like he's a little."
Robby blinks out of his daydream when Abbot says that name. Dennis Whitaker—could it really be? The patient in the bed looks thinner and weaker than the boy Robby had known, but he hadn't been unhoused then. Or had pneumonia.
"Dennis? Dennis, do you remember me?" He gently asks.
The boy in the bed cracks an eye open, then smiles behind the clear oxygen mask. "Wobby," he croaks.
Jack shifts in the doorway. "One of yours?" He asks Robby.
"Yeah. Yeah, from down at the rec centre. Hey, I missed you, bear cub. I always wondered what happened to you."
A few years ago, after COVID-19 lockdown measures eased, Robby began spending his free time as a volunteer caregiver to lonely littles in his local area. Some of them had lost their support systems as a result of the pandemic, others were simply new to the city and hadn't yet placed roots. Back then, Dennis hadn't talked about why he sought out the services of a volunteer caregiver, and Robby hadn't pushed him to. He washed Dennis, read to him, took him to the nearby park and pushed him on the swings, really truly built a bond with the boy—and then he'd vanished. Robby still occasionally goes to the rec centre on his days off. He likes to look after the littles. But he's never experienced a bond like the one he'd had with Dennis, and he'd always hoped that they'd someday be reunited.
Not like this, though.
At Abbot and their combined pack of students and interns, he barks, "Has a detailed history been taken? Has he had a HRCT? I want to rule out any chronic conditions. Send for a full panel, actually."
"Whoa. Brother. Cool it," Abbot responds. "Everything is fine. He's already been checked. Pneumonia aside, he's only a little malnourished and he's missing some vaccinations—but we're on top of that already. You can read his chart yourself. All that's left is social work, like I said. Take it down a notch." He shoos away the surrounding crowd, then comes close to say, "You can sit with him for a while if you want. I'll stay for an extra hour. Not like I've got anywhere else to be."
Robby scrubs his hand over his face. Dennis is—Dennis isn't his. Not really. He's just someone he helped during a period of apparent need. Right now, though, it seems he needs him again. On the bed, he shifts and coughs hoarsely. The great force of it twists his face in pain. Instinctually, he shushes him, murmurs, "It's okay. It's okay." Then he turns to Abbot and says, "I'll stay for a while, but come by if you need me."
Abbot claps his shoulder. "I won't," he responds honesty. "Take your time."
robby realizing way too late he’s been entirely too soft on dennis
they boy came into to the relationship with the mouth of a sailor and the older man thought it was the funniest thing at first but then dennis started cursing at him. at first, robby would just take it with a tsk and a soft tap on his ass but he could only handle dennis telling him to fuck off so many times.
dennis didn’t realize he had been walking on thin ice until one night robby had him folded into a pretzel, pounding into him at a ferocious pace as the boy was fucked within an inch of his life.
robby knew he was close as dennis clenched his ass around his cock, his moans going up a few octaves. he gave him one more deep thrust before pulling his cock all the way out, relishing in the surprised gasp it pulled from dennis.
“you fucker!”
the words rang around in robby’s ears for half a second, his body processing the words faster than his mind. his arm had raised itself a notch above their bodies before his hand came down across dennis’ cheek with a loud SMACK. robby ignored the yelp from the boy as he grabbed his cheeks to turn his head back to the proper position after the slap, pulling their faces closer together as his fingers dug into dennis’ jaw.
“maybe it’s my fault for being so nice to you, but you should know better than to curse at your daddy like that,” dennis just stared at him with wide eyes, cheek turning red from the impact. “if i ever hear you talk like that around me again, ill do you in much worse than a smack to the cheek.”
dennis still just stared up at the man, mouth falling open at the the pressure from robby’s fingers. “you understand me, pup?”
when dennis still laid frozen beneath him, robby took the liberty of using his hand to nod for him, muttering out a “yes, daddy, i’ll be good,” in a low and condescending voice.
robby finally removed his grasp from dennis’ face, a large white imprint taking the place of his hand. “good, puppy,” he told him with a soft tap to the cheek. he moved away from dennis’ body as the boy watched in confused and shocked silence, sitting down next to his body with his back against the headboard.
his red and leaking cock hit his stomach as he got comfortable, patting his thighs as he looked down at the laying boy.
“now i think it’s time to come tell your daddy you’re sorry, yeah?”
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Soap, who hates himself for being an Omega, has a very difficult relationship with his heat. After being rescued by Ghost from a failed mission, the skull-masked Alpha surprisingly agrees to spend his heat with him. But Soap wakes up alone after, left with a broken heart, a bad frostbite injury, and lots of gnawing questions.
“And then I’m gonna court you proper, alright?” That’s what Ghost had told him last night– or did he just imagine it? The doubt felt like a knife in Soaps stomach.
“Oh, dinnae lie tae me, Ghost. Ah’m a cripple omega. What use am Ah now, huh? Cannon fodder at best,” Johnny snapped, tears filling his eyes.
Ghost’s hand clasped around Johnny’s arm like an iron fist. “I trust you more than anyone, Johnny. Best man I’ve got out there.” Ghost swallowed. “Always have been.”
The genuineness and profoundness in his voice made Johnny really want to believe Ghost. But it was hard, so goddamn hard, to see his own purpose and value.
“Ye dinnae understand! Why the fuck would anybody let me back out there? My hands are fucked! Ah cannae even fuckin’ jack off.”
A beat.
Suddenly Johnny was very aware of the silence surrounding them, the quiet night, and the snow. Ghost’s eyes were stuck on his skin, like two burning bullets.
Another beat. Ghost's hand wrapped around his waist, his thumb pressing against the sensitive spot where his hip bone met his lower abdomen. Johnny did not move. He felt the warm pulsing of Ghost’s touch move through his body like waves.
Gently, Ghost pushed him back, guiding him into the shadow of the building, until Johnny’s back hit the cold wall. Ghost bent his upper body down until his face was close enough that he could sense the taller man’s breath through the mask.
His scent enclosed around him, heady and full of want, of need. Johnny’s breath hitched.
“Need some help with that, Sergeant?”
Ghost’s voice was laced with gasoline, dripping and hot and ready to burst into flames any second. Johnny felt the blood rising to his cheeks.
Suddenly, he was painfully conscious of his surroundings. The barracks, footsteps on the snow, shadowy figures moving afar.
Was anyone watching them?
He looked around, only for Ghost to catch his jaw, guiding his attention back to himself. His eyes looked unusually light in the white moonlight, almost glowing, and they zeroed in on Johnny, focusing solely on him while he removed his own gloves.
And Johnny’s own hyper awareness shifted to himself, to every single cell of his body.
Ghost’s fingers were slow and careful, listening to Johnny’s body reacting, leaving space for him to stop this, to reconsider this.
But he was confident in his touch, assuring Johnny that he knew what he was doing, that he was going to take care of him.
The metal sound of his belt unbuckling rang loud in Johnny’s ears, and irrationally, he hoped nobody had heard it.
Despite the biting cold, Ghost’s hands were warm against Johnny’s skin as they slipped under the waistband of his underwear, and it seemed like an eternity until his fingers reached his dick.
He was still soft in his pants, his heartbeat loud in his chest, and his palms sweaty. His mind raced nervously between the memories of their last time and the possibility of someone catching them out here.
For a moment, he was scared he would not be able to get hard. But when Ghost wrapped his warm hand firmly around him in the tight hug of his pants, his cock immediately started to swell.
Ghost let out a deep sigh, as if he was the one with a hand around his dick. He started slowly, fingers sizing up Johnny’s cock, exploring, as if to map him out.
“Ghost–“ Johnny looked around, paranoia mixing with the heat in his stomach, making his cunt twitch. “What if someone sees?”
“Got you covered, Sergeant,” Ghost said with a warm familiarity.
Ghost enclosed tightly around Johnny’s base, slowly stroking upwards. Heat sparked in Johnny’s lower abdomen, and he quietly let out a shuddering breath.
Ghost’s hand looked huge around his dick, even though he was quite impressive for an Omega, and in the sparse light Johnny could barely make out the bicep moving under his clothes.
Still, the sight of his Lieutenant’s broad arm working around him made Johnny's cock throb, precum gathering at the tip, and he felt hot slick pooling from his cunt.
Ghost wiped his thick thumb over it, smeared it across his dick, and pressed heavily into the sensitive spot between head and base.
Another drop of slick poured into Johnny’s underwear, and this time, his pheromones rose with them, fighting through the scent blockers and the scent patch on his neck.
Ghost caught it immediately, pupils dilating, big and round, and he picked up the pace, found his rhythm of steady, fast pumping.
“Fuck, I can smell how wet you are,” Ghost murmured lowly, crowding him, pulling him closer.
The lewd squelching sound filled the quiet of the night, the fapfapfap of Ghost mercilessly wrenching his cock. Tension built in Johnny’s body, his abs clenching, his body shuddering with every demanding stroke.
Fuck, so good. So good– !
***
Continued:
Chapter 4: I'll keep you warm / You'll never be cold again
I may of sent this before but my wifi was messed up so I don't know if it went through, but!!! Can you draw 141 doing communal shower antics and maybe if you'll be soooo kind to bless me with some gaz stuff just doing anything on duty love him in your style, keep creating😘
“And then I’m gonna court you proper, alright?” That’s what Ghost had told him last night– or did he just imagine it? The doubt felt like a knife in Soaps stomach.
Hey everyone! I finally finished chapter 4!! Let me know what you think– hope you enjoy it :)
Chapters: 4/5
Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish & Simon "Ghost" Riley Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Omega John "Soap" MacTavish, Alpha Simon "Ghost" Riley, Sub John "Soap" MacTavish, Dom Simon "Ghost" Riley, Dom/sub Undertones, Daddy Dom Simon "Ghost" Riley, Angst with a Happy Ending, heat - Freeform, John "Soap" MacTavish Has an Accent, John "Soap" MacTavish Needs A Hug, Trauma Recovery, Simon "Ghost" Riley Loves John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley is Bad At Feelings, there will be lots of angst then fluff and then they fuck (a lot), Slow Burn, John "Soap" MacTavish Has Self-Esteem Issues, Praise Kink, Sloppy Makeouts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut tags to be added, Sickfic, Whump, Semi-Public Sex, Public Hand Jobs
Summary:
Soap, who hates himself for being an Omega, has a very difficult relationship with his heat. After being rescued by Ghost from a failed mission, the skull-masked Alpha surprisingly agrees to spend his heat with him. But Soap wakes up alone after, left with a broken heart and a bad frostbite injury. Now his heat is approaching again, but the cold has become Soaps only companion.
Will Ghost be there for him to warm him up? ⬇️
Soap stood frozen in his corner, eyes glued to the man he had been searching for weeks. He knew now what Ghost felt like, how warm the nape of his neck was, how pillowy his chest was, how soft his muscles were. What Ghost smelled like, his tangy, sweet scent. What Ghost sounded like, how long twisted whines wrecked him when he came. What words dripped from his mouth like dark, sweet syrup, how he whispered “good boy”, and “omega” into his ear, burying his thick fingers in his cunt.
Ghost had seen him in his most guarded, intimate form: he had seen him as an Omega. He stood tense, heart hurting, because he knew that Ghost had been here on base the entire time, avoiding him. It could not be explained by something other than the sharp knife of rejection.
your prompt fills on ao3 are so fucking good i love the fauxcest… but what about bio son dennis who never knew his dad. and his new boss robby is so hot but he seems a little *too* familiar sometimes… not that that’s gonna stop him
(the wincest gave me the courage to send this thank you lmao)
dude, I'm so glad you got the courage up, hell fucking YEAH, let's tip this into the real thing.
So Dennis never knew his Dad, right? He grew up with just his Mom (sorry brothers, goodbye). An only child, and the apple of his Mom's eye. She did really well raising him as a single Mom. They're close. He loves her.
But he always wondered … what's my Dad like? He must be out there somewhere. His Mom never said he was dead or anything. He's just … not around. Not in the picture. There's one or two photos of his Mom in college with a man, but she won't talk about him.
In one of the photos, the man has his arm around his Mom, smiling. He's tall, and kind of skinny in a way, but so handsome. Dennis stares at the photos for a long time, wondering. Sometimes, he thinks he can see his eyes in this man's face. But then, sometimes he wonders if he's just looking for a father anywhere.
It would explain his propensity for fucking older men. He tried sex with boys his age, but - it just did nothing for him. But men twice his age? Men with crow's feet and grey hair, men who know exactly how to put him on his knees and bring him to sobbing orgasms, over and over? That's more his speed.
It's not a problem, until he starts his emergency rotation at PTMC.
When he told his Mom he was going to be a doctor, she'd gone a little … strange. Quiet, and emotional. He'd had to press her for approval, and when she finally gave it, it was teary.
"Just remind me so much - you're gonna be a great doctor, Den," she'd said, pulling him into her arms.
His attending is exactly his type. Like, mouth-wateringly his type. Dennis can't keep his eyes off the man. He's entranced. Robby walks around the ER like he owns it. Which, Dennis supposes, he does. He's so smart. And kind, but firm, and such a good teacher.
Dennis wants to be under him so goddamn bad.
Usually, he has no problem getting men into his bed. He's young, and pretty, and he knows it. He knows just how to bat his eyes, style himself, to get these older men to push him onto his knees.
Robby, though, is more of a challenge. The man looks at him sometimes sideways, with this expression that Dennis can't quite parse. It's like - he's searching Dennis for some kind of recognition. Like the look you give a stranger on the street who looks just like someone you know.
"Where'd you grow up?" Robby asks him one day, out of the blue.
Dennis blinks.
"Here," he says, honest. "My Mom and I lived in Mount Lebanon. She went to Pitt. Or, well, she dropped out when she got pregnant with me. But, yeah. Here."
Robby's face pales a little, and he nods.
"Right. Okay."
And just … walks away from him, without another word.
Weird.
Dennis half wonders if he's done something wrong. Robby avoids him from then on, only interacting when they work the same cases. He's the same excellent teacher, but there's no chit-chat. There's no more touches on his shoulders, no friendly banter.
He misses it.
He wants Robby so fucking badly, and he's determined to make it happen. Men don't usually say no to him.
When Robby actually joins them in the park for after-work drinks, months later, in the balmy summer evening, Dennis finally gets a chance.
"Big day, huh?" he asks, sitting beside the man and sipping from a bottle of beer. It had been, but no bigger than usual. A lot of heatstroke, a drowning.
Robby pauses for a long moment before he speaks again, leaning in so just the two of them can hear it. There's barely any space between them.
"What month's your birthday?" he asks.
Not the question Dennis was expecting.
"Uh," he says, surprised. "February. Why? Planning on throwing me a party?"
Robby's face twitches, and his hand grips around his beer tight.
"Jesus," he mutters under his breath, and his other hand wipes over his face. He breathes out a long sigh, and it sounds … resigned. "You wanna get outta here?"
Oh, shit. Dennis blinks up at him, shock and delight coursing through him. He barely had to try. He thought this was going so poorly.
"To … " he murmurs, keeping voice low, his eyes on Robby's face.
"Mine."
Robby looks a little haunted. That's not usually the way men look when they're about to take him home, but. Maybe he's caught up on the age gap of it all.
Dennis nods, eager, wrapping his lips around the neck of the bottle and finishing it in one long pull.
"Definitely."
It's not a long walk back to Robby's apartment. Dennis catches a raised eyebrow between the remaining staff, but he's too excited, too turned on, to worry about it.
The minute Robby has him inside, door closed, he's pushed Dennis up against the wall, hard. He makes a tiny squeak of surprise, and then their mouths have met, and fuck.
Robby tastes even better than he thought he might. Beer and cigarettes and man.
"Oh, fuck, wanted this since I fucking started," Dennis moans. Robby's hands have slid under his shirt and are steadily stripping him out of his clothes. "You're so fucking hot."
"I'm going to hell," Robby mutters. Okay, so he's one of those men who's going to get off on how young Dennis is. That's fine, he can work with that.
"You're not corrupting me," he purrs, moving to mirror Robby and strip him out of his shirt. "I know I'm young, but, trust me, I've done this plenty."
Robby growls, and picks him up, easy. He wraps his arms around the man's neck, and allows himself to be carried to the bed, laid out on his back.
"I don't want to hear about you fucking other men," Robby snarls. He's leaning over Dennis with dark eyes. Dennis looks up and …
They look familiar. Those eyes.
For just a second, his mind flashes to the photo of the young man and his mother.
They look - like the same eyes.
But surely not.
He pushes the thought aside.
"Sorry," he coos, leaning up for a kiss. "I can be all yours."
"You are mine," Robby rumbles, and then looks so ashamed of himself that Dennis honestly wonders whether maybe he shouldn't be fucking with his man's head like this.
He continues, anyway.
"All yours, Daddy," he purrs, batting his eyes. That line gets them all. No man is immune to a pretty young thing purring Daddy at them.
Except.
Robby pulls back, eyes wide and horrified.
"Dennis," he breathes. There's real terror in his voice. "You - you know?"
Taken aback, Dennis sits up slightly.
"Know what? It's okay, Robby, it's a pretty common kink," he murmurs, reaching out for the man's belly.
Robby flinches.
"Fuck, this is - "
He moves to leave, to take his hands off Dennis, and absolutely not.
Dennis lunges forward, dragging Robby back down onto him and grinding his hips up against Robby's.
"Fuck, kid," Robby swears, and then he's grinding right back down, harder, rougher. Dennis moans, and lets his wrists be pinned up above his head. "You have no fucking idea, do you?"
"Show me, then," Dennis whines.
Robby looks down at him, hungry. His mind flashes again.
This … is definitely the man from the photo.
Older, yeah. Bearded now, and greying just a touch. Bigger.
But Dennis grew up gazing at this man in a photo. With his mother.
This man he thought maybe might have been his father.
His breath catches in his throat.
"You - "
He can't speak. He swallows past the lump in his throat, and tries again.
"You wanted to know my birthday," he murmurs, very quiet. "Why?"
Robby pauses, before dropping his head and sucking one of Dennis' nipples between his teeth, nipping and suckling.
He gasps, back arching. Fuck, this feels so fucking good, and he's wanted it for so fucking long.
"R-Robby," he pants. "You gotta - you - "
The only thing the man does is slide a hand down between his legs and wrap his fingers around his cock, firm. Dennis gives up on trying to work anything out.
Whatever the fuck this is, whoever Robby is, Dennis wants him.
"So fucking beautiful," Robby moans, kissing all the way down his belly, lower and lower. "Mine. My boy."
Hot pleasure sparks in his gut, and when Robby's mouth closes hot and wet over his cock, he whines, bucking up without even meaning to.
Robby's hand on his hip holds him back down, hard.
"Ah," he scolds, pulling off his cock with a slick sound. "Be good for Daddy, and he'll make you cum."
It doesn't feel like all the times he's played this, with other men. Then, it's just fun. It's play.
Now, it feels terrifyingly, deliciously real.
"Oh, fuck, Daddy," he moans, his cock enveloped by the man's mouth once more, all the way back to his throat. "Oh, fuck, fuck, yeah, God, please."
Robby sucks like he's been doing it for decades. Maybe he has. Dennis would love to say he lasted longer, but he's spilling into the man's mouth embarrassingly fast, his toes curling so hard they cramp up.
Robby looks crazed when he finally pulls off and looks up at Dennis. Mouth swollen and slick with spit and cum.
"Say it again," he demands, voice rough.
Dennis is still hazy from the force of his orgasm.
"I - huh?"
Robby crawls up his body, covering it with his own entirely.
"Say it. Again. Call me - say what I am."
Oh.
Oh.
He meets Robby's eyes, feeling just a little wrecked.
"Dad," he whispers, and Robby moans low.
"Are you?"
No answer. Not in words, anyway, but Robby's tongue is licking into his mouth, tasting of him, and - God.
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thinking about little!den + rural hucklerobby again!
dennis riding in the passenger seat of robby's truck, window rolled down, grinning as the wind whips through his curls. he's got a stuffie with him, tucked in his arms— it's easier to stay small when he's cuddling something, and robby always helps him pick one out to bring along. what little friend do we want today, huh, pup? how about you choose one we haven't taken in a while? gotta give all your stuffies at least one adventure, sweetie. what do you think?
at a diner together, in the same booth so robby can keep dennis cuddled close, an arm around his shoulders. he orders for dennis, lets him stay quiet, shy when he's small. they sip milkshakes together and robby kisses his temple, calls him so cute. my boy. is your flavor good, bud? yeahhh, you made such a good choice.
robby reaching over to ruffle den's hair on the car ride home, making him giggle, glance over with sparkling eyes. robby loves seeing that expression, childlike and open, carefree. den's regression isn't always happy, and it doesn't need to be, but robby loves when it is. robby loves being able to make it something happy for him, make it safe.
robby and dennis sitting out on their porch swing to end the evening, watching the sunset, listening to the cicadas chirp. dennis slumped into robby's side, all sleepy-sweet, humming soft as robby rubs his side, drops a kiss to the top of those soft blond curls he loves so much. all tuckered out, huh? shh, that's okay, baby. papa's right here, I gotcha. there we go, get all comfy. my sweet boy. <3
something something dennis feeling down and somehow venting to Jack one lonely night shift about how he's been basically hunting old man robby for sport but he can't get him to break. and that just makes dennis want him more becuase he's obviously a man of principle and respects dennis way too much to risk doing something inappropriate like getting ridden to death by a young doctor he trained
cut to shit-stirrer jack chuckling smugly and telling dennis about young robby getting his guts rearranged by his own 6"1 attending as an intern back in Chicago...the guy's name was Peter B..something. Benton maybe.
right so this is fucking genius
Dennis learning that Robby's a chronic, habitual slut with a competency kink. A total service sub switch who only wants to please whoever he's in bed with. Because Jack just so happens to know how good Robby can take it before rolling over and giving it right back.
So Dennis just has to impress him. Get Robby to move from a pat on the back and a job well done to a handjob or a quickie or an invitation to his bed.
Robby suddenly has an intern who's using those bright bottom eyes on him and wow was he that much of a slut when he was an intern? (Yes, Jack tells him boredly and you were actually worse)
something something Robby decides he needs to teach his intern not to look so fucking desperate, "It's unprofessional, kid, you can't be looking at me like you're thinking about how to suck my dick later when you're in the middle of presenting a case" while he's facefucking Dennis, voice casual and calm, but internally going jesus christ his mouth is going to kill me, do not cum down his throat yet, be an adult, Robinavitch
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