rockstar robby's fanbase who marvel at how he always steps out of his tour bus looking so refreshed and glowing and happy despite all the travel... how does he do it? even the biggest stars often look tired and slightly dishevelled.
unbeknownst to the screaming, cheering masses, robby has a fan much more special than them. he has a fan, sweet dennis, who is held numerous times daily face down, ass up in his tour bus bed, naked as the day he was born.
robby mounts him as they drive from venue to venue, fucking him so deep and cumming in him so much that his belly bulges, and the backstage all-access pass slung over the younger man's neck smacks against the stretched skin. all-access to the venue for dennis, all-access to dennis's body for robby.
it turns out that having someone to fuck every single day, someone who worships you and your music and your career, and will listen to your every command, is pretty beneficial to appearance and mood. robby is fresh at every tour date because his cock is still damp in his pants from stuffing dennis over and over and over just moments before.
while robby plays and sings and revels in the cheers of the crowd, dennis is usually drooling and floating, naked on the sofa of robby's dressing room with his cock soft and plump against his thigh, and ass clenching around nothing. hes ready to be filled. after all, the rockstar might want a quick round three before the encore... and dennis will always provide.
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dennis who lays in bed with his romance books on his kindle, squirming around and humping the bed at the detailed sex scenes until Robby climbs in behind him and he goes stock still.
"What are you reading baby?" Robby's wrapping himself around Dennis.
The younger boy is doing his best to not give himself away. "Just, um a book. Trin recommended it."
Robby leans closer, kissing the sensitive spot below Dennis’ ear, voice low and raspy,
I know Jack laughs into Dennis´ pussy when he starts whining about it being too much.
"p-ppleaaaaseee please I need a br-reaaak"
A muffled huff rumbles through his cunt.
"Aww, where´d all that fight go, little brat? Just earlier you were saying I was an old man with no stamina, yet here we are. All bark and no bite huh"
He gets more incoherent whining when he gets back to work.
jack and robby being together for so long before meeting dennis that they’re like a freaky type of in sync with each other.
robby helps jack into his prosthetic in the morning before the two share a little peck. they lean over to dennis at the same time and have to rock paper scissors to decide who gets to make out with him first.
the three of them are at the bathroom sink in the morning and the two of them spit at the same time, then hand off the same hair pomade and do the same number of passes through their hands.
jack skillfully cooks the eggs while robby tries not to burn the toast and they move around each other artfully, with precision. dennis just sits at the barstool and watches wistfully.
they pack dennis’ lunch with the same silent knowledge of each other; jack will grab the fun snack and robby will grab the veggie. The two draw matching smiley faces on a post it and stick it in top of the zip lock bag covering the sandwich robby cut into halves.
and the sex, god the sex. they don’t even need to speak to know when one should pull out and the other should start fucking dennis.
the two work as one to pleasure dennis, no need to stop and fix anything, one of them always tending to the others needs.
dennis has the best orgasms of his life with the pair after one long consent conversation and the power of their shared brains.
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spoiled dennis who gets his own makeup room when he moves in with jack and robby.
they see his pitiful zip lock bag with over-tired products past their expiration date and their hearts break.
the in home gym is gone immediately, not that anyone but jack really used it (bar the occasional roleplay).
the new vanity arrives with next day delivery and the makeup shopping spree is enough to bankrupt a lesser man.
the entire time dennis is flushed red, denying the older couple from putting something new in the cart and then growing warm in his tummy at being subsequently ignored.
the boy blooms in his new setup, trying more and more elaborate makeup looks all while perfecting his everyday style. he's happier than he's ever been, the weight of his hobby being hidden now lifted.
the new confidence infects the whole house in waves, dennis bringing his more feminine side into the bedroom and Jack and Robby quick to respond whenever they're called to.
the amount of times the trio have had filthy sex on the small couch in the makeup room is insane.
The older pair have been pavloved into getting hard whenever dennis calls them into the room to look at his latest makeup attempt.
they've taken to just throwing the pillowcases covered in mascara blush and lipstick into the trash instead of washing them.
jack and robby have been in a game of gay chicken since they met at a med school party sophomore year and now they own a home together and fuck raw every night. they told me.
robby stilled, fully seated in dennis. “wait, what?”
and, oh wow, that was embarrassing. dennis shoved his head into the pillow, so his words were a little muffled. “just ignore that, please.”
“no, what’s a knot in this context?” robby asked while running a hand up and down dennis’s side.
how does one explain to their fifty year old boyfriend that they read insane werewolf smut? how does one explain that they wanted to be bred but in, like, a fictional way? fuck, he shouldn’t have stayed up late to read that book last night.
dennis swallowed nervously, wiggling against the cock still in his ass. “it’s just-it’s just a thing from my books. it’s nothing, keep going.”
so robby did. he kept going. he fucked dennis so well he forgot all about his embarrassing admission. then, when dennis was asleep, robby went into the man’s backpack and opened his kindle.
robby poured over his library and it was full of titles like the alpha who loved me, an omega’s decision, the fated mates. robby opened one that seemed to be what dennis was currently reading. it was some of the filthiest shit he’d ever seen, and he’d read classic bodice rippers.
apparently a knot was when a dick got super big and basically locked the two partners together. there was an underlying sweetness to the perversion. dennis wanted to be mates in this fantastical way. he wanted to be physically tied for a period of time.
robby booted up his laptop to see what type of things were available for this. he’d knot dennis if that was what he wanted.
Dennis being lovingly put into a pull up or diaper after sex…. Holes all leaky….
Jack finally relents in his effort of overstimulating Dennis, pulling his fingers out of the boy's cunt easily. Denny lets out a shivery whine in response. Robby is laughing at him softly, moving towards the new pastel cabinet that sits next to the old wooden one.
"Okay sweetpea, I know you're ready to doze off from your orgasm but we gotta get you into your diaper first.”
“mhm-my diaper?” he’s mumbling, mind blown from the thorough ravaging he just experienced.
jack is allowing his boy to sit up just a bit now, rubbing on his thighs as he moves. “Yeah pup, we wouldn’t want you making a mess all over the house now would we?”
“I don’t make messes!” a little more awake now.
Jack walks his fingers up his legs to stimulate Dennis’ clit again and has the younger man twitching, his cum and Jack’s spit mixing together and dripping down mesmerizingly slow.
robby’s back with them, “i don’t know denny, your pussy is a bit of a mess. but don’t worry we’ll fix that right now won’t we?”
Jack is sticking his fingers in dennis’s hole now, blocking robby from doing anything productive.“Yeah, because good boys don’t make messes do they?”
“No i’m a good boy, I won’t make a mess.”
“No you won’t baby, not unless Daddy wants you to be messy.”
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Dennis always knew he would die. It was just a fact of life. He’d become used to the idea of mortality at a much younger age than the average person, sure, but he never found the thought unhealthy. Being exposed to death so young only made him that much more aware.
It was just… Dennis hoped he would die having accomplished more in his life. Not a theology degree and almost a doctor. Everything had to go downhill for him during his second-to-last rotation. He didn’t even have a place to call home which should hurt more than Dennis thought. The thing he really regretted, though, was not making more amends.
None of that mattered. What mattered was him staring down into the backpack that looked exactly like his, but instead of finding clothes and textbooks and his computer, he found bricks of drugs.
“Oh.” Dennis said meekly. The two men in front of him only laughed. Of course they did. They probably dealt with stuff like this all the time. Some random person messing up their trade. And now Dennis would have to pay for it.
“You cost us a pretty penny for…” the one on the left started. He had the gray hair, though the one on the right had flecks of white in his beard. “Shit, a couple of textbooks? Nothing that interesting… a few clothes, too.” Dennis failed to hold back the tears that were blurring his view of the bricks in the bag. It wouldn’t do anything.
“Yeah,” Dennis croaked. He didn’t know why he said anything, but he’d be dead soon anyway. It didn’t matter. “I don’t have anywhere to go so… it’s all in there.”
“Hm.” the man continued. “Aw. How cute, a sketchbook too. Basic anatomy book right next to the ratty thing. What, you an artist?”
“No.” Dennis said, voice flat even as more tears fell. He reached his hand in the bag and poked at the bricks. It was probably worth more than Dennis ever had. Enough to pay off his parent’s debt, maybe. “I wanted to be a doctor. I was gonna save lives or something.”
The sound of more of his belongings being pulled made Dennis glance up. Most of the stuff he really cared about had been left behind. Everything in that bag wasn't important. Well, they were, but Dennis didn't think trying to fight for any of the items to hold onto was worth it. He wiped his palm across his cheek.
The textbooks hit the desk first, then the laptop. They were all placed on the desk that stood between him and the men. Being dragged through the place had scared Dennis. In another life, he would have been in awe. He had been in awe. There had still been too much fear to properly appreciate the architecture. All he really processed was how much it must have cost.
When his clothes got thrown on the desk, Dennis choked. It sucked to see his whole life just laid out like that. Everything he owned fit in one bag with nothing to show for it but a steaming pile of debt. There would be no one to bury his body. He didn't have an emergency contact and it wasn't like his family would go looking for him.
"Only two pairs of scrubs?" the man on the right asked. Dennis nodded. If he spoke now, it would only turn into sobs. Might as well try to keep some of his dignity. "You don't even have night clothes in here."
"They--" Dennis sucked in a breath as more tears ran down his face and the sob broke free. It took a few more seconds to compose himself properly. If Dennis was delusional, he would have thought both the men seemed to pity him. "--They took up too much space. I sold them so I could have dinner."
Silence.
Nothing from either men was worse than them saying anything. Dennis curled around the backpack in his lap, sobbing into the thing. Of course it wasn't his. This backpack actually held up to being used as a stuffed animal. Dennis' would've ripped or made the already existing hole bigger as his nails dug into it. He didn't care about the nice cushion on the chair as he curled his legs up, too. If he could have at least one thing before he died, he would let himself have the comfort of finally crying.
Something scraped across the table and Dennis gasped as he looked up with wide eyes. He blinked fast and hard to see what the men had set down and--
Water. A glass of water. Dennis stared at it and heaved a deep breath.
"Small sips," Right said, "Came from this." He held up a fancy looking bottle of water. Dennis sniffed and looked between the glass the man held and the one in front of him. He reached forward with a shaking hand and listened. "Where are you doing your rotations?" Dennis took a few sips as he tried to get his breathing under control.
"The PTMC," he said. He set the water back on the desk. He had better control of his breathing now, if not the tears that were still pouring down his face. It probably looked pathetic to the two men, eyes red and puffy with his whole life in one bag. Dennis wished he had anything he could even beg for. "It's my emergency rotation. I don't... Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you that." Left hummed. Dennis sniffed and wiped under his nose with the back of his hand. He kept his gaze firmly away from their faces. If he looked this pathetic, he didn't want to see the disgust they held.
"Oh, um," Dennis sniffled again as he started unwrapping from the backpack. It took more effort than he'd like to admit to heft the thing onto the desk and shove it in the men's direction. "Sorry."
Another bout of silence before the two men started conversing. Dennis couldn't understand them. It took him a few seconds to recognize the language, not that it helped any. Hebrew. He had a theology professor who insisted they learn at least one prayer: The Shema. It was important to know someone's faith in order to best help them with their journey, his professor said.
"Not everyone you come across needing help will be of your faith. You must respect that." Dennis smiled at the memory. He muttered the prayer under his breath, brows furrowed together as he focused on the pronunciation. He didn't even hear the two men falter than stop as he spoke. When he finished, his tears were slower.
"You're Jewish?" Right asked. Dennis jumped, not expecting the question. He shook his head and pulled his legs back onto the chair. He still shivered despite his attempt to stop.
"I grew up Christian," he said, "I don't know what I am anymore."
"Huh." Left said. Then, there was the sound of the chairs scraping. Dennis squeezed his eyes shut and pulled himself into a tighter ball. "We'll be right back. We need to discuss something. Just stay right there, pup." A hand land in his curls and Dennis didn't know whether to pull away from the dangerous hand or press into the last soft touch he might ever receive. The sound of the door closing and locking came soon after.
Being left in the room meant Dennis could walk around. He thought he probably should. Give in to the short lived freedom he earned but he was just... so tired. How bad was this, really? Just because he didn't have anything to show for in life didn't mean finally resting would be all that bad. Dennis had hoped he would die of old age. That must not have been how he was meant to live.
Dennis stayed curled up on the chair, although he loosened a little. Let himself drift and sleep before the eternal slumber. He could do whatever he wanted and there would be no real consequence, so why not waste his last few hours napping?
The door opened again with a loud click and whoosh. Dennis didn't even bother opening his eyes. They could just deal with him here. Dennis didn't care anymore.
"Alright, here's the plan," Left said, "You're going into emergency medicine." Dennis' head whipped up at that. It hurt his neck a little, how fast he moved. The crust in his eyes from crying so much made it hard to see, but when he wiped it away, standing just behind the two men was Jesse van Horn. Dennis knew Jesse. Jesse worked at the hospital as a nurse.
"What..." Dennis rubbed one eye just to be sure. Still Jesse.
"Jesse will be your bodyguard," Right said, "And you won't say a word about any of this to anyone."
"Aren't you going to kill me?" Dennis blurted out. Not the best thing to say but it was all Dennis could think. He was supposed to be dead or on his way to being dead. Not... being assigned a nurse he talked to almost every day as his bodyguard.
"That was the plan," Left said, "New plan. You're our partner."
"I don't want to sell drugs." Dennis said. Dumb. Idiotic.
"No, not in that way."
"You're moved in, effective immediately," Right said, "Welcome home, motek."
i can't lie, the reason i love dumb, willing, eternally submissive puppy dennis so much is because i imagine he's never had a break in his entire life- he only made it out of broken bow due to his brain, his intelligence, his drive to be something more than stuck in the place he always has been. he only made it through medical school when he had no permanent housing because he never, ever stopped moving. moving, thinking, surviving. studying when he could, eating rarely but whenever he got the chance, the hunger keeping him sharp.
so when months pass, he joins PTMC and robby gives him this... proposal? opportunity? within their relationship, the chance to be his kept boy, his puppy... to be collared by him and let all his difficult, difficult decisions be passed on to him and to never have to worry about anything else ever again, he knows he should think about it longer than he does. but the part of him that's so, so tired of juggling three hundred things at once collapses into robby, into his warmth and safety and dominance. he says yes, of course. he'll be robby's puppy.
total submission, for dennis, is just what the doctor ordered (quite literally). he's robby's 24/7, that's their arrangement, his clothes under his scrubs are chosen by his owner, his meals are hand fed to him by robby whenever they aren't on shift, all his orgasms are given to him by the man, and every moment that they're at home, dennis has a thick leather collar buckled around his neck that pretty effectively shuts off all his thoughts. the collar means he belongs to his daddy, his owner, his robby, and that means that he doesn't have to worry about a single moment. robby will let him know exactly what he should be doing.
he spends his time at home naked as the day he was born, save for the collar and his puppy ears that robby so joyfully fastens into his curls, and lounges on the sofa, on the bed, kneels in between robby's legs just letting his owner fill his throat and mouth with his cock to settle him down. it's perfect, it's quiet, it's calm in his head. so calm, in fact, deep in puppyspace, that he doesn't think he remembers more than a few words. words aren't important anyway, they're scary things that are for serious people who have things to handle, and he's neither of those things. he's robby's dumb, dumb puppy. the collar says so! at least, that's what owner cooes at him. he can't read the words on that shiny golden tag, it's too hard for an empty puppy brain to grapple with.
it's so perfect- he's warm and healthy and well fed, and his skills in the hospital just get better and better as he's allowed to spend the remainder of his life resting, rather than grasping at straws to get through the week. he gets a day collar for his shifts too, just so there's no moment of the day where robby's touch and ownership isn't utterly clear to his boy. at the end of the day, he's always held so tight and fucked so well and reduced to a mush of barks and whines and yowls as the rest all slips away. he's a good boy, the best. robby praises every part of him, lulls him into sleep with a fat cock buried inside him, petting and petting and cooing nonstop.
these days, when dennis sleeps, there are no stresses or empty bellies holding him back and keeping him awake, there's nothing but a dim fuzz, and the soothing feel of his owners strong fingers massaging behind his ears, making him drool from relaxation. dumb little puppy dennis, how much better that name fitted him.
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autistic abbot but like he's always fidgeting and never knows where to put his hands, so it's great when he starts seeing dennis because, at least when he's home, he can just let his hands wander over his boyfriend's body when he gets antsy.
except that he gets so used to that that he forgets that he really shouldn't be doing it in front of other people. so when robby comes over on a night that jack has off to do a star wars rewatch party, jack drags dennis into his lap without even thinking about it. running his hands up under the hoodie dennis is wearing and squeezing his waist. toys with the waistband of his sweats. all while carrying a conversation with a robby that is suspiciously quiet.
dennis is just kind of frozen and has no idea what to do and is focusing all of his brain power on oh god please don't get a boner in front of your boss
need resident bottom dennis being forced to fuck robby and hating it the whole time because he’s the good boy that should be fucked. he is not built for fucking.
jack and robby are teasing him all while wiping his tears and telling him to fuck robby harder.
his dick is hard and achy but he hates the feeling of fucking someone, and he really hates having nothing in his ass.
he’s begging for a plug at least,
“or or nipple clamps, please daddy, anythinggg. can jack fuck me? or can I have a dildo pleasee? i’ll be such a good boy! i’ll-i’ll fuck you so good without even stopping again, I swear!”
he gets nothing, horribly fucks robby to an orgasm, and cries the whole time.
