puppy-boy-whitaker

The first time it happens, it was an accident.

It was a long shift, but then again, which shift wasn’t in their job? And it had been a while since they had some time for just the two of us, so they decide to go out for dinner. The place they end up is far enough from both the hospital and Robby’s place, so they won’t be recognized by anyone, but still close enough that Robby doesn’t have to drive too much after work.

They find a spot near the back, closer to a window and tucked away from the door, just like Dennis likes. Robby left his glasses back at the Pitt, but he’s too stubborn to let Dennis read it to him, so he’s still looking through the menu, when the waitress comes to their table to take their order. She seems to take one look at Robby’s narrowed eyes and well-humored grumbling, just as Dennis stares at him with a soft smirk on his face—the brat—, and she reaches her own conclusions.

“Ow, is your dad taking you out, hun?” She asks, causing Robby choke on his own spit and making Dennis' smile falter as his cheeks blush. “No need to feel embarrassed. It’s good to see a father taking care of his son.”

Unfortunately, Dennis seems to recover from the shock faster than Robby, because the younger man turns back towards Robby, their legs tangling beneath the table, and flashes a smile that screams danger. “Yeah, my dad’s so good to me. I’m so lucky.”

Robby doesn’t mention how hot under his scrubs that single word makes him feel, and Dennis doesn’t bring it up for the rest of their date, and later that night, when they’ve finally gone home and fall together into bed, Robby has him whining against the mattress, moaning and screaming for his daddy—not his dad, never that.

But Robby can’t stop thinking about it, even long after that night is gone. He had known ever since they started dating that he was older than Dennis, hard not to notice the obvious gap between them, but it was something his younger partner had never complained about, something he had even admitted to enjoy, and Robby chose to not pay it too much attention, for his own mental health. However, it’s clear now to him what they would look like from an outside perspective, and the worst part is that he’s old enough to be Dennis’ actual father.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy for Dennis to call him daddy in bed. They hadn’t talked about that either, and despite Robby’s previous experience it wasn’t something he had explored too much either, but the moment Dennis had whimpered that word as Robby ate him out, they both realized they liked it a bit too much, so it had stuck.

Now, whenever they go out, Robby will wonder if the strangers on the street will see them holding hands, and whether they will think of them as a couple with a big age gap, or a father still taking care of his son—and he tries not to think about why that doesn’t bother him as much as it should.

And Dennis, the little brat, of course notices. He first did at the dinner, and every other time he reminded Robby of how young he was when compared to him, like telling Robby how he liked to have a boy half his age on his knees for him, or casually mentioning how he wasn’t even born when Robby had been in med school.

The problem was when that carried over to the ER. It was an open secret around the hospital that they were together, or at least an ongoing and lucrative bet, but they still tried to keep it low at work. However, Robby, the permanent bachelor and allergic to commitment, seemed to have a hard time keeping up the act around Dennis, and he was always nagging the younger man to take care of himself.

It had been a slow shift, or as slow as it can be in there anyways, and Robby had taken it as his change to remind Dennis of taking a break and eating something. He can’t have his best intern running on fumes for the next seven or so hours, right? But when he had approached the other doctor, Dennis’ favorite protein bar in his hand, the younger man had laughed through his nose and good-naturally rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, dad.”

That word isn’t a problem by itself. Robby had been working at the ER for too long already, and he was aware he had some sort of… paternal light to him—something he couldn’t quite understand, but Dennis wouldn’t be the first person to call him dad here.

The thing, however, was that it usually happened by mistake, a mix of a chaotic pace everybody scrambled to follow and the sleep deprivation that hounded every healthcare worker, and it always ended with the younger one apologizing profusely. Hell, he’s sure even Langdon did at some point.

But Dennis isn’t doing it as a mistake that can be brushed off easily, they’ve been dating long enough that Robby can see the difference; no, he’s doing it just to tease Robby. So before he can leave and eat his protein bar in peace, Robby stops him with a hand over his shoulder. It’s not that unusual for him to touch Dennis, everyone got used to it after the first shift, but after getting together that had changed—no more casual touches that could be misinterpreted, nothing more than a casual fist bump or fingers brushing as they traded things between a trauma, yet now, with the heavy hand squeezing into the soft muscle of his shoulder, Dennis knows he’s in trouble.

“A word in my office, Whitaker?”

Robby doesn’t leave room for arguments, already moving Dennis’ body through the busy hallways of the ER and towards his secluded and often forgotten office. Robby used to spend a few more hours there after every shift, once Jack got sick of his face and told him to go home, but he never liked to spend his nights alone, so he busied himself with paperwork. After Dennis, is easier to leave this job in time, because he knows there will be someone waiting for him afterwards.

He doesn’t let those soft feelings get in the way as he closes the door behind them. Dennis turns to look at him, eyes big and just a little bit wet, cheeks flushed and lips parted, as if he already knew what was going to happen.

“Robby…”

“Ah-ah,” the older man interrupts him, the hand on Dennis’ shoulder moves towards his face, gripping at the sides to turn him towards Robby. “That’s not how you talk to me, isn’t that right?”

Dennis’ eyebrows furrow for a moment, and Robby can’t tell if he’s being genuinely oblivious or faking it just so the punishment will be worse. “…Daddy?”

Robby sighs, “c’mon, sweetheart, you know better than that.” Dennis’ gaze turn unfocused, the same way he does whenever Robby manhandles him too much in the bedroom, leaving both mind and body into his hands. “You have been teasing dad all week, haven’t you?”

He finally stops holding Dennis’ face, leaving the younger man standing alone as he rounds the desk in the middle of the room and sits behind it. Dennis keeps track of him, swallowing heavily when Robby spreads his legs. “Sorry, dad.”

but... there's like. no point to this. the people who hate the show will think I don't hate it enough. the people who like the show will blanch at criticism. discourse stresses me out. I don't have to "prove" to anybody that I can find fault in media. I should be allowed to just... enjoy the media. the pitt is a good show. I happen to, y'know, be a big fan of it. I shouldn't have to defend my enjoyment of it at every turn or make it clear that I realize there's critique to be had.

it was a joke. he would go to his grave swearing it was a joke.

he called robby daddy, and that felt pretty normal, so when father’s day came around, it was funny to get a little gag gift.

that fucking world’s best dad mug was ruining dennis’s life. robby used it at work, washing and packing it into his bag to bring it home on his days off. dennis would present a case, and he’d have to watch robby take a sip. he’d wake up, and robby would be making his second cup. robby always had this little smirk on his face anytime it was talked about too.

questions about who got it for him were clumsily batted away, leaving people to side eye them both. or worse, when robby jokingly used the moniker on the mug. would you mind getting your dear old dad his coffee? or with a slight moan often taking a sip, dad’s favorite.

dennis called robby daddy. that felt normal for whatever reason, but dad…

dad got him hard in his pajama pants while he stood in the kitchen making robby more coffee. dennis resisted calling robby that name every time he handed the mug back. here you go, dad, was on the tip of his tongue every single time.

breakfast in bed, of all things, was dennis’s undoing. robby had woken him up a full tray of pancakes sausages, juice, and coffee. they ate leisurely, and when robby slipped down the bed to eat dennis out, he set that stupid fucking mug on the nightstand with the lettering facing dennis.

dennis watched in the beginning as robby licked and nuzzled at him. when robby started sucking and making all those lewd noises, dennis had to look away to the side.

he had to look at the mug.

well, he didn’t have to, but his eyes were fixed on it. world’s best dad. dad. dad. dad.

robby’s teeth scraped against dennis’s clit. he grinded his hips and whined out, “fuck, dad.”

it was so obviously not the word daddy. the ending consonant was resolute. dennis immediately covered his face out of embarrassment.

robby smirked. dennis could feel it, his lips were so close. dennis had to shiver as he felt the words whispered into his wet heat, “dad’s making you feel good, huh?”

dennis clenched. it must’ve been obvious the way robby knowingly chuckled.

its found by accident, of course. they find the answer after a long round of vigorous and intense sex, with robby filling dennis to bursting with cum and hammering against the youngers prostate until he was crying and screaming and collapsing, boneless. dennis passes out on the bed, robby still buried deep inside his belly and keeping them connected.

robby spoons his boy, not wanting to disturb his rest by pulling his cock out of his ass and making it gape uncomfortably. he cuddles dennis over his chest and settles down carefully, enjoying the continued heat around his dick. he decides to wait until dennis inevitably wakes up from one of his nightmares, and then he'll tuck his baby up to sleep properly.

except, dennis doesn't wake up. he doesn't sweat or tremble or whimper, and his eyes don't flutter open. he just sleeps, dead to the world and breathing calmly, happy to be tucked up close to robby and anchored so clearly to the other man. robby eventually gives up his former plan, and goes to sleep too, cock unmoved from where it was wedged in his boy's ass. they both get a full nine hours.

in the morning, there's a conversation. it ends up with dennis somewhat embarrased, but ultimately willing to try a new arrangement. from that night onwards, this is how they sleep. it works a treat- dennis with robby's cock in his ass, keeping him settled. if he gets nervous in his sleep, all he has to do is clench down and he'll find a fat and comfortable tether to safety. robby inside him, and dennis safe and sound.

More naps ♡

Dennis trying to drunk text Trinity he’s lost after a night out with some old friends, but instead accidentally texts Jack who’s currently asleep for once bc the J looked like a T and instead Robby is awake and sees the text

Robby wakes Jack up super concerned and texts Dennis for his location to then they pick up a very wasted Dennis

Dennis ends up blabbering about how this must be a dream because his super hot dilf attendings are picking him up and he has to tell Trinity about this and hopes it turns into a wet dream

Jack and Robby find this flattering yet hilarious. They eventually make it back to Trinity and Dennis’ apartment to see Trinity’s bed room door wide open and loud snoring coming from it and seeing Garcia in the kitchen in a tank and some boxers.

Garcia gives Robby and Jack an eyebrow raise but just shrugs and walks off back into Trinity’s room where she closes the door.

Jack and Robby drag Dennis into his bedroom to where they tuck in the now half asleep drunk boy and give him a kiss on the forehead goodnight and leave while Dennis whines for them to stay.