#bambiwrites

And Robby always indulged him without complaint. He knew the man liked it, being watched or seen or both. He’d jerked off right next to Dennis enough times either in bed or on his couch for him to know, his voyeurism knowing no bounds and Dennis kinda loved it. It was something he hadn’t expected himself to be into — watching Robby’s large hand wrap around himself, stroking base to tip, watching Dennis watch him. It was filthy, really. It made him hot all over to see it.

But, the pictures. Robby would pull his dick out whenever Dennis wanted him to, hard or soft, and take a picture of it. Dennis didn’t dare save them, knowing Trinity had a habit of borrowing his phone to google random things whenever they were talking or watching tv and she needed to fact check something or wanted to send a photo to herself.

He would never live it down.

So, he’d admire the picture and blush and want and then he’d delete it from their text thread. No harm done.

Robby didn’t even ask for him to reciprocate, but Dennis had a feeling that maybe Robby wished he would.

Which is where he’s at now, in his bed, hard in his boxers, with his conversation with Robby open on his phone just after midnight. There’s a picture of Robby’s heavy cock just sent to him, along with a voice note telling him exactly what Robby wants to do to him tomorrow, and he’s throbbing in his own hand, the tip of his dick sticky with pre.

He decides that tonight he’ll do it. He’ll send Robby a picture.

He keeps the salt lamp he thrifted on, casting a soft orange glow beside him. He’s got himself in his hand, the camera tucked near his chin, angled down, his sleep shirt pulled up.

And he feels stupid.

It doesn’t look good, like Robby’s. Almost comical. Like every other dude on Grindr before he’d deleted the app, a day after he and Robby went on their first real date.

Huffing, he sets his phone down and pulls his shorts up, ready to give up, but it slips from his fingers and the band snaps down, pinning his cock to his lower belly with a soft sound.

It makes him tense and hiss a little in pain and a bit of pleasure, glancing down at himself — and pausing.

Despite his frustration and embarrassment, he kinda likes the way the wet tip of his cock is tucked under the waistband of his boxers, peeking out. It’s not super obvious, more of a tease — and that’s when he picks his phone up again.

He pushes the bottom of his shirt down a little, letting a strip of pale skin of his abdomen show, rubbing a fingertip against the underside of his tip to push a little more pre out before he’s angling his camera.

In the quiet of his room, his camera silently clicks, and then he’s sending it off.

He bites his lip as he waits, his stomach twisting. Will Robby like it? Will he be underwhelmed? Maybe he’ll want more, and that thought is just a little overwhelming but kinda in a good way, makes his stomach twist in arousal—

His phone buzzes, Robby text back.

Dennis’ stomach twists again as he sees the voice note, his thumb hovering over the ‘play’ button for a second before he presses it.

Robby’s voice is low, how it always goes whenever he’s got Dennis in his bed, and he’s a little breathless as he speaks over the sound of what is probably the wet sound of lube on his cock, “Fuck, baby, you’re driving me crazy…” Robby groans softly, “You take that pretty picture just for me, hm? You almost got me licking my phone,” he chuckles quietly, breathless still, although he moans again, “Makes me wanna go over there and pull those shorts down, get my mouth on you and suck that pretty cock until you’re begging me to let you cum down my throat…”

There’s a pause, the wet sound of Robby’s fist speeding up, and Dennis’ mouth is dry.

Robby continues, “Be a good boy and let me hear you cum, yeah? Wanna hear you say my name when you do…” he sighs, like he’s trying to hold off his own pleasure, and then the voice note is over and it makes Dennis squirm.

He’s done it before, many times, but he feels bolder now — with Robby’s enthusiastic response to his picture.

So, he opens his camera again, but puts it from photo to video and presses ‘record’.

He feels his pulse racing in his neck as he records himself, his free hand trailing a fingertip down his chest and stomach, moaning quietly as he thumbs at the wet tip of his dick still peaking out of his shorts, pulling it away just enough for Robby to see the little clear string of pre before he’s rubbing against the slit with another soft sound.

“Wanna cum like this,” he breathes, his eyelids flickering with pleasure as he watches his hand through his camera, his fingers stroking along his shaft over the fabric of the shorts, his thumb still rubbing little circles on the tip, feeling himself getting so worked up already as he quietly whines, “Want your hands on me, wish you were here, want your mouth, sir, please…”

He feels pent up, suddenly. There’s something about the entire thing that’s bringing him to the edge much quicker, like he can’t wait to see Robby’s response to this, making him impatient.

“Fuck, I wanna cum,” he whines, his brows pinching and jaw dropping as he taps at the wet tip with his thumb, so sensitive now, his breath punching out of him at the same time, his body tensing and tensing as he watches himself, feeling his balls draw up as he keens, “Robby, Robby—fuck—”

His hips twitch up as he pulls his hand away, his breath coming out in ragged little pants as he watches himself cum all over his stomach and shirt, his torso quivering as he rides the waves of pleasure washing over him.

And because he knows it drives Robby crazy, and he’s a little high from it all, he lazily draws his fingertips across his belly, through his cum, and offers it to the camera with a quiet almost-giggle before he stops recording. If Robby were here, he’d suck his fingers clean before tonguing over his stomach.

Before he gets too self-conscious, he sends it, biting the inside of his cheek as he clicks his phone shut and waits.

He wipes his mess with his shirt and tosses it in the direction of his laundry basket, knowing he’ll have to do it tomorrow before Trinity gets home.

And then his phone is buzzing again, although this time Robby’s calling him.

His stomach twists as he answers it, holding it up to his ear with a quiet, “Hi…”

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard as I did just now,” Robby hums, his voice tinged with amusement and sleepiness. He always gets tired afterward, something Dennis teases him about sometimes.

The admission makes him smile, though, shyly asking, “Yeah? You liked it?”

“Loved it, actually,” Robby chuckles in disbelief, “Hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t even stand a chance, didn’t get a picture or anything, just…came all over my hand.”

He swears he’s floating from how pleased he is, grinning to himself as he holds his phone to his ear, “I was actually nervous as hell, y’know.”

Robby huffs at that, in fond disbelief, “Fooled me.”

“Yeah, well…you like to make me realize things about myself,” Dennis mutters, his grin softened into a smile.

“Things like you enjoy touching yourself and sending it to me as a video?” Robby chuckles.

“Yeah, ‘cause I know you’re a perverted old man,” Dennis teases, his voice soft, knowing how that affects Robby.

It works like a charm; Robby groans, like he does whenever Dennis cups him through his scrubs after work, and tells him, “Enough, this old man is spent. Tell me goodnight.”

It makes Dennis grin again, saying sweetly, “Goodnight, sir.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it tomorrow,” Robby promises lowly, sending an excited thrill through Dennis before he’s humming, “Goodnight, baby. Dream of me.”

“Always do,” he responds quietly with a tired smile before the call is over, wishing he could fall asleep curled up against Robby’s side but he knows he can tomorrow.

If it was true, Robby would break things off in a couple weeks, and then what? Awkwardly move around Dennis? He’d just started his residency, for fuck’s sake.

And maybe he was too naive, or too forgiving, but…he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at Robby. Sure, he could be, but it was so hard to be mad when he was being treated so well. And if Robby needed this temporary feeling, Dennis’ affections and body, well…he must’ve really needed it. He was a lonely man, after all. And so was Dennis.

His decision was probably stupid. He decided to just enjoy the time he had with the older man, continuing to act the way he had when he’d go over to Robby’s for dinner or sex or both. It hurt to think about it, how fleeting each moment felt after hiding decision, and he knew he should probably stop it before Robby did but it was just so damn good. To be held, to be listened to, to be cared for in a way he never had been.

But, he put up that wall between them, on the sixth week. He stopped holding Robby’s hand while they watched movies, stopped kissing him goodbye when he left, stopped telling him about his life back home. It was cruel, maybe, but Dennis knew what was coming.

And it did. On the 7th week.

“I’m sorry, I just…can’t.”

A pathetic excuse, but Dennis gave Robby a tight smile and a nod, sighing, “Yeah, sure. We can just…go back to how it used to be, right, Dr. Robby?”

There was a look in Robby’s eyes at that, like something shifted, but his face remained the same. Closed off, ashamed.

Dennis gave him a nod before ducking out of his house and back to his and Trinity’s.

And the next day at work, it was like nothing had happened. Except maybe Dennis was kinda dying a little inside, already craving Robby’s heavy hand on his thigh or his lips against his neck, but. He knew what he had gotten himself into.

Robby, for the most part, kept it professional. He was a little stunted, like he couldn’t really find his balance, especially when Dennis was in the room. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even look him in the eye or he’d full on leave, muttering something about a patient or test result or whatever was more convenient.

And Dennis didn’t know why. Robby was the one to call it off, right? Why was he the one acting like he’d been dumped?

So, Dennis doubled down. He wanted Robby to know that he was fine, that there was no reason to be weird or awkward around him. He greeted Robby with a bright smile every morning, like he used to. He got his boss a cup of coffee from the break room before rounds, like he used to. He even found himself leaning into Robby’s space, hoping to feel a steadying hand on his arm or a guiding palm on his shoulder blade.

But, there was nothing.

If anything, it made Robby worse.

He was pissy, snapping more frequently, barking orders at his students until Dana was snapping back and taking him outside to the ambulance bay to calm down.

“Wonder what crawled up his ass and died,” Trinity huffed as she scanned her badge at the station where Dennis stood, watching the ambulance bay entrance. From here, he can see Robby and Dana talking.

“Maybe a rat,” he sighed, frustrated because weren’t things supposed to be back to normal by now? It was two weeks since they’d stopped seeing each other.

“Maybe you can reach up there and grab it for him?” Trinity smirked, typing away at her charts.

“I doubt that’ll help,” he muttered, watching the pair come back in, and when Robby’s eyes met his, Dennis smiled warmly.

Which made Robby’s jaw clench, his gaze snapping away from him as he continued down the hall to the lockers.

And that’s when he decided enough was enough.

Leaving Trinity’s side, he followed Robby down the hall, finding the older man opening up his locker and rifling through it in clear annoyance.

Not really thinking, he stopped a couple feet away from Robby and asked, “So, what’s the problem?”

Robby stopped, his expression dropping into what might be annoyance or disbelief or a combination of the two upon hearing his voice. His voice tense, Robby replied simply, “Nothing.”

“I think I deserve a little more than that,” Dennis frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, “You’ve been in a piss poor mood for the past two weeks and if it has anything to do with what I think it does, you need to grow up and get over it.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Not only because of how inappropriate it is for where they are, but because Robby’s face lights up with poorly controlled fury, his dark eyes flicking over to him and fixing on him so intensely it almost makes him want to back off.

But, he doesn’t. He knows Robby’s moods. How he gets. Instead, he clenches his jaw and stares back.

“Get over it, like you have?” Robby finally says, his voice dripping with heat, picking a fight.

Dennis’ eyebrows lift, because what? “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Robby says lowly, stepping away from his open locker and over to Dennis, stopping until he’s just inches away and staring down at him. His eyes are dark, his brow furrowed with anger, his mouth twisting with words unsaid.

And Dennis, with his arms crossed over his chest, furrows his own brow up at him, his voice quiet and calm, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“Nice? Is that what you’re calling it?” Robby grumbles, his nose scrunching in distaste, “You know what you’re doing, Dennis.”

His jaws drops in disbelief, a soft little scoff leaving his chest as he does, “Dr. Robby, I promise you—”

“—ah! See! There it is,” Robby frowns deeper, “That, Dr. Whitaker, is what I’m talking about.”

Okay. Dennis is confused. He scrunches his face to show just how confused he is, asking, “You’re mad that I’m calling you by your name that literally everyone else calls you?”

Robby looks like he wants to put his own head through a locker, he’s so frustrated, but instead of doing that, he hisses, “No,” and takes a deep, probably not calming, breath before he drags his hands down his face and rubs at his beard.

Dennis is quiet, patient. Waiting. Staring up at Robby with his wide blue eyes, flicking his stare across that handsomely troubled face until Robby’s eyes meet his and then they’re standing there, staring at each other.

And that look from two weeks earlier is back in Robby’s eyes, the cracks in the surface showing Dennis glimpses of the lonely man underneath.

Quietly, nearly a whisper, Robby admits, “I can’t get you out of my head.”

Time stops for a moment.

“And I know I’m the one that broke it off, I know I can’t say shit, but you have been driving me fucking insane ever since that first day back. You bring me coffee, you always ask me if you can join an incoming trauma, you fucking smile at me like you’re the sun personified and you’re always in my fucking space so I know you’re doing it to get back at me for breaking things off.”

There’s silence, again. The sound of the ED is almost background noise now.

Dennis was oh so wrong about things.

Robby does look close to losing his mind now, his eyes wild and hair askew, searching for any sort of tell on Dennis’ face so he could feel vindicated.

“So,” Dennis starts, quietly and slowly, glancing down at Robby’s neck, where he’s eye-level, “You think I’m torturing you for breaking up with me by…doing the things I’ve always done…?”

He said it slowly, not to be condescending, but to understand.

And then Robby’s expression is melting, realizing how wrong he’d been about it all. About Dennis.

“Robby, I…” he flicked his gaze back up to the older man, taking in his open expression, how confused and hurt and disappointed he looks. Licking his lips, Dennis mutters, “I wouldn’t do that to you. And you know that.”

“I know, I do,” Robby whispers, looking rather ashamed now, “I just…fuck, kid, I don’t know. I was losing my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left my place and then the next day you were acting fine, like the last couple of weeks meant nothing to you—”

Dennis frowned and stepped closer to the other, staring up at him with a set jaw, “Those weeks I spent with you were everything, Robby, I just…” he closed his mouth and moved it around, trying to find the courage to say what he wanted to, and he found it when found Robby hanging on his every word.

He comes clean, “I heard about you, and Noelle. And Dr. Collins. About how you…just stop, after a while. So, I just…didn’t fight it. I took the time I had with you and just accepted that would be it.”

Robby swears under his breath and rubs his face again, taking a moment to let the words sink in before he says, “Yeah, I, um…I get scared. I push away people before they get too close. I think it keeps me safe, but…”

Dennis blinks, “But…?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” Robby sighs.

He gives Robby a look, and then the older man is shaking his head, pressing his lips together before admitting, “It doesn’t keep me safe.”

It’s satisfying, to hear Robby admit it, but it doesn’t make Dennis feel any better.

Robby leans against the locker then, finally letting go of that anger he had, and now he looked just plain exhausted. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, sincerely, “I shouldn’t have let myself get in the way of what we had.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Dennis agrees, leaning against the locker with him, the two of them still only inches apart and facing each other.

“And…I don’t think I should tell you this, but…I miss you,” Robby whispers, his eyes so soft that Dennis swears the man is yearning.

And it melts his heart to hear it, because he missed Robby, too, but…

He reaches forward, brushes the backs of his fingers down Robby’s forearm and asks, “How will I know you won’t do it again? How can I trust you?”

“That’s up to you, baby,” Robby murmurs, visibly relaxing and leaning into the gentle touch, “I plan on making it up to you in every way possible in hopes of gaining your trust again, but its also your choice. So…do you want to try again? Because you know my answer.”

He supposes Robby’s right. Robby can bend over backwards for him, swear up and down to him and show him that he can be trusted again, but it’s up to Dennis to actually do it.

And maybe he’s stupid, or glutton for punishment, or just utterly hopeful, because wants to. So badly. He gives Robby a soft smile and glances down at his lips, wishing he could kiss him, but knowing better. Quietly, just for them, he whispers, “I think you know my answer, too.”

Robby’s smile grows, the lines around his eyes deepening in result, and he looks so smitten that Dennis swears his heart skips a beat.

He gives Robby a pained smile then, asking, “Now will you please stop terrorizing everyone and truly go back to normal? For me?”

Robby chuckles at that and nods as he pushes himself off the lockers, throwing his arm around Dennis’ shoulders and pulling him back towards the hub — but not before leaning close to whisper into his hair, “Yes, baby, I will. Promise.”