Chapter Text
When Dennis wakes, it's to a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder. He flinches at the touch like it burns, and maybe it does- he feels like he's on fire. Fuck. His head pounds with an intensity it hasn't all day, his cramps coming back with a renewed vigor now that he's awake, and he moans in a show of his displeasure, curling back in on himself. He hears a low chuckle, and then he's being touched again, shaken gently. At least he's prepared for the burn this time.
“Whittaker, hey. C'mon, kid. I'd let you sleep, but you said Santos was pissed last time you spent the night.” Robby. Right. He's at Robby's house. That's what that delicious scent wafting around is… “Besides,” Robby speaks again, and Dennis burrows deeper into the couch cushions. “One of us still has work tomorrow. So you can't go into heat here.”
Too late, Dennis wants to say, but his mind feels like sludge.
Another shake of his shoulder, and a sigh. “Whittaker. I'll drive you home, buy you dinner. But seriously, you can't stay here much longer.”
Robby sounds desperate, now, almost scared, and that piques Dennis’ interest. He peeks an eye open, looking up at Robby, finds the alpha standing as far away as possible while still able to shake him awake, his muscles pulled taut. He looks like he might launch himself at Dennis at any second. Oh. That's probably why he sounds like that, then. He doesn't want to fall into his instincts and-
Dennis whines at the thought, unable to stop the noise from leaving his lips. He wants that. He wants Robby to snap. Maybe it's selfish of him. But he's been harboring his feelings for far, far too long, and his heat isn't going to be pleasant at all if he doesn't have a nice, fat knot to fuck him and fill him and breed him and-
“Robby…”
Robby's hold on his shoulder tightens. “Let's get you home, kid.”
“Don't wanna.”
“You have to.”
Dennis shakes his head. His head swims with the motion. “No, no…don't make me go...Don't make me go, I know you want me, Robby, please, you can keep me, you can fuck me, be as rough as you want, please-”
“Fuck, Dennis, you can't just say shit like that.” Robby growls, shaking Dennis just a bit, and Dennis whines. “Sorry. I'm sorry. Just- You can't say that. You just- can't. Because if you give me permission, I'll take, and I- I can't, not like this-”
“Why not? Why not like this? I want it!” Dennis protests. He sits up, now, clambering to grab at Robby's shirt and pull him closer. “I want it. Want you. Please.”
Robby's pupils dilate as he catches a whiff of Dennis’ scent, uninhibited by distance now, and groans. In a second, he's burying his face in Dennis’ neck, lapping at his scent glands, hands shifting to grip at his waist. Dennis melts immediately, knees buckling- Robby pushes him back against the couch once more and Dennis whimpers as the alpha straddles his hips. “You have no idea-” Robby nips at his jaw, his sloppy kisses moving all around the exposed skin of Dennis' neck, “How fucking much I've been waiting for you to say that. Do you know how hard it is to think around you sometimes?”
He connects their lips, then, one hand groping up Dennis’ torso, smoothing up his neck and through his hair until it tangles into the curls at the crown of his head, tugging hard. Dennis gasps at the feeling, and Robby takes advantage of that and slides his tongue into his mouth. It occurs, idly, to Dennis that he's never kissed anyone and that this is demonstrably not the most pleasant way to do it, all teeth and spit, but Robby doesn't seem to be complaining. He seems to be quite pleased, in fact, if the bulge pressing up against Dennis’ stomach says anything at all. Dennis moans and allows himself the small pleasure of grinding up against it, his own much smaller bulge twitching in response to the stimulation. There's already an obscene amount of slick pooling in his boxers. “Robby-”
“Shh…I've got you, pup. Let me take care of you.”
Robby shifts them so Dennis is laying face down on the couch, pulling his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Dennis can barely even moan in reaction before two thick fingers are sliding inside his slick hole and he’s convulsing in pleasure, a cry ripped from his lips. The hand not finger fucking him smooths down his back, rucking up his shirt, and Dennis thinks he hears Robby shushing him but he’s too distracted by the way those two fingers curl and scissor his aching hole. He curses under his breath.
“Fuck- Robby- More, more, please-”
“Shh, baby, it’s okay...”
“Need you. Please, need you, don’t need prep-”
“Fuuuck,” Those fingers fuck him harder, a third pushing in and curling right against his prostate. Dennis screams and presses back against them, stars dancing in his vision as he comes untouched. Robby laughs at that, and then those fingers are pulling out of him, toying with his now-flaccid (but very quickly hardening) cock. “Oh, pup…You really are deep in it, aren’t you? Coming untouched, just from my fingers…Did you come here in pre-heat knowing you would end up slipping while you were here? Was that your plan the whole time?”
“N- No, sir-”
“I don’t believe you~” Robby sing-songs. His hand wraps fully around Dennis’ poor dick now. There’s pressure at the rim of his hole as the head of his cock pushes teasingly inside. Dennis whines and tries to push back, but Robby tsks and slaps his ass, his other hand gripping his hips with bruising strength. “Nuh-uh, pup. Tell me the truth, first, then you’ll get what you want.”
“But I didn-” Another slap. Dennis yelps. Slick pours from his ass. “Fuck- Okay! Okay, yes! Yes, that’s exactly what I did! I planned to go into heat here tonight so you would fuck me! There! Now please, Robby, alpha, fuck me!”
Dennis can practically hear the smirk in Robby’s voice. “There. Was that so hard?”
Robby bottoms out in one thrust. Dennis feels like he’s being split open.
Dennis comes back to earth slowly. The ten o’clock news is playing on the TV, that much he can tell, but the words all blend together as he opens his eyes and blinks blearily at the TV screen. Some story about an accident by the library. He desperately wants to go back to sleep, to the toe-curling pre-heat wet dream he was just having, but sleep doesn't come, frustratingly enough. His head hurts, his bones ache, and he's starting to feel a fever come on. Ugh...
Sitting up, his cheeks flush when he feels the wet patch soaking his trousers. He shifts uncomfortably, growing even hotter when he realizes he’s hard, as well. Fuck. Maybe he should have gone home with Trinity, because now he’s literally in heat in his boss’ house. Or- not quite in heat yet, but so, so close. If Robby gets too close, there’s no promising Dennis won’t just melt into a puddle and present right then and there. He needs to go. He needs to-
“I was just about to wake you. Come on, I’ll drive you home. It’s late, and I have a feeling you’re going to have an early morning.” Dennis startles at Robby’s voice next to him, his head whirling in his direction just in time to see him grab the blanket from Dennis’ lap -when did he get a blanket? Did Robby cover him up?- and toss it aside. Only to seemingly immediately regret it when he sees the tent in Dennis’ sweatpants. Or maybe he smells him first. Either way, he licks his lips, and Dennis bares his neck instinctively. Flashes of dream-Robby biting and licking that exposed skin makes him shiver. “...Or a late night. Yeah, you’re definitely not walking or taking the bus. Let’s go.”
He offers a hand, and Dennis takes it wordlessly, not trusting his voice.
He feels positively mortified when he sees the wet patch he’s left behind on the couch from his slick. Robby doesn't mention it.
Robby’s hand slips from his and up his arm, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly, as he leads Dennis towards the door. Dennis just moves wherever he’s pushed on trembling legs. He's utterly useless as Robby slides his shoes on, his jacket, makes sure he has his bag. He blinks, and he’s in the passenger seat of Robby’s truck, that same blanket he’d been covered with earlier tucked around and under him, and he’d be embarrassed about leaking slick all over the damn place if it wasn’t getting increasingly more difficult to think. Especially in such an enclosed space with Robby. At least the blanket smells like him. Dennis buries his nose in it unashamedly as Robby drives, resting his head on the cold window. He can’t help the soft, pleased sighs and whines that slip out every now and again- in fact, they only grow more and more frequent, because every time he does, Robby’s scent spikes, and Dennis swears he can smell the barest hint of arousal in it. Robby pulls into a fifteen minute parking spot in front of Dennis’ apartment complex. It takes Dennis a moment to realize this.
“Uh…Thanks for the ride. I’m sorry about- about slicking up your couch. I’ll pay to have it cleaned.”
“I have a carpet shampooer, Whittaker. I can just take the cushion off and use that. I've done that with plenty of worse messes” Robby says. “I’m more worried about you right now. Let’s get you upstairs.”
“Oh,” Dennis blinks. Let’s? “You don’t have to walk me up.”
“I do,” Robby says simply. He reaches across the middle seat and unbuckles Dennis’ seatbelt for him, before turning off the truck and exiting the vehicle, rounding it before Dennis can even open the door. Dennis has enough wherewithal to climb out of the truck himself, and stand on his own two feet, although they’re definitely wobbly. Robby tucks the blanket around him tighter before scooping his backpack up from the foot of the passenger seat. Dennis’ eyes flutter shut and he can’t help but suck in a deep breath, melting a bit at how close the alpha is. God, he’s so warm…so solid…
Robby guides him out of the way of the door and closes it, before slowly maneuvering them inside the building. “Alright, which one’s yours?”
“Fifth floor. Five-oh-two. It’s a walk-up…”
A sigh. “Of course it is. Think you can walk?”
“Yes, sir.”
Robby growls low in his throat at the honorific, and Dennis once again bares his throat. He sees the alpha swallow thickly, sees his hands twitch at his sides. He wants those hands to wrap around his-
“Okay. Let me know if you need a break.”
Dennis just wants to push, now. “Yes, sir.”
Robby makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat.
It takes longer than it would if he was feeling normal, but they make it up to the fifth floor. Once they reach the top of the stairwell, he reaches for his backpack and fishes his keys from inside, but he doesn’t want to leave the alpha. Seemingly, Robby doesn’t want to leave either, because he lingers, even as they stand outside of Dennis’ apartment.
“You said you have thin walls. Will Santos be okay with your scent?”
“She already told me she’d go stay with Yolanda,” Dennis says with a shrug. “But even if she didn’t, she’s like a sibling. I’m not scared of having her around.”
Robby nods, and something in his shoulders untenses. “Okay. Good.”
They stand there a long moment, before they both speak at the same time:
“I guess I should-”
“Let me-”
Dennis’ mouth snaps shut. Robby’s does too.
“Go on,” Robby says. Dennis shakes his head.
“No, I was…I was just saying I should go in, but you were saying something.”
“It’s stupid,” Robby says.
“I don’t think anything you say is stupid.”
Robby is blushing. A feat Dennis had thought was impossible. He clears his throat, looking at Dennis firmly.
“Let me see that blanket quick.”
Robby holds his hand out and Dennis hesitates. Realistically, he knows it’s Robby’s, but the omega part of his brain doesn’t want to let it go. It smells like the alpha and he doesn’t want to give it back. Not when it’s going to make a wonderful addition to his nest. But he relents, still having some sense; he peels it off and hands it over, watching cautiously as Robby takes it and…scents it? Dennis gapes as the alpha rubs the fabric over his neck and wrists, spreading his scent over it, before reaching back over and wrapping it around Dennis’ shoulders once more. This close, Dennis can smell the arousal clear as day. He wasn't imagining it in the truck.
“Good night, Whittaker. Take care of yourself, alright?”
Dennis swallows. “...Right…”
Robby smiles. Ruffles Dennis’ hair. Then he unlocks the door for him, pushes him inside, and is gone. Dennis doesn’t know what to think other than three simple words:
I’m so fucked.