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Dennis was ready to die.
He thought he’d had a good run. Hey, he didn’t make it to 30 just yet but he didn’t think he had it in him to wait 7 months for that, so dying it was.
“Woah, careful there,” someone grabbed his shoulders as he swayed side to side, almost falling asleep on the ambulance bay.
“Doctor Robby!” He squeaked feeling his pupils turn into hearts at seeing his attending.
“You look just about to drop,” Dr Robby said, a smile on his face that made his eyes almost close all the way, wrinkles on the sides looking more prominent. Fuck, he truly was a sight, with his smile, his leather jacket and his helmet under his arm, “heard you had a tough day, barely had the chance to even glance at you.”
Dennis did not swoon. Okay, maybe he did, but the implication of Dr Robby realising he’d been so busy because he noticed his absence... he really needed to sleep.
“It’s nothing, boss,” he crossed his arms in what had become a reassuring posture, mostly because it was that or leaning against very expensive equipment he could never afford to pay if he broke it, “tomorrow’s my day off so...”
Dr Robby smiled and nodded and Dennis wished Trin would hurry the hell up because he wanted to go home before he jumped the man, fuck the consequences.
“So,” Dr Robby continued, unaware of Dennis’ internal fight, “I never did ask how the rest of your rotation went before you got back to... us.”
Dennis heart skipped a beat, for a second he thought Dr Robby would say ‘back to me’ but well, he’d take his victories.
“It went well, hit a bit of a snag with the surgical team but it was cool nonetheless, not for me though,” A snag was an understatement, more like a shark-sized problem, “didn’t know I liked chaos enough to come back to the ER until I didn’t have it anymore.”
Dr Robby laughed and Dennis’ heart almost stopped, “it can be very overwhelming, especially because they’re like the popular kids and we’re...”
“The stoners?” He chuckled, “Let them try to deal with what we do here. I even heard someone call it street medicine. I’m sure they wouldn’t last a day!”
Dr Robby cackled throwing his head back, one hand coming down to Dennis’ shoulder in what was probably just a friendly pat but he had heavy hands and almost toppled Dennis over.
“Jesus, kid!” He said then, grabbing him once more, “you really are about to drop.”
“Nothing a bit of sleep can’t help,” he said embarrased and looked at his watch, a gift from his family for making it to med school.
“You need a ride home?” Dr Robby asked but Dennis didn’t see a second helmet with him and as much as he loved bikes, missed his old girl back at the farm, there was no way in hell he was getting on one without a helmet.
“It’s okay,” he replied, “Trin is picking me up.”
“Thought it was her day off,” Dr Robby said, “if you want, I can give you a lift.”
He was just about to reply when a goddamn Ducati parked in front of them, a bike he knew all too well.
“Hey, genius,” the man opened the visor of his helmet and winked at Dennis, making him roll his eyes.
“Park,” Dr Robby was the one to reply with a small nod.
“Robinabitch,” Shark replied without looking at him, “want a ride?” he asked Dennis.
“It’s Robinavitch,” Dr Robby said but if Shark heard him, he pretended he didn’t.
“Trin is picking me up,” he told Shark as his phone started going off, “sorry.”
“Sooo,” Trin said on the other side of the line as soon as he answered.
“Oh no,” he replied, “Trin...”
“Yup, Matilda is dead. Again.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he sighed, tiredness weighing his body double.
Goodbye to that premium bottle of wine they were thinking of getting as soon as their paychecks dropped and hello to new parts for Trin’s death machine.
“Don’t you worry your pretty huckleberry head,” she said, “I’m working on it.”
“On fixing it?” he asked hopefully.
“I mean, if you call ogling the neighbour trying to fix it, then yes.”
“Trinity.”
“What?” Dennis could almost feel her rolling her eyes, “she offered her help! Said she’d give me a lift tomorrow if she couldn’t find what was wrong with it.”
He rolled his eyes, too, “what’s wrong with it is that it’s old as hell and you drive like you’re always late.”
“I’m always late,” she replied, “anyway you’ll need to get a l-”
He didn’t get to hear the rest as someone yanked his phone from his ear.
“Yo, little shark!” Shark greeted Trinity putting his phone on speaker with the microphone close to his mouth over the helmet.
“Big shark!” Trin replied happily, Dennis still couldn’t believe they got along so well, probably because their personalities matched so much, even if Trin was way more mellow, thank God, “how’s it hanging, man?”
“Thick and heavy, you know it, baby,” Dennis went red at hearing him and sneakily glanced at Dr Robby and found him with an odd expression on his face that he couldn’t decipher.
“You’re a degenerate, Shark,” she replied but Dennis could hear the laughter in her voice.
“Ah, chicks dig that,” he said and winked at him.
“Do they, now?”
“I’m taking your boy home,” he continued, “he’s out here looking like a lost mutt under the rain waiting for his owner.”
Trinity laughed on the other side and Dennis didn’t even have it in him to retort, part of it because Shark was right and the other one because he was too mortified to say something else.
“Alright,” she finally replied, “but don’t go overboard just because he has a day off tomorrow.”
“Oh?” Shark looked at him again, a very cruel smile on his lips that almost made Dennis shiver in anticipation.
“Take care of him, Shark,” she added, “I mean it! I want him back in one piece.”
Shark looked at him, his smile turning predatory as did his eyes, doing his nickname such a justice it was almost funny if it weren’t terrifying, too.
“No promises, little shark,” he said, “bye now.”
He hung up the call with Trinity without waiting for her to say goodbye and then threw his phone at him.
“Get on, genius,” he then threw him the extra helmet he was carrying on the pillion rack, too.
“Whitaker,” Dr Robby said, “the offer still stands.”
Dennis looked between Shark and Dr Robby. It wasn’t really a rock and a hard place, more like a nightmare and a dream. To ride with Dr Robby had been one of his biggest fantasies, but if something had taught him going back to the ER was that Dr Robby was nothing more than a mentor and he needed to get over his crush to be able to work with the man if he planned to stay there.
“I don’t want to worry Trin,” he lied, “and Shark already told her he’d give me a lift.”
“He’s not taking you to your place though,” Dr Robby countered, side eying Shark who looked amused.
“No, I am not,” Shark replied and winked at Dennis again.
God, his mom had been right when she said love and hate were two sides of the same coin.
“Whitaker,” Dr Robby said again, “Dennis.”
And oof. He’d called him Dennis, the man was trying to kill him for sure.
“Alright, this is boring,” Shark said, “if you’re going with the old man, give me back the helmet,” he said, “I’m sure you’ll be back here in no time.”
“Thank you, Shark,” he groaned exasperated and pocketed his phone to put the helmet on, “it’s okay, Dr Robby, thank you for the offer, maybe another time if you got a helmet to spare.”
Dr Robby smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes and Dennis tried to not let it get to his head. “Okay, kid,” he said but didn’t move from where he was, “go on.”
Dennis smiled, too but it also didn’t reach his eyes and with the helmet one he probably looked like he was staring blankly at Dr Robby so he turned back and walked towards the bike.
“Wanna drive, genius?” Shark asked him before he got on and Dennis looked at him surprised, “what?” Shark continued, “it wouldn’t be the first time.”
Dennis heard an intake of breath from Dr Robby and tried to ignore it as much as possible, didn’t want to see what face he was making.
“No,” he shook his head, “I’m too tired.”
“Suit yourself,” Shark said and grabbed the handle as Dennis got on and rearranged himself, giving him a thumbs up from under his arm that he was ready.
“Be careful, Shark,” Dr Robby said, still standing in the same place just staring at them, “that’s precious cargo.”
“See you, old man,” Shark replied and speeded out of the bay, with Dennis holding to his sides for balance and trying not to think about that comment.
◇
Shark’s apartment was the same as he remembered, halfway up a building with floor to ceiling windows and a view to the city.
Dennis wondered if maybe he should’ve stayed in orthopaedics to be able to afford a place like that, but unlike Shark whose family tree was mostly doctors, Dennis would probably spend the rest of his life paying his student loans and sending money back home, ortho or not.
He took his sneakers off by the door and walked to the windows, admiring the view. They were so high up that Dennis could see the hospital in the distance and the way back home where Trinity was probably slabbering over their neighbour.
He wondered if Dr Robby was on any of those streets, thinking if he’d made it home and Dennis almost wanted to text him that he hadn’t made it home but that he was safe and sound.
“Genius,” Shark said behind him and Dennis thought the last thing he felt was safe and sound.
Scared and horny? Definitely.
He turned around to find Shark in a pool of his own clothes and wearing only his fucking designer boxers, black and tight with a white waistband and black letters, doing nothing to hide the semi he was sporting.
Dennis sighed but started taking his own clothes off. Maybe he was more horny than scared.
“Don’t look too excited,” Shark scoffed before he could even take his shirt off and turned to the room on the left where his bedroom was.
Dennis followed close behind, finally taking off his shirt and jeans and socks but when he made it to the room, Shark was nowhere to be seen.
“In here,” he called before Dennis did and he followed the voice to the bathroom to find Shark filling the Jacuzzi. It wasn’t as big as the ones he’d seen in movies but it fit two people with room to spare. It had a triangular shape, matching the corner of the bathroom, “did you shower at the hospital?”
He nodded, usually did. Part of it to save water at their place or other just to make time as he waited for Trinity because she was right, she was always late.
“Good,” Shark said and took off his boxers and got in the Jacuzzi.
Dennis looked at him, all muscles and an attitude and couldn’t believe he’d liked him enough to, well maybe not date him but whatever they had done for a few more months after his ortho rotation ended. Enough for the Shark to form a friendship with the Trinity Santos.
“You getting in or what?” Shark asked him.
Dennis tsked taking off his not designer boxers and got in, reclining in the opposite corner.
Shark stared at him, from his hair to his face to his neck and chest and middle and back to his chest.
“You’ve been doing the exercises I showed you?” he asked, leaning in to pull Dennis to his side to sit him on his lap.
“Yes,” he said exasperated, almost wanting to cover his body until Shark touched his pecs, cupping them in his hands and sending a shiver down his spine.
“Told you,” Shark continued, kneading his pecs and flicking his nipples because the bastard knew how much Dennis liked it, “... that with the T and proper exercise, you wouldn’t need top surgery. Are you even binding anymore?”
“Can we talk about, literally anything else?” He interrupted him because, yes, yes, Shark was right, he was skinny and flat chested and didn’t need to top surgery, he just needed to change his routine a bit, but that didn’t mean he wanted to accept Shark was right.
“No,” Shark replied, squeezing his chest harder, making him whimper and as if that wasn’t enough, he lowered his head and bit one of his nipples, “I want to talk about your tits.”
Dennis felt himself getting wet—even under the water—as he felt a thrill up his spine with every swipe of Shark’s tongue and teeth.
“Not here,” he mumbled, hands holding Shark’s forearms, all wet and hard, just like his cock between Dennis’ legs.
“What?” Shark mumbled with one of Dennis’ nipples in his mouth, “you scared we might have an accident and we’ll have to go back to the ER to your precious Dr Robby?” Clocked.
“You’re such an asshole,” Dennis replied and got up from the Jacuzzi, making a wet mess on his way to the room.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Shark grabbed him from behind, having followed him and pulled him to his chest, as wet and naked as Dennis, “can’t even take a joke, huh? You like him that much?”
“Let me go, Shark,” he scolded, not struggling to get out of Shark’s arms.
“No,” Shark replied and bit the junction between his shoulder and neck, “I forgot to tell you, tomorrow is my day off, too.”
Dennis shivered so hard, he slipped from Shark’s hold but found himself squeezed harder instantly.
“You know what that means, don’t you, mutt?” And by God, did Dennis know.
Okay, Dennis wasn’t stupid, the reason why they’d been together for as long as they did was because Dennis enjoyed being ravaged and Shark very much liked to ravage him until he was a whimpering mess of slick, cum and sweat, it wasn’t rocket science. It wasn’t even science.
“You told Trinity I’d be home tomorrow,” he tried weakly a hand snaking up from Shark’s thigh to his pelvis, feeling the way it connected to the hard cock hitting Dennis’ back, but not touching it just yet.
“No, I didn’t,” Shark whispered, lowering his head once more to bite his neck and then tonguing at the bite, “I didn’t even promise to bring you back in one piece.”
He slid down one of his hands until he could get a finger between Dennis’ folds, rubbing circles on his cock until it hurt and then he added a second one.
“Bren...” Dennis whimpered throwing his head back against Shark’s shoulder, the pain making his whole body tingle.
“I told you not to call me that anymore,” Shark snarled in his ear and then bit his lobe, “told you that was over when we were done.”
He sank his fingers further down and Dennis felt himself buck when those thick fingers entered his hole, scissoring their way in.
“Bren,” he repeated on a whimper just to annoy Shark.
There was a reason why they had gotten along so well. Dennis was no longer the mousy student doctor that started his internal medicine rotation a while back by the time he made it to Surgery.
Shark withdrew his fingers and slapped his pussy, “what did I tell you, mutt?”
Dennis moaned, pussy stinging pleasantly, “Brendon,” he said once more and received a second slap, followed closely by a third.
“You’re no longer a student doctor and suddenly you’ve forgotten all I’ve taught you,” Shark spat, biting the other side of his neck and giving him another slap, “seems to me like you need me to remind you of your lessons.”
He moved one arm to be around his waist and hooked his fingers into his pussy and raised him until Dennis felt his feet dangling above the floor and then Shark carried him to bed and threw him on it.
“Now,” he smiled wickedly, “where were we?”
“I think you were going to teach me a lesson, Brendon,” he smirked and half expected another slap, wanted it, was throbbing for it, but Shark knew and instead of slapping him, he flattened his tongue against his hole and moved it up to his dick, making him spasm and throw his head back on the pillows.
“I’m punishing you,” he said against Dennis’ pussy, “what’s the point of rewarding you,” he grinned and maintaining eye contact, he circled his tongue against Dennis’ cock, a finger coming up to sink inside him, followed close by a second.
“Sh—Brendon!” He screamed as Shark ate him out and fingered his hole until he was a whimpering mess, “please! Please!”
Shark laughed surging up from his pussy; lips, chin and upper lip wet with slick that he wiped away with the back of his hand and looked at Dennis.
“Is the mutt telling me what to do?” he asked, the fingers inside Dennis staying there as he squirmed.
“Just fuck me!” He sneered but then Shark curled his fingers and his eyes rolled on their own to the back of his skull as pleasure coursed through his body, from the tip of his feet to the top of his head.
Shark tutted disappointed and went up to kiss him sloppily, making Dennis taste himself on his lips which in turn made his pussy clench and Shark laugh.
“And Trinity calls me degenerate, but look at you,” he grabbed Dennis cheeks with one hand and squeezed until Dennis swore he could taste blood, “gushing wet because of a little kiss.”
Dennis felt himself go red, humiliation washing over him as he got even wetter at Shark’s harsh words.
“How many men have you fucked since the last time I fucked you?” Shark asked and Dennis could see something in his eyes that he’d never seen before but didn’t know how to describe it.
Pain? Nostalgia? He wasn’t sure. Three months of his surgery rotation, with two of those almost dating and then two more months after his rotation ended but Dennis didn’t think he knew Shark enough to describe what that look meant.
“None,” he replied honestly and it made something change in Shark’s eyes, something that once again he couldn’t describe.
“You haven’t fucked the old man?” He asked next, a smile—a grin—spreading across his mouth as he withdrew his fingers from his pussy and pushed them into Dennis’ mouth.
Dennis licked them earnestly and then kept the fingers inside his mouth until Shark popped them out forcibly.
“I told you it’s not like that,” he mumbled, vision blurry with desire for more, “he doesn’t see me that way.”
Shark stared at his face, down to his mouth and neck and lower to his chest and waist and pussy and back up.
“How are you so sure?” He asked, “you’re an old man magnet, you think I haven’t noticed the way Abbot also looks at you? What makes you think Robinabitch isn’t the same?”
Dennis, who hadn’t even thought of Abbot that way, especially because they barely interacted and he was sure Shark hadn’t even been in the vicinity when they did, finally got tired of Shark’s assholery.
He might’ve been thicker and taller than Dennis, but he had the advantage of the surprise so, he grabbed Shark’s arm and pushed out and to the side, flipping their positions.
“Why don’t you shut up and fuck me, Brendon?” He said, sitting on Shark’s thighs and reaching back with his hand to get Shark’s cock into his hole, the stretch painful and heavenly.
“Fuck, genius!” Shark said, grabbing his thighs and throwing his head back on the pillows just like he’d done before.
“Not much of an asshole when you’re like this, aren’t you?” He smirked, bouncing on Shark’s cock like he hadn’t just worked 12 hours straight.
He looked down to find Shark staring at him with his lower lip between his teeth, a glint in his eyes that Dennis had seen once before when he’d been operating—probably the reason why he’d wanted to get into Shark’s bed the first time.
Not even the few people who knew about them—Trin, Garcia and his family—had any idea that Dennis had been the one to pursue Shark and not the other way around.
“You look good up there, mutt,” he said, “drooling and whimpering for my cock.”
“Shut up,” he replied but didn’t stop bouncing, thighs trembling with effort, “...’m trying to focus.”
Shark laughed and easily flipped them around again, pounding into him like his life depended on it, bedframe hitting the wall hard, bedsheets bunching around them as he grunted above Dennis.
“Are you so desperate for my cock that you can’t even think straight, mutt?” Shark mocked, hands on each side of Dennis’ head as he thrust into him hard.
Dennis didn’t reply, he was too busy sobbing and moaning in pleasure, feeling Shark’s massive bulk between his legs spreading him to the limit as he felt Shark’s cock up his throat.
“Fuck, Bren!” He screamed, hands finding Shark’s pecs and squeezing, scratching, looking for something to keep him put because with the force Shark was using, Dennis felt like they were about to break the wall and end up back in the bathroom.
“God, genius,” Shark muttered, voice strained as was the muscles of his neck and the vein on his forehead, “fuck, you feel so good, baby! This hole was made for me, wasn’t it?”
Dennis nodded ignoring the pet name and instead finding Shark’s neck and pulling him down to kiss him, sloppily and open mouthed, words dizzying in his ears and vision hazy with tears.
“Harder, Bren!” He begged, “please, please, like that, please!”
Shark obeyed, probably the only moment in his day to day that he did, just when he was about to cum.
He moved one hand to his waist, holding him until it hurt, until he left a mark and the other one he kept it by Dennis’ head to keep himself upright as he thrust in and out of him.
“Tell me, genius,” Shark managed to get out between slaps of skin against skin and pants for air, “tell me I ruined you for anyone else, tell me your hole is mine!”
In the back of his brain, every time Shark asked that of him, all kinds of alarms blared in his head and this time wasn’t different and like the other times, he was all too gone to pay attention to it as pleasure invaded every corner of his body and made his legs tingle and his pussy tighten as he tried to keep the orgasm at bay to prolong the feeling as much as possible, but it was always futile.
“It’s all yours! Bren!” He moaned, nails digging into Shark’s nape and down to his back and to his sides and his chest and every inch of skin he could hold of, “my... my hole is y—yours! Fu—aah!”
He came untouched, slick gushing everywhere as he squirted over Shark’s pelvis and on his own lower body, bed soaked as Shark pushed into him harder and wilder, hips stuttering out of rhythm as Shark bit down on his neck and came inside him and before he was done, he pulled out quickly enough to come all over Dennis, too, milky white ropes of cum splattering his stomach and chest, hot and thick.
Shark fell on top of him, their cum between their bodies sticky and gross but they didn’t move, too busy trying to catch their breaths, which Shark made difficult by being on top of Dennis and weighting probably twice as him, but Dennis didn’t really mind, Shark always did that and he always found it endearing and calming—like being a weighted blanket was Shark’s aftercare.
Suddenly the weight on him eased off, but Dennis didn’t breathe easier as he missed the weight instantly—it usually lasted more.
He sighed and was about to sit on the bed when he felt Shark bite the inside of his thigh.
“You brute!” Dennis threw a pillow at him, “what are you doing?”
Shark smiled up at him, eyes mischievous, “I’m not done with you, yet,” he said like it was nothing.
“Aren’t you like 40?” He replied feeling Shark lick the bite and shivering at the feeling.
“I’m 41 actually,” he winked and lowered his head to suck at Dennis’ overstimulated dick.
“Thought you were too old for that,” he moaned, one hand reaching back against the headboard as the other one buried itself on Shark’s curls, sweat and sex making his hair take its natural form.
“Thought you were into old men,” Shark replied and honestly, Dennis had nothing to say to that when part of him wanted his current attendant between his legs instead of his old one.
“Don’t start,” he replied and let himself enjoy the overstimulation.
When Robby asked Santos the next day if Whitaker had made it home, she had stayed quiet for a second and then asked what he meant.
It took a moment for Robby to realise that she didn’t know he’d heard the conversation between Park, Whitaker and her, so he made an excuse about how he’d notice Whitaker dead on his feet the day before and was wondering if he was okay.
She looked at him once more and then to the side as she lied, saying he’d made it safely and had been sleeping off the tiredness.
That day was gone in a blur of patients and paperwork and overthinking and before long he was up on the roof, watching the city and feeling the humid wind on his face, one hand holding his thermos with tea—because he didn’t need the coffee now that his shift was done—while his other hand was around his phone in his pocket, Whitaker’s chat opened but not even one message sent.
“Brother,” Jack called behind him, “that’s my spot.”
He smiled at his friend and moved to the side, ass on the railing, feet hurting like they usually did at the end of his shift.
“Hypothetically speaking,” he started.
“Uh-oh,” Jack said at once and Robby shrugged, taking a swig of his tea.
“Hypothetically speaking,” he repeated, “let’s say I’m worried about someone...”
“Is this about Whitaker and Shark?” Jack finished, leaving Robby gapping like a fish.
“How do you even know about that?” He asked flabbergasted, “I didn’t even know they knew each other.”
Jack laughed rather hard, making Robby feel a little dumb. A lot, actually.
“They were together for like half a year,” Jack said, “give or take. You didn’t know?”
“What?” He almost dropped his thermos, “you’re joking.”
“Have you seen Whitaker?” Jack continued, unaware of Robby’s freakout, “kid is kinda cute, can’t blame Shark, I’m sure I would’ve done the same.”
“Wait, what?” He said again, Jack and... Whitaker?
“What?” Jack replied innocently, “is this about your crush on the kid?”
And God, hearing it coming from Jack sounded just as bad as he felt whenever he looked at Whitaker for longer than a second.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said lamely, “...kid is half my age. His balls haven’t even dropped... probably.”
Jack laughed once more, stuffing his hands in his pockets and reclining against the rail as Robby was.
“He’s like 30,” Jack said, “I’m quite sure his balls dropped already, but that’s not the question, is it?”
Robby hated how much Jack knew him, keeping secrets from him was close to impossible—he’d lost count of how many surprise parties had been spoiled because Jack just knew.
But this secret he wouldn’t have minded keeping it for longer because Jack, of course, was right.
To say it was a crush sounded too childish but to say he just wanted to sleep with Whitaker was too shallow. It had been a while since Robby felt anything like that and it was driving him crazy.
Usually when he liked someone, whether male or female, though more often than not female, he only needed to talk to them to get a grasp of their personally and likes and take it from there, but for some reason, Whitaker was different.
Different enough that when Park had stopped in front of them and offered to take Whitaker home, a fire had started in Robby’s heart and had spread around the rest of his body and it had gotten only worse when Park asked Whitaker if he wanted to drive his bike because that meant they were, or had been, closer than he thought at first.
Jesus, he could almost imagine Whitaker on Park’s massive Ducati, a bike for show no doubt, gliding around traffic, happy and carefree...
“You’re smiling, brother,” Jack interrupted him, “thinking of all the positions you want to put the kid in?”
Robby looked at him with disgust, “You’re a fucking pervert,” he said but there was no heat in his voice and it only made Jack laugh.
“I know,” he said, “are you?”
Maybe he was. Maybe he should think about it, maybe fucking his hand thinking about it could make him feel better.
It hadn’t, and the next day when he saw Park dropping Whitaker off at the ambulance bay, it only made him more jealous—made him look stupid as he walked to his locker and tried to stuff both helmets into it, realising too late they didn’t fit and having to leave them on top of the lockers.
“Good morning, Dr Robby” Whitaker greeted him and when Robby looked around it was to find Whitaker in a shirt too big to be his and sweatpants with his ankles rolled to fit him.
“Good morning, doctor,” he replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, even more so when the neck of the shirt moved to the side and Robby got front seat view to the mess on Whitaker's neck and shoulders, purple and red and pink and green. Bite marks and hickies.
He was just about to say something when Santos arrived, too.
“Here you go, Fuckleberry,” she said, handing him a black, sleeveless turtle neck, “damn Shark doesn’t listen! I told him to take it easy on you. Look at you!”
Whitaker looked at her surprised and quickly grabbed the shirt, eyes darting to him.
“Oh, yikes...” Santos said as if having just noticed he was there, too, “morning, Robby.”
“Good morning, Dr Santos,” he said and turned to leave.
“You think he noticed?” Whitaker whispered to Santos.
“Of course he did,” she whispered louder than him, “look at you!”
He almost ran to the bathroom and sat on the toilet cover, trying to get the image out of his head of Whitaker in Park’s arms, crying in ecstasy as the Shark pounded him and marked him as his.
God, he was fucked... and hard.