Archive of Our Own

Dennis finds himself in a dingy dive bar, pleasantly buzzed off one too many fruity cocktails. Normally, he wouldn’t be able to afford such a treat but the man he’s spent the evening talking to—Ronny? Robby?—has so generously offered to buy. He smiles at the man now, plucking the cherry out of his drink before popping it in his mouth as hungry eyes follow the movement. 

This night is turning out to be perfect. He had planned to celebrate midterms being over with a drink and some greasy food but now he’s faced with a much more appealing kind of stress relief. This Robby guy is just his type, big and broad and rugged and old enough to be his—

“How old are you anyway, kid? 18? 19?”

The words hit Dennis like a slap in the face. “What the fuck?” he says. “I’m 24.”

Robby whistles lowly. “If you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.” 

Dennis pouts, taking a sip of his drink. It’s not his fault he has a baby face and a slight frame. None of which is helped by his current predicament. Some months it’s a toss up between getting his T-shots or getting to eat. At least he doesn’t have to worry about rent since he found that abandoned storage closet in the library.

He nearly jumps out of his barstool when he feels a large hand pawing at his knee. The older man is practically caging him into the bar, his front pressed to Dennis’ back. Dennis smiles, tipping his head back, letting Robby lean further into his space. 

“How much for the night?”

“What?” Dennis splutters, whipping his head around. He goes a little cross-eyed at how close their faces are.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Robby looks searchingly into his eyes. “Hot young twinks don't just throw themselves at me. So how much is it gonna be?”

It takes some effort for Dennis to marshal his thoughts into order. One: Robby thinks he’s a sex worker. Two: He’s not a sex worker, not that there’s anything wrong with being one. Three: He already knows he wants to go home with this guy so why shouldn’t he get paid for it? 

“I, uh, how about $100?”

Robby studies him for a second before draining the rest of his beer. His hand lands hot and heavy over the small of his back. “Come on. Let’s get out of here, kid.”

At the end of the night, Dennis leaves Robby’s apartment with a sore jaw, a pleasant ache between his legs, and $200 burning a hole in his pocket. 

He looks back at the closed-up garage not too far from the bar. Robby lives in a little apartment on the second floor. A light is still on in the bedroom. Dennis picks up his phone, opens up Google Maps and pins the location before thinking too much about it. The address is listed as ‘Mike’s Bikes’ with a 4.1 star rating.

Dennis hustles back to the 24-hour library in the chilly autumn dawn. On a whim, he stops into a cafe and buys himself an overpriced coffee. It tastes so much better than the instant stuff. 

The warm smoky aroma of the coffee reminds him of Robby. Robby leaned against his front door with a towel low on his hips, the rumble of his parting words against Dennis’ ear. 

“Next time you wanna make some extra cash, you know where to find me.”

***

Dennis manages to forget about it for two weeks. He attends his lectures, clocks in to his part-time job at Foot Locker, and goes back to drinking his shitty bean water.

Then his old brick of a laptop suddenly blue screens on him. Dennis tries turning it off and on again. No dice. With how old it is, even the repair guy at the mall tells him he’s better off just buying a new one.

I guess I have no choice, he thinks with a kind of wild glee. It’s not like he’d secretly been hoping for some minor inconvenience to befall him. He barely even remembers that guy with his rough hands and his big dick and his promise of more money.

The end of the week finds Dennis at the garage just after 6PM. He’s freshly showered, wearing a threadbare sweater and jeans. He was hoping to catch Robby alone, probably closing up shop, but there’s two other men inside talking to him. Dennis lingers by the open garage door, unsure. He can’t hear what they’re saying but suddenly one of the men makes a gesture in his direction. Before Dennis can duck out of sight, Robby turns around and spots him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. This is probably really bad sex worker etiquette. 

Robby recovers quickly however, walking towards Dennis. “Hey, kid, come on in. Give me a couple minutes and I’ll be right with you, yeah?” 

Dennis nods dumbly, aware of the two other men staring at them. He lets Robby lead him to an old leather couch at the back of the shop. His hand settles low on Dennis’ hip, practically groping at his ass.

“Yo, Robby, who’s your friend?” One of the men leers, a white-haired man in cut-off sleeves.

“None of your business, Duke.” Robby calls back, middle finger raised behind him. Dennis can feel the warmth creeping up his neck. He’s been keyed up all afternoon, thinking of what filthy things Robby would have him do. His cunt is already getting wet from being paraded around like Robby’s plaything.

“Aw, come on. I thought we were gonna have boys' night?” Duke says, letting his gaze run up and down Dennis’ body. “I brought enough beers. Your friend can join in too.” 

Dennis looks between the men nervously. Surely, Robby’s not going to share him? Toss the hooker around like a football for “boys’ night”? 

“Sorry, boys, but he’s all mine,” Robby says, cutting through all his spiraling thoughts.

Robby takes his buddies’ good-natured grumbling and teasing in his stride. He begs off their plans for the evening, promising to make it up to them next time. Eventually, the two men pack up and leave, chuckling to themselves while throwing knowing looks at Dennis.

Now it’s just him and Robby in the workshop. The noise of the metal garage doors being pulled down rattles in the silence. It’s dark for a second before Robby flicks on the fluorescents. He watches Robby make his circuit around the space, putting away tools as he goes, until he finally makes his way to Dennis at the back of the shop. The younger man has to look up at him from his position on the couch. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” Robby says. 

“Must be your lucky day,” Dennis deadpans. 

“So what can I do for ya, kid?” Robby settles himself heavily next to him, his bulk making Dennis bounce on his seat. The older man’s arm settles behind him on the couch cushions, legs spread obscenely wide. “Or should I say, how much can I do you for?” 

Robby has the gall to smirk at his own joke. Dennis rolls his eyes before he remembers that he’s supposed to be acting all willing and sweet. He sidles up next to the older man, curling a hand on his chest. He watches the crooked smile slowly slip off his face. 

“Robby, I’m in a really tight spot.” Dennis bites his lip, letting his voice go all reedy and high. “I need, like, $700?”

Robby’s eyes snap back to his, all the hunger suddenly drained out of them. “Are you joking?” 

“No…” Dennis pouts. 

“You doing drugs?” Dennis yelps as Robby suddenly grabs him, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater to expose his skinny arms. 

“Hey, let go!” Robby releases him from his grip, satisfied with his unmarked skin. “I’m not doing drugs, you ass!”

“Then what do you need the money for?” Robby asks in frustration.

“I…” Dennis falters, annoyed that he has to explain himself. “I need a new laptop, okay?”

Robby hums, considering. “Okay.”

“O-okay?” Dennis schools the surprise off his face. He follows Robby when he stands up, going to a cluttered computer desk in the corner. Robby shakes the mouse, waking the computer out of standby mode. He clicks out of a few windows before going to his browser, going to Amazon, and typing in ‘laptop’ in the search box.

“Figures you’d be one of those big purchase, big screen people,” Dennis mumbles as Robby reaches for a pair of reading glasses. He watches as the older man clicks through the first few search results that appear. “See, all the decent ones are around $700, so can I earn the cash or– What are you doing?”

“Getting you a laptop.” Robby adds a laptop that’s right on budget to his cart. “I’m not giving you cash. You can pick up your laptop here when it arrives.”

“Seriously?” Dennis is stunned. 

“You can give me the downpayment this week and the rest when you come back next week, yeah?” Robby turns around in his swivel chair, looking at him over his glasses, cursor hovering over the ‘Pay Now’ button. 

Dennis' knees hit the floor at record speed. Leaning up, he puckers his lips for a kiss. It tastes of burnt coffee and cigarette smoke. Robby pulls away first, breathing heavily. “You gonna make it worth it, baby?”

Dennis nods, dazed. He drops his gaze to Robby’s lips and opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue. The older man smiles before leaning in, pushing a fat glob of spit into his mouth and rubbing it into his tongue with grease-stained fingers. Dennis whines at how filthy it is. Something about Robby just gets him going, his taste, his scent, his money.

He breaks off to suck kisses down Robby’s chest, fumbling with the button on the older man’s jeans. He pulls his underwear down, tucking the band under his balls. Robby’s not all the way hard yet but even then it’s intimidating. His dick is large and cut, curving a little crookedly to the left. A heavy hand lands on the back of his head, not unkindly pushing him down. Dennis can take the hint. 

Dennis grabs at the base of Robby’s dick, giving it a firm squeeze before bending down to suckle at the tip. He looks up into Robby’s dark gaze, letting his drool drip down the shaft before stroking deliberately slow. Robby twitches in his palms, filling up with blood. When Robby firms up enough, Dennis opens wide, slapping the head against his tongue before letting it shallowly thrust into his mouth. Robby tastes of sweat and musty funk. 

“Talented fucking mouth,” the older man mutters through grit teeth. “So hungry for my cock.” He throws his head back as Dennis swallows him down. 

Dennis squeezes his eyes against the discomfort, trying not to gag at the cock poking at his throat. He takes deep breaths through his nose until he finds his rhythm, bobbing up and down in sloppy motions, letting his tongue catch against the notch under Robby’s tip on every upstroke. 

“Can I fuck your face, baby?” Robby asks him, already pushing up off his seat to get better leverage.

Dennis nods, trying to convey with his eyes how fucking turned on that makes him. He’s gagging for it, literally. Both of Robby’s hands grab at his head, firm and unyielding, and it’s all Dennis can do not to choke. Robby bucks his hips, filling the workshop with the sound of slurping and gurgling. Robby’s balls slap against the drool dripping down his chin, pooling in disgusting puddles on the floor. 

He slaps at Robby’s leg when the need to breathe overcomes him. Robby lets him pull off, a mess of spit and precome trailing from Dennis’ mouth to the cock standing shiny and rigid between his legs. When Dennis speaks, his voice sounds hoarse and raw. “It’s extra if you wanna come down my throat?” 

Two minutes later, Dennis sticks his tongue out showing Robby his empty pink gullet. The sticky load already sitting in his belly.

Half an hour later, Dennis is bent over a workbench. Brain warm and fuzzy as he’s pounded into from behind. Everything in the drawers and on the shelves is rattling with their movement. He’s going to have bruises where the edge of the bench digs into his hips.

Two hours after that, they’re upstairs in Robby’s apartment waiting for a pizza delivery. He's riding Robby on the couch. Fingers flying on his tdick as he rubs out his own climax. Robby folds his hands behind his head, eyes fixed at where his cock is sheathed in lurid purple, pumping in and out of Dennis’ cunt. Dennis is similarly mesmerized by the thatch of dark hair curling under his armpits.

In the morning, Dennis wakes up to something between his legs. He looks down to see Robby’s dick poking in and out of sight at the vee of his thighs, sliding against his damp slit and nudging against his cocklet. Despite how sore and tender he is, he can’t help wanting. 

“I’m out of condoms, is this alright?” Robby says, nipping at his shoulder. “‘M not gonna put it in.”

He nods, biting his lip against saying something he’s going to regret. He’s already unbearably wet at the feel of skin against skin. It doesn’t take long for them to finish, rutting slow and lazy between the sheets.

No more condoms means no more fucking. Robby, at least, agrees with him on that. Released from his duties, Dennis jumps into the shower to wash off the sweat and fluids. When he emerges into the combined living and kitchen area in a cloud of steam, Robby is waiting for him with breakfast. It’s just a half-empty pack of bagels but Dennis feels flattered nonetheless. He spreads a liberal amount of cream cheese on his. Robby actually buys the brand name stuff.

(The last guy he had hooked up with had kicked him out at 2AM because he had to go on his run at 5AM and, according to him, if his morning routine gets messed up he’s off his game the whole day. It’s Dennis’ own fault for hooking up with an Ortho guy. They’re all very American Psycho like that.)

They exchange numbers before Dennis leaves. He doesn’t receive a text from Robby, however, until Thursday in the middle of his morning lectures. 

***

It keeps happening. 

Every time Dennis needs a little extra cash, he takes the bus to the garage and spreads his legs. It’s… convenient for him. He gets money for doing something he already would be doing anyway. It’s not like Robby was a bad lover—better than some guys half his age even. There's really no point in hooking up with anyone else. 

Dennis scrolls past the latest text from Ortho guy to pull up his conversation with Robby.

Dennis stares down at the text. Despite this arrangement going on for nearly a year now (Oh god, has it been that long?) he doesn’t have the heart to tell Robby he’s not really a hooker. He’s only a hooker for Robby, technically.

Dennis considers playing it off. Maybe he should try to keep this ruse going and pretend to be busy. He has been to Robby’s twice in the last three weeks. That’s kind of excessive, isn’t it? Robby’s obviously comfortable but it’s not like he’s got unlimited money to be throwing it around on Dennis. 

Damn it, he was already looking forward to watching that new hockey show on Robby’s HBO Max and ordering in Thai food.

Maybe he should reply to Ortho guy’s text? Brendon Park may be a total asshole but he’s got a thick cock and he knows how to use it. Last time, he had even asked Dennis to leave instead of kicking him out. That’s progress. 

(Except Park doesn’t do foreplay and doesn’t like to kiss.)

Just as he’s typing a reply, Dennis gets a notification. He clicks on it before deciding that he’s going to play it cool.

***

Dennis climbs the stairs to the fourth floor of the library, back to the storage closet he’s been squatting in. He’s just going to grab his towel and a change of clothes before schlepping across campus to shower in the university gym, then back again to his room to sleep. Except, when he gets to the fourth floor, it’s different. The rows of shelves, usually full of dusty books, are now mostly empty. There’s a stack of storage boxes near the wall that wasn’t there this morning. That’s when panic starts to set in.

He beelines to his room, finding it thankfully still untouched. He packs up what little he has, throwing everything that fits into a duffel bag. In the end, it’s only the thin floor mattress left. He stares at it so long, deciding whether it’s worth taking with him, until his vision starts to blur with tears.

Later, talking to the library assistant, he would learn that the university is renovating the fourth floor. Dennis, for the life of him, cannot understand why. Nobody ever goes there. 

As if on autopilot, Dennis gets on the bus with his duffel bag full of possessions. He’s not sure of his destination until he’s getting off at a familiar stop. He comes up short when he sees the garage already closed up for the night. The lights are off upstairs too. Belatedly, he realizes that Robby’s not expecting him. He didn’t text.

It’s summer in Pittsburgh. From his shift at the mall, he had gone straight home to the library and now he’s at Robby’s doorstep close to midnight. He’s in a sweaty undershirt and his hair is greasy. He’s in no state to be seducing anybody. 

“Den?” 

He turns around to see Robby jogging across the street. Dennis quickly blinks away the wetness gathering at his lashes. “Hey.”

“Did you text me?” Robby asks. He fishes out his keys from a pocket of his cargos, unlocking the side entrance that leads up to the second floor. 

“Sorry, I forgot,” Dennis says lamely. “Is it a bad time?”

“Nah, you’re good.” 

Dennis can smell beer on Robby’s breath. He looks dressed up in a clean plaid shirt and nice boots. “Were you out at the bar?”

“Yeah,” Robby admits, leading him upstairs. “Hope you don’t mind the mess. I wasn’t expecting you.”

At least Robby looks pleased to see him, Dennis thinks with some bitterness, probably because he failed to pick up some willing partner at the bar. It’s their loss. 

Convincing Robby to let him move in turns out to be easier than he anticipated, drunkenness notwithstanding. After a quick shower to get himself presentable, he jumps on Robby’s lap and winds his arms around the older man’s neck. It just takes a few sweet kisses, a little batting of his eyes, and a “Pretty please can I stay with you, daddy? Just for a little while?”

The details of their arrangement, though, are a little harder to iron out. The next morning, Robby is considerably more sober when he asks: “So does this mean I can fuck you whenever I want now?”

Dennis throws Robby an unimpressed look over his shoulder as he’s unpacking his things into the closet. His thighs still ache from bouncing on Robby’s dick last night. It was a very enthusiastic thank you. “You watch too much porn.”

“Then am I gonna get the deluxe boyfriend package? ‘Cause I don't think I can afford it.” Robby says, leaning against the doorframe. “You expect me to keep my hands off you if you're here all the time?”

Dennis quickly turns away to hide his reaction. He can feel Robby’s gaze touching every part of him. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

It’s Sunday. They have nowhere they need to be. Robby goes out to buy lunch from the deli down the street. They have sex in the middle of the afternoon. Neither of them mentions payment. 

His time with Robby always ended with a wad of bills being pushed into his hand, but now there’s no more milestones to mark. Now, his time with Robby stretches before him indefinitely. It could be another week of this or another year. The thought should be daunting.

They have come to an unspoken agreement between them. Dennis makes himself available to Robby at all hours of the day, within reason. Except when he’s at his part-time job or at university, everything else is fair game. 

Sometimes they have full-blown conversations about what to make for dinner while Robby pounds into him from behind. They’ll watch movies with Dennis on Robby’s lap, keeping his cock warm. Hell, Robby has woken him up more than once with a dick in his mouth. He can’t blame the guy for taking advantage now that Dennis has basically agreed to fuck him for free.

The money doesn't even end up being much of a loss. Dennis still has his part-time job and Robby takes care of his rent, his utilities, his groceries. Sometimes Dennis will find $50 in the pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t question it. 

***

“You’re actually a med student?”

Dennis looks up annoyed, carefully setting down his mug of peppermint tea on the bedside table. “Yes.” 

“And you’re really 24?”

“Well, 25 now.” Dennis gapes at Robby lying next to him in bed. He can’t tell if Robby is disappointed that he’s older. Maybe this is ruining the fantasy for him. “You thought I was 19 this whole time, seriously?”

Robby scratches at his head. “I thought you were an undergrad.”

“I’m in the middle of my transition,” Dennis grumbles. “I still don’t look… right.”

Dennis has told him a little about his transition journey and how it got him disowned by his family. For an old man, Robby is pretty open-minded when it comes to this sort of thing. He’s not even the first trans person Robby has slept with.

“Right,” Robby says awkwardly. “Do you need me to pay for your, uh, medicine?”

Dennis looks up. His voice comes out softer than he intended. “You would?”

Robby nods, as if it’s casual. “What about birth control? I can pay for that too.”

He isn't on birth control. He can’t afford it, especially not the expensive kind that won’t mess with his HRT. Dennis doesn’t point out that they’re already using condoms. Maybe Robby wants to be extra sure. Robby seems like the noncommittal type. He’s well into middle age and still single, not even an ex-wife in the picture. He probably doesn’t want kids.

Dennis sniffs, pinching at Robby’s nipple. “Duh, you should pay for it.”

“Brat.” Robby bats his hand away before rubbing at the abused nub. 

Then he is dragged down the bed, caught in the larger man’s hold. Dennis is grinning even as he puts up a struggle. Robby likes this kind of play sometimes, using his powerful arms and legs to force Dennis down and mount him. 

“I yield,” Dennis says, giggling breathlessly. “I yield.” His wrists are caught up above him. His cunt pressing against Robby’s growing erection. When he looks up, he can see his own grinning face reflected back in warm brown eyes. Dennis is exhausted from being fucked doggy not too long ago but, for Robby, he can go again. 

As thanks for paying for his meds, of course.

(Robby had asked him once how much his student loans were. Dennis had given him the ballpark figure. The older man had raised his brows, nodded, and said nothing. Dennis had shrugged it off at the time, but now he’s thinking. If Robby could afford it, would he have offered to pay for that too?)

***

Dennis is starting his fourth year of med school. That means he has to do his clinical rotations. That means he’ll have to quit his job at Foot Locker. He’ll be completely at Robby’s mercy then. 

Dennis isn’t an idiot. In the few months he’s been living at Robby’s, he’s managed to save some money just in case. Robby probably has a sugar daddy kink or something, the old pervert. He likes throwing his money around to feel in control. Dennis is only appealing because he’s so pathetic and broke and willing to do everything Robby asks of him. 

Recently he’s started to whine and complain for the fun of it, but ultimately he always gives in. He’s acting like those spoiled brats he used to watch on TV, the kind his parents would shake their heads and cluck their tongues at. Robby likes it though. When Robby calls him a brat, it’s a term of endearment. 

But, the thing is, it’s convenient staying with Robby. So the plan is to keep Robby happy and keep living with Robby for as long as he can. Even after he graduates and starts earning his own paycheck, it’ll be rough on his own. Maybe he could stay here for another year or two, just until he gets his feet under him.

“I noticed you haven't been going out much,” Robby says apropos of nothing, three months into living together.

“Ugh, yeah. Too swamped with studies.” Their arms are pressed together on the couch, neither of them look away from the alien movie playing on the TV. “Why? What’s up?”

Robby clears his throat. “Just, uh, I was gonna get tested tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Dennis' stomach swoops in an unnameable feeling. “Maybe I should too. It's been a while.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Robby raises his arm after a moment, trying to pull Dennis to him, but Dennis wriggles away to the other end of the couch throwing his legs over Robby’s lap. 

“‘S too hot to cuddle.” He pouts.

The older man just shakes his head, squeezing Dennis’ ankle hard. “You’re getting too comfortable in my house.”

The next day, Robby picks him up from his evening class at university and drives him to PTMC hospital. He pulled a favor with a buddy who works there on the night shift which explains the weird hour. 

They get logged in at reception. It feels strangely intimate to hand his ID to Robby so Robby can hand it to the lady behind the window. Since they’re expected, they get led inside quickly to much grumbling from the other people in the waiting room. A nurse deposits them into a room saying, “Dr. Abbot will be with you shortly.”

Dennis looks around in wonder at the hustle and bustle of the emergency department. He’s not sure what specialty he’s going into yet but emergency medicine is definitely on his shortlist.

“Robinavitch, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” A man in black scrubs around Robby’s age shoulders into their room. He grasps Robby’s fist before pulling him into a hug. When the doctor catches sight of Dennis though, he frowns, raising his eyebrows at Robby. “Don’t tell me this is the guy you've been dating?”

… dating?

“I know what you’re thinking, Jack, and he’s older than he looks,” Robby says, defensive and guilty at the same time. 

“If you say so, brother,” Dr. Abbot says. “Look, if you're bringing him here it must be getting serious.”

… getting serious? 

At a loss, he glances at Robby only to see him actually blushing. Robby shrugs, bashfully scratching at the back of his neck, not denying anything. Dennis could throttle him. 

They get their blood drawn and sent to the labs. Two hours later, Dr. Abbot returns, handing each of them a sheet of paper with their results. All clean. Dr. Abbot claps Robby on the back, looking meaningfully between him and Dennis. 

“Dennis Whitaker, right?” Dr. Abbot says. “I thought that name sounded familiar. You’re part of our student intake in the fall.”

“I am?” Dennis gasps. “Wait, how did you know that?” 

“I’m the head of the emergency medicine department, Dr. Jack Abbot.” Dr. Abbot extends a hand for Dennis to shake. “I sent out the email today. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Dennis gawps like a fish out of water. Robby didn’t say his buddy was the senior attending. If he ends up working under Dr. Abbot, he’ll never recover from the embarrassment. 

“Well, it looks like Robby is in capable hands. Seeing as you two are already here, I guess I don’t need to give you the safe sex talk.”

After being discharged, Robby takes him out to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. They have gone out to eat a few times before, but it’s rare enough that it still feels like a treat. 

Dennis can guess what the special occasion is. He’s no stranger to casual sex, but he’s never had unprotected sex before. He is kind of curious if it will feel different. Robby will probably want to come inside him. He’s been on birth control for two weeks. It’ll be fine. 

“So…your buddy thinks we’re dating.” Dennis says, trying to fill the silence as they wait for their appetizers. “Should I call you boyfriend instead of daddy now?”

“If you want to,” Robby shrugs, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “Not like we’re seeing anyone else. You think I’m going to say no to a hot piece of ass like you?”

Dennis’ teasing look slowly disappears off his face as he realizes Robby is serious. Dennis can only hold his intense gaze for so long before he breaks eye contact. 

“Ye—” Dennis clears his throat, tries again. “Yeah?”

“Besides, you only call me daddy when you want something Den.”

Dennis huffs indignant, hiding his splotchy blush. He thought he had been so subtle. So much for Pavlov’s dog. “Well, fine, now I’ll call you boyfriend when I want something. Happy?”

(“What do you call me when you want something?” Dennis asks.

“I don’t know,” Robby says between mouthfuls of food. “I just give you money usually.”)

As soon as they get home, Robby corners him at the front door. Pawing and fondling him like a beast, asking if he can hit raw tonight. He’s surprised Robby is even asking in the first place, giving him an out. As if Dennis would refuse after the guy’s more than earned it— for putting him through med school or for being a good boyfriend, Dennis doesn’t know. 

They strip each other of their clothes before climbing into bed. Making out in the way that always gets Dennis needy, flushed, and fuzzy. Robby takes his time spreading Dennis open on two fingers, scissoring them apart to get him nice and ready. 

As much as Dennis has thought about it, he is still not prepared for the feeling of Robby pushing into him bare. He lets out an embarrassing mewl at the first press inside. It’s warmer and spongier and wetter than he’s used to. He hopes it feels just as devastating for Robby as it does for him. 

“Oh fuck, Den.” Robby’s eyes are glued to the join of their hips, his expression somewhere between wonder and hunger. Dennis clenches down on him experimentally, and he is rewarded by a deep groan from the older man. He can’t take his eyes off him.

Robby starts rocking slowly. Barely pulling out before grinding back in again, Dennis’ lips sucking obscenely around his base when he bottoms out. He can feel how sloppy and wet his cunt is. Every drag of Robby’s cock punching out the lewdest sounds. 

“Baby, I’m close,” Robby’s pupils are blown wide, taking in Dennis’ teary face for permission. “Tell me I can come inside.”

Dennis nods shakily, digging his heels into Robby’s ass to pull him deeper. “Yeah, you can. Inside—Come inside me. Hnngh… want you to.”

Robby’s hips stutter as he closes his eyes, falling forward with a groan. Dennis jerks as he feels the first hot splatter of come paint his insides. The older man riding out his orgasm with languid thrusts, pushing his spend even deeper inside his throbbing pussy.

It’s the most disgustingly tender sex they've ever had. Dennis hates it. 

***

Dennis has a week off before starting his rotations. He’s spending three days of it out on the lake with Robby in a rented cabin. His boyfriend is wearing a ridiculous apron, grilling hotdogs on the lawn. 

Boyfriend. The title is so trite and juvenile. It doesn’t suit Robby at all. 

Dennis stretches indulgently on his deck chair. The little elastic swim shorts he’s wearing are pushed low on his hips to reveal his growing happy trail. He’d taken his shirt off earlier to swim and he’s decided not to put it back on. He doesn't miss the way Robby's eyes linger on his chest, the barely-there tits. 

The thought occurs to him that Robby would probably offer to pay for his top surgery if he asked. Dennis pushes the idea away—along with the pang of guilt that comes with it—with practiced ease. Dennis grew up in the fucking Bible belt. Repressing guilt is second nature to him.

“You know, I almost bought this place a few years back,” Robby chuckles looking out at the lake, scratching at his scruffy jaw. “I always thought I’d bring my family here someday. Wife, two kids, and a dog.” 

Dennis hums noncommittal. Robby had said it in a way that indicated he wasn’t really expecting an answer. Just shooting the breeze. The idea irks him though, or maybe it’s mood swings from being on the pill. 

So Robby does want kids. Just not with Dennis, apparently. 

“You shouldn’t be coming inside me so much then,” Dennis mumbles.

“What was that?’

“Oh, nothing.” 

The sound of the grill sizzling and the wind in the trees fills the silence for a few minutes. Dennis falls in and out of a nap, wondering about when whatever this is stopped being about money. 

“...doesn’t have to be a wife…”

“Did you say something, Robby?”

“I said I’ll bring the hotdogs inside.”

***

Dennis was going to come clean. He really was. He didn’t think Robby would kick him out, but he was scared. (He didn’t think his parents would disown him either, and look how that turned out.) 

‘Hey, just so you know I’m not really a hooker. So I’ve basically been scamming you for two years now!’ doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. Would Robby even be upset to learn that they’re actual boyfriends and not paid-for boyfriends? He knows Robby likes this dynamic. He’s no stranger to hiring sex workers. Robby has admitted as much, something along the lines of not being cut out for a real relationship, paying for someone’s time being easier, zero commitment required, etc.

But Dennis had already quit his part-time job. Then he was busy starting his clinical rotations. Then his student loan payment was overdue and he had to dip into his savings. It was always one thing after another. 

Then Robby leaves on a road trip with Duke and his motorcycle gang for three days. Robby had invited him, but they both knew Dennis couldn’t get the time off. 

It’s fine. He’s lived without Robby most of his life, he can handle three days. He’ll be too exhausted with his 12-hour shifts to even notice he’s gone.

He waits for a reply for five minutes before giving up. They’re in Atlantic City of all places. Robby’s probably out at a bar or hitting the casinos. Idly, he wonders if there are hookers there. There probably are. 

Him and Robby haven’t been having as much sex as they used to. It’s not for a lack of desire, but more of a scheduling issue. Dennis leaves early in the morning and comes home late. He’s constantly exhausted, falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow most nights. 

Dennis tosses in bed, hate-imagining Robby getting a blowjob in a dinky bathroom somewhere, by a woman with cherry red lips and plush curves spilling out of her top.

Dennis stares at the notifications. He had left his phone in his locker for the whole shift in an attempt to not think about Robby. It didn’t work. 

He’s sad and horny. It’s only day two and he wants to ask Robby to come home but he won’t because that would be really uncool of him. Instead, he curls into Robby’s pillow wearing Robby’s unwashed shirt with two fingers shoved into his pussy. He hasn’t even changed the sheets since Robby left. It smells like the woodsy scented body wash they both share.

The image is a little blurry and dim. The selfie angled down to show him laid on the bed, limbs akimbo, hand pulling the shirt up to reveal a pebbled nipple. It’ll remind Robby he has something nice to come home to. 

He nearly drops his phone onto his face when it starts vibrating, his ringtone blaring through the quiet. He fumbles his grip, and before he knows it the call connects and—

“Den?” Robby’s voice sounds scratchy. He must have just woken up. “Finally picking up my calls, eh?”

Dennis makes a noise of acknowledgement, not trusting himself to say anything more eloquent yet. 

“You mad at me or something, babe?” Robby questions. “Sorry, the guys were planning this trip for months and you said it was fine—”

“Relax, I’m not mad,” Dennis huffs. He tucks his phone into his ear to pretend he’s laying on Robby’s chest, listening to the rumble of his voice that way. 

“O-kay,” Robby says, carefully. “My boyfriend ignores me all day then he sends me a fucking picture of him in my clothes… in my bed… Damn it, what do you want from me?”

Dennis thinks it’s affection he’s hearing, not exasperation, from the older man. He breathes out a sigh of relief, pouting even though Robby can’t see it. “I thought you’d be too busy having fun.” Dennis says, letting the silence on the line crackle on a bit. “Should I buy condoms before you come back?”

“Condoms? No, I didn’t–Oh,” Robby stops. Another stretch of quiet breathing. “Unless, you did—”

“Robby, you know I'm not really a–a sex worker.” Dennis fidgets, pulling the blankets completely over him. “Right?”

“Um, yeah?” Robby’s sudden laughter crackles over the line, deep and warm. “I figured that out a while ago, Den.” 

Dennis bolts up, voice going shrill in surprise. “Wait. You did? How?”

“You like kissing way too much.”

“Fuck. You.” Dennis answers automatically, but he can’t keep the relief from his voice, can’t wipe the stupid smile off his face. He listens to the sound of Robby’s snorting laughter from hundreds of miles away.

Dennis manages to leave his shift on time for once. It’s early enough that he has time to swing by the supermarket and get ingredients for a quick dinner. He leaves it covered on the stovetop while he showers and settles on the couch to wait.

Some time past 10PM, Dennis microwaves his bowl of rice and stir fry, chewing as he tries to focus on the reality show on TV. He doesn’t get up even when he hears the rumble of motorcycle engines on their street, ignores the footsteps climbing the stairs.

“Baby, you here? I’m home,” Robby says, dropping a heavy bag in the entry. His crow’s feet crinkle as he spots Dennis curled up on the couch.

Dennis has to bury the crazy impulse to run towards Robby and jump into his arms. They may be boyfriends but they’re not boyfriends. He doesn’t want to scare Robby off too soon by being so needy and—

Robby holds his arms open, smile warm and tired. 

Oh, Dennis thinks. Then he leaps over the back of the couch and launches himself into the older man, arms winding around his neck and legs scrabbling for purchase to wrap around his waist. Dennis presses wet open-mouthed kisses all over every little line and freckle on his precious face, mind chanting Robby, Robby, Robby. 

“You missed me,” Robby sounds like he can’t believe what he’s saying. Dennis can hardly believe it himself. “You really missed me.”

“Yeah, I missed you.” The tense ball of anxiety building over the last three days melts off his shoulders at the feeling of Robby’s strong beating heart under his palms. And because Dennis is a brat and he’s fucking embarrassed to be so lovey-dovey, he says, “Missed your wallet, more like.”

His lower lip quivers even as he says it and he looks up at the older man’s stricken expression, as tears well up in his blue eyes. “Sorry, sorry! Fuck, I didn’t—”

“Soon enough you’ll be making a doctor’s salary,” Robby says. “You won’t need my money then.”

“Like hell I won’t!” Dennis fists the other man’s shirt, ugly tears choking his voice, scared that he might have ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “I’ll still need you, Robby. If you –hic– think I’m gonna fucking –hic– leave after everything, you underestimate –hic– how greedy I can be. –hic–  I’m not letting you go –hic– I love you –hic– too much.”

Robby gazes at him, affection written on every line of his face, as Dennis finishes his outburst. He’s struck by the realization that it’s not the first time he’s seen that look. 

“Good to know.” The corner of Robby’s lip quirks up. “And here I was about to give you half my net worth just to keep you around.”

Dennis' mouth falls open as Robby pulls out a velvet box from an inside pocket of his jacket. “I, uh, won big at poker and then I saw this at the casino and thought of you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while actually…” The older man fidgets as he rambles, wiping his sweaty palms on his cargos. “Anyway, I was gonna wait until after your graduation next month but—”

Dennis shuts him up with a kiss.