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Robby is having a barbecue. At his house. His house that Dennis has not been to yet, because all of his extracurricular activities with Robby have been in bar bathrooms and hospital on-call rooms. Dennis would be a liar if he said he wasn’t excited to see it; he isn’t going to poke around or anything, but he’s curious as to the decor. What books he has on the coffee table (if any). What his bedroom looks like…
Dennis maybe shouldn’t think about that one too hard.
He probably also shouldn’t think about any of it too hard, because everyone is going. Dr. Abbot, Dana, Dr. McKay and her kid, Dr. Mahon, Mel, Victoria, even Trinity (because she suspects Dr. Garcia might be there). Pretty much anyone from the team who isn’t working ends up in Robby’s back garden, plus a few who swing by after their shift ends. Dennis’s invitation is nothing special. Though, when Robby goes to slip out of the on-call room the night before and lingers, turning to Dennis and asking, “You’re coming tomorrow, right?” That does feel kind of special.
It’s a nice day. There’s plenty of food and plenty of beer. Everyone’s in good spirits. It’s funny to see how people interact outside of the hospital, how everyone is looser. Dennis is no social butterfly, but it’s easy to socialise with them. These people have seen him at his worst, covered in blood, piss, vomit and all kinds, catching rats and making weak conversation with patients. They’ve been through hell and come out the other side together. It’s easy to get along with them all.
As the sun sets, people begin to disappear. McKay and her son leave first, followed in quick succession by Dana and Mel. People move inside, more people leave, and before Dennis knows it, it’s just him, Robby and Dr. Abbot.
Now it feels a little awkward. Dennis has no idea when Trinity left (though he suspects her quiet departure does have something to do with Garcia), but it feels kind of rude that she left without saying goodbye.
“I thought you were living with Santos,” Robby says, apparently also aware of her Irish goodbye. He holds out a glass of amber liquid. “She ditch you here?”
Dennis takes it. “I have a feeling she didn’t go home.”
“Ah.” Robby murmurs.
Dennis swirls the drink in his glass. He’s pleasantly buzzed off of the beer, but the fumes off this make him a little woozy. Or maybe that’s to do with Robby sitting down next to him on the couch, his knee bumping Dennis’s thigh as he gets comfortable. “What is this?”
“Bourbon.” Dr. Abbot answers, sitting in the arm chair across from the sofa. “Good stuff, too. You drink bourbon, kid?”
“Uh, no.” Dennis admits with a weak laugh. “No, my budget extends to off brand-vodka and as much hand sanitiser as I can steal from the wall dispensers.”
That makes both of them laugh, which makes Dennis feel all warm and tingly in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol. Smiling, he takes a sip of the bourbon. It isn’t bad, but it burns more than he’d expected it too. He hisses, which makes them laugh again, and Dennis laughs too until Robby’s hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes.
That makes him blink owlishly, looking at Abbot, who shakes his head and tips his glass to take a drink. Dennis looks at Robby, who smiles warmly, a little more warmly than Dennis is used to — must be the alcohol, Dennis thinks. He expects Robby to take his hand away but he doesn’t; it lingers there on Dennis’s shoulder, keeping a hold of him as he takes more tentative sips of bourbon.
“Alright then, I suppose we’d better ask—“ Abbot says, leaning forward in his seat. “How’re you finding emergency medicine?”
Dennis feels like jumping to attention. He feels, despite the laid back setting and the drink in his hand, like he is now on trial. “I love it.” He says, maybe a little too eager. Robby chuckles softly next to him.. “My last rotation was internal medicine,” Dennis continues, looking between the two of them. “Which was fine. But this— it’s like every speciality all at once. It’s helping people who need the most. It’s just also… insanely stressful.”
“That’s true.” Abbot agrees. “But you find ways to relieve the stress, and that helps keep your balance. How do you relax after a shift?”
“Oh, he’s got ways of relaxing.” Robby chuckles, patting Dennis’s shoulder with the hand that lingers there.
Dennis looks at him like a spooked hare, head whipping round to look at Dr. Abbot. He gives him the same startled look, wondering if he’s going to have to drop out of his programme, maybe move departments, maybe somehow give both Robby and Abbot amnesia so they never remember these moments— but Abbot simply chuckles, leaning back in his seat again.
“Is that so?” He asks, taking another sip of his drink. “Is that the same way me and you used to relieve stress after a long shift?”
Now Dennis feels less like he’s been put under the spotlight and more like he’s the one trying to shine it, looking from left to right and back again. Robby is chuckling still, nodding as he says, “Yeah. Well — no. The kid’s a lot less aggressive than you were.”
Abbot snorts softly, still leaning forward, looking at Dennis the way the bulls on his father’s farm used to. Up and down, and up and down again, nostrils flaring a little, deciding if they were going to charge. Dennis gulps, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. He takes a sip of the bourbon, but it doesn’t help.
“I can’t believe you haven’t been sharing your new pet, Robby.” Abbot says after a beat, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Selfish.”
Dennis smiles weakly, as if being called Robby’s pet and spoken about like he’s some kind of sex toy doesn’t make him so hot he could spontaneously combust. “There’s plenty of me to go around.” He says, aiming for a joke, but his voice wobbles a little. Robby’s hand squeezes his shoulder.
Abbot gives him that look again. If Dennis was on the farm right now, he’d have backed away towards the gate. “Yeah?”
Dennis is so transfixed by the hunger in Abbot’s eyes that he barely notices Robby take the drink from his hand, or reach up to touch his face, turning Dennis’s head with two fingers at his jawline so that Robby can kiss him.
It’s a little messy and tastes like booze but it makes Dennis’s knees feel weak and his stomach do somersaults. His hair is getting longer now thanks to Trinity’s insistence for him to grow it out, and so it’s easy for Robby to run his fingers through it and pull. Dennis gasps against his lips, reaching out to grip the front of Robby’s t-shirt, holding it tightly so that he can’t move away.
And he might’ve been so caught up in making out with his boss that he forgot all about his other boss, even as the couch dipped on his other side and new hands pawed at his neck and his jaw. Abbot pulls Dennis to him with a hand at the back of his neck, strong and stable, fingertips digging into the spot right over Dennis’s carotid. Whether he did it intentionally or not, Dennis is sure that Abbot can feel his pulse jump under his skin as Abbot kisses him, his lips still wet with Robby’s saliva.
“You can back out if you want to, kid.” Robby says, his voice right by his ear, and like a good boy Dennis turns his head to find him, pulling back from Abbot. Robby’s face is close, merely inches away from Dennis’s own, and it catches Dennis off guard for a second. His head is swimming, and he doesn’t think it’s from the alcohol. “You want this?”
Dennis blinks, mute. Does he wants this? Does he want his two hot older bosses fucking him in tandem? He wishes he had adequate words to explain to Robby just how much he wants this. Dennis can be pretty eloquent, when he wants to be. He always had a good vocabulary, the product of Sunday school, he thinks. But he can’t form any words. He merely nods, slowly at first and then vigorously, shifting to kiss Robby and then Abbot in quick succession. When he does find his voice, there’s only one word he can muster: “Please.”
“Atta boy.” Abbot smirks. Dennis expects more kissing, but Abbot turns to Robby, and asks, “Bedroom?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Robby agrees, and before he knows it Dennis is being hailed to his feet.
Abbot half directs and half drags him to the bed. Dennis sprawls out on it, feeling the soft sheets and, the firm mattress (probably memory foam, probably good for his back or something) beneath him. He’s in his room. He’s in Robby’s fucking bedroom. The only explanation for this is that he’s dead. He’s died and gone to heaven and heaven is a bedroom with periwinkle blue walls and a mahogany dresser and a bed that actually looks deceptively small for such a big guy.
“Lube and everything’s in the bedside table.” Robby says, which makes Dennis sit up, another bout of classical conditioning kicking in. Usually when people are telling him where things are it’s because they’re expecting him to fetch them — portable urinals are in the dirty sluice room, bandage and gauze is in the supply closet, the machine on the third floor outside paeds might have a spare pair of scrubs in his size.
But before he can move Robby is on him, straddling Dennis on the bed. From the noise off to his right, Dennis assumes that Abbot is rifling through the bedside drawer, but he doesn’t turn to look. He’s looking at Robby, whose eyes are darker than Dennis has ever seen them. It makes his cock twitch, already half hard just from the manhandling. Whether or not Robby feels it, Dennis has no idea, but it happens again when Robby gives a low chuckle.
“Forgot how to take off your clothes?” Robby asks, reaching for the hem of Dennis’s t-shirt. “Allow me.”
Robby pulls it up and over Dennis’s head, tossing it aside, to where Dennis has no idea. He quite frankly couldn’t give a shit. Robby kisses him again, but instead of running his hand over Dennis’s newly exposed torso, he slips it down the front of his pants instead.
Dennis groans softly, leaning back to give Robby more room, hands propping himself up on the bed. It pulls the muscles of his stomach tight, so who knows how long he can hold it, but he’ll hold it forever if Robby asks him to. He palms Dennis’s cock through his underwear, squeezing his balls through the thin fabric at exactly the same time as he kisses along Dennis’s neck. It’ll be red later, Dennis thinks, scratch marks from his beard. He hopes it leaves a mark.
“We taking the pants off any time today?” Abbot asks. Dennis’s head feels too heavy as he rolls his gaze to look at him, blinking through the Robby-induced fog. When Robby laughs his breath is hot against Dennis’s neck, and goosebumps rise on his flesh.
“You’re so impatient, you know that?” He says, looking up at Abbot. With a sigh he pulls back, making Dennis whimper as he pulls his hand from his pants, but in the same breath he unzips them and begins to pull them down Dennis’s hips. He’s feeling once again like some kind of toy, something for Robby and Abbot to use because they’re bored or they’re kinda drunk or they just want to fool around.
Dennis fucking loves it.
His pants and boxers join his shirt somewhere on the floor, and Dennis has the brief thought of feeling self conscious; never once did he think Abbot was ever going to see him naked. He’d be a fucking liar if he said he’d never thought about it, but still. He never thought it’d actually happen.
“Hands and knees, kid,” Abbot directs him, and Dennis scrambles to comply, limbs sinking into the mattress as he struggles to get into the right position. It takes him a second, but he manages.
With his head at one side of the bed, feet at the other, he can still see a good amount of the room. He watches Robby as he comes around to the other side of the bed, crouching in front of Dennis so that he’s looking up at him. He can’t see where Abbot is, because now he’s transfixed by Robby’s dark brown eyes, which look almost black in the dim lighting of his bedroom, hungrier and more wanting than Dennis has ever seen them, he thinks.
“Jack’s gonna fuck you.” Robby explains, in the same soft tone Dennis has seen him use a thousand times as he talks a patient through a procedure. God, it’s hot. And it’s really going to fuck up Dennis’s next shift. “And you’re gonna take it like a good boy, isn’t that right?”
Dennis nods fervently, his cock twitching the same way it always does when Robby tells him to be a good boy. Abbot’s hand is on Dennis’s ass, two slick fingers circling his hole as he says, “Let’s see how good Robby’s got you trained, huh?”
He pushes both fingers inside without warning or preamble and Dennis swears, blasphemes so hard he’s sure his mother just shuddered somewhere in rural Nebraska. Robby at least normally takes it a little bit gentler when they first get going, but Abbot pushes both fingers in, all the way up to the last knuckle, before pulling them out and fucking Dennis open with them.
It’s a punishing, brutal kind of pace; Abbot really is impatient. Dennis sways with the force of it, gasping, panting, squeezing his eyes shut whenever Abbot rubs over that sweet spot inside of him. But whenever he closes his eyes, he hears Robby’s voice say, “Ah, ah, ah - keep ‘em open, sweetheart. Let me see you.”
Dennis doesn’t know how he manages it, but he does. He forces his eyes open, mouth falling open as well as Abbot fucks him on his fingers, loosening him up. The slick sound of the lube is obscene, almost too loud, and Dennis swears again as his cock throbs, oozing at the tip. Robby reaches beneath him, stroking Dennis’s cock and watching him intently as he does, squeezing every time Dennis’s eyelids flutter, going slower whenever he looks like he might cry.
After what feels like too long and not enough time at all, Abbot pulls his fingers away. Robby lets go of his cock at the same time, the sudden lack of stimulation making Dennis feel like he might implode. Robby stands, his hand cupping Dennis’s jaw, turning his face up to look at him. “Wanna show Dr. Abbot how clever you are?”
Dennis has absolutely no idea what that means, but he really doesn’t fucking care; he nods anyway, groaning softly when Abbot laughs behind him. Robby unzips his pants, and for the first time Dennis notices just how hard he is, and the realisation makes his mouth water. Almighty god, he hopes this is going where he thinks it’s going.
He feels the bed dip behind him as Abbot rests one knee on it, and he feels the blunt head of his cock as he lines up against his hole. Abbot’s hand is on his hip, right where Robby normally holds onto him, but Dennis can feel the difference, he’s sure of it. He knows what Robby’s hands feel like on his skin, now. Could tell them apart from any others, he knows it.
“Ready, kid?” Abbot asks, surprisingly gentle. Dennis, again, can’t find his words. He nods enthusiastically as Robby pushes his briefs down to produce his cock, rock hard and leaking down his shaft. How’s he supposed to be able to speak when that’s his view?
Robby strokes his cock languidly, watching how Dennis’s eyes follow the movement. “Speak up, sweetheart.”
“Yes.” Dennis chokes out. “Please, fuck– yes.”
Abbot laughs again – Dennis will never be able to associate the sound with anything else now – and pushes into him in one agonisingly slow press of his hips. “Open up.” Robby instructs, tapping Dennis’s jaw with one finger, and Dennis does so without so much as blinking.
It’s almost immediately too much as Abbot’s balls hit Dennis’s ass and Robby’s cock hits the back of his throat. He gags a little, and as he does he squeezes around Abbot’s cock, pulling a muffled curse from him.
“God damn, you’re tight.” He groans, squeezing Dennis’s hips tightly, at the exact same time as Robby cards a hand through his hair and says, “Take it easy, kid.”
Once again, Dennis is sure he's going to die. He’s going to die right here and now, with Abbot fucking him slowly and deeply, each thrust forcing Robby’s cock down his throat. Or maybe he was right the first time and he’s already dead, and this is his own personal heaven. Surely heaven is personalised, and surely that means Dennis gets to have whatever he wants, and this is exactly what he wants. Dennis’s eyes water, but he tries to be good, remembers to hollow his cheeks, flick his tongue over the slit of Robby’s cock whenever he has the chance. It’s worth it for the way Robby pulls at his hair and hisses out a breath every time.
“That’s it,” Robby groans, “Fuck.” Dennis gags again, pushed too far forward when Abbot slams his cock into him again, making Dennis see stars. Dennis flattens his tongue, lathes it along the underside of Robby’s cock as Robby pants, “Keep going. Good boy, taking it like a fucking champ–” It’s all the incentive Dennis needs. When he’s pulled back almost entirely off Robby’s cock he suckles at the tip, moaning at the taste of precum in his mouth, and when Abbot fucks into him again, pushing him forward once more, Dennis feels Robby’s hand tighten in his hair, keeping him close as he comes down his throat.
Dennis almost chokes, but he swallows every drop, the taste of it only bringing him closer to the edge along with every flex of Abbot’s hips. Without Robby’s cock in his mouth it’s easier to focus on just how hard Abbot is working to split him open.
“Good fucking boy.” Robby pants, running his hand through Dennis’s hair again.
From behind him, Abbot grunts, “C’m’ere.”
Dennis feels a hand at his throat, pulling him upward so that he’s kneeling on the bed, spearing him on Abbot’s cock. He lets out a noise that’s halfway between a moan and a squeal, his vision whiting out for a second at the new angle. “Oh f-fuck–” He manages, Abbot’s hand still tight around his throat, keeping him close as he starts to pound into him again.
Robby kneels on the bed in front of him, spitting into his hand and wrapping it around Dennis’s cock, stroking in time with each slam of Abbot’s hips. The sound of skin on skin makes precum ooze at Dennis’s tip, which Robby wipes away with his thumb, earning another moan from him.
“Come on,” Robby says, right in Dennis’s face, hand still moving in perfect timing with Abbot. “Who’s gonna make you come first, huh?”
Dennis would like to say that it’s a team effort, but he’s currently trying not to pass out. He can feel the tell-tale tightening in his stomach, the sweat beading at his brow, his heart hammering away in his chest. He locks eyes with Robby as he gasps, and then moans, covering his stomach and Robby’s hand as he comes. He tightens involuntarily around Abbot’s cock, earning a few more hissed curse words before the metronome rhythm of his hips falters, and Abbot stills deep inside of him, his forehead pressed to Dennis’s back as he rides out his own high.
“Fuck.” Dennis mumbles as Abbot pulls away and Robby releases his cock. Even kneeling, his legs shake; Abbot grabs him from behind with one arm, lowering him to lie on his side. He realises how damp the sheets are, what kind of a mess he’s made. If he wasn’t already bright pink in the face, he’d blush.
“Towels in the usual spot?” Abbot asks, already heading out of the room.
Robby tilts his head, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at Dennis. “Feeling okay?”
“Yeah.” Dennis croaks. “Never better. Fucking fantastic, actually.”
Robby laughs, leans down to press a kiss to Dennis’s temple, more gentle than he usually is after a session like this. “Rest up here, if you like. We’ll get you cleaned up.”
Rest up here. Here being Robby’s bed, in Robby’s bedroom, in Robby’s house.
He turns his face into what he presumes is Robby’s pillow and breathes deeply, unabashedly. He’ll face not being able to look at Abbot ever again when they’re next on shift together. For now he decides to take Robby up on his offer - not that he has much choice. He’s pretty sure his bones are made of soup and all of his musculature has turned into putty.
A glass of water appears on the bedside table, and Dennis is remotely aware of someone wiping over his sticky stomach. It’s Abbot’s voice he registers first, saying, “You were right, he really is a good kid.”
To which Robby chuckles, saying, “Told you so. You go clean yourself up, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
The bed dips, and something, probably a blanket, is laid over Dennis’s bare side. The hand carding through his hair is just about the last thing he registers before he passes out.