Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Here, take this.” Trinity looked at Dennis expectantly. She was holding out her coat from last winter.

“I’m good! I promise. We’re going to be late, and I’m not an R2 like you.”

Dennis and Trinity had an oddly domestic relationship after living together for a year. Dennis cooked. Dennis also did most of the cleaning, but Trinity did the laundry and bought groceries, so he figured it was pretty even. He even had her location when she went off to her hookups.

And Trinity actually worried for Dennis. She tried not to, but the moment she saw that twink dancing to Chaka Khan, she was in it. She wanted him the way a little girl wanted a pony. An impractically dependent friend she knew nothing about taking care of. He was too precious to be alone and she cursed herself for always needing to be there for the lost. She kinda loved it too.

But that also meant that every time Dennis walked out without a coat in the Pittsburgh October, she felt…maternal or something.

“Just put it on, giblet.” Never refer to human organs as giblets in front of doctors. They’ll think you’re weird, apparently.

Dennis walked out the door without grabbing it. He’d gotten sassy over the year. His roommate brought it out of him.

“I’m leaving,” he said in a sing-song voice. “I’ll buy your Dunkin if you drop it.”

“Fine, but come December, you’ll need it. And I won’t let you borrow it, either.”

“Sure, Trin, whatever you say.” He laughed, knowing the threat was empty. Santos was a big softie underneath all the irony.

Trinity kept the car running while Dennis went inside and picked up their mobile order. He got the points today. Dennis ordered an iced coffee. “That’s so gay of you.” She said.

Trinity got a black drip with 2 sugars. “What? Is it lesbian of you to like bitter shit?”

“I think women find black coffee attractive, yes.” Dennis wouldn’t know.

She turned back onto the street. “I can’t believe you won’t wear a coat. It’s, like, 35 degrees and you’re in a scrub top.” She kept her eyes on the road, seeing the results of too many car accidents to get distracted.

Dennis took a long sip of his cold beverage. Light and sweet. He didn’t want to hear the jokes about it.

“You know I don’t feel cold.”

“But you can still get frostbite!” He sighed; they’d had this conversation many times before. “I know you don’t feel pain and all that macho shit, but you’re not invincible. You take damage like the rest of us normies.”

Dennis didn’t feel pain. More like couldn’t. He had a rare condition called Congenital Insensitivity to Pain. It was so rare, it didn’t even have a cool name. His brain was wired weird, the channels that were supposed to communicate tissue damage didn’t fire right. He had never felt the sensation of physical pain in his life. Discomfort, stretching, bloating, exertion. Sure. But never pain.

Everyone back home treated it like it was a superpower. They made him feed the cattle on frigid mornings. Had him face off with the combative bulls they needed to tag. Let him be their dad’s punching bag.

And Dennis could take it, really, he could. It was better him than anyone else who would actually feel it. Trinity was the first person he’d met who thought differently.

She had this novel idea that it made him more in need of care. His lack of a warning system made him more fragile. “Let the people with fair notice take on the tasks that could get you gravely injured.” Is what she would say to him anytime she climbed up on a ladder to change their bulbs or peeled potatoes for him.

It made him feel warm. Nobody had ever cared like that. Not about him. Pain wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to someone. Dennis was probably a bad person to ask, though.

They walked in together, like they had for any shared shift for the past year. Dana tried to schedule them the same, knowing they drove in together. It was so fun to explain to Robby that they were, in fact, not dating. Super gay and just platonically partnered for now, thank you! Dennis didn’t mention that his fingers were going a little numb from his drink. He’d be in the heat soon, and Trinity would just worry.

When they got inside and split for the locker rooms, Dennis noticed almost everyone was wearing long sleeves under their scrubs. He owned a couple but didn’t wear them until it was objectively weird not to. Robby had on that Carhartt jacket that all of Dennis’s inappropriate crushes back home had.

“Hey, kid! Where’s your jacket?” Robby cared about him, too. In that overly concerned, ‘I’m not sure you can take care of yourself,’ way. Dennis loved it because of his daddy issues. He’d never say that out loud, though.

Dennis put his code in. “I forgot it.”

“Again? I don’t know how you don’t run back in the house when you feel the air outside.” Robby opened his locker again. “I think I have an extra in here somewhere.”

Dennis was horrified. He couldn’t wear his boss's jacket like a teenage girl at a high school football game. “No! You don’t have to do that! I’m fine, really.”

Robby did have an extra. He was always freezing, even in the summer. “No, I can’t have my residents catching colds.” That wasn’t even medically sound. When Dennis didn’t take the jacket, Robby stepped closer and pushed it forward into his chest. “Come on, it’ll make me feel better.”

“O-Ok.” Dennis may not feel pain but he sure felt pressure. He folded under Robby’s.

He put it on, and obviously, it was too big. Dennis was much shorter and not as broad. He heard Trinity’s voice calling him Twinkie.

The older man laughed at his predicament. Then he did something terrible. He rolled up his sleeves for him. Dennis was damn near breathless when he got to the left hand. Jesus Christ, this will be a long day if Robby is already hovering and touching like this. He gets in moods where he likes to control what everyone does. Dennis is the one who bends to it the easiest, though, so he often bears the brunt. He didn’t even mind, which was probably the worst part.

When they walked out for the morning huddle, Trinity took one look at him and cackled. “My coat not good enough for ya? Or did you just wanna smell like daddy?” At least she had the decency to whisper it.

“Shut up. I should’ve never told you that.”

Robby announced that they had a couple of student doctors starting their rotations with them today. He called over his residents and assigned them to supervise a student. Dennis and Trinity were in charge of a meek girl named Layla.

“She's going to be eaten alive.”

Dennis looked positively scandalized. “Trinity, that’s so mean. Also, she can hear you.”

Layla, blushing a little, stammered out, “It’s ok. She’s right. I want to go into family medicine. This is a little intense for me.” She was looking around like there was a bomb hidden. Well, there was certainly enough beeping for it.

Dennis, taking pity, said, “You’ll do great! I didn’t think I would like it much either when I got here.”

They went to the board to get their first patient of the day. The next up was a pilonidal cyst that needed draining and packing. Dennis took the reins in interacting with the student. Trinity wasn’t exactly warm to many people. “Alright, central 7 needs draining and packing. You can assist me with the procedure, and then you can give the wound care instructions afterwards.” Layla looked a little queasy at the idea of draining someone’s butt crack cyst but she would get over it. “Ok? Let’s do this.”

“And while you two take a crack at the crack, I’ll take head lac for 300, Alex.”

“Isn’t it Ken Jennings now?”

“Don’t talk about that, I don’t like him.”

They separated to go to their respective assignments.

Their patient was standing beside the bed, looking anywhere except for them. “Hello, Johnathon. I’m Dr. Whitaker. This is student doctor Flores. She’s going to assist in today’s procedure if that’s Ok.” Dennis triple checked the chart while he sat down on his rolling stool. “You have a cyst that is causing you some discomfort?”

“Yeah, I can’t even sit down without it hurting. My wife made me come in finally.” He was bashful.

Dennis tried to ease his discomfort, understanding this seemed embarrassing to someone who didn’t deal with much worse on a daily basis. “I’m glad you did. These are very painful and can become infected, so it’s good you got it checked out. Would you mind pulling down your pants and underwear and turning around so we could have a look?”

“Buy me dinner first?” They both laughed while Layla still looked bewildered. When the man turned around, Dennis gave her a look. Nonverbally telling her to act like she’s been somewhere before.

Dennis examined the area. “Oh yeah, that needs to be drained, alright. The nurse explained the procedure to you, correct?”

“Yeah, you numb me, make a little cut, pack it, I change the gauze at home, and get it checked out by someone in a couple weeks.”

“Perfect! Flores, could you hand me the general aesthetic?” He injected it into the area and tapped around, asking the patient if he could feel anything. When he was properly numbed, he asked for the scalpel to puncture it. He heard Layla gasp. It broke his concentration. He was going to tell her to get a stronger stomach until he saw there were tears in her eyes. Did this girl never watch the videos of surgery they had to take notes on? She wasn’t even looking at the cyst.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Whitaker. Oh my God!”

The patient was now nervous. “What’s going on back there?”

“Everything is alright!” The resident insisted. “Flores, go get some air.”

“What? You need to go get help!” She gasped out between heavy breaths. She was pointing at his foot until Dennis looked down. Oh shit, there’s a scalpel in there.

Dennis took a deep breath to collect himself. It was more annoying than anything. “Sir, we are going to step out for a moment and someone else will come in to drain you in a moment.” Dennis didn’t make a habit of leaving men bent over tables but he didn’t know the protocol for this.

They stepped back out onto the floor and Layla was practically hyperventilating at this point. It was happenstance that Trinity was walking out at the same time.

“Fuckleberry, what happened? Did she crash?” Dennis lifted his foot to pull the scalpel out. He could dress it himself and move on. It was more of an inconvenience to have to get new shoes. “Whoa, what the hell, Dennis? You can’t just rip that out! You’re a doctor, you know that.”

Trinity didn’t like being this concerned in public. Her unusual tone brought attention to them. Also, Layla's blubbering, probably.

With Dennis’s luck (and pet status), their attending came over instantly. “What’s the commotion?” Layla and Trinity pointed at Dennis’s foot. Robby paled. “Oh shit. Let’s get you in a room.” He took in the younger man’s neutral expression; he almost looked more embarrassed than anything. “Are you going into shock?” He asked while grabbing a wheelchair close to them.

“Is he? I’m so sorry, Dr. Whitaker!”

“No, you’re fine, Flores. It doesn’t even hurt.” He said it like some kind of inside joke. Maybe it was because Trinity did a strangled laugh.

Robby brought the wheelchair to the back of his thighs and pulled him down by the hood of his own hoodie until he was sitting. “Let’s get you checked out.”

“We can just yank it out and slap some glue on it. I swear I’m fine.”

Robby was incredulous. “What the fuck, Whitaker? You’re getting this checked out.”

“It’s just the meat, I can still wiggle my toes even!” This kid was going to kill him.

Trinity felt those weird maternal instincts again, even though the man was only a year younger. “He needs imaging. He wouldn’t be able to tell if there was any real damage.”

“Trin.” He sighed out. Dennis didn’t like people knowing about his condition. It made them weird.

“Obviously, he’s getting imaging. Flores, go tell Dana to assign McKay to your patients.” He looked at her tearful eyes and wringing hands. “And go take a break after.” He sounded angrier than he meant to but this student and her butterfingers just hurt Whitaker.

Robby moved faster than he would for other patients, didn’t even tell Dana which room he was taking up. She would understand. She had a similar soft spot for the kid… Maybe not in the exact same way. He let Santos follow along. He didn’t understand their relationship but she would insist on staying. He could use the assist anyway, make this go faster. His boy shouldn’t be in pain for a minute longer than he had to be. Whoa, crazy thought there, Robinavitch.

Dennis stood up and put himself on the table before Dr. Robby could tell him not to. “Grab me a suture kit and some numbing spray, please.” He asked Santos.

“I don’t need any anesthetic.”

He couldn’t believe this. “I don’t know how they did it on the farm, but here, you get numbed for stitches. Besides, I think your adrenaline is going to catch up to you. You’re not understanding how much this hurts yet.”

That’s when Trinity chimed in. “Tell him, Dennis.” Secrets between residents made Robby uncomfortable. He’d felt hyper-vigilant since Langdon.

Dennis put his head back and let out an immature groan. “Fine! I have Congenital Insensitivity to Pain. I literally feel nothing from this except for some immobility because the scalpel is sticking my foot to my shoe. Just rip it out and glue it. It’s not a big deal.”

Santos and Robby both said “No!” At the same time, in the same exasperated way.

“You’re going to make this a thing, aren’t you? There are people in real pain waiting. I don’t need this.”

Robby couldn’t believe any of it. Dennis was practically a case study, but also the most self-sacrificing person he’s ever met. “It’s even more of a thing now. You need to get an ortho consult if you can’t tell us about any pain. This is a big deal, Whitaker. Why didn’t you tell me?” The last part sounded scornful and personal. He looked away from his resident, noticing Santos was still there, and barked, “Santos! Go get the kit! And page imaging and ortho while you’re out.”

Before she left the room, she turned around and wiggled her eyebrows behind the attendings back. She was so going to make fun of Robby getting all protective over him. Dennis would have to pretend he wasn’t stupidly flattered by it.

Robby carefully removed the scalpel at a perpendicular angle. Taking care to do it in the direction it entered. He slipped off Dennis's cheap non-slip shoe. Size eight. He’d get him some nice ones for his trouble. Just put them in his locker so he couldn’t turn them down. It’s not like he would even notice if his shoes were bad, but the long-term effects could catch up. This was crazy.

His sock had blood on it and it made Robby feel pain for him. “So, if I remember correctly, people with your condition don’t feel temperature extremes either.

Dennis looked away from his foot and into his lap. “Yeah, I can give you back your hoodie. I didn’t want to take it for no reason but I also didn’t want to explain…all of this.”

“That’s not what I was implying.” He sounded so frustrated in a way Dennis wasn’t used to. It was true that he took a softer tone with Dennis. The young man had figured their trauma bond from Pittfest made him a little softer toward him. Indebted in a way Dennis would never actually enforce. “I was getting at the fact that you think your lack of sensation means you aren’t putting yourself in danger. You’re going to hurt yourself one day, and you may not notice until it’s too late.”

“I’m made of strong stuff. I’ll be fine.”

“And how will you know when you aren’t?”

Dennis had no answer besides, “I’ve always been fine."

Robby glared at him. “You haven’t been if you think it’s Ok to neglect yourself like this just because you experience it less obviously.”

Santos came back in. The two were tense and Dennis was getting dressed down by Dr. Robby in the way he wouldn’t like.

“Thank you, Santos. You may resume your duties. Please tell Dana that Dr. Whitaker will not be returning until he has a full workup.” He ordered without taking his eyes off Dennis’s face. He put a new pair of gloves on like he wasn’t benching a resident for hours. Trinity, for once in her life, followed without complaint. She had been wanting Dennis to get bloodwork since she first found out about this when he bled all over the carrots he was cutting before he noticed anything was wrong.

“A full workup? Come on!” His brows were furrowed.

“You’re lucky that’s all it is. I oughta…” Robby trailed off.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’ll send Princess in to take your blood and they’ll test it for everything you could possibly have this side of the Mississippi. Hope you use condoms, cause if you don’t, we’ll know.”

Dennis let out an indignant noise. “Princess will tell everyone!”

“Good. That’s your punishment for keeping secrets from me.” His sutures were fast and efficient. Beautiful work. Then the older man left like he hadn’t just carpet bombed Dennis’s brain.

All his tests came back normal. Radiology signed off on the foreign object missing anything important. Ortho agreed. The dissolvable sutures would dissolve on their own within a couple of weeks. It would all just be another scar on Dennis’s body. Except for the fact that Robby brought up punishing him was replaying in his head.

Dennis knew he didn’t mean it like that, but, well, Dennis was a bit of a freak.

He’d grown up too repressed and isolated to have developed a healthy sexual appetite. He pushed it down further and further until it all popped out in the most twisted, debaucherous ways possible. In one year, he’d gone from blushing virgin theology undergrad to getting pounded by strangers and calling them sir. He used to be scared to jerk off because God was watching, and now he liked getting hands shoved down his pants in front of God and everybody at the club.

He’d been so slutty that he didn’t feel worthy of being a man of the cloth anymore. God couldn’t even forgive the amount of dick he’d taken and words he’d spewed out at the height of pleasure. If Jesus wept, Dennis would probably be into it.

That’s all to say that after he’d filled out the workers comp form and been sent home, he’d replayed that moment with his attending a million times. He’d put that gruff voice to a different slide show of pictures in his head saved from past moments, and gotten off to the meandering stories twice before Santos had gotten home around eight.

It was inappropriate and probably a violation of Dr. Robby. A man who was happily married to someone Dennis really respected. A real man. A veteran who had felt real pain. Is he disrespecting his country with these fantasies? Whatever.

Robby was thankful Abbot had the night off. It was a week where he was three days on, so they could see a lot of each other. The bastard can’t cook for shit. Something about never learning because the military has chefs and being too old to learn now. So they ordered Thai.

They had been married a while. Long enough for them both to acknowledge that you can develop silly crushes on people and it did not diminish your love for someone. They personally felt like being open about it was a safeguard against fucking everything up. They were no good if they got all dark and twisty inside and hid it from the other.

Robby was eating drunken noodles on the couch and not watching a World War 2 documentary on the History Channel. When did they get so old? It made what he was about to say feel even more wrong.

“I accidentally told Whitaker I wanted to punish him.”

Jack nearly choked on his curry and rice. “Jesus, Mike, warn a guy before you bring up BDSM over dinner.”

“I didn’t even mean to do it! He just pissed me off and wasn’t taking it seriously, and it activated something in me.”

Recovered, Jack was back to full form. He smirked at his husband. “He activated something in you the minute you saw those big eyes. Don’t act like it was something you discovered today.”

Robby glared a little at his husband. “I don’t want to talk about my inappropriate attraction to my first-year resident.”

“I think you do. Why else bring it up?”

Robby would never tell him that was a good point. He swallowed nothing, his food less important now. “I don’t know. It just felt…wrong to not tell you. I think I crossed a line.”

“What happened? I’m sure it’s ok.” His face was sincere now. No teasing in sight.

Robby told him everything. About Dennis getting hurt and not feeling it at all. How he doesn’t seem to care about taking care of himself. It was definitely a HIPAA violation, but Jack wouldn’t tell anyone. “Yeah, I’m completely fine with that. It’s kinda hot, honestly.”

“Don’t make fun of this, please. I’m in serious emotional and professional turmoil.” Robby could be so dramatic sometimes.

“No, I’m not making fun.” He kissed his teeth a little. A habit he’d picked up from a man long dead. “What if I gave you permission?”

“Permission to do what?”

“Feel him out. Or up. Whichever.”

Robby scoffed a little like it was ridiculous. “We’ve never done that before. I’m sure this little thing will pass. I’ve probably just conflated some protective instincts with attraction, and his obvious respect for me has muddied some lines.” Neither of them would point out that Robby had felt this way since the kid’s rotation. That it had been over half a year of increasing feelings. Jack would say it’s close to pining if Robby wouldn’t shut down at the implication.

Jack put his dinner on the coffee table, feeling like it was getting too serious to be casually leaning back. “Listen, I know you have these feelings and I don’t let you express them as often as you need. I have the same feelings too. We are compatible in every way. The sex is awesome. Mind-blowing that two old men can have sex that good, honestly.” He paused to keep Robby’s eye contact. “But maybe you need someone who will help you let off steam that way. Maybe I could use it too, provided he’s up for it.”

“Are you seriously suggesting we invite our subordinate into our bed as our submissive because we’re both too alpha for the other one to put up with?”

“I guess I am, yeah.” He raised his eyebrows to challenge Robby. Say you don’t want it. Say you think it’s gross. Say you don’t think it’s the best goddamn idea I’ve ever had, is what it said.

Robby let out an aroused little sigh that sounded a little too stressed for Jack's liking. Fuck his food getting cold, he needed to pounce on this while the iron was hot.

Jack put his hand on Robby’s thigh. Pretending to just caress but they both knew what it was. Robby was maintaining his composure. He would not sound breathy as he said, “You know it’s a bad idea.”

“What, giving us someone who likes being pinned down. Who will let you smack him around a little? Maybe we buy him a phone from this decade. His still has a home button.” He moved his hand up to the crotch of Robby’s pants and went for the jugular. “Bring someone in who will actually call you Daddy.”

“Oh fuck.” Robby sighed. “That’s not fair.”

Jack got closer to say it in Robby’s ear. In that quiet, sexy voice. “It's not fair that our sex is so good when we’re both doms. I think it would be more than fair to Whitaker to show him how good we could treat him.” Jack started kissing his neck when Robby’s head tilted back to rest on the couch cushion.

Robby pushed his own pants and boxers down, wanting to move this along. Reduce the amount of time Jack had to implant ideas in his head about this actually happening. Jack spat in his hand and gave his husband what he wanted. He’s always had a smart mouth, and Robby could pretend to hate it, but he loved the dirty talk.

Jack continued, “Just imagine, his big eyes watching us, he could sit in that chair and would have to ask to touch himself. I’d say no, of course, until you gave in. You’re much softer than me, you know.” Robby groaned at the image. “How long do you think he would last? Maybe five minutes? It wouldn’t matter at that age. He could come on his hands that first time and our little show would get him all riled up again in no time.”

“Jesus, Jack.” His hand kept a steady pace. One he knew from experience could wring an intense orgasm out of you but took a while to build. They were silent for a little except for the lewd sounds of Jack stroking him and Robby’s little huffs. On a rougher stroke, Robby’s hand scrambled for purchase. It ended up on Jack’s shoulders. Like they often did with Whitaker.

“No touching.” Robby begrudgingly complied, knowing Jack could stop it all. “See, your boy would let you touch him, though. He’d never imagine telling you not to touch him. He’d let you pin him on the bed and push your fingers so deep into him he saw stars. I bet he’s vocal, too. I hear him singing under his breath sometimes, like he can’t help but be loud as fuck all the time. I bet you push him around and pretend you don’t hear him puff all the air he has out of his lungs. I see you two in the locker room, don’t forget.”

“Sorry,” Robby says in that guilty, strangled way. He wasn’t guilty enough to not feel his orgasm coming on strong, though.

“Don’t be sorry. I want to fuck him too. I want you to lure that kid into our bed, and I want you to get him on all fours. I want you to be fucking his ass while I’m fucking his mouth and I want him to be so fucked out he’s moaning around my cock loud enough for the neighbors to hear.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He was feeling urgent. He needed Jack to stop saying these things. He cannot come to these thoughts and legitimize them.

“He would shut the fuck up when you told him to. It may be hard because I bet he’s a screamer, but I’ve seen how eager the kid is to please you. He just wants you to tell him what to do so you can call him a good boy, huh?” He asks it like a question but knew there would be no answer. Robby was coming, quicker than he usually did, too aroused by the idea of Whitaker and his husband’s storytelling ability. He was taught and then he was boneless and panting on the couch.

“We’re going to hell for that.”

“No, you’re going to find a way to get with Whitaker first ‘cause that was hot as fuck.”

Robby made a noise that sounded like agreement. “Promise you’ll take it slow. Let’s see how receptive he seems before we go off the deep end.”

"You know me, I’m Mr. Subtle.” Yeah, Robby didn’t know about that. But he also didn’t know how fair it was to ask the man who kissed him first in an on-call room at their job to be subtle. “Now suck me off, will ya?” Not one to disappoint his husband, Robby dropped from the couch and onto his knees.

Dennis is given the next day off and it ends up being the end of his workweek anyway. He’s a real doctor, with sick leave and on-the-job injuries were a pretty respectable reason to stay home. Robby was slightly withholding on the first day he came back. It was sterile between them. Hospital antisceptic-flavored conversations. He didn’t touch him. Dennis is pathetic for noticing. More pathetic for feeling a little needy about it.

He found Robby at the end of the day when he was walking away from Abbot. “Uhhh, could we talk, sir?” Oops. He was nervous and he switched to being overly deferential. It was how he was raised; you called people above you sir and ma’am. It’s kinda fucked him up for life.

“Yeah, we should talk.” The attending cleared his throat.

They went off to a hallway nobody was in. There wasn’t a logical reason for this to be overly private. Except for the fact that both of them wanted it to be. They shuffled to the side and waited a second to talk. Dennis had to know, “Are you mad at me?” He sounded sadder than he meant to.

“I-No, Dennis. I’m not mad.” Robby stopped himself from telling him he was just disappointed. It was too on the nose. Dennis was looking up at him all cautious.“I just wish you demonstrated some understanding of your condition and the effects it has on your life.”

“It really doesn’t affect anything, though. I promise.”

“Did the doctors not explain this to you and your parents when you were diagnosed?” He sounded pleading. “How you can get infections you don’t know about? How you can cause serious damage by not catching injuries fast enough? You’re a doctor, you know how serious this can be.”

“I know! You act like I don’t know all that.” Whitaker snapped and made a dismissive face. He was getting mad at Robby feeling like he had any place to tell him how his condition affected his life. “Why do you even care? Isn’t it helpful to you? That I don’t feel hunger pains. That I can do CPR indefinitely. That sometimes I’m the only one that doesn’t need to sit down once in 12 hours?”

“None of that means anything to me. You being healthy matters to me.” The man grabbed both ends of his stethoscope to hang his hands on. Robby was breathing deep like he was trying to hold back. Or calm himself down. Dennis couldn’t tell.

Dennis froze after the confession. It wasn’t really one, but it felt revealing. Like Dennis meant something to him. God, Dennis wished he meant something to him. He simply couldn’t.

“They never cared about it.” The younger man crossed his arms.

“What?” Robby did that thing where he ducked down to keep eye contact. It was important to him to lock people's gaze.

Dennis couldn’t look him in the eye. He turned his head to the side to look at the wall. Acted like he was saying something casual. “You asked about my parents. They never cared about it. They told me it was a gift from God." His eyes flicked up to the ceiling, almost of instinct. "He gave me something that let me work harder. Do the more dangerous things. They didn’t worry about me getting hurt as much because they wouldn’t have to deal with the screaming.”

Robby’s deep breaths turned sort of shallow. He wanted to treat this kid so well. Show him unimaginable amounts of safety and love and pleasure. Let him know how good he was.

Robby couldn’t kiss him or grab his neck or tease apart something that felt so amazing the kid would cry. Not here. Not now. So he hugged him. It wasn’t even professional, but it was better than what he could’ve done. Wanted to do. The man was warm and Robby regretted that he would never be able to feel just how warm he was.

It was a type of hug Dennis hadn’t felt in years. A hand on the back of his head and an arm almost scooping him up. His arms were trapped but it was the nice kind of trapped. He put his forehead on his attending’s clavicle like that was something that was Ok to do. Whatever, he didn’t start it.

Robby felt this compulsive need to reassure. To make it all better. “You know that’s all bullshit, right? You’re not worth more when you’re hurting yourself.” Robby was one to talk, but he was getting better about that.

Dennis didn’t answer for a while, which felt like enough of one. Finally, he said, “It doesn’t hurt, though. It feels good.”

“Shit, kid.”

Their breathing synced, and probably their heart rates too. It’s what physiologically happens when you hug someone for a long time. You co-regulated.

They heard footsteps and they separated. Oh yeah, they were in a crowded hospital. Robby made eye contact with Jack, who probably went to find them. Dennis noticed him looking at something and turned around. He went another step away when he saw it was Dr. Abbot. He shouldn’t have hugged a married man like that. He shouldn’t have made a hug into something it wasn’t in his mind. He wondered how many hookups it would take before it felt like their hands were replacing his boss’s. How many bruises he couldn’t feel, from hands and mouths he didn’t care about.

Dennis felt the need to explain. That his wonderful husband was just being nice to a meaningless student. That he was a good man and the veteran had nothing to worry about, but over-explaining was more suspicious. He just said, “Thanks for the talk, Dr. Robby. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He did a stupid salute as he walked by Dr. Abbot, which the other man seemed to be amused by. As long as he wasn’t kicking his ass for his obvious crush, he figured he could get through it.

When Dennis had enough time to really get out of there, Jack asked what had happened. Robby promised him he would explain later. It was too complicated to get into here.

Trinity and Dennis drove home. They had shitty canned tomato soup and grilled cheese. Not a real vegetable in sight. They ate it on the couch, which was a bad idea because Dennis was a messy eater.

“What was up with Dr. Robby and you today? He hardly looked at you.” Dennis had a terrible poker face and he knew he couldn’t hide a single conversation from his best friend. “It’s especially weird because he kept asking about you, so I thought he would be happy you were back.” She blew on her spoonful to cool it down.

Dennis practically preened at the idea of Robby asking after him. Trinity picked up on it and chose not to say anything. Yet.

“He’s just frustrated with my whole pain thing. I think he’s worried I’m going to drop dead in his ER from something I didn’t notice.” He tried to explain away.

“Awww, is your Daddy concerned?” She fake-pouted like she was talking to a kid. “Where’s his hoodie by the way, under your pillow?” Dennis just glared as he dipped his grilled cheese.

“It’s in the hamper and it’s being returned after the next laundry day.” It wasn’t in the hamper yet, but it will be. He couldn’t even touch the Daddy thing. Not after everything Trinity’s seen…and heard.

She dropped it and got reabsorbed back into Love Island. Thank God for trashy television. It soothed her like nothing else.

They woke up bright and early and got to work on time. In the locker room, Dennis’s spot had a box in front of it. Shoes. They were the nice ones that all the doctors seemed to wear now. Size eight. The post-it on top of the box just said ‘Dennis.’ No signature, so he had no way to return them. Maybe it was Layla? Maybe she felt so awful she bought him new shoes. Dennis held no grudge against her. If she had to learn that lesson, he was just glad it was with him.

He tried on the shoes and they felt bouncy. He hadn’t let himself get new ones in a while. His old ones were machine washable and he would just throw them in if they got dirty. The crocs he kept in his locker were going to make do until he could get to the Sketchers store. He made a salary now but wanted the loans off his back as soon as possible. He also sent money back home a lot. They had two fewer helping hands.

Abbot came in to grab his stuff. Robby must’ve been in early. Or he was just anxious to get home. The man was hard to read.

They didn’t usually talk without Robby there. Jack stuck to the night crew. He wasn’t chatty unless he’d spent countless hours wrist deep in guts with you. But he talked to Dennis this morning for some reason.

“Heard you can’t feel pain.” His locker was only a couple down from Dennis’s. Next to Robby’s. Dennis knew he shouldn’t have memorized where Robby’s was.

Dennis gulped a little for no reason. “Uh, yeah, I have a, like, mutation or whatever.” Eloquent.

Abbot let out a short chuckle, “It’s a shame, really.” He closed his locker and leaned on it to look at the younger man.

“Why?” The younger man furrowed his brows, confused.

“‘Cause it’s the best part.” He reached out and shook the boy's shoulder like they were buddies or something, then slipped behind to get to the door.  “See ya.” He turned around, did the same two-hand salute Dennis had done the day before, then walked out. What the fuck?

Dennis was a good doctor. He banished all of those thoughts from his head for twelve whole hours. Besides, it was hard to think about gay shit when Layla was following him around now, fetching him water bottles from the vending machine and rushing to get whatever supplies he needed. He preferred her when she was crying and being sent away, which was terrible, and he would never let her know that.

Dana teased him about his new shadow and Dennis didn’t have the heart to defend her. She was annoying and out of her depth, even if she was kind. It would be a long five weeks.

Dennis finished up his shift and his feet felt…good. Like there was still life left in his legs. He didn’t realize his other shoes were so worn down.

Robby got a kick out of seeing Dennis in the shoes he’d bought him. He had Jack write his name because he was sure the kid could recognize his handwriting by now. The perks of being married while courting.

Dennis and him were normal again. Which was surprising after the transparent shit Jack pulled in the locker room (he texted Robby that he may not have been subtle). They touched too much. Stood too close. Talked too quietly for an excuse to share air. Neither would admit to it, but they did. Their normal was fucked up. It felt unnatural when they acted like coworkers should.

Dennis had a new hanger-on that was cramping Robby’s style, though. That Layla girl was always searching him out. She couldn’t work independently for the life of her. Robby would move things around and hand her over to McKay. Dennis didn’t need to be distracted so much in his intern year. It wasn’t healthy.

A couple of days of normal changes when Robby started to enforce breaks. Only for Dennis. Every four hours, he would tell him to go drink some water and sit down for five minutes. He did it as subtly as he could, but it felt insulting in the way that made Dennis shiver. Like someone finally noticed how inadequately prepared he was for life alone.

Dennis let him. Because he lets Robby do everything.

Abbot came back thirty minutes after his shift one morning. Dennis was nervous he’d somehow catastrophically hurt himself and walked to the ER. Then he noticed the compostable carrier with three coffees.

Robby saw him and raised his eyebrows slightly. Did he absorb his stupid crush through osmosis? Did Dennis make people trip over themselves to take care of him through proximity?

When they met in the middle, Robby asked, “Three coffees?”

“You’re lucky I bring you any at all.” He dug in his bag, brought out a paper sack of pastries, and handed them to Robby.

He checked the bag his husband handed him, “Danishes? You’re going to share your danishes?”

“I don’t want to hear anything from the man that spent all last night sending me links to things he thought his resident would ‘look cute in.’”

Robby shut his eyes tightly. They were getting ahead of themselves in a massive way. But Dennis wasn’t rejecting Robby’s new impositions, and he and Jack were now talking at shift changes.

Robby grabbed Dennis when he was walking by. The kid had great timing. “Hey Buddy, I got a present for ya.”

“I got it, but what’s mine is yours or whatever.” Robby ignored Jack and maneuvered Dennis to stand slightly in front of him. He left his hand not holding the bag on his shoulders, almost keeping him pinned between them. Jack continued, “They gave me an extra. Here.” Jack pushed out the drink carrier towards Dennis. Iced coffee. It looked milky, the way the younger man liked.

“Did they mess it up or something? You both only drink hot coffee with sugar.” He sounded confused.

Jack smirked a little. “Are you stalking us or just detail-oriented?”

Dennis wasn’t going to admit his fascination with them both. “Uhh, thank you for the coffee, sir.” He wiggled it out of the drink carrier and went to leave, but Robby’s one hand tightened and pulled him back into place. Oh God. He brought his other arm around to Dennis' front and pushed a paper bag into his chest slightly.

“Go eat one of these, enjoy your coffee. I won’t make you go on your break later if you do it now.”

Dennis was shaking his head, “But, I’m waiting for lab results and-“

“I’ll let you do the next chest tube that comes in.” He released his grip on his shoulder.

Jack got to see his face light up at the prospect. He looked a little fonder than he should, but the joy of chest tubes was something he’d forgotten about. They were just routine now for him but it was nice to be reminded of a time when he was excited to do them. “Ok, Dr. Robby!” He speed walked off, not wanting to get chastised for running again.

The fond look faded when Jack noticed he had run off with all the pastries. “You had to give him the whole bag? I didn’t get my fucking danish out yet!”

It all came to a head when Dennis tapped in for CPR. The EMT was waning during the disembarkation from the ambulance and Dennis took over. He jumped on the gurney and just kept going after she was transferred. She was a young girl who had a sudden cardiac arrest. Dennis wasn’t going to quit on her.

He’d only stopped for a few seconds at a time for them to shock her, but he got right back in it after. Twenty-five minutes of no pulse plus four rounds of epi, and people were ready to call it. Dennis didn’t notice the amount of time that had passed. Rhythmic movements like this droned his mind.

Robby was ready for it to be done. He’d never seen someone do continuous CPR at this level of force for this long. Mel had offered to tap in, but Dennis didn’t acknowledge her.

“Ok, it’s done,” Robby said to the room. Dennis hadn’t stopped. He got closer to Dennis's side. “Hey! I’m calling it. Stop.” He just kept going. Robby was getting worried. He yelled a little louder. “Dennis, I said it’s done!” When he didn’t immediately listen, Robby yanked him by the waist off the table back into his chest. The man was little enough to throw around. The room stilled until a nurse practitioner called the time of death.

He was panting and just now realizing the exhaustion he’d put himself into. His core felt unsteady. It made him lean back into Robby. He could do this sometimes. Go into a lull in his head while his body wrecked itself. He never knew it was happening until he felt his muscles fail. Robby half walked/half pushed him into the break room down the hall and deposited him into a chair.

Through gritted teeth, the attending said, “New rule, three minutes of compressions and then someone tags in. Got it.”

He replied sheepishly, “Yeah, I got it.” Dennis was looking up through his lashes and huffing in and out. They just looked at each other.

Until Layla walked in, “I saw what happened, here.” She extended a bottle of water. Dennis took it. His mouth felt dry. Robby turned on his heel and left. He was going to order that kid a new trendy water bottle tonight.

When Dennis felt steadier, he went back on the floor. Dana kept giving him minor cases and loaded looks, but he didn’t say anything. He felt like people were watching him, but he’d get over it. So would they. As they were finalizing charts, Trinity gave him that look that was sympathetic but also an ‘I told you so.’ “I don’t care what happened today, you’re not flaking on girls' night.”

A rare occasion where Mel, Samira, Victoria, Trinity, and Dennis were all off had to be taken advantage of. Tomorrow night was mandatory. Also, Dennis knew the bouncer at the club they liked to go to and he got them in quickly.

“How could I miss a night out at Blue Moon?”

“You can’t. That’s what I’m saying.”

They didn’t notice Abbot walking by, listening to their plans.

The girls (and Dennis) pregamed at Trinity’s apartment. It was stumbling distance to the bar, so they wouldn’t have to Uber and they could just crash in the living room at the end of the night.

Dennis didn’t feel hungover in the classical sense. His head didn't hurt, his eyes weren’t sensitive, his muscles weren’t sore. He just felt fatigued. The girls, on the other hand, were screwed. They all groaned when he shut his door a little too loudly and groaned again when he accidentally knocked the pan into the edge of the counter. At least they were getting eggs and toast out of it.

Dennis knew logically he should take the same rest. Just because he doesn’t feel the worst of the alcohol (and dehydration and overexertion) doesn’t mean his body needed less recovery. But he had friends. For the first time in his life, he had real friends who weren’t related to him, and he was going to do anything he could to keep them liking him.

They were thankful for the food. Dennis always used too much butter but the outcome was pretty good.

Mel and Samira eventually went home to shower and throw up in peace. Dennis realized that he had never charged his phone before going to bed the night before. He didn’t want to think about why he was so urgent to plug it in when everyone who would’ve texted him just left. He was disappointed when the only notifications were from apps.

Today was laundry day, they’d decided. Dennis took the hoodie he’d been sleeping with and put it in the bottom of his hamper underneath everything. They had to walk it all down to the creepy basement, but they were lucky to not have to haul their shit to the laundromat.

Trinity was switching the first load over to the dryer when she asked, “So where did you really go last night?”

“I just needed a breather.”

She looked back with a knowing glance. “No, you looked all red and your hair was messed up.”

He sighed, “Fine, I kissed a guy in the corner for a while, but nothing happened.”

“That’s not like you. You’re, like, surprisingly good at locking shit down.”

He couldn’t lie to her. He also desperately wanted to freak out about it with someone. “I ran into Dr. Abbot and Dr. Robby.”

Her jaw dropped. “At Blue Moon? I didn’t know they knew about that place.”

“I don’t know, they’ve been gay a while.” He shrugged and pushed himself up to sit on top of a dryer that wasn’t being used.

“What happened? Were they, like, grinding on the dance floor or something?” Dennis didn’t respond to the joke. “Why are you so not forthcoming? You usually sing like a canary under the slightest questioning.”

“Hey! I’m capable of keeping secrets.”

“Something happened that’s worth keeping secret?” She was shoving the second batch of clothes into the top-loaded washer. When she was done, she turned around and looked at him. She was so right. Dennis couldn’t handle scrutiny.

He looked up and the eye contact reminded him so much of his mom. Dennis had a habit of always succumbing to that type of guilt. “Ok, but you can’t tell anyone.”

She faced the washer again and poured too much Tide in. She said it made things cleaner, and Dennis wasn’t going to tell her it didn’t. Not when she folded his shirts for him. “Oh my God, you’re acting like you fucked our attendings or something.” The silence stretched on. It might be easier to explain if he’d had a drunken threesome with his superiors. She faced him again. “Dude, did you fuck our attendings? How could you fuck two old men in the thirty minutes you were M.I.A.?” She sounded so incredulous.

Dennis held his hands out, as if he could stop her thoughts tumbling. “No, no, no! We did not have sex.”

“People only say it that way when they almost had sex.”

“We didn’t almost have sex! But I think they might’ve…propositioned me or something. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, and it all gets jumbled up in the middle.”

“Did they do the whole, ‘We saw you from across the bar and really liked your vibe,’ thing?” She did her Robby voice, which was completely inaccurate. Dennis groaned and hit his head against an overhead cabinet. He should’ve never told anyone about this. Should’ve taken it to his grave, one that he might find early if his love life kept being insane like this.

“No! But they kinda, I don’t know, like, touched me and stuff. I think Robby pecked my neck. They told me they wanted to take me out today, but they haven’t even texted me, even though I know they both have my number and-“

Trinity had to interrupt, “You’re rambling!” She pushed the button and the unbalanced load thunked. A perk of renting was that they didn’t care. “Are you uncomfortable with their advances? You can say no, y’know.”

This is the part of Trinity that he loved. He actually loved all of her, but he couldn’t tell her that; she’d get a big head. She cared for him. Knew he needed to be reminded sometimes that he didn’t have to be at the mercy of others. Dennis thanked his lucky stars she was the one who found him up there on the abandoned wing. Anybody else could’ve taken advantage, Dennis probably would’ve let them. Not Trin. Never her.

“Is it terrible that I don’t want to say no?” He asked.

“This sucks. You’re gonna fuck two married attendings before I’ve even cracked Garcia.”

“Didn’t you stab her foot? That would take a while to get over.”

Santos hated being reminded of that. “Your little girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so.” Dennis threw a box of dryer sheets at her for that one. They went upstairs when the load in the dryer was done. Trinity was folding laundry when Dennis got the text.

He flapped his hand a little. “They wanna meet for brunch! What do I do?”

“Brunch? It’s almost one. That’s just breakfast for lunch.” She snarked while folding a comically small top of hers.

He put his phone facedown on the coffee table. “So not the point, Trin!” He started rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“I don’t know, say something breezy.”

Dennis scoffed, he was terminally un-breezy. “What, like ‘Oh, that whole thing totally slipped my mind! Maybe we can talk about the non-ethical non-monogamy my bosses proposed to me last night in a gay club over pancakes or waffles! Which do you prefer?’”

“I think it’s technically ethical if they both know about it!” She said it like it was a good point.

“Ugh, I’ll just wait a couple of minutes so I don’t seem over-eager and then ask where they want to go.” Dennis didn’t make it to the three-minute mark before replying. Just a simple ‘sure! where?’ The older men obviously had never seen the Gen Z rulebook for nonchalant telecommunications and replied immediately. “They wanna make it at their house!” Dennis started smoothing down that gay little mullet Trinity convinced him to keep.

“What did you do to them last night?” She asked like Dennis could’ve ever intentionally done something to deserve this.

“Literally nothing! I think I just stuttered and looked at them. There is no reason for this to be happening.”

Trinity did that mean cackle she did, “Ok, Bella Swan. Go change into something a little less comfortable. This t-shirt looks good on you, and those kinda work pants we thrifted look cool.” She tossed him a shirt from the pile that was a little shorter than his other ones. “Also steal something useful while you’re there. We could use more toilet paper.”

Dennis took the bus. Trinity offered to drive him, but he was careful not to inconvenience her too much. His name still wasn’t officially on the lease and even though he was ninety-nine percent sure they were best friends, he didn’t want her to get tired of him.

He was sure it was cold, so he wore Robby’s hoodie. He would take it off before he knocked. Pretend the gesture didn’t mean something. Even if they were attracted to him, it didn’t mean they liked Dennis the way he liked them. They probably wanted to spice things up once. He would, of course, go along with whatever, but he thought of washing dishes and discovering playlists as much as he dreamt of fucking and sucking. God help him, he wished it were just an attraction.

On their front steps, he shrugged off the hoodie and hoped it still smelled freshly washed. His hand got stuck in it for a second, which made him feel like a kid. They had one of those camera doorbells, too, so he had no hope. The door opened before he could knock.

It was Dr. Abbot. In sweatpants and a loose long-sleeved shirt. Dennis tried to ignore it. “Hey, Sweetheart. Glad you came.” He leaned a little on the doorway before stepping aside when it became obvious Dennis wasn’t going to say anything. What do you say to that?

He walked through a foyer with a shoe rack and a bowl for mail and keys. Systems in place for years. Dennis kicked off his beat-up Chucks and put them beside the rack when Abbot just gestured. There was no space for guests and Dennis tried not to construe it into a metaphor.

The place had a lot of green and blue and brown. It was curated and lived in. When they got through the entryway, the kitchen and living room appeared. There was a god damn island like on HGTV.

Robby was making sausage patties and waffles. Not even from a mix if the flour container and baking soda were anything to go by. Dennis was out of his depth.

Robby turned around and he was wearing an apron. Shoot him or something. At least sedate. “Hi, Dr. Robby.” His voice was timid. Like he was prepared to get scolded for trespassing in this home he obviously had no reason to be in.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be shy.” The older man tilted his head and crossed his arms. “You can call me Michael, and you can call him Jack. We’re not your bosses here.”

Jack went around the island and sidled up beside Robby, looking confident as ever. “At least until you agree that we’re your bosses here in a completely different way.”

“Jesus, Jack, let him eat his brunch before we do all of this.”

“Like you making him eat sausage isn’t one big Freudian slip.” Jack laughed at his own joke.

It made Dennis relax, counterintuitively. They were being normal about this. As normal as anyone could be. He wondered how many times they had been in this situation. How special this attention really was.

Dennis went over and sat at one of the barstools, his socked feet curling against the rests. He put the borrowed jacket next to him. He met the men’s gazes and then looked down at his hands on the marble counter, then back up again. “Uh, what exactly is this?”

Robby moved away from his husband to get another waffle out of the maker and added it to the stack while he talked. “I don’t think we’ve been very subtle.” It must’ve been the last of the batter because he didn’t add any more. Jack took the sausages out of the pan. They had designated jobs. Dennis just sat there and watched. “We’re both attracted to you, Dennis. Can we assume that you coming over here means you feel that way about us, too?”

Dennis looked at his hands again. Couldn’t help but notice all the scar tissue from barbed wire and putting up fences. It was all too domestic. Practiced. Dennis was feral compared to them. He wished that it made a difference. “One could assume that, yes.”

They brought the food over to the smallish, already set table, and Dennis swiveled around to keep an eye on them.

Jack sat down first and then pointed to the chair opposite of him. Dennis was realizing how much of Jack was nonverbal communication. Foxhole gestures. It made him not talking much at the hospital make more sense.

Dennis obeyed the unspoken command, which seemed to please Jack. He was starting to get an idea about what these two men were after.

Robby was fluttering around still. He looked a little nervous. “Do you like real maple syrup? Or fake? We have both.”

“Fake’s fine. I never developed a taste for the real stuff.” Robby put both kinds in the microwave for a couple of seconds, hung his apron on the hook by the on the otherside of the kitchen, then came and sat down with the little pitchers, finally. Jack loaded up all of their plates. He even spread Dennis’s butter for him and poured his syrup. The younger man tried to feel patronized, but all he felt was taken care of.

Jack lifted himself a little to slide it over, but his arms were long enough not to struggle with it.

Dennis took a bite of the waffle just to have something to do. “Oh, wow. Good waffle.”

Robby was watching his reaction. “Thanks.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Ok, I’ll say it since you two would rather talk about breakfast. We invited you here to talk about us taking care of you a little.”

“What? Like a sugar baby situation? Uhhh…” He wasn’t exactly homeless anymore, but he also had next to no disposable income.

Robby grabbed his husband’s arm on the table, willing him not to scare Dennis away. “What my very blunt partner means is that we both have some…desire for control that isn’t necessarily compatible with the relationship we have now. And well-“

“We’d like to control you a little if you’re down for it.” Jack pointed his fork at Dennis while he said it. Robby groaned a little and held his forehead. “Whatever, you’re confusing him.”

“Ohhh.” He nodded while he finished chewing. Dennis understood now. “That actually makes so much sense. Sure!”

Robby looked a little disbelieving at his quick agreement. “Sure? Do you not have any questions about how this all works?”

Dennis was more confident now that he wasn’t as confused. This was more in his wheelhouse than the messy emotions he was feeling when everything was up in the air. This was just sex. And Dennis was good at just sex.

“I mean, I have questions, but this isn’t that crazy, honestly.”

Jack chuckled a little while cutting off a piece of waffle. “Old men are just lining up to dom you, Sweetheart?” He said it like it was a joke and it made Dennis bristle a little. Why does everyone assume he gets no play? Is it the adult blonde male thing?

“Kinda, yeah.” Dennis took another bite of the food Robby made and it soothed something in him.

Jack laughed a little, not expecting this from him. He was a timid at the hospital. He didn’t seem comfortable enough to joke around. Maybe this whole thing wouldn’t send him screaming down the hall. “Well, I’m glad you’re at least having some fun.”

Robby was overthinking, over caring. “Just so you know, you’re well within your rights to not do this. It wouldn’t make either of us treat you any differently.” That was a little bit of a lie. They’d have to stop bringing him coffee and whispering to him, but they could do it.

Dennis got serious again. “I know. You guys would never take advantage of me.” Robby felt like even asking was doing exactly that but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Dennis believed in their intrinsic goodness and who was he to fuck with that? “What would doing this look like? Just a one-time thing?”

Jack buckled down, too. He needed to be clear about his expectations. “No, sweetheart. It would happen frequently if left up to us.”

Robby started looking bashful. “We can work around your schedule, but we’ve been noticing that we’ve been wanting to do some things in the bedroom that the other isn’t necessarily open to all the time.”

“We’re both pretty domineering and outside of a couple of times a year, we’re not really interested in letting the other indulge it.” The man shouldn't look so attractive talking out of one side of his mouth because he was still chewing, but Dennis was borderline infatuated with him, so he wasn't even bothered. He was so fucked.

And…wow. Dennis, don’t think about the specifics of that. Don’t think about how Jack is probably a bratty submissive and how Robby probably asks for it on his birthday. Or how Jack breaks Robby down twice a year when he’s feeling vulnerable. Don’t think about it.

“Uhhh, yeah, I could pencil that in.” Don’t sound so eager, idiot.

Robby let out a surprised, “Really?” Like he was fully expecting Dennis to turn down going to Paris with his DILF bosses. Maybe Dennis could reciprocate by helping his self-esteem!

Dennis tried to school how much yearning he felt for these men before he said, “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about you two for a while, if I’m honest. You’re not putting this idea in my head or anything.”

The two men weren’t expecting that confession. They thought this would be surprising. A novel idea that may take a little coaxing. The fact that Dennis independently wanted it was an almost righteous feeling.

Thinking about them. Robby passed the language over in his head. It was purposefully ambiguous. It could mean physically or sexually. It could mean he felt the odd compatibility Robby had noticed the very first day they met. It was juvenile to call it a crush. Almost demeaning to the feelings Robby felt as well. He had been beating the thoughts away about the depth of his attachment, but this had all broken that down. Could he keep Dennis the way he got to keep Jack? Would both of them be open to that idea if he orchestrated this right?

Jack noticed Robby thinking too hard and took over. “I’m glad you’re in agreement because Robby’s been trying too damn hard to take care of me recently.” He pointed at his husband with his fork. It must be a habit of his. “I don’t let him buy me shit unless it’s a holiday and he gets all pouty about it.”

Dennis frowned a little. “I thought this wasn’t a sugar baby thing?”

Robby, not wanting to offend, said, “It's not! But my type of feelings are more about taking care of you and, like, you listening and letting me treat you well.”

“And I guess I’m an asshole or something because I hate when he does that shit all the time,” Jack added.

The younger man was sensitive to what he perceived as self-deprecating comments. Dennis didn’t want to come between them. Their relationship was so much more important than whatever passing fancy this was. “No, I think that makes sense. You’ve taken care of yourself for a while, so it would feel weird to have him try to do that.”

Robby saw an opening. “Which leads me to another thing I wanted to bring up. You don’t take care of yourself right, and that ends now.” This tone wasn’t new but the intentions were now clear. Robby had been talking to him like this for some time now. It recontextualized things in Dennis's mind. Maybe he wasn’t a crazy sex pest misconstruing innocent concern.

Dennis felt adrift suddenly. Calm but also untethered. “What-What do you want me to do?” Please just tell me what to do. I don’t know how to figure it out myself, and no one ever bothered to tell me, he thought.

Jack's pupils got big when he sensed the shift. He’d never been one to submit without a fight, without some sort of force. He’d done enough of just following orders for a lifetime. Thinking for himself was a freedom he didn’t get well into his adult life.

Robby shifted a little before steepling his hands. His presence was filling up the room now that it had full permission to. “You’re going to start eating during your shifts-”

“I do!”

“-Non-processed shit you that you can’t buy at the Dollar Tree. I got a water bottle for you, and you’ll be drinking out of that. If the temperature is below 50, you’ll wear a jacket, below 30, and you’ll wear a scarf and gloves.”

“That’s too much!” Dennis didn’t think this arrangement meant changing his everyday habits. This wasn’t just sex or drawn-out foreplay. He wasn’t going to turn it down for anything, though. They all knew that, and it was the one time they were going to take advantage of their position over him. It was for his own good anyway.

Robby had a mean little laugh, “Well, you’re going to hate how many more rules I have, then.” He checked in with Dennis’s expression. It was a self-effacing trepidation, not genuine anger or discomfort. The young man was just used to putting off his needs and automatically felt the need to reject care. Some rules would help him not do that as much. Along with punishments and rewards, of course. “You’re going to take your temperature every morning since you won’t notice if anything’s wrong. You will text it to me.” Dennis found himself nodding despite himself. He wanted to listen to Robby. Be good for him. “You’re going to let us get you some fun stuff. When was the last time you bought something you didn’t need?”

Probably undergrad when his parents still sent Christmas money and he was on scholarship with a meal plan, but that sounded too sad. “Uhhh-I got a hair cream thing a couple months ago.” It was Trinity’s and she didn’t like it, but it was new-to-him. He was sure they wouldn’t like that.

Jack huffed a little, understanding why his husband wanted to be in charge of him so badly. He was doing a shit job at enjoying life and he was too sweet to not be drowning in nice things. “That’s a necessity, babe. Grooming products are necessary.”

Dennis didn’t have much to say to that. How do you explain to two men who had been attendings for 15 years that, until semi-recently, food was a luxury? That until he was a resident, he ate and cooked whatever Trinity liked. That he got clothes and furniture for free on Facebook Marketplace and didn't have the indulgence of taste. That his parents deserved anything that didn’t go to rent and utilities, or loans. He couldn’t let them know the exact mechanisms of the perceived neglect. He couldn't imagine them still wanting to touch him, knowing the things he’d done to get to this point.

Robby’s face turned kinder at the bewildered look on Dennis’s. They had their work cut out for them. He didn’t realize it was this bad. He was salaried now and still living like a broke student. They’d have to figure out why. “It’s ok, you’re ok. We’re going to make it all better now, so don’t worry about any of it.”

“Ok.” Dennis couldn’t talk anymore. His head was empty. He didn’t know how he would take the bus after this.

Jack was looking curiously, gauging the level of submission. He fell easily and agreeably. “That’s enough for today, doll. We’ll send over some questions and an outline of the rules and boundaries, and you can look it over and tell us some more.”

“Ok.” Was that the only word he knew? It sure felt like it.

Robby was back to his natural state of bashfulness when he asked, “What’s your personal email. I don’t think Gloria wants this living on the PTMC servers.”

That made sense. Dennis gave them the information, and thank god he didn’t have to actually think about it. He felt like he got fucked face down and he didn’t even get touched. He basically just got sternly encouraged to get his shit a little more together.

Jack nodded his head towards Dennis’s phone on the kitchen island. “Go ahead and text Santos that she should start driving over.”

“Oh, she didn’t drive me. I took the bus. It should be coming around in a little while.”

“Bring me your phone then.”

This shocked Dennis. “No! Don’t bother her, please.”

Jack narrowed his eyes a little. “I’ll respect that.” Dennis nodded again. “Bring me your phone. I’m putting my card down for your Ubers.” Dennis gulped a little. This was too much. He couldn’t say no, though.

He brought the phone over and unlocked it. Jack shot him a fake exasperated look at his wallpaper being Santos and him in front of fireworks on the Sixth Street Bridge. He went to the app and removed all the previous credit card information and added his own while Robby watched in glee. He got to watch his husband take care of Dennis and his favorite boy wasn’t going to take the bus as often!

Jack set it up so he got the tracking information and notifications of drop-offs and pick-ups. A touch controlling, but it would satisfy his need for protection. It was already bad and he had cart blanche to get worse. Dennis didn’t want to tell them that Trinity already had his location and probably memorized their address by now.  Robby had already made a veiled hint at codependent relationships when they were texting each other from the opposite sides of the hospital one time and he didn’t really want to have the talk again.

They both walked him to the door when the Uber came. He struggled to get his shoes on and not fall over, so Robby held his arm. There was a bench but neither of the men would ruin the excuse to touch him more. They watched him get in the back with his new water bottle and Jack called out, “Let us know when you’re home!”

Dennis was usually more polite with drivers, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk much beyond a greeting. He was trying to grasp what had just happened. Was he in, like, a BDSM relationship with his bosses? That didn’t sound plausible.

He walked in and Trinity was on the couch calling her mom. She sat up and found an excuse to end the conversation quickly when she realized Dennis looked like he had come back from ‘Nam. As soon as her finger hit the button, she asked, “What the hell happened?”

Dennis replied, “I really don’t know. I think they’re sending me some sort of sex contract.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like they want me to fill out this form or something.” He put his new water bottle on the coffee table and Trinity somehow knew it was part of it.

“You really are Bella Swan, fumbling your way around into scenarios. You were made in a lab for this or something.”

Dennis went to his room to change back into comfy clothes when he got the email notification. He guessed now was as good a time as any.

It felt uncomfortable to write down his kinks and boundaries in a Word document. Anytime Dennis had done anything like this, it was a hand on his throat in the heat of the moment. Someone demanding to be called something when he was already out of his mind. A slap he couldn’t even feel. It was never pre-planned, always a surprise. He came to the conclusion it was never given the thought it probably should’ve been. He was never thought of much at all.

He wasn’t brazenly honest. He didn’t talk about the names he liked or even much of what he preferred. He said a couple of things he would never do, a few things he’d always dreamed of, and the rest was fine. He could sit through whatever they wanted. He wanted them to get out of this what they needed.

When he woke up that next day, it was to a text in the group chat between them three that just said, ‘Temp?’ He realized they were serious about everything. They were going to demand that he wear gloves and they were going to cluck over him like mother hens. He was annoyed already. And turned on. He was so messed up, he should be a PSA on why neglecting your children was bad.

There was a thermometer in the medicine cabinet that he dug out. He just texted back, ‘98.2.’ Not about to get cutesy over this particular rule.

Work was mostly the same when it shouldn’t have been. Surely, there should be some difference between today and every other day when he just entered into a 24/7 Dom/Sub dynamic with his bosses. But they compartmentalized when actively helping patients, and the Robby-imposed breaks and hovering were not much different at all. How could he not have put that all together? Maybe Trinity was right about the homeschooled thing. Or the low self-esteem. They probably went hand in hand.

The only difference was Robby picking up his water bottle occasionally to check if there was less in it than last time. And that was only because the water bottle was a new addition. Also, Layla being assigned to triage all day. A blessed release from the weight of her admiration.

Jack came in and Dennis understood why Robby sometimes melted into him. When you knew him a little better, his easy command over chaos was an absolute release when everything was in the shitter. Dennis had full trust that he could summarize his cases for rounds and GTFO.

Robby grabbed his shoulder before he turned down the hallway to go to the lobby that took them to the garage. He eyed Trinity, who was walking beside him. “Whitaker, can I talk to you before you go. Real quick.”

Trinity looked between them and surmised it must be a part of their new sex thing, and she wanted no part in it. “I’ll go warm the car up, Huckleberry.” She speed walked away.

Robby steered him to the side and looked around, making sure no one could overhear him. “Where’s your coat?” Shit, Dennis actually had to wear a coat now. Robby could tell by the look on his face that it wasn’t an intentional disobedience, just a force of habit. The younger man was obviously unsettled at the idea of already disappointing him. “It’s one of the rules, babe.”

“I know! I didn’t mean to. I don’t even have a winter coat like that, so I’ll start borrowing Trinity’s old one tomorrow.” Robby narrowed his eyes and Dennis interpreted that as him not believing in his compliance. The thought made him trip over himself to whine out, “I promise, sir, I swear.” Dennis always surprised himself with the depths of the ways he could humiliate himself at work.

And fuck Robby sideways. Sir? At work? Said like that? He’d need to be careful if Dennis was this susceptible to that energy.

“I believe you.” He reassured. “But you’re not going to borrow someone else’s coat. We’re going to go to the mall on Wednesday night when Jack has off, and we’re going to buy you whatever coat you like. Yeah?”

“But Trinity has one I can use.”

Robby didn’t want to explain the sick satisfaction he would get out of seeing him wrapped in something he bought. “And I have money that can buy you one that you’ll look so cute in. Any color you want. Hmm?”

Dennis sank into it. The compliment, the ownership, the hand massaging his shoulder still, the small vocalization at the end that was almost a moan. He wasn’t man enough not to crumble.

Dennis grabbed a handful of the front of Michael’s scrub shirt, bracing himself like he was about to fall over. He probably would. He could swoon right now like a Regency Era socialite. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want.”

That lofty voice was all Robby wanted to hear. The intern was pent up and easily riled. Hopefully, his tolerance for this would increase, or else work was going to have a whole other layer to it. His patient satisfaction scores would suffer if he was playing like this on the job every day.

Robby grabbed the hand clutching him and removed his scrubs from it. They were wrinkled on his stomach, now. Dennis shook his head like a cartoon, trying to rise out of the headspace this man put him in. He was really horny and these men weren’t helping. Trinity and her super hearing always being around wasn’t either. He was also tired and used all of his executive function on other people today, so he was willing to do just about anything Michael told him to do.

“Good job today, Den. Now go home and eat a good dinner for me, yeah.”

He blinked hard, swearing away fuzziness. “Yeah. Wednesday?”

“Yep! Maybe you can come over after if you’re not too tired.”

Dennis would find whatever reserve of energy he had in his body if it meant actually getting to bone these guys. The mental stimulation of all of this was making him feel insane and a little like he was going through a second puberty. “Please?” What happened to not obviously yearning for them, Dennis? Thank god Robby seemed entertained.

“Uh-huh. Leave before I decide to take you with me and make Abbot very jealous.”

Dennis mulled over this new coat idea for the next two days. He’d never had a new coat. He was the youngest of four brothers; of course he’d never been the first person to own a coat. He didn’t even get cold anyway, so what if the zipper was broken or there were holes in the pockets?

He’d settled on looking for a black one. His mother said black made them look sullen or like they were going to a funeral, so she never bought it. It didn’t represent the family well. He’d always liked the utility of the color. It went with everything.

The two husbands loosened up around him, not wanting to push him too far at work. Jack dipped a finger underneath his waistband on Tuesday morning, only to adjust the elastic, and he jumped off the ground like he’d been electrocuted, so they put a moratorium on teasing for the moment. He’d level out and get used to it once they were able to get their hands on him consistently.

Dennis told Trinity on Wednesday morning that they were going to find him a coat after work, and she was secretly thankful. Her older bosses controlling her sweet roommate triggered the deep protective instincts she’d developed for her friends, but they seemed to be thoughtful, at the very least. Dennis was having healthier habits in the last couple of days than she’d seen from him in almost a year, and for that, maybe she could let it all slide.

She did a rolling stop for the sign at the end of their street and asked, “Do they have a mall rat kink or something? It would be very timely for them, you know.” Even if she could come to a stalemate, she’d never give up the old jokes.

“I didn’t ask, actually.”

So Robby drove them to the mall. He’d just taken Dennis from work at the end of their shift and dropped by to pick up Jack. Dennis felt off being in the front seat and making the older man get in the back. He should be sitting next to his husband in the car he helped make the payment for.

They chose a suburban mall a little bit away, not just for the increased selection of stores but also for the decreased likelihood of running into anyone they knew.

Dennis didn’t go to these, like ever. The closest one growing up was nearly two hours away, and it wasn’t like they could afford name-brand clothes for them. Anytime his mother needed something from a department store, she didn’t want to load up all her boys in the van; she’d take her husband, and they’d get to have a date. Then he was a student and didn’t have a car or the desire. Then he was homeless and couldn’t have bought something if he wanted to. Trinity didn’t like them, the noise bouncing off the tile and the rowdy teenage boys pissed her off. She did online or thrift shopping, mostly, and she picked out all his clothes anyway.

He was squirming in his seat when they pulled into a crowded parking lot. The men thought it was arousal, maybe discomfort at the idea of being in public with them. They didn’t know it was anxiety about the setting.

They went to a fancy store first. The type with a piano in the middle and a garland already on the staircase, despite Thanksgiving being next week. A store where the coats were made out of wool, and they came with extra buttons. Dennis would look ridiculous in any of them.

He tried on a pea coat for austerity. Not wanting to seem ungrateful. “I feel like a douchebag in this.” He was frowning at himself in the big mirror. The two men made eye contact behind his back at how cute he was.

They walked through the first floor, and it was as disorienting as Trinity described. There were too many people, and everyone was too loud. It wasn’t like in the ER, where it was organized chaos, greater things to focus on, and order to the madness. It was just interrupted conversations, large groups taking up entire walkways, and children driving around on weird little animal things. He was half looking for any catastrophic injuries.

Jack felt much the same. His past made things like this hard. He spent a long time a world away, far from frivolous outings like this. It’s probably why he didn’t recognize the cagey look in Dennis’s eyes.

Robby saw it all. He steered the trio towards the wall so only one side was exposed and picked up his pace unnoticeably.

They walked to an outdoor outfitter that was the complete opposite of where they came from. The lower ceilings and fewer people made Dennis more comfortable.

He just wanted something plain and well-made. He’d already resigned himself to the idea that they were going to spend a couple hundred dollars on him for this, so the least he could do was get a coat that would last him long after they’d moved on.

“This one’s nice. You wanted black, right?” Jack distracted himself by focusing on the apparel.

Dennis looked it over. It was well insulated but not overly puffy. It had a hood, which was good because sometimes his ears would go numb and he wouldn’t notice. “Yeah, I’ll try it.”

Jack took it off the hanger for him and helped Dennis put it on. He was turned away from him while putting his arms through the sleeves. Jack took the time to wrap himself around the man, hook his chin over his clavicle, and start the zipper for him. Dennis breathed out a slow, shaky breath at the visual of the man’s deft fingers by his lower stomach. Could they leave already? This coat was fine, and he was getting hard.

Jack zipped it up to his sternum before pushing him to turn to face Michael, who was looking at them already. He had his hands in his pockets like he needed help keeping them to himself. He asked, “Comfy?”

Dennis moved his arms a little to make sure he had a full range of motion. It was perfect. “Yep. It’s exactly what I wanted.” He had never gotten exactly what he wanted before. It was always second-hand, a compromise, a reach for the stars, and coming back with empty space. Not anymore.

Robby and Jack felt zings at the words. He wanted this, didn’t need it. He could’ve used that coat from last season, but he would get better than that from them. He deserved it.

Jack brought one hand back around between his torso and arm and patted his belly, lower than he had to. “What’s your usual mall treat? We’ll get it before we head out.”

“What do you mean?”

Robby explained, “Like, do you usually get a pretzel, an orange Julius, there’s a candy store somewhere, I think.” He’d take Jake there when he was younger, but wouldn’t mention that.

Dennis buffered a little. What was the right answer? He figured it would be such an innocuous thing to lie about. There was really no point in pretending he had a whole routine. “I’ve actually never been to a mall before.”

The two husbands scowled at each other. Jack said from behind him, “What do you mean?” Robby stepped closer. Dennis always got quiet when asked questions like that, so he’d need to be closer. No other reason, he swore.

“I-um.” The proximity between them was making it hard to answer. “I’m from, like, the middle of nowhere. Don’t you remember?” Robby just tilted his head, meaning that wasn’t a sufficient explanation. “My brothers got their clothes from Academy and Bass Pro Shop, and I got my clothes from my brothers.”

“So your parents just kept you on the ranch all your childhood?” Jack questioned.

“No! I went to a public high school and stuff. They just…” What do you say? They were just fucking weird? Neglectful? Content to keep him away from the world and under their thumb? Robby was looking at him like he had just emerged from a bunker in a prairie dress. “I had a normal childhood.” He insisted. Everyone in his homeschool co-op in elementary school was like this, too. He was the abnormal one, going to a secular college for a postgraduate degree and only coming back once a year.

Jack shook his head behind Robby, telling him to drop it. The kid was getting spiky, and this was supposed to be easy and fun.

Robby listened. “Do you want to go to the food court?” His voice was soft and attentive. Dennis didn’t hate it.

“I kinda just want you to pay for this coat so we can leave.”

Jack grinned, “So demanding already?”

Dennis looked away like he was embarrassed, but the corners of his mouth were turning up. WHen they were up at the counter, it occured to Dennis that he never checked the tag for the price. Maybe them buying him things was kinda fun.

The drive home wasn’t very lively. Dennis raced to get to the car first so he could sit in the back. The couple was up front talking. They’d tried to include him, but there was only so much he could say when his heart was hammering in anticipation and anxiety. Dennis was still nervous they thought he was some isolated freak, but he knew he’d outgrown that. He was about to have a threesome, for God's sake. The other men were nervous about him liking what they’d planned for him. It was a fantasy, and those always had high expectations. They were more than aware that Dennis would do almost anything they asked, which filled them with equal amounts of trepidation and exhilaration.

Jack opened his car door for him like it was a rom-com, while Robby went ahead to unlock the front door. Dennis took off his shoes and put them beside the full rack after hanging up his new coat on one of the hooks. Jack grabbed his hand and brought him to their couch.

They were still holding hands when they sat, and Dennis didn’t know what he expected. It wasn’t this. Not soft, almost romantic. Normal.

Robby called from the kitchen, “Do you want the charcuterie before or after?” He didn’t need to specify the event he was referring to. They knew what they’d been waiting for. The younger man looks back at Jack, expecting him to answer, but the attending was already looking at him. It occurred to him that they were going to have this all be on his terms, even if they had full control. “Um, after please.”

Jack seemed pleased by that. He was rearing for it too. He’s been getting off on this idea alone and with his husband for weeks. He didn’t know if he could pretend to enjoy crackers and spread in a convincing way. “Good choice, sweetheart.” He parted the hair that was hanging on the boy's forehead and leaned in when he heard Robby get close enough.

And, yeah, it was all out of order. They’d talked about their deepest desires before they’d ever kissed. They’d teased him at his fucking job just to make him stutter. He’d gone into the compliant mode he really only went to after a bunch of foreplay the moment they had started ordering him around with any intention. But the kiss was god damn delightful. Jack knew to put his hand on his neck somehow. He tasted as good as he smelled. It was languid and slow like so many others weren’t. He felt his heart skipping beats, even though logically he knew that wasn’t what was happening.

Robby sat next to them and pulled Dennis away, not possessively, but firmly. He knew from firsthand experience that Jack could just keep going, and he’d wanted Dennis for a long time. Longer than he’d ever admit.

It made sense that Robby and Jack kissed the same. The pace was similar, curls of tongue complementary, the handholds the same. But Robby’s beard was longer compared to Jack's stubble. His hands were bigger and more of a caress than Jack's grip.

Robby was putting those big hands underneath his shirt when he moved to his neck. Dennis had a thing about his neck. It was pretty sensitive, and he didn’t feel the pain from bites, so his brain just interpreted any sharp sensations as intense pleasure. Jack turned his head back to him, and he felt his skin go taut, which made it all the more shiver-inducing. He leaned in like he was going to kiss him but stopped a hair short. “Go sit in the armchair.”

Dennis opened his mouth a little. At Michael’s sucking or at Jack's tone, he wasn’t sure. Robby unlatched and looked at Jack. Dennis said, “What? No!” It was breathy and pathetic but he wasn’t above begging. Not with these two.

“You don’t really get a say, do you?” Dennis shut his eyes tight, then opened them when Jack patted his thigh. “Be a good boy.” Dennis wanted to be, but he wanted to take and take and take right now, too. He could only bear so much touching and teasing. “Unzip your pants and sit in that chair.”

He swallowed and the men tracked the movement on his splotchy neck. “Fine.”

Robby smiled at the petulance. If they needed to teach him patience, so be it. He settled more into the couch, knowing what they were about to do, “Listen to Jack, baby.” It was practically a coo.

That got Dennis standing up despite his weak knees. It was like some psychosexual good cop, bad cop.

He complied with their orders and sat in the chair facing the couch with his pants undone.

Jack decided to keep his prosthetic on this time. He’d been off today and so he'd only worn it for the couple of hours they were in the car and at the mall. If Dennis decided to come around more, they’d have the whole talk. Jack wasn’t insecure about much anymore, age did that to you, but he was insecure about the sexual limitations of it all. Leverage was hard to find sometimes, positions were more thought out. He had to be ridden a lot more than he'd maybe like.

He used to bend his partners every which way, and he simply couldn’t do that anymore. It was stupidly one of the hardest things to come to terms with. He was a dominant top and he couldn’t fuck into people the same without a lot of forethought, and if he was having a bad pain day, it could dash any hopes. It made him feel useless for a while and was actually one of the things that drew him to this whole setup. Words often lay Dennis bare the way he used to be able to do with just his body.

Jack was a talker. He wanted Dennis to know what was in store for him. He wanted him to tell them he wanted it. “Ok, doll. I’ll tell you what. You’re going to sit over there and be pretty while we work each other up.” This was better than any porn Dennis had ever seen, holy shit. “Then, if you prove you can listen to us, maybe we’ll let you come back over here and we’ll finish you off. Sound good?”

It sounded torturous and not at all what he expected. He thought this would be all him in the middle. Hands holding him down. Rules about names. Kneeling on their expensive rug. He’d seen some of the scenarios suggested in the document they sent, and it all seemed more clinical on paper. This was watching two people in love.

It wasn’t what he wanted but that made it better. There was a point in his life where denial started feeling good. Maybe it had to. But this not being exactly what he wanted freed him a little. He could sit over here and squirm and pine because he wasn’t planning this. He wasn’t calling the shots.

Instead of saying all that, he said, “Yeah, that’s good.”

Robby was looking at him, searching for any discomfort. He didn’t think Dennis would disagree with them unless they went up against a hard no, which was a little misguided, so they’d have to pay attention.

“The only rule for this one is we want you to ask us before you finish. Can you do that?” Dennis nodded slowly, eyes already getting far away at the prospect, “You remember the system we sent you.” Dennis nodded again. “Nope, words for that one. Sorry, baby, I gotta hear it.”

“Yeah, I’m green or whatever.” They accepted that somewhat dismissive answer. Obviously, Dennis had never done this the way he was supposed to. It was probably why he felt so safe to immediately drop this far into submission for them with his boxers still on.

They watched him until his back was in the seat and he was shifting his thighs. And then they ignored him.

They turned to each other and started making out and humping on the couch like a couple of teenagers. Robby, surprisingly, pushed Jack onto his back. The throw pillows crumpled beneath his head and upper back to keep him elevated, while Robby slipped on top of him and put their thighs between each other’s legs

Jack's bum leg was flat against the couch cushion; the unsupported weight complicated its movement vertically, but his other leg was pushing itself against Robby solidly.

Dennis was mouth breathing now, an unattractive habit, but he felt like he was starving. For air, for contact, for attention.

Jack peeked open his eyes to check on him when he noticed he was just watching. Oh, so he’d have to be that specific in his commands? That was fine with him. He knew the kid had a habit of seeking reassurance for treatments he knew were correct, not always trusting himself to do what was right, even when he knew he was accurate. He needed explicit permissions, and Jack was more than willing. The veteran turned his head to the side and said, “Touch yourself, kid.”

Dennis bit his lip at the tone and the order. He slipped his jeans down a little more, along with his boxers, not knowing if they wanted him to take them off himself. He wanted to be good so bad.

He was hard when he took himself out of his underwear. He had a couple of dry strokes that were sort of rough, and Jack could tell. Robby was still grinding into him (he’d been horny for this man for way longer than he’d told Jack if his thinly veiled desperation was anything to go by), but he had turned his head to watch Dennis start in on himself.

Jack told him, “Come here.”

Was that it? Did they just want to see if he would comply? If he would go over there and jerk himself off at just the sight of them? Dennis clumsily walked over with his pants too low and his dick still out. He looked ridiculous, but the vulnerability was exactly what all three wanted.

Jack took his hand out of Robby's hair and grabbed Dennis’s right one when he got close enough. He spat in it. Dennis felt like he was going to pass out. Robby smirked a little at the blown out pupils and look on the kid's face and then took the hand out of Jack's grip and spat in it himself. He shut it for him in a loose fist before saying, “Go back over there and treat yourself well.”

Dennis was going to have a vasovagal episode if his blood kept feeling like it was jumping around like this.

The married couple went back to kissing. Jack pulled on Robby’s hair, and he didn’t quite moan, it was more of a huff, but it hit Dennis hard. He started jacking himself off with their spit as lube.

Jack didn’t need to look over, he could hear it. His guess was right, the intern was loud. He breathed deeply through his mouth and wiggled enough that the leather of the armchair creaked against itself. Jack knew he wouldn’t need to be told to know when he was close.

At one point, Jack unzipped Robby’s hoodie and pushed it back. Dennis had a thing for Robby’s arms. They were almost always covered and it created the sort of effect that he assumed Victorian men who saw knees for the first time felt. Seeing them flex as he held himself up around Jack was a treat.

And Dennis was fucking hydrated and well-fed this week. His body was in surplus. He was leaking already because he had the resources to waste on the stupid little display that was his arousal. It made things wetter and better.

Both men were breathing shallowly through their noses, still frotting against each other. They weren’t losing their minds to the sensations like Dennis was, if his increasing amount of noises was any indication, but they felt good. The mental aspect of it was much more important to them.

That young man was in their chair, in their living room, getting off to them. Because they’d told him to. He was rubbing their spit into his most private area and wasn’t allowed to come until they said he could.

Jack pushed Robby back with a hand on the front of his throat. Dennis had the unwelcome thought that the muscular man would be an easy stick. He was vascular as all get out. “Look at our boy. He’s practically drooling for it. You think he’s ready to come back?” The easy control of Jack's tone made him feel drunk.

They had talked about this. How Jack would be the leader. How they would dangle it in front of him so that when he got it, the relief would be palpable. How they wanted him to be gagging for it enough to lose all sense of embarrassment or propriety. Robby wanted that for him.

Robby hummed like he was thinking about it. “No, I think he was a little bratty earlier.” Jack gave an approving look, happy that Robby wasn’t going soft. They turned their necks to see the reaction.

Dennis whimpered at the rejection. He kept stroking himself through it, but shut his eyes and banged his head on the back of the chair. The husbands locked eyes at the sound; they were halfway to where they desired.

Robby pulled at Jack's shirt, knowing that his physique would make the kid feral when he started watching again. He wasn’t as confident in the impact he would have, but he took his shirt off anyway.

Dennis’s brain was logging off. Their chests were meeting. Jack was hairless, of course, the fucker manscaped, Robby was au natural, and Dennis was never more aware of just how manly his chief was. Jack's dog tags and Robby’s Magen David kissed each other, some meeting of history he’s sure a talented student could write a paper on. He didn’t feel particularly smart right now, though.

Dennis brought his other hand up to his mouth when he let out a high-pitched whine, unwittingly. It made him breathe fast through his nose. Jack could somehow tell without looking at him, “Ah ah, let us hear it.”

Dennis gulped the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth and moved his hand away from his face to grip the arm of this stupid fucking chair he was banished to. He was going to finish soon, and they hadn’t even touched him properly.

Dennis was having sounds punched out of him that he wasn’t fully aware of. He already had trouble staying quiet when masturbating by himself. He had to wait for Trinity to leave, but lately she’s been dragging him wherever she went like an emotional support animal. He hadn’t had alone time in weeks. But masturbating in front of his bosses who were putting on a show for him? He was a goner.

“I-“ He didn’t even want to admit it. “I’m close.”

Jack and Robby separated, lips swollen, necks red from the other’s facial hair. “Already, sweetheart?” Jack taunted. Dennis was screwed up enough to just find it hot.

Robby didn’t even spare him a glance when he said, “Ask nicer.”

Dennis made a strangled sort of squeak. Like that request overwhelmed him, probably did. His intern was obviously pent up. Robby remembered living with roommates. Dennis felt a sort of reckless abandon. He could regret pleading for permission to make himself orgasm later when he was alone. “Please let me come.”

“More.”

“Please, I need it. I…” A gasp interrupted him, “I’ll be good, I promise, just let me.”

Robby was fully hard in his pants from that, he felt Jack was too. He was ready to move on from this and continue with Jack's vision. “No.”

Dennis was still jerking himself off but he slowed down in disappointment. And also so he didn’t break the rule. “I-Please!”

Jack smirked; he liked how devastated he sounded. “No. Hands off.” Dennis kept a hand on himself for a little too long. “Now!” It was the sternest he’d sounded all evening. “Be a good boy, or we’re sending you home like this.” They would never, but Dennis didn’t need to know that.

Dennis, regrettably, felt compelled by that. The implication that they were going to help him out if he listened was like a carrot on a stick.

He was breathing heavily from the restraint. It wasn’t natural to stop yourself just as you were reaching a peak.

Robby removed himself from on top of Jack and sat back down, giving everyone a second to cool off. Robby took off his pants in the meantime. Jack was eager, though. Drunk on the power of dominating the situation. He called from his place lying on the couch, “You still on the edge, Sweetheart?”

“I don’t think so.” He wasn’t exactly sure. He’d never been this aroused before. These things had never happened to him, ever. The care and condescension, wrapped up in servitude. He would get back to that place quicker, probably.

“Ok, take off your clothes and come over here.” Dennis tripped a little on a leg of his pants when his foot got tangled. He was so dumb. Jack patted the space in between his legs and Dennis sat so his back was to the older man’s smooth chest. Finally, skin to skin. He was backing away from wanton and more towards accepting. He would take whatever they gave him if it meant they would touch him again. “Robby’s gonna blow you like this, alright?”

Christ Almighty, that was more than alright. Words like transcendent and awesome came to mind. He just bobbed his head, not trusting his voice not to crack because his attending was climbing between both of their legs, crawling on the couch, and putting his hands on his knees that were scarred from too many times of kneeling in gravel, not noticing the damage.

Robby wanted verbal, though. He liked it as much as he needed it to feel Ok about fucking his subordinate. He needed to know he at least explicitly wanted this. It would be the only way the guilt of it all wouldn’t eat him alive. “Tell me how much you want it.”

Dennis felt like someone turned on a fountain when the words tumbled out of him. “I want it so bad. Please, Sir. I need it! Have since my first rotation. You’ve driven me fucking crazy. Just-please do something.”

And, if the kid insisted.

Jack's dog tags were present in between them. Dennis wished he could feel if they were cold or skin warmed. He wished Robby weren’t a terrible tease.

He literally just confessed that he’d wanted this for a year, and the man was just running his big hands up and down his thighs. Occasionally going up to his hip bones but never to the middle. Jack's hands were around him, a facsimile of how they were in the store, however long ago that was. Hands back in his lower stomach, when Dennis needed them lower.

Dennis was going kinda crazy. He thought they would give him what he wanted. They had given him more than what he wanted the entire time before this, except for now? It made no sense. Indulgent in everything except for the one time he was imploring them. He could cry, which was probably the whole point. It was all just so mean.

Then it was back to nice Robby, good cop. He started taking pity on him. He was sufficiently wrecked, desperate the way they wanted, no doubt ruined enough to come back for more. Robby gave him the face he did when Dennis was particularly savvy on a case. Doting, keen, infatuated. How long had he been looking at him like that?

Robby knew he had big eyes. They weren’t usually looking up at people; they were when he leaned down and finally took Dennis in his mouth. The younger man felt enraptured by them. When the mouth closed around him, he practically shouted, “Thank God!”

“Don’t thank him, thank the softie who couldn’t watch you writhe anymore,” Jack jeered.

Dennis couldn’t understand sarcasm right now. “Thank you, Sir.”

Robby snaked a hand away from Dennis’s thigh and wiggled it between his body and the couch, palming himself through his briefs. So what if he got off on the name? He didn’t know how he’d act if he called him that word, his penultimate, shameful, most wanted fantasy that Jack never humored unless it was to make fun of him for.

Dennis couldn’t watch Robby try to grind into his own hand. He closed his eyes and twisted up into Jack's neck. He started sucking and licking at it when it just smelled too good not to. Jack’s only indication of being similarly affected by the whole scene was the way he dug his hard on into Dennis’s lower back when he focused on a particular sweet spot.

Robby was good at this. He knew it. He’d had enough practice over the years with a well-endowed husband. Dennis’s reactivity made him want to show off. He was acting like he was touching a live wire, the way he was shaking and sweating and twitching.

Robby went lower and lower until his nose was pressed against hair.

Dennis had gotten sucked off before, it was often him doing it enthusiastically and then not getting the same payment. Robby doing it first, with no expectation of pleasure from him, getting off on it, in fact, and doing it so reverently was making him ache.

Robby pulled off and used his hand while he spoke. “Look at me.” Dennis acquiesced and faced him again. Robby’s spit-slicked lips made him want to close his eyes again. “There’s my pretty boy. Wanna see your face.”

Dennis flushed at the compliment unbeknownst to him. He couldn’t feel the temperature of it. He felt the involuntary jerk of a shiver at a perfect suction, but not the cold sensation he knew everybody else felt. He was back to making those lewd, unintentional noises.

The brown eyes looking up at him, the mussed hair from the other man’s kisses, the fulfillment of a desire he’d let fester too long, believing it was unachievable, had him back in that place he was. He was sensitive from the first rise there and was downright delicate now.

“I’m about to-Let me, please,” he panted out. He could tell when Robby flicked those eyes to Jack, and the idea of them deciding together made it worse. Robby was looking to someone else for permission to give him his. This was so screwed up.

Jack felt like he was overcome. Dennis had gotten out of his head enough to be pitiful and debased. This was enough to keep him coming back. “Yeah, doll, you can do it. Robby likes it in his mouth, though. He’s kinda a slut about it.”

Robby squeezed himself hard. Fuck Jack. He sucked harder, keeping the tip on his tongue, wanting to taste it when it happened. Jack moved a hand from the intern's stomach, where they had been the whole time and wrapped it around the part Robby’s mouth wasn’t on. The permission, the hands, the mouth, the degrading of a man above him in every way. It all combined into a pleasure completely novel to him.

He swears his whited out. His hearing was funny after it. Jack had to hold him down by the hips because of the way he bucked up, and Robby had to keep firm on his thighs. He wasn’t aware of any of this, just heaving from the force of it all.

Robby’s eyes rolled to the back of his head at him coming undone in his mouth. It was one of his favorite things and it being Dennis made it feel sweet. He was happy to be of service this way. He sucked him until he was whining, not wanting to put this into overstimulation territory. They had plans for that later and didn’t want to spoil it.

Dennis gradually came back online. His chest stopped rising as dramatically. His eyes opened and were a little hazy still. “Fucking hell.” He’d read somewhere that the part of your brain in charge of curses was different from the part of your brain that handled speech. Must be why that was the only thing he felt capable of saying.

Jack chuckled, “Yeah, he could suck the soul outta someone.” And Robby had no right to look all demure about that after he’d just demanded Dennis look at him while he got the craziest neck of his life.

Of course, the first definite thought he had was about their pleasure. “What about you guys?” His leg muscles were contracting from the intensity of it all.

Robby said from his place between his legs, “You’re going to chill out a little, and we’re going to finish each other off.” Dennis went to protest. Something about his usefulness or ability or desire to please, but Robby marched through it. “It’s your first time with us, just watch, you don’t need to do everything at once.” It was a good point. This wasn’t some urgent one-time thing. He’d been assured it would happen as much as he wanted. It was easy to believe that when he was between them still.

Jack pushed him up a little when Robby got down on his knees in front of the couch and brought him out of his pants. Dennis scooted down until Jack grabbed him and brought him to sit side by side, thigh to ridiculously thick thigh. He swung his arm behind him like this was a bad first date in a movie theater. He would need the contact after something intense like that. They take care of him more in a minute. Dennis watched as Robby gave another blow job while really being able to jerk himself off without a couch being in the way. There was something disgustingly tender about the way they looked at each other, moaned at opposite times, then finished together. Robby lifted himself up enough to kiss Dennis one last time for the scene and him being able to taste Jack on his tongue made him want to do this all over again. How was he ever going to fuck anyone else?

They hand-fed him crackers, cheese, and fruit right there on the couch, like a prince. He didn’t even put his clothes back on, just got wrapped in a blanket. Dennis said something about girl dinner and they didn’t know what he was talking about.

Robby was making a cracker sandwich with brie, apple, and honey when he asked, “Everything was good for you, we weren’t too mean?”

“No, it was all great,” he replied. “It wasn’t what I was expecting, but I had a lot of fun.” Fun wasn’t accurate. A lot of it was not fun, but Dennis liked that. It was too much to explain.

Jack was kneading his neck from the other side. “What were you expecting?” It wasn’t a trap; he was just curious.

He tilted his head to the side, considering what to say. “Uh, honestly? I was expecting to get fucked.”

The two men laughed. Robby was the one to respond. “We have work tomorrow!” The person who just edged him looked scandalized at the idea of penetration on the eve of a workday.

“It would’ve been fine.”

“Not with how we want to do it,” Jack said.

That shut him up. Ok then.

They kept feeding him combinations of their fancy groceries. Cheeses he’d never had and jellies he didn’t know the names of. What the hell were capers anyway?

When he was full, he leaned into Robby’s side. Dennis thought it was probably a gross miscalculation of the intimacy allowed when they weren’t doing anything, but he felt needy. The other men just interpreted it for what it was, the appropriate aftercare people were supposed to get after scenes.

Robby got up to move the nearly empty tray to the kitchen, but he didn’t come straight back to the couch. He disappeared down a hallway and came back with folded fabric. He looked shy again. The duality of Michael, Dennis joked in his head.

He stood in front of them on the couch, “We got you some new scrubs. I hope they’re the right size.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” As a student, he’d been given five hospital-issued sets; they were the cheapest kind, ordered in bulk, and he’d never stopped wearing those. It wasn’t worth it to buy nice ones when he would just get blood or bile on them anyway. These men obviously didn't think the same. Michael handed them over, and they were soft. Not stiff like his other ones.

Jack sounded amused, “It was his way of giving you no excuse to not sleep over.”

Robby was annoyed at his motivations being revealed. “It’s too late, anyway. He needs to sleep.”

Dennis stilled a little. “Sleep over?”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t be alone after that, sweetheart.” Jack was petting his hair now.

The warring impulses of wanting to stay between them but not wanting to overstay his welcome complicated things. But they were offering, even if it was just polite or some antiquated Gen X expectation of cuddles after sex. Dennis couldn’t turn it down. He was greedy and bad, always had been.

They showed him how the shower worked and where their extra toothbrushes were. He had boxers and socks in his bag, so he wasn’t too screwed. He peeked out while towel drying his hair and asked Robby for some pajamas.

“I think this shirt might be older than you are, but it’s comfortable.” Dennis was going to pass out from lust.

Jack was already under the covers, leaning back on the tufted headboard, reading a book. He’d used the en suite with all his accommodations, and his time in the military had made showers a quick, utilitarian affair. Dennis didn’t mention the crutches by the bed that must’ve assisted him in getting there. He’d heard some things around the water cooler but hadn’t heard anything from the couple. They’d probably talk about it soon. These guys like to talk about everything, it was kinda annoying.

Robby was in the bathroom now, and it was just Dennis and Jack in the bedroom. They didn’t have as much time alone together as he and Robby. Dennis didn’t know what he meant to the man. Was he just going along with this to please his partner? Did he even want him at all? It was easy to imagine the attending liking him when he was saying all that dirty shit, but in moments like these, where there were no directions, his head went a little wild.

Jack saw the hesitation by the doorway, the questions about his place in this all. He took off his reading glasses that he refused to let anyone see him outside the home in and moved the covers next to him down a tad. Dennis had a love-hate relationship with how well these men could read him.

He gingerly climbed into the king-sized bed, and it sank around him. They had one of those memory foam mattresses that could make a peasant cry. Dennis sat with a couple of inches between them still. He didn’t want to overstep. This was probably Robby’s thing he indulged in. It was nice that he even let him sleep here tonight.

Jack dissuaded any of those thoughts the moment he shifted closer and held the book so Dennis could read it too. The intern exhaled, something in his chest loosened.

When did he become so easy? A little physical affection and suddenly his place in the world was affirmed? A little denial and he was begging? A coat and scrubs and he was warm all over when he knew nothing of true heat? He needed to get a grip. But then Robby came out of the shower, in sweatpants and no shirt. Soft, casual, his. Even if it was just for the night, or a month, or however long they deigned to keep him around. He decided he would just be easy for them. He let Robby move and adjust them until he was being held from behind and Dennis’s forehead was touching Jack's hip.

Obedience, at one time, had been natural to him. He would hold the ropes as they shredded his hands, go out and break ice in the troughs hours before his brothers woke, take his father's hands as law.

It was one of the reasons his parents paid for part of his undergrad. They had full trust that he would go off to the big city (if Omaha counted, it used to feel bigger) and come back the same good boy.

But people don’t talk about how theology degrees make you question. How they teach you languages, interpretations, histories. You learn all the different thought processes of everyone that came before you, and it makes what your pastor, who happens to be your parents' friend, sound like a fucking moron.

‘Love covers a multitude of sins,’ 1 Peter 4:8.

It was one of the first verses he’d translated from Hebrew. It made him question if he knew what love even was. If he had anything that covered his multitude of sins. At one point, he could’ve sworn he felt God. Felt love. He would’ve told you that his mother loved him, she was just busy. That his brothers loved him, they were just young. That his father loved him, he was just angry. But then he’d hear people talk about missing home, how they couldn’t wait to get back in their own bed, how they had their favorite meal waiting for them, how they just wanted to hug their mom. And then he’d realized that he hadn’t missed anything at all.

He didn’t have his own room. He shared with his brother, who would kick him out in the middle of the night when his girlfriend snuck in through the back door. His bed was at least fifteen years old. He didn’t feel pain, but he felt discomfort. No one cared about him sleeping in the barn. No one cared about the springs poking through. Not for him, at least. His mother made what his father wanted for dinner, Dennis didn’t get to have favorites. His mother didn’t hug him ever, either.

It was hard to believe in God’s love, the God his parents had instilled in him, when he never felt theirs.

Dennis fucked one of his TAs about it. He was older and wiser, and he touched him. Nobody touched him kindly back then. It opened a floodgate. There was no arc big enough to hold fast all of the faith washed away in one semester.

He ended up shadowing a hospital chaplain. Dennis was surprisingly good at that, he found the words easily and the gore didn’t bother him.

He took a full course load for his intended major and added all the prerequisites necessary to get into a medical school. At first, he just told himself it was so he could be of better service to his community when he went back, but then he stopped thinking about going back at all.

He’d have to go back this Christmas. He’d pray at the table. They’d judge him for whatever medical disinformation was trending in their Facebook groups. He’d tell them that, of course, they didn’t take live people's organs, of course, Tylenol didn’t cause autism, of course, he wasn’t going to take horse dewormer for fake parasites. He’d shake his father’s hand at the end like the sight of it outstretched didn’t make him feel a primal fear.

But at one time those hands had been kind, before he had a punchable face or a smart mouth, before everyone knew he was an ordained wrath absorber who could take it like no one else. He’d felt the kindness of God's hands on him at one time, he was sure.

He knew it because when Father God laid hands on him, they felt a lot like Robby’s did right now.

Dennis had a dreamless sleep. He didn’t dream often, or at least he didn’t remember them.

He didn’t wake to an alarm, he woke to Jack shaking Robby. “Breakfast’s ready.” Another routine they must’ve had.

It was just eggs and toast, nothing compared to the brunch they’d made him when all of this had started, but Dennis liked simple. He sat down eagerly.

Before he could actually dig in, Jack clicked his tongue at him a couple of times and said, “Nuh-uh, temperature check first.” Dennis wanted to whine about being hungry, about personal agency, about how he’d gotten this far without all of that, but he was working on being easy. And there was something so tempting about being good for these men. Like they wouldn’t take all his devotion and make him tithe ten percent on top of it.

Dennis glared up a little from his seat at the man still standing when Jack had him open his mouth and put the thermometer under his tongue, but the glare turned glassy when Jack held his chin. Maybe he was keeping his lips closed, maybe he was forcing eye contact, but the hand almost on his throat felt guiding, and Dennis had been spinning out since his shower last night.

The thermometer beeped when it was done. “98.4, good boy.” He petted his head like a dog. Dennis was resolutely deciding for his dignity that he was not into that. That was a bridge too far.

Robby watched as he ate. There was something so gratifying about seeing them together. He’d never shared Jack with anyone. He didn’t know how many feelings he’d have to resolve in order to have something like this, but he didn’t think it would just be…nice. Getting a third-person point of view, watching his husband care like this, enforce like this. It was all exciting.

Watching Dennis eat their food was nice too. He’d heard how Dennis was the one who cooked for the household, cleaned too. Trinity made housewife jokes and talked about Dennis’s lack of seasonings when he’d first moved in enough to convince most of the floor they were together those first couple months.

It made everyone angry at Trinity’s shameless flirting in front of him when he’d finally come back after he’d matched to the PTMC. Robby remembered distinctly thinking about stealing him from her, taking him into a closet, and convincing him she wasn’t good enough for him. He’d nearly started brainstorming excuses to get her on the night shift just so he wouldn’t have to see her face.

He’d settled on talking to them about their ‘relationship’ and how they needed to disclose it and maintain professional conduct at work. Robby felt an unprofessional amount of relief when they’d both acted so disgusted at the idea of dating one another, it reminded him of siblings. They’d also revealed that they were both ‘super gay,’ which was hilarious when he wasn’t coming hot off being blinded by jealousy.

Taking care of Dennis felt natural. They felt natural with Dennis. He’d felt it that first day when he just couldn’t stop touching him. He’d felt it in that Pede’s room when just the vision of him with the halo of fluorescents was enough to get him off the floor. And he’d felt it every day he’d gotten the privilege to spend time with him since. Robby was starting to think Jack could feel it, too, if the way he was looking back at how Dennis was enjoying one of the five things he knew how to cook was any indication.

Dennis swallowed a big bite before asking nervously, “Um, should I text Trinity to pick me up?” Dennis didn’t want to assume.

Robby was confused by the question. He frowned a little. “Why would she pick you up?”

Because this is over, you got your dominance fix for the week, you must be tired of me by now. All of that sounded pathetic in a non-sexy way. Dennis lied, “I don’t know.”

Robby put his fork down on his plate and looked at him like he saw through it all. He may have, but it might just be his face that always looked so penetrating. “We’re driving in together. It’s too cold to walk, and I have a reserved parking spot and everything,” he joked.

They finished breakfast, and Dennis went to change into his scrubs. Robby and Jack met in the kitchen, and the veteran said, “Kid really doesn’t expect us to do anything for him, huh?” Jack was skeptical at first when Robby described it. How giving the intern was, how he never even thought that someone would reciprocate.

His birthday happened sometime during his rotation. They didn’t realize until he mentioned something about being 27. He was baffled when people got pissed at him, said it wasn’t a big deal. But when it was Mel’s birthday, he made her a whole cake and got a Birthday Girl button. So birthdays were a big deal to him, just not his. Dana got him donuts from Oakmont Bakery this year and Robby made the whole staff sing happy birthday to him to make up for it.

“Yeah, I think he’s just not used to people giving a shit.”

“His roommate’s nice to him, though, right? They’re basically conjoined twins.”

Robby considered it. “Nice is a stretch for anything concerning Santos, but I think she’s his friend.”

Jack looked down and stepped closer so he could say it quietly, “We’re going to show him how he should be treated, right?” Jack had that look in his eye, determined but also so god damn considerate.

“He’ll be spoiled rotten in a couple of months, just you wait.” They pecked,  Robby went off to get ready, and Jack cleaned up breakfast.

And if Jack took a handful of the scrub top they gave him the night prior and pulled him in for a filthy kiss they both would be thinking about all day, well that was just a part of the plan.

“See you in twelve and a half hours, doll.”

Dennis had no idea what the rules were.

At the hospital, Trinity immediately noticed the difference. “Whose scrubs are those?”

“Mine?”

“They bought you Figs?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I guess so, I didn’t look.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Trinity had a shit eating grin, knowing he had no idea what that meant. “Those are like, a hundred dollars per set!”

Dennis’s face dropped; he couldn’t have ever expected that. “You’re lying.” He hoped she was just fucking with him. When she slowly shook her head, he said, “They bought me like four pairs!”

“Oh my God, I need a sugar mommy.”

Dana called out an incoming cardiac arrest, and they mobilized, but Trinity was totally going to start a calculation on all the money they were spending on him.

Robby wasn’t being fair to student doctor Flores. It was true that cooler heads prevail (Robby post Dennis’s dick in his mouth being the cooler head), and he needed to put his possessiveness to the side. He couldn’t let his feelings get in the way of the education of a student.

Besides, he was sure her little crush must’ve died down, and he would feel better now that he knew where he stood with Dennis.

But it was all worse. She wasn’t even supposed to shadow Dennis today, but she kept leaving Mel to go find the farm boy. And Robby wasn’t more Ok with that now that he’d had confirmation of Dennis’s feelings, he was actually about to fire a student if you could even do that. Maybe report her to her school? For what he wasn’t sure. Desperation?

And the attending couldn’t tell if Dennis was playing into it all because he liked the attention or if he was genuinely oblivious, but either way, he needed to stop. Right now.

But Dennis was being too kind. He was answering her questions with detail and politely laughing at her jokes that were really just observations. She was taking it the wrong way and getting more confident, and confident meant touching.

Robby had no leg to stand on, there were no boundaries against anything like this. Dennis was not obligated to shut down any type of flirting. Maybe he could convince Dennis it was sexual harassment? But then what was Robby doing that whole rotation with the younger man?

Robby resolved himself to be fucking normal about it. He was naturally jealous with things that were his. It was a miracle that he didn’t feel that way with Dennis and Jack. Part of it was that Dennis was so supplicating, obviously never wanting to go further than allowed, but more of it was how Dennis felt like theirs.

But he was the Chief of Emergency Medicine and in his fifties, for Christ's sake. He needed to accept that Dennis would be flirted with. But he also could just offer him more than anyone else could, so the idea of other people was completely unappealing. Take that, Flores.

Robby went over, interrupted the girl mid-sentence, and touched Dennis’s arm, “Hey, Dennis.” The younger man scrunched his eyebrows at the use of his first name in the hospital. They weren't going to do that, he thought. “We’ve got a foreign object in a three-year-old's nose. You mentioned wanting to see the Mother’s Kiss method. Wanna join in?”

Dennis gave an apologetic look to Layla but went along happily with no complaint. Robby stayed long enough to watch her face get dejected. Good.

They definitely needed to have that talk.

He and Trinity had next to nothing in their kitchen and both of them hated the grocery store. Obviously, those two facts meant they both had to go to the Giant Eagle together.

Trinity was always too loud, but her voice felt booming when she asked about his throuple situationship with his bosses around all of the retirees and stay-at-home moms prepping for Thanksgiving. “They texted you, ‘We need to talk…’?”

“Yes! The dot, dot, dot, and everything.” Dennis was crossing off ingredients on his paper list Trinity called him a boomer about.

“But I thought Dr. Abbot gave you that coal miner's wife kiss right before you left, why would they break it off?”

It was a really good kiss. The kind that made Dennis feel all stupid and giggly. “I’m freaking out, Trin. What did I do?”

“Maybe it’s an old person thing. That’s how my mom texts sometimes.” She shrugged while considering which bag of chips to get that week. There was a three-for-two deal, and she was considering just bringing chips for lunch all week, but Dennis would probably yell at her about it.

“They’re not that old.” He defended, not sure whose honor he was guarding.

She looked away from the Hot Cheetos. “Isn’t Robby the same age as your father?”

Dennis opened his mouth a little but had no retort. Yeah, he was the same age as his father. And he wasn’t going to think about why that made it all the more alluring.

The roommates left the store with the ingredients for the meals Dennis planned and all the snacks Trinity could ever eat. And if she chose baked barbecue for the third bag of chips in the deal, it just so happened to be Dennis’s favorite. It certainly wasn't intentional.

The couple arranged for him to come over the next time Jack had the night off. The temperature checks turned into a reassurance. They would send him the reminder and he would put the thermometer in his mouth and think about how they wanted him still. Cared. That felt like a dangerous word.

What was there to talk about? That night was fun, the sex was good, and the sleep was better. So what if Dennis had a little bit of self-loathing in between? He usually got sad after sex. He’d never gotten over the conditioning of his childhood, even though he knew it most likely wasn’t true. He wasn’t the only person in the world having kinky sex outside of marriage. In fact, this one was technically within a marriage, just not one Dennis was a part of.

He thought of the book of Genesis, of Rachel and her handmaiden, Bilhah. How she let her into her marriage to conceive sons that she went on the claim as her own. This was a means to an end.

Neither Robby nor Jack could give each other frequent submission. They both didn’t want to live a life without it. Dennis, a man so below their station, was young and willing.

Dennis also knew how that story ended. So many stopped it in the middle, whether they were using it to justify their surrogacy or their partners outside of their biblical marriage. Rachel went on to bear her own sons, but her entanglement with Bilhah complicated her life when she could’ve just been patient and waited for her prayers to be answered. Rachel did not trust God enough.

She was punished for it when she died while giving birth to her second child.

Would Dennis get disregarded when their marriage was interesting again? Would Robby find it within himself to submit more? Would he get to an age where he was no longer useful to the couple? This could only end poorly.

Dennis couldn’t find it within himself to care about that.

The pleasure was too great, the opulence undeniable. His greed and lust would be the death of him, just like his father said.

Dennis had tried to banish thoughts like these all his adult life. He’d tried to stop thinking in verses and psalms. He tried to hum songs in the shower that weren’t hymns. Sometimes he succeeded, but then other times, times when he knew he was doing something illicit, it was harder.

It was wrong and dirty. He was wrong and dirty. He had been raised better, even if he had barely been raised at all.

He was going to keep sinning. The devil was beautiful and convincing, and Dennis was a vain fool.

Dennis saw the devil when Jack opened the front door that night. Surely the universe could not supply a more hellish smirk, a more convincing body. Dennis reminded himself that he had determined that all to be bull shit designed to control the masses.

If Jack were the devil, Robby was the Holy Spirit. A room-filling presence of light meant to guide, comfort, and teach you. Big eyes and hands watching over you. Pushing you slightly to their luxurious couch. That full voice asking you how your day was, even if he’d been omnipresent.

Dennis replied to the question, “You know that little boy hurled on me and I had to dig a shampoo bottle out of someone’s ass.” You know that I’ve had a shit day, and for some reason I still wanted to come over here and get my heart stomped on just to be in your presence one last time, is what he wanted to say.

Jack was grabbing drinks for them when he said, “You only got puked on once today? That’s pretty good for you.”

Robby didn’t notice Dennis’s turmoil, assuming the man was prickly from his shift. He was just looking at the young man next to him, thinking about how beautiful his side profile was. “We just wanted to talk about a couple of things.” Dennis heard Jack pop the tops off of three beers. Maybe if he pounded one, he could feel a buzz for this.

Dennis thought he’d get a little more conversation. A little more something at least. This was ending too fast. “Yeah, I get it.”

Jack came, handed everyone their beers, and sat behind Robby, who was angled to face Dennis. Dennis didn’t like how he went from between them to beside. Jack was back where he belonged.

Dennis was staring off into space now, not wanting to look at them while they did it. They just thought he was getting fuzzy already, thinking they’d have to be quick if this was how it would be.

Jack snapped his fingers a little to get him to re-engage before saying, “We probably should’ve asked for this before we did anything, but you’ve tested recently, right?”

Dennis tilted his head and let out an unattractive, “Huh?”

Jack smiled at the idea of him being so gone already just from the setting and a couple of days of no contact, ignorant of the anxiety under the surface.  “Do you have your MyChart or your phone?”

Dennis was reeling. They wanted to ask if he was clean? “Um, yeah, I can pull it up.” He went through his phone to find the results from last month. “I haven’t had any partners since this.” He showed them the negative results for the panel. Would they judge him for this next part? “I um-I’m on Apretude just to be safe.” He couldn’t bear the thought of them thinking he was dirty, but he’d needed the extra measure at one point to be sure.

The husbands didn’t care about that, of course. They were happy he was being so safe. They were relieved that there were options for people now after losing so many. Jack lightened the mood with, “Kids these days are so God damn lucky with PrEP.”

Dennis breathed out an inaudible sigh. “Yeah, really lucky!” He took a swig of the beer he didn’t even like. But he’d been pretending to like beer since he was fourteen and just wanted to seem like a man to his brother’s, so he could get over it. He set the bottle down on the coffee table, worried he would be stupid and drop it. Weren’t they breaking up with him? Why were they asking about his testing? Could he even call it a breakup?

Robby took his hand when he noticed it was shaking, not quite understanding why. Maybe it was the adrenaline of coming off a shift? Maybe he hadn’t eaten enough? “Are you good to talk tonight? You seem kind of…” He trailed off, not wanting to accuse.

“Oh! No, I’m fine. I just thought you guys were, like, ending it, and I got a little nervous I did something wrong.” Dennis tried to laugh a little to make it feel lighter, but it died when the men looked at him with concern. “You’re not, right? Ending it?

Jack raised his brows, making his forehead wrinkles pronounced, “Why would you think that, sweetheart?” He put his bottle down, too.

“You texted, ‘We need to talk.” Neither men indicated that they understood. “With ellipses!”  

Robby creased his forehead as well, “Is that supposed to mean something?” He squeezed Dennis's hand a touch too hard at the idea of Dennis silently freaking out over something he texted two days ago.

“It usually means that someone’s ending something. The dot, dot, dot, is, like, super ominous.”

The older men were confused. They didn’t know the rules to this. It was easy to forget that there would be communication barriers between them. It wasn’t just Dennis not knowing The Bangles. It wasn’t just them bringing him up to speed with their references and teasing him about being so young; they needed to change a couple of things about the way they conveyed information to him if it meant different things to his generation. They felt terrible now.

Robby put his other hand on the bottom of Dennis’s, effectively sandwiching his small hand with two larger ones. “Why didn’t you say anything? You must’ve been nervous for a little bit.”

“I-uh-“ The contact, the soft voices, the not blaming him for his own head spinning things, it made him feel…”I’m not sure, sorry.” He really wasn’t. He should’ve known they wouldn’t want him to feel like that.

Jack, noticing how affected Robby was, put a steadying hand on his back. “That's fine, just tell us in the future about this type of stuff, Ok?”

Robby cleared his throat, trying to rein in his emotions. “You know that we want to keep you around, yeah? We like doing this with you.”

Dennis smiled when Jack nodded seriously. He could kick that can down the road a little. He can live in this moment where they’re both steadfast in their desire. He’ll keep coming around until that fateful moment they decide he’s not worth it anymore. He recalls that they replaced Bilhah with her sister once she was no longer fertile. Maybe another intern will come along with a tenth of the baggage and a more pleasing countenance. Hopefully, he’ll still have Trinity by then. He thinks he could get through that with her beside him.

Robby turned to look at Jack, more focused on what he was going to bring up. They needed to talk out the logistics of Jack's disability. Jack was cautious about Dennis not being attracted to him once he saw it all. Not wanting this once he realized that Jack maybe couldn’t do everything he’d fantasized about.

Jack gathered his courage, he’d only talked about this with a couple of people before. His wife, when it was all fresh, his therapist, the couple of people he’d gotten with between his two marriages, and Robby. Jack wasn’t sure what about Dennis made it worth it, but he got the feeling in the back of his skull that it was. He swallowed his fear before saying, “I’m sure you’ve noticed my…situation.” He stopped and looked out the window.

Dennis tried to wait for him to continue, but he seemed stuck. “Like the PTSD? You seem to be managing it very well.” Dennis had been paying attention since he saw the man on guard at the mall. How he couldn’t stand hot, still air, or how he waited until it was light out to sleep most days.

“What? No. I mean, yeah, I have that too, but…” He took a big breath, he didn’t have to explain this to people anymore. It was one of the reasons he didn’t add many people to his life who could see him this much. Everyone in his life were around for the calls an ocean away, the updates on rehab and physio, the fittings for new prosthetics. Or they were Robby, who just got it all. The other times he’d tried this had been awful. Pleads to keep his residual limb covered by the blanket, frustration at the high pain days, disgust at the fat pad (that he was quite lucky to have as it made his mobility a lot easier) that moved in disconcerting ways sometimes.

Dennis reached across Robby, leaning in to him in a way that was a little uncomfortable to lay a hand on Jack's knee. Robby pulled his beer back to his chest to keep it from spilling. “I’m sure whatever it is, it won’t make a difference.”

Jack looked pained when he said, “It does make a difference, though. It will make things different. And I wish it didn’t.” It was frustrating to convey all the ways his life was different.

“Ok, it might change things. But I doubt it’s as bad as you’re building it up to be.”

Jack pursed his lips, his eyes were sad and cautious. Dennis wanted to climb over Robby to stroke his cheek. Show him that he could take care of him. Dennis knew it wasn’t in the dynamic they’d laid out originally, though. It wasn’t what the man wanted from him.

Jack wanted to just get it out there. Wanted to stop being such a pussy about something that happened over fifteen years ago. But it didn’t just happen that one time. It happened all over again every time he tripped, or his weight fluctuated enough to need to be refitted, or every time he had to use a fucking shower chair as an otherwise healthy man in his forties. He was continually going through his worst moment, again and again and again. The moment stretched on for as long as he would struggle with his amputation. Which would be forever.

Jack looked at the hand Dennis clumsily put on his knee. Dennis didn’t know that the other leg was scarred and wobbly.  Jack steeled himself, becoming objective. He couldn’t be lost in emotions while telling Dennis this. If he were, he’d never say it.

“I’m a lower leg amputee. I was pretty lucky. I have a lot of my leg still, so my mobility isn’t too affected when I have my prosthetic on. I know you’ve seen the crutches and the railings, and you’ve been really fucking nice not to ask about them, but I understand that it’s not exactly sexy to most people, so…” Jack looked away from Dennis’s hand that was still there and to the TV that was cycling through screensavers. “I kept my pants on last time. I figured it would make sense to see if you liked us before talking to you about all this because it’s still kinda hard for me, obviously.” He ended with a self-deprecating tone. He rubbed his face roughly and coughed a little before picking his bottle up and taking a sip, just to have something else to focus on.

Dennis and Robby were looking at Jack, so concerned. Jack hated it. He liked it when he was unimpeachable, an impregnable fortress. But he had to do this if he ever wanted to feel at peace having genuine intimacy with Dennis, and he was starting to want that. These past months of passing conversation, the texts in the group chat about their days or the cute cats Dennis fed behind his apartment, the way he was docile one minute and surprising them the next. Jack wanted to curl up and show him that soft underbelly he pretended didn’t exist. It made him feel pathetic.

“Thank you for telling me, Jack.” Dennis wasn’t practiced in this. His father’s buddy had lost a hand in a combine, but he didn’t talk about it. What do you say to that besides, “It really doesn’t change things for me,” Dennis tried to convince.

Jack felt annoyed. At himself, at Dennis, at his country, at the person who made that IED. Jack put his bottle down again, roughly this time. It made Dennis flinch back a little and remove his hand from the man's knee. Robby stiffened between them. Jack said, “It does, though! There will be days when I won’t feel like doing anything. There will be positions I can’t do. And, fuck, I get angry randomly about it like I’m doing right now, and I promise you, I hate it too.” Jack’s face was getting red.

Robby’s eyes were watching Dennis; the recoil was shocking but familiar. Dennis was scared, maybe even triggered. Robby was realizing he didn’t know enough about the boy’s past to understand why. He was ready to step in, to tell Jack to go collect himself, but then that scared look went somewhere else.

Dennis knew about flight, fight, freeze, and fawn. The reactions you instinctively had when your nervous system felt like your safety was threatened. He chose to fawn often, freeze occasionally, flight even less so. He’s resolved to choose fight if the man in front of him was going to think so lowly of himself and Dennis. He straightened his spine, “I don’t give a shit about any of that. I get why it’s a big deal to you, and that’s fine. But don’t assume I’m some ableist asshole who’s going to make you feel bad for not putting out. I’m a doctor for fucks sake!”

Jack’s eyes widened at the tone shift. Dennis had never spoken like that before to him, nor had Robby. People had a tendency to treat him with kid gloves, even when he was lashing out. Deeming the amputee, traumatized, veteran widow too sad to approach harshly. This was good.

Robby didn’t feel that way. He hated shit like this. He wanted puppy piles and daisy chains and them singing Kumbaya. “Whoa, maybe we should take a second and calm down.” He said it in that tone he learned in his mandatory de-escalation training. At least Dennis and Jack could agree on one thing right now: they loathed that tone.

Dennis and Jack maintained eye contact over the man's shoulder when they said in unison, “Shut up, Michael.”

Michael looked incredulous between them. “Fuck you guys, I’m going to go call the Chinese place if you’re both going to be like that.” Robby didn’t like to watch two people he cared about fighting. It reminded him too much of growing up.

Robby skulked off to use the landline in the kitchen, because of course these old fuckers still had a landline. They had three, in fact. Dennis should make them cancel it with their wireless provider because it makes them seem ancient.

It was like a string was cut, the tension was lessened. Jack drank more of his beer and turned his body to sit properly on the couch, with his back reclined into the cushion. Dennis followed suit. What just happened felt revealing, real. Jack was a bit of a dick, and Dennis was a touch rougher than the couple thought he could be.

The younger man was spiraling in his head about it. He didn’t really mean to be so blunt, but he got pissed at Jack insinuating he would make him feel bad about something as big and involuntary as that. He was also sad about how low Jack’s confidence was regarding this. Did he fuck this up? It probably wasn’t the most politically correct response he could’ve had. He just yelled at a guy experiencing an emotional response to having to explain his disability he most likely got through combat. Great job, Dennis. They probably think you suck and are definitely going to break up with you now.

Jack knew he fucked up. Sometimes he lost his handle on everything. He became irritable and unsociable. There wasn’t anything anyone could say to make him not angry. Except Dennis said the right thing there, which was curious. He hoped he didn’t fuck this up.

Jack looked at the ceiling fan, “I-uh-I’m sorry I got intense there.”

Dennis looked at the little white scars on his hands. “I’m sorry, too.”

Robby was giving the address to the restaurant, telling them they didn’t need any utensils.

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have assumed it would be a big deal to you.” He looked ashamed when he tipped back the last of his bottle.

Dennis couldn’t help but think he would do anything to keep that look off his face forever. “I minimized it, though. I-I wasn't exactly tactful.”

“Kid, I’m so over people being tactful with me. I had enough of tact in the fucking desert, and now it’s all I get over here too.” He made a gesture to Robby, who was asking about the owner's son graduating soon. Dennis laughed a tiny bit. “You did good. With me.”

They both laid their heads back, relaxing their necks completely, just looking at each other. Cheeks pressed against the leather. Appraising.

Jack was more fragile than he appeared. And Dennis had this firm core that you’d never know about unless you poked too hard. Jack resented the reason Dennis had to develop a spine of steel when he obviously desperately just wanted to be taken care of and treated softly. Jack resented that it was probably someone a lot like himself who made him that way.

Dennis felt protective of this man, whom he’d seen restrain violent patients and improvise medical equipment like MacGyver. He felt protective of his own personal devil. Oh shit.

That oh shit feeling kept rolling when Michael came in all cautious and asked them, “Are we good?” The man had unrolled the sleeves on his too-big sweater, and they were covering his hands. Basically a wearable security blanket. Dennis felt overwhelmed.

Jack answered, “Yeah, baby. We’re sorry about yelling. Come sit and you can put whatever on the TV.” He knew Robby didn’t like to watch people fight. And he didn’t like yelling as much as he seemed to just accidentally do it when stressed.

Dennis and Jack didn’t need to talk to know that meant come back to your spot in between us.

Robby looked suspicious at the idea of it all being resolved, but he had to trust them. From everything he’d read, this would only work if they had relationships between all of them independently of the other. Maybe Jack and Dennis were both of the kiss-and-make-up variety. Also, Jack never let him watch Bridgerton when he was around.

Dennis and Jack both had issues, though. Fighting raises your cortisol, adrenaline, and testosterone. Arguments get your heart pumping and your blood hot. Resolutions bring you closer emotionally. All of these symptoms overlap with the symptoms of sexual arousal. And tension often demands a release in whatever way it can.

They were watching some girl interact with her terrible mother while shifting around. Thinking of baseball and injuries in the hopes it would go away. But then Dennis would see Robby in the corner of his eye, with his stupid glasses, enamoured with this cheesy show, and lose all his progress. It was the same for Jack.

Jack was used to getting his needs met. When Robby was around, he was practically Pavlov’ed. And he’d had good luck on these new meds, his drive wasn’t affected at all. Maybe he was pent up still from that stint a couple of months ago when he had a reduced libido. Maybe it was the fact that this farm boy just yelled at him a little and now he wanted to reduce him to whimpers to feel like a man again.

Jack put his arm around Robby’s shoulder and the man fell into him, needing comfort after the heightened almost argument. Robby should’ve realized then. That was totally one of his ridiculous ‘I want to initiate sex’ moves.

Jack's hand ended up at the nape of Dennis’s neck, playing with the hair there. It wasn’t helping Dennis count backward from a thousand by sevens, certainly. He put a throw pillow in his lap as smoothly as he possibly could.

Robby was getting annoyed at Jack constantly moving. His legs were fidgeting and the arm behind his head was wiggling too much. He checked the man’s face to see if he was in pain. Sometimes he would spend too long in his prosthetic and it would cause raw skin but he didn’t seem to be uncomfortable. Robby looked over and noticed his husband slightly pulling on Dennis’s hair. It made Dennis’s mouth hang open a little. The younger man's hands were wringing the hell out of Robby’s favorite throw pillow.

He drew the line at his decor getting brought into this. “Are you both serious right now? You just got into a fight, and we have food coming in,” he checked his phone for the time, “twenty minutes!”

Jack pulled harder when Dennis let out a guilty squeak, which made the boy groan softly. He couldn’t feel the sting of it, but the feeling of the pull, the control over his movements. Dennis was this close to grinding into the pillow that was meant to hide his erection.

Robby pinched his nose. He thought people got less horny as they aged, but these two men proved that was false.

And Dennis wasn’t completely dissuaded by Robby’s annoyed huffs, at his distaste. He flashed back to when they ignored him for so long he felt like he was going to cry and it reminded him of that.

Jack widened his legs. “Mikey, let us have make-up sex. It’s healthy.”

Robby narrowed his eyes at his husband. “It’s decidedly not, but I’m happy we’ve found someone with similarly crossed wires.” He looked over at Dennis and his stare turned fonder while he ripped his pillow away from him. It was William Sonoma! It wasn’t the boys' fault that Jack was a fiend, however. He’d gotten riled up and he was so young after all. Jack watched his husband’s face turn understanding at the sight of Dennis being embarrassingly turned on. They were going to be able to convince him to allow it at least. “Go on then.”

“What?” Dennis panted out.

Robby played at being stern. “You have twenty minutes until the delivery driver is here.” Jack tugged on a patch of hair further up by his crown, pulling his head back. “You and Jack gotta be done by then, or the poor guy’s going to get quite a show.” You could just barely see through the entryway to the front door from the couch.

Robby took advantage of Jack's grip and tilted his face down to land a hard kiss on Dennis. He wasn’t in the mood right now to do anything else, he’d had a long day, and Jack and Dennis had stressed him out, but kissing was always welcome when it was with these two men.

Jack used his hand to puppet Dennis a little. Moving his head to the side or back to respond to Robby the way he knew was right. When Robby pulled back, he looked at Dennis once to see if he was comfortable. When he only saw that wanton expression, the swollen, beard burned lips barely suppressing a smile, the rising chest, he got up to unload the dishwasher. Someone had to do it.

Jack patted his lap, telling Dennis to get on. He complied and put his thighs bracketing the older man’s.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I wanna get fucked.” He’d wanted that for what feels like forever. They were making him crazy.

“We don’t have enough time. Besides, don’t you want Michael to be around for that?” Plates were clinking as the other man put them in the cabinets. Dennis was so weird for liking that he was over there, watching, listening to them. “Are you even prepped?”

Dennis had cleaned himself and stretched a little before coming over. “Yeah.” He squirmed around Jack’s thighs, thinking he had persuaded the man to give him what he wanted.

Jack chuckled a little at how eager he was. “Didn’t you think we were breaking up with you?” So it would’ve been a breakup, good to know.

“I wasn’t completely hopeless.”

Jack really laughed at that. “You’re something else.” He started running his hands up and down Dennis’s sides. “Since you were good and came prepared, I’ll finger you. How about that?”

Dennis couldn’t hide the disappointment. “When will it happen?”

“Well, Robby abused his power and got the next month's schedule lined up in a particularly favorable way for us, so definitely soon.”

Dennis liked that he had that power over them. That he could arrange his days just so he could get him in bed the most. “Can we stop talking? We’ll run out of time.”

“Like you’re gonna last longer than fifteen minutes. Not exactly your forte, from what I remember, ” he degraded. “If anyone’s going to have to focus, it’ll be me.”

Dennis flushed and opened his mouth to defend himself, but then Jack started kissing his neck. His stubble was scratchy and he started sucking at his collarbone, stretching his shirt a little lower to have access. Dennis started to try to grind into the man’s stomach, but it wasn’t working; he wasn’t flush enough, and he couldn’t get a good angle if he wanted those lips on his neck still.

Jack moved up a couple of inches to bite. “It’ll leave a mark!” The intern complained.

“Robby bought you these stupid fucking turtlenecks. Guess you’ll have to wear ‘em.”

Robby was content when he overheard it. That was one way to enforce Dennis wearing a long-sleeved undershirt. Maybe they would have to keep him marked up until spring.

Dennis moaned at the feeling of teeth; he couldn’t feel the pain he’s sure would be there, but his brain interpreted the sensation as an intense pleasure. He looked at the clock on the microwave. Jesus, how had it only been two minutes? He was suddenly less concerned about the possibility of a service worker seeing him in the middle of sex and more concerned with them seeing him fucked out with hickeys. He’s not sure which would be worse.

Jack noticed his futile humping and took pity. He moved the man’s pants down around his thighs and raised an eyebrow at the lack of underwear. Dennis was shameless about it, though. “Please. I want it so bad.

“You’ll get it, don’t be bossy.” Dennis could cry. Would that make Jack hurry?

Jack finally wrapped his hands around Dennis’s dick. The younger man relaxed and put his head on Jack's shoulder, thrusting into the hand that was going too slow.

Robby threw some lube on the couch. “You both are animals.” Dennis didn’t even know he’d gone somewhere to get it.

Jack said, “Ignoring that!” The kid in his lap was already far gone. The false sense of urgency must be hyping him up, interesting. He was leaking and mewling already and Jack was just loosely handling him. “Turn around.”

Dennis was borderline incoherent, “What?” The man would need to be more specific.

“Get up, sit exactly like this on my lap, but just face away.”

“Like reverse cowgirl?”

“Yeah.” Dennis stood up and tried to shimmy off his sweatpants until Jack stopped him. The older man had an idea. “Keep ‘em on.” The intern was so past the point of arguing. He was about to get something up his ass, even if it was just fingers. Besides, they had no time.

Dennis arranged his knees around Jack's, the veteran was in heaven. He had a lap full of a young guy's muscular ass and Chinese food on the way. Twenty-year-old him would’ve never believed this.

“I-Can I touch myself?” Dennis stuttered out.

“Sure, doll.” Jack was squeezing his cheeks now, it occurred to Dennis that this was the first time the other man was going to see him like this. Jack put some lube on his fingers, gave the other man the bottle for himself, and slid the middle one in slowly. Dennis breathed out as it entered. “Can’t believe you were sitting over there with your hole all loose and wet.”

He started fucking into him with the one finger, letting him adjust. Dennis leaned forward a bit, put his hand on Jack's knee, and arched his back a little. Jack swore under his breath and slipped in another finger.

Jack's hands weren’t big like Robby’s; his fingers felt a lot like Dennis’s. But the smell of him, the hand around his hip, the knowledge that Robby was listening to all of this. It heightened all of the sensations.

When Jack felt he was ready, he added another finger. Dennis focused on relaxing and he was doing well until Jack found those nerves inside of him. He yelped when it happened and went to cover his mouth before he remembered they didn’t like that last time. He also needed to keep his hand jerking himself off, or he might explode. He resolved to try to stay quiet. It was humiliating how vocal these men made him.

The pace sped up, Dennis was sure their end time was encroaching. He was breathing heavily.

Jack was a student of anatomy, and he liked making people feel good. Of course, he was hitting it right. He was proud of it too. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“So good.” His words were short, like they were punched out of him.

“More.”

“Uhhh-fuck.” He was going harder and put in a third. “You-um. Jesus Christ! I can’t, I’m sorry.” Dennis’s own hand was speeding up.

“Ah. You’ll get punished for that later.”

Dennis didn’t care right now. What would he do? Fuck him hard? Make him watch while he and Robby mess around without him? Tease him at work?

It was all so intense, he felt like he should’ve come ages ago, but the pleasure just kept increasing. Then Jack kept his fingers inside, just wiggling them against his prostate like a massage. Dennis felt himself have a slow, overwhelming orgasm. He stopped stroking himself through it because he needed the other hand to brace against Jack's knee from how boneless he felt, but the stimulation kept going, and Jack kept going until he was just leaking. Jack grabbed his waist tight to keep him upright, then pulled him back until Dennis sat his ass down on his lap. Thank god for young knees being flexible enough for this shit.

Dennis looked down, and he had come all over his hands and Jack's pants. He could only wince about it, not capable of taking action yet. Jack pulled his fingers out when Dennis was done clenching around them and the man shivered.

Jack took the tissues on the end table and bent Dennis’s arm back enough to wipe his hand after wiping his own.

Dennis had barely come back to earth when the doorbell rang. Jack slipped his pants back up for him and spoke over his shoulder to Robby, “You got the cash out?”

“Yeah, I have some.”

“Good, give it to Dennis, he’ll answer the door.” Dennis was shocked. His mind was still moving at a snail's pace. He didn’t even have his dick back in his pants for more than a minute. “He didn’t want to talk to me when I asked, so now he can talk to the driver.”

Robby walked over and hesitantly gave Dennis the folded money. “Color, baby?”

The younger man wasn’t uncomfortable with the idea, not in that way at least. He certainly didn’t want to embarrass himself, but he wasn’t nervous or anything. “Green. I don’t have come on me or anything, right?”

Robby looked him over and deemed the only indicator of him being freshly fucked the hickey and the wild hair, which wasn’t too crazy.

Jack held his waist and Robby held his hands as he got up and staggered over to the door. Jack asked, “That has a tip, right?”

Robby rolled his eyes, “Who do you think I am?”

Dennis hesitantly unlocked the door with his weak feeling hands. He still had lube in him. This was a way worse punishment than he could’ve ever thought of.

“Order for Robby.” The man was looking at his neck. What did Jack do to him?

“Yeah.” Was that the right thing to say?

The man seemed awkward now. “Uh. It’s $52.50.” Dennis handed over the three twenties and one ten Robby gave him, hoping they weren’t expecting change. He needed to stop talking to this man, who was probably severely judging him.

“Thank you.” He said meekly.

“No problem.”

Dennis shut the door, hugged the warm bag to his chest, and walked to the kitchen while avoiding eye contact. It went about as well as it could.

Jack came over and grabbed a plate before opening the bag and serving himself some chicken, noodles, and an egg roll. Dennis couldn’t believe Robby got so much food for three people.

Jack took a bite of the too-hot fried food while leaning over his plate on the counter and said, “You blowing me after dinner or what?”

Robby was getting forks from the drawer and said, “Jesus fucking Christ. Dennis, do not humour him."

Jack replied, “I don’t find blow jobs very funny. You can’t tell many jokes with your mouth full.”

Dennis liked giving, though, especially when it was reciprocating. “Can I please, Robby?” He sounded so hopeful.

“You guys suck.”

“Only Dennis is sucking tonight. I just fingered him.” Robby slammed the drawer. Dennis was going to hell.

Robby was walking Whitaker out of a room he called him into for a consult when he asked, “What are you doing Thursday?”

Dennis lit up. This was the first Thanksgiving he was having in Pittsburgh that wasn’t spent alone or at a soup kitchen. “The girls and I are doing Orphan Thanksgiving! After our shift at, like, midnight, obviously.”

Robby raised his brows, “Don’t people call that ‘Friendsgiving’ these days?”

The intern shrugged a little while noting the dosage and medication on the chart, “Trinity insists we aren’t friends and, well, Mel is an actual orphan, so the name just stuck.”

“Besides Dr. King, none of you wanted to go home?” His day shift residents didn’t even attempt any leave requests for the holiday, which concerned him.

“Well, Trinity hates the aunt that hosts it, Samira’s mom is in the Maldives with her new husband and didn’t even tell her she was going, and my family’s a fucking nightmare so…” Dennis just kept charting like that wasn’t the most he’d told Robby about his family since they’d bought him that coat he walked in wearing this morning.

It wasn’t even particularly revealing; it made Michael want to know more. But he couldn’t exactly ask, ‘Why are you the way you are?’ as Dennis’s boss at their place of work. He couldn’t even ask that as Dennis’s kinda-boyfriend when they were at home. The boy was painfully adept at obfuscation and touchy around this subject. They got to the counter at the nurses' station and kept a respectable distance for two people who wanted each other so badly.

No one was around. Myrna wasn’t parked close. Michael ensured they were far away from anyone else when he quietly said. “Let me send you some money for the food.”

“That’s crazy.” Dennis didn’t even dignify the request by looking up.

“Go to the fancy store and get nice cheese and shit. On me.”

The intern shook his head and looked up at last. When did Michael start feeling like he craved eye contact with him? From the beginning, if he was honest. “Absolutely not. You’re not buying our Thanksgiving food.”

“I recall a contract with a rule-“

“Jesus, if you’re pulling that out, then fine. I’ll let you buy your residents Thanksgiving.”

Michael wanted to say, ‘I couldn’t care less about those other people,’ but he said, “Promise me you’ll go to Whole Foods and get the organic turkey.”

Dennis scoffed, “I’d have to get it tonight for it to thaw in time and the store closes at eight. I’m not going to be the asshole picking out a turkey fifteen minutes before the store closes. Or getting salmonella.”

“I’ll let you and Trinity head off thirty minutes early and clock out for you.” He was desperate at this point. Why was the intern so stubborn about shit like this?

“You’d commit time theft for me. How bad boy of you.” He had a flirty tone. He couldn’t help that the whole ‘sugar daddy boss’ thing turned him on, no matter how hard he tried to resist it.

“I ride a motorcycle and everything.” Dennis rolled his eyes and went back to charting. He hated that stupid bike.

“What are you and Dr. Abbot doing?” Michael almost forgot that Dennis had to call Jack that at the hospital. It sounded absurd.

Michael rocked back and forth while holding the station’s counter, “We both work that day, so we’re going to do it all Friday, probably FaceTime Jack’s sister and check in on the nieces.”

“That sounds nice.”

“You could come.” Michael winced a little at the automatic invitation, how hopeful he sounded. He wanted to spend the day with him, cook a meal, maybe get a little wine drunk, but that was serious relationship shit. He didn’t even ask Jack about it.

Dennis’s hand stilled, pen no longer on paper. “Um, I’m Ok. Trinity and I are going to get a Christmas tree that day, so…” Who invited their no strings attached submissive to their intimate Thanksgiving? Did Michael think he was that lonely? He kept writing.

Michael relaxed at the easy denial. He was doing something that day anyway, couldn’t come if he wanted to.

“Me, you, and Jack all have Monday off.”

Dennis, not understanding what he was getting at, said, “Thank god, I hate that new day shift attending.” I also hate working on days you're not here, his traitorous mind supplied.

Michael huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “No. I’m saying,” he leaned his head closer, “We all have the same day off.”

Dennis's heart skipped a beat and his eyes flew from the page to his attending at the tone. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, whoever made the schedule couldn’t have planned it better.”

Dennis looked at his lips like he wanted to kiss him. “Please?” He nearly begged.

“Don’t get like that at work, baby. You’ll kill someone,” he admonished. You’ll kill me with my weak heart, Michael thought.

Dennis cleared his throat and tried to get back in his work mindset when Robby pushed off from the counter and walked away.

Orphan Thanksgiving was only a minor disaster.

Mel was sad because her sister ended up wanting to stay at her facility and eat the sensory-friendly Thanksgiving they offered there. Samira came empty-handed except for a can of cranberry sauce because her sweet potatoes exploded, somehow.

The turkey was a little dry, and their oven was too small. He splashed the hot liquid he was using to baste on his hand and didn’t notice until he felt how greasy he was. His skin was a little raised and red, but not concerning, at least not to him. His mashed potatoes were really good, and the stuffing was from a box, so he couldn’t fuck that up. Trinity made Lumpia and they were gone before everything else.

It was all normal Thanksgiving tragedies until Samira mentioned how good the charcuterie was.

Trinity replied without thinking, “You can thank Dennis’s sugar daddy for that!”

Samira, a couple of drinks deep, was aghast, “Dennis, tell me she’s joking.”

“She’s joking!” His tone was unconvincing to say the least. Too defensive and boyish.

Samira frowned, “You’re such a bad liar. I can’t believe you have a sugar daddy.” She looked at the turkey like it was sullied now.

Dennis glared at Trinity. This was all her fault. “Sorry, dude, I’m a little drunk, and I forgot not everyone knows about your sugar daddies.”

Samira squawked, “Plural?”

“They, like, give Huckleberry money because they think he’s hot and bad at taking care of himself.”

“Is that not prostitution?” Mel asked as politely as she could.

Dennis bristled, “I’m not a whore.”

Trinity tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Chill, Dennis. Don’t be mean to Melly.”

“Sorry. I-I don't wanna be rude. I'm just-I like my situation, and I give them things too. I didn’t even want it to be a money thing, but they literally forced me to accept it.”

Of course, Samira latched onto that word in the answer, “Forced? How did they force you?”

Trinity cackled and said, “Oh my God, they make him do crazy shit. Like he has to wear gloves now.”

“I really don’t want to get into this. I would’ve never told anyone if Trinity didn’t have loose lips after four drinks.”

“Who’s calling who a whore now?”

“Not those lips,” Dennis took a drink, trying to forget this whole conversation, not being able to resist adding, “you’re pretty easy when you're drunk, though.” Trinity hit him, and it reminded him of his brothers before they started really hating him.

Samira’s face turned earnest and her eyes got big, “Just…be careful, Ok. That sounds complicated.”

Dennis already knew that. Half in love with two married men was way past being careful and made complicated feel like an understatement. They’d have to sedate him at the end of this. “Can I have a roll, please?” Butter would fix it.

Robby and him shared a shift on Saturday. They caught a moment together in the break room when the older man was getting more coffee and the intern was filling up his water bottle. Dennis said, “See, I go on the breaks without you telling me to now. I told you I do that."

Michael felt a chill at rewiring the kid's brain. He goes through the day thinking about his rules and the ways to make him proud.

“I know, you're doing good.” You’re such a good boy for me. As the attending was opening his to-go mug, he asked, “How was your Friendsgiving?” The orphan thing was too sad for him to think about for long.

“Trinity let it slip that my sugar daddy paid for it, so that was fun.” His voice was flat and sarcastic.

Just that word falling out of his mouth put Robby on edge. He somehow maintained rational thought and asked, “Wait, do they know about us now?”

“Santos has known since the beginning.” Robby assumed. They were like twin sisters who just had to wear the same outfits and have the same class schedule. Robby felt it was miraculous Dennis hadn’t brought her along with noise-cancelling headphones every time he came over, “But King and Mohan don’t. I kept it vague.”

“How did they react?” He poured the last of the coffee into his cup. Dammit, he’d have to make more or someone would yell at him.

Dennis took a sip of water. Michael watched his lips wrap around the thing he bought and it made him feel kinda crazy for being jealous of a water bottle. The kid swallowed in that showy way he couldn’t help. Or maybe Michael was just fixated on his throat and it was how everybody ever had swallowed. “I think Mel thinks I’m, like, whoring myself out.”

“Do you feel like you are?” He questioned cautiously, hoping his friends didn’t get in his head. He already struggled to accept anything from them. They’d had to set a quota for how often he had to Doordash for Christ’s sake. And pay for Santos’s. But at least he was only cooking a couple of times a week now.

Dennis tried to parse through his feelings on it. It wasn’t like they were giving him money in exchange for anything. It all seemed freely given, not like something they would hold over his head later for a blowjob or a fuck. He knew what that felt like, being kept by someone that way. This wasn’t that. “No…I feel taken care of, sure. But I think this is more than you buying me shit, right?” You like me, right? As much as someone can like someone who means nothing to them?

“Of course it is!” The attending insisted. “We really shouldn’t talk about this here.”

“You’re right.” Dennis looked to the side.

“Monday?” The intern nodded at Michael's suggestion and took another sip. “Are those burns?” Dennis was caught. “You need to bandage them! You know about infection risks in a hospital setting!”

“I-uh-Oh! I have labs coming in.”

McKay walked in. She beelined to the coffee maker and when she saw the empty pot, she sighed, “Really, Robby? Again?”

Dennis slipped out and threw over his shoulder, “Good talk, Dr. Robinavitch!”

They didn’t talk about it on Monday. They got distracted by…other things.

Dennis usually didn’t wear anything besides t-shirts underneath that stupid coat. They were the cheapest tops he could get and he could buy them in packs. Trinity said his wardrobe made her sad and dragged him to thrift stores a decent amount. When he saw the red Cornhuskers sweatshirt, he felt nostalgic. What was it doing here, states away, tucked between Steelers and Pirates merchandise? Dennis took it home.

It was multiple sizes too big. You could see his collarbones, and the sleeves obscured his hands. He slept in it the night before and just kept wearing it into the afternoon. When he got the text that Jack was awake, he cleaned himself and put it right back on. It didn’t smell or anything and he wanted the comfort. They were overprotective and made him order an Uber.

When Michael opened the door, he wanted to swaddle him in bubble wrap and never let him leave. Would Dennis be willing to quit his residency if they paid him a salary? It was a crazy, unrealistic thought, but he was halfway running the numbers in his head. How did this precious thing fall in their laps?

Jack wanted to ruin him. He had no right to come into his house looking that cute and rumpled.

Dennis was wringing his fingers and kept having to push back the sleeves. Michael flashed back to that time he wore his hoodie and got a wicked idea about fucking him while wearing that jacket he’s had for a decade. Dennis couldn’t even drink when he’d gotten that from a brewery.

They did standard greetings. Dennis was anxious with anticipation. He got his own water, he knew where they put all their shit now, could probably cook something in their nice, big kitchen. They’d let him, too, if he asked. He wouldn’t know how to bring it up, though.

Jack came behind him when he was taking a sip by the island and slid a hand up his back under the sweatshirt, “You know you didn’t have to wear the sluttiest thing possible to get us to fuck you, right? We were going to do it either way.”

Dennis swallowed the water wrong and it made him cough. Jack patted his back to help get the liquid out of his airway. He haggardly replied, “This? Slutty?” He looked at Jack questioningly.

Michael was pretending to fold laundry and pointedly not thinking or looking. He needed to settle himself down, this was ridiculous.

Jack was feeling up his back, there was muscle from his laborious childhood he must’ve had, a couple of scars he wanted to know about, and Jack’s favorite, slightly raised moles. Mysteries to be solved about falls and times in the sun. “Doll, you look like little red riding hood, and I feel like the big bad wolf.”

“What does that even mean?”

Jack made his voice sound growly, “It means you look almost edible.”

“This is the weirdest foreplay ever.”

Michael gave up folding the fitted sheet and finally let himself face Dennis again, “We’ve definitely had weirder. Like in the last two weeks, we’ve had weirder.”

“What do you guys do when I’m not here?” He wasn’t even jealous; he just wanted to know. It filled his mind at inopportune times. Who bottomed more? Were they vanilla without him? Was it rough or loving? It was probably both. Would they let him watch, not like that first night where it was a show to rile him up, but watch them really be together? Probably not, that felt like something reserved for them only.

“Recently, we’ve been talking about you.” Jack kissed the side of his neck, just a peck.

“All good things, I hope,” he brought his chin up, hoping to get more. Jack denied him the pleasure but brought his hand down to the small of his back.

Jack didn’t kiss him there, but he talked into Dennis’s throat, which was almost more erotic. He could feel his voice buzz. “We talk about how sweet you are, how willing. How you’d let us do things we’ve always imagined.”

Dennis’s eyes rolled back when Jack licked him and then placed an open-mouthed kiss on the same place he was talking into. Michael came up to the other side of the island to watch a little closer.

“What have you been thinking of? I'm sure I’d be-“ Jack sucked on him, and he gasped mid-sentence but by brute strength remembered what he was talking about, “-be amenable.”

Jack’s dark eyes met his husband, calculating something. “Really? You’d call Michael ‘Daddy?’ He’s been bringing it up a lot.”

Michael took an audible inhale and started blushing, “Jack! You-you weren’t supposed to talk about that!” He was going to wait. It was probably fucked up when he could very well have a child Dennis’s age.

Dennis got goosebumps. Jack could feel them. He read that right, he guessed. He brought a hand around and squeezed Dennis’s crotch lightly, feeling if he was hard. “That turn you on? Robby being your Daddy?”

Dennis hung his head and sucked in air, “Yes-Yeah, I’d do that.”

“That wasn’t my question, sweetheart. Be honest.”

“It does.”

Michael could barely trust his ears. He needed to hear the full thought. “Does what?

“Turn me on. I wanna call you Daddy.”

Michael rested his elbows on the counter and scratched his beard. He took a couple of measured breaths, not letting himself get too excited. They were really doing this. Jack really put him in this situation.

The veteran was still rubbing Dennis through his pants. It made him feel weak and small. He couldn’t even look Michael in the eyes, he looked at the man’s hands, which was actually a terrible thing to focus on when he felt like this.

Michael said, “Bedroom. Now.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Jack nudged Dennis to walk first. He and Michael followed.

Dennis lingered in the doorway until one of them pushed him forward. He’d only been in here once, and it was to sleep.

Dennis sat on their bed while they both stood and looked down at him. Michael, of course, insisted, “We oughtta talk about this before we do anything.” The other two groaned. “Whatever! We can’t just jump into a threesome with two guys penetrating you and not lay out what’s going to happen. Especially if you’re going to call me Daddy and most likely go into subspace.”

Jack sat down beside the younger man. “I hate it when he’s right.” He tried to sound casual as he said, “Besides, this part is not as easy with my situation.’

Dennis gave him a reassuring look, and the insecurity he felt lessened. He’d more than proven he didn’t mind.

Michael looked fondly between them, not expecting how sweet they would be to each other. He expected Jack to keep his bravado, he thought he would pretend none of it mattered to him. Jack was good at acting like he’d moved on, but something about Dennis demanded honesty, demanded earnestness. It was always met in kind, too.

Jack asked, “How do you want it, sweetheart?”

“I-um-I want to have you both. Not at the same time!” He was experienced, but he couldn’t do that. “Like one after the other.”

Michael looked down at him, amused, “Do you know who you want first? How?”

Dennis shook his head, “I don’t wanna decide.” He felt a flare of nerves come up when faced with the question. He couldn’t be the one deciding.

Jack was taking off his pants. “You want Daddy to tell you what to do?”

“Uh huh.” Dennis’s eye flicked between them.

“You really want to have us both tonight?” Jack talked through releasing the suction on his socket, knowing if he stayed in character, he would think about it less, “Well, I’m not your Daddy, but how about Michael fucks you till you feel dumb and then you ride me until you finish?” He took off his leg and the liner.

Dennis was looking at his face when he looked back, and it made him feel butterflies as crazy as that was. “That sounds good.” He already sounded out of it.

And Dennis was. He’d built this up in his mind, and Jack touched him in the kitchen, and Michael was standing above him, and he knew it was dumb, but he felt so safe in this bedroom that wasn’t his. It had nice lighting and cotton blankets and it was this green color that reminded him of fields right before all the grass dried out for fall.

He felt like he could just give up, trust them to tell him what to do. That it would be reasonable and he could fulfill their wishes, and even when he failed, they would be kind, the punishment proportionate. It was like being able to trust the government or your family the way you were supposed to, a safety net he should’ve had all his life, probably, but he’d slipped through all the other ones just to end up here in theirs.

He’d been tied up in a million other nets and none of them had quite gotten him like this. No one else had gotten him like this.

Jack took off his shirt. All that skin made it occur to Dennis that this was the most naked he’d seen the man this whole time. Had they never all been naked together? Dennis looked up at Michael through his eyelashes and asked, “You too?”

And shit, those big eyes were imploring him to take off his clothes. He put aside any thoughts he had about his aging body next to Dennis’s tight, smooth one and started stripping out of his hoodie, then his shirt, then his pants, and finally his underwear and socks. There was no sexy way to take off socks, but Dennis didn’t care. He felt like he was watching burlesque.

It was a role reversal from their first time. They’d made him take off his clothes, and they stayed perfectly presentable until the end. Somehow, they still held all of the power. Probably because the sight of their bodies made him forget anything he’d ever learned.

He couldn’t tell you about the Krebs cycle or the Lord's prayer. He probably couldn’t remember his Social Security number, even though he’d had to write it a million times for FAFSA. He only knew that he wanted these two men, and he would do anything to please them.

Jack pushed his chest down until he was lying on his back with his socked feet still hanging off the bed. Jack lay on his side by him. That easy smirk Dennis could never get used to came onto his face. “Doll, if you come with Michael, you’re still gonna have to ride me, even if you’re sensitive. You don’t want me to get jealous, do you?” Dennis moved his head no.

Michael stepped closer and spread the younger man’s legs, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off with his boxers for him. Dennis went to sit up just enough to take off his sweatshirt, but Jack held him down. Michael said, “Keep it on for now, you look cozy.” You look fuckable, vulnerable, like we walked in on you getting ready for bed because you let us be close like that, went unsaid. Dennis just thought they liked the look of it.

Jack kissed his cheek, a brush really, and he felt his eyes close. He wasn’t watching when Jack finally kissed him on the lips. Dennis opened his mouth for him, and Jack slithered in.

Michael started kissing at his thighs when he was wrapped up in Jack. The beard was a presence. The teeth more so after he was tender for a while. He found a place and sucked and sucked. He was sure to bruise. Then he found another place and repeated it there. And another. Michael wanted the next time he changed scrubs to be a show. He wanted the whole floor to know Whitaker was taken, even if they couldn’t know by whom. He wanted Flores, and Jesse, and Mateo, and everyone else who was just a little too chummy with their boy to know someone was out there giving it to him good.

When Michael was satisfied with the broken blood vessels, he went back and kissed all of them, sweeter this time, a small apology for being such a possessive asshole that he wanted to mark this boy up.

And Dennis shouldn’t love someone kissing bruises better that much, especially ones they caused. It was juvenile and completely medically unsubstantiated. But no one did that for him. No one cared when he was black and blue, not until this city with its stupid traffic and terrible smells.

When Jack pulled back from his lips and Michael pulled back from his thighs, his thoughts were thick and syrupy. He felt like a sunset, the light in his brain was slowly going down. All orange and pink and familiar. The coolness and the moon were coming any moment, a reprieve.

Dennis loved sunsets. He liked stars more. They weren’t as bright here in the city, but these men had him seeing them. He kept his eyes closed, knowing they would stay and treat him well. A lifetime of vigilance, months of sleeping with his pocketknife under a makeshift pillow, undone for an evening.

The two men would think he was asleep if his breath wasn’t hitching every so often and he wasn’t obviously aroused. He had just surrendered. They looked at each other, thinking, ‘Oh shit, already?’

“Hey, baby, open your eyes, come back a little.”

He sprang his unfocused eyes open and looked at Michael. “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna stretch you, and then we’ll get to it.” He pitched up his voice at the end like it was a question. He didn’t expect an answer, especially not when Dennis had that faint smile, slow blinking up at him.

Jack rucked up his sweatshirt and had wandering hands. Squeezing and rubbing. They started kissing lazily again, and Jack could feel brain cells leaving the kid. Is it even safe to be this guardless? Did Dennis get like this around people who would hurt him ever? He didn’t continue the line of thought.

Michael leaned over him, put a knee on the bed, and brought a lubed finger up to his hole and Dennis jumped a little, truly honed in on Jack's mouth and pawing. Michael was met with little resistance. At least the kid was relaxed.

Dennis started moaning into Jack's mouth loud enough for him to feel the resonance in his teeth.

Before all of this, Dennis used to try to tune out all of the sounds. The wet noises of lips and slaps of skin made him cringe. He didn’t care about that anymore.

Michael slipped a second finger in, spreading them and curling every couple of seconds. Dennis tried to close his thighs on instinct and but he was kept spread.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you now. Remember our deal?” Michael shivered at the title.

Jack pulled back so Dennis could listen, trying to read his face for any type of comprehension. “He asked you a question.”

Dennis called back his words in his mind. He could talk if they wanted him to. He’d do anything. “Um-yeah. I-I’ll do whatever. Just please…”

“Aw, doll, you’re already like this. What’re you gonna do when you actually have a dick inside you?”

The younger man blushed. It went down below that sweatshirt he was wearing which was still pushed up above his nipples, almost tucked under his chin. “Don’t be mean.” He honest to God pouted. Both men laughed, and they felt a little evil.

Michael yanked Dennis so his ass was at the edge of the bed and held his legs at the calves. He knew he could throw him around, but damn.

Jack readjusted to be closer to the headboard, wanting a full view. Sweet Dennis put out a searching hand above his head and it found Jack's ankle. Jack’s mouth quirked up when he was grabbed.

Michael tapped his calf to get his attention. “Condom? We’re both clean.”

“None is fine.”

“Ok.” When he topped Jack, the couple of times a year it ended up working out, Jack liked a condom. He didn’t like dealing with the mess and the feeling of it afterwards. He hadn’t gone raw into someone in years. “Sit up.”

Dennis got on his elbows, still leaned back, and Michael helped him out of his sweatshirt. The feeling of the comforter on his full naked back was like a completion.

One day, Michael would fuck him from behind, memorize the moles on his back and hold him down by the neck. Today, he was going to fuck him face up and catalogue all of the faces he made when he was in the throes of pleasure. Michael was old enough to know that they had time.

He lubed himself up, wanting no bad friction, then started pushing into the younger man. Dennis made a noise like the wind got knocked out of him and clutched at Jack's ankle harder. Michael was big but so gentle. The Holy Spirit filled him.

Inch by sacred inch, they intertwined. Dennis couldn’t get a full breath in. He would inhale, and it would feel like his diaphragm was still full. He was gasping until Michael was fully seated into him and said, “Shit, baby. Try to breathe.”

And Dennis could listen. He could make his body do that if one of these men asked. He took a full breath and focused on doing that. He gradually relaxed again.

Michael started slowly, just getting used to it, but he couldn’t stay slow and sweet forever. Not when Dennis’s other hand was scrambling on the bed for a handhold and he was having little uh uh uh's punched out of him. He was only a man, after all.

He picked up the pace after he held off as long as he could. Dennis was closing his eyes and moving his head back enough to show his neck.

He felt so good. So held. So owned but like he wanted to be. And when he could keep his eyes open, Jack was looking at him, and they were all having these silent conversations with just glances because they knew each other.

His breath was hitching, and he was letting out involuntary noises that would’ve embarrassed him with other people, but he just knew in his heart it was what they wanted. They wanted unfiltered, unadulterated him. Not this pretend timid little country boy, not this promiscuous flirty version that really only existed when guys seemed like they were expecting it. Just him. And he felt good.

Michael was usually quiet for this part, his brain typically pretty empty, which was welcomed. But Dennis had a way of filling up his mind with scenarios and possessive thoughts that demanded to be let out.

Michael leaned down to be over him more and was almost folding him in half. “You’ve never been fucked like this before, have you?” Please tell me I’m the first to make you feel like this. I think I’d have to hunt down whoever else did.

“No, daddy.” He almost sounded tearful in his insistence. The man’s Magen David was hitting his face.

“You’ve never been taken care of like this?” Dennis made a negative noise in answer, not being able to really vocalize. Finally able to reach him more, he was scratching at his back, and Dennis didn’t even know people really did that. When Michael felt him wiggling in this urgent way, he said, “Don’t come yet, baby. Or it’ll be hard to ride Jacky.”

“I’m-I can’t.” It was building up. Dennis wasn’t even worried about that when this all started. He just thought he wouldn’t touch his dick and it would be fine. But he felt it coming in a way it never had and didn't know what to do.

“You will.”

“I really can’t.” He whimpered. “Don’t wanna be bad but…”

Michael soothed, “It’s ok, you’ll still be good.” He kissed the side of his head, “You’ll just have to do it with Jack.” He sounded breathless from the exercise of fucking him.

The reassurance put him over the edge because he was fucked up and damaged. He felt like his brain was being fried. Like he was taking LSD and having a therapy session. Like he was being cognitively and physically rewired.

He’d never come untouched before, never felt that feeling like he was getting a balloon blown up in his chest. It was overwhelming.

Jack chimed in, “Damn, sweetheart. Really? Just from that?” Dennis couldn’t decide if it was teasing or if it was amazement. Maybe both? Either was fine.

Michael groaned and kept going, chasing his own high. The fact that he caused enough pleasure in him to have a prostate orgasm, the little whimpers, the way Dennis said, “I want it. Please?” And he was done.

Sweat dropped down from Michael’s nose onto Dennis’s chest. Neither cared, taking a moment. Michael leaned back to fully stand and extricated himself from the man.

Jack said, “Wait, his pain thing. Is he torn or anything?”

Michael was terrible for forgetting. Dennis wouldn’t be able to stop him if he were ever too rough. He checked, “No, it’s fine. Just realized you’re gonna fuck my come into him.”

“What’s that expression about horses, doll?” He directed the sentence towards Dennis. Jack couldn’t resist a joke.

“I don’t even know.” He didn’t know anything outside of this room. He knew about horses? Apparently.

Jack adjusted a pillow behind his back, “I think it goes, ‘Rode hard and put up wet.’” When he was sat up just right, he patted his thighs, “Come ride, sweetheart, you know the deal.”

Dennis ran a hand through the sweat on his hairline, wondering how he was going to coordinate his body at all. But Jack was asking for it, so surely he could.

He really did look like a colt taking its first steps when he crawled up the bed into Jack’s lap, shaky, one limb in front of another. Going towards the one thing in life he really needed.

He sat on his place on Jack’s thighs. And put his forehead at the junction between Jack’s shoulder and neck, feeling the man’s dog tag chain digging into the skin on his face. The man put his arms around Dennis and brought them flush to each other, “You don't really gotta do it if you're tired.”

“No, ‘m fine. Just wanna…” Just wanna hug you? Smell you? Push my dick that’s somehow hard into your stomach for a second, even though it kinda aches? Steal a moment before taking a ride with the devil?

He put a hand on the back of the smaller man’s head, “That’s Ok. Take your time.” Michael came up and lay next to Jack, snuggling into his side, knee pressed to Dennis’s folded-up leg. When Dennis was rhymically grinding into him, he knew it was time and took his hand from the man's crown and brought it to his waist. “You ready?”

“Uh huh.”

“Jesus, baby,” Michael said, almost disbelievingly, at the fucked out expression when Dennis sat back. His pupils were the size of dinner plates and his lips were bitten and big. His thighs were already bruising. “You gonna fuck Jacky now?” Michael lubed up his husband.

“Yeah.”

Jack lined himself up, and Dennis sat all at once with a whimper. “Shit, sweetheart,” he said at the sudden engulfment.

The veteran held his waist between both hands as he went up and down. Dennis put one hand on Jack's chest and another hand on Michael’s. His legs were tired feeling but he kept going; it’s not like he would feel the burn. “So good, Jacky. So good.” He was so sensitive that he was tearing up.

Jack thrust up into him using that core strength he always trained. He was so warm and wet, it almost felt like fucking a girl. “Yeah, how good?”

“Like ‘m gonna cry or something stupid.”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He thrusted up particularly roughly and Dennis whined. “Daddy, why don’t you get a hand on your baby?” The unspoken, speed this up because I’m almost finished, was obvious between the two.

Michael only had a handle on him for a couple of minutes before he said, “It’s gonna happen.” He almost groaned, not wanting it to. He couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want it to end or if it was because the pleasure was bordering on what he imagined was pain. He had no coping skills for the way his nerves felt overwhelmed.

“Me too, doll.” His thrusts up were getting more desperate; he was trying to keep a smooth tempo, but he was quickly finding himself becoming selfish. Dennis was getting limp and collapsing onto him while still trying to go up and down. Michael was thankfully cognizant of whatever tempo there used to be.

And then Dennis just stopped moving. Jack wouldn’t have known what happened if Dennis hadn’t let out a high-pitched keen and Michael hadn’t slowed down his hand. Jack made it a couple more thrusts before coming himself.

They all just huffed and puffed for a while. Dennis had gone boneless.

Was that really what it was like? He thought it would be dirty and demeaning in that way he hated that he liked. But this…

It was terrible that he finally understood what love felt like. The thing that could cover his multitude of sins that he just kept tallying up. It was terrible that these were the men who taught him when they would never feel that way for him. It was worse that he had every intention of coming back until they told him not to.