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“You have got to be kidding me,” Frank says the second the lights go out.
Dennis takes tight hold of the railing along the wall, the elevator shuddering to an unexpected halt. In the darkness and stillness, there’s a brief moment of complete silence where everything is black and quiet and, in a way, it’s as if the rest of the world has dropped away entirely.
Then, the back-up lights come on, giving the elevator interior a dim blue glow. Dennis blinks into it, his eyes rapidly readjusting from the fluorescents to the darkness and now to the dull faint blue. Frank is still near the buttons, where he had been when they left the ground floor to head upstairs to Obstetrics in the first place. Now, though, instead of leaning against the wall and shamelessly flirting with Dennis, he’s crouching in front of the buttons with a scrunched frown.
“Stupid thing,” Frank grumbles to himself. He hits the Door Open button several times rapidly in a row as Dennis watches, blinking, clutching his clipboard to his chest. “This whole place is held together with bubble gum and tape. It’s ridiculous. We’re a hospital, what if we had a patient in here with us?”
“Good thing we don’t,” Dennis pipes up.
Frank glances back towards him. In the blue light coming up from the floor, his face is cast in all sorts of hard shadows, the angular lines of him striking in this shading, the blue of his eyes glowing unnaturally brighter. Just the sight of him like this makes Dennis’s heart turn over sideways, thumping hard again like it had been when Frank had been flirting with him— like it does every time Frank flirts with him at work, the push-and-pull they have that makes Dennis wonder if Frank really wants their relationship to still be a secret. If he did— Well, he probably wouldn’t be pushing at him all the time, would he?
“Yeah,” Frank replies, unfurling back up to his full height. “Good thing.”
His hands come up again, not to the buttons, but to Dennis instead. The distance between them is negligible; Frank crosses it in a split second, pulling the clipboard from Dennis’s hands, letting it fall to the floor beside them.
“Shouldn’t we hit the Emergency button?” Dennis asks.
“What for?” Frank asks in answer. “It’ll take forever whether I hit it now or I hit it in ten minutes.”
Dennis allows him to box him in against the wall, trapping him in the corner of the elevator. While Frank has a little bit on him when it comes to his size, Dennis always knows he’s the stronger of the two of them, always knows who’s really in charge; it makes it easier— better— thrilling, even, when Frank tries to pull things like this.
“Why would you wait ten minutes?” Dennis asks, playing at innocence. “Dr. Robby asked—”
“Dr. Robby can wait,” Frank murmurs. His hands come to rest against the silver wall on either side of Dennis’s head, elbows bending towards him as he steps in closer. He smells like his own soap, the same scent on Dennis’s skin, woodsy and earthy and strong. When Dennis inhales, he swears, his head rushes. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Dennis asks, his own hands coming to Frank’s waistband, finding the thin fabric ties and unknotting them without taking his eyes off Frank above him. “You begged to eat me out this morning. That was, what—” Glancing towards Frank’s wrist right beside his eyes, tilting his head to get a better read on the digital numbers, he continues, “—five hours ago?”
“Can you blame me?” Frank’s voice is already dropping into that low, husky register he brings out when he wants Dennis to know his intentions— as if he could doubt the way Frank’s dropping his head to nose into his throat, pressing a soft kiss on the skin right where his collar exposes the flesh of his shoulder.
“We’re at work,” Dennis reminds him the moment he feels his teeth worrying at him. He’s sure Frank’s intending to leave a mark; he always does, like this. “Frank—”
“Nobody can see us,” Frank mumbles, his hands pulling in. His hips twitch forward when Dennis finishes unraveling the knot at his waist, loosening his scrub bottoms. “Tell me not to and I’ll stop.”
Dennis’s jaw snaps shut, not a sound escaping him. A rough laugh rumbles out of Frank before his hand is swinging right in to take firm hold of Dennis’s chin, holding him tight in place as he dives into a kiss with him. There’s no moment where the kiss is chaste; he parts his lips without hesitation, dragging Dennis’s open with them, his tongue gliding along his before he’s taking his head in both hands, now, and tilting his head to kiss him properly.
Sinking against him, fisting his hands in Frank’s scrub top, Dennis just hangs on tight. For the moment, he allows Frank to think he’s in charge, lets him take the lead over him.
When his hands come down to Dennis’s waistband, though, Dennis catches both wrists in his own, forces them apart. It’s not difficult to move Frank around; he keeps his hands separated, and their kiss breaks, Frank panting as he stares at him with those piercing eyes of his, blue rims now around blown black pupils, his face flushed in splotches of hectic color.
“We might only have a few minutes,” Dennis points out, pushing Frank back a stumbling step. Releasing his wrists, sinking down to his knees, Dennis tugs Frank’s scrub bottoms down with him, pooling them around his ankles. “Someone could come at any minute and open the doors.” His fingers hook in Frank’s waistband, and Frank’s hands come up again, slamming into the elevator wall, keeping himself upright as Dennis yanks his boxer-briefs down, too, his cock springing free and already half-hard. “Or restart the elevator—”
“Dennis, fuck,” Frank breathes over him, curling over him, spine bowing. One of his hands leaves the wall to thread through Dennis’s hair, holding on but not pulling yet.
Dennis pushes his head harder into Frank’s hand, tells him, “Try to stay quiet for a few minutes, okay?”
A rough nod whips out of Frank, his head bobbling up and down. Satisfied that he’ll obey for a little while, at least, Dennis refocuses on his cock in front of him, just at eye-level, the thick curved swell as he throbs harder with every second, the heavy hang of his balls, the neatly-trimmed forest of dark brown hair nestled between his thighs.
He tries not to let on too much about it, but he loves his cock. It fits perfectly in his mouth, starts nudging down his throat at just the right angle; when it’s inside him, it hits just deep enough, spreads just wide enough, and fuck, he knows how to use it, and he knows that he knows.
But Dennis loves his taste, heady and musky and woodsy with his soap; he loves the way he feels on his tongue when he drags the flat of it up from the root of his cock to the head, wrapping around it, licking at him just to get more of the hot, ridged velvet; he loves the way his head gets a little floaty when he sinks down on his cock and stays there. He just can’t get enough of him and his cock and his hands and his flirting and just— all of him, ridiculous.
Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, Dennis sits up on his knees, drags his cock to his lips to smear along the lower one before he slips him into his mouth properly.
Overhead, Frank groans, the sound rattling around in echo around the empty elevator. His hand in Dennis’s hair flexes against his skull, fingers twitching before curling back in; he just holds his head in place, doesn’t move, and so Dennis decides to be encouraging.
Slipping forward, opening his throat, he brings Frank as deep as he can in one swallow. His mouth is full, Frank’s cock throbbing just inside his teeth, and he bumps into the back of his throat just like Dennis likes, and he sighs.
Between his own thighs, his cunt pulses. His clit aches for being neglected, and he shoves his free hand against his cunt, twitches forward into the heel, lets himself grind in small twitches there. It’s just a little bit of friction, but it’s phenomenal, makes him leak slick wetness into his own boxer-briefs, stolen from Frank’s drawer just that morning.
His feverish mind suddenly needs different— needs more. He swallows around Frank’s cock, but the saliva pooling in his mouth won’t go down, his throat blocked by Frank; he withdraws, spit spilling from the corners of his lips, but he doesn’t go far, nor does he waste anything. Instead, he leans forward and up, lets his mouth open to spill the saliva in drizzles over Frank’s cock, wetting him in obscene rolls of spit even further than his dick had been by just his mouth. This is punctuated by him lapping from the root of his cock up, making sure every inch of him is dripping and slick.
“Oh, fuck, holy shit,” Frank gasps out above him. “Den— Fuck me—”
“No, not quite,” Dennis replies, rising up to his feet in one movement, his hand coming to Frank’s cock, taking hold, stroking up and down in slow, steady rhythm to coat his whole cock in the wetness from Dennis’s mouth and the dribbles of his own precum. “How about you fuck me instead?”
Frank is staring at him, chest heaving, as Dennis lets him go, frees his hands to finally untie his own waistband and shoves his pants and boxer-briefs down past his knees. His cunt aches at being so empty right now, begging for him to just get fucked, and— really, he’s no better than Frank, because he did get eaten out to orgasm only a few hours ago and he’s still ready to go again right this second.
“Well?” Dennis asks, rubbing his clit between his index and middle fingers, sweat prickling up all over his flushed skin. “Do you want t—”
“Yes, please,” Frank insists as he surges forward, pushing Dennis up against the wall again, turning him around to face the silver gleam. Dennis takes tight hold of the railing, reaching back to grip onto Frank’s hip as he lines them up; his cockhead nudges up against Dennis’s hole, and Dennis cries out, letting his head come forward to collide with the cool metal in front of him.
Frank’s forehead meets Dennis’s back, just against his shoulder blade, and he pushes in, in, his head popping past the entrance and letting him drive himself deeper. They readjust, and Dennis sinks down, letting himself slump back against Frank until his ass is practically in his lap and he’s holding him up, both hands on Dennis’s hips now, keeping him upright and steady as he seats himself all the way in.
It’s only once he’s there that he stops, stilling for a moment, filling him all the way up, Dennis’s walls a tight, hot vise around him. He stays there for one throbbing moment, two, three, catching his breath and letting them both adjust— and then Dennis groans out a whine, pushing back and down on his cock, drawing a ragged moan up out of him.
“Move,” he instructs him, voice hard.
As told, Frank moves. He keeps his one hand held tight on Dennis’s left hip, gripping hard, keeping him in place as he pulls out just enough to fuck back in. Dennis feels it like a jolt through his whole body, lighting him up all over inside; he can only let out a whine, his head falling back, cheek dragging along Frank’s at their angle.
“That’s it,” Dennis encourages him. When Frank’s right hand snakes around him, finding his clit with a hard circling of his fingertips, Dennis gasps out again, “That’s it, that’s it, just like that—”
His own hand jerks up, grabs onto Frank’s wrist, shoves him harder against his clit. Their joined hands can just barely feel where his cock is fucking in and out of Dennis’s hole, his hips pistoning, moving as hard, as fast, as deep as he can. Dennis knows he knows he’s right, that anyone could come at any moment, and it makes another round of pulsing thrill launch itself through him.
“Anyone could see us,” spills out of his mouth, unbidden. Frank groans near his ear, ragged and low. “Guess we wouldn’t be much of a— a secret anymore, would it?”
“Jesus Christ,” Frank grunts out. “Dennis, fuck—”
“Would we?” Dennis repeats, pushing Frank’s hand harder into his clit, humping forward against his palm, his fingertips, as he rubs him hard.
“No,” Frank answers, a gasp torn out of him. “No, we wouldn’t—”
“They’d all see us like this,” Dennis continues, the words making his own chest cloud up with heat, his cunt pool with want, his heart race and his veins sing and his brain blink out. “Everyone would see you fucking me—”
“Dennis—”
“—and know you’re mine,” Dennis says, as if he hadn’t interrupted at all. It has the desired effect, the expected effect, when Frank sinks his teeth into the juncture of Dennis’s throat and shoulder just to silence the loud groan that rumbles out of him. “All mine, aren’t you?”
“Mm.” Frank’s agreement is muffled by Dennis’s flesh, his mouth still firmly attached. “Mm-hmm—”
“That’s it,” Dennis coaxes him, fucking back on his cock, twisting to press a kiss to his cheek. His own orgasm is cresting soon, he can feel it gathering, Frank’s hand moving so quick, so rough, that it’s all pulling towards that spot. “That’s it, sweetheart, come on, take it, get what you need—”
A muted whine leaks out of Frank into Dennis’s throat as he ruts into him, trying to give pleasure and take it all at the same time. His cock is getting deeper, deeper— or it seems that way to Dennis, at least, as he lets his head hang forward now, gasping sharply on each thrust into him, letting Frank take over and fuck him and stroke his clit until he’s shivering.
“Oh, fuck,” Frank mumbles into Dennis’s skin. “Oh— Fuck—”
Dennis knows exactly where he’s at, exactly what’s happening, and so he closes his eyes, mumbles, “Come on, sweetheart. Almost there, come on, give it to me, almost there—”
With his eyes shut like this, getting fucked into the elevator wall as he is, Dennis doesn’t notice the dull blue light becoming bright white again. He doesn’t hear anything past the roaring of blood in his ears, not even the whir of the elevator starting back up.
He does notice the jolt as Frank cums inside of him, pressing him flat into the wall, hitching his hips up and towards him so he can flood his cunt in pulses, still fucking in, one thrust, another, another. His hands don’t stop; he keeps dragging Dennis closer to the edge, closer, closer, until he’s tipping over, his own orgasm chasing right after Frank’s, ripping through him in waves of heat so immense he can feel them like they’re summertime, humid and all-consuming and theirs.
It’s only when he hears, “Oh, for— Langdon, what the fuck are you—”
There’s a beat, then a stifled laugh, followed by a long groan.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Dr. Robby comments, in practically the same tone Frank had had when he realized the elevator was stuck. “Whitaker?”
Dennis can feel his face burning, much like his insides are; they jerk apart, Dennis dropping to yank his pants up and rapidly gather up his clipboard again while Frank whirls away, tugging his own pants back up as fast as he can, attempting to tuck his softening dick away without flashing it to literally everyone.
When Dennis turns, it’s Dr. Robby right there in the entryway, a set of the elevator keys dangling from one hand. Dr. Abbot is right beside him, grinning like Christmas has come early this year; behind him appears to be most of the staff on call right now, Dana and Mohan and— fuck, even Santos are all looking at them.
Frank doesn’t seem capable of much more than sputtering, “I’m— Look, I—” before Dennis just clears his throat.
“Thanks for getting us out,” he tells Dr. Robby, stepping forward. As he does, everyone else steps back, and the little heat-rush-thrill inside of him surges again. “Where did you need us, again?”
Dr. Robby stares at him for a long moment before looking to Frank, over his shoulder, just past him. With a sigh, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he replies, “HR first. Obstetrics after.”
“Heard,” he says, and starts moving out of the elevator.
Sensing that Frank isn’t coming, he turns and levels him with a look. Frank’s just staring back at him, his chest still heaving, his whole face red, his clothes rumpled. He looks caught, and Dennis’s heart throbs again, deciding for his brain that this has been worth the inevitable trouble it’s about to cause.
“Are you coming?” he asks Frank, watching as he straightens and follows right out after him.
“I bet he is,” Santos murmurs, and Dennis’s head whips around, finding her eyes. She just grins at him, and he knows he’ll be hearing all about this later.
Dennis keeps his head up, moves past everyone with Frank trailing behind, and feels Frank’s cum dribbling out of him, soaking into his stolen boxer-briefs, and— for the moment— he can’t feel a single bit of regret, only a desire to do it all again.
