Chapter Text
When people said relationships can hurt, Dennis was pretty sure they didn’t mean this kind of hurt. He’d pictured emotional turmoil over arguments about who’s doing the dishes or what Netflix show to watch, not having to swallow his pride - and apparently, a bit of blood - because of what could generously be called a stupidly enthusiastic decision.
It had started fine. Great, actually. He and Michael had been dating for around six months. They ran into each other at a grocery store a few months after Dennis finished his rotation in the Pitt, chatted for too long in the middle of the cereal aisle before exchanging numbers and they were going strong.
Dennis was now back in the Pitt as an intern, still learning, but considerably improved, while Robby was still the senior attending. Working the same day shift as each other, meant barely enough time for an early-morning coffee break, stolen kisses when no one else was around, and the occasional whisper of “You’re off Thursday, right?” in the staff lounge.
Thursday night was the usual day they both had off, so it quickly became their standing date night. Robby had told Dennis that he wanted to take their relationship slow due to their age difference and power dynamic. He also needed to make sure the relationship with his underling would last, since he didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Dr. Collins.
Dennis agreed wholeheartedly. It was his first serious relationship and he previously hadn’t gone any further than sloppy kissing and frantic hand jobs behind the barn when he was a teen and in the bathroom of a club when he made it to college.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take things further, because he did, it had just been hard to find the time when he was younger, hiding his sexuality from everyone in his family, and studying to be a doctor left him with very little free time. There was also some part of him that really wanted his first time to mean something, he wanted it to be with someone who, maybe not loved, but at least cared deeply for him. Some may call him idealistic, but he never shamed anyone for what they chose to do with their body, he just thought he’d made it this long, what's a little bit more to be able to spend my first time with someone special.
Dennis had been a little embarrassed to tell Michael that he was a virgin, but it didn’t scare him off. If anything he seemed a bit excited at the prospect that could be Dennis’ first and, hopefully, only lover. Michael undoubtedly had a possessive side, which might have driven away some of his past lovers, but Dennis liked it. It made him feel secure in the fact that Michael desired him and wouldn’t abandon him. It felt like a sense of belonging.
So, their date nights typically entailed cozy dinners at an Italian restaurant, a shared dessert, and a slow walk home under the streetlights. Once they arrived back at Michael’s townhouse they would settle in for a movie, cuddled under the same blanket that had somehow survived every popcorn spill and accidental wine splash.
This Thursday, though, things had escalated.
They had just got back from dinner and were nestled together on the couch, Dennis was nearly sitting in Michael’s lap, one leg draped over Michael’s thigh, their shoulders pressed close as if the couch had suddenly shrunk in size. The movie flickered on, forgotten, while Michael absentmindedly traced circles on Dennis’ knee, his other arm was wrapped snug around Dennis’ waist, anchoring them together.
Dennis recognized that it was time to make his move. About a week ago he told Michael he was ready for more, and was too impatient for him to plan a grand romantic gesture, he wanted it now.
He tilted his head up from where it rested under Michael’s chin and began to place soft, open mouth kisses down his neck and over his collar bone, where it peaked out from the loose shirt he had changed into. Dennis fisted one hand in Michael’s shirt, the other wrapped around to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
Michael squeezed him tighter against his chest, eyes still on the movie, his only reaction was tilting his head to the side to give Dennis better access. Dennis knew he would have to make what he wanted more obvious. He began to wiggle out from Michael’s grip and rearranged himself so that he was fully seated in Michael’s lap. His own thighs were splayed wide to fit Michael between them.
“You need something, baby?” Michael said, finally turning his full attention away from the movie.
“Please.” Dennis blurted out, voice cracking at the end like he was afraid the moment might slip away if he didn’t say something now. He shifted a little closer and, oh my God, there was Michael’s dick. Sure he had felt it before in their various make-out sessions, but he had never been flush against it and it was fucking big. Even through their layer of clothes Dennis could tell it was large, like porn star level big.
Honestly, Dennis doesn’t even understand why he was surprised. At 6’1 Michael was already larger than the average guy, so everyone could probably guess that he would be hung like a horse. And, oh God, that was going to have to fit inside him.
Suddenly Dennis pulled back, a flicker of fear now mingling with his nervous excitement, sending a flutter to his stomach like he’d just stepped off a roller coaster. He looked down, afraid to meet Michael’s eyes, worried that his hesitation ruined the moment before it even really started.
Michael waited patiently for Dennis to regain his confidence, rubbing soft circles under Dennis’ shirt on his hip bones.
After taking a few deep breaths, Dennis finally looked up, the warmth in Michael’s eyes caught him off guard. That look, steady and filled with love, was all the permission he needed to whisper, “Please, Michael, I need you. Can I…” Dennis trailed off thinking his next move would make it obvious what he desired, so that he wouldn’t have to say it out loud.
Dennis clumsily slipped from his lap and dropped to his knees between Michael’s spread thighs, peering up at his boyfriend with his wide, innocent eyes.
Michael looked down at him, a bit shocked, but there was definitely a deep hunger in his gaze. Dennis felt Michael’s hand run from the start of his hairline to the crown of his head where Michael then gripped, using the leverage to tilt Dennis’ head back.
“Are you sure?” Michael practically growled out, his control hanging on by a thread.
All Dennis could say was “Please.”
Dennis shuffled forward, placing his hands at the elastic waistband of Michael’s sweatpants, waiting for permission to lower them down.
“Jesus, fuck” Michael groaned, leaning his head onto the back of the couch.
The sight of Michael losing his composure and the feel of his hair being pulled made Dennis’ dick twitch. He was already rock-hard in his sleep pants and couldn’t help letting out a soft whine. It sounded needy and embarrassing to his own ears, but Michael only gazed back down at him and said, “Fucking hell, baby, what did I do to deserve you.”
Michael leaned forward, placing his other hand on Dennis’ throat and gave a sweet kiss to the tip of Dennis’ nose, “Alright, we can do this, but only if you promise to tell me if anything doesn’t feel right, okay?”
Dennis nodded eagerly, head shaking up and down like he couldn’t say yes enough times to make Michael believe him, “I promise, please, I promise.”
With a cocky grin on his face Michael leaned back, “Good boy.”
Dennis whimpered, later he would ponder on the possibility of Michael being able to make him cum with just his words, but right now he couldn’t think of anything other than getting Michael’s dick in his mouth.
Michael lifted his hips and helped guide Dennis’ hands to push down his sweats, releasing his cock to the chilly night air. Dennis’ jaw dropped and he knelt there frozen in place, once again intimidated by the sheer length and girth of his boyfriend. It felt like there was no way that it would fit anywhere inside him, but like hell he wouldn’t die trying.
He moved to lean forward, except he was stopped by Michael’s hand against his chest, “Slow. Okay, Den? We’re gonna start slow.”
Dennis nodded again in agreement, moving forward slower as he lifted a hand toward the dick in front of him. Michael’s hand met his halfway and guided Dennis to grasp onto the base.
“There you go baby, fuck, just like that” Michael called out between soft groans as Dennis began pumping his hand up and down in a gentle rhythm. He was mesmerized watching his hand bring Michael pleasure, and listened to the sounds he was eliciting just heightened the experience. He had never felt this powerful before, being solely responsible for the pleasure of someone he loved. But he needed more, the urge to taste was too strong.
Dennis placed a soft, wet kiss to the tip of Michael’s dick, who let out a deep, guttural moan at the sight. The crease of worry between his brows finally faded away at Dennis’ initiative to advance their night further.
Using the sounds as more encouragement, Dennis pulled the rest of the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue across the tip like he had read about online. Dennis had been researching for weeks leading up to this moment. Michael must have loads of past experiences, and Dennis didn’t just want to live up to them, he wanted to surpass them all, so he had to come prepared.
Dennis kept one hand wrapped around the base, keeping Michael’s dick steady, as he hungrily licked up the shaft, running his tongue over the prominent vein there. He used his other hand to fondle Michael’s balls. They were hot and heavy, and there was something about holding them in his hand that just felt so intimate.
“Fuck baby,” Michael groaned, both his hands were clutching the edge of the couch cushion, “That’s it…Fuck Den. Just like that, baby, feels so good. You’re fucking perfect wrapped around me…Come on, baby-”
Letting out a whine, Dennis moved his mouth back to the tip, responding to Michael’s want of Dennis being wrapped around him. He started suckling, tongue massaging his slit as he savored the flavor of Michael, noting how his precum tasted different than his own. It was more bitter, but Dennis liked it.
Kneeling at Michael’s feet must be what heaven felt like, his head going slightly fuzzy as all his blood rushed to his own leaking cock that was leaving a wet spot on the front of his pajamas.
It got even better when Michael returned his hand to the top of his head, gripping on to his hair. Dennis loved it. Michael didn’t push him further onto his dick, rather he just let his hand rest there, playing with the ends of Dennis’ hair. Dennis knew Michael’s intention wasn’t to push him for more, but Dennis couldn’t help to use the hand on his skull as motivation to slip further down.
He used his lips to cover his teeth, hollowed his cheeks, and sank lower until he felt Michael at the back of his throat. Dennis gagged, which apparently Michael expected as he was quick to drag Dennis off his dick by his hair, a look of concern on his face.
“I’m okay, I promise, I’m okay” Dennis rasped out, “please I want to” He could tell the begging was affecting Michael, so he pushed harder, “Please, sir, let me suck your cock.”
Michael couldn’t resist the plea, “Fuck, baby, okay. But slow, remember? You can practise going further anytime you want.” And then he steered Dennis’ mouth back to his dick.
Dennis moaned around the tip, excited about the prospect of being able to do this again, whenever he wanted. This time when he went back down, it was like he was addicted. Sucking and slurping like his life depended on it. Spit was dripping out of the corners of his mouth, but Dennis paid it no mind as his only goal was to get more of Michael into him.
He was prepared this time when Michael’s dick hit the back of throat and he swallowed, sending it further down. He heard Michael let out another guttural moan and Dennis looked up, meeting his gaze while his mouth was stuffed with cock.
“Such a good boy, hmm? Always such a good boy for me” Michael murmured, he seemed unable to stop the flow of words in his blissed out state. He probably wasn’t even aware of half of what he was saying, “You look so fucking good Dennis, never seen a prettier sight than my cock down your throat” He gave another pull to Dennis’ hair, and Dennis couldn’t help but moan, the vibrations massaging Michael’s dick.
Dennis continued his movements up and down, each time sinking down a little lower. He wanted his nose to reach the damp curls at the base more than anything, but for now he settled with using his hand to stimulate the part of Michael he couldn’t quite reach yet.
“Fuck baby, your perfect, so fucking perfect me. Fucking hell, I’m tempted just to fuck your face right now, baby. Would you like that? Letting me take my pleasure from you.”
Dennis could have pulled off to respond, but the thought of releasing his dick seemed unfathomable, so he only nodded. That wasn’t good enough for Michael. He pulled Dennis off his cock by the hair again. Dennis tried to suction on harder, but it was no match for Michael’s strength.
Michael used his free hand to tilt Dennis' chin up, eyes meeting in a lust filled gaze, “I need words baby, you have to consent.” Michael said.
It took Dennis a second to figure out what Michael was asking. Once he did, Dennis wasted no time in begging, “Please, please, sir. I need it.”
“Say it the words Dennis, I need you to say exactly what you want.”
In his current state, cum-drunk and horny, it was almost too much of an ask for Dennis, still he managed to stammer out, “Please… fuck my throat, please sir, I need it.”
Michael let out a low chuckle, likely astounded at how perfectly submissive Dennis was being. “Alright Den, but if you need me to stop just tap on my leg and I will, okay?”
“Yes, please, yes” Dennis nodded like a bobble-head. In this moment he wanted nothing more than for Michael to take control and claim his pleasure from Dennis’ mouth.
He leaned forward a bit, opened his mouth with his tongue out and just waited for Michael to make the next move, and Michael did not disappoint. He held his thumb under Dennis’ chin and stuck his middle and pointer finger in Dennis’ mouth as far as they would go. Dennis held eye contact with Michael as he sucked and ran his tongue the fingers, wanting to prove that he was capable of handling Michael’s dick.
After a few minutes of Dennis gasping and whining around Michael’s fingers, Michael slowly started sliding them out, but didn’t let them completely leave his mouth. Instead he used the two fingers and his thumb to hold open Dennis’ mouth. Dennis watched as Michael bent forward, he thought he was about to get kissed, so was surprised when Michael stopped inches from his lips and dripped a line of spit into his mouth. Dennis moaned, shocked, yet he still eagerly swallowed it down.
Michael let out what could only be described as a growl at Dennis’ willful compliance. He removed his hand from Dennis’ face and used it to grab his dick and lightly slap it against Dennis' cheek a couple times before he rubbed the head against Dennis’ tongue, still sticking out from his open mouth, teasing him.
Finally, Michael pushed forward and started pumping his dick in and out of Dennis' mouth. Rather than continuing to moving his own hips for the motion, Michael used his grip on Dennis’ hair to move his head over the length of his cock. Dennis was a lot less of an active participant now, acting more like a hole that only existed for the pleasure of another. He knew how to stop it if need be, but he didn’t want to. He was enjoying this way more than he should.
Soon, Michael became lost in the rhythm. Completely blissed out and pushing his hips up to meet the downward motion of Dennis’ head. All the while, he was praising Dennis, telling him how good he was and how perfect his mouth was.
Dennis felt like he was floating, entirely melted into the moment. He was weightless, lost in the warmth of it all, and nothing existed except the hand tugging at his hair the heavy weight of the cock in his mouth.
He was gagging a bit, tears flowed freely down his face, and his throat started to burn a little. However, Dennis thought it was normal, after all there was a huge dick in his mouth a little pain was to be expected.
Whenever Dennis let out a sharp whine or gag, Michael would lessen his depth and slow his pace. He would also ask if Dennis was alright and Dennis would give a thumbs up, so Michael continued on.
Dennis tried to suppress his gag reflex and relax his throat to the best of his ability, but it didn’t stop the uncontrollable ‘gwock’ noise coming from him whenever Michael pushed in deep. And as gross as the sound was, Dennis loved it. Loved that it meant he was doing good, that he was taking Michael’s dick as deep as he possibly could.
He’d always suspected he’d be submissive in bed, a deep seated longing to let go of responsibility and to escape the constant self-regulation that had shaped his childhood. Surrendering that power and allowing someone else to take the lead felt like a dream. And the way he melted under Michael’s control confirmed every one of those suspicions.
Dennis was rock hard. He could feel his length pulsing against his thigh as he rearranged his hips so he was straddling Michael’s lower leg. Dennis slowly began to grind against Michael and all thoughts of discomfort fled.
“Fuck yeah, baby. That’s it, ride my leg.” Michael groans out.
Dennis is lost back into the haze of ecstasy, chasing his own orgasm as Michael used his throat. He barely recognized it when Michael’s body tenses, “Pull off baby, I’m gonna cum.” said Michael in a low gravely voice filled with passion.
He didn’t want to pull away, though, instead he looked up at Michael as he wrapped both hands around Michael’s dick and began to jerk him off as he left the tip in his mouth. Kneeling there with his mouth wide open. Michael moaned, unable to look away, as the first ribbon of his release shot across Dennis' tongue. The creamy white color was stark against the pink of his mouth. Dennis let out his own moan at the taste, holding it in his mouth to savor it.
“Fuck, C’mere baby.” Michael said as he manhandled Dennis back on to his lap. Once Dennis was in place Michael wrapped an arm around his waist and grasped under his jaw with the other.
Michael’s eyes were dark, and filled with power as he commanded, “Swallow, Dennis.”
Dennis did so with no hesitation, he felt Michael’s hand tighten a hair around his neck as his throat bobbed with the motion of swallowing.
“Good boy.” Michael stated in a breathy tone, pulling Dennis in for a kiss. It was wet and messy, Dennis' face still covered in saliva, but it was also slow and sweet, carrying all the affection and gratitude he couldn’t put into words.
Feeling Michael’s hand reach down to the waist of his pants, no doubt as to return the favor, Dennis stopped him by grabbing his wrist and broke the kiss. There had to be bright blush on his cheeks as he stammered out with a hoarse voice “Oh, uh…sorry, I, um, kinda already-”
At first Michael looked worried, but when he looked down he must have seen the large dark patch on the front of Dennis’ pants. “It’s okay, baby-” Dennis looked relieved at this, he hadn’t wanted to hear any teasing at his hair-trigger. “But next time you’ll have to ask for permission first” Michael rumbled into his ear.
Dennis let out a whimper, while Michael gave a soft chuckle. They sat there for a few minutes, Dennis nearly boneless against Michael’s chest, while Michael rubbed up and down Dennis’ back and through his hair.
Eventually, Michael leaned over to grab the remote and turn off the TV, “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed, baby. Falling asleep out here won’t be good for either of us.”
Dennis made no effort to get up, only weakly mumbled his protest against Michael’s shoulder. He heard Michael sigh and then suddenly felt himself being lifted. Dennis let out a squeak, tightly wrapping his arms and legs around Michael.
“Michael!” he called out with a croak, “Put me down, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”
“You better not be calling me old!” Michael said, laughing, as he continued carrying Dennis to his bedroom. Dennis could do nothing but let out a hoarse laugh, the pain in his throat suppressed by love he felt in that moment.
-- -- -- --
Cut to 1:12 AM, Dennis jolted awake, his throat was on fire.
He bolted up right, clutching at his neck. His voice, when he tried to say Michael’s name, came out like gravel. He coughed once, then twice, and froze at the taste of iron that filled his mouth. He spit into his hand and leaned over to use the alarm clock on the bedside table as a light. It was red.
He let out an indiscernible croak. Dennis turned over to Michael and started whacking him on the shoulder with his non-bloody hand to rouse him. He was too panicked to take into account the fact that Michael was always a light sleeper and hit him hard.
“Ow, fuck.” Michael stirred beside him, squinting his eyes open “You okay?”
Dennis tried to play it cool, but the rasp gave him away. “Define okay.”
Robby was instantly more alert, his doctor mode activated. He reached for the bedside lamp, the sudden light washed his face pale. Dennis turned over his palm, displaying the red smeared across his, before he had to lift it over his mouth to let out another hacking cough.
Michael had seen a lot working in the ED, blood had long since stopped affecting him, yet seeing the man he loved potentially cough up blood sent him down a spiral. “Dennis, is that blood?”
“Maybe?”
“Why would you say maybe?!”
“Because I’m kinda hoping denial’s an option?”
Michael stared at him for half a beat, then pinched the bridge of his nose, the universal sign for my boyfriend has done something stupid. “Open your mouth.” He leaned over to grab his glasses and his phone, to use as a flashlight, from the nightstand.
“Michael-”
“Now.”
He left no room for argument and Dennis obeyed, dropping his jaw and sticking out tongue. He was trying not to think about how he was in this same position a few hours earlier doing something much more pleasurable.
Robby leaned closer, the faint furrow in his brow doing little to inspire comfort. “From what I can see without proper instruments,” he said softly, “the tissue looks irritated with some lacerations and you’re bleeding from your soft palate.”
“That sounds bad.” Dennis didn’t have to attend medical school to know that bleeding from the throat was not a good sign. There was a scale of severity that ranged from just needing to rest his throat, to it being a perforated pharynx or esophagus that would require surgery to repair.
“It’s not good.” said Michael, climbing out of bed to throw a sweatshirt over his threadbare T-shirt, “Your neck also looks swollen, Are you having any difficulty swallowing or breathing?” Michael asked his questions with a serious tone, the doctor in him needing to get a scope on the full picture.
Dennis winced, half in pain, half in embarrassment, “Um, yeah, to both.” He knew Michael would want him to get checked out, but he really hoped it could wait until the morning, where Michael could stealthily run the checks when they arrived at the Pitt for their shift.
“So… can we just ice it or something?”
Robby hesitated, he walked back over to Dennis, carrying one of his zip-up hoodies and a pair of sweats from the closet which he placed next to Dennis before saying, “Lift up your chin.” Dennis complied and he felt Michael’s careful hands gently press along the outside of his neck, searching for something.
Then he heard it. There was a quiet crackling sound, similar to the noise made when you add milk to Rice Krispies cereal. “Fuck.” Dennis whispered out.
Michael made eye contact with him then, “You tell me Dr. Whitaker, what does that noise mean?”
Dennis closed his eyes, a look of pain and incredulity on his face, features pinched together as he couldn’t believe he was so unlucky, “Subcutaneous emphysema.” he said in a hoarse voice, If he were talking to a patient, Dennis would’ve gone into more detail; explaining that the crackling noise is crepitus and it’s caused by air is leaking from his pharynx or esophagus, otherwise known as subcutaneous emphysema, but this was Michael and he was absolutely already aware.
“We’re going to the hospital.” Michael said, his tone serious, but Dennis needed clarification, “Like the Pitt hospital?”
“Yes.”
“The same one where you work? And I work?” Denis said with a croak, each word scratching his throat as he spoke, meaning he should probably rest his throat.
Robby sighed. He wore that expression he reserved for difficult patients, the one that balanced authority and resignation, as if to say, ‘I know more than you, and we both know how this is going to end.’
“Dennis-”
“I am not walking into the Pitt at two in the morning with a throat injury you can diagnose by simply connecting the dots! Especially if we walk in there together!” he tried to yell, but couldn’t manage more than a breathy whisper.
Yet, Fifteen minutes later, there he was, hoodie pulled up, face buried in the collar, trying to conceal his identity as he trailed behind Robby through the ED entrance like a kid caught sneaking in after curfew.
It was, surprisingly, a quiet night. A good thing, since it meant Dennis could be seen right away. The downside was that the night-shift triage nurse, Harper, spotted them immediately. Or rather, she spotted Dr. Robby, striding through the waiting room toward the check-in desk like he owned the place, which, in a way, he did.
Harper blinked, momentarily thrown. “Robby? Whitaker? What are you-”
Dennis lowered his hood, and her expression changed instantly. Her eyes went straight to his throat, trained instinct recognizing the swelling that the casual eye might miss.
“Oh my God,” she said softly. “You’re the patient?”
Dennis wanted to say something, but Michael's hand on his chest stopped him. Michael cleared his throat and stated “He’s bleeding from his soft palate and has suspected subcutaneous emphysema.” Michael paused, hesitant to say the next bit of important information, “Most likely resulting from trauma.”
Harper raised an eyebrow so high it nearly left her forehead. “Trauma?” She questions, eyes flicking back and forth between them, trying to finish the puzzle when she didn’t have all the pieces.
Dennis wished the vinyl floors would open up and swallow him whole. He didn’t know what was worse, the nurse thinking Michael was abusing him or that he called Michael to come and get him after someone else assaulted him. Based on the look on Harper’s face, there was no doubt in his mind that she thought his injuries were the result of something non-consensual. After all, who would willingly choke down a dick far enough to tear a hole in their throat?
Robby avoided her gaze, the picture of composed professionalism, and handed her Dennis’s chart, which he already filled out with practiced precision while Dennis was lost in the haze of his thoughts. “Just put him in one of the open rooms,” Michael said softly. “And keep it quiet.”
Harper led them toward the back, pausing only to signal the other nurse to take over the desk. Dennis bent toward Michael, voice hoarse and dry, “Trauma, really? Couldn’t you have used ‘minor laceration’ or even ‘routine checkup’?”
Michael’s hand was warm on his lower back, a gentle point of contact that felt less like guidance and more like a lifeline, grounding them both in the midst of this uncertainty. “Did you want me to downplay a potential tear in your pharynx?" Robby murmured back.
“Yes! Absolutely!” Dennis’s voice rose a notch, drawing Harper’s glance before she pulled back the curtain to the exam room. She ushered them inside, then stepped away, likely to summon a doctor and, knowing her, to share the news with anyone who would listen.
Once Dennis hopped up on the bed, Michael only gave him that doctor look, the one equal parts concern and exasperation, and said, “You’re lucky I love you.”
Dennis gave a soft smile at that, how could he not. Michael placed his hand under Dennis’ chin and rubbed his thumb over Dennis' lip before applying slight downward pressure prompting Dennis to open his mouth. He slid his phone from his pocket, turning on the flashlight, and peered into his throat
“Still bleeding a little,” he muttered and brushed a tear from Dennis’ cheek. “I’m sorry baby, I should've been more careful, it’s my fault.”
Dennis reached up to hold Michael’s hand that was resting on his face, “I was a very enthusiastic participant, it’s as much my fault as yours, I could’ve-”
Dennis’s words were swallowed by the abrupt sound of the curtain sliding open, the metal rings scraping loudly against the metal rod and shattering the moment.
“Fucking Hell, brother!” Dr. Abbot’s voice rang out as he entered the room, closing the curtain behind him. He stood there in a wide stance with his arms crossed, looking slightly confused at how close the two were, “What the fuck happened?”
Dennis looked to Michael, Abbot was his friend so he should be in charge of explaining the situation, right? Michael took the hint, sighed and leaned away from Dennis to face Jack.
“Good morning-”
“No, don’t give me that shit, what the fuck is going on?” Abbot said with a glare. Hearing the spreading gossip that your best friend just came into the ED with his much younger intern who was coughing up blood, was not good for anyone’s ability to stay calm.
Michael looked up, as if he were praying for patience, “Dennis has pharyngeal bleeding, crepitus in his neck from suspected subcutaneous emphysema, and he's experiencing pain when talking and-.”
“Great, but that’s not what I asked, Robby, I need an explanation.” Abbot pointed a strict finger at Michael, like he was scolding a young child.
Dennis’ next words cut through some of the tension, “It, uh, also hurts when I breathe” he rasped out.
Abbot's shoulder sank, some of the tension leaving him, “I’ll get you started on supplemental oxygen.” he said gently to Dennis while walking over to the bed.
Dennis shifted slightly on top of the crisp hospital sheets, wincing as he inhaled. Abbot crouched just low enough to meet his eye level. He let the mask of authority soften into something more reassuring, “You’re gonna be okay, kid” he murmured, the words carrying both promise and command.
At the same time, Michael once again moved closer, almost instinctively, letting his hand hover near Dennis’s shoulder. His eyes flicked briefly toward Abbot’s face, almost like he was trying to gauge how mad Abbot was about to become. When he looked away, his gaze shifted to Abbot’s hands, watching as he adjusted the nasal cannula around Dennis’ face.
Dennis leaned into Michael’s hand. It looked like Abbot was choosing to ignore the intimacy happening before him for now, “Alright, kid, just keep taking slow and steady breaths.” Dennis obeyed, drawing shallow, careful breaths, though every inhale made a small hiss of pain escape through his lips. Michael’s eyes never left him, the professional concern layered with something deeper.
Abbot sat down on the rolling stool next to the bed and scooted closer, “Now, no more games, you need to tell me what the fuck happened so I can fix it.”
Michael still seemed reluctant to speak, so Dennis figured it was better he took the lead and explained. It would sound more measured coming from him, less like an accusation of assault. With Michael’s tendency to shoulder all the blame, he would probably spin it as if he’d been violent and wholly responsible for what happened, which simply wasn’t the case.
“Last night I performed oral sex for the first time, he was big, like really big, I pushed myself too far and woke up about an hour ago with severe throat pain and the taste of iron in my mouth.” he paused to take a shaky breath, finally gaining the courage to look at Abbot, who had an unreadable, clinical expression on his face.
Dennis then gave the final blow, “I then woke Michael up and he discovered the bleeding in my throat and the crepitus.”
Abbot sat frozen, taking it all in. Dennis looked between him and Michael, wondering who would break the silence first.
It was Michael, “I suspect it may be a minor perforation in his pharynx. He’ll need a CT scan and an endoscopic examination of his throat to confirm and evaluate the extent of the damage.”
“I’m sorry, what?! Kid did you just imply it was Michael who -”
Dennis cut him off, “It wasn’t his fault! And stop calling me ‘kid,’ I’m almost thirty years old, my prefrontal cortex is fully developed, and I am capable of making my own decisions.” It hurt his throat, but he needed to say it. Dennis knew he was quite a bit younger than Michael, but that didn’t give other people the right to belittle his choices.
Abbot raised up both hands, palms facing out, “Relax, Whitaker, Lord knows I’m not judging, just wanted to confirm we didn’t have a domestic abuse situation on our hands.” He paused for a beat looking between them, “That’s not the case, right?”
Finding Michael’s eyes, Dennis replied, “He’d never hurt me on purpose. It was an accident on both our parts.”
Michael gave him a soft, fleeting smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He ran a hand across the back of his own neck, the gesture more weary than embarrassed, before turning back toward Abbot. “Can you please get him some lidocaine spray to numb his throat; he’s still in pain.”
“Oh shit, yeah, sorry about that Whitaker, I will go grab that and put you on the list for imaging, I’ll note somethings affecting the airway, which should bump him toward the top, can you start an IV for him while I’m gone?”
Michael nodded and Abbot started heading to the door, but paused before leaving the room, he looked back at Michael and in a sincere voice stated, “I’m happy you're happy, brother. That’s all I’ve wanted for you.”