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Robby’s hand rests gingerly on the nape of Dennis’s neck as he stands behind him, peering over his shoulder as Dennis asks him to review a chart on one of the hospital computers. His thumb mindlessly coils around a lock of hair, and Dennis knows that the both of them are only half focused on the chart.
Dennis turns his head, not his body, to look at Robby. “What do you think?”
“It’s a tricky case.” Robby hums, “I’m glad you asked me to consult. I’d say the best course of action is…”
Dennis tunes out the rest of what Robby says. He already knows how to tackle the problem. None of this was about the patient anyway. This was about Robby.
Moments such as these made Dennis so wonderfully curious. He enjoyed drawing Robby in over the boundary line, seeing how far he’s willing to pass into that uncharted space. Robby’s touch was never an intrusion or an admission, but it was always more than what it should be.
Robby touched Dennis like a man who frequently thought about his hands taking in the skin of the other. Fingers pressing into him just enough to transfer warmth, palms mapping the size and shape of his arms, shoulders, the center of his back- every touch was something new to commit to memory, saved for something secret and later.
Dennis enjoyed seeing Robby slowly learn how well he fits into his hand.
It was indulgent. Dennis is candy.
And Robby is too, though he doesn’t know it.
It was easy to figure out Robby’s type. Dennis has lived far longer than the old man, and at some point, one realizes that men are the easiest creatures to understand. They are born with centuries and centuries of power and forgiveness behind them, enough that they naturally move through the world with their relationships to both worn on their sleeves. What would they do with their power? How much do they think they need to be forgiven for?
Robby is a good man. A great man, even. Dennis knew that from the smell of his blood- the warmth of his soul. But per the question of power and forgiveness; Robby wants to earn his power, earn it enough to not need forgiveness at all. He wants to walk within it, guilt free, in charge, and admired for his gait.
Robby likes the youthful, innocent type. The sweet little lambs, even better if they’re broken in some way that Robby can swoop in and mend.
He wants to be their shepherd. A guide. A teacher. Highly moral and helpful. He searches for those who want to be students- who need to be students.
He gives praise. He likes for people to want his praise. To chase it. To earn it.
Dennis thinks it’s cute. It’s men like that who typically are so, so deeply fragile, who have to build themselves into something tall and solid to pretend as though their skin isn’t as soft and unprotected as it actually is. They hate themselves for it, deep down, and they need someone even softer and more unprotected to tell them just how strong and mighty they really are.
And Dennis just so happens to be the object of Robby’s affection.
Dennis so perfectly falls into the desired role, looking as young and pleasant as he did. Unassuming and willing and sweet- everything Robby could hope for. Someone who needs him. Someone who respects him. Someone who he can mold and shape however he so pleases.
A lamb.
A lamb that won’t squirm when he lays it down on the butcher block.
Dennis wants the same thing.
If truth be told, this is all rather selfish.
Dennis desperately wanted to hold him in between his teeth. He wanted to bite into that soft, unprotected skin, and drink the man down to nothing.
He kept himself satiated on blood bags for the same reason Robby kept his desire for Dennis trapped in the small escape of blonde haired, blue eyed boys in amateur porn: there were some things that simply couldn’t be done. Some people that could only be gnawed on in the private confines of the mind at midnight.
They were careful. They were so, so careful.
But, if given the opportunity… well, that’s a different story, isn’t it?
And would it be so wrong? It’d be a tit-for-tat. A mutual indulgence. Sure, neither of them belong in the candy store, but if they went inside, well, couldn’t they both get a little something sweet to lick?
He could give Robby everything he wanted and more. He’d be the perfect little lamb for him. It’d be so worth it. And Dennis would only take a small piece of him- he would barely notice. Sex would mute the pain of it, and spin his head with far too many sensations to be able to focus on just the one. And either way, he wouldn’t remember any of it regardless.
“I’m not sure I’m familiar with that method…” Dennis responds when Robby finally finishes speaking. “Could you show me?”
Robby’s eyes glitter for a moment before he remembers the time. “I would, but the shift's about to end.”
“Oh… maybe tomorrow then?”
Robby shakes his head. “Tomorrow’s my day off.”
Dennis sighs. “I see. I guess I could see if anyone else could teach me?”
Robby pauses with a thought clearly written on his face. He straightens his back and crosses his arms. “You could… but, you know, I think I have everything to show you how to do it back at my place, if you’re open to a little overtime.”
He suggests it casually, carefully stepping around anything too forward or inappropriate, but Dennis can hear the hopeful undertone scattered around the edges of his voice, begging the young man to say yes, yes, yes.
Dennis laughs. “Will I get paid for this overtime?”
Robby smiles. “Just in knowledge.”
Dennis mimics his smile and tilts his head in thought, checking the time on his phone and spinning just a little in his chair. “Sure, why not. I’ll meet you at yours?”
Robby nods and lets his gaze linger on Dennis for just a hair too long. “It’s a date.”
*******
Robby’s place is something out of a magazine. Classy and kept, with no signs of life. It’s got the colors and decor of a leather clad bachelor, yet aged into something mature and well groomed.
He had already splayed out the kit they’d be working with on the table before Dennis even arrived, neatly arranged for the perfect lesson.
And it is a perfect lesson. A genuine learning opportunity, and Robby- frustratingly- treats it as such.
There’s a few stray moments of indulgence within their private company. Wrapping around Dennis from behind to hold his hands steady and guide them, letting his cheek brush into the boy’s hair. A squeeze of the knee when laughing at a joke. An arm rested on the back of his chair as he explains something.
It’s a little more than usual, a little closer, but it’s still nothing at all.
And of course it is. Robby isn’t going to initiate anything, being as careful as he tended to be. He probably barely had the courage to get Dennis into his home. That alone was seemingly his goal, most likely enough to maintain his fantasy; the picture of the young man with the backdrop of Robby’s space. Piecing the two together just to see it- just to know exactly what that looks like. What it feels like.
He couldn’t initiate.
At least, not without a push.
The lesson ends and Robby packs everything back into the kit, content with his secret satisfactions and ready to politely send Dennis on his way.
Once they reach the door to say their thanks and goodbyes, Dennis pats himself down. “Sorry, I think I dropped my pen somewhere.”
“Your pen?”
“Yea, I bet it’s just under the table. I’ll look really quick.”
Robby nods and Dennis pretends to check under the table. He stands up and frowns. “I don’t see it.”
Robby scans the floor for a moment before shrugging, “if I find it, I’ll be sure to return it to you.”
“I’d prefer to find it before I leave. It kinda means a lot to me. It was a gift from someone important…” Dennis bites the inside of his cheek and makes himself smaller. “You know what, nevermind. I know that sounds stupid. It’s just a pen, forget it-”
“No, no, it’s not stupid at all.” Robby shakes his head and waves him off, “Come on, I’ll help you look for it.”
Dennis smiles. “Thanks.”
My hero. He thinks, internally rolling his eyes.
They wander around for a bit. Dennis makes a comment about it rolling under something at some point, probably, and Robby thinks that sounds likely, probably, and Dennis promptly gets on his hands and knees. Robby is propped against the wall, pretending not to look as Dennis stretches himself out on the floor. Dennis can’t help but smile to himself.
He sighs and sits back on his knees, looking up at Robby. “I don’t see it.”
Robby looks tongue tied, seeing Dennis from such an angle. “Maybe you should check again?”
Yea, I bet you’d like that.
“You think I may have missed it?” Dennis asks, tilting his head.
Robby shrugs.
Dennis searches again, feeling Robby’s gaze like a hand on his back. After another moment, he huffs and turns back to face Robby, whose cheeks are noticeably pinker.
“Still not there.” Dennis sighs, rising to his feet.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure where else it could be.”
“Well… you’ll let me know if you find it, right?”
“Of course.”
He closes his eyes and swipes a hand down his face, groaning. “I just- I feel like such an idiot. I don’t know why I even brought it with me, I try to never use it because it’s so important. I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid-”
“Hey, hey-” Robby steps forward and brings a comforting hand to his shoulder, “You’re not stupid. Or an idiot. You made a mistake. Everyone does. I’m sure your pen will turn up.”
Dennis looks up through his lashes at Robby with a soft smile, “You think so?”
And for the first time all night, Dennis sees it. A small glimmer of something familiar and primal in Robby’s eyes.
Hunger.
Let me see your teeth, Robby. He thinks. I’ll be as sweet as you want me to be if you promise to do the same.
“I know so.” Robby says, his voice just a hair deeper and breathier than usual.
Dennis tilts his head slightly into Robby’s touch, laying a hand gently over the top of Robby’s at his shoulder. “Thanks for being so helpful. You’re always there when I need you.”
Robby’s eyes flick to the soft touch and it’s exactly where Dennis wants him. Dennis lets his fingers run down the surface of Robby’s skin to his wrist- nothing more than a small, gentle caress- easily brushed off as mindless if one wasn’t looking to close. But all of Robby’s focus pooled into the sensation of it, and a man such as himself sees it for what it is: a crack in the door.
“I wish there was something I could do for you.” Dennis murmurs sweetly.
Robby’s expression deepens into something curious yet careful as he thumbs along the collar of Dennis’s shirt, letting it slip just a touch under the fabric at the collarbone. “There is something you could do for me, if you really wanted.”
“Of course, anything.” Dennis says with a smile, “Whatever you need.”
Robby moves a small step closer, taking the hem of Dennis’s shirt between his fingers, running his eyes along the surface of the boy’s torso and back up to meet his gaze. “Anything?”
Now this part is tricky. Dennis can’t be too eager, because Robby wants innocence, but he can’t play too dumb, because Robby knows he isn’t, and he definitely can’t be too resistant, because Robby will back off with all the respect and apologies of a man terrified to abuse his position- even if that is part of the rush. Dennis needs to be the fantasy, needs to be the lamb, but still human. Still real. Still himself.
He doesn’t move away, letting Robby know that he’s willing to be held, to be kept and trespassed on. His smile falters, painting his face with the realization of what Robby wants and a breakable amount of uncertainty.
“W- well…” Dennis stutters. “I… uh…”
Robby softens, but keeps his hands firm in place. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course. I won’t push you. You’re safe with me.”
Uh-huh. Never been safer, I’m sure.
He lets his breath catch in his throat and brings his eyes down nervously. “I’ve never, um… I’m not sure I know how to- you know… with a man…”
This seems to both surprise and excite Robby, and Dennis can hear the kick of his heart as it directs blood down, down, down.
Robby guides his hand to Dennis’s jaw, tipping his head up to meet his stare. “That’s no problem… if you’re open to learning.”
Robby’s eyes are more than hungry. They’re starving. Dennis stalls with an anxious energy, visibly thinking as if he hadn’t already made up his mind- as if that’s not why he’s here.
Robby’s gaze is already eating him alive,
After a moment, Dennis swallows and nods. “Yea, I- I can learn.”
A smile pulls Robby’s teeth into view, and his hand moves to tangle in Dennis’s hair.
“I’m so happy to hear you say that.” Robby whispers, and he pulls his little lamb up and forward into his mouth with all the fervor of a starving man finally given permission to taste.
Robby’s mouth is warm. It takes Dennis in like he belongs there, and Dennis moves within it like he’s both gracious and undeserving of such an invite. Robby’s tongue says to make himself at home, Dennis’s lips says he couldn’t possibly- he respects his space too much. They push and pull within one another, and Robby swallows down Dennis’s coyness like something smooth and alcoholic.
Robby’s hands run along Dennis’s body, exploratory and needy, before latching on to Dennis’s hips and guiding him to the wall. A small yelp sounds from the back of Dennis’s throat as his back connects with it, spurring a laugh from Robby that vibrates into the kiss. Robby’s body boxes him in place, towering over him and pressing him into something smaller and easier to take a bite out of.
Robby pulls back and rests his forehead against Dennis’s, already panting and thumbing at the opening of the boy's mouth. Dennis parts his lips as if he isn’t sure he’s meant to do so, looking lost within the action as Robby pushes his finger inside.
Chills gather along Robby’s arm, and Dennis wonders how many times the old man has envisioned this exact moment.
“Show me what you’ve got, Whitaker,” He says with a smirk, “And I’ll tell you how to improve- if you need it.”
You slimy fuck. Dennis thinks, amused.
He’s heard those words plenty of times. So encouraging. So carefully layered. “If you need it”, meaning: give me your best, please me, make me proud.
But that’s not what you want, is it? He thinks. You want to teach me. Show me exactly how naive I am- how much I still have left to learn.
Dennis closes his lips around Robby’s finger and begins to suck in all the wrong ways. Robby smiles, like it’s precious- adorable, even.
“Use your tongue more.” Robby instructs, “Make your cheeks hollow.”
Dennis flicks his eyes up to Robby’s with embarrassment before realigning his focus. He takes the advice in stride, and Robby’s eyes practically glow from excitement. Robby’s free hand occupies itself between his legs, palming himself through his clothes, as he stares at Dennis as if he can already feel his lips around him.
“Watch the teeth, kid.” Robby chuckles.
Dennis nods and obeys.
Now’s not quite the time for his teeth, anyway.
It doesn’t take long for Robby’s patience to leave him, pulling his thumb from Dennis’s mouth, content with the brief lesson and ready for the technical application.
He pulls Dennis back to his lips, pushing him lightly down to his knees and kissing him to the floor. He pulls away, brushing a finger under Dennis’s chin to keep their eyes together.
“Show me what you’ve learned.”
He straightens his back and undoes his belt and zipper. Dennis looks up at him nervously as Robby hooks a hand in his hair. He frees his cock and Dennis’s gaze jumps between it and Robby, as if he didn’t know where to start and is too afraid to fail.
“You got it,” Robby encourages. “You know what to do.”
Dennis nods and takes a breath, leaning forward and timidly taking Robby into his mouth. Just a little bit, just enough. A shudder passes through the old man as Dennis swirls his tongue around the tip, already tasting warm precum dribbling out from the slit. He moves slow and steady, enjoying the way Robby’s heartrate quickens in his chest and wanting to see how far he can test the old man’s patience.
Robby’s voice is gravely as he breathes through his words. “Good, good, just like that. You can take more. Keep going.”
Dennis pushes himself a little further, just to give Robby the satisfaction of his words meaning something. Robby lets him work. Gives him the chance to display his talent. Dennis only takes him in halfway, using his hand to accommodate the rest until Robby swats it away and mutters something about no hands. His bj is mediocre at best. But surely Robby couldn’t possibly fault him- he’s just an innocent virgin after all, with the doe-eyes to prove it.
And Dennis isn’t fully focused on pleasing him anyways. He’s enjoying the taste of Robby’s skin on his tongue, salty and clean, and the warmth of him in his mouth, hard and throbbing with concentrated blood. His gums ached in the sensation of it, craving him more and more with every pass of his tongue along the shaft.
The hand in Dennis’s hair holds his head firm as Robby positions his feet on either side of the boy, pushing his head against the wall. His grip tightens, taking blonde strands eagerly in his fist, apparently out of patience.
“Just stay still for me, Whitaker, just like this.”
There it is, Dennis thinks. Don’t ask, just take, when you know you can.
Dennis obeys, still as stone, as Robby begins to throatfuck him. Slow thrusts at first, only halfway in, like he’s waiting for hands to push against him in protest. Some sort of evidence that he isn’t allowed to do this. Dennis curls his fingers into the fabric of Robby’s pants, not pushing, or pulling, just bracing. Robby takes it as a sign that he’s in the clear to move forward, and every bit of hesitancy is left at the door.
Robby is rougher than expected, and Dennis is delighted by it. The abuse of it only makes this more fun. Dennis understands the appeal. Using someone's body like it’s yours to use, to own, to hurt. Robby is enraptured with making him gag, making him drool thick strings of saliva down his chin, making him suffocate.
He forces himself down Dennis’s throat completely, holding him flush against him with both hands. Dennis jerks, unable to breathe, and white knuckles his fists around Robby’s pants. Robby refuses to move, keeping Dennis locked in place and breathless long enough that it isn’t about pleasure- it’s about power. It’s a test with only one question:
How far can I take this?
“Fuck, I love your mouth,” Robby moans. “You’re doing so good, good boy, fuck, y-yes, good-”
The last words tighten and clip from his voice and his cock twitches in Dennis’s mouth and Robby finally releases him. Dennis rips his head back, hitting the wall as he coughs and desperately pulls in air, covered in his own spit and sweat.
It’s obscene. It’s filthy.
It’s almost perfect.
Robby scoops Dennis’s face tenderly in his hand as he lowers down to his level. “That was incredible, h-ah, I almost came.”
Dennis has no time or space to speak, still catching his breath and pulled back into a sloppy kiss. Robby’s hands run around his body again, seemingly frustrated with the amount of fabric getting in the way. Just as he snakes his fingers under Dennis’s shirt, something halts Robby to a stop and Dennis can practically hear his stomach drop through the floor.
Dennis already knows. A crack formed in the fantasy, and Robby just remembered the young man’s personhood.
Robby leans out of the kiss, caution on his tongue as he speaks softly. “Was that okay?”
The question disappoints Dennis more than it should. It’s endearing, of course, but still disappointing. Even when given the chance to do his worst, Robby just can’t help himself. Good men rarely can.
Dennis won’t be as nice. He hopes Robby forgets his better nature soon.
Dennis swallows and nods, smiling faintly. “Y-yes.”
Robby brushes the side of Dennis’s cheek, moving close enough to mix their breath. “You want to continue?”
Dennis bites his lip and nods again. “Yes.”
Lust pours back into Robby’s eyes and he goes back to kissing him, sweeter this time. His hands move across Dennis gratefully, shifting the fields to something even and equal and nearly reverent- if only for a moment. Just enough to build back trust. To let Dennis breathe the air in Robby’s atmosphere, thin with oxygen, until he’s lightheaded and primed to crash back to earth. Praise spills from Robby’s lips, sticky as honey and just as sweet.
He reaches under the fabric of Dennis’s pants, toying with the elastic of his boxers for a few seconds before he brings his hand to Dennis's chin. “Spit.”
Dennis spits into his palm and Robby slips his hand under the boy’s boxers to meet bare skin. He’s slow and steady and, admittedly, really good at this. Dennis moans as if he isn’t allowed to. As if he’s embarrassed of the noises Robby is pulling from him.
“Let me hear you.” Robby purrs, “You sound so sweet.”
Dennis moans, still soft and small, but with the confidence and release of Robby’s permission. Robby dives back into the kiss, smiling into it as Dennis squirms under his touch. He clasps a hand around Dennis’s neck, kissing him into the wall and quickening his pace. Dennis grows louder and bucks his hips helplessly into the old man’s palm. Robby’s hands are hot against him, and his heart beats loud and hard enough that Dennis can feel it reverberate in his ears like a kick drum and all he wants is to bite into it like an apple.
Robby pulls out of the kiss, still close enough to touch noses as he whispers. “I want to fuck you.”
Dennis opens his eyes to meet Robby’s, with a half drunk, half nervous, fully breathless look on his face. “I’ve n-never…”
Robby smiles. “You’ll be great at it, Whitaker, I know it. You’re already a natural.”
Robby gives him a good, deep stroke and Dennis shivers and holds out an anxious, stopping hand. “Won’t it h-hurt?”
Robby softens and laughs a little, placing tender kisses along Dennis's jaw. “I’ll be gentle… we’ll take it slow… and if you wanna stop, we can stop.”
“That’s not a no…” Dennis murmurs.
Robby nips at Dennis’s ear before centering back into his sight. “Well… it might hurt, a little bit…”
Dennis swallows and brings his eyes to the ground.
“But I promise, it’ll be worth it. You’ll see. You can take a little pain, right?” Robby presses gently. “... For me?”
Dennis nearly breaks character with that line. It seems Robby fully fixed whatever prior crack in the fantasy he had before, comfortably playing his role without any of that pesky guilt.
Right back atcha, Dennis thinks.
Dennis bites the inside of his cheek for a short while before nodding. “Okay… for you.”
Robby smiles as if Dennis had presented him an academy award.
Dennis is half guided, half dragged to the bedroom. He is sat on the bed as Robby quickly grabs a small tube of lube from his nightstand. Dennis takes a moment to peer around his room. It’s… dull. It’s the room of a man who doesn’t feel the need to make it anything more than a place to sleep and dress. Dennis supposes undressing another body doesn’t demand much decor either.
Robby obstructs the view as he takes him back into a kiss, only interrupting it to pull off Dennis’s shirt. Robby presses on Dennis’s chest, taking him down to the bed on his back, letting his fingers sink against the young man’s skin like he could reach into it and grab hold of his ribcage. He quickly removes the rest of Dennis’s clothing, ecstatically peeling it off him like the wrapping paper of a highly anticipated gift.
Robby follows suit, stripping off his own layers and tossing them to the floor. That surprises Dennis. He figured Robby would at least keep his shirt on. He always pegged him as more of the insecure type, but it was nice to be wrong every once in a while, especially when it makes things easier. More surface area to touch means a faster reaction time.
Robby hikes Dennis’s legs up and apart, and Dennis shyly brings his eyes to the wall. Robby is paying expert attention as he hovers above him, balancing himself on a hand perched to the side of Dennis’s head.
“Don’t be shy,” Robby coos, “You look fucking incredible.”
Dennis smiles faintly and lets his eyes reconnect with Robby’s, “I just… can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Robby laughs and places a soft peck on his lips, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
Dennis nods and Robby reaches for the lube. He coats his fingers in it, tossing the bottle aside and turning his attention back to his sweet little lamb. Robby takes his time inside Dennis, relishing in the young man’s noises and expressions. Small whimpers spill out from Dennis with every movement and additional finger. Robby works him up slowly, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Encouraging things. Promises of rewards. Love letters to his body. A pleasant blend of devotion and domination.
“Touch yourself.” Robby mutters into the small of his neck.
Dennis bites his lip and does what he’s told. Robby’s gaze is ravenous as he watches him, eyes like a tongue rolling around the mouth, licking at the teeth.
After some time, Robby gives one final kiss before he moves back, resting on his knees and reaching once more for the lube. Dennis’s breath catches as Robby positions him with strong hands, pulling Dennis flush against him.
Robby smiles, “How do you feel?”
Dennis swallows. “Um… r-ready- I think.”
“Do you trust me?” Robby asks.
And there's a current of something under his voice that Dennis barely picks up on- as if this is the most important question he’s asked, and the most important thing to Robby.
Dennis isn’t sure if it matters to the fantasy or to the human in Robby, or both.
It doesn’t matter either way. Trust was the one thing they’d both be abusing tonight.
“Yes.” Dennis whispers earnestly.
The answer satisfies whatever it needs to satisfy in Robby, and he moves again with purpose. He coats himself with the lube, and presses on the back of Dennis’s thigh, angling the boy just a hair more before he slowly thrusts into him.
Dennis yelps and squeezes his eyes shut as Robby pushes himself fully inside. Dennis takes the bedding by his hips in a desperate fist, panting hard between quiet whines.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Robby says, his voice low and breathy.
“Don’t move- please- don’t- please-” Dennis begs.
Robby smiles and leans forward, pressing their chests together and kissing Dennis’s neck. “I won’t, I won’t…”
“It h-hurts- you’re so big- please don’t move-” Dennis whimpers.
It doesn’t hurt. Robby is warm and fits perfectly inside him. But the show must go on.
Robby says and does everything just short of licking Dennis’s tears. When Dennis finally gives Robby the green light to move, the only thing that could have possibly brought the old man closer to God is to have bore witness to the parting of the red sea himself.
Robby moves graciously within him, slow and lovingly. He had probably pictured this moment a thousand times, and by the look on his face, his imagination could have never come close to the real thing. He wasn’t fucking Dennis so much as he was savoring him. Every tiny, breathy noise, every rocking motion of his body, every twitch at the corner of his lips, the tilt of his head, the rise of his chest. Robby took all of these things in his mind like he was starting a collection, placing them in a glass case in his memory to hold and cherish forever.
Dennis could see the inner lining of Robby’s head slowly coming undone as he picks up the pace. Dennis runs his hands along the open skin of the other, the touch prying into him like hooks, anchoring to Robby’s cognition and filling him with a heady and desperate need for more, more, more.
His fingers glide across the surface of that tender, precious spot just above the carotid, and whatever desire flooded through Robby was a drop in the ocean compared to the hunger thrashing inside Dennis. He could feel warm blood rushing just below the pads of his fingers, sweet, oxygen rich, and gradually saturating with the drug of their connection.
Robby was nearly there. He was tipping over the edge, so close to falling into Dennis’s influence that he could practically taste him already. He was starving. Dennis pulls Robby down on him into a deep kiss and their chests press together hard enough to fuse and Robby’s heart echoes through his skin and Dennis can feel it rattling around inside his own chest and- fuck- he can’t fucking take it anymore-
He clasps a hand around the back of Robby’s head and tears away from the kiss, tilting into the hollow of his neck and sinking his fangs into the soft, unprotected flesh of it.
Robby’s whole body goes rigid. His muscles tenses and something confused and slightly pained sounds from the back of his throat.
Dennis knows he should’ve waited, but he’s miles away from caring. It won’t be a problem. Robby was still exactly where he needed to be. He was new clay on the wheel, just beginning to spin, centered and able to withstand a stray mark or careless finger.
And besides, Dennis only wants a little bit. A taste. An aperitif.
And fuck, Robby’s blood is divine. It spills on Dennis’s tongue like it wants to. It was nectar- sweet and syrupy and everything he had hoped it’d be. His fingers curl into Robby’s hair, feeling the warmth of it spread throughout his body and fill into his digits.
He was already high in Robby’s heartbeat, rhythmic and pouring into his mouth, tasting of pure, god-given life. He could stay in this moment forever.
He could drink Robby’s heart till it stopped.
The slight bitterness of panic begins to seep into the flavor of it like a pollutant, and Dennis realizes he’s being rougher than he should at these still too early stages. Robby pushes lightly against him, his mind slowly crawling back to his awareness, and as much as it pains Dennis to do so, he retracts his fangs.
He licks the wound until it scabs and rolls his head back into the bed, looping his arms around Robby and looking at him with something loving and non-threatening.
Robby is half-paled and disoriented, staring at Dennis with something lost and vaguely afraid. “Wh… what was… that?”
“Nothing.” Dennis soothes with a smile, pulling him closer, “Nothing at all.”
Robby’s eyes go to Dennis’s lips, lingering on them as if they didn’t make sense. “Is that… blood?”
Dennis licks it off and shakes his head, “No, no… there’s no blood. Why would there be blood?”
Robby’s brain doesn’t seem to have the capacity to answer the question. He visibly buffers, and Dennis can hear his own words echoing through Robby’s head.
Dennis moves his hands to the side of Robby’s face, feeling his hooks piercing back into the old man’s mind. He feigns something small and nervous. “Am I doing something wrong?”
Robby blinks, circling the drain and fast.
“I thought you wanted me…” Dennis whispers, hurt and confused.
Robby takes in a breath and his face melts into something soft. “I… I do. Of course I do, I want you so fucking bad.”
Dennis smiles sweetly. “Then why’d you stop?”
Robby blinks himself back into the haze and laughs, unable to come to any reason why he stopped. “Y-you’re right, I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was.”
“Keep going,” Dennis pleads, “You feel so good. I can take it.”
Robby smiles and leans in close. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
He kisses Dennis like he could eat him alive, any inkling of Dennis’s desire to do just that quickly dissipating in a short-term memory that Robby does not currently possess.
Robby gets back into the swing of it as if he had never stopped. He litters Dennis with hickeys, marking his territory and taking in the drug of his skin directly to his mouth. Dennis can feel Robby unraveling in his hands and all he wanted was to pull his string until he was fucking threadbare.
He fucks Dennis like an animal, spending his energy fast and in all the wrong ways. It wasn’t his fault, of course. If Dennis wasn’t so good at this, so naturally gifted at dampening the mind, Robby might’ve been able to muster some form of focus on the shift in power. Maybe he’d even have enough energy left over to try and do something about it. But all he could manage, as of now, was to wear himself out until slack enough for Dennis to take control.
And when it finally happens, Dennis is practically boiling over with anticipation. Robby tells him to get on top, and Dennis has to do everything in his power not to pounce on him like a wild and untamed thing. Robby rests his back against a few pillows stacked by the headboard, gripping his hands around the curve of Dennis’s hips and guiding him in place. Dennis swings a leg over Robby and straddles him, lowering himself back on to Robby’s cock.
He stays still for a moment, adjusting to the new position, laying his hands firm on Robby’s chest. He can feel his heartbeat and body heat running up into his palms, up to his wrists, up his arm. He was drinking him in without even biting, trying on his life like a pair of gloves. Robby was almost his, and Dennis couldn’t wait to have him back on his tongue.
The old man's moans grew thready and thin the farther away he got. Dennis couldn’t break away from the sight of him. Robby was slipping out of his own body, his mind draining out of him and soaking into the bedsheets. It was exhilarating, and Dennis watched with intense focus as Robby became barely anything more than a body underneath him.
Robby’s eyes glass over completely, like crystal waters, and bliss overtakes his features.
Dennis thinks it’s the most beautiful he’s ever looked.
He leans down and tips Robby’s head to the side. It falls into place, lazy and unsupported, exposing his neck. Dennis smirks and runs his fingers along the line of it, closing his eyes and taking in the feeling of his pulse humming just below the surface.
Dennis brings his fangs to that perfect, vulnerable spot, grazing them across Robby’s skin, waiting for only as long as he could possibly tolerate, touching himself and letting his anticipation build until the dam of it finally bursts.
Dennis tears into Robby’s throat, careless and deep. Robby’s breath catches, but he’s too far gone to fight, let alone understand what’s even happening. Dennis continues to ride the old man, keeping a steady and continuous pace as he swallows him down. Robby’s blood raises Dennis’s body heat to something white-hot and searing, worlds away from the cold sting of death that usually binds him to the grave.
He was resurrected in the taste of him and high as a kite in the sweet, cherry red ecstasy that flowed in Robby’s veins. All of his senses heightened and spun wild in his processing. The silk of Robby’s bedding, the texture of his skin, the feeling of his cock, the sound of his breath, his heartbeat, the colors of everything, the taste of everything, the smell of everything-
It was overwhelming and all at once and Dennis could only want more, more, more. It was total euphoria, and Dennis was fucking floating.
Robby gently brings a hand as high up on Dennis as he could manage, and the touch is considerably weaker than it had been. Dennis is surprised he’s able to move at all. Perhaps it was something desperate clawing up from deep inside the man, a small part of him that’s aware that he’s dying.
Dennis knows he needs to stop. He couldn’t kill Robby. It would be too complicated, and killing him would mean that Dennis never got the chance to do this again.
But he can’t help but push it. He has to push it. Robby would’ve done the same if he were him. He could understand, surely, that some things are sweeter when you aren’t meant to have them.
Though, Robby tastes like Dennis is only meant to have him.
Something warm coils in his stomach, like a deep pressure, and he moans into his bite. His breath is ragged in his lungs and it makes for a messy meal. Blood pours from Robby’s artery as his mouth struggles to take in air and drink at the same time.
He strokes himself faster and pushes down harder on Robby, overtaken with the electricity of the moment. He was full off it. He was full of it. Every carnal appetite of his was being violently and excessively satiated, and his cup was spilling over onto his fingers with something gluttonous and red and white and sweet and hot and-
Dennis’s hand shoots out to brace against the headboard as his entire body tenses and shakes as he comes onto Robby’s stomach. He moans loud and reckless, caught between the force of his body’s reaction and the desire to dip his head back into Robby’s neck to lap at the blood still rushing like a river out of it.
When he finally gets some semblance of his bearings, still shaking and panting into Robby’s ear, he notices how pale and damp Robby’s skin is. He closes his eyes and swears under his breath. He couldn’t take any more without sending the old man to an early grave. Dennis mourned all the fresh blood, still laced with the life of Robby’s pulse, that had missed his mouth during his orgasm.
He would be more careful next time.
Dennis licks the wound closed, running his tongue over Robby’s body to clean up some of that stray bloodshed. It lost most of its flavor as soon as it touched the air, but it was still vaguely warm and bittersweet.
He leans back and admires his handywork. Robby is a puddle of nothing in the bed, eyes half lidded and glazed, no more than playdough at this point.
Dennis smiles wide with bloodstained teeth and rolls off Robby, laying beside him, resting his head on his chest and wrapping his arm around him. He listens to the quiet rhythm of Robby’s heart for a while as he relaxes into the feeling of his slowly settling high.
Dennis spends the next few minutes familiarizing himself with Robby’s bedroom. He wonders if he can convince Robby to liven it up a bit. It was so dull, and it’d be nice to have a little more color to look at if he was going to be back here often.
After some time, Dennis hears Robby’s heart kick up the dust in his chest as he comes back to the land of the living.
Hello again, Dennis thinks. Finally out of your stupor?
Dennis turns to face him, looking up at the man like he was a precious object that no one else in the world understood the value of. Robby’s gaze is fixed on Dennis, wide eyed, confused, and afraid as he takes in the sight of his own blood all over Dennis’s face.
Dennis smirks and sits up. He hovers over Robby and places a soft kiss on his lips. “You were right… that was worth it. We should do this again some time.”
Robby’s heart skips a beat and he meekly tries to put some space between them, though he is unable to support the weight of his own body. His voice is barely a whisper as he chokes words out on the edge of his breath. “What… wh…”
“Shhh, sh, sh,” Dennis soothes, bringing a hand to Robby’s chest with a smile, “It’s alright. Everything’s okay. Just look at me.”
Robby’s eyes lock in Dennis’s and the vampire places his final hook.
He leaves Robby with all the memory he’s okay to keep, even does him a favor and bolsters his performance towards the end of it.
Dennis was his perfect lamb.
He’s certain there will be plenty more at-home lessons to come.