Dennis who is crazy touch starved and just. Does not notice. He’s been cuddling pillows his whole life and wanting for something that he couldn’t name, so he figured when he finally got with Jack and Robby that the feeling would go away. It, stubbornly, did not. Whatever itch it was remained unscratched.
Jack and Robby, oblivious to this, were trying to let Dennis ease into the relationship. The two of them had been together for years, and had kind of forgotten what it was like to be new to a relationship. So, if Dennis didn’t explicitly ask, they didn’t do a whole lot of physical touch. But, he rarely asked.
Robby was sitting on the couch with him one night, Dennis curled up against the arm of the plush fabric and his legs bend by Robby’s side. Robby’s hand brushed his knee, and his leg extended to lay across his lap. A little amused, Robby rubbed his leg and watched him absolutely melt into him.
Then, Jack had a similar experience. They were in the kitchen together, he he just needed Dennis to move over a bit so he could get into a drawer, so he guided him to the side with a hand on his back and hip. Dennis blinked up at him and leaned into his side, pressing their ribs together. Jack chuckled, “Sorry, baby, just needed you to move.” Dennis’s cheeks flushed and he shuffled to the side. Jack was sure to run a hand over his spine a few more times that night.
It all culminated one night as the three were lying in bed together, trying to sleep. Dennis was kinda wiggly most nights, but tonight especially he just couldn’t get himself comfortable. Jack patted his arm. “Sugar, get comfy. Bedtime.”
Dennis gave an annoyed little whine and pushed his arm up into Jack’s hand. Experimentally, he wrapped his whole arm around Dennis, who snuggled into it.
“Is that what keeps you from tossing and turning?” Robby hummed. “Cuddles?” He wrapped Dennis up in his arms too and watched the boy fall asleep within the minute.
From then on, they didn’t hold back with the touching.
back on my bullshit again with stalker hucklerabbot and i'm obsessed with you phrasing jack's attitude towards dennis in the early days as being "why is it on the bed". so fucking tasty. i'm having visions of dennis becoming obsessed with jack's petty meanness because it's the perfect counterpart to robby's obsession- what do you mean jack is indifferent to him being here? what do you mean jack somewhat doesn't want him here? i think dennis' obsession with jack starts in him desperately trying to get and keep jack's attention on him, since jack is being so mean and denying him that.
also having major bootlicker visions later on with them. stealing dirty underwear and gym clothes isn't enough for this pup- dennis craves worshipping the very ground jack walks on. he wants to get his tongue all over that dirty leather just as much as he wants jack to step on him with them, to leave bruises on his skin in the pattern of those boots' tread. jack, who's only just starting to warm up to dennis as he's realizing how pathetic this mutt is, how he could never be a threat to him, indulges happily. after all, he's still got some pent up irritation from the worry of robby changing his patterns.
robby in the background starts off distressed that dennis and jack can't seem to get along, until he sees that boot print on dennis' chest and knows it's going to be alright. he's known jack for a very long time, and no matter what the man says, he never bothers to mark up something he doesn't plan on keeping. that's how he kept robby, after all.
- :)
so this is the prequel piece to them drugging and forcing Robby to stay home. I love this verse. I love your mind.
The thing Dennis loves most about Robby is how much Robby adores him.
No-one would go to all that effort if they didn't love him. The cameras, and the gifts. Sitting outside his house for hours and hours at night, just to catch a glimpse of him through the windows.
It's … fuck, it's intoxicating. He's never felt so deeply loved. Wanted. Robby makes him feel like he's the only man in the world, and … well, he loves it. Sue him, he's the baby of a deeply religious large family whose parents didn't believe in condoms. By the time everything made its way down to him - clothes, toys, books - they were fourth-hand and tatty.
He never had anything new, or that was just for him. Attention was never directly solely at him - he had to share it with three brothers and a working farm. When he got to school, he was always 'the youngest Whitaker boy'. Never allowed to stand alone in his own right.
Robby, though. Robby looks at him and sees only him. Robby is … like a spotlight. He buys Dennis whatever the hell he wants, and things he couldn't even imagine asking for. Things brand new, all for him. Just because it makes Dennis happy, and that makes Robby happy.
When Robby fucks him, it's about him. Every word, every touch, is about how perfect Dennis is for Robby. Sometimes, Dennis records the audio - he assumes Robby knows, but he's never asked. But he just - sometimes he needs to hear it back again.
So fucking perfect for me, baby. My sweet boy. My gorgeous boy. Gonna make you feel so good. Been wanting you for so long, God, can't believe you're mine, mine, mine, mine.
It's hot, yeah, but it's a reminder that Robby loves him.
Robby's husband?
Does not love him.
They have an arrangement, Robby tells him. Jack lets him play with whatever new toy he likes, indulge the piece of himself that needs to fixate, obsess, take. The obsession usually fizzles out once Robby gets his dick in them.
Dennis panics for a second that he'll become like that - just another toy to be thrown away, but Robby assures him, no, baby. You're different. You're special. You're just like me.
It's strange, fucking a man with a husband. Being so desperately, painfully in love with a man with a husband. But, Jack … tolerates having him around.
Tolerates might be a strong word. It looks as if they definitely do have an arrangement - Jack will come home to Dennis bouncing on Robby's cock, and will roll his eyes, but say nothing. Let them continue on like he's not pottering around in the kitchen behind them.
But he does not like Dennis. He's made that very clear.
Dennis curls up in their bed, post-fuck, while Robby showers. He's soft, and blissed out, and all he wants is to feel arms around him.
Instead, Jack enters the bedroom, eyes him, and calls out to Robby.
"What's it doing on the bed, Michael."
It.
He feels something curl in his belly. Something like shame. Or arousal. He gets those mixed up sometimes. Wires crossed.
"Don't be cruel, Jack, let him stay!" Robby calls back out, over the spray of the shower. Jack looks sour. He toes off his boots, peels himself out of his clothes, and fuck, he is beautiful.
Dennis can't stop staring.
"Move," Jack orders, voice hard.
Dennis startles. He's so warm and comfortable, though. And Robby left him here, he doesn't want to move.
Jack unstraps his leg, and uses it to nudge at Dennis, not especially gentle. Dennis moves, right down to the end of the bed, over the duvet, where he's pushed.
Jack takes his place at the top of the sheets. He glares at Dennis the entire time.
"If you're staying," Jack snaps at him. "You stay down there."
Like he's some unwanted dog.
Dennis is hurt.
Jack doesn't like him? Jack doesn't want him here? But Robby loves him so much. He's getting used to that feeling. The feeling of being loved. Adored. He doesn't want to give that up.
No, this won't do. He can make Jack like him. He will make Jack like him.
The new obsession blossoms. He has Robby. He wants something new. He wants Jack.
He's a nice boy, he knows that. Sweet, and charming, and clever. Sure, he has a few quirks. He's getting off on knowing that Jack's husband is so obsessed with him he sleeps with his cum-stained underwear sometimes. But they're just quirks.
Dennis is loveable. And he'll show Jack that.
It's not easy, and that just makes him want it all the more. Jack has absolutely no interest in him. The more time Dennis spends at their apartment, in their home, curled up with Robby or suckling at his cock while Jack watches hockey beside them - the more Jack ignores him.
"Jack," he murmurs, on the floor at Robby's feet.
Nothing.
"Jack," he tries again. Robby's watching the two of them, quiet. "Can I - can I blow you?"
The man finally looks down at him, but it's with a flick of disdainful eyes, before they return to the screen.
"No," Jack says flatly. "Be quiet."
Robby looks deeply disappointed, and leans over to murmur something in Jack's ear. Whatever it was, it makes the man scowl.
"If you want to keep your pet in here, you can entertain it," he tells Robby, and Dennis visibly deflates.
So he tries a different tack. He can get Jack's attention other ways. He steals the man's boxers out of the dirty laundry, a day at a time, until every pair is sequestered away in his hideyhole in the guest room.
Jack stalks in, goes right to it, like he's known it's there the entire time, and retrieves them. Dennis is hoping for a reaction. Shouting, maybe Jack will rub his nose in it. That would be something.
But the man only shoots him a withering look, and shoves the boxers into the washer without a word.
God fucking dammit.
Dennis' obsession rises to truly unhealthy levels. Robby tries to talk to him about it. Make him understand that Jack is feeling a little jealous. A little threatened. He's been Robby's husband for decades, and none of Robby's little flings have ever stuck around as long as Dennis.
He can understand that. He doesn't want to be a threat. He just needs Jack to accept him.
He tries harder to find something Jack might want from him. He does every chore in the house, before either of the other two can get to them. Leaves it sparkling clean, tidy, every dish washed.
Jack makes more mess.
He waits, naked in bed, for Jack to come home from his night shift. He's got himself ready, plugged, so Jack can just take.
"For fuck's sake," the man swears when he opens the bedroom door and finds Dennis. "Out. Get out."
"But I - "
"Out."
He slinks out.
This goes on for months. Months. Dennis wants, and tries, and gets rejected, over and over again. Robby licks his wounds, assures him that Jack will come around, that he has no intention of letting Dennis go anywhere.
It's only when Robby is called, last minute, to the hospital to cover an attending shift, and Dennis and Jack are left alone in the apartment together, that something changes.
Dennis had been planning on an evening of keeping Robby's cock in his mouth for hours. He'd been looking forward to it. He had the ibuprofen ready for the ache in his jaw and everything.
And now, he's just sitting on the sofa next to Jack, the both of them deeply uncomfortable.
"Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't think he'd - "
"Obviously you didn't," Jack snaps. "You couldn't have guessed he'd get called in."
If it weren't the poisonous tone, it could almost be something halfway to pleasant.
Dennis huffs.
"I know why you don't like me," he says, fed up. "I'm sorry that Robby loves me, but he does, and I love him too. And I don't want to take him from you! I, like, probably couldn't. He's been married to you for a million fucking years. So just. Why are you still on my ass?"
Jack turns his head, slow, to watch him.
It's like watching a predator size up prey.
"You," he says finally, slow. "Are a fucking pain in my ass."
He looks between Dennis and the floor.
"Sit. Go on."
And Dennis moves, fast, onto the floor, because this is the first time Jack has ever told him to do something beyond fuck off.
Jack nudges him onto his back, and so he lays, flat, his chest thumping. He has no fucking idea what's about to happen, and he's so excited he might burst.
Jack shifts slightly on the sofa, lifting his leg. The prosthetic is balanced against the side. He's still wearing his boots. He barely ever takes them off, Dennis has noticed. They're special, apparently.
The boot lifts, and then - and Dennis isn't sure he's even seeing this right - it's coming down to press, hard, against his chest.
He sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn't dare move.
"Stay," Jack orders.
He stays.
The boot presses down against his sternum, not hard enough to cut off air, but hard enough that the pressure is - fuck, it's something.
"Don't move, pup," Jack warns him, when he starts to squirm just slightly. Not because he wants to escape the almost painful pressure, but. Well, because he's hard.
He gazes at the boot pressing him down into the ground. It's not very clean. Jack should take better care of these. Dennis' mouth goes dry. He could take better care of these.
Jack does absolutely nothing else to him, that night. Barely speaks to him. But when he finally lets his foot up, and Dennis gets to his knees, the man isn't quite as hostile. He watches Dennis, and finally hauls himself up with his crutches. Turns, makes his way toward the bedroom.
"Well?" he asks over his shoulder, when Dennis stays put. "Coming?"
Dennis sleeps blissfully beside Jack, only just barely touching.
It takes weeks for Jack to loosen up enough to let Dennis take his foot gently, rest it on his own knee.
"What are you doing?" Jack asks, watching. He isn't moving, or tugging away.
"Cleaning," Dennis says, and lowers his head to the boot. He flicks his tongue out, and the taste of well-worn leather, dust and dirt. He moans, unable to stop himself, and his tongue widens out into eager laves.
Jack looks down at him, brow raised.
"Why?" he asks, sounding amused. Robby is watching from the other sofa, his mouth curled into a smile.
"Because he likes you, Jack," he says, fond. "And he takes care of the things he likes. Isn't that right, baby?"
Dennis nods, without letting up. The leather taste, rich and deep on his tongue, is stronger with every swipe, the grime of the day washed away.
"Hm," Jack hums. He waits until the boot is spit-shiny, and then tosses Dennis the other one, tugged off the prosthetic. "Good boy."
your post + the Wave of fauxcest everyone's been blessed with lately are mashing in my head something Fierce
dead dove fauxcest where dennis very much so does NOT want to be rabbot's pseudo son pseudo toy pseudo whatEVER the fuck🤤
the first time he finally calls out for dad/daddy just in complete tears...hating having to call them that in a domestic And sexual setting and there's no clear line (to him) when one bleeds into the other
(eyes the stalker/kidnapping/dead dove doc i add to when im bored
haha no yeah THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUTTTT
Dennis had a good relationship with his family. He loved and respected his father. Never dared to talk back to his mom. Sure his brothers were annoying but they still cared about him and even shed a few tears at his college graduation.
So there's no reason for him to be...reacting to this. He shouldn't, he doesn't need to have some sort of weird rush of endorphins when Robby and Jack refer to themselves as daddy and dad.
He lost the urge to fight a while ago. They were older, and he had foolishly thought that meant he could get away if he tried hard enough. But dad-Jack, his name is Jack- is strong and good at tying ropes. Daddy-no, Robby, jesus, Robby- kept slipping something into his food or maybe his drinks or maybe both to make him sleepy and pliant and soft.
That's what they kept saying. "Such a good boy, such a soft, sweet thing, Denny."
Robby would actively pretend not to hear Dennis when he pleaded "Dr. Robby, please, I won't tell anyone, please, I want to go home." He'd keep talking about the toy Dennis was holding or the book they were reading. "Yes, that is a duck, such a smart boy. You want to turn the page or should I?"
Jack was meaner. Scarier. He'd tilt his head and hum, "I know my sweet boy didn't just say what I think he said. Because my little boy knows what dad would have to do if his son was being so disrespectful."
Dennis starts relying on the comfort wherever he can get it. He doesn't want to feel his body relax into his daddy's hold but sometimes the body heat is so perfect and inviting and he gets drowsy and lets out a soft little sigh. He doesn't want dad to know that the movie that he insisted he could handle is in fact scaring him but he clings to dad anyway, hiding his face at the jump scares, burning red when it gets him a "Oh, don't worry, baby. Dad's right here, he'll keep you safe."
And they blur the line, move the goalpost, switch it up on him to a point where Dennis can't keep up and his head hurts from trying.
He can go from lounging on the couch with dad, talking about something normal, and then suddenly he's got his mouth around his dad's cock, eyes wet with tears and confusion the only thing he can cling to. Daddy insists Dennis is too little to get dressed by himself but somehow that ends up with him getting fucked into the mattress, head buried in a pillow that smells too much like his dad, lips and legs shaking, somehow vaguely hoping his daddy will be nice enough to help him cum too.
Dennis doesn't even mean to call them it so casually. It just happens one day, so natural and simple with the way it falls out of his mouth. They're arguing about his bedtime, about him getting a treat after dinner, about something that Dennis used to be able to choose himself but now he doesn't. Can't.
And he just looks up with a pout, and argues "But daddy, you promised. You said it this morning. Dad heard it too."
Daddy looks so fucking elated that whatever he was arguing against was instantly given. Dad looks smug, smitten, predatory. Like he has plans to hear Dennis say it again soon. Like he won something. Beat Dennis somehow.
“but are people like me, you know…welcome?” dennis asked while looking at labs on one of the communal tablets.
trinity quirked her head to the side while typing. “what’s that supposed to mean? it’s a pride night! of course you’re welcome.”
dennis looked up and took in her confused face. “so, they’re chill with allies being there?” trinity’s mouth dropped open. she didn’t reply, which made dennis scared he’d said something wrong. “i don’t mean anything by it! i’ve just seen some stuff on twitter about allies making pride about themselves.”
victoria was lurking in the back, eavesdropping on everything, but when it became obvious trinity didn’t know what to say, she chimed in. “den, what do you mean ally?” she said it with that vocal fry dennis kinda loved.
“am i-am i not supposed to call myself that?” he wondered. he really was trying. in the past five years, he’d learned a lot about how to word things. was he not an ally yet? was there a new word for it?
trinity, mostly recovered from her uncharacteristic speechlessness, replied, “so are you not…” she trailed off.
“what?” dennis demanded. “not what? i’m not homophobic, if that’s what your asking.”
“no, den. no one thinks you’re homophobic,” victoria soothed, while stepping closer. “i guess we both assumed you were queer.”
dennis’s face twisted up. he wasn’t offended exactly. being thought of as queer wasn’t offensive he reminded himself. “why would you think that?”
trinity and victoria looked at each other in alarm, then looked to dr. robby, who was unsubtly listening, then back at dennis.
trinity, not having time to get into all of it, said, “let’s talk about this at home.”
Finally, Jack was home. After grueling months of deployment, while rewarding, he is so happy to be home. He made it through the bus ride to the airport, the plane ride home, and the taxi ride to his apartment without collapsing — shocker.
But he made it. And now he stands right outside his apartment with the door being his only obstacle left.
However, despite the many pleas from a certain brown-haired and brown-eyed man, he had no one waiting at the airport for him. Instead, his partner, his person, is on the other side of that door.
The vast amount of phone calls and letters would never match up to the joys Jack gets from physically being around Robby. Especially given the fact that DADT is in place, making their communications extremely restrictive and secretive.
All he has to do is turn his key into the knob, push the door open, and he’ll most likely find Robby sprawled out on the couch with a textbook lying flat on his chest as he sleeps. For some reason, though, he can’t find it in himself to turn that knob just yet.
He has missed Robby so much. Missed him so much that his heart ached when his nights on base got too quiet, when he didn’t hear small snores from anyone next to him or felt soft hair tickling his neck. He has missed him, truly. However, he worries that Robby, no matter how many reassurances were whispered through phone calls, won’t want to bear the weight of DADT anymore, wanting to be free to be himself.
It’s stupid, he knows that. He typically isn’t the worrier in their relationship. Given the amount of times Robby has needed reassurance that Jack only had eyes for him — I mean how could I not, he’s hot as hell, he thinks — Jack isn’t necessarily labeled as the worrier. He only ever overthinks this aspect of their relationship where Robby will leave him for someone who allows him to fully be him. Logically, he knows that’s not true because time and time again Robby has shown his devotion to their relationship through all their long distance communication. Yet, Jacks brain always nags at him like this, especially when he comes back from deployment.
But his worrying tends to be outweighed by how much he misses Robby.
He thinks, only way but through, right, as he reaches out to the door knob. Before he can actually turn the cold metal, he is interrupted by the door flying open, revealing Robby.
“Sorry!! I may or may not have been peeking when your taxi pulled up, and you just were taking forever to open the door,” Robby quickly explains once he takes in Jacks bewildered face. “I just… I really wanted to see you. I missed you.” He adds, softer.
As for Jack, he barely got any of that. His brain may have short circuited once he fully looked at Robby’s face, because before his deployment, Robby’s face was as clean shaven as it was when he was a baby. Everyone constantly made fun of his baby face as he would blush and beg everyone to stop. But now, well now his face is sporting a thick, brown beard. Fuck he’s hot.
With a huff of a laugh Robby asks “What? you like the beard?” Shit, I said that out loud didn’t I, Jack thinks.
He is still somewhat stuck in a daze because currently Robby is standing in the doorway, in his old gray sweatpants, Jacks long sleeve black tee, hair all rumpled, glasses perched on his nose, as he scratches at his beard. And to Jack, well, he just looks divine.
Once another beat passes where Jack is still stuck staring, Robby starts to open his mouth but before he can say anything Jack is rushing towards him, crowding his space, and smashing his lips against his.
He backs Robby up into their apartment, slamming the door behind them, and shoving Robby into the wall.
With a groan coming from Robby, his hand follows and slowly pushes Jack away. Jack will never admit it, but he did in fact pout.
“What’s up with you?” Robby asks with a small laugh.
“Just missed you is all,” Jack replies which comes out barely coherent as he shoves his face into Robby’s neck and starts leaving soft kisses anywhere he can reach. “And that beard..” Jack trails.
“Yeah, rotations made me go a little crazy and I never found time to fully shave it,” Robby explains. “I know it’s a big difference, I can change-“
“No!” Jack interrupts. “No, no.. I, um, I like it. A lot.”
“Alright then, it’s settled,” Robby says with a grin as he pulls Jack into another kiss, grabbing his hips with a tight grip as Jack sighs and starts back pedaling to their bedroom. “The beard isn’t going anywhere.”
when Dennis is feeling little and very overwhelmed, he retreats to his small little spot in the bedroom cupboard
it's not often that he finds himself in the small space as when he's little he'll sit with papa (jack) or dada (Robby) but sometimes the world is too much and he's just gotta curl up for a while
little!den plopping himself into robby's lap, tired and a little shaky, quiet as a mouse. he nuzzles weakly underneath robby's jaw, just so, so sad and exhausted, in desperate need of comfort, of safety.
robby understands immediately, because he always does, because he knows his boy. cuddles dennis closer to his chest, rubs warm, firm circles over his back until dennis loosens. murmurs oh, baby boy. are you feeling small? yeah? shh, that's okay, papa's right here, baby. riight here, always.
