Jack and Robby have been on the roof longer than they usually are. After the stress of Pittfest and Leah dying, walking back down the stairs seems too exhausting to even consider.
"Maybe we should think about taking the easier way down", Jack jokes half-heartedly, not entirely convinced Robby won't actually do it.
"Still talking. Fuck. Let's go get those drinks", Robby replies, scrubbing a hand down his face, suddenly looking older than Jack has ever seen him.
As they walk down, they hear a sound from the 8th floor, a quiet groan, followed by a whine.
"The fuck? Isn't that part abandoned?" Jack asks, knowing full well it is.
"Maybe a Psych patient escaped, wouldn't surprise me on this shit day. Just the fucking cherry on top, having to wrangle a guy down the stairs"
They carefully walk to where the sounds are coming from, increasing in pitch and volume.
"Sounds more like a fucking puppy than a guy, brother", Jack jokes, clearly unnerved.
Sneakily peaking around the corner, what they see is not a Patient or an animal, but..
"Whitaker?", Robby hisses, "What the fuck are you doing up here?"
He doesn't react though, eyes shut, writhing on a thin cot in the corner, still making those frankly pathetic sounds.
They silently creep closer, when they see he's not wearing a shirt, upper body shining with sweat and his boxers are completely wet.
"Fuck, brother. I think the puppy is having a nice dream, he could power AI for a year with how soaked he is."
As Jack is talking, Dennis whimpers a word.
"Huh, who do you think he's dreaming about? You, probably, with the way you've been touching him."
"Jack, I'm going to go drag you back up the roof and throw you off. It's not my shift anymore so the night shift can scrape you off the-
"Doctor Abbot please", the boy keens.
"What.", both men snap out of it.
"Guess I must have really made an impression" Jack smirks, wandering over and stroaking the younger mans hair.
"Robby- Daddy, please let me- I need to", the squirming intensifies and he's now trying to hump the air.
"Hmm, guess he's not picky. Little whore, should we wake him? Give him something to actually dream about?", Jack asks, hand already drifting down to the soaked boxers. One of his fingers press down and-
"Hrnghhh", Dennis' back arches off his bed, the singular touch to his clit enough to make him finish.
They expect him to wake up, to realise what happened but instead, he just curls up, unconsciously grabbing Jacks arm and dragging him down onto the mattress.
"Guess we should wait for him to wake up, huh? C'mere big guy, you can fit on here too, give him something nice to wake up to."
They have a restful night of sleep for the first time in months.
"What the fuck", Dennis yells as he wakes up cuddling with his attendings
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