listen it's not that I think epic the musical is a perfect adaption of the odyssey but it was an impressive passion project that knew what it wanted to be and knew what people gravitated to in the original work and it put significant effort into conveying this through its unique medium and tone to the point that hundreds of other people felt compelled to put effort into their own artistic interpretations of that version of the story. and that's really cool! and yes I would be more critical if it was a 100 million dollar project made by a professional because what the fuck do you mean you're a world-famous director and you cut the my name is nobody scene are you goddamn serious
Ok and what if I once again bring up Omega!Robby going through twink death and thinking that Jack isn't going to want him once he comes back from the military. What if I brought up Robby desperately trying hair treatments to make it look soft and fluffy again, shaving his beard, trying every diet pill under the sun for that stubborn weight around his middle that just won't go away?
What if I brought up Alpha!Jack who's so embarrassed to meet Robby for the first time in ages. What kind of alpha can protect and provide for their mate missing a leg? What if I brought up the dread in the pits of their stomachs that doesn't go away after the reassurances when they reunite?
Pre med Rabbot arguing about something in their dorm. Jack takes a playful, but irritated swipe at Robby and they end up wrestling.
Robby puts up a good fight, but Jack did a ton of sports in high school and still keeps up with regular workouts, so it’s not long before Jack has Robby pinned on his stomach under him.
And… well… all that rolling around… getting his blood pumping…
He’s hard. Jack’s hard, and his dick is pressed right between Robby’s ass cheeks. When he realizes, he freezes. His brain finally catches up with reality, but before he can apologize and move away, Robby rolls his hips backwards.
A low moan rumbles through Jack. Cautiously, he pushes forward. It feels so good. The scrape of his boxers and Robby’s pajama pants provides a soft friction, but the materials are thin enough that he can still feel the heat of Robby through their clothes.
Robby pushes back again; Jack pushes forward.
This slow back and forth goes on for a few minutes before Jack snaps. He places a firm hand on the floor next to Robby’s head, and the other tight on his hip, keeping Robby’s hips tilted up just right for Jack to hump against like a wild animal.
Robby lies there and takes it. Biting his lip to muffle his needy whines and looking back at Jack with glazed-over eyes and beautiful pink cheeks smashed into the floor.
It doesn’t take long for Jack to cum, leaving what should be a humiliatingly large stain in his underwear, but he doesn’t care. He leans back on his knees, trying to catch his breath and bring his consciousness back inside his body.
In that time, Robby rolls over onto his back, exposing the large tent that’s formed in his pants. He moves to wiggle out from under Jack, presumably to take care of his own obvious problem, but Jack pins him down again with a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Robby looks up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. Jack’s own trace the desperate bob of Robby’s Adam’s Apple before darting back down to his covered hard-on.
Jack places a flat palm on Robby’s clothed dick. A small, pitiful sound breaks through Robby.
“Do it,” Jack demands.
Robby’s breath stutters, a little confused, but he catches on quickly. He plants his feet for leverage and bucks his hips, rubbing his hard dick against Jack’s unmoving, flat hand.
With each thrust, Robby loses more and more of his composure. Soon his face blooms into a radiant red, and the hold on his lip slips, releasing wanton moans into the air.
Jack is too recently spent to go again, but that doesn’t stop his dick from twitching in interest.
Robby orgasms so prettily. His moans echo through the room, and his blush has descended past the collar of his shirt. Jack resists the temptation to lift the hem and check how far down it goes.
“We good?” Jack asks. His palm is still hot from all Robby’s rubbing.
“Yeah.” Robby swallows. “We’re good.”
After that, they enter a silent agreement to get each other off. It starts slow, with little brushes here and there that turn into more humping and the occasional hand.
But they also have unspoken rules. No purposeful skin-to-skin, no getting naked, and no kissing.
They get close sometimes. Fingers brushing under lifted shift hems and heavy panting into each other’s mouths, but they never cross the line.
That is, until Jack gets home from class, pent up beyond belief.
It’s been a long week, and all Jack could think about during that dull-ass lecture was Robby’s pretty blissed-out face. And then when he walks into their dorm, there he is in nothing but his underwear, waiting for his leftovers to finish in the microwave.
Jack snaps. Before he can think, he’s shoving his jeans down to his knees, and Robby is bent over the counter, letting himself be humped in the middle of their kitchen with Jack’s hands enveloping his thin waist. Jack figures it’s not really breaking the rules, more bending, since he wouldn’t be touching Robby’s bare torso if he was properly dressed.
“I didn’t know you wore panties,” Jack huffs.
“I— I don’t.” Robby's arguing is undercut by his soft whimpers and the fact that Jack can see the tiny briefs cupping his ass. His cheeks bounce under the material with each of Jack’s thrusts.
Jack’s grip on Robby’s waist tightens, and is pace increases. It’s not long before a familiar wet puddle forms in his boxers.
The microwave is beeping somewhere far away, but Jack doesn’t give a shit. He’s too focused on placing Robby against the fridge. Jack cups his hands under Robby’s thighs and helps him grind against his stomach.
The briefs give Jack a nice outline of Robby’s dick. It’s nothing special. Jack could probably cover the whole thing with one fist; he imagines it leaving a trail over Robby’s thin stomach while Jack fucks him until he cries.
Robby’s little whines turn to moans, and for the first time, Jack is able to see that pretty pink blush crawl all the way down to his nipples. Fuck. Jack’s mouth waters; he wants to bite them so bad, but he can’t. That would definitely be against the rules.
Although… the way Robby is looking at him is already pushing it. Jack knows Robby wants to kiss him. If he did, Jack would shove his tongue so far down his throat that he’d be able to feel all of Robby’s pretty noises. But he doesn’t, and Jack isn’t about to be the one to knock down that barrier.
Robby cums in his little panties with his head tilted back, and goddamn it takes every bit of strength in Jack not to latch onto his neck.
Delicately, he places Robby’s shaking feet back on the ground.
“Thanks,” Jack says.
It takes Robby a moment to comprehend what Jack said. “Oh, yeah,” he says eventually. “Thank you too…”
Robby looks so dizzy. Jack wants to wrap him in his arms and hold him until his balance returns; he wants to bury them both beneath a blanket and pretend nothing else exists.
He pats Robby’s shoulder; good game, and walks away.
Most cop thing I've ever read. what the fuck are you talking about. The posts you're looking for might be on this website but we won't show them to you???
just so you know, if you completely ignore the search feature on the website and just type "tumblr.com/search/term" into the address bar, it bypasses all of this. broken-ass website
dennis is pretty drunk when trinity pulls him aside at the club to ask if he could make himself scarce at their apartment that night so that he could take the girl who'd been steadily funding her drinks for the past two hours home. he says yes. of course he says yes, he's heard more of trinity's sex life than he wanted to over the past year, so at this point he was just happy to have been given the warning.
the uber ride is awkward and silent, but thankfully short. dennis is happy to rest his head against the cold window and close his eyes to avoid feeling dizzy instead of having to keep up with dry small talk. he steps out onto the sidewalk, thanking the driver before closing the door and walking up the footpath to the door of the townhouse.
the key scrapes at the keyhole as he fumbles with shaky hands to insert it aided only by the low glow of a streetlamp nearby. it clicks open and he shuffles in, toeing his shoes off to leave in the entryway. it's warm. dark, cozy, and familiar.
his throat is dry from too much alcohol and not enough water (and maybe a drunk cigarette or two). dennis stumbles his way through the unlit house to the kitchen. the moonlight shines through the window, but he doesn't need the illumination of it to know which cabinet to open or what shelf to reach towards to get a cup. when he fills the cup with ice from the freezer ice dispenser the whirring of the machine grates his ears that are very much still ringing from the too loud club music. he closes his eyes and leans back against the counter as he sips at the cold water. everything hurts. his skin feels disgusting, covered in dried down sweat and spilled drinks, but at least it's peaceful here.
"who the fuck—whitaker?"
dennis's eyes shoot open quickly, his brain lags a few seconds behind. robby is standing in front of him. dr. robby. standing in dr. robby's kitchen. because dr. robby has definitely been home from his sabbatical for weeks and it makes way more sense for him to be in his kitchen at three a.m. than for dennis to be there. because dennis isn't house sitting any more, so he definitely shouldn't still be using robby's place to hide from lesbian sex noises. it is probably actually really weird that he was there.
"is it weird that i'm here?"
"is... whitaker, are you drunk?"
dennis laughs. this is all very funny. he's suddenly aware that maybe he hasn't sobered up as much as he thought. "little bit... lottle bit..." he corrects himself between giggles.
robby sighs, rubbing at his eyes. he looks tired. probably because he just got woken up to someone in his kitchen at three in the morning. he still looks good. dennis thinks he always looks good, a little blurry right now, though.
"why are you drunk in my kitchen right now, dennis?" robby asks with a raised brow.
"muscle memory i guess. would come here when... trinity is having sex right now, so i don't wanna be home—"
robby exhales sharply, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back. "nevermind! forget i asked—"
dennis scrunches up his face, continuing on like robby didn't say anything, "because if i'm home then i'd have to hear sex noises, and i don't want to hear sex noises... unless you want to make sex noises, dr. robby. i wouldn't mind that."
robby hums awkwardly, trying to get him to shut up. "okay! i mean not— okay okay. i think you should make sleep noises right now. in the guest room. and then tomorrow you can make hangover noises, yeah?"
dennis thinks that maybe if it wasn't so dark in here, he'd be able to see that robby's face was red. "sleep," he affirms, nodding dutifully. he sets his now drained glass on the counter before padding down the hallway after robby on socked feet.
robby still doesn't ask for his house key back when he gets dennis situated in an uber (that he pays for) the next day.
“she was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. “
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