The first time Dennis calls Robby by his first name, itās during their first time having sex. And Robby not being ready for how soft and sweet it was going to be, which is crazy because, come on, itās Dennis, and it makes him curl himself harder around the younger man where heās lying underneath him, burying his face in the softness of Dennisā neck to hide because suddenly it feels like what it actually is: Serious.
Very serious.
Dennis Whitaker has shown himself to be the light, love, and warmth that Michael Robinavitch, not Dr. Robby, or just Robby, has been scrambling after his entire life, too desperate and ruined and unaware to even consider the possibility that it mightāve not even been born yet. Fuck. Heās the most fucked up heās ever felt, in this bed with his protĆ©gĆ© underneath him, holding him just as close as Michael (not Robby, not anymore) is holding him back.
And Dennis gets it, holds him closer, murmurs saccharine things like ācome on, Michael, lemme love you,ā and āyouāre everything,ā and āI love you. I love you,ā and heās moaning and crying a little too, because he thinks this man is it for him, and that his plans on going back home are ruined unless he doesnāt return there alone, and he canāt stop trying to tell Michael that, even when heās inside of him, especially when heās inside of him, and the first name slipped out like a prayer, like prey pleading with a hunter to take it home instead, to feed it, to love it, and he did.
Dennis thinks Michael is so good like that, and even if he sees himself as nothing but greedy and unworthy, crying into his neck as he releases into the deepest parts of Whitaker, Dennis is greedier, unworthier, a quietly placed bear trap waiting for the first foot to move forward.
