dennis is a masochist.
or so he tells people.
it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy sex, it just feels better when paired with the immediate punishment. stops him from enjoying too much, that all.
it means he doesn’t have to atone for it later.
spanking, flogging, nipple clamps, choking, cbt, punching, biting, you name it, dennis has done it.
from seedy kink clubs in the depths of pittsburgh, to following men home from bars just on the wrong side of drunk, to doling the pain himself when someone tells him how to jerk off on the other end of a phone.
and yeah, his stomach drops and he feels sick at the thought of pain sex.
but it’s fine. it’s necessary.
so of course, when he and robby start dating, he tells him he’s a masochist.
and robby has experience of domming, and he isn’t a sadist, but he likes making his partners happy.
so he bites. and scratches. and spanks— when dennis asks.
and yes, dennis makes uncomfortably pained whines, but it’s fine, he’s a grown man who asked for it.
until robby starts to see signs.
sometimes he’ll zone out during sex. sometimes he hides away afterwards. most of the time he doesn’t seem to like the pain in the way most of his partners have.
so robby decides to check in more. praising him more.
and good god, does dennis react well to praise.
his eyes light up and he arches into it and makes noises robby didn’t even think were possible.
especially when he brings out the pet names.
“how you doing mouse?”
“what if i did… this, baby?”
“breathe through it sweetheart”
and especially;
“what’s your colour, puppy?”
dennis shakes his head.
robby pauses.
he swallows his discomfort.
“g-green.”
robby sees how he’s slightly shaking. his pupils blown. eyes unfocused. muscles tensed. he makes an executive decision.
“i’m calling red, okay.”
dennis whined.
“n-no. more. need more. not enough.” he jabbered mindlessly.
“no baby, you’re done.”
dennis sobbed, “please, i can be good, just let me, i’m sorry-”
robby pressed his hand to dennis’s chest, reaching up with the other to untie his wrists.
“shh shh shh, honey. no more, okay.”
dennis just shook his head.
by the time robby had him bundled up in his arms, dennis’s sobs had finally started to die down.
“you want to talk about it now, or later?” robby whispered into dennis’s curls.
he whined sleepily, nuzzling into robby’s neck as if he could burrow under his skin and make a nest there.
“hmm, it’s fine. i’m fine,” dennis insisted.
robby hummed in disapproval. "we'll talk later, okay? you're not in trouble, and i don't ever want you to think that you will be, but we need to talk, puppy. to make sure that we're both being as safe as we can be. i love you, and i don’t want to see you hurt."
