Chapter Text
James and Dennis had exchanged contacts at the beginning of his rotation. He figured there wouldn't be much coming through, maybe a “happy birthday” at most. That is until late one night, a notification pops up from Whitaker, “[image attached] goodnight baby”
Attached was an image of Whitaker laying in his bed, on his back, shirt pushed up, exposing his stomach and panties. He had on a frilly, light blue pair. The room was dark, they looked wet. James wasn't really sure what to do with himself. He didn't even realize Whitaker was trans until now. The fantasies he had about him began shifting.
(12:01 AM) Jesus christ
He wondered if Whitaker owned a strap on. He decided he should probably text Whitaker back, let him know he sent that picture to the wrong James.
(12:02 AM) Was this meant for someone else?
Ogilvie shut off his phone, trying to convince himself he could just roll over and forget about this. He laid in his bed for half an hour, the picture burned into the back of his eyes. He felt warm and dizzy. Felt like he was 14 with poor impulse control. His dick kind of hurt.
He made a rash decision. A part of him imagined if Whitaker did mean to send him that picture. He’d expect something in return, right?
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and pushed his shirt up, a lazy imitation of Whitaker's picture. Laying in bed on his back, his lithe stomach exposed. He was flushed pink. He was fully clothed, but his erection was very much visible through his sweatpants. He hit send.
Closing his eyes again, now for a different purpose, his brain began creating more images of Whitaker. Whitaker sitting in his lap, nipping at his throat, leaving angry red marks that would quickly bruise into garish yellows and purples. He hoped they would stay a long time, that no one but him and Dennis would know where exactly they came from. He wouldn’t be able to make up any reasonable excuse for them, it’d be too obvious. He didn't believe Whitaker could be cruel, but he also didn't know him for very long. Some of the most perverted people are shy and inconspicuous.
Another part of him imagined Whitaker's demeanor leaning more meek and obedient. He saw how he acted around Dr. Robby. He imagined being Whitaker's first. James being the one to corrupt Dennis. To be the first and only person to see Whitaker so truly debauched. To make it so Dennis would be too fucked up for Robby, or anyone else for that matter.
At that thought, James keened. A high, whiny noise escaped him as he spilled over himself. He barely got any time to enjoy it, a wave of shame crashing over him right after.
Idling fantasizing about Whitaker wasn't anything new, sure, but imaging it so vividly and fetishistically was.
But more so, in his state, he sent a photo of himself. Of his clothed dick. To his coworker. It had been more than 2 minutes, he couldn’t delete it now. Fuck iMessage.
(12:55 AM) fuck sorry
(12:56 AM) I shouldnt have sent that sorry
***
James got 3 hours of sleep that night. He went back and forth on whether he should confront Whitaker and say sorry in person, or act like nothing happened. He decided to confront him, he knew it would be too distracting otherwise.
Around 10 AM, he caught Whitaker in the ambulance bay. He was on his phone, Ogilvie wondered if he was texting the right number this time.
“I need to talk to you,” Ogilvie started, crossing his arms over his chest. Whitaker looked up at him through his lashes, barely turning his head up. Fuck.
“About the photo- photos.”
Dennis put his phone away, facing him, “yeah?”
“I’m sorry I sent that. I realize yours was meant for someone else. I shouldn't have sent that.”
He flushed, turning his head away
“It's alright, don’t worry about it.”
Santos stuck her head out of the ambulance bay doors, pausing a second to look at the two, “Al-Hashimi’s asking for you”
“Yeah, coming” Whitaker began to move back inside, but not before giving Ogilvie’s arm a squeeze and saying “I’ll text you later”
Ogilvie heard santos and Whitaker's conversation heading back inside,
“About what?”
“Classwork. What’s Al-Hashimi need me for?”
Their conversation left Ogilvie’s earshot.
The amount of confidence Whitaker had in that encounter gave Ogilvie a head rush. And he said he’d “text him later”. And he lied about it. God. Ogilvie had to press the heels of his palms onto his eyes, willing himself to not pop a boner at work.
***
He managed the rest of the day without incident, avoiding Whitaker as much as he could. He managed to stick himself with Langdon most of the shift, he was easier to be around.
After shift, he went to the lockers, Dennis was changing his shirt, he glanced at Ogilvie, smiled, then continued.
James stared at him, his mouth going dry. He noticed the lack of surgery, peach-toned kinesiology tape there instead. James had worked with it before, it could be difficult. It stuck to itself and you needed a decent technique to apply it properly. Dennis was probably good with it. Probably had been using it for years, was able to remove it painlessly. Taking it off too quickly would irritate the skin. Ogilvie thought about pressing down on that raw skin with his thumbnail, Dennis whining with that pain.
“What?”
Ogilvie closed his mouth. “It’s applied well. Really- smooth.” He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Uh. thanks.” Dennis nodded back at him, offering an awkward smile. He looked vaguely bashful, reluctant but willing to take that compliment. It was endearing. Cute.
Ogilvie closed his locker and pushed past Dennis, mumbling an “ok, bye.”
***
James spent his time since leaving work checking his phone. Some sort of clarification? Apology? Instead, he got another photo. This one decidedly less explicit, though the fact he knew it was meant for James this time did a lot for him.
It was Dennis standing in his bathroom, a selfie in the mirror, his face cropped out. His shirt was off, showing a different color of tape. It was blue this time.
(9:00 PM) WHITAKER: good application?
He whined involuntarily. There was no logical reason for this to be hot. It's not like he could see anything substantial, his stomach was the most explicit part of the photo. But the idea Dennis was willing to share this, even just to tease him, was kind of a lot. He didn't know if it was something actually vulnerable for Dennis or not, but it really felt like it was. James didn't answer for a couple minutes, studying the photo.
(9:02 PM) OGILVIE: Yeah
(9:02 PM) OGILVIE: I like it
(9:02 PM) WHITAKER: show me
James shivered a little. He could be oblivious but he wasn't stupid. He flipped to the front camera and took another photo of his clothed erection.
(9:04 PM) OGILVIE: [attachment]
(9:04 PM) OGILVIE: Good?
(9:04 PM) WHITAKER: mhm
(9:04 PM) WHITAKER: u follow directions well
(9:06 PM) WHITAKER: u want another treat?
“A treat” James felt like a dog.
(9:06 PM) OGILVIE: Yes
(9:07 PM) WHITAKER: send me a picture of urself naked
(9:07 PM) WHITAKER: it can just be ur bottom half. i need to know if ur worth my time lol
James felt like he was dreaming. He had to be. The disparity between how Dennis acted around everyone else and the way he talked to James was straight from his fantasies. He wasted no time in shucking off his clothes and snapping yet another photo. His cock was leaking onto his stomach. He can't recall a time he's been this turned on before.
(9:08 PM) OGILVIE: [attachment]
(9:08 PM) OGILVIE: It's ok?
(9:09 PM) WHITAKER: yes
(9:09 PM) WHITAKER: good job baby
(9:10 PM) WHITAKER: find me after shift tmrw
Fucked. James was so fucked.
***
James spent the next shift on edge. He kept startling and tried to avoid Dennis when he could. It's not that he was reluctant, but he knew being around Dennis too much would just work him up. He had a hard time sleeping that night as well, nerves frayed in anticipation.
He had virtually no experience with sex. James knew a lot of people didn't like him, he could live with that. He's tried acting nice and shy and it's more trouble than it's worth. It just means he's spent most of his life imaging stuff like this happening to him. So Dennis seemingly taking pity on him felt like a miracle. Something one in a million. He couldn't mess this up.
He didn't notice the glances Dennis gave him throughout the shift. Or tried not to, at least.
That is of course until around 4 PM in the break room.
He entered the room and saw Dennis sitting at the table, turned on his heel, and made for the door again.
"You don't have to be scared of me y'know," Dennis began
"I'm not." Ogilvie stood facing away, clenching and unclenching his fist.
"Come sit,"
James obeyed without hesitation, now sitting across from Dennis. He crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding eye contact with Dennis.
"Do you feel bad for me?" James blurted out, leg now bouncing incessantly.
"What?" Dennis looked a little shocked.
"Did you mean to send that message- picture the other day? The first one."
"Well uh- kind of?"
James made eye contact with Dennis now, "that doesn't even make sense. It's yes or no."
Dennis took a moment to pause and look James up and down. He looked appalled.
"I have a patient." Dennis stood up and started for the door
"Wait-" James followed after him
"I'll text you, okay?" Dennis offered a small smile and scurried away.
***
(6:32) WHITAKER: do u live alone?
(6:32) OGILVIE: Yes
(6:32) OGILVIE: Why?
(6:35) WHITAKER: I have to stay a little late today. give me ur address and ill be there at 9
Images of a pissed off Dennis flooded James mind. Not that he enjoyed seeing him upset, he just wondered what the consequences would be. Wondered if Dennis would take the time to go into the bedroom or just do it right in the living room. He gave Dennis his address.
The last 30 minutes of shift were a blur, he was grateful for once they were so busy. He saw Whitaker give him a small smile as he left. Javadi was sitting next to Whitaker, looking back and forth between them.
***
When James got home he was hard, already about to lose it out of a combination of excitement and fear. He elected to spend the rest of the wait cleaning instead of jacking off.
8:45 now, the sun setting on the horizon. Summertime only extending how long the days last. The whole apartment is clean. There's no more chores left to do. James needed some fresh air before this.
He stood outside his apartment building. Took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“Hey.” Whitaker was suddenly in front of him.
“You’re early” James backs up a little.
“Yeah.” Dennis nodded awkwardly. He was still in his scrubs. Now with a red hoodie tied around his waist and a backpack slung over his shoulder. He motioned for the building and they started walking.
“You have tomorrow off?” Dennis asked casually, walking alongside James.
“Yes. I have 2 days off”
“Good.”
They spent the rest of the walk in silence. Dennis’ hand occasionally brushed James’, James willed himself to not flinch away.
***
“What are you gonna do to me?” James asked once they were inside. He hoped he didn't look as pathetic as he sounded.
Dennis chuckled a little at the phrasing, “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. I’m ok with anything.”
“We’ll see.” Dennis walked towards James
James walked backwards into the couch, ungracefully falling into a sitting position. Dennis stood over him.
“If you want me to stop, just say it or tap me twice, ok?”
“Ok.” James mumbled.
“What was that?”
“I said ok.” He snapped a little.
“I'm not putting up with that attitude. Be nice, ok? Don't test me.”
“Yes, sir.” James flushed, looking up at Dennis.
Dennis beamed at the honorific, he looked proud of himself. He sat down next to James, putting a hand on his knee
“See, you listen well. You just need some correction.”
“Uh-huh” James was shaking a little, hands still planted at his sides.
“Are you scared?”
James shook his head ‘no’, staring at the floor. Talking was getting harder and harder as the night went on. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.
Dennis gave his knee a comforting squeeze before climbing into his lap. James hesitated, hands frozen in the air. Dennis took them and placed them on his own hips, then took James face in his hands.
Dennis exuded an air of confidence when interacting with James, but James could still feel his heartbeat quicken. Not that James was better off, his cheeks flushing red. Dennis led him into a kiss, much sweeter than he had expected he'd receive. Dennis’ hands led down from his face to his neck, thumb pressing into his carotid artery. He knew that wouldn’t actually be enough to slow down the flow of blood, but he still felt dizzy.
Dennis pulled away from the kiss, making eye contact with James. He tightened the grip on his neck, now pressing down into it with his thumbnail.
“You like that?” Dennis asked, he loosed his grip then squeezed once quickly, a perverted imitation of his earlier, more comforting touches. James whimpered a little and he couldn't focus on maintaining that eye contact anymore.
“Answer.” Dennis' hands moved back to James’ face, forcing him to look up at him again.
“Yes sir.” James whispered. His voice sounded rough and hesitant. He knew he was straining against his jeans now.
“Good girl.” Dennis smiled down at him, cutting off his responding moan with another kiss.
James had virtually no experience with sex, everything he knew about what he enjoyed was almost purely discovered on his own. He knew being talked down to was hot. He was vaguely aware of feminization but never looked much into it or considered it as something he would like. But God. This sick combination of humiliation and submission nearly caused him to finish right there.
He had to grab Dennis' shoulders and pull him back.
“Wait– sorry,” James was panting.
Dennis looked a little surprised, but waited for James to catch his breath.
“That was. It was really hot.” He settled on. He felt acutely aware of Dennis’ predatory look now.
Dennis ground his hips down, giving either of them the first friction since they started this whole ordeal. James gasped at that, tears brimming in his eyes.
“Fuck, Whitaker, I can’t–”
Dennis kept moving his hips, practically humping at James now. He felt all of his self-control dissolving right there. That white hot coil in his gut getting tightened past any point of return.
“It’s ok, pretty girl, you can come.”
And James did just that, all too quickly. The grasp on Dennis’ shoulders tightened, pushing them together even closer. Dennis kept moving as James moaned. He sobbed when he came, still fully clothed and sitting on the couch.
His own hips stuttered under Dennis’ weight. Tears tracing down his own face as his breathing hitched then evened out.
He released Dennis’ shoulders from his grip, sinking back into the couch, mouth agape in awe. Looking up at what felt like some sort of divine blessing. Dennis grinned widely, his own face pink, pupils blown out. He leaned down to lick the tears threatening to stain James’s cheek and neck. He gave James another open-mouthed kiss, this one more tender than the last. He could taste the salt on Dennis’ tongue.
Dennis pulled back, petting at James’ hair,
“Good?”
James hummed in contentment, his mind a lot more quiet than when they started. Then when he started messaging Dennis. Then the past few years, in all honesty.
Dennis maneuvered off of James and grabbed his backpack,
“You didn't finish,” James sat up
“That's ok. You can make it up to me next time” he leant down and gave James a kiss on the forehead. Next time.