Chapter Text
“Nope,” Dennis says flatly one Sunday night, not looking up from where he’s sprawled across the couch with his laptop balanced precariously on one knee. “You want ice cream you can get it yourself, old man.”
Robby, sunk deep into the opposite corner beneath a blanket he claims not to need, turns his head slowly. “I had a fourteen hour shift.”
“And yet your legs remain functional, you’re a medical miracle.”
Robby says nothing after that. Just keeps looking at him. And then, very deliberately, he does it; the deeply unfair expression he gets when he’s tired. Eyes a little heavy, mouth softening at the corners and something quietly plaintive beneath all the usual authority.
Like a dog abandoned in the rain outside a hardware store.
Dennis shuts the laptop slowly, rolling his eyes. “Anyone ever told you you can look like a kicked puppy sometimes?”
Robby blinks. “I beg your pardon, Whitaker?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m not sure I did, actually.”
Dennis points at him lazily from across the couch. “That face you just did.”
“Pfft. I made a face because my deeply uncharitable partner won’t do something nice for me.”
“No, no, see, you think that’s what happened.” Dennis narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “But what actually happened is you looked one gentle breeze away from following me home and learning commands for treats.”
Robby stares at him.
Dennis stares back.
Something strange flickers between them.
And Dennis, a terrible person with catastrophic impulse control, presses directly on the bruise.
“You know,” Dennis says slowly, “if I whistled right now, I genuinely think you’d come sit at my feet.”
Robby’s eyebrow lifts, but there’s colour climbing faintly into his cheeks now. “Yeah, yeah. Joke’s over.”
“That wasn’t even an insult,” Dennis says, fascinated. “You’re getting all weird about it.” His eyes narrow. “Hmm.”
Robby huffs loudly. “God. 'Hmm', what?”
“You like it.”
Robby scoffs instantly, too quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, no, hold on,” Dennis is smiling softly now, delighted in that dangerous sharp-toothed way he gets when he uncovers something hidden. “You’re blushing, Robinavitch.”
“I don’t blush, I’m a fifty three year old man.”
“And currently one compliment away from needing your ears scratched.”
Robby’s voice comes out lower when he says, “You’re reading an awful lot into a conversation about ice cream.”
Dennis hums casually. “Am I though?”
“Yes.”
Dennis watches him carefully and Robby doesn’t meet his eyes again immediately. He’s looking at the couch cushion instead, jaw tight in that way he gets when he’s trying not to visibly react to something.
Dennis has seen that expression in bed before. Seen it when Robby’s trying not to melt under praise. Trying not to lean too hard into care, into being handled. The realisation slides into place with terrifying smoothness and Dennis’s tone changes without him fully meaning it to.
“I think you’d be a really good puppy,” he says.
Robby exhales once through his nose, slow enough that Dennis can practically see him recalibrating around it. “You’re talking shit now,” Robby mutters.
“Oh, you definitely liked that one.”
Robby drags a hand down his face. “Den.”
Dennis can practically feel the moment the dynamic shifts under them. Robby continues, carefully neutral, “Jesus...what exactly is it you’re imagining here?”
“Oh,” Dennis says softly, delighted. “You wanna hear about it, do you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Dennis grins, then lets his voice go warm and low and unbearably fond without meaning to. “I think,” he says, “you’d like someone telling you what to do. Where to sit. Giving you treats. Telling you you’ve done good.” His eyes flick meaningfully toward Robby beneath the blanket. “Think you’d melt if somebody scratched your hair and called you a good boy after a bad shift.”
Robby closes his eyes.
“C’mon,” Dennis says quietly. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
Robby exhales hard through his nose. “Dennis, stop.”
Dennis shifts a little closer across the couch cushions before he can stop himself. Robby’s still curled under the blanket, broad shoulders tucked inward in a way Dennis almost never sees. Except his ears are red now.
Christ.
Dennis feels something hot and fond unfurl inside his ribs.
“You’d absolutely melt,” he says, gentler now, like he’s talking to something skittish. “You come home exhausted and somebody puts you on the couch and scratches your hair and tells you you’ve been good all day?” He smiles helplessly. “You’d be gone.”
Robby presses the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Can we please not do this,” he mutters. “I actually cannot talk about this.” He then makes a noise somewhere between a groan and an actual whine, then drops his face fully into his hand.
“…did you just whine, Robby?”
“I’m going to bed.”
“No, no, absolutely not, get back here.” Dennis is openly laughing now, warmth spilling through every word. “You can’t accidentally whine at me during a conversation about being a puppy and then leave the scene of the crime.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Robby groans, standing quickly without looking up.
Dennis blinks and his eyes drop before he can stop them.
Oh.
Oh, fuck yes.
Robby must realise the exact second Dennis figures it out, because his entire body locks up. Slowly, disastrously slowly, Dennis looks back up at him.
“Don’t,” Robby says immediately.
Dennis stares at him in utter wonder. “You got hard?” His tone softens instantly when he sees genuine embarrassment flash across Robby’s face. “No, hey. Hey.”
Robby still won’t look at him and Dennis’s chest goes painfully warm.
“Oh you sweet fucking thing,” Dennis cooes before he can stop himself. “You like it that much, hm? C’mere,” He says quietly, patting the couch cushion beside him.
After a long second, Robby actually comes back. Still red-faced. Still refusing eye contact. Still visibly hard beneath the blanket in a way that feels almost absurdly vulnerable somehow. When Robby finally sits down beside him, Dennis says nothing clever this time.
Just reaches out carefully and slides his fingers into Robby’s hair. Robby exhales a slow, wrecked sound like tension finally giving way somewhere deep inside him. Dennis strokes gently through his hair once. Twice.
Then says quietly, impossibly fond, “Oh babe,” he murmurs. “I’m definitely gonna make you my good boy.”
Dennis is halfway through reorganising Robby’s kitchen when the package arrives.
The knock at the door nearly gets ignored until he remembers he ordered something three days ago at two in the morning after falling into an internet rabbit hole titled things like best collars for comfort and how to introduce puppy play.
The box is smaller than he expected, Dennis simply stares at it for a solid ten seconds once the door closes. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is a collar. Soft black leather. Matte silver buckle. Clean stitching. Simple enough to pass as ordinary if you didn’t know better.
Immediately, helplessly, he pictures it around Robby’s throat.
The thought hits like a struck match.
He takes three pictures before deciding the second one is best: the collar draped across his thigh against the dark fabric of Robby’s shirt, silver buckle catching the apartment light.
He stares at the message box for a long moment.
Then types:
Dennis
so hypothetically
if someone had ordered something for their boyfriend
and hypothetically it arrived today
how much trouble would that someone be in
He attaches the photo before he can overthink it.
Robby
oh jesus fucking christ Den. Why would you send me this while I’m at work?
Dennis snorts aloud.
Dennis
it’s really nice
Really soft
Robby
Not helping.
Dennis
i got a plain one on purpose
didn’t want you feeling ridiculous
Robby
NO MORE PICTURES, you know the walls have eyes here.
Dennis
Do you want to try it out tonight???
Robby
Den
Dennis
c’mon
do you want to try it or not?
Robby
I’m attempting to formulate a response that preserves at least a fragment of my dignity.
Dennis
take your time champ
Robby
Do not “champ” me.
Dennis
Sorry sorry
Take your time my good boy
Robby
Jesus Christ.
Dennis
:D
Dennis
Robbyyyyy
Robby
I don’t know what this means yet.
Dennis
it doesn’t have to mean anything huge
we can literally just try the collar on and see how it feels
Robby
And if I like it too much?
Dennis
then i take care of you about it
answer the question
Robby
Yes.
Dennis
yes what?
Robby
Yes, I want to try it.
Dennis
💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉