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Dennis had stopped pretending to understand how Robby could get more handsome overnight. It was absurd - and Dennis prided himself on being a rational man, someone who believed in logic and medical science, in proof and data and all that sterile, measurable stuff. But there was no scientific explanation for waking up each morning beside his alpha and finding his chest a little broader, his beard a little thicker, his face somehow softer and sharper at once.
The air always smelled like him: smoky, musky, something warm and sharp that lived under Dennis’s skin even when he was halfway across the apartment. Robby’s scent clung to the sheets, to Dennis’ shirts, to the inside of his wrists where the Alpha had marked him just enough to remind him who he belonged to, without ever making it a cage.
They’d been together for only a few weeks, living together for a few days, and somehow, he found Robby more attractive every single day. It was funny. The omega wasn’t new to love - he’d been in relationships before - but this thing with Robby had rewired him. He was obsessed. The worst part was that Robby didn’t even have to try. He was that in love. Yeah, he knows.
They worked in the same ER, endured the same endless shifts, saw the same traumas and heartbreaks, and yet, when they clocked out and walked home, it was like they entered a different timeline - one where Robby made dinner shirtless and Dennis forgot that he’d ever been tired.
Tonight was one of those nights.
After a grueling shift (four traumas, a code blue, and changes of scrubs), they’d agreed to join the others for a drink. The crew's idea of winding down was a noisy bar, sticky floors, horrible lighting, and a competition to see who could act the least professional. Dennis wasn't complaining, not when Robby stuck like glue against his side in the corner booth, body half-melting.
He really, really loved the way Robby touched him in public - subtle, grounding, and a pinch of possessiveness. A hand on his thigh under the table. Fingers tracing his lower back as they crowd into each other's space.
When Dennis started to sway a bit and slur his words, he heard the voice, “You’re such a lightweight, baby,” Robby murmured against his ear.
The omega rolled his eyes, blushing slightly. “I’m really not -”
But the alpha was already taking his glass, setting it aside with that quiet, infuriating confidence that made Dennis weak. Slow, smug, and God, so gentle about it.
Santos groaned loudly. “Get a room.”
Langdon gagged on his drink. “Please don’t. Not again.”
Dennis leaned into the man, heat pooling low in his gut. That voice. That scent. He swore Robby could talk him into anything if he said it close enough. The others were loud, drunk, and easy. Santos suggested a game of Never Have I Ever, and the crew broke into protests.
“Ugh, what are we, teenagers?”
“Well,” Langdon grinned, “we’re certainly acting like it.”
The game began either way, and Dennis couldn't care less. It was stupid confessions, silly ones, dirty ones, ones that Dennis wishes he could erase from his mind because he did not need to know how freaky the doctors were.
The omega didn't bother participating. He was too busy tracing patterns on the back of Robby’s hand where it rested on his thigh, feeling the tendons flex and relax under his fingers, admiring the decorative silver rings the alpha liked to put on after work. Then came the question that snapped him out of his blissed-out haze.
“Never have I ever liked eating the box,” Frank said, slurring but grinning wickedly.
Laughter and groans exploded around the table.
“Jesus, man, phrasing,” Someone coughed, nearly spitting their drink.
Dennis might have cringed too, except -
Clink.
Robby tilted his head back and downed his whole drink.
Dennis blinked. Oh.
His mind spun. He should’ve felt territorial - that primal, protective edge omegas got when faced with reminders of their Alpha’s past. But he didn’t. Instead, he imagined it - Robby’s mouth and focus locked between someone's thighs, turned toward someone else. The thought should have burned. It didn’t. Because the 'someone' would always be Dennis. Robby's attention will forever be on him, and nobody else will come after him.
No, he was thinking something completely different. The fact that Robby liked eating pussy, was apparently a pro at doing it too (judging by the confidence rolling off him), was swarming the nasty, deep-wrenched part of his mind. The thought of wetting the alpha's beard, his hands firm on his hips, the same steady, worshipful focus Dennis saw every morning, every night -
Heat shot through him so fast it almost hurt. He pressed closer to Robby’s side, letting himself breathe in the full weight of that scent until it blurred the edges of his thoughts. More laughter and drinks were passed around until they all felt drained. By the time they stumbled home, Dennis knew the image of wetting the alpha's beard was a one-time thing. He wouldn't, couldn't, and shouldn't think about it again.
---
Spoiler alert: he thought about it again. Not just once but multiple times. His eyes always caught on Robby’s mouth. The curve of it as he smiled, the drag of his beard when he rubbed a hand over his jaw. The image from last night flickered up before he could stop it: Robby tipping his head back, the gleam of his throat, the way his scent lingered.
Dennis heard from people that he wasn't the 'everyday omega'. He was still shorter than most, but his shoulders were broader, muscles on him that repulsed certain alphas (good fucking riddance, he thinks), and his scent wasn't considered 'sweet'. It was more minty and earthy. But even so, he sure hoped his scent didn't give off the words of 'I never got eaten out before, but I heard you liked doing it so maybe I can ride your face -' Yeah. That's too embarrassing.
The start of their relationship was a bit... awkward, with gentle touches in bed and light scent-marking. Not that Dennis was complaining, he loved the way Robby treated him, but with the discovery of the alpha's sexual interest, the omega was monomaniacal.
It all comes to a head one night when Dennis walks into the living room and finds Robby stretched out on the couch, half-reclined, thumb absently flicking the remote.
He wasn’t wearing much - just boxers and a loose white tee. The sight shouldn’t have done anything unusual to Dennis, but it did. His pulse jumped, his breath caught, and his pheromones stirred restlessly, curling sweet and eager in the air before he could stop them. He swallowed hard, trying to rein it back in. Get it together.
He plopped next to the man and curled his legs up.
Robby’s arm came up automatically to rest on the back of the sofa, his scent rolling out in that steady, smoky wave that always hit Dennis square in the chest.
"Hey, sweetheart."
“Uhm, hi. What are you watching?”
“Some apocalypse series Jack told me to try.” Robby huffed. “Remind me to never take his recommendations. It’s terrible.”
Dennis snickered, a small, helpless sound. He turned his eyes toward the screen, and yeah, the show was just as bad as Robby said. It was some apocalyptic romance where the gun-slinging, badass heroine melts the second a brooding, half-dead guy carasses her face. Yeah, seemed about right.
No matter how shitty the show was, Dennis still edged closer to his alpha. He couldn't help it - the draw was instinctive. Robby doesn’t seem to mind; if anything, he seemed to get it, because a moment later, his arm slipped around Dennis’s waist, and the omega was practically in his lap. Robby smelled too good, all musk and cedarwood skin, the faint burn of need against his scent gland. It was addictive, dizzying.
God, he really hoped his own scent wasn’t screaming 'I want to ride your face and wet your beard -'. He groaned quietly, pressing his face into Robby’s shoulder. Yeah. Maybe stop thinking about it, Dennis.
The kiss scene arrived, and the omega groaned. The male lead leaned in and kissed the actress. It was clumsy and uncomfortable to the point where Dennis frowned, a quiet “Eugh” slipping from him before he could stop it.
Robby had seemed to agree with his thoughts, scoffing beside him. Dennis looked at the alpha and was reminded of all the times Robby had gotten him so wet just from kissing. It was such a stark contrast - what was real and what wasn’t. Robby’s kisses were nothing like the ones on screen; they left Dennis’ head spinning every time they pulled apart, saliva clinging to their lips, desperation and demand thick in Robby’s voice. When the omega grew tired and Robby’s grip on his waist tightened, pleading, “Please, baby, I need - I need to kiss you more, please -” it turned Dennis’ entire world upside down. The more he thought about it, the more he had to fight to control his scent and, shit, Dennis immediately squeezed his thighs together.
He shifted slightly, resting his chin on his knees, eyes still fixed on the screen.
The scene escalated fast. One moment, it was all suggestive glances, and the next, the male lead was already undressing the woman, kissing her lazily everywhere. Dennis rolled his eyes, half-horrorfied at how quickly it leapt from plot to porn. This was exactly why he found shows like this ridiculous. The setting was already far-fetched, but tossing in random sex scenes between characters with zero chemistry completely threw him off. What was even the point?
Like clockwork, the actor was going down on her, trailing down between her legs and eliciting high-quality moans from the actress. She let out a long, high moan that seemed to be out of her body - so good it almost defied how awkward it actually looked.
“Moans are really top-notch for such a mediocre experience.” The omega said.
“Really? You think so?” Robby asked, reaching out to rub his fingers across Dennis’ scent gland.
“I–Uh, I mean, there’s no way it could feel that good for her to be moaning like that.”
“Hm. It can feel like that. Once you have a partner who knows your body.” He shrugged casually, and Dennis’ brain just stopped working because this conversation was going exactly like the one he didn’t want to happen.
Dennis turned to look at him, “Is that how you know? Because you - you-”
Robby met his gaze and laughed, warm, his brown doe eyes shining like mischief and dread. “I eat it real good, sweetheart. You should know by the way I kiss you.”
Shit. Dennis thinks his heart swapped with his stomach or something. The omega swallowed hard, his gaze immediately drifting to Robby’s beard and lips. It was absurd. His thoughts spiraled around the messy line of hairs along Robby’s sharp jaw, the intense urge to run a hand through it, maybe tug at it. Wetting the beard, he recalled.
His eyes flicked back to the TV, where the girl was now fully into it, pulling and clamping her legs around the actor’s head. He bit his lip, inching closer into Robby’s scent, and made a vague gesture toward the screen. “I still don’t think it's – that’s impossible. I mean, they haven’t even had penetrative sex yet, and she’s acting like that.”
He declared it with hesitation; the truth was known to Dennis himself - he wouldn’t exactly know. Like he said, no one’s ever eaten him out before. Before Robby, flings had never been his thing. He had been confident in his transition, yes, but wary of any discrimination that might come from a one-night stand. Sure, he’d had past relationships, but they had been limited, grabby hands slipping under his shirt, lazy bathroom blowjobs, nothing more intimate than that. Nothing that truly reached him, nothing that left him feeling seen.
Then Robby came along and changed everything. The man who trailed kisses down Dennis’ chest scars, the man who took his time and never did anything he’s uncomfortable with. He remembered that night they fell into bed like white crystal:
("Robby, before we continue, I’m–” Dennis lets his boxers drop, clutching so hard at his palms they start to paint white. It’s silence, and he expects to meet with a fist, outrage, or disgust, just like his brothers – instead he’s met with a warm, large hand caressing his cheek.
“It really doesn’t matter to me, Dennis.” And his big, brown eyes are filled with love, tainted with passion and acceptance.
The omega blinks back his shock, “But I’m–”
“You’re still Dennis to me. Will always be and forever be.” He says, and Dennis falls back into his embrace, so easy and pliant because how could he not. It’s all he wanted. For the love of his life to accept him as he is.)
He really was the luckiest man alive.
Still, he’s pretty sure scenes like this were always exaggerated for the drama of it.
Robby seemed to notice the awkward silence too and immediately jumped in his seat, his wide, doe-eyed stare fixed on the man. “Dennis. Y-You mean, no one’s ever?- Never?”
Dennis shrugged; he knew his scent was warmer now, embarrassment flushing his body as he looked at Robby. “Y-yeah. I guess, I uh, never considered it. Is that, uh, something I should've done?"
Then the alpha leaned back slightly and cocks an eyebrow and hummed, “Fuck. Well, uh, not really? Just – you’re everything and you’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen so I thought–y’know - ”
Dennis blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His mind snapped back to the core of his thoughts: Robby was his alpha, commanding and cherishable in so many ways - but compliments like this still left him lightheaded, twisting desire through every nerve. His face betrayed little, but his body told another story entirely. His breathing stuttered, uneven, and he knew his scent was pouring out, strong and fiery, because Robby’s nostrils flared in response. Dennis thought, how the hell did we even get here?
Ah, right. Wetting the beard. Never have I ever. Top ten reasons why he wanted to ride his alpha's face into next Saturday. Right.
Robby exhaled, something between disbelief and arousal, a low sound that made Dennis’ skin prickle. The show was still running in the background, but it had long since faded into meaningless noise. Robby just nodded, staring off into nothing, his expression unreadable - and holy hell, the redolence protruding off him was huskier by the second, thick and heady, getting stronger and stronger and -
“Baby–”
“I wanna ride your face."
...
The words tumbled out before Dennis could stop them, and he instantly groaned inwardly. Perfect. He sounded desperate (which he was), but hearing that needy, breathy edge in his own voice made him feel exposed, raw. Pathetic, even.
He risked a glance at Robby, expecting maybe a smirk or some teasing comment - but froze instead. Robby wasn’t there anymore, not really. His pupils had dilated, black swallowing the brown of his eyes, and his scent —God, his scent— was everywhere, wild and unrestrained. It hit Dennis like a wave, dizzying and hot, crawling under his skin and lighting every nerve on fire.
“Fucking hell. Okay, okay, yeah,” Robby cleared his throat and then patted his thigh. “C’mere. Sit on my lap.”
Shit, he didn’t have to tell Dennis twice. The omega moved instinctively, straddling Robby’s leg and lowering himself onto the alpha’s thigh. The moment he settled, heat rushed to his face - he could feel how wet he was, slick against Robby's bare thigh, and it made his pulse trip over itself. But really, how could he not be? Robby was looking at him like the world started and ended with the omega. Like he might lose his mind if he couldn’t sink his fangs into Dennis’ scent gland right then and there. That look undid him every time.
One moment, they were breathing the same air, their faces barely an inch apart, and then Dennis closed the gap. Their lips met, and for a heartbeat, he could taste Robby’s surprise, the sharp intake of breath against his mouth. But Dennis didn’t stop; he leaned in harder, deepening the kiss, letting it turn messy, urgent.
Ever since the beginning of their relationship, Dennis had been addicted to the way Robby turned every kiss into a beautiful mess. It shouldn’t have surprised him how easily he melted for the alpha, how intoxicating it felt when Robby took what he wanted from his mouth, greedy and deliberate. Every time, it was more than Dennis thought he could give, and somehow, Robby always pulled even more out of him.
But he loved to fight the dominance of their kiss so, he tried harder, pushed forward, greedy to feel more of the softness that was his alpha’s mouth - he put everything into it, and very nearly fought his way into Robby’s mouth with his tongue, only for Robby to emit a deep growl at the back of his throat and his inner omega keens. The alpha's tongue was impossibly hot against his own, and both of them were so out of their minds that they didn't notice the kiss was getting wet and borderline disgusting. Or maybe they really didn't care because Dennis’ hands immediately went up to pass his fingers through Robby’s beard, tugging and gripping at it.
He felt Robby smirk into the kiss, and he pulled apart to trail kisses along the omega’s scent gland. “You’ve been thinking about my beard, haven’t you?” A deep, low voice, and Dennis shivered, shit, he wasn’t that obvious.
The alpha's fangs ghosted along Dennis’ collarbone, followed by slow, deliberate kisses down the curve of his neck. Again, Dennis wasn’t confident about his scent — he always thought it was too plain for an omega, not sweet enough — but then Robby’s voice rumbled against his ear, low and sincere: “You smell so good, Dennis.”
The words hit him hard. Something inside him cracked open, raw and aching, and before he could stop himself, Dennis ground down against Robby’s thigh. Ah. The friction made him gasp, every nerve alight. He could feel how wet he was, soaking through onto the alpha's thigh, and the feel of Robby’s thick cock against his knee was dizzying, almost cruel.
Much to his dismay, though, Robby jerked his thigh upward and applied more pressure to Dennis’ cunt.
“Come on baby, ride it,” Robby whispered, “I know you want to.” He presses a kiss to the pink patch of skin, right underneath Dennis' collarbone. It nearly sent his body into shock, and goosebumps immediately followed.
“But I want to - I -”
“I know what you want, but you can’t seriously expect me to dive right into it? I want this to be a good experience for you, so a little foreplay won’t hurt.” The alpha concluded.
So needy and desperate, Dennis didn't notice that he was continuing to do it. It was too much. He pushed down a little harder, grinding into the solid muscle, thin fabric creating even more leverage. His own underwear had become so coated in slick now that it hugged his pussy like a second skin.
He arched his back and made a small purr somewhere in the depths of his throat. It didn't sound sexy at all; it sounded more like he was broken, raw, and pleading.
Robby seemed to think the opposite because he egged it on, “Like that, blessing,” He tells him, “just like that.”
The alpha gripped his waist and kissed him again, and Dennis’ hands dropped from his beard to clutch around his shoulders because it’s so much, too much, so loud and greedy, and Dennis just wants –
He whined, tilting his head to show off his scent gland in the way he knows that drives his alpha fucking crazy, and batted his lashes sultrily. It did the trick because his alpha moaned and licked at his throat, smelling like pine and salt, faint cologne, something smoky.
“Fuck, you’re killing me.” His world was tilted sideways when Robby rearranged himself to lie down, and he forced Dennis to stand up.
“Pull your underwear to the side and come sit up on my face then.”
The moment he took his boxers off, slick trailing down his thighs and staining the material, he was manhandled onto the sofa again. He barely had time to grab the handle of the couch before he realized what was happening. Robby settled his own head on the cushion, arranging Dennis’ thighs on either side of his face, and then the omega looked down to see –- oh fuck.
“R-Robby! We can - uh, I can do the sixty-nine position – this is so – ” fucking embarrassing, he wanted to say. He knew for a fact that his blush ran down his body, into his inner thighs. His pussy was probably tainted red and rubbed raw from the grinding.
Robby didn’t seem to care; if anything, the sight only consumed him more. His gaze was locked between Dennis’ thighs, dark with pure want, so intent it made Dennis’ pulse stutter. Then he looked up, a sharp, knowing grin curving his lips as his hands tightened on the omega’s thighs.
"You said you wanted to ride my face, yet you're shy from this?"
"I know, but - nggh! -"
Dennis bit down on his lip, leaning forward to grip the arm of the sofa for balance. He couldn’t control the shiver that ran through him - not when Robby loosened his hold just long enough to press a slow, teasing kiss against the slick mess between his thighs. Stars burst behind his eyelids, his breath catching sharp in his throat. Holy fuck, he thought, dizzy. He hasn’t even really started yet.
“You’re literally dripping on my face. I can smell how turned on you are. Just - just let me have it, baby, please.” The alpha moaned.
Before he knew it, he was nodding and looking down at the man underneath him as he sank his thighs lower. Dennis gasped, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as two of Robby’s fingers slid between his folds, brushing over his cock in a slow, deliberate tease. A low sound rumbled from Robby’s chest, "Prettiest cock I've ever seen," and then - before Dennis could even catch his breath - he was spreading him open, tongue flicking against his swollen clit.
“Oh -- shit, Rob--!” The words tore out of him, raw and broken. His hand flew to the alpha’s hair, gripping tight as his hips moved on instinct, grinding down against the heat of his mouth. His thighs tightened around Robby’s head, trembling. The scrape of his beard against sensitive skin was perfect, just rough enough to make Dennis shudder, the coarse hairs sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve.
Robby had been right; he ate pussy the same way he kissed: slow, deliberate, every stroke of his tongue firm and precise, meant to unravel him piece by piece. Dennis’ knees always went weak from the alpha's kisses, so it was no surprise he was trembling now.
The alpha strained his neck, angling closer until he was fully buried between Dennis’ thighs. He dragged the flat of his tongue in one long, deliberate stroke -from clit to hole - before finding him so wet that he couldn’t resist pressing the tip of his tongue inside. A low, guttural moan vibrated from Robby’s chest at the taste of him - rich, intoxicating, the kind of pleasure Dennis knew he’d never get enough of, no matter how many times he had it.
He teased the hole a bit more, and the omega whined, low and crude in his bones.
“You moan so fucking pretty, ” the alpha said, making it sound like a complaint because Dennis knew he sounded ruined. “Shit, I could eat you out all fucking day. Pussy tastes too damn good.” He kissed the wet mess open-mouthed, pushing his tongue further in, lapping up so much. Dennis started to sob, tugging and panting for 'more and please', yet his alpha was giving him everything he could ever ask for.