h4sturdancer1
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Dennis Whitaker goes to a Halloween party. Robby & Abbot see him dressed as a slutty cowboy and decide they need to take him home
Bookmarked by h4sturdancer1
21 Jun 2026
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Dennis takes a deep breath in to calm himself, but as he breathes out, he confesses, “Trinity made a bet with Samira that I could get anyone in the bar to buy me a drink because I kind of have a knack for it, but Samira chose you, and now they’re watching us, and I’m so sorry.”
His boss blinks at him a couple of times, probably figuring out the least problematic way to fire him or berate him for being so damn unprofessional. He should’ve just said no to Trinity and Samira and killed the vibes for the night; he’d prefer that to whatever Robby is about to say. He can already see the anger bubbling up inside him that’s going to—
“I’ll buy you a drink.”
Dennis stares at him, unblinking. After a few seconds, he manages to ask, “What?”
“I’ll buy you a drink,” Robby repeats, then leans over to pat the bar stool next to him. “But you’re going to have to earn it.”
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Or, Dennis tries every trick in the book to get Dr. Robby to buy him a drink and to stay.
Bookmarked by h4sturdancer1
21 Jun 2026
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Nothing seemed amiss earlier, and if anything, Dennis was in a better mood than usual today.
Now, smelling Dennis’ musk all over his cotton pillowcase, Robby knows why.
Series
- Part 2 of twitter drabbles
Bookmarked by h4sturdancer1
05 Jun 2026
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In hindsight, Dennis probably shouldn't have drank 2 whole glasses of water when he knew there was a highly likely chance that Robby would want to fuck him after dinner.
In his defence, he also didn't expect Robby to want to fuck him so soon after dinner.
But Robby was now balls deep, and Dennis really needed to pee.
Bookmarked by h4sturdancer1
05 Jun 2026
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“Tough shit, brother. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”
The “game” being who, between Jack and Robby, would have the most patients with foreign objects lodged in their asses this holiday season. Jack eked out the win with 21; Robby only had 17.
“It’s not fair,” Robby grumbled. “No one’s trying to get it on at 11 in the morning. That's the kind of shit you do after the sun goes down.”
Jack shrugged. “You agreed to the terms and conditions. Here, turn around, let me get the back.”
The “prize” that Robby won stared at him in the mirror as Jack zipped up the back of his costume. It was the annual PTMC holiday/new year’s party (lumped together, because they couldn’t be fucked to have two separate parties, and it was cheaper), and Robby would be attending dressed as Santa Claus. The scratchy white beard was practically suffocating him, and the shiny red fabric of the coat and pants was stretched tight across his arms, stomach, and thighs.
Bookmarked by h4sturdancer1
05 Jun 2026