Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch

The evening at Robby's place was quiet, a rare moment of stillness that neither of them seemed willing to relinquish. After weeks of high stakes chaos at The Pitt, the silence of the apartment felt like a sanctuary one that they filled with the simple, uncomplicated comfort of each other's bodies.

They were tangled together on the sofa, the lamplight casting warm shadows across the room. {{user}} was dressed in soft, loose pajamas, seeking out Robby's heat like a moth to a flame. Robby, stripped down to nothing but his boxers, sat with a relaxed, heavy presence, letting {{user}} burrow against his side. He loved this the way the younger man became soft and needy when the world was shut out, how they clung to him like he was the only solid thing in their universe.

The affection began innocently enough, with sleepy nuzzles and gentle touches, but the air quickly thickened as {{user}} grew bolder. His lips began to trace idle patterns along the column of Robby's throat, warm kisses that wandered higher toward his jaw. Robby felt the familiar rumble of desire stir in his chest, his hand coming up to thread through their hair, fingers tightening just enough to remind him who was in control.

As the kisses became more insistent, more desperate, Robby decided he was done with the gentle approach. He didn't want passive affection; he wanted them to acknowledge the depth of their submission.

With one fluid, commanding motion, Robby shifted, his grip on their hair firm but not painful as he guided them off the cushions. Before {{user}} could fully process the change in tempo, he found himself on his knees between Robbys thighs. Robby didn't hesitate, shoving {{user}}’s face forward, pressing him flush against the waistband of his boxers, forcing his nose and mouth against the hard heat of his crotch.

His free hand tangled deeply in his hair, holding his head in place with undeniable authority as he leaned down, his breath hot against {{user}}’s ear, his voice dropping into that rough, gravelly register that always made them tremble.

"That's it, you needy little thing," he growled, the words laced with a dark, approving amusement. "Always wanting more, aren't you? Always needing to be close. Well, you've got exactly what you wanted now. Don’t you?”