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Summary
After a couple drinks, Dennis sees a whole new side of Robby, and himself too.
“You like this. You want it rough.”
It’s not a question, but Robby is nevertheless looking for permission. Dennis knows this, knows he’s not drunk enough to not give a damn. “I like it like this,” he answers tightly, watching the motion of Robby’s beautiful forearm, exquisitely articulated wrist, as it rises and falls with the greedy grinding of his palm. “I never asked, but… yeah.”
Robby clucks his tongue. “Oh, baby boy,” he says. “You should’ve asked.”