A helluva shift in gears here, gang. This is a good chapter for all of y'all that are just here to read about Robbie and Pete doin' it.

It was around 9 o'clock on yet another cold Autumn night in the heart of Chicago.

The moon luminesced like a giant OR light in the sky.

The stars sparkled magnificently over the perpetually occupied streets of the Windy City.

And our beloved little surgical hero, Robert Romano, wanted to die.

It had been a full WEEK since his and Peter's previous discussion. A full week. That'd been the longest they'd gone since the very beginning. And, consequently, the bald surgeon was beginning to lose his fucking mind.

Granted, their prolonged time away from each other had been for a good reason. And no, it wasn't the old, clichè...downright IDIOTIC absence makes the heart grow fonder bullshit. Nor had they broken out into some bitter spat over something stupid and agreed to spend some time apart for a little while.

Nope. There had actually been a good reason behind their brief hiatus in their discussions. And they hadn't been completely devoid of absolutely any and all contact with each other whatsoever. They still had their moments in the hospital, during their shifts or on lunch breaks. A quick kiss between patients here, holding hands in the elevator there, and on occasion even some hot and heavy stuff in Romano's office that could have eventually led to one of the discussions the bald man had been craving so desperately. Had his pager not gone off, forcing him into the shitfest that was the ER, anyway.

And for now, nights were completely off the table, starting with the death of Peter's nephew; after which, the tall, handsome surgeon had insisted he stay with his sister for a while to make sure she and the rest of the family was okay.

And of course, while he may have been a bit of a prick, he wasn't completely unreasonable. And with that, he had encouraged Peter to take as much time as he needed, and that he was a grown man, able to spend a few nights by himself.

And, slowly, agonizingly slowly, a few cold nights became SEVEN cold nights. And, needless to say, Romano was going slightly mad.

And on that particularly cold, lonely night, our favorite little height-challenged surgeon lay back in his room, staring at his ceiling, simply wanting nothing more than for our other favorite surgeon, Peter Benton, to be there with him.

Well, to be more specific, he wanted Peter to be there with him, hold him in his big arms for a while, kiss him almost deep enough to make him die of oxygen deprivation, tear off his clothes and fuck him so hard his eyeballs went back into his skull.

Sure, he could always call Peter. In fact, he usually would call Peter at this time of night, just to hear his velvety, rich voice, if only over the phone. Usually, though, it would always make his situation worse, his ache for the man growing, his desire for him to be lying naked in his arms expanding exponentially. All it'd ever done is kept him up for another hour or so, or at least until he'd give up hoping and praying to Jesus, Hippocrates, Frank Sinatra—ANYBODY that the love of his life would just show up on his doorstep, shove himself inside the entrance of his home, and inevitably inside the entrance of HIM.

And that Benton was a sly bastard. Robert knew that the taller surgeon could tell how much their time apart was killing him. The lewd suggestions he'd make to Robert over the phone once he was sure nobody in his family had still been lingering in the room. The way he'd intentionally lower his voice to that rather delectable tone that drove Romano nuts, and never failed to make him squirm in his spot. He'd imagine the wanting that radiated from those dark eyes, like little pools of sweet maple syrup.

The bald man sighed, his eyes lingering on his reflection in that gigantic mirror over his large, yet lonely bed. He spread out all his limbs in an effort to make it seem less empty.

It didn't work, though. All he'd done was made himself realize just how short his legs were.

Of course, he wasn't completely alone in that big house of his. He still had Gretel, who had been wolfing down her dinner the last time he checked, down in his kitchen.

He sighed, looking down his own reflection, acknowledging a rather noticeable bulge that had sprung up from beneath his baggy sweatpants.

He supposed he could just take care of the unbearable tension within by himself. But it wouldn't be the same. It could never be the same as when he was with Peter, or even come close to being quite as satisfying. He could never touch himself the way Peter could.

Accepting his fate, he pulled himself off the bed, already starting towards his bedroom door, with every intention of hitting the linen closet before climbing into an ice cold shower, dissolving his painful desire for his handsome, burly lover.

"Jesus fuck!"

As soon as he'd opened the door to exit the room, he stumbled right back into it, nearly falling on his ass.

"You know, I'm really starting to hate it when you do that!" Romano yelled at the man, despite his previous wishes for this exact scenario. "How the hell did you even get in here, you creep?!"

"Oh, Dr. Romano, you of all people oughta be smart enough to know that hiding your spare keys under the doormat is never a wise choice."

Low and behold, the object of his imagination, Peter fucking Benton was standing there in his bedroom doorway.

And god damn it, did he look like a snack.

He leaned against the door frame of Romano's luxurious master bedroom, clad in bootcut jeans and his favored leather jacket. It was unbuttoned, and Romano could see his black tank top peeking out from underneath it, along with that thin gold chain he always wore around his neck. And he could tell by his hair that he'd just showered as it glistened in the light on account of its slight dampness.

And either there was a block of wood in his front pocket, or Peter was as happy to see him as he was to see Peter.

"I-...I thought you were with your sist—" Robert couldn't even finish his sentence before Peter had his mouth on him. The rest of his statement had been reduced to a soft moan as the man's tongue pushed into his mouth, taking his breath away. Hands gripped almost savagely at clothes as their tongues caressed each other, dueling for control over the other.

Benton pushed the bald man back, all the way back until he shoved him down onto the bed, clambering on top of him.

They finally broke apart for a moment as their lungs began to run out of air, panting and shaking from their heated efforts.

"She insisted she'd be alright tonight. Reese's uncle's got the night off." Peter rasped, pulling away for just long enough to convey that brief thought, before his lips immediately found Robert's again in another passionate kiss. Those large, strong hands of his hiked up the soft fabric of his nightshirt, relishing in the feeling of his warm freckled skin underneath his palms.

The bald man put a hand against Peter's warm chest, right around his sternum. The other man's heart raced against it, only feeding Robert's lavish excitement.

Peter broke the kiss again as his lips moved to his neck, tasting the sensitive skin there hungrily.

"Oh God, Dr. Benton..." Robert moaned, arching his back as Benton's hands found the sides of his sweatpants, pulling them down slowly. He tore his mouth away from the worked up surgeon's neck to pull them all the way off, leaving his lower half deliciously bare, save for his socks. He stood at the side of the bed, his eyes raking over the shorter man.

"Now that," Peter started huskily, those beautiful, honey colored eyes of his glued to Romano's thighs and erect member as he licked his lips. "Is a sight I've missed. So much..."

"Well Congratulations, Peter. You've got me right where you want me," Romano said lowly, his eyes boring into Peter's in a sultry glare. His cheeks were colored in a lovely crimson blush, the usual one that the other surgeon always inflicted on him when he even crossed his mind. His legs were spread slightly in anticipation, his rampant prick standing up against his lower abdomen.

"Now what do you want to do to me?" He finished softly, an alluring half smile covering his face, his gaze at Peter failing to break.

The tall, dark surgeon pulled off his leather jacket, and then his tank top, leaving his toned chest bare. He dropped the garments to the floor, gazing into the man's eyes lustfully. The sight was to Romano like a good hit of fentanyl was to Carter.

Benton climbed back onto the bed, kneeling between Romano's knees, his hands caressing the tender backs of each of them, rubbing them up and down gently.

He leaned down to give Romano a soft, loving kiss on the lips before he pulled away, looking into those coffee colored orbs.

"I want to make sweet, sweet love to you, Dr. Romano..." Benton purred as his eyes ran over his body once again. Peter was looking at him as if he were one of Carole Baskin's tigers and Romano was her now dead husband. "If it's alright, of course."

Romano moved his hands down to the hem of his own nightshirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it off the side of the bed.

"I'd say it's a hell of a lot more than alright Dr. Benton," he said, his tone dropping down low like it always did when Benton was around him, getting him feeling hot and worked up.

Romano reached his hands up to the belt that fastened around Benton's jeans, pulling the buckle loose deftly with his fingers. "In fact, as your boss, I'm telling you that if you don't let me take these off and fuck me senseless, you're fired." He unzipped the offending garment, working on pulling it down Benton's hips.

"With all due respect, Dr. Romano..." Peter murmured, pulling his jeans off, leaving just his socks on. His socks, and his boxers, the fabric of which was being stretched significantly by the sheer size of Peter's manhood. He stroked Romano's chest, gently playing with the soft auburn down there with his fingertips. The man sighed at his delicate touch. It seemed to feel brand new after being deprived of it for so long.

Benton pulled himself back over Robert again, giving him that intense stare with those riveting, cocoa colored eyes of his. He straddled the shorter man's hips, pinning him to the bed. His voice dropped down to an enticing whisper as he ran his thumbs along the soft grooves of Robert's hip bones.

"You're not the boss of me here."

He leaned down then, seizing Romano's kiss swollen lips, pushing his tongue back where it belonged. Peter's hands held his bald head in place, ravaging his mouth, causing him to moan loudly against him.

Romano pushed his his hips up towards Peter's bare abdomen, desperate for purchase against his neglected, untouched member. And whatever progress he made pushing his hips closer to Peter would be revoked when he pulled his body just slightly further from him, keeping him close, but not close enough to stroke against him.

Benton broke the kiss and moved one of his hands down to pinch Romano's ass hard, causing him to whine.

"Quit squirming around, or I'll stop..." the taller man warned, giving him an intense glare.

"You're never any fun, you know that Peter?" Romano griped, his hips still moving desperately to their own accord.

Peter sat back to look at Romano, putting his hands on his thighs. He rubbed them up and down, caressing the sensitive skin on the insides of them, his touch so close but yet so far from where Romano needed it most. He moved them up to his stomach, running them over the firm wall of muscle in his abdomen, toned from what Peter presumed had been some heavy lifting. Heavy lifting, or the weeks upon weeks worth of karate lessons he'd been taking since before they'd even shacked up.

It was probably the second action.

The bald man groaned, closing his eyes as he reveled in the sensation, desperately wanting more. Benton's hands went up his broad chest, stopping to trace his collarbones, then came back down again, grazing over his rib cage, his hips, everything except his hot, throbbing manhood. Precome oozed from its responsive pink tip, shimmering in the soft light of his bedside lamp as it beaded up. It ran down his shaft, making it glisten like an Olympic swimmer, fresh from the pool after a 4x100m relay.

The mere sight of it made Peter want to relinquish the control he'd established over the bald man and take all of him into his mouth, sucking so hard that he'd make the man's toes curl and his fists grip the sheets.

"Why do you hate me?" Robert moaned as Benton's fingers dexterously traced the V-lines in his hips.

"I don't hate you, Robert. I love you." Benton replied in that silky tone of his, earning an imploring look from the bald man. He leaned forward to press a kiss to his soft red lips, catching his bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle caress. The man beneath him hissed, squirming from the electric jolt that raced through his naked body, caused by such a simple action.

"Just be patient, and I'll show you how much I love you..." Benton murmured, pressing kisses against his sharp jawline, one of his favorite spots on the snarky bald surgeon to kiss. Well, favorite G-rated spots, anyway...

Robert moaned loudly as he moved lower, sucking gently on his Adam's Apple, feeling it bob up and down with each little noise that bubbled up from the back of the man's throat.

"Why can't you just drop the act and take me already?" He insisted, feeling just about ready to die again. "I swear to God, Peter. You're going to be the death of me..."

Benton pulled back to look at the man, smirking at his flushed skin and bare form, which shook incessantly from his raw, almost animalistic desire.

"If I took you now, I wouldn't get to see you like this..." he purred, taking in the sight of his boss, who lay there, desperate for his own subordinate to crawl between his thighs and pound him like two cellar doors caught in a hurricane.

Benton then lowered his head down, getting between the man's knees, kissing up the inside of his thigh. Romano threw his head back into his pillow, the feeling of the man's lips against his porcelain, freckled skin making him feel dizzy. As far as he was concerned, he could die right at that moment and be perfectly happy, just as long as the feeling of pure and utter bliss that only Peter invoked from him would be his final bodily experience.

Benton's soft, sensual kisses on his sensitive skin trailed up and up, up till his mouth met with the delicate pouch that hung beneath his tragically neglected length.

Romano grasped at the fabric of his sheets, gasping as Peter's tongue caressed his balls, sucking them into his mouth. His hands reached down, holding Peter's head as he ground his hips against his mouth, the feeling of his tongue dragging against his scrotum threatening to overwhelm him.

He moaned, pulling Peter's mouth closer to him.

"Oh God..." he whined as he spread his legs wider to the man. "Peter, love...please go higher."

The taller surgeon relented, pulling his head up, giving into temptation as his lips wrapped around Robert, the man's throbbing member hitting the back of his throat. He licked and sucked him clean of the salty, slick fluid, causing him to yell out.

Robert repeated Peter's name over and over, as if he were afraid he'd stop. The other surgeon might just have sniggered at the plea in the bald man's voice, had he not been so engrossed in the task at hand. At the moment, he was focused completely on turning his boss into a moaning, trembling mess.

"Ah God, Peter!" He cried as the other man's tongue circled the firm, sensitive tip of his member as fast as it could go. His main weakness when it came to their heated discussions.

"If you keep yelling like that, pretty soon your neighbors are gonna know my name..." Peter rasped after he'd pulled away, after Romano had gotten just a bit too close to his own climax. He licked his spent from his lips, savoring the taste.

He pulled himself off of Robert tentatively, fetching a small bottle of lubricant from the pocket of his leather jacket.

Benton planted himself back between Robert's legs, moving to squeeze some of the gel out onto his hand when the bald surgeon stopped him.

"Just give it to me now, Peter. I can take it." He rasped, urging the other man to push his length into him without any further hesitation.

"Robert, I don't want to hurt you..."

"You won't. Please Peter, just give it to me..." Robert begged. He pulled down the man's boxers, letting his erection spring free of the offending garment.

Romano ran his hand over Peter's length. It was thick, as hard as a rock, and uncut. His dark skin was hot against his palm, only causing his excitement to grow from all encompassing to almost unbearable.

And Peter didn't stop Romano, even when he moved to pull the bottle from his hand, squeezing some out onto his knob. The other surgeon groaned, throwing his head back as Romano moved his hand along the length of his engorged prick, up and down, until it produced a glint with its slickness, reflecting the soft light from the man's bedside lamp.

Benton spread Romano's legs even wider, lining himself up with the man's tight entrance. He got up on his knees between the man's legs, holding onto the dark oak wood headboard at the top of the man's bed. Romano only spread his legs wider in anticipation, his hands seeking out the man's soft, dark skin, running them up and down his sides, willing him on.

Slowly, painstakingly slowly, Benton pushed himself into Romano, stretching him. He moaned loudly with each inch that glided into him. A divine sort of stinging pain came to his attention, the consequence of his lack of preparation mixing with the blinding pleasure derived from Benton's member sliding against his prostate.

Robert raked his nails across the expanse of Benton's warm, brown skin, trailing from the back of his ribcage all the way to his stomach, just below his chest. Before long, the tall man had his member all the way inside of him, his balls pressed tightly against Robert's backside.

"Are you all right?" Benton asked him, taking one hand off the bed frame to stroke Romano's cheek, looking into his eyes, lust mixing with concern as he gauged the man's reaction.

"I will be, as long as you quit worrying and fuck me." Robert growled, dragging Peter closer to him on the bed by his waist.

The brawny top returned his other hand to the wooden headboard, bracing himself against it with his strong, muscular arms as he began to thrust, slowly and steadily in and out of Robert's clenched entrance.

The bald man moaned loudly, spreading his legs wider to the man, wrapping them around him to draw him closer. His hot, freckled skin was damp with perspiration, and the sensation radiating from his pelvis all the way up his body. He felt like he could melt from the inside as Peter sped up.

Every jolt of the man's hips sent sparks up Robert's spine.

"Harder, Peter..." he whimpered, his hands gripping the man's hips as he hammered against his prostate. The force of his pounding into the man soon caused the bed to creak as he sped up even more.

Robert's eyes wandered upward, where he'd been looking not 20 minutes beforehand. He took in the picture depicted through their reflection. The sight of Peter's perspiring, strongly built form moving against him captivated him fully. His broad, robust shoulders were tense as he put all of his focus into pleasing the man, putting his strength to good work as he continued to rock him harder and harder with each sharp thrust.

He took a glance at his own reflection, blushing hard as he looked at himself, his legs spread wide open, his face reddened to a point he'd never previously thought possible. And his eyes. He'd never seen so much unrestrained sexual desire in anyone's eyes as long as he'd lived, let alone is own coffee colored globes.

His eyes flicked back to Peter, his beautiful, muscular body connected perfectly with his own.

Sensing that the man was slightly distracted, Peter followed Robert's eyes to where he was looking at their naked, entwined bodies.

"God, you look amazing when you've been pumped full of cock..." The darker surgeon noted breathlessly, the image in the mirror like smooth champagne to his eyes. His words just made Romano blush even more.

The shorter surgeon let out several desperate, breathy little moans as Peter sped up, his thrusts shifting to a new angle, one that caused his rock hard member to hit that responsive bundle of nerves perfectly, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"Of course, you'd only ever look this good pumped full of my cock..." he groaned, taking his hands off the headboard and gripping Romano's hips, picking up on how the new angle was effecting him so. Romano's hot red blush had spread to his ears, even hitting some of his neck as Peter drove him into oblivion, his hips caught in a vice like grip in Peter's hands.

"Peter..." he moaned out loudly, his eyes slamming shut as Peter's member stroked harder and faster against his prostate. His own member throbbed at the tip, and he began to stroke it to the frantic, yet controlled rhythm of Peter's bucking hips.

"With all due respect, Dr. Romano, I don't want to see you going to anybody else for this kind of treatment. Ever..." he continued. He stopped his movements abruptly, causing Romano to whimper as he was pulled back from the edge yet again. Peter took Romano's wrist in a tight grip, keeping him from rubbing at his own swollen manhood. His other hand found his jaw, tilting his head upward to make him look straight into his eyes.

"Peter!" He cried, his muscles clenching around the man's turgid penis. His hands gripped at Benton's own hips, nails digging into the sides of them in an attempt to get him moving again.

Benton pinned himself over Romano then, his hands on both of his wrists, holding them in a tight grasp on either side of his bald head. He remained on his knees though, with Romano's legs wrapped tightly around him, shaking from how close he was to his release, nearly driven to hysterics from the other man's lack of movement.

The intensity in Benton's dark, almost black eyes almost scared Romano as he stared right into them, the man's face getting so close to his own. He could feel his hot, labored breaths against his flushed skin.

"You're mine, Dr. Romano," Peter said huskily, his smoky eyes boring straight through the man beneath him. "Out there, you may be the boss of me and just about everyone else in that damned hospital, but mark my words. Between the sheets, I'm the boss. And you're all mine. Nobody else's."

"Of course, Peter...you do to me what nobody else can..." Romano pleaded, hoping to just convince him so he'd keep pummeling him, pummeling him hard until he came all over.

"Say it. Say it for me, and I'll let you come." Peter said, his voice so quiet and smooth, almost at a whisper. "Tell me that you're mine. No one else's."

Romano hesitated, his eyes searching Benton's perspiring face. He'd never seen him like this. So intense. So possessive. It was intimidating, and almost frightening, yet so, so alluring at the same time. The sound of Benton's voice when he got like this was almost enough to finish him off on its own.

The grip on his wrists tightened significantly. "Go on, Dr. Romano. Tell me. You know it's true..."

"I'm yours, Peter. All yours," he said earnestly, his eyes casting a certain emotion that told the other surgeon that he was hardly bluffing. Not at all. Romano was his, all his. "No one else's."

Peter moved his hands upward, holding both of Romano's, lacing their fingers together.

He thrust into the man, relentlessly, each one getting harder, and harder, and harder as he pushed himself as deep as he could into him.

"Oh...oh God Peter!" Romano screamed, his strangled cry of passion ripping from him along with his intense orgasm, giving him a head rush fit to make one blow an aneurism. He vibrated against Peter, his sticky hot spent rolling out of him in thick ropes, splattering against the other man's chest and all over himself.

"Yes...yes...yes!" Peter cried, his voice run ragged from his ardent declarations of his inevitable release.

"Fuck...Robert!"

Peter spilled himself deep inside of the man, trembling as the feeling of his own climax threatened to overtake him. He collapsed on top of Romano, their bodies still connected as they radiated against each other, shaking still from their exertions.

Benton pulled out of him, leaving his seed to run out of Romano's entrance as he lay next to him. He took his hand, lacing their fingers together yet again.

"Good God, I've missed that." Robert sighed after a quiet minute, moving his head closer to Peter's on his large bed.

"Yeah. Me too." Benton replied as he gazed dreamily up at their reflection in the mirror, their bodies cooling down in a warm afterglow. "I'm glad I ran all the way over here in the freezing cold for this. God you're amazing."

They were quiet for another minute, listening to each other's labored breathing, thoughts wandering.

"I could never replace you, Peter." Robert said honestly after a while, turning his head to look at the other man. "Not as a surgeon. Or a colleague. And certainly not as a lover."

Peter smiled at him. Another one of those genuine, toothy, ear-to-ear smiles that made Romano's heart flutter and his stomach fill with butterflies.

"Well, I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that, Robbie." His smile was contagious, immediately mirroring itself in the middle of Robert's dimpled cheeks.

"You mean everything to me. I love you a helluva lot." Robert reminded him. Peter leaned over to kiss his dimples, making him giggle, just like always.

"I love you too. I love you more than Kerry Weaver loves hospital gossip. Which, as you know, is also a helluva lot."

Romano shifted closer to Peter, lying so that both men were chest to chest, covering the taller man with his body. He snuggled himself against the man, the weight of their exertions and a week's worth of sexual tension having just been released taking its toll on his already low energy. Especially after his latest shift.

Peter wrapped his arms around Romano's form, nuzzling his big bald head.

It wasn't long before the two drifted off, sleeping soundly in each other's arms as the cold autumn night faded into a crisp new morning.

To be continued...

If you didn't get my earlier Tiger King reference because you haven't watched the Netflix original OR crawled out from under your rock to at least read the new articles then you're a LOOOSER.