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Dennis is annoying.
Okay, everyone already knows this. The dude is a fountain of complaints and unhappiness to the point that Mac isn’t sure he’s ever been comfortable anywhere. Mac’s convinced Den popped outta his mom’s vagina like that, all cranky and irritable and dramatic. He met Dennis when the dude was barely 16; his hair was too curly, and his ego was too big from being a yuppy rich kid. Yet – and he still doesn’t understand this – here they are 30 years later, where Mac’s got a lifetime of calming Dennis down under his belt.
Except he hasn’t been successful today. Something is different about today.
For starters, Dennis woke up late, grumbling under his breath about being cold. Except it’s the middle of May, and there’s no logical reason for him to be cold, but that doesn’t stop Dennis from bitching every three Goddamn seconds at Mac to turn on the heat, to which Mac responds with a quick “fuck that,” because, seriously, fuck that. It’s close to 80 degrees outside, and the humidity is at atrocious. Like he said, there’s no logical reason for Dennis’ behavior (there never really is), and Mac is convinced that he’s sunk into the depths of Hell long before they even leave the apartment to go to work.
For seconds, Dennis has this cough and runny nose that’s been bothering him for the last couple days. It’s barely anything bat an eye at. But, in true Dennis fashion, the guy will not stop bringing it up. Last night when Mac was cooking dinner, he went on and on about how he couldn’t smell anything, about how his throat was starting to hurt from coughing, about how dangerously dehydrated he was, and why wasn’t Mac making him drink water? It’s a stupid question because of course Mac’s been force-watering Dennis since 1999, but Mac pointing out that fact doesn’t make the situation any more better. In fact, something about him saying that offends Dennis. Although, what doesn’t offend Dennis? But anyway, Den spent the rest of the night sulking underneath a blanket on the couch, demanding that Mac rub his calves, which Mac was gonna do anyway.
And, now, Dennis is sitting at the bar, sneezing wetly into his open palm.
Mac rolls his eyes. “Do you need a tissue?”
“Don’t try to use my own line on me.” His voice is nasally.
“What? Ew. No, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
Dennis scoffs. “Ew? What do you mean ‘ew’?”
Mac sighs. “Nothing. Never mind. Here.” He hands Dennis a crumpled tissue from the pockets of his Dickies. “Blow your nose.”
Dennis snatches it from him. “Don’t tell me what to do.” But he blows his nose messily anyway. “Jesus Christ, when is this gonna stop?”
He’s dangerously close to rolling his eyes, but he’s probably, like, reached his daily quota of eye rolling, so he settles on looking Dennis over instead. The guy’s wearing an oversized hoodie, something he wouldn’t typically be caught dead in. His baby blues are a little bloodshot. He isn’t wearing any foundation, and his hair is tousled from all of his irritating body noises. He is a little paler than normal. Not anything super significant, and it’s nothing to worry about, but it’s still just a little out of the ordinary.
“Relax. You’re being dramatic,” Mac finds himself saying as he takes a swig of his beer.
Dennis snaps his head back, eyes wide. “Dramatic? I may be dying, Mac, but I see that doesn’t matter to you.”
Mac snorts. “Dying? Den, you have a cold,” he says. “I’m not even sure I would classify this as a cold.”
“Oh yeah?” His voice is getting all high and whiny in that way that Mac hates. “You wouldn’t ‘classify’ this as a cold? Look at you using big words all of a sudden.”
“Hey, I use big words all the time!” Mac exclaims.
Dennis sticks his tongue out at him.
Mac punches Dennis on the arm.
“Fuck,” Dennis groans as he rubs his upper arm. He sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve instead of using the tissue in his hand. Mac tries to ignore how pitiful and pathetic he looks. “Why would you do that, Mac? I’m sick.”
“Oh my god, dude, you’re not sick! You. Have. A. Cold.”
Dennis basically sticks his bottom fucking lip out and looks all of ten years old once Mac says that. He coughs and clears his throat before putting his head in his hands. He’s bent over the bar and sniffling every five seconds, and it’s starting to drive Mac up the wall. He doesn’t understand why Dennis is like this literally every time he has a cold. God forbid he ever gets the flu or some shit because then – oh, boy – that’s when the real fun starts. When Dennis is sick, actually sick, he likes to bask in denial until he’s practically hospitalized.
(Last year, Dennis got pneumonia so bad he almost died, and Mac was forced to take care of him then too, even though the dude had no interest in taking care of himself.)
Mac exhales and reaches out until his hand is on the small of Dennis’ back. Charlie and Frank are messing around in the basement, and Dee – the bitch – never showed up for work today, so he doesn’t have to worry about any of their stupid questions or hurried accusations about how ‘gay’ they are. He rubs his lower back with his thumb. Dennis doesn’t flinch or pull away. In fact, Mac thinks he feels him kinda sink into the touch a little bit. Huh. Maybe he isn’t feeling too good after all.
“Why don’t we go home?” Mac suggests. “I’ll put in a movie, and we can just chill out the rest of the night.”
Dennis sniffles. “I’d like that,” he says roughly.
So that’s what they do.
Mac drives back to their apartment because, in the fading afternoon light, Dennis does sorta look like crap. He keeps the car quiet and absurdly warm. Dennis nods off long enough for Mac to grab some overpriced cold meds, tissues, and cough syrup from the Wawa. By the time they arrive home, Mac is manhandling Dennis out of the Range Rover and up the stairs. Dennis coughs and wipes his nose on his sleeve again.
“Go change into some PJs. I’ll put in Predator.”
Dennis returns a couple minutes later in one of Mac’s few long sleeved shirts and green plaid pajama pants. He takes a seat on the leather couch and leans his head on his arm. Mac changes too and sets the box of tissues on Dennis’ lap, who immediately digs into them. Orange juice and cold meds in hand, he sits down shoulder to shoulder with Dennis, who is looking more miserable as the minutes pass.
“I got you some cough syrup too,” Mac says as he gives the meds to Dennis. “Just in case.”
Mac watches as Dennis swallows the juice and pills. He gulps noisily and swipes a tissue under his nose. “Ugghhh,” he murmurs. “This sucks.”
And that’s when Dennis puts his head on Mac’s shoulder. Mac stiffens and tries to steady his breathing. He and Dennis have had nights like this before, where touching isn’t so foreign and scary, especially recently. Eventually, Mac melts into it too, gently settling his head on top of Dennis’.
“Thanks,” Dennis mumbles nasally when they’re five minutes into the movie.
Mac’s eyebrows furrow. “For what?”
“Takin’ care of me.”
Mac nods. “Course, Den.”
Yes, Dennis is annoying, really annoying actually, but he’s a lot less annoying like this.
Mac settles in for an early night and tentatively presses a kiss to Dennis’ temple.
Dennis hums, and Mac feels whole.