Chapter Text
Dennis stepped out of the hospital, his breath vaporizing with every heave of his stomach. The winter chill had already nipped his nose, and he tapped his leg to create a semblance of warmth in his body. The jacket he wore wasn’t for winter, but it was the heaviest one he owned. The last time he had a heavy winter coat was when he was a kid in the harsh winters of Nebraska. Thinking about his memories of him and his brothers playing in the snow only worsened the chill that tingled down his spine.
Doors to the hospital automatically opened, and Dennis jolted at the sound until Dr. Robby walked out. Robby’s perturbed expression faltered when their eyes connected. He stopped in his tracks.
“I thought you left ten minutes ago,” Robby said. He then cleared his throat to soften his husky voice. “What are you still doing out here? It’s freezing.”
“I was waiting for you.” Dennis huffed fondly, but his smile never came.
Robby stuffed his hands in the pockets of his faded sweatshirt. He grabbed his keys and unlocked his car. “C’mere. Any longer and you’ll freeze.”
Robby extended his hand and placed it on Dennis’s shoulder, squeezing it fondly as they walked over to Robby’s truck.
With their steps in tandem and Robby’s hand creating a flurry of warmth in Dennis’s stomach, Dennis almost tripped at the intimacy.
Any regular person would see them and think they would be a couple. It was bad enough that people in the ER department had their suspicions. Dennis and Robby fought against assumptions, usually fueled by Trinity and Dana, because an HR violation was as bad an enemy as their reciprocation, which seemed to fester with every passing day.
Dennis never focused on relationships—he never had the time to. Whether it was his past theology studies or his medical journey as a student, he pushed it off. It wasn’t like he hadn’t kissed people, or that he was inexperienced, but time darted around every corner. Just as he thought he could catch up with it, he found he was a lap behind.
And with Dr. Robby Robinavitch, he was several laps behind him, but somehow, they ran side by side. They encouraged each other to give it their all and hauled one up when the other fell down. That was what made it so thrilling.
Eventually, Dennis knew that Robby would grow tired and he’d leave Dennis to run the marathon all alone. But it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. He wouldn’t let it.
Robby released the grip on his shoulder to round his way to the driver's seat. Dennis pulled on the icy handle and pried it open to quickly get inside. His naked palm still stung when he sat down on the cool leather and shut the door.
Robby followed suit and turned the car on with the hot air blasting through the vents.
Dennis rubbed his numb fingers together, panting heavily to warm them up faster. From his peripherals, Robby stayed watching. His gaze lingered from Dennis’s subtle curls to his shoes that had seen better days.
“Any reason why you were waiting for me, Whitaker?” Robby asked.
Dennis turned his head as Robby’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, punishing himself not to reach and soothe Dennis’s cold skin again.
“I have plenty of reasons. Most of them you know,” Dennis replied. He sighed in relief when the frigid feeling in his blood subsided throughout his body.
“Is this one of them?” Robby’s tone was so low, Dennis nearly missed his words.
Both of them stared at the other, picking apart the thoughts in their heads and the “what ifs”. Their looks could’ve been mistaken for gratitude or pride in the middle of a rush, with patients getting transferred or chaotic procedures underway. At least, that’s what they were mistaken for the first few weeks in Dennis’s learning at The Pitt.
Those looks eventually turned into something more, and Dennis knew the exact moment they took on a new meaning. A rough shift. A meet-up at the bar close to Trin’s house. Coworkers were there. Dr. Robby was there.
The welcoming secrecy of the dark. The taste of whiskey in their mouths and the tickle of hot breath on their faces. Whispered pleas. Clothes that rode up too high. Fleeting touches that left their mark. Words and actions that expressed undeniable want and permeating lust.
That night never left Dennis’s mind. With every brush of their shoulders or every praise given, it pierced like a headache or rode like a high.
“I wanted to know if you were okay,” Dennis said.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Dennis swallowed, and Robby’s eyes followed his bobbing throat. “I know we agreed on acting like we’re not a thing, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to feign ignorance with me.” Robby shook his head, but Dennis continued, “You lost a patient. You told the news to their family. I didn’t see you until an hour later. You can talk to me. I’m right here.”
“That’s the problem,” Robby blurted out. “You are everywhere around me. And even when you’re not at work, you’re in my bed. It’s intoxicating. Usually, I need control. I thrive off it. But when it comes to you, I’ve never felt so…lost.” Dennis stiffened at his confession. “That is, until I kiss you again and I feel—”
“Found?” Dennis teased.
Robby scoffed. “That’s one way to put it.”
Dennis reached to cup Robby’s cheek. His hand was on the colder side, but Robby melted into his touch, squeezing his eyes shut and silently cursing himself out when he sighed in pleasure.
“I’ll always be there for you,” Dennis breathily promised. “We’re always there for each other. It’s what we do.”
“But we shouldn’t be,” Robby muttered while he opened his eyes.
Dennis’s fingers twitched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means. We can’t keep doing this,” Robby said.
Dennis pulled his hand back like he’d been burned. “I thought we’d been over this. I know what I want when I want it, and every time, it’s you.”
“Whitaker—”
“It’s Dennis.”
“Please,” Robby begged.
Dennis’s glare swiftly made the heat in the car staggering. He leaned in, across the console, until their lips were inches away. “The only time I want to hear you beg is when we’re having sex. I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not leaving this car.”
Robby didn’t pull away, and his eyes widened, too shocked to do anything but shakily breathe. “Since when did you get so dominant?”
Dennis’s face flushed at Robby’s cracked smile and lustful eye contact.
“Since you started being an asshole,” Dennis mumbled, shyly looking away before staring at the curvature of Robby’s lips that he wetted with his tongue.
Dennis's examination trailed back to Robby’s eyes. The sorrow and responsibility he had disappeared. As Robby licked the inside of his cheek with contemplation, Dennis let out a soft sigh, imagining it was his tongue that mingled in Robby’s mouth.
“Let me make you feel good,” Dennis said. “You know I can.”
When Dennis expected him to lean in, Robby’s lip trembled, and he sucked in a breath.
“Are you still religious?” Robby asked.
Dennis stabbed his fingernails into the palm of his hand, so he bore the weight of his sins. He dared to draw blood in the response he spoke aloud. “Why does that matter now?”
Robby studied the saddened, tired expression on his student's face. Robby didn’t know what pained his heart more—the suffering of Dennis or the way he was beautiful even in his suffering.
“It doesn’t, but I knew you were, and I was for a while, too.” Dennis tilted his head in curiosity. He did that whenever he learned something new, or was so intrigued in a conversation that he couldn’t be pulled away even if he wanted to. It was the face he made when they talked about medical charts or when he stared at Robby when he thought he was asleep.
“Religion is complicated. At least for me, it is. Even when I’m doing everything right, it feels like I’m not doing it right enough. Sure, I save lives, but what about the ones I let go?”
Dennis pouted. “Robby—”
“I know, I know. I’ve been in this business for too long to feel that way, but I do. I feel that guilt. I feel the lives I’ve lost weighing on my back. So, I thought praying would help bring some peace to me. But when I sat down, stared up, and clasped my hands together, I prayed for someone to understand me instead,” Robby explained, subtly cringing at himself for admitting it out loud. “I thought it was nothing but a load of shit until you walked in on your first day.”
Dennis shakily sighed.
“You helped me up at PittFest, like some guardian angel. And I knew as soon as I touched the nape of your neck that this would be sacred. But I also knew that if I went about this the wrong way, it would be unholy. Every touch would turn into flames. I’d leave my mark on you—one that you’d never heal from.”
Robby shook his head once again. “Yet, I touch you, anyway, because He sent you to me. But He made you my student. He made me feel like I need to let what we have die.”
Robby opened his mouth to say more, but closed it immediately after. Whether he lost his words or regretted them, Dennis didn’t know.
What Dennis did know was how much of a guilty pleasure he was for Robby—just as Robby was for him. But as Dennis watched Robby’s darting eyes, he realized it wouldn’t ever be as simple as a guilty pleasure. Not when they want it to be more.
“Robby.” Dennis released his fingernails, knowing they’d leave their traitorous marks on his palm. “I don’t want to let this die,” he confessed in a small voice.
Robby softly leaned his forehead on Dennis’s. “But we have to.”
Dennis reeled in his head and scoffed. “It sounds like you’re breaking up with me.”
Robby bit his tongue, careful not to make Dennis angrier, but it didn’t work. Robby stared, for once, pitifully. And Dennis scrunched his face up in rage at his audacity.
“Whitaker—”
Dennis opened his door, and the bitter air slapped him in the face. He continued to leave regardless, with his leg getting soaked in the snow that was steadily falling.
“You know I’m right,” Robby called out as Dennis was fully out of his car, looking in. “I’m trying to save you.”
Dennis bristled. “Save me? You clearly have no recognition of your actions if you think ‘saving’ is what you’re doing right now.”
Robby’s jaw clenched. “You’ll thank me later.”
Dennis’s hand squeezed the car door. “I highly doubt it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Robby opened his mouth to refute before Dennis slammed it shut and walked to Trinity’s home. His comfortably warm fingers began to numb further, and every crunch of snow under Dennis’s shoe made him wonder why he’d been waiting for Robby in the first place.
It shouldn’t have been as big a surprise when he called it off. But something like sadness prickled in the back of Dennis’s eyes, daring to pour down his pink cheeks.
He blamed it on the whipping wind and shivered in the cold before mentally noting to buy a winter coat.
++++
Everyone could silently sense that Dennis had been on edge for the past two days. He tried to ignore Robby, but they constantly met each other’s gazes. Dennis always turned away first. After all, Robby broke things off so he wouldn’t keep liking him, while Dennis liked Robby enough that he respected his wishes, even if they were against what he wanted.
Trinity was a different story. Although Dennis loved his chaotic roommate and owed her big time, that didn’t mean she wasn’t an occasional nuisance.
It only took her minutes on the first day before she subtly nudged him with a nod. Dennis nodded back, as it was the closest he could get to someone sympathizing without realizing his situation, which he obviously wouldn’t tell anyone about.
Yet, things escalated on the second day. When he wasn’t better that morning, she cornered him in the break room at lunch with her hands digging into Dennis’s shoulders. Any person walking in from an unfortunate angle would think they were fraternizing.
Dennis, mid-bite of his bagel, scanned her irritated face. “Can I help you?”
Trinity’s eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Yes, you can, actually. Starting with why the hell you’ve been acting weird. I mean, it’s like you to be a mousey, but this is a whole new level, Huckleberry.”
Dennis’s eye twitched at the nickname before he returned to a smirk. “It’s fine.” Dennis quickly corrected, “I’m fine.”
Trinity tilted her head, not believing in his reassurances. “Really? Why does it seem like you went through a breakup, then?”
“It wouldn’t be a breakup if we were never together.”
Her eyes widened. “So, that’s the problem?”
Dennis realized what he said moments too late. His heart lurched at the truth he didn’t think twice about spewing out. “I mean, no, that’s not, uh, no. Seriously, it didn’t mean anything. It was fine.”
Actually, it meant everything, and it wasn’t fine. But she didn’t need to know that.
“It’s not fine,” Trinity said, like she read his mind. “You’re frantic at work, dude, and not only there, too. I sense the bad energy in my house.”
Dennis sighed. “I’ll pay you back for the incense.”
“That’s not the point.” She let her grip on him go and forcefully patted his cheek. “The point is, you have to move on. You need to have fun and rebound. We’ll go out for drinks.”
At the same dark corner of the bar he and Robby kissed each other in? Yeah, he’d rather stay inside and go to bed early.
Because of Dennis’s wary expression, Trinity stopped slapping. “Oh, wait.” She tensed. “You liked him. Like…a lot. I assumed it was a hookup that you blindly fell for, and you only met up two times. Was this serious?”
Was it ever serious? Dennis wanted to ask Robby the same question.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I thought it was,” he whispered in the break room that was now deadly silent.
Dennis looked down at his dry bagel before taking another bite. He figured Trinity would express her apologies, maybe try for drinks again, and move on, but a creeping smile on her face said differently.
“Then, I have a solution,” she said.
Dennis scoffed. “I can’t wait to hear it, Dr. Santos.”
“You make him want you back.”
Immediately, his interest piqued, but he pretended not to care. “And how would I do that?” he sarcastically asked, walking beside her to throw out his food. He needed a coffee.
“Easy.” Trinity stole the bagel from him and chewed off a piece. “You tempt him. You do things that make him jealous. Eventually, he’ll yearn, snap, and get his head out of his ass.”
“You think?” Dennis asked.
Trinity shrugged. “It’s worth a try. You’re a good person. Unless you think he doesn’t deserve you.”
Dennis bit his tongue to stop his answer, but it was a fruitless endeavor. “He’s the one who thinks I don’t deserve him.”
“Oh yeah. By the fifth day, he’ll be groveling at your feet,” she said with her mouth full. “Guaranteed.”
She accidentally spat a piece of bagel out of her mouth, and it landed on the counter.
The two shared an awkward look until she threw it out.
“Think about it,” she yelled back and left the room.
Dennis did think about it. Even in the mayhem of people yelling orders and others rushing in, he thought about his uncertain future with Robby and how, with a little effort, it could become more certain if he stepped up.
It would be out of his comfort zone, but new things were worth trying. He’d give it one attempt, and if there were no signs of any reciprocation from Robby, he’d drop it.
He promised himself to start tomorrow and knew exactly what to conjure up first.