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Robby doesn’t know when it started, if he searches his mind trying to pinpoint it all he finds is a web of emotion interwoven with his soul, like it had always been there but only just now lit up. Almost as if meeting Dennis— no. It's Whitaker, keep it professional. You can't let this show. Almost like that little mouse had walked into The Pitt on the worst day Robby had in a long while and activated a part of his very centre, his soul, that had lay dormant his entire life. How had he never noticed it before? Or did it just appear, only to burrow itself so deep in his being that it seemed like he couldn't, wouldn’t have existed without the fact of Robby loving Dennis Whitaker. It was as true as the sky was blue, the grass was green and The Pitt would be chaos, day after day. It simply was, and perhaps was always meant to be.
He lifts his head from his hands from where he sits at his desk and immediately regrets it, getting a side eye from Dana at his audible inhale when confronted with the familiar sight of Dennis Whitaker covered in blood. It doesn’t fail to devastate him every time. How could he look that lovely, covered in the substance that haunted Robby's entire existence? The same substance that he kept seeing in his nightmares at night, on the people that he couldn't save, that he failed. Yet, Dennis made it look ethereal to Robby, like he carved out his heart and handed it over to allow him the pleasure and access to clean the blood from Whitaker's skin. He would be so gentle with a washcloth, and leave soothing touches and gentle kisses in its wake to ensure that Dennis was never haunted by the same memories that plagued him.
Oh, the things Robby would do to be allowed to love his boy openly, almost to an excess. Anything to calm the storm of emotions he felt at a mere glance of his face or the feeling of his smooth skin under Robby's calloused hands.
He draws in his breath and steels himself, and pushes his bubbling feelings as far down as he could and he turned from the sight of Dennis, he eyes Princess and Perlah whispering in Tagalog at the nurses station, paranoid they were glancing in his direction and had caught him staring (again.) He shakes it off, determined to not let this consume him and turns to Dana as she signals gently to him.
"You look exhausted, Robby. Your shift is over now and Abbot will be here soon," she intones gently, something almost like pity in her voice, like she can see into his head and knows about the guilt-ridden thoughts he can't stop about his young med student. Her voice pipes up again, "I can hand over all your cases if you want to head out soon, we'll be fine holding down the fort here."
He just stands there in reply. He feels like a perverted old man. Robby's in his 50s, a grown man in control (if he pretends hard enough), yet can't even control his feelings enough for others to not notice him mooning over Whitaker like a horny teenager. He replies curtly, and can't help the upset tone creeping across his tongue. "Thanks Dana, you look lovely too."
She makes a face at that, and he feels bad instantly but continues, taking her up on the offer of some space. "I won't say no however, but don't forget about Trauma 2, he needs constant supervision and immediate assessment as soon as he wakes up." He was desperate to escape the sight of Whitaker and Santos whispering to each other as Dennis deposits the bloody scrubs in the machine. A jealous clawing grip squeezes around his heart.
Anything to stop him from getting caught staring with lovesick eyes again. Jack had been insufferable as soon as he noticed Robby's infatuation. As he is no stranger to Robby's more emotional moments, he picked up on the little crush not much time after Robby himself realised. While incredibly annoying over beer in a local bar, Abbot was still treading carefully, sensing there was something more here than Robby's past affairs.
He felt almost like an open wound with how obvious he seems to be, like he's so desperate for any small drop of Dennis like a man dying of thirst that he can't even maintain professional boundaries in the workplace. He knows he puts his hands on Whitaker too much; manhandling him around the ER with a put on air of casual ease, when in reality he just cant help himself. Whitaker's scrubs hang wide around his neck and all that pale, soft skin feels like clouds under his rough hands. He knows it would feel even better to press his lips and teeth there, marking his boy for everyone to know that he was spoken for. Taken. His.
Realising that he's stood awkwardly at his desk lost in thoughts about claiming Dennis with marks and bruises, Robby walks quickly to the locker room to collect his backpack. Hoping to anyone who's listening that no one notices the slightly tighter fit of his pants around his crotch due to the sight of Whitaker's naked back in the hospital gown as he almost rushes. He walked just slowly enough that he didn't look to be running away. He is, but he can't look like it. As his feet carry him further away from the object of his every desire and the current destruction of his heart, he feels his heart slow from its rapid pace and his head swims back into focus. It's like Whitaker has a spell over him, to turn him into a dumb lovestruck fool at his mere presence in Robby's immediate surroundings. He's unsure if he wants more of that sweet allure to surround his being or to be free from the trappings of love, he has never felt anything so deeply in his middle aged life and it's quite frankly, utterly terrifying.
He collects his backpack from his office quickly, shrugging on an overcoat to fight off the night's chill for the journey back to his brown brick townhouse, a short walk away from his workplace. Hurrying out the door towards the front so he didn't have to be faced head on in the locker room with the sight of Dennis again, and taking several deep breaths as the cool air hits his burning face and lungs. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes absent-mindedly, his large hands easily picking one out and lighting it without conscious thought, more of a habit at this point than any form of dependence. A shaky inhale, he coughs it out as a voice shatters the peace he had briefly found by calling his name from behind him. A voice he knows all too well, but why would Whitaker be calling him back in? He turns sharply, ready to run back inside as he assumes an emergency.
"Wait up for me? I just wanted to talk to you about something, but I need to get my stuff!" Dennis calls out, flushed cheeks and tousled hair from evidently sprinting after him leaving, clothes shrugged on hastily. Finished coughing up smoke, Robby feels his breath catch again at the sight he makes.
Flustered and confused, he replies “Can it wait until tomorrow Whitaker? I was headed out early today.”
If it was possible, Dennis blushes harder. “It won't be long I promise Sir, just wait here for a minute. Please, Dr Robby?”
Robby is not a weak man, but Dennis pleading with him, saying his name in such a sweet tone, could probably get him to do just about anything. He sighs deeply. “Fine, Whitaker. Be quick.”
A brilliant grin splits across Dennis’ face and after a rushed statement agreeing he runs back inside. Robby quickly locates the nearest bench and sits down heavily, berating himself mentally for allowing his emotions to dictate his actions so much. Why is he sitting in the cold Pittsburgh air, waiting for a med student on the promise of only asking about something? Is he really that gone on him?
The thought of Dennis noticing his heart-eyed staring, asking him what it was, what it meant crosses his mind. Robby freezes. He couldn't explain that away if he had already noticed, he'd be reported to HR and Dennis would get moved off his rotation. As much as seeing him daily was throwing Robby into a spiral of emotions, the idea of The Pitt sans Dennis left him suddenly bereft. It felt wrong, like Dennis was meant to be there. He couldn't think further on that train of thought, as Whitaker chose that exact moment to burst out the side doors of the hospital. Glancing around desperately, he spots Robby and he gets to watch as Dennis’ entire body lights up, eyes sparkling as he exclaims “You waited!”
Robby blinks back at him, blinded by the sheer joy emanating from his being and replies with something like wonder in his voice, “Of course I did, you asked.”
Immediately realising how that sounds, Robby goes red on the tops of his ears and quickly adds, “You said you had something to talk to me about, I assume it's important to have you rushing after me like this and I'm always happy to help if you have questions, kid.”
Dennis falters for a second, blushing redder at the nickname but continues undeterred. “Yeah, I did have something to ask you actually.”
He walks closer to Robby, unaware that every step he takes is short circuiting Robby's brain. The boy was just too damn pretty for his own good. He eventually reached the bench and dithered for a second, until Robby shook himself out of his daze and patted the seat next to him, adding, “Well then, whenever you're ready Whitaker, it's cold out here.” His breath was misting into the night air.
Dennis sits down slowly, setting his backpack gently on the floor next to him. Seemingly gathering himself with a deep breath, he turns to Robby and stares at him for a beat too long. Just as Robby is about to hurry him along his words and breath and sanity are taken from him as Dennis asks a single question. “Do you want to go out with me?”
Robby's jaw goes slack as he stares at him in disbelief, Dennis gets visibly nervous. “I'm so sorry if I read this wrong, it's just Trinity kept talking about you touching me, then I thought I caught you staring and I just like you so much I had to ask-” he rambles quickly before Robby regains the brain power to do something about that last confession, leaning over to gently kiss him and stop his insecure rant. Eyes blowing wide before gently whimpering and closing them, Dennis kisses him back just as gentle. They stay in that soft kiss for as long as both their breath capacities allow, before pulling back, a massive grin painted on Robby's face and a smile playing on Dennis’ lips, clearly still nervous.
“Is that a yes to the date then? As much as I like kissing you, I can't do casual. Not with you.” He speaks so softly, obviously scared of rejection even though Robby couldn't stop grinning at him with love soaked eyes.
“It's very much a yes, Whitaker. I like you too for the record, have felt insane with how much I do.”
At this reply Dennis visibly perks up, “Really? I wasn't sure if you did even with all the touching and staring.”
Robby flushed bright red at being caught out so thoroughly, he was so happy at Dennis’ confession he couldn't bring himself to care beyond basic embarrassment. “Yes really, are you free right now? At the risk of sounding desperate I'd be happy to take you on that date immediately. I don't want to wait any longer, Whitaker.”
A quick reply, “Dennis. Call me Dennis.”
Robby only grins wider and replies “Well then Dennis, is that a yes?”
Dennis smiles toothily back now, “Yes please Robby, there's a diner two blocks from here that makes really good pancakes and I'm starving.”
Robby stands and offers his hand to Dennis, who grasps it happily, grabs his backpack and pulls himself up. Not letting go, Robby turns and gestures with his other hand for Dennis to lead the way. And off they go, both grinning and still holding hands.