Work Text:
dr. michael “robby” robinavitch’s guiltiest pleasure is lana del rey. he watched the great gatsby (2013), heard young and beautiful, and PTMC’s resident saddest boy was enchanted ever since. this secret has stayed safe with him until one day when dennis sneaks up behind him in the locker room and hears lana’s voice coming from the older man’s airpods.
“say yes to heaven?” dennis asks a little too closely. robby jumps at the sound of someone suddenly next to him.
still stunned, robby pulls out his airpod and looks at the younger man with a furrowed brow “what? what are you talking about?”
dennis chuckles “the song! that’s what you’re listening to right?”
robby flushes and looks away, feeling like he’s been caught. “oh… yeah i guess that’s what it’s called” he returns, trying to sound casual as if it’s not his favorite song. he knows dennis doesn’t believe him.
dennis leans against the lockers “you know, i never pegged you as a lana fan dr. robby.” he says back with a sly grin.
robby sees the younger man look him up and down, feeling the flush of his skin following the movement “and what the hell is that supposed to mean, whitaker?” he barks back, sounding more defensive than he wanted.
dennis raises his hands in mock surrender “nothing! nothing. it’s just… i never thought that the hot and mysterious dr. robby would be into sad gay music.”
before robby has time to answer, dennis shrugs and continues “figured you’d just be stuck listening to dad rock that was made before i was born.” robby barely holds back a groan.
“didn’t mean to make you blush like that, sir.” dennis adds as he’s walking away, pointing down at robby’s neck and chest, acting like he doesn’t know how much what he said had affected the older man.
robby on the other hand, is left wide-eyed and slack-jawed, skin turning an even deeper burgundy, trying to process even HALF of what dennis said (and implied).