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Robby is leaning against the nurses' station, looking up at the list of patients that had finally calmed down after the disastrous long weekend that had just happened, their work reverting to the regular emergencies as opposed to the drunken accidents that occur at this time of year. He'd say he'd rather a mass casualty disaster than a long repetitive weekend, but he doesn't want to put that out into the universe.
He sighs letting his head hang between his shoulders, eyes closed, holding it there just listening to the world around him for longer than just a moment. He's just waiting until it's time to clock out. The hospital always plans for this weekend to be long and painful so the ones who worked the weekend got a day off the next day, you know, unless there actually is a mass casualty event.
He jumps when he feels something press against the middle of his back, his body stiffening. It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise it's someone's forehead and even longer, once their arms are around his waist to know they're not a threat.
He relaxes and pats their hand comfortingly. You'd be surprised at how often something like this happens. This is a harrowing place to be, for patients and their families and Robby looks like a giant teddy bear, much to his dismay. But he's too soft on the people who come in here to show any animosity towards them.
The person stays there for a few moments before Robby pulls them off of him when they nuzzle into his spine. He pulls them by the wrist in front of him before pausing when he finds Whitaker connected to the wrist, looking up at him, his eyes darker and more pathetic than normal.
Robby's brain clicks back on, his free hand cupping around the boy's neck while the other stays on his wrist, both thumbs rubbing softly against their respective pulse points. "What's wrong Whittaker?"
Whitaker shrugs.
Robby frowns. "No, tell me what is wrong." His grip tightens.
Whitaker sighs, his lip jutting out slightly into a small pout.
"Dennis!"
"I don't know!" The younger man pulls his lips into a straight line. "I don't know."
Robby closes his eyes and shakes his head, calming himself. If there's anyone he's truly soft for, it's Whitaker. He can't help feeling protective of the young man.
"Yeah, okay, fine." Robby sighs, pulling Whitaker into his chest. "Take your time. It's been a hectic weekend." He releases his wrist, allowing Whitaker to wrap his arms back around his waist.
Whitaker lies his head on Robby's chest, listening to his heartbeat, calming him slightly.
"A few more minutes and then you can go home." Robby says calmly, his voice rumbling against Whitaker's ear as he rubs his back. "You've been working on routine and instinct the past couple of days, huh? And your brain just switched back on, realising how tired you are?"
Whitaker nods slightly, unsure if that's actually what this is, but it seems logical. He's overwhelmed, tired, and admittedly cranky like a child.
Back home he would have waited till he got home, falling into his mother's arms, cashing in his "baby of the family" card. But he's not back home, the closest thing he has to family is Santos and he's not going to go cuddle with her.
He hadn't planned to be hugging Robby either. He was just going to lean against the nurses' station, next to Robby, but he stopped short, his urge to just press against Robby overtaking him.
"Whitaker." Robby shakes him softly. "Time to go home."
"Huh?" Whitaker pulls his head back, looking around. He sees Dana snickering softly at him and he blushes slightly. He had zoned out. "Right... Sor- ... Um, thanks... For this." He says as he lets go of Robby.
Robby runs his fingers through Whitaker's hair gently. "No problem. You're getting driven home, right?"
Whitaker nods. "Yeah, Santos." He says simply.
"Okay, good..." Robby drops his hand. "You should get home, have a hearty meal and sleep." He says as he guides Whitaker towards the locker room.
Robby stays with him as they both pack their bags, as they walk out the front back into the real world and as Whitaker waits for Santos.
She arrives in her small car and opens the passenger window leaning over to talk to them. "Sorry, but this is only a ride for one." She jokes. "Maybe try the next one."
Robby chuckles as he leans down into the window with his elbows. "Just seeing him off. The weekend has taken a toll on him."
"Oh, I saw. You sure you don't want to take him back to your place?" She grins, looking past Robby at Whitaker, who glares at her.
Robby hums. "Thought about it, but it's a bit inappropriate."
She grins even more. "I won't tell anyone. You should take care of him. Saves me from doing it."
Whitaker rolls his eyes. "Ha, ha. Very funny." He says sarcastically, adjusting his backpack straps.
Robby looks back at him. "Up to you Whitaker. I don't mind taking you home with me."
Whitaker blushes, both at the suggestion and attention. "What?" His voice cracks slightly.
Robby chuckles again, standing up to lean against the car with his hip. "I can make sure you eat properly and rest."
"Yeah, hurry up and decide. I want to go home too." Santos says dramatically leaning even further across the seats of her car.
Whitaker looks between them. "I d-" He gets cut off when he sees Santos nodding slowly, pointing vaguely towards Robby. Whitaker copies her nodding. "Uh, sure... I guess, if that's okay."
Robby grins and steps closer to him, wrapping an arm around the shorter man's shoulders. He leans down to talk to Santos. "You can have him back tomorrow."
She laughs. "Keep him for as long as you like." She sits up and waves at them before driving off.
Robby squeezes Whitaker's shoulder, spinning him around to guide him towards the employee parking lot and to a motorcycle. He lets go of the boy to unlock his helmet from the back of the bike, handing it to Whitaker. Who just holds it out in confusion.
"What, you've never ridden a motorbike?" Robby chuckles.
Whitaker tilts his head. "I have... But you don't have another helmet." He says bluntly.
Robby softens. "It's okay. My place isn't far and the streets are pretty empty." He rubs his arms comfortingly.
"I..."
Robby takes the helmet and carefully places it on Whitaker's head. "Don't worry about it. I'll be careful with you on the back." He adjusts the strap under Whitaker's chin. "I promise."
Whitaker frowns, all of the work the hug did, slowly wearing off, his nervous system becoming overwhelmed again. "Then why give me the helmet?"
Robby sighs. "Just in case. You're more likely to get hurt if we get into an accident."
"That's not true. The driver always sustains more injuries." Whitaker crosses his arm.
Robby takes a deep breath. "Turn off your doctor brain. You already have it on. This isn't about statistics. You're wearing the helmet because I'm not letting you get on a motorcycle without one." Whitaker opens his mouth but Robby holds a finger up to silence him. "No more." He climbs onto the bike, kicking up the stand and starts the bike. "Get on."
Whitaker sighs and climbs on behind him carefully. Robby pulls his arms around him, making sure he's properly situated before taking off. Whitaker wishes the state would make it illegal to ride without a helmet for all riders. He holds on tight, not because he thinks he's going to fall off, but because he's just worried about Robby's safety, no helmet or other protection. Even at the calm speed of the streets around them, coming off a bike would cause some serious injuries like this. Dennis Whitaker is a hypocrite by the way, because he's ridden motorbikes without a helmet or protective clothing plenty of times, just those were dirt bikes and on his farm.
Robby was right, though; his place wasn't very far at all. It felt like they had only turned four corners, at least to Whitaker, who wasn't really paying attention, before the bike comes to a stop. Robby's parking in his spot, kicking down the stand before helping Whitaker off.
Whitaker pulls off the helmet, fidgeting with it for a moment before Robby takes it, locking it back onto his bike. Robby takes his hand carefully guiding him into the apartment building and up to his level.
They walk through the door, Robby grabbing a stack of take-out menus as he pulls Whitaker to the couch, placing the stack in his lap. "Choose something to eat." He says softly.
Whitaker whines softly, his crankiness back into full force, leaning against the back of the couch, eyes closed.
Robby sighs, bringing his hand to run his fingers through the short blonde hair in front of him. "I'll just get you some chicken and rice, okay?" Whitaker nods softly. Robby quickly orders before pulling Whitaker into his arms. "You're really that tired?"
The boy nods again, lying his head on Robby's shoulder. He snuggles closer, taking a deep breath and then is suddenly startled by Robby shaking him lightly.
"Dinner's here." Robby says sitting Whitaker up.
Whitaker watches Robby move to the door in confusion. "That was fast..." He says under his breath, his brain slowly working through what happened. "I fell asleep?" He asks as Robby sits back down.
"Yeah?" Robby tilts his head. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Uh..." Whitaker sighs. "I didn't realise... It felt like I just blinked."
"Okay, that's it. Come on, eat something before I put you to bed." Robby says opening up the food he got for Whitaker.
He puts the container in Whitaker's lap and hands him a fork, making sure food makes it into the boy's mouth before turning to his own food. Robby talks and asks Whitaker simple questions to keep him awake until Robby's satisfied with the amount of food in his belly.
Surprisingly, to Whitaker at least, the food gave him a bit of energy. Or maybe his body is just oversensitive and any bit of adrenaline is going to keep him awake.
Robby helps him into the bedroom, quickly turning on the lamp before tugging off the smaller man's shirt, Whitaker now alert enough to cover his chest and stomach in embarrassment, causing Robby to chuckle. Robby walks over to his set of drawers, grabs a shirt and sweatpants, and throws the pants on the bed next to Whitaker. He then pulls the neck hole of the shirt over his head carefully. He walks back over to the drawers to undress himself, letting Whitaker take care of his pants situation, and pulls on his own pair of sweatpants, moving around to sit on the opposite side of the bed, shirtless.
He watches as Whitaker has to tie the string at his waist so the sweatpants stay up on his hips, the whole outfit slightly swallowing his compact frame. The younger man stands awkwardly at the side of the bed and doesn't sit down until Robby pulls back the blankets and pats the spot for him.
"It's time to rest. You're allowed to sleep now." Robby says softly, laying the blankets back up, over Whitaker's lap, before sliding under them himself.
Whitaker fidgets with the blankets as he watches his attending lie down and turn off the lamp. He knows he's tired, he's basically acting like a baby but he can't make himself sleep now, despite literally passing out not even twenty minutes ago. Robby stops his hands, holding them in his lap.
"Lie down." It's soft but definitely a demand as the hand pulls back.
Whitaker follows the order and scoots till he's lying down, curled towards Robby. He watches Robby's eyelids flutter when they're closed. He notices how his beard is full but short enough to still look neat even after the hard day...s and the wind on the ride home, he wants to rub his palm over one of his cheeks just to see how spiky it is.
"Dennis." Robby says feeling eyes on his face. It's cautious, almost a warning. "You need to sleep." He opens his eyes, looking through his brows towards the boy.
"Sorry..." Whitaker says softly, still he doesn't close his eyes, keeping eye contact.
Robby sighs. "Close your eyes."
Whitaker does but only for a few seconds. He's not sure why. He's acting like a child who was allowed to open a present on Christmas Eve night but isn't allowed to play with it until the morning. Just staring, wanting, hoping for someone to cave and just let him. Not wanting sexually, but just... Something.
"Do you want another hug?"
Whitaker is surprised at how fast he nods, a small pout arriving on his face for the second time that night. Robby snakes an arm under him, pulling him closer gently.
Whitaker happily snuggles, pressing himself into his chest, his eyes finally closing for more than a couple of seconds. He presses his palm hesitantly against Robby's bare chest, feeling the coarse hair there, a steady comforting heartbeat under his fingertips. He preens as he presses his cheek next to his hand, nuzzling slightly.
Robby rubs his back softly, his fingers catching on the loose fabric lightly, long after Whitaker stops moving and his breath evens out. Fingers drawing over the covered skin mindlessly. Thinking Whitaker is finally asleep, Robby tries rolling onto his back, but the heavy lax body loosely in his arms follows on top of him, Whitaker's legs sliding either side of his hips as their bodies slot into place like they were both made to sleep like this.
Robby sighs again. "Dennis, you're still not asleep?" He asks, more to himself, his voice barely audible.
Whitaker doesn't respond. He is awake, but barely; he's hanging on by a thread or, more so, hanging on to Robby. Not wanting to be away from him even by a millimetre, like a velcro toddler with their mother, which admittedly, he was one for way too long.
Robby hums at the lack of response and adjusts the blankets over them, giving in to the feeling of the weight on his chest. Whitaker isn't light by any means, his small body being dense with unassuming muscle but he's not too heavy for Robby, his weight spread evenly over the taller man.
Whitaker's face slides down more into the crook of Robby's neck as he finally falls asleep. Robby wraps his arms tighter around his waist, pressing his lips to Whitaker's temple, allowing himself to sleep too.
The two lie as one, not realising how much they're stuck between what their relationship should be and what it could be, but neither being where they are. Not a professional relationship but not a real intimate relationship either. But maybe the past day has pushed them into the latter. Not that they'd have to wait long to push it further.
Robby wakes up slowly feeling something moving softly on his neck, trying to turn his head before remembering Whitaker is on top of him, realising it's the smaller man's lips sleepily kissing his neck, a moment later noticing him doing it in his sleep.
Whitaker isn't sucking or biting, more just moving his lips against Robby's skin, so he leaves him be. Instead, Robby runs his fingers through Whitaker's curls gently, his other hand resting on his hip. He looks up at the ceiling taking in the intimate, almost domestic moment.
A small hum comes from the snuggled body on top that stretches, or more so, flexes muscles, waking up after some time. He nuzzles into Robby's neck, breathing in his sleepy musk.
Robby chuckles softly. "Morning."
"Mm-morning..." Whitaker mumbles sleepily, properly stretching now, arms sliding up to sit beside Robby's head, keeping his face in his neck.
Robby continues his hand movements in the younger man's hair. "You feeling better?"
Whitaker pulls back enough to look at him. "If I say no can I stay here?" He puts on a dramatic pout.
Robby chuckles again, brushing hair off Whitaker's forehead. "I guess."
"Then no, I'm still tired." Whitaker lies his head back down, shifting his hips and cringing slightly.
"Obviously not all of you is tired." Robby jokes but Whitaker can feel the heat in his cheeks.
The younger man grumbles. "Yeah, yeah."
"Can I take responsibility for that or is it just poor timing?" Robby asks bravely, something tells him Whitaker wouldn't be offended at his question either way. He can feel him pout more genuinely with a small whine. He grips the boy's hips as he whispers in his ear. "Would you like some help with that?"
Whitaker yelps softly in surprise
but nods. "Yes please... If you want."
Robby chuckles and rolls them over to pin him down. "Oh, I want. Definitely." He grins. "Most definitely."