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7.15p.m.
It’s almost as if Dennis daren’t move, sitting cross-legged on Robby’s couch, surrounded by soft blankets and an as of yet untouched tissue box beside him. It’s not like he hasn’t been here before — this is the ninth time in the past two months, actually. But, he just really wasn’t expecting to be whisked off here after their shift ended. He was expecting to sneak back to Trinity’s, hide in bed and sleep the world away. Apparently, Doctor Robby had other ideas.
“You were really gonna walk home in the rain?” It’s maybe the third time he’s asked that, as he walks into the living room holding a steaming mug of tea.
“Well, no. I was going to walk to the bus.” Dennis mutters, his voice completely shot after a twelve hour shift of trying to talk sense into med students, as well as take care of patients.
Robby laughs, the kind of laugh that settles his crows feet just perfectly and Dennis becomes enamoured all over again. Fuck. “Tea,” the elder man states, passing it down to him.
“Thank you.” Dennis says quietly, the consonants blurred significantly by congestion.
Sitting down beside him, Robby gently fluffs the blankets, making sure Dennis is warm; he’s wearing one of Robby’s old tees, and one of his hoodies over the top. There weren’t any pants here that will fit him, but he’s comfortable being just in his boxers. (Physically. Not emotionally, at current, but that’s fine.)
“You sound like shit, by the way. You should’ve gone home early.” Robby’s arm protectively wraps around him, and the honey and lemon tea coats Dennis’ aching throat.
He shrugs. “It wasn’t that bad. I got through it. You guys needed the help today.” He places the tea cup down momentarily, so that he can lean against Robby’s arm. This is new — well, it’s been a few months now — but everything feels so perfect, Dennis keeps feeling like one tiny wrong move and it’ll all crumble. He wants it to stay perfect forever. Perfect and warm and fluffy like these blankets.
“Trinity said you kept her awake snoring like a chainsaw on steroids—“ Robby snorts, only laughing harder at the offence shown on his partner’s face.
“That’s mean.”
“She called you snuffleberry.”
“Also mean.” Dennis pouts, looking up at him.
Robby’s expression softens, and he presses a careful kiss to Dennis’ curls against his forehead. “You’re warm,” he hums. “I’ll get you some Tylenol.”
“Wait—!” It sounds pretty desperate, but right now he’s too tired to care. “Stay for a little bit longer?” Cheeks pink, nose rosy red, and a sheepish smile.
“Alright, sweetheart.” His voice alone makes Dennis start to feel better. He sighs contentedly, and becomes wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms.