Work Text:
The hallway smells like antiseptic and burnt coffee.
The Pitt hums around them. Nurses moving. Monitors beeping.
Robby stands by the lockers with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Sabbatical. “A break.” That’s what he called it.
Dennis leans against the metal door like he doesn’t care.
He cares.
Robby says, “You’ll survive without me.”
“Bold assumption,” Dennis replies, voice dry, trying not to let his fear, his worry, his hurt show.
“You’re good at this, Whitaker. You all are. You’ll be okay.”
“Will we?” It’s quiet. Soft enough that Robby probably wasn’t meant to hear it.
He hesitates, but eventually he pulls out his phone. “Give me your number.”
Dennis blinks.
“Why?”
“You’re a smart kid. Figure it out,” Robby says gruffly. His eyes dart around, unwilling or unable to make eye contact with the pretty young thing standing in front of him.
Dennis tries not to smile too wide.
They exchange phones.
Robby types something in, hands it back. He squeezes Dennis’ shoulder once before walking off.
Dennis stands there longer than necessary.
Then looks at his phone.
New Contact: Robby.
Twenty-eight hours later, Dennis is sitting in his bed, staring at the blank message box.
dennis:
so the pitt didn’t implode today
robby:
Disappointing.
dennis:
i did get someone’s blood in my hair tho
robby:
There are worse things to have in your hair.
Dennis grins at his phone.
dennis:
how’s sabbatical life
robby:
Quiet.
Too quiet.
Dennis pictures him alone in some too-neat hotel.
dennis:
miss the chaos?
robby:
Maybe a little.
Miss the people more.
Dennis’s chest warms stupidly at that.
dennis:
even me?
There’s a pause.
robby:
Especially you.
Dennis stares at the screen.
Rereads it twice.
Smiles into his pillow like an idiot.
They start texting almost daily.
At first it’s work updates.
dennis:
you’ll be proud of me
robby:
That’s ominous
dennis:
an old lady hit on me and i didn’t panic
robby:
I’m always proud of you.
Dennis goes very still.
Always.
dennis:
don’t get soft on me
robby:
Right, right. I have a reputation to maintain.
Later that night:
robby:
How was your shift really?
Dennis stares at the message.
No one usually asks that twice.
dennis:
busy
dennis:
exhausting
dennis:
but fine
Typing bubble.
robby:
You don’t have to be “fine” with me.
Dennis doesn’t know what to do with that.
The texts drift away from strictly work.
dennis:
what do you even do all day now
robby:
See the sights. Drive. Pretend I’m not checking my phone every hour.
dennis:
for what
robby:
Updates from the Pitt.
Dennis smiles.
dennis:
sure
dennis:
just the pitt
Robby doesn’t respond to that part.
That night Dennis sends a photo for the first time.
Nothing crazy.
Just him in scrubs in the break room. Hair messy. Half-smile.
dennis:
proof of life
Robby replies faster than usual.
robby:
You look tired.
You sleeping at all?
Dennis zooms in on his own face.
He does look tired.
dennis:
are you always this observant
robby:
Comes with age.
Dennis snorts.
dennis:
you’re not old
robby:
Feels like it some days.
Dennis studies that.
Files it away.
They fall into an easy rhythm.
Morning:
robby:
Good luck today.
dennis:
don’t jinx me
Mid-shift:
dennis:
you would have hated this guy
robby:
Details immediately.
Late night:
robby:
You home safe?
dennis:
yeah dad
robby:
Brat.
Dennis grins at the word.
One evening, Dennis texts from his bedroom.
dennis:
new hoodie
robby:
You buying clothes again?
dennis:
don’t judge me
this is the first time in my life i don’t have to wear my brothers’ hand me downs or stuff from the thrift store
image attached
It’s casual. Hoodie oversized. Sleeves too long. He’s tugging at the hem absentmindedly.
Robby stares at the exposed strip of collarbone.
robby:
It suits you.
Dennis notices.
Suits you.
He likes when Robby says that.
dennis:
you say that a lot
robby:
Do I?
dennis:
yeah
dennis:
i don’t mind
Robby’s typing bubble flickers. Stops.
They’re texting about nothing.
Takeout. Bad TV. The usual.
dennis:
it’s weird not seeing you at work
robby:
Weird not seeing you there either.
Dennis hesitates.
dennis:
we can still see each other you know
Robby’s heart jumps.
robby:
Meaning?
Dennis panics slightly at how that could sound.
dennis:
like
dennis:
pics or whatever
not in a weird way
Long pause.
Dennis regrets everything.
robby:
Pictures aren't weird.
robby:
We can do more pictures.
Dennis exhales.
Smiles.
After that, the texting feels different. Warmer. They chat more, and the texts come faster. They send photos of everything, tell each other about the mundane little thoughts that would usually drift away without ever being vocalized.
Dennis wonders if Robby texts anyone else like this.
He wonders if Robby knows that Dennis has never felt like this about anyone before.
dennis:
ok be honest
robby:
Why does every conversation with you start like that
dennis:
because you’re judgy
robby:
I am not
dennis:
you absolutely are
dennis:
anyway
dennis:
is it cringe to cuff your jeans if you’re not a teenager anymore
Robby smiles at his phone.
robby:
No.
It’s illegal, actually. Straight to jail.
dennis:
wow
so helpful
image attached
It’s Dennis in front of his closet mirror. Jeans cuffed once. Socks mismatched on purpose. Shirt hanging loose.
He’s biting his lip like he doesn’t care.
Robby stares a second too long.
robby:
They look good.
You could pull off a garbage bag, though.
Dennis grins.
dennis:
compliment accepted
but like
good good?
Robby squints at the screen.
There’s something in that.
robby:
Yeah. Good good.
Dennis flops onto his bed, pleased.
dennis:
important update
robby:
Oh no
dennis:
i cut my hair
robby:
Whitaker.
Show me?
Photo appears.
Shorter on the sides. Slightly messy on top. Still soft.
Dennis looking at the camera with faux innocence.
Robby inhales.
robby:
…
dennis:
why the pause
robby:
I’m processing
dennis:
BAD processing????
robby:
No.
You look good.
Sharper.
Dennis zooms in on his own selfie. Sends another.
Closer this time. His fingers in his hair like he just ran them through it.
dennis:
i can fluff it
or leave it down
i’m versatile
Robby laughs under his breath.
robby:
I’m sure you are.
Dennis studies the typing bubble that appears… disappears… appears again.
Nothing comes.
His stomach does a weird little dip.
dennis:
that’s it?
robby:
What else do you want from me? 😅
Dennis doesn’t know how to answer that.
He wants—
He doesn’t know.
dennis:
i made a mistake
robby:
Define mistake
dennis:
i wore grey sweats to the gym
robby:
And?
dennis:
and now i understand why people talk about grey sweats
robby:
Dennis.
Photo.
Mirror in a locker room. Hoodie lifted just enough to show waistband. The sweats hang low on his hips.
He looks smug.
Robby closes his eyes.
He is not going to comment on this. He refuses.
robby:
You are trouble.
Dennis beams at that.
dennis:
is that a compliment
robby:
It’s a warning.
Dennis bites his lip.
dennis:
you sound like you’re 80
robby:
I basically am
dennis:
you’re literally 57
robby:
Exactly. Ancient.
Dennis stares at the message.
Something tightens in his chest.
Ancient?
Is that how Robby sees himself? Compared to him?
He shakes it off.
dennis:
don’t be dramatic
i like older guys
He sends it before he can stop himself.
Three dots appear immediately.
Disappear.
Reappear.
Disappear.
robby:
You’re young. You don’t know what you like yet.
Dennis’s stomach drops a little.
dennis:
pretty sure i do
robby:
I just mean
You’ve got time.
Dennis doesn’t reply for six minutes.
Robby watches the read receipt sit there.
dennis:
yeah
Short. Small.
Robby frowns at his phone.
They’re back to normal. Or pretending to be.
dennis:
movie night?
robby:
You picking?
dennis:
obviously
robby:
Then I’m scared.
Later, mid-movie:
dennis:
this scene is dumb
robby:
It’s literally the emotional climax
dennis:
i could do better
robby:
You could not
dennis:
watch me
Photo.
Dennis on his couch. Hoodie sleeves pushed up. Knees tucked under him. He’s pouting exaggeratedly at the camera.
Robby’s chest does that thing again.
He wants to reach through the screen and tuck that stray curl behind Dennis’s ear.
He settles for:
robby:
You’re very convincing.
Dennis huffs.
dennis:
you’re impossible
dennis → trinity:
i told him i like older guys
trinity:
AND
dennis:
he said i don’t know what i like
trinity:
…
he’s either insecure or clueless
dennis:
why not both
trinity:
did he sound dismissive
dennis:
no
just
like he doesn’t think i’d pick him
trinity:
🙄
men are SO insecure
Dennis sighs and rolls onto his stomach.
dennis:
do cropped tees look stupid on me
robby:
Why are you asking me these things
dennis:
because you’re honest
robby:
That feels like a trap
Photo appears.
Dennis in a black cropped tee. It hits just above his navel. When he lifts his arms, more skin shows.
He looks soft. Pretty. Slightly flushed.
Robby’s mouth goes dry.
robby:
They don’t look stupid.
They suit you.
Dennis chews on that.
Suit you.
Neutral. Safe.
dennis:
would you wear one
robby:
God no
dennis:
coward
robby:
Realist.
Dennis zooms in on his own waist in the photo.
He debates sending a closer one.
He does it anyway.
dennis:
i kinda like showing a little skin
Robby’s fingers hover over the keyboard.
He types: I noticed.
Deletes it.
Types: It looks good on you.
Deletes that too.
Finally—
robby:
As long as you’re comfortable.
Dennis stares at the message.
His excitement deflates slowly.
dennis → trinity:
HE SAID “AS LONG AS YOU’RE COMFORTABLE”
trinity:
oh no
dennis:
I SENT A CROP TOP PIC
trinity:
he’s definitely scared
dennis:
of what
trinity:
liking you too much
Dennis rolls his eyes— but the idea sticks.
Over the next few days, Dennis texts less. He finds himself grabbing his phone constantly, instinctively opening his messages with Robby, but he resists.
robby:
You alive?
dennis:
yeah
robby:
Everything okay?
dennis:
mmhm
Robby stares at the screen.
Despite having spent the last month on the road by himself, he suddenly feels more alone than he ever has.
He reopens old photos without meaning to. The grey sweats. The cropped tee.
He feels stupid.
Why would someone like Dennis aim that at him?
Better to keep it normal. Safe.
He types.
Deletes.
Types again.
robby:
If I’ve been weird lately, I’m sorry.
Dennis’s heart thumps.
dennis:
you haven’t
They both know that’s not true.
dennis:
ok important question
robby:
That sounds dangerous already. What’s up?
dennis:
be honest
is this giving “cool” or “midlife crisis at 34”
image
It’s a mirror pic. Dennis in low-slung black jeans, shirt cropped just enough that a sliver of skin shows when he lifts his arm. The waistband dips. A thin line of red lace peeks over it. In the center, a tiny gold heart glints against pale skin.
Robby stares at the photo for a solid twelve seconds.
Then twenty.
He zooms in. Immediately zooms back out. Locks his phone. Unlocks it again.
He types. Deletes. Types.
robby:
You look good.
Very… stylish.
Dennis flops backward on his bed.
Very stylish???
dennis:
just stylish 😒
not like. life changing. breathtaking. etc.
Robby swallows.
He is fifty-seven years old. His accountant keeps saying the word retirement. There are countless healthcare workers that look up to him.
He cannot be the guy who loses his mind over lace panties peeking out of a waistband.
That is how you become an Old Perv.
robby:
You asked for honest. They look really good on you.
Fit’s nice.
Fit’s nice.
Fit’s nice.
Dennis stares at the words like it personally offended him.
dennis:
the fit 😭is😭nice😭
it’s red panties robby
i feel like that deserves at least one dramatic reaction
Robby exhales slowly through his nose.
robby:
It’s a tasteful dramatic element.
Dennis chokes on his own laugh.
dennis:
tasteful
oh my god
Across town, Robby presses his thumb to his forehead.
Do not say anything weird. Do not say anything weird.
He reopens the picture. The red is bright. The heart rests right in the dip of Dennis’s stomach.
He feels approximately seventeen emotions at once and none of them are appropriate for a Normal Friendship— especially not one with a thirty-four year old.
robby:
You look good, Dennis.
Genuinely.
Dennis bites his lip at that. That’s better. Softer.
He angles the phone again.
dennis: image attached
This one is closer. The jeans lower. The lace clearer. His thumb hooks casually in the waistband like it just happened to land there.
Caption:
dennis:
better lighting 😌
Robby’s brain short-circuits.
This is a trap. This is definitely a trap.
He stares at the thumb. The lace. The little gold heart.
He is not going to comment on underwear. He is not.
robby:
Lighting’s good.
Dennis sits up so fast he almost drops his phone.
dennis:
THAT’S IT???
Robby winces.
robby:
What do you want me to say?
Dennis types furiously.
Deletes it.
Types again.
Deletes again.
He throws his phone across the bed and snatches it back up just as fast.
dennis → trinity:
I AM FLIRTING SO HARD
trinity:
with robby??
dennis:
YES
I literally sent panty pics
trinity:
WHAT
dennis:
and he said “lighting’s good”
trinity:
maybe he’s trying to be respectful?
dennis:
RESPECTFULLY I AM THROWING MYSELF AT HIM
trinity:
does he know that
dennis:
I AM BEING SO OBVIOUS
trinity:
men are stupid
dennis:
he thinks I’m just showing off my outfit 😭
trinity:
are you?
dennis:
NO
I mean yes
but also no
Back to Robby’s chat.
robby:
You okay?
robby:
Did I say something wrong?
Dennis’s stomach twists. He stares at the screen.
Maybe he did misread this. Maybe Robby really just thinks he’s showing off jeans. Maybe the panties aren’t… anything.
Maybe Robby just doesn’t see him that way.
His reply comes slower.
dennis:
no you’re fine
dennis:
just. idk
Robby frowns.
He re-reads the whole thread. The pictures. The teasing.
There’s no way Dennis is—
No. Stop.
He’s younger. Cute. He probably has people lining up. Why would he be aiming this at you?
Don’t project.
robby:
If something’s up, you can tell me.
Dennis stares at that. His chest feels tight.
His fingers linger over the keyboard for a long time.
Finally:
dennis:
i just feel kind of stupid
robby:
For what?
Dennis hesitates.
dennis:
for thinking i was being obvious
Robby’s heart stutters.
Obvious.
Obvious how?
robby:
Obvious about what?
Dennis’s face burns.
He can’t do it. He can’t just say it.
dennis:
never mind
it’s dumb
Robby runs a hand through his hair.
This is the point where you either stay safe or you risk it.
He looks at the photo again.
The lace. The thumb. The deliberate angle.
Oh.
Oh.
robby:
Dennis.
Were those pictures about more than just asking for my opinion on fashion?
Dennis freezes.
dennis:
…yeah
obviously
i thought that was obvious
dennis:
why else would i ask a fifty-something about style
Robby’s throat goes dry.
robby:
I thought you were just showing me your new jeans.
I didn’t want to… assume.
Dennis’s stomach drops.
dennis:
assume what
Robby stares at the keyboard for a long time.
Eventually, he decides he’s too old for this dance.
robby:
Assume that you were flirting with me.
Because I didn’t want to be some older guy reading into something that wasn’t there.
Dennis blinks at the screen.
dennis:
you thought you were being creepy????
robby:
I didn’t want to be.
There’s a long pause.
dennis:
robby
i literally sent you pictures of my panties
with a gold fucking heart on them
i was not subtle
Robby huffs a laugh, half relief, half disbelief.
robby:
I don’t know how the kids text. Maybe that’s normal for your generation.
Dennis groans into his pillow, aggravated and a little turned on.
dennis:
i was flirting SO hard
trinity said men are stupid and she was right
Robby smiles at that.
robby:
For what it’s worth.
I did notice.
I just didn’t think I was allowed to.
Dennis goes very still.
dennis:
allowed?
Robby swallows.
robby:
You’re young. You’re… you.
I figured you wouldn’t actually want me reacting the way I wanted to.
Dennis sits up slowly.
dennis:
how did you want to react
Robby stares at the screen.
He decides honesty is easier than this weird almost-maybe thing.
robby:
Like it was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Dennis’s breath catches.
dennis:
oh
A beat.
dennis:
you can react like that
please react like that
Robby laughs softly.
robby:
Okay.
Those jeans are unfair on you.
The panties are not “tasteful.” They’re fucking distracting.
Makes me wanna rip them off you.
Dennis’s face is fully red now.
He smiles so wide it hurts.
dennis:
that’s better
A pause.
Then, softer:
dennis:
i thought you just didn’t like me like that
Robby’s reply is immediate.
robby:
Dennis.
I like you very much like that.
Silence on both ends. Heavy. Warm.
dennis:
good
because i bought them specifically with you in mind
Robby exhales, smiling helplessly at his phone.
robby:
You’re going to be the death of me.
dennis:
good thing we’re in the business of saving lives then
worth it?
robby:
Absolutely.