Chapter Text
"You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, But also the worst thing that’s happened to me."
Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch is no stranger to getting too close to people. He's in his fifties, a older man. With wisdom and experience. He's done it all. Fell fast, fell hard. Robby has fallen for the wrong people, and the right people. He knows what it feels like to be on both ends of heartbreak. Maybe that is why he didn't have his guard up when he first met Dennis Whitaker, didn't turn and run the moment he saw those eyes.
"The day I met you, I might’ve wished, That day had never come."
Dennis Whitaker. One of the new interns then. In his mid twenties. Far too young, but something inside Robby kind of liked that. That beautiful very short glistening brown hair on his head. Those damn wet pathetic puppy dog eyes with heavy bags always hanging under them. He was eager, excited. He was also a nervous wreck. He was dangerous to Robby's heart. But Robby let him in, just a little. He kept him both in and out of a arms length reach. The older man knew better then to play like, knew the consequences. It didn't stop him, even when he told himself this was a bad idea.
And now, months later? He was hotter. Dennis Whitaker's hair had grown a little, his curls got more defined, his posture a little taller. He was a little more confident, almost bratty. He was a resident now, guiding interns. It drove Robby insane seeing him become even more appealing somehow. It didn't help he still looked up at Robby like Robby could hold the world in his palms. Like Robby was his whole world.
Robby knew he made a mistake letting Whitaker to close to his heart the more he noticed Whitakers feelings for him grow stronger. He needed to keep everyone at an arms length. It was how he kept himself safe. He wasn’t going to change that for some damn teary eyed resident.
“The worst of blessings, the most beautiful curse.”
“I should walk away from you.”
Robby today had the resident working close to him. He told himself it was just his job as the attending to check over everyone. He couldn’t even lie in his own brain. He was barely paying attention to the patient, barely focused on anything that wasn't the kid beside him.
Whitaker smelled like the forests of Nebraska, like cool rain did when sitting on your patio. Whitaker smelled refreshing and new and comforting. He wanted to drown himself in it. Drown himself in Dennis-
“Doctor Robby?”
Robby snapped out of it, hearing his name on the young mans tongue. He looked up and Whitaker was looking up at him expectantly, he seemed to have a little hope in his eyes.
“Uh- Yeah, kid?” Robby chastised himself for getting so distracted, and chastised himself for how he moved subtly closer.
“I was just wondering, uhm. Are you going to the bar with everyone else tonight?” Right. Somebody had decided that tonight would be a great night to go out, soon enough half the Pitt was planning on going.
“I don’t know… are you?” Robby cursed himself internally for being so obvious. He wanted to know if that damn kid would be there. He hadn't even considered the idea of going before the thought Whitaker might crossed his mind.
“I mean. Maybe.” He smiles, a cute smile that puts Robby in a daze. One that Robby will probably think of tonight when he's in his bed, hand around his-
“But as the saying goes: Better to be poorly accompanied than to be alone.”
Robby ends up going to the damn bar. And well he doesn’t bother pretending that he’s here for anything other than Whitaker. He practically ignores Dana and Abbot, his eyes scan the room in search of the young man.
Whitaker was there, of course with Trinity Santos by his side. The two young adults were drinking and laughing, Santos teasing Whitaker about something. He looked so fucking beautiful. Robby's feet move on their own accord, his heart dragging him to the young resident who can't seem to leave his mind.
Robby ‘casually’ makes his way over. He stands beside Whitaker, trying to still his beating heart.
“So you decided to come.”
Robby hates (loves) the way Whitaker’s eyes just lit up when he saw Robby. Santos sticks her tongue out but Robby practically doesn't even notice her.
“So did you.” Whitaker smiled, red blush spreading across his face. Robby wonders if he can make him smile like that more.
“I guess I did.” Robby smiled despite himself.
“You know what they say: Keep your closest friends near, but keep your enemies even closer.”
They dance. Robby’s hands stay firmly on Whitaker’s body, refusing to leave for even a moment. Tension builds between them as they get closer and closer. Whitaker’s hands cling to Robby’s clothes as if he’s afraid Robby will run if he lessens his grip for even a second.
Robby isn’t sure he could ever run away. Not for long anyway. He will keep coming back to Dennis Whitaker.
“But my dearest enemy is you. Run away from me, it’s you and me that’s the problem.”
They find the closest bathroom. Robby’s hands stay firmly over Whitaker wrist, dragging him like a ragdoll into the biggest empty stall and locking it. He needs him, he needs him badly dammit.
Whitaker kisses him, and he kisses back feverishly, passionately. When the young man’s lips part, he takes full advantage to explore his mouth, deepening the kiss, desperately trying to find every single inch of him, trying to taste and take it all greedily. Heat pools in his stomach the messier the kisses get.
“But if you still search for my voice, forget me, it’s you and me that’s the problem.”
He managed to pull away. Somehow. Whitaker begins to talk, pupils dilated and drool still connecting them together. But Robby doesn’t let him finish.
He turns and runs before Whitaker can stop or even think to follow. He knows he’s such an asshole. But he can’t stay. Can’t leave, either though.
“Why does your name still hurt me, when it lingers in the air, just there in the silence?”
When Whitaker’s name pops up in his phone notifications before he’s even gotten far out of the building, he deleted it before he can force himself to read it. He runs, like he always does.
“Is this hate, or tenderness, when I hear your name?”
“I told you to not look back.”
“The past that follows you will wage its war.”
Robby managed to make it back home, somehow, even in his daze. He sits down. He can still feel the warmth of Whitaker’s soft lips, the heat of their tongues desperately clinging together, he can still feel the man’s body beneath his palms. And he wants it again so badly.
He pants softly, the heat pooling in his stomach churning. He feels nauseated and aroused in the best and worst ways.
“But my Dearest enemy is you.”
“Run away from me, it’s you and me that’s the problem.”
“But my dearest enemy is you.”
“Run away from me, it’s you and me that’s the problem.”
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Dr. Robby: I’m sorry about earlier. Come over?
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Whitaker: Okay.
