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Dennis’ shift that day started out in a blur.
Patients crowded the lobby, the harsh winter weather ushering in respiratory illness season in full force. Chest x-rays, antibiotics, steroids — many of his patients went home with new prescriptions and instructions to follow up with their primary care physician.
(Whether they did this or not, well… Dennis had no control over that part).
Everything was going relatively smoothly until one of Dennis’ stable patients had gone into cardiac arrest. It was a shock to everyone involved — the patient was only there due to an issue with his AV fistula not working. He was known to their ED already due to his endstage kidney failure, a battle he appeared to have been fighting alone. Dennis never saw any family at his bedside.
Dennis and the team had jumped into action quickly, but after they coded the man for almost 30 minutes straight, they had to stop. It was a scene that he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to — the room was left in complete disarray, as if a tornado had swept through.
He stood there for a moment, sweat drying on his skin. The patient had already been moved out, which left Dennis alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t help the feeling that he had some personal responsibility for this outcome. Surely, there was some sign he had missed, something that he could have done. He felt sick with it; his mind inevitably circled back to another significant patient that had passed away under his care.
Louie, a smiling pillar of their community, who struggled just like everyone else — all alone in the end, wrapped in a white sheet.
Dennis hurried out of the room, feeling like he was about to vomit. He couldn’t tell Robby about these thoughts. The idea of not just his attending, but his partner, seeing him as unfit to be a doctor felt like a knife to the chest. Loss was a normal side effect of being alive, but Dennis felt the need to fix everything — even if it was out of his control.
Too much empathy. Spreading himself thin with nothing left to give.
After he splashed his face with cold water in the bathroom, Dennis dragged himself through the rest of his day. He thought about Robby again and wished he was there; it was a rare off day for him, and Dennis felt untethered without his presence.
If he was being honest, he relied on Robby a little too much sometimes. He felt like a more confident doctor with the older man around, hoarding every drop of praise from him throughout their shifts — whether it was in front of others or in hushed tones.
Good catch, Whitaker. Robby would say, fist bumping him. Later on, he’d find Dennis somewhere less crowded, probably near the break room. Good boy, Robby would murmur in his ear, a hand giving him a quick squeeze on the hip. You’re doing so well today.
His shift could not end fast enough.
Dennis feels dead on his feet by the time he gets home that night, relying on muscle memory alone as he opens the door to his and Robby’s place.
“Dennis?”
Robby sits on the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose. He has his laptop open on the coffee table, some papers scattered about. Robby could never quite remove himself from work, no matter how hard he tried.
Overwhelmed and exhausted, Dennis had no time to reply before he felt his eyes fill with a rush of hot tears. A lump forms in his throat, painful and aching. He can’t speak, for fear that a sob will break through.
He must look pretty pathetic, because Robby is at his side in seconds. “Hey, hey,” Robby gathers him up into a warm embrace, shushing him softly. Dennis sags into his arms like a wilted flower, only held up by Robby’s large hands soothing him all over. He makes a strangled noise, clinging to Robby’s shirt. “I’m here, Den. It’s okay, baby.”
Dennis buries his face into Robby’s chest and finally lets himself cry. It’s as if the stress of the day is pouring out of him, unwinding from his being. He’s not sure how long they stand there, but Dennis is leaning most of his weight onto Robby by the end of it, legs weak like a baby deer.
Robby pulls away a little after he has calmed down, just enough to put a hand on Dennis’ cheek. Dennis can’t ignore the way Robby’s eyes search his face, clearly wanting to know what happened but trying to be patient.
Everything in my ER is my business, Robby’s own words echo in Dennis’ head.
“I’m okay, just—” Dennis starts, wincing at the croak in his voice. “Just a rough day, I guess. I don’t want to talk about it, though. If that’s okay.”
Robby’s expression relaxes into an apology, as if realizing how obvious his face is to Dennis’ trained eye. “Of course, baby,” he replies, petting his curls now. Dennis leans into it like a cat, feeling some relief at Robby’s understanding. “You don’t have to. I have something better for you to do, anyway.”
Dennis perks up at this, grateful for the change in direction. “Yeah?”
Robby leans in closer, their noses almost brushing together. “Mhm. You’re going to go take a nice, hot shower,” his voice dips lowly, hands trailing down Dennis’ arms. Goose flesh erupts in its wake. “You’ll change into the clothes that I put out for you. Dinner will be ready by then, gonna put you on my lap. I’ll feed you myself so you don’t have to use too much of that pretty little head. How’s that sound?”
Dennis is very aware that despite the question at the end, this is not a suggestion — he’s being told.
He barely suppresses a full body shiver at this thought, his mind going numb with it. Robby knows how much Dennis needs this, especially after such a draining shift.
He finally nods mutely in answer, the idea of a shower reminding him that he’s still standing there in his work scrubs. Yuck.
Robby tsks at his nonverbal response, displeased. “Ah, ah. Use your words.”
Something white hot bursts inside Dennis’ chest. “I’m sorry, I—“ he fumbles as if he’s been struck, the thought of Robby’s disapproval making him feel sick. “Please, I want to. Please, sir.” He doesn’t even register that he has gotten onto his knees now, looking up with his watery blue eyes. He finds that it’s not in the usual sexy kind of way — he feels genuinely upset.
Robby’s initial surprised face quickly morphs into concern, caught off guard by Dennis’ reaction.
“Oh, honey,” he quickly guides Dennis off his knees, wrapping him back into a much needed embrace. “It’s okay, I’m not upset with you. Just wanted to tease you a little, I promise. You’re my good boy. So, so, good. My perfect angel.”
Dennis breathes out shakily, a hand gripping Robby’s shirt. Now that the initial sting has gone, he feels silly. Robby had hardly even chastised him, but it felt like a knife to the heart. He usually liked the back and forth between them, but tonight he was feeling entirely off kilter from the day he had.
Robby does finally end up starting the shower for Dennis, but not before having a few more minutes of hugging and praising him a hundred times over.
Dennis is still not used to how attentive Robby is with his emotions, accustomed to a lifetime of burying everything inside and trying to be as unobtrusive to others as possible. It felt nice to finally be known and accepted, even the softest parts of him. Robby cherishes him like he is someone deserving of it.
With that thought in his mind, Dennis closes his eyes and lets the warm water wash over him.
Dennis pads into the kitchen after his shower, pink-faced and refreshed. Robby had left him a comfy pair of sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts. It has a band on it that was on tour before Dennis was even born.
Robby has his back turned, taking a tray out of the oven.
“That smells so good,” Dennis hums in appreciation, hovering behind Robby. The older man doesn’t startle at his sudden entrance, which Dennis is thankful for in hindsight — he would rather not return to the same ER he just spent over twelve hours in. “Wow.”
“Chicken parm,” Robby replies, carefully placing it onto the counter. A pot of water bubbles gently on the stovetop, a box of spaghetti waiting to be emptied inside. Robby then turns around to face him, and his expression softens into something so sweet that it makes Dennis squirm. “Oh, look at you all cleaned up. My pretty boy.”
Dennis inhales as Robby brings him into a hug, slotting right into place in his arms. They’re like two magnets, unable to remain apart. Robby buries his face into Dennis’ damp hair, leaving little kisses onto his curls. The fluttery sensation brings a laugh out of Dennis, which Robby clearly takes as a challenge — he pulls back and takes Dennis’ face fully into his hands, peppering quick kisses all over him. Robby’s beard tickles his skin along the way.
“Ah—!” Dennis’ voice pitches upward at the onslaught, hands grasping at Robby’s shoulders. “Robby!”
“You’re so—“ Robby suddenly hoists Dennis up into his arms, ignoring the other man’s immediate protests. He carries him out of the kitchen and plops him down onto his seat at the dinner table. “—so, so distracting.”
Dennis is just as out of breath, his eyes half lidded. He feels so fuzzy and warm, all of his focus being set on Robby. Being put where Robby wants him, listening to Robby, being good for Robby; his headspace from earlier rushes back in full swing, his mind fogging back over. It’s a familiar and welcome feeling.
Robby clearly sees this shift in Dennis, too. “Oh, my sweet boy,” he coos, cradling Dennis’ cheek in one hand. Dennis mindlessly leans into it, soft and looselimbed. He eats up Robby’s attention like a man starving. “That’s all it takes, huh?”
Dennis hums, looking back at Robby with round, glistening blue eyes.
Robby lets out a breath, seemingly just as affected. “Wait here, sweetheart. Dinner is almost finished.”
Robby brings out two bowls of pasta, the steam fogging up his glasses along the way.
Dennis is sitting right where Robby had left him, leaning his head on one hand. He blinks sleepily at Robby as he enters, too tired to say a word. It had only been a few minutes, but Dennis was coming down hard from his stressful day.
“I know, baby,” Robby soothes, sitting onto the chair next to Dennis. “C‘mere. There we go.”
Robby slides Dennis onto his lap, being careful not to knock anything over on the table. Dennis immediately clings tightly like a koala, tucking his face into Robby’s neck with a little satisfied sigh. It's very cute, but it’s not a great position for eating chicken parm.
“Hey, you,” Robby laughs, running his hands along Dennis’ back. He’s careful about disciplining, knowing that Dennis needs a gentle approach right now. Robby is a soft old man at heart, so it works out perfectly for them. “What did I say, hm? We have to eat dinner before we cuddle, okay?”
Dennis whines at this, but he still removes his face from Robby’s neck without much protest.
“There we go. Such a good boy.” The words fall naturally from Robby’s lips, familiar and true. Dennis’ cheeks redden, still so shy with Robby’s praise after all this time.
Robby starts to cut up Dennis’ chicken now, their food no longer too hot to eat.
“Open.” A bite of chicken with a swirl of pasta rests on the fork.
Dennis’ lips part obediently, taking the proffered food into his mouth without a word. “Mm,” he makes a little noise of approval, chewing happily.
Robby’s chest warms at the sight. “Yeah? Is it good?”
Dennis nods enthusiastically, like he’s got a bobble head. He swallows. “Mhm, s’good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Den,” Robby smiles, pleased. “You’re so sweet.”
Robby continues to feed Dennis, quickly taking bites of his own food in between. The quiet between them feels calm, and Robby is grateful — it seems that Dennis is finally getting to relax. This dynamic between them has become its own form of therapy (not that Robby would know much about that…). They both fell into their roles so naturally at the beginning, it’s as if they’ve never known anything different.
Dennis is half asleep by the time they finish up. His eyelashes flutter as he chews on his last bite, casting shadows on his pale cheeks.
“Done?”
Dennis nods, leaning back onto Robby’s chest. He lets out a big sigh, sinking further against him like a deflated balloon.
Robby gently grabs Dennis’ chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting his face towards him. Dennis’ eyes are red rimmed and glossy, unable to focus properly.
“Sooo sleepy, baby,” Robby murmurs, feeling a pang in his chest. “Must have been a rough day. Even by our standards, huh?”
Dennis doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to.
Robby sighs, pressing a tender kiss onto Dennis’ forehead. He lets go of his chin, and Dennis curls back against him without a word. With his cheek sweetly squished against Robby’s chest, the protective feeling that washes over Robby feels like a surge of electricity.
He holds Dennis closer and pretends that this quiet moment will never end.
Robby ends up having to place Dennis onto the couch for a few minutes, just enough time to allow him to clean up the dishes.
When he returns to the living room, he is surprised to see an awake and alert Dennis. He’s sitting up on the same cushion Robby had left him on, TV remote in hand. Flashes of colors dance along the dimly lit walls as the screen plays some late night show, nothing Robby can parse. He can just make out a tinny laugh track playing after every joke.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Robby says, sliding next to Dennis on the couch. Dennis seems to be surprised by his presence, just now looking away from the glowing TV screen. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m,” Dennis starts, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat. They lock eyes, and it takes everything in Robby not to scoop him up into a hug right then and there. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” Robby smiles softly, bumping their shoulders together. Dennis still seems to be fuzzy-headed, not quite able to express himself properly. He looks so, so tired. Robby is surprised that he’s still awake. “You don’t have to know, baby. I don’t know a lot of things.”
Dennis sighs, his eyebrows pinched together. He appears lost in thought, eyes drawn back to the TV as he chews on his thumbnail. With his knees drawn up to his chest, he looks so small.
“Hey,” Robby opens up his arms, turning back towards Dennis expectantly. “C’mere.”
As if he’s been waiting for this invitation all day, Dennis folds into Robby’s embrace, tucking his face into his neck. Robby buries his face into Dennis’ curls for a moment and breathes, the clean scent of shampoo tickling his nose.
They sit in silence for some time, both pretending to watch whatever is playing on the screen. Robby thinks Dennis may have finally fallen asleep until he hears a loud sniffle against his shoulder, followed by a shaky exhale.
“Hey, hey,” Robby tightens his arms around Dennis’ trembling form, the younger man practically in his lap now. “Shhhh.”
Dennis isn’t quite crying like before, but he’s choking back wet sounds in his throat, tensed up and shaking. Robby places a steadying hand behind Dennis’ head, gently rocking the two of the back and forth.
It takes a minute before Dennis starts to settle back down, his breathing slowing to normal. Robby sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of Dennis’ head. He tries and fails not to imagine what may have gotten the younger man so upset today. It digs at his brain, pointed and unrelenting.
“Let’s head to bed, baby,” Robby gently suggests, his hand rubbing slow circles onto Dennis’ back. “You need the rest.”
Dennis doesn’t argue with that. “Okay,” he sighs, moving like he’s about to slide off Robby’s lap. “Oh—!”
Robby hooks his arms underneath Dennis’ knees and stands up, princess-carrying him to their bedroom. Dennis holds on tightly, not putting up any fuss like he did before.
He’s gently placed onto the bed, like a porcelain doll. Without much fanfare, Robby strips off his shirt and gets into the bed, opening up the covers in invitation for Dennis to cuddle in.
Without missing a beat, Dennis slots himself into Robby’s arms, his face pressed against Robby’s chest. He lets out a prolonged sigh, his breath hot on Robby’s skin.
“Biiiig sigh,” Robby hums, chuckling a little. He puts a heavy hand onto the back of Dennis’ neck, kneading some pressure onto the tight muscle there. Dennis lets out a muffled moan. “There we go. Just relax.”
Dennis finally slips away into sleep after a few minutes more of Robby’s soothing caresses, mouth slightly ajar and snoring softly. He looks so sweet like this, safe and pliant in Robby’s embrace.
Robby exhales, running his fingers through Dennis’ soft curls. Even though it kills him inside, he has to trust that Dennis will open up to him sooner rather than later. He tries so hard not to fixate on it, but the thoughts swirl around in his head with reckless abandon.
Dennis is not closed off or jaded like many of the ED staff they work with (Robby included). He has an empathetic soul, kind and caring for every patient he comes across despite all the madness they face. Dennis practically gives a piece of himself to some of their patients; it may as well be stapled to their discharge paperwork.
It’s not sustainable. Robby knows this firsthand.
With that last thought settling heavy in his chest, Robby follows Dennis into sleep.