Archive of Our Own

1.

It starts with a throwaway comment that, even as he’s saying it, Robby can realize is probably too far. It’s been six months since the day he was supposed to leave for his sabbatical that never came to be, four months since Robby returned to work after completing the Partial Hospitalization Program that he attended instead, and three months since he graduated from his Intensive Outpatient Program.

They’re treating a patient with a simple broken thumb, but Frank thinks the guy seems foggy-headed, and he wants to order him a CT.

“Not everything is the sign of an underlying problem,” Robby hisses at him. But if he thinks about it for a moment, Frank is probably right.

This is how Robby winds up getting pulled aside at work by Jack, who very gently but firmly takes it upon himself to tell Robby that he fucked up.

“You’re too hard on him,” Jack says. “I’m not saying it’s not warranted, but everyone can tell that it’s personal. You have to do something about it.”

The something in question is a plan that Jack already hatched up with Cassie, unbeknownst to Robby, which he presents to Robby the very next day while Cassie is talking to Frank. As it turns out, there is a secret underground club at PTMC, and they’ve been up and running for a while.

There is a small group of them who call themselves the Swoony Hearts Club (which makes Robby gag), and they meet once a week to watch and discuss romantic comedy movies together. Jack’s at the helm of it, but Robby isn’t surprised that he was never told or invited. Rom-coms just aren’t his thing.

“I’m not going to this club,” Robby tells Jack when he brings it up. “Especially if Langdon’s going to be there.”

And sure, Robby isn’t immune to feedback. He can lay off of Frank for a while if that’s what it takes. But he’s not going to join some ridiculous club where they watch romantic comedy movies and try to use them to fix his long-destroyed friendship with Frank. The idea is laughable.

But then, later that day, he gets cornered. Robby is treating a patient with Dennis at the time, and it’s easy and comfortable like it always is with him. It’s been like this even more so since after Robby’s failed sabbatical plan. Dennis never actually moved into Robby’s place, but there’s since been this lingering familiarity between the two of them.

Robby knows he’s trapped when Jack swings into the room to check on their patient. On his way out, Jack says, “Whitaker, how do you feel about rom-coms?”

Dennis pauses a moment, looking confused, and then he turns to Robby like he might know what Jack is talking about. Robby gives him a shrug and a grimace in return.

“I love The Princess Bride,” Dennis says after a moment. Robby grins in spite of himself.

“The Princess Bride is an excellent movie,” Robby says. “I wouldn’t call it a rom-com, though.”

Dennis looks surprised to hear Robby disagree with him like that, which takes Robby aback for a moment. Surely he disagrees with Dennis sometimes, right? And anyways, this isn’t about him—Jack just needs to know that Robby has absolutely zero interest in joining this club. But Dennis doesn’t push back at all. He just quietly returns his focus to the unconscious patient.

“Oh, come on,” Jack says. “It has romance. It has comedy. Maybe you’ll like other movies with romance and comedy in them.”

Robby can see Dennis starting to realize that this conversation is about something else, something bigger that doesn’t really involve him. He can feel him checking out, so even though Robby wants to drop the conversation as quickly as possible, he finds himself explaining the situation to Dennis.

“Abbot here wants me to join PTMC’s secret, underground rom-com club,” Robby says. Dennis raises his eyebrows, and a corner of his mouth turns up.

“What does that entail, exactly?” Dennis asks.

“Great question, Dr. Whitaker,” Robby commends. Dennis’ smile widens.

“It’s nothing weird,” Abbot says. “We get together once a week. We watch a romantic comedy. We eat snacks. It’s nice.”

“That does sound nice,” Dennis agrees too quickly. Et tu, Brute? “So what’s the problem?”

“It’s a trap,” Robby says. And then he pauses, because he feels weird talking about Frank like this. Robby and Frank haven’t been friends for a long time, but it feels a little like a betrayal all the same, the idea of telling someone who didn’t know Frank before his addiction about his frustrations towards him.

“Whitaker,” Jack says, “If you saw two former friends fighting, and you wanted to invite them both to a weekly movie night to help kick off the healing, is that a trap?”

“Ah,” Dennis says, giving Robby an understanding look.

“Oh, yes,” Robby says.

“I’m not stepping foot in that one,” Dennis says. Robby smirks at him, and Dennis ducks his head, his cheeks going pink.

“Probably a wise choice,” Jack says. Then, to Robby, Jack adds, “You’re not getting out of this one, Bud.”

“You’re not going to save me?” Robby jokes to Dennis, who turns beet red.

“What is but one against the many,” Dennis says.

“And there we have it,” Jack says. And then, when he can tell he’s got Robby, he says, “McKay got Langdon to agree to attend through the end of February. That’s seven weeks. You can handle seven weeks.”

So this is a trap after all, and Robby supposes that he really is going to the movie night. And the next six after that. And Robby knows that Jack’s just looking after him, in his own way. After all, the last time Jack butted into Robby’s life, he saved it. And yeah, this is already six months longer than Robby had thought he was going to live. But he also was subjected to months and months of intensive group therapy, and he’s still undergoing weekly individual therapy, and now he’s going to be stuck watching rom-coms every week for the next two months.

And that’s that, for the time being. But that coming Saturday night, when Jack has the night off, he joins a group of the day shift for the movie club. Robby isn’t able to get out of it by then, so he finds himself driving to Cassie’s house for the first rom-com night. He can’t remember the last time he watched a romantic comedy, or the last time he willingly hung out with Frank. The whole thing is ridiculous.

Robby is a few minutes late, and he’s the last one there. The group is as follows: the regular crowd, which apparently consists of Cassie, Jack, Samira, Princess, Perlah, and Donnie. Apparently, they’ve been meeting for months now.

In addition to the regulars and Robby is Frank, of course, and he brought Mel with him, too. Robby didn’t even know they were allowed to bring a plus one. Then again, Frank can’t seem to be able to go anywhere without Mel these days, and Robby’s heard that they’ve become best friends outside of work, too.

“Hey, Robby,” Frank says carefully.

“Hi, Dr. Robby,” Mel says, ever the professional, even outside of work hours. Not that he’s hung out with Mel outside of work before, so he supposes it makes sense.

“Hey, Langdon, Mel,” he says. And then he adds, “You know, Mel, you can call me Robby when we’re not at the hospital.”

She nods in response, but she and Frank exchange a look that tells Robby that she probably won’t be doing that. Frank then finds a spot for him and Mel on Cassie’s couch, and he and Mel sit down. They’re so in-sync, without even realizing it. They’re like that in the ER, too, but Robby didn’t realize they were like this all the time.

“Thanks for coming tonight, Everybody,” Cassie says when they’ve all settled down and found their seats.

“You’ve Got Mail is a true classic, so naturally, we’ve all seen it before. Except these two,” she says, gesturing to Robby and Frank. “Everyone sit back and enjoy the film. Talking is encouraged.”

But Robby doesn’t enjoy the film. Everyone else does, including Frank. Cassie, Princess, Perlah, Samira, and Donnie keep interjecting their commentary throughout, clearly all having seen the movie dozens of times. Jack keeps turning to check on Robby throughout, while Cassie keeps checking on Frank—who’s completely focused on Mel.

Frank is driving Robby crazy asking Mel the dumbest clarifying questions throughout, like about why Tom Hanks doesn’t tell Meg Ryan it’s him after he sees her sitting at the restaurant. But Mel is patient and earnest, answering every single one in a quiet voice meant just for him.

Mel has a lot of patience for Frank, and it doesn’t seem to bother her that he’s asking her constant stupid questions throughout the movie, but Robby’s suspected for a while that Mel has a crush on Frank. He hopes Frank lets her down easy instead of leading her on, but maybe he just doesn’t realize how she feels. It’s none of Robby’s business, anyhow.

Whereas Robby is counting down the minutes until he can leave, Frank doesn’t seem to mind being there at all. Robby wonders if they had to let him bring Mel in order for him to agree to go, or if Frank just genuinely wanted to be there, and he wanted to share the experience with Mel.

Robby just feels so out of place. He doesn’t want to be there, not just with Frank, but at all. He wishes he were back home watching sitcom reruns by himself. He longs to leave early to go back to his place, and he wishes he could fake an emergency.

As rom-coms go, Robby supposes he can see objectively why You’ve Got Mail is considered to be one of the classics. It’s funny enough, and he likes the pen pals aspect of it. He thinks it’s ridiculous and unrealistic that they end up together after Tom Hanks drives Meg Ryan out of business, though. He would never forgive someone who pulled that shit on the ER.

At the end of the night, everyone leaves, even Jack, until it’s just Cassie (obviously), and Robby, Frank, and Mel. Frank and Mel are waiting like Frank wants to say something to Robby, but Robby isn’t interested in having this conversation.

“So, goodnight,” Robby rushes out, hightailing it out of there. Frank doesn’t follow. And as Robby drives home that night, he decides that the next six weeks are going to be very long.

2. 

Robby could at least try to put in a little effort, but Frank has a feeling that he’s going to treat the next six weeks like he’s having his teeth pulled. Frank, to his credit, is giving the rom-com club everything he can. When Cassie first brought the idea up to him, he didn’t have time to form an opinion about it. He was treating a patient with Mel, and he already knew that she loved rom-coms, so he wasn’t surprised when she lit up at the thought of the club.

When Cassie told Frank about the rom-com club, it had been an hour since Robby had most recently snapped at him, five months since Frank and Abby had officially signed the divorce papers (amicably after what had been a long time coming, and with an arrangement that worked for them of regularly passing the kids and the dog back and forth), and six months since he’d returned to work post-rehab.

As soon as Cassie brought up the club, Frank had asked her if he could bring Mel with him, but Mel had interrupted before Cassie could answer.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Mel had said. “I don’t want to overstep when I’m not invited.”

She had said it matter-of-factly, not bothered by the fact that she wasn’t invited. It had bothered Frank, though. Since returning to the hospital after rehab, he’d been notably left out of invitations to social stuff outside of the hospital, time and time again. He met with Cassie regularly for coffee to check in about their sobriety, and he and Mel hung out all the time, but that was it.

Frank had long ago accepted that he would be excluded; he felt like he’d more than earned it. He didn’t understand why they never included Mel, though. He wondered if it was guilt by association for being so close to him, but in that case, she should’ve been invited to the rom-com club meetings right alongside him.

But Cassie had automatically agreed to let Mel come, and Frank wouldn’t have gone without her anyways, so that was that. In normal circumstances, he would’ve just been grateful to be included, no matter what movies they were watching. If the whole thing was designed to get him and Robby talking again, though, he wanted one person there who he’d know would have his back, and that was Mel. Even if they all ganged up on him, he knew she would stand by him. Plus, it would be much more fun with her there. Everything was.

Right after Cassie left the room that day, Mel had said, “You didn’t need to do that. I would feel like I’m being intrusive if I show up when I wasn’t invited.”

“I invited you,” Frank had corrected her.

“I know,” she’d said. “And I know you always want me around, but—” and then she’d paused, panicking. “Or, that’s not what I—”

“Hey,” Frank had said softly. “I do always want you around. And I knew what you meant. But we’re going to have fun. And if we hate it, we can always bail, alright?”

Mel had grinned then, and his stomach had done a funny little flip.

“I always want you around, too,” she’d said, and then, “How will we know the other person wants to bail?”

The code word was marmalade, but they hadn’t had to use it for the first meeting. Robby had been quiet and sulky all throughout You’ve Got Mail, but everyone else was actually really nice. Frank had enjoyed the movie, and he spent the whole time talking to Mel, and occasionally joking around with Cassie, Samira, Donnie, Princess, and Perlah. It was really nice.

Now, a week later, Frank is considering calling marmalade. The movie tonight is Abbot’s choice: 27 Dresses, which Mel had told Frank beforehand is a really great movie, except for one scene where one of the sisters publicly humiliates the other.

The first sign that the night is going to be a disaster is that it’s held at Abbot’s house. Abbot is always professional with Frank, and he’s got a relaxed way about him anyways, but he’s firmly on Robby’s side through and through. This makes it generally awkward for Frank to be spending time with him outside of work, even though Abbot was one of the people who insisted on dragging Robby into this whole thing in the first place to try to get him and Frank to get along again.

It won’t work, Frank knows that; but it is nice to be included. And, unfortunately, he’s always been a person who can’t ever really shake that last shred of hope, even though his friendship with Robby has been over for a long time. At the very least, maybe these club meetings can put them on better professional terms again.

Robby is sulking again, tuned out and clearly not wanting to be there. And then at one point, everyone goes off on a tangent about the boss in the movie, who Katherine Heigl’s character is in love with before she meets James Marsden, and before her boss starts dating her sister. Thank goodness PTMC isn’t that messy, is what Frank thinks. But this turns into everyone jokingly ragging on Robby for whatever reason that Frank has tuned out for, which Frank knows better than to do, and which Mel wouldn’t participate in anyways.

So it’s nothing big, but it makes Frank feel especially isolated and out of place. Mel nudges his foot with hers, and he looks over at her.

“You okay?” she asks softly. And in spite of everything, he finds himself grinning at her, to which she automatically grins back.

“Yeah,” he says. And then, “I know these movies aren’t supposed to be realistic, but how the hell does she have enough closet room for all those bridesmaid dresses?” Which makes her laugh, and then he knows everything is going to be okay.

Robby still won’t speak to him, the rest of the group is nice but in a way that makes him feel like a pity invite, and Frank feels out of place once again. But Mel is there, and they’re out of place together, which is just a really nice fucking thing to have.

3. 

By the third week, Robby’s decided that he’s not going to be able to handle the rest of this without backup. He finds his ideal selection of company at the hospital early that week, and he waits until Dennis has a free moment to follow him into the break room.

“Do you want to do me a favor?” Robby asks in lieu of greeting. And then, realizing how familiar this sounds, he adds, “Déjà vu.”

Dennis grins at him and takes a seat across from him.

“The last time you asked me for a favor in this room, it was really just a favor for me in disguise as a favor for you,” Dennis says. Robby laughs.

“I suppose you could say that, but this one is a real favor.”

“Try me,” Dennis says with a lift of his eyebrow.

“I need you to come to the rom-com club with me this week,” Robby says.

“How bad is it?”

“Terrible. Painful. I may not be able to go on,” Robby says. It’s probably stupid, playing up the drama like this, but it makes Dennis laugh, at least.

“You make it sound really appealing,” Dennis says, joking. And Robby almost thinks he’s got him, but then Dennis says in a more serious voice, “I can’t hang out with Langdon without Santos. I mean, she says that they’re coexisting just fine now, and he did give her a really sincere apology where he even thanked her for saving his life, but I still feel like that would be shitty.”

“So bring her,” Robby says automatically. A surprised laugh bursts out of Dennis.

“I can already see how that would go,” Dennis says.

“I’m serious,” Robby says. “Bring her with you. Langdon and I are basically just playing chicken to see who will bow out first, and anyways, Abbot said I could bring anyone within reason.”

“You know, her favorite movie is a rom-com,” Dennis says, “But I still think it would be too weird.”

“Just talk to her,” Robby says, his hopes starting to lift. Santos isn’t one to back down from a challenge, and from what he’s heard, she’s usually in on whatever group hangouts the rest of the hospital staff does together. He has a feeling that Dennis will be able to convince her, and then Robby will be able to get him to agree to come.

This is how Robby finds himself showing up to Princess’ later that week for How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, with Dennis (his plus one), Santos (Dennis’ plus one), and Javadi (Santos’ plus one) all in tow.

“Wow, Robby, you brought half the hospital with you,” Princess jokes, and then she says something to Perlah in Tagalog.

The rest of the crowd is the same as usual. Everyone else is already there, and there’s not much room for them all. Santos and Robby both get seats on the couch, but Dennis and Javadi sit on the ground at their feet. Dennis is just a couple of inches away from Robby’s shins. He could lean forward and kick him, or else hook his legs over Dennis’ shoulders and pull him closer. Robby shakes the thought.

It's better this time. He’s still not sold on these movies, but everyone is very talkative in the big crowd, and the tone feels especially lighter than usual.

Frank is nice to everyone that night. Robby has known for a while that he apologized to Santos last summer and that they’ve been working well enough together since, but that there’s still an awkwardness there. Frank puts in the effort tonight, though, which Robby can tell isn’t easy for him. He notices that Mel keeps watching Frank like she’s worried about him.

Maybe this is why Robby finally throws Frank a bone.

Frank has been quiet and careful during every one of these movie nights now, treading lightly and barely commenting during the movies, except for when he’s talking to Mel.

At one point, Donnie says, “Ben sticking around after Andie tells his mother she loves her is the most unrealistic part of the movie.”

To this, Frank grins and fires back, “I know he has a promotion on the line, but I can’t believe Matthew McConaughey stayed after the love fern.”

Robby then jumps in and jokes back to him, going, “The dog should’ve been the real final straw.”

Frank looks shocked, but he responds in turn with another joke of his own, pointing out the dog’s unfortunate name.

And the air really is light then after that, with everyone joking around and talking even more than before. Dennis nudges Robby’s shin with his elbow then, and Robby leans down so that he can hear him.

“That was nice of you,” Dennis whispers.

“I can be nice,” Robby whispers back.

“I know that. You’re always nice to me.”

And then Robby sits back up, and they go back to watching the movie. He supposes that that’s true, but he hadn’t realized it until now. He doesn’t really go out of his way to be nice to anyone other than his patients, but he guesses it comes naturally with Dennis. He likes surprising him, making him smile, and catching him off-guard with something that he knows will make him happy.

Frank later finds Robby alone in the kitchen during a snack break.

“Hey,” Frank says nervously, clearly getting ready to have a heavy conversation with him. Robby knows all the signs. He’s fidgeting with his hands and looking down at the ground, and his voice is shaky.

But Robby has no interest in going in circles with Frank. He can see that Frank has put in the work to get better since that day a year and four months ago, and he has. Robby can see it in the way that Frank is calmer, steadier, less confident but more grounded. He can see the work Frank has put in to keep has sobriety, can see his continued struggle with his back pain, the occasional brain fog he gets. Robby knows there’s more to what Frank’s been dealing with than he knows, that Frank works hard to hide it, even though he makes himself be vulnerable about it, too.

Robby knows Frank is different now. He’s not even angry with him anymore, not for the drugs, or the stealing, or even for what he said about Robby’s panic attack that night. It’s just too hard to be around him, especially as he watches Frank heal. Robby’s been healing, too. He did the work, and he spent every day for eight fucking weeks learning about Dialectical Behavior Therapy and doing all the fucking worksheets.

The problem is, the final step of change is maintenance. You put in the work, and you get better, and then you have to keep putting in the work every single fucking day, and if you slip up even a little, you lose your progress and have to do it all over again. Frank, for all his flaws, has been putting in the maintenance. Robby has not, not fully. And it pisses him off to be around him.

So Robby doesn’t want to have another deep conversation, and he can’t handle another apology. Maybe that’s why, just this once, he makes it easier on both of them.

“What’s with these movies, huh?” Robby says. Frank tilts his head to the side like a confused dog.

“The movies,” Frank repeats. Robby can tell that he’s surprised that Robby isn’t giving him shit, or avoiding talking to him, or giving him shit then avoiding talking to him any further. Robby is surprised, too.

“Yeah,” Robby says. “I’ve never seen this many rom-coms in my entire life. Are they all like this, with two people who can’t stand each other, deceive each other, and then wind up falling in love and just putting it all behind them?”

Frank pauses for a moment, hesitating, like Robby’s just set a trap for him. Like maybe there’s a deeper meaning to his words. But then he just tries for a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Nah,” Frank says. “Although it’s weird that all the ones we’ve seen so far have been like that. I’m not a big rom-com person, but I’ve seen more than you. Sometimes it’s guy meets girl, guy hits girl with car, they fall in love instantly, only to meet again a day later when she’s planning his wedding to someone else.”

“Well, shit,” Robby says, a surprised laugh bursting out of him. “You made that up.”

“No, it’s real,” Frank says, a genuine smile forming on his face this time. “It’s called The Wedding Planner. Jennifer Lopez is the wedding planner, and Matthew McConaughey is the terrible driver.”

“Again with McConaughey,” Robby says. “How many rom-coms is he even in?”

“Just the two, I think, and maybe one with Sarah Jessica Parker.”

“Since when do you know so much about rom-coms?”

“I’ve seen a fair amount with Mel,” Frank says. “We do a lot of movie nights. Becca likes comedies, so we’ll do standard comedies or rom-coms with her.”

This surprises Robby. Not that Frank and Mel hang out so much, because he knows they’re very close. It really just surprises Robby because Frank is not free with information about himself these days. He’s very careful with what he shares now, especially with Robby, so even him sharing something this small means something.

Maybe that’s why Robby asks a follow-up question.

“What do you and Mel usually watch together?”

“A lot of horror,” Frank says.

“Huh,” Robby says. “Wouldn’t have pegged Mel as a horror fan.”

And Frank’s smile grows big and familiar then.

“Oh yeah, she loves them. She’s a lot tougher than I am.”

“That I can believe,” Robby says.

And then they both laugh, and there’s a moment there where it almost feels like it used to. Almost. But not quite. Not really.

“So, we should probably go back in and watch the rest of the movie,” Robby says. And the light deflates in Frank’s eyes, but he nods, and the two of them go back to the main room.

The movie doesn’t get much better in Robby’s opinion, but as movie nights go, this one doesn’t turn out to be that terrible, if Robby’s being honest.

4.

For Frank and Robby’s fourth week in the club, they’re supposed to all go to Perlah’s house to watch Notting Hill. The day before, though, Frank finds out that Perlah asked Robby to host instead, and that Robby reluctantly agreed. Frank is not looking forward to going to Robby’s house, but he feels like the two of them were able to make a little progress last week, so maybe it won’t be so bad.

During a slow moment at work that day, though, Mel walks up to Frank and signals for him to leave the main area of the ER to go talk to her. He catches it in her mannerisms right away, that she’s concerned about something, and he hurries to follow her to the break room.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asks softly.

“Tomorrow night, it’s a trap,” Mel says.

He’s not sure what that means, but he’s relieved that it’s not something more serious.

“The SHC meeting?” He asks. When she nods, he says, “How? Is Robby not hosting?”

“No, he is, but Perlah didn’t need to cancel. Everyone dropped out at the last minute, and they’re planning on not showing up, so that it will just be you and Dr. Robby there. They think it will speed-run fixing things between you two.”

Frank thinks on this for a moment, and he can’t help but laugh.

“They’re Parent Trap-ing us?” That’s a rom-com he’s seen dozens of times, because Tanner and Penny have always loved it.

“Yes,” Mel says, “But I’m not sure that they see the irony in it. Or the potential impending signs of disaster.”

“How did you find out?” Frank asks. Mel pulls out her phone and shows him a group text thread consisting of Cassie, Abbot, Princess, Perlah, Donnie, Samira, Santos, Javadi, and Mel. Frank then looks through the thread.

Perlah: No club this week. Sudden “emergency” but don’t tell Robby or Langdon :)

Cassie: Ha ha!

Jack: good call :p thanks for spearheading

Donnie: messy, messy, messy

Princess: [smoking duck gif]

Mel: Thanks for letting us know. Hope all is okay. Why can’t we tell them?

Perlah: Thanks Mel, everything is fine. We’re just playing set up to help them work things out

There are more texts, a lot more, and they’re still coming through, but Frank has seen enough. He thinks he should probably feel hurt about the planning and the private group chat, and he does think that the plan is a little much, but he’s surprisingly touched at the idea of their coworkers going out of their way to fix things for Frank with Robby. Mostly, he’s just touched that Mel told him right away, and that even for a good reason, she couldn’t bring herself to keep something from him. She always has his back.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says. He says it lightly, a little as a joke, even though he means it. But her returning smile is a little sad.

“I think that you deserve a lot more than you let yourself believe,” she says. He clears his throat.

“Well, thanks for the head-up, Mel, seriously. I think I’m still going to go tomorrow night. This might be a good thing.”

And shit, her smile then… it might kill him. He’s taken her by surprise, and she’s grinning like she knows he’s doing something stupid, but she also looks a little proud of him.

“Oh, okay. Are you going to tell Dr. Robby?”

At this, Frank grins and shrugs.

“Frank! You’re going to let him walk into a trap?”

“Nobody else knows I know, so really, aren’t we both walking into a trap?” Frank says.

Mel laughs and then does a zipping motion over her lips.

“So you’re just going to watch Notting Hill?” she asks. He shrugs.

“I guess. Never seen it. Is that what you’d recommend?”

She pauses, thinking.

“It might be better to do pick something on theme, if you want to sell him on the whole Parent Trap thing. I’d go with Clueless, I think.”

“Alright, Clueless,” Frank says. “Thanks, Mel.” He hasn’t seen it, but he trusts Mel’s judgment, and he’s grateful to have her on his side like usual.

“Of course. I really hope this works,” she says.

After a moment, Frank says, “Hey, why wasn’t Whitaker on the thread?”

Mel pauses thoughtfully, considering.

“I think everyone knew he’d tell Robby. Of course, I told you anyways, but they must’ve all accounted for that and known that you’d still end up going.”

“Huh,” Frank says. And although he’s made the decision to go, he starts to feel the panic set in.

That next night, Frank goes over to Robby’s a little before 8:00 P.M. with a pizza and a box of wings. He’s a little early, but Robby’s going to start wondering why nobody else is there at some point, and Frank doesn’t want him to think that he’s been stood up. Knowing Robby, though, he’d probably prefer that.

Frank is already regretting this when he rings the doorbell. Robby immediately looks to Frank’s side, probably for Mel, and he gives Frank a suspicious squint when he realizes that he’s alone.

“Hey,” Robby says cautiously. “What is this?”

Frank was planning to play dumb, but he caves immediately.

“We’ve been Parent Trap-ed,” he says.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Of course you don’t.” Oops. Now’s probably not the time to be snarky, so Frank tries again with: “Everyone bailed tonight so that you and I would watch a movie alone together.”

“Huh,” Robby says. “That actually explains a lot.” He doesn’t move to slam the door in Frank’s face, so that’s a good sign.

“I know this is weird,” Frank says. And even though he knows that he’s rambling, he can’t help himself. “And I’m not trying to go back to the way that things were, or even to be friends again. But it would be better if we could work together a little easier, and pizza and a movie seems like the most lowkey possible way to do that.”

He is tempted to follow that up with an offer to leave, but Frank has been working with his therapist on sitting with discomfort.

“So they tricked us into spending time together,” Robby says.

“Yep.”

“But you already knew. How did you find out?”

Frank finds himself smiling then, despite the awkwardness of the situation.

“Mel told me.”

“Of course she did,” Robby says, but it’s kinder than anything he would ever direct at Frank. It’s affectionate.

“I think they knew she would tell me but that I’d come anyways,” Frank says. “They left Whitaker out of the group chat because they thought he’d tell you.”

“Huh,” Robby says, a private grin forming on his face before he realizes and switches back to a neutral expression.

“Oh, and I have pizza,” Frank says, holding up the box, “And wings.”

“What’s the movie tonight?”

“Clueless,” Frank says. He doesn’t think that means anything to Robby, but Robby takes a step backwards to welcome him into the house anyways.

“Alright, come on in,” Robby says.

They start the movie right away, but they talk throughout. This is pretty standard for their movie nights as a group, but it surprises Frank anyways that Robby is keeping it up when it’s just the two of them.

Early on into the movie, Robby notices that Frank isn’t eating the wings, and he asks what that’s about. It surprises Frank when he realizes just how little he and Robby know each other now. Frank hasn’t eaten meat in over a year (except for fish, which Frank stopped counting as meat at the same time), and it’s been a while since he had this conversation with someone.

“Oh, I’m a pescatarian now,” Frank says. “No meat, just fish.”

“Yeah, I know what a pescatarian is,” Robby says. “I just didn’t know you were one. When did that happen?”

“Uh, about a year ago.”

“And what, you felt so enlightened during your healing journey that you just had to make the change?” Robby is using a mocking voice, but it doesn’t come out snarky or biting like usual. It almost sounds like he’s talking to a friend.

“Ah, no,” Frank admits, “Benzo withdrawal fucked up my digestive system.”

“Really?” Robby asks, sounding surprised, probably more so at the fact that Frank is opening up to him than at the specific side effect itself.

“Oh, yeah. See, I’m a doctor, I thought I knew about side effects. But there’s a lot of long-term and permanent stuff that sticks with you, and the G.I. issues have yet to go away for me. It’s better when I don’t eat meat, and I don’t mind it so much.”

Frank leaves it at that, offering Robby an opening to end the conversation if he wants, but Robby doesn’t take it.

“What have your other side effects been?” Robby says. “The lasting ones, I mean.”

Frank exhales. People usually tiptoe around the subject. He only gets to properly talk about it with Cassie and Mel.

“Ah, brain fog, poor word retrieval sometimes, and frequent headaches. It’s all supposed to get better with time, but I think this is just my new normal now. It’s not so bad, though.”

Frank realizes that this is true as he says it. Onscreen, the main character—a spoiled teenage girl named Cher Horowitz—is embarrassing herself during a class debate. Next to him, Robby is listening thoughtfully.

“You seem good,” Robby says, which Frank knows is hard for him to offer up.

“Yeah,” Frank says. “Think so. And you… you seem better.”

This is dangerous territory. Frank shouldn’t even be alluding to Robby’s time away. Frank had tried to check in on him a few times when Robby first got back to the hospital, but it had always ended badly. He’s probably a dumbass for bringing it up now.

But Robby just gives a self-deprecating laugh.

“I guess so,” Robby says. And Frank is so relieved that that didn’t ruin everything, but he also knows better than to push his luck, so he turns the rest of the conversation to the movie.

Mel was right on the money with the theme of the night, because Cher likes to matchmake the people in her life, and she oversteps and wreaks havoc along the way. Frank hopes that the movie ends with Cher getting some successful results out of it, because otherwise, the messaging here to Robby will be that he was right all along to want to avoid tonight.

“I’m not imagining it, right?” Frank says at one point. “You’re catching the weird vibe with Cher and Paul Rudd too?”

Robby laughs.

“She’s not going to end up with her stepbrother, Frank.”

“Technically, he’s her ex-stepbrother.”

Of course, later in the movie, Frank starts to suspect that it’s going to prove him right on this one. Not that he wants to be, because the vibe there is weird, but it’s fun to have something light like this to rib Robby about.

“Hey, Robby, why do you think it bothers Cher so much to see Tai flirting with Josh?” Frank says with a smirk.

“Maybe she has a crush on Tai, asshole,” Robby says with a chuckle.

“That would be a better movie than this one,” Frank says, even though he’s actually really enjoying it. “But I’m calling it now: she’s ending up with the stepbrother.”

And Cher does end up with her stepbrother, which has Frank and Robby watching through their fingers during the kiss at the end.

“Hey, you willed this,” Robby says. “You can’t cover your eyes.”

“I didn’t will it, Robby,” Frank says, laughing. “This movie was made thirty years ago.”

And they never do go back to the heavy stuff again after that, but when Frank leaves that night (joking again back-and-forth with Robby about the weird stepsibling romance in Clueless), he feels much lighter than he has in a while.

5.

Robby still isn’t on-board with the rom-com club, but he isn’t dreading it when the fifth week comes around. And he’s almost disappointed when most of the hospital staff has to work on the designated night.

They end up with a small group at Dennis and Santos’ place. It’s just Dennis, Santos, Robby, Frank, and Joy. Santos is fine with Frank now, but Robby can tell that he’s still nervous to be there, especially without Mel. Mel is at work, too, for a rare shift that doesn’t include the rest of them. Robby’s surprised that they’re even meeting this week at all, but it was the only night this week that worked, and the rest of the group was insistent that Robby and Frank stay consistent.

Santos chose this week’s rom-com: her favorite movie ever, D.E.B.S., an early 2000s movie about four college students attending a secret academy for spies. The main characters make up a special all-women league called the D.E.B.S., and the movie is about the highest-achieving D.E.B., Amy, falling in love with a dangerous and elusive supervillain named Lucy Diamond. And of course, the rest of the spy academy is already against Lucy Diamond, but there’s also pressure on Amy about the fact that she’s a woman.

It's clear that Santos and Dennis rewatch this movie a lot. Like a lot. They’re quoting the whole thing throughout, and whenever Robby has logistical questions about the spy elements in the movie, Dennis frequently leans over to explain things to him.

Joy is only here because she loves D.E.B.S., so she got an honorary invite, but it’s nice to have an addition to the group anyways. It’s easier this week than in past weeks, and even with the rest of the group there, Robby and Frank joke around with each other quite a bit. Frank actually fits in pretty well with the big group when he’s not walking on eggshells worrying about upsetting Robby.

Robby’s sitting next to Dennis, so close that if he moved to the left a little, their shoulders would be touching.

At one point, Joy says to Santos, “You know, it’s kind of funny that you guys rewatch this together all the time. Whitaker’s totally your Scud.”

“Oh shit, he kind of is!” Santos says, delighted.

“Scud? You think I’m Scud?” Dennis bursts out, affronted. Robby laughs. Scud is the devoted sidekick to the mean lesbian, but that’s pretty much the only thing he and Dennis have in common.

“Would that make you Lucy Diamond?” Frank asks Santos lightly, but Robby can tell how careful it’s being, and how much it costs him to risk jumping into the conversation with her like this.

“Oh, I’m absolutely Lucy Diamond,” Santos says. Frank laughs in a way that is more like a sigh of relief.

“Dr. Garcia is hardly an Amy, though,” Joy says.

“Oh, that’s been over for a while,” Santos says, which Robby actually knew because Dennis had told him. Her voice isn’t as tight as it was talking about it in the past, and Robby suspects that she really is past it. She and Garcia get along fine at work these days, at least.

“Then who would be your Amy?” Joy asks. She is curious, not meaning to pry, even though Robby can tell it irritates Santos.

Dennis whispers something in Santos’ ear, and whatever he says makes her elbow him right into Robby. For a moment, Dennis is leaning into the side of him, shoulder pressing into Robby’s collar bone, and elbow digging into his ribcage. His hair tickles Robby’s jaw. And then he moves away. Robby is surprised to find himself already mourning the touch.

“Sorry,” Dennis murmurs to Robby. His stomach does a flip.

“All good,” Robby says. “Although now I’m dying to know what you said to get that reaction.”

“I’ll kill you, Huckleberry,” Santos mock-hisses, but Robby can see that she’s joking. Mostly. Dennis grins and presses his lips together, agreeing not to say anything more on the matter.

The movie itself is different from the other rom-coms that they’ve seen, and it keeps Robby entertained until the end. It surprisingly doesn’t annoy him that Santos and Dennis keep quoting the entire thing as it plays out, even when Joy jumps in and it’s all three of them doing it.

“Are you kidding me?” the three of them quote at one point alongside one of the important spy officials (Robby is still a little lost on the specific rules of how this academy is run, but he’s decided to accept that it’s abiding by rom-com logic). “We conduct a nationwide manhunt for you and you’re boning the suspect?”

Santos and Joy play at staying in character for the line, but Dennis breaks into a fit of laughter, giving Robby a sheepish look like he failed the task. And it’s… well, it’s adorable. Robby shakes the thought.

After the movie, Robby says, “Okay, I disliked that the least of all the ones we’ve seen so far.”

“See? It can’t be beat,” Santos says. “Rom-coms are just better when they’re gay.”

“And when they have diamond thieves,” Dennis adds.

“Well, can’t argue with that logic,” Robby says.

As they’re all heading out, Joy leaves first, and then Frank. He was still reserved tonight, especially without Mel there, like he was a little shy and unsteady in her absence. But Robby could also see the whole night that Frank was really trying, especially after their conversation last week, and that it means something that he came here and put in all this effort to be present and a part of this tonight.

“Night, Frank,” Robby says, patting his arm. Frank gives him a genuine smile.

“Goodnight, Robby. And thanks for having me, you guys.” That one is directed at Santos and Dennis. Santos tips an imaginary hat to him, and Dennis waves him goodbye.

And then it’s just Robby. He doesn’t realize until he’s walking out the door just how much he doesn’t want to leave.

“Well, I’m going to go unwind in my room,” Santos says, giving Dennis a pointed look. He gives her a look back that Robby interprets as Shut up, and though he’s a little lost, he wonders if whatever this is her version of payback for earlier.

And then Santos goes to her room, and it’s just the two of them. Dennis is standing there as still as a statue like he’s just waiting to see what Robby does next. Robby isn’t even sure of that himself. The thing to do right now would probably be to say goodnight, give him a wave, and then leave to go drive home. That is what a normal person would do.

“That was interesting,” Robby says instead.

“D.E.B.S?” Dennis asks.

And that’s sort of what Robby meant, but he was also referring to Dennis and Santos’ unspoken conversation, hoping that maybe he could get Dennis to confess what it had been about. Not the one earlier, which he’d deduced was about some woman that Santos either liked or was seeing, but the one just now. The pointed look Santos had given Dennis when she’d left him and Robby alone in the main area together, and the immediate redness that had then sprung up in Dennis’ cheeks.

But Robby just says, “Yeah. How many times does that make for you now?”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” Dennis says. “At least a couple times a month, but last October when she had the flu, we watched it every single night for a week. So, a lot.”

“How about that,” Robby says, making no move to leave.

Dennis gives a soft laugh, but he stays still, almost like he’s holding his breath and trying not to move. He’s looking intently at Robby’s face, hanging on his every word. Robby wonders what would happen if he leaned in just a little, or if he asked Dennis to tell him what before was about, or if he just stuck around a little longer.

But Robby just reaches out and squeezes Dennis’ shoulder. Dennis’ breath hitches.

“Goodnight, Dennis,” Robby says, dropping his arm and taking a step back.

“Goodnight, Robby,” Dennis says, his face falling so subtly that Robby wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t paying the utmost attention to him, if he didn’t know Dennis as well as he does.

And then Robby leaves and drives home.

+1

Frank doesn’t want to give PTMC’s rom-com club too much credit, but he really is noticing a difference in things with Robby now. Since their Parent Trap-ed night two weeks ago, Robby has been noticeably nicer to Frank than he’s been in a very long time.

They’re still not friends again, but things have thawed. Robby now goes out of his way to talk to Frank, ask him questions, and include him on cases at work as needed. Last movie night, Robby put in the effort to exchange comments with Frank throughout the movie. He’s been trying, and it means a lot to Frank.

Abbot has to work tonight after all, so Frank is unexpectedly hosting everyone at his small apartment. The movie he chose is Mel’s favorite rom-com, While You Were Sleeping. He hasn’t actually seen it before, but he’s looking forward to seeing this movie that she loves so much. They’ve had a lot of movie nights together, but they haven’t gotten around to watching this one yet.

She comes over early to help him host. Frank has been cooking more the last handful of months. He was told to take up hobbies after rehab, so he now reads mystery novels, knits (terribly), and cooks. Tonight is veggie lasagna with garlic bread and salad.

“This smells great, Frank,” Mel says when she walks in. He grins.

“Thanks,” he says. “Almost burned it, but I got lucky.”

“You never burn it,” she says. And she’s right, but it comes automatically to Frank, the self-deprecating stuff. Mel is always trying to get him to be gentler with himself, but he still doesn’t really know how.

“Is it too late to bail on this thing?” Frank asks, running a hand through his hair. He feels panic building in his chest. It’s one thing to attend these movie nights as a guest, to sit back and occasionally comment, knowing his place and just being grateful to be there. It’s another thing to actually host, to expect people to show up to his apartment, to be the one responsible for making it happen. And what if nobody else shows up?

“It’s going to go great,” she assures him. “You cooked this beautiful meal, you’ve been going to all the other movie nights, and you’re doing everyone a favor by hosting.”

But Frank is spiraling.

“Or nobody else is going to show up, and I’m going to know that they all hate me, and work is going to be incredibly awkward,” he says.

“Nobody hates you,” she says softly.

Mel doesn’t lie, so she must really believe it. Frank doesn’t even realize that he’s fidgeting with his hands until Mel reaches out to steady them. He freezes and she takes that as a sign to pull her hands back, but he carefully reaches back out and takes her hands. She folds her hands around his and lightly squeezes them.

And, well, this isn’t something they’ve done before. But Frank likes it. He wishes they could hold hands all the time.

“They don’t like me that much, either,” he says.

“More people like you than you realize, Frank,” she says. “Nobody is judging you as harshly as you are. Even Dr. Robby.”

“Thank you, Mel,” Frank says. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Well, I’m sure you’d be fine,” she says, “But I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t be,” he insists, but his chest floods with relief at her words. “And that’s good. That’s really good. I’m not going anywhere, either.”

“I know,” she says, and he’s glad that she does.

And then he’s starting to notice that funny feeling in his stomach at the feeling of her hands in his, at the acknowledgement of the words that they’re saying to each other. And it’s beginning to broach into the area of the thing that he tries not to think about, that he’s been really trying not to think about a lot these days.

But then the doorbell rings, and Mel drops his hands and goes to open it.

Mel turns out to be right, and the movie night goes better than Frank could’ve hoped, even. It’s a big crowd tonight: Robby, Whitaker, Santos, Javadi, Cassie, Donnie, Princess, Perlah, Samira, and Joy. Everyone seems to like the food, which they eat while watching While You Were Sleeping. Cassie and Mel are the only ones who have seen it before.

It’s about this woman named Lucy who works in the ticket booth at the train station, and she has this huge crush on a guy named Peter Callaghan, who she’s never spoken to before. Peter gets mugged and falls into a coma, someone at the hospital mistakes Lucy for his fiancée (in a scene that, as pretty much everyone in the room points out, is absolutely inaccurate for a real hospital), and next thing she knows, she’s being welcomed into his family.

Frank has nothing to complain about. He grew up with a good family and married into a good one, too. But he’s never had that, what the Callaghans have, and he gets why Lucy keeps up the lie so that she can have it. Even when it complicates things as she’s falling in love with Peter’s brother, Jack. Frank thinks that both Jack and Peter are kind of jerks, though.

Throughout the whole movie, Frank finds himself watching it through Mel’s eyes. He observes little parts of scenes to try to guess why she loves it so much, and he frequently finds himself watching her watch it. He sees how she smiles and laughs during the family scenes, how her face grows more thoughtful during the romance scenes, how she giggles and squeals along with everyone else during the leaning scene—in which Jack demonstrates what interested leaning looks like to Lucy.

At one point, Samira says, “Dreamiest rom-com love interest, go.” The question seems to just be meant for the women and Whitaker, which is for the best, because Frank has no desire or knowledge to answer that question, and Robby and Donnie don’t seem to, either.

“Joe Fox,” Cassie says.

“Lucy Diamond,” Santos says.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Javadi says. “I love The Proposal, so probably Margaret Tate.” At that, Santos coughs. Whitaker laughs and disguises it at a cough, but Santos still glares at him.

“Luce from Imagine Me & You,” Joy says.

“Ah, Lena Headey,” Santos says. “Excellent choice.”

“Kate Winslet in The Holiday,” Perlah says.

“Jude Law in The Holiday,” Princess says.

“Now, that’s a good-looking family,” Cassie says.

“I love Robbie Hart from The Wedding Singer,” Samira says. “There’s something so endearing about a goofy guy.”

Frank doesn’t know who half of these characters are. He’s mostly just paying attention to the fact that Mel hasn’t answered yet.  

Robby nudges Whitaker, and Frank realizes that he hasn’t answered yet, either.

“Well?” Robby jokes. “We’re all on the edges of our seats.”

Whitaker laughs a little.

“Ah, Harry Burns,” Whitaker says. “From When Harry Met Sally.”

And the room is suddenly filled with Ohs, except for Robby, who hasn’t seen the movie. Frank actually has seen it, and it’s kind of funny, now that he thinks of it, because Harry has always reminded him a little bit of—oh. A little bit of Robby, actually. And judging by the reddening of Whitaker’s cheeks, the smirk on Santos’ face, and the knowing expressions of pretty much everyone else in the room, Frank puts two and two together.

So Whitaker has a crush on Robby. Huh. Poor kid. Frank hopes Robby lets him down easy, which is unlikely, because Robby has never been good at having the hard conversations. He’ll probably just ignore the poor guy until Whitaker starts avoiding him back.

Frank doesn’t want to put Mel on the spot, but Samira asks her the question again, so Mel says, “Jack Callaghan,” with a nod towards the screen, and everyone nods then like it makes perfect sense to them.

Frank can’t help but run through it all in his mind. Jack Callaghan starts off as a jerk. He warms to Lucy quickly. And then he spends the whole movie pining after her. But he’s still kind of a jerk throughout, so Mel’s answer kind of surprises Frank, and he gets a weird chest pain that he can’t quite pinpoint.

The rest of the movie night goes well, and Frank finds himself feeling like it was a success. Everyone thanks him on their way out. Santos teases him about his decorations, Cassie ruffles his hair and says, “Nice work,” and Robby actually squeezes his shoulder and says, “This was really nice, Frank.”

And then it’s just Mel, who insists on staying to help him clean up, even though Frank keeps trying to assure her that he can do it by himself. The last thing he ever wants is for Mel to be doing any extra work, especially at his apartment, where she’s supposed to be the guest. But she insists, and so they clean up together, and it’s really nice, like it always is when it’s just the two of them.”

“So it turns out I was just catastrophizing,” Frank says. Mel gives him a soft smile.

“I completely get why you were,” she says. “But it was perfect. You did everything right.”

Frank relaxes, his previous anxiety shifting into a different sort of anxious thrum of anticipation or something like it.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, and I mean that,” he says. “Everything is just easier when you’re with me.”

And the way she smiles at him then, it kind of makes his stomach do a flip. They just sort of chat about everything for a while, going over the night and other little things related to the club, and what people said tonight, and little observations that Mel picked up on that Frank missed.

After, he walks Mel to her car, but he lingers for a moment, not ready to say goodnight.

“So, While You Were Sleeping,” Frank says. “I get why it’s your favorite.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s very you,” he says. “And I liked the big family.”

“I love the Callaghans,” she agrees.

“I was kind of surprised that Jack is your dream rom-com guy, though,” Frank says. He hopes he’s not hurting her feelings, because he knows how much she loves this movie. But Mel just thoughtfully tilts her head to the side.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, he’s rude,” Frank says.

“He’s protective.”

“He’s snippy.”

“He’s unhappy and the circumstances are tough, but he’s trying.”

“Okay, but don’t you think he’s selfish? Because for the whole movie, he thinks Lucy’s engaged to his brother.”

Mel laughs softly. He loves the sound of it.

“I actually think the pining is the best part,” she says.

“Pining?”

“You know, how he falls in love with her, but he can’t do anything about it, because he wants her to be happy, and he thinks she wouldn’t choose him anyways. But the whole time, she’s falling in love with him, too, except she thinks that if he knew the truth, he wouldn’t really love her.”

“Huh,” he says.

“Well, goodnight, Fr—”

“Okay, but what about the proposal? That’s a little soon, right? I mean, they haven’t even spoken since the wedding, and he just shows up to her place of work with his entire family and asks her to marry him, after they’ve known each other a week?”

“I think he just… knew,” she says.

“But how?” Frank asks. He doesn’t know why he can’t let it go, but this conversation is touching on something bigger, and he just can’t let it go. He doesn’t want to.

It’s just a movie, even though it is Mel’s favorite rom-com. Frank was never a big, passionate romantic, though. Not with anyone, not even Abby. And he definitely can’t see himself feeling that strongly about someone he just met. Well, he did with Mel, but that was different. Because that was—oh.

Oh.

“Well, you saw the movie,” Mel says. “I guess it doesn’t happen like that in real life, but rom-coms are just sort of exaggerated versions of what could happen in the real world. It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Frank whispers, but he feels like he’s gotten the wind knocked out of him. Because it’s actually so obvious, but he’s only just realizing it now: he’s in love with Mel. In a way that he’s never been with anyone else. And he has been for a very long time.

Mel immediately picks up on the fact that something’s changed in him, and she gives him a look of concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. Because what’s he going to do, tell her? That would be a terrible idea. Because she’s his closest friend, and they work together, and he can’t mess things up with her. He can’t lose her. He can’t.

And when she’s still looking at him like that, he tries to turn the conversation back to the movie.

“Maybe not just in rom-coms,” Frank says. “I think maybe it’s possible in real life.”

“What changed your mind?” she asks. Frank just shrugs.

“I guess I thought about it more. Let it rumble around in the ol’ brain.”

Shit, what is wrong with him?

“Frank, is something wrong?” Mel asks. And yeah, he is kind of acting insane right now, but also, nobody knows him like she does.

“No,” he says, and when she’s not convinced, he adds, “Well, not wrong, per say. There’s something up, which is why I don’t really know how to function at this very moment, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s just a big thing. But not a big, bad thing.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mel asks. She’s still looking it him with that worried look. He’s so grateful for her, and he loves her so much, and he wants to talk about it so badly. But he can’t.

“Yeah, I do, but I—I can’t.” He runs a hand over his face.

“Okay,” she says, uncertain and still concerned.

“Well, it’s just that I—I just realized something, something I should’ve figured out a while ago but I didn’t, you know? And I think it’s probably something I should process on my own, because it wouldn’t be fair to tell you right now, or probably ever, but I really want to tell you. Am I making any sense at all?”

Mel’s face changes then, shifting from concern to something quieter. He can’t tell what she’s thinking, which is weird, because he can always tell what she’s thinking.

“Mel?” he whispers.

“Sorry, Frank, I’m just in my head a little.”

“Like, bad in your head?” he asks.

And now he’s terrified, because surely she’s picked up on it; of course she has. And now she knows how he feels about her, and it’s freaked her out, and he’s going to lose her, and he just should’ve kept his big mouth shut.

“No, not at all,” she says so earnestly it makes his heart hurt, “I’m just trying not to get my hopes up.”

And Frank could swear his heart stops beating in that moment.

“What?”

“My mind gets ahead of me sometimes and fills in the blanks with the wrong things before I have all the information, and right now, it’s coming to a conclusion that I want to be true but that isn’t.”

“And what conclusion is that?” Frank asks softly, so softly that he can barely hear his own voice.

“Frank,” she says gently, “We don’t have to have this conversation right now.”

But Frank’s mind is racing to put everything together.

“Wait, if you’re trying not to get your hopes up based on the conclusion you came to from what I said, and what I said was that there’s something I just figured out that I want to tell you but I don’t think it would be fair to, does that mean…?”

Frank is still processing, and then suddenly, his mind jumps all the way to the end.

“Frank, it’s—”

“Wait, does that mean you’re in love with me?” he blurts out. And then, panicking, he says, “Wait, sorry, I didn’t mean to phrase it like—”

“Yes. Yep. Mm-mm,” she says. Frank freezes.

“What?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I think everyone else does. I’ve tried to be subtle about it, but I’m not really good at holding in how I feel—which, obviously, you know. But after tonight, I think everyone does know. I think I was a little too obvious—I mean, clearly, I was.”

“Everyone knows?” Frank’s mind has gone blank, and he feels like all he can do is just repeat what Mel is saying.

“I think so,” she says. And somehow, realizing this is the thing to snap him out of blank mode and back into panic mode.

“Wait,” Frank says. “So this whole time, for who knows how long—”

“A very long time,” Mel supplies.

“For a very long time, everyone around us has just known that I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me, and nobody thought to say anything to me? They’re all more than happy to meddle every other time, but when it actually comes to—”

“Wait, Frank?” Mel gently interrupts. She’s smiling. And just like that, the panic in his chest drains away, and he finds himself smiling, too.

“Yeah, Mel?”

“Can you go back a second? Because it sounds like you said…” and she trails off like she can’t trust her own ears.

“That everyone meddles?”

“No, before that.”

“That you’re—in love with me?” he says softly. Repeating it like that and seeing her face as confirmation makes his heart skip a beat. Frank can’t believe that this is real life.

“Before that,” she says softly. And then it clicks, and Frank feels his grin widening.

“That I’m in love with you?” he says. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” she says, her face lighting up his words. His heart leaps in his chest.

“I didn’t, either, until like two minutes ago,” Frank says. “But it seems like everyone we know figured it out before I did.”

She gently reaches out and touches her hand to his cheek, softly brushing the side of it with her thumb. He leans into the touch.

“I know that you’re probably feeling really overwhelmed right now,” she says softly, “And I want you to know that I’m not in any rush. The most important thing is your sobriety, and I’m not going anywhere, Frank, so we can just figure things out at whatever pace you need.”

And, oh, he loves her so much, and she knows him so well. And Mel is right; it does track with Frank’s usual patterns to be feeling overwhelmed right now. He’s only a little over a year into his sobriety, and he’s still figuring everything out again, going back to the basics and rebuilding almost from scratch after most of his life went up in flames.

But Frank doesn’t feel overwhelmed at all right now. Aside from his kids and his job, Mel is the one constant in his life, the one thing he can be sure about. And all he feels right now is complete and utter calm.

He pulls her into a hug, and she collapses into his arms. This is easy for them; they hug all the time. And it’s comfortable, and it steadies him.

When Frank finally pulls back, he says, “You’re wonderful. And thank you. But I don’t think I can possibly wait another second without losing my mind.”

She giggles then, carding a hand through his hair.

“Well, in that case, I think you’d better kiss me,” she murmurs.

Frank doesn’t have to be told twice. He cups Mel’s face in his hands, leans in, and kisses her deeply.

After a little while, Mel has to go home, so he walks her the remaining few steps to her car.

“Call me when you get home,” Frank says.

“You might be asleep.”

“I won’t.” And he can’t stop the giddy grin that takes over his whole face. This shouldn’t be real. He shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy.

“Okay, I will. I love you, Frank,” she says. His stomach does a flip.

“I love you, Mel.”

And even after Mel drives away, that stupid grin doesn’t leave Frank’s face. Not when she calls him later, and not for the rest of their hours-long phone call, and not even when he finally goes to sleep.

+2

Today marks the last agreed-upon meeting of the rom-com club for Robby and Frank, and Robby is surprised at the disappointment he feels at the thought of it being over. Sure, the club will keep going, and it wouldn’t be unreasonable for the two of them to keep attending. In fact, he’s pretty sure that Frank plans to keep on attending, because he seems to be enjoying it, and he went all out to host last week. But Robby doesn’t have a good enough reason to keep going.

Tonight, they’re all going back to Dennis and Santos’ apartment, but this time, Dennis is hosting. He wanted to choose The Princess Bride, but the general consensus was that it’s not enough of a rom-com, so they’re watching Ella, Enchanted instead. Robby hasn’t seen that one, but he has always enjoyed The Princess Bride, and apparently, they’re supposed to be similar. At least, that’s what Jack said.

Robby and Frank meet very early that morning for coffee, before work. Frank had asked him to meet up, and Robby was surprised to realize that he wasn’t reflexively looking for a reason to say no.

Frank had said that he’d wanted to talk about something, so Robby figures that it’s about his new relationship with Mel. They went official with their relationship earlier this week, and even went to HR and filled out the paperwork and everything.

Robby had picked up on it just before they’d told everyone else, though. Some dumbass had gone to the hospital for a flare gun injury and brought the flare gun with him. When it had gone off, Frank had jumped to cover Mel, and afterwards, they’d discreetly touched hands and exchanged a look. And that was when Robby knew.

In hindsight, it was kind of obvious that Frank felt the same way about Mel that she did about him, but Robby still hadn’t seen it coming. It could be that he had stopped paying close attention to Frank a while ago, but truthfully, when it comes to other people, Robby’s been missing a lot of things for a while that he previously would’ve picked up on.

He and Frank still haven’t talked about it, but Robby figures that it wouldn’t make sense to talk about it anyways. They’re much better off than they were at the start of this thing, working together on cases more smoothly and exchanging conversation with each other in passing moments, and sometimes it even feels easy. They’re still not friends again, not really. But Robby still runs the ER, and they’re friendly now, so maybe Frank wants to clear the air.

When they sit down for coffee, Robby skips the pleasantries, because he just can’t help himself and doesn’t want to do the whole awkward song and dance with Frank.

“If this is about you and Mel, I already know,” Robby says. Frank, who has been nervously partial smiling this entire time, finally relaxes, and a genuine grin takes over his face. Huh, he really is smitten with her.

“Well, I knew that,” Frank says with a laugh. “Didn’t you have to sign off on our forms?”

Did he? Well, if he did have to, Robby didn’t do it. Oops. If it’s a big enough issue, he’s sure the paperwork will make its way to him. It always has a way of doing that.

“Not that I know of,” Robby says. And he finds himself smiling, too. It’s like for a moment, his face forgets that it’s not supposed to smile at Frank, that it’s not supposed to feel like he’s with a friend.

Frank laughs and clears his throat.

“So, tonight will be fun,” Frank says. There go those pleasantries that Robby was hoping to avoid.

“Frank, don’t beat around the bush.”

“Right. Ah, I’m going to stick with the rom-com club after tonight. And Mel is, too. We’ve both been really enjoying it. And I have been too, separately of her.”

“And what, you’re looking for my permission?” Robby is aware that he kind of sounds like an asshole, but he doesn’t know how to turn it off.

“No,” Frank says, not letting it get to him. “I want you to stick with it, too.”

This surprises Robby, and it kind of knocks him off his game.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s a good way to bond with our friends and coworkers, and the movies are actually pretty fun even when they’re bad, and…” Frank trails off and pauses, taking a breath. Finally, he adds, “And it’s been good for us. You and me. Having to be around each other outside of work.”

Frank is waiting for him to say something.

“It’s easier to work with you now,” Robby offers.

“I’m not just talking about work, Robby. I’ve really liked spending time with you again. I miss you. I miss being your friend,” Frank says.

Robby wasn’t expecting that, and it hits him like a punch to the mouth. He’s having trouble finding his words, so he just responds with, “Hm.”

“I know I screwed up and broke your trust, not just professionally by stealing from our patients and betraying them and the hospital, but personally, the way I spoke to you after you found out. What I said about you, and about what I now know was a panic attack. I’m really sorry, Robby. I get it if you don’t ever want to be friends again, but if you do, it’ll be different this time. I’ll never use shit like that against you again, no matter how angry I am at you.”

The words are sincere; Robby can tell that Frank means them. And although he doesn’t want to have this conversation, there is a part of him that needed to hear them, and he feels a pricking at his eyes. Robby blinks rapidly until it goes away. He realizes in that moment that he forgives Frank, and that he believes him. The truth is, Robby is sorry, too. He took Frank’s addiction personally, didn’t handle it the way he should’ve as a friend or a boss, and punished him for it for a long time afterwards.

Robby should probably tell Frank he forgives him, and then apologize, and then open up to him, and encourage Frank to open up back to him, and do all the normal, healthy things that regular, well-adjusted friends do. But Robby can’t bring himself to do all that, not yet. He does want to fix this thing with Frank, though, and he’s surprised to realize how easily his next words come to him. He hopes that it will be enough, and that Frank can meet him in the middle.

“You planning on getting mad at me again?” Robby says, the corners of his mouth turning up. Frank laughs in a surprised, relieved kind of way, and Robby feels lighter.

“I guess that depends,” Frank says with a grin. “You planning on changing your entire personality?”

Robby laughs, a real one that kind of just gets knocked out of his chest.

“I’m afraid not,” Robby says.

“Then yeah, I’ll probably get mad at you sometimes. Good news is I know you can dish it back to me,” Frank says.

“You can count on that,” Robby says. And then Frank’s face shifts into something vulnerable again, and Robby wants to make it go away as quickly as possible.

“So, do you think we can be friends again?” Frank asks. And Robby feels a resounding yes then, but he can’t get the words out in the right way.

“What do friends even do?” Robby says. Frank pauses, confused.

“I don’t know. Get food together, talk about things, sometimes help each other move…?”

“Well, fine. We can get food together, and we can talk about things, but I’m not helping you move anytime soon.”

At that, Frank laughs.

“Well, that’s fine, because I like my apartment.”

And they sit like that for a while. They even order egg sandwiches. And they don’t talk about everything, or even go that deep, but there will be time for all of that, eventually. As for today, they talk about stuff going on with the hospital, the SHC meeting later that night, and just a few little pieces of information from each of them that start to piece together little things from their lives that the other missed during the last 16 months.

At one point towards the end, as they’re wrapping up, Robby tells Frank, “You and Mel, that’s a good fit. I’m happy for you.”

Frank lights up then.

“That means a lot, Robby, thank you,” Frank says.

“You know, I could see it from her end for a while,” Robby says.

“It took me a while,” Frank says. “She knew before I did. And ironically, the rom-coms helped me get there.”

“Huh,” Robby says. He doesn’t hate rom-coms like he used to, but he can’t relate to finding them useful like that.

“How about you? Any sudden feelings realizations from the rom-coms?” Frank says with a laugh.

And that would be an affirmative no. The last relationship he had wasn’t even a real relationship, and that ended six months ago. He hasn’t been with anyone since then, and has instead just been trying to focus on his own sanity and peace of mind.

“Not that I know of,” Robby jokes.

“Yeah, you’re just the subject of them,” Frank quips back. And then he freezes for a moment like he accidentally said something he shouldn’t have.

“What does that mean?” Robby asks.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Frank says with a wave of his hand. “Just a little theory that I had, and actually that a lot of other people have, too, but I really don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, just that Whitaker has this huge crush on you,” Frank says. Robby’s heart stops and he freezes, but obviously, Frank doesn’t notice, and he keeps going. “But it’s not a big deal, honestly. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon, and maybe the Swoony Hearts Club can help him find a boyfriend like it helped me and Mel.”

And that snaps Robby out of it. The thought of Dennis with some random guy makes Robby want scream and start throwing plates. And, as for the crush… well, Robby supposes that part of him had suspected that for a while, but he hasn’t let his mind go all the way there. And now that it has, well, his brain is just kind of short-circuiting a little bit.

“What makes you think that?” Robby asks, trying to keep his voice casual. Frank just shrugs.

“Just little things,” Frank says. “He hangs on your every word, he stops functioning every time you touch him, and his dream guy, Harry from When Harry Met Sally? Lovable asshole.” At this, he gestures towards Robby.

“So you think I’m lovable?” Robby jokes, changing the subject.

All the while, his mind is rapidly replaying little moments that match up with everything Frank is saying, times that he’s been speaking to a big group and Dennis was the only one listening, times that he’s complimented Dennis and his eyes have done that wide and sincere thing, every time he pats Dennis on the back or fist-bumps him and the little way Dennis seems to glitch afterward each time.

Huh.

“Less so when you open your mouth,” Frank jokes.

And then they’re leaving the coffee shop and heading out to work soon enough, and Robby is feeling good about where things are with Frank now, but he also can’t stop thinking about what Frank said. And he barely sees Dennis at work that day, but during each one of their brief interactions, he feels like he’s been lit up inside. For the first time, Robby actually finds himself thrumming with anticipation for the rom-com club meeting.

That night, Robby is one of the first to show up, and Santos answers the door for him because Dennis is in the kitchen heating up frozen appetizers for everyone. Robby’s eyes skitter around the room looking for him, and he doesn’t relax until he sees Dennis standing there wearing a ridiculous floral apron and matching oven mitts. To put frozen appetizers in the oven. It’s adorable.

“What have we got here?” Robby says as he walks over to the kitchen. Dennis looks up from the hot tray he’s pulling out of the oven, and he almost drops it when he sees Robby.

“Uh, hey, Robby,” Dennis says.

And that’s when Robby is pretty sure that Frank was right about Dennis’ crush. And that he wanted him to be right. Because if Robby is being honest, he’s always felt this pull towards Dennis, since the day they met. It’s like he’s the light at the center of every room, and all Robby wants is to bask in it. And he hasn’t really let his mind go there, because it’s complicated; really, everything these days is just hard and complicated for Robby.

But this one thing, well, Robby decides then that maybe it’s okay to let himself want it.

“Careful,” Robby murmurs, reaching to steady Dennis’ hands through the oven mitts. Dennis’ breath hitches.

“Thanks.”

And now that Frank has pointed it out to him, Robby is starting to notice the effect that he has on Dennis. And it’s not just when he almost drops the tray, either.

Robby tests it out a little throughout the night, and each time, he likes the results. When Robby leans in and says, “Cute apron,” Dennis goes bright red and almost cuts off his finger (at that point, he’s cutting a block of white cheddar for the cheese plate). When there’s another wave of people arriving and Santos is busy, and Dennis goes to answer the door, and Robby puts his hand on his chest and says, ‘I’ve got it,” Dennis’ eyes drop down to Robby’s hand and he just nods.

And when Robby sits next to him on the big couch for the movie, and he puts his hand over Dennis’ to help him use the remote and find the right channels? Well, Dennis quite literally forgets what movie they’re even looking for.

It’s a big group again tonight: Jack, Samira, Princess, Perlah, Javadi, Joy, Donnie, and Cassie all attend. And Frank and Mel, who definitely aren’t a PDA couple, but who exhibit clear signs if you’re looking closely. Which Robby isn’t really. But he notices their shoulders pressed together, their subtle handholding after the movie starts.

But his main focus is on Dennis. And on the movie, sort of, which he’s surprised to find himself actually enjoying. There’s a quest element to the whole thing that he likes, and surprisingly high stakes, with an evil royal played by Cary Elwes who wants to kill his nephew so he can become King.

Ella, Enchanted may just be the best movie Robby’s ever seen in his life. That, or he’s really, really enjoying sitting so close to Dennis and flustering him.

At one point, Dennis suddenly stands up and rushes out, “I have to step out for a minute, don’t pause it, I’ll be right back.” And then he bursts out of the apartment.

This doesn’t faze anyone, and the only particular reactions are from Santos who smirks, and Frank who gives Robby a look like, Come on, you know what you’re doing. And he does, but he certainly didn’t want Dennis to leave. Just the opposite, actually.

So Robby stands up and goes, “I’m gonna… check on him.” Nobody questions him or stops him, and the movie keeps playing. Ella and the prince are singing Queen at a pub as Robby walks out of the apartment.

Robby isn’t sure where to even look, so he goes to the main floor and walks outside, where he finds Dennis sitting on a bench outside the building and texting someone with his back to the building’s entrance. As Robby gets closer, he sees that Dennis is texting Santos, but he isn’t close enough to read what he’s saying.

“Care for some company?” Robby asks, coming up from the side of the bench. Dennis’ head snaps up, and he immediately puts his phone away.

“Ah, Robby, hi! Yeah, yeah sure,” Dennis says, his eyes wide and panicked. Robby sits down next to him.

“What’re you doing out here?” Robby asks softly.

“Just, ah, getting a little air,” Dennis says. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The sky is dark and lit up with stars. It’s cold out—it is Pittsburgh in February, after all—but it’s a nice cold, even though neither of them is wearing a proper jacket. It’s the perfect night, and Robby’s sitting out here with Dennis, and he has no desire to go back inside any time soon.

“Why’d you step out?” Robby asks softly. Dennis gives him a self-deprecating grin.

“Would you believe me if I said for a smoke break?” he says sheepishly. Robby throws his head back and laughs.

“Well, considering the fact that you don’t smoke, and you don’t seem to have any cigarettes or a lighter on you, not really,” Robby says.

“That’s what I figured,” Dennis says. Robby chuckles and nudges him with his shoulder.

“Is it because of me?”

“Uh, what do you mean?” Dennis asks, his eyes wide and panicked again. It’s so cute, and Robby can’t believe that this is something he gets to have.

“Did you come out here to get away from me?” Robby teases. He can’t hide the giddiness in his voice, but Dennis must not pick up on it, because his face is still serious.

“No, I never want to get away from you; that’s the problem,” Dennis blurts out. Robby’s chest lights up inside, and he can’t stop the stupid grin that’s taking over his face.

“Is that right?” Robby says, still dragging it out. He should probably put Dennis out of his misery, but he’s having a little too much fun.

“Oh, shit,” Dennis says in a panic, burying his face in his hands. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”

Is it terrible that Robby is enjoying this so much? Maybe. He nudges Dennis again.

“So, what? You got a crush on me or something?”

At that, Dennis’ head snaps up out of his hands.

“You know?”

And Robby did kind of know already, but the confirmation fills his chest with helium, and he’s grinning even harder than he thought was possible.

“You didn’t want me to know?”

“No, of course not!” Dennis bursts out, horrified. Robby laughs.

“What? Why not?”

“Because it would ruin everything! At best, it would be a running joke around the hospital for who knows how long, and at worst, it would be weird, and awkward, and you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore.”

And Robby’s laughter dries up then.

“Your best-case scenario of me finding out how you feel about me is me making fun of you for it in our place of work?”

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds dumb, but you know what I mean, Robby.”

“No, I don’t,” Robby says. “You really can’t think of any better outcome?”

“Not out of realistic ones, no,” Dennis says.

“It wouldn’t be realistic for me to possibly feel the same way?” Robby asks softly. Dennis looks like a kicked puppy.

“Robby,” Dennis says softly.

And sure, this started out as a fun and entertaining thing since he found out, but now Robby’s feeling very serious. And he finds himself, for the first time in a long time, actually wanting to put words to everything he’s feeling.

“It wouldn’t be realistic if I told you that I think about you all the time like a constant thrum of white noise in the back of my mind—white noise that’s very hard to tune out, by the way? It wouldn’t be realistic if I told you that I want to be near you all the time—no, more than want, that I ache to be near you all the time? That whenever we’re at work and you’re across the room and I can’t go over to you, that it’s actually physically painful for me, Dennis? That my chest actually fucking hurts? That wouldn’t be realistic?”

When Robby looks at Dennis then, he still sees that doubt in his eyes, and it makes him fucking angry. Not at Dennis. More at himself, really, for not having done enough to convince Dennis that this could ever be a thing that he wants.

“Robby,” Dennis repeats quietly, so quietly that Robby can barely hear him.

“Why wouldn’t it be realistic? Is it because you think I’m straight? Because I’m not.”

That’s something Robby figured out a few months back, during his months of intensive therapy and introspection. That he’s bisexual. That it was something that was always there, but that he didn’t ever realize until he was forced to slow down and think about everything. He hadn’t told anyone until now, but he’s not hiding it, either. It just hasn’t come up yet.

Dennis splutters then, unable to form any words, so Robby continues.

“Is that it, Dennis?” he asks softly.

Finally, Dennis says, “Um, I didn’t know that. Thank you for telling me. I, um, support you, and—”

And Robby can’t help but laugh then. Fuck, he’s so cute.

“Dennis, I’m not trying to come out to you; I’m trying to tell you that I’m crazy about you!” Robby says.

Dennis freezes, but he still doesn’t look like he believes it, and he’s struggling to form words again, too.

“What will it take for you to believe that? What is it?” Robby says.

Finally, Dennis says, “I guess I do. Believe it. But there’s nothing we can do about it, anyways.”

Robby’s going to start screaming in approximately 15 seconds.

“And why’s that?”

“Because you don’t do relationships, and the way I feel about you is very not casual, Robby. It’s—it’s all-consuming, and loud, and relentless.”

And, despite his frustration, Robby’s stomach does a flip at his words.

“Well, I should hope not,” Robby says. “And I can do relationships. I’ve done relationships. Just not successful ones.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Well, a successful one only has to stick one time, presumably.”

“And what, this would be the one time?” Dennis says, disbelieving.

“Yes!” Robby says.

This startles Dennis, and it seems like it actually might be getting through to him this time.

“I mean, how would this even work? What would I even say to people? ‘This is Robby, and we’re dating?’”

Robby can’t help but laugh.

“Yes! Or ‘This is my boyfriend, Michael.’ I don’t care how you introduce me, Dennis, just that you do.”

“Boyfriend?” Dennis finally whispers.

“Yes,” Robby says, frustrated again. “Boyfriend, Dennis. I’d like to be your boyfriend, okay?”

“Ah, yeah, okay,” Dennis says in a daze. And then this seems to click for him, and he smiles a little. “Wait, really?”

“Yes,” Robby says, exasperated, but now he’s smiling, too.

Before either of them can say anything else, Dennis’ phone starts ringing. It’s not his usual ringtone; it sounds like the Cheetah Girls theme song, which Robby only knows because Jake loved those movies when he was little.

“Dennis, I swear, if you pick that up right now—”

“It’s Trinity,” Dennis says, picking up the phone. And then, after clicking to answer the call, he says, “Hey, I’m in the middle of something, can this—?” And then he pauses, listening, before interjecting, “I can’t answer that right now.” And then, after Santos says something else, Dennis says, “Right now, really?” and starts to get up like he’s going to go inside.

Robby puts his hand on Dennis’ shoulder, gently guiding him back into a sitting position, and then he takes the phone from him.

“Something urgent, Dr. Santos, or can it wait?”

“Oh,” she says, sounding simultaneously utterly delighted and confused. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Okay, we’ll see you later, then. I’m going to hang up now,” Robby says. And he does. And then he turns to Dennis, who’s sitting there watching him and giggling with an awestruck look on his face.

“Well?” Robby says. “Have I convinced you yet?” It comes out much softer than he intends.

And then Dennis scoots forward, grabs Robby by his shirt collar, and kisses him.

And it lights Robby up inside. Yes, this. This. This is exactly the thing that he needs, that he wants, that he’s been denying himself of for so long.

Robby deepens the kiss, but then Dennis pulls back to say, “Yeah.” Robby laughs and tells him, “Shh,” and then he pulls him back into a kiss, which is how they stay for a long time.

When they finally go back upstairs, Ella is chained to a tree for some reason. It seems like the movie is almost over. Nobody complains about how long they were gone or comments on it, and Robby supposes then that he’s not as subtle as he thought. Not that he cares. He’d be content to go around telling everyone, just constantly, as soon as possible.

Robby and Dennis go back to their spot on the couch like before, but this time, they’re sitting pressed together, and Robby has an arm snaked around Dennis’ waist.

He feels his phone buzz, and when he looks up, Frank is smirking at him. Robby checks his phone.

Frank: Hey, random question: why does Whitaker have a hickey on his clavicle?

Robby: more pressing follow-up question: why are you looking at my boyfriend’s clavicles, you sick freak?

Frank: BOYFRIEND????

When Robby looks up, Frank has his fist over his mouth to keep from laughing. His shoulders shake with laughter anyways, and he leans into Mel, who’s beaming and leaning back into him, even though she doesn’t know what he’s laughing about.

Frank pauses his laughter to give Robby a genuine grin, and then to mouth, Happy for you, to which Robby tries to suppress a grin of his own as he rolls his eyes at Frank.

And then Robby turns his attention back to Dennis, who’s watching him with a soft smile on his face.

“So where are we at in the movie?” Robby whispers, leaning into Dennis’ side.

“Oh? Since when are you so invested in rom-coms?” Dennis teases quietly.

“You know, I’ve decided that they’re not so bad,” Robby whispers back. And he realizes he means it. He supposes he has rom-coms to thank for a lot, after all.