Work Text:
My baby, my baby
You're my baby, say it to me
Michael curled further in on himself, aware of the breach of his private bubble, but mentally unable to acknowledge whoever had just walked in. He didn’t break and continued his mumbled prayer, “…adonai echad. Baruch shem malchuto…”. Someone sat beside him. He hated that. Why are you here? Why do you care? Go away. You can’t care; I won’t let you. He felt a gentle hand press on his shoulder. Warmth. Why?
He looked over, not recognizing the man sitting beside him at all. He must be new. Shit. They had just met, and here he was, drowning. How humiliating. How cute, you think you can help me? No one can help me. The room fades to black in his memory, all that remains is the sharp twang of shame he feels from pushing the helpful stranger away. Damn it, Michael. You asshole.
Baby, my baby
Tell your baby that I'm your baby
The first time Dennis walked into the ER he was terrified. Nothing much was able to go in or out of his brain that day. Everything loud, bright, bloody. The first day he walked into the ER he would have never believed that it would grow to be the place he thrived. The place his mind finally quieted, finally needed enough by those around him to feel at peace. What he would have believed, without a second of doubt, is if you told him that Doctor Robinavitch would become very important to him. He knew that the second he met the man. Noticing himself constantly glued to his side, unaware whether it was his movement or his superior’s. He owed it to the world to blame himself, however. Sticking by the older man that everyone needed made him, by association, very helpful. Dennis loved to be helpful.
I bet on losing dogs
I know they're losing, and I'll pay for my place by the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I'll be there on their side
I'm losing by their side
Months later, Michael found himself on the rooftop again. This time, being comfortably swayed by familiar gentle hands. This was so unbelievable that it felt as though it was happening against his will, but he was too numb to even think to resist. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I can’t make it go away, I wish I could,” No, stop it! Urgency overtook Michael briefly, shifting to sit up and hold a pale cheek in his rough hand. He needed to let Dennis know he was the only thing that has ever come close. He needs to express - this couldn’t possibly be up to you to change. I am too far gone. Problems, no, - memories from before you were even born haunt me. He shook his head and went to speak, trying and failing to regain control of the moment, to seem normal far too late. Was this it? The dam breaking? “Oh baby, my baby…” Dennis’ voice so, so quiet, speaking like he knew what was on Michael’s mind. Their eye contact was beyond intense, tired baby blues meet exhausted deep brown. Michael calmly relented, realizing maybe the most normal thing to do right now was stay quiet. Maybe that’s what Dennis wants me to do? He rested his head back on the comfortable lap offered to him.
Dennis dragged the back of his fingers along Michael’s bearded chin, up his jaw, where he slipped his hand even gentler across the top of his ear. Not stopping when he reached gray hairs lighting up the brown. He smoothed the hair there; it was so soft, everything about his Doctor was. Dennis, unable to comfort himself, found himself a fantastic comfort to others. He smiled sadly down at him: they had been like this before, they’d be like this again, it was okay, it was better. Despite his concerning state, Michael’s face and eyes stayed gentle. Though he didn’t have much longer before he would need to get up, when the numbness of panic stopped and the thoughts started up again.
Dennis saw this whole situation as it was – hopeless – and he stayed.
Will you let me, baby, lose on losing dogs?
I know they're losing, and I'll pay for my place by the ring
“He cares about everyone BUT himself. I care about him! It’s what I do: it’s never going to be a problem, and I will never stop. I know it’s not ideal, Trin. It’s far from it, I guess…” Dennis’ expression didn’t change. He had long since made peace with that fact. Peace… Wasn’t quite the right word for it. Obsession might be more accurate. He needed to help Doctor Robinavitch in any way possible. On the daily, that looked like working as hard as he possibly could, and nightly, it looked like disappearing to the rest of the world.
He snuck downstairs after hearing Trinity boot up the PlayStation. He felt like he was sneaking out, but Trinity knew, he knew that Trinity knew. He knew that Trinity knew exactly where he was going, who he was seeing, and why. She was too fucking smart for the benefit of anyone. Smart, yes, she is an amazing doctor, but even more so - perceptive. They had worked together for exactly one day by the time Trinity Santos had figured out every single one of Dennis’ secrets. He was homeless, he was gay, he was obsessed with Doctor Michael Robinavitch. And immediately, like the fucking rude angel she is, she had saved him from all those troubles. Swept them away with the crumbs on her apartment floor. Trinity gave him someone to spill his fluttery-overflowing-heartache with, of course - somewhere to live, and above all, the irreplaceable treasure of queer closeness. Trinity was one of the people that Dennis felt the best around. She bossed him around in the perfect way, his hands were always full and hers were always empty - just right.
Dennis filled his days with as much activity as he possibly could, every day. So, to say he didn’t yearn for this moment of comfort just as much as Michael did would be a lie anyway. He knew he would have to spend his life convincing him that, but Dennis would try. I fucking need you, too, do you not see what you do to me?
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I wanna feel it
Michael felt the hot burn of tears in the corners of his eyes. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I so fucked up? He only ever cried when Dennis was holding him. How fucked is that? When and why did I decide it was a good idea to pick up this stray only to use him as my therapist. I’m horrid. Are you kidding me, Michael? The tears immediately dried up. He sniffled once and - only moving his eyes, careful not to move his body - looked up at Dennis. His heart ripped in half instantly. Dennis was sleeping. He looked so peaceful, having fallen asleep with Michael in his arms like a child. I am the worst thing in his life. Michael thought for an instant - but dropped the thought quickly like a hot iron. If he let his brain keep going down that path he would start crying again - likely worse. He would never forgive himself if he woke Dennis up with his foolish, incessant blubbering. He got up, silently slipping out and covering Dennis with a warm blanket. He’ll get cold without me. Michael brought in another blanket, sure he saw sleeping Dennis relax a bit more. He stayed up most of the night, grateful no one was around to count his cigarettes.
I bet on losing dogs
I always want you when I'm finally fine
There was no sun. Today, just as doomed as the rest of them. Rain, more car crashes, more slips and falls… The bed shifted. That wasn’t Michael. “Good morning, baby,” Ow. Is that my heart? Are you still beating down there, buddy? I know. I can’t believe this either. Don’t kill me now, I just got -this-. Michael stopped all thoughts from forming by rolling over, covering his boyfriends’ body with his own. That title was getting old. And Michael was going crazy. He owed the man more. “Marry me?” Michael said, lovesick, eyes huge and shiny, “Of course, baby”. Dennis wasn’t sure when he’d gotten so ‘cool’. That sentence would have killed him a year ago. He had drenched himself in Michael’s presence for a year, taking everything he was given without hesitation, with wanting arms. He knew what he did to the man. He could at least notice when he was being needed, more so just painfully aware of when he wasn’t.
Michael moved and Dennis sat up, the muscle flex in his arms and stomach sparked heat in Michael. He anticipated it, the weight of Dennis, and he needed it. He climbed over, straddling his Doctor’s hips in a practiced motion, both men only wearing what they usually slept in, which wasn’t much. Dennis in patterned briefs, cute blue ones with doctor motifs on them, a mask, a needle. Michael thought they were sweet. Which alone was a feat for him, neither object had held a positive connotation for the doctor in a while, obviously. The older in plaid pajama pants, neither with anything on top. Dennis ran his hands over Michael’s grey and brown-haired chest, loving the feeling, keeping his hands there while he ground his hips back. Great, now I’m thinking about COVID again. What the fuck, Michael? LOOK UP! The saddest, sweetest set of eyes he’s ever seen looked back down at him. As contemplative as he looked, Michael could feel his hardness pressing into his kidney, grounding him. Thank God for sex. “I love you,” was a much more appropriate thing to say, so he said it. Staring a hole into Dennis’ soul. Then he said it again. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” rocking his hips up to punctuate.
Dennis laughed, almost losing his balance. The sound must have given birth to a thousand butterflies. All of which now resided in Michael’s belly. He pulled him down, closing the distance in between their faces, bracketing the blond head of hair, using all of both of his hands, feeling him with every possible inch. I don’t deserve him. But I fucking have him anyway… And I think that I need him.
With cheeks squished in between big hands, their eye contact as heightened as ever, Dennis was able to get out, “baby - I know,” before being directed forward the extra inch it took to smash their lips together. Hips twitching, unable to stay still a second longer. Dennis ground down again, harder, not nearly as hard as he knew his old man would want him, dragging his raging-morning-wood down across his abdomen. Pulling back from the kiss to stare his Doctor in the eyes. Both holding the others’ face with too much intensity. On the third – deep - grind, Michael’s breath stopped, holding back a noise that Dennis wished he could hear.
How you'd be over me
Looking in my eyes when I cum
Someone to watch me die
Someone to watch me die
I bet on losing dogs