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Something wrong was happening to Robby.
There were some symptoms he was experiencing since he came back from his sabbatical. Dry mouth, cold sweats, tremors and a racing heart, he could swear he felt it in his throat the entire time he was present in the ED.
Ever since he’d returned from his trip, convinced by Jack, he’d started therapy and was seeing a psychiatrist. In other words, he was taking a couple of medications, and for a moment he actually thought his symptoms were side effects of the drugs. However, when he read the package insert, he realized there was nothing listed that could explain his symptoms.
He told his therapist, who, obviously and without any reluctance, recommended going to a doctor. Robby decided to book a private appointment to flee from unnecessary rumors in the hospital. So, he booked an appointment with a cardiologist.
He did an EKG.
There was nothing serious.
He did an echocardiogram.
Nothing there.
Last, he did a Holter test.
That’s when tachycardia was detected, given that he had been hooked up to a machine for 24 hours and had spent at least 12 of those hours in the PTMC. But even so, given that the other tests were normal, the doctor discharged him with a report stating there was absolutely nothing wrong.
Robby couldn’t say that he wasn’t frustrated.
What the hell was happening to him?
And why the hell all of this started when he came back to his house and found Whitaker dancing in his living room? He could even say it was funny, if it weren’t for the fact that his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his mouth. Could his surprise have been so great that it threw his body’s sodium and potassium levels out of whack? That was the only thing that made any sense to him.
Sure, it could only be a chemical imbalance, and not the fact that Dennis Whitaker was in his living room, wearing boxer shorts, his green jacket, and a pair of gray socks. No, of course not. Or the fact that he couldn’t say no to the resident’s pleading puppy-dog eyes. Nonsense. Or because, long before that, Dennis had helped him up during a panic attack when he was still nothing more than a student under his mentorship.
No, that’s an absurd.
Dennis was his resident, that’s it.
A 170cm resident, with dark blond hair that would glow golden under the sun, and eyes so blue as the sky above his head, that twinkled just from helping people. Robby sighed. Oh, no, no.
He really had some kind of problem.
And he would find out.
🩺🩺🩺
And as if God was playing with his face…
His heart began to race with the force of a thousand racehorses the moment he walked through the doors of the PTMC. With his backpack on his back, the waiting room was already packed with patients and people who weren’t quite that sick, greeting him or even looking at him as if he were the savior of the nation—some looked at him as if he had killed the president too.
But, God wasn’t playing with his face right there at that moment. No, that was saved for a few measly minutes later, when he was carrying a cup of coffee—luckily not that hot—and bumped into someone. The cup fell to the floor, along with his precious, crappy coffee from the cafeteria.
He huffed, bending down to pick up the Styrofoam cup at the same time as the person he’d bumped into. He recognized those precious, delicate hands, and dared to lift his head. His heart wouldn’t let up. Of course it wouldn’t. He could feel the pulsing even in his eyes, which trembled with the force of his heartbeat.
Dennis Whitaker had grabbed the cup first and then thrown it into the nearest trash can. Robby stood up and stood there, just watching the situation, until the resident stepped in front of him, looking like a dog that had just been caught doing something. Christ, his eyes! The attendant resisted the urge to clutch his chest, for it was so sudden that a pain radiated through his ribcage.
The resident had his hands clasped in front of him in such an obvious gesture of apology that he didn’t even need to say a word. Robby’s heart was still pounding, though now with a little less intensity after seeing Dennis’s evident remorse.
Even as he wanted to run away, he wanted to reassure his protégé that everything would be all right. So, even though his heart was racing, breaking out in a cold sweat, and trembling, he placed his hand on Dennis’s shoulder, and Dennis’s eyes widened slightly.
“It’s okay, Whitaker, there’s always more in the cafeteria.”
“Then let me pay for it, at least.”
“There’s no need, go back to your job.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Dennis smiled, timidly, and blushed his ears pink.
Well, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Robby could hear his own heartbeats.
🩺🩺🩺
He thought he’d feel better after a 10-minute break and a turkey sandwich from the food cart for lunch. But of course not. Obviously not. The world around him wouldn’t be that merciful. In fact, Dennis Whitaker wouldn’t be that merciful, even unconsciously.
It all started when a slightly overweight woman was admitted to the emergency room with a burning sensation in her stomach. Of course, everyone would think of gastritis or an ulcer, or even a heart attack, since this is a common symptom in women. Everyone would think that, except Dennis Whitaker
The resident stood up to the others, more experienced residents, and even the nurses, to present his diagnosis. He watched with satisfaction as Dennis picked up the ultrasound machine and applied gel to the patient’s abdomen. A small smile played on his face, and that was when Robby’s heart, once again, felt like it was in a never-ending horse race.
Dennis turned the device’s screen toward everyone, revealing an apparently healthy fetus. The patient was in an advanced stage of pregnancy and had no idea, she was nearly 24 weeks along. Robby watched the whole thing without saying a word, his arms crossed over his chest, an attempt to look professional and hide his mysterious symptoms.
Which, by the way…
Robby widened his eyes.
Dennis Whitaker was handsome, competent, a little shy, but with a sharp tongue, a great doctor, had fit arms, looked like an angel with his little golden curls and his big puppy blue eyes.
His heart was racing even more.
His mouth dry.
His body was shaking and sweating.
Well, that wasn’t exactly a problem.
Yet.
“Dr. Robby?”
Robby blinked slowly.
Whitaker still had that look of pride that only a doctor could have after making a correct diagnosis. It suited him, and he lingered there, taking him in from head to toe without even realizing it.
“Dr. Robby?”
Robby cleared his throat, coming back to the real world.
“How can I help you, Whitaker?”
He saw the resident’s lips tighten, almost as if he were holding back a smile.
And, oh, his heart just wouldn’t give him a break.
“I need you to review the chart.”
His hands were shaking as he picked up the tablet.
Those symptoms were far from mysterious.
Robby had a crush.
And that’s where his problem began.
🩺🩺🩺
The next day, Robby sat down on the couch in the therapist’s office and didn’t hold back. He told her everything, even the fact that he felt embarrassed about being in his 50s and having a crush. Not only that, but having a crush, in fact, a huge crush, on his resident, who was 20 something years younger.
The therapist crossed her legs, jotting something down in her notebook.
Her name was Marina; she had thick, curly hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Suddenly, she lowered her notebook and adjusted her glasses, leaning forward slightly. Nothing had prepared Robby for what came out of her mouth.
“So what?”
“Excuse me?”
Marina shrugged.
“So what, Robby?”
“What do you mean ‘so what’,” he quotes with his fingers, “Dennis is my resident and not only that, he’s 27 years old.”
“Don’t you think you’re making a tempest in a teapot? So what he’s your resident? Just go to the HR and communicate, it's as simple as that.”
“Have I told you he’s 27?”
Marina shrugged again, closing her notebook.
“It’s not like he’s 17.”
🩺🩺🩺
On his next shift, Robby ran away from Dennis like the devil runs from the cross. Quite mature for someone in his early 50s, but he wasn’t ready to face him after realizing he had a huge crush on him. That way, he could give his heart a little rest; he was no longer young enough to push one of the body’s most important organs to its limits.
However, of course, the world wouldn’t be on his side.
He bumped into Dana.
“Jesus Christ, Robinavitch, have you seen a ghost?”
He wished it were true, but he was just a runaway. He shook his head, Dana watching him as if she were an MRI machine; he just hoped she couldn’t see his soul in agony over his inappropriate crush on Dennis Whitaker.
And once again, his heart began to race as he saw him pass by, a patient on a gurney with other doctors. Robby swallowed hard, and obviously, the MRI machine Dana Evans could see his soul.
The nurse tapped him on the arm.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Robinavitch,” she pointed a finger to the trauma bay, “they need an attending.”
🩺🩺🩺
In the end, the trauma patient who had arrived would need none other than Brendon Park, the “shark.” Robby had deep respect for him; despite his sharp, sarcastic remarks, the doctor worked flawlessly like no other orthopedist.
However, there was something different in the air when he walked in.
Was Brendon a little more… affectionate?
It wasn’t with everyone, but with someone in particular.
Robby clenched his jaw, his masseter muscle bulging with the tension he felt as he watched the interaction between his resident and the orthopedist. Unlike last time, when the three of them were in the same room, Brendon didn’t make a point of humiliating Dennis; don’t get him wrong, that was great! What wasn’t great was how close the two of them were.
A hand on his shoulder, which should be his.
A smile, which should be his.
Those sparkling eyes that should look only at him and him alone.
His heart was now pounding, but it wasn’t exactly because of his crush on Dennis. No, it was pounding because of jealousy, and for the first time, he admitted those feelings to himself. He could barely finish performing some procedures on the patient; his hands were shaking violently.
Finally, the patient was transferred, and he was finally able to leave that room, taking off his gown and throwing it in the trash.
However, the stress of jealousy combined with the stress of the case had a negative impact on his body. He felt everything spinning, and before he could fall, he saw worried blue eyes looking in his direction.
Could it be an angel coming to take him to paradise?
🩺🩺🩺
He woke up groaning.
And everything that had led him to that hospital bed came flooding back to him. Good God! If shame could kill, he’d already be six feet under. He rubbed his face with his hand, not realizing he had company in the room.
“Dr. Robby?”
Well, the scream that escaped his throat only added to the sense of shame he felt inside. Whitaker, on the other hand, was stifling a laugh, trying to remain professional in front of his mentor. His heart began to race again, and to add to his humiliation that day, his rapid heartbeat was visible on the monitor.
Oh, for God’s sake!
“You had a blood pressure spike, Dr. Robby,” Dennis frowned, “the symptoms should be wearing off by now with the medication I prescribed. Do you have any specific health conditions?”
Yes, a crush.
“No.”
Now that he realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, he felt his face flush. Robby had never been a shy man, but at that moment, with Dennis there, he had become one. His resident had seen his bare chest! What had he thought? Did he think it was attractive? Did he think it was disgusting? Did he touch it?
His heart was racing even faster, and Dennis frowned as he looked at the heart monitor. Oy, Gevalt! He had to stop that; it wasn’t good for his health. He needed to get over that obsessive crush, or else he’d die.
But then again…
He scoffed at the thought of how affectionate Brendon was toward Dennis.
And that made him blurt it out without thinking twice.
“Are you dating Brendon?”
Whitaker choked on his own saliva, getting red instantly. Robby could only stare in disbelief when he realized what he had said.
“Would that be a problem?,” he asked after straightening himself.
“Well, not exactly,” Robby answered, a little bit annoyed by that.
But Dennis just shook his head.
“We are not dating, Dr. Robby, we’re just good mates, that’s all.”
Robby breathed out, sounding relieved.
“Oh, thank God!”
“I beg your pardon?”
The screen monitor, one more time, showed all his stress.
Yeah, fuck this shit.
He removed the electrodes from his chest; he wanted to show him what he was feeling in a more intimate way, to blame him for his humiliating situation, but seeing him with wide eyes made him slow down. Still bare-chested, he took the stethoscope from Dennis’s neck, placing the earpieces in his ears. He handed the chest piece to his resident, who understood that he was supposed to listen to his heart, even though Robby had already been monitored.
He watched Dennis listening intently, furrowing his brow a few times as Robby’s heartbeat seemed to grow faster and faster. From so close, he could smell his cologne, something masculine, but not too strong; he could see the freckles on his skin, his blond eyelashes, and his eyes so, so blue and so, so kind.
Before Dennis could step back, he held his hand to his chest.
The resident’s face flushed.
His blue eyes met his, they seemed to be searching for some kind of answer, but the stethoscope in his ears was what provided some sort of explanation.
“Robby?”
The attending smiled hearing his name without any formal pronouns.
“I’m having some heart problems, Dennis.”
“Heart problems?”
“Yeah, and that’s your fault.”
Dennis laughed, not believing.
“How can I be causing you heart problems?”
“I like you, Dennis, that’s the answer.”
The resident fell silent, his face flushed and stunned, until he opened his mouth in surprise and smiled. Dennis closed his eyes for a moment before removing the stethoscope from his ears, wrapping it back around his neck, and throwing himself into Robby’s arms. The doctor sighed with relief, but his heart, as always, wouldn’t let up.
He held Dennis close in his arms, stroking his hair.
“I like you too, Robby.”
He stepped back, but remained close, and Robby cupped his face in one hand while the other reached for his neck, just above the artery. He could feel his heartbeat through his fingers, and every time their faces drew closer, the beats grew stronger.
Their hearts were beating as one.
And their mouths met in a simple kiss, yet one filled with unspoken emotions.
They pressed their foreheads together.
“It seems like my heart problems will persist for a while.”
Dennis put Robby’s hand right on his chest.
“You’re not the only one.”
🩺🩺🩺
Well, they’d been dating for two months now.
And Robby’s heart seemed to settle down a little more around Dennis, as did his trembling and cold sweats. Everything seemed…normal.
Almost too normal.
Until…
On yet another shift, Robby was swamped, running back and forth between stations, handling both simple and complex cases, with no time to stop, until Dana forced him to take at least a five-minute break. It wasn’t his real intention, but his body and mind unconsciously sought out Dennis.
The resident was like his stress ball; every time he touched him, he felt a rush of serotonin course through his body, no matter where. Unfortunately, someone seemed to be in a hurry in the hospital hallways and bumped into Robby. The doctor grunted at the impact.
“I’m so sorry, Robby!”
Robby blinked.
Dennis was sitting on the floor, flushed, with a white liquid all over his neck and scrubs—it looked like milk of magnesia, judging by the bottle on the floor next to him. Robby was stunned, unable to say a single word.
Inside, however, he relived night after night they had spent together, and the image before him, vivid and real, did nothing to dissipate the millions of memories.
He felt the pain radiate through his chest, just as his heartbeat went from steady to erratic in a matter of seconds; his face flushed, and a bead of sweat trickled down his neck. As if all that weren’t enough, the trembling had returned.
He clutched his chest with his hand.
“I definitely have some heart problems.”