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Robby and Dennis had been dating for the past three months, and honestly, there wasn't much to complain about.
If Dennis had one wish, it was that Robby would finally go to therapy and stop scaring him with the constant fear that one day he'd walk into his boyfriend's apartment and find him overdosed or bleeding out. Aside from that, though, things were good.
Well, Kind of.
Dennis didn't complain about it because he knew it was nobody's problem but his own to deal with.
Lately, he'd found the stress from work steadily piling up. As grateful as he was for the position he held, it was slowly eating away at him, dredging up old coping mechanisms he'd thought were gone and never to be seen again. Those humiliating coping skills that frequently left him feeling rejected by those around him.
That coping mechanism being regression.
They made plans for tonight— after their shift they would spend the night together, maybe watch a movie, make dinner together and cuddle to sleep.
It's what Dennis wanted to do. He really did.
He'd walked into work that morning determined to keep himself together. No spiraling thoughts, no retreating into old habits. Just one shift at a time.
Then the patient started yelling.
Dennis had only been trying to take the older man's vitals. The man's veins kept rolling beneath the needle, making each attempt more difficult than the last. Once. Twice. Three times.
By the third try, the patient had lost what little patience he had.
"Do you even know what your doing?" the man snapped.
Dennis froze.
"I hate coming to hospital because of people like you, can’t you just do it right and use the fucking education you paid for?”
The words hit harder than they should have. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the man wasn't finished.
Each insult seemed louder than the last, drawing attention from nearby staff and patients. Dennis could feel the heat creeping up his neck.
Then Langdon appeared.
"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, stepping into the room.
The patient immediately ranted angrily about Dennis, requesting a ‘real doctor’ as he explained the struggle they had trying to get his blood samples.
"Alright," Langdon said at last. "I'll take it from here." He shot Dennis a sympathetic look but was quick to return his focus back to the patient.
Dennis stepped back.
He watched as Langdon approached the patient with the same equipment and the same difficult veins. A few minutes later, the procedure was finished.
Rather than sit around and listen to Langdon be praised as some form of humiliation ritual he left the room, something heavy settling in his chest.
Logically, he knew difficult patients existed. He knew missed attempts happened to everybody . He knew Langdon had years more experience than he did.
…but that didn’t matter.
He simply wasn’t good enough, everyone could see it. Rather than deal with his emotions— Dennis quickly pushed them down and returned his attention to his next patient, smiling politely and asking for symptoms.
When the day finally ended Dennis shamefully felt nothing but dread as he thought about spending the night with Robby.
He loves spending time together but tonight just wasn’t the right time— he just needed a moment to decompress, to finally spill out that humiliating side of him. To be little and cry as hard as possible as he hugged his teddy bear and imagined someone actually taking care of him.
“Ready, baby?” Robby smiled, clearly equally exhausted from their shift. Dennis offered a smile and nodded in return, joining the older man in his car and allowing him to take them to his apartment.
The car ride was silent, both men too tired to make small talk.
Despite this, they did what they planned. Dinner was quick and easy— Robby handling a majority of it as Dennis cut vegetables and washed used dishes. Once they ate, they headed to the living room to start up a movie— Top Gun, something Robby loved and something Dennis could care less for.
Rather than complain he just leaned into Robby, staring blankly at the TV as he replayed today’s screw ups.
This went on for at least five minutes before a hand gently squeezed the nape of his neck. “What’s going on in that busy little head of yours?” Robby hummed, turning down the volume but not bothering to pause the movie.
“Nothing,” Dennis mumbled, already beginning to feel that familiar daze and overwhelming emotions that came with his regression.
“Don’t lie. What happened?”
Dennis doesn’t know why, but Robby’s tone felt almost…parental. It probably wasn’t, he’s just looking for anything to make himself feel safe. Anything to make himself spill his guts and admit what’s been happening.
“A patient. I couldn’t draw his blood and he got really pissed and called me a few things.” Dennis quickly cleared his throat as he felt it tighten. He hates when he gets like this. It’s not even that serious yet here he is— near tears over something stupid.
Robby sighed with a frown, pulling the boy closer, “he’s a prick, patients get angry all the time so don’t bother blaming yourself. You’re still learning, it’s okay.”
Maybe it was the comfort of the hug and words or maybe it’s just the desperate desire to be completely open and honest with his partner but Dennis finally spills.
“I-I’ve been on the brink of f-falling back on old habits. I…I don’t know why and I don’t know what to do but I just feel so small all the time and like I don’t know what I’m doing. I…I keep nearly regressing at work and-.”
"Dennis."
The interruption was immediate.
His stomach dropped.
Robby sighed, pulling away just enough to look at him.
"Please don't tell me about that."
Dennis felt his chest tighten.
"You know how I feel," Robby continued. "I'm not your dad, and I don't want to know about it. We agreed that some parts of our lives would stay personal. It makes me uncomfortable."
The room suddenly felt colder.
Robby loved the version of Dennis that everyone else saw. The competent doctor. The adult. The man who could hold conversations and pay bills and navigate the world without falling apart.
Not this version.
Not the one who felt fragile and overwhelmed. Not the one whose coping mechanisms embarrassed him. Not the one who occasionally wanted nothing more than to retreat from adulthood entirely because carrying its weight had become too exhausting.
To Dennis, it feels like he’s been carrying the weight of being an adult since the day he was born. Being forced to practically be a second mom, to raise his older brothers and emotionally provide for his parents. He never once got to just be…little. Humiliation has been a long known ritual in his life, a common denominator that surrounded him for the most mundane task. Yet now, it surrounded his relationship and his own entire being.
“I’m sorry, you’re right— I don’t know why I said that. It’s dumb.”
‘I’m dumb,’ he couldn’t help but think. Why does he ever think things will be different? Why does he keep up this pathetic, idiotic hope that maybe someone would accept this embarrassing part of himself.
“I won’t talk about it again, promise,” Dennis offered a smile, feeling his throat tighten and nose burn with the urge to cry. Rather than let himself unintentionally emotionally manipulate, he quickly blinked away his tears and just nuzzled into the older man.
Robby relaxed slightly, clearly relieved that Dennis dropped the topic.
Why is listening to him talk about the weird parts of his life so hard? Dennis does it all the time— all he ever does is listen and comfort and try. Surely he’s earned his keep? Earned his ability to be enough to love. Why is this small part of his life too much?
Robby falls asleep before the movie even ends. In a selfish way, Dennis can’t help but be thankful. He’s hurt…and maybe a little angry. Why can Robby be selfish but he never can be?
Slipping out of the older man’s hold, Dennis sneaks away to the bathroom, just staring at himself in the mirror. With hesitation he pulls a pacifier from his pocket and pops it into his mouth.
He brought it just in case, in hopes that maybe Robby would finally love him— all of him.
As he stares at himself in the mirror, a disgusting reflection of an embarrassment stares back at him. A grown man with such an infantile item in his mouth.
A choked sob manages to escape. All he wants is to finally be free, to not feel so humiliated every time he lets himself cope. Why couldn’t he be normal? Why couldn’t he be enough?
Dennis doesn’t know, but he does know that this is a habit he’s going to have to break if he wants Robby to stay around. If he was the older man, he’d leave too.
Or maybe Robby would finally accept this part of him and love him?
What a stupid thought.