Archive of Our Own ^beta

By the time Dennis Whitaker had finished his rotations, graduated, miraculously matched into the Pitt, and become an actual doctor, he thought he had gotten the hang of the ER department. Used to the running up and down the corridors and in and out of the rooms, used to the ever present sense of urgency that fuelled his every move, used to his coworkers and used to the slight smell of blood that clinged to his hands. So of course the universe had to punish him for such foolish thinking.

It all started going wrong when his alarm wasn’t enough to wake him up in the morning, so he came to consciousness to Trinity pounding on his door, threatening to leave him behind - she wouldn’t actually do that, like she hadn’t done the other three times this had happened. He scrambled out of bed, changing out of his pajamas and into his scrubs impressively quick. He ran his hands through his sleep mussed hair, trying to make it slightly more presentable, and probably failing.

Throwing the door open, he came face to face with his roommate looking amusedly at him. ready to leave for work and holding two paper bags.

“You better thank God for my existence when you pray, Huckleberry. I already packed your lunch. Now please, be quick so we won’t be that late.” She said it all in the same smug tone that made it obvious she liked to watch him fumble miserably through life. 

He threw his thanks over his shoulder on the way to the bathroom, deciding not to mention the fact that he indeed thanked God for her existence. Her ego was already big enough as it was. Except it actually wasn’t, and she would probably splutter and blush if he was sincere about his gratefulness. But it was not like he prayed all that much these days, anyway.

Actually getting to the hospital wasn’t that hard, the traffic was miraculously light, which was probably a result of Santos’ good luck interfering in his bad one. It wasn’t uncommon for them to have the same shifts, so clocking in together had become a frequent happening in his life, to the point they no longer got raised eyebrows from coworkers speculating about their relationship. Trinity had made a point to shut those rumors down pretty quickly. He wasn’t sure how she did it, but he knew she would never out him to anyone, about his sexuality or about the fact he had been very much homeless -sorry, unhoused - before she took him in, so he wasn’t all that worried.

“Good morning, everyone." Dr. Robby’s resounding voice greeted the dayshift staff. He rubbed his hands together. “I hope you are all well rested, the night shift already gave a heads up that the leftover patients are particularly tough today, and, unfortunately, they are now our problem. So let’s get on with it and save some lives.” He clapped his hands and the group gathered around him quickly dispersed, ready for their shift.

“Now that was uninspiring,” Santos said quietly, but loud enough for Dennis and Perlah to hear and huff out a small laugh.

“Not much to be inspiring about when the guy in S-12 that was screaming slurs at everyone is supposed to wake up from sedation in 20 minutes. ” Perlah shared conspiratorially, full of resignation.

The two continued their conversation, already part of the gossip mill that, along with coffee, seemed to keep the department up and running. Dennis, however, focused on their attending. Robby looked surprisingly relaxed for someone who had already gotten bad news before his shift even started. He met Dennis' eyes, giving him a nod and a small smile that made the corner of his eyes crinkle slightly. Maybe, Dennis thought, just maybe, the day wouldn’t be that bad. 

That was the most idiotic thing Whitaker had ever dared to think, honestly. He should have known he was jinxing himself even if he hadn’t said anything out loud. It wasn’t even that he had fucked up with a patient, misdiagnosed someone or just done something stupid like te damn IO drill episode -he still had nightmares about that. It was all just plain old bad luck. A patient threw up on him; an old man from the elderly home mistook him for his son and started tearfully questioning on why he never visited anymore; a psych patient tried to run away and he was the one sent to catch her (she almost made it to the street)(his status as the Pitt’s bloodhound lived to see yet another day); his foot was run over by a gurney; a man was brought in because his girlfriend had performed open surgery on him with a broken beer bottle while they were both high on LSD; another patient threw up on him; a 10-year-old boy needed a blood transfusion but his Jehova’s witness parents wouldn’t allow it; and to top it all off, a whole family of farmers came in asking for help with a toddler who had been trampled  by a horse. 

The little girl ended up completely fine, but the sight of the wide-eyed farmers brought a whole set of memories to surface. He missed home. He missed the clean air and the fields and the animals and the starry, endless sky and the strain in his muscles after working the whole day under the sun. He missed his family too, even if he tried not.

Most days, his family was just another thing he left behind. Had to leave behind. But on days like this, when he met people with lives just a little too similar to the one he used to lead, his family became a deep ache in his chest, one that he would not be able to see in scans and exams, nor could he sooth with a call home, like others would. The farm wasn’t his home anymore, his parents had made that crystal clear.

After the family was discharged, Dennis hid himself away in the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked so different. Well, he actually looked pretty much the same as he had when he started at PTMC, except now his hair was a little bit longer, curling at the nape of his neck and on his forehead, and his eye bags were less prominent since he started getting a whole night of sleep while living with Trinity, not having to worry about getting caught staying in the abandoned hospital wing. 

But he felt so different, at least from how he was back in Nebraska. He didn’t harbor freckles anymore, not enough time spent under the sun for that. He didn’t carry his crucifix around his neck either, the loss of its weight like an absent leash. But he was happier. He was. With his job, with Trinity, in a city that gave him the animosity his hometown could never do. He liked Pittsburgh, however different it was from Broken Brow, and he especially enjoyed the opportunity of meeting so many different people every day, whenever he went.

So yeah, Dennis was happy, but there were still bad days, and he was pretty sure those never really stopped.

He sighed, and mentally prepared himself to go back outside and save some more lives. The last part of the thought came in Robby’s fake cheery tone and he felt scorn rise up in him. As if he could do anything for that boy that was going to die because his parents were too focused on a false God to actually do something useful for their son. Dennis breathed in and out as he stepped back into the ER. This was his job, he may not like every aspect of it, but he couldn’t let the bad parts get in the middle of all the good he knew he could, and wanted to do. And so he got back to work.

Whitaker had just finished intubating a 36-years-old woman that had gotten stuck in a burning building when Robby pulled him aside. The woman, Camilla Giriardi, according to the ID found in her wallet, would be fine. Her burns weren’t too bad, but her lungs may have suffered some internal damage. Her scans would take at least another hour, so he followed his attending.

Both men entered an unused examining room, Dennis closed the door after them and turned to face Robby. His good humour from earlier had diminished considerably, to say the least. He looked tired, and like a small part of his faith in humanity had been crushed. Dennis could relate.

“Are you feeling good, Whitaker?” He didn’t use his first name, not in the hospital and not when they both went back to his place together. But he also didn't call him ‘doctor’ like he did the other residents, “You seem a little… down, today. Did something happen?” 

The question was perfectly professional, except his voice was a little too concerned, his expression a little too fond. Dennis sighed, there was no easy answer for that, he felt on edge, like all his feelings, past and present, were pressing against his chest, begging to be felt.

“I don’t know.” He started, “I guess... this just hasn’t been a very good day.”

 If he went into any details about why he was feeling like curling up in the ground and not getting up until next week, they would be there for a while, so he tried to convey 'not right now, please' with just his eyes.

Robby gave him a sad little understanding smile, his hand reaching for Dennis’ face, who gladly leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and letting out a frankly embarrassing sigh. The whole interaction was way too heartfelt for the non-committal way their relationship was supposed to be.

“How about we go back to my place tonight? I can help you relax a bit.” Robby offered. By the softness of his voice and the kindness in his touch, anyone would think they were actual lovers, with an actual relationship, not the casual bullshit they in fact had. But Dennis would take 'casual bullshit' over nothing any day, so he nodded.

“Ok.” Robby let go of his face, already moving towards the door. “See you out there, Whitaker.”

Their whole thing had started months ago, when Dennis was still a student doing his ER rotation in the Pitt,. Of course he thought Robby was hot from day one, of course he noticed the way the attending looked at him, with his eyes wrinkling in amusement, and, sometimes, if he dared to hope, admiration. And of course he noticed the way Doctor Robinavitch couldn’t seem to get his hand off of him. 

All of the touching threw him off, truly. Yes, it was nice, warm, but also confusing, because what could it mean that someone like Robby was touching someone like Dennis? He had grown out of hating himself and his sexuality in med school, so he could recognize his own desires when Robby touched him. But what did it mean for the older man?

He settled on what to do about Robby’s mixed signs after a conversation with Trinity, of all people. They had just arrived home from what he remembered to be their third shift together, their movements still a bit mechanical around each other. She had kicked off her shoes and turned to him, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how to get the words out. He waited patiently until she blurted out.

“Does Dr. Robby make you uncomfortable?”

Dennis blinked, surprise clear in his face.

“Humm… No? Why are you asking me that?” He paused, frowning as he considered her question. “Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“What? No!” She sounded frustrated now. Dennis didn’t follow. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… I noticed how much he touches you. Like, all the time. And I was wondering if it made you feel bad. Because he’s your boss. He can’t keep doing shit like that if it makes you upset. And if you don’t like it, you should definitely tell someone. Maybe Robby would listen if you asked him to stop. Or you could tell Dana or Kiara, I’m sure they would get him to stop.”

She seemed actually worried. It was reassuring, knowing that she cared so much . He contemplated the words for a moment and then gave her a small smile.

“It's okay, Santos. I don’t mind it.” Quite the opposite . “I noticed the touching, but I honestly thought I was just imagining it.” Wishful thinking. “Thanks for looking out for me, though.” 

“Don’t mention it, Huckleberry.” She said dismissively, but seemed relieved as she walked into the kitchen and pulled out the leftovers from the day before from the fridge. “And it was definitely not your imagination. It’s truly alarming, he treats you like you’re his personal human sized stressball.”

Dennis snorted, following her into the kitchen and falling easily into the banter that would define their whole friendship.

After Trinity confirmed he wasn’t just projecting his very unprofessional feeling for his boss, Dennis decided to take action. This could go very well, ending with him getting laid, or this could go very, very, very bad, ending with losing his rotation, his graduation and the little dignity he had. So he had to be very smart with his advances on Robby, creating plausible deniability in case he was reading it all wrong.

So, the next day, every time Robby touched him, and oh did he touch him, Dennis would lean on it, press himself onto the older man’s hand, and make eye contact the same way he would do with guys he wanted to hook up with. It was nothing alarming or obviously inappropriate to outside spectators, but he felt the shift in Dr. Robbys’s demeanor the very first time he did it. The attending had blinked, gulped and stumbled a bit on his words before composing himself.

Dennis considered it a great success, especially when, after only a few days, Robby’s touches had definitely increased in both frequency and boldness. His heavy hands now settled on Dennis’ waist when they crossed each other, or on the back of his neck, thumb caressing his hair almost imperceptively. It was all quick and never in front of the rest of the staff but he had definitely folded easier than Dennis expected.

The attending finally broke on a random Tuesday. The shift hadn’t even been particularly bad, nor had been Dennis unusually daring, but that didn’t seem to matter, because, with 20 minutes left on his shift, Robby materialized behind him.

“Whitaker? Can I have a quick word with you?” He sounded casual, almost too casual.

Dennis was grateful he hadn’t startled too bad, but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing in his chest. He knew it was now or never, Robby would either make his move or tell him to stop this madness. Whitaker really hoped it was the former.

When they got to an empty corridor, Dennis gazed innocently at his attending.

“Can I help you with something, Dr. Robby?” His voice sounded breathy even to his own ears.

Robby inhaled deeply, as if gathering courage for what he was about to say.

“Look, kid, I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong, and I’m really, really sorry if I am.” He paused. “This is so wrong but…” He looked at the ceiling, breathing out what sounded suspiciously like ‘fuck this’, “Would you like to go home with me tonight?’ 

Dennis took a few seconds to process the question, time enough for Robby to start panicking, raising his hands in an appeasing, but clearly desperate, gesture. Thankfully, for both of them, Dennis' body acted without input from his brain. He grabbed one of Robby’s large hands in his, and smiled.

“Yes. Yes, I would like that.”

With less than 5 minutes for his shift to end, Dennis searched for Trinity to let her know he wouldn’t be coming back home with her that day. He found her talking animatedly with Dr. Ellis in the nurse station., their smiles mirroring each other.

“Trin.” She whirled around to face him, her hands mid dramatic gesture. “You can head out without me tonight.”

Santos smirked. “Oh? You have a date with your secret admirer tonight, Hucleberry?”

He never told her he was seeing someone, nevertheless who he was seeing, but she caught up with his escapades pretty quickly, and after her initial questioning and his profuse evasiveness , she thankfully let him be.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Whitaker” Ellis chimed in, teasing and curious in equal measure. “Do we know the lucky person?”

Before he had time to deny anything, Trinity answered.

“Nah, he really follows the ‘don’t kiss and tell’ thing. It 's infuriating. The curiosity will kill me one of these days”

“I hope it does.” Dennis said, and quickly dodged the punch she threw his way. He smiled triumphantly, the brief interaction almost enough to make him forget his uneasiness. Almost. “I’m going to go now. See you tomorrow.”

Trinity huffed. “Yeah, whatever, Stuart Little. Remember to use protection.”

He rolled his eyes, waving his goodbye to Ellis, who watched their interaction with clear amusement, and left to gather his things. 

Back when Dennis was doing his last few rotations elsewhere, he and Robby would text each other to arrange their meetings. But now that he was back on the Pitt, it was an unspoken agreement between them that the first one to leave was supposed to wait for the other outside, where it was less likely for someone else to see them and question what they were doing. More frequently than not, Dennis was the one waiting, and tonight was no different. Being left alone in the well lit sidewalk, he found himself looking up at the sky, searching for the stars. It was almost impossible to see them with the city lights. He sighed.

It was not just the stars that he struggled to find in Pittsburgh. He had left a part of himself in Nebraska, he knew that, and it was with patients like the ones he had today that the missing bits made themselves a little more pronounced. It was not just the religion he lost conviction in or the yearning for a lifestyle he no longer had. It was the lack of familiarity those things provided, it was the fact he was forced to leave those things behind.

His faith had never been as steady as his parents wished, the questions were always there, even if he didn’t voice them. The wonderings on why a God that was all powerful let the cattle get sick, or why a God that was good sent people to hell for who they were, or even, why a God that was supposed to love him allowed him to be so miserable. He never doubted aloud, though. He  went to church every Sunday, sporting his best clothes, he prayed with the rest of his family before each meal, he kneeled beside his bed and thanked God for the day he had had every night.

God had been the soothing balm for his loneliness, he ached for the community he found in the church and the comfort brought by the soft lull of the priest’s voice, the harmonising of the hymns and the teachings of the Bible. God was in the sun that rose every morning and in the moon that illuminated the nights and in every single seed that grew in the fields. He was the reason for all the beauty in Dennis’ world.

But, in the mornings he woke up to find an animal sick, soon to be dead, and there was nothing he could do about it, he felt an untamable rage inside of him. He felt angry at God for making him impotent, he felt angry at his father for being so indifferent, and most of all he felt angry at himself, because it was his fault in the end. They were being punished for Dennis’s sins after all. 

He still missed it, though, the comfort praying provided, when he wasn’t desperately asking for forgiveness after looking a bit too long at the strong arms of the Andersons’ oldest son, that is. Prayer was the absolution of his ungodly deeds and a soothing to the despair brought by the parts of himself he had no control over.

It was because of one of those uncontrollable things that his parents had kicked him out. Looking back, he was surprised it had taken them so long to figure it out. Maybe they had been in denial as much as him. But he had always been a bit different from his brothers, more curious, suspicious of the things he was told, less inclined to blind faith. He had always wished for more.

Dennis remembered the day it all went to shit with clarity. It had been a hot evening of June, the sky was clear, with no clouds in sight and tinted a blue so pure it could have come out straight off a paint tube, the wind hit the tall grass and made it all feel like a dream. He could still hear the echoes of laughter in the air. Matt was laying down on the ground by his side, his tan skin glowed in the sun. Dennis was mesmerized by him. 

The other boy had been visiting his grandparents, who lived a few miles from his family’s farm. They met when Whitaker was sent to return some pots to Matt’s grandmother, and they had hit it off immediately. The two boys kept meeting every day after that, neglecting their tasks to spend blissful hours running around, talking and laughing. Matt was 18, like Dennis, and he was going to be a fire fighter; it suited him, Whitaker believed, his strong body and warm smile fitting his ideas of a hero.

That summer was the first time he harbored actual feelings for someone. At school, he had never been infatuated with the girls like the other boys, and the reasons that made him look at the Anderson's eldest were mostly beyond his comprehension. But now, it was undeniable; Dennis had always tried to suppress his less than appropriate emotions towards other men, but Matt had dug all that he had buried deep inside himself and brought it with them to the light of the sun. On that particular day, they were talking about their futures.

“I guess I'll stay here, help my brothers out with the farm. Follow the family tradition.” Dennis had shared, keeping his voice carefully neutral, he was sitting on the dirt, legs crossed, picking at the grass by his feet.

“Is that what you want to do?” Matt was propped in his elbows, his honey eyes searching for something in the other boy’s.

“I don’t know what I want to do.” He paused. “I don’t know if I even have an option.”

“Of course you do.” Matt had immediately said. “You can do whatever you want, dude. You can go wherever you want and be whoever you wanna be.”

“You really think so?” Dennis asked, softly, leaning unconsciously closer.

The other boy smiled sweetly. “I really do, Dennis. Allow yourself to be… more. I know you’ll be wonderful.”

The words had made Whitaker’s eyes sting. His gaze traveled to Matt’s lips, and then to his eyes and back to the ground. He heard the dirt shifting slightly beside him, and then Matt’s face was in front of him, forcing him to look back up. He felt a hand cradle his chin gently, and then the warmth of lips on his. Dennis closed his eyes. The kiss was chaste, tender and incredibly sweet. Their bodies moved, finding a way to get closer to each other without parting their lips. It was the most blissful he had ever felt.

“Dennis?” A voice called. Both boys looked up, their cheeks innocently tinted. It was Dennis’ older brother, Nathan.

After that, things were a blur. Nathan had taken in the sight in front of him and bolted towards their home. Dennis panicked and pushed Matt away in his haste to get up. He ran, not bothering to look back or check up on the boy who had just given him his first kiss. He ran to nowhere, until his lungs stopped working and his legs gave out under him. Time passed, but he knew it didn’t matter, he knew his brother would not let that go. Dennis was ruined.

When he finally made his way back home, it was already dark, the crickets were singing , the moon was casting silvery light on his path, and the stars were mocking him from the night sky. The old fashioned farmhouse stood tall and intimidating in front of him. Dennis had been gone for hours, and the house seemed inhibited from the outside, there were no lights on, but the aged wood creaked with the gentle breeze. He pushed the door open carefully, stepping as silently as possible so the floor wouldn’t groan under his weight. His efforts were in vain. As soon as he reached the stairs, his father’s voice called his name from the shadowed kitchen.

The conversation that followed still haunted his nightmares.Nathan had told their parents, and they awaited for him. He had kept his head lowered, hiding the tears that streamed down his cheeks and the shame that overcame his face, as his parents stripped him of everything he had ever known. As they blamed him for being what he was, called him wrong, and unholy and dirty and a goddamned fucking faggot.  

That night, Dennis lost everything he had ever had. That night he was robbed of the only life he had ever known. That night, he grabbed the meager earnings he had saved over the years and stuffed a few clothes in an old bag. That night he left his family, the farm, Nebraska, his whole life behind. And never went back.

Whitaker was pulled out of his reminiscing by Robby approaching him. The shift had clearly caught up with him, leaving him looking tired and disheveled. He still smiled at his intern, though.

“Hey there. Sorry for making you wait so long. Are you ready to go?”

Dennis checked his phone, and, sure enough, twenty minutes had passed since had left the hospital. Losing himself to the past like that made him feel thoughtfully exhausted. But Robby was here, so he swallowed his dejection.

“Yeah. Let 's go.”

The walk to the attending’s car and the drive to his home were spent in silence, as they often were.. It was common for them both to still be entangled in the emotions of the day, processing their shift. Their dates, if one could even call them that, happened at random, with one of them approaching the other and making the invitation, sometimes after a hard shift, others a perfectly normal day. It depended fully on their desires and didn’t really follow a calendar. 

It was nice, their arrangement. It allowed them to decline the other’s invitation with no hard feelings. But it was just sex. Dennis would come over, have a great time with his boss, fall asleep in his bed, and then, before the sun could rise, he would slip from under the covers and go home. He never lingered for breakfast, and Robby never asked him to stay, so he didn’t. If he wished for something else, something meaningful , well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

When they finally arrived in Robby’s building, Dennis’s body followed the routine he was by now used to. He climbed out of the car and followed Robby down the hallway. The companionable silence they shared before was gone,  replaced by the uncomfortable quietness that had plagued their first meetings. Despite feeling the tension, Whitaker had no idea of what to say to make things better. Maybe it had been a mistake to come with Robby. He wasn’t even in the mood for sex, for God’s sake. He had only accepted the offer because he was feeling miserable and his stupid feelings for his fucking boss made him feel safe around the man. He should have gone home with Trinity and cried himself to sleep.

His regretful internal ramblings were cut short by Robby unlocking the door to his apartment. The place was familiar by now, and its untidiness brought a small comfort to his apprehensive thoughts. The couch and armchair were old and worn, made soft by time and use and piled with pillows and blankets. The coffee table was covered in coffee stains and held at least half a dozen unfinished books. The TV rack seemed to be a heritage, ancient and scratched, laden with trinkets and picture frames. Dennis smiled despite himself, he liked the homeliness of it all.

“Whitaker?” Robby’s voice was low behind him. Dennis turned and was instantly met with forceful lips on his, a strong, large hand grabbing his hair, the other finding its way around his waist. On any other day, he would happily give back as good as he was getting, lose himself in the other man’s body and in the way they moved together. But today, he couldn't find it in himself to do anything. His consciousness felt detached from his body and he couldn’t force himself to kiss Robby back, to tease and lick like he usually would. Instead, he stood there, unmoving in the other’s arms.

“Whitaker?” The older man’s voice was now laced with confusion rather than lust. “Is there something wrong?”

Dennis came to with a sharp intake of breath, panic hitting him hard. “I’m- I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have come- I’m sorry, I can’t do this today, I’m-” He untangled himself from his attending, stepping backwards towards the door. He tried the handle but it was locked. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Robby, I just-” 

“Hey, hey, Whitaker, it’s okay, it’s fine.” Robby’s tone shifted to doctor mode, trying his best to calm a panicking patient, hands raised in a placating gesture, as he would do in the hospital. “Everything’s okay. We don't have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? I would never force you to do anything, alright? It’s important that you know that. Do you know that, Whitaker?”

At this point in their relationship, Dennis could read Robby pretty well, so he knew the man was currently kicking himself internally, probably convinced he had been coercing the intern into having sex with him from the start; which couldn’t be further from the truth. He took a deep breath.

“Yes, I know. I know. I’m sorry. Sorry.” He opened his mouth to speak again, to explain himself, to reassure his boss, but he couldn’t find the words.

“It’s fine, there’s no need for apologies. If someone should be apologizing here, it’s me, ok?” He approached Whitaker slowly, hands still in his line of sight.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Robby.” He sighed, he suddenly felt very, very tired.  “You invited me over and I said yes, of course that would mean I wanted to… do this. It’s just- I don’t feel like it anymore.”

‘That’s alright, Whitaker, you’re allowed to change your mind. Do you want to go home? I can drive you there.”

“No! No… I mean, I wanted to be with you, I still want to, to be honest” Oh God, had he really just admitted that? “I just don’t feel in the mood for… sex.” He finished meekly.

Robby blinked in clear surprise. A beat passed between them.

“I- yes, of course! I mean, sure, you can stay. Yeah.” He was clearly unsure on what to say. This was uncharted territory. “ You must be hungry. I’m gonna order some take out, if that’s fine by you. Or… I could cook something up real quick?”

“Take out is fine, thank you.” Dennis felt himself calm down. He would stay, they would eat, and everything would be fine, things would go back to normal between them. 

They settled on what to order and took turns using the bathroom, which unleashed a whole new set of awkward interactions between them. Usually, they would move things to the shower and get “clean” there, or just skip it altogether. But not tonight. Tonight, Robby gave Whitaker a set of clothes that were way too big for him but smelled just like the other man.. Tonight, he stood alone beneath the running water as it turned cold and failed to wash the feelings of the day off him. Dennis scrubbed his body clean, using the same soap that made up Robby’s scent, and washed his hair with the same products he could smell when he was on top of the man. 

After the hot water was long gone, he put on the shirt and sweatpants provided to him, hastily dried his hair with a fresh towel and walked out into the corridor that led to the kitchen. A few frames were hung in the wall, pictures of a younger Robby posing besides people Dennis didn’t know; a beautiful shot of who he assumed to be his attending’s grandma; a photograph of a younger Jake, piggybacking on Rooby’s back, taken mid laugh; and a more recent registry from one of the charity galas Dennis had only ever heard about, depicting a smiling Dana standing between Robby and Dr. Abbot.

As Whitaker entered the kitchen, Robby looked up from an opened cutlery drawer. An unreadable look passed his face as he took in the vision of Dennis wearing his clothes. The silence between them stretched until the younger man cleared his throat. Robby’s eyes snapped back to his face.

“Food is here.” He blurted out, stumbling over the words. “You can pick something for us to watch while I grab… um… the things.” 

Dennis decided to take mercy on the other man and just nodded, leaving him alone to recompose himself. Sitting down on the couch, he picked up the remote and swapped channels until he found some nature documentary he couldn’t care less about. Robby joined him on the couch, passing him a food container and a beer. That was new. Whitaker raised one eyebrow at the other man, who helplessly shrugged and turned his attention to his own meal as he settled down on the armchair. The silence lasted until they had both finished inhaling their dinner, and Robby started glancing fitfully up at him.

“So…” He started gently, hesitantly. “Do you want to- I don’t know-  talk about what happened?” 

Dennis sighed, he knew it was coming, but he still wasn’t sure how to answer.

“I- I don’t know. Today was just… too much. Too many memories.” He finished quietly.

Robby hummed. “That family from the farm?”

“And the Jehova’s witness boy, yeah.” That was certainly a start.

“Those are always a pain in the ass.” He made a face at that, it was almost comical hearing his attending talk about patients like that. “What did they remind you of?” 

“My family, I guess. My parents kicked me out when I was 18.” Robby freezed. Fuck, Dennis didn’t mean to just drop that. Well, cat’s out of the bag now. “My brother found me kissing another boy and told them. They weren’t happy about it, to say the least, they are very religious. I had to leave everything behind that day. Moved away on my own, started college, got myself in a support program. Took a lot longer in undergrad than strictly necessary just so I could keep the benefits. Eventually lost them, anyway.” He sighed before continuing, not wanting  to talk about his time being homeless.. “I guess I just know what happens when someone is blinded by faith like that. It got to me.”

Robby was staring at him, aghast.  “Shit, Whitaker, I- I’m so sorry that happened to you.” He sounded genuinely horrified. “You know you didn’t deserve that, right? Regardless of their beliefs, your parents had no right to do that to you. There is nothing wrong with you.” He looked almost frantic in his worry.

“Yes, I know. I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I know better now.” Dennis gave a small smile. “‘ Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.’” What his parents did to him had not been an act of love. “That’s a famous one, Corinthians 13, 4-7.”

“Right. Your theology minor.” Robby settled back on the armchair, a little calmer. “If you don’t mind me asking. Why did you even go into it, considering…?” He trailed off.

“By now I think you’re allowed a question or two.” Dennis huffed a humourless laugh and then shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life at that point. But I needed to study something to get the financial support, so I went after some answers, I guess. I wanted to understand it all. God, religion, what was ‘wrong’ with me. I lost most of my faith in the process, but I learned a lot about myself. And got the skill to quote scripture whenever I want, so I take it as a win.”

Robby chuckled. “It’s certainly a way to look at it. What about medicine, when did you decide you wanted to become a doctor?” Even after this whole ordeal, he sounded genuinely curious.

Dennis smiled back at him, laying back on the couch, the confusing amalgamation of emotions in his chest finally easing. “I’m sorry to disappoint, it’s not that dramatic of a story. I had this great professor, he was a priest, and he told me about the volunteer work he did in warzones when he was younger, taking care of the injured and saving lives in the midst of all the destruction and pain. I decided then that I wanted to be able to help people too, so I studied my ass off and got into med school.”

“That is actually a bit dramatic, you know. Being inspired by a war hero and all.” Robby smiled teasingly, the low light lamp casting a warm glow to his even warmer expression.

“It’s certainly a way to look at it.” Dennis repeated, playfully. “What about you, Robby? What got you into medicine?”

“Fair enough, I should have seen that one coming.” He considered his answer, readjusting himself on his seat. “Remember how I told you I grew up with my grandmother?” Whitaker nodded. “Well, when I was young, our only neighbors were other old ladies and gentlemen, and they constantly needed help around their houses or with little chores they couldn’t do on their own anymore. So, being the youngest person available, my grandma would send me to help them out with whatever they needed. And then, one day, Mr. Lawrence from across the street broke his pelvis, and he didn’t have any family to take care of him or enough money to pay someone else to do it. So I did it for free and… I don’t know, it was so gratifying to see him actually get better every day, you know? He would thank me profusely every single time I stopped by, but I honestly think he did more for me than I did for him, in the end. He made me realize that I loved helping people, that I wanted to see other’s ability to heal, and contribute to that.”

Whitaker smiled at the far away look in Robby’s face. He could easily imagine a younger version of his boss helping out his neighbors because his grandma told him to do so. “That’s a nice sentiment.”

“I guess so.” Robby sighed. His expression then shifted to a more somber one, giving Dennis an assessing look. “Since we’re having this… heart to heart, I wanted to take the chance and thank you.” The young man felt his eyes widen. “After the Pittfest… Well, it all started long before the Pittfest but- I was a mess, is what I’m trying to say. I was not in a good place, psychologically speaking, and after my- my breakdown in Pedes, I was forced to face that fact.” The attending looked down, flexing his fingers nervously. “Dana and Jack were - they were already worried about me, saying I should seek professional help. But it was you, Whitaker, that made me follow through with their advice, because I let everyone down that day, and you were the one who got me off the floor and… I noticed the way you looked at me after your first day. Worried, like you expected me to break down any minute. And I- I decided that I didn’t want to -couldn’t- be something that you worried about.” He rubbed his hands over his knees, a nervous gesture. “So I actually went to a therapist. And I have been seeing her regularly and… yeah, it really helps. And I know this is a lot to just drop on you, especially after… the shitty day you had. But I really wanted to thank you so… yeah. Thank you.” 

Robby raised his head again, facing Whitaker directly. The array of emotions displayed in his face reminded him of an abandoned dog expecting to be kicked. Dennis felt something in himself soften ,and his heart ached for the man that was, with obvious difficulty, opening up to him. 

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.” It came out impossibly soft. “I’m happy you’re doing better.”

“I really am.”

The silence lingered between them. In the quiet, both men felt the rawness that came with baring yourself to another person, and decided that, maybe, it wasn’t that bad to be known. At that moment, everything seemed just a little bit easier. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Robby got up from his spot in the armchair and approached the couch, placing one of his knees on the seat beside Dennis and leaning over him. Whitaker followed the motion with his eyes, trying to unravel the other’s expression. Robby smiled tenderly, unconcealed, eyes creasing. He tilted his head down slowly, giving him the time to refuse his advances. Dennis closed the gap between them. The kiss was nothing but chaste, a new softness to their moving, a new perspective to their relationship. 

Robby’s large hands came to his face, gently cradling and caressing his cheeks. Dennis placed one of his hands on top of his large ones, the other reaching for the back of Robby’s neck. When the kiss came to an end, the older man kept close, whispering inaudibly if not for their closeness. “How do you feel about going to bed? I think you deserve the rest.”

Dennis hesitated for a second, but eventually nodded, smiling slightly. He recognized the words not as an invitation, but as an offer of genuine, companionable rest. Robby smiled back, holding onto his hand and pulling him up. Whitaker felt giddy as he was led to the bathroom and given his spare toothbrush that, he noticed now, was kept along with Robby’s in a mug beside the sink.

They brushed their teeth side by side, a novel sense of domesticity to the action. Dennis felt carefree, like a weight he had been carrying for a long time was removed from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how things would be the next morning, but maybe they didn’t have to go back exactly to how they were, he could now see a new layer to Robby, one that, he hoped, returned his feelings.

Leaving the bathroom, Robby pulled him into the bedroom. He had been there plenty of times before, but that was probably the first time he actually paid attention to his surroundings. The bed, very familiar, was a queen, covered in white cotton sheets; on both sides a bedside table with its own lamp, and some scattered trinkets; the wardrobe was huge and old, the walls were mostly bare, save for a couple of shelves that held more books than they probably should. It was incredibly depressing, but endearably Robby.

The man himself sat down on the bed and looked up at Dennis, a questioning expression in his face. The younger man smiled reassuringly, following the other’s lead and laying down on the other side of the bed. They settled under the covers, facing each other, eyes meeting in the dark. The wrinkles made apparent by Robby smiling never ceased to amaze Whitaker. He reached for the creases in question, fingers with feather-like gentleness. The touch made the other’s smile widen, making the crow’s feet even more prominent. Dennis couldn't resist, he urged himself forward, kissing the older man’s lips. When they parted, he didn’t go far, instead tucking his head under Robby's chin, his arms wrapping around his torso and their legs tangling. He felt Robby sigh contentedly, as he hugged him back. In the lull of their affection, it was easy for Dennis to fall asleep.

When he woke up, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting a dream-like glow to the room. They had shifted from their initial position since last night, Robby was now laying on his back, Dennis half draped on top of him, an arm wrapped loosely around his middle. He wondered if he was actually allowed this moment. If it was any other morning, he would leave and things would go on as usual. But he was not so sure anymore. All of their kisses and touches from last night were wrapped in a kind of warmth and affection that he had previously denied himself to see. It felt like something real. Like love.

Dennis started moving slowly away from Robby. Maybe he should leave and act like nothing had changed between them. Or maybe he should stay and embrace the change that in fact happened. He sat up, looking at the other man’s face and considering. What would Robby want him to do? Would he be mortified after everything that he had shared? Would he want to cut off their whole arrangement? Or, and Dennis could only hope this, would he want him to actually stay, to have breakfast together for once? Would he want them to drop the act of casual sex and assume their feelings? 

Whitaker’s questioning was cut short by Robby shifting. The older man let out what could only be described as a whine, his eyes closed, brows furrowed. He reached out, searching for a body that had untangled away from him. Dennis reached back before he could think about it, and as soon as Robby’s hand found his, his expression cleared, he pulled the hand to his face, kissing the inside of his wrist.

“Stay.” His voice was low, heavy with sleep and almost unintelligible. But Robby was asking Dennis to stay . So he did.

The next time Dennis woke up, the room was considerably brighter and, more alarmingly, the bed was empty. That was new. He got up and went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, trying not to think about the fact he would have to face Robby in the morning light, with his feelings on edge. 

He made his way to the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee hitting him as he reached the room. Robby had his back turned to him,. he was wearing the same clothes from the night before, feet bare on the floor, cooking something in a pan. Music traveled lightly though the air, some instrumental soft rock that sounded half familiar. Dennis was hit, once again, with the impression he was dreaming.

“Morning.” He said into the kitchen.

Robby glanced over his shoulder and smiled, “Good morning.” He turned back to the oven. “I’m making some scrambled eggs. Does that sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great. Take a seat, I’ll be done in a minute.”

Dennis nodded to himself, pulling out a chair and sitting down in front of the table. Now that he wasn’t dealing with the stress of his last shift, he allowed himself to appreciate  how nice Robby’s ass looked in those pants. Actually, how nice all of Robby looked in casual clothing, he didn’t usually get the chance to really admire the man with clothes on before.

A few moments later, Robby placed down the pan on the table, along with two plates,  mugs and cutlery. “Coffee?” He asked, pot in hand.

“Please.” 

Robby poured the coffee on both cups and sat down across from Dennis. For the first few minutes they ate in silence, sporadically sipping from their mugs. After a while, it all became too much for Whitaker, he searched himself for courage to actually speak up and get some clarification, but he wasn’t sure of what exactly he wanted to say.

 He had caught feelings for Robby. That had been inevitable from the start even if he had tried to convince himself that wasn’t the case. After the precious night, though, Dennis didn’t think he could keep pushing those feelings down. He didn’t want to just have sex with his boss, he wanted an actual relationship, he wanted moments like these, domestic and mundane and easy. He wanted it so much it ached, it was like Robby’s words from last night had broken the dam inside his chest, bringing to surface all the emotion he tried to suppress and hide. Dennis knew exactly what he wanted, and now, he had the impression Robby might want the same thing.

“Robby.” He started softly, uncertain. The older man looked up from his plate, and at the expression on Whitaker’s face, he lowered his fork, giving him his undivided attention. Dennis sighed. “I don’t think I can do casual anymore.”

The words hung in the air between them for a beat, Robby blinked, his slightly curious expression fell, being replaced by the most devastated look he had ever seen on the other man. He quickly schooled his face back into painful neutrality.

“Ok.” He said slowly, the words said as if memorised from a book. “I never intended for my feelings to get in the middle of our arrangement, but I understand if you feel uncomfortable about it. I just want to say that I’m sorry and that-”

“What?!” Dennis' brain struggled to keep up with what Robby was saying, it didn’t make any sense at all. “What are you talking about?”

The older man looked at him in hurt confusion. “What are you talking about? You said you don’t want to sleep with me anymore. Obviously because of all the bullshit I threw on you last night about how fucked up I was and how you helped me. I know it’s creepy and I’m really sorry for putting that on you, I just hope that we-”

“No, no, please stop talking.” Robby snapped his jaw shut. Dennis ran his hand over his face and hair. He had screwed this up so bad. He turned to Robby, looking as resigned as a man laying on the guillotine, and felt something inside of him melt. He got up and walked to the other man, taking his face in both hands and raising it gently, forcing him to make eye-contact. He flinched under Dennis’ touch, but followed the non verbal command.

“Robby. I’m so sorry. That’s not what I meant at all.” He paused.  “I said I can’t do casual anymore because I- I like you too much. I don't want to just have sex with you anymore. I want something real . I want everything you’re willing to give me. You didn't scare me away  last night. You made me realize I can no longer hide my feelings for you behind a casual relationship. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Robby just kept watching him, like he couldn’t make sense of the words he was hearing.

"Robby?”

The concerned edge in Dennis’ voice made the other man snap out of it. He quickly grabbed the hands on his face.

“Yes, yes .” He sounded almost incredulous. “Are you being serious?”

It was Whitaker’s turn to look at him unbelievingly. 

“Of course. Why would I lie about that?”

Robby rushed to explain himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just- I thought I’ve been pushing my luck since we started this  I-” He cut himself off, frowning. “Whitaker, you can't be serious about actually wanting to be in… a relationship. With me.”

“What?” Dennis felt lost again.

“I mean, look at you, Whitaker, you are so young, you deserve to be with someone who can keep up with you.” He looked pained saying that, like he didn't agree with his own words but felt obligated to say them.

“Robby, come on, we've been over this.” They had, Robby blamed himself a lot for going for someone as young as Dennis, especially with their power imbalance. It took some time to actually convince the man that Whitaker didn’t care about the age difference, but the work aspects of things had gotten easier after he started his other rotations and then his internship.  “We're both consenting adults, there's nothing wrong about it. Besides, I don't want ‘someone my age’. I want you. I want to try being with you. If that's something you'd want.”

Robby stared at him, unsure.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes .” Dennis leaned down to place a quick peck on his lips, “I really am.”

Robby’s mouth slowly curled into a smile so wide and bright Whitaker was afraid of being blinded. The corners of the man’s eyes wrinkled in happiness. Dennis could spend the rest of his life staring at him. Instead, he was pulled into a bruising kiss. It was almost too forceful, but he couldn't care less, he felt Robby’s smile pressing into him and couldn’t help but giggle softly.

“God, if you knew how long I’ve been wanting this. ”

Dennis wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck, gazing down at him looking positively ecstatic.

“Oh yeah? The sex wasn’t enough for you?”

A kiss.

“Never. I wanted that and everything else.”

Another kiss.

“Greed.” Dennis admonished, “That’s a sin.”

Robby laughed. “I really don’t care, Whitaker.”

One more kiss.

“You should call me Dennis, by the way. At least when we’re not in the hospital.”

Robby looked at him completely enthralled.

“Okay.”

One last kiss, this time deeper and more passionate and saccharine sweet. Dennis could get used to feeling this blissful. 

One month and two weeks after

Things changed after that. Dennis would spend more time over at Robby's place. Not just the random work nights anymore, but weekends and ‘coincidently’ matching day-offs too. It was getting increasingly difficult to evade Trinity’s questioning about his secret boyfriend that was stealing him away, but he and Robby had agreed they wouldn’t tell anyone in the hospital about them yet, as much as it pained them both. During their time together they would watch TV, read, talk and fuck and be so sickenly sweet Whitaker was honestly relieved no one was there to watch them.

In the Pitt, the situation shifted too. They had to find different ways to get in and out of the hospital together without being noticed, as well as figure out how to control themselves in front of the others. Robby tried his best to not show any favoritism, sometimes being a bit too harsh on Dennis (which he profusely apologized for when they were alone), but his casual guiding touches didn’t diminish at all. Their different positions occasionally got in  the way of things, but they made it work, having had plenty of time to get used to their work dynamic before they officially got together. 

On slower days or in between patients, they would find quiet moments to pull each other away to empty corridors and rooms and make out. It was exhilarating and highly risky and incredibly unprofessional, but they were too enamored to actually care about the consequences.

That was, until they came a little too close to getting caught. It had been a day with a series of particularly tricky cases that left Robby tense and restless. When things slowed down, Dennis went after him and sneaked them both into a vacant room, closing the curtains and turning to the other man.. He opened his arms and the attending immediately melted into them. It was a bit awkward with their height difference, but that didn’t really matter to them.. Whitaker kissed the side of the Robby’ss head and took deep breaths, hoping he would follow his lead. 

They spent a few more moments like that, until Robby carefully pulled away.

“Sorry.” He whispered, staring at the ground. 

“It 's okay.” Dennis pulled him in to be kissed, first on the mouth and then between his brows. Robby sighed happily. With him relaxed, it didn’t take long for the kisses to become more heated, open mouthed and frantic.

Then, the door opened. They flew away from each other as if electrocuted. Thankfully, Dana had been looking over her shoulder as she entered the room, and when she turned forward again, they were standing five innocent feet away from each other. The nurse raised an eyebrow.

“Robby.” She said cautiously, “Mrs. di Conti is awake.”

“Right. Of course, I’m gonna check on her.” Robby recomposed himself. “If you have any more questions, Whitaker, you can ask me after the shift.” He left the room quickly, without waiting for Dana.

“Of- of course. Thank you, Dr. Robby.”

The charge nurse turned to him and smiled sympathetically. “Come on now, honey. We need you out there.”

Dennis nodded and followed her out. Needless to say, they were much more careful after that episode.

Two months and a week after

Dennis would be turning 27 soon. He had to work that day, so his current plans for his birthday was to go out with Trinity after their shift and get so drunk he would forget their fanciful, irrealistic and self-indulgent plans of going on a trip so he could finally go to the beach.. His roommate had been shocked when he revealed he had never seen the sea, and immediately started regalling him with tales of family vacations she had taken, along with promises to take him to New Jersey once they both had the time.

For now, however, they had to content themselves with the expensive drinks of Pittsburgh’s bars. Normally, Samira, Mel and, if they were lucky, Victoria, would join them too, but none of them were free that day, which meant Trinity would be his only company for the night. Which Dennis was not complaining about, Santos was easily the best friend he had ever had and every night out with her was guaranteed to be a good time. But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about the prospect of going to the beach with her.

But it was fine, birthdays had never been that big of a deal to him. Not in a depressing way; his family just didn’t have the habit of celebrating them ostentatiously. If it was someone’s birthday, they would receive the mandatory‘happy birthday’ wishes and get their favorite meal for dinner. The rest of the day was spent the same way as any other, however. After he left home, his birthdays went mostly unacknowledged, save for his indulgence in sweet treats. So really, Dennis was okay with spending the day working.

He was halfway through a shift on the week of his birthday when Robby approached him, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Whitaker agreed, not even attempting to hide his suspiciousness as he followed the attending to an empty corridor

“Ok, what 's up? You’re scaring me.”

Robby’s smile only grew. He put his hands on his jacket’s pocket and rocked in place. 

“I know you said you didn’t want a gift for your birthday. But.” He raised one hand to stop Dennis from speaking, “I pulled some strings, called in a few favors, and I managed to get you and Trinity two days off for your birthday.” Whitaker felt himself gape at the other man. “I know you two really wanted to go to the beach so, as your boyfriend, and your boss, I don’t see why I shouldn’t try to make it happen.”

Dennis knew he looked stupid, incredulously staring at Robby, but he couldn’t fathom that the man had really gone through all that trouble just so he could fulfil an almost silly fantasy. It was also the first time he referred to him as his boyfriend, which Whitaker knew he would freak out about later.

“Are you serious?” Whitaker managed to choke out. 

Robby’s smile softened. “Of course, Dennis. Anything for you.”

The younger man beamed, pulling Robby for a bruising kiss.

“ Thank you. ”

Two months and two weeks after

“I really don’t know what to tell her anymore. I mean, when we were on our way to New Jersey ,and thank you again for making that possible, she asked me if everything was going well with my ‘relationship’. She did the air quotes, ok? I said everything was fine and that she didn’t have to worry about me. And she scoffed! She said she would only believe me the day she got to judge my ‘mysterious boyfriend’herself, because she ‘didn’t trust my judgement’ and that I was probably ‘blinded by mediocre sex’ anyway. Again, she was the one doing the quotes. I made sure to tell her the sex was actually great, don’t worry. But the point is , I can’t keep doing this to her anymore, you know? She’s my best friend and the only reason I was eating actual food when I was still doing my rotation. I feel bad hiding something like this from her, especially when she has such a hard time thrusting other people. And she trusts me, I know she does! And I trust her too, obviously, and I see why it could be a bad idea to tell her but still… I don't know, it feels like betraying her, in a way. And it’s clearly bothering her too. Do you have any idea how hard it is for her to actually let it show that she’s upset? Because she is upset about it! I can tell! Anyways, she mentioned it again when we were by the sea. She asked if I was happy, Robby. Like that was all that she actually cared about. I’ve been hiding a relationship from her for months now, and she only wanted to know if I am happy. And I said I am. But I can’t really tell her how happy I am without talking about you . Robby? Are you even listening to me right now?”

They had gone grocery shopping and were now at Robby’s place. Dennis was sitting on the kitchen counter, ranting about Trinity and the consequences of their secret relationship while the other man put their purchases away. Or at least he had been doing that, until he just stopped to watch Dennis talk with a stupidly bewitched expression. At Whitaker’s irritated tone, he shook himself away from his reveries.

“I am! I am, I swear.” He bit his lip, suppressing a smile. “I just love it when your accent slips.”

“My- What?”

“Your accent, yeah. When you get… carried away, it slips, you start pronouncing a lot of R’s and everything.”

“Oh my God.” Dennis covered his face. “What do you mean ‘carried away’?”

“Oh, you know.” Robby shrugged. “When you’re really happy, or angry, or anxious. During sex too, sometimes.’

“What!?” He was not exactly ashamed of his accent, not anymore. But he knew some people found it funny, especially because of how rural it was, and knowing it flared up during sex was a bit mortifying.

“No, don’t be like that.” Robby pulled Dennis’ hands from his face and chuckled. “I think it’s cute.”

Whitaker snorted. “Cute?”

“Of course. It 's adorable.” He said, placing a kiss on the tip of Dennis’ nose and then one on his lips. “And I was listening, ok?” He hesitated. “Maybe you should tell Santos.”

The younger man pushed the other away so he could look him in the eyes, doubtful.

“Robby.” He huffed, disbelieving. “Are you sure? She’ll probably want to kill you. You know that, right?”

He hummed, considering. “I’m willing to make this sacrifice. For you.”

Three months and a week after

Dennis has been doing the night shift for a while now. It was out of necessity, they were a little understaffed on the nights since one of the doctors fractured a foot, and Whitaker was the unlucky chosen one. It wasn't the worst thing ever, but it had been a few days since his last actual conversation with Trinity, so telling her about him and Robby was still a terrifying task yet to be tackled. 

On this specific day, he had left the hospital early, getting home before Trinity could leave for her shift in the early morning. He took a shower, put on his boxers and the first shirt he could find and met her in the kitchen. They shared their food (breakfast for her and dinner for him) with barely any chatter, Dennis too tired from working and Trinity still in her morning bad mood. He enjoyed their moments of silence nonetheless, especially after so many days of barely seeing each other.

They finished their respective meals at the same time, and Trinity got up first. “I'll take the plates away. Go get some sleep, Huckleberry, you look half dead.”

“Thank you.” Dennis breathed gratefully, getting up and heading for his bedroom without having to be told twice. As he turned his back to her, though, he heard Trinity let out a confused sound.

“Dennis…” She said slowly. “Why does your shirt say ‘Robinavitch’ on it?”

Whitaker stopped dead on his tracks.

He was wearing Robby’s shirt. 

He was wearing the jersey Robby had given to him after they started dating. 

With his last name printed in gigantic letters in the back. 

He turned, very, very slowly, just in time to see Trinity’s expression shift from puzzlement, to realization and then through all five stages of grief so fast he felt whiplash just from looking at her. She then settled on the most horrified look anyone had ever made.

“Trin-”

“No.”

“Trinity-”

“No.”

“Trinity, please-”
“No. no no no no no. No! Absolutely not! What the actual fuck!?” She was shouting now, voice high with aversion.

Dennis winced. “Ok, maybe you should sit down for this.” He raised his hands in an attempt of appeasement. To his surprise, she actually listened, throwing herself back into the chair and staring at him dumbfoundedly.

He took a deep breath. And then another. And another one for good measure. “I-” He stopped. “How the fuck do I do this?” Trinity kept on staring, her eyes… twitching?

 One more deep breath. “I want to start by saying this wasn’t how I planned on telling you but… Well.” He shrugged helplessly. “ Me-and-Robby-are-dating.” 

Trinity blinked. A beat passed. She burst out laughing, almost hysterically, throwing her head back and slapping the table.

“Oh, Huckleberry, you’re really funny. Because it sounded to me like you just said that you are dating Robby. You know, our boss . Implying that you are, you know, wearing his shirt.” She wiped a tear from her eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was from laughter.

“That is… exactly what I’m saying.”

Her laughter subsided slowly.  She looked at him dead in the eyes. There were no more signs of laughter in her expression.

“Dennis. No. Please. You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I’m… sorry?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Like I said, I didn’t plan to tell you like this, but I didn’t notice I put on his shirt so…”

Her face was completely blank.

“You… are dating Robby. Actually dating?’

“Yes.”

“Okay.” 

A moment of silence.

“‘Okay’? Just like that?”

“Shut up. I need a second.”

Dennis waited, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Did he force you into this?” Trinity asked all of a sudden.

“No! No, Trin, he would never do that.” Dennis spluttered, incredulous.

“Fine.” She didn’t seem totally convinced. “When did this start?”

“A few months ago. Officially”

“Was he your ‘secret boyfriend’ all this time?”

“Yes.” He winced. “I’m sorry I never told you.’
It was her turn to take a deep breath.

“Okay. Yeah, ok. I need some time to process this. More importantly, I need to get to work.  But don’t think this is over.” She got up and shoved her finger accusingly in his chest. “We haven’t even started with this conversation, you hear me, Huckleberry? And you owe me a really big, really fat one after this whole bullshit. Capish?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

A few hours later, he received a text from Robby:

‘Good morning, Den. I hope you're getting some rest.'

'But I have to ask.Did you tell Santos about us?”

Dennis made a face.

‘Yeah'

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in advance. It was'

‘Spontaneous'

‘I’ll explain it later’

‘How did you know?’

The response came half an hour later.

‘It' s okay.’

‘I assumed you did. She’s been glaring daggers at me the whole morning.'

'I think she might actually try to murder me.’

Dennis laughed. Robby would survive. Probably. He didn’t feel so bad now, without the weight of keeping a secret from Trinity. They would work it out.

Four Months after

“What is going on here!?”

“46-year-old patient is experiencing intense convulsions!”

“Why!? She came in for rheumatoid arthritis.”

“She was given methotrexate for the pain and-”

“The convulsions could be an anaphylactic reaction to the medication!”

“The chances of methotrexate causing anaphylaxis are already low, with convulsions like these on top of that? I’m not sure.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Ok, ok! She needs oxygen and epinephrine, come on!”

Whitaker had the epinephrine injection in hand, ready to administer it to the patient's anterolateral thigh. Except Robby was on his way. In situations like this, politeness was damned, he needed to do his job. So, with no hesitation whatsoever, Dennis forcefully shoved his attending out of the way. Robby stumbled away. And whimpered. 

The younger doctor efficiently injected the adrenaline necessary to stop the anaphylaxis and stepped back. The convulsions were already diminishing due to the extra oxygen being provided, and in a couple of minutes, the patient was stable again. Most of the staff filtered out of the room, including Dennis, who took advantage of the movement to pull Robby away to a deserted room.

“What. Was that?” He asked, stunned.

Robby stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights, turning a shade of red that would probably break some sort of world record. He let out a high pitched noise.

“You whimpered ! In front of everyone!” The absurdity of the situation was catching up to Dennis, his voice wavered with repressed laughter.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be that strong.” Robby looked absolutely dismayed.

The younger man was full on laughing now. “You were into it! Robby, you like to be manhandled!”

“Apparently!” He exclaimed incredulously. 

“That 's fine. I can work with that.” Whitaker levelled him with a calculating look. “I can probably pick you up, if you’d be into that.”

Robby’s mortification instantly gave way to skepticism.

“There’s no way you can pick me up.”

“Sure I can.” Dennis crossed his arms defiantly.

“I’m quite literally double your size.” Robby gestured indignantly.

“And I grew up on a farm, I can do some heavy lifting.”

“Dennis, you haven’t stepped foot on a farm in 9 years.”

“You can leave the farm but the farm won’t ever leave you.” He said, in the most obnoxiously stereotypical mid western accent he could muster.

Robby laughed unabashedly, like it was being pulled out of him, his eyes creasing in amusement.. Dennis could probably live on that sight alone for forever.

“Laugh all you want, old man, but when I bridal carry you to the bed tonight you’re going to regret ever doubting me.” He pulled Robby for a kiss, his delight irresistible.

“Sure, sweetheart.” The older man chuckled, petting his hair condescendingly. “Whatever you say.”

That night, Robby did regret ever doubting Dennis. He was indeed a lot stronger than he looked.

Five months after

Robby had the weekend off. It was a rare occurrence, so they were trying to make the best of it despite the fact Dennis had to work on Sunday. And by “the best out if” they meant ordering food from their favorite Indian restaurant and watching old TLC reality shows together. It was the perfect Saturday night plan for a couple of exhausted ER doctors. 

The food was set to arrive in less than five minutes. The season 5 finale of Cupcake Wars was ready to be played on the TV. Robby was in the kitchen getting them both a glass of wine. And Dennis was texting Trinity. More specifically, he was trying to defend their idea of a nice date from her criticism, and failing. But that didn’t really matter, the important part was that Trinity was ok enough with their relationship now to casually tease Dennis about it. The normalcy filled him with immense relief.

The doorbell rang and Dennis got up, rushing to the entrance. The delivery guy always made a point of delivering directly to Robby’s door since his apartment was on the ground floor. He opened the door, a greeting on the tip of his tongue. And was promptly shut up by the appearance of Dr. Jack Abot in front of him. Dennis stared at him stupidly, rendered speechless. The other man gaped back at him, bewildered and clearly just as unsure on how to proceed as Dennis. The silence stretched between them.

From the kitchen, came Robby’s voice. “What’s taking so long there, baby?”

The sound of his steps approaching the living room stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Abbot. Dennis could swear he would have been able to hear a pin falling to the ground at that moment.

“Jack.” Robby stated.

“Michael.” Abbot answered flatly.

The two men kept on intently staring at each other. An entire conversation seemed to take place in the silence. Dennis felt the anxious need to do something.

“Why… don’t you come in, Dr. Abbot?” He proposed hesitantly.

The man looked at him, as if suddenly remembering he was there. He nodded hastily. Getting into the apartment and closing the door behind him, clearly familiar with the space. The silence reigned again, Abbot was clearly at a loss for words, and Robby watched him searchingly. Dennis felt like he was watching a tennis match, glancing from one man to the other.

“An intern? Seriously, Michael!?” Abbot finally spat out, sounding more disbelieving than genuinely irritated.

“That’s not fair and you know it, Jack.” Robby was quick to answer, stung. 

“Come on, man, the boy is half your age and your subordinate, you can’t blame me for questioning it.” the man insisted, shaking his head in bafflement.

Robby opened his mouth to answer, but the fight seemed to leave him as his shoulder slumped defeatedly. “I know, ok? I do, but he-”

“Um, I’m still right here, you know.” Dennis quickly interrupted, he was not going to let the two men have this conversation while ignoring his presence like he was a child. They both mumbled their apologies, chastised by his intermission.

Abbot sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit… surprised.” 

“Why did you even come here?” Robby asked, once again defensive.

“I was hoping for company and a couple of beers, but you clearly already have plans.” He turned to Dennis. “I’m sorry for crashing your… date, by the way.”

Whitaker let out a shaky laugh, “It’s fine.”

A beat passed before Abbot jumped to his next question, his rush completely crashing the façade of casualness. “How serious are you guys, anyways?”

“It’s serious, Jack. We’re dating.” Robby answered with a frustrated sigh, expression still tense.

“Ok, then.” Abbot raised his hands appeasingly.  “Are you both happy?” He asked with raised eyebrows, glancing between them assessingly. 

Dennis couldn't help but remember how Trinity had asked him the exact same thing. He smiled and turned to Robby, who slowly returned the smile, holding his hand out for his. They turned back to Jack.

“Yeah, we really are.”

Five months and three months after

Dennis was no stranger to the gossip that took place in the corridors of the Pitt. It was almost a rite of passage in the department, to become the subject of one of the rumors that turned everyone’s shift just a little less miserable. He couldn’t even judge his coworkers for engaging in it, as he has had his fair share of blame for spreading the fire. Multiple fires. And spread it did, more efficiently than a disease, running through the ER hand in hand with the occasional betting pool. The current one, as far as he was aware, was in regards to Mel and Langdon’s obvious, yet speculative relationship. It had been going on for a couple of months now, following the resident's turbulent return.

Whitaker had been the target of minor suppositions himself, previously. The first time he walked into the ER side by side with Santos, he swore he could feel every single head turning their way, the whispers quick to start as well. Of course, Trinity had cut the insinuations quickly and efficiently so, since then, he had heard only a remark or two about his life. And he much preferred things that way, favoring observing any ongoing drama from the sidelines. 

So when, on a random Wednesday, Dennis felt eyes boring into him as he greeted Robby, and as he whirled around to find Princess and Perlah quickly averting their gazes from him, whispering and giggling quietly between themselves, he knew that could not be anything good.

Later that same week, Whitaker was discussing a patient’s case with Robby, a sweet, healthy 12-year-old girl that had come in complaining about chest pain accompanied by concerning heart palpitations. The results of her exams were yet to come back, but his theories were not very optimistic. Robby was advising him on how to communicate with the apprehensive parents, a hand casually resting on his arm.

When the attending left to supervise another operation, Dennis turned around, coming face to face with Antoine, who winced sympathetically.

“Ouch, dude.”

Whitaker staggered. “Um. What?”

The man patted him in the shoulder, comfortingly. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Dr. Whitaker. You can’t win them all, sometimes you gotta take the L.”

“What!?” He squeaked in confusion, but Antoine was already gone. 

Dennis shook off his puzzlement and focused on his job, he could try to figure out what the hell that was later.

He didn’t make it to a week before finding out exactly what was going on. He had just performed a perfect femur reduction and Robby was congratulating him when it happened.

“Good job, Whitaker.” His voice was full of praise, hand patting his back warmly,  smile even warmer, crinkling the corner of his eyes and making his crow’s feet show up. Dennis just knew he looked completely infatuated.

Once the attending left, Whitaker heard snickering coming from his left. He turned to find Kim and Donnie barely holding back their laughter. As he set his eyes on them, both nurses cracked up, apologies quickly following their laughter.

“We’re really sorry, Whitaker.” Kim said, still trying to control her giggles.

“Yeah, man, it’s just kind of funny. How obvious you are.” Donnie continued, trying to recompose himself.

Dennis was lost. “Obvious… about what, exactly?”

The pair exchanged disbelieving looks.

“Your crush on Robby.” Kim answered, deadpan.

“My what!?” Dennis could feel himself blushing.

Donnie chuckled. “It’s ok, Whitaker, don’t worry about it.” He said reassuringly. “No one’s judging you. I mean, Dr. Robby is fine, man. Everyone’s been there. You’ll get over it.”

“What!?” Dennis was half convinced he was having a stroke.

“Oh, Whitaker, it really is fine.” Kim kindly petted his shoulder, sensing his panic. “He’s always oblivious to it. Besides, it’s just a harmless crush.”

Donnie nodded. “We’re sorry for bringing it up, dude.”

“It’s all right.” Dennis said after a while, weakly, mortified. “I’m just going to go back to work now.” 

As he walked away from the nurses, Whiteker spotted Abbot, locking eyes with the man as he tried, and failed , to hide the fact he had heard the whole conversation. Dennis glared at him. The older doctor only smirked and took a sip of his coffee. What a bitch.

Six months and two weeks after

It was very hard to get Dennis drunk. His constitution was built on drinking his father’s cheap scotch and chugging down even cheaper beer along with his brothers since he was ten. But it was not impossible. And tonight, he was considerably tipsy, even if he refused to admit it.

 It had been a hellish shift from start to finish, physically and emotionally exhausting, so when, as soon as he was done showering, Trinity offered him a glass of some alcoholic drink he couldn’t bother to identify, he was happy to accept. With their empty stomachs, the drink hit hard, and soon they were both sprawled over the couch. Their heads rested on opposite armrests, Dennis’ feet crossed over the couch back while Trinity’s legs were thrown over his torso. Some random reality show playing on the TV filled the silence and cast a soft light over them.

“I miss you.” Trinity said on a whim, words stumbling out of her mouth.

Dennis frowned. “I’m right here.”

“Yeah. Now. But you’re never home anymore, you’re always at Robby’s.” She said,  like a child mourning a friend slowly drifting away. “Shit. I sound like a jerk. It’s fine, you have a boyfriend, you spend time with him, whatever. I just…  I don’t know.’

Dennis paused, considering her words. He had been spending an awful amount of time with Robby recently. It had been a while since they had a moment like this in their friendship. A wave of guilt hit him.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this, Trin.”

“No,” She stretched the word, covering her face with both hands in frustration, “Forget I said anything, ok? I can’t handle your sad face.”

“My sad face?”

“Yeah, the one that makes you look like a Victorian child whose parents died from the Black Death.” She groaned. “I don't want you to feel bad, it’s not your problem if I got too attached.”

“What? Trinity, no.” He was having a hard time following her words. “The bubonic plague wasn’t even close to the Victorian Era!” He shook his head. “No. What I’m trying to say is. I am sorry. I have been neg- neglac- neglecting  our friendship. I don’t want to do that. You are my best friend. And very important to me. I don’t want you to feel like I’m… trading you for Robby.”

“Oh, Huckleberry, don’t tell me you’re an emotional drunk.” She teased, wiggling her feet.

“What are you talking about? I’m not even drunk!”  He squealed, offended, “And you started it anyways.”

“Sure.”

“But I’m being serious. I’m sorry, I’m gonna start ditching Robby for you, or whatever. Because, you know, I kinda love you, Trin.”

“Oh my God!” She sat up. “You’re so drunk.”

They both went silent for a few moments. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Trinity sighed, resignedly. “Fine. I kinda love you too, Dennis.”

He smiled smugly at her. And then she shoved her feet in his face.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating our fucking boss, for the record.” She said, trying to hide the fact she was also smiling.

“I know.” He replied dreamily. “Sometimes I can’t believe my own luck.”

“Ew. You’re like… disgus- disgustilyi- grossly smitten. No wonder half of the people in that hospital think you have a crush on him.”

Dennis groaned. “Please don’t remind me of that. Antoine told me that I ‘had to take the L’ with Robby. What the actual fuck.”

She burst out laughing. “I honestly don’t know how no one has figured it out yet. It’s not like Robby is particularly good at hiding the fact he’s head over heels for you, either.”

He perked up. “Really?”

Trinity rolled her eyes. “ Really . I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Because. You know. And every time you get close to him, he sort of… melts. It's really gross. But also weirdly endearing that he’s so… gone for you.”

“Oh.” A surprised smile grew on Dennis’ face. “That’s nice.”

She snorted. “Right.” The word dripped with sarcasm. “I really am happy for you, though. Even if it’s a little messed up that you’re fucking our boss.”

He rolled his eyes back at her, but couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks, Trin.” 

“Yeah.” She pointed her finger at him for emphasis, eyebrows raised. ”And if he ever dares to hurt you, I know a ditch where we can throw his dead body.”

Dennis laughed. He was so damn grateful to have a friend like her.

Seven months after

Dennis hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Really. But it was not his fault if Robby and Dana had decided to have that conversation in his unconscious patient’s room. He had intended to do a quick check up on Mr. Blackwood, but as the doctor approached the room, he heard familiar voices coming from within. He stopped.

“-stop doing that. Now.” It was Dana, she was using her ‘no-nonsense’ voice. Whitaker winced. He pitied whoever was being scolded. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was Robby. He sounded genuinely clueless, if slightly impatient.

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you,” She snapped. “I know you can be pretty oblivious about these sorts of things, so I’m going to spell it out for you. Whitaker has this crazy case of puppy love for you. And I’m only saying this because you need to stop leading him on . I see the way you’re always touching the boy, Robby. And I’m pretty sure it’s giving him the wrong ideas. You can’t keep this up, or it will only end in heartbreak. That kid does not deserve that.”

Robby’s shocked silence rang as loud as a scream. When he finally found the words, they were halting and cautious.

“Dana. I am not leading him on. Or giving him the ‘wrong idea’.” A deep breath. “In fact, he is getting exactly the right idea. Because we’re dating.”

The silence was somehow even louder than before.

“What.” Dana asked, low and flat.

“Dennis and I. We’ve been together for… hell, seven months now.”

“Toge- Are you fucking serious? Robby, you better be joking right now.”

“I’m really not.” He said plainly.

“Oh my fucking God! Robby! He is your intern! He is twenty seven!”

“I know, okay? I know. Save your breath, Jack has already given me the whole speech.” He took another deep breath. “Look, Dana, you’ve been telling me I should go to therapy for years now. And I did, and I’m getting better, and, yes, I am doing this for myself, but is it so bad that I have some exterior motivation? I’m taking care of myself because I want to be good  for him, I’m-  terrified of fucking things up with Dennis. I want to make him as happy as he makes me. And he makes me so damn happy, Dana. I know it’s not the professional or- or maybe not even the right thing to do, but I want it so bad. I can’t deny myself something that makes me as happy as he does. Not anymore.” 

It was Dana’s turn to be silent.

“Oh, Robby.” She let out an exhale. Dennis couldn’t see them but by the rustle of fabric, he would guess she was pulling Robby into a hug. “I just want what’s best for you. For both of you. And I trust you. So, please, prove me right.”

“Ok.”

Dennis had heard enough, he could check on Mr. Blackwood in a few minutes.

Seven months and three weeks after

Robby had a weird obsession with Brazilian music. He particularly liked the romantic ones from the seventies and eighties, going as far as lengthy ranting to Dennis about all the different genres and their historical contexts.. He found it all terribly endearing. The older man didn’t actually speak the language, but tonight,  as one of his favorite songs played softly in the kitchen, he tried to follow the lyrics and pull Dennis in a dance. The younger man laughed and refused, focusing on making their dinner, stirring the sauce for the homemade pasta they had made together earlier.

As another song came to an end, Robby hugged Dennis from behind, kissing the crown of his hair and resting his head on top of his. He sighed contentedly.

“I’ve been hearing some interesting things in the hospital.” Robby started, his smirk audible.

“I thought you hated gossip in the workplace.” Dennis said immediately. He knew exactly where this was going.

The other hummed. “I have to. Otherwise we would never get anything done. But this one was particularly good.”

Whitaker turned off the stove and turned in Robby’s arms to face him. “What have you heard?” He asked, unimpressed.

Robby’s shit eating grin only grew. “I heard that you ” He tightened his hold on Dennis’ waist momentarily, “have a crush on me. ”

The younger man rolled his eyes violently, trying to disentangle himself from the other’s embrace. Robby laughed to his face, delighted at his reaction, but holding him still. 

“Don’t be like that, baby, I’m flattered, really.” He sweetly kissed Dennis’ cheek. “Have they been giving you a hard time for it?”

Whitaker jokingly pushed him away, “Not really, I think they mostly feel sorry for me. But I’ve been told I’ll get over it, so.” He shrugged.

Robby scrunched his nose in disapproval, “Yeah, no, let’s hope not.”

Dennis laughed, cradling the other’s face and kissing him gently on the lips. As soon as Robby smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkled, and the younger man couldn’t help but place a kiss on both of them.

“What is it with you and my wrinkles?” He asked, curiously.

“Hm?” Dennis asked distractedly, admiring his boyfriend’s expression.

“You’re always kissing my smile lines.” 

“They’re lovely.”

“They make me old.”

He frowned. “Don’t say that. They’re…” He searched for the right words. “Physical proof of your happiness.”

Robby blinked, taken aback. “So you like them.”

Dennis kissed him again, this time slower, deeper. “I adore them.”

Eight months and a week after

There were still bad days, obviously. Those never fully stop, not really. They just become far and few between the good ones. Dennis has had plenty of bad days since he and Robby became official. Days when he felt so homesick it was a physical sensation; days he would look at himself in the mirror and be scared of the change he saw; days he convinced himself he didn’t deserve any of this happiness; days in which the urge to pray was overwhelming, pray for his salvation and absolution of his sins and for God to punish him for being the way he was. But it always passed, washed away like the waves did to the shore in that New Jersey beach he went with Trinity. 

So Dennis allowed himself to feel it all, knowing it was the only way to get through the bad days, accepting he didn’t have to be fine all the time, and, maybe most importantly, asking for help from the people he knew loved him.

Robby, however, had a harder time seeking out help. He would pretend he was fine, bottle it all up, until it was too much for him to stand, and he would crumble under the weight of everything he tried to ignore. He was getting better, but habits like this are hard to break. 

His breakdowns were not always like the one that happened during Pittfest, sometimes he would just shut down as they got home, becoming unnaturally quiet and distracted until Dennis dragged him into the bed and held him until he fell asleep. Other times, he would break into silent tears that streamed down his face like a river and turned his lips salty to the taste. Occasionally, though, he would break like he did in the pediatric room on that fateful day. And this was one of those times.

It was a Thursday, which had become sacred Trinity&Dennis night, however, she had a date that particular night that had already been postponed one too many times. So he was left to search for Robby so they could head home to his apartment. Their shift had ended about twenty minutes ago and the attending was nowhere to be found. With no more options, Whitaker approached Dana, who was still debriefing the night shift nurses about their day, feeling like a stray dog with its tail between its legs, scared despite having done nothing wrong.

He cleared his throat to get the charge nurse’s attention, and she turned sharply, surprised to see him. “Whitaker, what are you still doing here?”

He shifted from one foot to the other.

“I’m looking for Robby. I’ve searched everywhere by now, so I just wanted to know if you’ve seen him.” It was almost a whisper, so the others wouldn’t hear his words.

Dana inspected him, knowingly, but with a tinge of concern. “Have you checked the roof?”

“The roof?” Dennis frowned.

“Yeah, Robby goes there sometimes to… reflect.” He nodded, and her face softened. “Be careful, okay?”

He wasn’t sure if she was telling him to be careful with Robby or with himself. Regardless, he nodded again and thanked her for the help. As he climbed the stairs to the roof, Dennis worriedly wondered what could have made Robby go up there that day; the attending had been fine at the start of the shift, but Whitaker knew better than anyone how triggering a day in the ER could be. As he reached the top and pushed the door open, a light breeze hit his face, carrying the sounds of the city below him. Robby was standing on the other side of the rail, leaning his back against it and staring into the movement of the street.

“Hi.” He said softly. Robby whipped around, relaxing slightly as he saw it was only Dennis

“Hello.” His voice was ragged, clearly exhausted. He was crying.

The younger man approached slowly, gripping the rail. “Are you ok?”

“No.” Robby let out a humorless laugh. “No, I don’t think I am.”

“That 's fine.” He replied softly, after a moment. “Do you want to come back to this side?” It came out pleading. Dennis didn’t think Robby would actually jump, but wanting the other man as far away from danger as possible was instinctual to him.

The attending nodded, bending down and crossing the railing. He gripped Dennis’ extended arm to steady himself, much like they had done during Pittfest. This time, though, Robby didn’t push him away, instead, he pulled the younger man close, wrapping his arms around him and lowering his head to hide his face on the other’s neck. Dennis hugged him back as Robby started sobbing, the strength of it making his whole body tremble. He whispered sweet nothings into the older man's hair, rocking him from side to side gently. It pained him greatly to see his boyfriend like this, but he couldn’t help but feel glad he was there to support him now.

After a few minutes, Robby’s cries subsided, he leaned away from Dennis, trying in vain to wipe the tears away.

“I’m sorry.” He sounded wrecked. Dennis’ chest tightened.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, love.” He pressed a kiss to Robby’s cheek. “Let’s get you home.”

They went down the stairs in silence, following one of the many discreet paths they had been using to leave together without being noticed. Once outside, Dennis grabbed Robby’s hand and only let go when they reached the car. In wordless agreement, Whitaker was the one to drive them to the older man’s place, glancing over to his side every few seconds. 

As soon as they got into the apartment, Dennis led a mostly unresponsive Robby into the bathroom, taking off both their clothes and getting them into the shower. There was nothing sexual about the way the younger man methodically washed the other’s body as he stared blankly forward, eyes glazed. To say Whitaker was concerned would be the understatement of the century, Robby had never been so catatonic before, and it was making him sick with worry.

When they were both suitably cleaned, Dennis grabbed a new set of clothes for both of them, helping Robby get dressed before pushing him gently into the bed. They laid facing each other, but Dennis soon closed the gap between them, pressing Robby’s face against his chest, a hand drawing soothing circles on his back.

“I need you to talk to me, love.” Dennis whispered softly, desperately.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Robby’s broken confession came after a beat of silence. His voice choked with tears once again.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re allowed to feel the bad things too, Robby.”

“I don’t want to burden you with my mess.”

“You’re not a burden. Not to me.” 

Robby shook his head, and Dennis sighed.

“One day I’m going to convince you that I want every single part of you, even the bits you think are not worth it.”  He pulled him even closer. “You don’t have to go through any of this alone, Robby. I’m right here. You always take care of me when I have a bad day. Let me take care of you too.”

The silence stretched. 

“Okay.” Robby whispered, impossibly soft.

 Dennis kissed his forehead. He started humming. He didn’t know the words, nor the name of the song, but he knew the melody by heart. It was of Robby’s favourites, a Brazilian song he always  insisted on slow dancing to, whispering the lyrics to Dennis in broken Portuguese. In the quiet of the room, the tune filled the air with its comforting lull. Eventually, Robby relaxed, falling asleep in his boyfriend’s arms.

Nine months after

Dennis woke up to the sunlight hitting his eyes. It was early in the morning but the light already seeped through Robby’s thin curtains. The man was sleeping beside Dennis, lying on his stomach, blankets draped over his naked back. Whitaker stretched and turned sideways, propping himself on his elbow and resting his head on his hand. In the soft sunlit room, he admired his boyfriend’s figure. 

Robby was a large man, everyone could see that, but the softness that graced him now was only for Dennis to see. His expression was one of complete peace, a work of art that could have been painted only by the most talented impressionist. His back was adorned by scattered freckles and stretch marks that seemed to glow in the gentle brightness of the room. The shape of his body was akin to those of marble statues displayed in museums, but made undeniably human by the healthy amount of fat around his belly. The rise and fall of each breath Robby took evoked in Dennis the same serenity as the sight of wind hitting the tall grass in his best childhood memories. 

He couldn’t help but look back to everything he had been through, from his days working on the farm to those terrifying months when he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to find a place to call home again. Dennis had worked hard all his life, to make his parents accept him, to prove to everyone he could be a doctor, to carve a place for himself in the PTMC. He sacrificed a lot in the process, parts of himself he may not be able to replace ever again. 

But on days like this, he could say that it had been worth it. He had a man he loved and that he knew loved him back; he had friends that felt more like family than the one he had to leave behind; he had the job he had dreamed about when the only roof above his head was the starless sky; he had the freedom to be himself and the fortune to be treasured for it. He had a home now. In the Pitt. With Trinity. With Robby.

“Hello.” Robby’s voice came out soft and muddled with sleep.

Dennis felt a wave of affection swell in his chest. 

“I love you.” 

Robby blinked. And then broke into a smile so wide Whitaker was half afraid it was going to split his face in half. The older man buried his face in the pillow, growing red, and giggling. Dennis was enraptured. Robby’s giddy laugh made his whole body shake, and Whitaker couldn’t help but laugh along with him. He was then nearly tackled back on the bed, Robby half on top of him, kissing him fiercely on the lips, the shape of his smile pressing against his.

“I love you too, sweetheart. So much.”

Dennis beamed up at him, knowing it was the most absolute truth.

Ten months after

Dennis Whitaker and Michael Robinavitch have been dating for ten months now. And somewhat miraculously, only three of their coworkers knew about their relationship. To think things would stay like that was foolish, to say the least, and absolutely fucking stupid, to be realistic. So, really, they should have seen it coming.

It was a slow day, in the way shifts in the Pitt very, very rarely were. As a result, the breakroom was unusually packed with people . Dennis sat by one of the tables, trying to help Mel mediate a proper conversation with Trinity and Langdon over lunch. Donnie and Mateo were chatting over the coffee machine and Princess and Perlah were taking turns updating Samira and Collins on the latest PTMC major gossip topic. 

Robby came in, taking one look at the number of people not actively working and mumbled something about proper work conduct. He took an energy drink from the fridge and, on his way out, passed by Dennis, lowering himself to place a kiss on the top of his head.

“Enjoy your lunch, sweetheart..”

He left. 

Everybody freezed.

A mug was dropped. 

The sound of it breaking reverberated through the room.

Still, nobody moved. 

Dennis slowly put down his sandwich.

He glanced at Trinity, her mouth hanging open and her face mirroring his horror.

Robby walked back in, face as white as the hospital’s walls. He opened his mouth to speak, realizing what he had done.

“Please, don’t.” Dennis cut him off without taking his eyes off the table.

Robby’s jaw snapped shut.

An eternity passed before anyone had the courage to speak.

“ What.” It was Langdon, slow, flabbergasted, petrified.

The single word seemed to break the dam. Chaos erupted as everyone started shouting their indignation and astonishment at the same time.

“What the actual fuck?”

“I fucking told you so!”

“Since when?”

“Robby likes men!?”

“Oh my God, this makes so much sense!”

“I just lost so much money.”

“How did we not know about this?”

“What the actual fuck!?”

Then Collins laughed, effectively shutting everyone up. She walked to Whitaker, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, like a man ready for the guillotine. 

“Good fucking luck.” She said with a laugh. It was meaningful. It felt like a blessing. She walked out of the breakroom without another word.

The others broke out into disarranged questioning once again. Dennis carefully turned to Robby. The man was getting increasingly red, eyes borderline terrified. Dennis laughed, openly and loudly over the chaos, trying to convey what he was feeling.

This was home.

They would be ok.

Robby smiled back at him, eyes crinkling at the corners.