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The first time, he absolutely panicked. As in honest-to-God panicked. Which included dropping his half open, half empty water bottle (he was just coming in to the staff lounge to refill it before going home) square on the floor and watching, terrified, as water sprayed everywhere.
“Shit!”
That was probably him. Maybe Dr. Robby. Maybe they both said it, approximately at the same time.
“Uh…” Dennis looked from the floor to the eyes that were fixed on him. “I… um…” He tried to arrange his expression into something… soothing? Like something that could fool somebody into thinking he was taking control. That, however, turned out to be way above his pay grade (not that he was getting paid). “I’ll just…” he gestured at the water, “mop that up.”
His brain was still making poor attempts at catching up when Dr. Robby, grimacing, wordlessly handed him a stack of flimsy paper towels. The room felt like it was rotating around its very own axis as Dennis made terrible progress with the water.
Dr. Robby cleared his throat. There was some color high on his cheeks – but still only a faint version of the positively consuming heat that had crashed into Dennis’ face and was still raging there. “Why don't you just… leave it…”
It came out sort of in the shape of a question. For all their sakes, Dennis decided it was an order.
“Okay. Yeah, sure. Will do.”
He was on his feet again in an instant. After that, he fled for his life, probably.
As for Dr. Abbot, he had not moved an inch. Had only remained by the counter, his expression betraying nothing at all.
¤¤¤
The second time was somehow even worse?
The weather had been stuffy for a week and their shift surprisingly uneventful. After he had finished up, Dennis had enough energy left to find his way to the roof, with the sole intention of grabbing some air, hoping against hope that it would be cooler up on high than on ground level.
He wasn't really given a chance to evaluate.
He saw them before they saw him and that could have been his saving grace but just then the door banged shut behind him and they all jumped.
If there was one thing Dennis had not expected when he began his internship at PTMC, it was that he would eventually be introduced to what it looked like when his attending stood pressed up against the night shift attending who had slipped a hand down the back of the former’s cargo pants.
“Fuck.” Even in the failing daylight, it was easy to see that Dr. Robby didn't exactly approve of the interruption.
Belatedly, Dennis realized that Dr. Abbot’s other hand was busy too. He was using it to palm Dr. Robby’s crotch which would account for the way he was breathing quite heavily.
“Can we help you with something Dr. Whitaker?” Dr. Abbot asked smoothly.
“Um… No,” Dennis said. “No, no… I'm good.” Desperately, he fumbled for the door handle behind him. Tried a smile which felt like a weird stretch of his entire face. “Great… air.”
After that time, he seriously considered never returning to the Pitt for as long as he lived, but he wasn't sure Santos would allow him to stay in her apartment if he dropped out and ending his medical career also meant losing access to the empty wing on the eighth floor.
¤¤¤
“Whitaker? Can I have a word with you?”
Inasmuch as it was possible to avoid an attending, he’d successfully avoided Dr. Robby almost an entire shift. In fact, he had just begun to believe that he might actually be able to sneak off unscathed when Dr. Robby waved him into the yet empty locker area.
Dennis went. With a sinking feeling of impending doom.
Turning to face him, Dr. Robby ran a hand over his face, then stuffed it into the front pocket of his hoodie. “All right, so… That thing you saw… between me and Dr. Abbot…”
He paused. And it took Dennis entirely too long to figure out that Robby was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement.
“Uh-huh,” he said, which would have to suffice since it felt like his tongue had tied itself into a knot behind his teeth.
Dr. Robby made a face. “I… feel like I need to make it clear that… that is exactly what it is. It's just a thing.”
“No, yeah, sure,” Dennis said while nodding, finally managing to work up some steam. “We all… have things, right?” he heard himself add, with absolutely no idea what he meant by that.
Dr. Robby didn't look convinced but he apparently decided to play along. After a tense moment, he even smiled, if a little crookedly.
Now, Dennis wasn’t gay. The thing was, though – Dennis’ thing – was that he wasn't… entirely straight either. And unluckily for him, Dr. Robby was a very attractive man. The unfortunate icing on the proverbial cake: so was Dr. Abbot. The undisputed solution was, of course, to never think about that. To strictly view them both as his attendings and never ever let his imagination get the better of him and run wild.
In order for that to successfully work, however, Dr. Robby needed to stop smiling at him.
“So, if that’s all,” Dennis said, pointing over his shoulder towards relative freedom, “I really should get back to the projectile vomiting in North five.”
“All right. Just…” Dr. Robby’s gaze was still locked with his. Somehow, he was managing to look both supremely uncomfortable and slightly amused. Which didn’t help. “I guess what I'm saying is that I would appreciate it if you didn't… advertise it.”
“What?” he asked, like an idiot.
Dr. Robby gave half a shrug. “The thing.”
“Oh,” Dennis said quickly. “Sure thing. I mean, you got it, Cap.” Inevitably, some warmth crept up his throat.
Dr. Robby nodded slowly, brown eyes glued to Dennis’ face. “Thank you.”
Somehow, he felt both better and worse after that conversation.
¤¤¤
Two whole weeks passed. Two wonderful weeks during which everything returned to normal – where the bodily fluids Dennis came in contact with were blissfully unconnected to any acts of a sexual nature and whatever displays of intimacy he was subjected to were the results of the interactions between patients and their loved ones.
Well, apart from the way Santos and Dr. Garcia greeted each other when the latter dropped by the apartment but that was still miles better than him walking in on Dr. Robby and Abbot. Besides, Dennis had long since decided that Garcia wouldn’t hesitate to straight up murder him if she felt it was justified so he kept his mouth shut about that as well.
Two whole weeks of hand-offs to the night shift that didn’t include any missteps och mishaps or conversations he wasn’t prepared to have.
Until one of them did.
Dennis was busy pulling a spare pair of socks from his backpack when he heard somebody approaching and, before he knew it, Dr. Abbot had materialized to his left.
“Whitaker.”
“Oh, hi…” he said, in a way that put far too much emphasis on the ‘h’ and making it sound like something heavy had just planted itself on his chest. “Dr. Abbot.”
With increasing fear, Dennis watched Abbot make for his own locker. He had just decided to make a run for it when Abbot half turned to face him.
“Did Robby by any chance talk to you?”
It was impossible to read him. “Maybe…?” Dennis said, carefully.
“He would,” said Abbot, sounding frighteningly untroubled about that. “And I’m going to assume that he told you to please keep quiet about what you saw.” Before Dennis had time to react, he went on, “Even if it isn't that much of a secret.”
“It’s not?” Dennis asked, while wishing he had not. Considering the fact that his one prioritized mission was to steadfastly ignore the fact that his two – again, very attractive – attendings were in some capacity… involved, that really was a poor choice on his part. He knew that.
Dr. Abbot shrugged a shoulder. “I guess that depends on how you define ‘secret’.”
Dennis was not falling into this trap, however. He was not going to ask how Abbot defined ‘secret’.
“Personally, I’ve always thought that Robby could benefit from cultivating a few deeper relationships,” Abbot continued, as if he were completely lacking in any compassion for Dennis’ internal struggle.
Speaking of secrets, that was.
“Of course,” Abbot added, “he would also be the first to vehemently deny that he and I at all are in a relationship, but… it takes two to tango. Or not tango, as the case may be.” The corner of his mouth turned upwards in a devastating mixture of smirk and smile, and his tone dropped significantly. He even leaned in a couple of inches. “Between you and me, Robby is very accomplished tango dancer.”
Dennis bit down hard around the veritable squeak that threatened to escape him. What in the world possessed anyone to say something like that? He had to reply, though. Had to achieve some form of coherent string of words.
“Uh, good,” he said, voice definitely strained.
Abbot chuckled. “What can I say? I’m a lucky guy.” Then, because obviously he’d woken up that day with the sole purpose of tormenting Dennis, he proceeded to pull off his sweatshirt and was left in only a decently tight, well-worn, gray t-shirt. He threw a sideways smile that was much too knowing. “So, what’s your deal, Whitaker? Enjoy any dancing?”
And God only knew what came to him in that moment. “Sure,” Dennis could hear himself saying while doing a tremendously bad job of getting his own eyes to stay fixed on Abbot’s face instead of on his trim waist or bared arms. “Don’t we all… you know?”
Dr. Abbot’s brows rose. Dennis’ cheeks went up in flames.
He was just about to open his mouth and take that back when they were joined by one of the night shift nurses and the opportunity was lost forever.
¤¤¤
“Just us, then?”
Dennis could practically feel his eyes widen. “Uh, no,” he said, tearing his eyes away from Dr. Abbot to scan his surroundings. “No, I'm pretty sure… Um…”
Santos breezed past him. “In your dreams, Huckleberry!” she threw over her shoulder, as if she somehow knew how to read his mind. “I see enough of you at home.” Still making for the exit, she spun to walk backwards. Her smirk was more mocking than anything else. “Come on, go out, have some fun! You deserve it.”
And with that she was gone. As were most of his other day shift colleagues. A vague sense of terror began to unfurl in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't think of one single thing to say.
“So,” said Dr. Abbot from beside him, after a moment. “Just us, then?”
He looked across Dennis at Dr. Robby who had ended up flanking his other side. To Dennis’ rapidly increasing alarm, Robby flashed a weak smile and inclined his head in silent approval.
“Great,” said Dr. Abbot. “After you.”
They made it to the park in silence. Which somehow made it even more surreal and awkward than if they had been talking. Then, when the benches came into view, the whole situation had the potential of escalating far past the point of what Dennis was convinced he could handle, but this at least was firmly sorted out by Abbot who sank down to sit first and then waved Robby over. Dennis opted for the bench opposite them, seating himself on the edge and almost wishing he were back at the apartment, stuffing earplugs into his ears in anticipation of the sounds that were scheduled to escape Santos’ bedroom.
It was a warm night. He tried to think about that as Abbot leaned back in his seat and casually dropped a hand to Robby’s thigh.
Dennis swallowed.
“Jack…” he heard Dr. Robby mumble in some kind of warning. It made it through the traffic noises much better than it should have.
“So what?” Abbot said dismissively. “The kid knows.”
Robby’s eyes met Dennis’.
“I do…” Dennis said. This was a new flavor of facing your fears, that was for sure. Faking it till one day when he'd hopefully make it, he tried to produce a smile. “And it’s fine. I mean, you should… feel free to be yourselves.”
The line of Dr. Abbot’s mouth smoothed into a satisfied smile. He patted Robby’s thigh in a contented fashion. “You heard that? Dr. Whitaker gives us his blessing.” Then, suddenly, he was leaning forward, his eyes also on Dennis’ face. “I’m serious, though. That means a lot.”
The way he spoke, with an obvious earnest quality to it, was not at all beneficial to Dennis’ heartrate.
“Yeah… maybe we should…” Dr. Robby was looking about half as comfortable as Abbot was, if that. “We didn’t even bring anything to drink.”
Abbot only glanced at him briefly before returning his attention to Dennis. “How much of a drinker are you, Whitaker?”
He didn’t even consider pretending. “Not much… I had an uncle who drank himself to death. Kinda put me off it.”
“Good for you.” Abbot sat back again. Again, he patted Robby’s thigh. “We’re just taking a moment to appreciate some stillness after a long day.”
Dennis drew a steadying breath. “Why did you come in today, Dr. Abbot?”
“Well…” This time when Abbot looked to Robby, his gaze did linger. “The other day when Robby and I were comparing our schedules we realized that if one of us didn’t switch his hours around we wouldn’t be able to spend any time together for the next two weeks or so.”
“Oh,” said Dennis. It was hopeless, then. It didn’t seem to matter what he said or did – inevitably, every choice of his led him right back to the fact that Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot appeared to be dating.
“Yeah… Not really in line with Gloria’s budget but it gives the rest of the ED staff an idea of what it might feel like to work in a place not chronically understaffed,” Abbot continued. “And you new kids get the luxury of two attendings breathing down your backs instead.”
Well, that was an image.
“I’m not really compatible with night shifts,” Robby provided, taking Dennis by surprise.
Abbot chuckled. “No, you are not.”
It cracked the ice, at least to a degree.
“How about you, Whitaker?” Dr. Robby asked, now speaking in a way that suggested he had finally surrendered to the moment and decided to contribute. “You think you could do nights?”
“I don’t know,” Dennis said honestly. “When you’re raised on a farm, you kind of get used to making the most of the daylight hours.”
“Makes sense,” Robby said, and then he was smiling. And – God have mercy – it was as if Dennis could see – even in the unevenly lamp-lit evening darkness – the way his eyes softened and crinkled in the corners. And then, while Dennis’ insides sort of screamed, he lifted a hand to cover Abbot’s where it still rested on his thigh. “It does take a certain… zest to do nights,” he said, and there was clear affection in his voice now. “I’m pretty convinced those people are wired differently.”
“Could be…” Dr. Abbot allowed. “Although, from what we have discovered, at least in some respects you and me are wired the same.” He could have smirked, but he didn't. In fact, in the patchy light, he looked genuine.
Robby acknowledged that with another smile and Dennis could not drag his eyes away as he laced his fingers together with Abbot’s. It was only when Robby spoke again that his head jerked up:
“I guess I should also say thank you for not… letting this… affect anything.”
In a way, it was a huge relief that Dr. Robby thought this wasn't affecting Dennis. Even if he was wrong.
“’Course,” Dennis said. His own anxiety aside, he was keen to show Dr. Robby that he still respected and appreciated him, if he were doubting as much. “As a matter of fact, I'm not entirely straight myself.”
He heard himself say.
The journey of Robby’s eyebrows from its normal placement to almost the level of his hairline was a show of its own. Meanwhile, no one spoke. Then Abbot laughed. It was a bit of a novel experience, truth be told.
“For how long were you going to sit on that information?”
“For forever?” Dennis suggested weakly. He wouldn't really have minded a sinkhole opening up underneath him just about now.
“How come?”
“I don’t know? Not used to… talking about it, I guess,” he said, intending for a laugh of his own to go with but he didn't really make it there.
“Huh,” said Abbot, eyes unabashedly roaming all over Dennis.
Beside him, Robby finally stirred. “Well, at least you can be sure your secret’s safe with us,” he said with another one of those crooked smiles of his.
Trying to not be too tempted by that sight, Dennis finally achieved the laugh, though it sounded more like the pained exhale from a dying animal. “Thanks.”
“Well…” Abbot was still watching him intently. “It sure as hell isn’t my place to say but… maybe you should consider coming out at some point.”
“Uh…” An itchy heat was working its way up Dennis’ throat and neck. “Yeah…” he said doubtfully. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet.”
“Why not? Fear of social stigma? Shame? Guilt?”
“Jack…” Robby said in a familiar tone, which, as soon as he heard it, Dennis found he sorely needed. This was once again his attending speaking. Not this other, new and unfamiliar version of Dr. Robby that Dennis had not signed up for to discover. “Let him take his time.”
“Like you are doing?” Dr. Abbot asked him. It could have been a reprimand but his voice ended up on the gentler side of it.
Robby was silent for a moment, very much looking like he was choosing his words carefully. “It’s not always easy,” he said in the end.
Abbot watched him for a moment longer but then turned back to Dennis. That was unfortunate. Given a choice, he honestly would have preferred it if they had forgotten about him.
“He forgets I’m a veteran,” Dr. Abbot told Dennis, with the smallest hint of a sardonic smile.
“That can’t have been easy,” Dennis said.
Abbot lifted a shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “It was what it was.”
And that was the moment. That was the moment when Dennis Whitaker, to spare himself the risk of ending up saying or doing or even thinking something he wasn’t supposed to be saying or doing or thinking, should have gotten up and gone home. It was like he knew it in his bones. It was like he could see the opportunity extending its hand towards him, ready to assist. If he could only kick himself into motion.
As it turned out, he failed.
“So…” Abbot had extricated his hand from Robby’s gentle hold and was now tracing an invisible line down Robby’s thigh with his fingertips instead. His gaze was nailed to Dennis’ face, however. “Have you ever…”
“Jack.”
“What?” he asked calmly, gesturing at Dennis with his free hand. “I’d like to know what we’re dealing with.”
“Dealing with?” Dennis asked as a nervous twist came to his stomach. Questioningly, he looked from Dr. Abbot to Dr. Robby.
Dr. Robby shook his head. “Now is when you ignore him.”
“Have you ever kissed another man?” Dr. Abbot asked.
Dennis’ mouth fell open.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Dr. Robby told him.
“I… haven’t,” Dennis answered, for some inconceivable reason.
No one in the entire world – Nebraska born or not – could have prepared for the smile that drew over Abbot’s face in response. It was calculating, lingering on the border to predatory and (unfortunately) very sexy. It left Dennis’ mouth dry as paper. Somewhere down below, his heart began beating a little faster.
Abbot’s voice cut smoothly through the rumble of traffic beyond the trees. “Why don’t you come here?”
Dr. Robby pulled away from him, a frown clearly painted on his face now. “What are you doing?”
“Why not?” Abbot said. “Or are you, right now, implying that you’d like to be monogamous? Because I’d be very interested in having that conversation.” Not waiting for a reply, he leaned forward, aiming his words for Dennis. “Personally, I'm of the opinion that when you’ve reached the point in a...” he shot a sharp glance over his shoulder at Robby who still looked slightly stricken, “relationship… when you willingly – for no medical purpose – help the other party remove their prosthetic leg before going to bed together… Then you have something going. However, Robby here has made it his trademark to avoid the difficult stuff.”
By now, Dennis’ heart was making for his constricting throat. It made it difficult to speak properly. “Yeah, well… I don’t really want to get in the middle of that, so…”
He was so close to pushing himself to his feet and leaving. Would have, too, if Abbot hadn’t fixed him with his stare. “So… while Robby busies himself with figuring it out… why don’t you come here?”
His feet, the traitors, obeyed.
Seated up close like this, Dennis barely dared to see the fine lines in Abbot’s face, his sheen of stubble or the way the light from the streetlights nestled in his graying curls. Didn’t at all encourage his brain to think about the way his lips curved into a subtle smile or how his eyes were solely on him. It was a losing battle.
“Now would be the time to withhold consent,” Abbot murmured, gaze flicking from Dennis’ eyes to his mouth and back up again.
“No, it’s okay,” he said in a thin, tinny whisper. His stomach was turning over on an endless loop that made him nauseous.
Abbot gave a minuscule nod. “Robby, you want to do the honors?”
Dr. Robby’s voice came sliding over his shoulder: “Jack, what are you doing?” A warning swam beneath, but on top was mostly incredulity.
Dr. Abbot’s smile deepened a fraction. “We are a teaching hospital,” he said quietly. “You want to be taught something, kid?”
It was instinct that made Dennis lick his lips but he blushed all the same. “I think so,” he all but stammered.
“All right,” Abbot said. “Let’s see what we have here, then.” And with that, he cupped Dennis’ cheek.
He didn’t know what he had expected but it wasn’t that. Abbot’s palm was dry and just a shade rough against his skin, but there was an affirming quality to the touch that Dennis immediately liked. Before he knew what he was doing, he was opening his mouth to say something but he never got the chance because, just then, Abbot kissed him.
Their noses gently bumped together. He registered that almost before he fully understood that another man’s lips were against his own, but then it was like a shockwave through his entire system.
It was smoother than he would ever have guessed it might be. Most likely due to Abbot’s obvious experience. And it was very obvious that he’d done this before. Dennis sat as if frozen, letting Abbot tilt his head just so, allowing Abbot to focus on his bottom lip, maybe even suck on it a little. Whatever it was, it sent spark after spark up Dennis’ spine until his mind was spinning way out of control and his eyes drifted closed all of their own volition. Abbot’s breaths were shallow and came in feather-light, warm puffs. Dennis was probably not breathing at all. Then Abbot was changing the angle and suddenly there was a tongue tip dipping into Dennis’ lower lip and drawing a faint, needy noise from him.
Abbot smiled. Dennis realized this when the kiss stumbled. Unthinking, he dove back in, not at all ready for it to be over so soon. In response, Abbot’s hand slid from his cheek to hold the base of his skull and he took the opportunity to open Dennis’ mouth with his own and then their tongues were sliding together. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Then, unexpectedly, other fingertips were tracing his other cheek and a hoarse whisper broke through the thick haze that was collecting in his head:
“Fuck.”
Dennis’ insides somehow both exploded and melted when he recognized Dr. Robby’s voice. His eyelids weighed a ton but when he was finally able to blink his eyes open he realized Robby was watching them from where he was still seated behind Abbot. His eyes were wide and his lips parted. He was reaching for Dennis. Rubbing the pad of his thumb over Dennis’ cheekbone.
“This is hotter than it has any right to be,” he murmured, low and raspy.
The kiss had ended. Dennis wasn’t sure where he was looking or what he was seeing as Abbot drew back. There was some sort of fire coming to life inside him and his thoughts were all tangled. He barely understood what was happening on the bench before him, but Abbot, it appeared, was scooting back and suddenly Dr. Robby was properly in front of him and maybe he was speaking but, more importantly, his mouth replaced Abbot’s against Dennis’.
Whatever air had been left in his lungs effectively evaporated. Robby kissed him senseless, his beard scraping against his skin and adding a new dimension to the kiss. He was framing Dennis’ face with both his hands and holding him steady. The kiss went deep. His tongue was against Dennis’ in a heartbeat, tasting every corner of his mouth. It was almost too much, only it wasn’t and Dennis never wanted it to end. He opened up further, changed the angle himself even, and blushed even more fiercely as Robby rewarded him with a light groan.
When it was over – like in a movie – Robby rested their foreheads together, breathing hard.
Dennis wasn’t sure who he was any longer. He couldn’t really think as he shared breaths with Robby. The bench and the trees and the hospital had all ceased to exist. Then, into the confusion, crept touch and he discovered that somebody was pressing a fingertip into his bottom lip.
Abbot.
No more had he made the connection before Robby jerked against him with a hiss. “Fuck, Jack!”
“Go with it,” came Abbot’s quiet instruction.
When Dennis’ vision had cleared enough, an entirely new wave of heat crashed into him. Abbot had shifted in his seat, had wrapped his arms around Robby from behind and was now palming him through his pants. It was, hands down (so to speak), the sexiest thing he had ever seen.
“We’re in a public place,” Robby tried, but his voice was still hoarse and he was hanging his head.
Over his shoulder, Abbot’s eyes locked with Dennis'. “Lesson number two,” he said. “Give me one of your hands.”
Dennis’ hand trembled as he held it out. Frankly, he couldn’t believe what he was doing as he allowed Abbot to guide him to Robby’s crotch and…
Dennis seriously thought he would throw up.
It was one thing to more or less shamefully masturbate under the covers in a dark bedroom. It was another to… feel… this.
Robby was hard. That single sentence rang through his head. He could feel Abbot’s eyes on him as they both pressed down. Robby gave a choked sound.
“And… stroke,” Abbot smiled, and there was a devilish edge to it. “A little harder than you normally would since he needs to feel it through his pants and underwear.”
Dennis did his best. It probably wasn’t very good, but he tried to mimic what Abbot was doing even if his angle was another but it didn’t matter so much when Robby was letting go of fractured, frayed noises that sank into Dennis’ bloodstream.
“Try kissing him again,” Abbot instructed as he pressed the heel of Dennis’ hand down over what felt like the tip of Robby’s cloth-covered arousal.
So he did. Because you didn’t go against the orders of your attending or whatever. Dennis’ head swam as Robby kissed him back ferociously, with no finesse, and the hard ridge under Dennis’ palm strained against the fabric of the pants.
“Fuck, yes,” Abbot murmured. So precise, so calm. “Just like that.”
Dennis was overwhelmed. Trying to kiss and get Robby off at the same time was proving a near-insurmountable challenge. He felt like he was being pulled in completely opposite directions and it was nothing like a chaotic hour in the ER.
Abbot’s hand pushed his own down. Pushed it down hard and Robby, against him, moaned.
“Feels good,” he muttered on a wavering exhale.
“Yeah, it does,” Abbot agreed, and when Dennis glanced up he saw that Abbot was leaning in over Robby, pressing his forehead to his neck.
Distracted, Dennis only realized that his own hand had stopped working when Robby lifted his head a little.
“Hey?”
His eyes were so dark Dennis felt like he could easily be swallowed up by them. But his crooked smile was familiar.
“You're doing good,” Robby whispered around a new, stuttering breath, and it went straight to Dennis’ heart.
They were halfway to a new kiss when the sound of voices pierced the bubble they'd ended up in and, swearing, Robby jerked back. Around Dennis’ hand, Abbot’s fingers closed in a firm grasp. They stayed immobile, all three of them, straining to hear. Dennis making a rather poor job of it since his pulse pounded in his ears and Robby’s breathing still came in pretty harsh gasps.
“All right,” Abbot said quietly, after a moment. “Let's stop.”
They were given just enough time to disentangle to what Dennis fervently hoped was an inconspicuous degree before a group of teenagers appeared on the path. Trying to get his heartrate under control, Dennis bent down and pretended to tie a shoelace as the group ambled past, laughing and blessedly uninterested in the three men sitting on one of the benches. Watching their backs, the enormous wave of relief that swept through him made him lightheaded.
“Okay…” Robby said when they were gone. “I’m gonna say that was enough excitement for one evening.”
Looking up, Dennis somehow became very aware of his own presence. “I should probably… head back home.”
They were both looking at him.
“Yeah…” Abbot said slowly. “Unless you'd like to come back with us to my place and… finish the job?”
Dennis didn't know what he wanted. “I think… he cleared his throat. “If you don't mind I think I just need to go home and process.”
They got to their feet all of them, Abbot wincing a little as he stood. “Fucking leg,” he muttered.
“You okay?” Robby asked, and Dennis didn't miss the concern that threaded itself into his voice.
“Yeah… Just sat at a weird angle. Though I'll be requesting a massage later,” he informed Robby who raised his eyebrows at him.
“Is this when I tactfully remind you that this was your idea?”
“Damn right it was. And a good one, too,” Abbot smirked. Then he lifted his chin at Dennis. “Hey, Whitaker?”
“Yeah?” he said, trying not to look too long at the way Robby looped an arm around Abbot’s waist to help steady him because the sight brought a searing longing into his breast.
It was Robby who spoke, though. Softer than Abbot, maybe just a tiny bit apologetically. After they had exchanged a look. “Have we scared you off?”
“Um…”
“’Cause…” Abbot tipped his head a fraction to the side. “We’re letting the offer stand. Should you decide you want to get in on our thing.”
“Yeah, I think… Thanks.” He took a step back, not really meaning to but finding it desperately hard to structure his thought process with Robby looking so perfectly disheveled and Abbot pressed into his side, eyes burning. “It’s just a lot to take in, you know.”
“Okay…” Robby’s gaze, too, was heavy on him. “I’ll see you Thursday?”
“Uh-huh,” Dennis said in confirmation, before hastily turning his back on them and making to walk away. He wasn't sure he could feel the ground beneath his feet.
He managed three hesitant steps before he swiveled back around.
“Hey!”
They turned as one.
He closed the distance between them again. His pulse was reaching the speed limit but he had to know.
“If I were to… get in on your thing… Could we take it slow?”
The breath he had been holding imploded in his lungs and his entire being dissolved as Robby’s frown gave way to a fond smile. As Robby lifted a hand to cup his cheek. The kiss was undemanding and caring. “As slow as you need,” he whispered.
“You're the boss,” Abbot supplied from beside him. His hand replaced Robby’s on his cheek. “Come here,” he added, and soon enough Dennis felt himself drifting from one kiss to the other.
And things… Well, up until this point in Dennis Whitaker’s life, things had definitely been worse.