Work Text:
Trinity woke up on her soft bed, staring at the ceiling for a long minute before the reality of the world actually set in.
She blindly reached her hand out, fumbling across the nightstand until her fingers hit her phone. She pulled it closer and saw that it was 8:16am.
Yesterday had been a nightmare.
The shooting in Pittsburgh was awful, and the city was still recovering from it. It was her very first shift as a real doctor, and it had been absolutely terrible. The blood, the shouting, the way the ER felt like a war zone, it was all still looping in her head.
Then there was the other thing, she’d actually let someone move in with her. Dennis Whitaker.
Only now, in the quiet of her own apartment, did it really sink in that she was going to have a roommate. Someone else was actually living in her space.
Yesterday, when they finally got home, Dennis had barely said a word, he just took a quick shower and disappeared into Trinity’s spare bedroom like he was trying to become invisible.
After spending a few minutes scrolling through her phone and checking messages that she didn’t really want to reply to, she finally forced herself to get up.
She dragged herself to the kitchen to make some breakfast, feeling every bit of the exhaustion from the day before. At least they had a day off today, thank god. She didn’t think she could handle walking back into that hospital for at least twenty-four hours.
She was in the middle of making avocado toast, carefully slicing the fruit, when she heard the quiet shuffle of feet. Dennis entered the kitchen, looking just as worn out as she felt. He had a plain shirt and sweatpants on, his hair a bit messy from sleep.
„Good morning,“ he said quietly, his voice a bit raspy. He went straight for the sink and poured himself a cup of water, his movements slow and careful.
„Yeah, real good,“ Trinity muttered under her breath. She didn’t mean to be mean, but she was still replaying the trauma of her shift while cutting the avocado.
She kept her eyes on the cutting board, the knife clicking against the wood.
Dennis didn’t say anything back. He just sat down at the counter, keeping a respectful distance, not too close to Trinity. He just sat there silently, watching what she was doing with a blank expression on his face.
Trinity had four slices of toasted bread ready on two different plates. She finished putting the cut-up avocados on them, seasoning them quickly.
Without really thinking about it, she pushed one of the plates across the counter toward Dennis and then immediately opened up her phone again to avoid eye contact.
“Here,” she said, her voice a little softer than before.
Dennis looked pretty stunned. He stared down at the plate like he wasn’t sure if he was actually allowed to touch it. “Oh, thank you.” He muttered quietly, looking up at her for just a second before looking back down.
He picked up a piece and took a bite. He’d actually never tried avocado before, it wasn’t really something he grew up with, so he was pleasantly surprised when he found out how good it tasted. The creamy texture and the crunch of the toast were a lot better than the stale granola bars he usually lived on.
They sat there in the quiet of the kitchen, the only sound being the hum of the fridge. It was a weird feeling, sharing a meal with someone who was basically a stranger.
🏥
It had been two weeks since Dennis and Trinity started living together, and Trinity was really starting to notice things.
At first, she thought she was just imagining it, but the apartment was different.
Doors that used to scream every time you touched the handle were suddenly silent. That one leaky faucet in the bathroom that had been dripping like a slow heartbeat for six months? Bone dry. Even the window in the living room that had been jammed shut since she moved in now glided open with a single finger. Every loose shelf and wobbly chair had been tightened, fixed by some invisible hand while she was sleeping or at work.
She also noticed that when she’d accidentally walked into Dennis’ bedroom the day before to ask about a shift change, he hadn’t unpacked a single thing.
His bag was tucked neatly in the corner, and the room was almost the exact same as before. It looked like he was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, like he didn’t want to leave a footprint.
She found it incredibly weird, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to spook him.
Today had been another absolute hellish shift at the pitt. Between a multiple car pileup and a waiting room full of flu patients, they both barely managed to stumble through the front door at 8pm.
They collapsed onto the couch, the silence of the apartment a sharp contrast to the beeping monitors they’d heard for the last twelve and a half hours.
“Fuck, I’m starving,” Trinity groaned. She was face-down against a pillow, but she didn’t make a single move toward the kitchen. She just slumped deeper into the cushions, her scrubs still smelling like antiseptic.
Dennis looked at her from the corner of his eye, then checked the time on his phone. He looked just as exhausted as she was, pale, with dark circles under his eyes, but he didn’t stay down for long.
“I could make something,” he offered quietly. He said it so softly, almost like he was testing the air, as if he was worried that if he spoke too loudly or took up too much space, he’d be kicked out on the spot.
Trinity thought for a second, her stomach growling in agreement. She sat up just a little straighter, rubbing her tired eyes. “You know how to make brownies?” She asked him finally.
When Trinity was a kid, her dad would always make her brownies whenever she was in a bad mood or had a rough day at school. They were her ultimate comfort food, but ever since she started living alone, she just couldn’t get them right. They always came out too dry, or too oily, or just disgust—
“Yeah, actually,” Dennis said, cutting through her thoughts. “My mom taught me how to make them when I was little.”
There was a strange flicker in his expression when he mentioned his mom, something sad and almost uncomfortable, but he didn’t linger on it.
He pushed himself up off the couch, leaving his backpack and his discarded sweater in a messy pile next to Trinity. He quickly put on his slippers and disappeared into the kitchen before she could even say thank you.
Trinity stayed on the couch, watching his shadow move against the kitchen wall. She was honestly surprised.
They were both obviously dead tired and yet the second she mentioned being hungry, he was up. No complaining and no protest at all. It was like he was wired to make himself useful. She didn’t say anything.
And that night, Trinity fell in love with his brownies.
🏥
Now that they had been living together for four months, they really knew a lot about each other. It wasn’t just surface-level stuff anymore.
First, Trinity was a lesbian.
Dennis had learned that pretty quickly after he saw her and Garcia flirting at work, that specific way they looked at each other over a patient’s chart. Then one night, they both came back to the apartment together and disappeared into Trinity’s bedroom without a word.
Dennis didn’t say anything about it, not that night or the next day. He just woke up the next morning, made an extra coffee, and left it sitting on the counter for them before disappearing back into his own bedroom so they could have some privacy.
Second, Dennis was gay.
It took a while, but Trinity was actually the one who helped him realize it.
Growing up, he always thought that it was a sin, that it was something broken that needed to be prayed or even beaten out of him. That was just how his parents raised him. Trinity had to sit with him and explain that it wasn’t like that at all.
She told him it was completely normal and that his parents should just fuck themselves and mind their own business for once. It was a lot for him to take in, but having her say it made it feel a little less like a disaster.
Third, they both smoked.
It was their main way of dealing with the stress of the hospital. Trinity always had some sort of fruity vape with her that smelled like candy, while Dennis stayed loyal to cigarettes, Marlboro Reds, to be exact.
Trinity tried one once and couldn’t stop coughing, although she kind of got used to the smell after a while. She’d even reach over and steal a puff from him here and there when they were standing out on the balcony together.
Fourth and final, they both had shitty childhoods.
It was the one thing they really had in common, though they never went into much detail, at least not while they were sober.
At some point in their lives, they had both fallen into the unhealthy habit of self-harm. They talked about it maybe once or twice, usually in the middle of the night on the balcony while they were smoking and half-drunk. They never fully went into the specifics of it, but they didn’t have to.
Trinity knew well enough that Dennis had a toxic, boarding on dangerous relationship with his parents. On the flip side, Dennis knew that Trinity had a deep, burning hatred for men.
She never clarified exactly why, but seeing the way she tensed up around certain male patients or the way she looked at the floor when things got too loud, he got the gist of it.
It was barely 7:30pm when they finally stumbled through the front door, the apartment quiet after a surprisingly normal shift at the pitt. No insane patients and no massive traumas, just a weirdly calm day.
They both dropped their bags by the door and collapsed onto the couch, the silence of the living room a relief after twelve hours of hospital hum.
Trinity was already messing with her vape, the smell of sweet strawberry filling the air, while Dennis just sat there staring at his phone with that distant look he got when he was thinking too much.
“So,” Trinity started, blowing a cloud of smoke toward Dennis. “You gonna tell me what’s up with you and Robby, or am I gonna have to guess?”
Dennis grimaced a little, not even looking up from his screen. “Nothing is up with me and Robby, Trinity. We’re just working.”
“Right. Working.” She said, shifting on the couch to face him properly. “Because the way he was looking at you in the breakroom earlier? That wasn’t ‘work.’ And you were blushing so hard I thought you were having an allergic reaction.”
“I wasn’t blushing.” Dennis muttered, finally putting his phone down. He reached into his pocket for his pack of Marlboro Reds, just fidgeting with the box. “It was just hot in there. The ventilation in the breakroom is shit.”
Trinity rolled her eyes, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Sure, Dennis. It’s the ventilation. It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s always touching you. Like, in some way or another, his hand is always on your shoulder, or he’s brushing against your arm, or he’s literally leaning over you to ‘check a chart’ when he could easily just ask for you to move.”
Dennis went quiet, his shoulders tensing up. He looked toward the balcony door. “He’s the attending. He’s just—he’s a good guy, Trin. Some people are just nice.”
“Nice? Dennis, most of the time he’s only nice to you,” she said, her voice softening but staying firm. “He doesn’t do that with anyone else. You have a massive crush on him, and it’s honestly painful to watch you pretend you don’t.”
Dennis let out a breathy, frustrated laugh, rubbing his face with his hands. “I don’t have a crush on him. I’m just… I’m not used to people being decent, okay? When someone is actually nice, I don’t know what to do with it. My parents always said that kind of stuff was—”
“I don’t give a fuck what your parents said.” Trinity interrupted, shaking her head. “I’m telling you, the man is interested. And you’re terrified because you actually like it when he touches you.”
Dennis stayed silent for a minute, staring at the floor. He wanted a cigarette, but he also didn’t want to move and prove her right. “I’m just not used to it,” he whispered, his voice sounding thin and honest for a split second.
Trinity watched him for a second, seeing the way he was trying to hide behind his own hands. She knew if she pushed too hard, he’d just retreat into his room and lock the door for the night.
“Whatever you say, Huckleberry” she muttered, leaning back into the cushions. “But if he asks you out and you say no just because you’re scared of your own shadow, I’m not buying avocados for a month.”
Dennis finally looked up, a small, genuine smile creeping onto his face. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
🏥
It has been already half a year since they started living together, and to say the least, it was really nice.
They got along amazing, like brother and sister. It wasn't even like they were just roommates anymore, they actually understood each other without having to say much.
Trinity even gave him a new haircut herself. A nice mullet because she said that his hair was starting to annoy her every time she looked at him.
She just sat him down in the living room and went to town with the sheers, and surprisingly, it actually looked good on him.
Sometimes, she’d even steal his clothes simply cause she can. She’d walk out of his room wearing one of his hoodies or even his pants, and her only excuse was that this was her place, her rules.
He didn't even mind though, he just let her do whatever she wanted because he was glad that she was comfortable enough around him.
Dennis also started going out with Robby. It was a slow process, but they were finally together now, and it actually felt real for once.
Trinity was so happy for him that she basically forced him to celebrate. She insisted they get drunk together the second he told her, which they obviously did. They spent the whole night on the couch, half-drunk and laughing about the hospital and other stupid stuff because she was just glad he was finally moving on from all the bullshit his parents told him.
Seeing him actually smile and not look so scared all the time made the apartment feel a lot lighter. She’d even joke about it whenever Robby dropped him off, just to see Dennis turn red and try to hide his face.
Right now, it was 8pm and Dennis was making dinner for them while Trinity took a shower.
The apartment was quiet for once, and the only sounds were the knife hitting the cutting board and the low hum of the oven. He was in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables with a cigarette in his mouth, the smoke curling up toward the vent while he worked.
He also made brownies which were in the oven at the moment. The sweet smell of the chocolate was already starting to fill the kitchen, mixing with the scent of his cigarettes. It was a weird combination, but it felt like home to him now.
Trinity came out of the bathroom a few minutes later with a towel around her shoulders and her hair still damp. She was dressed, wearing some shorts and one of Dennis’ t-shirts that she had definitely stolen from his room earlier that day.
“When are you gonna be done?? I’m starving.” Trinity complained as she went to sit next to him at the counter in the kitchen, leaning her chin on her hand and looking at the pile of peppers he was working on.
Dennis removed the cigarette from his mouth and placed it on the ashtray next to his elbow. “Like half an hour I think.” He muttered, going back to cutting up a pepper with that quiet, focused look he always had when he was trying to be useful.
They talked about nonsense for a bit, just catching up on the gossip from the pitt and complaining about their tired feet, when Trinity opened up her phone and showed him some messages.
“Do you think she’ll want to go out tomorrow?” She asked Dennis as he leaned over, reading the messages on her phone from Garcia.
He knew that the two of them had been hooking up for a couple of months now, but he was never sure if it was serious or not.
He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to people, and he definitely wasn’t that good about relationship advice. He just blinked at the screen for a second. “Uhh, where were you thinking of going?”
“Not sure yet, a new bar opened not to far from here, supposedly there’s good music and drinks.” She said, sighing as she looked at her phone. She quickly texted back something and closed her phone, tossing it onto the counter next to his ashtray.
They talked about that for a few minutes, debating if Garcia would actually like a loud bar or if they should just stay in and order pizza. Suddenly, Dennis’ phone started ringing. The vibration was loud against the fabric of the couch cushions where he’d left it earlier, and since his hands were busy and covered in vegetable juice right now, he couldn’t get it.
“Can you check who’s calling?” He asked Trinity, not even looking up from the cutting board.
She rolled her eyes and groaned about having to get up, but she went anyway. She walked over to the living room area and picked up the phone from the couch.
When she checked his phone, her expression changed instantly. The annoyed look she usually had disappeared, replaced by something a lot sharper and more worried.
“It’s your dad.” She said, her voice sounding a lot more serious as she went back to the kitchen with the phone in her hand.
Dennis was so surprised that he jumped, almost cutting his finger with the sharp knife, but luckily he moved his hand in time. His heart started racing immediately, that familiar cold feeling washing over him just at the mention of his father.
He quickly wiped his hands on a towel and took his phone from her, his fingers shaking just a little bit. He didn’t even stop to think about it, he just stared at the name on the screen for a second before he declined the call, the screen going black as the kitchen went completely silent.
Dennis stood there for a second, just staring at the black screen in his hand like it was going to explode. The kitchen, which had felt warm and smelled like brownies a minute ago, suddenly felt freezing. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, that familiar, sick feeling rising in his throat.
“You okay?” Trinity asked, her voice dropping that teasing tone she usually had. She didn’t move closer, knowing how he got when he felt cornered, but she didn’t look away either.
“Yeah. Fine,” Dennis muttered, though his voice sounded thin. He set the phone face down on the counter, pushing it as far away from him as possible.
He picked up his cigarette again, but his fingers were shaking so much he almost dropped it.
Trinity watched him, her arms crossed over his oversized t-shirt. “He hasn’t called ever. Why now?”
“I don’t know,” he said, finally getting the cigarette to his lips and taking a long, shaky drag. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, trying to focus on the peppers again, but his vision was a little blurry. “Maybe he ran out of people to preach at. Or maybe my mom told him where I am.”
“If he calls again, I’m answering it,” she said, and he knew she wasn’t joking.
Trinity looked like she was ready to fight someone, even if it was just a voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll tell him exactly where he can shove his bible.”
Dennis let out a dry, breathless laugh, rubbing his face with his free hand. “Don’t. It’ll just make it worse. He’ll think you’re ‘corrupting’ me or some shit.”
“Let him think it,” she shrugged, sliding back onto the counter stool. “I’ve been called worse by better people.”
They sat in silence for a minute, the only sound being the timer on the oven suddenly going off. The brownies were done.
Dennis didn’t move to get them, he just stared at the cutting board, his appetite completely gone.
“Go sit down,” Trinity said, suddenly hopping off the stool and taking the knife out of his hand. “I’ll finish dinner. Go on the balcony or something. Call Robby if you need to.”
Dennis looked at her, feeling that weird wave of gratitude again, the same one he wasn’t allowed to say out loud. He just nodded once, grabbed his pack of Marlboro Reds and his phone, and headed for the balcony without a word.
He opened the balcony door and closed it behind him, the cool air hitting his face and making him shiver for a second. There was a swinging chair that Trinity had bought a few months back, and Dennis decided to sit in it.
He leaned back in it, the chair swinging a little with a quiet creak that usually calmed him down, but right now his heart was still racing.
He pulled out another cigarette from the pack, his fingers shaking a little as he tried to get a grip on it. He tried to flicker on the lighter, his thumb slipping twice, but he finally managed to get a flame on the third try. He took a long drag, staring out at the city lights and trying to breathe.
He was just nervous. His dad never called him, not since the day Dennis had packed his bags and left. He texted him here and there, usually just some bible verses or a reminder that he was ‘praying for his soul’, which Dennis always ignored. But it was usually his mom that called every couple of months, asking if he was eating enough, if he wanted to go home and if he had a girlfriend.
His dad calling was different. It meant something was wrong, or worse, that he wanted something from him.
Dennis blew out a cloud of smoke, watching it disappear into the night air. He hated how one vibration of a phone could make him feel like he was a teenager again, standing in his house and waiting for a beating that never ended.
Inside, he could hear Trinity moving around the kitchen, the sound of the pans clinking against the stove as she took over dinner.
She was being louder than usual, probably trying to drown out the silence for him. He closed his eyes for a second, the swinging chair moving back and forth, trying to focus on the smell of his cigarette instead of the phone in his lap.
A couple of minutes later, the balcony door slid open with a sharp creak, and Trinity came out holding the brownies on a plate.
The smell of the chocolate was thick, but it didn’t really cover up the smell of the smoke already clinging to Dennis. “Look, I tried to cook dinner, but I feel like I will literally set the kitchen on fire if I stay in there. Now move.”
She said it quickly, her voice a little higher than usual, almost as if she was embarrassed that she couldn’t even manage to stir a pan without nearly causing a disaster.
Dennis didn’t say anything, he just moved a little to the side on the swinging chair to make room. Trinity leaned down and sat next to him, their whole bodies touching because it wasn’t really a big chair, but it was just big enough for both of them to fit if they squeezed.
Dennis was already on his second cigarette by then, the ash tray balanced on his lap. He quickly grabbed a brownie from the plate, the chocolate still warm and gooey, while Trinity reached over and took his cigarette right from between his fingers.
“Did he call you again or sent you a message?” Trinity asked as she took a puff from the cigarette. She tried not to grimace because she hated how strong the cigarettes were, but she seemed like she needed the hit as much as he did. She gave him back the cigarette and took a brownie from the plate on her lap, picking at the crust.
“I don’t know, didn’t check my phone yet.” Dennis said, his mouth full of the brownie.
His phone was sitting face down, resting against his thigh, the screen dark and heavy. He was trying to act like it wasn’t there, like it was just a piece of material and not something that could ruin his entire night.
Trinity rolled her eyes, her patience clearly running out. Before he could react, she reached over and took his phone right from his lap. Dennis panicked a little and tried to get his phone back, his hand darting out to grab her wrist, but Trinity was quicker.
She jumped out of the swinging chair, making it wobble and creak, and stood in front of him. She started looking through his phone while also holding the plate of brownies, her thumb swiping across the glass with a determined look.
“Trin, don’t. Give it back,” Dennis said, his voice shaking a little. He felt exposed, like she was digging through a wound he wasn’t ready to show her yet.
“I’ll just check if he sent you something. You’re gonna sit here and cry all night if I don’t, Huckleberry.” Trinity muttered as she entered the messaging app. She went quiet then, her eyes scanning the screen. She stopped when she saw the list of messages from his dad, the contact name Matthew Whitaker (do not answer) glaring back at her.
Matthew Whitaker (do not answer)
Matthew Whitaker (do not answer) October 10th
Timothy 5:8 (NIV)
“Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”
Matthew Whitaker (do not answer) December 25th
Leviticus 20:13 (NIV)
“If a man has sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable.”
Matthew Whitaker (do not answer) February 2nd
Proverbs 19:26 (NIV)
“Whoever robs their father and drives out their mother is a child who brings shame and disgrace.”
Matthew Whitaker (do not answer) Today 8:13pm
Your brother Adam is sick.
She read through the verses he’d sent over the last few months, the ones about being an unbeliever, and bringing shame. Then she saw the last one, sent only a few minutes ago.
Trinity stared at the message for a long time, her face going completely blank. She didn’t make a joke, and she didn’t get angry. She just gave the phone back to Dennis without saying a single word.
Dennis took his phone back, his movements stiff. He quickly put his cigarette back into his mouth, needing the smoke to steady himself.
His face drained of color so fast it was jarring, his skin turning a sickly pale as he finally read the message for himself. He stared at the words about his brother, the light from the screen making his eyes look sunken and tired.
“Should I respond?” His voice was shaky as he asked Trinity. He looked up at her, looking completely lost, because he honestly didn’t know what to do.
He felt like he was back in that house, trapped between wanting to care and knowing it was probably just another trap to bring him back to a place that hated him.
Trinity looked at him for a second, her face softening just a little bit because she could see he was spiraling. She knew that look.
“Yeah,” she said quietly, sitting back down next to him so their shoulders pressed together again. “But don’t call him. Call your mom. She’s the only one who actually tells you the truth anyway.”
Dennis nodded, his chest feeling tight. He didn’t want to talk to either of them, but the thought of his brother being actually deathly sick made his stomach do flips. He scrolled past the messages from his dad, his thumb hovering over his mom’s contact.
Jennifer Whitaker (do not answer).
He took one last, shaky drag of his cigarette before crushing it out in the ashtray.
He pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear, his heart thumping so loud he was sure Trinity could hear it. It rang five times before she picked up.
“Dennis? Honey, is everything okay?”
Her voice sounded normal. It didn’t sound like someone who was sitting in a hospital waiting room or dealing with a crisis. Dennis closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair.
“Yeah, ma. I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice still a little rough. “I just… Dad sent me a message. He said Adam was sick?”
There was a long silence on the other end, it made Dennis feel like an idiot for even asking. He heard her sigh, and he could almost see her shaking her head.
“He’s got a cold, sweetie. He stayed home from work today to rest up.” She said, her voice sounding tired. “Your father… he just wanted to see if you’d pick up. I told him not to do it, but you know how he is when he gets an idea in his head.”
Dennis felt the air leave his lungs all at once. He wasn’t even relieved, he was just sad. He felt Trinity’s eyes on him, watching his every move.
“Oh. Okay,” he said, staring down at the ashtray on his lap. “I just wanted to check. I have to go, ma.”
“Wait, Dennis—”
He didn’t wait. He hung up the phone and dropped it back into his lap, the screen going black. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
Trinity didn’t even have to ask. She saw the way his shoulders slumped and the way he looked like he wanted to disappear into the chair. “So? Is he dying or is your dad just a prick?”
“A cold.” Dennis said, a dry sigh escaping his throat. “He has a cold. My dad just wanted to see if I’d answer.”
Trinity swore under her breath, reaching over and grabbing another brownie like she wanted to throw it at a wall. “I’m gonna kill him. I’m actually going to go to Nebraska and set his car on fire.”
Dennis didn’t answer.
The apartment was dead silent. It was almost midnight, and Dennis was staring at the ceiling of his room, the blue light from his phone charging on the nightstand casting weird shadows on the wall.
He had been tossing and turning for over an hour. Every time he closed his eyes, his brain just started looping through the shift, the patients, and the conversation he’d had with his mom earlier. He felt exhausted, his bones aching from standing for twelve hours, but his mind was wired.
Finally, he groaned softly and reached for his phone, the bright screen making him wince as he unlocked it. He squinted at the display, his heart doing that familiar little skip when he saw the notification banner.
He had three unread messages from Robby.
They had been officially dating for a two months now, but Dennis still wasn’t used to it. He still felt that jolt of ‘why is he talking to me?’ every time Robby’s name popped up.
He swiped to open the chat, the light illuminating his pale face.
Robby♥️
Robby♥️ 10:12pm
Hey, just wanted to check if you’re still coming over later this week?
I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner tomorrow, my treat.😋
If you’re sleeping, then good night.♥️
You 11:49pm
sorryyy I didn’t check my messages😢😢
I could come over on Friday and we could definitely go out to dinner tomorrow
Robby♥️ 11:54pm
You’re not sleeping yet?
You have a shift at 7am tomorrow Dr. Whitaker.😉
You 11:55pm
well I could tell u the same thing Dr. Robby
idk I’m just not tired
Robby♥️ 11:56pm
Did something happen?
You 11:58pm
uhh
my dad called me
*Robby♥️ is calling—11:58pm*
*Call started—11:58pm*
*Call ended—2:12am*
🏥
At this point, it has been eight months since Dennis and Trinity started living together. Today, they both had a day off. It was surprising how many days off they had together, but it was nice. Usually, their schedules were a mess, but today the apartment was quiet and they didn’t have anywhere to be.
It was currently 6:15am when Robby’s alarm went off. He stayed over the night and him and Dennis were sleeping in Dennis’ bed.
The room was still pretty dark, just that thin, gray morning light peaking through the blinds. Robby leaned over to the nightstand and quickly turned off the alarm, but it was too late and Dennis already woke up, mumbling something before he opened his eyes.
He was wearing a t-shirt, which was bunched up around his waist. He looked at the time on the glowing digital clock and groaned, leaning against his elbows. “You’re already leaving?”
His voice sounded tired and raspy, and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands to look at Robby better. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up at odd angles, and he felt the chill of the room hitting his skin where the shirt had ridden up.
As he pushed himself up, he pulled out his arms from beneath the blanket, there were thin scard that ran across his skin, mostly faded but still visible if you were looking.
“Well I don’t have a day off.” Robby was the attending so he rarely got days off. He was always busy with the hospital, even on weekends sometimes. “But you do, so go back to sleep, Dennis.” Robby said as he got up from Dennis’ bed and started putting on his clothes which were on the floor from the night before.
“I’m not even that tired, Michael.” But while he spoke, his eyes were already closed, yet he was still leaning on his elbows. He was stubborn enough to stay awake with Robby for a few minutes before he had to leave.
“Sure you aren’t.” Robby spoke as he put his clothes back on. He sounded amused, like he knew Dennis was lying through his teeth. He was sitting at the edge of the bed while putting on his shoes, his back to Dennis.
Dennis, who actually was tired, still sat up on his knees and hugged Robby from behind. He leaned his weight against Robby’s back, burying his face in the crook of Robby’s neck. He muttered some nonsense about wanting Robby to stay a little longer or something else, Robby couldn’t tell. His voice was muffled by the fabric of Robby’s shirt, sounding small and sleepy in the quiet room.
“Do you want me to make you coffee?” Dennis asked finally, pulling back slightly and going to sit next to Robby on the edge of the bed. He looked at Robby with half-closed eyes, his hands resting on his thighs. He looked messy and exhausted, but he was trying to be helpful anyway.
Robby stopped tying his shoes and looked over at Dennis, seeing how hard he was trying to stay awake. He gave a small, tired smile and reached over to squeeze Dennis’s thigh.
“Sure,” Robby said softly. “If you’re actually getting up, I’d love some.”
Dennis nodded slowly, though he didn’t move immediately. He stayed sitting there on the edge of the bed for a second, his shoulders slumped and his eyes blinking heavily, trying to find the energy to actually stand up.
Finally, he got up and stretched, yawning a little. He felt the stiffness in his back from yestarday, but at least he didn’t have to go to work today. He grabbed his phone and the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand.
He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a mug and a coffee thermos for Robby.
A couple of months ago, him and Trinity were buying stuff for their place and Dennis found a coffee machine which only he knew how to use. Trinity once tried, which later Dennis had to fix because it broke. She had somehow managed to get coffee grounds everywhere and jammed the filter, so now she just waited for Dennis to make it for her.
Dennis was still wearing only boxer briefs and a t-shirt, it was too early for him to change. He leaned against the counter and checked his messages which he didn’t feel like responding to. There were a few notifications, but he just stared at the screen, waiting for the coffee to finish dripping.
A minute later, Robby came out of Dennis’ bedroom and into the kitchen. He already had his work clothes on and his sweater that he always wore. He looked way more awake than Dennis did, but his hair was still a little messy from sleep.
He went behind Dennis and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him back against his chest. Dennis felt the soft material of Robby’s sweater and his warm breath against his skin. Before Dennis could say anything, Robby leaned down and started to gently kiss his neck, right below his ear.
Dennis let out a small, shaky breath and leaned his head to the side, giving him more room. “You’re going to be late,” he muttered, though he wasn’t trying to move away at all.
“I don’t care,” Robby whispered against his skin, his voice sounding even deeper than usual. He kept kissing the side of Dennis’s neck, his hands squeezing Dennis’ waist a little tighter. “The hospital can wait ten minutes.”
Dennis rolled his eyes, but he had a small smile on his face. He reached back and ran his hand through Robby’s hair. “I thought you were the one who told me to go back to sleep. Now you’re keeping me up.”
“I changed my mind,” Robby said, giving him one last lingering kiss on the shoulder before resting his chin there. “You smell nice. It’s distracting.”
“I smell like cigarettes and old coffee.” Dennis joked, but he leaned back into the hug, enjoying the quiet of the kitchen.
Robby chuckled, the vibration of it hitting Dennis’s back. “Exactly. My favorite.”
He stayed there for a second, just holding Dennis while the coffee machine made hissing sounds. It was nice, standing there in the dark while the rest of the world was still quiet.
Robby’s hands were still around Dennis’s waist, holding him close, and he shifted slightly until his chin was resting on top of Dennis’s head. Dennis was shorter than him, so it was easy for Robby to just lean his weight there, his breath warm against the mess of Dennis’ hair.
Dennis didn’t move away. He just pulled a cigarette out of the pack he’d brought into the kitchen and flicked his lighter.
The small flame was bright in the dim room, and he took a long puff, feeling the smoke hit the back of his throat. He let out a slow exhale, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling and around Robby’s face.
“You’re really not going to let me leave, are you?” Robby muttered against the top of his head, though he didn’t make any move to let go.
“I’m not the one holding onto you, Michael.” Dennis said, his voice still a little raspy from sleep. He took one more puff before the coffee machine made a final hissing sound, signaling it was done.
He reached back and handed the cigarette to Robby over his shoulder. Robby took it, taking a small drag as he finally loosened his grip on Dennis’s waist so he could move.
Dennis stepped toward the stove and grabbed the coffee pot, the steam hitting his face and waking him up a little more.
He poured the coffee into his own mug first, then carefully filled up the coffee thermos for Robby. He didn’t want him to have to deal with the hospital coffee if he didn’t have to. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out the milk, adding a splash into his mug and then into the thermos until the color looked right.
“Here,” Dennis said, putting the milk back and capping the thermos. He picked up his mug and leaned back against the counter, looking at Robby.
Robby handed the cigarette back to him and took the thermos, the heat of it warming his hands. He looked at Dennis for a second, his eyes softening. “Thanks. You’re actually being nice to me this morning. Should I be worried?”
Dennis rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, feeling the heat spread through his chest. “I’m always nice. Besides, I don’t want you crashing your car on the way there.”
“Sure, that’s the only reason,” Robby joked, taking a sip of the coffee and nodding. “Perfect as always. You’re definitely better at this than Trinity.” He muttered and put it back on the table.
“That’s not exactly a high bar to clear,” Dennis muttered, but he had a small smile on his face. He took another drag of his cigarette and watched Robby.
Robby finally sighed, checking the time on his phone and then grabbing the coffee thermos Dennis had just filled. He looked at the door like he actually hated the fact that he had to leave the apartment and go deal with the hospital.
“I really have to go now,” Robby muttered, though he didn’t actually move toward the door. He stepped closer to Dennis instead, the thermos in one hand and his work bag slung over his shoulder.
Dennis leaned back against the counter, holding his own mug. He felt a little bit of those familiar nerves bubbling up in his chest with Robby standing so close, his eyes darting toward the hallway for a second to make sure Trinity wasn’t waking up yet. “Then go, Michael. You’re already cutting it close and you know how the traffic gets.”
Robby leaned down and gave him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. It was supposed to be a goodbye kiss, but then he didn’t pull away. He lingered there for a second, his free hand coming up to gently cup Dennis’s jaw, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone.
He kissed him again, a little deeper this time, and Dennis felt his face getting warm. He gripped his coffee mug a little tighter, his heart starting to thump against his ribs.
“Robby,” Dennis whispered against his lips, sounding a little breathless and shy. “You’re seriously gonna be late.”
Robby didn’t say anything. He just tilted his head and kissed him again, his lips soft and lingering. He was kissing him like he had all the time in the world.
“For real,” Dennis said in between kisses, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he glanced at the clock again. He felt a little flutter of nervous energy in his stomach because Robby was being so persistent and he didn’t want him to get in trouble. “You have to go now, Michael. Really.”
“In a minute,” Robby breathed, but he just kept kissing him. Every time Dennis thought he was finally going to pull back and walk out the door, Robby would just lean back in for another one, his breath warm against Dennis’s mouth.
“Michael,” Dennis muttered, shifting his weight and feeling his face flush a deep red. He was trying to be the responsible one, but it was hard when Robby was looking at him like that. “Stop. You’re gonna be so late. Please go.”
Robby let out a low chuckle against his lips, giving him one last, slow kiss on the corner of his mouth before he finally, actually stepped back. He looked a little wrecked, like he’d much rather stay right here in the kitchen than go anywhere else.
“Okay. I’m going. For real this time,” Robby said, holding up the thermos like he was proving he was ready.
“Good.” Dennis said, taking a quick sip of his coffee to distract himself from how fast his heart was going. “I’m just… I’m going back to sleep. So go.”
“Sure you are,” Robby joked, heading toward the front door. He looked back one last time, giving Dennis a quick, warm smile. “I’ll text you when I have time. Try to have a good day off.”
Dennis just nodded, watching him go. The sound of the front door clicking shut left the kitchen feeling a lot quieter, and Dennis stood there for a second, touching his lips with his free hand.
It was a little after 8am when Trinity emerged from her bedroom.
She was wearing one of her t-shirts and Dennis’ boxers which she also started stealing from him recently. He still didn’t mind, mostly because he had enough of them and she looked comfortable anyway.
Her hair was messy and sticking up in every direction, and she yawned loudly as she entered the kitchen to see Dennis sitting at the counter.
He was already on his second coffee of the day, leaning back and smoking a cigarette. The kitchen smelled like a mix of coffee beans and smoke, which was pretty normal for their apartment at this point.
He had already made avocado toast for breakfast, with little flakes of red pepper sprinkled on top just the way she liked it. He’d even made sure the toast was extra crunchy. Next to the plate was her favorite mug, filled with steaming coffee that was already lightened with just the right amount of milk.
“You’re actually a saint, Huckleberry.” She muttered out, her voice still sounding scratchy from sleep. She practically collapsed into the stool next to him at the counter and took a big, desperate sip of the coffee.
Dennis just smiled in response and took a sip of his own coffee, watching her slowly come back to life. He flicked a bit of ash into the tray and looked at her.
“I figured if I didn’t make you something, you’d just eat cereal over the sink again,” Dennis said, his voice a little clearer than it had been when Robby was there.
Trinity groaned, already halfway through her first piece of toast. “Cereal over the sink is a perfectly fine breakfast. But this is definitely better.” She looked at him for a second, noticing he seemed a little more awake than usual for this time of day. “Why are you even fully functional right now? I thought you’d be dead to the world until at least ten.”
“Robby’s alarm went off at six.” Dennis explained, looking down at his mug. He felt a little bit of that heat coming back to his face when he thought about how Robby kept kissing him goodbye over and over again, making him all nervous in the middle of the kitchen. “He had to go to work, so I just stayed up.”
“Mhm.” Trinity muttered out with a mouthful of avocado. She nudged his arm with her elbow, grinning. “You’re just becoming a morning person because of your doctor boyfriend. It’s gross, Dennis.”
“Shut up, Trin.” he muttered, but he wasn’t actually mad. He just took another drag of his cigarette and looked out the window.
The apartment was quiet, and even though Robby was gone, it didn’t feel empty. He watched Trinity finish her breakfast, feeling glad that he’d actually gotten up to do something for her.
He was just glad to be useful.
🏥
The Fourth of July shift was finally over, and it had been a total nightmare.
Everything that could go wrong did. The hospital’s computer systems got hit by a cyber attack right in the middle of the holiday rush, which meant everything—labs, meds, and patient vitals—had to be done on paper. It was pure chaos.
There were so many mix-ups and so much confusion trying to read people’s messy handwriting while trauma cases were pouring in from the fireworks and the humidity. It felt like they were practicing medicine in the dark ages, and by the end of it, everyone was just fried.
But somehow, they all actually survived it. By 8pm, the chaos finally died down enough for them to leave. Most of the crew decided they weren’t ready to go home and sit in the quiet, so they headed straight to a bar to decompress and actually celebrate what was left of the holiday.
It didn’t take long to realize that Dennis and Trinity are both massive lightweights.
After maybe one or two hours, the stress of the day combined with the drinks completely caught up to them. They were both a mess, barely able to stand on their own two feet and just giggling uncontrollably at literally everything.
Trinity was leaning on the edge of the booth just to stay upright, and Dennis was in his own world, laughing so hard that he looked like he might fall off his stool.
When it was time to wrap things up and everyone started heading out into the warm night air, the responsibility of getting the drunks home fell on Robby.
Since Dennis and Trinity are roommates, it just made sense for him to be the one to deal with both of them.
He didn’t really mind, though. He spent most of his life looking out for people, and after the day they’d had, seeing Dennis actually relaxed and happy, even if he was stumbling and acting like a total fool, made the headache almost worth it.
Getting them to the car was a whole project. He had to basically drag them through the door, catching Trinity when she tripped over the curb and then grabbing Dennis by the arm to keep him from wandering off toward a nearby food truck.
Once he finally got them both buckled into the back seat, they just slumped against each other, still whispering and laughing about nothing. Robby just caught Dennis’s eye in the rearview mirror and shook his head with a small smile.
After a while, Robby pulled the car up to the curb in front of their building, and for a second, he just sat there listening to the two of them sing some song that wasn’t even on the radio.
The drive had been a lot of shushing and making sure Trinity didn’t try to roll the window down all the way, but now came the hard part. Their place wasn’t a ground-floor deal, it was a few flights of steep, narrow stairs up. Robby knew he had his work cut out for him.
“Alright, we’re here.” Robby said, unbuckling his seatbelt.
He got Trinity out first, propping her up against the side of the car while he went around to grab Dennis.
Dennis was a little more looped than she was, he managed to get his feet on the pavement but then just kind of tilted toward Robby’s shoulder, mumbling something about how the sidewalk felt like it was moving.
“The sidewalk is fine, Dennis. Just walk,” Robby muttered, though he was smiling.
He ended up with Trinity’s arm draped over one shoulder and Dennis gripping him firmly by the waist on his other side. It was like a slow-motion human puzzle as they made it through the front door and hit the first stair.
Every few steps, Trinity would find something hilarious about the wall, her giggles echoing in the quiet hallway, which only made Dennis start giggling too.
“Shh, people are sleeping,” Robby whispered, though he knew it was a lost cause.
By the second flight, the heat of the July night was really starting to settle in the un-airconditioned stairwell. Robby was feeling the burn in his legs, basically hauling most of their weight as they stumbled upward.
Dennis tripped on a loose carpet thread and nearly took all three of them down, but Robby caught the railing just in time, bracing himself.
“Easy, easy,” Robby breathed out, adjusting his grip on Dennis. He looked over and saw Dennis looking at him with this goofy, lopsided grin, completely oblivious to how much work this was.
“You’re… you’re really strong, Michael.” Dennis managed to get out between hiccups.
“Yeah, well, keep that in mind and try to use your own legs for the last flight.” Robby joked, huffing a bit.
They finally reached their door, and it took Robby a solid minute of fishing through Trinity’s bag to find the keys while trying to keep either of them from leaning too hard on the doorframe.
When the lock finally clicked, he steered them both inside, letting out a long breath of relief. The apartment was dark and a little stuffy, but it was flat ground, and that was all he cared about right now.
Robby navigated them through the dark living room, finally getting Dennis toward the couch.
As soon as his knees hit the cushions, Dennis just kind of tipped over sideways, letting out a long, dramatic sigh of relief. He looked like he was already halfway to passing out, so Robby figured he was safe there for a second while he dealt with Trinity.
“Stay put, Dennis. Don’t move,” Robby warned, Dennis just gave a weak thumbs up.
Robby turned his attention back to Trinity, who was swaying in the middle of the room. He guided her down the hall toward her bedroom, her footsteps heavy and uneven on the hardwood.
When they finally made it inside, he sat her down on the edge of her bed. The room was dim, lit only by the streetlights filtering through the blinds, and Trinity looked like she was struggling just to keep her eyes open.
He gripped her ankle to steady her, untying the laces while she kicked her feet out weakly. He pulled off both sneakers and then her socks, tossing them into the corner. Trinity let out a long sigh of relief, rubbing her bare feet against the carpet.
“Alright, Trinity. You think you can handle it from here?” Robby asked. “You need help changing into something else, or are you just gonna crash in those clothes?”
Trinity looked up at him, her expression dazed. “I got it,” she mumbled, reaching shakily for the hem of her shirt. “I’m—I’m a professional.”
She tried to pull the fabric over her head, but her coordination was completely gone. She ended up getting her arms tangled in the sleeves, the shirt stuck halfway over her face, and she just stayed like that for a second, let out a frustrated little groan. It was pretty clear she wasn’t getting anywhere on her own.
Robby sighed, stepping forward. “Okay, move your hands.”
It wasn’t even awkward, honestly. Between being a doctor and the fact that he was basically gay, Robby had zero hang-ups about it.
He was happily dating Dennis, and he’d known for a long time that Trinity was a lesbian, so there wasn’t a drop of weird tension in the room.
He gently untangled her arms and pulled the shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it toward a chair. He reached into her dresser and grabbed a big, oversized t-shirt he figured she used for pajamas.
“Arms up,” he told her.
Trinity obeyed like a tired toddler, letting him slide the clean shirt over her head.
But just as the fabric settled, her hand shot out and grabbed him tight by the collar. She yanked him down until they were eye-to-eye. The giggly, drunk Trinity was gone for a second, and she looked deadly serious.
“Listen to me,” she slurred, her voice dropping low. “If you ever do anything to Dennis… I mean it, Robby. I will cut your dick off.”
Robby didn’t even flinch. He didn’t get annoyed or pull away, he just looked at her with a soft, genuine expression and gave a small nod.
“Noted,” he said quietly. Then, he reached over and patted her hand gently so she’d let go of his shirt. “I promise, Trin. I’m gonna take care of him. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“You better,” she muttered, her grip finally loosening as she started to drift off again. “He’s had a hard time. Don’t be a jerk.”
“I’m not gonna be a jerk, Trinity. I really care about him.” Robby said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Just go to sleep.”
He pulled the comforter up over her shoulders, making sure she was tucked in right. She let out a little hum and was out cold a second later. Robby adjusted his collar and headed back out to the living room to see what kind of state Dennis was in.
He saw Dennis still in the exact same spot on the couch, totally passed out. He looked so peaceful compared to the mess they’d dealt with all day. He reached out and gently shook his shoulder, leaning in close.
“Hey, wake up,” Robby whispered. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”
Dennis groaned and muttered something unintelligent, his eyes fluttering open just enough to see Robby. He looked completely out of it.
Robby reached down and grabbed his hands, pulling him up. Dennis wasn’t even that heavy, but his legs were like jelly, so Robby had to basically haul him up and keep a firm arm around his waist to keep him from tipping over.
They stumbled down the hallway, Dennis leaning most of his weight on Robby’s shoulder, until they finally made it to his bedroom.
Robby steered him over to the bed and sat him down on the edge. Dennis just slumped there, his head hanging low, looking exhausted and a little miserable.
Robby knelt down on the floor to start taking off his shoes. As he was tugging at the laces, he heard Dennis let out a shaky, frustrated sigh.
“I’m so sorry, Michael,” Dennis whispered. His voice sounded thick, and he looked like he was right on the edge of crying.
Robby stopped what he was doing and looked up, his expression softening immediately. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“The board,” Dennis said, his lip trembling a little as he stared at his lap. “I didn’t take a proper picture of the board. Everything was such a mess because of the cyber attack and I just—I couldn’t get it right. I wanted to keep track of everyone, but I messed up.”
He sounded genuinely heartbroken about it. Even drunk and tired, he was still stressing over the patients and the organization of the shift.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Robby said gently, reaching up to rub Dennis’s knee. “Joy helped with that, remember? She took care of the organizing when things got crazy. It really doesn’t matter now anyway, the shift is over.”
“I just feel so stupid,” Dennis muttered, a tear finally escaping and rolling down his cheek. “I should’ve had it handled. I’m supposed to be better than that.”
Robby dropped the shoe he was holding and moved closer, resting his hands firmly on Dennis’s legs. He waited until Dennis looked at him.
“You aren’t stupid, Dennis. Not even close,” Robby told him, his voice firm but really sweet. “You’re the smartest person in that building, and you worked harder than anyone today. The computers being down wasn’t your fault, and you did amazing. Okay?”
Dennis sniffled and wiped at his face, looking at Robby with those big, watery eyes. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” Robby said, giving his knees a supportive squeeze. “I’m so proud of how you handled today. Now let’s get these clothes off so you can actually get some sleep, okay?”
Dennis just nodded, his head bobbing a little as he watched Robby with a glazed, tired expression.
He was definitely in that peak loopy stage where the room was probably spinning just enough to be fun, and he looked like he was struggling just to keep his eyes focused on Robby’s face.
Robby knelt back down on the carpet, tugging off Dennis’s socks one by one and tossing them into the corner to join the messy pile of shoes. Then he reached up to unzip Dennis’ sweater, easing the heavy fabric off Dennis’ slumped shoulders, removing it completely before draped it over the wooden chair close to the bed.
Then he reaches out again, grabbing the hem of Dennis’s shirt and starts to carefully pull it upwards. Dennis lifted his chin a bit, his movements slow and heavy like he was moving through water.
“Do you wanna meet my parents, Michael?” Dennis suddenly asks while Robby is removing his shirt.
The question kind of throws him off guard. Robby’s hands stall for a second, the fabric of the shirt bunched up around Dennis’s neck.
He knew what kind of people they were. Homophobic, abusive, intensely religious, the kind of people who had spent years trying to break the person sitting right in front of him. He knew the stories Dennis had let slip in the dark, and he knew the scars that weren’t just psychological.
Still, he quickly composes himself and answers. “Would you want me to?”
Dennis thinks about the question for a long moment, his brow furrowing as he stares at the wall. He lifts his arms up so Robby can finish the job, and Robby removes his shirt fully, tossing it aside onto the floor.
“No.” Dennis says, the word coming out small and certain.
“Then I don’t want to.” Robby answers finally, his voice firm as he leans down and goes to remove Dennis’ pants. He starts to pull them down, mindful of how much Dennis was swaying on the edge of the mattress.
“They’re so mean. My dad more than my mom.” Dennis slowly says as Robby is removing his pants. He looks down at his own hands, his voice trembling just a little. “They’re not like you. They don’t look at me like I’m a person.”
Robby stays quiet, focusing on guiding the clothing over Dennis’s ankles.
“Is it bad that I don’t like them?” Dennis asks, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is it bad that I don’t want them to even know your name? I feel like if they knew about us, they’d find a way to make it dirty. And I don’t want it to be dirty, Michael. I like that it’s just ours.”
Robby pulls down his pants completely and stands up, stepping closer into the space between Dennis’s legs. He reaches out, resting his hands on Dennis’ waist to steady him.
“Its okay to not like them if they deserve it, Dennis.” Robby says, looking him straight in the eyes with a fierce kind of protectiveness. “You don’t owe them anything just because they’re family.”
Dennis just sat there on the edge of the mattress, his shoulders hunched slightly as he looked up at Robby with those wide, glassy eyes.
The room was quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of the air conditioner and the soft rustle of the clothes Robby had just set aside. Dennis reached out, his fingers catching the edge of Robby’s shirt, pulling at the fabric with a weak, clumsy sort of desperation.
“Are you gonna stay?” Dennis suddenly asks, his voice sounding small and a little bit slurred. “Tonight? Like, all the way until the sun comes up?”
Robby didn’t even have to think about it. He didn’t care about his own bed or the fact that they both had to be back at the hospital in the morning.
“Yes.” Robby answers immediately, his voice firm and grounding. “I’ll stay.”
Dennis let out a long, shaky breath, his grip on Robby’s shirt loosening as he slumped back a bit, looking relieved. He stayed sitting, his legs bouncing against the floor as Robby stepped back to start removing his own clothes.
Dennis didn’t look away. He just watched with a heavy, dazed sort of focus, his head tilted to the side as Robby reached up and pulled his shirt over his head.
The light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, and Dennis’s eyes tracked every movement Robby made, from the way his muscles moved in his back to the way he tossed his shirt onto the chair.
“You’re very pretty.” Dennis says suddenly, his voice thick with sleep and alcohol.
Robby paused, his hands moving to the belt. He looked over at Dennis, a small, amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was used to Dennis being blunt when he was drunk.
“You mean handsome?” Robby asks, raising an eyebrow as he starts to undo his belt.
Dennis shakes his head slowly. He looked completely serious, his expression almost solemn as he kept his gaze fixed on Robby.
“No.” Dennis says firmly, his words dragging out a little. “Not handsome. Pretty. Like—like a painting or something. You have a very pretty face, Michael. Your eyes are pretty. Your nose is pretty. Everything is pretty.”
Robby let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head as he stepped out of his pants. He kicked them aside, standing there in just his boxers as he looked back at the messy, beautiful disaster sitting on the bed.
“Pretty, huh?” Robby asks, stepping back into the space between Dennis’s knees. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me that.”
“Then everyone else is blind.” Dennis murmurs, reaching out to touch Robby’s chest with both hands. His palms were warm against his skin, his touch light and wandering. “You’re the prettiest thing in this whole building. In the whole city. I could just look at you all night.”
Robby reached down, catching Dennis’s wrists and gently guiding him to lean back toward the pillows. “Well, you can look at me while we’re lying down. But you need to get under these covers before you freeze, pretty boy.”
“I’m not the pretty one.” Dennis insists, even as he lets Robby maneuver him into the center of the bed. “You are. Don’t forget. You’re the pretty one.”
“Okay, Dennis.” Robby whispers, a soft smile on his face as he climbed in beside him, pulling the heavy comforter up over both of them. “I’m the pretty one. Now go to sleep.”
The next morning, the fluorescent lights at the nurse’s station were humming, and for Dennis, it sounded like a chainsaw. He dragged his feet across the floor, feeling every bit of the tequila still sitting heavy in his gut.
Trinity was already there, hunched over a terminal, her face inches from the screen. She didn’t even look up when he slumped into the chair next to her.
Dennis stared at his monitor for a solid minute before he even bothered to log in. His hands felt shaky, and his brain was barely there. He finally started typing, the clicking of the keyboard echoing way too loud in his ears.
Trinity stopped typing for a second, her hand still frozen on the mouse. She didn’t turn her head, just stared straight ahead at a patient’s CT results.
“Dennis,” she muttered, her voice sounding flat and completely drained.
“Yeah?” Dennis breathed, not moving his eyes from his own screen.
“Maybe we shouldn’t drink that much,” she said, finally leaning back and letting out a long, miserable sigh. “Like, ever again.”
Dennis shut his eyes for a second, the image of the spinning bedroom from last night flashing in his head before he forced them open again. He let out a dry, huffed breath that was barely a laugh.
“Yes,” Dennis said, his voice scratchy and tired. “Definitely not.”