Chapter Text
“Seriously Trin, thanks again for this. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Dennis said, getting into the passenger side of the older Jeep. It was well loved from many outdoor adventures and road trips. The inside was almost completely covered with stickers, ranging from pride flags to middle fingers at the current president.
Trinity rolled her eyes. “For the last time, Huckleberry, no need to thank me. You’re going to make this summer bearable. Maybe even fun. I still can’t believe all my friends bailed on our summer plans. If anything, you’re doing me a favor. I won’t be forced to sit through awkward conversations with my dad trying to be ‘cool and relatable’.”
Dennis chuckled, settling in for the hour or so car ride to Trinity’s hometown. “Oh, that can’t be too bad.” He sighed. “I’m sure it’s nice to have a father who cares enough to try.” He finished softly.
There was a brief moment of silence. Trinity didn’t know his exact home situation, but she knew it wasn’t anything good. “Yeah, well. He’s basically a fucking boomer. He doesn’t have a clue about youngins like us nowadays.” She joked, turning up the music. “Now get some sleep, I know you were up all night again.”
Dennis sighed, he did have a reason for going to bed late. He was constantly scouring and applying for scholarships. They were about to start their third year of Medical School, having met as roommates at the start of the second year. Trin had ‘adopted’ him immediately, saying she needed to ‘get rid of the frightened deer look’ out of his eyes. He couldn’t help that that was his base state, he kind of always looked sad-or so he’s been told. Once she had found out Dennis also had no plans for summer vacation, she suggested-demanded-Dennis stay with her for the break. Her father was an ER department head and worked long hours, so she would be bored and alone at the house while he worked. He had learned over the course of the school year that the woman hated being alone, often sneaking into his bed at night after he was asleep. He never brought it up, and neither did she.
Dennis closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Trinity’s presence had become a soothing balm over the course of the year, often helping him calm down when he was stressed. He let the steady hum of the engine lull him to sleep.
--
Dennis looked around the modest, two-story home. It had a spacious kitchen and open-concept living room. The three bedrooms were located on the upper level. Dennis noticed the home, while clean and surprisingly neat for a single man living in it, could definitely use some elbow grease in the nooks and crannies. He made a mental note to bring it up to Trinity-as a way of thanks.
He sat with Trinity in the kitchen as the future doctor looked into the open fridge, groaning at the lack of food. “Ugh, of course. There’s no food. I’m adopted, but I somehow managed to inherit my dad’s inability to cook. You should’ve seen the dinner’s we had when he tried, growing up.” “ She fake shivered. “The horrors.” Trinity turned her aquamarine eyes on Dennis. “Can you cook for us, pretty please?” She batted her lashes.
Dennis hopped up, eager to be of use. “Yeah, no problem. I, um, like to cook, I guess.” He said, sheepishly.
‘Like’ was an understatement. Dennis loved to cook. He preferred to do it as a hobby, otherwise there was a real future where he went into the culinary field instead of medicine. It was the only ‘chore’ on the farm where he didn’t get berated for being ‘too slow’ or ‘too weak’. His skills were almost celebrated, his roast dinners getting compliments from his Father and elder brothers. His mother always gently taught him recipes and techniques, even if secretly hoping he’d still turn out like his brothers.
Dennis took a look into the fridge. While it was sparse, Dennis saw plenty of options for meals. “Hmm, how does chicken casserole with a tossed salad sound? These veggies look like they might go bad soon.”
“Sounds perfect, Huckleberry. Call me when it’s done!” Trinity said, grabbing an apple to snack on and retreating to her room.
--
Dennis dusted his hands off on the apron he managed to find in the pantry. He had managed to find some frozen bread rolls and decided to pop those in the oven. The kitchen smelled heavenly. He was carefully applying garlic butter to the rolls before being startled from the sound of the front door slamming, causing the spoon in hand to clatter to the floor. He got down on all fours with huff, looking for the utensil that managed to magically disappear.
He was bent down as low as he could get to see under the fridge when he heard a throat clear behind him. He shot up, looking to the entryway of the kitchen. A tall man stood there, broad shoulders blocking any light from the hall. He had a scruffy beard and warm brown eyes. Eyes that shot up the moment Dennis turned to look at him. ‘Was he looking at his ass?’ He was older, maybe early fifties, but no less handsome, the streaks of silver in his beard complimenting his looks rather than detracting from them. A dark zip and cargo pants covered the man’s lean frame. “Lost something?” The man said with a slight smile, making the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent. He ran a hand through his already mussed dark brown hair.
Dennis felt himself flush, jumping up from the floor. He hurriedly washed his hands. “Um, hi, sir!” He quickly dried his hands, reaching out to shake the older man’s hand. “My name is Dennis, sir. Thank you so much for letting me stay in your home, Mr. Santos.”
The man let out a choked sound at the name. “My name is Michael Robinavitch, Jesus. Everyone calls me Robby. Trinity chose to keep her mother’s name when I adopted her.” He shook Dennis’ hand firmly, his larger hand much rougher than Dennis’. His hands used to be calloused from farm work, but ever since he left home, he lost most of the physical attributes that came with the labor. The man cleared his throat, face reflecting an emotion Dennis couldn’t place. “You can drop the ‘sir’, too. And it’s really no problem, any friend of my daughter’s is more than welcome to stay.” He sniffed the air. “Smells good in here, kid. You made somethin’?” His deep voice was low with approval.
Dennis clasped his hands in front of his apron, feeling a warm feeling start in his stomach. ‘Kid?’ He smiled. “Yes, si-Robby. I figured it’s the least I could do to thank you for your generosity. I made chicken and broccoli casserole, tossed salad, and I used the last of the bread rolls I found in the freezer.” Dennis paused, clearing his throat. ‘God, why was he so awkward?’ “I hope that was okay?”
Robby hummed, placing his backpack on the floor next to the kitchen island. “Shit, that’s more than okay, kid. It smells fantastic. I didn’t even know I had bread rolls in the freezer. Jack must’ve shoved them in there or something.” He went to a cabinet, taking out plates. “I can make a sandwich and fry an egg, but I won’t act like I really know my way around a kitchen.” He proceeded to walk to the dining table, beginning to place the dishes.
Dennis heard his timer go off, and went to take out the casserole from the oven. He finished adding the dressing to the salad he prepared, nibbling on his lip as an idea popped into his head. He walked into the dining room, placing the large bowl of leafy greens on the table. “Jack? And if-if I may, why not I handle the cooking during my stay? Trin told me you work a lot, I could even make your lunches?”
Robby looked at him, surprise lighting up his face. “Jack is my best friend. Trinity was spot on when she said you would be ‘disgustingly polite’.” He let out a gruff laugh at the face Dennis made at that description. “That’s really not necessary, kid. I’m a big boy, I think I can manage to feed two college kids for a couple months.”
Dennis pursed his lips, putting his hands on hips. “I insist. Please I-” he cut himself off, feeling his voice crack. “-I don’t like handouts.” He finished quietly.
Before Robby could reply, Trinity walked into the dining room. “Oh, hi, dad.” She said, an air of forced nonchalance around her. All it took was Robby opening his arms before a large smile broke out on her face and she rushed over, burying her face in the man’s broad chest.
Dennis decided to give the pair some privacy to catch up, returning to the kitchen and ignoring the odd feeling in his chest when saw the father and daughter hug. His father had never embraced him like that. He was never one to show his affection physically. Or verbally, for that matter. Dennis supposed even if he did, he would not have been on the receiving end of it. He shook his head, bringing out the rest of the food. Robby and Trinity were still talking, the man now having a heavy arm around the woman’s shoulder. He was nodding as Trinity was speaking, Dennis hearing bits and pieces. Dennis only slightly jumped when the pair turned to face him.
Trinity gestured over to him. “Dad, you’ve already met Dennis. Dennis, this is my dad. He’s the head of the emergency department at PTMC.”
Robby smiled, eyes crinkling. Dennis kind of wanted to count every single wrinkle. ‘Where did that thought come from?’ “We got acquainted while you were hiding in your cave. Dennis wants to cook for us during his stay here. He is very polite.”
Dennis felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. It was almost like Robby was talking about him like he wasn’t in the room. Trinity rolled her eyes. “I told you! Huckleberry is a saint or whatever the non-religious equivalent is.” She looked at the dining table. “This looks good, Huckleberry. Let’s dig in!”
They all began to eat the food Dennis prepared. A warm feeling settled in his stomach when Robby continuously complimented his cooking throughout the evening. It was reminiscent of the rare occasions that his father would compliment the food he made, similar yet different enough that he felt the urge to chase the fleeting feeling. Robby insisted he and Trinity clean the dishes, grabbing her collar when she tried to run off to the living room. Dennis decided not to protest, putting the leftovers away. He was left alone in the kitchen with Robby when Trinity managed to run off, escaping the forced chore. She lifted her head from where she was plopped on the couch. “Dennyyyyy, can you get me ice cream? I saw my favorite in the freezer!”
Dennis opened the freezer, seeing multiple containers of double fudge ice cream. He checked them, raising an eyebrow at how many of them were half empty. Robby chuckled next to him. “She saw her favorite ice cream because it was my favorite ice cream first.” The man grabbed two pints and two spoons from the cutlery drawer. He gave them to Dennis. “Here, go relax. I’ll finish up in here.” Dennis blushed and thanked Robby for the ice cream. Chocolate was also his favorite flavor.
“I’m off for the next three days,” Robby said once he joined the duo in the living room. He reclined in his chair, the position naturally drawing Dennis’ eyes to the spread of the man's thighs, the fabric of his sweats stretching with the movement. Dennis ripped his eyes away when he noticed the slight bulge in the dark cloth, mouth beginning to water. A wave of guilt washed over him, he felt like a pervert. ‘Get it together, Dennis!’ “I figured tomorrow we can go grocery shopping, you kiddos can pick out whatever junk you’re eating nowadays. Figured we make time this weekend to show Dennis Lake Erie. You’ve probably never been, right?” The older man nodded at Dennis.
Trinity groaned next to him, flopping her head on Dennis’ shoulder. “Grocery shopping? No, thanks. Dennis knows what I like. You and Dennis go and then-oh! We should eat at Mels’ Dinner for breakfast!”
Robby frowned. “It's a little rude to abandon your friend, Trin. We can go to Mels’, if you go grocery shopping with us.”
Trinity looked at Dennis. “Huckleberry doesn’t mind, right? Please, I could use the extra sleep.” She put her hands together in a begging motion.
Dennis thought he could use the extra sleep too. He was already feeling drowsy, the fullness in his stomach making him feel at ease. But- “Sure, I don’t mind, Trin. You need your sleep after the drive today. I’ll make a list so the trip doesn’t take too long.”
Robby shook his head, giving Dennis a stern look. Dennis felt his stomach flip and looked down. A clicking noise brought his attention back to Robby. “You know you can say no to her, right? I tried my best not to spoil her. I don’t want her taking advantage of your kindness.”
Dennis waved his hands. “It’s really no problem, sir! I don’t mind.”
Robby looked at him for a long moment before sighing and getting up from the chair with a soft groan. “Fine, kid. Let’s try to leave at eight, then. Good night, kiddos.” The man did one last stretch before heading up the stairs. Dennis watched his retreating figure longer than he wanted to admit.
Trinity patted him on the back. “Get some sleep, Huckleberry. God, I haven’t had Mels’ in so long, you’re gonna love it.”
Dennis weakly bid her good night, going to the guest bathroom across from his room. He thought as he relived his bladder. He thought as he brushed his teeth. And he continued to think before falling into a fitful sleep, eyes burning.
--
Dennis has never had a crush before. At least, not in the way his brothers or school friends talked about them. He didn’t become fixated on Jessica from Classroom A’s long hair, didn’t care for Megan from Class C’s long legs. Instead, he thought the idea of love was nice. The concept of having someone always on your side, taking care of you, providing a comforting presence. The thoughts were fleeting, and never came with physical attributes. He had briefly toyed with the idea of being asexual, but he still craved a romantic connection with a person.
Now, as he walked through the produce section with Robby, those thoughts came to him, unbidden and insistent. He liked the idea of large, rough hands holding him at night. Reaching up to hold strong shoulders, laying his head on a firm chest. What would it feel like to have a beard tickle his face as he kissed thin lips?
He recalls the whispers, his mother shooting him frantic looks while his father looked on with a stern expression. School boys giving him confused glances when he didn’t find a girl pretty. His father, dragging him from little Jimmy’s house, his lips still tingling from where he placed an innocent kiss on the boys’ cheek.
Dennis walks through the produce section and thinks he may have a crush on Robby, and that is very, very bad.
--
Dennis orders a coffee, all too aware of Robby’s presence beside him. The man commanded a room without trying. He had a strong presence and natural confidence that drew people in. Dennis thinks he’d make a great mentor if things were different. If he were different.
They were alone for now, waiting on Trinity to meet them at the diner. It had a classic diner aesthetic, complete with laminated menus and a jukebox in the corner, collecting dust. Dennis felt eyes on his face and swallowed, feeling a familiar heat bloom in his gut.
“Tell me about yourself, Dennis.” Robby started, taking a sip of his own coffee. “What made you choose the medical field?”
“I didn’t at first,” Dennis blurted, looking into the older man’s warm brown eyes. The heat compounded, bursting into butterflies. “Um, what I mean is, my father. He didn’t want to pay for my education unless I did something ‘worthwhile’. So, I did theology?” He continued at Robby’s questioning noise. “But I like, didn’t like it? So I dropped it, but my father didn’t-he didn’t-”
“I understand, kid.” Robby said, placing a large hand on his shoulder. It felt like Dennis’ whole existence narrowed down to the contact, feeling the warmth of the mans’ hand seep through his thin shirt. He forced himself to take a breath. “Are you no contact with your family?”
Dennis nodded, fiddling with his mug handle. The coffee in the cup was sure to be cold by now. Robby gave his shoulder a squeeze before retreating and Dennis had to hold in a whimper that wanted to escape. “They don’t deserve you, kid. I can already tell you’re going to be a great doctor.”
Dennis blushed, blinking owlishly up at the older man. The pair jumped away at a pale hand slamming down on the table. ‘When had they gotten so close?’ Dennis looked up into his roommate's eyes. “‘Sup losers!” Trinity dropped into the booth across from them. “I’m starving, what are you feeling Dennis?”
“The chicken and waffles sound good,” Dennis said, reading off the first thing he saw on the menu. He hadn’t looked at it once.
Trin ‘ooed’. “Nice choice, Huckleberry. Are we ready to order?” At their ensuing nods, she waved over their waitress. “I’ll have the Chef Special and a Diet Coke, please.”
--
Dennis scrubbed harder at the floor underneath him. Trinity had abandoned them after breakfast, stating she was meeting up with a ‘friend’. Dennis tried to feel upset at being abandoned, but there was a part of him that lit up at the idea of being alone with Robby. Trinity had apologized profusely, saying she would make it up to him. They had two months after all. Dennis quietly put away the groceries with Robby, frowning at the dusty corners of the pantry and the stale smell coming from the fridge. He had asked the older man where the cleaning supplies were and got to work.
“Are you scrubbing my floor?” Robby asked behind him, voice colored with amusement.
Dennis shot up, sitting back on his heels. He knew he must look like a mess, dirty apron to protect his clothes and rubber gloves on his hands. He looked up at Robby, noticing the man shifting slightly. That unknown facial expression appeared again. Dennis tightened his fingers over the brush he was holding. “Yes.” He answered simply.
Robby ran a hand down his face. “Christ, kid. You cook, you clean. Next thing you know, you’re going to tell me you can fix the leaky faucet in my bathroom.”
“I can actually,” Dennis said absentmindedly, going back to cleaning the tile floor. It didn’t seem like Robby objected to his actions. “I grew up on a farm, sir. I’m pretty handy when it comes to household chores, I reckon.”
He heard a small noise behind him and looked to see Robby quickly turning around, hands oddly placed in front of him. “Are you okay?” Dennis said, feeling confused and slightly concerned.
“Perfectly fine!” Robby replied, voice in a higher register than normal. “I’m gonna-yeah I’ll be in my shed.” With that, the man quickly walked off. If Dennis had less sense, he would dare to say the man scurried off, as if running away from Dennis.
‘Huh.’ Dennis thought to himself as he finished his task. ‘He must really not want me to fix that faucet.’
--
The shed was a small structure in the backyard. Dennis had briefly seen it during Trinity’s quick house tour. Dennis thought ‘shed’ was a little understated. It was a decent size fixture, cleanly put together with a nice coat of black paint. Dennis walked to the slightly ajar door. He lightly knocked, not wanting to startle the man.
“Robby? I just wanted to let you know I was going to start on dinner soon. Are stuffed bell peppers okay?”
“Come in, I want to show you something-and yes!” Robby called back, voice strong and clear.
Dennis carefully stepped inside the shed, looking around curiously. Robby had turned it into some sort of studio. The walls were lined with shelves that carried containers of paint. There were multiple canvases lying around, some finished and others half painted. The smell of acrylic paint was strong in the air. Dennis took note of the cloth covered canvas on the easel in the middle of the room before he shifted his focus to the older man. Robby was sitting at a small work station, watching his reaction. He was fiddling with something in his hand.
“You did all these?” Dennis asked, voice breathy. Upon closer inspection, he noticed various wooden figurines on the desk behind Robby. They had rough outlines, clearly made by hand but charming all the same.
Robby rubbed the back of his neck. He placed the practically carved block of wood he was holding on the desk. “Yeah, it’s kind of a hobby of mine. Picked it up after my therapist told me I needed better ways of ‘expressing myself’.” He used air quotes. He looked away from Dennis. “They’re not any good.”
Dennis picked up a painting that was leaning against a wall. It depicted a stormy night sky. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. This painting of the sky is pretty nice.”
“It’s supposed to be a landscape.” Robby deadpanned.
Dennis widened his eyes, instantly feeling a rush of embarrassment. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”
The older man sighed. “Nope.”
“Then, why are there stars?!” Dennis exclaimed, pointing at the scattered white dots.
“That is meant to be lightning.”
It was silent for a few moments before Dennis began to quietly laugh, getting louder at the disgruntled expression on Robby’s face.“Th-there’s n-no w-way! L-light-” Dennis broke into a fit of laughter, leaning over slightly to breath.
“Ha ha. Laugh it up. This is the first time anyone’s seen my art, you know. You’re hurting my tortured soul.” Robby grumbled, getting up and taking the painting from Dennis’ hands. He looked at it before chuckling himself, shaking his head. “I guess they do kinda look like stars.”
Dennis wiped the tears that accumulated in his eyes, finally ending his laughing fit. He took a deep breath, trying to regulate his breathing. “S-sorry, sorry! I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that. I really needed that. Oh, by the way, I think Trin won’t be home for dinner. She hasn’t responded to my text which means she's either asleep or-” He cut himself off when he looked up at Robby.
The doctor was looking at him, an intense look in his eyes. The gaze caused Dennis to tense, the sudden tension making him freeze. His blue eyes clashed with brown ones. He let his gaze drop to the man’s thin lips, almost covered by the thick beard the man wore. He swallowed. “Robby?”
The man continued to look at him silently for a few moments before blinking rapidly and shaking his head. Robby slightly stepped back, and Dennis realized with a slight jolt that they had gotten close. Too close. Again. Dennis wanted them closer. “Ah, yeah, kid. That’s…fine. Trinity has always been more of a free spirit. So, it’ll just be us tonight?”
Dennis nodded, slowly coming to the same realization. Just the two of them over the dinner table eating food Dennis made.The dining room light low and intimate. Gazing into the other’s eyes while the other spoke. “Yeah, just us.” Dennis replied. He blinked harshly, looking away from the older man. ‘Stupid thoughts, go away.’
A vision popped into Dennis’ head. He was at the edge of a cliff, staring down into the inky abyss below. He saw himself take a step forward before the vision dispersed. He shook his head. He needed to calm down, there was no way he would fall.
--
Dennis huffed, glaring up at the ceiling in frustration. He couldn’t get his mind to calm down, flashes of a certain doctor keeping his mind from quieting. He glanced at his phone, internally groaning at the early hour. Dennis sighed, sitting up on the bed and wincing at the feeling of sweat drying on his skin. The thin fabric of his sleep shirt clung to his damp torso. He had never felt comfortable sleeping shirtless, only doing so if the room temperature called for it. He decided to get a glass of water, keeping his footsteps light so as to not disturb the sleeping household. He wasn’t sure if Trinity had come last night, but didn’t want to risk waking her if she did. He crept down the stairs, careful to watch his step. He started to make his way to the kitchen before stopping, taking in the scene in the living room.
There was Robby, sitting in his recliner, a single light illuminating his figure. He held a small glass in his hand, swirling around brown liquid. A bottle of what Dennis knew was whiskey sat on the table next to him. Dennis remembered his father drinking the same liquid poison.
“Couldn’t sleep?” The man spoke, voice gruff. He stared at the amber alcohol for a moment longer before looking at Dennis, expression pensive.
Dennis stepped into the light, swallowing. He felt nervous, fidgety. Like his body was ready to bolt at any moment. He felt like prey. “Too many thoughts.” Dennis shrugged, feigning nonchalance. His breathing was shallow, as if breathing too hard will break the delicate mood the two created.
Robby gave a grunt of understanding. “Been there, kid. The ER-” He paused, measuring his words. “-it never really leaves you. You’re always thinking of the next trauma, whether or not you’ll be able to save that person.”
“That seems like it’s hard. Is that what keeps you up tonight?” Dennis asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t put much thought into what specialty he would go into. He knew Trinity was interested in emergency medicine and surgery. He figured he’d make a choice once he finished his rotations. He knew each specialty has its drawbacks.
Robby stared at him. “Not tonight, no. Tonight,” The expression on his face turned so severe that Dennis held his breath, waiting on his next words. The man's eyes traced his figures, eyes mapping the curves and angles that made up Dennis. “Tonight I was thinking of something else.” He licked his lips, the saliva slickened flesh glinting in the lowlight. His voice had taken on a lower register. Dennis swallowed again, this time catching the eyes of the older man following the motion. Dennis licked his lips too, Robby once again tracking the action.
“Oh,” Dennis replied, voice small, trapped. Robby got up, downing the rest of the alcohol in a swift gulp. Dennis found himself staring at the mouth again, wondering what it would feel like to kiss the man. Bad thoughts.
“Get some sleep, kid.” Robby said. Dennis inhaled sharply when the man stopped next to him, feeling the doctor’s body heat. He wanted to lean into it, curl into the strong neck. Robby didn't do anything, just letting his presence sink into Dennis. Dennis found they were breathing the same rhythm, both basking in the other’s closeness. Robby lifted a large and squeezed Dennis’ shoulder once, twice, before dropping the hand.
Dennis felt branded.
The man left in the next breath. Dennis looked down, seeing the bulge in his sleep shorts. He was achingly hard, beginning to leak steadily into the fabric. Dennis let out a whimper, wondering where he could go from here. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to summon the cliff vision from earlier. He felt tears well up in his eyes, it was all for naught.
He had already fallen.