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Dennis knew he was being difficult.
The patient sat upright in the bed, fingers worrying the edge of the thin hospital blanket while Robby stood near the computer reviewing discharge paperwork. The room smelled faintly of saline and stale coffee. Somewhere down the hall, a monitor alarm chirped twice before being silenced and was quickly replaced by distant shouting muffled by the doors. Typical chaos for a shift at PTMC.
The patient, an older man recovering from a CHF exacerbation, frowned down at the packet in his lap. “No stairs at all?”
Robby leaned one hip lightly against the counter. “As few as possible for the next week. You overdo it and you'll end up right back here.”
The patient grimaced. “I live on the third floor.”
“And you have nowhere else to stay while you recover?” Robby rubbed the bridge of his nose as the man shook his head. “I strongly encourage that you—”
“Moderation.” Dennis chimed in, cutting him off. “No unnecessary trips up and down the stairs. You should have your food delivered. Make sure anytime you do need to leave, that you have someone with you.”
Robby’s eyes flicked toward him immediately. The patient looked between them with poorly concealed confusion. “So… I’m good to take the stairs if I need?”
Dennis stepped closer to the bed. “The important thing is pacing yourself. Total avoidance isn’t realistic.”
Robby straightened slowly. “That’s not what I said.” Dennis heard the shift in his voice. The silence that followed felt immediate and heavy. The patient shrank slightly into the bed. Robby’s jaw tightened. “Mister Greene, Doctor Whitaker and I will give you a minute to get dressed.”
Robby walked out first. Dennis followed him into the hallway with dread already pooling in his stomach. The doors swung shut behind them. The noise of the emergency department rushed back all at once. Stretchers rattling past. Overhead paging. Nurses laughing somewhere near the station.
Dennis felt his own pulse hammering unevenly beneath his skin as Robby turned toward him sharply. “What the hell was that?”
Dennis crossed his arms, defensive before he even meant to be. “He didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“We didn’t even get to confirm before you buckled.” Robby stepped closer, voice low enough not to carry. “You undermined me in front of a patient.”
Dennis hated the immediate shame that crawled up his neck. “I just think telling him not to use stairs at all is unrealistic.”
“That isn’t the point.” Robby’s eyes locked onto his with frustrating intensity. “At home, you can talk back all you want.” His voice stayed controlled but firm. “But here, I am your attending and you cannot undermine me in front of patients. Understood?”
“Understood.” He muttered. The word sat sourly in his mouth.
He knew he was wrong almost immediately after he opened his mouth in the patient room. He knew exactly what he’d done and why it had been inappropriate. But lately he’d been carrying around this restless, anxious energy beneath his skin that he couldn’t seem to shake. Like his body had quietly decided things were going too well and was simply waiting for something terrible to happen. Things with Robby had become so good it almost frightened him sometimes. Part of him kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Robby to finally realize Dennis was too much work. Too reactive. Too damaged in ways that still surfaced at the worst possible moments.
So instead Dennis had started picking unconsciously at tiny things lately. Mouthing off more. Testing boundaries without meaning to. Like some self-destructive part of him wanted to provoke the inevitable disappointment before it could sneak up on him unexpectedly. And now here they were, Robby staring at him with frustration tightening his face while Dennis stood there feeling simultaneously defensive and deeply ashamed of himself. The worst part was that Robby still looked more disappointed than angry. Dennis almost wished he’d just yelled instead.
“Look, you know I value your opinion on things.” Robby sighed. “But there’s a way to do it without challenging me.”
Dennis swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
“Dennis—”
“No, I know.” His voice sharpened despite himself. He avoided his stare. “I know I shouldn’t have said anything in there.”
Don’t challenge people above you.
Don’t embarrass them.
Don’t provoke them.
And somehow he still kept doing it with Robby anyway. Maybe because some reckless part of him trusted Robby enough to push. Maybe because he still didn’t entirely understand how to exist inside something so safe.
Robby exhaled slowly through his nose. “You’re allowed to disagree with me. But it’s about time and place.”
“I know.”
“Then why can’t you look me in the eye and just own it?”
“I said I was sorry.”
“And I heard you.”
“Then what more do you want from me?” Dennis huffed, finally meeting his gaze again.
Robby’s frustration finally flashed openly across his face. “I want you to stop acting like I’m attacking you every time I correct you.”
Dennis felt heat crawl painfully up his throat. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yes it is. I’ve been noticing it more lately. You’ve been pushing for no reason.” Robby scrubbed a hand down his face roughly before gesturing sharply toward the room behind them. “And then you immediately get defensive and—”
The movement was sudden. Dennis flinched violently before he could stop himself. His shoulders jerked backward hard enough that he nearly stumbled. One hand came up instinctively between them, his entire body recoiling like it had been wired for it. He saw the exact moment that realization hit Robby, the frustration vanishing from his face so quickly it was almost frightening. His hand dropped immediately to his side. Dennis made the mistake of looking directly into his eyes again. Pure, naked heartbreak spread slowly across Robby’s face like Dennis had physically struck him instead.
He felt sick instantly. Humiliation crashed through him so fast his ears rang. He couldn’t breathe. Suddenly he was back in Nebraska with tension thick in the walls and his own body perpetually braced for impact. Back to learning how to read footsteps. Voices. Hands. Back to the unbearable instinct to make himself smaller before somebody else made the choice for him. And now Robby had seen it.
Robby took a tiny step forward carefully enough that it made him feel worse. Dennis immediately stepped back. Robby looked shattered by the movement.
The guilt became unbearable. Dennis would rather Robby had yelled. Would rather he had actually hit him. Anything but that wounded, horrified look on his face. Like Dennis was something fragile, damaged. Like Robby blamed himself for the reaction.
“I’m fine.” Dennis said too quickly.
Robby’s face crumpled further somehow. “I wasn’t going to—”
“I know.” His voice came out strangled. A nurse passed nearby pushing a stretcher and he suddenly became aware of how exposed he felt standing there in the middle of the department with his entire nervous system flayed open.
Robby lowered his voice further. “Hey.”
Dennis couldn’t stand the gentleness. Couldn’t stand the caution creeping into Robby’s posture like he was approaching an injured animal. The shame was suffocating. Because this was the man he loved most in the world, and his first instinct had still been fear. Not because of Robby. Never because of Robby.
Robby reached toward him slowly, still hesitant. Dennis couldn’t take it. “I have to go check on room six.”
“Dennis.”
But he was already backing away.
“Dennis, wait.”
The hurt in Robby’s voice nearly stopped him. Instead Dennis turned sharply and disappeared down the hallway before Robby could see his eyes burning. He was moving blindly through the emergency department with heat crawling under his skin hard enough to make him nauseous. Everything felt too loud. It all pressed against him in ugly distorted waves while his pulse thundered behind his eyes. He yanked the stethoscope from around his neck hard enough that the tubing snapped painfully against his collarbone. The motion earned him a startled glance from Emma, but he ignored it, shoving the stethoscope into the pocket of his scrub jacket with shaking hands.
He could feel people looking at him. Trinity spotted him first from the desk. “Hey.” She pushed off the counter slightly. “You okay?”
“Fine.” The lie came automatically.
She clearly did not believe him. Neither did Mel, whose conversation with Dana visibly stalled as Dennis passed. Even Joy looked up from her charting with concern flickering across her face. Dennis hated every second of it. He shoved through the double doors toward the ambulance bay before anyone could stop him again. His lungs still felt tight, hands still trembling. The fresh air didn't help like he had hoped. He paced once along the side of the building before realizing he had nowhere to go.
So instead he slipped through the side stairwell door and let it slam shut behind him.
The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Somewhere several floors above him, a stairwell door opened and closed again faintly. The concrete steps smelled like dust and industrial cleaner. He sat heavily halfway up the stairs and pressed both palms against his eyes until bursts of color flared behind them.
His chest hurt. The worst part wasn’t even the flinch itself. It was that for one horrible split second, his body had truly believed Robby might hurt him. The man who kissed him sleepy and gentle in the mornings. The man who warmed Dennis’s cold hands between his own without even thinking about it. The man who learned exactly how Dennis liked his coffee after three dates and never once made him ask for it afterward. The man who allowed him to put anything he wanted into the shopping cart without question. The safest thing Dennis had ever known.
He swallowed hard against the burn climbing his throat. Nebraska clung to him in humiliating ways, no matter how many miles he put between himself and that town. No matter how many years passed, some things stayed ingrained in the fiber of his being. The body remembered what the mind desperately wanted to outgrow.
The stairwell door creaked open quietly below him and he stiffened immediately. Footsteps echoed slowly against concrete as if trying not to corner him, which almost made it worse. Robby appeared around the landing a moment later. His expression softened instantly when he spotted Dennis sitting there, folded into himself on the stairs.
“Hey.” His smile didn't meet his eyes.
Dennis looked away. Robby stayed near the bottom of the staircase instead of approaching immediately. God, Dennis hated how considerate he was. How patient he was with him specifically, more so than anyone else in their circle.
“I’m sorry.” He muttered hoarsely before Robby could say anything.
Robby frowned immediately. “Den.”
“I shouldn’t have run off.”
“That’s not really what I’m worried about.”
“Yeah. I know.” Dennis laughed once under his breath. Silence stretched inside the cramped stairwell. Finally Robby sat down several steps beneath him. Not too close but close enough. Dennis stared at the opposite wall. He sucked in a breath before speaking. “I didn’t think you were gonna hit me.”
“I know.”
“You looked like you thought I did.” Dennis closed his eyes briefly.
It was easier to flee than stand there long enough to explain that sometimes his body still remembered things his mind no longer believed. Easier to disappear than admit how badly Nebraska still clung to him in ugly reflexes and old instincts.
But Robby deserved the explanation anyway. Deserved to know the flinch had never been about him.
“He used to get angry fast. My dad.” He rubbed his damp palms against his scrub pants. The word felt complicated in his mouth. Father never seemed right either.
“He was big on corporal punishment.” He forced out a weak smile that held no humor whatsoever. “Said if you wanted to make boys into real men, you had to treat them like real men.”
Robby’s face darkened immediately as he listened quietly.
Dennis continued before he could stop himself. “One time, when I was twelve, I messed up fixing one of the fences on the farm.” His voice flattened strangely with memory. “I left one of the gates unsecured, and one of the horses got loose.”
He could still remember the panic. The sinking feeling in his stomach watching his father storm across the field toward him. “I tried to explain it was an accident.”
Robby’s expression had gone utterly still as he listened intently, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“He grabbed me by the arm to drag me back toward the barn and…” He flexed his fingers unconsciously. “He twisted too hard. Broke my wrist.”
Robby inhaled sharply through his nose.
Dennis stared down at his own hands. “He felt bad afterward.”
“Dennis.”
“He didn’t mean to break it.” Dennis rushed the words out instinctively. “He just wanted to teach me a lesson about messing up on the farm.”
Robby looked sick. “That’s horrible.”
“He loved Proverbs 13:24.” His voice took on the old cadence automatically. “‘Whoever spares the rod hates their children, but the one who loves their children is careful to discipline them.’”
“You were twelve.” Anger flashed hot across Robby’s face. “A child. I don’t give a fuck what the Bible says.”
“Yeah.” Dennis looked down at the stairs between his feet. “But sometimes…” He hesitated. “Sometimes I understood why I got punished. I mean, I really did mess things up sometimes.”
“Dennis, no.”
“But other times…” His voice thinned. “Other times I didn’t really know what I’d done wrong.”
Memories flickered ugly and fast behind his eyes. The wrong tone. The wrong posture. Too emotional. Too soft. Or maybe simply existing incorrectly from the start.
“I never fought back.” Shame curled thickly in his stomach. “Matthew 5:39. ‘If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.’”
“You shouldn’t have needed to defend yourself. Nothing you did should’ve warranted physical punishment.”
Dennis rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “I think eventually it stopped being about what I did. And more about who I was.”
The silence afterward felt heavy enough to collapse under. Robby understood immediately, Dennis could see it in his face. He stared hard at the concrete wall across from them.
“The older I got, the worse it became whenever I…” He swallowed. “Demonstrated homosexual tendencies.” The phrase sounded grotesque now. Clinical and cruel. But it was exactly how his father used to say it. Like Dennis was diseased. “He thought he could beat the sin out of me. A lot of people did.”
Robby closed his eyes briefly like the sentence physically hurt to hear.
Dennis laughed quietly again, fractured around the edges. “The worst part is I believed it for a while. I thought maybe I deserved it.” Dennis’s throat burned violently now. “That they were all just following God’s will and I just…” He shook his head weakly. “Needed to repent hard enough.”
Romans 12:14.
Bless those who persecute you.
Bless and do not curse.
Dennis had spent years trying to make himself smaller and quieter and holier in hopes that God would finally fix him. All it had done was hollow him out.
Robby’s voice came low and fierce. “No one should ever lay hands on you. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”
Dennis’s eyes stung immediately.
“Den, look at me.” Robby said softly. “You know I would never hit you, right?”
Dennis forced his mouth into something teasing. “Even if I asked nicely?” He wiggled his eyebrows weakly.
Robby didn’t smile. “Stop deflecting. I’m being serious.”
That broke something quietly inside Dennis. “I know.” He whispered. He looked away quickly before the tears gathering in his eyes could spill over.
Robby shifted slightly beside him, then stopped himself. “Can I—”
Dennis barked out a dark laugh. “Yes.” He scrubbed quickly at his face. “I’m not weak, Robby. I won’t break.”
“I know you’re not weak.” Robby moved then, one arm wrapping around Dennis’s shoulders like he was handling something precious. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
Dennis curled instinctively into Robby’s side, forehead pressing against his shoulder. And God, there it was. Safety. Immediate and overwhelming. His body slowly unwound despite the lingering adrenaline still poisoning his veins. Robby’s hand settled warmly against the back of his neck. Steady. Gentle. Patient. Nothing like the sick twisted version of love Dennis had been raised on. His body had reacted before his brain could catch up earlier, but this was the truth beneath it. Robby could be trusted. Robby loved him.
He stayed folded against Robby’s side while a large hand moved slowly along the back of his neck in absentminded passes. Just grounding him there, keeping him tethered to the present instead of letting him disappear back to Nebraska again. Robby pressed a brief kiss into his hair. Dennis closed his eyes.
For a moment, he almost forgot they were still in the hospital until the stairwell door burst open. Both of them startled apart slightly as McKay stopped dead on the landing below them. Her eyes bounced between the two of them. Dennis curled into Robby’s side. Robby’s arm still looped protectively around his shoulders. Both of them very obviously emotional. She sighed heavily. “Okay, it would be stupid to say I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Dennis snorted weakly despite himself.
“So I really am sorry for the intrusion.” She pointed toward the door behind her. “But Robby, the universe unfortunately still requires your presence.”
Robby’s face immediately shifted back toward reluctant professionalism, though his hand stayed firmly against Dennis’s shoulder. “What happened?”
“Bus rollover incoming.” She grimaced. “Multiple traumas. Al-Hashimi and Langdon are already prepping rooms.”
Dennis straightened reluctantly, scrubbing again at his face before the emotional residue could betray him any further. “Go.”
Robby tilted his head, forehead worrying.
“I’m okay now. I’ll catch up.” Dennis assured him.
His thumb brushed once against Dennis’s shoulder before he stood. “We’re revisiting this at home.”
Dennis looked away quickly before the fresh wave of emotion could overwhelm him again.
“Take your time, Dennis.” McKay muttered quietly from below them. “We can enjoy the mildew in here for a little longer before helping with this bus business.”
That finally pulled a real laugh out of Dennis. Small and watery, but real. Robby looked visibly relieved to hear it. Then his attending face snapped back into place. “Take another five before you even think about coming back in. Please, don't argue.”
Dennis just nodded. Robby hesitated another second before finally heading down the stairs. McKay stepped aside to let him pass. As soon as the stairwell door slammed shut behind him, the silence returned. Dennis exhaled slowly and leaned his head back against the concrete wall. She remained standing for a moment before lowering herself onto the step a few stairs beneath him. She didn’t crowd him, didn’t interrogate him. He appreciated that more than he could articulate.
“I had a moment.” He offered as if that explained everything.
She nodded once like that told her enough already.
“Old family stuff.” He added quietly. "You know how it is."
There it was, the mom look. He had learned to recognize it over the years. Not pity exactly, but something gentler. Instinctive concern wrapped in patience. The same look that Dana gave him time to time. She leaned her forearms against her knees. “Families can really screw us up.”
He laughed softly under his breath. “That’s one way to put it.”
Down below, the muffled sounds of the trauma team beginning to mobilize filtered faintly through the stairwell walls. The ED moving full speed ahead without them. He rubbed absently at his wrist, an old habit. Her eyes flicked toward the motion briefly but she thankfully didn’t comment on it.
“Harrison’s lucky, you know.” He smiled at her.
Her eyebrows lifted.
“To have such a kickass parent, I mean.”
The compliment clearly caught her off guard. She huffed a soft laugh and shook her head. “I don’t know about kickass.”
Dennis did. He’d seen the photos in her locker. Heard the way she talked about Harrison. Watched her balance impossible hours and impossible emotional weight while still somehow showing up fully for her kid. And for everyone else. She loved fiercely, without cruelty attached to it. Even if she was far from perfect.
Her expression turned thoughtful. “I’m not a perfect parent by any means.” She rubbed tiredly at the back of her neck. “I screw up constantly.”
Dennis highly doubted she’d ever broken a child’s wrist teaching them a lesson, but he stayed quiet.
She gave him a small smile. “I think all you can really do is hope your kid turns out a little less fucked up than you did.”
He huffed out a startled laugh at that.
She shrugged. “Our children hopefully go on to do better.”
“Hopefully.” He echoed. Despite the years it had taken him to leave Nebraska and unlearn its poison, he already had. He was better than his father. Not because he never got angry or defensive or difficult, but because he would never lay a cruel hand on someone. Never use fear as love.
He looked down at his hands, steadier now. “I’m ready to head back in there now.”
The rush of the bus rollover had eventually stabilized into organized chaos. Trauma patients dispersed to surgery or ICU. The adrenaline spike eventually faded into exhaustion. Nurses charted with glazed eyes. Residents scavenged vending machines like raccoons. Dennis felt hollowed out by it all. He peeled off his trauma gown with a grimace before dropping heavily into one of the rolling chairs. Every muscle in his body ached, his brain felt packed with wet cement by the time he began packing up. Trinity stood across the locker room shoving loose supplies back into her bag while muttering under her breath about having to stay late again to catch up on charting.
“You look like shit, Huckleberry.” She informed him casually.
Dennis snorted tiredly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She slung her bag over her shoulder before studying him more carefully. “You wanna come over tonight? Mel’s bringing pizza and wine. We’re gonna watch garbage television and complain about men.”
Under normal circumstances, Dennis would’ve been there before she finished the sentence. Pizza and wine nights at Trinity’s apartment had become sacred over the years. Dennis loved to be included in “girl’s nights”, usually sprawled across the couch stealing everyone’s snacks and pretending he wasn’t emotionally invested in the shows. But tonight the thought of socializing made his chest feel heavy.
He shook his head softly, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck. “I’m wiped. Just gonna head home.”
“Ew.” She pointed at him accusingly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you calling Robby’s place that.”
Dennis laughed quietly despite himself. Neither would he, not completely. Home had never been something soft growing up. Never somewhere he’d run toward. Mostly somewhere he just survived as best as he could. But Robby’s apartment was the closest thing he had to home other than his time living with Trinity. Or being part of the Pitt family.
“My place will always be home too.” She added quietly. “Just so you know.”
Emotion climbed unexpectedly into Dennis’s throat. He smiled at her warmly. “I know. Next time, I’ll be there.”
“You better.” Trinity pointed at him again. “Mel is great, but she pauses the episodes too much.”
“I can respect that.”
“Whatever. Go home and show some respect to yourself, kay?” Then she disappeared out the door before he could answer.
Dennis lingered afterward. Partly because charting still needed finishing, but mostly because he wanted to wait for Robby. He heard the man before he saw him, that familiar steady stride approaching down the hallway.
Robby appeared in the doorway moments later, hair slightly messy from a long day of running his hands through it. Exhaustion lined his face, but the second his eyes landed on Dennis, something there immediately eased. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Robby crossed the room without hesitation and leaned down enough to press a kiss briefly against Dennis’s temple. Dennis melted toward it embarrassingly fast. “You ready to get outta here?”
Dennis just nodded tiredly.
They ordered food on the drive home because neither of them possessed the energy to cook. Dennis stole fries out of Robby’s takeout bag at red lights. By the time they made it upstairs, the apartment smelled faintly like woodsy candles and clean laundry. Familiar and safe. Dennis kicked off his shoes by the door while Robby disappeared into the kitchen for beers.
A few minutes later, they ended up curled together on the couch with cartons spread across the coffee table and some terrible action movie playing quietly in the background neither of them were actually watching. Robby stretched one arm along the back of the couch behind Dennis, who leaned sideways against him automatically. His fingers brushed absentmindedly along Dennis’s shoulder while they ate. He felt himself slowly unwinding beneath the touch despite the lingering exhaustion buried deep in his bones.
“You okay?” Robby asked eventually. Dennis stared down at his beer bottle for a moment, then nodded. Robby hummed softly like he believed him. A comfortable silence settled between them. Dennis could feel Robby watching him occasionally from the corner of his eye. Not scrutinizing, just checking in. Quietly making sure Dennis stayed anchored with him instead of drifting backward into old memories again.
Dennis finally set his beer down with a soft clink. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Pain flickered across Robby’s face instantly. He reached up slowly, deliberately giving Dennis every opportunity to pull away. Instead Dennis leaned into the touch immediately. Robby’s palm settled against his cheek warm and steady. An overwhelming gentleness.
Dennis had spent so much of his life associating touch from men with pain. Discipline. Punishment. Correction. Sin. Even after years away from Nebraska, his body still sometimes braced automatically before affection had time to register.
But Robby touched him like something precious. Always guiding. Always grounding. Always careful with him in ways Dennis still didn’t fully understand how to accept. The softest touch he’d ever felt from a man. He didn’t register that he was crying until a tear trailed down his cheek.
Robby’s expression cracked open, heartbreak and love all tangled together. “Oh, baby.” His thumb stroked slowly beneath his eye, wiping it away.
Dennis leaned forward before he could overthink it, kissing him with exhausted desperation. Robby kissed him back immediately. Every kiss Robby gave him felt intentional. Like he was trying to communicate something beyond words. Dennis climbed into his lap halfway through the kiss without consciously deciding to. Robby’s hands settled automatically at his waist, grounding him there. The familiar solidity of him felt almost overwhelming.
Dennis kissed him harder. Robby responded with a low hum against his mouth before easing the pace back down again carefully when Dennis started breathing too fast. Always taking care of him.
“Easy.” Robby murmured softly against his lips.
Dennis buried his face briefly against Robby’s neck with a shaky exhale. Robby’s hands moved slowly along his back beneath his shirt. Broad palms and his warm skin. Nothing hurried about it. Dennis could’ve cried more from how gentle it felt. Robby tilted his chin up carefully before kissing him again, somehow softer this time.
Dennis pulled back just enough to look at him. Robby’s eyes searched his face, probably checking for lingering panic, lingering shame, anything fraying at the edges. Dennis wondered if Robby even realized how transparent his care was sometimes. How obvious it became in moments like this that loving people was as instinctive to him as breathing.
He brushed his thumb lightly along Robby’s jaw. “I’m okay.”
Robby looked somewhat unconvinced.
Dennis smiled faintly at that. “Really. I am.”
Some of the tightness in Robby’s shoulders finally eased. “C’mere.” He murmured softly.
Dennis went willingly.
He settled against him again, boneless with exhaustion now that the adrenaline had finally drained out of him. Robby’s arms wrapped around him automatically, warm and secure, and Dennis let himself simply exist there for a moment. Robby pressed another kiss into his hair before shifting upright, hands sliding beneath Dennis’s thighs with practiced ease.
“Michael.”
“What?”
“You worked a fourteen-hour shift.”
“And? So did you, technically.”
“You’re tired.”
“You’re not that heavy, babe. Room is right there.” Robby snorted quietly as he stood anyway, lifting Dennis effortlessly. “Are you too tired?”
By way of answering, Dennis instinctively wrapped himself tighter around him as Robby adjusted his grip. The movement felt so natural now, familiar enough that Dennis no longer hesitated before molding himself against Robby completely. One arm around his shoulders. Legs secure around his waist. Robby steadied one hand against the small of his back.
When Robby eventually carried him toward the bedroom, they barely made it three steps into the room before Dennis twisted slightly in his arms, looking back toward the living room with immediate concern already pinching at his expression. “Wait, the takeout containers are still out.”
Robby smiled against the side of his head before carefully setting him down beside the bed. “I know.”
“They’re gonna smell by morning.”
“Mhm.”
“Eventually we’re gonna get bugs.”
Robby reached up and hooked gentle fingers beneath Dennis’s jaw, guiding his attention back toward him before the spiral could fully take hold. “I’ll take care of it.” He brushed his thumb softly across Dennis’s cheek. “I’ll toss the containers. Throw out the trash. Wipe down the coffee table too, if that’ll help you stop thinking about it.”
Robby knew him too well now. Knew the way Dennis’s brain latched onto tiny practical details whenever he felt emotionally overwhelmed. Knew how anxiety crept sideways into things like dishes left out overnight or unlocked doors or unanswered texts. Something inside him loosened further. He reached up automatically, fingers catching lightly in the collar of Robby’s t-shirt. He took in the exhaustion softening the edges of Robby’s face. At the quiet patience in his eyes. The way his hands never stopped touching Dennis once he sensed he needed reassurance.
Robby leaned forward, kissing him slowly enough that Dennis could feel the warmth of his breath before their mouths fully met. The kiss deepened gradually, unhurried and impossibly tender, and Dennis melted into it with a quiet sound he didn’t mean to make. Robby smiled faintly against his mouth at the noise.
Every touch from Robby felt deliberate. Careful. Like he was constantly checking for reactions Dennis himself hadn’t noticed yet. Dennis let Robby pull the scrub top over his head before immediately reaching for Robby’s own shirt in return. His fingers brushed over warm skin and solid muscle as the fabric disappeared onto the floor beside his own. Broad shoulders. Soft chest hair. The strength in his arms made gentle by the way he used them.
“You still with me?” Robby asked softly.
Dennis nodded immediately. He reached up and slid both arms around his neck. “I’m here.”
Robby kissed him deeper then, one hand settling firmly at the small of Dennis’s back while the other cradled the side of his jaw. He leaned down slowly, kissing along Dennis’s jaw, then lower beneath his ear, warm lips lingering against sensitive skin long enough to pull a soft breath from him. Dennis’s eyes fluttered shut. Robby’s hand moved steadily over his body, never rushing, every touch patient enough to let Dennis absorb it fully. Fingers tracing his ribs. His stomach. The curve of his waist.
He tugged gently at the drawstring of Dennis’s scrub pants, pausing long enough for Dennis to nod before easing them slowly down his legs. His gaze stayed warm and open the entire time, and Dennis felt heat pool low in his stomach under that look alone.
“I love you.” Robby murmured quietly.
“Love you too.” Dennis reached for him again impatiently, fingers catching against Robby’s shoulders as he pulled him down even more. He needed the weight of him closer, needed the grounding pressure of Robby stretched over him. Robby went willingly, settling carefully between his legs while supporting most of his own weight so Dennis never felt pinned.
The room stayed warm and dim around them while Robby moved slowly over his body, never hurrying past reactions, never taking more than Dennis willingly gave him. Robby’s hands explored him with familiar reverence, palms smoothing over his hips and thighs while his mouth wandered lower across Dennis’s throat.
It always overwhelmed him a little, the way Robby touched him. Not like something fragile, but something valuable. Like every inch of Dennis mattered. Robby kissed down the center of his chest slowly, broad hands anchoring against Dennis’s waist while Dennis’s fingers threaded helplessly through his hair. Heat pooled low and heavy in his stomach with every drag of warm lips across his skin.
“Tell me if you need anything.” Robby murmured against him.
Dennis let out a weak laugh. “You already know everything I need.”
Robby smiled against his skin at that. “Still like hearing you say it.”
Dennis had spent years learning how to disappear inside himself during intimacy. How to stay quiet. How to endure touch instead of actually existing inside it. Robby had patiently dismantled that survival instinct piece by piece.
Dennis’s pulse jumped hard beneath his skin when Robby looked back up at him. Those steady brown eyes always softened during moments like this, all tenderness and focus and devastating affection. Dennis dragged him back up into another kiss before the look could completely wreck him. The kiss deepened immediately, slower now but heavier somehow, all quiet need and familiar intimacy. Robby settled more fully between Dennis’s legs, careful even in closeness, supporting his weight instinctively so Dennis never felt trapped beneath him. Dennis wrapped himself around him without hesitation.
Robby’s hands remained steady on him the entire time, grounding him through every breathless moment, every devoted thrust, every quiet sound Dennis failed to suppress into his mouth. When Robby finally pressed his forehead against Dennis’s afterward, both of them breathing hard and tangled together beneath the sheets, Dennis felt wrung out in the best possible way. Loved so thoroughly it almost hurt.
Robby kissed him once more, soft and lingering. “How are you feeling?”
Dennis let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. “I could probably eat more fries.”
That earned him a tired snort from Robby. “How about some water?”
Dennis smiled lazily against his mouth before immediately tightening his arms when Robby started to pull away. “No. Don’t leave.”
“I’m not leaving.” Robby brushed sweaty curls back from Dennis’s forehead. “I’m cleaning up the living room before you start thinking about bugs again. Then coming back with some water.”
Dennis groaned weakly into the pillow. “Okay…”
Robby kissed his forehead before climbing carefully out of bed. Dennis watched him disappear into the hallway wearing nothing, broad shoulders disappearing into the dim apartment lighting. Domesticity had no business being so attractive. A few minutes later Dennis heard cabinets opening faintly. Running water. The soft clink of bottles against the sink. Dennis lay half-buried in blankets feeling strangely emotional about takeout containers. Nebraska really had done a number on him.
Robby returned with a glass of water in one hand. Dennis pushed himself up against the headboard as Robby sat carefully beside him again. “Drink.”
Dennis accepted the glass obediently, but before letting go, Robby turned his wrist gently and pressed a kiss against the inside of it. Right over the old ache buried deep in bone memory. Tender enough to make Dennis’s throat tighten. Robby looked up at him afterward with soft concern still lingering beneath the surface. Dennis drank the water quickly mostly so he wouldn’t cry again.
“Shower?” Robby asked quietly once the glass was empty.
Dennis immediately pictured warm water and Robby’s hands smoothing soap across his skin and nearly nodded too fast. Robby smiled knowingly.
The bathroom filled quickly with steam once the water started running. Warm air curled around them while Dennis leaned sleepily against the counter waiting for the temperature to settle. Robby stepped behind him and slid both hands slowly along his waist. Dennis relaxed backward into his chest with a soft sigh.
“Tired now?” Robby murmured near his ear.
“Mhm.”
“You did good today.”
Dennis frowned faintly. “Debatable.”
Robby turned him gently in his arms. “No.” His voice stayed calm and certain. “You had a hard day, but you got through it. That matters.”
Dennis looked down briefly, unable to fully hold the intensity of his gaze. Robby tipped his chin back up almost immediately. “No hiding.”
Robby washed him carefully beneath the spray, soap sliding over Dennis’s skin while steam blurred the edges of the room around them. His hands stayed broad and steady against Dennis’s body, working shampoo gently through his curls before massaging along the back of his neck. Dennis nearly melted outright.
The water beat softly against the tile while Robby cleaned the lingering sweat from his skin with impossible tenderness. Dennis stood there letting himself be held upright beneath the spray while Robby kissed water droplets from his shoulder between soft touches.
By the time they finally crawled back into bed afterward, both of them smelled like soap and clean skin and home. Dennis curled against Robby immediately beneath the blankets. Robby welcomed it without hesitation, one strong arm wrapped securely around Dennis’s waist while the other settled across his shoulders, pulling him impossibly close against his chest.
Dennis tucked himself beneath Robby’s chin and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Robby pressed a sleepy kiss into his damp curls. “You comfortable there?”
“No.” Dennis mumbled, sarcasm dripping as best as he could in his exhaustion.
Robby snorted softly. “Okay, smartass.”
Dennis smiled faintly against his skin. The apartment was completely quiet around them. No monitors. No overhead pages. No Nebraska ghosts lurking quite so loudly at the edges of his mind. Just the feeling of Robby’s fingers tracing lazy patterns against his spine. The weight of his body wrapped protectively around Dennis’s own. Kindness in action. In patience. In touch. Dennis felt an overwhelming gratefulness that he was one of the few who got experience this side of Robby.
Dennis thought suddenly of Jake and the softness Robby always carried around him too. The easy warmth, the instinctive protectiveness. The way other children naturally gravitated toward him in the ED because they sensed safety there too. The thought settled quietly in Dennis’s chest. Not now, but someday. A family that looked nothing like the one Dennis came from. His fingers curled lightly against Robby’s chest as sleepiness dragged heavily at him. He made a quiet mental note to bring up the topic sometime soon.
Robby tightened his arms around him slightly in his sleep, and Dennis let himself drift off feeling safer than he ever had in his entire life.