Archive of Our Own

Dennis knew things had shifted somewhere between the second and fifth time he found himself back at Robby’s apartment in the same week. He had lost track of how many times he’d been in total since the attending had been back.

At first it had been easy to explain away. Robby had just come back from sabbatical, and there had been that electric, reckless energy the night they went out to celebrate his return. Too many drinks, too much laughter, the kind of eye contact that lingered a second too long until it didn’t feel accidental anymore. Falling into bed together had felt inevitable in that way Dennis usually distrusted but didn’t question at the time. Not with Robby, at least.

It was supposed to stay simple after that. Casual. Convenient. Contained.

But then there were nights when Dennis showed up and Robby was already halfway through cooking them dinner, music low in the background, sleeves pushed up his forearms like he’d been expecting him. Nights where they ate at the small kitchen table instead of the couch, talking about nothing and everything. Patients, stupid hospital politics, but also their unique histories, utterly fascinated with each other’s backgrounds. Nights where the tension existed, sure, but it didn’t have to be acted on.

And sometimes… they didn’t sleep together at all. Those were the nights that unsettled Dennis the most. Because those were the nights that felt the least casual.

They were careful, of course. Almost impressively so. No one at work knew. No one in their shared circles suspected anything beyond proximity and familiarity. And if people looked at them wierd at times, they never said anything out loud. At least not in front of Dennis. He even kept Trinity in the dark, constantly getting an earful of her running narrative that Dennis was spending more time at Amy’s again. Dennis hadn’t corrected her. There was something about keeping Robby separate, tucked away from the rest of his life, that made it feel… fragile. Or maybe sacred. He couldn’t decide which. All he knew was that when Robby smiled at him, soft, unguarded, like he wasn’t performing for anyone, Dennis felt something dangerously close to being chosen. And that was new.

He was still carrying that feeling with him when he got home one afternoon. Lunch had run long as it always did with Robby lately. What started as a quick hookup on their shared day off had turned into an hour and a half of shared food, mock-arguing about medical technique, and Robby absentmindedly tapping his foot against Dennis’s under the table like it was nothing.

Dennis let himself into Trinity and his' apartment, keys jangling softly before the door clicked shut behind him.

“Hey.” Trinity called from the living room. Her tone was off. Not wrong, exactly. Just… edged.

He shrugged off his jacket. “Hey. You’re home early.”

“Yeah.” She said, a beat passing between them. “You got mail.”

That made him pause. “Huh. It's been a while.” He said automatically, already frowning as he stepped further inside. Trinity met him in the hallway, pointing to the envelope on the entryway table. It was already open.

“You opened it?” He asked, more confused than accusatory.

“I didn’t mean to, obviously.” Then, with a tight exhale, she held it out to him. “I thought it was for me.”

He took it, fingers brushing against hers. The paper felt heavier than it should have. The letterhead hit him first. Bold and official: Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. He quickly tore the rest of the letter open, sliding the thick packet of paper out. His eyes skimmed the first few lines, and then slowed. Then stopped. Then went back to the beginning.

He read it again, more carefully this time, like the words might rearrange themselves into something more believable. Trauma surgery. Fellowship. Residency transfer. 

For a moment, the room went completely quiet. Not actually silent, he could still hear the faint hum of the fridge, the distant noise of traffic, but internally, everything stilled in a way that made his chest feel hollow.

“You got it.” She said. It wasn’t a question. 

He swallowed. “Yeah. I—yeah.”

She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Wow. That’s… wow.”

He looked up at her then, really looked. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, shoulders stiff. Her expression was controlled, but he knew her well enough to see the strain underneath it, the slight tension in her jaw, the way her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “I didn’t even know you applied for it.” She added.

“I applied ages ago. Before I heard back about the ED residency.” He said honestly. “Just in case I wasn’t selected to come back to the Pitt. It was kind of a long shot. I just—someone suggested it and I figured, why not.”

“Why not.” She echoed. There it was. Not anger, exactly. Something sharper. Something closer to hurt.

Dennis exhaled slowly, folding the letter in his hands without meaning to. “Trin—”

“No, it’s fine.” She cut in quickly. “Seriously. It’s—” She waved a hand, like she could brush it off. “It’s amazing. It’s a huge deal. I’m happy for you.”

He didn’t doubt that part. That was the problem. “I know you are.” He said quietly.

She laughed again, but this time it cracked a little. “Do you?”

His grip tightened on the paper. “Yeah. I do.”

“You just—you applied to a trauma surgery fellowship like it was nothing. Like it was just something to try out. And you got it.”

He flinched slightly. “I didn’t say it was nothing.”

“You didn’t have to.” She scoffed. “You’ve never wanted surgery like that. Not the way I—” She stopped herself, pressing her lips together.

Dennis felt it land anyway. The comparison. The unfairness of it. “I know you’ve been working toward this.”

“Yeah.” She said, her voice thinning. A tense silence passed between them. Heavy. Familiar. Painfully honest. “I am happy for you.” She said again, more quietly this time. “I mean that. You deserve it. You’re—” She shook her head slightly. “You’re incredible, Dennis. Of course they picked you.”

“But?” He asked.

She hesitated. “But it sucks. It sucks that you got something I’ve been chasing. Especially when you never even seemed sure you wanted it.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing that. “That’s fair.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He said simply. “It is.” Because it was. Because he hadn’t been sure. Even now, standing there with the offer letter in his hands, his chest wasn’t filled with uncomplicated excitement. It was something messier. The only reason he applied was to increase his chances of staying in the same hospital. With his same people. Robby’s face flashed in his mind without permission. His quiet smile, the way he leaned against the kitchen counter earlier, the way he said Dennis’s name like it meant something.

Dennis exhaled. “I really didn’t think it would actually happen.”

Trinity studied him for a long moment. “What are you going to do?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? He looked down at the letter again, the crisp paper now slightly wrinkled from where he’d been gripping it too tightly.

A prestigious fellowship.

A residency transfer.

And somewhere in the back of his mind—

Late dinners. Warm skin.

A man who had somehow become anything but casual.

“I don’t know.” He said honestly. And for the first time since he’d read the words, that felt like the truest thing in the room.

That night, sleep didn’t come easily. Dennis lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, the faint glow of streetlights bleeding through the blinds in thin, uneven stripes. The apartment had settled into that late-night quiet that normally soothed him. Old pipes ticking softly, the occasional car passing outside, but his mind refused to settle. He shifted onto his side. Then onto his other side. Then back again. It didn’t help. Every time he closed his eyes, the letter resurfaced. It didn’t feel real. Or maybe it felt too real. He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. Because it wasn’t just about him. This would change everything.

Trinity, for one. Even if she meant what she said, and he believed she did, it didn’t erase the quiet fracture beneath it. The imbalance. The way something they’d always moved through together suddenly felt… uneven. He hated that. Hated being the reason for that. Then there was work. The hospital. The people who had become constants in his life without him realizing how desperatley he needed it. The routines, the rhythms, the familiarity of knowing exactly where he fit. 

And then Robby.

Dennis squeezed his eyes shut. Because whatever this thing between them was, it had roots now. Quiet ones, maybe, but real. It wasn’t just late nights and shared beds anymore. It was dinner multiple times a week. Long, deep, conversations. The way Robby looked at him in the ED when he thought Dennis wasn’t paying attention. The way Dennis had started to look back. Leaving wouldn’t just complicate that. It would end it. Or at least… it would force it into something else. Something distant. Something uncertain. Dennis didn’t want to find out what that looked like. He didn’t want anything to change. Not like this. Not when things had finally, unexpectedly, settled into something that felt… good. Safe, even.

He let out a frustrated breath and pushed himself upright, the sheets shifting around his waist. The decision pressed against his chest, heavy and insistent, like it wouldn’t let him rest until he acknowledged it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

The floor was cold under his feet as he stood, running a hand through his hair before crossing the small room. His tiny desk sat in the corner, cluttered but familiar. And there was the letter, resting on top like it had been waiting for him.

Dennis paused for a moment, just looking at it. Then he reached for it. The paper felt the same as it had earlier. Solid. Unyielding. He unfolded it, eyes scanning the words again, slower this time. As if maybe he’d find something he’d missed. Some hidden clause that would make the decision easier. But it was all the same.

____________________________

Dear Dr. Dennis Whitaker,

It is with great enthusiasm that we offer you a position in the Trauma Surgery Fellowship Program at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center (PTMC).

Your application distinguished itself through outstanding clinical performance, exceptional letters of recommendation, and a demonstrated ability to maintain clarity, leadership, and sound judgment in high-acuity environments. These attributes are fundamental to the practice of trauma surgery, and we are confident that you will excel within our program.

Enclosed you will find additional details regarding grant funding, benefits, and program expectations. We kindly request that you confirm your acceptance of this offer within one week of receiving it to begin the residency transfer. Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact our office.

Warm regards,

Dr. Eileen Shamsi, MD, FACS

Attending General Surgeon and Professor of Surgery

Dr. Emery Walsh, MD, FRCS

Attending Emergency Surgeon and Co-Director of Trauma Surgery Fellowship

____________________________

He let out a quiet breath through his nose. His grip tightened slightly before he folded the papers back along their creases to put them neatly back into the envelope. Then, without letting himself think too hard about it, he opened the desk drawer, hovered for half a second, and tossed it toward the back. It landed with a soft, final sound against the wood. Out of sight. Dennis stared at the open drawer for a moment longer, like he expected the weight of it to disappear just because he couldn’t see it anymore. It didn’t.

He slid the drawer shut. The quiet clicked back into place around him. And when he finally turned back toward his bed, he still knew that sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon.

☆☆☆

After that sleepless night, Dennis had almost convinced himself the letter didn’t exist. It stayed buried in the back of his desk drawer, untouched, like if he didn’t see it, it couldn’t disrupt anything. Life had slipped back into something familiar, long shifts, shared glances across the ED, late nights at Robby’s that blurred into early mornings. And Dennis hadn’t ever brought up the letter.

So it sat. Unopened in his life, even if it was technically already opened. That illusion lasted exactly until the following Thursday afternoon. The ED was busy in that controlled chaos kind of way, monitors beeping, stretchers rolling in and out, voices overlapping but purposeful. Dennis was finishing up notes at the central desk when he heard Trinity’s voice cut through the noise.

“—I’m just saying, it’s kind of insane he hasn’t accepted yet. Little shit.”

Dennis’s fingers stilled over the keyboard. No. She couldn't be— He turned slightly, heart already starting to pound as he caught sight of her standing a few feet away, talking to a small cluster of people. Including Robby.

“Accepted what?” Javadi asked, brows knitting together as she joined the conversation.

Trinity let out a short laugh, like she’d already said too much but wasn’t about to stop now. “The trauma surgery fellowship here. He got the offer last week.”

The words landed like a gunshot in Dennis’s chest. Javadi gaped at her. “That’s not funny.” She said flatly.

“I’m not joking!” Trinity shot back. “He’s just… sitting on it.”

Javadi’s expression shifted into something sharper. “My mother doesn’t ‘just give out’ spots in that program. Neither does Doctor Walsh.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Trinity muttered.

Javadi crossed her arms, glancing over, directly at Dennis now. She winced at him, her eyes apologetic. “No offense…”

Dennis forced something like a shrug, even though his stomach was twisting. “None taken.” 

But it wasn’t Javadi he was worried about. It was the silence next to her. Dennis didn’t look at him right away. He couldn’t. He could feel it, though. That shift in the air, that quiet, focused attention Robby had when he locked onto something.

Trinity, apparently oblivious or past the point of caring, kept going. “I mean, the deadline’s coming up, and he’s just… not deciding. It’s kind of ridiculous.”

“Trin.” Dennis warned under his breath.

But it was far too late. Robby spoke then, his voice cutting in, calm but unmistakably sharp. “He got the surgery fellowship offer?”

There it was. Dennis closed his eyes for half a second before finally turning. Robby was already looking at him. Dennis was struggling to read his expression. Trinity glanced between them, something flickering across her face as she realized. “My bad, I thought you knew.”

Dennis’s jaw tightened.

Robby didn’t look away from him. “I didn’t.”

The noise of the ED seemed to dull around them, like everything else had dropped to the background. Dennis could feel himself slowly, internally, collapsing. He hadn’t wanted this. Not like this. Not here. Not with Robby finding out like it was just another piece of gossip floating around the department. He should’ve told him, he knew that. But knowing it now didn’t fix anything.

Robby didn’t say anything else until later. Of course he didn’t. He waited until the shift slowed, until there was a pocket of space. Until Dennis was alone in one of the quieter hallways. Dennis knew he was there before he even turned around.

“You want to tell me why I had to hear about that from Trinity?” 

Dennis exhaled slowly, already bracing himself. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

Robby’s jaw flexed. “No?”

“It slipped my mind.” It was technically true, but also completely insufficient.

Robby let out a quiet, humorless breath, looking away for a second before dragging a hand down his face. “You got a trauma surgery fellowship offer. In this hospital. And it just slipped your mind?”

Dennis didn’t respond.

“You’ve been going back and forth about it for a week.” Robby continued, voice tightening slightly. “And you didn’t think to mention that to me?”

Dennis swallowed, recalling how he’d been at Robby’s place nearly every day the past week. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

Robby laughed once, sharp as he repeated. “Not relevant.”

There was something off in his expression now. Something Dennis couldn’t quite place at first. Then he saw the hurt in his attending’s eyes. 

“I wrote your recommendation.” Robby said.

Dennis froze. “What?”

Robby met his eyes again, steady and unflinching. “They reached out a while ago, not long after you applied.” A beat. “And I didn’t hold back.”

Dennis’s chest tightened. He had completely forgotten about the several names he had listed on the application. “Oh.” He said, stupidly.

“Yeah.” Robby muttered. “So forgive me if I feel like this is… relevant.”

Dennis didn’t know what to say to that. Because underneath the shock, underneath the sudden clarity of how this had even happened, there was something else. Something warmer, something that brought both comfort and hurt. Robby had seen him. Believed in him. Enough to push him toward something Dennis hadn’t even been sure he wanted. And Dennis had kept him in the dark about it.

“I was trying to—” He started.

“To what?” Robby cut in. “Spare me?”

Dennis’s mouth snapped shut, taken aback. Because that wasn’t it. Not really. “I didn’t think it would matter.” He said finally, quieter now. “Didn’t even think I would get it.”

Robby stared at him. Then something in his expression shifted. Hardened. “That’s the problem.”

Dennis frowned. “What is?”

“You’re treating this like it’s optional.” Robby scoffed. “Like it’s just… something you can take or leave depending on how you feel that day.”

Dennis felt his temper flicker. “It is optional. It’s my decision.”

“Not if you actually care about being a doctor.”

That landed. Hard. Dennis straightened slightly, jaw tightening. “I do care.”

“Then act like it.” Robby said, stepping closer. “You don’t pass up an opportunity like this because it’s inconvenient.”

Dennis’s chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t just frustration. It was everything he wasn’t saying. Everything he couldn’t say. “I’m not passing it up because it’s inconvenient.”

Robby’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Then why?”

Because I love the Pitt. Because I love you. The words sat right there, on the edge of his tongue. He swallowed them down. “Maybe I just don’t want to go.”

Robby let out a quiet breath, something almost pained flashing across his face before he buried it. Like he had read some of Dennis’s thoughts. “Look, Dennis.” He said, softer now, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I enjoy having you around. Inside and outside of the hospital…” A slight pause. “But I won’t let you throw away this opportunity. Not for… this.”

Dennis felt something crack, sharp and sudden. Because he could see it. He could see the conflict in Robby’s eyes, the way they held onto him for just a second too long, the way his expression didn’t quite match the firmness of his words. The way his hand slighlty squeezed him. He wanted Dennis to stay, and he was pushing him away anyway.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself.” Dennis snapped before he could stop himself, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. 

Robby's eyes widened, clearly caught off guard.

“I’m not denying it for you.” Dennis continued, his voice sharper now, defensive in a way that surprised even him. “I like being here—”

“Well being a doctor is not about what you like.” Robby cut in, the edge snapping back into his voice. “Or what you want.” He exhaled sharply, visibly forcing himself to calm down. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t use the extra grant money. And who knows, you might actually like it in the OR.”

Dennis’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “I don’t want to be in the OR.” He gritted out. He felt a swell of embarrassment in his chest, feeling childish as the words left his mouth.

Robby’s gaze hardened. “Too bad.” The finality in that single phrase made something in Dennis’s chest drop. “I suggest you take the offer.” He continued, voice cold now, professional in a way that felt like a deliberate wall. “Quickly. Because after today, you are no longer a resident in my ED.”

Dennis stared at him. For a second, he thought he’d misheard.

But Robby didn’t waver. “And this, between us—” He added, quieter but no less firm. “Is done.”

The words echoed. Dennis didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Because if he did, something too real and too painful might come out. Something he wouldn’t be able to take back. So he just stood there. Heart pounding, chest aching. Watching the man he loved walk away.

☆☆☆

One day he was standing in a hallway watching Robby walk away from him, and the next, everything was different without actually going anywhere at all.

That made it worse. Because the fellowship wasn’t across the country. It wasn’t some clean break in a new city where he could rebuild from scratch and pretend none of it had happened. No, it was the same hospital. Same building. Same hallways. Same goddamn elevators. Just different floors. Different badge access. Different expectations. He hadn’t left, not really. Which meant he hadn’t escaped anything either.

The first week, he kept expecting it to feel temporary. Like he was just rotating through. Like he’d finish out the block and drift back into the ED, into his usual spot, into something that made sense again. But the longer it went on, the more permanent it felt. 

His name was on a different board now. His schedule didn’t overlap the same way. People he used to see every shift became occasional sightings. A wave across the hall. A quick “hey” in passing that never turned into anything more because someone always had somewhere to be.

He was still there. Just not with them. And it hurt in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Because he could hear it sometimes. The ED. The controlled chaos. The noise bleeding up through the floors or echoing faintly when he passed by on consults. Laughter. Shouted orders. The rhythm he used to be part of. It was all still happening, just without him.

The fellowship was… everything it promised to be. Dennis was thrown into it almost immediately. Trauma activations, emergency consults, the constant demand. Chaotic, but different than the ED. Fast solutions and even faster hands. And that part? That part, he was good at. Annoyingly good at.

“Nice call.”

“Good hands.”

“Whitaker, you’re a natural.”

He heard it constantly. Attendings, residents, other fellows, even the scrub nurses started saying it like it was obvious, like he’d always belonged in surgery. He learned quickly. Adapted faster. In the OR, his hands didn’t shake. His mind didn’t wander. Everything narrowed into clean, precise focus. 

He excelled. And he hated it.

Not the work itself. Not entirely. It was the distance. The detachment from patients. The way he could scrub out of a case, step into the hallway, and feel like he’d crossed an invisible line back into a life that didn’t quite fit. Because just a few floors down, everything that did fit was still there. Close enough to reach. Close enough to remember. But somehow too far to go back to.

The first time he ran into Robby after the switch, it didn’t feel like a reunion. It felt like a mistake. Dennis had been called down with Garcia for a consult, which was routine enough. Something abdominal, unstable, needed eyes on it. He stepped into the ED like muscle memory, like his body hadn’t caught up to the reality that this wasn’t his space anymore.

And then there was Robby. Same place he always was. Same posture. Same focus. Like nothing had changed, except everything had. Robby looked up mid-sentence and saw him. And just for a second, his entire face lit up. It was quick. Subtle. But it was there, and it hit Dennis harder than it should have. Because it meant something. And it shouldn’t have.

Robby recovered quickly, slipping back into that professional ease like it was second nature. “Surgery’s here.” He said, but his eyes stayed on Dennis just a fraction too long.

Dennis forced himself forward. Forced himself to step into the role he was supposed to play now. Like he hadn’t just walked into a space that used to feel like home. Like he wasn’t standing a few feet away from the person he’d been trying, and failing, to forget.

It became its own kind of torture after that. Not seeing Robby all the time. Just enough. Enough to never get used to it. Enough to never move on. Dennis would get called down with Garcia, step into the ED, and there he’d be. And every single time, Robby looked at him like he was glad he came back. Dennis didn’t understand how he did that. Didn’t understand how he could stand there, talk to him like nothing had been torn apart between them, like they hadn’t ended things in a way that still echoed in Dennis’s chest every time he thought about it.

He tried to keep his distance. Tried to make it clinical. Short answers. Minimal eye contact. But Robby didn’t help. He’d ask questions. Step in closer. Match Dennis’s pace like they were still in sync, like that hadn’t been the thing that made all of this hurt in the first place. The night it boiled over, it came in fast. An elderly woman needed a consult immediatley, unstable, pressure crashing, source unclear. The kind of case that didn’t wait for clean transitions or perfect settings. Dennis was already gloving up by the time he reached the bed, Garcia beside him, Robby across from him giving a rapid rundown.

“She’s not making it upstairs like this.” Robby concluded.

Dennis didn’t hesitate. “Then we don’t take her upstairs yet.”

Robby met his eyes, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Alright then. Let’s work.”

Everything after that snapped into place. Voices overlapped, orders were called, machines beeped in sharp, urgent rhythms. But for Dennis, it all narrowed down to the field in front of him.

“Clamp.”

“Got it.”

“Pressure’s dropping—”

“I see it. Hold—”

Robby moved with him like he always had. No wasted motion. No second-guessing. Anticipating what Dennis needed before he said it out loud, and vice versa. It was seamless, like muscle memory. Like they’d never stopped being whatever they used to be. They found the bleed. Stabilized it just enough. Bought her time. When it was over, when she was stable enough to be moved, the room shifted. The urgency dissolved into something lighter, something relieved.

“Nice work.” Garcia smirked at Dennis. 

“Jesus, that was close.” He panted out. A couple of hands clapped against his shoulder as people reset, stepping back, catching their breath. He barely processed it. His pulse was still high, his hands still tingling faintly from the adrenaline as he stripped off his gloves.

“You have a knack for this, Whitaker.” The words cut through everything. Dennis stilled. Slowly, he looked up. Robby was watching him.

Whitaker.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It was professional. Normal. Correct. But coming from him, it grated. Sharp. Wrong. Like nails on a chalkboard. Dennis’s jaw tightened.

Because he didn’t want to be Whitaker. Not with him. He wanted to be Dennis again. Wanted the way his name used to sound, low, warm, softened at the edges in the quiet of Robby’s home. Wanted the half-mumbled pet names whispered in his ear while they were in bed together, moving just as in sync as they did when they were working together. But he couldn’t always get what he wanted, Robby made that clear.

“Let’s move.” Garcia said, already guiding the gurney toward the doors. Dennis nodded once. He didn’t respond to Robby. Didn’t even look at him again. He just turned and fell into step beside Garcia, hands steady on the rail as they pushed the patient out of the ED. Back toward the elevators. Back toward the surgery floor. Away from him.

Behind him, he could feel it.  Robby’s gaze, lingering. Dennis kept walking anyway.

By the time Dennis got home that day, he felt like he was holding himself together with sheer force. The adrenaline from earlier had long since burned off, leaving behind something utterly overwhelming. The kind of exhaustion that settled into his bones and refused to move.

He let himself into the apartment, the familiar creak of the door sounding louder than usual in the silence. Trinity was already there, sprawled across the couch in sweats, a bowl of something balanced on her stomach. She glanced up as he walked in.

“Hey, Huck.” She said easily. “How was the OR today?”

The nickname hit him wrong. Not because of her, but because of everything else. Dennis didn’t answer right away. He just toed off his shoes, dropped his bag by the door, and stood there for a second like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Trinity’s brows pulled together slightly. “Dennis?”

That did it. Something in his chest gave way all at once. “It sucks.” He said, his voice breaking before he could stop it.

Trinity sat up immediately, the bowl forgotten as she set it aside. “Hey, what—”

“It just—” He let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand down his face, but it didn’t help. “This whole thing sucks.”

And then, before he could rein it in, he cracked. He dropped down onto the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees as he pressed his hands to his face. The tears came fast, messy, unchecked in a way that surprised even him.

“I shouldn’t even be there.” He said roughly. “I didn’t even want it. Not like you did.”

“Dennis—”

“No, I mean it.” He cut in, looking up at her, eyes glassy and frustrated. “You’ve been working toward this for so long. You earned it. And I just—what? Applied on a whim and now I’m there?” He let out a humorless laugh. “It’s a joke.”

“It’s not a joke.” She said firmly.

“It feels like one!” He shot back. “You can have it. Honestly. The grant money, the funding. Take all of it, I don’t care. I don’t even want—”

He stopped himself, but it was too late. Because the real reason was already pushing its way up, clawing at his throat.

Her expression softened, but her eyes sharpened. “This isn’t just about the fellowship, is it?”

He shook his head immediately. “No, it is—”

“It’s not.” She said, quieter now. “So what is it?”

Dennis looked away. And for a second, it seemed like he might shut down again, pull it back, bury it where he’d been keeping everything else. But he didn’t.

“Everything is fucked now. He doesn’t want me back in the ED.” He said instead, his voice smaller now. “I messed it up.”

Trinity frowned, immediately jumping to the most logical conclusion she had. “With Robby?”

He nodded.

She exhaled, leaning forward a bit. “Okay, so… what, you argued? Was he upset about the fellowship? I'm really sorry I blew up your spot there, but that’s not—” She waved a hand. “That’s not something you can’t fix. He still respects you. I mean, he still talks about you like you’re one of his best residents.”

Dennis let out a hollow laugh. “That’s… only part of it.”

She gave him an odd look, thrown off by his tone. “What do you mean part of it?”

He rubbed his hands over his face again, dragging them down slowly like he was trying to buy himself time. “My—” He hesitated, then forced it out. “My relationship with Robby.”

The confusion on her face sharpened instantly. “Your… relationship.” She repeated. Then it clicked. And her entire expression changed. “Wait.” She gasped, sitting up straighter. “Dennis… you were—” She lowered her voice to a hiss. “You were involved with him?”

He nodded once.

Her eyes widened. “Like—”

“Yeah.” He said, cutting her off before she could finish. “Like that.”

For a second, she just stared at him. Processing. Reprocessing. “You were hooking up with an attending? With Robby?”

“It started like that.” He admitted. “After he got back. It was casual.”

“And then it wasn’t?” She guessed.

He shook his head. “No.”

The weight of that hung there. Trinity leaned back slightly, still staring at him like she was seeing a completely different version of him. “Okay. Okay—hold on.” She held up a hand, grounding herself. “I need to ask… was it consensual?”

That made him huff out a broken laugh. “Yes. God, yes. It wasn’t like that.”

“Okay.” She said quickly. “Okay, good. I just had to make sure.” She studied him again, more carefully this time. “Wow, I didn’t know you had it in you, Huckleberry. And you’re… done now?”

Dennis swallowed. “He ended it.”

“Because of the fellowship?”

“Because he didn’t want me to turn it down because of him.” Dennis said, the words tight. “Which I wasn’t—” He stopped, jaw clenching. “Not just because of him.”

Trinity’s eyes narrowed slightly. “But partially because of him.” Dennis didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. She exhaled, rubbing her temples lightly. “Jesus. And you’re telling me this now? Because you’re still, what? Hung up on him?”

“I’m in love with him.”

She went still at the forcefulness of it. “Oh.”

He looked down at his hands, fingers curling slightly like he didn’t know what to do with them. “Yeah.”

She watched him for a long moment, something softening in her expression now despite the shock. “That’s… a lot.”

“No kidding.”

She hesitated, then leaned forward again. “You know you don’t have to stay in the fellowship, right? If you hate it that much, you could just transfer back.”

Dennis shook his head immediately. “Not there. Not with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he won’t let me.” He said flatly.

She frowned. “He can’t be the only one who controls that.”

“No.” He said. “But he’ll make it impossible anyway.” In more than one way.

She studied him, like she wanted to argue but wasn’t sure how. The room fell quiet for a long time. Dennis wasn’t sure how long he stayed silent, his mind racing through all of his miserable thoughts and feelings. 

“Did Garcia say anything about me?”

Dennis blinked. “What?”

Trinity shrugged, trying and failing to look casual. “I know you work with her a lot. Just wondering.”

It was so abrupt. So completely her. Dennis let out a small, surprised laugh despite everything. “Seriously?”

“What?” She said defensively. “I’m allowed to be curious. You’re not the only one in a rocky relationship with an older coworker.”

He shook his head, a faint smile finally breaking through. “No. She didn’t.”

She groaned, flopping back against the couch. “Rude.”

He let out another small, strained laugh at her reaction, the tension in his chest easing just enough to breathe again. For a moment, the apartment felt normal. Familiar. Like something he could come back to.

Trinity watched him for a second longer, the earlier shock still lingering at the edges of her expression. Then her demeanor shifted, subtle, but deliberate. The humor faded. Her posture straightened, and the teasing tone she’d just used softened into something steadier.

“Hey.” She said gently. Dennis looked up at her. She leaned forward on the couch, resting her forearms on her knees as she studied him. “You’re gonna be okay.”

He huffed faintly, shaking his head. “I don’t know about that.”

“You are.” She said again, more firmly this time. “You’re just… overwhelmed. And pissed. And sad. All at once.” She exhaled slowly, then reached out and nudged his shoulder lightly. “For what it’s worth… the Pitt didn’t forget you. The whole ED. The team. You think people just move on like that?” A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “We miss you down there.”

Dennis looked down, something tight pulling in his chest again. Softer. Less sharp.

“And Robby…” She added, watching his reaction carefully. That got his attention. “He talks about you.”

“What?”

“All the time.” She added. “Not in a weird way. Well, maybe a little weird now, but you know what I mean.” She waved a hand. “Like, professional stuff. He boasts.”

He frowned. “He doesn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, he does.” She said simply. “Your name comes up. A lot. ‘My resident this, my resident that. Dennis this, Whitaker that.” She mimicked a low, clipped tone that was clearly meant to resemble Robby, though it softened quickly back into her own voice. “He was… proud. Still is, probably.”

Dennis looked away, jaw tightening slightly. That part was harder to reconcile than he expected. Because it didn’t fit neatly with the way things had ended. Or maybe it did. Maybe that was the problem.

“He never shuts up about how his star resident got selected for that fellowship.” She added. She tilted her head, studying him again. Then her expression shifted into something sharp again, protective.

“You know.” She said, tone changing just slightly. “If you want me to, I will absolutely wring his neck.”

He barked out a surprised laugh, the sound breaking some of the heaviness in the room. “Trin—no.”

“I’m serious.” She said, pointing at him. “I will go down there and have words.”

“Please don’t threaten our attending.” He scolded, though there was a faint trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Your ex-attending.” She corrected, raising a brow.

He winced slightly at that. She softened again almost immediately. “I’m kidding.” She nudged his shoulder again, gentler this time. “Mostly.”

He shook his head, but the small smile lingered. She leaned back into the couch, then glanced at him more quietly. “You don’t have to go through this like it’s something you deserve to suffer through alone. You’ve got people. Even if things are… complicated right now.”

Dennis exhaled slowly, the words settling over him. Complicated. Yeah, that was one way to put it. He nodded faintly, not trusting his voice just yet. And for the first time since he’d walked through the door, the weight in his chest didn’t feel quite as heavy. Trinity wordlessly handed him the bowl again, what he could now register as popcorn mixed with chocolate candy pieces. He settled back with her as she resumed her reality show, letting himself get lost in the drama of someone else. 

☆☆☆

By the time Dennis hit the one-month mark in the fellowship, the surgery floor had formed a new opinion about him. Not the one written in evaluations, those were glowing.

Whitaker demonstrates excellent clinical judgment.
Technically strong.
Operates well under pressure.

No, the reputation that circulated among the surgical residents was simpler.

Whitaker looks miserable.

He wasn’t exactly hiding it. He did the work. He showed up early. Stayed late. His hands were steady, his decisions sharp, his consult notes clean and precise. But there was no life in it. No spark. He moved through the surgery floor like someone performing a job he knew he was good at but didn’t actually want.

Garcia noticed. Of course she noticed. Garcia noticed everything. Which was unfortunate for Dennis, because Garcia didn’t believe in letting things sit.

She cornered him after a case one afternoon. Dennis had just scrubbed out of a procedure with Park and was halfway through tying his coat when he stepped into the hallway outside the locker rooms. Garcia was leaning against the wall. Waiting.

Dennis stopped short. “…Hi.”

She looked him up and down. “You’ve been moping.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have not.”

“For an entire month.”

“I’m still adjusting.”

“You look like someone kicked your dog.”

“That’s a little dark, even for you.” He exhaled through his nose and tried to walk past her.

She pushed off the wall and stepped in his path. “Whitaker.”

He groaned softly. “Garcia.”

“You clearly hate it here.” She prodded. He opened his mouth to argue. Then closed it again. She raised a brow. “That’s not a denial.”

“I miss the ED, okay?” He said finally.

She nodded like she’d expected that. “Okay. That’s one thing.”

“One thing?” Dennis muttered.

“Yeah.” She said. “There’s clearly more.”

He hesitated. He didn’t want to unpack everything in a hallway. But Garcia had that look, the one that meant she wasn’t going anywhere until he did. “Doctor Shamsi and Doctor Walsh are never around. They are always busy, and we have to do the grunt work.”

“Not shit.” She huffed. “What else?”

“Park is insufferable.” 

She snorted. “Okay, that one’s valid.”

“He acts like everyone around him is an idiot.” He continued, the frustration creeping into his voice now that he’d started. “And the way he talks to residents—”

“Park the Shark has always been an ass.” She cut in. “You’ll survive.”

Dennis scowled. “And you know what else?” He added, turning slightly toward her. “I’m still mad at you.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“July fourth.”

She blinked again. Then she groaned. “Oh my god. Trinity?”

“Yes, Trinity.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Dude, we had an agreement. We were casual. That was the whole point. She caught feelings, obviously.” The way she said it wasn’t defensive. Just factual. “And that sucked. I didn’t want to hurt her. But we were clear from the start.”

She shot him an annoyed look. “You’re loyal, I get it.” Then she straightened again, looking at him more seriously. “Alright, now that we’ve cleared up your protective brother routine, let’s talk about the actual problem.”

Dennis groaned softly. “I told you the problem.”

“No.” You deflected with my casual relationships.” He looked away slightly. Because the word casual was doing something uncomfortable in his chest. She watched him closely. “You’re making a face.”

“I’m not.”

“You absolutely are.”

He sighed. “It just…” He shook his head. “Feels familiar.”

Garcia tilted her head. “How so?”

He wasn’t going to say Robby’s name. Not directly. But the thought had already formed. “Trinity thought she could keep it casual. Until she couldn’t.”

She studied him carefully now. “And you?”

“It wasn’t casual.” He admitted.

Her brow lifted slightly. “Oh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “At least… not for me.”

She didn’t press. But her eyes sharpened in that quiet, observant way she had. “And for him?” 

She knows. “He never treated it like it was casual.”

Her expression shifted slightly. Interest. Understanding. She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

They stood there for a moment. Then she changed tactics. “So, what do you miss about the ED?”

Dennis frowned.

“You said you miss it.” She pushed. “Be specific.”

“Everything.”

“That’s not specific.” She crossed her arms, watching him carefully. “Come on, Whitaker. Indulge me.”

He thought about it. “The noise. The pace.” He added. “The way everything moves. The teamwork.”

She tilted her head. “Go on.”

“And…” He hesitated. Garcia waited. “…The people.”

She smiled faintly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Dennis huffed quietly. She studied him for a moment longer. “And one person in particular?”

Dennis didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. 

“You know something?” She sighed softly. “Every time we get called down there for a consult…”

He tensed slightly.

“…Robby lights up when he sees you.” She shrugged. “He barely even acknowledges me anymore. But you? Whole different story.”

He swallowed. “You’re imagining things.”

She laughed under her breath. “I’m really not though, am I?” The hallway fell quiet. “You belong down there.”

“You’re a surgeon telling me that.”

“I’m a doctor telling you that.” She corrected. “Go back to the ED.”

“I can’t just go back.” He huffed. “Robby is convinced I need to stick with the fellowship.”

“Fuck the fellowship.” She stepped closer. “You know what the difference is between the OR and the ED?”

“What?”

“In the OR, you’re good. Great, even.”

Dennis grimaced, the compliment sounding weird coming from her. “And in the ED?”

Garcia smiled slightly. “You’re alive.”

☆☆☆

The rest of the day dragged. Dennis finished his cases. Wrote his notes. Nodded through two briefings he barely processed. His hands moved on autopilot while his brain replayed Garcia’s words over and over.

You belong down there. You’re alive.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to focus on the monitors, the surgical checklists, the rhythm of the OR. It didn’t work. Because every time the elevator doors opened on the trauma floor… he could hear it. The ED. The noise. The movement. The life of it. And by the time his shift wound down, the pressure in his chest had built to something he couldn’t ignore anymore. So he stopped pretending. He stripped off his coat, shoved it into his locker, and headed for the elevators.

Down.

The ED was loud when he stepped through the doors. A trauma alert had just cleared. Nurses were resetting rooms, someone was arguing with radiology over the phone, and a patient monitor was chirping in the distance. It sounded like home.

A few people noticed him right away. “Hey, Whitaker!” Donnie caught him exiting.

He nodded back automatically, barely slowing as he scanned the floor. He found Robby near the central desk. He was leaning over a chart, sleeves rolled up, talking quietly with Dana. 

“Look who it is.” She smiled at him, drawing Robby’s attention to him. When he looked up and spotted Dennis standing there, the reaction was immediate. That same flicker. The one Garcia had mentioned. The one he noticed.

Dennis smiled at her as he approached before stopping in front of Robby. “Can I talk to you? Privately?” 

Robby hesitated only a moment, looking to the side at Dana, who raised her brows, before nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”

They moved quickly, slipping into the hallway of the stairwell. The doors clicked shut behind them, muting the chaos of the department. For a second, neither of them spoke. Dennis could feel his pulse in his ears. “Listen, Robby. I know you don’t want me back in the Pitt—”

“Woah.” Robby cut in immediately. “It’s not that I don’t want you back—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dennis said quickly, lifting a hand. “I get it. You think you’re doing me some grand favor by forcing me to take this opportunity.” He exhaled sharply. “Let me finish, please.”

Robby went quiet.

“I appreciate that you want this for me.” He continued. “I do. But it is killing my passion for coming to work every day.” He swallowed, forcing himself to hold Robby’s gaze. “And then having to see you and pretend like it means nothing…” The words came out rough. “...so I’m considering leaving.”

“What?” Robby’s eyes widened like he couldn’t believe his ears.

“Ideally I’d like to stay in the area, if possible. But I’m going to apply for residency at some other Emergency Departments.” Dennis said. “At whatever hospitals are available.”

Robby stared at him. “You want to leave PTMC?”

“Of course not!” Dennis said quickly. “But you made it very clear that I can’t always get what I want.” The bitterness slipped out before he could soften it. He winced slightly. “I’m just… trying to figure things out.”

Robby’s expression hardened. “You’re running away.”

Dennis’s temper snapped. “Am I?” He shot back. “Or are you?”

Robby frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You want me, Robby.” Dennis said, the words coming faster now. “I know you want me. I can see it. But you’re too much of a coward to face it, so you’re pushing me away.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“If anyone is running here, it’s you.” He hissed. “At least grow a pair and tell me to my face.”

“Tell you what, exactly?”

“That I can’t stay here. That you need me to leave.”

“Dennis—” Robby let out a short laugh that sounded almost hysterical. “Maybe I do need you to leave.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Dennis hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected the way the sound of his own name made him buzz.

Robby looked away, his voice quieter now. “If you left, it would make my life a hell of a lot easier.” He swallowed. “Seeing you… then not seeing you… it doesn’t mean nothing to me. It fucking kills me inside. You have to know that.”

Dennis’s chest tightened.

“Den, this can’t work between us. You deserve more than this.”

Dennis let out a tired breath. “You know, I’m getting really tired of you trying to decide what is best for me.”

Robby’s jaw flexed.

“You thought breaking things off with me would make things easier. It didn’t. You thought forcing me up to surgery was best, you were wrong.” His voice cracked slightly. “I hate it.” He took a step closer. “So don’t stand here and hope that third time’s the charm.”

Robby shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into with me.”

“You trusted me enough to be a doctor in your ED.” Dennis said quietly. “But you don’t trust me enough to know who I want to date?”

“You don’t want to date me, Dennis.”

Dennis frowned. “Why is that?”

“Because you don’t even know me!” Robby barked. But Dennis could see the hurt in his eyes. “That’s why you shouldn't come back. I’m no good for you.” He added, quieter. “It’s better that you learn that now.”

Dennis shook his head. “You’ve been nothing but good to me.”

“I’m your boss, your mentor, and I brought you into my bed.” He scowled like he was disgusted with himself.

“Oh please.” Dennis scoffed. “I practically had to beg you.”

“Still—”

“Michael.” The single word cut him off. Dennis took a breath. “I know you.”

Robby looked up.

“You can pretend we were just sleeping together.” Dennis continued, voice steady now. “But we both know it was more than that. What about the nights when you didn’t even touch me? The nights we stayed up watching your favorite movies I’d never seen before. Or the times we just had dinner and talked over that shitty beer you like.”

A faint color crept into Robby’s face, but he said nothing.

“You told me so many stories.” Dennis went on. “About your grandmother. What you remember about your parents. Your med school days.” He shook his head. “I know the little things, too. Your favorite food, color, season, songs. Don’t even get me started on your sports teams.”

Robby continued to stare at him, his mouth twitching.

“I know how you take your coffee. How you like your meat cooked. I know your order at all of our regular takeout spots by heart. I know about your passions. Your night terrors. The things that haunt you. I’ve seen you give praise. And I’ve seen you snap. I’ve seen you at your highest and lowest. And I’ve heard a billion stories about you from everyone else so don’t—” He sucked in a breath. “Don’t tell me I don’t know you. I know you more than you think.”

Robby stood there in stunned silence. Shock. Fear. Something dangerously close to awe.

Dennis’s voice dropped. “If you tell me to go, I’ll go. It’ll fucking suck.” He continued quietly. “I’ll leave claw marks on this place. I love it here.” He looked up. “But I don’t want to make things more difficult for you than they already are.”

“Dennis.”

“But I do know you. The good and the bad.” He pushed forward before he lost his nerve. “And I love you for all of it.”

Robby swallowed hard, briefly avoiding eye contact. “You can’t say things like that.”

Dennis narrowed his eyes. “Tell me what I can and cannot do or what I should and shouldn’t do again, and we’ll have a code hula hoop on our hands.”

Robby cracked a small smile despite himself. “You really love me?”

“I know it’s stupid. And I know we weren’t exactly serious—”

“Stop.” Robby raised a hand. “I know I do a shit job of showing it, but I’ve always been serious about you.”

“Then why is it so hard for you to see how miserable I am?”

Robby exhaled slowly. “I just didn’t want you to pass this up. Not for me.”

“I’ll have more opportunities.” Dennis said, attempting a weak joke. “I know a guy who can write me a really good recommendation letter.”

It paid off and Robby’s face fully cracked, a laugh bubbling out of him before he could stop it. He looked Dennis up and down. “I miss you.”

“I miss the ED.”

“Wow.”

“You included, obviously.”

Robby shook his head with a small smile. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Dennis shrugged. “We can’t always get what we want as doctors.”

“I’m going to be eating my own words forever, huh?” Robby sighed. “If I can’t have what I want as a doctor, how about as just a guy?”

“Just a guy.” Dennis repeated. “And what does just a guy want?”

Robby met his eyes. “He wants some company later. If anyone is willing.”

Dennis beamed. “I think I know another guy who might be free later.”

Robby smirked before the expression softened. “I don’t know. I think he really only wants the company of the guy he loves.”

The confession hit Dennis square in the chest. They stood there for a moment, neither of them speaking. Then Robby reached for the office door, watching as a trauma rolled in.

“Sorry. Let's put a pin in this.” He said quietly. “End of shift soon.”

They stepped back out into the ED together. Across the room, Trinity was leaning against the nurses’ station. Her eyes were wide as she spotted them. Dennis caught her gaze briefly and gave the smallest shrug. He would explain to her later. 

Dana joined her in staring, her eyes looking between him and Robby, clearly trying not to smile. They parted ways, Robby moving towards the new patient and Dennis making his way back to the elevator. He took it back up, his body still buzzing.

☆☆☆

By the time both men slipped out of the department together, the night shift had taken over, fresh nurses cycling in, new charts lighting up the board, the rhythm shifting into that particular brand of nighttime chaos. Dennis recognized the moment Abbot noticed them immediately. He was leaning against the desk with a cup of coffee, halfway through signing something when his eyes flicked up. First at Robby. Then at Dennis. Then back at Robby. 

The grin that spread across his face was downright smug. Robby did not stop walking. Dennis almost did. He pushed off the desk and leaned slightly over the counter as they passed.

“Well look who crawled out of the surgical dungeon.”

Dennis opened his mouth to respond. Robby grabbed the back of his jacket and kept him moving. “Not now, Jack.”

Abbot snorted. “You two kids have fun.”

Dennis glanced over his shoulder just long enough to see Trinity standing next to the night attending with wide eyes and a barely contained smile. She gave him a thumbs-up. Dennis shook his head and followed Robby out the doors.

The parking lot was cool and quiet compared to the chaos they’d just left behind. Robby unlocked his car and tossed his bag into the backseat, then leaned against the door for a second, looking at Dennis like he still couldn’t quite believe he was there.

Dennis did his best to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “You keep staring at me like I’m about to flee.”

Robby huffed softly. “You did threaten to leave the hospital today.”

“That was before someone admitted they loved me.”

Robby rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Get in the car, Dennis.”

Dennis bit back a smile. “Yes, sir.”

Robby’s place felt exactly the same as Dennis remembered. Same dim lighting. Same faint smell of coffee and takeout. Same worn couch sitting in the center of the living room. Dennis stepped inside and exhaled slowly. Robby locked the door behind them and tossed his keys onto the counter. When he turned back around, Dennis was already watching him. Neither of them moved for a moment. Then Robby sighed. “Come here.”

Dennis crossed the room without hesitation. He buried his face against Robby’s shoulder as the older man wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. They stayed like that for several seconds. Dennis was the first one to speak. “You really messed me up, you know.”

Robby winced slightly.

Dennis pulled back just enough to look at him. “You can’t do that again. Push me away like that.” He clarified. “Even if you think it’s for my own good. You don’t get to decide my life for me.”

Robby studied him for a moment, then reached down and wiped his thumb under Dennis’s eye. He hadn’t realized he’d started tearing up. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, sweetheart.”

Dennis swallowed. “I know.”

Robby’s hand lingered on his cheek for a moment before he sighed and stepped back. “For what it’s worth, watching you in surgery…”

Dennis groaned. “Don’t start.”

“You’re good at it.”

“I hate it.”

“I know.” Robby ran a hand up his back. “You’re an emergency doctor.”

Dennis looked up at him. “Yeah, I am.”

“There are fellowships in emergency medicine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Disaster medicine. EMS leadership. Critical care.”

“You’ve been thinking about this.” Dennis watched him. “While we were broken up?”

“If the shoe fits.”

He laughed. “I don't think people say that anymore.”

“It’s a medical term.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He shook his head. “Well, in that case, I’ll ask Abbot for a recommendation.”

Robby narrowed his eyes. “You are absolutely not asking Jack.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Robby said, hauling Dennis closer to him. “I will write you the best damn recommendation letter of your career.”

Dennis grinned. “Sounds pretty biased.”

“I am biased.”

“I really missed this.”

Robby tilted his head. “This?”

Dennis gestured between them. “Us.”

Robby grinned down at him. “Me too.”

Dennis rested his hand lightly on Robby’s arm. “So we’re clear… No more pushing me away because you think it’s noble.”

Robby nodded. “No more.”

“You promise?”

He brushed his thumb over Dennis’s cheek again. “I promise.”

Dennis exhaled. Then Robby kissed him. Dennis kissed him back immediately, grabbing Robby’s shirt as they stumbled toward the couch, laughing into each other’s mouths as they half-fell onto it. He tried to shove Robby onto his back, quickly climbing into his lap, but the older man twisted and flipped them, catching Dennis’s wrist. Then they rolled again, grappling for a second like two idiots who had forgotten how to be serious around each other.

Robby finally pinned him against the cushions. “You’re mine, Den. Always been mine.”

Dennis’s cheeks burned. His hands were already in Robby’s shirt, gripping the fabric like he needed the proof that he was really there. Robby kissed him again, harder this time. The playfulness faded quickly into something deeper, hungrier. Weeks of distance, frustration, and unspoken feelings surged forward all at once. Dennis pushed upward against him, their bodies shifting together as they fought for a better angle, hands tugging and pulling at each other like neither of them could get close enough. Dennis’s hands slid up Robby’s back, fingers curling into the fabric between his shoulders. He pulled him down even closer, their mouths meeting with a renewed urgency that made Robby groan quietly.

They moved together instinctively, bodies aligning, the couch creaking softly under their shifting weight. Dennis rolled slightly to the side, dragging Robby with him so they were tangled together across the cushions. For a moment, they just clung to each other, arms wrapped tight, legs brushing, foreheads pressed together as they panted.

Dennis ran his thumb along the back of Robby’s neck, his breathing still uneven. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Robby’s voice was rough, and Dennis tugged him closer again, burying his face briefly against his shoulder as strong arms tightened around him.

Robby brushed his lips along Dennis’s temple before resting his forehead against his. “You have no idea how hard it was.” He murmured.

Dennis huffed softly. “Pretty sure I do.”

Robby smiled faintly against him, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of Dennis’s head. “I’m sorry for how I handled it.”

“You’ll have to make it up to me.” The words hung between them, light and teasing on the surface, but the look in Robby’s eyes said he understood the weight behind them. He brushed his thumb along Dennis’s jaw again, slower this time.

“I plan to.” He murmured. Dennis felt the warmth of it spread through his chest before Robby leaned in and kissed him again. Not the same breathless collision they’d fallen into earlier on the couch. This one lingered. Robby’s hand slid gently along Dennis’s side as he pulled back just enough to look at him again before sitting up, his expression softer than Dennis had seen it in a long time.

“Come here.” He said quietly.

“We’re already here.”

Robby chuckled, nudging him with his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Dennis followed when Robby stood, their hands brushing as they crossed the short distance toward the hallway. The place was quiet now, the earlier laughter and chaos of the ED feeling far away. The bedroom door creaked softly when Robby pushed it open. Dennis stepped inside first, taking in the familiar space. The same lamp on the nightstand cast a warm glow across the room as it flicked on, softening the edges of everything. He turned back just in time to see Robby close the door behind them. For a moment neither of them spoke. They simply stood there, facing each other in the quiet.

Dennis had been in the room before, more times than he could count, but tonight felt different. Robby walked toward him slowly, stopping close enough that Dennis could feel the warmth radiating off him again. His hands came up, resting lightly at Dennis’s waist. Not pulling, just grounding them there.

Dennis’s fingers drifted over Robby’s wrist, tracing the familiar lines there. “You’re staring again.”

“I am.” He continued to look at him. Not the quick once-over Dennis was used to. Not the teasing appraisal that usually came with a crooked smile before their previous encounters. This was slower, intentional. Like he was memorizing him again.

Dennis shifted under the weight of it, half amused and half flustered. “What?”

Robby shook his head a little. “Nothing. Just… you.”

There was something almost reverent in the way he touched him now. Robby lifted the hem of Dennis’s shirt slightly, pausing just long enough for Dennis to meet his eyes. He nodded, and the fabric slipped away gradually, Robby’s hands careful as he guided it over his shoulders. His fingertips brushed along Dennis’s ribs as he set the shirt aside, lingering for just a second before his palms returned to Dennis’s skin. Dennis’s breath caught softly. He reached for Robby in return, sliding his hands beneath the older man’s shirt and pushing it up slowly. The motion felt almost ceremonial now, each movement unhurried as the fabric slipped free and joined the growing pile on the floor.

The space between them disappeared naturally after that. Their chests brushed together, skin warm where it met. Robby kissed him like he had all the time in the world, slow and unhurried, his thumb resting lightly against Dennis’s jaw. Dennis melted into it. Hands trailed over his butt and Dennis laughed softly when Robby’s fingers hesitated at his waistband. “You’ve done this before, you know.” He teased.

Robby looked up at him. “Not like this.”

Dennis tilted his head. “How’s this different?”

Hands gripped him a little tighter. “I almost let you go.” The words settled heavily between them.

Dennis reached for him then, cupping Robby’s jaw and pulling him into another kiss that felt deeper somehow, less like relief and more like a promise. He stepped out of his bottoms as they were tugged down his waist. “You’re really not going to push me away again?”

Robby’s answer was immediate. “Hell no.”

They moved toward the bed together, not quite separating as they did. When Dennis sat back against the mattress, Robby followed him down easily, one arm braced beside him while the other slipped around his waist. His own pants were kicked away to join Dennis’s on the floor.

Robby’s smile was warm. “You asked me to make it up to you.”

“Mhm.” Dennis exhaled softly, arching up towards him for more contact.

“So tell me what you want.”

Dennis lifted his hand slowly and brushed his fingers along the side of Robby’s neck. “You.”

His brow lifted just a little at the answer. “That’s pretty vague.”

Dennis huffed, his thumb sliding along Robby’s jaw. “I want you. But… slow.”

Something in Robby’s expression shifted at that. It was much different than the other times they had fallen into bed together. But he looked strangely relieved at the request. “Slow, I can do.”

He leaned down and kissed him again. Dennis slid his fingers into Robby’s hair, holding him there as their lips moved together. He tilted his head slightly as their mouths parted. “You’re very good at this.”

“At what?”

“Making it up to me.”

Robby’s mouth curved before he brushed another kiss across Dennis’s lips. “I’m trying.”

Dennis ran his hand slowly down Robby’s back, tracing the line of his spine in a way that made Robby exhale quietly against him. The sound sent a warm ripple through Dennis’s chest. He laughed softly when Robby brushed a toothy kiss along his jaw.

“What?”

“You’re smiling.” Dennis pointed out.

“Am I not allowed?”

“You’re usually more broody about this.”

Robby nudged him lightly. “Careful.”

Dennis grinned, but the smile softened quickly as he looked at him again. He leaned up just enough to brush a kiss against the corner of Robby’s mouth. “Need you, Robby.” 

The words seemed to steady something in Robby. His shoulders relaxed a little as he leaned down again, kissing Dennis more fully this time. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Dennis shifted beneath him, the pet name filling his stomach with butterflies, one knee sliding along Robby’s side as his arms wrapped around his shoulders. Their bodies settled together naturally, both of them sliding together to chase more friction. Dennis traced the line of Robby’s shoulder, the curve of his back, the familiar warmth of him.

Every touch felt like a promise. And when Robby murmured a quiet “I love you” against his mouth, Dennis answered it with a roll of his hips. Both men gasped into each other’s mouths. Robby buried his face briefly against the side of Dennis’s neck. He felt the warm brush of his breath there, the quiet inhale that followed.

“God, Den.” Robby muttered under his breath.

Dennis slid his fingers through his hair again, holding him there gently. “You okay?”

Robby nodded against his neck, his nose brushing the skin there, his beard scratching deliciously. “Yeah. Just trying to go slow.”

“You don’t have to go this slow–” He was cut off by Robby finally wrapping a hand around him.

“What was that, smart ass?” He clicked his tongue, pumping him slowly. He looked pleased at the way it made Dennis squirm underneath him, failing to hurry the pace despite the desperate snap of his hips. “Slow down.”

Dennis scowled at the command but listened, biting down hard on his lip. “Please.”

It came out pained and desperate, his face heating with embarrassment. But Robby hunched to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips before leaning over to dig in the bedside table.

It was a pleasant kind of torture, having Robby take his time opening him up on three slicked fingers. The restraint was almost unbearable. His body wanted to move faster, to close the distance between anticipation and release. Every slow kiss and lingering brush of skin seemed to stretch the moment thinner and thinner, the tension building until it hummed beneath his ribs. And yet…

He didn’t want Robby to stop.

The waiting drove him a little crazy. The quiet frustration of wanting more, of feeling the warmth between them grow stronger with every second. But that frustration was tangled up with something else entirely. Something intoxicating. Because every time Robby’s hands drifted over him, dug deeper inside of him, every time their mouths met again in another lingering kiss, Dennis felt the same rush of warmth spread through him.

Like Robby was savoring him. Not rushing through the moment. Not treating this like another fleeting encounter that would burn bright and disappear just as quickly.

Dennis could feel the difference in the way Robby touched him, like he was memorizing the lines of his body, committing the feeling of Dennis in his arms to memory. The thought made something in Dennis’s chest swell painfully. He had wanted this for so long. Not just the closeness, not just the heat between them, but this. This quiet attention, this feeling that Robby was giving himself completely and not preparing to push him away. They came sickeningly close to losing this forever. Dennis’s fingers tightened slightly against Robby’s back, his breath catching as another slow wave of warmth spread through him.

The waiting made every sensation sharper. It was maddening and incredible at the same time. Because the longer they lingered in that slow-building closeness, the more Dennis realized he didn’t want to rush through it. He didn’t want the moment to collapse into something quick and fleeting. He wanted to stay right there. Suspended in that electric space between longing and fulfillment, where every touch meant something more. Where Robby held him like he mattered.

The tension in Dennis’s body was real, burning and insistent. And as Robby’s hands moved over him again with that same reverent care, Dennis let himself sink fully into it.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Robby’s voice was strained, the suspense of it all clearly affecting him just as much.

Dennis watched his throat swallow. “Yes.”

“Can I keep going?” The patience was waning in his eyes. Dennis nodded, his body reduced to putty in the sheets. At his approval, Robby quickly withdrew his fingers and used them to slick himself up. He folded himself over Dennis, both men pressed chest to chest as he slid home. “I’m sorry. I almost messed this up. I love you.”

Dennis clung to him tightly as he moved, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Robby tried his best to keep a moderate pace, bucking into him with measured strokes that drew quiet whimpers from his own mouth. It didn’t take either of them long to fall off the edge, swallowing each other’s noises as they rode out the high together. For a few moments after, the world seemed to shrink to the minimal space between their bodies. Robby’s weight settled heavily over him as the tension drained away, his breathing uneven against Dennis’s neck. Dennis’s hands were still gripping his shoulders, fingers curled into the warm skin there like he needed the proof that Robby was still right where he’d been a second before.

He could feel Robby’s heart hammering against his chest, gradually slowing as their breathing began to steady. His own pulse still rang faintly in his ears, the last waves of sensation fading into a quiet, heavy warmth. Robby shifted slightly, careful not to break the closeness between them, and pressed a slow kiss against the side of Dennis’s temple.

“You alright?” He murmured, his voice still rough. Dennis nodded, though the movement was small. His arms loosened just enough for him to slide one hand up the back of Robby’s neck, thumb brushing through the damp hair there. They stayed like that for a long minute, tangled together across the sheets, letting the quiet settle around them. After coming back down to Earth, Robby shifted again after a moment, easing some of his weight off Dennis and propping himself on one elbow. His hand moved gently across Dennis’s cheek, brushing away the faint trace of tears still clinging there. “All good?”

Dennis huffed a soft laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking if I’m okay.”

Robby’s mouth twitched. “You were crying.”

“Shut up.”

Robby leaned down and kissed him. Soft, quick, more affectionate than anything else. Dennis stretched slightly, wincing when the movement reminded him how tense his muscles had been. Robby noticed immediately.

“Come on.” He murmured. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Dennis groaned softly but didn’t argue. He let Robby guide him upright, still feeling a little unsteady in the pleasant way that usually followed their encounters. They moved slowly as they crossed the short distance to the bathroom, Dennis bumping lightly into Robby’s shoulder as they walked. Robby flicked the light on and reached for the shower handle.

Steam filled the small bathroom quickly once the shower started. Dennis stood just inside the doorway for a moment, watching as Robby adjusted the temperature under the spray. The soft rush of water against tile filled the room, warm and steady, carrying away the quiet tension that had lingered after everything between them. Robby glanced over his shoulder. “You coming in, or are you just supervising?”

Dennis stepped forward on still trembling legs. The air was already warm with steam when he stepped into the shower beside him. Hot water rolled over his shoulders immediately, chasing away the ache in his limbs, leaving behind something calmer. Robby ran a hand back through his damp hair, tilting his face into the water. Dennis leaned back against the tile for a moment, watching him through the haze of steam. Robby eventually reached for the bottle of soap, pouring a small amount into his hand before turning toward Dennis.

“Come.”

Dennis stepped closer without thinking about it. Robby’s hands moved slowly over his shoulders, working the soap across his skin with careful, unhurried movements. The touch was firm but gentle, and Dennis found himself relaxing into it almost immediately.

“You’re very attentive tonight.” Dennis murmured.

Robby shrugged slightly. “Making good on my promises.”

His hands moved down Dennis's arms, fingers tracing the length of them before returning to his shoulders again. For a moment, Dennis just let himself enjoy it. The steady warmth of the water, the quiet way Robby took care of him without saying much. Eventually Dennis reached for the soap in return. “Your turn.”

Robby raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Dennis stepped closer, his hands sliding over Robby’s shoulders, working the soap across the broad line of his back. The motion was slow and deliberate, his palms moving along familiar paths. He’d touched Robby a hundred times before. But this was different. Quickly addictive. Robby rested one hand lightly against the tile as Dennis’s hands moved along his back, soothing over the scratches he had left behind. They finished rinsing in comfortable silence, the steam curling around them as the water slowed to a stop. Robby stepped out first, grabbing two towels from the rack and tossing one toward Dennis.

Dennis caught it with a lazy flick of his wrist, shooting him a glare that reduced them both to a fit of giggles. He wrapped the towel around his waist and followed him back to the bedroom, which still held the faint warmth of earlier, the air thick with the lingering scent of sex. Robby stopped at the edge of the bed. The sheets were a mess. Twisted, damp, and half-pulled off the mattress.

Dennis looked at them and grimaced. “Yeah… those have to go.”

Robby gave a short laugh. “Agreed.”

They moved at the same time without really talking about it. Dennis grabbed one corner of the sheet while Robby tugged the other free, the fabric peeling away from the mattress with a soft rustle. Dennis shook his head as he balled it up. “You’d think after working in a hospital all day, we’d be better at handling sheets.”

“Different kind of bed work.” Robby snorted, tossing the pillowcases aside. The mattress was bare within a minute. Robby disappeared briefly into the closet and came back with a clean set of sheets tucked under his arm. Dennis took one edge automatically, helping him spread it across the mattress. They worked together easily, as they always did, pulling the corners tight and smoothing the fabric down. It was simple, domestic.

Dennis leaned over the bed, tucking the sheet beneath the mattress. “This is probably the least glamorous part of the evening.”

Robby pulled the opposite corner tight. “Speak for yourself. I find sheet-changing deeply romantic.”

Dennis tried his best to hide a smile. “You would. Wierdo”

They finished quickly, tossing a new comforter over the bed before stepping away to admire their work. Dennis climbed onto the mattress first, settling against the pillows with a soft sigh. Robby followed a second later, sliding beneath the covers beside him. Dennis rolled onto him, draping himself partly across Robby like it was the most natural thing in the world, their legs tangled somewhere beneath the sheets. His cheek rested against Robby’s chest, rising and falling with the slow rhythm of his breathing. He still felt the warmth of the shower lingering through his body, the dull pleasant heaviness that came with finally letting go of weeks of tension. Robby’s hand moved slowly through his hair, fingers tracing the same absent path again and again. Dennis let his eyes close as he tilted his head slightly, brushing a kiss against the skin over Robby’s heart before settling back down. 

Robby’s hand paused in his hair. “Just asking one more time… Feeling okay?”

Dennis nodded tiredly against him. Robby’s arm tightened a little around his shoulders, pulling him closer in that unconscious way that had always felt natural between them.

Dennis could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. “You’re thinking.”

Dennis hummed. He lifted his head just enough to look up at him. “I am. You know what I realized?”

Robby raised an eyebrow. “That you’re incredibly stubborn?”

“No. We already knew that.” Dennis snorted softly. Robby’s mouth twitched. Dennis rested his chin lightly on his chest. “Garcia is actually not as bad as I thought.”

“That’s the revelation you had after all of this?”

Dennis shrugged lazily where he rested against him. “It’s a big day for personal growth.”

Robby’s fingers continued their slow path through his hair. “What changed your mind?”

Dennis considered it for a moment, tracing an idle circle against Robby’s chest. “She cornered me today. After my case with Park.”

Robby groaned softly. “Park the Shark. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well. Apparently I’ve been moping.”

Robby huffed. “You have been known to look mopey.”

Dennis tipped his head back just enough to squint up at him. “Traitor.”

“Accurate observer.” He corrected.

Dennis rolled his eyes. “Anyway, she started poking at me about the ED. What I missed about it. Wouldn’t let it go.”

Robby’s hand paused briefly again. “And?”

“And she told me something else she noticed.” He smirked, his voice teasing. “Apparently you light up every time I show up for a consult.”

Robby’s hand resumed its movement again. “Garcia exaggerates.”

“Mhm.” He tilted his head again, watching him. “She also said you barely acknowledge her anymore.”

“That part’s true.”

Dennis laughed. Robby gave him a look that was more tired affection than annoyance. Dennis let the silence settle for a moment. “She also told me I belong in the ED.”

“That’s not exactly a controversial opinion.”

Dennis nudged him lightly. “Coming from you, that’s suspiciously diplomatic.”

Robby shrugged a shoulder beneath him. “I’ve always known where you belong.”

The room had grown softer again, the warmth between them settling into something comfortable. “I thought leaving the hospital would fix things.”

Robby frowned slightly. “How?”

Dennis shifted onto his side so he could look at him properly. “Like if I just removed myself from the equation… you wouldn’t have to deal with the complication.”

Robby’s expression darkened slightly at that. “That’s exactly what I was trying to do by making you leave the ED.”

“Yeah, I know.” He squinted at him again.

A beat passed. Then Robby exhaled slowly and rubbed a hand down his face. “We’re both idiots.”

Dennis grinned. “Speak for yourself.”

Robby nudged him back with his shoulder. “You literally threatened to transfer hospitals today.”

Dennis winced slightly. “That was a low point.”

“A dramatic one.”

Dennis shifted again, propping himself up on an elbow. “You should be grateful!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dennis said. “It got you to admit you love me.”

Robby rolled his eyes. “You already knew that. You had to.”

“It was nice to hear it out loud.”

Robby reached over and brushed his thumb along Dennis’s cheek again. “I love you.” He said quietly.

Dennis felt the words settle warmly in his chest. He rested his head back on the solid chest under him. “I love you too.”

He traced a lazy line across Robby’s collarbone. “You know we’re going to have to figure some things out.”

“I know.”

“At work.”

“I know.” He repeated.

“You’re not worried?”

Robby considered that. “Maybe a little.”

“But?”

“I promised. No more pushing you away.” His fingers skimmed down Dennis’s back. “And I’m tired of pretending that this doesn’t mean everything to me.”

“Everything?” He breathed out. “Don’t let Abbot hear that.”

Robby's chest quivered with a laugh. “The mouth on you. You’re going to be a problem coming back to the ED.”

“Yeah.” He snickered. “But I’ll be your problem again.”

Robby’s arm slid around him again, pulling him closer without hesitation. It was clear that neither of them minded. Dennis settled, tucking himself more comfortably against Robby’s side. The hospital would still be loud, the ED still chaotic, and lots of explaining for them to do. But neither of them needed to leave claw marks on the past, instead, it was only about what came next.