Archive of Our Own ^beta

Robby didn’t mean to come off so brash to Whitaker, but he was already having a shit day, and before he could control his anger, it blew up in front of the ED.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he yelled, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. 

“He was going to die, and everyone else was busy. I had to do something fast,” Whitaker defended, standing tall as if it would help his case.

Doctors and nurses swiveled their heads at the loud scoff Robby gave him. 

“Do you know what could’ve happened if you killed him instead?” his voice lowered an octave, but rage bubbled underneath the surface. 

“Yes, but I didn’t, sir. I saved him.”

“Yeah, but what if you did kill him?” he shouted, definitely too loud, as he heard footsteps striding to calm him down. 

Robby wasn’t in the fucking mood. 

“I’m sor—”

“I don’t want your apology. It’s already over, and you’ve already crossed the line.” Dana got ahead of Robby, but he still fumed at Whitaker, shaking his head. “I could write you up for that stunt. Maybe I will.”

He wanted to feel satisfaction about Whitaker’s eyes filled with fear, but it gave him a sense of guilt instead. 

“Please, don’t—”

“Robby,” Dana scolded. Robby didn’t look her in the eye, knowing what emotion would stare back. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“The kid treated a patient without an attending or another certified doctor in the room, Dana,” he muttered. 

“Okay, that’s bad, but we’ll figure it out,” she said, “No need to cause a scene in the middle of the day.”

Robby shook his head. “It actually is enough.” He shifted his gaze to Whitaker. “Hell, I should send you away like Langdon because apparently no one has any goddamn respect for their superiors anymore.”

Santos, Mohan, and McKay glanced worriedly between Robby and Whitaker. Whitaker’s chest was heaving out of panic. 

“How do I make it up to you?” Whitaker asked. 

“How do you make it up to me?” Robby repeated and smirked at his audacity before covering it up with his hand. “How to make it up to me. You can get your shit out of your locker and get the hell out of my ED. That’s what you can do.”

Robby began to walk away, ignoring all of the shocked faces as he passed by. 

“Dr. Robby, wait.”

Robby pushed down the need to turn around and hear Whitaker out. 

“Listen, please. I will do anything you ask me to. Just don’t make me leave.” The desperation and sheer will of Whitaker’s words made Robby clench his fists.

Careful footsteps trailed right behind his heels, and Robby swiveled his body around so Whitaker screeched to a stop in front of him. His widened blue eyes wavered at Robby’s furious dark brown.

“You don’t have what it takes,” Robby muttered. He studied Whitaker, who fidgeted with his hands. “And I’m disappointed that I wasted time on you.”

Robby wanted nothing more than for the kid to cut his losses and leave. But Whitaker’s breath hitched, and he remained standing there, soaking in Robby’s judgment. Stupidly stubborn, just like him. 

“Let me prove it to you.”

“Prove what?” Robby yelled. “That you’re a pain in my ass? That you have not even the slightest clue of what you’re doing? No. No, you’re not going to prove shit, Whitaker. You had your chance, and you lost it.”

Whitaker trembled, more than shook, his head. “I’m not leaving,” he gritted out.

Robby pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced around the ED. When he spotted who stood at the front doors, he looked back, sighing. “Fine, then. I really didn’t want to have to do this, but if you're not leaving by choice, then you’ll have to leave by force.” Robby turned his head. “Ahmad,” he called over.

Everyone in the ED stiffened.

“Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” Dana asked, and more people’s attention caught.

Ahmad weaved his way through the crowd and inspected Robby. “What’s going on?”

Robby studied Whitaker, who was shifting his terrified gaze between him and Ahmad.

“Take him out of the building,” Robby ordered, but it quickly got muffled with complaints from his other coworkers. 

He heard “ you’re overreacting” to “don’t do something you’ll regret” to “stop doing this,” and he hated every single syllable in each sentence, but he didn’t need to care about their opinions—only Ahmad’s.

The man watched Whitaker, and just as Robby began to have hope, he shook his head. “I can’t do that to my boy, Whitaker,” Ahmad said.

People sighed in relief, and some asked to regroup, but Robby never listened, glaring at Ahmad. “You can and you will.”

Ahmad’s eyes slightly widened at Robby’s attitude. The sparse conversations they’ve had have always been civil—fun even, when it comes to betting on miscellaneous things that never seemed to matter.

But this shit mattered. It mattered a lot.

“No. I won’t,” Ahmad said.

Tension filled the air as everyone clamored and surrounded Robby. He would yell at his employees to get back to work, but with the staggering number of people glaring at him, he figured it wouldn’t end well, not until he heard, “Rob. Leave it alone.”

Robby could tell it was Dana, but his patience was thinning with every second, and that stupid sentence just snapped the last string of composure he had left in him.

Robby whipped his head around, and as he began to open his mouth to yell at everyone, Whitaker opened his. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave. I promise,” he said with his words laced with distress. His darker eye bags and his messy hair made it seem like he’d been through hell, as though Robby specially placed him there.

An uproar happened among the staff. Robby didn’t decipher much except for denial and desperation. Whitaker mouthed that he’d be fine, but no one believed him, not even Robby.

He thought it’d feel better to see the kid walk away defeated, like it’d be sugar on his tongue, but instead the flavor resembled sand in his mouth—dry, scratchy, and grainy—leaving a bad aftertaste.

How could he make it better? 

Before he completely considered it through, he yelled, “When you do, why don’t you go to the church on the next road over? I heard they’re looking for new theology majors there.”

He didn’t know what kind of reaction he’d get, but after he said the words, he didn’t expect Whitaker to flinch viscerally. In pain, in surprise, in sadness—he couldn’t tell.

Robby’s breath caught in his throat. He went too far. He knew he did. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the dark cover his consequence before opening them back up to stare at Whitaker with sympathy or some kind of apology. 

But there were so many people reprimanding Robby that he didn’t think his gaze came across. Especially not when he swore he heard Whitaker’s tiny voice ask, “Why would you say that to me?” 

Robby’s heart dropped at his words, but he didn’t get the chance to answer. Whitaker already walked away, his hands trembling as he hurried.

Robby watched as he turned the corner to the lockers. Then he was burdened with people staring at him in disappointment and anger. Yet no surprise.

“Take a break, Robby,” Dana muttered with a shake of her head. 

Everyone dispersed, leaving him alone, until the next gurney flew in.

+++++

The following day, Robby had to leave work early. He didn’t understand why, but the ED as a whole studied him as if it were necessary. So, at 4 P.M., he walked out the door to stop in his tracks.

Outside, Whitaker leaned on the building, not sparing a smile for him.

Robby wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially not now, but he missed when the kid would light up whenever they connected gazes. He squeezed his hands so as not to touch Whitaker’s shoulder instinctively.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Hello to you, too,” Whitaker mumbled before he said, “I thought we could talk it out. Everyone approved it. Even Dr. Abbott, so you can’t say no.”

No wonder the bastard gave him a smug smirk during the shift handover this morning.

Robby sighed. “Okay, then,” he begrudgingly agreed, not having a choice. “Where to?”

Whitaker pushed off the wall and crossed his arms. “Well, I decided to take your advice.” Robby tilted his head. “We’re going to the church a street over.”

+++++

He had to be kidding. 

Robby turned his head to Whitaker, who looked as serious as ever, studying the old confessional booth ahead of them. 

Robby huffed at the impertinence. “So, your idea of talking it out is sitting in a cramped booth and confessing our sins to a priest?”

“No priest,” Whitaker said. He glanced at Robby with a fake smirk. “We won’t need one to spare judgment on us as long as we have each other.”

Whitaker walked to the right side of the booth and opened the wooden door. He stood there and waited for Robby to enter the left.

As his feet carried him to the entrance, the memories of his conversation with Dana swarmed his head.

“I don’t understand why you hurt him so much. Weren’t you the one to tell me on the first day he showed up to keep an eye on him?” Dana lit her cigarette after.

Robby groaned. “I told you. He could’ve gotten into serious trouble if someone were important here. Completely kicked out of the program.”

“So, you make him get into worse trouble with you?” she berated. “You kick him out of the PMTC instead?” She took a drag and scoffed it out. “Come on, Rob. Make things right. I know you still care about him. Don’t you?”

Robby didn’t respond. Dana didn’t need his answer. 

Now, he opened the door and watched as Whitaker went inside. As Whitaker shut it, Robby thought about making a run for it, but he knew what the right thing to do was. 

He stepped in and closed the wooden door behind him. It was a dark box that caged in everything he didn’t want to let out. The latticed screen barrier between them covered too much to see the other side clearly. Robby only spotted the outline of Whitaker, and that was enough to swallow a lump in his throat.

He sat down on the uncomfortable bench and looked around every corner of the booth. It was a tight fit. The wood was peeled and scratched in some areas. He wouldn’t be surprised if he added more tallies, urging to leave this place. Maybe Whitaker would leave a mark, too. He always fidgeted with his hands.

“I told them I studied theology and needed to clear the air with someone,” Whitaker said. “They let me have it for thirty minutes.”

“Wow, aren’t we lucky?” Robby rhetorically muttered, but by the small scoff on the other side, he said it loud enough for Whitaker to hear.

“Is thirty minutes enough for you to admit everything to me?” Robby almost snickered at the comeback he didn’t think Whitaker was capable of. 

“Not even close, kid.”

He shifted in the seat, and the wood groaned from underneath him. None of them said anything for the first few seconds. 

Robby cleared his throat. “You dead in there?”

“Oh, I was waiting for you to start.” Another pause. “Did you want me to go first?” he squeaked out. 

“Well, having some respect for your elder would be nice.”

Whitaker breathed out in astonishment, and Robby imagined him shaking his head at his audacity. “Okay, well, I think we both owe each other apologies before we begin.”

Robby remembered when Whitaker tried to, and he interrupted him with a cruel comment. He nodded, even though Whitaker couldn’t see. “Alright, you start.”

Wood creaked from the other side. “I’m sorry, Robby.” He stiffened at Whitaker saying his name without the honorific. “What I did was wrong, and I know better now.”

Robby glanced down at his hands, which were clasped together. He followed each vein until they disappeared under the sleeves of his coat. “And what should you do when something like that happens again?”

“Check in with you,” Whitaker said. “Always.”

Robby lifted his hand to rub his jaw as his fingers glided over the roughness of his beard. He chose to ignore the pleased feeling in his gut at Whitaker’s promise.

“Your turn,” the other side mumbled.

Robby squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head down. He was never good with apologies. “I’m sorry, Whitaker—”

“Dennis.”

Robby bit his tongue until he corrected, “Dennis.” It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if he hadn’t said his name like it could shift the world on its axis. “Dennis, I am sorry that I took my anger out on you and blew the situation out of proportion. Yes, what you did was very serious, and I don’t take it lightly, but I should’ve conveyed my…care…better.”

“Thank you.”

Robby opened his eyes and straightened his posture. Perhaps he felt the Christian side effects of this confessional booth, as he secretly thanked God that this was already over. “So, are we done here? Free to go?”

“Do you think that’s all we owe each other?”

The question made Robby halt. He stared at the screen as if Dennis could see through him. He figured he would agree to get the hell out as fast as possible, too. “I—Yes. Yes, I do.” Dennis’s silence made him more uneasy. “Do you think I owe you more out of me?” 

“Don’t you want more out of me?”

Another question had Robby reeling, but he forced a smile. “How much are we talking here?” he teased, “I’m your boss.” The last statement came out as a croak.

Dennis paused and then replied, “I never said you weren’t.”

His fake smile faded as quickly as it arrived. “Well then, what more did you want to tell me? Is it work-related?” The tight box felt like a sauna, with it becoming sweltering in seconds. 

“No, I—”

“Then, I probably shouldn’t know, anyway.” He began to stand up, and the wood from under his feet was louder than it ever was.

“Why are you trying so hard to leave?” Dennis’s voice was small, as if he were in pain.

Robby didn’t take another step outside. He should’ve. But he couldn’t. His feet were stuck like someone had glued him in place. He promised himself he’d use his brain for this confrontation with Dennis, not the beating core in his chest that urged him to use his voice. 

Before he could fathom it, Robby sat back down. “Why are you trying so hard to make me stay?”

“I already told you. We owe it to each other.”

Owing. Since when did Robby owe him anything? Dennis worked in Robby’s ED and under Robby’s supervision. He was just an MS4 student. There were two other students like him, Santos and Javadi, and he didn’t owe them shit except for guidance with a reassuring smile.

But if Dennis were just a simple intern, then Robby’s heart wouldn’t be thumping in his throat and vibrating in his skull at the silence, anxious for what Dennis thought on the other side.

“Okay, then.” Dennis waited for an interruption or maybe the same wood creaking under Robby’s feet, thinking he’d leave. When he heard nothing, he said, “I want you to understand that I’m not weak. I’m capable of being in the same space as you.”

Robby didn’t hide his sigh. “I know you are. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in the Pitt with me. You don’t have to second-guess yourself—”

“You saw when I flinched,” Dennis said. Robby stopped speaking. “I noticed your expression when I did. You looked at me like I was a little kid. And the last thing I need for you to do is go easy on me because you think I need babying. I don’t. I’ve worked my way up, and it took fighting tooth and nail to get to where I am. Same with you.” Dennis caught his breath. “Listen, I can go from square one if you want me to. I won’t do anything hands-on, and I’ll sit and watch you the whole time—”

“Whitaker—”

“I’ll trail you like a dog. I’ll get you your coffee. I’ll get you the gloves you use and throw away seconds after every patient—”

“Dennis—”

“Just don’t treat me like I’m weak.” He finished with a soft, “Please.”

The gentleness of his voice, even when in hardship, made Robby threaten to match his tone in reassurance. He shook his head to deny himself of it. 

“I won’t.” Robby paused and then forced out, “As long as you don’t do the same for me.”

He almost thought he scared Dennis away with the amount of shifting he heard on the other side, but the wooden door never opened.

“Okay.”

Robby knew what Dennis was thinking. Memories flashed back from PittFest as though it were yesterday. Sure, they talked about it afterward, but not in enough depth or care—more like sworn to secrecy. 

“Do you still want me to go first?” Dennis questioned.

“If you’re still offering.”

That brought a slight chuckle out of him, and a betrayal of a smirk grew on Robby’s face.

“Well, if we’re confessing, then I have to admit that even with my undergrad degree, I’m still scared whenever I set foot in a church. I got here twenty minutes earlier, just staring at the building to prepare myself. Even when I prayed on the Sunday before, I did the same thing. I,” He chuckled nervously. “I hold my breath because it’s so obvious to me how much of an outlier I am. That everyone would immediately see I’m some sort of traitor.”

“Why? Because you don’t go every Sunday? Or because you don’t study it anymore?”

“Because I keep finding it harder to believe.”

The breath gets taken out of Robby in one fell swoop. The Star of David necklace around his neck seemed to burn, as if it noticed the relatability Robby had in Dennis’s statement.

“Isn’t that the truth,” he muttered.

It wasn’t until a moment of silence that he realized they were trading confessions back and forth. It was his turn. 

“Uhm,” Robby scrambled for words that weren’t too heavy or too ridiculous, but couldn’t seem to find them.

“Take your time,” Dennis said. “We’ll be okay as long as you don’t take twenty-five minutes to come up with an answer.”

Robby chuckled. “But twenty-four would be acceptable, right?”

“Don’t make me scold you like Dana.”

He forced his smirk down. It didn’t take long before he opened his mouth. “I never want to go home.” He tapped his left leg repeatedly, wondering how to phrase his confession so it didn’t make him sound lonely. “When I was younger, I was raised by my grandmother. She taught me what a home was. I remember cooking her recipes and thinking that I couldn’t wait to keep making them. To eventually pass it down to my family.” He blinked away the stinging in his eyes. “And I never really had that. Perhaps at times in my life, I did. But it was never permanent. Whenever I come home, it’s to nothing. And at this point, it’s too late to change that.” He sighed and once again deflected with humor. “I need a pet of some kind.”

“It’s never too late.” Robby would scoff if he knew Dennis wasn’t being serious. “What would be the worst thing is to give up hope.”

Hope. It was a foreign word on the tip of Robby’s tongue. He never used it anymore, not after everything. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I had a home, and it sucked,” Dennis said. “Then, as soon as I moved here, I didn’t even have a place to live. I just, uh.” He stopped talking.

Robby raised an eyebrow. “You just what?”

“Okay, we’ve already forgiven each other, this is a confessional booth, and it happened in the past only for a week. So don’t freak out."

“Stop making me worry. What the hell are you talking about?” Robby scolded.

Dennis tapped his fingers on the wooden bench. “I might have possibly squatted in the abandoned hospital wing because I had nowhere to go.” Robby’s eyes widened. “But I swear, it was only for a week, and I never ruined anything!”

“You were living in the damn hospital and never told anyone?” 

“Well, Trinity found out on our first day. That’s why we live together,” he said. Robby placed his face in his hands as Dennis whispered, “Don’t be mad?”

God, Dennis Whitaker was going to be the death of him. “But everything’s okay right now? Do you at least like Trinity?” his muffled voice asked.

“Yeah, I really do.” Dennis’s words were traced with fondness, so Robby withdrew his hands. “She’s an annoying older sister, but I love her to death. It’s the first time in twenty years I’ve been relaxed in a home.” He smirked. “You’re always invited over.”

Robby concealed his impulse to say hell no, but retracted that when thinking about the kind of place he’d live in. Dennis cooking dinner and sleeping in his bed gave Robby chills down his spine, reminding him to stop thinking about an intern in such a domestic way. Yet he sensed that everything Dennis had, Robby had a better version for him—the best food, the best couch, the best shower, the best bed.

“I’m guessing that’s a no?” Dennis asked.

Shit, Robby never answered the question. It was good that he interrupted when he did. Bed and Dennis in the same thought would’ve been detrimental. 

“I can’t imagine Santos would want to see me outside of work.”

“Eh, you can come over when she’s not around.” Robby’s heart pounded in his ears. Dennis fumbled with his words,  “Sorry. That, uh, sounded wrong. I didn’t mean it in that way.”

“You’re fine.” A nagging part of Robby didn’t want to hear an apology. “My turn?”

“Go ahead.” 

Robby waited for a second to prepare mentally. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this honest with someone. Jack kept trying to convince him to go to therapy, but Robby would always push it aside and say he never had the time. Maybe the first thing he should do when he got home was regretfully explore the option.

“I worked hard to get where I am, and a big part of me really likes the control I have because of it. I thought I was ready to have it, but recently, I feel the fear of everything. Of disappointment. Of anger. Of sadness. It’s all on my shoulders, and I just thought that it’d get easier. But it hasn’t.” He followed the grain on the timber wall. “And I don’t think it ever will.” Dennis was silent on the other side, so he continued, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’ve hurt a lot of people. And as much as I want the guilt to go away, it seems to worsen and pile up. I try to push it aside, I really do. I’m in the influence, I’m the teacher, I should know when to take a fucking break, but I can’t find it in myself to do so.” He stressfully rubbed his forehead. “I crash and burn like a goddamn idiot, and I dragged you with me. So I guess my confession is that I try to mean well, kid, but it never comes out that way.”

Robby’s eye catches the shadow of Dennis on the other side, thoughtfully tilting his head. “We’re all our worst enemies,” he said. “I’m not sure if it’d bring you peace of mind, but I never thought of you that way. Even when you yelled at me.” His words brought more than peace of mind to Robby’s brain. “I’m not saying you haven’t made mistakes. But you’ve also made miracles. We’ve saved so many people. I’ve saved so many people. And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Robby’s bloodstream warmed. He took off his jacket and swore Dennis stiffened on the other side. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” Robby said. It got him everywhere.

“I’m serious.” He heard Dennis’s smirk. “And I’m not just saying that to save my ass. You really have helped me. I was in a pretty dark place, too.”

A dark place. “How dark?” Robby was afraid of the response.

By the swallow on the other side of the window, he braced himself. 

“Dark. I, uh.” Silence. “I attempted once.” More silence. Achingly painful silence. Robby couldn’t muster words when he felt like his heart had been staked. “Sorry,” Dennis quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. That was—I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s fine,” he gently said before he remembered the promise he made. He couldn’t see Dennis as weak. “You got out of that place, that’s good. You should be proud.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes it still comes out to play. Not often. But it does.” Dennis took a deep breath, and from his side, he asked, as low as a whisper, “Have you ever—” He couldn’t even finish the question.

Robby clenched his jaw and tried to swallow down the lump of emotion in his throat. His eyes stung once again, but this time, he didn’t want to blink the pain away. He let his vision blur.

“Yeah,” the confession came out shakily. “Yeah, once.”

This silence was different than all the others. It wasn’t charged with tension or reconciliation, but understanding and comfort. A silent message of, I’m glad you’re still here to talk to me. A tear trickled down from Robby’s eye and splashed on his hand. He almost wiped it away out of habit until he heard Dennis catching his breath. The shadow was shaking. 

“I’ve never told anyone that before,” Dennis’s voice wavered.

Robby slightly shook his head at the pain he wished he could take away from him. “Neither have I,” he admitted. Dennis sniffled, and as much as Robby didn’t want to make him hurt further, Robby asked, “Why did you?”

Robby’s gaze never wavered as he could see the outline of Dennis wiping his cheek. “Same reason as most people,” Dennis answered. “I was too tired of everything, and sleeping my life away never made the pain in my chest stop.”

For the first time, he imagined seeing Dennis outside of this booth, never looking at his undereyes quite the same.

Robby’s lips trembled as he smoothed the tear on his hand. “When?”

Dennis breathed out, amused, and then his voice cracked, “It wasn’t after, Robby.”

Relief flooded him so viscerally that he couldn’t help but let out a strangled noise. It definitely made Dennis realize that he was just as emotional, yet the vulnerability didn’t scare him as much as it used to.

“I haven’t attempted since I moved here. I couldn’t do that to Trinity.”

Robby wanted to add, Don’t do that to me, but his mouth didn’t move. 

“When did you?” Dennis asked. 

“I don’t know.” He did know. “Maybe three years ago.” Three years, four months, and twenty days.

“That’s recent,” Dennis whispered.

“I won’t do it again,” Robby promised before he could tell himself not to.

“Good. Please, don’t.” 

They took a moment to level their breathing. Robby didn’t know how much time they had left, but didn’t want to check his phone clock to see.

“Can I be honest with you?” Dennis asked after a minute.

Robby scoffed. “Were we not being honest this whole time?”

“I mean, like, honest, honest.” He sighed. “Like…probably too honest.”

Robby’s leg repeatedly tapped again. The warmth of his blood began to freeze in anticipation. “Always.”

Robby shouldn’t be nervous. They’d already made it through the thick of the storm, right? What else was there to talk about? How much else could he survive through?

“I was telling the truth when I said that I kept finding it harder to believe. In God.” Robby’s heart thumped in tune with the words Dennis spoke. “Because I fear that when I pray, I don’t think of Him. And when I do, it isn’t truly…Him.” Dennis shook as he said, “It’s you.”

Goosebumps littered Robby’s body. Dennis was delusional. He had to be. He’d quickly take back what he said. 

But he never did. 

“What do you mean?” Robby asked, low.

He stabbed his fingernails into his palm, daring to draw blood that only got colder. 

“I mean that I’m—I’m at your mercy, Robby.” Dennis softly said “shit” under his breath before he admitted, “I’m at your mercy because whenever I picture God, he looks like you.”

Robby’s throat bobbed at the confession as Dennis whispered words he couldn’t decipher on the other side. 

What. The. Fuck.

Dennis’s confession was one thing. It was inappropriate, and Robby should obviously draw the line at what he said. But something else bubbled in Robby’s gut. Something like goddamn reciprocation. Something like attraction, thinking about Dennis on his knees and closing his eyes while following his every order.

Robby hated how he desperately wanted substance out of this. He hated how every single outlying emotion he felt for him that might’ve been desire wasn’t being repressed. He hated how easy it was to imagine their life together if he weren’t such a ruined man.

“Say something,” Dennis begged. “Please. Don’t tell me I messed this up.”

God, this wasn’t a professional talk anymore. They could’ve left ten minutes ago if they really wanted to. But, no. Instead, they admitted things they never had before. They—fuck—they understood each other. 

“You didn’t mess up,” Robby said, stern and guarded, afraid his real voice would give the impression of what he truly wanted. “The only mess up would be if we did things about it.”

Dennis slightly gasped. Robby’s spine tingled at the noise. 

“And you don’t want to?”

Robby closed his eyes. “We can’t.”

“I never said anything about can’t. I said want.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Robby gritted out. 

“Yeah, it does.”

Of course, Dennis would never let him get away easily. Not without admitting the worst sin possible for him in this stupid wooden box. 

“It does because I know what we have,” Dennis said. “I know when to keep things hidden versus when to confess them. And every time you touch me, you feel it. I feel it. I revel in it when you touch me. I don’t want you to stop ever. Please don’t stop.” 

Robby’s body betrayed him at the whimpering mess Dennis became. He bit his tongue hard enough for a metallic taste to flood his mouth while he gripped the bench, but it was no use. The tent in his pants was prominent now. 

“Okay, fine,” Dennis’s voice shook the more Robby never responded. “We can pretend that never happened. I will stay away from you. You can change me to the night shift. Just don’t fire me for what I said. I’ll repent—”

“Stop talking.”

Dennis did as told, like the obedient student he was. Robby wished to glimpse how he appeared on the other side with his subtle curls and his blue eyes that always seemed to stare through him. Robby stopped imagining when his hard-on worsened.

“Don’t dig yourself into a bigger grave. It won’t end well.”

Dennis waited a moment after Robby was done before he asked, “What won’t end well? Me or us?”

“Both.” Robby huffed and rubbed his face. “I will hurt you. I will make you hate me, not intentionally. But it’ll happen. And fuck, if we did this and I saw you walk out my door, that would ruin me more than anything. Because you’re about the only person who still believes in me, Dennis. Fullheartedly. And if you look closer than at work and see the god-awful mess of a bad person I am, you’ll run away. I know you will. I’m saving you from it. From me.”

“Then why am I still here?” 

Robby wanted to believe his sentiment, but he buried it deep like a grave. “Because I’m your boss and you don’t want to get fired.”

“That’s a load of bullshit,” Dennis forced out. “And you know that, too.” Robby opened his mouth to speak, but Dennis beat him to it. “You talk about being miserable and about being alone. You wanna know why? Because you push away anything good that happens to you. You don’t even give it a chance. Give me a chance.” 

“Dennis.” Robby’s plea came out strangled. 

“I’ve already seen this ‘god-awful’ version of you. I saw you in that room, I saw you yesterday when you yelled at me, and I see you now. And I have never thought you were a bad person. Just human. Experiencing pain is what we have to do to live and move on. Don’t punish yourself for it.”

Robby ran his fingers through his hair that was beginning to gray. He wetted his lips and sighed. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to grapple with his old ways of making people run away before they could abandon him, but it was the only option he had. 

“Leave or I will,” he ordered.

The silence deafened the box, making it a torture chamber, and the staggering heat returned at full force when Dennis whispered, “What?”

Robby’s vision grew blurry for the second fucking time. “I said, leave or I will.”

Nothing happened for a few seconds until the wood finally creaked from the other side. Robby stared down at his shoes that were still damp from the snow, and followed the laces. He heard the door open and close, but only two footsteps were heard. 

As Robby began to thumb his tears away, his door opened. He jolted and looked up to see Dennis, whose eyes were red-rimmed and his soft mouth turned into a frown.

Robby probably appeared the same. 

“I thought you were good at listening to directions, Whitaker.” He never met his gaze.

Dennis stepped into the box. It was crammed as he shut the door behind him, and before Robby could even fathom the words to tell the kid to get off, Dennis straddled him in his lap.

“I am,” Dennis replied with their faces inches apart. “I’m really good at listening.”

Robby shook his head, still never looking into Dennis’s eyes, still never having the courage to. “This isn’t right. You know it isn’t.”

“Us comforting each other isn’t right?” 

“Oh, fuck off, Dennis.” Robby didn’t mean for it to be callous, but it didn’t surprise him that it was. “You admitted it to me. I basically admitted it to you. And now we’re in this tight space, and you’re on me. What the hell else is this supposed to be?”

Dennis’s throat bobbed in indignation. “I wouldn’t fuck you in a church. I have more class than that.” Robby’s crotch traitorously twitched. Dennis tried to hide his smirk when he felt it. “Do you have more class than that, Dr. Robby?”

With their lips hovering over each other, Robby’s stomach heaved against Dennis. Dennis’s eyebrows downturned as he felt his breath on his mouth, wanting to consume his air and nothing else for the rest of time.

Robby would blame his red face on the heat of the box, and never the heat of their bodies pressed too close together. 

“You like control,” Dennis said. He lifted his hand to run his fingers through Robby’s hair. It took all of Robby’s self-restraint not to lean into his touch. “So, tell me what we should do now. Should we leave and go our separate ways?” Robby couldn’t help but feel weak in the tone of Dennis’s soft voice. Dennis’s pupils widen and darken, almost covering all the shade of his innocent blue. His fingers tightened in his hair. “Or should you fuck me?”

Robby’s mouth immediately dried up, and his heart rapidly beat out of his chest as Dennis tilted his head. 

“We could do it here,” Dennis suggested, “Or in your car.” His whispers trailed to Robby’s ear, and his hot breath left a chill in his wake. “Or you could finally be excited to go home and fuck me there.” He got closer. “On any surface. At any time.”

“Dennis,” Robby didn’t trust his mouth to say anything more but his name.

“It’s all up to you.”

His fingers remained slicing through his hair, and damn did Robby miss someone touching him like this—so intimate and gentle. That was until Dennis scratched his scalp in a slow circle, and Robby finally let go, groaning and leaning his face forward in the crook of Dennis’s neck. 

“Is that good?” Dennis’s words hitched in his throat.

Robby nodded as his lips trembled against his pillowy skin. He desired to bite and mark him as a reminder that Dennis Whitaker, of all people, worshipped him. His teeth grazed his neck, and Dennis tensed, slightly rocking his hips back and forth, desperate for the connection. 

“Please,” he begged. “Please let yourself have me.”

His statement made Robby pause. Let himself have him? For forever? For today? For two months, when it’d never work out? What the hell was Robby thinking? He roped Dennis, his student, into all of this for what? For an unsatisfying future or a one-time fuck?

He couldn’t do that. He knew he couldn’t. Not when he cared so much about him.

After a second of letting himself soak in the touch and scent of Dennis, Robby retracted his face and studied the intern in his lap. 

“I’m in control?” Robby asked. 

Dennis immediately nodded with anxiousness, shifting in his lap and straightening his posture. He appeared so excited, like a puppy waiting for a bone.

Robby swallowed hard. “Then we should leave and go our separate ways.”

Dennis’s hopeful smirk slowly dropped in realization. “What—what do you mean?”

“I won’t fire you. Don’t worry about that.”

Dennis shook his head and scoffed. “You think I only care about not being fired? Are you kidding me?” His voice was so hurt that Robby couldn’t stare at him anymore. “I care about you. I care about why you think you shouldn’t have this—”

“Leave or I will.”

Dennis glared at the repeated phrase he never listened to. “Look me in the eye, tell you don’t want this, and I will.”

Robby’s heart panged in his chest, but he forced himself to look, even if it was obvious it hurt him. “I don’t want this,” he strangled out.

Dennis flinched, and just like that, they were back to square one, with the taste of sand and blood back in Robby’s mouth. Dennis’s eyes watered, but unlike Robby, he didn’t try to hide his pain. “I thought I knew you better than this.”

Like a knife repeatedly stabbed him over again, his body went weak at the jab Dennis made. It resembled something Robby would say. 

“I warned you I’m a bad person,” he replied.

Dennis’s face scrunched up in pain as Robby felt the absence of a loving body on his. Dennis scrambled to open the door and turned back with tears overflowing in his eyes. 

“And I warned you that I’m at your mercy, anyway,” he said and slammed the door shut.

Only the sound of pounding footsteps and small weepings filled the space until they eventually drifted off. 

There was nothing about Dennis Whitaker that Robby had to think about, except that he was a good student and always listened. That was the way it should be. 

When Robby was sure silence surrounded him, he let out the visceral sob he’d been holding in ever since he set foot in the box.

+++++

Dennis worked the next day, which was when Robby was off. The first hour in, and he’d already messed up without the small touches and guidance. Safe to say, it was a rougher shift than normal, and damnit, he missed him. 

He knew he shouldn’t have, but all Dennis could think about was the war in Robby’s eyes as he had to force himself to say no. 

Dennis realized he wasn’t in the right either. Straddling, touching all over him, and explaining how he wanted them to fuck wasn’t the greatest way to go about things. But he almost had him. He almost convinced him that they could’ve been something great. Robby was about to sink his teeth into Dennis’s skin. So what happened? 

“Hey, Whitaker.”

Dennis jolted out of his thoughts and smirked at Jack, who was placing his jacket in his locker while Dennis took his out. 

“Hey, Dr. Abbott.”

“So,” Jack sighed, but gave him a nudge, “don’t worry about night shift. We’re not as scary as you think.” Dennis tilted his head in confusion, but Jack continued, “Sure, there’s a lot of sex related stuff, but we get a good kick out of it.”

“Wait, what do you mean? Why would I need to worry about the night shift?”

Jack halted, and when realization hit him, he groaned. “Robby didn’t tell you, did he?”

Dennis already knew where this was going, but his lips trembled as he asked, “Tell me what?”

Jack studied the hurt in his eyes. “He moved you from the day shift. I knew it was weird because I thought you guys would work things out civilly, but he said it was for the best. He cares a lot about you.”

Jack didn’t know, but the last sentence felt like rubbing salt in a sensitive wound—drenching blood on crystals that could’ve been pretty. 

Dennis nodded and forced a smile. It wavered as he said, “Yeah, I know.”

Jack patted him on the shoulder as he shut his locker. He walked away, leaving Dennis standing like an idiot in the middle of the hallway. 

Shortly after, Dennis left the ED, and on the whole walk home, he mumbled scriptures under his breath and cursed his God about his penance.