Archive of Our Own

“Hey Whitaker, a moment.” Dennis already had his bag slung over his shoulder and was on his way out for the day when Robby’s voice cut through the noise behind him. He stopped for a moment, just long enough for Robby to catch up and grab him by the shoulder, ushering them both out the door and toward the sidewalk. “I, um… I’ve got a favor to ask. And you’re more than welcome to say no, because I know it’s a big ask on short notice.”

“Um, yeah. Shoot. What’s up?”

“So I’m leaving in about a week for my sabbatical.”

“On a motorcycle, I hear.” They stopped walking when Robby felt Dennis’s glare, and he looked down at him, confirming the expression on the younger man’s face, some cross between indignance and worry that made Robby’s chest ache.

“I’ve been riding longer than you’ve been alive.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Robby flinched and crinkled his nose at how condescending it sounded aloud. “Which is to say that I promise I’ll be careful.” His hand squeezed Dennis’s shoulder again, spurring on their movements, and they continued walking. “I could use a housesitter while I’m out. Just someone to check in on the place, maybe give it a light dusting once a week. Make sure it’s not burnt down or flooded in some freak accident. Of course you’re welcome to stay over, too. It’s my understanding that Doctor Santos’s relationship with Doctor Garcia is… flourishing. And that maybe you’d both do well with more privacy.”

Dennis’s feet slowed as they approached a covered bus stop, finally stilling once they were underneath the metal sign indicating the stop number. “That is true. I mean, yeah, I could drop by, keep an eye on things, stay over on date nights that are always at our place for some reason...”

“I should tell you, though…” Robby stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and picked at the loose, pilled fuzz in them nervously. “There’s one slight catch, if you can call it that. It’s maybe the biggest part of the whole… thing.” Dennis’s eyebrow arched upward, and he nodded, encouraging Robby to continue. “So it’s a duplex, and it sits on top of a little cafe. Really nice spot, great coffee and pastries. And the owner, Richie, is also my neighbor. We both own our places outright, so he’s not my landlord or anything, but he is a friend. Every morning -rain or shine, work or not- I go down to the cafe, get a coffee and a bagel, and shoot the shit with Richie for about fifteen, twenty minutes. While I’m gone, I’ve assured him that I’ll keep him updated on my trip. I’ve also already paid him up front for three months worth of coffee and bagels.”

The realization spread across Dennis’s face lips-first, his mouth tugging up into a sort of soft, genuine smile. “You want me to have coffee with Richie?”

“And a bagel. He’ll take it personally if you don’t have a bagel. He makes them fresh daily, it’s his bubbe’s recipe, and they are genuinely the best bagels in town. He’ll tell you they are, but it’s true, too.”

“Got it. No skipping on the bagels.”

“And I’ll shoot you a text daily, either right before bed or first thing in the morning, so you can give him an update on my progress. He’s not the texting type. He’s barely the e-mailing type.” A quiet beat passed, and Robby shook his head. “All this to say, you know, if you want to. Again, no pressure, I’m not going to hold it against you if-”

“No, I’d love to. It sounds kind of fun actually. And I love a good bagel.” The hissing and squeaking of brakes washed over them as a city bus rolled to a stop next to them. “We’ll talk more tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Sounds great. And thank you.”

“Of course.” Dennis turned toward the bus and ascended the steps, and Robby watched the doors shut behind him, the foggy glass barely obscuring the sight of him fiddling for his bus pass even as the driver accelerated and pulled away from the curb.

Robby’s place was closer to work than Dennis’s, making it an easy decision to stay there on nights when Dennis worked the following day. The nearest bus stop was just across the street, as opposed to down the block, and if he wanted to walk instead, it was a casual thirty minute flat trek. The house itself was nice, too, furnished with refurbished secondhand pieces and tall bookshelves. The couch was large and plush, and the bed was bigger than any Dennis had ever seen. Even the shower was nicer than Dennis was used to, with a built-in seat and solid water pressure and an adjustable shower head that loosened up his muscles and left him more relaxed than he realized one could be this deep into adulthood.

Richie, too, was a delight. He was no more than five years Robby’s senior and of comparable height and build, but much more boisterous in a way that Dennis found endearing. Dennis suspected he was bald, but he couldn’t prove it, as Richie was wearing the same faded, pompom-topped Steelers beanie every time he saw him, despite the summer heat. And somehow Richie had known who he was as soon as Dennis walked in the first day, greeting him with a warm “Good morning, Doctor Dennis!” as soon as the overhead bell jingled when he entered the cafe. By the end of the first week, Dennis was already certain he’d be returning post-housesitting, if only to hear that enthusiastic greeting, though Robby was right about the bagels being the best in town, too, and that alone would be worth the pitstop.

As promised, Robby texted Dennis at least once a day, updating him on his trip. Two weeks in he even received a postcard in the mail -to Robby’s address but under Dennis’s name- with a simple smiley face and quickly scribbled “MR” in the message portion. The next morning, Dennis’s phone rang just as he was rinsing the toothpaste from his mouth. It wasn’t until he answered that he even realized who was calling, having clumsily picked the phone up without checking the caller ID first. “‘Ello?”

“You burn the place down yet?”

“Doctor Robby! Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to call. I- Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s great. Just figured I’d call instead of texting this time.”

“The open road has you feeling adventurous.”

“I guess so.” His voice was low and gruff with sleep, the way it was on slower mornings when Robby had time to ease the On switch into position with slow sips of coffee and checking his e-mail from a desktop instead of on his phone during handoff. “So how’s it going back home?”

“Um, great. Really great. I’m, uh…” The bedroom was across the hall from the bathroom, and Dennis hurried into it, to where his clothes were folded on the bed. Dennis had never had a space all to himself. Even when he was squatting in the hospital, he operated like he had roommates, never allowing himself the vulnerability of something as simple as walking a few yards from one room to the next in the nude, and the unexpected phone call had him feeling particularly, if not erroneously, exposed. He tucked his phone in the crook of his neck, wedging it in place between his ear and shoulder, and quickly snatched up his boxers and pulled them on. “I’m at your place currently. It’s really nice. Thank you again for letting me stay here.”

“Thank you for staying. The bed comfortable?”

“Oh, it’s incredible! I didn’t even realize beds came that big. You could probably fit three people in it.” His sigh was surely audible over the line, along with the frustrated, mumbled “shit” under his breath. “That was a weird thing to say. Um… My brothers and I slept two to a bed for a bit when we were little, so it’s not like- We were two kids in a full size and that seemed huge, and as an adult, a king size-”

“Alaskan king. And it is, in fact, designed to sleep three adults. Or one exhausted emergency medicine doctor.”

“Well, it’s certainly serving its purpose then, even in your absence.”

“Let Richie know I’ll be crossing into Canada today. And less of interest to him but possibly more to you, I stopped by the Billings Clinic. I know it’s a sabbatical, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to do a little networking while I was out this way. I grabbed a lot of interesting literature and contact information, I’ll mail it out before I hit the border.” He groaned softly, the sound of a stretch evident in the soft noises coming over the line, and let out a heavy sigh. “Alright, I don’t want to keep Rich or you waiting, so I’ll let you go. Remember, you’ve got free reign of the place, stay as often as you like, just no crazy house parties.”

“You know me and my crazy house parties.” Dennis laughed and sighed softly to himself when Robby did the same. “Alright, well, be safe. If you have a chance maybe, you know, text me when you make it into Canada. Just, like, if you have the time. Or whatever.”

“Of course I will. Take care, Whitaker.”

“You too.”

Robby called again a couple days later, and then again a couple of days after that, and by the time week five of his sabbatical began, he was calling every day, either first thing in the morning or right before bed. The conversations had gone from quick two minute check-ins to five minute chats and before long they were talking for twenty minutes at a time.

Dennis promised to not talk about work, which, in turn, led to them both talking much more about themselves than they really had before. For Robby it was easy. Every day brought some new experience or natural wonder to indulge in, a new meal or interesting local legend to talk about and discuss. Dennis would ask questions and engage, both because he wanted to, but because it saved him from having to divulge too much about himself. At some point, Dennis realized, he’d gone from content with his humble beginnings to concerned that he was simply not interesting enough. He was interesting enough for himself, sure, and Trinity seemed to find him adequately amusing and useful enough to keep around. So when there was nothing else to talk about, Dennis talked about that. “I’m kind of jealous at this point.”

“Of my midlife crisis?”

“Your words, not mine.” Dennis fell onto his back on the mattress with a chuckle, holding the phone to his ear with one hand while the other rested on his stomach, lazily tracing formless lines and shapes across his skin. It was softer now that he was using Robby’s shower more regularly, the older man’s home equipped with a water softener and some coffee-scented name brand body wash that Dennis had already replaced after using it once and falling in love with it. “No, the whole… life on the open road thing. Getting out and seeing new places and creating new memories. I ran out of interesting anecdotes a week ago.”

“I doubt that. There’s still plenty I don’t know about you.”

“Like what? I’m an open book.”

There was a soft hum on the other line, and Dennis pictured him going through some dusty mental Rolodex of ‘getting to know you’ questions. “How’d you and Santos end up roommates?”

Suddenly Dennis was coughing on his own spit, or perhaps just the sudden clamping shut of his throat, and he sat up quickly to retrieve a bottle of water on the nightstand. Once he finally got a drink, he sat the bottle down and took a deep breath. “Oh. I, um- Well, we were-”

“Sorry, I thought- I mean, it’s not unusual for med students and even interns to live together. I know Craigslist isn’t really a thing like it used to be, but I thought maybe there was some kind of- of forum or something for recent or soon-to-be graduates to kind of…” Robby’s voice trailed off slightly, and he cleared his throat before speaking again, more slowly, an apologetic twinge in his voice. “I wasn’t trying to suggest that-”

“I was homeless.” Dennis hadn’t meant to say it. While it was arguably one of the more intriguing parts of his life, it was also one of the more painful ones, and not exactly on his list of personal fun facts that he was quick to offer up. Even he and Trinity hadn’t talked about it since their very first night as roommates. It was a sleeping dog that he’d been happy to let lie, but now it was barking, and he couldn’t get it to stop. “It- I had a roof over my head, I wasn’t, you know, on the street or anything. But yeah, she found out. Accidentally.”

“A roof over your head? So you were couch surfing or…” A moment of silence fell between them before Robby spoke again. “That’s- Sorry, it’s none of my business. I’m just glad you’re in a better place now. And if you’re not, tell me. I use the spare room as a home office, but I could easily put a day bed in there if-”

“No, I’m- Thank you. But yeah, no, I’m in a better place. A good place. Trinity is an angel. Kind of a wild one, as angels go, but an angel.”

“We’re lucky to have her.”

“Yeah.” The silence felt different then. Fuller and warmer, almost welcome, as Dennis crawled more fully into the bed and pulled the comforter over himself. “We’re lucky to have you, too. Even luckier to have you back once you’ve found yourself or whatever it is you’re doing.” He held his breath, praying that his tone came off as playfully as he intended, and exhaled a deep sigh of relief when Robby laughed on the other end.

“Here’s hoping. You think you could hold down the fort another month if I don’t?”

“Absolutely not.” His teeth immediately clamped onto his tongue as Dennis held back his next thought, barely catching the words behind his lips in time to keep them from slipping out. I already miss you too much as it is.

“I’ll keep it to three then. Just for you.” Another warm wave of shared silence rolled over them, and Dennis could hear rustling on the other end of the line, like Robby, too, was tucking himself into bed. Despite the time difference, they’d remained on a similar sleep schedule, likely by design for the sake of Robby’s own internal clock when he returned. When the sound of blankets and pillows being adjusted faded back into that of only Robby’s soft breathing, he spoke again, a soft, gruff sound that was half absorbed by his pillow on the way to the receiver and, consequently, Dennis’s ears. “Sweet dreams, Dennis.”

“Goodnight, Robby.”

By week nine of twelve, Dennis was staying every night at Robby’s, though still coming home long enough to do laundry and have dinner with Trinity a couple nights a week, but at the start of week ten, he packed up his remaining few pieces of clothing and said he was going to spend the last two weeks strictly at Robby’s. “I’ve noticed a few little odd jobs I could do around his place. The shower could use some fresh caulk-”

Trinity cut him off with a snort. “Yeah, I bet.”

Dennis rolled his eyes and laughed. “You know what I said. Plus he’s got a leaky faucet, some squeaky doors, and God his fridge is- Look, I didn’t say this, but you can tell the man is a bachelor. He’s not even going to realize that I threw some of that shit away except for maybe his spirit will be a little lighter for it. Who has three opened bottles of expired mustard?!”

“A bachelor. Apparently one in need of a housewife, which it sounds like you’re working on becoming. You trying to woo the old man, Denny?”

“I- Jesus, Trin, no, I’m trying to be nice.”

“Did you forget that you’re the one doing him a favor?”

“I… Well, I mean, he’s-”

“No, it’s- I’m sorry.” She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him gently back and forth. “It’s sweet. Really. And I’ve seen your handiwork around here, so I’m sure he’d benefit from you going all Bob the Builder in his house. Besides…” She drew the last syllable out slowly, averting her eyes for a moment before looking back to Dennis and squeezing his shoulders again. “It would be, like, so super cool of you to stay over there next week for sure because Yolanda and I both managed to cash in some PTO so…”

“Say no more. Next week this place is just Birkenstocks and Melissa Etheridge and- Do lesbians still listen to Melissa Etheridge or-”

“Oh shut up. Go.” She shoved him playfully toward the door. “Love you, asshole.”

“Love you more.”

Dennis had just finished putting the last of the fresh groceries in the refrigerator when he heard the front door open. His eyes quickly darted to the calendar, the days marked off with diagonal streaks of black Sharpie -another of Robby’s routines he’d kept up on in his absence- before quickly checking his phone for any missed calls or messages. Robby wasn’t due back for another week. The door shut, no more heavy than light, followed by a thud on the floor. Slow footsteps trudged along the wooden floorboards, drawing nearer to the kitchen with every step. Dennis shot up straight, glancing around until his eyes fell on the knife block on the countertop, and he grabbed the first one he could reach before swallowing hard and steadying his voice. “Who’s there?”

“Dennis? Sorry, I didn’t realize you were-” Suddenly Robby rounded the corner, only to find Dennis cowering opposite him on shaky knees, wedged in against the lazy Susan where the sink met the countertop and brandishing a serrated bread knife in his trembling hands. “Didn’t realize I’d gotten the housesitter-home security bundle when I hired you.”

“Jesus, Robby, I- You’re early. Like, really early. Is everything okay?” Dennis nervously slid the knife back into its slot before slumping over onto his elbows, leaning them on the kitchen island amongst a pile of empty cloth grocery bags.

“Everything’s fine. Jack had made a similar ‘no work talk’ promise but then let it slip that we were going to be down a resident this week, and I was already heading back east by the time it came up.”

“Oh shit.” Dennis crinkled his nose up and bit his lip nervously before standing back up straight with a sigh. “Yeah, Trin. She and Yolanda are taking PTO together this week.”

Robby smiled broadly and nodded, slowly striding toward the refrigerator. “And you were going to stay here to give them space.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal. There’s actually an Airbnb between here and there that I could-”

“Holy shit, Dennis, did you…?” The refrigerator door was open, and Robby was scanning over it with his eyes. He knelt down and swiped his finger over one of the glass shelves before examining it, a pleased chuckle bouncing off the walls of the kitchen.

“Sorry. Yeah, I- Um, maybe I was overstepping, but I figured if I was eating your food, I should replace it, and then if I was replacing it, you know, I might as well deep clean the fridge while it’s empty and… Sorry.”

“Are you kidding? This is incredible. God, if anything I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it was before.” He pulled out a can of sparkling water and cracked it open before closing the door and switching to the freezer, looking it over with a similarly pleasantly surprised smile.

“I, uh, did a couple other things, too. Just sort of odd job type of stuff. It…” He cut himself off with his own nervous chuckling and followed Robby as he made his way toward the hallway, continuing at his heels as Robby grabbed his bag where he’d left it by the front door on his way to the bedroom.

“I really appreciate it. That’s…” Robby’s voice stopped suddenly, and he turned toward the bedroom door. He grabbed the handle, moving it back and forth a couple of times with furrowed brows and a tilt of his head. “This door…”

“Oh, yeah, it just needed some WD-40. Also your top hinge was missing a screw, which is why it was a little wobbly. Sorry if the squeak was part of the ambiance. I could try to, um, re… squeak it? I’ve never done that, but I could probably-”

“No, I- That’s one of those things I sort of always meant to do but never did.”

“Yeah, I uh… Sorry, I just-” They made eye contact for a moment, and Dennis felt the tension melt from his shoulders when Robby offered him a soft, gracious smile. “So part of me staying with Trinity is before I started getting paid I was paying rent in, like, cleaning and home repairs and, you know, I’m pretty good at it. Not a tradesman by any means, but I think I do good work for an ameteur.”

Robby swung the door back and forth again before continuing onward. “Hell of a lot better than I’d’ve done with it. I could’ve figured out the WD-40, but I wouldn’t’ve thought to check for missing screws.”

“Yeah, it was just slightly off-kilter, and- Oh wow, yeah, sorry about the bed not being made. I overslept a bit so I kind of hustled out of the door this morning to talk to Richie before heading to the store.”

The mattress sunk in under the weight of Robby’s bag as he dropped it onto the bed, and he set his drink aside on the nightstand before opening up the bag and unpacking it. “I almost never make it, so it didn’t even faze me to be honest.”

“So, uh, the Trinity thing.” Dennis watched as Robby emptied the bag, gathering a pile of dirty laundry in his arms and walking it over to the hamper, and he followed behind, a puppy trailing his master’s heels wordlessly and obediently. “I’ll get my stuff gathered up and go ahead and reserve that Airbnb I mentioned. I don’t-”

“Absolutely not.” The clothes hit the bottom of the hamper with a soft thud, and Robby turned to face Dennis. “Stay here. I came back early, you had plans. You’ve been a huge help, I’m not just kicking you out because I’m back. It’s the least I could do.”

“Are you sure? I can’t imagine you’re ready for company your first night back. Let alone a whole week.”

“I insist.” He moved back to the bed, gathering up the remaining clothing and taking it to the dresser. “The couch is a pull-out. I’ll take it.”

“I’ll stay, but I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own home, that’s nuts.”

Robby continued to seemingly float around the room, tucking away clean clothes and making tidy piles of pill bottles and toiletries and tchotchkes he’d picked up on his travels. “Fine, take the couch, as long as you’re not wasting money on an Airbnb.” Finally he turned back to Dennis, and Dennis was sure he’d never seen him so relaxed. His hair was mussed and his beard noticeably longer than he typically wore it, and there were faint tan lines around his eyes where he’d been wearing sunglasses. Robby’s arms, too, were darker than normal, from hours in the sun hiking and perusing quaint Main Streets scattered throughout hole-in-the-wall type towns through his travels. Even his shoulders seemed to hang a little lower, enough so that Dennis felt his own slump slightly, suddenly aware of the tension he carried in them now that he was faced with how much less Robby was holding in his own.

When the silence had gone on just a hair too long, Dennis cleared his throat. “I, uh, did a few more odd jobs around the house. Do you want to see? Take the grand tour of your own home?” Robby smiled and nodded in a way that warmed Dennis from the inside out, and so he led Robby from room to room, pointing out more doors that no longer squeaked, a faucet that no longer leaked, and cabinet doors that no longer rattled on their own hinges. He showed him where he’d scraped off the old caulking in the shower and redid it, the edges of the sharp white silicone clean and smooth, before walking him to the vanity that now had four working lightbulbs instead of just three where he’d taken the liberty of adding some along the back of the sink as well.

“Jesus, Dennis, I feel like I should be paying you.”

“God, no. It’s kind of fun, actually. I enjoy this kind of stuff. Keeping busy, fixing stuff. You know, just… contributing.”

“Can I at least buy you dinner?” Instead of waiting for an answer, Robby shoved his phone into Dennis’s hand, the DoorDash app already open.

They had more than enough food due to Dennis letting it slip that he enjoyed Thai but hadn’t tried more than a couple of dishes. Robby had ordered, as best as Dennis could tell, half of the main menu and the entirety of the dessert menu, and had handed the poor delivery driver a cash tip upon arrival in addition to the generous in-app one when he realized he had to make two trips between the car and the porch. They’d settled on some sort of cheesy horror movie, the type of thing they’d both heard of but never taken the time to watch, and even still, their attention was divided, too busy passing takeout containers back and forth and talking about Robby’s trip over beers to pay much attention to the television.

When the movie ended and their bellies were full, they began cleaning up, with Dennis handling the trash while Robby gathered up their leftovers. They moved in silent synchronicity, putting away food and bagging trash and rinsing the recycling in a way that felt more comfortably domestic than either was accustomed to but both seemed to acclimate to seamlessly. Dennis retreated to the bedroom to fold up his own laundry, finally removing it from where it had sat in one of Robby’s hampers since he removed it from the dryer the day before. Just as he’d tucked the last of it into his bag, ready to shift his belongings into the living room, Robby practically snuck in past the now noiseless door. “You want to grab a shower first? I’m liable to really relish the experience of being back in my own place, so I don’t want to cheat you out of any hot water.” 

“Are you sure? It’s your home.”

“I’ve waited three months. What’s a few more minutes?”

He’d already set aside a small stack of clothing -fresh boxers, sweats, and an old t-shirt- and Dennis gathered them up with a nod. “I won’t be long.”

“Take your time. I insist.” The last word came with a warm, broad hand on the nape of Dennis’s neck, and he paused for a moment, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of it wash through him, racing along his skin like wildfire and tingling his fingers and toes as he fought against his own body and its instinct to go limp under Robby’s hand. An inadvertent, soft whine vibrated through his nostrils and his eyes fell shut before he quickly cleared his throat and shuffled onward and out of the room. 

He showered quickly, too afraid to let his hands linger too long on his body now that Robby was back. There was a vulnerability Dennis hadn’t expected in showering in someone else’s home with them present. He’d felt it to some extent his first night at Trinity’s, but he was so exhausted -physically, mentally, spiritually- that he never really had time to feel any sense of exposure about it, the relief too overwhelming for any anxiety to take root. But this was different. He’d never stayed here before with Robby present, despite it being Robby’s own home. There was a reciprocal nature in he and Trinity’s relationship initially, a symbiosis, that made it easy, allowing their relationship to grow in the space where they began, some fertile valley that lies between transactionality and friendship. 

Dennis had lost track of how long he’d been in the shower until he felt his own pruny fingertips press against the base of cock before snatching them back like they’d reached barehanded into hell. He leaned his head back under the shower spray long enough to rinse the remaining shampoo from it, watching until the water swirled sudsless past his feet and down the drain, before turning off the faucet and quickly stepping out to towel himself dry. 

He stepped back into the bedroom fully dressed in his fresh loungewear to find Robby sitting at the foot of the bed, blankets still piled around him and reading glasses perched on his nose as he thumbed through some of the materials he’d mailed back from Montana. “Eager to get back to work?”

Robby turned toward Dennis with a smile and pulled off his glasses. “I kind of am, yeah.”

“Give it a week and get back to me.” Robby laughed and stood up, placing his reading material and glasses on the dresser and exchanging them for a clean set of pajamas of his own and stepping toward the doorway. As he passed Dennis, the younger man swallowed hard before reaching out and pressing his palm gently to Robby’s back, fingertips finding soft purchase against his ribs while his thumb unsuccessfully reached toward his spine, the broadness of Dennis’s palm no match for that of Robby’s back. “Warmed it up for you.”

They were quiet and still, and Robby made no effort to stray from Dennis’s touch. If anything, it seemed, he was indulging in it, not unlike Dennis himself minutes ago, and Dennis breathed in deep and heavy through his nose while swiping his thumb slowly back and forth a couple of times over the soft, well-worn cotton of the old t-shirt Robby wore, still discolored and gritty with kicked-up dirt. There were no creaky hinges to muffle Robby’s voice when he finally spoke in a shuddered whisper and stepped forward. “Appreciate it.”

While Robby showered, Dennis made the bed with fresh sheets that Robby kept tucked in a storage bench under the window. It was the polite thing to do, but there was also a certain panicked urgency to it, the worry that somehow Robby would smell Dennis’s hunger where he’d sweat it into the sheets on the nights he woke up to the sound of his own voice, muddled, whimpered syllables that clambered over his sleepy tongue and spilled past his teeth as Robby’s name while that same guilty desire spilled similarly into his boxers. And sure, Dennis had washed the sheets plenty, but what if the stench of something as voracious as forbidden want lingered? What if it clung to the fibers soaked in spit and sweat, impossibly pungent and telling? 

By the time he was tugging on the final pillowcase, he heard the water shut off, and Dennis pulled down the bed halfway and fluffed the pillows before picking up his bags and moving them to the living room. He came back for his phone charger and a forgotten bottle of water and was just about to stuff them into his pockets when Robby walked back in, a warm wave of humidity and the generic scent of cleanliness following him in like a broad, sweeping cape. “You made the bed.”

“Fresh sheets. Figured it’d be more physically and mentally relaxing that way. I can wash the dirty ones tomorrow. I’d’ve already done it, but-”

“I was early. Don’t worry about it, you’ve done… Jesus, Dennis, more than enough.” Some unspoken understanding caused them both to sit at the foot of the bed, side by side. “Thank you. Truly. And if there’s anything at all…”

“You’re letting me stay this week. We’re even.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.” Dennis nodded, and the silence barely had room to breathe before he finally blurted out what he’d been thinking for hours, days, weeks. “I missed you. I mean, I know we were talking still, but, you know, seeing you. You… You look great by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’ve got color in your cheeks. You look healthy. Happy.”

“No, I mean… you missed me?”

“I…” Dennis felt his face burning as blood rushed to his cheeks, the warmth prickling and pinkening his face, and he breathed out an airy, incredulous laugh. But Robby didn’t reciprocate it, and instead continued looking back with a fondness that Dennis could feel in his bones, and his ribcage especially seemed to swell with it and squeeze his lungs as he tried to catch his breath. “Of course I did. You know, work’s just not the same without you. Looking forward to getting back to normal.” It was a clumsy response, and clearly not reflective of the thoughts that had been pinballing around his mind for months, but Dennis didn’t have time to parse the right words from the wrong ones, so he said something, anything, instead of leaving space between them that would be too tempting to fill with the things he only ever let himself dream about.

Robby’s hands had a new roughness to them, callouses that aligned with handlebars and riding gloves, that Dennis could feel through his t-shirt when the older man’s palm gripped it, a soothing, familiar squeeze that Dennis couldn’t help but close his eyes at the welcome feel of. And then it was dragging across his shoulder blades, gliding wide and warm along the expanse of his back and smoothing out the goosebumps peppering his skin before coming to rest on his opposite shoulder and tightening on it as well. Dennis gave in then, before his brain had a chance to warn him better of it, and his head slumped over, coming to rest on Robby’s shoulder. Once his mind caught up, he flinched, but Robby seemed prepared for it, and his arm tightened to keep him comfortably in place as he spoke quietly into the younger man’s hair. “I missed you, too.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Part of why I started calling. I needed to get away, but I missed hearing familiar voices.” Dennis let Robby take on more of his weight as he relaxed against his side, and Robby could feel his smile where Dennis’s face pressed against his upper arm. Dennis’s hair smelled familiar, like Robby’s own shampoo, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle his nose into the still-damp curls further, breathing in and closing his eyes and, before he could think better of it, kissing the top of the younger man’s head. It was enough to catch Dennis’s attention, for him to register what the warm breath and soft press against his scalp was, and he raised his head only just enough to catch Robby’s eyes with his own. The hand not wrapped around him was suddenly moving upward and cupping his jaw, and until feeling it pressed to his face, Dennis realized he’d grossly underestimated the true size and strength and even comfort of Robby’s hands.

Dennis had always imagined that, should this moment ever come, should this gentle touch ever grace his skin, that it would be rash and anxious, a frantic crescendo of his blood pumping in his ears and his lungs aching and pummeling like fireplace bellows. Instead it was calm and cool, an echoing, vast, sterile blueness, like an indoor swimming pool. Except Dennis couldn’t swim, and he reached out, grasping on to the first thing he could before succumbing to whatever decadent drowning was about to befall him. So with his fists balled in Robby’s t-shirt -something threadbare with cracked screen print of a year that predated Dennis’s own birthyear- Dennis leaned in, and Robby met him halfway there, and suddenly he was being kissed in a way he’d only ever seen in movies. A way that felt like birdsong and violins, like warm tea and honey on a cold morning, like a new pair of shoes that fit right straight from the box without first muddling through the painful breaking-in phase. Robby’s kiss was exhilarating and familiar like a long forgotten memory suddenly surfacing, sending Dennis’s heart racing with nostalgia for something he’d once loved and lost and locked away to suppress the ache of having gone without.

Somewhere along the way of the lights and colors and fire and ice that swirled through him, rushing seemingly from Robby’s spirit into his own, Dennis’s body had begun to move, and when he finally pulled his lips away to reluctantly gasp for breath, he was astride Robby’s lap, with warm hands under his t-shirt and pressed against his back. “Fuck, Robby. Three months.” He shoved Robby backwards onto the mattress, and they both scrambled upward, until Robby’s head was comfortably propped on a pillow and he could drag Dennis forward, back into place straddling his thighs. Their lips met once more before Dennis’s hands were shoving up underneath Robby’s shirt, tracing the curve of his stomach with his hands, gasping at the shower-damp tackiness on his skin, the roughness of the smattered dark hair across his belly, as they made their way upward, until he was shoving the clothing up and off over Robby’s head. “Three months of being surrounded by you without you being here. It’s been hell. It’s been hell realizing just how bad I want you. Not knowing if you feel the same way.”

“I do. Jesus, Den, I do.” Their hands tangled as they fought with Dennis’s shirt, giggling nervously like eager young lovers as they discarded both shirts to the floor. Robby’s hands grasped onto Dennis’s hips, and he shifted their weight, quickly rolling Dennis onto his back and kneeling between the younger man’s spread legs. “Just couldn’t admit it to myself without a few hundred miles of buffer in between us.”

Their lips met again as they continued clumsily undressing, no longer inhibited by the colliding of tongues and hungry groans passed between mouths as they fumbled with drawstrings, pulling and kicking the remaining fabric to the floor. “Fuck me. Please, Robby. God, please, fuck me.”

“Gladly. There’s lube in the-”

“Got it.”

Robby sat up on his knees, watching as Dennis’s nude form rolled over and scrambled toward the nightstand. He tugged the drawer open and retrieved a bottle before moving back into place and shoving the half-empty plastic container into Robby’s waiting hand. Somehow he’d not become fully aware of their nudity until then, like Eve grasping some forbidden fruit and suddenly gaining awareness of what it means to be so exposed. But there was no sense of shame or sin, only slack-jawed admiration as his eyes trailed over Robby’s body and took him in, and he swallowed hard, preparing to speak until Robby broke the silence with a quiet chuckle that tore Dennis’s eyes from where they’d fallen below his waist back up to the older man’s face. “Not sure what’s more… intriguing. The fact that you know where I keep my lube, or the fact that this isn’t mine.”

“Yours, uh… tingles.” Now Dennis did feel exposed, having ratted his own self out, and he felt the burning blush on his face shoot down his chest and stomach until the embers of it caught flame again in his groin, precum drooling from his tip and rolling down his length. “I mean, I- This is better for, you know, um… intercourse.”

“Intercourse.” Robby laughed softly again as he snapped the bottle open. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Been a minute since I used it for intercourse.” He squeezed the bottle with his left hand to slick up three fingers on his right before setting the tube aside and bringing his palm back up to Dennis’s thigh to gently nudge his legs apart. “That’s right, nice and wide for me.” Robby’s body filled the space between Dennis’s legs as he leaned back in. The tip of his nose dragged against Dennis’s, and he smiled, ghosting his lips over the younger man’s as he prodded gently at his entrance with a slicked up fingertip. “You’ve been touching yourself in my bed, have you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Thinking about me?”

Dennis whimpered and rolled his hips upward, shifting his body to be as open and inviting to Robby’s hands as possible. “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop for three months. It was just wet dreams at first. Then you started calling, and hearing your voice- fuck.” He cried out softly, a long whine that turned upward as it faded out like a question, a plea for more, as Robby’s finger breached him and slid slowly deeper until finally it was fully inside of him.

“You ever jerk off while we talked on the phone?”

“No, but I’d get hard. I’d- Shit, Robby!- Oh God, I…” Dennis was gasping and blubbering, laughing lightly between strangled moans as Robby worked his finger in and out of him in long, slow strokes. “The morning calls. When you were still half asleep, and your voice would still be kind of low and tired.” Another needy, sharp sound leapt from his gut and out his throat as Robby slipped a second finger inside him alongside the first, never slowing the increasingly more determined, steady pace of his hand. “Wanted you for so long.”

“How long?” He scissored his fingers gently, the two of them buried fully inside the writhing, whimpering man beneath him, and hummed in approval as Dennis nodded and drooled, lost in the feeling of the older man’s expert, giving touch.

“Since med school. M-my ED rotation. First day I met you, the first -Jesus- the first time I saw you.” The autumn sun was still making its way downward despite the creeping hours of evening, splashing shades of pink and orange across the room through the barely-parted curtains, open just enough to let the petal-colored hues of evening in while still keeping the two men to themselves and one another. Dennis’s back came off of the bed slightly, pressing his stomach upward into the light and scattering colors across pale skin like stained glass, bathing him in hues that Robby couldn’t help himself but to lean down and taste, the new beads of sweat forming on his body shimmering like sugar candy. His fingers moved just so, a twist and a crook of the pads of them, and Dennis yelped, a nervous, clipped yelp flying past his lips. “Careful.”

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“Yeah, no. Yeah, I’m good, I just…” Dennis’s hand came to rest on the back of Robby’s head, and he gently fisted his hair and tugged him upward, desperately pressing their lips together in a hungry kiss. “I’m not going to last if you- It’s been a while. Since, you know, anyone but me touched me. I want it to last. I want…” His voice petered off as Robby began working his fingers again, sliding them nearly entirely out and nudging a third in on the next press. Dennis gasped and threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut and voice reverent and prayerful as he repeated it again and again. “I want- Robby! Oh God, I want…”

“Want what? Tell me what you want.”

“I want to cum with you inside me. I want you to feel it. Feel how good you make me feel.” Three fingers fully sheathed themselves inside of him, and Dennis tugged at Robby’s hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat, and he leaned in to taste the stubbled skin of his neck. “God, your fingers are huge.”

“They’re proportionate.” They kissed again, and Robby pressed his hips forward. His cock was thick and heavy and wet with precum as he slid it alongside Dennis’s, dragging it across the younger man’s pelvis and stopping only when their hips were fully flush, the pink tip of it nudging Dennis’s navel.

“Holy shit.” Dennis finally looked down between them at where Robby’s body met his own. “How am I supposed to…? You’re so big.” His hand dropped between them, and Dennis wrapped it lazily around Robby’s length, stroking him slowly from base to tip and imaging how it would feel inside of him, stretching and pressing in ways he’d never felt, never knew he could feel.

“I’ll be gentle. Have you- This isn’t your-”

“I’m not a virgin. And I’ve bottomed. Usually do.”

“By choice?”

“Are we dirty talking or having a conversation right now?”

Robby laughed and buried his face in the crook of Dennis’s neck, quickly beginning to riddle the warm flesh with kisses and feeling the younger man’s pulse under both his tongue and his fingertips. “Whichever you prefer.” His fingers crooked again, nudging at Dennis’s prostate and causing him to buck and whimper in Robby’s hold. “Feel good?”

“Feels too good. Too close…”

With that, Robby sat up on his knees, begrudgingly removing his mouth and hands and fingers from all of the parts of Dennis that only minutes ago the thought of touching and tasting had been reserved for his own mind and hands and private moments. Dennis sighed and whimpered at the loss of the touch, and he stretched in response, arching his back slightly before adjusting himself more comfortably on his back. His arms went above his head, draped lazily on the mattress, and his knees fell apart invitingly, cock thick where it bobbed and leaked onto his stomach. Robby scrubbed his hand over his face, doubly so over his beard, and he breathed out a sort of resigned laugh, disbelief, it seemed, at what was laid out before him. “Christ, Dennis, you’re… Are you sure you-”

“I’ve never been so sure. Robby, I…” The silence was punctuated only with heavy breathing and whatever bit of outside noise could make itself heard through the windows - car horns and mourning doves and dogs barking, the sounds of the world going on its blissfully mundane way even while worlds were being shaken apart and rebuilt just beyond tempered glass. “Please.”

Robby took a deep breath, smiled and nodded, and finally leaned back in, crawling over Dennis’s body and blanketing it with his own before meeting him in another heated kiss. He reached for the bottle of lube on the comforter only to have it shoved into his palm by Dennis between kisses and nervous giggles. “How do you want to…?”

“Like this. I-if that’s okay. I want to be able to see you. Want you to see me, too.”

Their eyes stayed locked as Robby snapped the bottle open and squeezed some of the contents into his palm, eyelids only slightly fluttering when his hand wrapped around himself, slicking up his cock before moving his hand back to Dennis to wipe the excess across his hole. “Talk to me, okay? Tell me what you need, how it feels, if I’m hurting you…”

“I’ll tell you.”

Robby leaned in, capturing Dennis’s mouth with his own again and nudging himself against Dennis’s entrance. “You talkative during sex?”

“I can be.”

A soft, affirmative grunt left Robby’s lips and he nodded. “I’m into that, so don’t hold back. I, um… It feels good. You know? Making someone…”

“Make noise?” If not for the persistent nudge of Robby’s cock against him, Dennis thought he might actually get choked up at the sight of him, features soft and sweet, blush glowing in the apples of his cheeks all the way to the crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and Dennis leaned upward, kissing them before finally bringing his lips back to Robby’s. “You’re so handsome when you blush. I mean, you are all the time, but… I like that I can make you blush.”

“Let’s see what else you can make me do, huh?” At that, Dennis’s knees were yanked up into the crooks of Robby’s elbows and his ankles propped up on the older man’s shoulders, and slowly, almost agonizingly so, Robby began to slide inside of him, and Dennis’s whimpers turned to moans and then shouts the deeper he got.

“Robby! Oh shit, it’s huge. God, I think I feel it in my fucking ribs.”

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“Never been better.” Dennis’s hips pushed back against Robby’s as best they could, his body begging for more even as his voice continued to catch in his throat, turning his words to the most beautiful song Robby had ever heard, notes carried on whimpers and groans and pleas. Robby’s palms were large and warm, and despite Dennis’s body being the strongest and heaviest it had been -perhaps ever-, his thighs seemed dwarfed in those skilled hands, wrapped tightly around his legs and tugging Dennis’s body against Robby’s own rhythmically. “Holy shit, I can- Look.” Dennis’s own hand dropped to his abdomen, and his fingertips dragged along his happy trail where a subtle bulge was visible with every thrust of Robby’s hips forward. “Never had that happen before.”

The sight, along with Dennis’s commentary, only seemed to spur Robby on, and Dennis dug his heels into the older man’s shoulders as his speed increased, every push and pull amplified as sweat began to bead at his brow. “You’re perfect. God, you’re fucking perfect, Dennis, look at you. Look at how beautiful you are, how good you’re taking it.”

“Fuck, Robby…”

“Taking it so good for me, baby.”

“Robby…”

“Such a good boy.” Robby was a smart man. From a young age, he’d been praised for his attention to detail and nuance, the way he seemed to naturally read between the lines and use context clues to suss out meaning in a way that was admirable at any age, but that, as a child, made him seem wise beyond his years. And while in most scenarios he would be modest about it and brush off anyone who might suggest he had a way with people’s minds, Robby took great pride in how it benefitted him in making Dennis tick. Even prior to having the man in his bed and on his dick, Robby had learned how to touch and talk to Dennis in a way that made him visibly mooney-eyed, and as time had gone on, it became harder for Robby to hide his own fiendish desires to make him swoon. And at some point, some two thousand or so miles away, Robby had accepted that for whatever level of infatuation Doctor Whitaker had shown, his own was returned to him tenfold. Robby was head-over-heels in a way he’d almost forgotten he was capable of, and he’d reluctantly pulled his heart from its dusty shelf behind his ribs and wound it up and relished in the pattering of it in his chest any time he so much as shared a room with the younger man. “Christ, Den, I’m close…”

“Me too. God, Robby, please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Please touch me.”

Robby’s hand was slick with sweat, as much his own as Dennis’s, as he wrapped it around the younger man’s cock where it bobbed between them, stroking him quickly and matching his hips to its pace. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Dennis. God, you’re- I wish you could see yourself. See what I see right now.”

“I’d rather look at you.” He lifted his hands, cupping them to Robby’s face and gently sweeping his thumbs over Robby’s cheekbones as his body jerked under the older man’s increasingly quick, stuttering thrusts. “Could look at you forever. Just like this.”

“Den, I’m- Fuck, I’m gonna- I-” Robby started to shift, to pull his hips back, but Dennis dug his heels in harder to his shoulders, shaking his head and smiling and pulling Robby close to press their foreheads together tightly.

“In me. I’m yours. Make me yours. Please, Robby.”

Robby’s hands suddenly loosened, and they fell to the mattress to support his weight as he buried himself fully and came, practically growling into Dennis’s mouth with a hungry kiss before taking the younger man in hand again. “C’mon, baby. You can do it. Cum for me, Dennis. Show me how good it feels.”

“Robby, I’m- Robby…!” Dennis’s body tensed and spasmed, back arching upward as his fists balled into Robby’s hair and his cock pulsed in the older man’s grip. A long series of moans and shouts and whimpers accompanied the writhing of his body, and Robby’s lips found a home on his throat as Dennis rode out his orgasm.

Robby, too, felt a sort of reinvigoration in his own body, his cock eager despite its exhaustion as Dennis’s body tightened around it, and he whimpered and spoke soft words against Dennis’s skin that he hoped as much as feared the younger man would hear as the endorphins flooding his body commandeered his voice. “I love you, Dennis. I love you, I love you so much.”

It was quiet as Dennis finally lowered his aching legs to the mattress and pulled Robby in close, holding him against his chest. It was quiet as the mourning doves called and the traffic hustled and the dogs barked. It stayed quiet as Dennis ran his fingers through Robby’s hair and as Robby sporadically kissed Dennis’s stubbled jaw and as the sweat and spit and cum dried between them and their lungs and hearts settled back into normal, healthy patterns.

It was quiet until Dennis kissed Robby’s forehead and cupped his cheek to lift his face and look into his eyes. “I love you, too.”

Robby felt his body tense, and he felt Dennis’s limbs wrap around him in response, as if to anchor him in place before his panicked muscles could snap into action and run away. He’d gotten so good, it seemed, at running away, so much so that he’d fooled himself long ago into thinking he was pulling one over on everyone, despite so many exes’ and short-lived therapists’ insistence to the contrary. “You don’t have to say it just because I did.”

“I mean it.” Soft fingers traced his jawline, and Dennis’s thumb swept over Robby’s bottom lip, tapping it gently and playfully, as evidenced by the tired, sweet smile looking back at him. “Don’t you?”

It was familiar territory, and yet somehow brand new. Like being in a room he’d seen a million times, but a mirror image of itself. Everything was there where it belonged and yet nothing was in its right place. Dennis’s question was one he’d heard before, and yet it wasn’t. It wasn’t quite I thought you loved me any more than it was or wasn’t You need to learn to love yourself. Robby could read people. He could read entire rooms. He could say all the right things, deflect all the painful questions, and smile and charm his way into getting the answers he needed from the people who needed to say them. But now, this time, he didn’t have to. There were no mind games or carefully chosen words, no wink-wink-nudge-nudge sorts of noncommittal responses needed. Dennis knew him, knew him enough to love him. All Robby had to do was let him. “Of course I do.”

“So what now?”

“A couple more minutes of this. Then we shower again.”

“And after that?”

Robby’s lips found Dennis’s again, and it was softer. Soft enough that it felt like a first kiss the way it made him shiver and smile and the way it sent a flurry of butterflies to his stomach and weakened his knees even as he lay prone and in the arms of the man he adored and had already kissed so much and yet not nearly enough. “After that I suppose you go get your bag from the living room and bring it and you back in here so you can sleep next to me. Where you belong.”

“And in a week?”

“That’s a week from now. Let’s start with tonight.”

“Alright. Hey, Robby?”

“Yeah, Den?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

“And I can’t wait to eat bagels with you every morning.”