intern young robby being the one to find dennis on the eighth floor…
it was insane. robby should’ve checked with his grandmother before he offered the spare bedroom, but that whitaker kid had one of the worst days he’d seen anyone have, like, ever. the idea of just letting him languish in a dingy, abandoned floor with no working AC was simply not acceptable.
and his bubbe ended up loving dennis! she’d give dennis the first scoop of kugel, which was, quite frankly, offensive.
but, the thing was, robby understood. dennis was so fucking likable.
he did more dishes than robby ever did. he watched terrible old lady television with bubbe and didn’t even make fun of it. he was quiet after nine and didn’t sneak in girls up to his room like robby did in med school.
having dennis across the hall was nice. he was funny in a subtle, plausibly deniable way. robby liked the guy. robby liked the guy a lot. a confusing amount.
robby had only snuck girls into his room. he’d never wanted a guy to knock on his bedroom door until now.
so when dennis did knock, robby’s heart pounded. robby had just showered a shift off and was lounging horizontally on his bed in his robe. “come-“ his voice crack and he cleared his throat. “come in!”
dennis was in his infuriatingly adorable pajamas. the pants were ridiculously long. the shirt was hanging on by a thread literally. his collar bones were exposed by the thin material. he was holding his old laptop, scrolling on it with a scrunched face.
dennis anxiously asked, “can you read this over for me? it’s basically a third of my grade and i think i sound like a fucking a idiot.” dennis put his laptop in front of robby on the bed, just sort of lingering by the foot of it.
robby finished the first page of fifteen before questioning, “are you gonna stand there the whole time?” he could barely comprehend the words he was reading knowing dennis was leering at him in his bedroom in just a terry cloth robe.
“oh, sorry.” dennis hesitantly sat down. he still intently observed robby, waiting for the inevitable edits.
they got closer, inch by inch, correction by correction, until robby had gotten to the bibliography.
robby, who was still laying down, actually had to crane his neck to look dennis in the eyes. his breath stuttered a little bit when he noticed how close they’d gotten, just an open laptop between them.
robby had to clear his throat again. “it’s good!” he hoped his hair hadn’t dried in that stupid way it could sometimes. “you’re a good writer.”
dennis looked down at his criss-crossed knees, nearly blushing. “thanks.”
robby slid the laptop down towards his legs, just to have less between them.
“no, it was really good. you’re…convincing.”
dennis laughed a little. “i’ve never been called that before.”
and robby was tired. he’d worked a double, he’d done CPR and hundreds of sutures and prescribed a billion different medications. he wasn’t liable for how he acted when a confusingly pretty boy like dennis came and sat on his bed with no regard for the effect he had on people.
robby pushed up on his elbow a little higher. “you have a way about you,” he whispered.
and robby could’ve sworn dennis looked down at his lips before he quietly asked, “you think so?”
robby’s eyes definitely wavered down when he replied, “i do.”
both nearly started leaning in when bubbe’s voice cut through the tension. she yelled from the kitchen, “boys, dinner!”
they both scrambled to get up. robby’s robe nearly came untied in his haste.
robby stuttered out, “just-just tell her i gotta get dressed.”
dennis relayed the message. poor boy was so confused when bubbe coyly replied, “oh, it’s about time.”
