The Pitt staff are out drinking, for someone's birthday maybe, and Dennis is drunk.
He's loudly complaining about his love life to Trin (who'd of course been bragging about her's) only, with how close the two of them have become, he's not exactly holding back on details.
"Uuuuuggh. S'not fair," He groans, head on the table they're sat at, the rest of the staff scattered around the floor of the club.
Trinity pats his shoulder commiseratingly, just a tad uncoordinated.
"You'll find some hot older guy to tell you what to do and kiss you about it don't worry Huckleberry. You're a catch!" She insists.
Dennis just groans again.
"But I've already got that! Just without the kissing. I'd let them clicker train me like a dog," his voice turns wistful.
Trinity smacks him upside the head. Gently...ish.
"Let them. Sure. Beg for it more like you kinky little shit. Come on, we should probably find a ride home. You're like, wasted."
A throat clears beside their table.
"I can drive you both," Jack fucking Abbot smiles down at them, eyes locked on Dennis as his head shoots up and cheeks go pink.
Trinity does not hold back her giggles, agreeing to the ride on Dennis's behalf.
She's able to walk by herself, even if her steps are wobbly, but Huckleberry is like a baby deer when he tries to stand. Trinity would be impressed by his manipulation if it wasn't clear he's genuinely just that drunk.
But strategic stumble or not, Dr Abbot wastes no time in leaning down and helping Dennis up. Keeping an arm around his waist, he pulls the boy into his side and Dennis can't resist flopping his head into the junction where his neck meets his shoulder. He can feel the vibration of Jack chuckling and would blush if he wasn't already red-cheeked.
They're led not to the exit, but over to Dr Robby and Dennis is willing to let himself die right there because of course his married attendings would be going home together.
Unlike Jack, Robby has been drinking, though not as much as Dennis. Still, his guard is down a little more than usual and he takes hold of Dennis's chin to move his head around a little, checking his eyes in the shitty club lights with a hint of concern.
"He's just drunk, Mikey," Jack reassures and Robby hums, tucking Dennis's head back to its resting place before running his fingers through his soft curls.
Dennis isn't going to survive.
He's going to spontaneously combust.
He doesn't realise Jack is trying to walk with him again until the man's head lowers to speak softly near Dennis's ear.
"Come on, sweetheart let's go."
And then. And then Jack makes a noise. Two clicks with his mouth.
