what can I say, I'm gay

There’s a cat, a kitten by the sounds of it, and it’s stuck in a downspout pipe and Whitaker hops a fence, successfully snakes his hand up and manages to gently pull the little ragamuffin thing out unharmed, just a little skittish and takes off his flannel and wraps her up and just narrowly manages to pass the kitten over to his roommate through a gap where the chain link had been cut and shoddily repaired.

Maybe his judgement isn’t so good after a couple of G&T’s and a few shots a beer, but he thinks he might just be small enough to sneak through the same gap in the fence, and technically he does, but then he feels something warm gushing down his face.

“Oh shit.”

“Really Fuckleberry?”

He doesn’t know if his face is properly conveying the emotion of “you think I want this to be happening??”

She sighs, “C’mon, you know where we gotta fuckin’ go.”

“No Trin, can’t you like, fix it at home? Please?”

The big sad pathetic puppy dog eyes are somewhat less effective with blood running down his face.

Fuck.

The only thing he has on hand is the black t-shirt on his body.

“You just saw me play darts and you want me to suture?”

She makes a good point. And then she decides to rub it in.

“Maybe Dr. Deadlift will be there and he’ll kiss it all better, and he can tell Dr. Daddy what a brave boy you were.”

He flips her off with his unoccupied hand.

They begrudgingly start walking the handful of blocks to work. They’d both had the rare Friday off and had decided to start early that it was only a couple hours after handoff. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many day shifters still lingering around.

They walk in through the ambulance bay, and run into Shen first.

How he manages to have a mostly full iced coffee will always be a mystery.

“You can’t bring that in here?”

“I promise he’s house trained.”

Dennis catches his roommate looking at him. He rolls his eyes under his makeshift bandage.

“Rude.”

Ellis comes over to them next. She points at the cat, “You can’t have that in here. Where did you even find that thing? It looks like one of those dish soap commercial ducks.”

The kitten is happily dozing off while Trin scratches her head softly.

“Our very own Huckleberry here rescued her from a pipe, and then y’know, gave himself a head lac.”

Parker looks over her shoulder, looking for someone, “Hey Robby, your people are in here causing trouble.”

From out of nowhere Dr. Robby appears along with Dr. Abbot, they’re walking with Mateo and all three stop at the edge of the hub to see the pair of day shift doctors.

With one free hand, blood still tacky down as far as his collarbones, and he’s realizing, no shirt on, Dennis waves to his attendings pathetically.

“Hey.. so it’s really not as bad as it probably looks.”

Robby is the first to move, but Abbot is the first to speak.

“You can’t h-“

“Goddamn, yes I know, but I kinda have a farm boy to wrangle.”

Robby is moving him bodily into Central 6. The last thing he hears from the group by the hub is Shen saying they probably have a cat carrier around here somewhere.

Robby’s hands are so warm.

“I think you’re just extra cold, Whitaker.”

“Oh shit, I said that out loud?”

“You sure did, kiddo.”

It’s not fair, how much that makes his face heat up. How the alcohol in his system has loosened him up enough that he’s squirming on the bed. That his hot attending is so gentle as he peels the fabric away from his forehead.

“How did this happen?”

“Cat distribution system. Got caught on a broken chain link fence.”

“Ah. Well, it’s not terribly wide or deep, but what are our next steps?”

“You know I’m really drunk, right?”

Robby fixes him with an unimpressed look.

Dennis rolls his eyes, sighs melodramatically.

“Irrigation, probably lidocaine, however many staples you think are necessary, Dr. Daddy, then antibiotic ointment, and I can get the staples out in a week or two.”

Robby’s eyes go wide and he looks so smug, why does he look so handsome when he’s smug.

“Dr. Daddy?”

Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god fucking damn. He’s gonna kill Trin for ever putting that stupid nickname in his head, which will be fine because he needs to change his name and flee the country anyway. Is he hyperventilating, it feels like he’s hyperventilating.

“Kid? Dennis? You’re freaking me out. Talk to me.”

His voice comes out a lot less calm than he would like it to.

“I am so sorry, sir, I just, I didn’t, I don’t call you that. I didn’t start it, I just a-” he cuts himself off as Robby puts one of his unfairly huge hands on his knee.

“Calm down, take a breath. In.. out, good,” Dennis breathes with him, eyes drifting to where they’re connected, “in… out, that’s it, so good.”

God must have a sick sense of humor, because Dr. Abbot slips into the room.

“How’s it going in here?”

Dennis and Robby answer at the same time.

“Bad.”

“Incredible.”

The thing about Abbot is that he is extremely observant, more so than most people, even other doctors. His eyes roam over the scene, Dennis flushed and flustered, Robby’s hand on his knee, looking way happier than any man should after being on hour fourteen of a twelve hour shift.

“Are you torturing the intern, Mikey?”

“Not on purpose. He just called me Dr. Daddy.”

Abbot lets out a throaty chuckle.

“God, who started that, was it me or Dana?”

“I’m not sure.”

Abbot comes to the edge of the bed and does his own examination of the cut near his hairline, and all he can see on either side is very well maintained muscle, and his brain completely bluescreens.

“How’s your head, troublemaker?”

“Never had any complaints.”

Robby and Abbot look at each other, mildly amused, and then back at Dennis before he realizes what he’s said.

“Jesus Christ somebody fucking gag me.”

Well that’s arguably worse.

“Do I have a nickname?”

That’s Abbot, Abbot who still has his hands on him, like Robby still has his hand on him. Well it’s not like this is at all salvageable. He should write a letter of resignation while he’s here.

“Dr. Deadlift.”

If Robby is smug, Abbot is downright cocky.

“I keep telling Mikey he should come to the gym with me, but he always says he’s gonna sleep in and then I come back home and he’s always making breakfast and shit.”

“Heaven forbid I make my husband breakfast, what a monster that makes me.” Robby deadpans.

There had been bits of gossip, rumors about what exactly was going on between Abbot and Robby, but a lot of people had money on situationship, not husbands.

“Whitaker would eat my breakfast, wouldn’t you, kid?”

“Me? I would, I mean, I like.. y’know, food. It’s, like, good for.. eating.”

He might be having a stroke, what the fuck was that?

There’s something mischievous in Abbot’s eyes as he holds out his hand and Robby passes him a cloth, and he starts gently wiping the blood off his face, all the way down the side of his throat. He’s watching Robby track the movement, wide and intense brown eyes that usually look so tired, and it makes him squirm.

Abbot’s voice is so soft near his ear.

“Does Dr. Daddy have you all flustered, angel eyes?”

Dennis doesn’t even think about it, he nods.

“Jack.”

It’s a warning as much as it is an entreaty.

“Mm, not tonight, not until you’re all healed up, but sometime, you’ll have to take Mikey up on his breakfast offer, because I happen to know that you have Dr. Daddy all riled up too.”

“I do?”

Maybe he bled out on the sidewalk and heaven is real. Maybe he’s so drunk and this is a dream.

“Wait..”

Both men freeze, but Dennis winces as he turns to Abbot, shock wearing off and alcohol mixed with lack of proper hydration making his head swim a little bit.

“What about you?”

Dennis had covered a decent handful of nights, knew Abbot to be a little less handsy than Robby, but liberal with his praise, his time when circumstances allowed.

“You don’t think I like you, Whitaker?

Dennis’s eyes find Robby’s, and flick back to Abbot.

“I didn’t know that either of you..”

He doesn’t expect a kiss, just barely there, on the top of his head. Or one on the back of his hand.

“What’s not to like?”

His phone buzzing breaks the moment. He checks it, making a little noise of discomfort as he has to squint at his screen.

It’s a text from Trinity, saying that she made it home with the cat on the bus and that whenever he gets to leave she’ll Venmo him money for an uber if he needs.

He types back that he’s probably just gonna need a couple staples and he’ll text when he’s discharged.

She sends a picture of the cat in the sink, mildly disgruntled, and then a dumb meme that he rolls his eyes at but thumbs up reacts.

Robby is not at all discreetly reading his messages. Upside down even, it’s impressive actually.

“Y’know, I can take you home, I’m not technically on the clock anymore.. only if you want though.”

Abbot had started cleaning out the cut and murmuring to Dennis, cooing, as he winced, “ I know, baby I know, there all done, small prick and then some burning.. you’re doing so good for me.”

He didn’t realize that he was squeezing Robby’s hand, he could feel the heat rising in his face.

“You don’t have to do that, Dr. Robby.”

“I know, but I’d like to make sure you get home safe, Dennis.”

That made him feel all gooey inside, like hot fudge, or nacho cheese.

Damn, he and Trini were gonna hit Taco Bell up in their way home.

He remembers one day when the ED was overflowing with people and Robby just couldn’t catch a break, somebody needed the man’s signature on something. His friend shoved him in their bosses direction and told him to ‘use those baby blues for good.’

“Do you think..” he flutters his lashes, “I haven’t eaten and Santos and I were supposed to get food, could we stop on the way? Please?”

As if planned, his stomach makes a grumbling noise.

“Of course we can.”

“Trinity was going to pay.”

“I’ll cover it.”

His phone buzzes again, Robby takes it out of his hands as Abbot tells him that he needs 4 staples.

Robby gets out his own phone and Dennis can’t see what he’s doing, but there is a lot of tapping happening.

By the time all the staples are in and he’s bandaged Parker is sticking her head in.

“Hey boss, part of a frat house collapsed, we got 5 en route, 2 minor crush injuries and 1 possible comminuted fracture, concussions probable all around. 8 minutes out.”

“Got it, I’ll meet you and Shen in the ambulance bay, see if Crus can get the second wave with me. Trauma rooms good to go?”

“Locked and loaded.”

He gives her a nod and the room falls back into silence as Abbot finishes dressing his wound.

Robby finally hands him back his phone. It’s dead.

Abbot types something on the computer and looks between the two men.

“Discharge papers?”

Robby holds up his phone.

“Mateo is already on it.”

“Good. Kid, I leave you in capable hands. Oh Mikey, there’s white chicken chili in the crockpot for you when you get home.”

“Thanks baby.”

He kisses his husband on the way out, winks at Dennis, and is gone.

Mateo comes in a second later, extra gauze and tape, antibiotic ointment, and some extra strength tylenol in a goodie bag and discharge papers.

Robby seems to type something final and looks satisfied.

“You ready to go? I just gotta grab my bag. Thankfully I drove my car today.”

“Can I text Trinity from your phone, I told her I’d message her when I got discharged.”

“Already taken care of, kid.”

If anybody finds them walking out of the ED together odd, nobody comments on it, though he swears he sees Shen look at them leaving the ambulance bay for the parking lot and he passes Ellis a $20.

Robby’s truck smells like a combination of hospital antiseptic and musk, in a way it’s oddly comforting. Maybe it’s that or maybe it’s the steady motion of driving, but he falls asleep.

Careful hands shake him awake from the open passenger door.

“Hey sleeping beauty, you’re home. Let’s get you inside, huh, baby?”

“But I’m so comfy.”

“I know baby, but you’re gonna be a lot happier in your pajamas, in your bed, after you eat something.”

Dennis doesn’t argue, he just slides out of the car, lets himself be led, wakes up enough to find the right buzzer for Trini and his apartment.

“That better be you Huckleberry, you scared Tom.”

“Who.. the fuck.. is Tom?”

“The cat, duh.”

He doesn’t mean to be whiny but he’s never been very gracious when getting pulled out of a nap.

“Lemme in.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t get your panties in a twist. Oh that’s right, you’re not wearing any, slut.”

The door clicks open and the elevator trip up is silent until the taller man tries to ask casually..

“Are you really not wearing any underwear?”

He looks up at Robby, rosy cheeks betraying his interest.

“I had, shockingly, other aspirations for my evening that did not involve being propositioned by my bosses.”

“Dennis if y-“

“Shhhh. I’d get like 10 staples if I had to. I like the way this all turned out.”

The elevator doors open and Dennis leads the way to his apartment door.

“I got you sign out for tomorrow, found coverage already, so that you can rest.”

“You did?”

“Of course. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to text or call. I put Jack’s number in your phone before it died.”

“Oh.”

“And when you’re better, you can come over for breakfast.”

Dennis nods, uses Robby’s arm to get on his tiptoes, kiss the other man on the cheek.

“Thank you. Dr. Robby.”

The apartment flies open and Trinity is standing there in boxers and a baby tee, a puffball of a kitten in her arms.

“You lived bitch.”

“You kept drinking, didn’t you?”

“Un poco.”

Robby holds up a bag Dennis hadn’t really noticed till now.

“Oh shit, you got lava cakes right?”

“I got whatever you texted me, Santos.”

He checks his phone.

“That other stuff should be here in 10 minutes. I gotta go, please, take care of him, yeah?”

“Grown ass man, mind you.”

“Santos.”

“Yessirree.”

Robby leaves and suddenly he’s on the couch housing a steak quesadilla (no creamy jalapeño sauce) and being sniffed by a very curious cat.

Their buzzer goes off at some point and his roommate lets them in. A couple minutes later she’s opening the door and there are a pile of bags, fit to burst, in front of the door.

“What’s all that?”

“This is stuff for our new roommate.”

“And what did you buy, half the store?”

“I didn’t buy anything,” she has an evil look in her eye, “I may have insinuated that you would be very sad if Tom Sawyer here didn’t have the essentials and that we were both so broke.. Dr. Sugar Daddy paid for all of this.”

“Jesus Christ.. really?”

It shouldn’t surprise him, but it also shouldn’t make him this flustered either.

She locks onto his expression.

“Wait did something happen? Oh my god, tell me tell me tell me.”

“Eat your lava cake and be grateful.”

He watches her unpack dozens of cans of food, treats, a collar, toys, a bed, litter, a tray.

So overboard.

He grabs his phone from where it’s been charging, takes a picture of the Tom jumping for the string toy Trin was dangling in front of him.

Sends it to Robby with the caption ‘somebody is very happy with you.’

He gets a smiley emoticon in return, and then a follow up, ‘Are you happy?’