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Robby and Dennis are home a bit late from their shifts, but it’s a standard late for Robby, at least. Jack calls welcome back in response to their tired mumbles of we’re home, and listens as Robby’s loping gait takes him straight to the shower, and the drag of Dennis’ socked feet across the floorboards as he goes for the kitchen.
Neither of them had texted anything about a particularly bad shift, but he can tell Dennis is tired just from a glance. Well, anything can happen in the ER; they might’ve been given the run-around in the few hours it’s been since Jack had spoken with them last. “Hey, how was it?” He asks.
Dennis lifts a shoulder with a weak smile, “Not bad.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, “You look tired.”
“Exhausted,” Dennis agrees, turning to rummage through the cupboard.
His voice is quieter than usual, all around a little frayed at the edges. Jack won’t press, turns back to the show he’d been watching.
He won’t press, but he will keep an eye out on Dennis in the meantime. He’s slowed down even since they arrived home, clearly the last of the shift adrenaline having left him as he stares vacantly at the kettle while it boils. He’s making himself a sandwich of some variety, and Jack is satisfied enough until Dennis comes to sit in the lounge on an armchair beside him, and sees Dennis eating a single PB&J alongside a mug of hot chocolate.
“Dennis,” he says, tone flat. The boy has a knack for surprising him.
Dennis’ gaze slides from where it’d landed on the TV over to Jack, “Hm?” He hums, mouth gummed up with peanut butter.
“There’s dinner in the fridge, why don’t you eat that?”
There’s a loud swallow and slurp from his mug, “Left it for Robby.”
“I made enough for both of you.”
“Left it for Robby’s lunch tomorrow.”
Jack squints at him, “You can just say you don’t feel like pasta.”
There’s a flash of panic across Dennis’ face, followed by his brows drawing in, “No, you’re a great cook, and I really appreciate you making us, me, food so often. It’s delicious, I’m not trying to –”
Jack cuts Dennis off, “Stop talking,” he says, going so far to give Dennis the accompanying hand gesture when his mouth only opens to speak again. “You’re OK,” he starts, in the hopes it’ll drop Dennis’ shoulders from where they’ve hiked up around his ears. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad – I just want you to eat a full dinner,” he says, eyeing the half of the sandwich left in Dennis’ hand.
“Oh,” Dennis says, “Uhm, I’m happy with this.”
“Do you want me to make you something else?” Jack asks.
“No! No, sorry, you don’t have to do all of that,” Dennis says, shock and discomfort clear in his posture – how he’s shrinking into himself and the appeasing lilt that’s come into his voice.
Jack eyes him. Dennis collapses further in on himself.
Dennis, buoyed by professional competence and a job to get done, rarely gets into these nervous moods in the Pitt that Jack’s found him susceptible to in their private lives. They’ve talked plenty about the dynamics at play with Dennis joining their marriage, and how they can best make sure no one feels left out, but he knows Dennis still feels some misplaced and worrying sense of gratitude towards them. As if they’ve decided to do him a favour by finding him attractive, mind and body. As if they’ve graciously decided to allow him into their lives, like before all of this Robby wasn’t morose every time his shift ended because there was no more Whitaker time. And Jack is grown enough to admit he was downright insufferable once he’d caught the bug for Dennis – but the point being: they’re head over heels for him, and hope daily that he wakes up still feeling the same in return (and Robby has a particularly thick-headed concern that one day Dennis will come to his senses and realise he’s been wasting his time with a pair of old pervs who should know better), but Dennis is still coming to trust that their affections aren’t just a whim. Some days, it feels like Jack's the only one with any sense to just enjoy the good things in life.
“Can you eat a second PB&J?” He lands on at last.
Dennis’ eyes dart from Jack to the plate, and he nods.
“Some fruit? Oranges are in season,” Jack wheedles.
Finally a smile returns to Dennis’ face, “OK, just one.”
“Good,” Jack presses up to standing, gets his knee roller under him, and tilts Dennis’ head up to leave a kiss on his forehead before he leaves. “Thanks for indulging me, Den.”
“Thank you,” Dennis’ voice calls from the lounge.
“What’d’you wanna watch?” Jack asks when he returns and Dennis is curled up, gaze going straight through the show Jack’s left rolling.
“Thank you,” Dennis accepts the plate with one hand and the other is already there – taking a half of the sandwich before it’s even been put down on the table. “I don’t mind, we can watch this.”
Jack eyes him again; it’s all a little acquiescent for his boyfriend. But they keep watching.
And he’s not wrong to have his suspicions, knows how to trust his gut, because the show turns tense and suddenly Dennis is flinching at the sounds of impacts and raised voices.
Dennis had told him and Robby in few words that he was abused growing up. He’d not inclined to share much further, and while both he and Robby had encouraged him that they were there and wanting to support him however he needed, Dennis had seemed truthful when he’d said he didn’t want to dredge it all up with them, at least at the time. It’d been Robby’s good idea to offer to facilitate Dennis seeing a private psych to talk to, and it was one of the easiest arguments about money they’d had. Robby, in a fit of pique, had said just go to one session, and you can use the entire time to talk about how I paid for it, and how that makes you feel. Dennis had gotten so mad it tipped right into laughter, because he has a better temperament than Jack – who was ready to rip Robby a new asshole for that, and magically, somehow they’d diffused the argument. Dennis went once, and then just continued going. Jack was deeply proud of him, but tried not to bring too much attention to it. God, if only he’d had half of Dennis’ wisdom when he’d been going through rehab. He just tells Robby not to get a big(ger) head, and ignores the self-satisfaction practically wafting off the man.
So – it’s not unfathomable that Dennis might react this way to depictions of violence. It hasn’t happened before, to Jack’s knowledge, but trauma is tricky like that. He presses the pause button.
“Sorry, forgot this show can be kinda intense. If you’re not feeling like anything specific, why don’t we find some bball for Robby?”
Dennis, a little spooked still, nods.
He flicks over to aerial, finds something that’s probably basketball, too busy watching Dennis’ reaction.
He’s eaten all of the food Jack brought to him, and does seem a little more relaxed once the channel’s stayed switched.
Jack tries, with limited success, to figure out what’s bothering him by making idle chitchat with Dennis. He’s always a bit frazzled before a shower and properly relaxing, same as Robby, but Dennis gives no quarter. He makes conversation, pays attention.
In fact, when Robby moseys on in, pinked and damp from the shower, Dennis even stays to finish the chat before heading off for one himself. Jack watches him go, chewing his lip.
Robby notices, because they’ve known each other about as long as Dennis has been alive. But with that familiarity comes trust; Robby just raises his eyebrows and when Jack shakes his head and follows Dennis as quietly as he can.
He doesn’t – he doesn’t intrude. Just stands in the bedroom doorway, listening to Dennis undress in the bathroom. It sounds creepier than it is; there’s just the shift of fabric, a yawn. Then in short order comes a clatter of something falling to the floor, a quiet curse, and a resounding thunk. Jack’s already moving by the time Dennis vocalises again, not an exclaimed curse, but a quiet, whining, “Owww.” And then come the heaving breaths.
He raps his knuckles on the wall as he’s already opening the door, knows it pisses Robby off to no end but unable to stay behind the door when Dennis might be hurt. “Dennis? Heard a bang,” he says, eye line immediately dropping to where Dennis is curled up on the floor against the sink cabinet, clutching at the top of his head.
The shoulder-height cabinet door is still swung open, the clear culprit.
Dennis, with his farm-boy it’s just a scratch attitude, is crying. Jack sits down quickly, by Dennis’ side. “Hey, hey. D’you hit your head?” He rubs over Dennis’ shoulder. “Dennis? You there?” He asks, nervous for all Dennis isn’t saying back.
“’m fine,” Dennis bites out.
“Don’t think so, sweetheart,” Jack says.
Robby appears in the doorway, confusion switched immediately to alert concern once he sees the tableau.
“Cold, wet hand towel, please?” Jack asks him, as his hands slowly trail up Dennis’ arms. Didn’t want to shock him with a sudden pressure where he’d bumped his head. “Dennis, I need to see your head, let go now,” and the tangle of Dennis’ hair around his fingers loosens. Robby’s hand appears, holding a wrung but still damp towel, “Thanks, just a sec,” he says, using a light touch just to check if Dennis managed to break skin.
All unbroken, though he can see where Dennis must’ve hit it already, swelling and sore looking.
“Gonna put a cool towel on it now, to help with the throbbing,” he warns, and feels one of Dennis’ hands shoot out to grip at his shirt. “OK, all done. Bonking your head was the last thing you needed after a long day, hm?” He asks, petting at the baby curls at the base of Dennis’ neck.
He gives a groan in response, head pressing harder into Jack’s chest for just a moment before he withdraws. “Thanks,” he says, voice thick. “Sorry, just … hurt really suddenly.”
“Yeah, it’s the worst, like stubbing your toe,” Jack agrees.
“’m OK,” Dennis sniffles, like the terrible liar he is.
“I need to shower before heading out, why don’t I join you?” Jack asks, instead of dignifying it with a response.
Dennis lets him without a fight.
It’s an uneventful, domestic shower together even as a few more tears escape. Jack doesn’t let them go unsoothed, keeping close. Once they’re clean, Dennis just lays his head on Jack’s shoulder and they bask in the warmth until Jack starts to prune and calls it done.
Robby’s already in bed when they finish up. Given Dennis’ evening, Jack thinks it’ll probably be for the best if he goes to bed as well, and counts his lucky stars that Dennis isn’t feeling stubborn about proving his independence tonight, and goes straight from getting dressed, to brushing his teeth, to slipping under the covers with Robby. He spoons the larger man, and Robby makes some pleased noise as Jack whispers, “Love you, see you later,” as he departs.
They keep their relationship with Dennis locked down at work – there’s no lingering eye contact or casual touch they can get away with with him like they can with each other during handovers. He and Robby have weathered all kinds of crazy schedules, but they’ve been working together for long enough that no one looks twice at them huddled close in the Pitt, whether they know they’re married or not. And they always have the roof, for the difficult days.
He knows that Dennis and Robby don’t even get much time together on shift, not like he daydreams about, but it’s the little things – like getting to see them every few hours, or the drive to and from the hospital – that he thinks about at times like this. And even as he cringes to think it, Dennis is new. Still new to Jack, and to Robby. They’ve been together for more than a few months now, and it’s promising and it’s going well, but it’s not like his relationship with Robby. Sturdy as bedrock through years of knowing each other, working with each other, and more recently being married to each other. As is Robby’s way, they’d talked around it rather than about it directly; how they’ve both felt the attention is skewed towards Dennis rather than the other recently. Neither of them really had an issue with it, and they’d come to the quick conclusion not to worry about it unless Dennis was feeling pressured.
So, Jack is missing his boyfriend. Feels fucking starved for closeness when they’ve got time off together, if he’s honest.
He’s still running high off the end of a shift, feeling like he’s bounding out of the car and the next thing he knows he’s closed in on Dennis, who’s lent over the kitchen counter idly on his phone with a mug of coffee steaming nearby. His hands land either side of Dennis, boxing him in as he sighs, “Hey Den, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” into Dennis’ neck. He’s wearing one of Robby’s sweatshirts, a pair of Jack’s shorts. It ignites a heat in his belly where there’d just been restless energy a few moments ago.
“Woah,” Dennis says at the surprise of his sudden arrival, his immediate closeness. “Hey yourself.”
Jack kisses at the delicate skin of his neck, being able to tell on some strange, animal level that Dennis is still warm from bed but is cooling down to a waking temperature now. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too.” He can hear the smile in Dennis’ voice, but as one of Jack’s hands leaves the counter top to pull Dennis against him, start edging under the hem of Dennis’ shirt, he goes rigid. “Hey! Um,” he starts, “Not, not today. Sorry.”
Jack reels back, taking in Dennis’ awkward expression – clearly not feeling it but also awkward in having to explain that to him. “Shit, sorry,” Jack breathes, stepping back, “Don’t apologise, thanks for telling me.” Dennis nods, “Can I – can I kiss you? Just that, I promise.”
Dennis likes his honesty, his eagerness in his pursuit of pleasure and fun, has admitted before that it does things to his ego when it's directed his way. Really, it’s usually him and Dennis who’re overworking Robby until he has to beg off. He can’t remember a time when either he or Dennis haven’t been able to work each other up, or want to entertain the other just to get an orgasm out.
But Dennis is still uncertain when he says, “Just a little, maybe?”
“Sorry, I came in pretty hot, huh?” Jack asks, taking Dennis’ cheek in a palm and pressing a warm but short peck to his lips. Closed mouth and everything.
He steps back and out of Dennis’ range, watching Dennis watching him.
“I’m gonna go shower, and I’ll be back, OK?”
“OK?” Dennis agrees.
He rubs out an orgasm and a half in the shower. It’s good enough – he’ll still need to go to the gym before he’s able to sleep, but he can think straight again.
He’s towelling the water from his hair when he re-enters the kitchen, Dennis where he left him.
Dennis looks at him askance, half joking half genuine when he asks, “Get it out of your system?”
Jack grins, caught, “For now – I’ll go to the gym in a bit too, I think.” He manoeuvres around the kitchen to pull some ingredients together for an omelette, “Wanna come?”
Dennis blinks, “Yeah, that’d be nice. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do today. Study, obviously, but…”
“No one can just sit studying all day,” Jack intones, “Not even Javadi.”
“I don’t want to bet on what she couldn’t put her mind to,” Dennis says.
Jack snorts a laugh, making quick work of cutting everything into small pieces, whisking it into a homogeneous batter, pouring it into the heating pan, and leaving it with a cover sat just off centre. They’re still at a distance, so before it can go too long, he asks, “About before when I came in – I didn’t freak you out, did I?”
“Not really. I wasn’t like, scared, if that’s what you mean. Thanks for, um, backing off.”
“’ course. That’s the bare minimum, in case you need reminding,” he adds, raising his eyebrows pointedly.
“I know,” Dennis rolls his eyes in response.
“Anything the matter?” He asks, then realises how that sounds. “You, uh – usually, you and I are pretty easy. Well, that didn’t sound any better. The point I’m trying to make,” he stresses, as Dennis laughs at him, “is that there’s nothing wrong with not feeling like it, but you’ve not really reacted like that, before. Something going on? That you want me to know about?”
“No,” Dennis says, “Just not – feeling like it.”
“I know I’m a horndog, but I have missed you. Can I just, hug you?”
Dennis’ smile, pleased and fond, has Jack crutching over to him before he even says, “Yeah, come here.”
He gathers Dennis up into his arms, and Dennis’s arms curl around him, “Ah, that’s better,” he sighs.
They holds each other, pressed tight up chest to chest, until Jack’s omelette protests its doneness by puffing up and sizzling against the lid.
“I’m not getting blamed for another rubbery omelette,” Dennis complains, poking Jack in the side, “Go rescue your breakfast dinner.”
Jack finds Robby on the roof at the next handover. Just getting some air, he says. Jack doesn’t believe that shit for a second, but knows when to pick his fights with Robby. Not when he’s needed on the floor for his shift soon, and when Robby’s ready to go home to Dennis. He doesn’t deserve Robby’s shitful moods.
“By the way – Dennis was a little off earlier when I came onto him. Just, maybe take it slow if you wanna have sex or something, OK?”
Robby raises an eyebrow at him, “You did that thing where you came off shift ready to get pounded into the mattress, didn’t you?”
Jack has the humility to say, “Yes,” to Robby’s crowing laugh, “But! He’s never said no before. Not!” he interjects at Robby’s horrified look, “Not like that. My god, didn’t mean it like that. You know I’m like totally a sex god and whatever,” Robby rolls his eyes, “and he’s got the same libido as me. We haven’t been … unmatched like that before. That’s all.”
“OK,” Robby sighs, rubs at his beard, “Do we need to round up everyone who isn’t jumping at the opportunity to fuck you at every inconvenient moment and give them some kind of assessment? Cause there’s clearly something wrong with them? Is that what this is?”
Jack’s gracious as well as humble, cause he lets Robby get through his entire tirade without pantomiming like he’s going to push him over the edge.
“Glad we’re in agreement,” Jack nods, overly serious. “Speaking of, gonna come down with me so we can talk about the people actually needing assessments and medical care?”
Robby reels Jack in with a hand on his neck for a kiss, then breaks away before they get lost in each other. “Fuck, yeah, I wanna get outta here,” Robby says, “Lead the way.”
For all that he’d laughed Jack off earlier, Robby’s noticed Dennis is a bit different lately, too. There’s been about a week of it, of gradually increasing signs.
He’d zipped through his nightly routine, not really even tasting his dinner, as he’d considered it. He’s stretched out along the length of the couch now, staring up at the ceiling as the lights from the TV reflect up onto it in an abstract mirage.
It’s so stark, he thinks, because he sees the switch from Dennis at home to at work. There’s some moment in the period of time when he walks in, drops his belongings off in the locker, signs in and walks over to the board when he seems to click over to a different version of himself. Certainly, one that’s still him – who’s like a brother to all of his colleagues in the Pitt, who’s attentive and switched on. That version of Dennis is untouched apart from how he feels a little distant to the man Robby’s come to know personally.
Outside the Pitt, Dennis is now a little more subdued. Not unhappy, Robby thinks, though he’s keeping it in mind. He’s just not as talkative, mostly. He’s still excited by every dog they see out on their walks, but where he used to go up to the owners and strike up conversation, he'd only admired from afar last time they were out. Robby’d even felt Dennis grip his jacket sleeve when he’d gone to approach them, and so they'd hung back.
And the physical touch has changed, too. It feels like for all of the things Dennis hasn’t been saying, he’s getting them out through touch. He’s been like an octopus while sleeping, not wanting to separate for a moment. Jack wasn’t kidding; both he and Dennis have historically been up for sex bascially whenever it was on the table, but not once this week has Dennis initiated anything further. For Robby, who’s libido is lower, he hadn’t really noticed it until Jack’d mentioned it – so if Dennis isn’t getting off with Jack or him, it’s notable.
He’s distracted from his thoughts as he hears Dennis join him in the lounge. “Hey,” he smiles up at Dennis when he comes to stand over him.
Dennis clambers onto the couch between his legs and finds himself a comfortable spot laying on Robby’s chest. He even reaches up, takes one of the arms Robby had tucked behind his head and tugs until Robby follows his lead and wraps it around him.
“So, done with studying for the night?” He asks, not wanting to point out Dennis’ very cuddly behaviour in case he gets shy, or g-d forbid, pulls away.
Dennis hums into his chest.
“Brain all mush?”
Another hum, Dennis’ head rubbing against his tee in a nod.
“Want me to stop asking you questions?” He tries.
He receives a quiet laugh in response, and another lazy hum. Dennis kisses his hand, which he’s pulled up to his face and is practically cuddling in addition to the rest of Robby.
“Alright, an hour here at max, then we’re both due in bed,” he says.
This kind of behaviour wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary before, either. It’s just that all of these disparate, little things are happening around the same time.
He feels bad for wanting to push – recognises that same curiosity in himself and Jack, so he’s planning to proposition Dennis before they go to bed proper, but when it comes time, he’s practically pulling Dennis to his feet and dragging him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Can’t fathom possibly making Dennis uncomfortable when he’s listing into Robby’s side, trusting him to support his weight as his eyes lid while Robby brushes his own teeth.
He’ll … deal with all this another day, is what he’ll do.
He curls up around Dennis, both of them finally in bed at an hour far too late, to Dennis’ pleased hum and wriggle in his arms.
It’s another day, in fact it’s multiple days later, and the situation hasn’t become any clearer. Jack’s banned Dennis from the kitchen for how many times he’s nicked or burnt himself recently, and he’s been rebuffed when he did finally make a pass at Dennis, and overall it’s just getting a bit overwrought. Dennis is getting quieter outside of shifts, edging into moody as they keep trying to talk with him about it while he avoids eye contact.
Jack’s pulled them both out to the roof during handover and said in no uncertain terms that they are going to talk. About what, even he can’t put into words, but Dennis had gone pallid and that was enough blood in the water to justify the call.
They’ve got a lovely weekend of shared breaks coming up, and it feels a bit cruel to put this talk as some kind of prerequisite, but Robby doesn’t know how they’d get through it otherwise, toeing around each other as they currently are. He and Dennis have the current shift, then Jack’s back in to close them out, and then they’re off for three whole days – all of them. He wants to enjoy it.
So he agrees, says it’s a good call, and joins Dennis in kissing Jack goodbye. Dennis heads back down first, so they’re less suspicious.
“He’s going to freak if it’s us versus him like this,” Robby muses.
“Yeah,” Jack agrees, rubbing at his stubble. “You two are off first, you wanna try talking with him alone?”
“You don’t mind?”
“’ course I mind,” Jack huffs, “But someone’s gotta go first, and you’re better than me about the delicate stuff.”
“You think it’s delicate?”
Jack raises his eyebrows.
“Yeaaah,” Robby agrees. He hangs his head, “Fuck.”
Jack pats his back, “We all love each other, what could go wrong?”
“Famous fucking last words,” Robby groans, “You just jinxed it.”
“What?” Jack laughs.
“I don’t know – maybe he’s finally figured out he’s got better things to –”
Jack cuts him off, “Shut up, oh my god.”
Robby glowers at him.
“I’ve heard this spiral too many times. Stop freaking out about your fucking ego and start freaking out about Dennis’ actual, weird behaviour. Cause this isn’t about you, or me. It’s about him.”
Robby meets Jack’s gaze slowly, “You’re right, I am better than you at the delicate stuff.”
Jack punches him in the arm. “Capiche?”
“Sir, yessir,” Robby comes to mock attention.
Jack’s grin is animal, “That’s what I like to hear. Now, lets go get you saving some lives.”
They leave further discussion to the end of the shift, when they’re safety contained in the car and Robby’s driving them home. “About what Jack said earlier –” Robby starts, trying to eye Dennis in his peripheral, but he doesn’t give anything away, “What do you think about you and I having a talk tonight? I don’t think it’s gonna do any good to drag it out.”
“Without Jack?” Dennis asks.
“We thought it might be easier for you to starting talking with just one of us.”
“You … decided without me?” Dennis says, sounding not quite frustrated, but certainly not pleased.
“We didn’t decide anything for you,” Robby denies, “Just giving you the option.”
There’s a firm inhale and slow sigh out from his passenger seat.
“Probably for the best,” Dennis agrees, sounding like he’s been sentenced to the gallows.
Robby reaches over the console, pats Dennis’ thigh.
It’s an hour and change by the time they’re home, fed, showered, and ready to talk when Robby announces, “Alright,” and lays that hand back on Dennis’ thigh so he can thumb over his skin. “I’m going to talk at you for a bit.”
They’ve settled back into the couch, with Dennis’ back to his chest. With it being so hard to talk about, he figured it might be easier to get at least some words out this way. He can’t see Dennis’ face, that’s kind of the point, and Dennis obligingly nods.
“To start with, you are not ‘in trouble’. Jack and I are not upset, and you have done nothing wrong. I know it might not feel like it, with how we’ve been prodding you, but we’ve been doing it because we care. And because we’re both too used to getting our way from being attendings.
I want to understand, because you’ve been behaving differently and when I’ve mentioned it, you’ve clammed right up. You’ve been extra cuddly, quiet, a bit down, and sex-repulsed, but also have been switching on for work. That’s all I can see, and there’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s not the Dennis I’m used to, and I – Jack and I – want to be there with you, whatever you’re going through.”
He slowly slowly, keeping an eye out for any particular reaction from Dennis, but he’s just nodding along. Doesn’t reply, so Robby continues.
“I get the feeling that you don’t want to tell us, whatever it is. Is there someone else who you can talk to about it? Trinity?”
There’s a fidget, then a sharp shake of Dennis’ head.
“OK. Would Jack and I be appropriate people to tell, ignoring it being uncomfortable?”
“Yeah,” Dennis admits, head hanging.
He keeps up the semi-circle strokes of his thumb. Prays to whoever might be listening that his voice doesn’t crack when he asks, “Is it something to do with our relationship?”
Dennis nods, and Robby feels the bottom drop out of his stomach.
“OK,” fuck, his voice is already wobbling. He should’ve known better, should’ve asked Jack to handle the tough talk. “Is there … is there a problem, with it?” He isn’t really even sure what he’s trying to ask, not sure if he’s being coherent.
Dennis’ hand lands over the top of his, and he pulls it to his chest to interlace Robby’s fingers with his. “It’s not – not about you and Jack. You’re great, fantastic,” he gets out, clearly struggling with the words. “It’s me.”
He squeezes Dennis’ hand in his, “You’re also fantastic, in case you didn’t know,” and before Dennis can try to refute it, and also rapidly feeling much better about the issue not being about their relationship specifically, he summarises, “So, it’s something about you, which impacts our relationship, that you haven’t wanted to talk to us about. Are you worried about our reaction?”
Dennis nods.
“Do you think we’d be worried, or angry, or?” He leads.
“It’s disgusting,” Dennis blurts, “I feel disgusting. You’re holding me, here, being the best boyfriend and trying to talk me through this fucking – and … there’s something wrong with me,” he moans, losing steam almost immediately and dropping his head into his hands.
“Oh, kiddo,” Robby says, going to embrace Dennis a little closer if it wasn’t for the way he jolts in Robby’s hold and nearly makes them headbutt. “So,” he says, not really sure if he’s going to address it before he sees a bright flush over Dennis’ neck. Addressing it, it is. “That's a new reaction.”
Dennis, finding within himself some confidence or even desperation just to have the conversation over, latches onto it. “It’s – it’s kind of about that. That you and Jack make me feel … like a kid. I know that you both don’t think that, it’s about how I feel.”
They’d had plenty of discussions about the age thing when they’d decided to make it official. They'd worked through a lot; a lot of assumptions and anxieties. Once the difficult job of getting everything out in the air was finally done they’d come to resolutions pretty quickly, and had even made enough progress that Dennis would occasionally call Robby Daddy in bed. It’s not a constant thing, but it’s a well-worn and comfortable dynamic now. So it’s with both some confusion and some precedent that he asks, “Is it a bad feeling?”
“No? I feel, um,” Dennis takes a breath, body wound up like he’s fighting not to bolt from Robby’s embrace, “Like, safe. It’s good. But I feel bad about – feeling that way.”
Robby stares, thinking, into the back of Dennis’ head. Dennis and Jack have none of Robby’s shyness at emotional declarations or openness, when they’ve decided to commit to it, but here is Dennis, appearing for all accounts like he’s in actual agony because he feels safe with his boyfriends.
“Dennis, I feel like I’m missing something.” He wants to say you’re not telling me something like the vindictive bastard he is. A bastard who knows better than to pick a fight and give Dennis a reason he could run from the conversation.
“I know,” Dennis moans.
“It sounds like you know what it is, and could articulate it, but it would make you … embarrassed?” Robby guesses, knowing it’s cruel but wanting to put Dennis out of his misery.
Dennis nods into his hands.
“Would it help if we called Jack and he told you some more residency stories of him and I?” He asks, halfheartedly knowing Dennis’ issue is more serious than that, but also unsure how to comfort him. “I’m going to love you no matter what,” he leans over to peck a kiss on Dennis’ shoulder.
“You know, how I didn’t have a great childhood,” Dennis starts, stilted.
It feels like his whole being comes to attention, followed by that same, sudden intensity in his chest, but it’s centred over his heart this time. He wants to wrap his arms around Dennis and hide him away from anything that could ever hurt him. Knows not to suffocate him, though. Not when that he’s trying so hard to talk it out. “Understatement,” he mutters reflexively, then, “Yes.” Dennis has never said much past the bare minimum, and Robby’s always tried to be respectful.
“OK I need you to just listen now, or I don’t think I’ll be able to say it,” Dennis rushes out, apparently having found his footing. Robby nods, unseen, and Dennis charges on, “I didn’t really, like, get to be a kid. How other people did.” His hand scrubs through his hair, one of his nervous tells. “So, you’re both older than me and we’re all adults. But when I’m around you and Jack, and I’m feeling kind of worn out or emotional or I don’t even know what, sometimes it feels like just you two are the adults, and I can trust you to be the adults. Good ones. And I … I want you to be. Cause I feel like I’m getting to be looked after and taken care of, and I can be that kid, at that age, because I have you. Because I’m safe.”
He pauses, Robby doesn’t know whether it’s to breathe, or gather his thoughts, but the silence stretches a little long.
Robby swallows around what must be a baseball lodged in his throat, “Can I talk? Or do you want more-?”
“No, just – please. I’m sorry,” and Dennis breaks down into tears there, barely getting the apology out through a hasty inhale. Robby knows what he’s doing very well from experience, that big breath of air in like it’ll hold all of your tears and prevent you from losing control on the exhale.
He throws caution to the wind and thoroughly gathers Dennis into his arms then, pulling him side on so he can curl into Robby’s chest if he wants. He goes for it immediately, snuffling and throwing an arm around Robby’s shoulder. Robby can barely see what he’s doing through the tears swimming in his own eyes, “I love you. Don’t apologise, you don’t need to apologise for any of that. For anything,” he starts, and finds himself similarly lost for words as his throat burns, a sure sign he’ll be sobbing along with Dennis any moment.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Dennis huffs, scrubbing at his eyes. Before Robby can reiterate no more apologising, he says, “Does that – do you get the idea?” He’s half laughing as it says it, in the delirium of having finally aired what he’s been sitting on for so long.
Robby sniffs, wipes at his own eyes, tries to gather himself. “I think so. Generally. I have some questions but, Dennis, there is nothing about that or about you that is disgusting.”
Dennis shifts, shrugging.
“I mean it,” Robby adds, with as much sincerity he can project. “Can I ask those questions now, or do you want some time?”
“Now, please,” Dennis’ laugh is thin, “I don’t think I can cope doing this again.”
“Reading it back,” Robby starts, like the shorthand they use to make sure they’ve understood each other. “There are times where you feel mentally younger, and this is happening around Jack and I? And it’s a good feeling, but you’ve been nervous about how we’d feel?”
Dennis swallows, painful around a dry throat, “Yep.”
“Alright,” Robby soothes, rubbing his back. He’ll have to think later about how they’re going to catch Jack up to speed, if Dennis is still this raw. He gives Dennis an easy one to feel out those waters, “So, would you want Jack and I being actively involved? Don’t worry about anything between now and then, just if you want us to be there, looking after you when you feel young.”
“Yeah.” One of Dennis’ hands fists in Robby’s shirt, and he sniffles, takes a big, wobbly breath in.
“OK?” Maybe that wasn’t an easy one.
“Yep,” comes the tight reply. “That – sounds nice. Both of you.”
Ah, a happy response, maybe? He wipes the tears from Dennis' face with his tee. “Did something happen, or is going on, which is making you feel particularly worn out?”
“Not really, just life, working in an ER. It’s not always like, some big event. Sometimes I just wake up, feeling like that. I can’t control it. It gets kind of, um, harder to ignore if I can’t …” Dennis struggles for the word, “Relax.”
“Must’ve been a hard week, having to fight it off as well as Jack and I,” Robby says, rewarded with a snort against his chest. “Have you felt like this before? Acted on it, by yourself or with someone else?”
“Yes, yes, no,” Dennis says. Clamshell response duly noted, but needing to be steamrolled.
“Can you tell me a bit more about it?”
“… It’s weird.”
“That’s OK. There are lots of weird, good things in the world.” He just waits, knowing that if he stays quiet for just a while Dennis will either find the words or help explain why he’s struggling.
“It’s usually, like, a soothing thing,” he says, at length. “I haven’t been in many great places to um, relax properly, so I don’t really know what it’ll be like, anyway.” Robby’s heart breaks a little more, thinking of all the time Dennis was sleeping rough before Trinity had found him. “But at Trinity’s it happened one weekend while she was away, or I kind of gave into it cause it was been the first time I was alone and in my own space and behind a locked door for, maybe ever. I put all of the adult stuff away, like textbooks and bills and my phone, which I found out later Trin had been calling, but uhm, yeah,” he trails off, clearly overcome with embarrassment again.
Robby uses a particularly gentle tone when he asks, “What did you get up to? Watch any good cartoons?”
“Actually – there was a new season of this one I like, it’s about –” Dennis starts, and then pulls back to look into Robby’s face, “You’re not making fun of me, right?”
“No, angel, I’m not,” Robby strokes his back again, “So, tell me about it?” He asks, keeping that soothing cadence to his voice.
“Robby,” Dennis warns, weak, “I’m trying to have this conversation with you as an adult.”
“Sorry,” Robby says. “I’m not really sure how this works but – do you feel a particular age?” At Dennis’ self-frustrated sigh, he adds, “Or something that can be approximated. Like, the equivalent of a toddler, or?”
Dennis does that half shrug again, “I’m not really sure, I haven’t really thought about it like that. Just, as a kid.”
“Maybe, sometime soon, if we can get you comfortable enough to properly relax and if you feel like talking, you could tell me about the things you like to do? Would that be easier than trying to tell me like this?”
Dennis thinks on it for a while, then nods, “I want to talk about some things beforehand, but that’d be good. But,” he catches himself, “This is already kind of a lot.”
“I know,” Robby agrees, “But you do need to relax. Anything on your mind you want to tell me now, then?”
“Uhm, I know this is stupid, cause you guys don’t do this in front of me anyway, but when I’m like that – I can’t cope with fighting, or yelling, really. Or pain. I think I’m kind of, like, emotionally heightened in a lot of ways.”
“I’m glad you told me, it’s good to know,” Robby says, “Anything else?”
Dennis takes a steadying inhale in, then, “OK, so I call you Daddy sometimes during sex, right? As a kinky thing.”
The whiplash just has Robby saying, “Yes?”
“This thing that we’re talking about now, is not a sex thing. I don’t want it, at all, when I’m feeling this way. That’s the, um, sex repulsion.”
“OK,” Robby nods.
“But,” Dennis continues, with such timing that Robby could laugh. “If it isn’t – if you are OK with it, I guess, I think you’d still be my Daddy. It’d be different, obviously, but I can’t really think of you as anything else. I know it’s complicated,” he adds, in a tone of voice like he’d be apologising if he thought Robby would let him get away with it.
“I think I get it,” he says, “I’d like to try it out for a bit, and then we can talk more about how it’s feeling?” At Dennis’ nod, he continues, “Got anything in mind for Jack?”
Dennis flushes, chewing at his cheek and nodding, “Wanna tell him, though.”
“He’ll be delighted,” Robby says, in complete truth. “Another question; how do you go into it, come out of it? Is there anyway we can make it more comfortable, when it happens?” At Dennis’ soft but still stricken look, he says, “Sorry, right, you probably haven’t had many chances to find out, huh?”
“Not really,” Dennis agrees.
Robby’s eyes cut to the side, so Dennis knows he’s not going to like the next question, which is, “So, can I buy some things for you, for this?”
“Robby,” Dennis fake-cries, hitting his chest lightly. “I’m emotionally vulnerable right now.”
“I know. But I love spoiling you.”
Dennis huffs, long-suffering under the weight of Robby’s credit card.
“Thank you – not about the shopping stuff, just thank you for taking this seriously,” Dennis sniffs.
“Of course,” Robby presses a kiss to the side of his head. “Thank you for telling me. I know it was hard.”
“… Can you tell Jack?”
Robby’s eyebrows lift, “I think Jack might like to hear it from you.”
“I want him to know, and I want to be there when it happens, but Robby, I thought I was going to throw up in your lap earlier.”
“Maybe I can be there to help start the conversation, help you get through some of the hard bits, and then you, Jack, and I can talk together?”
“Yeah,” Dennis says around a yawn.
“Last one before bed,” Robby says, after a yawn of his own. “We’ve got a couple days off together, so I think it’d be a good time to, y’know, try it out. After we talk with Jack. I’d like him to be there with us, the first time.”
“Me too,” Dennis agrees easily. “I’m scared,” he mumbles.
“And very brave. I’m really proud of you. We’ll follow your lead, whatever you’re ready for,” Robby says, knowing it’s toeing the line after all of this but – it’s how he feels. When Dennis doesn’t follow up, he offers, “Bedtime?”
“Bedtime,” Dennis says, untangling himself slowly from Robby.
Jack arrives home to the smell of toast and buttery eggs. He leaves his things at the door, to be dealt with after he’s recovered some energy, and finds Dennis halfway through breakfast, frowning at something on his phone.
“Hey, welcome home,” Dennis puts his phone away, turning to Jack with a smile. He knows, after a bit of trial and error, that Jack doesn’t like to be asked about his shifts. He’ll come to them if and when he wants to talk about it, but he likes to leave it at the door, in his words.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Jack kisses the top of his head as he passes by the table. “Been up long?”
“Kinda,” Dennis says, and Jack doesn’t even need to prod, because he adds, “Robby and I talked last night. It was good. I’m just thinking about a things, I guess. Couldn’t sleep much.”
“Feeling anxious?”
“A bit, but it’s not like I’m anxiety spiralling, or it’s worry keeping me up.” Dennis meets his eyes, “And I know we haven’t talked yet; I want to. Robby helped me talk about it and I think I need him to help again.”
“He’s good like that,” Jack agrees, well aware of how Robby can pull the truth out of a person. “Feeling like you might be up to it today, after I’ve had some sleep?”
Dennis chews at his cheek, “Yeah, I don’t want to drag it out.”
“I’m gonna have a shake and then go hopefully catch Robby before he’s up – wanna join, see if you can’t catch up on those missed hours?”
“I’ll try,” Dennis says, “Might just lay there with my eyes closed.”
Dennis wakes up again, at some point late in the morning judging by the shade of light from the curtains, to the voices of his boyfriends talking.
“So, I hear you and Dennis spoke last night.”
“You did, did you?”
Jack’s fingers scratch through Dennis’ curls and he presses into his hand, “Mhm, a little mouse told me.”
“Is said mouse ready to have that conversation again?” Robby asks, peering around Jack’s head.
“I think so,” Dennis says.
“That’s good,” Robby acknowledges, “I know you’re still nervous to tell Jack, but I promise you it’s going to be OK. I love you, he loves you, and that isn’t going to change.”
“I love you both,” Dennis says, and when Jack goes to tell him too, he puts a finger to his lips. Jack kisses the tip of his finger, and he can’t help the laugh even as he says, “Let me get it out first, then you can – say whatever you want,” he concedes. Decides that saying you can decide if you want to say it back would be too controversial and lead them into an argument before they begun. “This is feeling weirdly easy cause I think I’m still half asleep, so I’m going to try to get it all in one go again.” Jack nods seriously. “So, you and Robby have been married for years, and are older than me.” Jack nods again, a little confused. “I … did not really have a great adults around growing up. It wasn’t a good environment, and I ... didn’t get to be a kid. Or, get good experience with it,” and with these breadcrumbs it seems Jack’s already putting the pieces together, face twitching like he’s fighting off sadness. Dennis is grateful for Robby having faced him the other way the night earlier. He doesn’t think he could’ve done it like this, the first time around. “Sometimes, now when I’m feeling – just feeling not good, I guess – it’s nice to be taken care of. And with you and Robby, I feel really secure.” He looks to Robby, feeling like he’s most of the way there, and yet still unable to summarise the feeling.
Robby pipes in, “Feels safe to be little and young, and have us there as the adults,” nosing at Jack’s hair. “Wants to be looked after by us.”
Jack finally loses the fight, the corners of his mouth pursing. Not in displeasure or upset, not with how his hand comes up to cradle Dennis’ face, turns him so their gazes meet.
Jack simply says, “I love you.”
And that sets Dennis off crying again. Not sobbing like the night prior but just a few tears of pure emotion needing an escape.
He sets his hand over Jack’s, “I love you too.”
He can hear the sniffles which signify Robby fighting off tears, so he tries to pull himself together for all of their sakes.
It’s not an easy feat – they spend what must be hours laying in bed, talking about it all.
It’s still awkward and stilted at times, but they both care. Are listening with genuine interest and sincerity. It feels fucking surreal. He has to take a break a few times to just press his palms against his eyes and breathe through the intensity. They’re so clearly trying not to push, but they want to know everything, want to be a part of it. He’d been so, so scared of their disgust. Had been so focused on it, kind of to avoid thinking about the possibility that they’d want nothing to do with it – or him, in that state.
If they were disgusted, at least it was real. At least they cared enough about him to be angry.
But they’re not. Robby’s petting over his arm and Jack’s got the other pulled between them with their fingers interlaced, and they’re talking between themselves about Dennis’ cuddling habits.
“I can’t do it on command,” Dennis says. “And I’m getting nervous, with both of you expecting something.”
“Sorry,” Jack says, cutting Robby off deliberately. “Is there something I – or we – can do to help you relax? Or not do?”
Dennis rubs at his eyes, frustrated, “I don’t know.”
Jack’s seen enough temper tantrums in his life in the ER to worry they might get Dennis there via a meltdown instead. He doesn’t know if either he or Robby could forgive themselves if Dennis’ first experience was prompted by unhappiness or discomfort. “Let’s not force it. How about we go take a shower, get refreshed, and see where the rest of the day takes us in the meantime? We’ve spent plenty of it in bed, already.”
Dennis nods, a bit miserable, and takes off first for the bathroom.
“I’ll leave it to you?” Robby asks in Dennis’ wake.
“If you don’t mind – having both of us here is probably giving him performance anxiety,” Jack says.
Robby gives him a parting kiss, and then Jack is trailing after Dennis.
The shower is already going, Dennis standing under the spray.
Jack undresses and crutches over to the entry, lowering himself to the bench and then scooting across to join Dennis. The water is almost searing, so he gives the handle a tap in the cool direction. “Hey,” Dennis complains.
“Come sit down, you grump,” Jack says, patting the spot beside him which has been thoroughly warmed.
Still, despite the betrayal, Dennis joins him. It’s achingly similar to that first night Jack had thought something was off about Dennis; when they’d showered together just so he could keep an eye on him.
Dennis looks at him expectantly, and Jack pops the cap of the shampoo bottle.
“Let me,” he says, and Dennis shuts his eyes, turning his torso more to face him.
Slowly, but inevitably, Dennis slumps under his hands. Eyelids flutter shut and his breathing evens out. “Nice, isn’t it? I’ll give you a proper head massage some time, OK?”
Dennis hums just barely between his palms.
Jack grabs the shower head, switching it to low pressure and telling Dennis, “Tilt back your head,” as he guides the water over his hairline, other hand running through the strands to agitate out the shampoo.
He puts in a little conditioner, and guides Dennis’ head to his shoulder, just like before. “Want me to do you?” Dennis murmurs into his neck.
“In a minute.”
It’s nice to just sit and breathe in the warm, dense air.
Before they can start getting restless, he nudges Dennis with the shampoo bottle, “Alright, me too.”
Dennis plays with his hair more than he washes it. Pours out way too much shampoo and froths it up enough that he’s styling Jack’s hair with it, though Jack doesn’t speak up about it. Just lets Dennis feel it out as he gives Jack spikes, then a mohawk, then a neat side part.
He has to call it when the water starts to cool, but he’d swears as they finish up the shower that Dennis is in a much better mood than he went in with.
Once Jack’s comfortable against the counter, Dennis just lets him towel him down, rub the largest of the drops from his hair. Then, that turns into him helping Dennis dry off the rest of the way. His big, wide eyes just following Jack around and crinkling in a smile as Jack wipes down the ticklish parts of his side ribs.
When they’re ready to go get dressed, Jack just hopes neither Dennis or Robby will spook each other out of this mood, but finds Robby engrossed in reading on his tablet. He feels like he’s getting away with something sneaky as he sits Dennis on the edge of the bed in his towel, and turns to the wardrobe.
“Hm, I think we’re gonna have a day at home, so let’s stay comfy,” he narrates, finding boxers, sweatpants, a tank, and a sweater for Dennis.
He turns back and finds Dennis just waiting patiently where he left him, but Robby’s now come to attention at his words. Dennis can’t see him, faced towards Jack in between them, and it might be for the best with the intensity of Robby’s gaze, which Jack deliberately doesn’t meet and avoids drawing attention to.
He puts the tops beside Dennis, handing him the pants first, and he takes them, but it’s slow – like he’s not really on the same page about needing to put them on, or how to. Jack might’ve done more than he thought in the shower, or, Dennis was really this close this whole time.
“One leg at a time,” he leads, and helps Dennis shimmy into the boxers and then sweats. He takes to the tank and shirt a bit easier. “Now, what’m I gonna wear?” He muses, turning back to the wardrobe, but only half way so he can watch Dennis.
Dennis, who’s fiddling with the corner of the wet towel on his lap. When he notices Jack looking, he says, “Blue jumper. ‘s soft.”
This kid … “Dennis,” he says, “The towel’s all wet, you’re gonna get your pants damp.”
Appearing enamoured with the sensation of running his hand over the fabric laid out across his leg, Dennis declines to comment.
“How about, I’ll put on the blue one and Robby will find you a nice, soft blanket instead?”
Dennis’ nose crinkles.
Jack wheels closer. Robby’s still watching them like a hawk, like if he blinks they’ll disappear.
Jack holds his hand out, and Dennis squirms and overall seems unhappy about it, but does hand over the towel. Well, more like gathers it in his hands and drops it vaguely in the direction of Jack’s upturned palm such that he has to grab for it before it falls.
“Thank you, baby,” Jack says, and it’s on his step back to the hamper when Dennis turns to look for Robby.
Robby, who looks a little starstruck, but rises to the occasion. He scooches over to where Dennis is sat, pats over his leg first and confirms, “Still dry,” before withdrawing and reaching up to the higher storage where they keep the bedding. “This one?” He asks, pulling out a fleecy plaid one he remembers Dennis enjoying cuddling into.
“Yep yep,” Dennis agrees, hands reaching out for it, face lightening at last.
“Want me to burrito you?” Robby asks, and that – that gets a laugh from Dennis. More like a giggle, short and pleased. He nods, enthused.
He helps Dennis take hold of one of the ends, then wraps it around him until the blanket runs out. Finishes by wrapping Dennis and all that fabric in his arms.
“Cuddle bugs, you two,” Jack huffs as he finishes dressing, pulling on the awaited blue sweater. Robby’s rocking the two of them back and forth, kissing the top of Dennis’ head. God, Jack thinks, they’re gonna do anything for their boy.
Dennis mumbles something into the fabric bunched around his chest.
“Didn’t catch that, sweetheart,” Jack says.
... Papa too …” Dennis says, just loud enough to be heard in the quiet room.
Robby’s watching Jack, he’s watching Dennis, and Dennis’s avoiding looking at either of them.
“Me too? I’m Papa?” Jack grins, and wheels over to sit on the other side of Robby, throwing his arms around them.
Dennis’ smile is shy, smushed as he is between their chests.
Robby shepherds them out eventually for an afternoon meal when his stomach growls and Dennis breaks into giggles.
Jack says it’s Robby’s turn to cook, and because he truly does cook so often Robby really can’t deny him, but he’s then stuck prepping deli sandwiches while Jack gets to make Dennis a hot chocolate and cuddle him while Dennis drinks from both hands wrapped around the warm mug.
And Jack, the ass, keeps adding to the orders too. Asking for things that don’t go into sandwiches but Robby knows, intellectually, are probably a good call cause they don’t know what kind of food Dennis might feel like eating. So he ends up with an assortment of sandwich triangles, along with crackers, carrot sticks, a little bowl of yoghurt, and some apple slices.
It’s a cool day but they head outside on the patio, watching the birds. Dennis is particularly interested, getting distracted from where he’s deconstructing all of Robby’s careful ingredient layering whenever he sees one flit past.
“We should get some markers so you can draw them for us,” Robby muses, around a mouthful.
“Mm, lots ‘a colours,” Dennis agrees, halfway around the knuckle he’s shoved in his mouth.
“And maybe some things to chew on, hey kiddo?” Jack’s hand strokes gently over his shoulders. “Don’t you wanna eat something?”
“No – I won’t,” Dennis’ hand flees from his mouth. He looks uncertainly at the mess of food he’s made on his plate.
“Hey, hey,” Jack coos, “Nothing wrong with it.” When Dennis doesn’t reply, but still looks a little unsure, Jack reaches over to take Dennis’ hand and manually pops the knuckle back in his mouth. “Just don’t chew too hard until we get you something proper, OK?”
Dennis is swimming in all of the words, but he nods, “’Kay.”
“There are plenty of things we need to get our boy, actually, so tell us if you think of something,” Jack continues, giving Robby a look like he’s not already writing notes.
“I think we should avoid glass or ceramic, so we need things like sip cups and tableware,” Robby says, reaching over to move Dennis’ glass, which had been left on the very edge of the table, further in.
“Can I have some markers, now? ‘nd paper,” Dennis interrupts, casting a look between Jack and Robby.
“Think we’ve only got black ones, but I’ll get them,” Jack is up like a shot, not forgetting to give Dennis’ hair a ruffle as he goes past. Robby, at such close range, hears the tiny giggle from Dennis in response.
“Gonna draw us some birds?” Robby asks.
“Maybe,” Dennis drawls, looking out over the balcony.
“Oh, is it a secret?”
“Mhm,” Dennis agrees.
Jack returns quickly and hands over a notebook and a few markers of different sizes that Robby recognises from the office.
“Thank you,” Dennis sings sweetly, taking the pens from Jack with the satisfaction of his will fulfilled.
He settles back into his chair, pulling his knees up so he can draw in his lap, and angles the book away from them both. “Dennis is drawing some secrets,” Robby informs Jack, and then returns to his own list, “So, where were we ... coloured markers and books. Well, drawing books. Why don’t we try some reading books, too?”
Dennis doesn’t seem that fussed, but it’s not a no, so Robby adds them.
“What about toys?” Jack complains, like the cheeky bastard he is.
Dennis looks over, interested.
“What were you thinking?” Robby asks, looking between them both.
“I always liked Lego, as a kid,” Jack offers, and Dennis hums.
“Stuffed toys, too,” Robby adds.
Dennis nods again.
“Anything you want, Dennis?” Robby prods, but Dennis’ is clearly put off by the question, at least in some way, frowning down at his lap.
He fidgets with the marker, “I – I dunno. Yet. Can I – can I know later?”
“Of course, that’s a good idea. We can always get it later if you think of something,” Jack says. “Oh! Cars and trucks. We can have a little racetrack,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.
And Dennis is pleased too, agreeing with another of his self-satisfied nods.
“Those sound like some good toy ideas to start with,” he says, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at Jack. It might take some time, but he wants Dennis to have the option to choose things of his own, too. He and Jack will get ahead of themselves and little Dennis seems like he’ll agree to any suggestions.
Dennis does eventually find his way around to the food, thank g-d, and eats with one hand and draws with the other until he runs out of food. Or, the food he likes, anyway. He’s not at all a picky eater as an adult, so Robby watches quite curiously at what he leaves behind.
It's a lovely, aimless meal and after Dennis grows bored of drawing and listening to his and Jack’s chatter, he drawls, “Cannn I watch TV?”
Jack says, “Of course,” and pulls him inside and onto the couch. Robby hears him through the open door, asking, “Can you tell me about your favourite show? Papa will find it for you.”
His eyes slide shut, just listening to Dennis’ half non-nonsensical descriptions. He starts off on one thing, gets distracted explaining the plot of an episode, then by describing his favourite character, before Jack realises he needs to lead a little firmer and guides Dennis back to the high level stuff, like maybe the name of the show, or what kind of animals are in it and the things they do.
He laughs silently. This love – it feels like it’s filling his whole chest. Feels like he’s going to burst with it.
They do get there, in the end. It sounds like it’s kind of by mistake; Jack is clicking on another show, and Dennis must spot the thumbnail elsewhere on the screen, saying “There! That one!” and then, “No! No! Back, th’ other one! No th’ other, other one!”
He can’t help his laugh at that, but it’s eclipsed by Dennis’ happy shout when Jack finally picks the right one and the intro song starts playing.
“Daddy, you’re missing it!” Jack calls from inside.
Shit, he is.
He does two quick trips to collect all of their mess before the birds find it, and then squeezes in on the other side of the couch. Kisses Dennis on the top of the head, who doesn’t move from where he’s fixated on the screen, and leans over him to kiss Jack.
Jack’s face is giddy, and he can feel the same pouring out of him.
They watch an episode – honestly, children’s programming moves so fast these days he’s still trying to make sense of the plot by the time the next episode is autoplaying.
“He’s so cute,” Jack whispers, incredulous, as the next episode starts up. They’re only short, it won’t hurt to watch a few, and Dennis is still so focused on it.
“He is,” Robby agrees.
“You bring in the food, by the way?” Jack asks, not able to see from where he’s sitting.
“Yeah, I thought –”
He’s cut off by Dennis pouting, “You’re not watching!”
“I am, I am,” he soothes, rubbing a palm over Dennis’ shoulder, “but I need to talk to Papa for a little bit, OK? We’ll be quiet.”
Dennis grumbles, but says, “’kay.”
The afternoon and then the evening go somewhere, Jack’s not really sure, but it’s a pleasant way to spend it; not doing anything in particular other than spending time with Dennis and Robby. But when the sun’s long since set and Dennis is still deeply young, and the looks between himself and Robby only increase in frequency.
“Bedtime soon,” Robby murmurs, from where they’ve found themselves back on the couch. Dennis is curled up on his side between him and Jack, his head on Jack’s lap.
“No,” Dennis drawls, even as he’s yawning.
“Your Daddy’s gonna be all cold and alone in bed, without his Dennis to hold,” he tries.
Dennis is clearly thinking about it.
“Daddy stays here,” he arrives at after a few moments, “Papa, too.”
“We’ve got a little dictator on our hands, don’t we?” Jack laughs.
“I can’t sleep on the couch, baby, I’ll get a sore back. Your Papa, too,” Robby says, sounding every inch of the gruff, softie Jack loves. “We’ve gotta get some good sleep, I think we’re going to go shopping tomorrow.”
“Sh’ping?” Dennis slurs.
“Uh huh,” Robby says, and the look he cuts at Jack says change of plans, bedtime now before he falls asleep, ‘cause I will throw out my back trying to carry him. They know each other too well.
Jack takes on the necessary evil, and slides his hands under Dennis’ shoulders, slowly pushing him up to sitting despite his vocal groans of displeasure.
“No,” he whines, eyes squinted shut.
“Oh, someone’s a bit overtired,” Jack says, finally realising. “I know, I know. It’s going to be a bit uncomfortable for a sec, but then you’ll be sooo warm and cozy with Daddy and I.” He gets to standing, and holds Dennis against him as Robby comes up last, cracking his back with a loud sigh. He hands Dennis off to Robby, knowing it’ll be a dangerous game to try to support Dennis anywhere unless he’s in his wheelchair, which he doesn’t have nearby. “Daddy’s gonna go take you to brush your teeth, and then it’s bedtime.”
Dennis grizzles some more, but when Robby takes his hand and wraps an arm around him, just silently and slowly guiding him towards the en-suite, Dennis follows without further theatrics.
He crutches over, needing the extra stability with how tired he is, not wanting to tempt the knee roller even just with himself. He sets up some water on the bedside tables, replaces the tissues which’d run out at some point in the morning’s emotional discussions, and overall feels himself start to wind down for the night. They’ve made it through.
He can hear Dennis whinging about the mint-flavoured toothpaste, and Robby, trying to figure out whether it’s worth it to get him to finish brushing or not. He opens his phone to the shared shopping list note they’ve been writing today, and adds non-mint toothpaste and when Dennis keeps complaining about the sharp feeling, adds softer toothbrush.
But God, after it’s all done, when they’re in bed and he’s sliding in on the other side to cocoon Dennis in the middle, he can’t think of too many things in life which top it. He pets Dennis’ curls, and their boy is already asleep and drooling on the pillow. Robby says, in that bone-deep tired way of his, “Love you.”
And Jack isn’t even sure Robby’s still awake to hear his natural reply, “Love you too.”
Robby wakes before Dennis, probably just from the anticipation of following up on the previous day. Jack is nowhere to be found in bed, and once Robby squints on his glasses and finds his phone, he’s indeed got a text that Jack’s around the house. Was undoubtedly getting too antsy laying in bed.
Dennis rouses not long after, a long gust of an exhale leaving him as he stretches, then flops bonelessly back to the mattress. “Morning,” he mumbles, face half-covered by a pillow.
“G’morning sweetheart,” Robby replies. “Sleep well?”
“Really good,” Dennis confirms, breathes slow and deep for a few minutes. “I feel better, after yesterday, I think.”
“Ah,” Robby looks over the rims of his glasses, “Feeling a bit bigger, today?”
Dennis flushes, “Yes. Normal.”
“Welcome back, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Robby says.
“Thank you, for … everything yesterday. And Jack, where is he?”
“Around, he wouldn’t be far without knowing how you were feeling.”
They don’t laze in bed for much longer, feeling similarly to Jack that they’d done enough of that the day before, and meet him in the kitchen for coffee.
Jack wraps Dennis in a big hug, swaying with him. “I know you’re feeling adult today,” Jack acknowledges at Dennis’ quiet protests, “Still wanna hold you. I did this before, you know.”
“I know,” Dennis acquiesces.
Robby watches them, “Still feel up for going shopping, today?”
Dennis instinctively hides in Jack’s chest. “I think so. It’s a lot, but I think we should.”
They leave Jack to his workout, and because if two adult men would look strange toy shopping, three is far beyond Dennis’ comfort limit. Robby keeps a warm, wide hand on his thigh as they drive, reminding him of the cover story Dennis had needed for his nerves when his leg starts bouncing, “We’re just going shopping for your nephew.”
Dennis feels faint, even more stark when he steps out of the car and has to decide to put one foot in front of the other to get to the building. Has walking ever felt this unnatural in his life?
Robby sticks nearby, but gives Dennis the space he’d requested. The whole thing felt so complicated already, he didn’t need the judgemental stares of homophobes, and well, the more valid stares about their age difference. Having Robby there, but at a friendly distance, will also probably curb the worst of the ache in his chest when he’s needing to stay – stay as Dennis, the adult. Robby’s voice is reassuring as they head into the store, alone for the early hour and weekday, “Don’t need to get much today, if you don’t wanna. We can get the rest delivered, after you know what you want.”
Knowing what he wants sounds like an impossible task. He nods.
Robby, having the sixth sense of an angel, sticks a little in front and guides them through the store, swiping one of the trolleys on his way. Looking at the empty cart gives him nausea, but then so does seeing the approaching colourful displays, so he just watches where he walks.
Fishing out his phone, Robby pulls up the shopping list and props it up in the cart while squinting on his glasses. It’s so domestic. The ache in Dennis’ chest asserts itself, and he valiantly squashes it.
“Alright, drawing stuff,” Robby announces, and steers them around to the arts aisle. He grabs packs of pencils, markers, and pens, presenting them to Dennis with a leading smile, “Think he’ll like them?”
Dennis can only nod. He feels completely hollowed out – like he’s on another planet, just watching Robby and this fantastical dream through a receiver. He’ll only remember it later, but Robby pats his shoulder after depositing them in the cart.
“Feeling alright?” Robby asks, not moving on.
He has to force the inhale in, “Yes. No. I think I need a minute.”
“OK. Need to sit?” He asks, and Dennis shakes his head. Plants his hands on the cage of the trolley and just lets his head hang down between his shoulders. “I’ll keep an eye out, just breathe.” His hand returns, stroking lightly over his back.
It, annoyingly, really does help. He acclimatises to the temperature in the store (mild, but with that unmistakable retail stuffiness), the sounds, and the lighting. Maybe he’d just needed some time to process what was happening. He’s here, with Robby, and they’re just shopping for his nephew. All Dennis has to do is find things he might like, within the shopping list they already have. The thinking is all already done. They’d spent plenty of time talking about the newness of the entire situation, for all of them, and how there was probably going to be a lot of trial and error. Jack had reminded him of that before they'd parted ways too, how they should just get one of everything and see what stuck when Dennis was small. He’d protested, only because Robby probably would get him one of everything if allowed.
“I’m OK,” he sighs.
“OK to head back to the car now, or OK to keep going?” Robby asks, watching his face carefully.
“OK to keep going.”
Robby stares at him for a moment longer, then nods. A smile comes to his mouth – not mocking, not like Dennis’ fears, but comforting and a little parental. It does a number to Dennis’ head, this smile he gets when Robby’s quietly pleased for him but isn’t going to say it aloud. He looks back to the shelves and raises his eyebrows curiously; would Dennis like to pick something?
It’s silly, how easy it is. As his eyes land on them, he realises they never thought of colouring books. He picks up a handful, ignoring Robby’s gentle gaze on him, and flicks through them. Two go into the cart, and then he’s hooking his fingers into the grid of the trolley and dragging it along with him because there are blank drawing pads to pick from too.
Robby rejoins him in browsing when they mosey to the reading book section. Dennis steers him towards the junior novels, advising with a borrowed confidence, “He likes being read to, so denser stuff is OK.” Robby takes his guidance, and returns with a few suggestions for Dennis to have the final say on.
The plush toy section is … a revelation. “Gotta make sure they’re soft, don’t feel plastic-y,” Robby says with an overwrought seriousness, fluffing up the fur of a toy dog that’s surely bigger than some of the kids it’s bought for. He kind of can’t take it, how much he loves this man. Wants to yell it at the top of his lungs just so he can try to put the feeling somewhere. Wishes he could capture the moment for Jack, somehow. He manages a wobbly smile back.
He has to imagine his nephew, who he’s shopping for, to keep on track. He finds a snake, equipped with a crinkly centre, and a puppydog with the biggest eyes. But it’s a bear which he finds he can’t part from. It’s oversized and stuffed firm for a teddy, meaning it’ll hold well for someone a bit bigger, and Robby was right, the fur texture really is important. He can’t really explain it, other than it feels better than the rest of them. He kind of doesn’t want to put it down.
But he relinquishes it to the trolley, because he knows that the sooner they finish, the sooner he can get home and hold it, Robby, and Jack.
“I think I’m running out of decision making. Can we do the rest another time?” he asks, before they take off again.
Robby nods, “Wanna head off now, or is it OK if I pick up some things and you just walk with me?”
Dennis’ is happy to trail on after Robby.
Until it’s mortifying, even though he’s contributing nothing, to watch Robby flick through the list and efficiently pile in teething toys, sip cups, plastic tableware of all kinds, toiletries, pyjamas & lounge wear – he has to step in when Robby’s paused a moment to deliberate over which night light he’s going to add to the heaped trolley, “Isn’t this … um, enough?”
Robby blinks at him, evidently not thinking so, so Dennis tries again.
“I think this is enough.”
After a long moment, Robby concedes, placing it back, “For now,” he clarifies.
Dennis takes the small mercy, “I’d like to go home.”
“On it,” Robby agrees, and they start the walk over to the registers. He speaks in an undertone long before they near the counter, “You can be on your phone and let me handle the talking, if you want.”
Dennis could weep for Robby’s kindness. “Thank you,” he sighs in relief, fishing out his phone.
He sees only the profile of Robby’s smile as they walk.
Indeed Robby does carry the conversation, and all Dennis needs to do is help hold one of the bags for the walk back to the car.
Once the bags are stashed and they’ve both sat and shut the doors, Robby turns back to him, “So?” He’s smiling.
“That was … really nice,” Dennis is smiling back. Couldn’t stop himself if he tried. “Overwhelming, obviously. And thank you so much – I couldn’t have done that without you there. Without your help.”
“It was nice,” Robby agrees. “Now you know you can do it; that was all you, baby. But I’m happy I could be there. Got to see your face when you heard the snake crinkle that first time.”
Dennis huffs at the memory; how was he supposed to know?
“Ready to head home?” Robby asks, hand on the gear stick.
“Home,” Dennis nods.