Work Text:
Dennis wakes with a pounding headache and the mortification that he may have announced in front of one of his attendings that he wanted him and his husband to train him like a dog.
At first he thinks (hopes) it was a dream. But the feeling of stubble against his mouth is too fresh in his mind, and the picture of Dr Robby's wide eyes after he'd kissed his-
Jesus fuck he'd kissed them both. On the cheek but still!
He sits up immediately, the abrupt movement threatening to split his head in two but he pushes through the pain and stumbles out to the kitchen. Some Tylenol and two glasses of water later, he's spiralled enough to make some breakfast in a haze, an offering for Trinity.
He needs a second opinion right now.
Because here's the thing. Had he made a fool of himself in front of his unethical workplace crushes? Yes. But Dr Abbot hadn't seemed disgusted. He'd offered the ride home. And Dr Robby had kissed him first. On the hand like he was some fairytale princess.
And the way Jack had asked for a peck on the cheek…
Anyway.
Second opinion necessary.
Trinity isn't in the best of moods when he knocks lightly on her door to wake her, but the food does perk her up. That and the opportunity to hound Dennis about how obvious he'd been last night.
"I half expected you to drop to your knees." She grins, before taking a bite of her eggs.
Dennis goes pink at the thought, but manages to scoff out a response.
"Well at least I was drunk! You're just as bad at work oh I can do that Dr Garcia, here let me help you Dr Garcia, how did I do Dr Garcia?"
Trinity kicks him but she doesn't deny it.
"Yeah well, Dr Garcia and I fuck on the regular, Huckleberry, you haven't got further than cheek kisses."
In fact, she sounds smug.
Dennis groans at the memory, hiding his face in his hands. Trinity finally takes pity on him.
"It's not like they weren't into it, farmboy. We've talked about it before, the way they treat you at work is pushing boundaries as far as HR would be concerned- ah ah don't inurupt- and last night? Those two were all over you. The only reason they didn't offer to take you home with them is because you were one drink away from passing out."
He peeks out from behind his fingers.
"So I wasn't imagining that?" He clarifies, and Trinity rolls her eyes, exasperated.
"Not even a little."
***
They make a plan from there. Dennis is still not confident enough to make a move on the men, given the aforementioned HR nightmare of it all, so Trinity suggests "actually paying attention for once" until he gets it.
Their next shift, the first thing he notices is Robby's caution. He doesn't stop touching Dennis (Dennis thinks he'd cry if he did), but the wandering hands migrate. To a friendly shoulder clap, a fistbump, or tap to his side rather than a squeeze to the waist.
Dennis mourns the loss of touch, but does make a note of it in his mental diary. If he and Jack had talked about things after that night, well, maybe Robby wasn't on board after all.
Or maybe he's holding himself back from something he really wants to do, the traitorous voice in his head that sounds like Trinity chimes in.
Either way, Dennis keeps track. But Robby's behaviour is only half of what he's been instructed to note. So he has to wait till his next night shift to really be sure.
The thing with Jack, is that he's always been a little wild. At least since Dennis has known him. He's playful, but intense too. Like, you'll catch his eyes and the way he stares makes it feel like he's got all your secrets figured out, only for him to crack a smile or a joke and move on.
He's also the current cause of Dennis's misery (read: case of metaphorical blue balls).
He'll never do it when there's an actual emergency, or when everyone is rushed off their feet, patients in the hallway because there aren't enough beds.
But the moments between, when things are remarkably still and everyone is a little too scared to breathe wrong lest they trigger the next wave of blood and broken bones and scrub changes (for Dennis at least), Jack strikes.
A slow smile, a ruffle of hair, a compliment on a job well done. And just when Dennis lets his shoulders drop, lets the praise and reassurance that he's doing good sink in like he figures the attending was hoping for, seeing him relax, it happens.
click click
The noise from Jack's mouth. Again and again.
"Nice work today, Whitaker."
click click
"Thank you for the heads up."
click click
"You did good, kid. Really."
click click
Dennis honestly feels like he's losing his mind. And he can't even find a club to go blow off some steam because he doesn't want anyone else.
He just wants this.
And the more Jack plays, the more he thinks maybe the two of them really do want this too.
***
The nail in the coffin comes when he's on day shift again.
It's been… rough, to say the least. Fifth set of scrubs and it's only 2pm kind of rough. His last birthday, a select number of PTMC staff members and med students alike had thought it hilarious to each gift him a pair. Joke or not, he now keeps as many spares in his locker as he can, just for days like this.
He hasn't had time for lunch but some days you just have to push through and eat as much as you can before you pass out when you're home instead.
Except.
"Whitaker."
Robby. He doesn't sound happy, and when Dennis turns to face him, already wincing at whatever he's done wrong that he hasn't noticed yet, he doesn't look happy either.
"Um, yes Dr Robby?" He responds, maintaining eye contact as best he can.
He expects a lecture, or a list of patients he needs to see. He doesn't expect to be sent on break.
"But-"
"No buts. I know you haven't eaten since this morning and I will not have you collapsing on this floor. If all you have is a sandwich there's leftover curry and rice in the fridge you can reheat, Jack made extra."
Dennis flushes. He wants to protest more, to prove he's strong enough to manage but his stomach gives a traitorous growl before he can.
Robby smiles triumphantly. And Dennis, of course, turns towards the staff kitchen.
click click
You've got to be fucking shitting him.
He doesn't turn around, can't risk seeing Robby smile at him after that. He doesn't need to see it to know it's there anyway. Eyes to the ground, he slips into the room without being commandeered for anything else and immediately grabs the curry from the fridge to heat.
Thankfully he's alone, with the moan he lets out at the first bite of food. It's like he can feel each mouthful working magic as it goes down. A headache he didn't even notice he had dissipates and when he's all done, he feels refreshed and as ready as he can be to face the rest of the day.
Trepidation forgotten, Dennis finds Robby immediately to thank him. The man looks down at the sleeve Dennis had grabbed with a smile before raising an eyebrow in wordless prompting.
"You were right, sir," Dennis admits. "I really needed that. Thank you, for the food, um, tell Dr Abbot I say thank you too."
He then realises he's still holding Robby's sleeve and lets go but his wrist is caught in a light grip before he can get far. Robby runs a gentle thumb over his pulse point, then lowers the arm down pulls his fingers away.
"You're welcome, Dr Whitaker," he smiles. "Jack and I are more than happy to take care of you when you need it."
And then he's gone, back to work, and Dennis has to shake himself out of his daze to keep working too.
Soooo maybe Trinity's been right all along. And maybe, when Jack comes in for handover this evening, Dennis will have to give them the okay to carry on. Explicitly tell them both exactly what it is he needs. Because they're his superiors, and as much as they've teased and toed the line, Dennis thinks it'll be up to him to make it clear that he wants this. That they aren't in the wrong for wanting it too.