Chapter Text
It was the worst day.
At least for Whitaker.
And the person who came in with shattered femur, and the spinal injury car accident, or the multiple overdoses, or the…-
Okay maybe he specifically wasn’t having the worst day in the Pitt, but it was up there with a rough day.
Click, Click
Like a damn swivel, his head cranes in the direction of the sound without thought before he can even think to correct. It was just some rolling trays being moved, the creak of the wheels offering a familiar enough rhythmic click to trigger him.
Of course he returns to the task at hand- helping Santos intubate a patient, her own eyes flicking up to watch his micro movements he’d been doing all day.
Only after the patient is stable and they are out of the room does she make a comment, elbowing him while she smoothed her now free hands.
“Really jumpy today Huckleberry- you got a stalker I need to deal with or something- you know I’m pretty good with a scalpel. Specifically in foot range-” She teases, swaying a bit to knock into him as they walk, heading towards the nurses station for their next patient.
Click, Click
Again, like clockwork, Dennis is turning his head to the sound. Some family member of a patient pacing outside of a room, clicking their tongue nervously.
Trin then reaches out, grabbing him by the forearm and Dennis meets her questioning gaze- his own solemn expression struggling to keep eye contact.
“Okay not a stalker…” She mumbles, finally stopping the torture that was trying to find the answer on Dennis’ face by glancing over to the noise that had caught his attention.
“It’s nothing.” Dennis tries to explain away. It wasn’t nothing of course- and he was pretty sure he was about to go stupid in the head if he hears another double click sound. But that’s long winded- and as much as he would TMI dump with Santos back at the apartment, he would not be doing such a thing in ear shot of Perlah and Princess.
He’s saved by the bell, or rather the screaming patient in one of the rooms Santos had previously been in.
She acknowledges that she is not giving up on finding out what is the source of the man’s weird behaviors with a smack on his shoulder before she is off to the room, ushering the medical students along with her, might as well make it an educational moment.
Finally given the breather, he heads for the bathroom, pushing through the door with one hand and scrambling for his phone with the other as he goes straight for the stall.
The click of the lock no longer sounds satisfying anymore, just a constant reminder of last night-
Oh god…last night.
He can feel the heat rushing to his face, the way his ears burn bright red and his lip trembles, he’s certain if someone opened the door right at that very moment they would think he was watching porn or something.
But no, he’s just remembering how his attending had him crawling on his hands and knees, clicker in hand commanding him about like a damn dog.
Now every double click has him sinking back into that headspace; Pliant and needy for a man nowhere in sight while he’s supposed to be medically competent.
He unlocks his phone with ease, tapping with a rush that made him struggle to reach the right text thread until he reaches the one of the man responsible for his troubles.
Dennis:'Im going to stomp on that clicker when I come over'
As soon as the message is sent, he clicks the phone off, his thumb gliding over the silence button- a habit that has kicked in ever since the “funky music” incident. He didn’t want to risk a repeat.
His phone buzzes only a second later. Lifting the screen it instantly lights up, a hidden message from ‘Dr. Robinavitch”. Too many greedy gossips at the nurse station not to have it set to hidden.
He unlocks it and immediately falters his frustrations from the first two words:
Dr. Robinavitch: 'My puppy-'
A noise he can only describe as a hybrid of a whine and a sigh escapes him, desperately trying to not dissolve into that dumb pup the older man seems to easily lure out of him.
Dr. Robinavitch: 'My puppy, what’s wrong? Last I checked, that clicker was your best friend.'
Dennis’ hand instinctively reaches for his neck, the skin feeling so bare without the padded leather he had been so graciously gifted.
Suddenly the sound of someone entering the bathroom has him moving- he can’t keep sitting here complaining to the man he begged to clicker train him about how he has been clicker trained too well.
He’d just have to wait for a better time to whimper and grovel to fix him somehow.
—-
Click Click
Dennis was beginning to go mad- he never realized how many people clicked their tongues around him till every click started making him want to slump into a submissive mess on the floor.
Luckily his shift was almost over. Just another hour of being haunted by a mind trick of his own creation and he’ll finally get to be free.
He would busy himself with work- drown out the noise, yeah, that would totally work.
Spoiler, it didn’t.
But a puppy could dream.
“Ah ah ah-” A voice calls out, that familiar hand grasping at his shoulder stilling him from following Mel toward the nurse’s station- and he’s already turning out of instinct to the voice alone.
Robby.
The older’s large hand guides them into an empty patient room before his touch begins to linger lower down Dennis’ back, Robby’s smooth hushed voice sending a shiver through him.
“You alright puppy? You never messaged me back…” His hot breath tickles at the sensitive skin of Whitaker’s neck; if the shorter had a tail he’s certain it would be slapping about- probably give himself a severe case of happy tail if Robby kept talking in that hushed voice of his.
“Y-you-” Dennis cut himself off, collecting his thoughts so he didn’t just melt into puppy space right in the middle of the pitt- that certainly would be a story for the nurses to circulate. “Your training…I keep hearing clicks everywhere now…I think I even slipped away a few times…”
The professional part of Robby wants to scold and correct Dennis for letting such things take over himself while on the job- while human lives are on the line.
But the owner part of Robby couldn’t deny the rush that hit him knowing his dumb little pup was so properly clicker trained he was reacting in an environment where he’s supposed to be focused.
He takes a moment to respond, trying to appease the angel senior attending on his shoulder and the freaky demon on the other.
“Well…we certainly can’t have that now can we…” Robby’s hand settles onto the other’s lower back as he turns to catch those enchanting blue eyes, one Robby couldn’t deny looked like a kicked puppy. It’s probably the main reason why Robby gave in so easily whenever he looked into them.
“How about this, we head back to my place tonight, and I’ll make sure my puppy only listens to my commands?” Then he tilts his head, which earns a soft smile from Dennis, his eyes going from kicked puppy to eagerly awaiting a treat in a split second.
Robby squints his eyes at Whitaker’s face, his own smile curling into a grin before he whispers.
“Use your words, pup.”
“It sounds good, sir.” Dennis quickly spits back, keeping his head low but his eyes fixated on the man encasing him in his presence.
Robby nods, his hand quickly gliding up Whitaker’s back, curling up into that messy mop of dirty blonde hair.
“Good boy.”
With that little touch, the senior is off, the securing presence leaving with him.
Dennis shakes his head, trying to clear out all the thoughts that are telling him to follow after the man like a helpless pup- but he resists. Just barely.
He exits the room, taking a deep breath and searching for whatever to occupy his mind with, it would only be another hour and he could just throw himself in a uber too Robby’s place and be an idiot who knew nothing but needing his owner’s attention.
He just needed to get through this last hour.