When Robby comes home from work, he’s used to hearing the deafening silence of his -frankly, too-big- apartment, used to thinking about what to do with his life for the next few hours before going to bed, waiting for the alarm to go off the next day so he can go to work and finally be a useful person.
But it hasn’t been like that since Dennis came along.
Now, when neither of them has the day off, they come home together, and Dennis’s constant chatter keeps him company and distracts him from all the dark thoughts he used to have without much trouble.
If Dennis has the day off, Michael comes home and, as he opens the door, the notes of some funk song greet him with Dennis dancing in the kitchen while he’s preparing something for dinner, and Robby can’t help but smile, and every dark thought flies out the window (especially when Dennis stops singing at the top of his lungs and notices Robby in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe watching him with a smile, and then Dennis smiles one of those radiant smiles that makes Michael’s stomach twist despite all those months of living together, and he goes to greet him with a kiss and a hug and showers him with questions)
And the nights aren’t so sleepless anymore. Not when Dennis collapses on top of him, snoring softly, and Michael feels Dennis’s weight on his chest and, for some reason, feels safe, protected.
Robby finds himself smiling, at peace.
Things don’t always go smoothly; sometimes bouts of depression are unavoidable. But he no longer has to face them alone, because Dennis refuses to leave him by himself.
And Robby, from the bottom of his heart, is grateful for every moment he spends with Dennis.
