Hi ^^ I love your work and especially the ones with Dennis. Do you think you could write for him again? Maybe something a little angsty/hurt-comfort with fluff at the end? You would make me the happiest <3
Sorry I took sooo long to come back and get to requests haha let me make it up for you guys <3
It's extra hard today.
The rolled sleeves of his shirt are damp where the dishwater has soaked into them and the feeling is starting to become unbearable but he can't walk away from what he's started.
He's not quite sure what set him off scrubbing everything down as feverishly as he had for the last few hours but his arms are tired and his lungs are weak from the scouring chemicals he had just rinsed down the drain.
Dennis will refuse to admit when he's overwhelmed and these days it seems he's always overwhelmed. His sole existence is to bear the load when Kevin's overwhelmed - there's no space for his own chaos.
He hates this. Hours spent in the kitchen and though he knows it's clean because he's the one who cleaned it, it still looks so dirty and god forbid you or one of the others got sick from something he missed. Dennis sighs and his back twinges with pain when his chest rises. He doesn't cry, but he wants to.
The door opens and he hears you shuffle out of your shoes in the entry way, something you do to accommodate his obsessive-compulsive disorder. "I'm home!" Your voice calls out. "Dennis? Patricia?" You're not sure who else is home with you until you round the corner and see Dennis standing in the kitchen. "Hey!" Your smile quickly drops when you notice that something's not right. This isn't his usual daily clean.
"Oh Dennis... Are you okay?" You ask, walking towards him and reaching out to touch his forearm. "Please don't touch me-" He jerks back from you, brow furrowed with frustration. "I... I'm sorry." Dennis apologizes, his expression immediately falling when he notices the hurt in your eyes. "It's just.."
You shake your head. "No, it's okay. I get it." You had just walked in the door, touching him now without washing your hands first was too much for him. The faucet switches on with a clunk and you begin washing your hands, a gratuitous demonstration more for him than anything else. "I didn't mean anything by it." You feel his fingertips brush against your elbow.
"I know you didn't." It's obvious that he's struggling today. You dry your hands thoroughly before turning to touch his cheek. A single shared touch and a glance into his tired eyes says all that needs to be said.
It takes some convincing but you manage to get him out of the kitchen and into the shower where he seems to have calmed down once he re-emerges into the bedroom. You're reclined against one of the pillows, scrolling through your phone and he takes a moment to gaze at you. Dennis climbs into bed beside you, pulling the duvet up over the both of you and wrapping an arm around your torso.
"Feeling better?" You ask. "Mmhm." He nods, exhaustion evident in his voice. "Much better."
i wouldn’t say im “”back”” because life is so shitty and busy lately and I lost all the chapters to summer skeletons I was rewriting so it really just killed my drive to work on it... but I kinda wanna get back into it now, it’d be a nice break from other projects
i sent the bee movie script over imessage to my friend who lives overseas but it didn’t send as an imessage and sent as 315 text messages instead and i’m gonna be charged for international texting for all of them
