23~ nyc~ just a fanfic writer and lover~ ao3: comingaback~ pre-med 🩺
dm's closed. old men make me feral. / hucklerobby, hucklerabbot, hucklerabbot, rabbot, popewhit https://archiveofourown.org/works/78796891/chapters/206647411
BODY HEAT - HUCKLEROBBY FF - BY COMINGABACK - INFECTION AU - 153,050 WRDS
CHAPTERS 1 - 15 LIVE ON AO3!!!
CONTENT WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, GORE, MEDICAL TRAUMA REALISM, BODY HORROR, INFECTIOUS DISEASE, DEATH, MORAL INJURY, PSYCHOLOGICAL DISTRESS, REALISTIC SURVIVAL SITUATIONS, WINTER WEATHER HAZARDS, DISCUSSIONS OF FAITH, MENTIONS OF HOMOPHOBIA, SUICIDAL IDEATION, AND MATURE ADULT THEMES THROUGHOUT.
SLOW BURN, MUTUAL PINING, HURT/COMFORT, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCE, FOUND FAMILY, LONG FIC.
Life doesn’t stop when everything changes. It begins with overcrowded waiting rooms, failing systems, unanswered questions, and people insisting everything is under control.
When a violent infectious outbreak shatters PTMC and the U.S. Dr. Michael Robinavitch and Dennis Whitaker are forced into an environment that is changing faster than anyone can understand. As hospitals fail, cities unravel, and winter closes in, survival becomes less about saving lives and more about enduring the impossible choices left behind because of it.
But in loss, endurance, and the fragile hope that keeps them moving long after reason tells them to stop.
The bedroom was quiet except for the steady hum of the air conditioner somewhere in the corner. A dark wooden headboard behind a body of pale gray sheets and twisted blankets, the bed looking comfortably occupied rather than made.
Dennis lay stretched across the mattress on his stomach with his face buried in a pillow. At some point the gray FFA hoodie he’d been wearing gathered halfway over his head, the fabric gathering awkwardly around his shoulders and neck while his arms remained inside the sleeves. The hoodie swallowed part of his blonde curls where it pressed against the pillow, leaving only the bridge of his sunburnt nose and a cheek visible.
It left his back exposed, the waistband of his blue plaid pajama shorts lay slightly lower. The fabric wrinkled from where he’d apparently collapsed onto the bed without much thought, less intentionally comfortable and more like he’d simply run out of energy halfway through getting settled.
Jack sat beside him near the center of the mattress, bent beneath him. He had changed out of his scrubs sometime after getting home, trading them for a dark zip up hoodie worn open over a black t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. The sleeves had been shoved up his forearms, pale blue nitrile gloves stretched over his hands as he worked the arnica gel into the muscles of Dennis’s lower back. Its scent lingered in the air alongside clean laundry and faint coolness coming from a/c.
“Too hard?” Jack asked quietly.
“No, it’s good.” His answer came muffled through the pillow.
Jack hummed once and continued without breaking rhythm. His hands moved with the same precision he brought to procedures, thumbs working through the layers of muscle. Dennis had pulled something heavy out at the farm over the weekend. None of them were surprised when he’d done it. They were more surprised when he’d admitted it hurt afterward. Even then, it had only happened because Jack had caught him wincing while reaching for something on a high shelf in the kitchen.
Across the room, Robby stood near the window watching the last go the evening sunlight fade. He’d changed into a dark blue t-shirt and gray sweats, looking less like an attending physician and more like someone who had finally been allowed to relax in his home for a few hours. A hand rested loosely in his pocket while the other balanced a labatt blue tall boy against his thigh.
“You should’ve told one of us you were moving that tractor attachment by yourself.”
“It was just a bushing. I’ve done it a hundred times.” He shifted beneath Jack’s hands.
“It’s a two person job.” Robby added.
Jack's gloved fingers found a particularly sore area, causing him to wince immediately, his shoulders tightening with a hiss.
“My dad always said if you can’t fix something alone, you don’t deserve to own it.” Dennis said.
That finally pulled the older away from the window. He turned toward the bed with a softened expression despite the faint look of disbelief that crossed his face.
“Your father is a stubborn man,” he said as he crossed the room. “Who raised a stubborn son.”
The usual bite behind the observation wasn’t there. The mattress gave beneath Robby’s weight when he sat down on the opposite side of the bed. Dennis felt the movement through the springs before he felt the light touch of his hand settling around his ankle.
“The point isn’t about deserving,” he continued. “It’s about not being an idiot.”
Dennis shifted, turning his head on the pillow.
“We want you safe.” Jack’s hands moved in their slow work across the younger’s lower back, Robby’s thumb traced absent circles against the bone of his ankle. The air conditioner kicked on harder overhead as the last traces of sunset disappeared completely.
Eventually he shifted enough to turn his head against the pillow, his head peeking out from beneath the tangled hoodie fabric.
“I know.”
Jack’s hands stilled for a moment on the small of his back. The quiet room deepened, the only sound was the soft exhale of the a/c. He leaned forward, his shadow falling across Dennis’s form. Without a word, he pressed his lips to the warm, taut skin where his neck met his shoulder. Jack pulled back just as quickly and resumed working the gel into his back as though nothing had happened. If anything, his movements became more focused afterward.
“You’ll be sore tomorrow,” he said. “But it should be better than today.”
Dennis buried his face in the pillow, letting the soft fabric ground him. It was Robby that broke the quietness, his voice a low, dry comment from the edge of the bed.
“He’s right, you know. About the soreness. You’ll need to take it easy on shift tomorrow.”
He nodded, the cotton brushing against his cheek as a faint laugh escaped him at the idea of taking it easy. They all knew how unlikely that was at PTMC.
The sound earned a small smile from the older men as they cared for him. Dennis huffed another quiet laugh and shifted enough to free one arm from near his head. Without looking, he reached backward until his fingers brushed against Robby’s knee, finding the beer can resting loosely in his hand.
He didn’t protest, simply lifted it enough for him to steal a quick sip before taking it back. The taste was bitter and cold. He made a face against the pillow that neither of them could see, which only earned an amused snort from Jack.
Their conversation wandered after that, drifting from pulled and sore muscles to plans for the coming weekend if all three of them managed to get the same day off. The room settled around them again, warm and familiar with a quiet that only came from being in each other’s company.
-
thank you for indulging in some soft hucklerabbot fluff 🫶🏻.
The bedroom was quiet except for the steady hum of the air conditioner somewhere in the corner. A dark wooden headboard behind a body of pale gray sheets and twisted blankets, the bed looking comfortably occupied rather than made.
Dennis lay stretched across the mattress on his stomach with his face buried in a pillow. At some point the gray FFA hoodie he’d been wearing gathered halfway over his head, the fabric gathering awkwardly around his shoulders and neck while his arms remained inside the sleeves. The hoodie swallowed part of his blonde curls where it pressed against the pillow, leaving only the bridge of his sunburnt nose and a cheek visible.
It left his back exposed, the waistband of his blue plaid pajama shorts lay slightly lower. The fabric wrinkled from where he’d apparently collapsed onto the bed without much thought, less intentionally comfortable and more like he’d simply run out of energy halfway through getting settled.
Jack sat beside him near the center of the mattress, bent beneath him. He had changed out of his scrubs sometime after getting home, trading them for a dark zip up hoodie worn open over a black t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. The sleeves had been shoved up his forearms, pale blue nitrile gloves stretched over his hands as he worked the arnica gel into the muscles of Dennis’s lower back. Its scent lingered in the air alongside clean laundry and faint coolness coming from a/c.
“Too hard?” Jack asked quietly.
“No, it’s good.” His answer came muffled through the pillow.
Jack hummed once and continued without breaking rhythm. His hands moved with the same precision he brought to procedures, thumbs working through the layers of muscle. Dennis had pulled something heavy out at the farm over the weekend. None of them were surprised when he’d done it. They were more surprised when he’d admitted it hurt afterward. Even then, it had only happened because Jack had caught him wincing while reaching for something on a high shelf in the kitchen.
Across the room, Robby stood near the window watching the last go the evening sunlight fade. He’d changed into a dark blue t-shirt and gray sweats, looking less like an attending physician and more like someone who had finally been allowed to relax in his home for a few hours. A hand rested loosely in his pocket while the other balanced a labatt blue tall boy against his thigh.
“You should’ve told one of us you were moving that tractor attachment by yourself.”
“It was just a bushing. I’ve done it a hundred times.” He shifted beneath Jack’s hands.
“It’s a two person job.” Robby added.
Jack's gloved fingers found a particularly sore area, causing him to wince immediately, his shoulders tightening with a hiss.
“My dad always said if you can’t fix something alone, you don’t deserve to own it.” Dennis said.
That finally pulled the older away from the window. He turned toward the bed with a softened expression despite the faint look of disbelief that crossed his face.
“Your father is a stubborn man,” he said as he crossed the room. “Who raised a stubborn son.”
The usual bite behind the observation wasn’t there. The mattress gave beneath Robby’s weight when he sat down on the opposite side of the bed. Dennis felt the movement through the springs before he felt the light touch of his hand settling around his ankle.
“The point isn’t about deserving,” he continued. “It’s about not being an idiot.”
Dennis shifted, turning his head on the pillow.
“We want you safe.” Jack’s hands moved in their slow work across the younger’s lower back, Robby’s thumb traced absent circles against the bone of his ankle. The air conditioner kicked on harder overhead as the last traces of sunset disappeared completely.
Eventually he shifted enough to turn his head against the pillow, his head peeking out from beneath the tangled hoodie fabric.
“I know.”
Jack’s hands stilled for a moment on the small of his back. The quiet room deepened, the only sound was the soft exhale of the a/c. He leaned forward, his shadow falling across Dennis’s form. Without a word, he pressed his lips to the warm, taut skin where his neck met his shoulder. Jack pulled back just as quickly and resumed working the gel into his back as though nothing had happened. If anything, his movements became more focused afterward.
“You’ll be sore tomorrow,” he said. “But it should be better than today.”
Dennis buried his face in the pillow, letting the soft fabric ground him. It was Robby that broke the quietness, his voice a low, dry comment from the edge of the bed.
“He’s right, you know. About the soreness. You’ll need to take it easy on shift tomorrow.”
He nodded, the cotton brushing against his cheek as a faint laugh escaped him at the idea of taking it easy. They all knew how unlikely that was at PTMC.
The sound earned a small smile from the older men as they cared for him. Dennis huffed another quiet laugh and shifted enough to free one arm from near his head. Without looking, he reached backward until his fingers brushed against Robby’s knee, finding the beer can resting loosely in his hand.
He didn’t protest, simply lifted it enough for him to steal a quick sip before taking it back. The taste was bitter and cold. He made a face against the pillow that neither of them could see, which only earned an amused snort from Jack.
Their conversation wandered after that, drifting from pulled and sore muscles to plans for the coming weekend if all three of them managed to get the same day off. The room settled around them again, warm and familiar with a quiet that only came from being in each other’s company.
-
thank you for indulging in some soft hucklerabbot fluff 🫶🏻.
Robby watches a troye sivan music video and becomes fixated. He doesn’t know why he’s become so enamoured by the singer, and its probably concerning, maybe he should get therapy.
He only realises why hes attached to the artist when he sees dennis dressed for a night out instead of his usual scrubs
Thank you @comingaback for including me and thinking of me 🥹🥹
Some of my fav tropes + thoughts
Hmmmmm I love a good yummy slowburn!! The tension, the chemistry, the shared experiences that bring them closer and closer together, hellooooo? // fake dating is practically like crack cocaine to me, once I start a fic with it I won’t know how to stop myself! Bc of course you’re gonna fall in love with your hot friend who you go on “fake dates” with duh! // typically I prefer an enemies to lovers trope, I just love the pay off and realization of “I can’t stop thinking about this person and how annoying they are and how much I want to kiss them, wait what?” // I mean who doesn’t love some close proximity?? Give me a shared bed fic on the double bartender! // hurt comfort hurt comfort hurt comfort hurt comfort hurt comfort // ngl I love a good fantasy setting, esp if we’re including dragons and magic! Sign me tf upppp! // domestic bliss all day every day, I wanna see them be cute at the grocery store, make dinner together and cuddle on the couch // I think every fic has gotta have appropriate amounts of fluff AND smut, don’t hate the player // I mean canon can be important but I love seeing what writers come up with in a fix-it!! The creativity is what I crave! // reincarnation pls, I cannot handle major character deaths TT, I am a sensitive soul // multi chapter is preferred, I will eat down a novel bitch // even tho I’m not that big on kids myself, there’s just something about a pairing I adore caring for a child/baby! And bonus points if the child being taken care of is an age regressed version of the other person in the pairing // ARRANGED MARRIAGE GOOD SHIT // I’m tired of reading about people meeting in high school, gimme that middle aged loveeee // bitch make them time travel and isolated, go through trials and tribulations together, suffer and come out stronger together (and maybe trauma bonded too) // oooooh yeah neighbors is awesome, I don’t always love the awkwardness that comes with roommate tropes at times // I meannnn why can’t sci-fi and magic exist together??? // I haven’t read a body swap in a looooooong time, but that shit kinda eats doesn’t it? Walk a mile in these louboutins // ahhhhh I’ll take the angst and the check please! Thank you! // typically prefer just mundane settings but when an apocalyptic fic is done right *cough* Body Heat by comingaback *cough* it HITS // And I’ll take the happy ending for 500 Alex :)
The original list!!
slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high-school romance or middle-age romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbent // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane // happy ending or unhappy ending
Super cute and super fun! Do it if you’re feeling whimsical or not lol
do you think trinity and dennis take pole dancing classes together? casually, since it’s actually a very good full-body workout. i feel like they’re both naturals at it, especially with trinity’s gymnastics background and dennis’s farm boy upper body and core strength.
During awards season, trinity organises a pitt awards for fun. The most prestigious award is the white boy of the year. Dennis is the only white boy who has one it (Jesse declined participation)
a casual conversation in the whitsantos household.
-
the refrigerator door stood open, spilling pale light across the dimmed kitchen space. dennis leaned forward, spoon already halfway to his mouth as trinity glanced at the yogurt container in his hand and immediately giving a questionable expression.
“dennis, that yogurt expired two weeks ago,” she said, slightly disgusted by what she was witnessing.
he looked down at the date, then back at her. “it smells fine.”
“that’s not how expiration dates work.”
dennis took another bite anyway. she stared at him for a long moment before dragging a hand down her face as he continues.
The pitt has a pot luck for whatever reason and Trinity brings a whole tray of lumpia that everyone devours because of course they do. Even Princess and Perlah compliment her and Dana says she better bring it everytime they have a pot luck so she does. It's always the first thing to go, everyone fighting over them.
One pot luck she doesn't bring them and everyone is sad and asking why and she says she was too busy or something. After the 10th person asks she gets fed up and confesses she doesn't make the lumpia Dennis learned the recipe from her Lola and he makes it every time but he was sick so he couldn't make it this time.
do you think when dennis and his brothers were younger, they’d get inside old/spare tractor tires (maybe the drums from old washers and dryers as well) and roll down large hills in them… that was a core memory for me growing up as a kid in bumfuck nowhere, having to entertain yourselves during the summer. i think dennis definitely has a decent amount of concussions under his belt. pfff you think they wore any kind of helmet or protective measures no. they’d just wanted to see who could go the farthest.
