— I’ve seen his place. You’re in for a sweet setup.
He wants to tell Whitaker the truth. He wants to plead so the boy burn the place down, because every single inch of that flat bears so many memories, it should be illegal for anyone to see.
He wants to warn Dennis to not let himself be fucked on that dinning table, and those kitchen counters, and the floor in every single room. But then he thinks that Whitaker is not like him, he would be carefully laid down on the bed with a pair of new sheets wrapping him in warmth. And Robby would make love to him, not whatever the hell he was doing with Frank.
— You are aware that Robby asked me to babysit the flat, not to live with him, right? — Whitaker asks suddenly as if reading Langdon‘s mind. Though it wasn’t all that hard for those with eyes to see.
— Yes, yes, of course. But I don’t care, really, I have no business getting into my colleagues’ personal life, — he rushes out, scared to sound rude or intrusive.
Even though he cares. As much as he wants to hide it, he cares about personal life of these people who stayed, when he left. Who kept working with Robby, while he didn’t. He needs to know who filled in his place, who became a new toy to drag around during the shift and leave the bruises on their hips after work hours. He knows what they had — it wasn’t special. Amusing at best. Something that should have been easy to forget and move on and still he remembers each time he was in that damn flat and the smell of new sheets when they laid in bed and laughed because “I’m too old for this, Frank” “I want you to have me in every corner of your place” “Why?” “So you’d think of me” “I will regardless”.
— We were doing fine without you, — Dennis says but without any bite to it, — He wasn’t, no matter what he tells you. But I also want nothing to do with my colleagues’ personal life, so leave me out of it, please.
— So, — Frank bites his lip in hesitation, because he really, really shouldn’t ask this. It’s inappropriate and also he’s not jealous, so why’d he care? — you and Robby, uhm, you’re not…
— We’re not what? — the boy looks with an ill-concealed irritation on his face.
— Seeing each other?
— Are you crazy? — and now there’s also a shade of horror and disgust, — He’s my boss, and he’s old, and he’s… Robby.
Frank laughs at the way Dennis says the last word, but he thinks he knows what the boy is trying to say. And maybe that’s exactly the reason why he can’t forget any of it. Because Robby is Robby. And Langdon liked every bit of it.
— You are crazy, — Whitaker adds after studying a giddy smile on man’s lips and then gets out of the room.
