He slowly awoke to the distant sound of rain pattering outside. Silvery moonlight shone through a window in the far side of the room, allowing him to make out the silhouettes of the objects in it. His surroundings were dark, but he could still make out a warm presence surrounding him, an arm holding him in place. His head moved up and down rhythmically as the presence inhaled and exhaled at a slow, steady pace.

He became aware of a loud thumping in his left ear, the familiar scent of cologne filling his head.

He picked his head up slightly to look at the man, and sure enough, he found two brown eyes gazing right back at him, full of some profound emotion. They seemed full of contentment, tranquility...and dare he say, love.

Romano was met with a soft kiss as the other man leaned slightly to meet his raised head, the arm around him tightening its grip slightly.

The other man gently nudged him, pushing him so that he was lying on his flat back. He then came up on top of him, straddling his hips. He stripped himself of his T-shirt in a leisurely manner, tossing it off to one side, and Robert drank in the sight of his bare chest and sleek abdomen, feeling the hard muscles there with his fingertips.

The man then brought his head back down to Robert's, kissing him passionately as his hands slid under his own shirt, his bare skin tingling from his touch.

He moved his mouth down against his neck as the man beneath him moved his hands to his bare back, tracing down his spine, across the back of his rib cage, just about everywhere with his index finger, willing him on.

Robert gasped as his mouth hit some particularly sensitive spots, using a hand to press the man's head down, his lips pressing harder against his neck.

"Robert..." the man said softly, moving lower, pulling at the neck of his shirt, exposing the skin of his upper chest, his hot, wet lips neglecting no part of it. Romano moaned softly, his nails gently grazing the man's back, up and down as he continued with rapid succession.

"Robert..." he repeated once more, his voice slightly louder than before. Robert shut his eyes tight as the man reached the dip at the base of his neck, tracing it with the tip of his tongue.

"Robert!"

He awoke a second time, not as pleasantly I might add. He squinted against the light illuminating wherever he was, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes as they stung.

He realized the man who'd been kissing him in his dreams was now crouched down right in front of him, surveying him with tired eyes.

"Peter..." he grumbled softly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he remembered where he was.

As it turned out, Romano's train wreck of a patient hadn't been the only one. It wasn't until the two had scrubbed out completely and Romano had walked to the surgical desk to sign off on any final orders in need of his attention that yet another critical case came his way. Paramedics had found her deep under the smoldering rubble, earning her a free ticket to emergency surgery, and Romano himself another 5 hours stuck at County.

He felt a mix of relief and major disappointment as he found out Dale Edson had to be the one scrubbing in on this one, as Peter was called off for some consult in the ER, unable to attend to the new case fast enough.

Even when the patient's injuries became more manageable, allowing him to work at a more reasonable pace, Edson's constant pissing and whining about how inconvenient their accident was for him that particular night, as he'd currently been missing out on whoring himself out to some intern from pediatrics made it so he could hardly hear himself think. His heated daydreaming about Peter had been put on hold, much to his frustration.

It'd been around midnight when he'd stumbled through the doors of the surgical lounge, sprawling out in one of its overstuffed chairs after he'd doctored up some coffee for himself. And by the looks of it, he'd never managed to finish that coffee.

"I thought you'd left." Romano said as his eyes adjusted more to the light, scanning the lounge for any unwelcome audience. It was empty, save for the two of them.

"I was waiting for you to finish your shift. Thought you could use a ride home after a run like that." Peter explained, a hand on Robert's knee, warmth soaking through his thin scrubs.

"What time is it? Feels like I was out forever." He questioned, his hand moving to cover Peter's on his knee. His head felt heavy, his eyes like they were going to roll out of his sockets. Time felt like a thick jelly.

"Almost 1 a.m.," Benton replied, standing up, turning his hand over so he could take Romano's. He helped pull him from of his spot, pressing a kiss to the top of his bald head. "C'mon, lets get the hell out of here."
H
His eyes cast out the window as he watched his city pass him by from inside the car, his eyelids drooping as his body threatened to loose its everlasting battle with the Sandman.

Not wanting Peter to have to carry him out of his car like a drunk, he tried to spark up conversation, with every intention of keeping himself awake.

"Weren't you supposed to take that little munchkin of yours with you?" He asked the man in the driver's seat, eyes flicking back to the booster seat that'd been occupied with Reese's tiny presence around half a day ago. It felt like half a year.

"Reese is spending tonight with his mother and her husband." He said shortly, his tone sharp, his eyes fixed at the road in front of him.

"Oh." Romano was almost sorry he'd asked. He'd never assumed his relationship with his ex-wife had ever been all that good, and never pressed him on the matter, even before they shacked up. Things had more than likely gotten worse. She already snagged herself a husband?
'No wonder he agreed to start pitching for the same team...'

Noticing he'd gotten all quiet again after his almost petulant reply, Peter took one hand off the wheel, grabbing Romano's left hand, giving it a squeeze.

"You get anything interesting after I went to the ER?" Peter asked, changing the subject.

Romano scoffed, his gaze fixed towards the man's face, colored in light from the street lamps towering above them. "I wish. After the first 45 minutes or so it was all just routine stuff. No race against time or whatnot. Barely even broke a sweat." He rambled, absentmindedly stroking Peter's knuckles with his thumb.

"The worst part was Edson. Little weasel couldn't seem to shut up!" He earned a small chuckle from the man. "And you owe me one, you know! After about 10 minutes of it I was ready to slash open my wrists with a scalpel just to get away!"

"You poor thing." Peter teased.

"Up yours, fuckhead!"

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that..." he retorted, his voice low as he turned briefly to shoot him a sly smile. Romano looked down at their hands, shifting in his seat at his implication. He felt a strange sense of joy at making the smile return to the man's face so quickly, pulling him away from thinking about his problems. He'd never noticed before just how lovely Peter looked when he smiled.

And not the false kind he'd often give him just because he was his boss, laughing at his stupid jokes and wise cracks, or agreeing with him on a treatment plan or some crap like that. It was the genuine smiles that reached his eyes that would make Romano melt a little inside, like his heart was made of instant mashed potatoes.

Frankly, he'd be happy if the only other responsibility he ever had again was to make that man smile.

They got to Robert's house within the next 5 minutes, just as the bald man was beginning to lose his battle with sleep once again.

"Dr. Romano," Peter began, pulling his keys from the ignition as soon as he'd parked. "May I walk you to your door?"

"What is this, the 60's?!" Romano snarked, undoing his seatbelt. Peter shrugged, giving him that wonderful smile of his once more.

"You never know who might be lurking." The other man replied, climbing out of the car. Romano followed suit, taking his place next to Peter on the sidewalk, who took his hand, holding it in his for the comically short duration of their walk to his doorstep.

They turned to each other, unsure of how to proceed.

"So...I guess this is it then. I'll see you around tomorrow?" Peter said, looking into Robert's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm on at noon, thank God."

"Me as well," he replied, shifting on his feet. He sighed then, casting a glance toward his parked car. "Ah, man. It's late. I'd better get going...and you'd better get that ass straight to bed, Dr. Romano!" he finished, caressing the side of the shorter man's face, who was smiling warmly up at him.

Benton leaned down then, pulling Romano into a goodnight kiss that started off sweet and gentle, and ended with the dog-tired surgeon pressed against his door, their tongues striving for dominance over the other. One of Peter's hands blocked Romano's head from making contact with the hard wooden door behind him, while the other crept under his shirt and sweatshirt, playing with the auburn down that dusted his chest.

The kiss broke as they stopped for air, the only perceptible noise being the soft sound of their lips as they pulled back ever so slightly, their labored breathing, and the low, electric hum of a nearby street light. Robert held Peter's head in both hands, gazing into his eyes, stroking both of his cheeks with his thumbs. He felt a certain sense of disappointment at the realization that they'd be alone for the night, that he'd go without feeling his arms around him as he fell asleep and wake up to the sound of silence, rather than the man's heartbeat in his ear, or his deep, velvety voice, husky from a night's rest.

He understood at that point that he didn't just enjoy Peter's presence. He craved it, couldn't stand to be without it. The very thought of his absence in that moment became almost too much to bear. So, naturally, he fought against it.

Gently, he brought the man's head in, resting their foreheads together.

"Stay with me..." he whispered, his voice getting so quiet it was barely within hearing range. A rarity for him. "I don't want to be without you tonight..."

"Robert, I..." Benton started on another one of his excuses as to why he just couldn't spend the night with his boss, but trailed off as soon as he'd pulled back slightly, catching the look in his eyes. His breath hitched in his throat as he looked into those dark brown pools, his very expression alone imploring him to stay with an intoxicating intensity that he just couldn't find the strength to say no to.

Against his better judgement, which seemed to be the very foundation of their relationship, he remained rooted to his spot, gazing at the man who seemed to hold is entire heart in a vice-like grip in those strong yet delicate surgeon's hands of his. He pulled the man into his arms, holding him tight, nuzzling the top of his bald head.

"Okay, I won't leave you," he murmured against him, the heat coming off him making him realize just how cold out it was that night.

He let the man go after a few more seconds so he could unlock the front door. And when he did, he was attacked by a blurry mass of gray fur, almost knocking him right over as he stepped in.

"Jesus Christ!" Benton yowled, clutching his chest, nearly stumbling over and falling off the doorstep at the sudden movement from the dark doorway. Gretel, Robert's vaguely horse-sized Bouvier thought nothing of the stranger who she'd nearly given a heart attack to, bombarding the short man with kisses.

"Thanks for the heads up, Robbie!"he yelled as his heart rate came back within its normal range. Romano merely laughed at his terrified expression, then grimaced terribly when Gretel's big wet tongue hit his open mouth.

"Alright. Alright! Down girl!" he commanded her, flicking on the light. "Don't be scared Peter, she doesn't bite much. Less that you do, in fact!" he snarked as the taller surgeon stepped inside, who was now taking in the appearance of his lavish home. It was large, yet sparsely decorated. Perhaps dating the Chief of Staff and Head of Surgery had its perks.

"You never told me you had a dog." Peter wondered aloud as Romano ambled toward his kitchen, both Gretel and himself following him like ducklings through a park.

"You never asked!" he whined as they reached their destination. "Poor girl had to be left with the dog sitter across the street while somebody took me home for themselves!" he explained, feigning annoyance to the other surgeon.

Romano opened up a cabinet over his kitchen counter, standing on his tip-toes in an attempt to snatch the can of dog food that sat just out of his reach. Peter watched him with cruel amusement as he continued to struggle, and even tried jumping up to get it once or twice, to no avail.

Finally, though, he stepped next to the struggling surgeon, reaching a hand up and extracting the can with ease, holding it out in one hand for him to take, which he did.

"Thanks." Robert said briskly, cheeks burning with embarrassment. He peeled back its covering, dumping its contents into a metal bowl labeled 'MY BITCH'. The bear-like creature ate as if she'd never had a full meal in her life.

"What would you ever do without me?" Benton said sweetly, adoring the grumpy look on the man's face. He pinched his cheek for the umpteenth time, attempting without fail to get him smiling again.

"It's getting pretty late," Romano said, sparing a glance at the clock on his wall. It read 2:02 a.m.. He recognized with surprise just how long it'd taken them to change into their street clothes and drive home. "Most hookers even quit working at this ungodly hour. What do you say we...?"

"Lead the way." Peter retorted, answering his unfinished question.

And so, our two beloved surgical heroes clambered up the stairs of Romano's spacious Chicago home, their legs threatening to give out from their excessive fatigue.

The next time they spoke, they were in the bathroom.

"I've got a spare tooth brush. Second drawer on your left," Romano informed the taller man, holding his own covered in toothpaste in one hand. Peter had other ideas.

As soon as Robert had let his guard down, he snatched the brush out of his hand, shoving it into his own mouth.

"Eye for an eye, Dr. Romano." He purred, words uttered around Robert's toothbrush as the shorter man gaped at him. He was too tired to fight Peter on the matter, and hopped on top of his bathroom counter, watching the man with narrow eyes as he brushed up.

And before the strange bald surgeon knew it, he was in his king sized bed with Peter Fucking Benton of all people, curled up against his side, his head down by his chest. It was almost exactly as he'd dreamed earlier that night, with the exception of the large Bouvier that now sandwiched him in between herself and the burly surgeon.

"I always thought you were kidding about having a mirror on your ceiling!" Peter wondered aloud, gazing up at his reflection.

"Have you ever known me to kid, Dr. Benton?" Romano questioned, gazing up at Peter's reflection, a look of mischief crossing his face.

"You hoping to try it out with me sometime?" He asked provocatively, looking back down at Peter, a hand stroking his now bare chest. They'd both changed out of their clothes from the day, leaving them both in nothing but boxers in that large bed of his.

"Not at this wretched hour! Why don't you pipe down and get some sleep, you horny little bastard!" The man whined, earning a glare from Romano.

"What the hell did I say about calling me little? I swear to fucking God Peter-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. All sorts of demeaning labor and scutwork intermingled with days where I'm assigned nothing but taking care of old charts until rapture. I know the drill by now, Robbie," Peter teased, squeezing the pissy surgeon in both of his arms, roughly kissing the side of his fat head as he squirmed slightly, despite making no real effort to push him away. "You could never be that mean to me, Robbie!"

"I'll fucking destroy you, Petey! Mark my words!" he griped, trying to nudge the man's head away with one hand. Benton only doubled his efforts, moving his hands down to his rib cage, digging his fingers into him, tickling the whiney surgeon, reducing him to giggles. He clambered on top of Romano, who was trying to struggle out of his grip, straddling his hips as he continued.

"Cut it the hell out! Damn it, Peter, I swear to fucking God you're fired!" he howled in between his laughter, trying to shove him off to no avail. "Gretel, help me! Bite the bastard, or something!" he yelled, patting the animal's large, scruffy head. Gretel shot him one unsympathetic look, then put her head back down in an attempt to sleep through whatever bullshit the two men were up to at such an early hour.

Eventually, Peter's brutal assault had reduced as exhaustion set in amidst the pair. The man sat, still straddling Robert as his efforts had turned to him absentmindedly stroking his sides, sleep threatening to overcome him. He let out a soft sigh, calmed by his touch after a hard day's work.

"I love you, Peter..." the bald man reminded him, gazing up at him, his expression one of tiredness and vulnerability.

"I know." Benton replied, climbing off him to lie facing him, before pulling him into his arms, bringing him close, looking into those tired eyes.

"I love you, too."