Fics like symbiotic

“Still stressed?” He asks, and Robby thinks there’s a flash of something in his eyes that he can’t quite place. Robby sighs, but not heavily. “Of course.” Unfolding his arms, Whitaker reaches over and lightly touches Robby’s thigh—just above the knee. With a smirk, he says, “well, nothing that a good book won’t fix, right?” The touch is burning. Scalding, even. And there’s an inflection in Whitaker’s voice that has alarm bells ringing in his ears. As Whitaker pulls his hand away, his fingers curl slightly, brushing more against his thigh before retracting completely. It can be considered innocent, along with the words. He holds a gaze with Robby, the smirk still present, taunting. The kid is playing a dangerous game. And he knows it. After a grueling shift, a doctor and a med student deal with stress in a mutually beneficial way.

Fics like symbiotic

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