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“You’re jealous.” Jack drawled, leaning back against the door.
Robby contemplated denying it—the old game they’d been playing. Jack would get him riled up, he’d act petulant and they’d fuck it out. At least the sex had always been good. But he couldn’t stop thinking of the way Al-Hashimi and Jack exchanged glances, the charming smirks and quiet understandings between two battered souls who’d survived the same hell and back, or how Dr. Mohan smiled at Jack, small and intimate, adoration spilling over from her gentle gaze.
Robby looked back at his own haggard reflection in the mirror, water dripping down his chin, bags under his eyes. Suddenly he’s bone-tired.
After all, what were they really? Neither he nor Jack had bothered to label this thing between them over the years. Quick handjobs in the staff shower, blowjobs when the tension was too high, and sometimes he let Jack take him from behind on whatever flat surfaces that didn’t chafe too much. No kissing involved, and neither talked about their (his) other flings.
Kids these days would probably call it a situationship, and not a particularly healthy one at that. Robby let out a humorless laugh, a hollow sound that startled Jack into straightening up.
“Yes, I think I am.”
He washed his hands again, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“You should go have that drink with Dr. Al-Hashimi, I am sure you two will have a lot to talk about while I’m gone.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Wha…that’s not—Michael—”
“Back to work, Dr. Abbot.”
Tone clipped, Robby pushed past Jack and threw himself back into the chaos of the ER.
The restroom door almost swung into Jack’s face in his hurry to catch Robby. A gurney wheeled by, and the next second the man was nowhere to be seen. Jack caught Donnie’s suspicious glance in his direction.
Fantastic. He just handed over fresh intel for some pool that must be going on somewhere.
“Trouble in paradise?”
Dana watched him from above the rims of her glasses, nonchalant.
“You’re not the first puppy he kicked today by the way, if that makes you feel better.” She nodded towards Langdon, who stood in the hallway in front of Trauma 2, looking lost and no small amount of hurt.
Jack winced.
“I think I might’ve fucked up.”
“With what?”
“Robby.”
Dana gave him an unimpressed look.
Jack raked a hand through his curls. “…us.”
“Huh, didn’t know you were capable of that.” Dana was alert and fully latched onto him now. Jack would prefer to still be under active fire.
“You gonna fix it?”
Although it was structured as a question, the if you don’t and I see Robby so much as turn the corner of his mouth down one degree next shift I’m going to tear you a new one was loud and clear.
“Yeah, yeah, just…need to figure something out by myself first.” Jack scrubbed a hand over his face.
It was already a long day, and now it was getting longer. Hopefully he would have sometime to think and catch his man.
Jack didn’t get a chance to catch Robby, and it was driving him up the wall. He knew Robby was THE master of avoidance, but he’d never had firsthand experience of that particular forte. Whenever he tried to force eye contact, Robby would duck and suddenly become very invested in whatever conversation the nearest resident was having. It made Jack clench his jaw and fight the urge to grab Robby and drag him into an empty room like an unruly child—but hey, at least Robby made Mel and Whitaker’s day.
When the good people of Pittsburgh finally decided that they had caused sufficient damage with firecrackers, Robby plastered on a polite smile, slipped past his team wishing him a restful sabbatical, grabbed his backpack from the locker room, and fled. He somehow managed to lose Jack in the crowd, who had been hovering around, studying him with that Major Abbot-on-the-mission expression, and the last thing Robby needed right now was to feel like a psychological specimen outside a shrink’s office.
He knew he had fucked up, badly this time, and Jack knew something was wrong. If only he’d kept his mouth shut and played along, maybe Jack would follow him home and they’d make out on the couch before he went on his way. And now thanks to his stupid heart that still stung at one night attending’s words, Jack would definitely follow him home, and the conversation that followed was not one he would look forward to.
Less than an hour passed after Robby dropped his backpack before he heard familiar knocks on his front door, heavy and deliberately measured.
Robby seriously considered not opening and leaving Jack fuming on the street, but ultimately dragged himself up—it’s probably not a good idea to have a built man screaming with military training lingering on one’s front porch with a menacing look on his face on such a special day.
“Brought beer. Can I come in?” Jack jingled the six-pack.
Robby blinked.
Jack didn’t look too upset after being ignored for eight hours straight; if anything, he looked almost nervous. And that’s not something you associated with Jack Abbot, always cool and sharp as a scalpel. Jack had put on a new shirt, gray curls damp from shower, shifting his weight slightly to his good leg.
Jack also never asked for entry into Robby’s home, not since their med school years.
Robby swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
“What, no dressing up as flight attendant? And here I thought I deserved a treat after you wounded my feelings.”
Shit. He didn’t mean to say that. Hopefully Jack would take it as a bad joke.
Based on Jack’s pinched expression, he didn’t.
“Yeah, about that. Can we talk inside?”
Robby wordlessly stepped aside. Jack brushed past, and Robby got a whiff of his shampoo, something musky and earthy, Jack.
Pressure immediately built behind Robby’s eyes, hot and choking.
He was going to miss this, after Jack put an end to whatever this was between them. Robby was sure he’d still be allowed to meet up for games and beers, and crash at Jack’s place after a long shift. Because Jack was the kindest person he knew.
“Fuck.” Robby cursed weakly, blinking hard. He was not going to have a mental breakdown on his own door mat before the talk even began.
Jack navigated Robby’s home with ease, put four beers in the fridge, twisted two open with his arm, retrieved the crutches from the hall closet and let go of the prosthetic by the couch.
He looked up and found Robby still standing in the hallway, looking away as if the sight of Jack on his couch burned.
“You plan to join me any time soon? Beer’s gonna go warm.”
Robby still didn’t move. Jack sighed dramatically.
“I know you have enough dignity left not to escape from your own house, Robinavitch. And don’t make me go over there, my leg’s killing me.”
Robby hesitated, shuffled forward and put a respectful distance between himself and Jack.
“Progress.” Jack muttered as he took a long drag of his beer. Robby sipped, silent.
“I see you’re determined to make me do all the work here.” Jack smiled a little and cleared his throat.
“I am sorry, Michael. I truly am.”
Robby picked at the beer label.
“I did find Al-Hashimi likable. What she went through was brutal—the human race at its worst. Anyone who witnessed that and kept going deserved my respect. But that’s it. Rapport with someone who’s technically gonna be my boss, because you, brilliant ass that you are, decided to ditch me for the open road for the next three months.” Jack continued before Robby had something witty to say. “And what happened with Dr. Mohan was… an accident. She found me in the room and offered to help. I accepted.”
“I could have helped.”
“I didn’t intend for anyone to find out in the first place.” At Robby’s disapproving side-eye, Jack relented.
“I know. Bad habit. I will call for you next time.”
“There better not be a next time.”
“I’ll try not to get shot at again.” Jack looked endeared. Robby looked away.
“You like her.”
The beer label nearly peeled off. Robby hated how he made the objective observation sound like a fifteen-year-old accusing her boyfriend of stepping out.
“I do. I’m not gonna lie.” Jack answered calmly after a beat. “Samira is a caring doctor and a beautiful woman.”
Robby stared resolutely at the sad-looking label. There it goes.
“I wouldn’t do anything about it. I don’t want to do anything about it.” Jack took a deep breath, steeling himself.
“Not when I’ve been carrying a torch for the big idiot sitting next to me for god knows how long.”
Robby’s breath hitched. He gripped the bottle tight, heart thundering in his ears, drowning out the stagnant silence in the room.
“Michael, say something.”
A hint of desperation crept into Jack’s voice.
“What do you want, Jack?”
Robby was stunned by how broken he sounded, the edge of hysteria threading through. “All these years, you’ve said nothing. What we had was enough, it’s…I’m sorry I said what I said, okay? Can we just pretend none of it happened?”
I don’t need it. I can live without it if you don’t mean it.
Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. He felt Jack shift closer, thigh pressed against his, warmth seeping through the linen, grounding.
“I want you. I want everything you’re willing to give and I’d still want more.” Jack hooked a knuckle under Robby’s chin, searching for those watery brown eyes. “I was a coward. I didn’t know you’d be interested. With all the women you’ve been with, I thought I was just …convenient.”
“You’re not—” Robby reached for him, frantic, panic rising.
Please don’t leave.
“I know that now.” Jack smoothed a thumb over the back of his hand.
“Just say the word, Mikey, and I’m yours.”
The tears were rolling freely down his cheeks now. Jack waited, hopeful and patient, like there was nowhere else in the world he needed to be.
Robby crumbled.
“…I want you, Jack. God I want you, I need—”
“Anything. Everything.”
Robby was on him the next second, crushing their mouth together and climbing into Jack’s lap. The kiss was wet, hot, messy—easily the best thing in Robby’s life. He felt Jack beam, a soft bubbling sound rising deep from his chest.
“Up, up, we’re too old for this.” Jack swatted lightly at his ass.
“Couch is a perfectly horizontal surface with cushioning.” Robby whined, biting at Jack’s bottom lip.
“Not for what I have in mind for you, sweetheart.” Jack murmured in his ear.
A shiver run down Robby’s spine. An involuntary, embarrassing sound slipped out, high and needy.
“Fuck. You like that?” Jack watched almost reverent as a bright red spread down Robby’s neck. A slow predatory smile curved his mouth. “Oh I’m going to have so much fun tonight.”
“Shut up asshole.” Robby grumbled but let go, watching Jack pick up the prosthetic. He frowned, head cleared a little.
“Not going anywhere.” Jack reassured, following his line of sight. “Just figured I’ll do all the work afterward. Easier this way.”
Robby raised an eyebrow. “Going to draw me a bath with rose petals, Abbot?”
“We’ll see. I doubt you’ll be able to leave the bed,” Jack said matter-of-factly, watching with satisfaction as the flush deepened.
“Didn’t know you were so picky,” Robby complained, hugging a pillow, nerves knotting despite himself.
Jack had made quick work of his clothes once they reached the bedroom, then started arranging Robby on the bed—shoving a pillow here, tugging the quilt there. Robby felt like a doll at Jack’s mercy. Maybe that wasn’t far from the truth.
“Easy. Juuust making sure you’re comfortable.” Jack shifted behind him, stroking down his spine and stopped at the dimples of his lower back, raising goosebumps in his wake.
“‘m comfortable. Could fall asleep right here—” Robby’s bitching was cut short as calloused hands spread his cheeks without warning and warm breath puffed against his hole.
“Jack wait—ahh!”
He clenched involuntarily as Jack’s tongue wormed its way in, reducing him to little moans and whimpers in seconds, hips pushing up instinctively at the overwhelming sensation. It was already too much—he’d expected cold lubed fingers, not warm flesh licking around his insides and sucking at the rim. And Jack, the fucker, was humming happily, like Robby was something to savor.
Robby let out a sob, trying but failing to rut against the sheets, Jack’s steady hands leaving marks on his skin and holding him firmly in place.
“You’re leaking everywhere.”
Jack’s tongue left with an obscene sound and he chided, only to dive back down and lap at the puckered hole, earning a violent shiver and a sharp keen.
“Not gonna…ugh…last like this…” Robby pleaded, breathless.
“That’s unfortunate.”
Robby heard faint rustle in his bedside drawer, but his vision was too blurry to track Jack’s movements. The next thing he knew, two thick fingers were pushing in, pressing down hard on his sweet spot, merciless. Robby yelped, clawing at the sheets, sweat pooling at his lower back, a litany of “jack” “please” falling from his lips.
“It wasn’t polite, the way you shoved past me today.” Jack commented conversationally, taking his sweet time scissoring Robby open with one hand, all too content to ignore Robby’s twisting and cries.
“And you storming off was definitely noticed by a few. I wonder what the pool board will say tomorrow—Uh-uh, none of that.”
Jack caught Robby’s hand drifting down seeking release, pressed his front flush against Robby’s back and nipped at his earlobe.
“What am I gonna do with you, Michael, hmm?”
Robby moaned softly, mind completely dissolved into static. Chocolate brown eyes half lidded and glazed over, he rocked languidly into Jack’s hand. “Please…wanna come, let me come…please…”
“God you’re beautiful like this.” Jack’s breath almost stopped at the heavenly sight below him. A wicked smirk tugged at his lips.
“Picture me in uniform, sweetheart, you like that don’t you?”
Robby garbled out a sound akin to a yes.
“Then you know what to say.”
Robby muffled another whine in the pillow, shaking his head, ears a bleeding red.
“Come on darling, I will let you come, and then I will fuck you real good.”
Jack goaded, three fingers withdrawing slowly then pushing in hard and deep. Robby arched his back with a tiny mewl.
“Fuck, fuck—please, Jack, please let me come…” he sobbed out. “Please, Sir.”
“Good boy.”
Jack smiled, took Robby in hand and stroked his cock with the rhythm of fingers shoving in.
Robby came with a shout almost instantly, vision whiting out from the shattering pleasure, ears ringing and body quaking through the aftershocks. Distantly Jack was whispering praises, palm warm and splayed protectively over his belly.
By the time Robby could think like a normal person again, Jack had somehow flipped him over and was now hovering above him, eyes soft.
“You okay? I lost you there for a second.”
“Yeah…yeah.” Throat raw like sandpaper, Robby glared. “You’re a menace.”
“A menace who just granted you the best orgasm. You’re welcome.” Jack grinned, wolfish.
“It was good. Might even make the top three.”
Robby tried to move and immediately regretted it, scowling when shivers still chased through his limbs.
Jack had gone quiet, and when Robby looked up he almost laughed at the scandalized look staring back.
“Top three? You’re so on Robinavitch.”
Jack thumbed down the band of his underwear. Robby’s mouth suddenly went dry. He tried to subtly back up and was promptly pulled back by the calf.
“Give me a minute?”
“I’ll give you ten. I’m feeling generous.”
Robby stared at him incredulously, “You do realize I’m not twenty anymore, right?”
“Relax, old man.” Jack rolled his neck and hefted up Robby’s legs, pecs flexing.
“Think you can handle a dry orgasm?”
Fuck. He’s so fucked.
“I’m not gonna be able to get on the bike tomorrow.” Robby lamented. Jack had fucked him twice face to face, the second time without a condom and Robby vaguely recalled himself begging unceremoniously for Jack to finish inside.
“Hm, wasn’t planning on letting you. Stay for a few days so I can wine and dine you?” Jack pressed down a yawn against Robby’s chest, arms looped loosely around his waist.
“All for grand gestures, huh?”
“I’ll mark today down as anniversary too if you like.”
They both winced.
“Yep, no.” “Bad idea.”
“What d’you want later? Thai? Jamaican?”
“Your pick, love.”
Robby’s heart lurched a little at the endearment. He supposed Jack was his… boyfriend now? The word felt childish. Partner?
“Mikey, babe, you’re thinking too loud.” Jack straightened and cupped his face. For once, Robby did not shy away from the eye contact.
“I love you, Michael Robinavitch, and you’re never getting rid of me.”
Robby felt like he could cry again. “Love you too, Jack.”
A beat.
“I’m still getting that drink with Al-Hashimi though. Interested in what she has to say about you. I’m hearing things about a conversation you two had around a pool?”
“Go to sleep Dr. Abbot.”
“Sir, yes sir.”