Chapter Text
Jack Abbot was getting a new mattress. He didn’t know how old his current one was and he figured that was a good enough reason to get a new one. The problem was that he didn’t think he was capable of moving it by himself. So he called Robby. The question was barely out of his mouth before Robby was saying yes. Jack could hear keys jingling in the background as he was saying goodbye and smiled to himself. He knew Robby would show up.
Michael knew that when Jack called, he answered. No matter what he was doing, unless he was at the hospital, he answered. And when Jack asked him to come help set up a mattress, Robby had said yes even before the question had fully been spoken. He thought he might be in love with Jack some days. Others, he managed to convince himself that this was just how everyone felt about their best friend. Mostly, he ignored it. Today was an ignoring day. He pulled up to Jack’s house all of twenty minutes later, parking his bike in Jack’s driveway and stowing the keys in his pocket as he wrangled with his helmet. He’d started wearing it again after he’d had to call Jack to come help on a day shift where he swore every other patient was a victim of a motorcycle accident. Jack had cornered him afterwards and made him promise not to be stupid. Robby had always had a hard time saying no to Jack.
Putting the bed together was hell. It was big and clumsy and it kept getting stuck and knocking things over and, more than once, it had taken Jack or Michael down with it. Pictures had fallen off the wall and once, there was a close call with the tv. Despite it all, they were laughing more than either of them had in a long time. They were remembering when they first met, telling stories from when they were still rivals. Memories that had been long forgotten, lost to time, were resurfacing. They took a break around noon and wandered into Jack’s kitchen. Jack hopped up onto the counter to give his leg a break and Michael started poking around like he owned the place. “I swear, I’ve never seen such chaos,” Michael said, staring in faint awe at a cabinet that contained peanut butter, a stick of regular butter, a box of off-brand Cheerios, and, the oddest part of it all, a single avocado. The cabinet beside it contained applesauce, a box of corn flakes, and the rest of the avocados. Michael turned to Jack with an expression torn somewhere between absolute disbelief and horror. Jack shrugged, amused. “You’re welcome to organize it if it’ll make you feel better.” Michael just shook his head. “What do you want to eat?” he asked, choosing not to linger on it. Jack just shrugged. “Whatever. You always whip up something good.” Michael huffed but he couldn’t bring himself to be too upset, not if Jack was going to keep complementing him. “Always making me do the thinking,” he grumbled, but the faintly amused glance he shot Jack let him know he wasn’t really upset.
After lunch had been made (Jack was right, whatever Robby cooked was good) and eaten and the dishes had been cleaned, it was back at it. They were more coordinated this go around, having learned from their morning attempts. At long last, it was finished. Set up in the living room, sure, but it was set up. The couch was pushed out of the way, the massive bed taking up the rest of the space. They ordered pizza, too tired to even think about trying to cook, and turned on the tv, landing on some stupid medical drama that made both of them equally amused and frustrated as they watched fake doctors incorrectly do procedures that didn’t exist. Soon enough, the pizza was there and they put it between them, eating it all in a few short hours. It was late by now, too dark for Robby to drive the bike home, and it was quickly decided that he’d stay there. They turned the volume on the tv down but let it play as background noise as they settled down in Jack’s brand new bed. They were too tired and too old to care much and both fell asleep more quickly than they expected.
Jack woke up tangled around something warm and soft. It took him a moment to process that, too comfortable and content to make his brain work any faster. Finally he opened his eyes, realizing the warm, soft thing he was curled around was actually Robby. Their legs were tangled together and Robby’s hand was resting lower on Jack’s back than could be called platonic, a direct result of his arm tossed casually over Jack’s waist. Robby was still sleeping and Jack, after checking the time and deciding it was too early to be awake, buried his face in his best friend’s chest and went back to sleep. The next time Jack woke, Robby was up too. By the looks of it, it had only been a moment or two, judging by Robby’s bleary look as he took in the situation. Jack’s hands had migrated under his shirt since the last time Jack had been awake, chasing the heat of Robby’s skin, if Jack had to guess. He’d always run cold and the heat radiating off Robby was far from objectionable. He yawned, tempted to just settle back down and go back to sleep. Robby had the day off, after all, and Jack was warm and comfortable. This train of thought was interrupted by Robby moving. “Morning,” he said, pulling almost completely away from Jack, as far as he could get with Jack’s hands still up his shirt anyway, and Jack could see the faint edge of panic in his eyes. He pulled his hands back, ignoring the very inconvenient flash of irritation that arose when Robby was out of his reach.
Michael had intended to leave as quickly as possible, more than embarrassed by how they’d woken up. Jack had seemed completely unbothered though and asked him to make breakfast. He’d always had a hard time saying no to Jack. So here he was, in the kitchen, making breakfast. He’d found flour and some strawberries that were about to go bad and blueberries that looked perfectly ripe. The obvious choice was pancakes. He’d added some water to the flour, as well as some sugar, baking soda, (it was a miracle Jack had it) milk, an egg, and some butter. He’d also give the fruit to Jack with instructions to cut them up. His batter had combined beautifully and the first pancake had come out perfectly. He took the cut fruit from Jack, added some water and an ungodly amount of sugar to a pot, and set it to simmer as he made the rest of the pancakes. By the time that was done, the fruit had turned into a gorgeous compote, the perfect topper for his perfect pancakes. The familiar act of cooking had calmed Michael enough that he was able to joke around normally with Jack again, pushing the embarrassment from the morning aside. He’d worry about it later. For now, they had pancakes to eat.
Jack had seen the way Robby had glanced at the door, could see that he was planning to bolt as soon as possible. It made him feel unreasonably upset. He didn’t want Robby to leave yet. Handn’t wanted his friend to pull away while he was so comfortable and warm either but this he could prevent. He knew Robby hardly ever said no to him. He didn’t abuse it often but right now, all he knew was that he didn’t want Robby to leave. So he asked for breakfast. He watched the fight happen in Robby’s eyes, saw the desire to leave fighting with the hatred of telling Jack no. Jack watched with a sick sort of pleasure. He should feel bad, probably. He shouldn’t use Robby’s pattern of behavior to get him to do what Jack wanted. That was manipulation, probably. Jack wasn’t a therapist but he had one so he felt at least mildly qualified to say that. But then Robby nodded and Jack couldn’t bring himself to be sorry. Now they were sitting eating pancakes and some berry concoction Robby had cooked up. Jack had cut the fruit so he felt mildly accomplished as they sat down together. They made idle chit chat as they ate but Jack was already thinking about ways he could keep Robby here longer. They still had to move the bed into Jack’s bedroom but Jack had a feeling it would take more than the two of them. Still, it was something. And Jack would take anything at the moment. After ten minutes or so, Jack, as casually as he could manage, hooked his foot around Robby’s ankle, something in his chest settling at the reestablishment of physical contact. Jack was starting to think he might be in love with Robby. This was news to him, of course, he’d never considered it before. It made sense though. Robby was the first person he thought of when anything good or bad happened in his life. Or when he got a good piece of gossip. Robby was the only one Jack let himself be vulnerable around. The only one Jack took his leg off in front of. Robby was the only one Jack truly felt safe around. Hmm. Well, he’d figure it out. He always did.
Michael was slowly losing his mind, he thought. Jack hooked his foot around Michael’s ankle at some point over breakfast and Michael had to wonder if Jack was doing it on purpose. He looked perfectly cool and calm and normal and Robby was sure now he was losing his mind. For a brief moment, Michael wondered if Jack was possibly in love with him. But that was insane. Michael couldn’t think like that or he’d do something stupid. Something stupid like tell Jack that he loved him. Something stupid like grab his collar and kiss him. And so he shook himself out of it and continued eating.
Breakfast went by too quickly for Jack’s liking. He helped Robby clean up and watched as he started inching towards the door as soon as it was done. He sighed softly to himself, wondering if he should just let Robby go. The tiny, possessive voice in the back of his mind won out though. He grabbed Robby’s sleeve. “Where are you going?” He saw the deer-in-headlights look Robby gave him but was too far past caring. “Home,” Robby said after a moment, smoothing his expression. “Bout time, don’t you think?” Jack studied him for a moment. “No.” Robby let out a surprised huff of a laugh. “No?” Jack shook his head. “You should stay.” Robby stared blankly at him for a long moment. Jack understood why. He’d never acted like this before. He’d also never realized he was in love with Michael Robinavitch before so he felt like he had a pretty good excuse. Robby dragged his hand over his face. “And why should I stay here?” he asked, giving Jack a faintly amused look. Jack shrugged. “I want you to.” Aaand there it was. The immediate surrender. Jack smirked. Robby huffed a sigh. “I wish I knew how you do that,” he grumbled, lightly tugging his sleeve from Jack’s grasp. Jack just shrugged, feeling unduly pleased with himself. “I think you just love me,” he said without thinking. He didn’t regret it, not even as Robby went through the five stages of grief in front of him. “Yeah something like that,” Robby finally choked out, turning away. Jack snorted a faint laugh and plopped down on the bed that was still occupying nearly his entire living room, patting the spot beside him. He watched Robby hesitate, then sit down. He was stiff and uncomfortable and Jack frowned slightly at the sight. “Relax, what’s the matter with you?”
Michael was going to die. Micahel was going to die and it was going to be Jack’s fault. He needed to leave, he needed to go home and relax and stop thinking about his best friend tucked against him, limbs tangled in ways that were not platonic. But he couldn’t say no to Jack. He never had been able and so here he was. Sitting on the bed he’d helped set up in Jack’s now-overcrowded living room. And Jack was asking him what his problem was. He toyed with the idea of just spitting it out. What was the worst that could happen? Jack would be revolted. Okay, that he could handle. It would hurt, but he could handle it. Jack would cut him off. And there it was. He couldn’t risk that, that wouldn’t be okay. So he just shrugged. “Tired, I guess.” He could feel Jack’s frown, even though he wasn’t looking. “You want a nap? You should enjoy your day off. And I should get some sleep before my shift anyhow.” Micahel huffed a faint laugh. “We’ve only been awake for an hour.” Jack laughed slightly too. “Eh, so what. Sleep is fun.” Muchael finally looked over again, a reluctant smile pulling at his mouth. “Alright, alright, let’s take a nap.” Jack grinned, victorious, and Michael felt that warm thing blossom in his chest again. He cursed himself internally but just succumbed to it, shifting to lay down in the bed. Jack did the same, pausing to unhook his leg and setting it aside. “Stubborn man,” Jack muttered under his breath, but he was smiling so Michael didn’t take it seriously.
Jack was thrilled. He was getting to sleep in the same bed as Robby again. If he played his card right, they could end up all tangled together again by the time they woke up. He felt a brief flash of guilt that he was manipulating Robby like this but Jack had always gone after what he wanted in a kind of reckless, slapdash way and this was no different. He had only realized he wanted Robby an hour ago but he was already trying to figure out how to get him. He hesitated just briefly, trying to will himself not to push too far too fast. He didn’t quite succeed. No, instead, he curled up right against Robby’s side, his head tucked comfortably against the other man’s shoulder. He felt Robby’s sharp inhale and waited, ready to move if Robby seemed too upset. After a moment though, he felt Robby relax slowly, controlled. And then there was a hand tangled in the short hair at the base of his neck. Jack grinned against Robby’s shoulder and closed his eyes, content.
Michael stared at the ceiling, contemplating his options. He felt oddly calm, like it couldn’t get any worse than this. Options, though. He could leave when Jack fell asleep. Make up an excuse when Jack called him afterwards. Or he could pretend it meant nothing to him, like it meant nothing to Jack. Or…Michael chewed on the inside of his lip, considering. Or…he could tell Jack the truth. Jack didn’t seem to mind being close to him. Seemed to want Robby to stay. Was it so far a reach to say Jack cared for him? It had to be. Right? There was no way Jack actually loved him. He’d have told him by now. Michael knew Jack, Jack wasn’t the type to sit by and not do anything about his feelings. Michael sighed and shifted slightly, absently scratching at Jack’s scalp, startled when Jack let out a soft, content sound. It made an involuntary smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Oh fuck, he was so screwed.
Jack was so screwed. Was he really going to do this? Potentially ruin a twenty-plus year friendship on a whim that had just popped up this morning? Apparently. In any case, he was curled up with said friend, in a bed, limbs laced together in ways that Jack did not consider platonic. He was trying not to read into it but then Robby lightly scratched at his scalp and he practically purred. Oh, he liked that. That wasn’t entirely new information though, he knew he liked to be pet. He’d never been pet by Robby though. Oh dear. He really didn’t have a choice, did he? After a long while, mostly of him building up his courage, Jack tilted his head back so he could meet Robby’s gaze. “Michael?” he asked softly. Saying Robby’s first name like that sent a slight shiver down his spine. He didn’t use it very often, Robby was easier, and it made things less complicated since everyone at work called him Robby. He saw Robby’s surprise in his eyes as Robby tilted his head down to look at him. “Yes?” Jack smiled faintly, suddenly nervous again. “This is nice,” is what came out eventually. Robby smiled faintly. “It is.” Robby looked away, making Jack frown slightly. He didn’t say anything though, all his courage gone. He’d have to recover and try again.
Michael’s attempt to keep his cool was going badly. Jack’s content little noises, his warmth against Michael’s side, and then, on top of all that, Jack saying his name so softly? Michael was pretty convinced he was going to die. Jack never used his first name so it was even more surprising, though Michael couldn’t say he didn’t love the sound of his name on Jack’s lips. He wanted to hear it more often, actually. The silence stretched between them. Then: “Why do you call me Robby?” Michael asked, voice low and soft and unintentional. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Jack shifted slightly against his side. “What do you mean?” Michael shrugged slightly, suddenly self conscious. “I don’t know. You’ve known me for so long, it’s kind of odd you don’t call me Michael.” He could feel Jack staring at him. He swallowed, hand flexing where it’s resting in Jack’s hair. “And it’s not like I call you Abbot or anything,” Michael said after a moment with a half laugh. Jack was still staring at him. “Sorry, it’s stupid.” Michael said, regretting his words. “Robby is fine, it’s not like you have to call me Michael or anything-” “I could,” Jack interrupted, voice low and soft. Michael closed his mouth. “It is about time I suppose,” Jack continued.
Jack’s heart was beating like he’d just finished a run. They were on the edge of something, he knew they were. Robby’s invitation to call him Michael felt like the start of…whatever this was going to be. Jack breathed slowly. “Michael?” he asked softly, not entirely sure how he was going to do this but absolutely positive he was ready to do it. He felt Robby- Michael, swallow. “Yes?” Jack grinned slightly and pushed himself up onto his elbow so he could meet Michael’s eyes. He opened his mouth, then closed it, still not sure what to say. His mind flicked through a couple options that he dismissed one by one. They’d been friends for too long, a cheesy, sappy, declaration of love wouldn’t work here. Michael was looking at him expectantly and Jack let out a faint huff of vague irritation at his lack of inspiration. Finally he opened his mouth. “Michael,” he started again, loving the sound of his name. “I love you.” It was simple, plain in the way that all of Jack’s emotions were. It was enough, he thought.
Michael felt his breath catch in his chest. He sat up quickly, almost dislodging Jack from where he was balanced. He instinctively steadied him with a hand on Jack’s arm, the commotion ending with them even closer together, faces mere inches apart. Michael was too old for this, he was pretty sure. He had meant to say something, to tell Jack he loved him too, but nothing was coming out. He just- stayed there. Breathing. He watched Jack’s gaze flick down to his mouth and felt a flash of white hot panic, panic that he’d trained himself to feel every time he got too close to…this. To Jack. Jack dragged his gaze up to meet Michael’s again and Michael knew he needed to say something. He opened his mouth but all that came out was Jack’s name, breathless and faintly pleading. Jack laughed softly. “Is that a yes, Michael?” Michael nearly whined, a terribly undignified sound for a man his age. “Dear god, Jack, of course it’s a yes,” he finally managed, pulling himself together and dragging a hand through his hair. Jack grinned. “Yeah?” Michael nodded, his heart beating faster than he thought was safe at 52. Jack shifted, hand coming up to thread through Michael’s hair. “Good,” he murmured, moving closer. Michael forced himself to take a breath, closing his eyes before he did something stupid like look at his mouth. He heard Jack laugh quietly and then his hand was on Michael’s cheek, thumb brushing his mouth. “Michael.” Michael opened his eyes. Jack grinned. “There you are,” Jack murmured, voice low and faintly teasing. His thumb brushed against Michael’s mouth again and Michael sighed softly. Jack’s smile widened. They were too old for this, Michael thought. He swallowed, reminding himself he was 52 years old and a senior attending at a good hospital. He was not a coward. So leaned into Jack’s hand for a moment, gathering his courage, then leaned in and pressed his mouth to Jack’s.