Archive of Our Own

Three months ago, Gloria sent out an email informing the staff of an upcoming medical conference. Three months ago, Robby and Jack both deleted the email without bothering to read it.

Two months ago, Gloria sent out a reminder email. Well, it was probably a reminder. Robby saw the subject line, scoffed, and deleted it. He’d never really liked going to medical conferences, and that had only gotten worse as he got older. He only went to the last one because it was in Philly, and even then Gloria had to twist his arm. There was no way in hell he was getting talked into this one.

A month and a half ago, Gloria sent out yet another email politely (read: passive aggressively) requesting an attending go to the conference. To fill a quota or some other numbers bullshit, Robby was sure. No matter. He deleted the email again and got back to work. He’d fought bigger fights with Gloria; he could handle this nonsense.

A month ago, Gloria cornered him in the ED, brow pinched and mouth downturned. “Have a minute?” she asked, but it wasn’t really a request.

Robby shook his head. “No, sorry, we are swamped. I should really go check on the interns.” He turned on his heel, ready to flee.

A sharp “Dr. Robinavitch” stopped him in his tracks.

Wincing, he turned back around. “Okay.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”

“I take it you haven’t received my last few emails,” she began, “because your response was needed by last week, and I have yet to receive it.”

“My response,” Robby said, nodding. “Okay. I’m not going.”

“I’m not asking,” Gloria snapped. “You have until the end of the day tomorrow to make a decision about who you’re sending. And if I don’t get a name, I will make the choice myself.” She gave him a pointed look, message clear.

He sighed. “Fine.”

There wasn’t an attending he hated enough to send to Phoenix in June, and clearly, if no one volunteered already, he wasn’t going to get lucky there. He sighed again, hanging his head. “Fuck,” he muttered.

***

That evening, right before shift change, Robby clapped his hands to get the attention of all his attendings. He’d had to threaten and bribe some of them to show up on their days off, but it was for a…well, not a good cause.

“Someone has to go to the conference next month,” he announced. “I know,” he continued, talking over all the groans. “Gloria’s breathing down my neck about it, and I figured this was only fair. Before we begin, would anyone like to volunteer?”

Several glares were sent his way.

“I didn’t think so. Alright, grab a chair. You know the rules.” He plopped back in his own wheelchair. A time honored tradition at the Pitt: who could balance a wheelchair the longest. It’d started decades ago, when Adamson himself was a resident, and Robby had adopted it in his own reign as chief.

Jack cackled. “You’re all going down, losers,” he said. “I could do this in my sleep.” He spun his wheelchair in a small circle, expertly handling the chair. It’d been years since he’d used one, the one in their closet gathering dust, but muscle memory was hard to lose.

John narrowed his eyes at Jack. “What are the rules?”

“Keep the chair up the longest,” Robby replied. “First one down gets to experience the lovely Phoenix, Arizona.”

“Who the fuck schedules a conference in Phoenix in June anyway?” Jack complained. “What the fuck kind of sadists put this together?”

“Complain later; I want to go home,” another attending, Dr. Henderson, snapped, grumpy at being bothered on her off day. “Come on, Robby. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Robby should have seen it coming. He should’ve picked up on the mischievous glint in John’s eye as regarded Jack, the two of them sitting next to each other. He should’ve noticed the way John studied Jack who was so at ease in a wheelchair. Unfortunately, Robby was too preoccupied with winning to notice anyone else. There was no way in hell he was going to Phoenix.

“Everyone up!” He rocked back on the wheels and waited for everyone else to do the same. “And go.”

It happened in slow motion. Almost immediately, he watched as John wobbled in his wheelchair. At first, Robby thought this would be quick, the newest attending the sacrifice, but after he watched John wobble his wheelchair in a certain direction, he started to understand what was happening.

Sucks to be Jack, Robby thought. He sat there, watching with delight, as John “accidentally” spun in his chair, managing to stay on two wheels, as he knocked into Jack. Jack was knocked off balance, and, despite his attempts to recover, all too soon, Jack was rocking backward, slamming into the ground.

“Have fun in Phoenix, Abbot!” Dr. Dunphy laughed. He and Henderson both jumped to their feet, eager to head home.

“Nuh-uh!” Jack rolled to his feet, only wincing at little. “Bullshit I’m going!”

“Robby, what were the rules again?” John asked, smug.

Jack shot him a scathing look.

“Sorry, Jack,” Robby said. “There aren’t any rules against it. You lost.” He shrugged. “We’ll add it for next time. Send us a postcard.” And then he booked it, trying to go far, far away before Jack got a hold of him.

***

“It’s a thousand degrees in Phoenix,” Jack complained two weeks out. “I’m Irish. I’ll burn to a crisp. I’ll come home a french fry.”

“A cute french fry,” Robby countered.

Jack glared.

***

One week out, he tried a new tactic. “What if it’s so hot, my prosthetic melts? Then what? I’ll be legless in Phoenix.”

“I’m sure there’s air conditioning,” Robby assured him. “Just stay inside. Oh, and maybe bring your crutches.”

“Why do you hate me?”

Robby leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

Jack huffed and shoved him away, scowling down at his phone.

***

The night before, Jack was pouting on the couch, arms crossed and pointedly not looking at Robby. There was an empty suitcase at his feet, one Robby had to drag out for him. He was in denial about the whole thing, even with his flight in the morning.

“Jack, come on.”

Jack turned his head away even farther, neck craning at an angle that had to be uncomfortable. “You’re not even going to miss me.”

“Sure, I will.”

“That sounded so convincing, Michael.”

Robby chuckled, dropping down beside Jack. He tried to take Jack’s hand but was rebuffed. “It’s only a week. Less than if you really think about it.”

“You clearly don’t love me like I love you.”

Throwing his head back and laughing, Robby shifted closer, ignoring Jack’s stiff body language, to wrap his arms around him. He pressed a kiss to Jack’s jaw. “I’ll miss you,” he mumbled, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “So much. I’ll pine for you. I’ll cry myself to sleep every night, hugging your pillow.”

A pause, then Jack grumbled, “That’s a start.”

Robby smiled. He grasped Jack’s chin in his hand, turning his head until their eyes met. “Hey,” he whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to Jack’s lips.

Jack cupped the back of his head, tilting his head for a better angle as he slipped his tongue into Robby’s mouth. Robby allowed him, letting the kiss go on for several long seconds before he jerked away. Jack whined, trying to tug Robby’s head back in.

“No,” Robby said, grinning at the disgruntled look on Jack’s face. “Finish packing first.” He nudged the empty suitcase with his foot. “Then you can get me naked.”

Jack had never packed faster in his life.

Monday

Robby showed up a little late that morning. He’d gotten up at 0600 like normal, and he’d gone through the motions of getting ready for work. Put on his cargos, found a clean scrub top, slipped a jacket over it because despite the summer, he didn’t like the attention people gave him when they saw the scrubs. He made coffee, stuffed some leftovers (despite knowing he probably wouldn’t eat it) and some granola bars in a lunchbox, and reorganized Jack’s bag, tossing in a few things Jack had forgotten in his haste to get Robby naked.

He kissed Jack goodbye at the airport and ignored the growing unease as he watched Jack walk away. He hadn’t been lying yesterday; he would miss Jack, definitely, but he was a grown man. He could handle being alone for a week. He and Jack, despite their staff’s teasing, were not codependent. He was going to be fine, despite the urge he had to chase after Jack and demand he not go. He ignored that, ignored the pit in his stomach, and left the airport once he couldn’t see Jack’s curly hair anymore.

***

Dana was at his side as soon as he sat down at a station. She leaned against the desk, her arm pressed against his, warm and comforting even through the layers, and smiled softly at him. “You look like someone took your favorite toy,” she teased.

Robby put his glasses on, squinting anyway because John’s handwriting was absolutely atrocious. “What does this say?” he asked instead, tilting the paper toward her. “Is that a four or a nine?”

Dana slapped the paper down without even looking at it. “It’s a six,” she said. “Seriously, how you feelin’?”

“I’m not going to crumble because my partner’s gone for a week,” he told her. He looked at the paper again. How the fuck was that scribble a six? “Are you sure it’s a six?”

“Yes.” Dana touched his wrist gently and said, “It’s okay to be sad about it.”

Robby sighed, rubbing at his temple. He already knew today was going to be a headache day. “I’m fine. Really.” He tugged his wrist away from her and got to his feet.

“Dr. Robby?” Javadi rushed up to him, out of breath. She panted, trying to catch her breath, and pointed. “Dr. McKay needs help with a patient. Now.”

Robby was glad for the distraction. The last thing he wanted was to talk about his feelings. He spun Javadi around and nudged her to lead him to the patient.

“We’re not done!” Dana threatened to his back. He waved over his shoulder, wondering how possible it was to avoid her the rest of the shift.

***

“You want to come get a drink?” Dana asked at the end of shift, nodding to where the others were grouped together. He could see at least three different conversations overlapping, Whitaker and Javadi excitedly looking at something on his phone, Mateo and Mel talking about something, and Perlah, Princess, and Santos speaking in Tagalog. His head hurt just thinking about going over there.

He politely declined. He zipped his hoodie up and shouldered his backpack.

Dana, for her part, was trying not to look concerned. “You sure? Better than going home to an empty house.”

Robby shook his head. It’d been a long day, not particularly difficult but…long. Tiring. And when shift change came, and Jack didn’t walk through the door, something in him wilted. He wanted nothing more than to go home and sulk. “Some other time,” he promised. He waved to everyone on his way out, calling out a goodnight, and he started his way home.

It was close to nine when his phone buzzed. Robby had already showered, changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he’d eaten the last of their leftovers. He was lying on the couch, struggling to keep his eyes open, while some stupid show that Jack loved played on the TV. All day they’d been texting on and off, Jack’s becoming increasingly annoyed, Robby’s becoming more and more amused.

Robby sat up and stretched, wincing at the ache in his back, before grabbing his phone. He smiled at the contact picture that popped up. Jack, with the most deadpan expression, holding two thumbs up. He looked annoyed and tired, and Robby remembered that after the picture was taken (by Ellis during a shift one night), Jack had crankily told them all to fuck off. When he’d gotten home that morning, Jack had bitched about how much he hated his coworkers (he didn’t) and how he was quitting (he never would).

Robby loved the picture. He loved remembering how warm Jack had been when he’d snuggled up to Robby after collapsing in their bed.

He answered the call. “How’s Phoenix?”

Jack groaned in reply. “It’s so fucking hot!” he complained. “How can people fucking live here? This is literal hell. I am in hell right now.”

Robby smiled. “Didn’t you go to the desert?”

“This is America; it shouldn’t be this fucking hot.”

“How was the first day? Meet lots of exciting new people?”

Jack huffed and replied, “I’ve been hit on by four different women. One of whom saw the ring and just shrugged it off. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t’. What the fuck was that?”

“Sounds like you’re the prettiest princess at the ball.”

“I hate you,” Jack grumbled. He paused, something that sounded like utensils scratching against a plate in the background, before he asked, “How come you’re not jealous? I tell you that women are throwing themselves at me, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Are you upset that I’m not jealous?”

“A little, yeah.”

“It’s what? Seven there?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s seven pm, and instead of going out with what I’m sure were very tempting offers, you’re in your hotel room, eating dinner alone. All because you wanted to talk to me.” Robby couldn’t help but feel smug at the thought. He was a serial-monogomist, didn’t really flirt with people without intent, but Jack was a flirt. He loved to flirt. It meant nothing, he would never act on it, and Robby was okay with it. Jack could flirt all he wanted, but it was Robby he went home with.

Jack was silent for a minute, then he said, “I could be meeting up with someone after. You don’t know.”

Robby leaned back, smiling at nothing. “Are you?”

“No,” Jack sighed. He took a bite of his dinner, chewing into the speaker because he was an obnoxious asshole. “How was your day, dear?”

“I’ll have you know, I also got hit on today.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Gladys, she’s 93, and she told me if she wasn’t confined to a wheelchair, she could show me a thing or two.”

Jack laughed, loud and bright, and Robby felt his chest warm just hearing it. “What’d you tell her?”

“I told her if I was forty years older, I’d let her.”

Another laugh. Robby really wished they were in the same room; he wanted nothing more than to press a kiss to the smile that was no doubt gracing Jack’s mouth right now. He settled for pressing the phone tight against his ear, as if that would somehow get them closer.

“I have some stiff competition,” Jack said, chuckling. There was some shuffling on his end. “How are my odds?”

“She’s missing some teeth, so I’d say your odds are pretty good.”

“So if I lose a tooth, does that mean we’re over?”

“Are you planning on losing your teeth?”

“I already lost a leg, and I hear teeth are much easier to lose.”

Robby rolled his eyes. “Depends on the tooth,” he joked. “One of the back ones? Maybe we’ll survive it. A front tooth?” He tsked, shaking his head. “We had a good run.”

Jack chuckled. “Good to know. I’ll cross playing hockey off my to-do list.”

“You can’t even skate.” Robby would pay good money to see Jack play hockey. The one time they went skating together, back when they were just friends and Jack’s wife, Michelle, was still alive, Jack had hugged the wall the entire ten minutes he was on the ice. Then, he had a cartoonish fall, hitting the ice with a solid thud, and that was the end of that. Jack spent the rest of the evening scowling into a cup of hot chocolate while Robby and Michelle skated lazy laps, stopping every once in a while to laugh at his misery.

“I have secret talents,” Jack insisted. “Baby, I have so many skills you don’t even know about.”

Robby snorted. He shifted on the couch, laying down. He rested an arm behind his head, absolutely not thinking about what would happen if Jack walked in and saw him like this. “Wheelchair balancing isn’t one of them.”

“John Shen is a cheater!” Jack declared. “I was ambushed and ganged up on.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’m not going to sleep tonight,” Jack grumbled. “There’s something very important missing from this bed.”

Robby felt warm and fuzzy for all of a moment, thinking about what romantic thing he could say in return, until Jack finished with, “I really miss my pillow.”

“I’m hanging up,” Robby groused, shifting to lay on his side.

Jack snickered. “No, I won’t be sleeping because it’s a thousand degrees here. I cranked the air conditioning, and I still feel like I’m dying.”

“Poor baby.” Robby yawned. As illogical as it was, he was feeling every bit of Jack’s absence. Could sadness tire someone out? It sure felt like it.

“You sound tired,” Jack noted.

Robby hummed. “I’m good,” he replied, betrayed by how tired he definitely sounded. “Keep talking.”

“That’s a first.”

Robby fell into a doze like that, listening to Jack ramble about something or other, only rousing when Jack, yelling into the speaker to wake him, convinced him to save himself the back pain and sleepily stumble his way to the bedroom. He fell asleep for real, Jack’s pillow under his head, his phone displaying a good night, love you text.

Tuesday

I dreamt about you last night

Robby closed out of his messages, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. He’d been staring at the text on and off for almost an hour. It was the first thing Jack had sent him that morning. Robby, already three hours into his shift, had glanced at it absently, then almost dropped his phone in his haste to lock his screen. While the words themselves were innocent enough, Robby knew the intent behind them. He flushed just thinking about it, about Jack’s wicked grin he most definitely wore as he typed the message.

More than once, Dana had frowned his way, no doubt wondering if he was coming down with something with how red his face had been over the past few hours.

He glanced around the ER, everyone busy with something or other, and he took the opportunity to duck into the empty break room, closing the door behind him. He unlocked his phone and opened his texts again, clicking on his chat with Jack. There it was, taunting him. Completely innocuous. He could’ve dreamed about them holding hands or something. Maybe Robby was making it way dirtier than it was…

Absolutely not. He knew exactly what Jack was doing. Jack knew what Jack was doing. They’d played this game before; on more than one occasion, Jack had given him a kiss goodbye, whispered something downright filthy in Robby’s ear, and then sent Robby on his way to work. Robby would spend the day keyed up, bolting for the door the second handover ended. It always led to great sex, Jack smug as hell at seeing Robby all worked up.

As he was staring at it, his mind drifting to the other night, his phone pinged, two texts in quick succession.

i wish you were here with me

you’d look so fucking good in these sheets

Robby took an unsteady breath. Goddamnit, he could feel his face going warm. Jack I’m at work.

So? I should be paying attention to this lecture but i’d rather think about your dick

“Fuck,” Robby muttered, running a hand over his mouth. Jack.

Yeah, you said that a lot in my dream. But it was way more breathy and hot.

I don’t sound breathy

He could practically hear Jack’s snort in his response.

Baby you make the best, breathy sounds when i fuck you

“Hey, GSW two minutes out.”

Robby startled, almost dropping his phone. He whipped his head up, clutching his phone to his chest as if that wasn’t suspicious, trying to force his face into something less condemning. “What?” he asked.

Dana frowned at him, stepping fully into the staff room. “GSW, two minutes out. You good? You look a little flushed.” She reached out, as if to check his temperature, and he slapped her hand away.

Robby cleared his throat and slipped his phone into his pocket. “Uh, yeah. Just Jack checking in,” he replied. He collected himself, taking a deep breath, and gestured for her to lead the way. He pointedly didn’t make eye contact with her.

Her face quickly morphed from concerned to amused. “How is your man?” she asked.

He answered, “He’s melting.”

She hummed, smirking up at him. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day Dr. Robby would be caught sexting at work.”

He flushed again, ears going red, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sexting,” he mumbled. A futile attempt but better than nothing.

Dana snorted, slapping his arm with the back of her hand. “Then why’s your face that color?”

Robby opened his mouth, not sure what was going to come out, but he was saved by the arrival of the ambulance. He pushed Jack out of his mind, all of his focus going to the young man who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Later, after everything calmed down again, he checked his phone, unsure what he was hoping to find. There was a single text, sent thirty minutes after Jack’s last one, one Robby was trying not to reread. It sent a thrill right through him, his body going warm and his heart beating faster. He found himself looking at the clock every few minutes, impatiently waiting for the time he could run home.

Call me when you get home

***

Robby paced around their bedroom, his phone laying face up on the bed. He’d tried to call Jack the second he crossed the threshold of their home, but Jack hadn’t answered. He’d waited a few minutes, hopeful that Jack would call him right back, but after ten minutes passed with nothing, he’d sighed and tossed the phone. He’d jumped in the shower, ignored his half-chub, and changed into sweats and a t-shirt.

Still nothing.

He bit his lip, arms crossing and uncrossing. He picked at the hem of his shirt. He paced from one end of the room and back before he sighed. He couldn’t do this all night. He needed a distraction. Robby slumped on the bed, eyed his phone’s black screen, and made a frustrated sound. He grabbed his book off his nightstand and slipped his glasses on.

Robby opened his book, settled back against his pillows, and stared blankly at the words for several minutes. He tried to focus but all he could think about was Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack.

He groaned, tossing his book back on the nightstand. His glasses followed.

He flopped on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Fucking Jack. What a fucking asshole.

The phone buzzed, screen lit up with that stupid picture of Jack.

Robby debated letting it ring, giving Jack a taste of his own medicine, but the thought of potentially getting off won out in the end. He sat up and reached for the phone. “You’re late,” he grumbled.

Jack sounded out of breath. “I know, I know. Sorry, I got caught up at happy hour. I tried to leave when you called but some asshole apparently didn’t care that I had a date with a gorgeous guy.”

Robby couldn’t help but smile. “Were you a dick about it?”

“Fuck, yeah I was! I knew you were waiting for me, hopefully naked, and that guy would not stop talking. He’s probably already spreading it around that I’m a dick.”

“I’m not naked.”

A pause, then an incredulous, “Why the hell not?”

Robby chuckled. “You didn’t answer,” he reminded him. “I wasn’t sure if you still…”

Jack huffed. “The day I don’t want to get off with you is the day after I die. C’mon, big guy. Get naked for me.”

Robby went to put his phone on speaker but hesitated. Then, he asked, a little shy, “Can we Facetime instead? I want to see you.”

Jack groaned. “Fuck, yeah, baby. Here, hold on.” He ended the call, but a second later, a video call request popped up. Robby answered immediately, smiling at the sight of Jack trying to tug his shirt off one handed. Jack, when he appeared from beneath his shirt, grinned stupidly at the camera.

“Come on, Robby,” he said, nodding at the screen. “Show me some skin.”

Robby leaned his phone against his pillow and then scooted back so he was mostly in frame. He tugged his shirt off, dropping it off the side of the bed without taking his eyes off his phone. “Like that?” he asked slyly.

Jack groaned, head tilted back. “This was a mistake,” he grumbled. “Seeing you, but not being able to touch you is fucking torture. Fuck, okay, Mikey, lose your pants.”

“You’re demanding tonight,” Robby teased, but he listened. He shucked his sweatpants off, leaving his boxers on because he was an asshole sometimes, too. And because he was sometimes an asshole, he made sure Jack was looking before he squeezed his filling dick through his boxers, a small whimper escaping before he could stop it.

“You’re a menace,” Jack groaned. His camera shook for a minute, most likely Jack shucking his own pants, and then he groaned, head tipping back. His bicep flexed, and Robby bit his lip. He loved Jack’s arms. He loved feeling them wrapped around him, loved sinking his teeth into the bicep. Jack looked insane for an almost 50 year old, and, while Robby would love him no matter what, he appreciated how hard Jack worked for his body.

“You’re a menace,” Robby corrected, hands resting on his thighs. He shifted impatiently, wanting to wrap a hand around his cock, but Jack seemed like he was in a certain mood and Robby was happy to follow his lead.

Jack hummed, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “You look so good right now,” he said. “Like, it’s unreal how good you look.”

Robby blushed, fingers digging into his thighs. They fought about that a lot, how Robby looked. Robby was well aware he was…not as fit as he could be. He was too busy and too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to find time to work out. He’d put on a few pounds in the last few years, weight he thought about more often than he’d like to admit. He felt self-conscious sometimes, and Jack, picking up on that insecurity, never missed a chance to praise Robby’s body. The first few times Jack had heaped love and admiration on him, Robby had gotten flustered and thought Jack was teasing him. That’d led to a hell of a fight.

Undeterred, Jack continued his one-man campaign to make Robby feel attractive, and Robby let him. He didn’t believe him most of the time, but it made Jack happy when he relented. It was a work in progress.

“Jack,” Robby whined. He didn’t need permission, not really, but he liked when Jack took control. People came to him for answers, looked to him to fix things, and sometimes he wanted a break. He could do that with Jack.

Jack nodded, almost absently. “Yeah, yeah, Mikey, touch yourself. I wanna see you.”

Without hesitation, Robby kicked his boxers off, flinging them off the bed. He stroked his dick, sighing at the relief. Despite his embarrassment at being so open, he shifted, making sure Jack could see him.

“God, you’re fucking hot,” Jack said, arm flexing again. “I wish you were here with me. I wish I was touching you. Do you want that, Mike, me touching you?”

“Always,” Robby breathed, hand slowing on his dick. He bit his lip again, but a whine escaped him anyway. He tried to picture it, Jack’s hand on him, Jack’s hand dancing across his body, touching Robby wherever he could reach. He tightened his grip, the way Jack liked it.

“You make such pretty noises, baby,” Jack panted, his arm speeding up. “Fuck, if I was there with you, I don’t know what I’d do first. Maybe play with your chest? You’re so sensitive there. Touch yourself, Robby.”

Robby’s hand was moving before he even registered what Jack said. He rubbed his thumb over a nipple, gasping.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. I bet you could come just like that, huh?”

Robby shook his head, unsure of his ability to speak. He pinched his nipple, giving it a sharp tug like Jack did when he bit it. He grunted, cock jumping in his hand.

“Not now,” Jack agreed. His face was starting to turn red, the flush making its way down his neck and to the top of his chest. “When you were younger probably. I’d have liked to see that. Bet you were fucking gorgeous, coming untouched like that.”

“Jack,” Robby breathed. He stripped his dick faster, a familiar tightening in the base of his spine. He felt warm all over.

“I think I’d finger you next,” Jack continued. “I like when you fuck me, you hit me so good, baby, but getting to fuck you is otherworldly.” His breath hitched, just once, before he steadied himself. “You love when I fuck you.” Not a question.

Robby nodded furiously. “Jack, please.” His breathing was becoming unsteady. He was almost there, could feel himself nearing the edge, and he jerked himself roughly, thumb sweeping over his tip. He groaned.

“Maybe I’d suck you while I finger you,” Jack said. “You feel so good in my mouth, Mikey. I love when you get close, you lose your control. You’re more willing to fuck my mouth like that. I love when you fuck my mouth. Rob…” Jack groaned, then grunted.

Robby cried out, following him over the edge. He jerked himself through it, hand slowing until it became too much. He sighed happily, a dopey smile crossing his face. “Hey,” he said.

Jack hummed, shifting. He was leaning over, probably grabbing tissues or something. “Hey, yourself,” he replied.

“Hey, Jack.”

Jack glanced at him, and Robby brought his hand up, sucking a finger into his mouth. Jack’s eyes went wide. “You son of a bitch,” he breathed.

Robby laughed, dropping his hand to his thigh. He needed another shower anyway. “That’s for riling me up all day.”

“You’re terrible,” Jack grumbled, pouting.

“You started it!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d react like that!” Jack chuckled. “You’re something else, Mikey. Anytime I think you can’t get better, you go and prove me wrong.”

“Well, you know how much I love proving you wrong.”

Jack snorted. “Alright, smart guy. I should go. I’m already late to a dinner, and I should shower.”

Robby frowned. “Jack, did you blow off your professional responsibilities to have phone sex with me?”

“Why are you surprised?”

“Goodbye, Jack,” Robby said pointedly. He grabbed his phone, finger hovering over the end call button.

“Love you, Robby,” Jack said.

Robby smiled at him, soft. “I love you too, jackass.”

Wednesday

His phone buzzed repeatedly. Every time it stopped, there was a beat of silence before it started up again. It’d been going off for close to twenty minutes now. Robby, wedged between the bed and the small cabinet someone had shoved in this room, sobbed into his arms. He was curled up, as small as he could make himself, his knees pulled up, his arms wrapped around his legs, and his head buried. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been up there, in this empty room on the still abandoned eighth floor, but it was probably less than an hour. Long enough for someone to notice he was still missing and alert Dana. Long enough for Dana to search for him before she contacted Jack when she couldn’t find him.

Long enough for Jack to be calling him for twenty minutes straight.

Robby cried, tears streaming down his face, breaths alternating between hitching and gasping. He felt numb. He felt broken.

His phone quieted. A beat, then it started buzzing again.

He should answer, he knew he should, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He sat there, frozen, shoulders shaking, for a while. Long enough for his phone to stop and start again four more times. Then, taking a shaky breath, Robby lifted his head. He swiped at his face with his hands, but it didn’t help. The tears didn’t stop.

He sniffled. He sat there and stared at his phone for another round before he moved. Scooting across the floor, he picked up his phone before he scooted back to where he’d been. He leaned the side of his face against the bed, the metal a cool relief against his burning face. He waited for the call to end before he unlocked his phone. Thirty texts, a mix of Jack and Dana, increasingly frantic, and about forty missed calls from Jack.

Another call.

Robby took another shaky breath, hand trembling as he hovered over the answer button. He hesitated, unsure what he would even say, but he knew he should. They were probably out of their minds with worry. He wiped at his face again and answered the call.

***

Wednesday started not great. He woke up late, dropped his granola bar on the sidewalk, and someone knocked into him on the T while he was taking a sip of his coffee, spilling it everywhere. He arrived at the Pitt grumpy and covered in coffee.

Robby changed into the extra set of scrubs he kept in his locker before taking handover. John, as if he sensed Robby’s bad mood, gave him the rundown with no jokes. It was short and to the point. After night shift scattered, Robby did morning rounds, trying to keep his bad mood in check.

It didn’t last.

By nine, there were already two sets of difficult parents: one set demanding their kid be treated holistically rather than with medicine, and the other set demanding special attention for their child who most likely just had a stomach bug. By ten, a battered wife came in with no intention of reporting her husband. By noon, there had been two fights in chairs. By two, a guy came in with a minor cut on his hand; he proceeded to spend hours loudly complaining about the wait and bitching at Lupe.

It was a shitty day. Every hour seemed to be worse than the last. He was two cups of coffee deep and all he’d eaten was half a bagel he’d hastily shoved in his mouth before he was called away to deal with whatever new stupidity had arisen.

He leaned against the wall in the ambulance bay, breathing in the warm summer day. It was bright and sunny outside. He didn’t feel bright and sunny. He felt worn down. He felt exhausted in every single way. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go curl up in his bed and not get back up. He wanted to disappear. He should just walk away, leave all of this bullshit behind.

He sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, each one becoming less steady. He could feel the rising panic, his chest tightening, his hands becoming clammy. He started to slide down, head tucked against his chest.

“Robby.”

Dana appeared in front of him, face concerned. She touched his arm, gentle. “Drink this.” She pushed a paper cup at him. “No, drink this,” she said more firmly when he tried to shake his head.

He took the cup, full of water, taking an unsteady breath before he downed the entire cup in one go. “Fuck,” he muttered once it was empty, crushing the cup in his hand. He took another deep breath before he straightened. “I’m good,” he lied.

Dana eyed him warily. “You look like you were about to have a panic attack,” she said bluntly.

He huffed. “I’m good,” he repeated. He decided to do the mature thing and completely avoid this conversation. Without another word, he gave her a fake smile and headed back inside.

Dana, undeterred, stayed by his side. “If you need a minute-”

“I promise, I am fine,” he assured her. “Dr. Mohan!” he called, peeling away from Dana to head over to a startled Samira. “What’s new with the kid in south twenty?”

“Just a stomach bug,” she confirmed, handing over the chart. “We ran every test the parents asked for and found nothing. She’ll be fine with rest and water.”

“Bet the parents are going to love hearing that,” he muttered, scanning the chart. “I’ll handle the discharge,” he told her, hugging the chart to his chest. “Go find a new patient.”

She nodded.

As she turned to go, he said, “And Dr. Mohan? You did good with them.”

Samira smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Robby.”

The day, already on a steady decline, took a sharp downturn after that.

Around five, they received the call for multiple incoming traumas. A collision with a city bus that led to a five car pile up with multiple injuries. Four were DOA. Six people came in with minor scrapes and bruises. Five people came in with serious injuries but were expected to live. Five people, however, didn’t make it. Including two kids: a little girl, just ten years old, who’d unbuckled her seatbelt for a second to reach into the backseat, and a seven year old boy who’d just been unlucky.

“Fuck!” Robby yelled, startling everyone in the room. The heart monitor attached to the boy was a steady, flat line. Robby wanted to hit something, wanted to throw something, but he knew better. Instead, he ripped his gloves off, throwing them angrily in the trash. “Fuck,” he muttered, quieter. Ignoring everyone in the room, the silence, he stormed out.

“Robby,” Dana called.

“I need some air,” he called back. He could feel the rising panic, could feel his eyes start to water. He ignored Dana’s calls to him as he made a beeline for the stairs. As he climbed the stairs, the tears started. He wiped at his face, trying to hold himself together until he got somewhere quieter. Somewhere alone.

He made it all the way to the door to the roof before he stopped. He stood there, tears slipping down his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to reach for the door. Today was different. He felt different about today.

He’d always told himself, and Jack, that he’d never go there. He’d always said he’d never take that step off the roof, but right now, he wasn’t so sure. That scared him, the uncertainty, the possibility. Without Jack there, he wasn’t sure if he’d stop himself or not.

He started to push the door open. He could see it in his mind, standing on the edge, overlooking the city. He could see himself leaning forward, letting himself free fall.

He took a step back, letting the door fall shut. He could picture it clearly, and he couldn’t do that to Jack. He couldn’t do that to anyone here, but especially not Jack. The man had already lost one great love; losing another might actually kill him. Robby knew if he went, Jack might actually follow him. And that thought scared him more than anything, what his death might lead to.

He took a small step back, eyes locked on the roof door. He felt…he wasn’t sure what he felt. He just knew he couldn’t go out on the roof. He knew…he knew today might actually be the day.

He turned around, not looking behind him, and hurried down the stairs. He found himself on the empty wing on the eighth floor, dark and kind of spooky (Jack loved to tell the interns and med students that the floor was haunted). With tears flowing more freely, his vision blurry, his chest feeling tighter and tighter, he stumbled his way down the hall and into a random room.

***

“Hey,” Robby answered weakly.

“Oh, thank god,” Jack breathed. He sounded scared.

Robby sniffled again, burying his head back in his arms. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“You had us worried, Mikey,” Jack was saying. “I was about to hop on a plane to come find you.”

“Don’t do that,” Robby mumbled wetly.

“Well, you weren’t answering your fucking phone,” Jack responded. “Dana was going to put an APB out on you.”

Any other time, Robby would have laughed. Right then, instead, he took a hiccuping breath. He could only imagine what he looked and sounded like.

“Where, uh…where are you, Mike?”

He knew what Jack was thinking. He knew Jack was picturing the worst case scenario. “I’m upstairs,” he answered. “I’m not on the roof.”

Jack let out a sigh of relief. “Good, that’s good. I was scared you’d go there without me. That’s our spot, you know. It’d be rude for you to go without me.”

“Jack, I thought about it.” Robby leaned back again, his face against the cool bedframe again. “I went up to the roof and thought about it.”

“Okay,” Jack said slowly. Robby knew he was probably starting to panic, pacing around his hotel room. “And are you still…thinking about it?”

“No,” Robby replied. “I…I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“That’s very sweet, Mike, but this isn’t about me right now. I need to know if you’re still thinking about hurting yourself. Because if you are, I need you to tell me exactly what room you’re in so I can text Dana. Can you do that for me? Tell me what you’re thinking?”

Robby thought about it, really, honestly thought about it. “I’m not going to hurt myself,” he mumbled. “I think I’m fine.”

“Be honest right now, Michael.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself,” he repeated. “Don’t call Dana.”

“It’s too late for that, babe. I already texted her because believe it or not, she cares about your wellbeing. She just needed to be sure you’re okay,” Jack added softly.

Robby sniffled, eyes closing. He kind of wished Jack had gotten on a plane. He wanted nothing more than to be in his arms right now. He wanted to curl up in a ball, Jack wrapped around him, and feel safe for a while.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Robby hesitated, then he said, “I don’t think I’m okay.”

“Okay. Can you elaborate on that for me?”

Robby took a deep breath. “I feel like I’m drowning. Nothing I do seems to help. I feel like…I feel like I can’t catch my breath. I feel like I’m always one wrong move away from having another panic attack. I thought about stepping off the roof today, and the only reason I didn’t is because I couldn’t do that to everyone here. I don’t feel…I’m not okay.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Jack said. “Do you think you want to talk to someone?”

“I probably should,” Robby replied. “I don’t feel okay, and I’m tired of it. I want to feel better.”

“Yeah, we can do that. I can ask Dr. Phillips for a referral.”

Robby nodded before remembering Jack wasn’t actually there, couldn’t see him. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Anything for you, Mike.”

Robby wiped at tears still clinging to his eyelashes. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a fuckup.”

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” Jack scolded. “You’re not a fuckup. You’re just struggling, but you made a big step by reaching out for help. That’s all that’s important, okay?”

Robby made a disbelieving sound.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? I was an absolute monster after my leg. I don’t know how Michelle handled it.”

“She was always better than either of us,” Robby said.

Jack snorted. “Ain’t that the truth. A true angel, that woman. But my point is, I’ve been in your shoes, felt what you’re feeling. And I’ll be there for you the entire time. I’m gonna give you so much positive reinforcement, you’ll get sick of it.”

Robby smiled weakly. He really, really loved this idiot. “Do I get a gold star every time I express myself?”

“Hell yeah. I’ll give you so many gold stars. You’ll be covered in them. Where’s Robby? Oh, he’s buried under the pile of gold stars.”

For the first time probably all day, Robby chuckled. He didn’t feel okay, his chest still felt tight, but he felt better. Less like he was going to do something stupid at least. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“How’re you feeling now, big guy?”

“Like I just want to go to bed,” Robby admitted.

“Why don’t you head back downstairs, let Dana see you so she stops worrying, and head home?”

“No, I have to…” he trailed off, pulling his phone away to check the time. 7:25pm. “Fuck,” he muttered, scrubbing at his face. The night shift was already there, most likely already in the swing of things because they were professionals while he was upstairs, hiding. “I can’t go back down there,” he said. “I can’t…”

“Babe, you gotta finish your day. It’s gonna be okay. Go find Dana and John, and then go home.”

Robby hesitated, making no attempt to get up.

“I’m gonna hang up the phone now, okay? And I’m gonna call you back in twenty minutes. If you haven’t gone downstairs by then, I’m gonna send Dana up to hunt you down. Copy?”

“Copy,” Robby said weakly.

“Good. I got you, okay? I have your back no matter what. I love you, Michael Robinavitch, no matter how stubborn you are.”

Robby let out a weak chuckle. “I love you too, Jack Abbot.”

When the line went dead, Robby sat there for a few minutes before he took a deep breath. He heaved himself up, a twinge in his back reminding him spending an hour on the floor at his age was a terrible idea. He stood at the door for a long few minutes, shifting from foot to foot, before he steadied himself. He opened the door and headed toward the elevator.

Thursday

Thursday was better. He woke up exhausted, mostly mentally, but he picked up his phone to turn his alarm off and saw the text from Jack.

Good morning to the most gorgeous, wonderful man I know. Call me if you need anything.

Robby smiled, his chest warming. Only one more day, he told himself. One more day, then Jack would be home. He shot off a response, just a heart because he was a little overwhelmed with everything he’d felt yesterday, and rolled out of bed.

He got dressed, and while he was waiting for his coffee, Jack responded with three hearts. Robby rolled his eyes, smiling and shaking his head. What a loser, he thought. He texted back: Why are you up right now?

Just making sure you know how much i love you

No you’re making sure I actually go to work

A pause and then: Why can’t it be both

Robby snorted. He poured coffee into his thermos and gathered the rest of his things. Before he left their home, he sent one more text. I’m good, promise. Go back to sleep. You need all the beauty sleep you can get

He got a middle finger emoji in response, then a kissy face.

Robby steeled himself, took a deep breath, and opened his front door. He could handle one more day.

***

“Sandwiches in the break room,” Perlah announced as she wheeled Myrna around central.

Robby perked up, his stomach growling at the thought of food. He started to get up, halfway out of his chair when Dana caught his eye. She minutely shook her head.

Leaning in closer, she whispered, “Langdon.”

Robby huffed, his mood immediately dipping. “Fuck,” he grumbled, dropping back into the chair. He scowled at the computer.

Langdon was doing his treatment, was doing well according to Mel whenever he overheard her talking about it, and Gloria had promised him his job back (maybe a few steps behind where he’d been, but still a job). Robby, however, was still angry about the whole thing, furious at how stupid Langdon could be, and how stupid he was for not seeing it. He was glad Frank was getting help, but that didn’t mean Robby was ready to face him. It didn’t help that Langdon was still trying to get back in his good graces by doing shit like sending free lunch for everyone.

Honestly, it made Robby angrier.

“I’ll grab you something from the patient cart if you’re hungry,” Dana offered.

He grunted.

She squeezed his arm, giving him a sad smile, before pulling away.

Robby pushed it out of his mind, forced himself to focus on work, and shoveled a granola bar in his mouth when he had a spare minute. He bounced from room to room, helping where he was needed, and tried to keep his temper in check when someone was being particularly difficult.

“I’m okay,” he said, for the umpteenth time that day, not needing to look up from the computer to know Dana was staring at him.

Dana rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you look it.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not a babysitter,” she assured him. “I’m a spy.”

He sighed, hanging his head. Fucking Jack. He knew he should have been suspicious when Jack stopped texting him. He should’ve suspected Dana immediately; her text chain with Jack was half bitching about people and half worrying about Robby. “Tell your boss I’m good.”

She scoffed. “Then I’d be lying.”

He rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. “I miss the days you two couldn’t stand each other,” he grumbled.

(Way back when, when Jack first started at the Pitt, Jack and Dana had gotten off on the wrong foot. Robby to this day didn’t know what happened; Dana told one version while Jack said something completely different. They spent the first year absolutely hating each other, always snapping and biting each other’s heads off. It was the main reason Jack went to the night shift. Then, something happened almost overnight. Robby didn’t know what changed. One day, he’d had to listen to them sniping at each other; the next day, he’d found them giggling to each other.

Considering they’d been very unsubtle about peeking at him while they’d laughed, he’d decided to let it be.)

Dana laughed, waving him off. “You love us.”

“Despite my best judgement.”

“Dr. Robby!” Santos popped up by his side. “Can I present a patient to you?”

***

“You suck,” Robby complained when he answered the phone later that night. “You turned Dana against me.”

Jack only laughed. “Well, I needed someone to be my eyes and ears! You should really be concerned with how easy it was to bribe her.”

Robby huffed, rolling his eyes. He flopped back on the couch, running a hand over his face. “You really didn’t need to,” he said quietly.

“I’m in fucking Arizona,” Jack replied. “I really did need to.”

“Speaking of the lovely desert you’re occupying right now”-Robby paused, smiling a little at Jack’s scoff-”what time’s your flight tomorrow?”

“I land at three pm. You gonna pick me up?”

“Of course. I thought I’d make a big, glittery sign for you.”

“Ah, you really love me. We can have one of those super romantic airport moments. I’ll run and jump in your arms like I’m coming home for war.”

Robby laughed. “You do that, you’re gonna have to wheelchair me home once my back gives out.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, I’m calling me old.”

Jack chuckled. “You’re not old. You’re middle-aged.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better.”

“Middle aged and you get finer every year.”

Robby rolled his eyes, sure Jack would get the sentiment even through the phone. “You’re such a sucker.”

“Some might say I’m a romantic.”

“Who the hell are you being romantic with?”

“Just you, baby. You’re the light of my life. You’re the reason I get up in the morning. You’re-”

“Do you want to get married?” Robby interrupted, startling both of them. He sat up, eyes wide, because what the fuck was that? Where’d that even come from? Sure, he’d thought about it once or twice, but Jack had never mentioned wanting to remarry, and Robby never wanted to pressure him. He was happy with what they had, really. He didn’t need a ring or piece of paper to know he and Jack were it for each other.

“Did you just propose to me?” Jack finally asked. “Over the motherfucking phone?”

Robby blinked, mouth opening and closing. Did he? He kind of did. “I…I think I did.”

“What the fuck, Michael? I come home tomorrow! You couldn’t have waited one day?”

“I didn’t know I was going to,” Robby admitted. “I, uh…I mean, would you want to? Get married?” He’d be fine either way, but now that he was thinking about it, he liked the sound of it. Getting to call Jack his husband sounded like the best thing he’d ever heard.

Jack huffed. “Hold on.” He ended the call, then a second later a video call request popped up.

Robby answered, feeling bashful.

Any insecurity Robby might have had disappeared immediately. Jack was there, grinning at him, big and bright. “Mike, go look in our closet. Come on, big guy, up, up, up.”

Curious, Robby lurched to his feet. He gave Jack a suspicious look, to which Jack responded with a bigger grin, and headed into their bedroom. He flipped the light switch on before approaching their closet. He made a questioning noise once he was there.

“That green bag in the corner? Buried behind the suitcase? Grab that.”

Robby obeyed. The gym bag was army green, bought when Jack was still fresh from the military and still making decisions based on army regulations. It was old and ragged from years of use, but Jack didn’t use it anymore. It should’ve been covered in dust. Robby’s brow furrowed at how not-dust covered it was.

“Open it.”

He opened the bag, digging around until his fingers nudged against soft. He frowned, grasping the object and pulling it out. He blinked, surprised, at the small black box that now sat in his hand. “Jack…”

“Open it,” Jack repeated.

With shaking fingers, Robby flicked the box open, eyes watering at the sight of the silver band sitting there. He cleared his throat. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve been holding on to that for a while now,” Jack said softly. “I was going to propose on your birthday.”

Robby sniffled, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “Jack.”

Jack smiled. “I should’ve known you’d do things your own way. You always do. But don’t doubt for even a second that I don’t want to marry you. I want nothing more than to be Dr. and Dr. Robinavitch,” he teased.

Robby snorted, even as he swiped at the tears starting to roll down his cheeks. “You’d never change your last name.”

“No, but it’s a nice thought, huh?”

Robby nodded, slowly lowering himself to the floor. He leaned against the door, eyes locked on the ring. “You really wanna marry me?”

“Fuck, yeah. I dream of the day I get to call you my husband. Who’s that guy over there? Oh, that beautiful man over there? That’s my husband.”

Robby grinned, couldn’t help himself. “I want that, too.”

“Good, because you’re insane if you think I’m ever letting you go. And, yes, I mean that in the craziest way possible.”

“You’re insane.”

“Yeah, but you’re marrying me, so who’s the real psycho here?”

Robby chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

Jack hesitated, eyes flickering over Robby’s face. Then, he said, “You know, we don’t have to wait.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Jack cleared his throat, suddenly nervous in a way Robby rarely saw. “New Hampshire doesn’t have a waiting period.”

Robby’s eyebrows shot up. “Why do you know that?”

“Excuse me for doing research, asshole. I changed my mind; I don’t want to marry you anymore.”

“No!” Robby laughed. “Tell me about New Hampshire.”

“We could drive up, get married same day. I’ve already done the whole wedding thing, and I know you don’t care. But if you want to wait, we can. I just want to marry you. I don’t care when.”

“I like the sound of that,” Robby said. “New Hampshire, I mean.”

“Hold on.” Jack shifted, his phone pressed against his chest for a second before he reappeared, eyes focused on something off screen. “I’m looking at flights.”

“Flights?”

“Well, if I get home at three tomorrow, we’ll be too late. We’d have to wait for the next time our days off lined up, which isn’t for a while if I remember right.”

“Two weeks from now,” Robby confirmed.

“So, we can wait, but right now I’m looking at a red eye flight that’ll have me in New Hampshire by eight am. And would you look at that? A flight from Pittsburgh to Concord that’ll land around the same time. We meet at the airport, get a rental car, and head to the courthouse. We’ll be married by tomorrow night.”

That sounded insane. Absolutely, batshit crazy. “It sounds perfect.”

Jack beamed. “Great. I’m booking the flights, and I’ll send you the details. Pack a bag, baby. We’re getting hitched tomorrow.”

Friday

Robby rocked on his heels, scanning the airport. Jack’s flight had already landed, but Robby had yet to see that familiar curly, gray head. He pulled his phone out, but there were no messages from Jack. He sighed and scanned baggage claim again.

He couldn’t believe he was there, waiting in a New Hampshire airport. They were getting married today, if everything worked out. He was still in shock about that. Not that he doubted it; he knew Jack was it for him, and he didn’t doubt their decision in the slightest. He just couldn’t believe it was real. They were really doing this.

Dana was going to fucking kill them.

Robby scanned the area again. Where the fuck was Jack?

There.

Robby immediately made a beeline for him, a smile gracing his face. It’d been a long fucking week, and Robby was beyond glad to see his partner. His fiancé. He wanted nothing more than to fall into Jack’s arms. He approached Jack from behind, leaning over to whisper in his arm, “Hey, stranger.”

Jack startled, whirling around, eyes wide. “Hey, Robby. I thought your flight was delayed.”

Robby did exactly what he’d wanted: he wrapped Jack into a hug, arms tight around him, and fell into the hug. He sighed when Jack returned the embrace, holding him tight. They stood like that for a few minutes, just breathing each other in, before Robby sniffled and pulled away. He pressed a quick kiss to Jack’s lips. “I missed you,” he mumbled.

Jack smiled at him before pressing a firmer kiss to his mouth. “C’mon,” he said. He pulled away, let his arms drop, but he grabbed Robby’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He tugged Robby toward the rental car counter.

***

About an hour later, Robby sat in an uncomfortable chair, leg bouncing nervously. The courthouse was busy for a Friday morning, and the registrar had told them it might be a couple hours before they could get married.

They’d filled out the paperwork, both eager, and now they were sitting in a couple of chairs in the corner, arms pressed against each other. It kept Robby grounded, sure this was reality instead of the best dream he’d ever had. He sighed happily, reaching out to take Jack’s hand.

Jack squeezed his hand. “You good?” he asked quietly.

Robby nodded. “I’m happy,” he replied. He shifted, something in his pocket poking at him awkwardly. “Oh, hey. Open your hand.” He shifted, reaching his free hand into his pocket. He pulled out the silver ring Jack had bought for him and dropped it into Jack’s waiting palm. “So you can give it to me right.”

Jack grinned, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Can’t wait to see this on you,” he mumbled, kissing him again.

Robby smiled into the kiss, then pulled away. “I didn’t buy you one,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure…”

“If I wanted a new ring?” Jack guessed.

Robby nodded. He’d loved Michelle, was a part of the Abbot family due to her persistence, and he didn’t want to take the reminder of her away from Jack. “I don’t care,” he told him. “Really. If you want to keep it, I’m fine with it.”

Jack tilted his head. “When I decided I wanted to marry you,” he started, “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but I think it’s time. I know you don’t care, and I love you for that, but it’s time to let go a little.” He curled his fingers around the ring in his palm, rubbing his thumb over the metal. “When we get home, I’d like it if you gave me a ring.”

“Yeah?”

A nod. “Yeah. And this one”-he wiggled his left hand-”can go on my other hand. I don’t think I’m ready to let go completely.”

Robby nodded, leaning forward to kiss him gently. “I think she’d like that.”

Jack’s grip on his hand tightened. “Thank you,” he whispered, tilting his head forward for another kiss.

***

Jack hummed into the kiss, one hand gripping the back of Robby’s neck, the other holding tight to Robby’s hip. He tugged Robby as close as he possibly could, every inch of their bodies pressed together. Robby felt dizzy with want. He wanted to crawl into Jack and just live there. He felt desperate.

“Mm, Jack,” he mumbled, trying to pull his head back.

Jack chased after him, crowded him against the door as Jack pressed in for another kiss. His fingers dipped down beneath Robby’s waistband. Robby didn’t put up much of a fight. He relaxed into the door, opening his mouth so he could lick into Jack’s mouth. He buried a hand in Jack’s hair, tugging roughly, smirking a little when Jack groaned.

“We’re in the hall,” Robby reminded him once Jack let him breathe. His breath hitched when Jack bit lightly at his pulse point.

“Mm-hm,” Jack responded before he licked up Robby’s neck.

“Fuck,” Robby groaned, dropping a hand to Jack’s shoulder, fingers digging in. “Jack, no, wait.” He turned his head away, his resolve weakening when Jack pulled him close, grinding against him. It was only when Jack’s hand started to drift to the front of his pants, fingers fumbling over his button, that Robby managed to pull together enough strength to push Jack away.

Jack was flushed, hair wild from Robby’s fingers, panting heavily, pupils blown.

“Fuck,” Robby muttered, closing his eyes to remove the temptation. “Key, Jack. Where’s the key?”

“What key?”

Robby put a hand on his chest when Jack started to lean in again. “We’re not fucking out here, Jack Abbot.”

Jack blinked at him. “Why not?”

“Well, one, this floor is probably filthy, and two, I don’t really want to film a sex tape today.”

Jack started to smirk at that. “Does that mean you’d be open to making one some other day?”

“Absolutely fucking not. Now, come on, Dr. Abbot-Robinavitch. Open the door.”

A grin and then, “We’re not hyphenating.” Jack dug through his pockets, unsure where he’d put the hotel room key because of how distracted he’d been by Robby. “Aha! Got it!” He nudged Robby out of the way so he could swipe the key. As soon as the light turned green and beeped, Jack was yanking Robby through the door.

“My husband,” he said, practically pouncing on Robby as the door swung shut. He wrapped himself around Robby as much as he could, one arm hooked around his waist while the other hand started unbuttoning Robby’s shirt.

“Eager,” Robby teased. He understood, though. He was just as eager, wanted nothing more than to fall into bed with Jack. He wanted to be naked with Jack for the first time in a week. He knocked Jack’s hand away. “Get undressed,” he instructed. He slapped Jack’s wandering hand away. “No, hey, this’ll go quicker if you don’t help.”

Jack huffed but listened. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, eyes locked on Robby the entire time, and shucked his pants. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes finally leaving Robby’s newly revealed skin in order to take care of his leg.

Robby bit his lip. He loved watching Jack like this. He knew everything Jack had been through, knew how resilient it made Jack, and he loved seeing the proof that Jack was a strong, stubborn bastard. They never would’ve met if Jack wasn’t as strong as he was, and he was grateful for that.

“Stop staring at me,” Jack grumbled without any heat.

“Stop looking like that,” Robby countered, throwing his shirt at him.

Jack chuckled as he finished with his leg, propping it up by the nightstand. He shifted back on the bed, shimmying out of his briefs as he went.

God, he was fucking beautiful. Robby couldn’t believe he got to have him forever.

Jack, grinning, jerked himself once. “C’mon, big guy. What’re you waiting for?”

“A written invitation,” Robby joked, but he continued undressing. He yanked his pants and boxers down, almost falling on his face trying to get his foot free. He grinned sheepishly, but even Jack laughing at him couldn’t kill his buzz right then. Once he was free of his clothes, he knelt on the bed.

Jack shot forward and grabbed his Magen David, gently guiding Robby over to him. He grinned wickedly as he settled back against the headboard, tugging Robby until he was in Jack’s lap. “You’re my husband,” Jack mused, dropping the necklace to let his fingers trail down Robby’s chest. “I get to keep you.”

Robby nodded frantically. “You’re my husband,” he echoed. He tilted his head for a kiss, gasping when Jack grabbed his hip and yanked him down, their cocks brushing. “I missed you,” Robby breathed, grinding his hips down. Jack felt so fucking good against him, under him, around him. Jack made him feel sexy and desirable. Jack made him feel safe and loved and cared for.

“I got you, baby,” Jack muttered, wrapping his hand around both of their dicks.

“Oh, god.” Robby fell forward, pressing a messy kiss to the corner of Jack’s mouth. He panted, hand gripping Jack’s shoulder, as Jack squeezed them just right, his thumb grazing Robby’s slit. “Jack,” he whined.

“I got you,” Jack repeated, tilting his head up for a real kiss. He deepened it, rolling his tongue into Robby’s mouth. Robby whimpered, lost in the sensations: Jack’s tongue in his mouth, Jack’s hand on his dick, Jack’s free hand creeping around his waist, settling at the base of his spine.

“Mm, Jack,” Robby panted. He nipped at Jack’s lip as he pulled back. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah, okay, baby.” Jack kissed him again, a slow, deep kiss. “My bag. Grab my bag.”

Robby forced himself to pull away, missing Jack’s warmth immediately, and flopped on the bed, stretching as far as he could for Jack’s bag. Just as his fingers grasped the handle, he gasped suddenly, hips grinding back almost instinctively. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide.

Jack grinned back at him before he licked over Robby’s hole again.

“Motherfucker,” Robby moaned, fingers slipping off the bag.

Jack slapped him on the ass once before shifting back. “Chop, chop. I wanna fuck my husband.”

Robby glared, trying to get himself under control. “I hate you,” he grumbled, stretching forward to snag the bag. He pulled it closer and unzipped it. He sat up triumphant, a bottle of lube in his hand. “No condom?” he asked, tossing the lube to Jack before crawling back to him.

“There’s one in the other pocket, if you want,” Jack replied. “How do you want it?”

“I wanna ride you.” Robby grinned as he settled over Jack, swooping down to give him a needy kiss. He sat up, straddling Jack’s hips, and trailed a hand down Jack’s stomach. “I fucking love your abs.”

“The sentiment is returned, I assure you.” Jack settled on his back, one hand tucked behind his head. He used his other hand to trace a finger down Robby’s chest, flicking his nipple roughly before continuing down. “You gonna do all the work?”

“You’re so fucking lazy,” Robby griped.

“You got my number, baby,” Jack teased.

Robby huffed, shaking his head, as he snagged the lube. He poured it messily over his fingers before dropping it off to the side. He loved when Jack fingered him, it was an event all on its own, but right now, he just wanted Jack in him. He didn’t want any of Jack’s teasing or edging. He reached behind himself, his breath hitching when he pushed the first finger in.

Jack craned his head, trying his best to see, and groaned at the sight. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said.

“We’re married; you have to say that.” Robby added another finger, probably too soon, but when he felt his wedding ring, cold against his skin, it shot a sense of desperation through him.

“Don’t start with me,” Jack warned. His hand drifted around Robby’s waist, his fingers ghosting over Robby’s skin, sending shivers up his spine, before it settled on Robby’s ass, his finger ghosting over Robby’s rim.

Robby moaned. “Don’t distract me.”

Jack threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He pulled his hand away, settling both of them on Robby’s waist. “Please, continue. I promise to behave.”

“Liar.” Robby grinned, then hissed when he added a third finger. He was at the wrong angle to find his prostate, but he felt like he could come anyway. He panted, fucking his fingers in a couple more times before pulling out. He shuffled over Jack, reaching for the lube.

“Woah, hey, no, that was not-”

“Shut up, Jack.” He dripped some lube over Jack’s cock, pumping him a couple times. He grinned at Jack’s groan, his back bowing to chase the pleasure, and lined himself up. “We’re married,” he said again before he worked himself down.

Jack’s body was tense, trying to hold himself still while Robby adjusted. He stared up at Robby, green eyes dark and wide, hands tight on Robby’s waist. “Baby, you feel fantastic,” he panted. “You’re gorgeous. I can’t believe you married me.”

Robby nodded absently, focused on not coming right away. When he felt less like he was about to embarrass himself, he took a deep breath. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Okay.” He pressed his hands against Jack’s chest for leverage, careful not to press too hard, and started to move. He was slow at first, just rolling his hips, trying to let it build, but he made the mistake of looking down. He saw his hand on Jack’s chest, the silver bright against both of their skins, and he felt almost lightheaded with how hot it was. Soon he was fucking himself in earnest, rising up as much as he could on his increasingly wobbly legs before dropping back down.

Jack braced his foot on the bed, trying to get leverage to meet Robby’s thrusts.

“Fuck, right there,” Robby breathed. His eyes went hazy, too lost to focus on anything except Jack and how fucking good Jack felt. He felt heat curling in his stomach, so close to the edge. “Jack,” he panted.

“I got you, Mike.” Jack gripped Robby’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts.

Robby’s hips started to stutter, trying to chase after his orgasm. One rough jerk from Jack on his dick at the same time as a strong thrust from him, and Robby was done, gasping Jack’s name as he spilled over Jack’s fist and chest.

The world tilted then, Jack slipping out of him as Robby was flipped onto his back. Jack didn’t waste any time; he guided himself back in, setting a pounding pace. He leaned forward, hands on either side of Robby’s head, and ducked his head, pressing sloppy kisses to whatever part of Robby he could reach.

Robby wrapped his leg around Jack’s thigh, an arm around his back. He was nearing the edge of overstimulation, but he could hold out a little longer. Jack was almost there. He combed his fingers through Jack’s hair, just holding on.

Jack tipped forward, panting into Robby’s collarbone as he gave one, two more hard thrusts and then groaned. He rocked his hips, grinding in as much as he could, as he came. “Fuck,” he grumbled into Robby’s skin.

Robby grinned and pressed a kiss to Jack’s temple. “You sure know how to show your husband a good time,” he joked. He dropped his leg from around Jack, already starting to feel a familiar ache.

Jack snorted before he lifted his head. “A good fucking wedding night, huh?”

“Yeah,” Robby answered, tugging his head up so Robby could kiss him.

Jack kissed him languidly, shifting to slide his softening dick out of Robby. They stayed like that for a few minutes, bodies pressed together, kissing like they had all the time in the world. When Jack pulled back, he smirked. “Can you walk or do I need to reattach my leg?”

“And you’ve killed the moment.” Robby shoved him off, smiling despite himself at Jack’s cackling. He got to his feet, ignoring Jack’s snicker when he wobbled a bit, and made his way to the bathroom for a washcloth.

Later, after they’d showered, they laid in bed, Jack curled up behind him, arm slung over his waist. Robby, tired but happy for once, tapped his fingers on Jack’s arm. “Hey,” he whispered, tilting his head to see as much of Jack’s face as he could.

Jack hummed, eyes closed.

“Thanks for today,” Robby whispered. “And for everything.”

Green eyes flickered open. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

Robby shrugged. “I know I’m not easy to deal with sometimes.”

“Neither am I.”

“But-”

“But nothing. You’re amazing, and I love everything about you. Even the difficult parts.” Jack leaned forward to press a lazy kiss to the corner of Robby’s mouth. “Go to sleep.”

Robby turned his head around and shuffled back against Jack. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. No, he wasn’t okay; he was struggling, and this brief day of happiness didn’t negate that. But he was going to change things. He was going to go to therapy and try to feel this way more often than occasionally. And with Jack by his side, for the first time, that thought didn’t scare him. He was ready to face whatever came his way.