darksparklesficrecs

[darksparklesficrecs]

The decision to have a second child with Robby isn't an easy one.

You both want to. Your first baby was and still is your biggest blessing; you would never regret them, and there wasn't a moment when you didn't think about having another baby. At least two children. Three, if you felt like you could survive not sleeping for over 12 consecutive years.

But your first pregnancy had been so difficult for you, you had doubts.

Well, Robby had doubts.

During your first trimester, you were barely able to drink water before wanting to throw up. Dana recommended some anti-nausea medication, and Robby decided to pick up the least amount of shifts he could to make sure you were okay, always by your side, and just right behind you as you collapsed on the tiled floor.

Your second trimester was a bliss, full of cute pictures, early maternity shoots, and an intimate gender reveal where Robby cried his eyes out after finding out he was gonna become a girl dad. Endless purchases and moodboards for the nursery. You couldn't ask for anything better.

Then, the third trimester came, and with that, the early-onset preeclampsia.

You spend most of your days in bed now, just standing up to go to the bathroom, and even then, you're being looked after when you walk, even for a few steps. When you are close to 34 weeks, you both decide to admit you to the hospital for monitoring, and Robby feels so much better knowing you're only a few floors away.

That's why he looks so stressed, speaking to Dana about how you both want it, but you might consider adoption to avoid putting you at risk once more. Javadi is close by, and before she can stop herself, she opens her mouth to speak.

"Dr. Robby, did you know that 13% of preeclampsia cases are attributed to paternal factors? There's this study that says that while women's genetics are the most important, if the father was born from a pregnancy with preeclampsia. It's generally attributed to 13% from the father, there's another..."

"Hey, crash! I need your help!" Santos interjects, pulling her by her sweatshirt and dragging her away against her will.

Robby stands still next to Dana, who isn't sure if she should kill Victoria just yet. He pauses, tries to find something to say.

"Is that true?" he asks.

"What's true?" Samira joins the conversation, a tablet in her hand. "Mr. Murphy is ready for discharge."

"Javadi just said preeclampsia can be attributed to paternal factors," he says, his tone is almost sarcastic.

"Oh, yeah. There are a lot of new studies about that, also about how paternal diet, mental health, and exercise habits can have an impact on a pregnancy. There's also a greater risk of a premature birth if the father is over 45, so..."

The rest of the conversation and the day go by in a blink. Robby goes home defeated. And there you are, the TV is on, but you're fast asleep with your baby girl on your chest. He smiles, and for a moment, he forgets about the thing that almost made him spiral.

You wake up 30 minutes later. He's cleaning, and you're sure there's a new load of laundry already in the washer. You want to stand up, but your baby is just so comfortable there, you don't wanna wake her up.

"Good morning, love," he says when he walks back into the room. He leans in, careful enough not to disturb his daughter, and kisses you softly. "I missed you two."

"Thank god you have the weekend off," you whisper. "She didn't take a nap today."

"Well, she's almost one. She wants to conquer the world, but her body isn't letting her. Now that she's walking, she'll be unstoppable."

He sits next to you, and even as careful as he is, your baby wakes up. Her bright eyes open, Robby immediately grabs her from your chest and pulls her onto his.

"Show daddy your new shirt, baby," you say. She's still sleepy, but immediately cries when she is far away from you. She cries and tries to crawl back to you immediately. "This kid, she wouldn't even let me go to pee for two seconds."

She sits up on your lap, and it's only then that Robby pulls down her shirt to see it. His hand stays there, frozen, as he reads the words over and over again. He feels like choking up. It's like you're both back in your old apartment, cramped in the tiny bathroom as you wait for the pregnancy test results.

Best Big Sister.

He doesn't know how long it takes him to turn to you, but there you are, holding a pregnancy test that says "Pregnant. 3-4 weeks". You're crying, and he doesn't know when he started crying with you.

"Surprise!" you whisper, choked up. "I guess it's happening."

He kisses you again, this time he takes his time, despite how much your daughter babbles and screams. Just for a second, he kisses you like the world is about to end in just a moment.

"I guess it is."

Nothing matters, just for a second. It's just him, you and your little family.

© CARMENLIKEME 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

[darksparklesficrecs]

Summertime [B. F.]

Bob Floyd x fem!reader

wc: 1k

summary: Rooster and Hangman spot a mysterious woman… who turns out to be already taken.

“Hey, Rooster. Hottie at 12 o’clock.”

Jake's voice broke the euphoria of the moment. Bradley was energetically celebrating a perfect pass he'd just thrown to one of his teammates, capping off an intense round of the improvised beach game. The sun was blazing high, the clear sky seemed to melt onto the sand, and the waves crashed in a slow rhythm as the pilots—sweaty, wet, and covered in sand—ran back and forth amid shouts, laughter, and tanned bodies.

“That fatso?”

“On my 12, idiot,” Hangman replied in annoyance, rolling his eyes. “Turn to your left.”

Bradley obeyed, curious. And then he saw her: leaning elegantly against the railing of the beach cabin, a woman observing the scene. The wind gently ruffled her hair, and the sun cast golden glints on her exposed skin. She wore a simple bikini top, denim shorts, and a light white robe that barely covered her back. Hanging over her shoulder was a jute bag adorned with a colorful scarf tied to the handle.

“I think for the first time we agree, Hangman.”

They both stood motionless, watching her from a distance as if the world had slowed down. She seemed to be searching for something—or someone—in the crowd, her face turning intently while her sunglasses obscured her intentions.

“What do you think she's here for?” Rooster asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Maybe she just wanted to see a bunch of shirtless machos," Jake replied with a crooked smile. "I hope so, man. Because that doll looks like something out of a damn dream."

As if she'd heard them, the woman raised her hand in their direction, greeting them with a broad, bright smile. They looked at each other, puzzled.

“She’s waving at us. Wave back!” Brad ordered, nudging the blond.

They both raised their hands enthusiastically, thoughtlessly using that charming smile that had worked so often for them. But just when they thought they'd captured her attention, a third player entered the scene: someone was running from the side toward the woman, with determined steps.

“Bob? Does he know her?”

“So it seems”

Floyd approached her urgently, his smile widening with every stride. He didn't even let her descend the cabin steps: from his lower position, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground in a surprise hug. She let out a loud, genuine laugh that pierced even the sound of the waves.

“Maybe it's his sister or something,” Hangman suggested, still trying to grasp a reasonable idea.

But the illusion shattered in seconds. As soon as Bob placed her on the ground, he leaned down and kissed her with such confidence that it left no room for interpretation. She responded with the same intensity, wrapping her arms around him as if they'd been searching for each other for centuries.

“Well, unless incest is seen as a good thing in Lemoore…” the black-haired man began, “I don’t think she’s his sister.”

They both froze, watching the scene with a mixture of amazement and envy. Bob's arms settled naturally around the woman's waist, while she took off her sunglasses to get a better look at him.

She spoke animatedly, gesturing with her hands and smiling with every sentence. Although they couldn't hear the conversation, it was clear they were in their own world. When she wasn't speaking, she rested her hands on Bob's chest, with a familiarity that was impossible to fake.

When it was his turn to speak, she looked at him with such devotion that even from a distance, the intensity was palpable. Her eyes practically glowed, her expression screaming a deep crush. Just a few girls had ever looked at them like that in their lives.

Bob's index finger pointed in the direction of the beach, as if he were telling her about his crewmates, and she waved her hand in that direction again.

“I think she’s actually waving at us now.”

“I hope so. Say hi, idiot.”

The two of them repeated the gesture, this time with some nervousness. To their surprise, she waved again. She laughed at something Bob whispered to her and then turned her attention back to him, caressing his face before stealing another kiss. Small, soft, close together. He placed one more on her cheek before taking her hand and starting to walk toward the beach.

“Don’t run away, coward”

“I wasn’t planning to” Rooster replied, though he was lying. The step he took back had given him away.

They stayed where they were, waiting. Bob and the girl finally approached.

“Huh, have you seen Maverick? I need to talk to him.”

“I think he’s sitting in his lounge chair… or something,” Jake replied vaguely. Then he looked at her with interest “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“Sure. Guys, this is my wife. Honey, this is Lieutenant Jake Seresin and Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

They both stood with their mouths ajar, trying to process what he had said. They wondered if they had heard wrong, but sure they hadn't. 

“Nice to meet you,” she said with a smile, extending her hand. “I’m sorry to burst in like this. I wanted to surprise Bob. I hope my arrival doesn’t interrupt anything important.”

“Not at all,” Rooster said quickly. “It’s a pleasure to meet Mrs. Floyd.”

The pilots glanced at each other and couldn't help but notice the slight blush they both—she and Bob—shared, as if the expression 'married couple' still sounded new and shiny to them. 

“Let’s go find Mav. See you later,” Bob said, before leading her by the hand.

“Bye, Bobby” 

“Nice to meet you,” Rooster added.

They waited until the couple had walked a few steps away before spilling their guts.

“His wife? Can you believe it?”

“Of course. The guy is a true gentleman. I'm sure he won her over on the first date.”

“The world is so unfair,” Jake hissed. His friend laughed, resigned.

“Or we are idiots”

“Rooster, I think, for the first time, I completely agree with you too.”

taglist: @littlemsbumblebee

[darksparklesficrecs]

It Means Family (Dr. Jack Abbot x FemNurse!Reader) Oneshot

Based on this request from @pear-1206 : Jack Abbot x fem reader. She had a younger brother (you can give him a name if you want) who is a bit skeptical toward Jack since he's very protective of her. She had been his guardian since their parents died and he was practically being raised at the Pitt by everyone. Jack is friends with her and helps her with everything until their feelings change toward each other. He accepted Jack as his sister's bf but still held his opinion because he didn't want to see her hurt. After some time, Jack knew that he wanted to marry her and wanted her brother's permission. Maybe a series of attempts of Jack trying to gain it and the boy just messing up with him😆😆. Maybe after he's given it, she asks her brother to handoff her at her wedding. Maybe you can do it in two parts or just a long one shot. Either way, it's up to you. Suggestive, friend to lovers, kisses, etc. Ask me if anything. Tag me later!!! Thanks!!! :))? (I hope I did okay!)

~~~~~~

He had been there the night you got the call.

You wouldn't even have answered it, it had been a crazy night, but after the fifth time your phone vibrated in your pocket you got a sick feeling in your stomach.

You had dropped to the floor in the middle of the ED, your vision blurred, heart rate pounding in your ears. Blurred images of Lena and Ellis running your way, then Jack appeared.

Through your blurry vision and ringing ears you could almost see him, almost hear him saying your name. "Tell me what's wrong."

"They're gone..." It didn't sound like you talking, more like an echo, someone elses voice. "They're gone."

Then it was bereavement leave, a long flight to Honolulu, two coffins, a twenty one gun salute and a folded flag. A house on base you had 48 hours to pack up and clear out. A kid brother well over a decade younger than you that just had the whole world fall out from under him.

Night shift changed to day shift, late nights out with friends changed to school drop offs. Everything changed.

If you had worked anywhere else you weren't sure you would have made it through the first year. Lena, Dana, Bridget and Perlah, every one of them a Godsend. Without them, without Robby, and Cassie, Mateo, Princess, Frank and his wife, without them you would have drown under the weight of all of it.

You had loved night shift, but there was no way to keep that schedule and take care of your brother. You loved Robby, he was a great attending to work with, a great chief, but he wasn't Jack.

It didn't take long for you to start finding reasons to show up early if you could, or stay a little late, just to be on Jacks shift even for a few minutes. He never made a big deal about it, but he did always take the time to check in. If you were okay, if Marcus was doing ok, if you needed anything. "If either of you need anything, don't ever hesitate to ask. Okay?" There was no doubt in your mind that he meant it.

~~~~~~

"Did it hurt?"

"Yeah bud, it hurt. Still does some days." Jack had his pantleg pulled up and Marcus was staring intently at the titanium and fiberglass that made up Jack's prosthesis.

"Marcus!" You hissed at him across the counter.

"He's fine." Jack had turned to look at you over his shoulder with a smile, "Just curious. Nothing wrong with that."

"Sissy, have you seen Dr Jacks fake leg?" Your little brother looked up at you from his seat on the floor, eyes wide.

You had to try not to flush from the embarrassment, "Yeah Marc, I've seen it. It's called a prosthesis though, not a fake leg. Okay?"

Your brother nodded, fumbled over the word, "Prosthesis." He nodded again, "Can I touch it."

"Marcus!" You thought you'd drop dead.

Jack just busted out in a laugh.

"Go grab your stuff out of the breakroom, please." You pointed towards the door, "We need to go." Once Marcus was gone you through a pleading look at Jack, "Dr Aboot, I am so sorry."

He stood up, shook his head with a smile, "Don't be, he's fine. Just wants to know how stuff works is all."

You gave him an apologetic smile and changed the subject, "How's night shift been?"

"We get by, not the same without you though."

"Oh I'm sure." You laughed it off but it spiked your heart rate none the less.

~~~~~

It had felt silly at first. The little crush you had always harbored for Dr. Abbot. Not in any gross or even serious way really. Just... appreciation.

You thought that it would fade after everything and with the switch to days, but instead it seemed to have magnified it. Every moment no matter how brief now had your stomach spinning and your heart racing. You lived for the little moments between shifts and had finally started to admit to yourself that you had started to seek them out. Not just to visit, to catch up with your old team mates, but because it felt good. Exilerhating.

That particular night though, you hadn't meant to see Jack. Honestly you hadn't wanted to see anyone. You had parked yourself on a bench outside the ER, grateful at first that Dana had let you slip out a little early. Then the heaviness had settled over you.

Abbot had seen you, stood and watched for a moment from the ambulance bay before heading towards you. He approached cautiously and his voice was soft, "Hey, everything okay?"

Your stomach dropped. Embarrasment, guilt, something else. "Yeah, yeah, just... needed a minute I guess."

He stared at you. Nothing new. Then he glanced at his watch and the hospital then back to you. His bag thudded on the sidewalk and he groaned softly as he settled into the bench beside you. "Want to try that again? More convincing this time?"

The laugh tasted sour, "Everything's totally fine!" You hadn't realized you had felt like crying until just then.

Jack nodded, a slim smirk at your attempt. "Where's Marcus?"

"Perlah's mom picked him up and took them over for a sleepover."

He nodded again, "That's good. Boys'll have fun."

You nodded in return and swiped at your eyes. "He talked about it all night last night, all morning."

Jack leaned his elbows on his knees and turned to try and catch your eye. "So, want to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't..." You choked out another laugh, "I would if I knew. I don't even know. How stupid is that? I just feel..."

"Exhausted? Alone? Like maybe you don't want to go home to an empty house?"

You turned to look at him so fast it made him chuckle.

"I recognize that look. I know it well."

"How stupid is that?"

"Not at all."

You were both quiet for a long moment before you added, "I don't know how I ended up here. I don't know what I'm doing. I just..."

"You're doing great. Marcus is a good kid. Just need to take care of yourself too." Jack finished for you with an encouraging grin. "Go home and enjoy your night off. Drink too much, watch trashy TV, stay up late." He smiled a little wider at your chuckle. "Or go do something, go out while you have the chance."

You laughed again, harsh and still a little rough, "Go out? You're funny."

Jack grinned a little wider, "Well then go home, enjoy your night off." He stood up and grabbed his bag and then grabbed yours too. He held it out to you and used your grip on the bag to pull you to your feet. Once you finally looked him in the eye, still fighting back the tears, his smile softened slgihtly. There was something else behind it though.

"Next time you have the night to yourself, I'll take you out."

The expression on his face never changed, he just held your gaze, nodded after a moment and then gave you a quick wink before turning away and heading into the ED.

For several long moments you stood there, watching Dr Abbot walk across the street, totally taken off guard.

~~~~~

Before dinner with Jack you thought were going to have a panic attack. You'd paced your apartment, made Marcus and the sitter both stare at you oddly, came up with a dozen excuses to cancel. You only came up with one reason to follow through though; you really, really wanted to.

After dinner with Jack you couldn't even begin to remember any of the reasons you had panicked. When he stopped you a few feet short of your door and pulled you into a kiss you thought you were going to pass out. Your head spun so fast all you could do was hold onto him and hope he could keep you on your feet. Of course he did, strong arms holding you close and keeping you steady. He chuckled against your lips when a little moan escaped and you flushed with embarrassment as he pulled away to look at you.

"Not gonna lie, I've wanted to do that for a long time." He cracked a smile and studied your face as his hands smoothed over your waist.

When you could think straight you nodded, eyes stuck on his lips, "You should have done it sooner."

Jack chuckled again as he settled his lips back over yours and walked you the last few feet to your door. "I'll make it up to you, if you let me."

You moaned again and your grip on his shoulders tightened. You glanced over your shoulder at the door, conflicted, but Jack grabbed your chin and pulled you back to look at him.

He gave you a quick kiss and shook his head, "Not tonight hon." Another longer kiss, and he kept his voice low, "He's gonna have a bunch of questions if I walk in there right now."

"He always has a bunch of questions." You laugh and lean your forehead against his shoulder.

Jack wraps his arms around you fully and chuckles, breath warm against your ear. "Yes he does." He dropped a kiss there, and then selfishly dropped a longer, heated one against the side of your neck. Not pulling away until you shivered and pushed him back. Eye to eye again he gave you that look, the one you knew and loved so well, "We'll figure it out."

You nodded, smiling, heart racing, "Yeah we will."

~~~~~

"How old are you?"

"So old."

"Have you seen Lilo & Stitch?"

"I have not."

"Would you let me have a pet alien?"

"That would depend on the alien I guess."

"We lived in Hawaii. Have you been to Hawaii?"

"Once, while I was in the Army. I've even been to the base your Dad was stationed out of."

"Did you see his boat!?"

"I'm not sure, bud."

"Are you missing any other body parts?"

"Just the leg?"

"Are you a vampire?"

"Would I be out in the middle of the day if I was?"

"Can you make cheeseburgers?"

"Awesome cheeseburgers."

"Have you ever had an actual girlfriend before?"

"Yeah bud, I've had a girlfriend before."

"Have you and Sissy kissed?"

"Yes, your sister and I have kissed. More than once."

"Was it gross?"

"Not even a little bit." Jack was enjoying himself way too much as Marcus bombarded him with questions from the backseat of the truck. More specifically Jack was enjoying the way you were slumped against the window hiding your face in your hand trying not to laugh or cry.

"Marcus, I think that's enough questions." You gave Jack a pleading look, silently begging him to shut it down.

"Dr. Jack said I could ask anything I wanted."

Jack smirked at you, eyes hiding behind dark sunglasses, but you knew they were shining with glee at your suffering. "He's right, that's what I said."

"Are you going to make me eat vegetables?"

"Does Sissy make you eat vegetables?"

"Yes." Marcus mumbled.

"Then yes, I'm gonna make you eat your vegetables." Jack reached across the console and grabbed your hand. He gave it squeeze when you finally looked his way you couldn't help but smile. Jack looked over his shoulder at your little brother, "So, when do I get to start asking questions?"

"That's not fair!"

"Oh yes it is and I think it's miy turn."

~

Jack was sitting at your kitchen counter watching you make a cup of coffee, still half asleep. "What's Marcus up to today?"

You sipped the coffee while it was still hot enough to burn, "Perlah took the boys to some action park thing they just built on her end of town, gokarts, mini golf, all that."

"Should be fun. What's that gonna cost you?" Jack smirked, content to watch you wake up and sip your coffee.

"Five shifts in a row. So, they can take a long weekend." You pushed off the counter and came around like you were going to sit in the stool next to Jack.

Instead he grabbed you gently by the hips and pulled you to him, settling you between his legs with his arms around you. "You sure you don't want me to leave you alone? You can just relax today if you need to."

You let out a grumble, the meaning of it not entirely clear, but the way your weight sunk into him Jack took it to mean he should stay right where he was. It feels good to hold you like this. Head on his shoulder, face buried in his neck, and all of your weight against him with no doubt he would hold you up. "Don't know why I'm so tired," You mumbled into his neck, "Feel like I'm the one that worked last night."

Jack squeezed you tighter, "Why don't you go lay down? No reason you can't be lazy for awhile."

You grumble again, your coffee cup gets set on the counter and then you quietly ask, "Come lay down with me?"

For a second Jack froze, a dozen thoughts racing through his mind. He moved his hands back to your hips and just as quietly he whispered into your hair, "Can do that if you want." He dropped a kiss on the crown of your head and had to bite back a smile when you nodded against his shoulder. "Okay, c'mon."

Before you could stand up straight Jack had a hold of the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up to carry you down the hall. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tight and he was pleasantly surprised when you didn't act surprised, didn't argue or give him a hard time. Just let him carry you to bed.

~~~~~

A few hours later you woke up, warm and comfortable, one of Jacks arms under your head like a pillow and the other wrapped around your middle. When you sighed and shifted deeper into his hold, the arm around you tightened and you felt him press a kiss to the back of your head.

"What time is Marcus going to be back?" He sounded like maybe he had nodded off for a bit as well, his voice rough and raw.

"After lunch sometime. Sent them money for pizza." You couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes. Didn't want to do anything that meant you would have to get out of bed yet. Not when Jack was there with you, finally.

He nuzzled into the back of your hair and kissed you again, "Ready to get up?"

You shook your head and shuffled back, just a little closer to Jack, eyes still closed. "Aren't you normally asleep by now?"

Jack just hummed, spread his one hand wide over your torso, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt. "Took a nice nap." His breath was warm and suddenly directly beside your ear. When you shivered and moved to shift your hips back, his hand moved from your stomach to your hip and clamped down, stopping you. "Stay right there." His grip softened, but his hand stayed put.

In an instant your heart began to race, "Why?"

"Because we're cuddling, and it's nice."

You bit your lip, hearing Dr Jack Abbot say 'cuddle' nearly making you giggle. "Feels good."

Behind you Jack chuckled, something a little extra behind it. "Yeah it does." He chuckled again when you tried to move, "Hon, I said stay there."

When the thought finally occurred to you you chuckled with him, "Dr. Abbot, is something wrong?" "

Jesus." His hand on your hip squeezed harder than he'd ever gripped you, "Yes and that's not fucking helping." Jack let out a painful groan when you freed your hand from your blankets to pry his fingers lose from your hip. Not that you had to try very hard, he let you move him easily, pull his arm back around you again and finally shift your hips back flush with his. "Jesus Christ." He breathed out as both his arms caged you against him.

A shudder ran down your spine, his breath against you neck, his lips, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he held you tight and the shameless way he caved in ground his erection against your ass. Another giggle escaped you, this one breathy and unsteady.

"Happy now?" Jack teased as his kissed the back of your neck.

"Yes." You shifted back against him again, testing the waters, and smiling when his breath rushed out him. "What time is it?"

He twisted the arm under you so he could see his watch, "Little after ten."

You took a deep breath, building up the courage, your desire doing a lot of the work for you, "I'm not tired anymore."

Jack had always known you too well, and you were so grateful for that because that was all you had to say for him to snap. His hands moved exactly where he wanted them as he coaxed you to turn your head to kiss him. If the kiss hadn't knocked the wind out of you already his words would have.

"You're gonna be."

~~~~

Jack was still there when Marcus came home, changed from his scrubs into the spare jeans and shirt he kept in his backpack. He'd stayed out of sight while Perlah and you chatted by the door, neither of you quite ready for that round of questioning just yet. Or the dozens that would follow.

Your heart did a little flip in your chest when Marcus lit up upon realizing Jack was there. Your brother immediately began to explain in excruciating detail all the excitement of the adventure park and Jack seemed more than content to listen.

You watched from the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower you had taken after spending the last couple hours of your morning in bed with Jack. Your heart flipped again when you heard Marcus ask, "What are you doing here anyway?" No filter, your brother still had no filter.

Jack threw you a look and the tiniest smirk before he answered, "Came by to see your sister after work. Thought maybe I'd hang out here today and we could go out to eat later. Sound okay?"

"Yeah! Can we go to that steak place again?"

"Marc, we don't need to go someplace quite that nice."

"Why not?" He looked at you a little put out.

Jack turned to look at you again, barely holding back a full on smirk, "Yeah hon, why not?."

You knew your face had betrayed your thoughts, because that smug asshole smiled, actually smiled. "Because it's pricey" You snark back at him even as he makes his way around the counter to come stand behind you.

He sets his hands on your hips and pulls you close, "So?" He pries. Then quieter, just for you he adds, "We're celebrating."

"Stop it." You hissed at him, a flush creeping up your neck. You did your best to ignore the feel of him chuckling behind you and turned your attention back to your brother, "We aren't going anywhere until you finish your homework anyway."

"SIssy… It's Saturday." He dropped himself onto the couch dramatically.

"And we made a deal that you could go this morning and have fun if you promised to finish your homework this afternoon."

"But Dr Jack is here, we can go do fun stuff!"

Jack must have felt your deep sigh because he held you a little tighter and kissed the back of your head. He whispered, "If he get's it done can I take you guys to dinner?"

You hummed in thought and dropped your head back against his shoulder, "Ok Marc, how about you get all your work done, and then maybe we can all go to Saltfork for dinner? Seem fair?"

"Can I have the brownie skillet thing!?" He launched back up off the couch with wide eyes.

Behind you Jack full out laughed and all you could do was pinch the bridge of your nose, "We'll see."

He did a little touchdown dance in the middle of the living room and then sprinted to his room.

Once you were alone Jack turned you around and pulled you closer. Stared into your eyes, smirk still firmly on his face.

"You don't have to bribe him to like you, you know? You're like the coolest person he knows." You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder.

"Maybe I just like spoiling you both a little. Ever think of that?" His one hand slid down to cup your ass and squeeze. "Plus, like I said, we're celebrating." He snorted when you bit his chest through his t-shirt.

"Stop being so smug or it's not going to happen again." You mumbled.

Jack smirked, slipped his hand up and under the back of your shirt, warm against your bare skin, "So, you do want it to happen again?"

For a minute your embarrassment kept you silent, but you nodded and spoke into his shirt, "As often as possible."

That must have made him happy because Jack didn't say anything. He simply tipped your face up to his and kissed you. Deep, long, slow kisses that made your pulse skyrocket.

"Eww. Dr. Jack will you help me with my homework?" Marcus had reappeared.

Jack gave you one last kiss and a wink before he pulled back, "Yeah bud, what d'ya got?" He gave your hip a squeeze and then followed after Marcus as the boy ran back into his room.

~~~~~

"Is Jack going to move in?" Marcus asked one night while it was just the two of you eating dinner in the living room, watching Lilo & Stich. A treat for the both of you, acting like bums after a long week and watching a favorite movie. Even if Marcus swore it was for little kids. Never mind he knew it word for word and had watched it a thousand times.

"Jack has his own house Marc, he owns it. He's not going to move into an apartment with us." You fought down the nerves already spinning in your stomach.

"He's here a lot and normally, if you two had been together this long, you'd be living together. Right?" Marcus was a teenager now and you kind of sort of hated it. Raising your little brother was one thing, quote unquote raising your teenage brother was another game entirely.

Jack had been in Marcus's life for years now in one way or another. First as a friend of yours, then as your boyfriend, now it was clear that Jack Abbot was playing a big part in the young man your brother was becoming.

"Maybe." You pause to sip your drink, buy yourself time, "It's not always that simple though."

Your brother is quiet for a minute, watches the movie and shoves a handful of fries in his mouth. "So, are we going to move in with him?"

A week later he had asked Jack the same question. You had to work so Jack had gone to Marc's baseball game on his own. After the game they'd gone through the drivethru for food and while they waited Marc asked, "Would you want Sissy to live with you?"

Jack had a hell of a poker face, but he still nearly let it slip at that. "What do you mean?"

"If It was just you and her? You'd want to live together right?"

"Where's this coming from?"

"Just curious."

Jack thought for a minute, let the truck roll a few more feet ahead in the line. "Would you want to live with me?" He turned the question on the boy.

Marcus stared out the window, "I'd think it'd be kinda cool I guess."

"Don't think it would be weird?" Jack found himself getting his hopes up.

"Do you know how many times I have to explain to people you're not my Dad, you're my sisters boyfriend? It's already weird."

He couldn't help but laugh. Jack nodded a couple of times, "Fair enough."

~~~~~

In the middle of Jacks living room surrounded by storage totes you stood up to catch your breath and squint across the room at Jack, "Do you ever feel like we've been manipulated by a thirteen year old boy that just wanted a bigger bedroom?"

"Not a doubt in my mind." Jack laughs as he sets another tote down. "But," He closes the distance between the two of you and grabs your hips. Pulling you to him by the waistband of your shorts, "Jokes on him, I'm the one getting what I wanted all along."

You let him kiss you, enjoyed the butterflies in your stomach from making out in the middle of the house that would be your house now, not just his. Then you pulled away, "Have you ever lived with a teenage boy? You might regret this."

"I've lived in barracks." He pulls you back to him with a grin, "I've lived in a canvas tent in the middle of the desert, with twenty other dudes barely old enough to drink with no showers and eating MREs for three meals a day." You grinned along with him, while he made his point. "Think I can handle one thirteen year old boy." He sobered a little, eyes scanning your face, "Especially if it means I get you here in bed with me." Jack kissed you again, intention behind it this time as his fingers traced the waistband of your cutoffs.

When his fingers settled on the button you couldn't help but giggle against his lips, "Supposed to be unpacking." You still let your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers combing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

"You're very distracting." He dropped his gaze down to his hands as they popped the button, "Especially in these fucking shorts." His fingers moved to the zipper, pulling it open so slowly.

"So I should probably get rid of them?" You teased, but it came out breathless and jittery as he walked you back towards the couch.

Jack bobbed his head to the side as he moved to kiss you again, "No, but you should definitly take them off."

~~~~~

The number of times you watched Jack over the years, sit down with Marc and talk about anything and everything. Talk through the loss of your parents, missing out on sports team tryouts, girl troubles, trouble with friends, life in general. From the time he was a young boy and barely knew Jack beyond Dr. Jack, Sissy's friend, Marcus had always seemed to see Jack as a source of knowledge and little to no judgement.

Bad behavior that sent you up the wall was nothing to Jack. A simple conversation or at worst a hard look and it was handled. To the point that you wondered what you would have done without him if it had just been you and Marcus.

Then one night while you were out with friends, something you were finally able to do again, Jack got a call. He nearly didn't answer, because he didn't recognize the number, but he was glad he did.

He didn't speak for a long while when he entered the hallway where Marc and his three friends were sat. He simply stared them all down. When he did finally break the silence, it wasn't the sisters boyfriend Jack that spoke. It was former Army NCO Jack Abbot, Dr Jack Abbot. Stone faced he simply said, "Explain."

To Marc's credit he stood up straight, looked Jack in the eye and told the truth. Something that went a long way.

Jack took him home, the drive long and painfully quiet, and when they got home he sat him down at the kitchen to wait for you to come home.

In bed that night you had stared at the ceiling. "At least it was just a gummy. RIght? And it came from a store."

Jack grumbled next to you. You both had lectured him on how dangerous it was to take any substance when you didn't know what it was for sure or where it had come from. Anyone could say they got it from a friend of a friend that was old enough. "He's a good kid, hon. He's smart. He told the truth and that's what matters I think. Just did a dumb teenager thing."

"Thank you for going and getting him."

"Of course."

You moved closer and cuddled into him, "I'm glad he has you."

~~~~~

One morning later that summer you were getting ready for work, watching Jack in the mirror as he slipped on his running blade.

Like always Jack sensed you, knew what you were thinking before you could say it out loud. "Coach told Marc if he wanted to make JV next year he needs to work harder." He stood up and shifted his weight back and forth on the specialized prosthesis. "So, he wants to start working out with me this summer." Jack came up behind you, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. "We'll see how he feels after today."

"Is it weird I think it's kinda sexy when you put that thing on?" You chuckled as he grabbed your hips.

"Yeah, it's weird." He dropped a kiss to the side of your neck, "I like weird though." You elbow him in the side and he only laughs, smacks your ass, "Have a good day, baby."

While he and Marcus jog around the neighborhood Jack can't help but let his mind wander. Half of him paying attention to Marcus talking about being able to take his driving test soon, and that he would need a car. The other half of his mind though, was occupied with a different conversation he needed to have with your brother.

Jack was a little ashamed to admit it took him the whole three miles to build up the guts to do it. They were walking down the street towards the house, cooling off. "Marc, I want to ask you something."

Your brother was still more than a little winded from the run, which honestly made jack feels a little better about himself, "Okay."

"How would you feel if your sister and I got married?" Just get it over with.

Marcus didn't answer right away, when he did it caught Jack off guard. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? Because we love each other, been together for years, because I want to."

"No, I mean," Marcus sucked in a deep breath, "Like, why now? You said it, you guys have been together for like ever."

Jack rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, had to remind himself that to Marcus it was forever. Nearly half the boys life Jack and you had been together by that point. "Honestly bud, you're old enough now that her life doesn't revolve around you like it used to." Jack had always made a point in his relationship with your brother to be as upfront as possible. "You're older now, more mature. When you were a kid I didn't want to get in the way of you and her. That was more important." He didn't know if that made sense at all, to anyone but him.

Marc nodded as they crossed a street and after a few minutes he finally responded, "Is it alright if I don't know how I feel?"

"Of course it is." Jack stopped at the corner, knew that Marcus would follow his lead, "I love your sister, think you know that, and I love you too. It's important to me that you'd be okay with it."

"So, have you already asked her to marry you or something?"

He shook his head, "No, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. Man to man."

Marcus nodded, "Nothing... nothing would really change right?"

Jack could see that kid in him then, the one that had once upon a time had the whole world ripped out from under him. "Not really. She might take my last name, that would be about it. It'll be easier for her to get my benefits and everything if something happened, but no, life will be pretty much the same."

"If you couldn't marry her? Are you going to get pissed?"

"Don't say pissed, especially around your sister. We'll both get in trouble. No bud, if she doesn't want it I'm not going anywhere."

"So, is this like, if our Dad was alive and you were going to ask for his permission to marry Sissy or something?"

Jack laughed, "Not quite, but sure you can think of it that way if you want."

"What if I said no?"

There was something in the kids eyes that Jack recognized all too well. "Then we're turning around and doing another three miles." Jack shoved him jokingly, "So, don't get a big head."

Marcus laughed as he caught his balance, "I don't know how I really feel about it I guess," He started as the two of them kept walking, "But, I think it would make her happy."

Jack didn't expect the stab of emotion in his chest. "Well, then how about you think on it and we can talk about it again later?"

It took Marc less than 24 hours to come back and tell Jack he thought it would be a good idea and then threaten him that if he broke your heart Jack would have him to deal with. Jack had laughed but nodded, "Understood."

~~~~~~

You had cried when Jack proposed to you, but now you could not quit smiling. Sprawled across his chest you stared at your hand in front of you, the diamond he had put on your finger, smiling.

Jack had one arm behind his head, but his other hand was drawing lazy patterns over your bare back, perfectly content to watch you in that moment. "Maybe I should have asked sooner."

Your eyes snapped back to his, "No, this is perfect." You moved to crawl up to meet him, kiss him, humming happily at the feeling of his two rough, warm hands settling low on your hips and then smoothing up your sides, over your back.

"Yeah?" He asked quietly, lips brushing over yours as he looked up at you, watching you intently.

"Perfect." You lowered more of your weight over him and he wrapped his arms around you, kissed you deeper. "Everything is perfect." You moaned when his hands moved back to your hips, pulling you straddle him. "I'm so happy Jack, you've always made me happy."

Jack nodded, cradled the back of your head and spoke directly against your lips, "Good. That's all I want hon," He paused to kiss you, the love and the meaning behind it bone deep, "Just want to make you happy."

You lost yourselves in it for a moment, kissing and touching eachother, both of you coming to terms with the knowledge that this would be the rest of your life. Jack was finally, officially, going to be a part of your tiny, broken little family. The missing piece that had brought it all together.

Suddenly you laughed, unable to stop it.

Jack grumbled, fingers dug into your hips, "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry." You kissed him, traced his tongue with yours in apology, "I just thought of something."

"Oh yeah?" Jacks eyes were laser focused as you sat up, still straddling his hips, your hands coming to rest on his torso. He let his hands slid down your thighs to rest, "Want to share?"

You bit your lip, "It's slly."

Jack just stared up at you, waiting. "Ohana."

Jack watched you, gently shook his head to say he wasn't tracking.

"Lilo & Stitch?"

Jack furrowed his brow, then shook his head, still confused. Marcus had forced him to watch the with him plenty of times when he was younger. Even still Jack would find the two of you on the couch watching the kids movie. He hadn't really put much thought into it.

"It's us." You shrugged and looked away for a second, "We watched it once, I'd only had Marcus with me for maybe... a month, if even, and I had no idea what to do so we watched movies. Like all the time." You nodded to yourself at the memories, your fingers absently tracing over the lines of muscle and a few scattered scars over Jacks chest and abdomen. "He said one day, ' Sissy! it's us.' and it is. A lost, sad, lonley, little kid, and an older sister just trying to do her best, but has no fucking clue what she's doing. Just trying to do what she can after their parents died. It's even set in Hawaii." You snorted out a laugh, "It's stupid but it was nice at the time, to see that, for both of us I think." You took a deep breath and smiled down at him.

"It means family?" Jack finally nodded, understanding he thought, his hold on you tightening, "It's little and broken, but still good, right? That's what they say?"

You nod, eyes burning again. Jack watches you, his eyes taking in all of you and then the corner of his mouth ticks up, "Does that make me the surfer dude boyfriend? WIth the muscles and the floppy hair that follows her around like a kicked puppy?"

The laugh rips out of you before you can stop it and you smack him across the chest, "I think it does." You're smiling like an idiot again as you stroke your hands over his strong core and chest, trace your fingers over the corded muscles in his arms and then you lean down. One hand combing through the graying curls you loved and your lips brushing over his. "Technically fiance."

~~~~~

It felt strange to be back in Hawaii. The last time you were here was for your parents funeral. So many emotions. You had woke up early, your internal clock messed up, but it gave you an excuse to sit and watch the sky light up over the early morning breakers. Your heart skipped a beat when Jacks arms wrapped around you from behind, his lips brushing over the side of your neck. You dropped your weight back into him, happy to feel him take it easily, keep you standing like he'd always done.

"Second thoughts?" He whispered against your ear, arms wrapped tight around you.

"Not a chance. You're stuck now, no getting out of it."

Jack hummed, a hint of a laugh in it, "Damn." His lips moved down your neck, over your shoulder. He didn't have to see you to know you had rolled your eyes. "Don't have to be up for a long time yet, hon." His hands moved to slip beneath the shirt you had worn to bed.

"Are you telling me to come back to bed?" You couldn't help but smile as you dropped your head back against his shoulder, let yourself enjoy the moment.

"Asking nicely." He chuckled into the side of your neck, "For now.'

"Well," You started, turned in his arms, "Since you asked nicely." You wrapped your arms around Jacks neck and kissed him as you let him take you back to bed.

For a few more hours anyway.

Then he was waiting for you, looking so calm and confident, smiling at you while your heart felt like it was going to rip out of your chest.

Beside you Marcus gave your arm a squeeze, and then he gave you an easy smile. His eyes locked on yours and unwavering. God, there was so much of Jack in him now. The way your brother stood, the way he carried himself, the confidence and certainty on his face as the seventeen year old boy stood in for your father, ready to walk you across the beach and up to the alter.

There had been a time, after that phonecall that had brought you to your knees in the middle of the ED, that you thought your life was over. Far from it you realized, It was just beginning. Sure, maybe your PTMC family was going to be a little annoyed with you when you get back from your "family vacation" and find out you and Jack had eloped, but they'd forgive you. Eventually.

~~ The End ~~

[darksparklesficrecs]

tracing back lucky stars

dr. robby x f!attending!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, infidelity, swearing, angst, usual medical canon events (not much tho), mention of alcoholic parent, other mentions of death, grief, age gap (less than ten year gap) words: 15.4K synopsis: this fic spans over a decade and follows our reader from first meeting robby in a chance interaction in florida as a resident all the way to 2024. all events take place prior to season one. this is inspired by when harry met sally, as requested from one of my beloved anons. lots of will they won't they, robby being oblivious to his own feelings for like ten goddamn years, i guess slow burn ish??? a/n: hi my friends, can't explain just how much fun i had writing this so huuuuuge thank you to the anon that requested it!! i really hope you love it. they will live in my brain space for quite a while i think. title is taken from song lucky stars by haim. as always thank u for being here!! <3 syd

2013 

As you stood at that rental car counter, you decided you hated the south. You hated the way southerners pretended to be nice, but really probably hated your guts. The way they smiled at you and crooned with their syrupy sweet voices that bless your heart, they thought you were a little soft in the head. Everyone always loved to say northerners were assholes, but to you they were just honest. You had infinitely more respect for the guy from Philly who flipped you off in traffic and screamed out his window that you drove like a ninety seven year old lady with glaucoma than the man in front of you who was giving his best Aw Shucks expression as he told you he would not rent his last car to you.

“Ma’am, as I’ve already explained to you, I cannot rent you that car, it’s a manual.”

“And as I’ve already explained to you, Martin, I know how to drive a stick.”

“If that’s true,” He said slowly, “Then why did you select ‘automatic’ for preferred transmission type on the rental form?”

You sighed and let your hands rise and fall loudly with a smack onto the counter, “Because the year is two thousand and thirteen and I assumed that there would be an automatic car available.”

You were running very low on patience after the morning you’d had. After spending the weekend at an emergency medicine conference, you had gotten up at four in the morning to make an early flight back to Pittsburgh. But lovely, beautiful Panama City, Florida had fucked you over from the moment you woke up this morning. 

The hot water in your hotel room had been out and you’d been forced to take an icy shower. You spilt orange juice all over the outfit you planned to wear to the airport and so were forced to instead wear denim shorts that rode just an inch too high. The iced coffee you had made yourself behind schedule to buy before getting to the airport was knocked from your hand by an inattentive cyclist. And you had broken the heel on one of your cowboy boots on your way into the airport. So you hobbled up to bag check only to find out that your flight was cancelled and could not be rescheduled until tomorrow.

You couldn’t wait until tomorrow. You were an R3 and you had a double shift tomorrow and you needed this flight to get back to Pittsburgh at a reasonable hour so you could get whatever sleep possible before reporting for shift. So you really, really needed this fucking car if you had any hope at all of both getting some sleep and making your shift.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m just not comfortable renting you the vehicle. Now, I really need to take care of the next customer–”

“Oh, Jesus, fuck, I’m trying to give you money for a service!” You pushed your credit card and license across the counter, “Please just rent me the car so I can go home!”

“Excuse me,” The voice behind you was rough and warm, and oddly familiar. It took you less than thirty seconds to place him. 

You had listened to him speak at the conference for an hour about how to deliver bad news to patients with the right amount of empathy. You remembered specifically how soothing you had found his voice and found it unsurprising that he would seem so good at delivering bad news. He could probably tell you he had stolen your identity and all money from your bank account and you would thank him.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard you’re also heading to Pittsburgh?” He said to you and then turned to your newly minted nemesis, Martin, “I can drive stick, I could drive us both.”

Well, smooth voice or not, he could get fucked if he thought he was going to steal your rental.

“Excuse me,” You said, turning to the doctor who was way taller in person than you remembered him being on stage, “But you’re not taking my rental.”

“Ma’am, as I’ve said, it’s not your rental.”

“Martin,” You said, your voice high and strained as you whipped your head back towards him, “Could you mind your own goddamn business, please?”

“I— Sorry—“ Doctor Soothing Voice interjected again, “I just, I heard you were going to Pittsburgh and it’s the last rental—“

“So you thought you’d steal it from me?”

He laughed and scratched the back of his head, “No, I thought we could split it.”

Ordinarily, you may have been more polite. You had really enjoyed his talk. But you were very angry and your ankle was throbbing from when you had broken your heel. You wanted a peaceful drive by yourself.

“I don’t share cars with strange men, that’s how you end up on Dateline.”

He nodded, “Yeah, fair enough. What if we grab a coffee first?” He turned to Martin and slid a fifty dollar bill across the counter, “You’ll hold the car for us?”

You watched as Martin pocketed the fifty, nodding politely at Doctor Soothing Voice and you glared at him, upper lip beginning to turn up in disgust. You could already be on the road by now if it wasn’t for this sexist pig who thought women couldn’t drive stick.

“If you keep staring at him like that,” Doctor Soothing Voice whispered from over your shoulder, “You might actually end up on Dateline when they find his body.”

Accepting defeat, you sighed. Grabbing your bags, you began walking away from the counter.

“Have a beautiful day, ma’am.” Martin said as you walked by. 

You gave a short laugh and started to turn back around, “Oh, you son of a—“

“Nope.” Doctor Soothing Voice gently took your shoulders and turned you back in the direction of the door, “Just keep walking.”

Once outside in the oppressive humidity, you shook his hands off you, “You know, I could have handled that myself.”

He nodded, smiling, “I have no doubts on that front.” He gestured down to your heel-less boot, “What happened to your boot, you get in a brawl with a condescending horse?”

You snorted, “A doctor and funny. Though, I guess unsurprising since you work in an ER. If anyone’s gonna be funny it’s emergency medicine doctors. How else do we cope with the horrors?” He frowned at you in silent question, “Oh. Sorry. I should have said, I was at the conference, I saw your talk. Though your name is slipping my mind at the moment.”

He raised his eyebrows and you saw the way his eyes traveled down your legs and back up again, “You were… Here for the conference?”

“What, so, because I wore cowboy boots and booty shorts to the airport you think they’re gonna take my medical license away?”

He laughed, “You’re right, I apologize. Of course you can still practice medicine in booty shorts.” He held out a hand for you to shake, “I’m Michael. Robinavitch. You could also just call me Robby, if you want, that’s what I go by in the ER.”

You shook his hand and gave him your name, “I’m an R3, I work at UPMC Presbyterian.”

“Huh, what are the odds?” He ran a hand through his hair, “So you knew who I was and still refuse to get in a car with me?”

You started rolling your suitcase towards the Dunkin’ across the street, hobbling as you went, “Just because you’re a good doctor doesn’t mean you’re not also a deviant. People are layered and nuanced. And sick.”

His mouth was twitching towards a smirk again as he followed after you. Something about you was very intriguing to him. “Nuanced like how you’re an R3 wearing booty shorts and cowboy boots to the airport?”

“Yes, exactly.” You looked both ways at the crosswalk in front of the Dunkin’ before stepping into traffic, “Besides, I need an iced coffee if I’m about to endure fifteen plus hours in a car with a stranger.”

Robby continues to watch you from behind, eternally amused by your uneven gate, “Don’t you have other shoes?”

“Yes, well, I’ve hardly had the time to dig into my suitcase to find them now, have I?” You turned and walked backwards so you could look at him, “Do you criticize all your residents like this?”

He frowned, “That wasn’t a critique, you just look uncomfortable. Do you get this defensive with all your attendings?”

You turned away from him and he watched your shoulders heave with a sigh, “No. Believe it or not, I’m not normally like this. Must be something about you that gets under my skin.”

“Well,” He smirked and held the Dunkin’ door open for you, “You have about fifteen hours to figure out what it is.”

***

“When was the last time you drove stick?” Robby was holding the keys up just out of your reach. You knew he was trying to see if you would jump for them, but you would not be humiliated. You crossed your arms and glared at him instead.

In the last half hour you had changed your shoes and drank half your iced coffee while Robby filled out the rest of the paperwork for the car.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, more than ten years ago?”

He scoffed, “Okay, you’re definitely not driving then.”

“What, like you drive a stick super often?”

“Yes, actually, the car I own at home is a manual.”

You laughed, “Oh, okay. You’re one of those guys?”

He blinked at you, still smirking, “What does that mean? One of those guys?”

You walked around to the passenger side door, opening it, and standing on the step so you could look over the roof at him, “You know, one of those guys who only drives a manual and thinks they’re better than you for it. And like, probably owns a fucking motorcycle or something that he works on in his garage with his own two hands and talks about like it’s his child.”

You watched with glee as his face reddened, “Oh my God, you do have a motorcycle, don’t you? And a leather jacket?”

“Get in the car,” He said, still blushing as he opened the driver’s side door.

Very pleased with yourself, you ducked into the car.

***

“How’d you learn to drive stick?” He asked once they were on the road.

You were eating a donut with your feet propped up on the dash, the window open and blowing in your hair, “My dad taught me.”

He nodded, “Are the two of you close?”

“No,” You said, mouth full of donut, and then swallowed, “He was an alcoholic.”

“Oh,” Robby said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, he’s not dead, he’s just dead to me.” You turned to him and smirked as he was blushing again, “It’s okay, I haven’t spoken to him in almost ten years. I’ve moved on.”

He nodded and cleared his throat, “Sounds like that must’ve been… difficult.”

Your smile widened at his attempt to comfort you. Commiserate, even, “We are strangers in a car for fifteen hours together. We don’t have to do all this.”

He shrugged and turned to look at you briefly while stopped at a red light, “Isn’t this sorta the whole point of being alive though? Getting to know strangers?”

He had very intense, very warm, brown eyes. The kind of eyes that seemed to look right through you on first glance, that made you itch to break his stare. For just a moment, your smile slipped, and you tore your gaze from his to look out the windshield, “The light’s green.”

After a few moments of silence, you cleared your throat, “Seems like now’s a good time to mention that I am engaged, by the way. So if you were thinking about falling in love with me in the next fifteen hours, don’t.”

You heard him chuckle next to you, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it. You’re not my type.”

You choked on your iced coffee and turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“What?” He laughed, “Are you shocked that the booty shorts didn’t work on me or something?”

You felt your face flush and you turned away from him, “No, I just… men don’t have a type.”

He scoffed, “What are you talking about?”

“Men will fuck any woman who shows even a little bit of interest in them. It’s why they’re incapable of being just friends with women.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You don’t think men and women can be just friends?”

“I don’t think straight men and straight women can be just friends because the man will always be secretly thinking about fucking her.” Robby was shaking his head, “What, you disagree?”

He laughed, “Yeah, of course. I promise I am not thinking about fucking you even a little bit.”

You smirked, “Okay. Well, I guess we can be friends then. At least until you prove me right.”

“Won’t happen.” 

You grinned, “Friends forever, then.”

He laughed, “Yeah, sure. Friends forever.”

***

The sun was beginning to set when Robby pulled back on the highway after stopping for Wendy’s, french fry hanging from his mouth.

“I could drive, you know, for a little while.”

“S’okay,” Robby said, food in his mouth, “I like the driving. Prefer it, actually.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that tracks with the whole thing you got going on.”

He laughed and gave you a quick glance, “You are such a know-it-all, you know? Anyone ever told you that? What thing do I have going on?”

You tossed a chicken nugget in your mouth before answering, “I’m not a know-it-all, I'm just really good at reading people.” You swallowed, “You have control issues.”

He ran a hand over his face, slightly shaking his head, “And how did you arrive at this conclusion?”

You shrugged, “It’s just sorta written all over you. The way you stepped in at the rental counter, the way you insist on driving, even in your talk at the conference you told a story when you were a resident where you ended up stealing a patient from another, more senior resident because you thought you knew best.”

He scoffed, “Yes, but I was right.”

“That time. I’m sure you’ve done that before and been wrong.” He’s quiet and when you look over at him, his jaw is clenched. Oh. You’ve pissed him off. “I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. We all have quirks—“

“Like you being an insufferable know-it-all?” He said sharply.

You went quiet. You weren’t offended, exactly, moreso caught off guard that you had triggered him so easily when it hadn’t been your intention. 

“Sorry,” He said after a moment, sighing, “That was unnecessary.”

You nodded, “Let’s take a break from talking for a while.” You leaned forward to start fiddling with the radio before sitting back and humming along.

Robby drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, but for the most part, the two of you sat in companionable silence for roughly a half hour.

Until Robby cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for snapping at you, I know I have control issues. Guess it was frustrating hearing it from someone who doesn’t even really know me.”

You shrugged, “It’s okay. For what it’s worth I have been told I’m an insufferable know-it-all.”

He smirked, “And does your fiancé love that about you?”

You snorted, “No. There’s nothing a man hates more than a woman who thinks she knows more than him.”

The comment struck him as a little too honest. And he thought, perhaps, there was a note of hurt in your voice.

“How long have you been together?” He asked mildly.

You sighed and he saw you examine the ring on your finger out of the corner of his eye, “We dated for three years and got engaged about six months ago.”

He nodded, “You have a date in mind for the wedding?”

You became uncharacteristically quiet and he worried he had pushed too hard, but then, “No, um, we still can’t agree on a venue. And then we just decided maybe it would make more sense to wait until I finished my residency.”

“Oh,” He said, “Well, yeah, that seems reasonable.”

You cleared your throat, “What about you, Robby, you have anyone at home?”

It was not lost on him that you had redirected the conversation away from yourself, but that was fine. It wasn’t his business anyway.

“No,” He said, “No, it’s just been me for a while now.”

You nodded, “How’s that going for ya?”

He smirked, “No one to make a victim of with my control issues, so it’s alright.”

You smiled and then yawned, “Could you talk for a while?”

He huffed a laugh through his nose, “About what?”

“Anything. Medical procedures. Hell, give me your talk again.” You yawned a second time, “Anyone ever told you you have a very calming voice?”

“Oh, so my talk put you to sleep?”

“No,” You settled back into the car seat, pulling the lever to recline it slightly and resting your head against the door, “Your talk was very good, actually. You just have a nice voice. It’s how I recognized you earlier. But now, yes, I would like you to put me to sleep if you don’t mind. I have a double tomorrow.”

Robby smirked and looked at you out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes were already closed, head leaned against the window, arms crossed across your chest.

“Alright,” He said eventually, “If you insist.”

***

It took only about twenty minutes of him talking, redoing the talk he had done the day before, before he noticed you had drifted off. When he could safely get a look at you, he saw your mouth slightly agape and you were snoring softly. It shocked him how endearing he found it, how oddly comforting it was to drive with someone dozing off in the passenger seat.

You had entered your address into the GPS a couple of hours ago and with the street lights illuminating the inside of the car, he pulled up outside your apartment building.

He hated to wake you, you really did look so peaceful, the street lights giving your face an artificial glow. 

He stared at you a beat too long before he reached a hand to your knee and gave it a light squeeze, “Hey, you’re home.”

You stirred, what sounded almost like a mewl crawled out your throat as you came to and Robby fought a smile. “Home?” You asked sleepily.

“Yes,” He leaned away from you, allowing you to wake fully, “You fell asleep.”

You blinked the sleep from your eyes and looked around, “Well,” You dragged your arm at the corner of your mouth, wiping away the drool that had collected there, “I think it’s safe to say you’re no deviant, Michael Robinavitch. Thank you for getting me home safely.”

He smirked and got out of the car to help you with your suitcase, “Anytime.”

Having all your things, you looked from your apartment building back to Robby, “So, we’re still friends?” You asked, smirking, calling everything back to your earlier conversation.

A slow smile made its way across his face. The answer was yes, but he was beginning to wonder if he had more than fifteen hours with you if the answer would eventually be no.

“Yes,” Was all he said, though. You were engaged. Someone else’s. “Friends forever, like I said.”

Your smile widened and you laughed, “Good, excellent. Maybe I’ll see you around then, Dr. Robby.”

He nodded, hands stuffed in his pockets, “I hope so.”

And then he watched, leaning against the car, as you made your way towards the apartment building. You didn’t look back at him. He waited until you were safely inside before climbing back into the car and pulling off the curb.

***

2018

Normally, you could only be found at a local bookstore, but every one you had checked as of late was missing the one book you wanted. So that was how you ended up at Barnes & Noble that day. You were crouched in front of the shelf, looking intently at the spines to locate the title you were looking for and so didn’t notice that someone was now standing next to you.

Successfully locating the novel, you pulled it from its shelf and rose to standing, beginning to read the blurb on the back cover.

Which was how you found yourself face to face with Michael Robinavitch after not seeing him for five years.

“Oh,” You said, “Hi.”

Quickly, you realized it was more than likely he had completely forgotten about you. It had been five years since you had shared that rental car up to Pittsburgh and you hadn’t seen him since. He hadn’t changed all that much, though his beard was a bit more unruly than you remembered.

But then, his face lit up in recognition, “Hi,” He said, seemingly shocked, but pleased to run into you, “I almost didn’t recognize you, your hair… it’s… different.”

You smirked, “Oh, you hate it.”

“No,” He said quickly, “No, I actually think it suits you more than the long hair.”

You smiled, “Nice save. Just as charming as I remembered.”

He shook his head, a flush working its way up his neck, “You still at Presby?”

“Yes,” You nodded, “I’m an attending now, though.”

“Good, that’s good,” You noted the way his eyes fell to your left hand and you knew what he was looking for, “Did you get married, then? You said you were waiting to finish your residency.”

It was shocking to you that he remembered you had said that. At the same time, it sent an ache through you to think about that relationship.

“I did get married,” You said slowly, looking down at your empty ring finger, “We got divorced about a year ago.”

“Oh,” He sighed, “I’m… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay.” Instinctively, you placed a hand on his forearm, meant for reassurance. But his eyes stared down at your hand, and self consciously, you pulled away, “We probably shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place,” You shrugged, “Besides, relationships will probably always be doomed for me. Emergency medicine doctors suck at marriage.”

He barked a short laugh and shook his head, “You can’t think like that.”

“Hey, I’m just going by the empirical data,” You tilted your head to the side and narrowed your eyes at him, “Are you… in a relationship? I didn’t see a ring.”

He gave you a lopsided grin, “I’m actually here with my girlfriend, Janey and her son, Jake. Wandered off by myself while they were looking for a book for him for school.”

Oh, it pissed you off the way your stomach sank. He had always said you weren’t his type anyway. He was probably actually telling the truth. It figured the only honest man you’d ever met wouldn’t be into you.

Granted, you didn’t really know Robby, only the version of him that lived in your head from that fifteen hour car ride that you revisited every so often. More so since your divorce finalized. But it was just loneliness, you assured yourself. You had created a version of him in your head that didn’t exist. The man you occasionally pined after was not in front of you, just someone who looked like him.

“That’s lovely, Robby. I’m happy for you.”

He laughed, “You just said ER doctors can’t keep a relationship.”

You shook your head, “Stupid and self deprecating. It’s just a coping mechanism. I’m sure you’re really great at it. Being a boyfriend.”

He scoffed and scratched the back of his head, “I don’t know about that, but I’m trying.” He nodded to the book in your hand, “What’s that?”

You flipped it in your hand so he could see the cover, My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Otessa Moshfegh. 

“Uh, just a book I heard about online,” You shrugged.

“What’s it about?”

You shrugged again, smirking, “A woman who is so sick of everything she gets her psychiatrist to prescribe her enough pills to sleep through a whole year.”

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you. You had worked with many an ER physician in your career and while in med school. You knew what it looked like when someone was assessing you for injury.

“Should I be concerned?” He asked. His tone was casual, but his posture was anything but.

Your grin widened, “You should always be concerned about me.” You joked, but his frown deepened, “I’m fine, Robby. It’s just a book.”

It wasn’t totally true. You had sought the book out because you suspected you would relate to the protagonist. Maybe too much. But he was a stranger. He didn’t need to hear about your suicidal ideations.

“You still drive stick?” You asked, anxious to move the conversation away from yourself.

He laughed and shook his head, “No, I finally have an automatic like the rest of the population.”

You laughed, “Oh, no. Bummer. You’re just like the rest of us peasants now. Do you at least still have the motorcycle?”

“Sold it a couple years ago.”

You winced, “Man, you’ve really let yourself go.”

He laughed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. You didn’t want to leave, but you felt the longer you stood here talking to him, it threatened to disprove the belief that he could not be as lovely as you made him out to be in your head.

“So,” You said finally and held your fist out to him, “Still friends?”

He gave you a lopsided grin and pressed his fist to yours, “Friends forever,” He repeated the words from five years ago and for a moment it felt as if no time had passed at all, “Like I said. Though I hope to see you again sooner than five years from now.”

“Yeah,” You said, “Me too.” 

***

2023 

Robby had zero desire to meet the new attending Gloria had hired. Whoever it was, they had been hired behind his back and with no warning to him until they were three days out from when they were supposed to start. If Gloria had hired someone behind his back, it had to mean that whoever it was was in her pocket. Or at the very least, Gloria thought that person was in her pocket. And that was enough for him to stay far away from whoever it was.

But what he hadn’t been expecting when Gloria came downstairs, new attending by her side as she gave a tour, was you.

He stopped short and stared dumbly as you and Gloria approached him. Unfortunately for him, he was unable to stop the stupid smile that spread across his face at the sight of you. 

“Dr. Robinavitch.” You said, once you were close enough. Your smile was wide enough to mirror his, “It’s good to see you again.”

He laughed, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” Gloria frowned, looking back and forth between you two.

“Sort of.” You said, “We met at a conference ten years ago.”

Sort of was an accurate way to describe whatever this repeated crossing of paths seemed to be between the two of you. 

“Oh.” Gloria seemed less than pleased at this revelation, “Lovely. Well, I’ll leave you in more capable hands then. Come find me if you need anything.” And then she was gone.

Robby shook his head at you, “I’ll ask again, what the hell are you doing here? Presby get too small for you?”

“Uh,” You shrugged, “I just… really needed a change.”

He smirked, “And… knowing I was here probably made it more enticing?”

You laughed, “You caught me. Thought it was finally time we became actual friends.”

Robby could not explain how pleased he was that you were here. It was stupid that he cared. He hadn’t seen you in five years. And before that brief exchange, he hadn’t seen you for five years before that. So really, he hadn’t seen you in ten years. And yet, he was traipsing you around, introducing you to everyone, laughing a little too loudly at your jokes, like he was a fucking teenager.

Until he was walking you home at the end of the day. Until you mentioned Dean.

“That’s great,” He said when you said it, that you were seeing someone, “So you think you’ve broken the ER doctor curse, then?”

You shrugged, smirking, “Probably not. But I really like him. It feels good, right now.”

“Good,” He said, “You deserve that.” 

And he meant it. You had looked so sad the last time he’d seen you. And even before that, the first time you met, you had struck him as something of a wounded animal. Defending itself with jokes and pessimism. You deserved to be truly happy.

“And what about Janey, how is she?”

He sighed, “Um, we broke up shortly after the last time I saw you. It seems the curse of the ER doctors is still with me. But I still get to see Jake, her son, so I feel really lucky about that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s probably for the best,” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, “I’ve been a fucking wreck since covid anyway.”

You nodded, “Yeah. It’s been a rough couple of years.” The silence stretched between the two of you. Neither of you brave enough to break it with the horrors you experienced during the pandemic.

Finally, you cleared your throat, “Did you lose anyone?” You asked quietly.

He swallowed thickly, then nodded, “Our Chief of Emergency Medicine, Dr. Adamson. My mentor.”

He heard your sharp intake of breath next to him, “I heard about that. I didn’t realize you were close. I’m so sorry, Michael.”

Something about you using his first name undid him just a little and he had to focus very hard on his shoes and his steps to keep the emotion at bay.

“What about you?” He asked instead, “Who did you lose?”

Because you had to have lost someone. Almost everyone had. Especially if you worked in a hospital.

You sighed deeply, “Our charge nurse, Liz. She was like a mother to me. She’d been charge since I was a resident.”

“Is that why you left Presby?”

“I watched a lot of people I loved and deeply respected burn out and hospital admin did nothing about it. I know too many nurses and doctors both that decided to retire early or completely change careers.” You shrugged, “I don’t know. It felt like I was watching my entire department crash and burn.”

He shook his head, “It’s so fucked.”

“That we’re here and they’re not?” Finally, he met your gaze. Your eyes were warm and impossibly open as you looked at him. If he looked closely enough, he could see his own grief mirrored back at him. He gave you a slight nod. 

“Yeah,” You sighed and looked up at the moon, “It is fucked.”

After a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence, you stopped in front of an apartment complex, “Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home, though it was completely unnecessary.”

Robby shrugged his shoulders up to his ears, “Let me feel useful, will you?”

You laughed, “Alright. See you tomorrow, then, Dr. Robby.”

He watched you go inside and as he walked away from the building he found himself thinking that he wished you’d call him Michael again.

***

It went like that for weeks. Robby walked you home after every shift, though you insisted it was unnecessary. You talked about everything and nothing. The shift, the hard patients, the ones you lost. To books and music and film. To childhood stories and first loves. It was finally starting to feel like you knew each other, rather than just a projection of each other ten years ago that lived in your respective brains.

But it wasn’t long before he noticed the way you seemed to be shrinking every time he saw you. Your smile just a little less genuine, the spark in your eyes dimmed ever so slightly. And he was too afraid to ask you why.

Instead, Robby started showing up outside your building in the mornings, an iced coffee in hand for you.

A few weeks of watching the two of you walk into the ER together, all smiles and laughs, and Abbot couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“So,” He said as him and Robby were walking through the ER for handoffs, “You gonna tell me about your girlfriend or am I gonna have to torture it out of you?”

Robby gave him a quizzical look, “What are you on about? I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, okay, so you’re just buying iced coffees every morning for anyone these days?”

Robby laughed, “Are you accusing me of being a harlot because I occasionally buy my colleague a coffee?”

“So she’s not your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Okay. But you’re sleeping with her?”

Robby huffed and shook his head, “No. We’re just friends.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at Robby, “Friends who… Occasionally sleep together?”

“Okay,” Robby sighed, “We’re done with this conversation.”

Robby walked away and Jack scoffed, turning to Dana, “I’m not crazy, right? They’re definitely sleeping together.”

Dana rolled her eyes, “No, actually. She has a boyfriend.”

“Right,” Jack said emphatically, “And the boyfriend is Robby.”

Dana cracked a smirk, “No, you idiot. She’s seeing someone outside the hospital.”

Jack’s eyes widened, “You’re not kidding? With the way they look at each other?” Dana just continued smiling at him, “Alright, well, no one should be surprised if Robby walks in here one day with a black eye.”

“Who’s punching Robby?” You asked, approaching the hub, “What’d he do now? Is it Mohan? Because, I gotta tell ya, I’d pay to see that.”

Jack laughed, “Not Samira, your bo—“

Dana smacked Jack lightly in the stomach, cutting him off, “You eat anything today, kid? You look peaked.”

You frowned, “I just got here. Are you saying I look like shit?”

“There’s donuts in the lounge, sweetheart.”

“Well,” You pushed yourself off the hub, unable to turn down a donut, regardless of Dana’s implications, “Yeah, okay.” And disappeared towards the lounge.

Dana turned back to Jack, who was rubbing his stomach dramatically as if he’d actually been injured, “Could you not cause trouble on my shift? Go home.”

“Fine, fine,” Jack backed away, headed to the lockers, “But you know I’m right.”

Dana watched Robby as he tracked you with his eyes into the staff lounge, “Man, could you at least try to be less obvious?” She said under her breath, shaking her head.

***

The shift hadn’t been so terrible. You hadn’t lost anyone today and had only gotten yelled at by one patient, and she had been high out of her mind so you didn’t really count it. Still, you were in your head. Or, on your phone. Dean had been MIA for a couple of days now and you were supposed to meet him at his place after your shift, but he hadn’t answered any of your texts or calls.

He had been distant lately. This wasn’t the first time he had disappeared for days on end only to show up later and act like it wasn’t a big deal. You were growing tired of it, of the games. You were forty years old now, you thought once you were this old the men would quit playing games. I mean, fuck, he had you, so what was the vanishing act about? What was he trying to prove?

Grabbing your things from your locker and placing your headphones over your ears, you pressed play on your music and began the walk back to your apartment. You turned the music up loud enough to drown out the thoughts that tornado’d around in your head.

Loud enough that you didn’t hear the man who came up behind you and squeezed your shoulder.

You screamed and jumped back– Only to see it was Robby standing there, hands up as he backed away from you, concern all over his face.

“Fuck,” You swore and bent over your knees, trying to catch your breath after tearing off your headphones.

“Sorry,” Robby said softly, “Sorry, I thought you heard me, I’d been calling after you for a while.”

You straightened, “It’s okay.”

“You, um,” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, “You left without me. You usually wait.”

“Oh–I–Sorry–I–” You sighed, frustrated with your stammering, “I’ve been in my head all day, I just…” You sighed, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hey,” He lowered his head to force you to meet his eyes, a gentle smile on his face, “It’s okay. What’s going on with you?”

You hesitated and then looked away from him, starting to walk again. He fell into step beside you, patiently waiting.

“Would it be weird to talk about my dating life with you?”

He shook his head, “No. Why would it be weird?”

Right, because he wasn’t attracted to you even a little bit. As he was always so quick to remind you. 

You liked being friends with Robby, but working in the same ER you could no longer deny that you found him very sexy. Especially when he caught a rare diagnosis. Or he very calmly and gently explained a procedure to a resident while alarms were beeping around them and nurses were shouting out vitals.

Even just watching the way he rubbed hand sanitizer into his hands between patients had you imagining his hands in… very inappropriate situations.

And all the while you had to remember that he was not, and would never be, into you like that. And also, you had a boyfriend. A very sexy boyfriend in his own right, though my God, could he answer the fucking phone?

“No reason,” You sighed, “I don’t know, um, Dean’s just been a bit distant lately. He hasn’t answered my calls or texts in a couple of days and we’re supposed to meet up today.”

He nodded, “And you’re thinking…?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. He’ll probably break up with me soon. Or just ghost me. That’s what they usually do.”

He frowned, “This happens to you often?”

You smirked, “I know. Hard to believe with how charming and likable I am that I can’t keep a man.”

Robby didn’t laugh, though, just kept walking and silently staring ahead. 

You let the silence stretch and fold between you, Robby clearly holding something back, but refusing to acknowledge it.

“You got something to say?” You said, more casually than you felt.

Robby clenched his jaw and let another few moments of silence pass, “No.”

You gave a short laugh, “Okay.” You said, stretching out the word, “I mean, you can say it, whatever it is. We’re all friends here.”

He shook his head, “I just wonder why you keep choosing men who clearly don’t respect you or even like you very much.”

His words stunned you to a stop. He kept walking for a few steps before realizing you stopped and he turned back to face you.

At the look of surprise, and even hurt on your face, he sighed, “Look, I… I didn’t mean that to come out so harsh, I just don’t understand it. I mean, it was clear even ten years ago from what you said about your ex husband that he didn’t give you what you needed. And now you’re with this loser who can’t even be bothered to answer a text.” He ran a hand over his face, “You could probably have any guy you wanted in all of Pittsburgh, but instead you seem to purposely pick men that disappoint you.”

You scoffed and started walking again, “Okay, so it’s my fault that men treat me like shit?”

“Really?” He fell into step beside you again, “That’s what you’re gonna take from what I said?”

“How else am I supposed to take that?”

He scoffed and shook his head, “I just wish you’d see that you deserve better.”

You laughed and slowed to a stop, “Robby, I’m fucking forty years old. I’m divorced. I’m obsessed with my work. I’m an insufferable know-it-all, as you know. I’m not easy to love. I don’t exactly have men breaking down my door to be with me, alright? Dean is… Not perfect. But he’s all I have.” He stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite place, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down at his feet, “Nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry for what I said… It’s not my business.”

You bit your lip, fighting with the tears that seemed to threaten to overflow. And maybe Robby would think that the tears were just because he crossed a line, but it was more than that. There was something so fucking hurtful about this wonderful man in front of you, who had been so clear that he did not want you, making a whole speech about how you deserved better. Had he not ever once considered that good, decent men just did not love you and never had? Going all the way back to your father who would have done anything for a bottle of scotch but couldn’t remember to pick you up from school?

“Hey,” He said gently, stepping closer to you when he noticed your watery eyes, “I’m sorry, okay?”

He dropped his backpack to the ground and pulled you into his arms, “I’m sorry,” He repeated into your hair, arms tightening around you and anchoring you to his chest. He smelt of clean laundry and fresh pine deodorant. You closed your eyes and for a moment, allowed yourself to be comforted. To imagine what it would be like to be loved by someone like him.

Just for a moment.

***

You sat at your kitchen table, leg bouncing, fingernail gnawed between your teeth as you stared at your phone. It was nearly 9PM and still nothing from Dean.

This was ridiculous. You felt like a teenager waiting by the phone all night. You were just going to show up at his apartment, as planned. Maybe his phone was broken. Maybe a family emergency had come up.

But your earlier conversation with Robby was still playing in the back of your mind. Maybe you should just swear off men for good. Get a cat and dedicate yourself entirely to work.

Sighing, you stood and grabbed your car keys from the hook by the door.

***

You had knocked on his apartment door about ten minutes ago, giving up after a couple of tries. You leaned against the wall beside his door, trying yet again to call him, but it was sent to voicemail. You swore as you hung up, and as you did, the elevator at the end of the hall dinged and you heard the doors sliding open.

A feminine laugh floated down the hallway and you ignored it, still looking at your phone, until the laugh was replaced by silence. No walking. No voices.

You looked up and saw Dean, arms wrapped around a blonde that was easily at least a decade younger than you, probably more, mouth gaped open as he stared at you, “What’re you doing here?” He asked eventually.

What were you doing here? Chasing after a man that didn’t want you, just like Robby said. The tears that burned your eyes were not tears of sadness, but anger and humiliation. You sighed and pushed yourself off the wall, “Don’t call me. I’ll drop off your things next week.”

“Baby–”

“Oh, and just a word of warning,” You turned to the blonde, “He’s terrible at eating pussy.” You said, voice full of venom. 

And then you ducked into the stairwell.

***

You had made it back to your apartment building and after turning the ignition off in your car, had begun uncontrollably sobbing, head resting against the steering wheel.

When the crying began to slow to just hiccups, you took out your phone and dialed Robby.

He answered on the second ring, because he was reliable. Unlike any of the men you’d ever been with.

“Hey,” You sniffled, “You were right about Dean. He doesn’t like me… or respect me.”

You heard him breathe for a moment in the silence as he processed what you had said, “Are you crying?” He asked finally.

You laughed and wiped your nose on your sleeve, “Yeah, I know, it’s fucking pathetic. It’s just so fucking typical that he would cheat on me with some hot blonde in her twenties and just, like, think I would never find out! He didn’t even try to hide it. Knew we had plans tonight, and– Or, I don’t know, maybe the plans were so insignificant to him he really forgot. I guess on top of being really goddamn annoying I’m also extremely forgettable.” You lightly banged your forehead against the steering wheel.

“You’re not annoying or forgettable.” He said gently, almost sweetly.

“You’re just saying that because I’m crying and you have to be nice to me.”

You thought you heard a quiet laugh, “I remembered you after two brief encounters ten years ago. Thought about you quite often after both run ins, in fact. I would say that makes you pretty memorable.”

Robby was many things, but you knew him to always, always be honest. And so his words sprung new tears from your eyes. What were you going to do when some perfect woman inevitably fell in love with him and he wouldn’t answer calls like these late at night? When you were spiraling and a fucking mess?

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t dispute the fact that I’m annoying.”

Another short laugh, “You are passionate and assertive and intuitive and very funny. None of which I find annoying.”

Your chest felt warm at his praise, “You said I was an insufferable know-it-all the first time we met.”

He sighed, “I was stupid then. Besides, I didn’t know then that you used your teasing as a shield to keep the attention off yourself.” 

His revelation shocked you into silence and for a moment you just sat there, listening to his breathing. It was scary to be known and your instinct was to lash out, but you instead counted your breaths.

“Are you home?” He asked finally.

“I’m in my car, parked outside my complex.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You frowned, “What? What do you mean?”

“I started walking over when I heard you crying. Sorry, is that not okay? Should I turn around?”

“No,” You said quickly, too quickly, and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, “No, I mean, you should come. I would… I would like it if you were here.”

“Okay,” He said softly, “I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Okay.” You murmured and waited until the line cut out before you lowered the phone from your ear.

True to his word, Robby strolled into the parking lot just a few minutes later. When he saw you get out of your car and lock it behind you, he quickened his pace until he was in front of you, pulling you into his arms. Much like he had earlier that same day.

And again, you allowed yourself to be coddled. Allowed it when he kept an arm around your shoulders as he led you into your apartment building. Ignored the flutter in your stomach when he pressed a kiss to your hair and told you you deserved better.

A couple of hours later, you’re on the couch, both pleasantly tipsy from the bottle of wine you had opened and the tears had long since dried. Your feet were in his lap and while the two of you talked, his hand had been unconsciously running up and down your leg.

He hadn’t seemed to notice, but you had. 

“Did you say anything to him? When you left?”

You shrugged, “I told him I’d drop off his things.” Then you laughed, “I might have said something sort of awful to the girl though.”

He smirked, “What’d you say?”

You hesitated only a moment, flush building up your neck as you stared at the wine glass in your hand, “I told her that he was terrible at eating pussy.”

There’s a second of silence and then Robby bursts out laughing, “Is it true?”

You chuckled, still looking down at your wine glass, for some reason unable to look at him when talking about this, “Yes. He never made me come.”

Robby’s laughter died out and the hand on your leg stilled, “Never? Not even once?” You shook your head slowly, “How long were you dating?”

“About six months.”

Robby let out a low whistle, “Fuck.”

You nodded, “You’d be shocked the number of grown men who are clueless when it comes to knowing their way around…” You trailed off and cleared your throat, “Anyway, most men are pretty bad at it, in my experience, if they even like it.”

He exhaled heavily through his nose, “I just think maybe you have terrible taste in men.”

This again. You rolled your eyes, “As I said, the pickings are slim. Beggars can’t be choosers. Who would you have me sleep with, hm?”

When you looked up at him he was looking at you intensely. If you didn’t know any better, you would say hungrily. But just as soon as you were starting to wonder what it was he was thinking, the expression was gone and he stood from the couch, tossing your legs to the side.

“I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

You tried not to seem too disappointed, “Right. Of course.”

You stood and led him to the door, “Thank you for coming,” You said as you opened the door, “You really didn’t have to.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

You smiled and nodded, “That’s what friends are for, right?” You said, self deprecatingly. You hadn’t meant for it to sound sarcastic, but you knew he must have heard it anyway.

He nodded and looked anywhere but at you. He was acting very strange. “Right, yeah. Friends.” 

You frowned, “Michael,” You said finally and his eyes snapped to yours, “Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

He shook his head and then his eyes fell to your mouth, “No,” He said, gaze never straying from your lips, “I’m just tired.” He insisted.

“Okay,” You said slowly. He was drunk. Whatever was going on in his head right now meant nothing. Maybe he was staring at your mouth or maybe you had something in your teeth.

“Still friends?” You asked softly.

That joke. That stupid fucking decade old joke, still a shared line between the two of you, coiling ever tighter as time went on. And now it was fraying.

His eyes met yours and this time there was no mistaking the hunger in his gaze. You had mere moments to process the fact that Robby was looking at you with raw, unadulterated desire before his hands had grabbed your face and his mouth crashed into yours.

You gasped in surprise, but he was undeterred, his mouth hurriedly exploring yours as he moved you out of the threshold of the door and kicked it shut behind him. Beneath your initial shock, your body reacted. Robby was a man you had pined for on and off for more than a decade, and he was kissing you like you were a fresh stream and he hadn’t had water for so long that he couldn’t remember what it even tasted like. It took little more for the arousal to begin pooling in your stomach, for the ache between your legs to grow and expand.

But then, he licked into your mouth at the same time he lightly pushed you down on the couch and you could feel the way you dripped into your panties.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” He said breathlessly as he crawled over you.

You could only shake your head, watching him above you like this. You were so full of want, you leaned up to kiss him again–

But he pulled back.

“I need to hear you say it.” He said, his voice husky.

You swallowed, “Don’t stop.” You breathed.

It was enough. His mouth latched back onto yours, tongue making dizzying strokes against your own, and you were embarrassed when a whine escaped you. You tried pulling him by the shirt, needing him closer. At the same time, you wiggled your hips down until you felt yourself press against the knee he had slotted between your legs, seeking pressure and friction for your throbbing center.

But Robby pulled away, “I don’t think so.” He said, “Think I want to show you how a real man eats a meal.”

Were you dreaming? You felt like you were dreaming. Because there was no fucking way Michael Robinavitch was towering over you, obvious erection growing in his pants as he tugged your ankle to bring you to the edge of the couch. There was no goddamn way he was lowering himself to his knees in front of you, eyes never leaving yours.

But he was. And he tugged your shorts down over your knees. When you went to wiggle out of your panties, he stopped you, “Not yet.”

Slowly, he kissed and sucked his way from the side of your knee, up your inner thigh, until you were impatiently wriggling beneath his mouth. He said nothing, only wrapped an arm around one of your thighs to still you.

Finally, he turned his attention to your clothed pussy, running a finger down the damp spot at your center and sighing when your back arched.

“You’re so easy to rile,” He murmured, “It’s a mystery he couldn’t make you finish. It’ll probably only take me a couple minutes. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

The pet name went straight to your head, blood pounding in your ears. Your only response was a breathy sigh as he began delicately kissing you over your underwear. He began to apply a bit more pressure and you could feel his hot breath through the flimsy fabric.

When you felt his tongue, still over that fucking fabric, you moaned loudly, frustrated, “Michael.”

You felt the smug fucker smile against you before his fingers slipped under the cloth at your hips, pulling down. You lifted your hips eagerly to allow him to pull them off you.

Mercifully, he didn’t tease you any longer, his mouth was back on you immediately. If you were eager, he was desperate now, shoving his tongue deep in you and lapping up your juices. His hands held your thighs down so firmly when you squirmed, you thought he’d probably leave bruises.

He moved his mouth up to your swollen clit, humming against it as he pushed a finger inside you. You were so tight around his fingers, getting wetter and tighter as you approached your climax. With every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his finger, you felt yourself lose a little more control.

When he added a finger you thought maybe your brain was so overwhelmed with the pleasure it had forgotten to trigger your lungs to breathe. But a moment later, he sucked on your clit just hard enough to send you toppling over the edge and you were gasping for air. 

When he felt your orgasm rip through you, he released your hips, finally allowing you to grind against his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you while you tugged him by the hair closer to you, impossibly closer.

When it was over, he pulled away from you, rising up to kiss your mouth, the taste of you still on his tongue. He kissed his way up your jawline to your ear.

“How was that?” He murmured against the shell of your ear.

You were still seeing stars from the intensity of your orgasm, “How do you think?” You gasped.

You felt him laugh against your neck and then his body pulled away from yours. You mourned the loss immediately, but clenched your fists at your sides to stop yourself from reaching for him.

“Could I use your bathroom to clean up?” He asked.

You frowned and looked to his pants, still clearly tented from his erection, “It’s at the end of the hall, but let me—“

When you reached out to palm him over his pants, he jerked away. Rejection coursed through your veins and instantly, you knew you were flushed with embarrassment. 

“It’s okay,” He said and smiled at you, but it seemed strained, “I just wanted to make you feel good. I’ll be right back.”

He turned and walked towards the bathroom without waiting for your reply. 

You were still half naked on the couch, feeling confused and hurt as the high of your orgasm left you. What kind of guy made you come like that on the first try and then didn’t want you to touch his cock? What sort of fucked up point had he been trying to make?

***

Robby splashed water on his face, washing the remnants of you from his mouth and beard, and then looked at himself in the mirror.

Oh, you’ve done it now, man. He thought, You’ve absolutely fucked it.

He’d ruined everything. One brief lapse of self control and their entire friendship was now set to implode. 

But you had looked so goddamn sad on that couch and when he heard that loser not only had cheated on you, but couldn’t even make you come, it had flipped some primal, animalistic switch in his brain.

Until all he could think about was you coming undone under his mouth while you moaned his name. 

Still friends? You had asked at the door and he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t say the practiced words and finish the damn joke like he always did. Friends didn’t wonder what the other’s pussy tasted like or what they sounded like when they came.

What was an orgasm between friends? Maybe he could still salvage it. Maybe they could just pretend it never happened. 

He wasn’t prepared to lose you, not when you had just showed up at PTMC after he had spent years thinking about you. Wondering how you were doing. If you were still here or if you had moved away. If someone was finally loving you how you deserved.

The two of you were drunk. It hadn’t meant anything. You would regret it in the morning and he would graciously act like he didn’t know what you were talking about. He’d give you a few days of space and then he’d show up again with an iced coffee and walk you to the hospital. And everything would go back to normal.

It had to. He wouldn’t accept anything else.

***

Robby had left in a rush that night after he came out of the bathroom, giving you a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead as he did.

You were left feeling confused and hurt, that he had rushed out like that after the way he kissed you and touched you. Tasted you like you were a fine wine to be savored. Then turned around and acted like nothing happened. Like he had just done you a favor.

Your thumb hovered over his contact on your phone for a couple days after. You both had four days in a row off of work, a rare blessing. You typed and deleted many texts. And then there was a knock at your door.

Fuck, was he here? Maybe to apologize, to explain why he ran out like that. He was scared, he wanted you, he was in love with you. You felt like a lovesick teen for hoping. 

More likely, he would say it was a mistake and it wouldn’t happen again. And you would accept it even if it broke your heart because you had no other choice. You could either have this much of him or none at all.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Robby standing in the hallway with flowers and coffee. 

It was—

“Dean?”

***

Robby was pacing outside your apartment building with your iced coffee in hand. It had been four days since he last saw you. Four days of replaying that night in his head, getting off to the thought of how you felt and tasted. The way you sounded so desperate for him when you moaned his name.

But that was behind him now, he could forget about it if it meant keeping your friendship.

He froze when he heard your building door open and turned to look— It was you. 

You hadn’t noticed him yet, staring at your phone and headphones over your ears. He watched as your lips parted slightly in concentration, tongue darting out to wet them.

He swallowed and averted his eyes. It turned out it wouldn’t be so easy to pretend like nothing had happened. 

He’d keep trying though.

Finally, you looked up and you gave him a confused look as you pushed your headphones off, “Hi,” You said slowly.

He smiled and held out your coffee. Still frowning, you took it, “What are you doing here?” You asked softly as the two of you began the walk to the hospital.

“What do you mean?” He asked, staring ahead. He could feel your eyes burning holes into the side of his face, but he kept his focus ahead of him. It was all easier if he just didn’t look at you. “We do this every morning.”

“Right…” You said slowly and then scoffed when he didn’t say anything further, “Okay. Fine.”

“What do you mean, fine?”

“I mean if you want to act like everything’s fine, like you didn’t get me off on my couch a few nights ago, then okay. I’ll do the same.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose and kept looking ahead, “Okay. Great.” He could hear the irritation in your voice, but he ignored it, “How was the rest of your time off?”

He could feel you staring at him again, and then he thought he noticed you shake your head in his peripheral.

“It was fine.” You said finally, then you cleared your throat, “Actually, Dean showed up with flowers a couple of days ago. Said it was a mistake and begged me to take him back.”

Robby gave a short laugh, “Would’ve paid to see the look on his face when you told him to fuck off.”

You didn’t laugh with him. Didn’t say anything at all, in fact, and he felt his stomach twist with dread, “You did tell him to fuck off, didn’t you?” He asked quietly.

Still, you said nothing. Finally, he turned to look at you, but you were staring intently ahead. The tips of your ears red with what he assumed was embarrassment. Perhaps shame.

He scoffed, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“The last thing I need right now is you on your high horse–”

“Do you have no goddamn self respect, is that it?” He spat, voice rising, “You chase after men who hate you because you hate yourself?”

You stopped walking then, your whole face flushed with either anger or embarrassment, maybe both. 

“You have no fucking right to talk about the men I’ve been with when you behaved just like all the rest the other night!”

“Me?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “What are you even talking about?”

“You fucking ran out of my apartment, leaving me half fucked, and acted like it was no big deal. Don’t call. Don’t text. Then you show up at my apartment with a fucking coffee like nothing happened! Like it meant nothing!” Tears of frustration pricked your eyes, “At least with Dean I know what I’m getting, with you… it’s… it’s hot and cold and I never know what the fuck you’re thinking or what you want–”

“I want to be friends.” He said quickly, “I want to be your friend, I want you to be happy.”

You nodded and looked up towards the trees, willing the tears back into your eyes, “Right. Friends. Friends don’t lead each other on.” You said, lip curled, and then you continued your walk to the hospital.

He stared after you, stunned, and then jogged to catch up to you, “I told you from the beginning you weren’t my type–”

You were drowning. It would have been kinder for him to have tied a weight to your foot and shoved you in the river.

You turned and placed your empty hand on his chest and shoved, “Fuck. You.” He was much larger than you and you had a coffee in your other hand so he remained sturdy, though he fell back a step. Tears were streaming down your cheeks now, “We’re not fucking friends. We’re not anything.” You shoved the iced coffee back into his hand, “Just leave me alone, okay?”

Robby stared after you as you stormed off, jaw clenched and melted iced coffee in his hand.

***

Jack and Dana watched as you stormed into the ER, face red and splotchy. Your cheeks shined with tears under the fluorescent glow of the lights above. Robby strode in only moments later, a melted iced coffee in his hand that he tossed in the trash by the entrance as he walked over to the hub.

You were rushing around after stopping at the lockers, draping a stethoscope around your neck as you ambled right into Robby’s path, causing the both of you to stop short to avoid a collision. Jack and Dana watched as the two of you stared each other down for a few seconds, tension palpable, before you stormed off again. Robby stared after you for a moment before running a hand down his face.

Jack and Dana exchanged a look before Jack stepped to Robby and clapped a hand on his back, “Hey man, why don’t we get some air?”

Robby sighed, “I just got here, Jack.”

“And yet you already look like you’ve been through the ringer, so humor me.” He said and steered the other man by the shoulders to the stairs.

Once on the roof, Robby leaned over the railing and Jack joined him, his eyes roving over Robby, “What happened?”

Robby sighed, “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, man, what’s going on with you and Y/N? You ran after her at the end of the last shift. Now you walk in separately and if looks could kill, my friend, you’d be six feet under right now.”

He shrugged, “I fucked up. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have. I hurt her without meaning to. Now she wants nothing to do with me.” He looked at Jack and smirked, “That’s it.”

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” Jack asked, turning his attention back to the Pittsburgh skyline.

He laughed, “Nothing. She told me to leave her alone, so that's what I’ll do.”

Jack shook his head, “I don’t buy it.” Robby looked at him incredulously. “The two of you have been drawn to each other like magnets over the last, what, ten years? And you’re just gonna let her walk away?”

Robby smirked, “I already told you, it’s not like that with her. We’re just friends.”

“What line did you cross, then, huh?” Robby didn’t answer, jaw clenched as he avoided Jack’s stare, “I’ve seen the way you look at her, man,” Jack shook his head, “It’s not friendly.”

Robby was terrified that Jack may be right. That all this time he had been convincing himself you were just a friend, he had been falling for you instead. He knew the way the staff talked, not just Jack. Again and again, he dismissed them as rumors, a bit of lightness to keep everyone’s head above water. But what if there had been truth to it?

He had been so scared of losing your friendship he didn’t stop to think that the reason he was so scared was because maybe he cared for you more than just as a friend.

And if that was true, he had wasted so much time and energy fighting against it only to lose the war anyway.

Robby rubbed at his beard and shook his head, “Well, it really doesn’t matter because I fucked it, so.” He pushed himself off the railing and started walking towards the door that led back to the Pitt, “I should get back down there. Go home.”

Alone on the roof, Jack heaved a sigh, “I should really be getting paid extra for these free therapy sessions.” He murmured to himself before he walked back to the door.

***

For weeks, Robby tortured himself by reliving your last conversation in his head. The realization that you were hurting and he was the reason, it made him feel sick at times. In addition to that, after his conversation with Jack on the roof, he realized too late that he was in love with you. He thought about telling you many times, but it was so clear you wanted nothing to do with him, he thought it would probably just hurt you more.

The one time he had followed you out of the ER at the end of the shift intent on finally telling you, he had walked out to see your arms twined around Dean’s neck, your mouth smiling into his. His stomach had twisted and he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. It was wrong, it felt all wrong seeing you wrapped around him like that. He knew he had fucked up his chance with you, but it hurt worse that his fuck up had pushed you back into Dean’s arms.

 He did his best to stay out of your way, but it was difficult. Since you were an attending yourself, he didn’t need to be involved in all of your cases, but there were times when you begrudgingly asked for a consult. Or a really rough trauma came in and it was all hands on deck.

It was uncomfortable for everyone on those cases. The unresolved tension between you two acted like a whirlpool, extending out and dragging unwilling participants to the center. You would bicker over treatment plans or silently glare at each other over patients.

Once, when he had walked in to you performing a thoracostomy with a warm water lavage, he thought he might fire you from how frustrated he was.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hypothermic drowning victim, troponin levels suggested there was a cardiac event, I’m clearing the clots and rewarming with warm saline.” You said calmly without looking up from the patient.

“Did you consult cardio?”

“There wasn’t time.”

“You could have at least fucking called me.”

You looked up at that, and then back down, “He’s back to sinus and at normal temp.” You said and began to deglove, “I’m not going to apologize for saving a patient.”

He followed after you as you walked back to central, “You and I both know you’re supposed to call in your chief attending for approval whenever you want to do some crazy procedure that is outside the standard of care–”

“It wasn’t outside of the standard–”

“You’re not a fucking cardio attending,” He said, louder than he meant to. Others turned to stare at the two of you, “Look,” He said, lowering his voice, “You can hate me all you like, but we have to work together when we’re here. And that means,” You had rolled your eyes here and he had to move his head to force eye contact with you, “That you consult me before you do anything that is considered outside the norm. Got it?”

You sighed, “Loud and clear, boss. Can I go now?”

He stared at you a moment longer and his eyes fell to your mouth. He hadn’t meant to stare, to recall the way your mouth felt against his or how soft and pliant your lower lip was when he pulled at it with his teeth, but that’s what he found himself doing.

And you noticed. He watched as your frown deepened and you turned, walking away before he could say anything else.

“Fuck,” He murmured to himself and laced his hands behind his neck. 

“You okay, Cap?” Dana asked as Robby trudged over to the hub, leaning over on his forearms.

“Just peachy.” He sighed.

“You coming out tonight? It’s Princess’s birthday. Everyone’s going to Monterey’s.”

“Everyone?”

Dana smirked knowingly, “Yes, I heard she’ll be there too.”

He shook his head slowly, “Then, no. I will not be going.”

She sighed, “The two of you cannot keep going like this. If for no other reason than it’s starting to affect your work. Time to put your big boy pants on and face… whatever the fuck is going on with you.”

“What do you want me to do, huh? She wants nothing to do with me. Should I lock us in a room together and force her to talk to me?”

Dana shrugged, “Maybe, if you think that’ll work.” Robby shook his head and looked away, “Come out tonight.” Dana said, “There’s nothing a drink or two can’t fix.”

***

It was 8:30 when you walked into Monterey's, having gone home to change. You hated going out in scrubs, it felt wrong somehow.

You spotted Robby almost immediately where he stood near Dana, but pretended you hadn’t noticed him as you headed to the bar. 

It didn’t seem to matter though, because he was next to you two minutes later as you waited for the bartender to return with your drink.

“Could we talk?” He asked.

Your eyes flitted up to his and you found yourself momentarily distracted by how beautiful he was. The freckles, the crinkles at his eyes. You had had to work very hard not to notice the last few weeks. 

You turned back to the bar, “I’m waiting for my drink.”

“I can wait.” He said immediately.

You drummed your fingers against the bar top, “If this is about earlier–”

“It’s not about work.”

You swallowed, “Well, what, then?”

He didn’t say anything, eyes following the bartender as he made your drink. Once the drink was in your hand, he began walking, gesturing for you to follow as he led you outside.

It was quiet out here. The Sun just barely peeking over the skyline, a faint orange glow illuminating everything. You felt claustrophobic as he led you down an alley on the side of the building. It had felt like forever since the last time you’d been alone together.

He came to a stop and turned to you, clearing his throat, “How are you?” He asked softly.

You sighed, “Robby, I don’t–This is unnecessary–”

“Look, I know I fucked up. I think about it every day. But I can’t–”

“So you regret it then? What we did?” Your voice broke as you said it. There were so many layers to how hurt you still felt after everything with Robby. It was difficult to untangle most of the time, so you had just buried it. But standing here with him so close, you could feel it all clawing to the surface, demanding your attention.

“No.” He said firmly, “No, I don’t. I regret the way I handled it.”

You took a sip of your drink and looked away from him, “I see. So you just wish you had maybe let me down easier, then? Is that it?”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “This isn’t coming out right. I’m so fucking bad at this.”

You scoffed, “I’m just gonna go back inside, okay? We’re good, I promise, I will make sure to consult you–”

“I love you.” He blurted out, and you froze. “I’m in love with you. I’ve probably loved you a little bit from the moment I met you.”

For a second you just stared at him, the only sound was the sound of each other’s breathing. 

Then, your eyes watered and you inhaled a shaky breath, “Don’t do this.” It came out breathless, a desperate plea, “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” He reached out, grabbing your free hand to keep you from running.

You were shaking your head, turning to leave, then turning back when his hand tightened around yours, “You’re just lonely, you don’t want me.”

He tugged you by the hand until you were just inches from him, “I do,” He said nodding, “I love you. And I can say it as many times as you need me to to believe it.”

You swallowed, “You said just a few weeks ago that I wasn’t your type and you’ve been saying it for ten years.”

He shook his head, eyes roving over your face until they settled on your mouth, “We were both there the night I kissed you. Do you really believe that?”

Not really, no. You could still feel the urgency of his tongue in your mouth. You could still hear his reverent sighs at the sight of you naked. Still, he had pushed you away, left you alone and rejected.

Your chin wobbled, “Michael.”

His name came out in a broken plea. You weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for. For him not to mean it or for him to mean it. 

He laced his free hand through the hair at the back of your neck, “Don’t be scared, okay? I’ve got you this time. I promise. I was stupid, I was so afraid of losing you as a friend I ignored the way I really felt.”

You rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes. You wanted to believe him, but you were afraid, too. Afraid he’d change his mind, like all the rest. Leave you more broken than when he found you. 

“I love you,” He whispered and pulled back to kiss your forehead, “I love you,” He repeated, pressing a kiss to your cheek. And he went on like that, kissing your face all over as he repeated those three words and you felt like your chest was being cracked open. If he reached in to pull your heart out, to hold it, still beating in his hand, you’d probably let him take it. You’d let him do anything he wanted if you could just stay in this moment.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore and you caught his mouth with yours. He pushed you into the brick wall behind you, careful to place his hand between your head and the hard stone. The single act of tenderness had tears springing to your eyes again and you felt so fucking pathetic that you kissed him harder, desperate to drown out the feeling.

He moaned when you pulled gently at his lip with your teeth and the sound had the muscles coiling low in your belly, heat accumulating with every new taste and touch and sound.

Mouth still on yours, he frantically unbuttoned your jeans and shoved his hand down between your legs. You whimpered when he dipped a finger just barely into your entrance, his sigh in your ear sounded like relief. Like he had been dying to touch you like this for weeks and weeks, and finally he was saved.

When he pushed his finger fully inside you, you cried out and he covered your mouth with his own to stifle it.

“Robby,” You sighed as he stroked your walls, thumb coming up to rub dizzying circles around your clit, “We… We shouldn’t… I haven’t—I’m still with De—“

“I know you were not about to say another man’s name when I'm knuckle deep inside you, right, sweetheart? You wouldn’t do that, would you?” He added a finger and you would’ve folded if it weren’t for his body pressed to yours, keeping you steady, “You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You gonna come nice and quiet in my hand so no one hears you?”

God, no one else had this effect on you. No one else could talk to you like this, make you soft and malleable like warm putty. It drove you insane. He drove you to the fucking brink and you knew you would still come back and beg for more. He made you insatiable.

When you didn’t immediately answer him, his hand stilled and you whined, shimmying your hips against his hand.

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” He dragged his teeth down the column of your throat, sending chills down your spine.

“Yes.” You sighed, “Whatever you want.”

You felt his smirk against your skin and his fingers started stroking you again. You had to stifle the moans that fought to climb up your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to climax.

“There you go,” He said, pressing tender kisses to the side of your face, “So close, I can feel you. Be a good girl and come for me, yeah?”

His praise sent shockwaves through your body and to quiet yourself and prevent yourself from crying out, you bit down on his shoulder.

“Did so good for me,” He murmured, pulling his hand out and re-buttoning your jeans for you as you fought the daze of your orgasm. He kissed your head and grabbed your hand, “Come on, follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place.”

“Oh— What about Princess?”

“She’ll forgive us once the rumors spread about why we left together.”

You fought the smirk on your face, “Dean is expecting me later—“

Robby turned to look at you, “Fuck Dean, alright? Let him wait up for you and wonder where you are for once. It’s more than that jackass deserves.” He started tugging you by the hand again and you found you didn’t want to argue.

You knew it was wrong, to punish Dean the way he had hurt you, but in truth, you didn’t think he’d care much when you didn’t turn up tonight. You wouldn’t tell Robby this for fear he’d show up at Dean’s apartment intent on fist fighting him, but you knew he’d continued cheating on you the last few weeks. 

It didn’t hurt as much as it had the first time you found out. Probably because you had been hung up on Robby. 

You’d break it off with Dean tomorrow. Right now, you just wanted to let Robby have his way with you.

***

Finally seeing Robby naked for the first time felt as close to a religious experience as you thought you would ever experience. In his bed, you were kissing every freckle, every scar, every tattoo you could reach while your hand was between his legs, stroking his erection.

He looked wrecked and love drunk as you worked him. Your lower lip caught between your teeth as you learned what touches had him moaning, which had him gasping for air, and which had his eyes rolling all the way back in his head. 

It wasn’t long before he tore your hand off him and pinned it above your head, pushing his tip teasingly to your dripping core, “That’s enough of that, I think.” He said, broken voice betraying just how close to the edge you had brought him.

Quickly, you watched as he ripped open a condom and pulled it onto himself. Wasting no time, he gripped your hips and dragged you underneath him before pushing himself inside you. The stretch had you gasping, but he bent his forehead to yours, kissed you through it as he pushed into you. Every thrust was slow and achingly tender. His eyes rarely left yours, only to occasionally bury his face into your neck.

Anytime you suggested a different position, he shot you down, “No, no,” He’d repeat, your legs locked around his hips, “Just like this,” He’d pant, “Want you underneath me just like this.”

When he finished, you muffled his moans with your mouth, thrusting your hips up into his when the intensity of his orgasm had him unable to keep moving through the aftershocks.

Afterwards, you stared up at the ceiling fan, your head resting on his chest.

“I love you, by the way.” You murmured when you could feel yourself drifting into sleep, “Don’t know if I ever said.”

He kissed your hair and dusted his fingers over your shoulder, “You didn’t have to.”

***

2024

It was cool and cloudy in San Diego that morning. You fiddled with the ring on your finger as you stood backstage at the annual American Academy of Emergency Medicine conference. 

Michael stood behind you, hands rubbing reassuring circles into your shoulders, “You’re gonna do so good, baby. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried, I could do this talk in my sleep,” You smirked, “I’m just thinking about the first time I saw you here, when you did your talk.”

He laughed behind you, “Well, it wasn’t here.”

“You know what I mean.” You said and covered one of his hands with yours.

“Yeah,” He said, “If I had known my future wife was in the audience I would’ve picked a better shirt.”

Your grin spread across your face as you looked down at the engagement ring on your finger, “And I probably wouldn’t have worn booty shorts to the airport, but hindsight is 20/20.”

He hummed and then your name was being announced, a brief intro given, and then Michael kissed you quickly before gently pushing you towards the stage.

Later, in your hotel room, the both of you were drunk and sprawled out on the bed. Your head rested on his stomach and he had an arm draped across your chest.

He picked up your left hand and inspected it, “I love seeing this on your finger. Probably should’ve proposed the first time I brought you home.”

You smirked, but there was a nagging thought in the back of your head. One that had been there since he got down on one knee.

“What’s wrong?” Robby asked, even drunk he was ever perceptive of your mood changes.

“Nothing.” You said quickly, “Everything’s perfect.”

He let a moment of silence pass, twisting the ring on your finger between his thumb and forefinger, “You know you can tell me anything, right? Nothing’s too scary or too much.”

You did know, but it didn’t stop your brain from convincing you otherwise. Eventually you swallowed and lifted yourself onto your knees so you could turn to face him.

“Do you ever think about the rate of divorce among emergency medicine doctors?”

He frowned, “Not particularly, no. But I gather you do?”

“I just—“ You sighed, “I love you, obviously, so much. But I—I wonder sometimes if… If getting married just invites the possibility of breaking this. And… And what we have is really good and I don’t—“

“Hey,” He sat up, “Slow down.” He paused, “How long have you been thinking about this?”

You sighed, “I don’t know, since you proposed, probably?”

He raised his eyebrows, “Right, okay.”

You deflated, “You’re mad.”

He shook his head, “Not mad. I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

“I’m sorry.” You could feel your abandonment fears dusting themselves off in your head. You had never felt as secure as you had with Robby. You had felt loved and safe from day one. Your fears that he would leave again, he proved over and over were unfounded. No one had ever shown up for you like this. And that made the prospect of losing him even scarier.

“Tell me more about it.” He said, “Your fears.”

You sighed, “I—It’s okay, we don’t have to. I want to marry you, I do.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” He said gently and wrapped his arms around you so he could pull you to his chest, “But we should still talk it through.”

You swallowed, “If the rate of divorce for ER doctors is so high, does the rate double when it’s two ER doctors instead of just one?”

He’s quiet a moment as he mulled it over, “You ever think that maybe an ER doctor marrying another ER doctor lowers the rate of divorce, rather than increasing it?”

“How do you figure that?”

“Both people understand the crazy schedule and the difficulties of the job. And if you’re like us and work in the same ER, you see each other day in and day out, even with that crazy schedule. Being colleagues probably increases healthy communication and conflict resolution outside the ER.”

Already, you felt soothed, “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Well I have even more compelling evidence for you.”

You smirked, “What’s that?”

“None of those ER doctors that got divorced were married to me.”

You laughed and turned in his arms so you could kiss him, “I love you.” 

After a moment, you pulled away from him slightly, gears turning in your head, “How long of a drive is it to Las Vegas?”

Robby stared at you blankly until his brain began to catch up, “You’re serious?” He asked, his voice breathless.

You nodded, “I want to be your wife. Right now.”

His laugh was high and unbelieving as he ran a hand through his hair, “What about our friends and family—?”

“We can have a real wedding. Maybe a year from now, we do the whole thing right, renew our vows. But I don’t want to wait that long to be yours.”

He smiled, “You’re already mine.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Not legally. Besides, don’t you think there’s something really romantic about getting married in secret, just the two of us?”

After a moment of searching your face, probably trying to make sure this wasn’t some sort of mental break, he nodded, “Okay.” He laughed and shook his head, “Let’s get married.”

***

“The only car we have left is a manual.” The woman running the rental counter had bleached waves and thick black eyeliner. She chewed gum as she spoke, “Can either of you drive a manual?”

“Sorry,” Robby said, grin already spreading across his face as he squeezed your hand, “There’s no automatics left, is that… Did I hear you correctly? Only a manual?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Robby. To her, he probably seemed insane, “Look, can you drive a manual or not?”

He looked back at you, then, smiling and shaking his head, “Yeah, we can both drive stick.”

The two of you had walked out of the rental store, giggling and swinging your hands between each other like children. 

It was a five hour drive, so you bought donuts and coffees. Once in the car, you propped your feet up on the dash and stared over at Robby, who was reacquainting himself with a manual.

“You sure you remember how to drive stick?” You asked, mouth half full of donut.

He glared over at you, but couldn’t resist breaking into a smile anyway, “It’s like riding a bike.”

Placing his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, he started the car and began backing out of the parking lot. As he peeled out and fiddled with the radio, you rolled the windows down and were surprised when tears pricked your eyes when you looked back over at him.

You thought about all the heartbreak and lonely nights the last eleven years. The times you thought you’d be alone forever, or worse, stuck in a relationship with someone who didn’t want you. You mulled over all the nights you had allowed yourself to dream about that doctor you met in Florida. A fifteen hour drive that seemed to have rearranged all the planets and constellations of your life. 

He had been your north star over the last decade, always seeming to guide you back to where you were supposed to be. Which was here. In this car. Windows down as you sang along to the radio. His hand held yours as it rested on top of the gear shift. Taking you to your wedding. Taking you home.

[darksparklesficrecs]

Done For

Summary: Jess has epilepsy and has a service dog. He helps her navigate her disorder, even the depression. When he takes to alerting every time Robby is around, it leads to interesting conversations and Robby is intrigued.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, epilepsy, service animal, mentions of suicide

A/N: I saw someone post about something like this, I can't find it anywhere. If you find it, tag the original poster in the comments so they get credit. I like when women give men a hard time and this OC is really good at it. Enjoy!

People had a hard time minding their own business. Jess was used to it. She was used to people watching her. Well, more watching her service dog. Roger was a four-year-old golden retriever; he was cute and he drew attention. She wished he were a little uglier, maybe people wouldn’t stare so much. But she loved the dummy.

“Jess Kahan?” Someone in scrubs called out.

“Yeah!” Jess got to her feet, Roger close to her heel as she weaved through the crowd.

“What’s going on today?” The woman with bangs had a kind smile.

“I uh, had a seizure earlier. It wasn’t a big one, but it’s been a while since I had one. Anyway, I banged my head pretty bad and I might have broken my wrist.” She sighed.

“Rough morning. Let’s get you back.” She smiled as she led her into a triage bay.

“I burned my thigh, too. I was making coffee. I don’t think it’s anything bad, though.” Jess shrugged as she sat on the table.

“Okay. Best to check it out. I’m Dr. McKay, by the way.” She pulled on her gloves and started her exam.

“Nice to meet you. This is Roger.” Jess nodded to the dog sitting patiently on her right side.

“He’s got a sweet face.” She hummed as she held Jess’ wrist in her hand. “Yeah, that looks broken. We’ll get some imaging to confirm. I want to order a CT for your head too, I’m worried about a concussion.”

“I figured as much. Not my first rodeo.” Jess huffed.

“Dr. McKay, Dana says bay 3 is open if you need.” A nurse popped into the room.

“Perfect timing.” She pulled her gloves off. “We’ll get you set up there, have you change and look at that burn while we wait for imaging.” McKay nodded as she left to grab a wheelchair.

“Fastest I’ve ever gotten back outside of having a seizure in the lobby.” Jess chuckled.

“You’re either very lucky or unlucky today.” McKay laughed as she helped her into the chair.

There were looks as they went through the ER, everyone craning their neck to look at the ‘cute doggy’.

“Do you need help getting into the gown?” McKay asked.

“Naw, we got it.” Jess nodded.

“Alright, I’ll give you some time. I’m going to present to my attending and we’ll be back.” She smiled as she closed the curtain.

Jess was a pro at securing hospital gowns. She’d been wearing them since she was eleven. She had taught Roger how to pull the tie tight for her for fun. She had her bag on the ground next to the bed. She bent down to grab it when the curtain opened. Dr. McKay was standing there with a tall, older man with the saddest eyes Jess had ever seen.

“Oh, let me grab that for you.” McKay went to help.

“Naw, let him earn his dinner.” Jess smiled. “Roger bag, please.” The dog took the handle in his mouth and put his front paws on the bed to hand it to her. “Good boy.”

“Impressive.” The man smiled.

“Well, if that impresses you, you’re mind will be blown when he opens my meds for me.” Jess chuckled, he smiled.  

“I’m Dr. Robinavitch, you can call me Dr. Robby. Dr. McKay said you had a seizure this morning. Tell me a little about that.” Robby pulled on his gloves as he started examining Jess.

“Well, I was feeling off this morning. Thought I just needed breakfast. I was making coffee when he alerted me. I remember falling but that’s it.” Jess winced as he prodded at the spot on her head that hit the ground.

“Where did you fall?”

“Kitchen. No broken glass, but my coffee spilled on my thigh.”

“Do you mind if I look at it?” Robby asked.

“No, go for it.” Jess pulled the gown up her legs.

“Oh yeah. That’s a nasty burn. Nothing too bad, though. Less concerned about that than I am your head.” Robby noted as he looked it over.

“You mentioned you hadn’t had one in a while. When was the last one?” McKay asked, her arms crossed.

“About six months, I think. Roughly.” Jess pulled her iPad out of her bag, handing the bag to Roger.

“Any idea what triggered it?” McKay asked.

“No. Well…I’ve been a little stressed lately. Work shit, you know.” Jess shrugged.

“What do you do?” Robby asked.

“I’m a middle school English teacher. Tough work dealing with 12-year-olds all day.” Jess nodded.

“I can imagine.” Robby chuckled. “They must think he’s cool.” Robby gestured to Roger.

“Oh yeah. Instant favorite teacher with this guy.” Jess chuckled.

“How’s he like it?” McKay asked.

“Loves it. I always say he’s part golden retriever, part attention hound.” Jess nodded.

“I’d like to run some blood work to be safe. It may just be the stress, but I’d like to make sure there isn’t anything else going on.” Robby said.

“Sure. Cover all the bases. I gotcha.” Jess nodded. Roger stood up and went to sit on Robby’s feet.

“Is it okay?” Robby put his hand out.

“He sat on your feet. It’s all good.” Jess nodded. Robby bent down and gave Roger some pets.

“Why Roger?” Robby looked up.

“I wanted him to have the stupidest name for a dog. Boring human names on pets always makes me laugh. They tried to name him Spot. Why the hell would you name a dog with no spots, Spot? I was listening to the radio when he brought him home and The Who came on. So, Roger he was.” Jess shrugged.

“I like it.” Robby chuckled. “Does he usually sit on people’s feet?”

“Nope.” Jess smiled.

“Must be special, Boss.” McKay smiled.

“Something like that.” Jess nodded. Robby cocked his head in confusion.

“Right. We’ll be back once we have your imaging and blood work back.” Robby cleared his throat.

Jess sat quietly reading as she waited for the results to come in. She had clocked that she was low priority and would be waiting. She was used to it.

She heard a little girl crying a few beds down. Something about a broken foot. Her mom had been trying to keep her calm for the better part of twenty minutes. Jess pulled her slippers from her bag and stood up.

“Come on, bud.” She gestured for Roger to follow. She peeked around the curtain. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry, I know she’s loud. I’m trying to keep her quiet.” The mom looked frazzled.

“Oh, no! I get it. I just…what’s her name?” Jess stood at the end of the bed.

“Gabriela.”

“Does she like dogs?”

“Yeah, she loves them.” Her mom looked confused.

“Gabriela, would you like to meet my friend Roger?” Roger came around into view. The little girl stopped crying, looking at the dog. “Roger?” She sniffled.

“Yeah. He likes helping kids feel better. You think he might be able to help you?” Jess smiled. The little girl nodded. “Roger, up.” He put his front paws up so Gabriela could pet him.

“He’s cute.” She smiled.

“Thank you.” Her mom sighed.

“Of course.” Jess nodded.

Robby watched from across the department. He was fascinated by the interaction. She was intriguing him, the way she was so calm about everything. He was used to hysterics and drama. She wasn’t that.

“Cap, you’re starting to drool.” Dana snorted. Robby snapped back to reality.

“Shut up.” He grumbled.

“She’s pretty.”

“She’s a patient.”

“Only for a few hours.” Dana shrugged.

“It’s unethical. I’m not having this conversation.” He huffed, stomping past a laughing Dana.

“Hey, Gabriela I got some medicine for you.” Dana walked up with a paper cup. “Looks like you made a new friend.” Dana smiled.

“His name is Roger!” She giggled.

“You coming for my job, pal?” Dana spoke to the dog.

“He’s squeamish around blood, I think you’re okay.” Jess smiled.

“You should be laying down. You’re a fall risk.” Dana raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve been a fall risk for over thirty years.” Jess snorted.

“Roger is quicker at rounds than I seem to be today.” Robby appeared.

“He’s a nose to the grindstone kind of guy.” Jess smiled. “It was nice to meet you, Gabriela. Roger and I have to go.” Roger hoped off the bed, looking up at Jess for a second before curling up on Robby’s feet again.

“Aw, really?” Gabriela whined.

“Yeah, don’t want anyone getting trouble because I’m out of bed.” Jess laughed at the confused look on Robby’s face as he stared at the dog. “But don’t worry. This is the best hospital in Pittsburgh. They’re magic here. Promise.” Jess winked as she walked back to her bed, Roger in toe.

“You got a way with the beasts, Robby.” Dana smiled.

“Don’t start.” Robby warned.

Jess yawned as she played one of her idle games on her iPad. Roger was curled at the end of her bed. Robby came in with Dana behind him.

“Rads are back and that wrist is broken. CT came back clean. I want to send it out for additional neuro consult, if you’re okay waiting a bit longer.” He said.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Jess smiled. Dana set up some bandaging material next to her.

“I’m still waiting-” Roger hopped down and sat on Robby’s feet again. “I-I’m waiting on blood work still. I’m sorry, but he doesn’t seem to be doing that with anyone else.” Robby was flustered.

“Yeah. I’m surprised, actually. In this environment at least.” Jess smiled. “What does it mean?” Robby sighed.

“I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your nurse.” Jess shrugged.

“Oh, now I need to know.” Robby smirked.

“I’ve seen him at his worst, Kid. Not much you could say that I haven’t heard.” Dana smiled as she wrapped Jess’ wrist.

“Well, on top of my epilepsy, or maybe because of it, I have a depressive disorder. That’s him alerting that you’re having a depressive episode.” Jess said. Robby looked at her, stunned.

“Smart dog.” Dana snorted.

“I’m not depressed.” Robby cleared his throat.

“He’d begged to differ. He usually alerts to someone when we’re in the ER. Usually it’s Dr. Abbot.” Jess shrugged. Dana chortled.

“I…well this is not what I expected.” Robby sighed. “I will be back later. With your results.” Robby left quicker than he ever had from a patient’s room.

“Oh, you got him all sorts of flustered. You didn’t hear that from me.” Dana chuckled.

“He’s cute. He married? No ring on his finger.” Jess asked.

“Nope. He’s single as hell.” Dana focused on the bandage. “He’ll never initiate anything, by the way. It’s an ethics thing.” She said.

“I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Well, once you aren’t a patient, come by and ask him.” Dana smiled. “You’re all set, sweetheart.” Dana left.

The consult took longer than Jess had thought. She had drifted off at some point, Roger lying next to her.

“Alright, Miss Kahan- Oh. Sorry.” Robby came in, startling Jess awake.

“S’okay. Just nodded off. All good?”

“Yes, everything is clean. It was probably stress that triggered the seizure. Come back in if you have another, but you’re all set.” Robby nodded.

“Well, thank you. I appreciate your work. You got a good team, too.” Jess smiled.

“I’ll pass it along. It was good to meet you. You, too, Roger, even if you’re airing my dirty laundry.” Robby scratched Roger’s head.

“Have a good night, Dr. Robby.”

Jess sat at home thinking over the events of the day. The TV show she had turned on, long forgotten. The only thing she could think about was that sad doctor. Roger sat looking at her, not alerting, just knowing.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re going back tomorrow. Stop giving me that look.” Jess waved him off.

Robby was typing up charts, trying to get them done as fast as possible. He was ready to get out of there.

“Hey, Dr. Robby? There’s someone here to see you?” Mateo came up to the computer.

“What do they want?” Robby Groaned.

“Didn’t ask. They said they were a patient here. She’s got a cute dog.” Mateo shrugged. Robby sat up straight.

“Oh. Yeah, you can bring her back.” Robby said. He tried to ignore Dana laughing to herself next to him.

“Hi, Dr. Robby.” Jess smiled.

“Miss Kahan. Everything alright?”  Robby stood to greet her.

“Oh yeah. No seizures today.” She crossed her heart. Roger padded over and laid on Robby’s feet. “I see you haven’t started therapy in the past 16 hours.” She laughed.

“Roger, I thought we were friends.” Robby sighed.

“I was just wondering, and if you’re uncomfortable, feel free to say no, if you’d maybe want to get coffee or dinner sometime?” Jess asked. Robby stared at her for a minute, not used to such confidence.

“I, um, I don’t know if that would be right.” Robby cleared his throat.

“Cap, she’s not a patient now. Take the girl and her dog to get a coffee.” Dana sighed.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. I just thought my dog clearly likes you. You might like company every once in a while.” Jess shrugged.

“Okay. Yeah. I get off in a half hour. There’s a café up the road that’s nice.” Robby smiled.

“Okay. Sounds good. We’ll be there.” Jess smiled. “Come on, Roger.” They turned to leave, a bit more bounce in their step.

“Thank god! Getting you to do something good for yourself is like pulling teeth.” Dana groaned.

“You’re so dramatic.” Robby shook his head. “Why does this feel like you two planned it?” Robby crossed his arms.

“I nudged. Nothing more.” Dana said.

“You two seem familiar. What’s that about?”

“She’s been in here a couple times. Never when you’re on shift. She teaches at the school my kid goes to. We run into each other from time to time.” She shrugged.

“Why didn’t you set her up with Abbot then?” Robby sat back at his computer.

“Oh I tried. But those two were at each other’s throats from the get-go. It’s really funny to watch, actually.” Dana chuckled.

Robby hadn’t finished his charts so fast. He was practically tapping his foot, waiting for Dr. Abbot to come in for handover.

“You could try and clear the board, ya know?” Jack Abott sighed as he sidled up to the desk.

“You first.” Robby cocked his head.

“You look more excited than usual to get out of here.” Jack looked him up and down.

“He’s got a date with Jess Kahan.” Dana looked proud of herself.

“Oh Jesus. That girl is a walking menace. She’s too damn smart for her own good.” Jack shook his head as he sat at his computer.

“I heard you two didn’t get along.” Robby laughed.

“She argues. I argue back. It’s like tennis. I can’t say I dislike it.” Jack shrugged. “Go on your date. Tell her I said she’s a little shit that still owes me for that Red Bull she stole from me.” Jack huffed.

Robby stood outside the café, his hands suddenly sweaty and shaky. He couldn’t remember the last time he was on a date. He could see her sitting, sipping tea at a table in the back. He took a deep breath and charged forward.

“Oh good. I was a little worried you’d stand me up.” Jess smiled.

“Not that kind of guy.” He smiled back. “Let me grab my coffee and I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll be here.” She nodded. Robby got his black coffee and sat across from Jess, letting himself see how pretty she was. When he was at work, he had trained his mind not to see anyone as attractive. It made things too complicated if he did.

“Jack says hi.” Robby sipped his coffee. Jess snorted.

“No, he doesn’t. That grumpy fuck.” Jess chuckled.

“Well, his words were, and I’m quoting him here,  ‘tell that little shit she still owes me a Red Bull’. So, kind of.” Robby smiled.

“He’s never getting that Red Bull.” Jess shook her head. “You from Pittsburgh?”

“No. From everywhere. It’s complicated.” Robby cleared his throat. “What about you?”

“Yep, kind of. We lived in the middle of nowhere until the seizures started. My mom wanted to be closer to a good children’s hospital.”

“Why teaching?”

“I  pretty much only had books to keep me company as a kid. My mom was a little paranoid about TV and movies. All the flashing, ya know? I liked learning and I wanted to help kids like learning.” She smiled, watching the authority and responsibility fade from his face. The Real Robby starting to come through.

“Noble.” Robby nodded. “What’s your favorite book?”

“Complicated question. Different days, different moods, it all affects the answer. But, right now I’d say Emma.” Jess smiled. “What about you?”

“I don’t get a lot of time to read for fun. I think the last book I read for fun was The Martian. I remember liking it enough.” He shrugged, watching the wheels turn behind her eyes. She was calculating, but not in a menacing way. She had a mind that was expansive in a way he was not used to.

“I’ve heard worse answers.”

“Like what?”

“Colleen Hoover is my mortal enemy.”

“I’ll avoid that then.” He chuckled. Roger had made himself comfortable on Robby’s feet.

“You never gave me your first name.”

“Right, sorry. Michael.”

“Michael. Mike?”

“Nope. Michael.”

“Mikey then.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“I like a bit of danger.” She had a mischievous look in her eyes.

“I can tell.” He leaned forward.

“So, Mikey,” Robby groaned and dropped his head. “You want to tell me why my dog thinks you need to be 5150’d?”

“Are you always so blunt?” Robby looked taken aback.

“I spend a lot of time with kids, they don’t have time to beat around the bush for some reason. It rubs off.” She shrugged. “You can tell me to fuck off. I can take it, promise.”

“I’m sure you can.” Robby sighed. “I have a hard job. I deal with death every day. A lot of it sticks to me, even when I try not to let it.” He shrugged.

“Sure, makes sense. But there’s more. I can see it.” Jess narrowed her eyes. “We’ll leave that for the second date.” She leaned back in her chair.

“There’s a second date?”

“Yeah, my dog needs to make sure you don’t off yourself. He’ll be worried sick.” She smiled.

“Can’t have that.” Robby was falling hard. He was going to continue their verbal fencing when they were interrupted by a woman wearing too much perfume and leggings.

“What a cute puppy! Hi, cutie!” She cooed at Roger.

“He’s working.” Jess said, her face falling.

“Oh, he doesn’t deserve to be working. He should be just getting cuddles.” She reached her hand out.

“He doesn’t bite, but if you don’t stop talking to him, I will.” Jess spat.

“What a bitch.” The woman scoffed and walked off.

“Jesus.” Robby laughed.

“You get tired of people being entitled pretty quick.” Jess sighed.

“I bet.”

“So, where are you taking me for the next one?” Jess smiled.

“Oh. I don’t know. What do you eat?” Robby felt himself get nervous.

“Food mostly.”

“Jack was right, you are a menace.” Robby chuckled.

“I keep life interesting at least.” Jess liked watching his brown eyes light up. “I like sushi.”

“Sushi. Okay. Sushi at that place on Fifth Ave?”

“Okay. Good start.”

“Start? Okay. Let me think,” Jess liked watching his wrinkles deepen as he concentrated. “There’s an arcade not far from there. One of my med students said it was nice.”

“It was ‘nice’?”

“She said something like, ‘fucking sick’ or something. They have drinks and you seem competitive.”

“Violently so.” “So we can have our first fight at the same time.” Robby looked smug.

“Okay. You pass. When?”

“Friday?”

“Predictable, but I have a big test this week, so I’ll accept it.” Jess nodded.

“What’s the test?”

“Lord of the Flies. The boys keep missing the point, I’m punishing them for not paying attention to the actual message.”

“Well, if they aren’t getting it, maybe it’s the teacher.” Robby cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” Jess chuckled. “This class has been the hardest to teach. So, maybe you aren’t wrong.” She shrugged.

“I can’t imagine being a kid today.” Robby shook his head.

“Yeah. They can’t function and I can’t blame them.” Jess sighed. “Okay. Let’s walk.” Jess got up and started for the door.

“Whoa, what?” Robby scrambled after her.

“I need to appease the indignant spirit of PTMC.” She said she walked into a corner shop.

“Do you ever just slow down? You go a million miles a minute.” Robby said as he wandered the aisles with her.

“When you develop a disorder that could kill you one day, you tend not to fuss with going slow too much.” She said over her shoulder.

“Fair enough.”

“You want anything?” She asked as she pulled a large Red Bull from the fridge.

“No. I’m good.” He shook his head. “I got this.” He said, pulling his wallet out.

“Nope. I repay my debts myself. I’m a bad bitch as the kids say.” She nodded as she paid the cashier.

“You are something that’s for sure.” Robby followed after her as they walked back into the ER. “Here, I got my badge.” He scanned it and walked in, ignoring the looks from the intake desk.

“Hey, Bridget. Where’s the grumpy asshole?” Jess asked, walking up to the desk.

“Jess! He’s around somewhere. You doing okay?” She looked from Jess to Robby, confused.

“Yeah, just trying to get Abbot to stop whining about me stealing his damn drink.” She shrugged.

“Dr. Robby, do you need something?” Bridget asked. Robby’s face flushed.

“He’s with me.” Jess winked. “He’s being a gentleman and everything. Tried to pay.” Jess laughed.

“Oh! Good for you two!” She smiled and went back to work.

Jack came out of a patient's room, typing on his tablet. When he looked up, he laughed and shook his head, marching up to Jess.

“You got nerve showing your face here.” Jack crossed his arms.

“Please. You crave our interactions.” Jess scoffed.

“I crave them about as much as I crave driving a nail in my ear.” He sighed. Roger walked over and made himself comfortable on his feet.

“It isn’t just me!” Robby said.

“He alert to you too?” Jack asked.

“He wouldn’t stop.” Robby sighed.

“Told you, you need a therapist. Takes a damn dog for you to listen.” Jack shook his head.

“Hey! That’s my damn dog, I get to say that. Not you. That’s Roger to you, asshole.” Jess warned, pointing at him.

“I’ll call him what I want when he’s in my business.” Jack said.

“Here.” Jess shoved the Red Bull at him. “Now you can stop whining.”

“I do not whine.” He took the can.

“Worse than the middle schoolers in my class.” Jess laughed.

“I’d whine if I was in your class too. Having to listen to you every day would drive me nuts too.”

“Jesus. You two are terrible together.” Robby scoffed.

“He loves me.” Jess smiled.

“I tolerate.”

“You got excited when you saw me, admit it.”

“Never.” Jack popped the can open and chugged it.

“Have fun with those heart palpitations all night.”

“Good thing I’m a doctor in a hospital.”

“Good thing Bridget keeps you on your feet.”

“I keep myself on my feet.”

“You do not.” Bridget corrected.

“Don’t you have patients?” Jess crossed her arms.

“Yes. So, get out of my ER and take your damn dog with you.”

“Happily.” Jess gestured for Roger to get up. “See you next episode.” Jess waved and walked off.

“Don’t forget to refill your meds!” He called after her. “How was the date?” Jack asked.

“Fuck. I might be done for.” Robby shook his head.

“Mikey, you walking me home or what?” Jess crossed her arms.

“Mikey?” Jack lit up, not even trying to hide his delight and laughter.

“It won’t end well if you try it.” Robby warned as he ran after Jess. He was so done for.

[darksparklesficrecs]

You could do it with me.

Jack Abbot x F!Reader - Best friends to lovers!!!!!!!

11.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: quickly resolved angst; patient death; coding that veteran for two hours; reference to DUI; suicidal ideation; discussion of Jack's injury; reader wants marriage and kids (I know this is not everyone’s fave or something everyone wants, but I needed it for the storyline so I’m sorry if it's not your thing); reader and Jack are idiots; reference to Shen’s wedding; reference and allusion to sex; allusion to masturbation; reader is briefly held hostage with a knife to her neck and gets a very light cut; mention of drugs generally; mention of demerol; blood; no use of y/n or related

This is for the A Doctor a Day event hosted by @ananonymousaffair, @clubsoft and @letsgobarbs. Thank you for hosting such an awesome event! My prompt was "You are the very beating and pulse of my heart" and my color was black!

Summary: A message from your college ex changes everything.

AN: I love best friends to lovers. I love when they're so god damn blind to each other's romantic love and interest. I love when they do things that are so beyond what best friends (generally) do. Also for the record I do think people of opposite genders can just be platonic best friends. I challenged myself to stay under 10k and lost, but I was really close so I'm taking it. For some reason I really ended up struggling with this and don't really love or even necessarily particularly like how it came out in the end. I'm just very unsure about it. Could not articulate why to save my life. I hope it ended up coming out and reading okay. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy!

You met Jack Abbot on the first day of your intern year, night shift.

He was an R4, but with the way he carried himself and practiced and the fact that he was older, you assumed he was your attending. You were both drawn to each other immediately. For both of you it was pretty much love at first sight and interaction. Neither of you could explain why if asked. It just was. By the end of your first twelve hours knowing each other you were in love with each other. 

Not, of course, that either of you told the other that. Because there was no way the other would feel the same. So instead you became best friends, almost instantly. Like after two weeks everyone had noticed how close you were. People hadn’t started assuming you were together at that point but they were assuming it was heading in that direction. 

Your reasons for not telling each other were slightly different then. For you, you were new and an intern to Jack’s R4, were quite sure Jack was not interested in you like that and, even that early on, having him in your life as a best friend was better than losing him and not having him in your life at all. For Jack, he was an R4 and you were an intern, plus he was older than you and missing a foot, he truly believed you weren’t and would never be into him like that and, as it was for you, even that early on, having you in his life as a best friend was better than losing you and not having you in his life at all.

And for a while you really were just best friends. But then over time you both seemed to greatly expand your definition of best friends. And after a while you were doing almost everything a couple did except for kissing and having sex and admitting feelings and saying you loved each other. To you and Jack though, it was all just being best friends, all things best friends did. 

The true beginning of that expansion was the first time you spent the night at Jack’s house, about three months after you met. 

Jack is confused when he sees you sitting at the hub eating the other half of the granola bar you’d started and not finished last night. It’s strange because he just assumed you guys would grab breakfast so why would you be eating. “Aren’t you off?” he asks you as he walks up to where you’re sitting.

“I am, but I just got a text from my neighbor that the AC in my apartment building is broken and won’t be fixed until this evening so I’m just gonna hang here.” You shrug. “Maybe work, maybe try to catch some sleep in the on-call room and then head home and pray it’s working.”

It has been disgustingly hot and humid the last week or ten days and being in your AC-less apartment on the fifth floor during the day was simply not happening. You’d rather be at the hospital getting shitty sleep in the on-call room or working. 

“Wasn’t this last shift our sixth straight night on?” Jack asks, with a raise of his brows.

“Indeed it was,” you sigh. “Pretty irritating because I would just like to go sleep. But what can you do? I’m not going home to sleep in this heat.”

“Yeah. No, you’re not.” It’s short, somewhere between disbelief and concern. “You’re not staying here either. Go grab your shit. You can crash at my place.” 

“Really?”

“No, I just said it to be a dick and take back the offer when you agreed.” Jack gives you a pointed really? look. “Yes, really. Now go get your shit before we both end up getting pulled back into something.”

“You don’t have to do that Jack, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to intrude like that.” You shake your head at him a little. 

“I know I don’t have to offer, but you need to get some real sleep. I know you know that. You’ll make yourself sick. And you’re not intruding, you know that too.” Jack tilts his head at you.

“Aw,” you tease him a little, “are you worried about me?”

Jack rolls his eyes at you. You both know he is and that he does worry about you and that you worry about him. That’s what best friends do. “Okay, stay here then.” He shrugs.

“No, no. I’ll take you up on it if you’re still offering,” you say quickly. 

“I am.”

“Okay, let me grab my stuff.” You get up and head to the lockers, grab your things and make your way over to Jack. 

Once you’re out of the Pitt Jack turns to you as you walk towards your guys’ favorite breakfast spot. You haven’t discussed going there but it’s just unspoken at this point. “Why didn’t you just ask? How many times now have I told you you’re welcome at my place whenever? Open door or whatever. It’s not like you’ve never been to my place and don’t know I have a guest room.”

You shrug as he opens the door for you. “It felt like there was a difference between come over whenever and spend the night, or what’s our night, at my place.”

“Well there’s not,” he tells you as you slide into a booth sitting across from each other. “I’m telling you that now.”

Once you finish breakfast the two of you head to Jack’s place. Like Jack said, you’ve been to his place before. 

“You should take my bed,” Jack says once you’re at his place and both of you have set all your stuff down. “The guest bed mattress is really not the greatest. I need to replace it but nobody ever sleeps on it so I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

You’re thrown for a second at the prospect of sleeping in Jack’s bed. Even without him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. My cheap mattress at home isn’t really the greatest.” 

“No seriously, you’ll probably wake up hurting.” He gives you a firm look. “Just let me take it.” 

“Oh, yes, because if it’s going to hurt the person who sleeps on it, the best idea is surely to give it to the older of the two of us.” You give him a look. 

“Did you just call me old?” Jack says in mock offence. 

“No, I just said you were older than me.” You soften a little. “I can tell your hip and back are hurting after six straight Jack.” You both know you’re right. This shift in particular he could really feel his hip and back compensating as his prosthetic caused him a little more pain than usual. “So just let me take the guest room.”

That makes Jack blush a little and you feel bad. You hadn’t meant to hit a nerve or make him self-conscious. “Hate than you can tell, but alright. You wanna shower before?” 

“If you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I did. You’re going to have to use mine though. I don’t have any shampoo or whatever in the spare. And I’ll leave you a shirt and some boxers on my bed so you don’t have to get back into your scrubs.” He says it so casually, like he’s totally unaffected by it when he is in fact very, very affected. The thought of you in his clothes has him hardening. And the thought of wearing his clothes makes you feel warm and start to get slick between your thighs. 

You clear your throat. “Thank you.” 

Jack nods, flick his head to tell you to follow him and you do. He steps into his bathroom for a second and then comes back out. “Fresh towel and washcloth on the counter for you. I found a spare toothbrush too. Clothes will be on the bed. Shout if you need anything.”

It’s not until you’re in Jack’s shower squeezing some of his shampoo into your hand that you realize you’re going to smell like him at the end of this. You get even slicker between your legs at the thought and spend the entire shower telling yourself to stop thinking about him as anything other than your best friend. It doesn’t really work. 

And getting dried off and into Jack’s clothes does nothing to help the matter. His black shirt is oversized on you and he said boxers but he really meant boxer briefs which make you feel far closer to him in a way. 

You find Jack sitting on his couch reading. “Hey. Thank you for the shower and clothes.” Jack looks up at you and has to carefully control his reaction. He’s glad you’re far enough away that you don’t see the way his jaw clenches at how unbelievably hot you look in his clothes. It makes him feel possessive in a way he knows he shouldn’t. He’s also glad he’s sitting far enough away that you can’t see the bulge in his pants that starts to grow. 

“Of course.”

“I’m going to try and get some sleep. Wake me whenever you need me to leave.” Jack’s not waking you up. As far as he’s concerned you never need to leave. “And I hope you sleep well.” You give him a shy nod and turn to head back to the guest room. 

“Sleep well,” he calls after you. 

From then on, going to each other’s places after work slowly became a thing. By the end of your intern year it was far more common for you to end up at Jack’s place or him to end up at yours after work. Sometimes you’d spend what was your night at Jack’s, sometimes you wouldn’t. He only spent the night at yours once when you both fell asleep on your couch. You didn’t have a spare room and no way were you making Jack sleep on your couch and you knew he’d never accept your bed with you on the couch.

And then one day about a year and a half after meeting and being best friends both of you were clearly sore from your run of shifts and Jack floated the idea. 

“You wanna just sleep in my bed with me? It’s far more comfortable. And big enough so we don’t have to like… be particularly close or anything.” It takes a lot for him not to tack on ‘unless you want.’

“Oh.” His offer catches you by surprise. It feels like it should mean something, but best friends sleep in the same beds, right? It’s not that big of a deal. “Yeah, sure. That would be nice, thank you.” 

After you both shower you and Jack slide into his bed, staying respectfully at the edge of the side of the bed each of you is on. You wake up much closer, about a foot between you, and both of you have to fight the urge to snuggle into the other and try to use this opportunity to express your real feelings for each other.

After that, sleeping in the same bed became your usual thing. It opened up staying at your place more often after a while when you slowly started sleeping closer together since you had a smaller mattress. And before either of you knew it you had a drawer at Jack’s place and he had a drawer at yours, both of you had your toiletries in the other’s shower and on the other’s bathroom counter. It happened so naturally neither of you truly realized the implication for a while, and when you did you convinced yourselves that it was something best friends did.

You also convinced yourselves that getting ready in the bathroom together at the same time, bumping into each other and being close and Jack sometimes shirtless and you sometimes in just a bra and pants or shorts was something best friends did. And you wearing Jack’s clothes just because you liked to, not because you needed to borrow them, without asking him and wearing his shirt and boxer briefs to bed because they were comfortable was a best friends thing. So was Jack sleeping in just a pair of pajama pants and eventually just his boxer briefs in the same bed as you. Laying in his lap with your head on his chest cuddling or him snuggling up to you after a bad day as you watched a movie together was also just something best friends did. 

And then Jack had a really bad day. 

“Jack,” you say softly, moving your head down to try and get him to look at you as he keeps doing compressions. “We have to let him go.” Both you and Jack are sweaty, as are most of the people in the room with you. You’ve been coding the patient in front of you for two hours now. 

“Not your call to make,” he pants out. But it’s laced with anger and frustration. “You’re an R3 and I’m the attending. It’s not your call to make. So either keep running the code or get out.” It’s pretty close to snarled and makes you grimace. You and everybody in the room know that Jack’s anger and frustration isn’t truly at you. 

Jack knows you’re right but he can’t bring himself to stop. Because it’s unfair. It’s so fucking unfair. 

“Jack. Look at me.” He doesn’t stop compressions but he does lift his eyes to yours after a few seconds. “You know that I’m with you and just as aggressive as you. You know that if I thought for a second there was even the slightest chance of us getting him back I wouldn’t be telling you we have to let him go.” You nod at him, watch his jaw clench. The protective eye glasses he’s wearing might fool others into thinking that’s what’s making his eyes shiny but you know better. “He’s gone, Jack.” 

He just looks at you for another minute as he does compressions before he finally stops, panting hard. You both look up at the monitor. “Asystole,” you say quietly. You try to be quicker than Jack but aren’t and Jack’s the one to confirm with his stethoscope and you shut the monitor off. 

He pulls it away and puts it back on his neck as he speaks and glances at his watch. “Time of death 06:57.”

Jack is silent as he pulls his gloves, trauma gown and glasses off, tossing them in the biohazard bin before walking out. You tell everyone thank you before doing the same as Jack and walking out of the trauma room, head on a swivel as you look for him even though you’re pretty sure you know exactly where he is. It’s all but confirmed for you when you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity. 

It is confirmed when you step out onto the roof. You hate it when he stands on that side of the railing, it always scares the shit out of you because you always worry one day he’s going to do it. And if he was, today would likely be that day. You’re one of three people who work at the hospital other than Jack who knows that when it hit midnight seven hours ago it became the anniversary of the day of his injury. So yeah. With the significance of the day and the fact that you just coded a veteran for two hours, if he was going to do it, today seems like it could be the day. 

“You know you’re not allowed to leave me,” you call to him as you walk closer. Jack doesn’t say anything. “Seriously.” You reach the rail right behind him. “What the fuck am I gonna do if you jump?” 

Jack lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s unfair. It’s a fucking joke. Surviving over there to come back and be taken out by a drunk driver. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers as he says it. “What the fuck is the point? Of any of this anymore?” 

“It is unfair. And it’s pretty fucking cruel of the universe to have this happen ever, but especially to have it happen and put it in front of you today.” You let out a long breath. “And I don’t know what the point is either sometimes, or I lose sight of it. But I think the point is all the ones you can and do save and help, Jack. And if you jump then you can’t save or help anyone else. Civilian, service member or vet. You can’t teach others, pass on what you’ve learned. Every student and resident who comes through here would be worse off.” 

Jack knows you’re right. Some part of him wants to almost be mad at you for the way that you’re right and know what to say. He’s not though. He looks back at you a little to acknowledge he heard you. To tell you that you’re right and he knows it. 

“Will you come here, please, Jack?”

He gives a little shake of his head and lets out a shuddery breath before he turns and ducks under the rail so he’s standing right next to you. You turn into him and give him a hug. Jack returns it tightly and you can feel how hard he swallows. You know the last place he wants to show any further emotion is here so you pull out of the hug. 

“Let’s get out of here.” You grab Jack’s hand and start walking. Jack follows and the two of you only drop hands once someone else gets on the elevator with you. 

You guys manage to get out fairly quickly and unsurprisingly end up at Jack’s place. You take turns showering before crawling into bed together, both exhausted and ready to just pass out. You roll on your sides and look at each other. You know Jack needs to let some emotion out and you consider going to sleep in the guest room so he can be alone but the thought of him being alone today, especially after that code, makes you sad.

“Jack?” you say his name softly. He raises his eyebrows at you. “I know the real question you went up there looking for an answer to. Why were you the one to survive? And I’m not going to pretend to know the answer. I know this might be selfish of me, but I just want you to know that I’m really glad you were the one to survive.”

Jack’s mind spins. He can’t believe you knew that was the question. He can in a way, because it’s you and you always seem to know but part of him still can’t comprehend someone caring for him and knowing him how you do. And he wishes more than anything in the moment that he could kiss you. But he can’t. And he can’t risk losing you. His mind also spins trying to answer the question, why him, why did he survive over there, why does he survive over here? And it spins like it always does on this day, scenes of this day all those years ago playing in the background of his mind constantly.

He shakes his head a little at you, eyes glassy. He really didn’t want to cry. “You can come here, if you want, Jack.” 

Jack nods this time and slides over to you. You pull him close to you and wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck and lets himself cry. You run your hands through his hair for the first time without even realizing it and keep doing it. Scratch at his scalp sometimes, play with the curls at the nape of his neck. You wish you could pull his head from your neck and kiss him, tell him you love him and have him know you mean it as more than just a friend. 

After that it became your guys’ normal. Cuddling together in bed, sleeping tangled up together or you on Jack’s chest or him on yours or with him as the big spoon or you as the big spoon, you running your hands through his hair, something you discovered relaxed him immensely and helped him fall asleep. 

Neither of you really dated over the years, not as such. It was just another thing that made everyone think you were already together or heavily in denial. As an intern and resident you didn’t really have the time, and it just wasn’t how you wanted to spend your free time at that point in your life. Jack theoretically had the time but he just didn’t want to put the effort into it really. He was content with you, even non-romantically. As you were with him. You did want more though, you did want to get married and have kids one day. With someone. You knew it would never be Jack and that if you wanted that you were eventually going to have to get over Jack and go try. You just never really brought yourself to.

Occasionally over the years each of you would pick someone up at a bar or somewhere and have some casual sex. Sometimes it turned into a bit of a friends with benefits situation and you’d see the person more than once. That was all more common for you. Jack wasn’t super into casual sex or friends with benefits. You went on a couple of dates to appease some friends and try to get over Jack. He did the same to try and get over you. Nothing ever went anywhere. 

People of course noticed how close you and Jack were. The way you always seemed to walk in and out of work together. The times you’d come in wearing Jack’s sweatshirt. The reactions you’d both have at times when the other got flirted with, either at work or when everyone went out to a bar or somewhere. 

Both of you were constantly getting asked if you were together, some people just assumed it. You both always laughed and said no, you weren’t, you didn’t know why so many people thought that, you’re just best friends. Bets were placed on when you guys would finally either admit you were together already or realize what literally everyone else could tell, that you were both in love with each other, and finally get together as a couple.

A few people bet on it taking one of you to get worryingly sick or injured or otherwise put in danger for the other to admit their feelings. They were proven wrong one night. 

Your mistake was something you’d done hundreds of times before. Walking out into the ambulance bay by yourself in the middle of the night. It’s how you find yourself being held hostage and walked back into the ED with a knife pressed against your throat. 

Sound seems to go. You’re only vaguely aware of the guy holding you making demands for drugs. Your eyes drag across the floor looking for a single person. One you can’t find. He must be in with a patient. You know he’s the only person who would give you any comfort in this situation but a part of you is almost glad you don’t see him. 

You don’t want him to see this. Especially if this guy ends up using the knife on you. You really don’t want Jack to see that. 

The scream a patient lets out and the general collective gasps he hears are Jack’s initial clues something is wrong. The chilly silence that follows is another clue and he decides to go look, makes his way to the door of the exam room he’s in. He doesn’t know what he expects to see when he steps out but it sure isn’t you with a knife pressed to your throat. And yet that’s what he sees.

Jack’s entire world stops, the vial of medication he was holding falling out of his hand. His eyes find yours immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mouth to him. He shakes his head. Why the fuck are you sorry? is all he can think. 

Jack walks forward holding up his hands. “What do you want?” he asks the guy. 

“Finally somebody with some fucking sense. Demerol. 150. To start. Then I want all the fucking vials of it and morphine you have with a bunch of needles.” The guy laughs, thinks he’s about to make out. 

“And then you’ll let her go?” Jack asks.

“I’ll walk her out with me and then I’ll let her go, yeah.”

“Fine,” Jack nods at him. “I’ll pull your dose now.” The way the guy laughs as Jack walks over to pull some demerol out makes him want to be sick. If something happens to you, anything at all, if you die, Jack swears he’ll die with you. He’d never forgive himself. He’s eerily calm and steady for how fast his heart is racing but he knows he needs to be calm and focused to get you out of this alive and physically uninjured. He knows the mental injuries are already there. 

Jack can’t quite pin down how sophisticated this guy is. The laughter makes Jack think he’s not very. That he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Jack tries it, sees if the guy will tell him to show him the vial first and pull it in front of him and make Jack give himself some to prove it’s nothing dangerous first. He takes a vial of etomidate out and pulls a dose, starts walking over to the guy. 

There’s no questioning. No telling Jack to go back and bring it all over and pull it in front of him, no asking Jack if Jack think he’s stupid. Only that fucking laugh that neither you nor Jack will ever forget.

“Need a vein,” Jack tells the guy as he gets close. 

“Back of the hand. The one holding the knife. She can watch,” the guy grunts at Jack and laughs as he tightens his grip on the knife and presses it into your neck hard enough to give you little deeper than a paper cut, but deep enough to draw some blood. 

The sight of your blood makes him want to be sick because, even though it’s only a few drops, you still have a fucking knife against your throat that’s making you bleed. Jack nods at you but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t want to risk pissing the guy off, not with how tight that knife is against your skin. Jack feels the back of the guys hand for a vein to make sure they’re not all blown. He finds one and so Jack pushes the med and then steps back 

“I’m getting the rest now, okay?” Jack starts walking backwards slowly. It’s the longest onset time of Jack’s entire life but he can see when it starts to hit the guy and he’s already running back towards you as the etomidate renders the guy unconscious. “Etomidate,” Jack shouts at nobody in particular so at least somebody knows what he gave the guy and can deal with him accordingly.

The second the knife drops from your throat you’re stepping forward and Jack is right there to grab you and pull you away from the guy. Jack crushes you to him. “Jack,” you whimper as your hands fist at his scrub top at his chest, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tighter than he ever has before. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, “fuck, you’re okay.” You’re shaking in Jack’s arms just as much as he’s shaking having you safe and in his as the adrenaline crashes for you both. “Let me see your neck.” 

He tries to pull away but you cling to him and follow him. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay, please.” 

Jack wants to look at your neck for himself but he knows you’re right that it’s okay for now and you clearly need him like this and frankly he needs you like this too. Safe in his arms. 

It makes you feel safe. If you’re in Jack’s arms nothing is going to happen to you. You trust him. You know he’s safe, will keep you safe. “Please stay,” you whisper, voice shaking. “I need you.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Jack’s voice is shaky like yours. “I can’t lose you.”

Everyone who heard that line and the way Jack said it had thought it meant you in fact weren’t together but Jack was going to admit his feelings to you and you’d admit yours back and you’d finally be together and holding hands walking in and calling each other pet names. And Jack almost did admit his feelings to you. But then you guys had gotten home and went about your routine and you were so shaken and clingy that he wasn’t able to bring himself to tell you and risk losing you, especially when you needed him so much in the aftermath. So it didn’t happen. 

The calling each other a pet name, however, did. But not in the way anyone expected. To you and Jack the word just became a nickname. One that intensified the confusion about what you and Jack were. 

You’re standing at the hub charting when you overhear Jack finishing discharge instructions with a mom and her five or six year old daughter as he walks them towards the door. You’re finally an R4 about two weeks away from starting the attending position you were offered and accepted. Jack is of course still an attending. Your schedules are almost always identical. It was easy to pull off when most people didn’t want to work nights and the two of you volunteered to. You both knew it would be staying that way once you became an attending.

“Thank you so much, babe!” You watch the mom tell Jack as she hugs him. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, continuing to watch as Jack remains completely still. “And like we talked about if you ever need anything or get bored, here’s my number,” she giggles as she presses a post-it note to his chest. You’d be more jealous if you thought for a single second Jack might actually be interested, but he is so clearly not you almost feel embarrassed for the woman. The whole thing is so funny you have to quickly log out and walk away to keep from laughing. 

The second the mom is out the door Jack tosses the post-it note with a shake of his head. Jack has always gotten hit on at work. He’s always gotten flirted with everywhere really. He very, very rarely flirts back. But though he may not have put it together, everyone else, yourself included, has noticed that now that he’s truly gone salt and pepper he gets flirted with far more. 

Later that night around 1:30 a.m. the two of you are at the hub charting together. “Can you take the eight year old with a possible broken arm from a bunk bed fall with the new med student, Cooper? I said I would but I don’t think I can handle another mom right now and I would really love to try and get like four bites of literally anything.”

“I suppose for you I can,” you tease him, bumping your hip against his. “I brought us leftovers from last night too. They’re in the fridge.”

“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” You scoff in mock offense as Jack logs off his computer. He looks over at you and waits until you look up at him which doesn’t take long. “Thank you.” He gives you a flash of a smile and then starts to walk toward the breakroom. 

The opportunity is too good to pass up. After he gets a step or two away you call out to him. “Sure thing, babe!” 

Jack stops walking and tilts his head letting out a single huffed laugh as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he resumes walking. He can’t keep the small smile off his face though. 

A while later Jack finds you again at the hub, just the two of you. You guys chat for a bit until you get called away. “Oh,” you turn back to Jack, “can you remind me to check if my mascara is dried out when we get home. I’m going to need some for Shen’s wedding.”

Jack smirks at you and you already know what he’s about to say. “Sure thing, babe!” 

The nickname stuck and it pretty much became your and Jack’s exclusive way of referring to each other. You both ached for it to be a real pet name. People assumed that calling each other ‘babe’ constantly would lead to a conversation and so you’d get together within a month or so. Especially because then you’d be an attending. You wouldn’t technically be Jack’s student anymore, you’d be equals. But you still didn’t get together.

And once you became an attending and had been one for six months or so and nothing happened, people stopped placing bets. Because surely if it was going to happen it would have already. 

A year after you became an attending you started to notice it more than you had before. It felt like most of your patients were children with their parents or newlyweds or recently engaged or celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary or pregnant. Marriage and kids were frequently on your mind. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself out there and try to find someone. 

You talk about it casually with a couple of people at work, that you think you’d like marriage and kids one day, and the interest in you and Jack is renewed and bets start getting placed again. 

And one day, six years after you met, it finally happens.

You and Jack walk into his place after your shift. You unsurprisingly had to stay late so it’s 9 a.m. or so, your guys’ evening. It wasn’t a bad shift in the scope of things, but it wasn’t the easiest shift you’ve ever had either. 

Jack keeps semi blackout curtains in his living room and pulls them closed while you grab a drink for yourself and a beer for Jack from his fridge without even asking if he wants one. You don’t turn any lights on. The curtains dim the room, but you can still easily see each other.

He sits on the opposite end of the couch from you, leaning into the corner of it and putting the thigh of one leg on it as he tilts his body towards you so that you guys can see each other. Manspreading like always. If only he knew how insane it drove you. You hand him his beer and then settle back into the same position, and if only you knew how insane your legs being relatively spread open drove him. 

“I guess at least nobody died,” you mutter before taking a drink. 

Jack nods slowly as he finishes swallowing. “We’ll take the wins where we can.” He tilts his head at you. “Didn’t see much of you tonight.” 

“It was busy. I think we kept hitting our free moments at different times. It’s not like I was ignoring you.” You give him a knowing look, confused about why he’s even commenting on it. It’s something that just happens sometimes. 

He’s commenting because he missed you, quite a lot today for some reason, and especially because he saw you on your phone a decent amount at the beginning of your shift, more than you usually are, and you seemed happy. Of course he wants you to be happy, but he wants to know why. Why you weren’t using that time to come see him and let him make you happy. He’s hoping the explanation isn’t another man. 

“You seemed to be in an awfully good mood at the beginning of your shift.” He tries to keep it light, like it’s just something he noticed and not him trying to probe for information.

“Eh. My college ex boyfriend texted me.” You roll your eyes. “It was random more than anything.”

He swallows hard. Fuck. It was another man. “Oh,” Jack draws the word out, “is that who was making you smile down at your phone until about midnight tonight?” He smirks at you like he isn’t internally seething with jealousy.

You roll your eyes again but this time at Jack. “He sent me the most ridiculous opening line and it was funny, so it made me smile, yes.” 

Jack’s jaw sets and he takes a drink of his beer so that he doesn’t grind his teeth loud enough for you to hear. “You sharing or?”

There’s the faintest hint of snippiness in his tone that makes you narrow your eyes at him slightly. Jack knows all about your college ex, how he decided he didn’t want to move with you for medical school and then again for residency potentially. It broke your heart at the time but things still ended amicably all things considered. You figure the snippiness is related to Jack disliking him.

“He asked if I went into cardiology because, and I quote ‘you are the very beating and pulse of my heart.’” You start laughing as you finish saying it. Jack hardly even laughs, he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, shifts to sit straighter on the couch so he’s looking at the black TV in front of him and not over at you. “Oh come on,” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “It was funny.”

Jack takes another swig of his beer and pulls his lips down, shrugs slightly. “Worked on you enough that you memorized it.” 

You choke on the sip of your drink you just took, coughing a little. Jack glances over at you for a second just to make sure you’re okay. 

“Worked on me? It didn’t fucking work on me. He sent it to break the ice, babe.” You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. 

“Well you liked it enough to remember it and keep talking to him.” He already knows you’re going to go see this guy and probably get into a relationship and that’ll pretty much be the end of your best friends relationship as you know it now. 

You scoff at him. “I found it funny enough to remember. There’s a difference.” 

“Okay,” he sings, clearly not believing you and you just shake your head at him. You both take sips of your drinks. Even with Jack’s kind of strange behavior the silence is still comfortable. “So why’d he text you after all this time? It’s been like what? Ten years?”

You shift on the couch and pull your legs up to your chest. “He moved to Pittsburgh. Asked if I’d be interested in seeing him.”

Jack’s head snaps over to you. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to see him?” 

His gaze is so intense it feels like it’s pinning you in place. “Yeah.” You shrug. You don’t get why this is such a big deal all of the sudden. You need this. You need to move on from Jack. You need to try and have the rest of the life you want, even if it’s not quite how you pictured it. You and Jack would still be best friends and some things might change, but it’s not like everything would change or suddenly you’d just stop hanging out because you got married and had kids.

Jack scoffs at you now. “Why?” There’s a bite behind his tone. He’s not sure if you have a real reason or if it’s just to reconnect. You squirm under his gaze for a second before you have to look away as you give him another shrug. That’s the confirmation he needs. “Bull-fucking-shit, you absolutely have a reason.” You let out a breath and occupy your mouth with another sip of your drink. “Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a reason.” 

You sigh and look back at him. You swear he almost seems mad with how serious he looks, lips pressed in a line, still staring at you with that same intensity, eyes slightly narrowed. You know you’re going to have to tell him because you can’t lie to him. As in you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and also he would know the second it came out of your mouth. 

“It’s stupid,” you admit, “it’s stupid and I know it and a big part of me doesn’t care. But you’ll think it’s stupid too. Think I’m stupid for even considering it.” 

“Hey.” Jack shifts on the couch so he’s turned towards you again, features softened. “You’re not stupid. I know you far too well to know that if there is one thing in this world that you are definitively not, it’s stupid. If it’s a stupid idea, yeah I will tell you that. ” 

You look down at your hands. You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually. If you end up doing it then it’s going to come out. “When we broke up we made this stupid pact together that we both thought was just a funny joke at the time. We said if we reached the age we are now and weren’t married or in a serious relationship we’d get married and have kids together.” You pause for a second and swallow. “Neither of us are married or in a serious relationship. So you know…”

Jack’s jaw falls open a little as his head lolls forward. Adrenaline floods his body so fast he grows cold in seconds, stomach churning. He can’t lose you. Not like this. If you dated the guy and fell back in love with him that would be one thing. But this? No. And actually, no in general. He can’t lose you. He can’t watch you marry someone else and have someone else’s kids. He knows you really want marriage and kids and he wants that for you, just selfishly only with him. It gets harder to breathe as some actual panic starts to seep into him. 

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re actually fucking considering this?” 

Tears sting at the back of your eyes. You know he’s not laughing at you and you know he’s not truly judging you but his reaction still hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to. All you can do is nod at him. 

Jack laughs again, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Fucking why?”

“Because Jack!” He shrinks back slightly, eyebrows raising at your response and the emotion he thinks he hears in your voice. “Because I want to share my life with someone romantically! Because I want to get married and have a house and have kids! I want that life. And I’m not getting any fucking younger.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jack scoffs. He’s nearly at a loss for words. “How can you say that? You haven’t even been looking for someone! You don’t date and I know you’ve been asked out plenty of times. And don’t give the excuse of being too busy because we both know that’s not true anymore.” He shakes his head at you and looks pissed. “Do you even fucking love him?” 

You shrug. You have absolutely no justification for why you don’t date other than because you’re in love with Jack. So you don’t even really try to justify anything. “I haven’t been, no, but I’ve still always wanted that stuff and this kind of fell in my lap and so maybe it’s a sign. And as for loving him… yeah. No. Kind of? I don’t know anymore. Would he be my first pick? No. But he’s nice, he treated me well and he’ll be a good dad I think. And maybe now that we’re both grown up there will be more of a spark there.” You knew Jack would think it was a stupid and bad idea but you didn’t know he’d react quite this strongly. In part you’re not sure why he cares so much. He’s your best friend. He should want to see you happy and living the life you want. And this is a way for you to at least be living the life you want and to be happy enough.

“So what, you’re going to fucking settle? Settle for the guy who broke your heart? The guy who couldn’t be fucking asked to move maybe twice for you so that you could do what you dreamed of? The guy who allegedly loved you but not quite enough to make any sacrifices for you?” Jack tilts his head at you. “Babe you deserve so much better. So much fucking better. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t even consider it further. Please” 

“I think maybe I would be enough for him now. He reached out. Remembered. That has to count for something, right? And I want it Jack.” You shrug at him. You’re a little upset. Not with Jack, just with everything else. With what you don’t have. With the way you struggle about whether you really want marriage and kids without Jack now that you’re really thinking about it. “I want that life and I feel like I’m running out of time and yeah, I haven’t been looking so that’s on me, but still. You can want something and still be okay with not having it. But if the opportunity arose, if it just kind of fell in your lap… you know?”

“I know,” Jack whispers before speaking at a normal level. “I just want you to be with someone who you are enough for. Because you are enough. You are so much fucking more than enough.” Jack nods at you, hoping it will help drive his words home. “He doesn’t deserve you. Any fucking part of you. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time. I know you won’t be happy with him. Not truly. You would be settling and you know it. But you don’t have to settle. You don’t. You still have time. You can still have the life you want, just with someone who really makes you happy. Who you really want to live that life with. You still have time to find that person. Your person. So don’t do this to yourself. Please.”

Your heart aches. You know and love Jack so deeply, he’s the one you trust with every secret and part of you. You wish that you could tell him you already found your person. You already found the man who makes you really, truly happy. You already found the man you want to live your life with. That you’re staring at him.

“Jack, we have to be realistic. When am I going to go find that person? With what time? And where? It’ll take me forever to find someone.” You let out a short breath. “And then after I do find them it’s at minimum a year of dating, an engagement, then a wedding, then wanting time as just a couple before kids. I don’t have that kind of time. I have a couple of years at best.” 

“You’re giving yourself an artificial timeline.” He shakes his head. He’s not getting through to you. “You could still go find them. Or at least do this all, marriage and kids, with someone better.” 

“Who, Jack?” You laugh exasperatedly. “Who the fuck is that? I’d still have to find them. At least I know him. That’s better than jumping into this with a stranger. Who the fuck else do I know that I would do this with?” 

There’s a silence as you and Jack stare at each other. 

And then Jack raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you quickly, just a one second or two flash. 

It hits you. 

“Jack?” you whisper. You need him to say it. Because there’s no fucking way.

He swallows hard. “Please just don’t do it with him.” 

“Jack.” 

“Me.” He rushes the word out, taking a few heavy breaths. “You could do it with me.” 

You stop breathing for a second as you look at him, expression unreadable in a way that makes him incredibly self-conscious, blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. You’re stunned. Beyond stunned. While your body is still and you’re silent your mind is running a million miles an hour screaming seventy things at once. There’s no way he means this as a romantic thing. He just has to be volunteering himself because he thinks he’s at least better than your college ex. 

The breath you take in thirty seconds later is still shocked. You lick your lips quickly and open your mouth to say something, but then close it when you can’t think of anything. This happens a couple of times before Jack speaks again. He’s quite sure he knows what your reaction means. That you’re trying to find a way to turn him down nicely. 

“I know I’m not him and I’m sure I have much less to offer than him.” You stare at Jack as he speaks, bring a hand up to cover your mouth. “And I know that I come with baggage and that I’m older and that I’m missing a piece of me, literally, but I just think, no I know I could make you happier than he could.” 

You’re silent for a minute. You process what he says but your brain doesn’t formulate a reply to it because you need to know exactly what Jack means. You move your hand from your mouth and rest it to the side of you. 

Your voice is surprisingly even, just like your body is still. You haven’t given into the trembling you can feel coming yet. “Is that… Would you want that? Or would it just be a pact kind of thing to you?” You’re still not convinced he’s thinking about this the same way you are. You’re convinced he’s just offering to take the place of your ex in the pact, not that he’s in love with you like you are with him.

The way you gloss over what he said hurts. He tries to hold onto some modicum of hope that all of this will get figured out and he won’t lose you but it’s getting hard. 

Jack lets out the saddest laugh you’ve ever heard by anyone ever. “Oh no, I want that. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Wanted you. I’ve been in love with you since that first day. The first day I met you. And I’m sorry if knowing it would be really real for me ruins it and makes me not an option. But even if it’s not me you should still find someone better than him.” He shrugs and looks away from you. 

“Are you being for fucking real?” He nods, still looking down. “No, Jack.” You move down the couch so that you’re sitting right next to each other, you with your legs crossed facing Jack who’s still turned into the couch so that he could see you. “Look at me.” He forces himself to look up at you. “Are you serious right now? Do you mean it? You want me? You’re in love with me? Like more than platonically?” 

Jack’s heart breaks because it’s not the declaration of love he’d hoped you give him in return. 

“Yes.” He nods at you, gives you the eye contact you sought, as intense as always even with his glassy and somewhat defeated looking eyes. “I want you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you like I want to marry you, I want you to be my wife and me to be your husband, I want to give you my last name, I want to confuse the fuck out of everyone on night shift with two Dr. Abbots, I want you to be the mother of my kids, I want to get you pregnant, more than once maybe, I want to grow old holding your hand and kissing your lips and making you laugh. I want you. I’m in love with you. I love you. I have always loved you.”

You swallow hard, the trembling finally hitting your entire body. “Why did you never say anything or make a move?” 

Your lack of real response to everything he just admitted confirms it for Jack. You don’t feel the same way. You don’t love him like he does you. There’s not going to be any saving this. 

“Because I knew you’d never reciprocate and if I said anything or made a move it would make things awkward and if it didn’t totally end our friendship it would have at least changed it significantly. And having you in my life like this, as my best friend, like you have been for the past six years was so much better than not having you in my life at all and being tortured seeing you at work.” Jack sniffles a little. “But then you started talking about marriage and kids with this guy and I know you want that life and that if you were even considering this pact you were either going to do it or probably start seriously dating and looking for someone. And so I sat here and realized I’d lose you either way. If I admitted my unrequited love I’d lose you. If you do it with him or go find someone to have that life with we obviously wouldn’t be able to continue how we are and so you’d slowly slip away and I’d lose you. So I figured I might as well throw it out there so that if nothing else you know that you are enough for someone. So much more than enough. And you shouldn’t settle for anyone who thinks differently.” 

You look at Jack for a few seconds and then you laugh. Hard. Because you cannot think of how else to react in the moment and Jack fucking Abbot is in love with you and you’re in love with him and you both have been forever and you’re both fucking idiots. 

The sound is a knife through Jack’s heart. 

You quiet your laughter and smile at Jack. He can’t quite believe it because it would be so out of character for you but Jack assumes you’re about to make fun of him. What else could you do?

“Knew I’d never reciprocate? Unrequited love?” You let out a few giggles this time. “Jack Abbot I have loved you every day for the past six years. I fell in love with you the day we met too. I am in love with you. Romantically. I love you.” You laugh again, a few tears slipping down your face, not from the laughter but the other emotions the laughter is just audibly louder than. “You’re sitting here talking about me going and finding my person and I’m trying not to fucking lose it because I’m sitting here fucking staring at my person so sure you would never reciprocate. You’re the one who makes me happy. The fucking happiest. The happiest I’ve ever been.” You take a breath and look at Jack, laughter leaving you and watery smile pulling up on your face, eyes the brightest Jack has ever seen them even in the relatively low light. “You are the one I want that life with. Marriage and kids. I said he wasn’t my first choice. You know who fucking is? You, Jack. You. It’s always been you. I’ve always loved you, too.” 

“Me?” There’s no fucking way.

“Yeah, Jack. You!” You’re beaming at him.

“You’re being for fucking real now?” He loosely mimics what you asked him earlier. A tentative smile pulls onto his face. He’s still struggling to believe that you love him. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yes. Like, like, I don’t even fucking know,” you pause trying to search for a word but it’s hard with how fucking giddy you are, “I’m soul-consumingly in love with you. Head over heels. All the clichés. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you too.” 

His smile widens and he rests a hand on your thigh. He has to be sure you understand the reality of him though. Or what he thinks the reality of him is. “But I’m-”

“Oh, don’t even start with the I’m older and missing a piece of myself and have baggage. I’ve got some baggage myself. And I know you fucking know that.” You give him a pointed look though your smile remains. “I don’t care how old you are. And it’s hot quite frankly. I mean you are in general but you being older. The salt and pepper drives me fucking insane. Hardest day of my life was when you got enough gray for me to really notice. I had to go back to my place alone after shift and damn near burned out a vibrator over it, I mean jesus fucking christ, I set a personal record, Jack. Your age is hot. You’re hot. And handsome. Unfairly so.” You grow a little more serious to address the last point Jack had brought up earlier, rest one of your hands over his on your thigh and your other hand on his knee. “And yes. You’re missing a piece of yourself. But that doesn’t matter to me Jack. And I know what you think but it’s not unattractive, it doesn’t make you less desirable. And it certainly doesn’t somehow make you less of a man, Jack.”

His head is spinning. At all of. The whole situation. Him professing his love. You professing yours. The fact that you’re in love with each other. That you both want to get married and have kids. His brain glitched out for a second at almost burned out a vibrator and set a personal record all because you were thinking of him. And the way you read him like a book when all he said was he was he’s missing a piece of himself and reassured him perfectly, textbook example of a reason why he loves you. 

Jack’s eyes search yours as he beams with you now. He laughs, and he understands why you laughed. A few tears slide down his face, just as happy and emotional as you. “We’re fucking idiots.”

You laugh with him and nod. “Total fucking idiots.”

“We could have had all those years together. Why did you never say anything?” Jack asks, his free hand covering your hand on his knee. You’re both still so in shock and processing that kissing each other or continuing this conversation with you straddling him or somehow being closer than you are now hasn’t come to the forefront of either of your minds. 

“Same reason you didn’t. Having you somehow was better than not at all. And I mean, Jack,” you let out a flustered laugh, “you have to know like everyone wants you. You could have anybody you wanted and so I never thought you’d want me.”

“Hey. Listen to me.” Jack grows more serious though a soft smile remains. He shifts so that he can hold your face in his hands. He’s held your face like this before, many times, but not like this. This is different. You know you love each other. And while Jack is still your best friend and will always be your best friend, he’s your partner now. Your lover. Your future husband. Your future children’s father. And the same is true for Jack. You are and will always be his best friend, but you’re his partner now. His lover. His future wife. His future children’s mother. And so Jack’s holding your face like that. Like you’re his, in every sense of the word. “There is not a single human being on this entire fucking planet who I want more than you. Not a single fucking one. And there isn’t one that’s better for me. You’re the only woman I see anymore. You’ve been the only woman I see for a long time. You are the only one I want and the only one for me, Babe.”

You grin at the nickname and how it really is a pet name now, how it suddenly holds even more meaning. And you nod at Jack’s words, relish in how they warm your heart and make you feel so needed and wanted and loved. You know he means them. With his entire being. You bring your hands up and wrap them around Jack’s wrists as he holds your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the inside of his wrists. 

“You are the only one I want and the only for me, Babe,” you repeat to him. You bite your lip and giggle again and it goes straight to Jack’s cock. Now that you can say it you can’t help yourself. “And I can’t wait to marry you one day.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, confidence back in full force, seductive without even really trying. “You want it to be soon?” Jack tilts his head and leans his head in a little closer. You both know you’re fucking finally about to kiss. 

“Could be tomorrow as far as I’m concerned.” You wink at him. It’s kind of a joke but also not really. You’d marry him tomorrow. “But I do want to wait on kids. I know we’ve been dating in a sense for effectively six years, but I want time for us to really be a couple together. Just the two of us. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You look down at Jack’s lips and tilt your head opposite his, lean in even closer expecting him to close the gap. 

But instead he pulls away, making your face furrow. “Seriously?” Jack asks. 

“To which part?” Your confusion at his question and at his pulling back is clear in your tone.

Jack lets go of your face and you let go of his wrists. He stands, confusing you further until he pulls at the fabric of his scrub pants on one leg and sinks onto one knee. “Jack.” Your breathing picks up and tears hit your eyes. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will buy you whatever you want-”

“I want whatever you pick out, Jack,” you interrupt him. 

He huffs a laugh. He loves you so much. You would interrupt his proposal for that. “Okay. I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will pick you out one and we’ll get wedding bands on our way. I want to do life by your side forever. I love you.” Jack takes in a breath. “Will you marry me? Tomorrow?”

You nod as you start laughing. “Yeah. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Tomorrow.” 

You and Jack are beaming at each other again as he starts to laugh with you, standing back up and holding his hands out for you. You take them and uncross your legs, let Jack help pull you up. He pulls you close, so that you’re flush against him. And after six years, you both finally get what you want as you tilt your heads and lean in and kiss each other. 

The first kiss is soft, a lingering expression of love that has the two of you breathless as you focus on feeling each other’s lips and the electricity it seems to send through you. The second kiss is a little more, turns sucking on each other’s bottom lips are taken. The third kiss is where things really escalate and before you know it you and Jack are standing in front of his couch properly making out, tongues in each other’s mouths, Jack’s arms sliding around you to keep you close, one forearm running parallel up your spine and holding the nape of your neck, your hands finding Jack’s hair and running through it, scratching at his scalp and occasionally tugging. 

“We’re going to have to go to a different state though,” you laugh against his lips when you finally break apart for air. 

“Wait, what?” His question is a little breathless from kissing and he pulls away a bit so that you can look at each other properly. 

You nod. “Pennsylvania has a three day waiting period after you apply for a marriage license. It almost fucked up Shen’s wedding.” 

“Fuck,” Jack mutters. He looks off to the side in thought for a moment. You take the moment to admire him, this beautiful beautiful man who’s now yours. Who loves you. You keep running your hands through his hair. It’s not the first time you’ve done it but it’s the first time as his lover, his fiancée. “This is the start of our string of offs, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “sure is, Babe.”

Jack looks back at you, right in the eyes as usual. “Tomorrow we fly to Vegas. Elope.” 

You raise your eyebrows and pause, waiting to see if he says more or changes his mind or anything. When he doesn’t you bite your lip and nod. He’s probably not even aware of how loved it makes you feel to know he’s ready to marry you tomorrow. Just like that. But then you being ready to marry him tomorrow makes him feel the same. “Sounds like a plan, Dr. Abbot.” Jack’s pupils dilate even more, his hands sliding down your sides and back to grab your ass. “Get your laptop or my iPad, we can book the plane tickets now.”

Jack doesn’t move. “You know you’re going to be Dr. Abbot in less than 48 hours.” The realization has you taking a shallow breath in and subconsciously pressing yourself against Jack even harder. “And we can book later, in a couple of hours.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly. “Oh? Why the delay?”

He uses his hands that are still gripping your ass to grind your hips and pelvis against him as he does the same with his against you. You let out a soft moan when you feel just how hard he is, swear you can feel him throb against as you grow even wetter for him. “Because I’ve been waiting six years to fuck you and now I can. And I need to. You have no idea how badly I need you. So if it’s okay with you I’m going to take my fiancée to bed now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope it was okay! I love hearing your guys' thoughts and comments, and I appreciate your likes, reblogs and replies so so much!

Although I'm struggling with how I'm feeling about the above, if there was any level of interest I could probably be persuaded to do a smutty part two because I do love some first time together smut and already have some ideas. So let me know if that's something you might like to see!

Thank you again for reading and all your support! ♥️

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[darksparklesficrecs]

Your Side of the Bed

Summary: Robby finds himself in an arrangement of sharing the reader’s bed. Sleeping side by side in the most literal of senses. It was simply a way they could be there for one another, offer comfort on hard days. And yet he found himself wanting more.

Paring: Michael “Robinavitch” x reader

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: NO SMUT I don’t think it’s even joked about here lol so there’s no smut in here! Brief mention of suicide prevention measures in a joke. Reader gets a small cut and is freaked out by medical procedures.

A/N: Really this was born out of me just wanting to write some Robby fluff. I think I’m slowing down on my writing frenzy y’all so please don’t expect my previous schedule of nearly every other day story releases I’m sorry! All in all as always I just wrote what I thought I would want to read so I hope y’all enjoy it and as always let me know what you think!

You hadn’t expected the night to end the way it did when you left your job that evening.

And honestly there was no reason you should’ve, afterall you hardly knew the man.

Sure you’ve met Robby a few times before. Interacted with him enough to know what he did for a living but beyond basic elevator small talk you’ve never really spoken to the man.

So when you spotted him standing outside of his apartment, keys in hand, just staring down at them dejectedly you didn’t really have a plan when you opened your mouth. You just knew you recognized that look on his face, the way his hands shook, the way he stayed rooted in place even as the elevator dinged as you got out, and you wanted to help.

“Hey Robby” His head snapped up at the sound of his name, the way his eyes went wide at your voice telling you he truly hadn’t noticed your approach “just getting back?”

“Yeah” he sighed out the word, telling you more than you thought he really meant to, his gaze going back to his keys, reluctance on his face as his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Have you eaten yet?” The words basically tumbled out of you, the offer though made spontaneously was no less sincere “I’m just getting back too and was going to make something quick if you want to come in” and you could see the hesitance quickly building, the denial on every part of him but his lips “I was thinking pasta and I struggle to make anything less than four servings”

He seemed to pause at the joke, to take a second to reconsider. “It’s late I don’t want to impose”

You shook off the worry easily, moving past the man to your own door faking confidence he would follow “I promise you aren’t, besides I’ve kinda had a shit day so being alone doesn’t sound like a lot of fun right now”

It wasn’t a complete lie to be fair. Your day hadn’t been the best but more than anything you knew this man shouldn’t be alone right now and he wasn’t going to take help unless he could offer some in return.

“I should shower first” The implied acceptance had you smiling as he turned back to his door, you could practically see him hype himself up to go in.

“You can use mine” You offered, forcing a level of nonchalance you didn’t feel into your tone “no pressure obviously the dinner invitation stands either way  but since you’re going to be over anyways” you let the end of your sentence dangle purposefully as you shrugged “plus I don’t mean to brag but the landlord just fixed my plumbing so I have the best water pressure in the building”

Your attempt at a joke had him snorting as he cast one final look at his door before wordlessly turning away from it and heading in your direction, following you back to your place “If that’s true the landlord and I will be having words”

Trying to tamp down the odd mix of anxiety and excitement at having Robby listen to you, you kept your gaze ahead, focusing a bit too hard on getting your key into the lock as he stood behind you patiently “I had to threaten to sue and it still took months so good luck with that one, you’ll need it”

Opening your door you toed off your shoes and put them to the side in your entryway prompting him to do the same while you started turning on lights “Feel free to set your bag anywhere, kitchen tables covered in my work stuff so that may be your best bet” you instructed him as you set your own work bag down at one of the chairs at the table “in the meantime make yourself at home I’ll grab you a towel and some clothes you can use”

You rushed through the process of grabbing an extra pair of clothes you thought would fit him and a towel, knowing the longer you left him alone in your living room the more likely he was to back out entirely. Something that was quickly proved correct as you joined him with the stack back out in the living room, hesitation and awkwardness practically carved into his bones as he stood rigidly in the center of the room.

“These should fit but obviously let me know if you need anything else” you ignored the trepidation on his face as you handed him the stack, Robby blindly grabbing it as he already started to backtrack.

“You really don’t have to-“

“Please I want to” you interrupted him, walking back towards the kitchen forcing him to hold onto the stack as you got out a pot “besides I need someone to get wine drunk with. Can’t do it on my own, I think that’s when they call it alcoholism”

Still he stared at you silently, you could practically see him trying to think of a way to politely extract himself.

“Unless you don’t drink of course in which case I’ve got soda or water or-“

“No no” he chuckled though it sounded slightly strained, patting to top of the stack you had given softly “wine’s good”

“Good I’ll open the bottle then” you smiled warmly at him, gesturing with a nod back towards the hallway behind him “bathroom’s down on the left I’ll be out here if you need anything”

Still he just stared at you for a brief moment, silence stretching with words unsaid, before he finally accepted it and nodded, giving you one last thanks before he made his way to go shower, leaving you to start cooking and distract yourself from the death spiral of regret and anxiety your brain was trying to force you down.

You heard the shower start up just as you put the pot on the stove to boil, you’d honestly planned on doing as little as possible when it came to getting food in you tonight after work but with Robby here you figured you could at least put in a minimal amount of effort. All things considered though boxed pasta and jarred sauce was as far as you were willing to go tonight.

Deciding last minute to add at least a salad to the side you were chopping up vegetables by the time that Robby joined you once again, looking tired but clean and a little lighter at least.

“You weren’t kidding about the water pressure” he noted as he sat on the other side of the bar that separated living room from kitchen, watching you continue to chop.

“I know right” you grinned at him “I don’t know what they did but I’m considering letting all my other unanswered maintenance requests go as a thank you”

He chuckled at that, looking back out at your apartment appraisingly “do you need me to do anything cause I-“

“Sit down doc” you chided him harmlessly “have a glass of wine you look like you’ve had a long shift”

He took the glass you slid his way with a nod, a small huff escaping him as he shook his head “what about you what’s got you coming home this late?”

A part of you wondered if you should commend his effort to try and fix your shifty night in lieu of his own or condemn his clear avoidance of the conversation turning to him. For now you chose to do neither and instead just answer “parent teacher conferences”

He hummed at that, watching you carefully as you threw the salad together and checked on the noodles “they go that badly?”

“They didn’t but that’s kind of the problem” you shrugged as you stirred the boiling water.

He raised a brow at that, no question coming to his lips just a silent ask to continue.

“It’s always the parents of the kids I’m not worried about who show up” you shrugged, leaning your elbows on the counter in front of him as you spoke “The straight A students, or at least the students who are clearly putting in the effort and trying”

“Meaning the students who’s parent’s you want to speak to don’t come” he answered for you in understanding.

“Exactly” you nodded, grabbing out a colander to drain the pasta as you continued “Which I get it parents can be busy or can just not make the conference hours but given all the emails I’ve sent over the course of this semester that have gone unanswered…”

You trailed off with a shrug, dishing up two portions of pasta and salad without a thought and placing one in front of Robby before putting yours in front of the seat next to him.

He nodded in thanks, starting to eat as you did the same, a small silence passing over the two of you that felt infinitely more comfortable than the one shared earlier in the evening, before he broke it “do you know what you’re going to do about it yet?”

You nodded in answer, twirling your fork absentmindedly in your pasta as you thought “Yeah it’ll be another round of emails, maybe some printed notes sent home with kids offering to meet at other times, I’ll see if I can at least get some of them on a phone call or something”

He hummed in thought, studying you for a moment before his eyes cut back down to his plate “you’re a good teacher”

You snorted at that, furrowing your brow at the man beside you in response “what makes you say that”

“You care” he shrugged like it’s obvious “you’re going out of your way to try and set these kids up for success. That’s what a good teacher would do”

“Feels like the bare minimum” you chuckled slightly “it’s my job to make sure they leave my classroom set up for whatever comes ahead”

“The fact that you so clearly believe that proves my point” he smiled back at you “it’d be a lot easier to write it off, to say you tried and give up but you keep pushing, keep advocating for these kids. You’re a good teacher”

And truly you didn’t have anything to say to that, the words dying on your tongue as you looked up at him and saw the complete sincerity in his eyes. Instead you simply offered him a small smile that he mirrored back.

“What about you how was your day” the question was out of your mouth before you could think better of it, the action of asking him in return feeling too natural.

You could see him shut down at the question, could see his walls going up as his gaze cut back to his plate “Fine. It was fine”

And maybe you should’ve left it there but you were already in too deep to feel comfortable with letting it go “you’re a good doctor, you know that right?”

His gaze cut back up to you quickly with a furrowed brow, a shocked huff leaving him at your words “have I treated you before?”

“No” you assured him with a snort “but no matter what you claim I can see that you’re not fine” you watched him tense at your words, would’ve found it almost funny in any other circumstance “I just mean a good doctor wouldn’t have a day get to him like that. You clearly care about your patients. Like actually care not just pretend to care until you can shuffle them along to the next person, that’s what a good doctor would do”

He chuckled slightly at your words, a lopsided small smile tugging at his lips as he looked you over “Feels like the bare minimum””

“You throw my words back at me and my response will be the same as yours” you chided him good naturedly, relishing the sound of his laugh you got in response as he shook his head.

“touché”

You smiled at the concession, taking note of both of your empty plates and looking back out at your living room before making a decision “do you want to watch a movie?”

He raised a brow at you but you watched the corners of his mouth tick up in response making you smile back “Obviously you can tell me if you’re tired and would rather go to bed but I like a movie at the end of the day to wind down” you shrugged in response.

“Only if you let me do the dishes”

You tried desperately not to let it show how much his easy acceptance shocked you “Robby you can come over and do my dishes anytime”

He laughed easily at that as he took both of your plates and made his way over to the sink, collecting the various dishes you’d used to cook from around the kitchen.

“I hope you know this means I will be subjecting you to my objectively terrible taste in movies”

“I think I’ll live” and you tried to ignore exactly how it made you feel to see this man smirking at you from your kitchen as he handwashed your dishes. Instead you choose to make your way over to the couch and start looking at your options.

And that was how you found yourself seated comfortably next the neighbor you’d had maybe five conversations with before, watching a movie much too late into the night. And thus how you found yourself waking up the next morning to the light streaming in through your living room windows and a comfortable chest beneath your cheek, with an admittedly painful twinge in your neck but feeling more well rested than you had in months.

-

You didn’t see Robby for a few days after that. The morning after had been awkward enough you counted it as a blessing.

There’d been a brief moment of serenity, admittedly, right before you fully woke up where all you could notice was how warm you felt, how comfortable, how secure. You remember burying yourself further into the comfort, giving a soft wiggle as you pressed your face further into what you had assumed was your pillow, until you heard a chuckle.

Rather you had felt the chuckle first, could feel it ruminate up Robby’s chest beneath your head before it broke to the surface. You felt what you quickly surmised to be an arm thrown over your shoulder and wrapped around you pull you in tighter, hardly enough to notice but enough to send butterflies through your stomach, before you finally opened your eyes.

Robby had already been staring down at you, his eyes wide in clear surprise but still the corners of his mouth ticked up, you wondered if he noticed. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you looked back up at him, neither of you moving for a moment, almost afraid to burst the bubble before you spoke “good morning”

His eyes got almost comically wider as his gaze cut to the nearest clock, a verification of the time seeming to fully solidify exactly what position the two of you were in for him as he quickly retracted his hands, open palms coming up by his head as if to placate you in the situation as a million apologies spilled from his lips.

You had just barely pulled yourself off of him before he was on his feet and grabbing his bag, all but running out of the door before you’d even finished stretching.

So naturally the first time you would see him in days would be when you were drunk off your ass after a night out with friends.

You all but stumbled out of the elevator, heels as always were a terrible choice for a night out but you couldn’t help but love the way your legs looked in them. So focused were you on keeping upright as you exited the elevator that you completely missed Robby standing in front of his door.

Looking up from your feet finally however you noticed the man frozen in place, keys in hand, lips slightly parted as his gaze made a slow climb from your feet up to your face. You couldn’t have stopped the grin from growing on your face if you had tried “Dr. Robinavitch we have got to stop meeting like this”

You speaking seemed to have snapped him out of whatever daze he was in, a startled huff escaping him as his posture relaxed “Well you look like you had a good night”

“I had a great night” you affirmed, taking a wobbly step forward that had him surging forward to brace you by the forearm, a slight chuckle escaping him as he helped you steady yourself.

“And how many drinks did we have tonight?”

“Not enough” you shook your head, griping his hand in yours happily as you took another step “ohhh we should do shots”

He laughed much more freely at that, shaking his head in response “we absolutely should not do shots we should do carbs. When was the last time you ate something?”

“Fuck I love carbs” you hummed letting him lead you back to his place without a thought, leaning up against the wall while he put his keys in the door “French fries, we should do French fries”

“I can manage French fries” he smiled at you, pushing open the door before extending a hand to you, helping you into his place with a hand on your hip.

You leaned into him happily as you more pawed at the buckle on your shoe than actually tried to get it off, this going on for just long enough Robby was getting ready to help you with it when it finally slipped off your ankle and you fled the shoes where they dropped, making your way to his kitchen and going right for his freezer.

“Make yourself at home” Robby teased as he carefully picked up your shoes and set them off to the side alongside his, making his way next to you in the kitchen to start preheating the oven as you dug around in his freezer for the fries.

“yes you got the good ones” you cheered as you unearthed the bag, handing it to him without a thought as you immediately dipping into his fridge “we should do cheese on top”

Smiling in amusement Robby took the fries without a word and got out a baking sheet, dumping a good amount onto it before fielding the block of cheese you tossed his way without even looking to see where he was.

“Now you don’t have salsa but you do have tomatoes and onions and I can make that work” finally you shut the door to the fridge and turned to face him with the required ingredients clutched in your hands.

“Salsa?” he asked with a raised brow, putting the fries in the preheated oven.

“We can’t have loaded fries without salsa” you answered as if it were obvious, eyes skating around his kitchen looking for something “now where do you keep your knives”

“Absolutely not” he chided immediately, making his way across the kitchen over to you and grabbing the produce from your arms.

“No I swear I can do it” you tried to assure him even as you let him push you out of the kitchen.

“Swear all you want but I’m chopping the vegetables”

“You chop the vegetables I’ll chop the fruit?” you asked hopefully, giving him your best charming smile that Robby couldn’t help but mirror.

“Nice try now will you please sit down at let me do it” he shook his head as he led you around the bar to the stool on the other side, hands on your waist to steady you as you stepped up into the chair and plopped yourself down.

“But I could help!” though you thankfully stayed put you still tried to get involved, swinging your legs energetically in the air as you watched Robby start to dice “I could be like that person who hands you the scalpel”

He furrowed his brow at you with a smirk, looking up at you from his slightly bent position as he worked “person who hands me the scalpel?”

“Yeah you know in the tv shows. You go scalpel and hold you hand up like this” you demonstrated the proper movement to him, choosing to ignore his grin as you talked “and someone puts it in your hand without saying anything that could be me”

“You do know I’m not a surgeon right?”

“All I’m hearing is you don’t have a scalpel person and it could be me”

He laughed at that, shaking his head as he gathered up all of your fry toppings “why don’t you sober up first then we’ll talk about your career options”

With a disgruntled huff you rolled your eyes, resting your head in your palm as you watched Robby finish off your loaded fries, dutifully instructing him on how much of each ingredient was required before happily digging into the plate he set in front of you, a myriad of content hums coming from you as you ate making Robby smile.

“You know I like this way better” you pointed out without looking at him, taking the time to pick the perfectly loaded fry.

“Like this better than what?”

“Better than you being weird” if you noticed the way the room went cold around Robby at your words you didn’t let it show, instead snacking happily as you stole a glance at him from the side of your eye.

“I’m weird?”

“You acted weird” you corrected him with a shrug “after we woke up on my couch you basically ran away from me”

A tense silence followed but you watched him unabashedly, waiting patiently for a response Robby wasn’t sure he wanted to give “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable” again the words came out of you so easily, a part of Robby wished he could be drunk for this conversation too “in fact I was really comfortable until you moved”

A huff left him at that, a small smile growing on his face despite his inner turmoil “Really?”

You nodded in response, finishing off the last of your food and wiping off your fingers on a napkin, pushing the plate off to the side and finally turning your full attention to him “I mean the couch wasn’t the best but you make a comfortable pillow”

He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at that, an anxious hand coming to rub at the back of his neck as he laughed it off “well I’m glad I could be of service”

“I don’t think I realized how bad I had been sleeping lately until that night” you revealed softly, the carbs and the late hour clearly kicking in as you seemed to sober slightly “stress of parent teacher night ya know? But I slept really well that night”

“I know what you mean” the words slipped out of him before he could think any better of it, the way they put a smile on your face making it hard for him to regret them though.

You studied him for a moment, a comfortable silence blanketing the two of you before you broke it softly “you wouldn’t admit it but you were having a bad day. Did I make it better?”

Now it was his turn to examine you, to watch the lazy way you kicked your feet out from the chair, the way your hair fell half hazardly around your face as you tilted your head slightly at him, the soft curve of your lips as you smiled absentmindedly at him “yeah. Yeah you did”

“Good” and now you were beaming at him, spreading a warmth through his chest he wasn’t prepared for “we should do it again sometime”

“Pass out on your couch?”

“I’d prefer the bed but beggers choosers” you shrugged through the idiom with a chuckle “but no I meant be there for one another. It’s nice to have someone there, even if it’s just to exist next to them in silence”

“yeah it is” the admission again left him without much thought, a smile growing on him as he watched you perk up slightly at the response “for now though you need to get to bed and work on sleeping this off, you good to head home now?”

You nodded happily at the question, pushing yourself off the stool with practiced ease as you did so “Just need to grab my purse and I’ll be good”

He frowned at that “what purse?”

“Black tiny bag” you described it to him, looking around his apartment lazily “got my keys in it”

“You didn’t come in with a purse”

“no” you shook off the statement without a thought “I remember packing it before I left, got all my stuff in it”

“No I mean you didn’t come into my place with a purse” he explained slowly, watching as the news seemed to hit you, your shoulders dropping in defeat “You didn’t have it with you when you got off the elevator”

With a heavy sigh you cursed under your breath, the palms of your hands coming up to dig harshly into your eyes as you swore softly, the last of your fun drunkenness abandoning you fully.

With a huff Robby couldn’t help but smile at the move, gesturing back to his room with a nod “Go take a shower I’ll call the bar you were at and see if they have it”

With a grumble you nodded “thank you”

“Don’t worry about it” he shook you off as he pulled out his phone “bottom left drawer of my dresser should have clothes you can wear, take whatever you want”

Nodding you slowly pulled yourself off towards his room, tossing the name of the bar you were at over your shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

Calling confirmed the bar did in fact have your purse and were willing to hold onto it until the morning so Robby made sure to inform Jack he would be running a little late the next day so he had time to go with you to pick it up. By the time he had finished his calls and cleaned up the kitchen you had joined him back out in the living room, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room with dripping hair in sweatpants that were just slightly too long and a shirt you had no business looking that good in.

“I’m sorry I could’ve helped clean”

He shook you off again with a swipe of his hand, practically forcing his eyes away from you as he surveyed the space around him “don’t worry about it there wasn’t much to do” he assured you, offering you the glass of water he had gotten you earlier “drink all of that first but go ahead and go to bed, we can go pick up your purse tomorrow”

With a nod you took the glass with a small thank you, “will you-uh-“ you stuttered on the words, fidgeting slightly on the spot making Robby frown “do you think we can share the bed?”

His furrowed brow raised as he realized what you were getting at, already shaking his head “Oh don’t worry about it I was already going to insist you take the bed anyways, I’ll sleep on the couch”

You chuckled nervously at that, taping your fingers on the side of the glass as you shook your head in response “no I mean. Just it was really nice last time we-ya know-shared the couch. Would it be okay if we did it again?”

Robby was at a loss for words at the question, his entire mind going blank on the spot as you fidgeted beneath his gaze.

“The answer can of course be no” you quickly cut in with a small laugh “I just haven’t slept as well since so I figured”

“Yeah” the word all but slipped out of him without his head clearing it, Robby finding in the moment that he didn’t really want to walk it back anyways “yeah we can share the bed”

Finally your fidgeting broke as you smiled in relief, relaxing on the spot as you nodded “okay good”

“You go on ahead I’ll meet you in there” he instructed softly with a smile “just gotta lock up first”

Giving him a nod you heeded his instructions, slipping underneath his covers on one side of the bed and laying still, listening to Robby’s nighttime routine as he locked the door and brushed his teeth.

When he finally made it back to the bedroom you could practically feel the hesitance rolling off of him as he stood beside the bed for a moment, not moving an inch as he debated just taking the couch anyways, before he carefully peeled back one corner of the blanket and slowly lowered himself, careful not to jostle the bed too much in case you were sleeping, careful not to get too close to what he considered ‘your side’.

You, however, were having none of that. The minute he seemed to settle you turned around and moved yourself beside him, placing your head directly onto his shoulder with a soft hum.

A startled inhale sounded from Robby as you did so, the muscles in his arm all tensing beneath you the second you made contact.

“I warned you, you make a comfortable pillow” you whispered out into the room attempting to cut the tension in the air. Something you seemed to at least partially accomplish as he huffed out a laugh in response, his arm remaining tense nonetheless “unless you’re uncomfortable cause we don’t have to-“

“no no” he interrupted you softly before you could get too far, his voice slightly hoarse causing him to pause as he cleared it quietly before continuing “could you just lift your head for a second”

Complying quickly Robby slipped his arm beneath your head and wrapped it around you wordlessly, prompting you to drop your head back down onto his chest and wrap your arm around him in response, one leg naturally tangling with his as you buried yourself fully into Robby’s side with a content hum that made him chuckle.

Your mind stayed fixed on the soft patterns he was tracing on your arm with his finger, wondering if he was even aware he was doing it. “Thanks for saving me tonight Robby”

Another appreciative laugh escaped him, your head bobbing slightly as his chest rumbled with it “’saving’ is a strong word there, I just gave you a place to crash, basic human decency”

And you thought about arguing the point, pushing back on his refusal to properly accept your thanks, point out that he was doing a lot more than the ‘basic’ nice thing. But if you knew Robby, and you were starting to think maybe you did, that would just make things worse, would just push him further away, so you let it go, for now at least “and supplied the French fries. You can’t forget the French fries”

“You’re right I did save you didn’t I? Think they’ll knight me?”

“Pretty sure that only applies in England” you hummed back, enjoying the quietness of the moment, the simplicity of it, the lack of any expectation “maybe a key to the city?”

“Not nearly as cool”

“No. No it isn’t. We’ll get you something to make up for it” your next words left you in a sleepy whisper, your eyes already closed, your brain not conscious enough to fully recognize the weight of your words as they slipped out “you deserve nice things Robby”

His fingers stilled at the words, no sound escaping him as he went silent, staring at the ceiling above the bed, all while you finally succumbed to sleep.

-

Things changed after that.

It wasn’t quite as you hoped, you still went days without seeing one another but whenever you had a bad day you had someone to go to, someone you knew would be there for you without question, without comment if that’s what you preferred, and you knew Robby felt the same.

There was no dramatic change, you didn’t automatically start spending every night together but still you found your excuses to cuddle up every now and then.

Something that apparently wasn’t going unnoticed, at least on Robby’s end.

“You seem lighter lately. Happy almost” Dana’s comment came out of nowhere at the end of a fairly standard Thursday shift. As usual with the charge nurse there was no preamble, no beating around the push, no coddling of feelings, she went right to the issue. For the first time Robby found that he really wished she wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry?”

“No it’s good. It’s creeping out the med students, our number of charting errors have been cut in half” She smirked at him, a smile that foretold trouble he did not want to deal with.

“Ah then you’re welcome”

“So you gonna tell me about her?”

And there it was, the metaphorical shoe “her?”

“The woman who’s been making you happy” Each statement was said with such a level of confidence, of finality, it felt absurd to try and push back.

“There is no woman” And yet still he must.

“There has to be a woman”

An incredulous laugh left him at that as he finally lifted his gaze fully from the chart in front of him to look at her. “Is it so impossible to think I’m just feeling better lately” he knew how weak the argument would be before it even left his lips “Maybe I found inner peace”

And based on the glare Dana sent back at him she thought so too “Either there’s a woman or I’m asking Gloria to up suicide prevention measures on the roof”

“Ask her to hire more nurses while you’re at it”

Surely there had to be something else to do in the emergency department than badger him “Does she work here?”

Surely she had to accept his flat out denial eventually “There is no woman”

“There’s a woman” The two of them both tensed slightly at the emergence of a new voice, Purlah’s sudden arrival catching them both off guard.

Dana, however, recovered quickly with a wolfish grin “What do you know”

“I know a lot of things you’ll have to be specific” Purlah leaned on her forearms against the nurse’s desk as she settled eagerly into the conversation. Now was his time to escape.

“About the woman”

“The woman up front? Is there something to know?” The last question was directed to him as the two woman fixed him with their gaze, halting him mid tip-toe.

“I don’t even know who you’re talking about” Robby groaned softly, rubbing a tired hand over his face as he grabbed the first tablet he could see “now if you excuse me I think at least one of us should be doing thier job right now”

“Wait but the woman up front” Purlah stopped him before he could leave “She’s asking for you, says her name is Y/N Y/L/N”

A strange mix of panic and dejection filled Robby at the revelation, both feelings only growing as he watched Dana break out into a wolfish grin over Purlah’s shoulder as she watched his face drop before finally conceding “Yeah send her back”

Purlah nodded and took off and Robby knew news of your existence would be spread to every medical professional on the floor within the hour. So much for flat out denial.

“So there is a woman”

He refused to look at Dana as he switched out tablets “I promise it’s not what you think”

“Believe me I’m trying very hard not to think about it” she snorted, gaze pulling to the door to the ED as it opened and you scurried in behind Purlah, head ducked low and eyes planted firmly on the ground as you held a familiar looking kitchen towel to your hand “She’s cute”

“Not a word” Robby tossed the empty threat over his shoulder as he made his way to the room you were being placed in, choosing to ignore the cackle Dana let loose as he did so, instead putting all of his focus on your clearly panicked figure that sat up on the bed before him.

“Hey I’m really sorry”

“Don’t be sorry” he brushed you off easily, docking the tablet and pulling on a pair of gloves with practiced ease “What’s going on”

“I cut myself honestly a while ago and it hasn’t stopped bleeding” you held the towel wrapped hand out in front of you, offering it to him, speaking much faster than you normally did.

“Alright let’s take a look” he tried to slow down purposefully, to speak lowly and quietly, to put as much calm into his tone as he could.

“Again I’m so sorry to bother you at work and ask for you specifically I didn’t-“ Still you took off at double speed, not even making eye contact with him as you spoke.

“Hey you’re okay you should always come in with stuff like this” he cut you off with a reassurance, hand coming out to squeeze your knee in a small offer of comfort.

“Yeah I know I just feel like I used you to bypass the whole line and you guys probably have a whole system in place-“

“You’re rambling what’s going on” he cut you off again, a small frown as he watched you squirm on the spot, gaze never staying in one spot for long enough to be natural.

“I don’t really do hospitals well” you admitted shyly, the corners of Robby’s mouth ticking up slightly at your words as he shrugged.

“That’s okay me neither”

For the first time your eyes finally met him as you sent him a cold glare “you’re not helping”

He tried desperately to fight back his smile “Okay I’m sorry but listen, small cut, just a few stitches, we’ll have you out of here in no time”

“Right sure, few stitches” he let you all but talk to yourself as he gathered the suture supplies, tuning back in when he heard you voice raise slightly as you addressed him “I’m assuming that requires a needle”

“If you’d prefer I can hold the skin together myself until it starts to heal but I’ll warn you my hourly rate is incredibly expensive”

Another death glare was sent his way, he choked back a chuckle.

“Jokes’re really not helping got it.” He changed tactics with a warm smile, planting himself onto a backless stool a breath away from you, giving your knee a soft knock with his own “I’ve done a million of these it’ll be over before you know it”

Still you looked at him skeptically, a look that told him you were seriously considering his offer of simply holding your skin together himself.

“Hey you’re the one that told me I was a good doctor not that long ago, let me prove you right”

That finally got to you, a dramatic huff leaving you as you deflated slightly on the spot, a defeated “fine” slipping through your teeth Robby couldn’t help but chuckle at as he got the lidocaine ready.

“That’s the spirit. Now local anesthetic, small pinch and a burn” The words came out quickly, more one amalgamation of sound than individual words, his brain already starting to go through the motions when he paused “Imma need you to stop tensing, it’s just going to make it worse”

“Yeah I know I’m sorry” you sighed out the words, giving your shoulders a little shake to try and relax.

“You’re still tensing”

“I can’t help it I’m freaking out” the words exploded out of you as you tried to pull your hand back, Robby grabbing you by the wrist softly to try and direct you back into place.

“Hey hey look at me” he approached calming you down like dealing with a wild animal, entirely soft words and slow movement “sweetheart please I’ve got you. Do you trust me?”

With a huff you let him have you hand back, staring back at him blankly with an expression that told him the second he let go of you you were out the door.

“I’m going to pretend this hesitation doesn’t hurt”

With a roll of your eyes you sighed again, forcing a deep breath as you shook out the tension in your shoulders once more before refocusing your gaze, locking eyes with him and nodding softly “yeah I trust you”

Before you could even think of doing anything else he inserted the needle and depressed the plunger, pulling back quick enough to escape the way you dramatically snatched your hand back from him “Fuck did you just stab me with a needle without looking”

“I told you I’ve done a few of these” he shrugged with a smirk, already moving on to prepare the next step.

“Did you do each of them blind too?”

“The needle was already lined up” he motioned for you to give him your hand back, unable to keep the smile off his face as you glared at him.

“No I’m not listening I want a new doctor”

“What if I promised to look when I actually do the stitches”

“That should be a given?” The words came out in an incredulous shriek that had Robby fully laughing

"I'll give you a lollipop when we’re done”

You narrowed your eyes at him at the offer, hand on your injured wrist tightening slightly before you suddenly thrust it back at him with a huff “If I have a scar I’m suing”

“Deal” he conceded easily, threading his needle and inserting it before you could call it off again, the cut requiring just two quick stitches Robb had you done in minutes “See that wasn’t too bad”

Only when he had finished bandaging did you pull back your arm again, cradling it protectively into your chest as you sent him another glare “I want you to know I’m leaving this hospital with emotional pain as well as the physical pain I was already in”

“Oh that’s my specialty” Robby snorted as he started to clean up “Call it a two for one special”

“I’m demanding a red lollipop in recompense”

Robby looked surprisingly sheepish at that, hands tucked deep into his pockets as he swayed back on his heels “ah so about that we don’t actually have lollipops here. More of a family medicine thing”

You let the silence stretch uncomfortably as you glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest for an effect that pulled a small snort out of him.

“I can offer you a crisp five dollar bill for the vending machine though”

“And you lie to patients” you mused with an shake of your head and a condescending tsk “I’m adding this to my pile of evidence for the malpractice suit”

“My first name’s Michael just so you can make sure to get the right person on that”

You paused at that, cocking your head to the side slightly as you asked “is it really?”

“Yeah” he chuckled softly “you didn’t know that?”

“Always thought your parents just had a thing for alliteration” You shrugged it off with a smile, watching the corners of his tick up in response “seriously though thank you for this. I know I’m not the easiest patient”

“You didn’t get bodily fluids on me or try to hit me so that’s a win in my book”

“Damn so the bar’s low”

“Everytime I think we hit rock bottom someone shows up with a pickaxe to prove we can go deeper”

You let out an almost hollow chuckle, a sound more to fill the awkward silence following a statement you guessed held more truth than you could know.

“About what you said earlier” he hedged the words in, seemed almost hesitant to let them fall.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be held responsible for anything that comes out of my mouth for the duration of this visit”

He chuckled appreciatively at the break in tension, running his knuckles up and down across the palm of his other hand as he looked at you for a moment before physically shaking himself out of it “no I mean if you’re ever back here again, for any reason, tell the nurses to come find me okay? Don’t worry about messing up our system I promise it’s a myth anyways, just come find me”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him at that, the promise falling softly from your lips “I will”

“Good” he answered just a softly with a nod “now how are you getting home”

“Ah I walked” you answered sheepishly “Tried to delay the inevitable for as long as possible”

He shook his head at that but didn’t say anything to condemn it, reaching into his pockets to pull out his wallet “I get off in 45, here”

You furrowed your brow as he tried to thrust a few folded bills into your hand “oh you don’t have to”

“Please it was cruel of me to dangle candy in front of you without following through” he was brushing off your denial quickly, grabbing your hand to force the money into your fingers when you refused to grab it “Get yourself something from the vending machine and wait in the breakroom I’ll take you home”

“Its not that far” you tried again

“Let me anyways” and you could see the silent question in his eyes, the plea, it was a look not dissimilar to the one he wore when he showed up at your door late at night.

“Which way’s the breakroom”

He responded with a soft smile, making his way behind you and leading you forward with a hand at the small of your back, stopping just outside the door to point to a room across the way. “Just through there, I’ll come find you when I’m done”

With a nod you started to make your way to the room, not making it more than a step before he was calling back to you.

“Also if a blonde woman introduces herself as Dana you run in the opposite direction”

“You realize that just makes me want to talk to her more right?”

“It was worth a shot”

-

For perhaps the first time in his life Robby was ready to leave work on time, some may even say he was eager to do so. And if the smirk on her face was anything to go by Dana was certainly one of these people.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve checked your watch in the past five minutes”

Robby chose to ignore her teasing tone, bouncing on his feet lightly as he eyed the board with dread “My shift did end five minutes ago”

She snorted at that, shaking her head as she watched him avoid her gaze “I wasn’t aware you knew what time your shift ended”

Robby sent her a cutting glare “I don’t suppose you’re going to get on Jack’s case like this too for being five minutes late when he’s always twenty early”

She sent him a dangerous smirk and a shrug “Don’t have to Jack’s here already”

Robby furrowed his brow at that, casting his gaze over the bustling ED in search of the attending “He is? Since when?”

“Bout twenty minutes ago” there was a forced casualness to her tone that made him dread whatever she was going to say next “I sent him to the breakroom for coffee, weird he hasn’t come back yet”

Another sharp glare was sent her way she couldn’t help but grin under “You’re too invested in my personal life”

“What personal life” she snorted “thought you said ‘it’s not what you think’”

“I’m leaving” he declared with a nock on the desk “you should too”

“You going to offer to walk me home too” she called after him as he made his way to the bank of lockers, enjoying the pointed way he ignored the comment.

Grabbing his things quickly he threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the breakroom, barging through the door without a thought to see you and Jack sitting side by side, the corners of his mouth tipped up in as close to a smile as Jack got while your soft laugh rang through the air, your injured hand without any of the dressings he had so carefully applied half an hour ago cradled softly in one of his.

“Hey Robby” Your greeting snapped him out of his staring contest with your hands, his gaze meeting yours across the room as you offered him a soft smile.

“Hey” he greeted back, watching Jack slowly, deliberately, retract his hand from yours “is everything alright with your stitches?”

“Yeah they’re good” you affirmed happily “Jack just wanted to take a look at them”

Jack, not Dr. Abbot or even just Abbot, Jack.

“Can’t remember the last time you did stitches, gotta make sure you don’t horribly scar the poor girl” if the smirk on Jack’s face was anything to go by the man knew exactly what he was doing.

“And the verdict is?”

“I’ve seen worse”

He snorted humorous-lessly “high praise coming from a combat medic”

Jack sent him another smirk before turning back to you “let me get you another set of dressings and you’re good to go”

“I got it” Robby cut in before Jack could get up, not enjoying the amusement that danced in the man’s eyes as his gaze cut back to Robby still standing in the entryway.

“I don’t mind-“

“I said I got it” Robby forced a polite smile to his face, one he knew didn’t reach his eyes, a fact that only made Jack’s smirk deepen “Besides I heard you have a case of explosive diarrhea to take care of in south 7”

Jack chuckled as he leaned slightly closer to you, stage whispering while he kept his gaze on Robby “I think I’m in trouble”

You giggled back at him knocking your shoulder against his playfully as you stage whispered back “you better go before you get me in trouble too”

Standing up slowly Jack made his way out of the breakroom finally, sending Robby off with a mirth filled smile and a slightly too aggressive set of pats on the shoulder, finally leaving you and him alone in the breakroom.

“In my defense you told me to avoid Dana, nothing in there about Jack”

With a huff he shook his head, dropping his back next to you “My mistake clearly. Now lets get you some new bandages and get out of here before she has a chance to sink he claws into you”

“Ah you’re about thirty minutes too late for that” you giggled at the way he sighed dramatically at that, sitting down next to you to start applying a new set of bandages to your hand. “I like your coworkers though, they’re nice”

He chuckled at that with a shake of his head “nice is not the word I would go with there, try lacking any semblance of boundaries”

“The best of friends are” you shrugged with a grin, Robby unable to help himself from mimicking it as he finished off your bandage.

Finally free to leave the hospital the two of you made your way out, Robby doing his absolute best to avoid the gaze of everyone as he led you through the packed waiting room. Only when he was safely outside with you did he finally breathe easy.

The silence between the two of you as you walked stretched, blanketed the surrounding area, he couldn’t help but focus on it and yet it didn’t feel oppressive, didn’t feel awkward, he didn’t feel the need to try and break it.

This was the moment everything changed, there was a charge in the air you could feel, a weight to the moment that was palpable.

Robby looked down at you wordlessly, eyes dancing over your face as he just studied you for a moment, the corners of his mouth tipping up as you offered him a soft smile.

“Let me take you out” a simple offer, said on a shrug, followed by an endearing clarification “like on a date”

It wasn’t a grand declaration, wasn’t a cathartic clash, wasn’t a dramatic outpouring of emotion. It was quiet, casual, understated. A facsimile of that first time you spoke in the hallway. A simple hand held out, palm up. An offer for the taking.

“I’d like that”

You hadn’t known all that would result from that chance meeting late at night in the hallway. Hadn’t known all of the comfortable silences, awkward moments, and heartfelt conversations that would be shared in the weeks to come. And honestly you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[darksparklesficrecs]

Alight With The Sparks | M. Robinavitch

Summary: Jack and Samira open a dating account for Robby, and furious Dr. Robinavitch goes to shut down the poor girl they have managed to charm, only for the night to take a turn and change his mind.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut(only one scene), VERY VERY PLOT HEAVY, so much pining urgh, Robby falls hard and fast and first, he is smitten alright, Alcohol consumption, blind date trope, lots of fluff and kisses and just cutesy things, English isn’t my first language<3

word count: 8.4k+

an: so I know I said I didn’t wanna write the blind date idea but here I am with this HEAVY fic! I hope you guys like this pleaseeeee comment and tell me what y’all think about it! Also, shoutout to @m-robinavitch & @pxpecxdy for helping me with this fic!!! ALSO THE PICS DO NOT REPRESENT THE READER!! She is written as neutral as possible with NO details about her appearance! She’s just shorter than Robby!

no beta<3

“Jack, he’ll kill us.”

  “I’ve had enough of his grumbling.” Jack unlocks Robby’s phone, opening his gallery to find at least one good picture of him. “He doesn’t say it, but I can see how lonely he is.”

  “And your solution is to open a dating account without him knowing?” Samira hisses, sitting down next to Jack on the couch, glancing at the bathroom door in the hallway in panic, “Stop— what if he finds out? Oh, great, now you’re snooping around his gallery.”

  “Sweetie, listen,” Jack whispers while airdropping the few pictures he has selected from Robby’s phone, glancing up at the bathroom door before he looks at Samira, “Heather has moved on, all his exes have moved on, and he is sitting alone in a bar drinking while having a midlife crisis. He needs to go out; it’s good for him and my sanity.”

  “You already have a girlfriend, stop digging your nose into his life, maybe he doesn’t— shit, shit, he is unlocking the door!” Samira snatches Robby’s phone, standing up anxiously before she rushes toward the kitchen, dropping his phone face-first on the counter, and busying herself with filling a glass of water.

  Jack clears his throat, looking down at his own phone, a barely visible smirk on his face as he opens the dating app and uploads Robby’s photo without looking suspicious. 

  “What do you want to have for dinner?” Samira asks, smiling awkwardly at Robby, who gives her a reassuring grin in return while he reaches for the tissue box on the counter next to his phone, “I don’t feel like cooking, so…”

  “We’ll figure it out, honey, don’t worry,” Jack, finally after the harsh glare Samira gives him, turns off his phone resting his head on his hand on the back of the couch as he waits for Robby to join him, “It doesn’t matter as long as Robby stays here with us.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Robby drops the crumbled tissues inside the trash, putting his phone in the pocket of his jeans before he gives a soft apologetic smile to Samira, “I think I should leave. You gotta enjoy your time with him now that he’s moved in. I’ll come another day.”

  “You know we are more than happy to have you over,” Samira replies, following Robby to the door, pulling Jack up by his hand to say his farewell, “But no pressure! You’re welcome anytime!”

  “Thank you, Samira,” He gives her a half hug before he pats Jack’s back when he is pulled in for a deep embrace, “Good night, brother.”

  “It’d have been great if you didn’t run away from having a solid conversation with me.”

  “I don’t need you to scold me about my perfect life, I’ve heard enough,” Robby shakes his head as he bends down to put his sneakers on, sighing deeply when he sees how Jack and Samira — both — give him an unsatisfying look, “Don’t even think about talking. I’m outta here.”

  “We want what’s best for you—“

  “And that, Jack,” Robby hits the elevator’s button before he looks back at his friend with a defeated smile, “Is to keep your head out of my business. ‘M not trying to sound mean, I’ve done everything, maybe that’s how it’s always supposed to be.”

  “What? What do you mean?” Samira asks, stepping forward, looking at Robby with a soft frown, glancing back at Jack, who is mimicking her conflicted thoughts.

  “I’m not exactly the best man to date,” Robby shrugs, running a hand through his hair as he waits for the elevator to reach the floor, “I’ve been told, and I don’t disagree. I’ve tried everything—“

  “Not everything.” It is comical how Jack and Samira both say it at the same time, and in that moment, Jack understands she is on board with his plans.

  Robby chuckles, his shoulders go rigid as he waves at them one final time, “I have, trust me. I’m destined to be alone, and I’m fine with it. You should be, too.”

  As soon as the elevator doors are shut, Samira pushes Jack inside the house, slamming the door before running her hands down her face, groaning loudly.

  “Get out your phone, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she grabs Jack by the elbow, pushing him down on the couch as she crawls next to him, “Find him a date as soon as possible. He is becoming an insufferable old man.”

  “See? My idea is fucking brilliant!” Jack grins at her, unlocking his phone to open the dating app, “We gotta make sure we talk exactly like Robby so when they go on the date, she thinks it was him all along.”

  “We’re basically lying, but sure, thank you for your brilliant idea,” Samira sighs, shaking her head in disappointment, but deep down, she knows this is the only path Robby hasn’t taken; maybe something good will come out of it. She can only hope.

  “Okay, choose a picture— definitely not this,” Jack angles his phone so she can take a better look at the photo. The first one is a group photo of Robby and his day shift team; he isn’t looking the happiest and cleanest, and more importantly, he is looking at Heather. So nope, this one has to go.

  “Something that shows his face better,” she snatches his phone from his hands, leaning against his chest as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, “Okay… what about this?”

  “Not bad, but it’s a group photo again— does he even have a picture of himself? Like a solo one?”

  “That’s…” Samira stops, pouting a little when she thinks about it, “That means no one’s ever taken a picture of him. No wonder he feels so drained; he doesn’t have one single picture of himself! Jack he is so lonely.”

  “I’ve been telling you, honey,” Jack kisses the crown of her head, “He needs to find his match again. He found it once, he can do it again.”

  “This app better give us someone worth his time— oh, okay, this selfie isn’t that bad, huh?”

  “He’s holding up a book,” Jack cringes, scratching his jaw as he stares at the photo, “Okay, urm, it’s not too bad, but he looks like a grandpa. We just have to find girls who are into him and whatever category this picture is a part of.”

  “He’s had bunch of relationships before, we’ll definitely find someone,” he watches as she adds his name, making sure she puts down ‘Robby in short’ so his future hypothetical date doesn’t call him by his first name, “Add his height, his job… urm, what else?”

  “What does he like? Besides books, obviously.”

  “Women.”

  “Jack,” she gives him a look that screams as if we don’t already know, “Focus! Hobbies. What does he do when he is out of the hospital?”

  “Drinking, reading… he goes to this really, really old record shop— he’s such an old man, he’s going to die soon—ouch, what?”

  “You are barely any younger than him,” she pinches his arm, rolling her eyes as she adds the things he told her, “Any sports? Football, basketball, baseball?”

  “I think he plays basketball with Jake a few times a week when he isn’t exhausted, which is rare, you should add that he is so tired—“

  “Listen, babe,” Samira turns around, cupping Jack’s face and he takes the opportunity to pecks her lips, “You had a stupidly amazing idea, now don’t fucking ruin it. Let me handle it, alright? Alright.”

  She settles against him again, putting the location on Pittsburgh before she presses ‘done’ and starts going through the options the app is offering in this city. They like some of the profiles, delete the others, and the game of finding Robby a match starts.

  •••••••

  “Hey, man,” Jack strides inside the hospital, backpack slung on his shoulder as he hugs Robby, taking a look at the board before he looks back at Robby, who gives him a sympathetic nod, “Looks like you guys had a rough day.”

  “Yeah, hope your shift is better than ours,” Dana sighs, tucking her glasses inside her bag, “It was a shitshow. A school bus crashed into a tree… a bunch of terrified children ran in here.”

  “That’s the worst you got today? You should hang around and see how much—“

  “It’s not a game of who has it worse, Jack,” Dana chuckles, swinging her bag on her shoulder as she leaves the station, “Enjoy the night, I’m sure you’d love the screaming children who’ve got hand surgery at three in the morning.”

  “Have a good night,” Jack squeezes Dana’s hand as she passes him, looking back at Robby, who is leaning his hand on his forearm on the Central, “Go home, you need rest.”

  “Yeah, I will,” Robby scratches the back of his neck, “I’m thinking of taking a few days off, just to sleep. I know I won’t, but trying it wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Take Friday off,” Jack replies quickly — almost too quickly — before he clears his throat and pulls his phone out of his cargo pants, “So you know, you can have your weekend and a day more off in a row. Please text Samira and tell her I got here, the car’s hers for her next shift.”

  “Sure,” Robby frowns a bit at Jack, watching him go after Jack, and hands him his phone. Robby, hesitant and nervous, unlocks Jack’s phone — yeah, he knows his password, it’s a requirement in ER because they trust each other enough and someone has to get inside this thing in the time of emergency — and he finds Jack’s messages with ease, Samira’s name pinned on top with a picture of her smiling.

  It’s one second, he is too quick, he shouldn’t be this quick, but he is. He catches a glimpse of his name in one of the recent unread messages. He stands frozen, looking at the contact’s name, color draining from his face.

  Robby’s date

  “What the fuck?” He whispers, opening the message without thinking twice, reading the only text available.

  I’m so excited to finally meet you this Friday, Robby!

  He thinks he might drop dead in the middle of the ER. If he puts his hand on the side of his trachea, he would feel how insanely fast his carotid pulse is. He is sweating on his forehead, his back, and his hands. He doesn’t think he can hold the phone any longer.

  He takes another look at the message, and it seems the words are taunting him. A date. Robby. A date he doesn’t know anything about. In Jack fucking Abbot’s phone. 

  Robby walks to the locker room, phone clutched in his hand as he pushes past people to find his friend, Jack, might not be his friend any longer after this conversation — and finds him pulling out his stethoscope from his bag.

  “I’m gonna ask this once, Jack,” Robby squeezes his eyes shut as he holds up the phone, “What the fuck is this?”

  “Wha— oh.”

  “Oh is right, my friend,” Robby glares at Jack, who just shrugs and shuts his locker door, sighing deeply before he grabs his phone and locks it. “Robby’s date, seriously? Are you cheating on Samira—“

  “Woah, woah, okay, man, take a fucking breath,” Jack raises his hands, giving Robby a look that shows if he talks more he might pull out his knife and slice his friend in half, “I would rather lose all my limbs than cheat on her, one. Two, that is your date. See the name, Robby’s name? That’s you. You think I’m that desperate to impersonate you? You’re not half as handsome as I am.”

  “So what is it then? I have a date and I didn’t even know about it?” Robby pushes his hands into his hoodie, turning around to lightly bang his head on the lockers, “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Thursday—“

  “A day before the date? Wow, this is fucking thrilling,” he rubs a hand down his face, leaning on his side on the cold metal, giving Jack a defeated look while crossing his arms over his chest, “Why’d you do that, Jack?”

  “Because I’m fucking worried about you,” Jack hisses, walking closer so he doesn’t need to shout and alert the entire floor, “You’ve been neglecting yourself, I can’t stand that.”

  “You’re talking like a Victorian prince, spit it out, I’m one second away from banging my head on this damn locker.”

  “You are lonely and instead of fixing it, you’re letting it destroy you,” Jack says, putting his hand on Robby’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly, “I know what I did was… unethical, so to say, but you need to get out there, brother. You have to stop letting these destructive thoughts ruin your life, and no, before you say it, you deserve a good life.”

  “I’ll go to that date to shut that poor girl down,” Robby whispers, shaking his head slightly as he takes in Jack’s words. “She’s probably excited to meet me, and I’m gonna go tell her how it was not me. Bravo.”

  “It’s a step even if you tell her no,” Jack shrugs and gives him a soft smile, “But go there, you never know what might happen.”

  “I’m still fucking pissed at you so don’t push it.”

  ••••••

  Robby is nervous. It has been too long since he has felt this way. Nervous about meeting a woman? The confident Dr. Robinavitch, who handles a chaotic emergency department for twelve hours on his own? It doesn’t sound like him.

  What is worse, though, is that Jack didn’t budge for a second when Robby asked him to show at least a picture of his date so he could easily find and send the poor girl home. He already feels responsible for her excitement that he is about to ruin; he feels bad that he has to do this. But there is no other option either.

  He is all dressed up, per Samira’s request; nothing too extravagant, but a dark green fitted shirt with rolled up sleeves and his jeans. He doesn’t know if it is a good look, he shouldn’t care because he isn’t going to stay at all — says hi, shakes your hand, sits down to explain what his idiot friend did, says goodbye, and then be on his way.

  He walks into the restaurant with his hands in his pockets, nervously looking around before a waitress notices him and asks about his reservations. He doesn’t know which name Jack gave them, but a soft voice interrupts his thoughts before he makes a fool of himself.

  “Robby?”

  What he doesn’t except, is for you to be fucking ethereal, as if they have pulled you out of fairy tales and sat you in front of him. If he blinks one more time, he might be able to see you glowing under the soft lights of the restaurant.

  You are smiling at him, standing up to greet him. The dress you are wearing makes his mind go blank. The color matches your skin, and the fabric clings to all the right places that have his mind spinning. And it only breaks his heart that he has to tell you the ugly truth about how you both ended up here — he wishes he could do something to change his unbelievable fate.

  “Hi,” you reach to shake his hands when he walks to the table, beaming at him with such enthusiasm he has never felt, “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Likewise,” he clears his throat, smiling back awkwardly before he rounds the table to pull your chair back, tucking you in gently before he goes to his seat.

  “You’re late,” you whisper, as if you’re scared he might run out of this place before you get the chance to say something else. 

  “Yeah, about that,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at you with soft eyes, knowing what he is about to say might ruin your entire night — the thought makes his heart twist, you are far too beautiful to be hurt because of Jack’s stupidity, but if he doesn’t tell you, he will never forgive himself — so he leans forward on the table with his forearms resting on the tablecloth, “I’m deeply sorry for what I’m about to say, I… I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Oh…?” You sound small, and he hasn’t even spoken the words. This is going to break him, he is sure, cause your bright eyes are slowly losing the glimmer in them the more he keeps quiet.

  “The person you texted was not me.” The cat’s out of the bag now. “It was my friend, he wanted to get me to start dating again, and he thought whatever he was doing was to help me. I had no idea I was going to have a date until a few days ago, and… he even refused to show a picture of you.”

  “So you’re not here for the date.” You take a deep breath, huffing out a slow laugh, “It’s alright, I wish I had known sooner so I wouldn’t spend hours getting ready for someone who doesn’t even know my name.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Robby hides his face in his hands, embarrassment washing over him as he hears you. Fuck you, Jack. “For whatever’s worth… You look incredible. You look fantastic, so… so pretty.”

  “Thank you,” you give him a halfhearted smile — at least that’s a start — and reach for your purse, “I think it’s best if I leave—“

  “Wait!” What the fuck, Robby? He doesn’t know why he is stopping you, he is here to shut this stupid date down and prove to Jack that he doesn’t need to date to have an amazing life, but he already feels like someone has stabbed him when his eyes fall on the little pout on your lips, “Listen, um, I hate that I’m the reason you feel your efforts are wasted, so… let me buy you dinner. This is the least I can do to apologize for this inconvenience.”

  “Are you sure? I mean,” you chuckle, looking down at your hands, “You don’t even know my name.”

  “I can learn your name,” he shrugs, his eyes giving out the subtle hint of his admiration, “If you’d like me to.”

  “Well, I’ve liked you for a few weeks, although now I found out it wasn’t you, but… I’m not opposed to a friendly dinner,” You explain, resting your chin on the back of your hands, gazing at Robby in a way that makes his heart leap into his throat, “At least someone gets to enjoy my outfit tonight, even though it isn’t the Robby I wanted to.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find the real one more enjoyable than the one you talked to,” he smiles, wrinkles deepening as he looks at you, “if it makes you feel any better, the one you were talking to was my friend and his girlfriend.”

  “You’ve got a tough competition then,” he knows you are flirting, he should shut it down, he should tell you to stop, he should stop his heart from racing when you blink and grin at him, he should most definitely look away to stop his cheeks from turning red. 

  “They don’t have you looking all dolled up in front of them,” fuck, fuck, fuck, there it is, “I think I can manage.”

  “Wow,” you chuckle shyly, glancing away for a second before looking back at him, “Smooth, I like it. Definitely better than all the flirting your friends were doing.”

  “See? Real Robby is the real deal.”

  “Don’t take yourself too highly, you might trip and fall,” you grin, “Besides, this isn’t a date, right? Your words, not mine.”

  “I don’t know about that anymore,” Robby looks at you, the heavy feeling in his chest making his lips stretch into a broad smile, “Maybe… we could ignore what happened and start over? And I get the chance to take revenge on them.”

  “Okay, I’m in.”

  “In taking revenge or turning this into a date?” He raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for your answers as he drags his eyes over your face. Jesus, you really are beautiful. How did those two idiots managed to get you to like him only with texts is beyond him. 

  “T-the date,” he can see how you get flustered a little, stuttering when your gaze locks with his, “Other aspects don’t concern me, nor should it bother you.”

  “I can’t just let it slide,” Robby shrugs, “but I’m also too old to get back at him. I would rather focus on things that matter.”

  “Like what?”

  You know what, but he isn’t going to ruin this, not now, not when, after so many countless dates, he is actually feeling something. Robby beams, resting his cheek on his palm as he trails the length of your arm to your face, his grin matching yours.”

  “Like you.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to be here—“

  “Yeah, yeah, well I’m a man, and I’m not immune to what I see,” he cuts you off gently, reaching to grab the glass of water on the table, trying to hide his flushed face behind the cup.

  “And what is that?”

  “Don’t play coy with me now, you know what I’m talking about,” he rolls his eyes at you playfully when you laugh quietly. And he soon finds out he loves that sound, and he would do anything to hear it again, anything.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to say it, you know,” you bite your lip, waiting for him to reply, “I like expressive men, there, I gave you a hint.”

  “Then I’m the worst person on earth for you to go to a second date with,” Robby winces as the words leave his mouth, thinking of how insecure he must have sounded instead of funny, but you don’t cringe, you don’t frown at him, only chuckle and shrug.

  “I’ll be the judge of that, but you need to answer my question first.”

  “Which question?”

  “What changed your mind?” 

  Robby thinks for a long moment. He doesn’t know what it actually is: your beauty? Probably, you looked like an angel waiting for him, and he is glad he could wipe the quick frown he forced on your face when he told you he didn’t know about the date. Your humor? Possibly. But in all senses, you in whole changed his mind, you feel like the person he can speak to, the only one who wouldn’t make fun of him for all the vinyls he has collected.

  “You,” he says, scratching his beard, looking down at his fingers as he clears his throat, “you did. It’s been a long time since I went on a date, and every time I did… something felt wrong. You don’t feel wrong.”

  “You don’t feel wrong either.” You say it with so much grace to him, so soft and pliant that he can’t believe it is directed at him, as if he deserves it, “I’m glad you didn’t stand me up.”

  “I would never,” he tells you, sighing deeply like you have offended him, “and to show that I am truly interested, I’d like to take you out again.”

  “You don’t even know my name!” You laugh, glancing at the waitress as she makes her way to you, before looking back at Robby, who runs his hands down his face, shoulders shaking as he chuckles.

  “What is your name?”

  ••••

  You agreed to come, you replied to his text, and agreed to come. Not once, not twice, not even three times, but ten times in the period you were apart. He asked for your name, got your number successfully without making a fool of himself. So there is no reason you shouldn’t show up. Right? Right.

  But why are you late? Was it all… a fun night for you? Then why did you tell him you were on your way ten minutes ago? You will come, yes, you will, you have to, there isn’t anything stopping you from coming to this date. Maybe his favorite fucking recordshop wasn’t the best choice to take you out, but you begged him to show you a piece of himself, so here he is.

  Stupid, he should have listened to Jack and taken you to the cinema.

  “Robby, oh my gosh, finally!”

  He turns around so fast he thinks he is about to get dizzy, but a giant smile covers his worry as he finally sees you, practically skipping over to him, panting when you reach him.

  “Hey,” you hold onto his biceps as you catch your breath, his hands automatically coming to your arms to hold you steady as he mutters a soft ‘hello’ and squeezes you a bit, “It took me half an hour to find this place!”

  “I thought I sent you the location,” he gives a questioning look, “I did, didn’t I? Samira helped me, and no, I know how to use my phone, but I was never required to share a location. Don’t make an old man joke.”

  “When have I ever?!” You gasp dramatically, laughing when his face turns red, “No, don’t worry, you did send me your location. But it wasn’t exactly the right one.”

  “What?” He is going to die from embarrassment; he is sure he will drop dead on the hot bricks under his shoes, “I’m sure I shared it right…”

  “You chose two streets down this place… It’s all good now! I’m here, late, which I’m so sorry about, but I’m here!” You straighten your back, giving him one of those radiant smiles he has grown quite fond of, before you wait for him to lead you inside.

  “I guess I was nervous… sorry,” he rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat spreading down to his chest as well, “but yeah, I’m really glad you could make it.”

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have lost the chance to get to know you more! Of course I’d show up!” 

  “I’m glad,” is all he can say, before he notices how much his cheeks are hurting from smiling back at you. He manages to walk a few steps ahead, opening the door and waiting for you to enter, “Ladies first.”

  “What a gentleman,” you walk past him, waiting for him to join you as you step to the side, suddenly looking out of place, “Show me around?”

  “Of course, we should go upstairs,” he walks side by side with you, “I’ve been coming here since I got hired in The Pitt, it’s one of the oldest shops in the city, and sells vinyl only.”

  “That’s so cool! To be fair, I’ve only been to record shops a few times, so I don’t know much about them,” you shrug, biting the inside of your cheek, bashful and grinning, “So I’m sorry, you have to explain everything to me.”

  “Gladly,” he replies and pushes the door to the shop open, watching with amusement as you wait for him to enter this time, “Alright, come on.”

  He walks inside, giving you enough space to join him. The atmosphere is warm and welcoming, enveloping you both in its entirety, and Robby feels instantly at home. The colors are brighter, the music feels more vibrant than ever, and you… Your beauty blends so nicely with your surroundings — like you belong there with him.

  He shakes his head a little, leading you between rows of different Vinyls, stopping when he reaches a room full of records on the walls, shelves, and two rows in the middle with record players in the corner.

  “A room full of one dollar records, one of my favorite places to spend time in—” he explains, but soon he is cut off guard when you slowly grab his hand, looking around the room like you don’t know what you have done. 

  Robby stops dead in his tracks as soon as you wrap your fingers around his hand, head slowly turning in your direction, only to find you innocently shrugging and pulling at your bottom lip.

  “I can— if you’re uncomfortable—“

  “No, no, absolutely not,” he stops you before you can say more, smiling as his cheeks turn red again, “I… like it.”

  “Good, show me the rest.” You squeeze his hand, and he tugs it forward gently, pulling you inside the room.

  He feels like a freaking teenager again. He is fifty, fifty for fuck’s sake, yet he is explaining everything about these records to you, trying to stare at you all the time because if he does, he would melt under your gaze.

  “I’ve always wanted to have this,” he says, showing you a record of Pale Blue Eyes by The Velvet Underground at the end of your tour in the shop, “I don’t know why I’ve never bought it, probably because I have tons of untouched records at home.”

  “I buy it for you.” You gently grab it from his hands, pulling him towards the cash register, handing them the vinyl before Robby has the chance to snatch it out of your hand, “No complaints!”

  “I can’t let you do that,” he reaches for his wallet, but you grab his other hand as well, stopping him from moving, standing forward to lace your fingers through his and looking up into his eyes, “I’m serious.”

  “So am I, you paid for my dinner when you were forced to come, the least I can do is to buy you a simple record,” you tell him, letting go of one of his hands to pay the cashier, pulling Robby behind you as soon as you hand him the bag, “Thank you for today, I loved it!”

  “Thank you for coming, honey,” he says, smiling softly when you come closer, craning your neck to look up at him. “I… I’m glad you had fun.”

  “Couldn’t ask for a better date,” you grin at him, letting go of his hand to wrap them around his waist, laying your head on his chest, hiding your smile when you hear how hard his heart is beating, “When’s our next date?”

  “Whenever you’d like,” he wraps his arms around you, too, kissing the crown of your head, sighing softly as he smells the scent of your shampoo, “I’d like to get to know you more.”

  “I’ll think about it,” you beam at him, standing up on your toes to kiss his cheek, pulling away before he can react, leaving him blushing and smiling like an idiot, “Call you later?”

  “Yeah, please do.”

  ••••

  “Robby! Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m not, honey,” he chuckles, hugging you back just as tightly when you jump into his arms, “You said you wanna go and well, I had the day off.”

  “You had the day off, or you found another attendee to fill in your place?” You ask, hanging from his neck, and he rests his palms on your waist, rubbing your back and dragging his eyes down your sundress, “What do you think?”

  “Fucking beautiful,” he breathes out, pulling back a little to take a better look at you, closing the distance so he can press a soft kiss on your forehead, “I can never get enough of you.”

  “Juuust how I like you,” you caress the nape of his neck, leaning up to kiss his cheek before grabbing his hand, threading your fingers through his, before you both walk inside the gallery.

  It has been a good four months since your first date, and Robby, true to his words, made these four months worth your time. He always manages to call you during the chaotic shifts he spends in the hospital to spend dinners at your place. He has kept the date at his house still on hold so he can treat you as best as he can.

  Pet names have become a regular thing in your relationship, he loves how you get flustered and shy as soon as he casually drops another pet name to you, he adores your rambling behind the phone when something in particular annoys you at your work, or when you’d cuddle him to sleep when he reads to you — apparently his voice is ‘magical’ so you say.

  “Jack’s covering for me, he owes me,” he shrugs, pulling you inside the gallery, turning around to glance at you, “Don’t say you feel bad for him, he deserves it.”

  “Take it easy on him, will you?” You step next to him, resting your chin on his chest, “If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be here together.”

  “I hate to admit that he did this,” he rolls his eyes, hand coming up to cradle your face, thumb caressing your cheek before he pulls back before he does something that surprises you both, “Show me around, honey.”

  “With pleasure, Doctor Robby,” you drag him inside, and he lets you walk around the room with a skip in your step, pointing at different paintings, “You know, the museum showcased twenty two of this artist’s works? It was huge, I wish I could attend it back then.”

  Robby just listens, holding onto your hand as you lead him around the gallery, voice soothing and beautiful as you give him information he will forget later, but he still listens intently, nodding and smiling when you catch him staring at you.

  “Sassetta – The Virgin of Humility Crowned by Two Angels,” you read the name, stopping in front of the painting, “It’s an Italian Renaissance painting, early fifteenth century, and it shows the Madonna sitting humbly while being surrounded by angels. I like it, I don’t know why, but I do.”

  You pull on his arm again, guiding him to another painting, talking about them so enthusiastically, and it warms Robby’s heart. When was the last time he had felt like this? So fuzzy and content? He doesn’t remember, he doesn’t care, not when you are showing him around all happy and smiling because you finally got to visit the place you wanted after a long time, and he is over the moon that he could make this happen for you.

  “Enjoying the art?”

  He doesn’t take his eyes off you when you ask him, and he doesn’t answer you either. So with a curious look, you turn around, only to find him gazing at you with such a soft expression on his face, brown eyes glimmering with love.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “The paintings, Robby,” you giggle, pulling him closer, seeking his warmth.

  “You’re more beautiful than all these paintings,” he confesses. When did your lips start to look so kissable? They are taunting him, looking back at him, almost begging to be kissed.

  It’s impulsive; he shouldn’t do it, not here, not in front of all of these people. But he can’t help himself, his self control is gone, nonexistent even. So he puts his hand on your waist, tucking you into his chest as he dips down, locking his lips with yours.

  You taste like vanilla buttercream (how the fuck it is possible, he doesn’t know and frankly, he can’t care less), your perfume is much strong now, the scent filling his senses with such intensity that he deepens the kiss as soon as you loop your arms around his neck.

  Ridiculous, he should have kissed you on top of the Eiffel tower or a boat crossing a river, or with Jack popping a confetti over your heads — but it happens now, in a moment of haste, in the middle of a gallery, after four months of growing closer and closer.

  It is the best kiss he has ever had.

  He pulls back slowly, finally dawning on him what he just did. He kissed you, in front of everyone, in a public space, but… it felt so good, so real, so sweet and deeply comforting, like he was meant to do it.

  “Robby…”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry—“

  “Don’t be, don’t—“ you press your fingers to his lips, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning and kissing him again, “Come with me, people are staring.”

  “Fuck,” he lets out a breathless chuckle, letting you grab his hand and guide him outside, trailing after you like a puppy with his tail between his legs and a very deep blush on running down his face and chest.

  You pull him into the alley next to the gallery, trailing your hands up his chest slowly, holding the side of his neck, gently caressing his throat, thumb bobbing as he swallows. You pull him down slowly, pecking his lips so softly he thinks he might turn into dust.

  Robby, though, is losing the last shred of control he has on his body. He is trying to be nice, but he can’t, not when you are tilting your head and pulling him closer. He spreads his palm over your waist, one running down to hold you by the neck, deepening the kiss like he needs to breathe the air in your lungs.

  “Get a rooooom.”

  You and Robby pull away immediately, looking to find a disgusted teenage boy looking at you with a frown, snorting when you apologize hurriedly. He walks past you and Robby a second later, leaving the two of you heaving and smiling from ear to ear.

  You are the first to crack, biting down your fingers to muffle your laughter, only for Robby to groan and chuckle, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he tries to make himself look small, hands circling your body to hold you close.

  “Thank you for today,” you cup his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes, “Especially for the kiss.”

  “That was spontaneous…” he reddens more, his hands going to hold on to your hips, “But I’m glad I did it, it was bound to happen…”

  “Mhm, yup,” you scratch the nape of his neck slowly, watching him closely as he sighs and leans into your touch, “Wanna kiss me more?”

  “Thought you’d never ask, honey.”

  ••••••

  Robby sighs deeply, rethinking his life choices as he chops the potatoes as best as he can. He spent hours in surgeon rotation back in med school, he even does srugery in the ER rooms for fuck’s sake, so why do his pieces look anything but sharp? He is going to lose his mind if he keeps thinking about it.

  He promised you dinner, a good one, you insisted you would bring the wine, and he caved in. Now, all he needs to do is cook these filet steaks as best as he possibly can. He doesn’t know much about cooking, but he had to invite you to his place; it only seemed right because he had slept countless nights at yours.

  So he is going to do his best.

  There is a knock on his door, a soft pattern he recognizes immediately. Robby wipes his hands on the towel he has thrown over his shoulder, marching to the door to open it for you, finding you leaning on the wall with a bottle of red wine in hand.

  “Hey there, handsome.”

“Hello, honey,” he grins and pulls you in with a hand on your hip, locking his lips on yours in haste, pressing you to the door as soon as he closes it. “Welcome to my cramped apartment.”

  “Hush, I love it!” You peck his lips, letting him lead you inside towards the kitchen, “Where’s your record stash?”

  “In the reading room, and no, you can’t go there. I had to push everything inside there to make the house look tidy since I didn’t have time to clean up like I wanted to.”

  “What do you mean you didn’t have time?” you ask, following him into the kitchen, “Robby, baby, look at me—”

  He turns around, sucking the inside o fhis cheek as you cup his face, waiting for him to say anything. He thought he would be able to hide it from you so you wouldn’t get worried, but you have grown quite well at reading him.

  “I promise I started my shift early to rest before you get here—”

  “You told me you had the day off,” he cringes at your serious tone, but soon a small smile covers his face when you rub his beard, looking at him with nothing but sympathy. “Go sit down, I’ll cook—”

  “Absolutely not,” he corners you against the counter, forearm protecting your back as he rests his hand on the edge, pressing himself into your body, “You’ve already done so much for me, let me take care of you tonight.”

  “How are you going to take care of me?” You run your fingers up his sides, hands slipping under his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin, “Is something going to happen tonight?”

  “Do you want it to happen?” he asks, leaning down, hovering his lips over yours, feeling your hot breath fanning on his face, his eyes drawn to your mouth.

  “Mhm,” you nod, wrapping your arms around his torso, “I do, and I want it to happen now.”

  “You don’t want to see how I ditched culinary school for medicine? Rude,” he skips your lips, kissing your cheek down to your jaw, “Forget dinner, I wanna taste you.”

  He feels you suck in a sharp breath, tilting your head to the side to give him more space as he mouths at your skin, biting and nibbling and moving down to your pulse point, making you hiss into his ear.

  “Robby—“ you gasp when he bends his knees a little, grabbing the back of your thighs to pick you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he walks to his bedroom, kicking the door open before he lowers you on the bed gently.

  You close your eyes, feeling him grabbing the back of your leg to take off your heels, pressing a gentle kiss on your ankle when he drops your shoes on the floor, moving his lips up the path of your leg, tapping your thigh so you would scoot up on the bed. 

  “Open your eyes, honey,” he whispers, settling on his stomach between your thighs, “Need you to look at me, come on.”

  You slowly open your eyelids, biting on your lip as you find him reaching your side to pull down the zipper of your dress, sliding his fingers beneath the fabric to feel the curve of your breast.

  “Take it off for me, please,” he sounds wrecked already. He has imagined this moment in some dark moments when he would allow his imagination to wander freely, “I have to see you.”

  “Okay,” you let out a shaky breath, sitting up after you throw your legs over his shoulders, pulling your dress off and lying back on the bed, only in your underwear, breasts exposed to the chilly air in the room.

  Robby’s eyes darken with desire, hands moving up your belly to grope your tits, muttering a low ‘fuck’ as he pinches your nipple, pushing his shoulders under your thighs to spread your legs more.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he groans, nipping at the skin around your belly button, sinking his teeth into the flesh to earn a gasp from you, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.”

  “Please do,” you sit up on your elbows, reaching for his head to run your fingers through his hair, “Don’t keep a girl waiting, baby.”

  He smirks, fingers pulling on the hem of your underwear, slowly taking it off before he locks his eyes with yours and starts kissing your inner thighs, moving to where you need him the most with patience.

  You look like heaven itself, and taste even better when he licks a fat stripe from the seam of your pussy, humming as he closes his lips, genuinely enjoying the way your hips twitch under his touch.

  “Oh…” you sigh when he starts sucking on your buzzing clit, flattening his tongue on your folds as he drinks your essence. You push his face into you a bit roughly, closing your legs around his neck as he moves faster, lips drawing patterns with an enthusiasm that has you throwing your head back.

  He smiles against you, his beard burning your pussy in the most delicious way, and he knows with the way you are gasping and moaning, he knows you are feeling the euphoria slowly building up in your core.

  He grabs one of your thighs, pushing it against your belly so he has room to push a finger inside without detaching himself from your cunt, thrusting the digit inside with so much care as if you will break.

  “More,” you dig your nails into his scalp, bucking your hips to his face, moaning louder when he adds another finger, curving them both inside you. His fingers are thick, thicker than you expected, and they stretch you out just beautifully. 

  You feel the knot in your stomach breaking, your elbows giving out as you drop back on the bed, legs shaking around his head as you arch your back, releasing all over his face.

  Robby buries his face into you, smothering himself as he laps up your wetness eagerly, drinking you like a nectar. He keeps your hips pressed to the mattress while he fucks you with his fingers through your orgasm.

  “Shit, baby, that was… fuck,” you laugh breathlessly, pulling him up by his neck, “Take off your clothes, you’re too dressed for my liking.”

  “You good?” He chuckles, kicking off his shoes and pants, unbuttoning his shirt only for you to push it down hurriedly, pulling him down on top of you to chase his lips into a passionate kiss, tasting yourself on his beard.

  “Don’t make me wait, I swear if you do—“

  “I won’t, I won’t,” he says, pushing his boxers down in haste, making home between your legs, grabbing his cock in a tight grip, stroking himself, “Fuck, I can’t believe we waited this long.”

  “Jesus Christ, Robby,” you swallow as you look at his dick in his hand; fat, hot, heavy and ready to fuck you into oblivion, “You’re big.”

  He turns red, bright and beautiful, but he soon closes the distance and kisses you, guiding the red tip of his cock to your entrance, gently rocking his hips forward, inhaling sharply as he pushes past the first ring of muscles. 

  You moan into his mouth, hands flying to his shoulders to ground yourself as he pushes inside you, filling you with all he has got in him, caging you under his weight with his belly pressed to yours.

  “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, hiding his face into your neck, pulling out halfway before easing his length inside your puffy cunt again, “I’ll keep you on my bed forever if I could.”

  “You can, baby,” you gasp, nails scratching Robby’s back as he picks up his pace, no longer as sweet as he thought he would go, but now faster, rougher, more urgent and needy. The lewd sound of his hips slamming next to yours echoes in the bedroom, only adding to the fuel of your desire: “You can keep me here as long as you want.”

  “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long,” he whispers into your ear, holding himself up with his forearms around your head, moans and deep breaths filling your hair as he fucks you harder.

  You whine in his throat, pressing your lips into his Adam's apple as you feel your walls clenching around his girth, crying out when he angles his hips to hit your sweet spot, groaning as you quiver beneath him.

  Wailing, you cling to Robby’s body as you gush around him, waves of pleasure hitting your body as he follows you closely, growling at the sensation of your cunt clamping around him tightly.

  He pulls out, fisting his cock a few times before he comes on your stomach, groaning from the depths of his chest as he empties his balls on you, and you hold him through it.

  “That was amazing,” you kiss his forehead, holding him close as he shakes on top of you, gently lowering his weight on you to catch his breath, “You were amazing.”

  “I love you.”

  There, out in the open, three little words that he has wanted to say for the past six months ever since he set his eyes on you. Pulling back a bit to look into your eyes, he doesn’t regret it, he had to say it, utter the sentence softly so he can make his feelings known.

  “I love you, too.” You cup his cheek, pulling him closer, “I love you, Robby, so so much.”

  He kisses you again, this time soft and endearing, full of unspoken promises. He swipes his tongue over your bottom lip, pushing the muscle into your mouth, exploring your taste deeply.

  “I’m gonna go clean up, I’ll come, honey.” He lets go of your lips with a lewd ‘pop’, kissing the corner of your mouth. You nod, scooting up to lie on his pillows, watching as he walks stark naked into the en-suite bathroom to clean himself up, coming in with a warm rag to wipe you off as well.

  “Wine?” You ask, jumping off the bed as soon as he agrees, running to the kitchen and coming back with his phone and the bottle you brought earlier and a corkscrew, “There you go.”

  “What’s the phone for?” He looks at you, grabbing the bottle from you as you crawl into his lap, popping the cork before he puts the wine aside to breathe, hands coming up to hold you by your hips, laughing when you raise his phone in your face, “What’s that for?”

  “Pictures!” You laugh too, taking a few pictures of him, smirking as you notice a few blooming marks on his throat, “There, now you have some juicy photos to put as your profile picture in dating apps.”

  “I’ve already found my match,” he says, squeezing your flesh, smiling when you bite your lips, looking down at his chest shyly.

  “Yeah?” You lean forward, nudging your nose with his, “Plan on keeping your match forever?”

  “If she lets me,” there it is again, the fucking butterflies in his belly, “I’d love to keep her as long as she lets me. For days, months, even years.”

[darksparklesficrecs]

jack abbot + flirty "This is one way to say hello."

It all started innocently. Jack and you became friends after Robby introduced you as the new attending working the hours between day and night shift. You were a blessing, fitting perfectly into both shifts.

It was with good intentions when Jack offered you his spare room after he saw your roommate kick you out so she could live with her boyfriend. You've been friends for almost two years already.

What was he supposed to do? Let you wander around with all your stuff in the middle of the night? Friends helped friends. So that's how, in his mid-40s, Jack started having a roommate.

Six months in, things started changing. You two were in tune more than before. Doing things like you shared the same mind. You started doing things like a couple would. Watching tv cuddling was a must.

At the eight month mark, the flirting and banter began. You started stealing his shirts and coats. He never really pointed out, because he loved seeing you in his clothes. At work, he'd bring coffee for you. Every time. And you'd share your location with him when you were going home.

Dana and Robby had questioned him several times, but he didn't know what to answer. They'd snicker and make fun of him, he just didn't want to make you uncomfortable if he was wrong.

But what should he do when he comes home and finds you wearing only his shirt and nothing else? Cooking breakfast like a dutiful lover?

As if you were reading his thoughts, you approached him still by the door with determined steps. And then you grabbed him by his scrubs and kissed him deep.

“This is one way to say hello.” he whispered hoarsely, promptly hugging you against him.

“I'm yours, Jack.” You stated softly.

After that, the breakfast was abandoned and forgotten.

[darksparklesficrecs]

𝖣𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗋𝖺 {1}

summary; 𝖱𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖨𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅. 𝖡𝗎𝗍, 𝗎𝗇𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽-𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾…

pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x reader

rating: 𝖬𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾

chapter no: 1/2

wc; 8.1𝗄

tags/warnings; 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖼 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖾-𝗀𝖺𝗉, 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗍, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝖻𝖼 𝗐𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗋, 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍

Author; @lucis-dove

a/n: 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 @oldermenfucker 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗈𝖿 𝖩𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖲𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖱𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾, 𝖨 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗍 𝗎𝗉

"I'm out. The mess is all yours." 

That's the single thing Jack receives as a goodbye when Robby walks past him by the nurse station. His backpack is already slung over his shoulders, AirPods just being pushed into his ears to close out the world.

Jack follows him until he walks through the door into the waiting room. He hadn't run into Robby as he arrived nor by the lockers as he put away his stuff. So, the hasty goodbye is unexpected.

His gaze shifts back when another figure joins him. 

Samira stands before him, still in her scrubs, even though the day shift officially ended half an hour ago. Her hair is frizzier at the temples, as it usually is after twelve hours.

"Did something happen?" Jack notches his chin the way Robby had headed not long ago.

She shakes her head only to end up in a shrug. "Apart from Gloria being on his ass almost every time I ran into him today, I would say no."

Jack's brows furrow, glancing at the doors leading to the waiting room.

"Has he been like that the whole shift?" His eyes track back to Samira. 

She tilts her head sideways, brows raising only to fall just as quickly. "Snappy? Yeah, with everyone. That's why I've waited to get my stuff."

An exhale rushes from Jack's lungs, the sigh harsh as his eyes drop to the iPad. "He isn't going to be any better tomorrow."

"No?"

"No," he confirms as he looks up at her. Whatever hopeful light in her eyes flickers out as she realises a night's sleep won't considerably change the older attending's mood. 

"Has anything happened?" She nods in the direction they both last saw him. 

Although Robby was her attending, Samira didn't know him personally. Yes, she had been told things about him since getting to know Jack better, but she still didn't consider herself a friend of his friend. He was still her boss, as far as she and Robby would put it.

"Nothing, and that's the problem," Jack's attention once more falls to reviewing the details from the day-shift. "He bounces back and forth between the Pitt and his apartment."

Samira understands what's not said outright but implied. She'd experienced a similar lack of any social life up until a handful of months ago. 

Friends, first and foremost, had been scarce. The ones she received during medical school were the only ones that came to mind at the time. Relationships? Dating? Yeah, that had been non-existent. She remembers the desperation, even if it flickered out quickly, that pushed her to once download the dating app one of her few friends suggested.

"I have an idea, and tell me if it's awful or not." Jack's eyes shift upwards, seeing her with her phone now in hand. After some fiddling, she shows him the screen.

His eyebrows pull together, gaze dropping only to sharply flicker to meet her's again. "He would never download that himself."

"You never answered if it's a bad idea." Her smile is tentative as she waits.

"He would think it's awful."

"It's awful when you do it yourself, talking from experience." 

Jack cocks his head, chin tipping upwards. "You've used it?"

"I deleted it after a month." She's smiling as she explains, not at the look he sends her but that her idea still hasn't been outright rejected. She pulls the attention from her back to the topic at hand with a slight shake of the phone. "So?"

Jack rolled his head, staring at the screen.

Robby would hate the idea with venom. Partly because this was the negative side of digitalisation and partly because he would never admit that he wanted, needed, anyone. A partner was the last he would mention, even if someone threatened him under gunpoint.

His eyes shift to meet Samira's brown ones, "I'm letting you be in charge of this."

"I'm happy to be if he lays off on his hounding." Her smile has widened, bringing out the dimples on her cheeks. She pockets her phone. "Send me whatever pictures you have of him or the two of you."

Jack nods, "Update me when you're done."

"Oh, you'll get the giddy messages once I start swiping."

He sends her an amused look. "Don't have too much fun." 

"Don't worry." Her look softens as she continues. "See you at shift-change?"

"'Course," the edge of Jack's mouth tugs upwards but is pulled into a line as the commotion from the ambulance bay catches his attention. He's quick to move but still manages a soft touch against Samira's arm as he passes her.

Even if Jack wasn't glued to his phone like Samira that night, she sent him the updates he'd requested.

─He's popular

─I don't know how I feel flirting with women who find my boss sexy

─Don't mind me, desperate women are entertaining

─Oh wait, I think she could be something

It was after Samira sent the pictures from your profile she received the first reply to any of her messages. The notification from Jack brought her out of the conversation with you, the only one she'd found herself jumping back to answer the messages from between swiping.

She's younger than him─

─But much better at actually holding a conversation compared to many who is his age

─And I guessed he maybe had the same taste for a younger partner, like you

Very funny─

─I know, right, I am

─Should I ask her out?

Are you ready to work with him tomorrow if you do?─

─I'll let you mention it, spare me the worst of his blowup

How generous─

Much like Jack had predicted, Robby's mood hadn't changed overnight. 

He still arrived with a polite smile sent to those he passed in the morning, but his sighs ─followed by a hand rubbing the side of his face─ began even before lunchtime. If anything, it felt like each time Samira was close to him, his attitude worsened even further, her good mood doing the opposite of cheering him up.

And it was all because you'd agreed to a date with Robby. 

Samira had asked you yesterday. Waiting with bated breath for your answer, as if she was the one who would meet up with you. Then, when the reply finally came, a short and sweet I would love to, she jumped from her couch with an excited gasp.

Jack already knew. She'd told him yesterday with a quick text. However, he didn't receive the full update until they met by the lockers this morning and were able to read the entire conversation. Throughout, his mouth had twitched until he looked up, unable to fend off his smile any longer as he handed back the phone.

Then and there, they decided to stick with the plan and inform Robby when the day shift traded with the night shift. Not only to spare Samira from Robby's ire but for Jack to also be well-rested when he broke the news. And the confrontation was getting closer.

The night shift had rolled in, the patient rounds with quick briefings were done, and while Jack didn't do the same huddle Robby did in the mornings, he stood in the same place, waiting.

He busied himself with the iPad, at least wanting it to appear that way. But those who paid close enough attention would notice his eyes flicked up at each day-shifter who emerged from the hall leading to the lockers. While it dropped back down in between, the iPad in his hand was forgotten the second the person he was waiting for appeared.

"We'll hold it down while you're off," Jack says as Robby walks up to him. 

"Good," he claps him on the shoulder. "Text if something comes up." 

Just as he turns, Jack speaks up, halting him in the middle of a step. "And don't forget your date." 

Robby freezes, turning to slowly look over his shoulder with furrowed brows.

"What did you say?" Jack meets his gaze as he presses the off button on the iPad, the screen going dark. 

"You're going on a date." 

Robby turns fully and jerks his head sideways, mouth open as he sharply dips his chin, demanding an answer through a sharply asked, "I am what?"

"You've been stressed-"

"When are we not?" He flings out his hand.

"Worse than fucking usual," Jack speaks through his teeth as he leans forwards. "So suck it up and go; we figured you needed something to take your mind off the Pitt."

"We?" Robby's eyes shift to Samira when she suddenly joins them, noticing how her lips are closer to a thin line than the smile she attempts. "Of fucking course," he laughs in disbelief, shaking his head as he looks away, hand dragging over his beard.

"I should keep you separated," he points at them individually when his eyes return to them.

Jack cocks his head. "You already do. Didn't help."

"You- it just feels like you've had a few bad days," Samira interjects, much gentler, but receives the same look of bottled-up frustration, indicated through brows pinned high and mouth open as if Robby was holding himself back.

"And this would solve it?" He asks it slowly, nodding just slightly as he does, not in agreement.

"Maybe not solve it, but take your mind off of it?" She offers hesitantly. His jaw grinds, but he doesn't manage to reply before Jack cuts in.

"It's your only hope at this point. Your workplace-approach didn't work, like for some others," Robby sends him a look, but is simply met with his unrelenting gaze. 

Samira cuts between them, attempting to diffuse the tension, "She's nice."

Dark brown eyes meet hers. Heavier and stormier than usual. "And how did you find her? Hopefully, she's not a patient?" 

Samira pulls up her phone and shows the account she'd set up for Robby on the dating app.

He takes the phone from her as she offers it, simultaneously reaching for his glasses. 

Inspecting the profile, he's met with candid photos of him. In most of them, he's with Jack, but there's the occasional one where he's alone in the picture. The one he's staring at now is one where he's smiling, his eyes cast down to his beer, still dressed in his scrubs in a lowly lit place.

Only when he squints does he notice the shoulder at the edge of the picture, leading him to the conclusion that it's one Samira has of him and Jack from one of the Pitt's bar nights, but where she's cropped it to exclude the latter.

A short text is visible beneath the pictures he flickers through, and once he reads it ─Doctor who likes beer. Obviously, the taller, more handsome one who can grow a beard out of the two─ he groans.

"Christ, this is so much worse." He mutters as he hands the phone back to Samira.

"But it worked," Jack reminds him.

Robby rubs a hand over his face, scratching his neck before letting it fall, sighing heavily. "And who am I meeting?"

"That's for you to find out tomorrow," Samira answers.

His brows shoot up. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes, you're off during the weekend", Jack shrugs as if it explains everything. And while Robby has a suspicion about why Saturday was chosen, he doesn't get the time to comment on it. "You're going to meet at the Italian restaurant a few blocks from yours, the new one."

"And wear something else than your scrubs; you told her the dress code is summer casual, after all." Samira pipes in with an excited smile.

"Oh, I did?"

"Yes, and she liked that you booked the restaurant and told her to meet there as well," Jack's lips are pulling hard in the corners. "She already seems to like you more than the others you've met in recent times."

Robby sends him a look, deadpan, brows set low. "I haven't seen anyone." And Jack knows that.

"Even the more reason to meet up with her." His friend shoots back.

Samira watches Jack and sighs, turning her attention to him. "She seems sweet, said she liked your smile when she swiped on you,"

"So try not to be too grumpy," Jack adds, smug voice and entertained smile not hidden.

Robby decides not to answer, only throwing up a few fingers in an attempted wave as he turns to leave. But he lets it fall halfway through, releasing another heavy exhale as he exits the Pitt.

This thing, scheme, set up, blind date, had been on Robby's mind since he went to sleep yesterday. Only to be reminded the second he woke up through Jack's text message.

Don't chicken out.

He wouldn't, Robby told himself. At least he wouldn't stand you up. You didn't deserve that just because his friends, colleagues in this instance, wanted the same for him as they shared. No, he would show up and tell you the truth to spare your and his time. You deserved that, even if he didn't know you.

That didn't explain why he never felt like he could settle throughout the day. 

He tried to watch whatever rerun shows were on TV but fiddled with the remote. Either flickering through channels or spinning it in his hand while attempting to find something worthwhile.

He caught himself checking each reflective surface he passed in the house, each time running a hand through his hair, only to drag it down his face when he realised what he was doing. After a handful of times, he decided to just take a shower to tame his unruly hair. 

And while he practised what to say when he met you, sorry for my idiot friends or something along those lines, he actually considered what shirt he should wear and which pants it could match as he rummaged through his wardrobe as it neared the time of departure.

He settled for something relaxed: jeans and a light blue jumper with a minimal pattern or weave, perhaps. He didn't really know what to call it. It wasn't too casual, but neither dressed up, fitting for the dress code he had given you.

But what he decided to wear didn't mean anything. He wouldn't stay long enough to start worrying about his appearance compared to yours.

Robby continued telling himself there was no deeper reason for his behaviour as he locked up behind him and headed towards the restaurant.

It was warm outside; no jacket was needed. Even so, he burrowed his hands in his jeans, fingers fighting for room along with his keys and phone as he tracked to the address he, rather Jack and Samira, had given you.

Not until he reached for the door to the Italian place did he actually realise, admit, he was nervous. Not for the… date but to break the news and, without a doubt, ruin your evening.

Robby exhaled harshly as he pulled the door open, cursing the couple that definitely would send him hopeful looks at shift change on Monday.

Only when the equally warm inside of the restaurant met him did Robby remember he had no idea who he was looking for. He hadn't been shown a picture, only received a name after Jack's message about not chickening out.

Unsure of what, who, to expect, he glanced around the room. 

He guessed you were here already since it was only a few minutes until the set time of the booked table. The one under his name.

The main seating area was further in and to the left, while a bar with seatings ran along the counter to his right. It was as his eyes strayed over those seats, his eyes connected with someone's.

He didn't know if it was an accident, not at first. But his attention remained, unconsciously flickering down and up, only to be met by a smile being sent to him. When a small wave followed the reestablished eye contact, it sealed the deal.

Shit, you're pretty. Really fucking pretty.

That was Robby's first realisation as he watched you slide from your stool and head over. You weren't overdressed, following a similar theme as him. But god, if you didn't look even more put-together. 

Dark blue jeans hugged your hips and waist before they fell straight. Hiding what he realised were white heels from the point peeking out from the lower hem and the rhythmic clicking he heard. Your jumper, closer to a cardigan with buttons lining the front, was tailored to fit snugly at the waist. The white fabric looked soft, dressing up the otherwise rougher fabric covering your legs. 

Nothing of your outfit gave away too much of your figure, but just enough his eyes followed it anyways. 

As your pace slowed when nearing, he saw a chain peek through where the two uppermost buttons of your top were popped open. It rested against your collarbones, dainty but glittering as it caught the light.

His eyes jumped to yours when he realised you'd stopped in front of him.

"Hi, Michael, right?" Your voice was soft, the slight smile still there as you looked at him.

He opened his mouth, preparing to tell you that this was all just a big mistake, a rouse to unkindly thank his friends for. But the words died on his tongue as your head tilted, and he noticed that your fingers never stayed still, wringing together, playing with the rings that matched your necklace.

"I haven't taken the wrong person, have I?" You question a bit awkwardly.

"Uhm, yeah- I mean, no, no, you haven't." The words rush from his mouth this time around. You breathe out an amused, verging relieved sound through your nose. "But Robby is just fine," he stretches forth his hand, which breaks up the nervous practice of spinning the ring on your index finger.

"Robby?" You question after you've shaken his hand, letting yours fall along your body again.

"My last name-"

"Hello, do you have a booking?" The voice cuts off his reply, Robby's attention falling to the man who steps up to you two.

"Ugh…" Robby notices how you look towards him, sees it in the edge of his peripheral. He swallows. Fuck, he could just say it later, not make a scene here. "Yeah, yeah, Michael Robinavitch."

"7 P.M.?" He nods even if the waiter doesn't look up from the iPad. "Perfect, follow me," he says, looking up to offer a polite smile to both of you before turning on his heel.

Robby looks towards you, brows rising when he finds you already, still, watching him. He plays it off by nodding forwards, hands leaving his pockets to motion with one of them into the restaurant, telling you to lead the way. 

Your smile reaches your eyes as it widens, turning around to follow the waiter. Robby follows two steps behind. 

"I get the nickname now." You speak to him over your shoulder, glancing backwards. Your voice wasn't hushed but slightly lower to signal you were speaking to only him.

"What?" 

"Your last name. I think I would have a hard time spelling it if you didn't sound it out." He actually finds himself releasing an amused scoff, head dipping before his gaze returns to you.

"Got tired of people calling me everything but it."

Your laugh is preceded by a smile that flashes teeth. And Robby finds himself just looking at you, eyes flickering over your features scrunched into amusement. Even as it falls slightly, just enough to offer a polite thank you to the waiter once he stops by your table ─another one as you sit down and accept the menu─ his eyes never leave you, unable to look anywhere else.

It's not until your gaze flickers to Robby that he realises he's still standing and finds himself pulling out his chair the moment he does. 

He offers an appreciative nod to the man who hands him the same two-sided menu as you received, as well as a wine list, once he's seated.

As the waiter leaves, you nod in momentary goodbye. Nothing familiar, just polite. Robby finds it charming, in some weird or deeply hidden definition of the word in a glossary. Perhaps it's due to his own work in the service sector.

When your eyes trail back, returning from the quick sweep of the restaurant ─which you took the opportunity to do after already looking up at the waiter─ they move over the drinks list in his hands on the way to the menu in yours.

Although Robby planned to explain the absurdity of the situation and let you down gently once the two of you were left alone. Perhaps offer to buy you a glass of wine to nurse while he goes home, intending to deliver a few chosen words to Jack. That's not what happens.

"Want to take a look?" Robby is quick to offer the drink list to you. 

When your eyes flicker up to him, it halts his thought that, in seconds, managed to jump from 'that was not what you were supposed to say'  to 'out of all the things you could say, you chose that.'

"Thank you, but I'm okay. Don't fancy getting tipsy," you explain, one hand gesturing aimlessly as the other keeps holding your menu.

He clears his throat as he sets the booklet down. "Lightweight?"

"Winedrunk is a real thing," you huff, but it's light and airy. Adding in your smile, Robby knows it's all said in jest.

"So, what did you have at the bar?" He remembers the empty glass you'd left behind when coming to greet him.

"A mocktail, just to occupy myself with something", you shrug. "And I'll continue down my boring path."

Robby motions to where he'd put the drink list between you. "Heard they have pretty good non-alcoholic options."

"Actually, I'm leaning towards just a soda." He nods, rapping his finger against the table, focus entirely lost on the menu he holds open in his other hand.

"What's your go-to?" 

He really didn't know what urged him to ask, but the question had already left him when Robby realised he was the one who continued the conversation.

"I'm not fussy," you settle one elbow on the table, propping your chin on it. "So surprise me." 

His brows arch, not anticipating your answer. But you don't shy away from his surprised look. Simply continue watching him with a quirk on your lips, making no move to say anything, nothing to justify or explain yourself. You hold his gaze for long enough Robby understands you are attempting to drive your point home.

He feels the edge of his lip tick upwards. Something about your subtle playfulness elicits the reaction. 

Upon his non-verbal cue, your lips pull to one side, looking like you are biting the inside of your cheek to stop your smile from growing. Although your attention returns to the menu once more, your face remains angled toward him as it's your eyes that move. 

Robby finds his eyes flickering between his menu and you repeatedly. Somewhere along the way, he gets stuck studying you. How your eyes flicker across the paper, or the way your teeth play with your lower lip as it seems you consider which dish is the most appealing.

He doesn't realise how long he's watched you, not until the waiter arrives at the side of the table once again.

Eyes directed to the same man as previously, he notices you do the same from the corner of his eye. Upon the question of whether you're ready to order, Robby answers for you both.

He feels your gaze move to him as he orders your and his drinks, asking for a bit more time concerning the food. He realised ─whilst ordering his usual bear and choosing a soda for you─ that he barely knew what was on the menu after his attention got sidetracked by you.

After the waiter leaves, Robby's eyes automatically move to you. 

When his gaze connects with yours, witnessing the smile you send his way, he certainly doesn't feel the same displeasure rise in his body as when he mentally prepared for this evening. In fact, he reciprocates it. Genuine, no faking it, like he very much thought he would've needed if he forced himself to sit through this blind date.

After that, Robby has his second realisation; he's slowly warming to the idea of being here with you. 

Yeah, one dinner can't hurt. 

While you'd been the one to swipe on Michael, Robby, you'd been pleasantly surprised when he'd walked into the restaurant. 

He looked the same as his pictures, which certainly wasn't always the case. You dared to say he looked even better when you got closer to him. 

Maybe it was due to how he carried himself. You knew how tall he was from the app, but he felt taller in person. Even with your heels, you needed to angle your chin to properly look into his eyes. 

Or perhaps it was those brown eyes. Yeah, they were just as pretty in person as they'd been through the screen. If anything, you had a hard time looking anywhere but them as you fell into a conversation after receiving your drinks and ordering your food. 

They looked perpetually dark, bottomless ─but not emotionless─ in the restaurant's dimmed light. It was easy to get lost in them, far too easy.

"So, how did you hear of this place?" You ask him. He's gotten more comfortable in his seat, leaning against the back. 

"Heard it from my… son?" 

Even if he grows unsure towards the end of the sentence, making it sound like a question, your brows arch. You hadn't seen that on his profile, nor was it anything he'd mentioned during your short back and forth. 

And Robby notices your reaction, it seems, as he is quick to clarify, "Not my son. Jake, he's the kid of my ex." 

Robby winces after it's said. He may not have dated in years, but he knows the etiquette about bringing up exes on first dates.

"Yeah, sorry, you probably didn't need that detail." He sheepishly drags one hand over the side of his face, ruffling that side of his hair, only to slide down along his bearded jaw and down his chin.

"It added to the explanation, so I'm not offended." You say it with a wink at the end, letting him know no real harm has been done. "So, you two are close, you and Jake, I mean?"

"We're building back up to that point after some rough patches." You nod, deciding not to push upon catching the tension behind his words.

"And you and your ex, I suppose you're on good terms if you still hang out with him occasionally?" His head cocks as you ask, and you simply raise your hands. "Hey, you mentioned it, I'm just gauging."

And Robby believes you. He doesn't know why, but you make it feel easy to talk about these things. It's the first time he does it with someone who knows nothing of his background in... how many years, he doesn't know. 

"I guess. We don't really talk, only if it concerns Jake, but it's not like I'm always present at every big step he takes." You nod with a bit of hum

"If you don't mind, why did it end? From the outside, it looks like you've stepped into some kind of father role for Jake. It feels like you don't abandon the relationship it stemmed from readily."

"Me and the kid got on better than me and his mom." You chuckle at the joke. He smiles but continues with a half-hearted shrug. "Work, I guess, always the joykiller."

"Doctor, was it?" He nods twice, guessing you'd worked it out from the pictures he wore scrubs in or during the texting Samira had done with you. "I guess that does take up a lot of time."

He chuckles, hearing how it brushes on sardonic in his own ears. "You could say that."

"So, long-term then? Do you feel like that's correct if your work takes up so much time?" 

That question makes him stall, hesitate. Not because he didn't know where it came from. He'd seen what type of relationship preference was visible on his profile. It was the only option he would've considered as well if he, over his dead body, would've created it himself. But he didn't think you would ask about it, no less without averting your eyes as you waited for his answer.

"I… good question, honestly," he couldn't help but exhale, rubbing his neck. 

Robby had, of course, thought about it and knew it was the reason most of his previous relationships gave away in the end. He wasn't the sole fault for it. Janey and Collins both had careers they'd also wanted to focus on advancing or just maintaining amidst everything else. 

"It's not that it takes up too much time, just that it never technically leaves you, me, even if I'm not at work." He looks at you, eyes locking with yours from unconsciously having fallen to the table. "It's not something everyone wants to sign up for and…"

"Not something you want to put them through?" You lean on the table, resting your temple on your fist, eyes on him.

Robby doesn't know if smart would be the word to describe you for working it out. Perceptive, maybe, as you'd suggested the reason he'd left out with enough confidence to showcase that you knew that's what we wanted to say. 

And you weren't wrong.

"It's just easier to sometimes not bother when you know the outcome." He confirms. Not defeated, just the simple truth.

"Being alone can be awfully comfortable." 

It's his turn to tilt his head in intrigue. "Speaking from experience?" 

"Yeah, you can say that." You smile, but it's not as light as your previous ones. "I've met enough people who want fleeting things and never even want to try and settle." 

Without having seen your dating profile, Robby gathered what your questions tried to determine, as well as what your preferences were. "In for a penny, in for a pound?"

You break into a smile as you sit up again, leaning back with your arm loosely folded across your chest. "If you want to choose the lightest saying."

"So, any exes I should know about?" 

Concerning how you two already have broken the standard protocol for a first date, he isn't shy to steer the conversation to focus on you this time around rather than a topic of favourite colours or foods.

"None recent and none who's left much baggage." You share with him. But it seems like you're reminded of something, your lips pulling at the edges as you grimace. "People I've dated on a short-term basis are a different story. But I feel like you're not the kind of man who's got the patience to listen to how miserable guys are with dating in this day and age."

"You're probably right." He scoffs, able to imagine it more than well. "Men can be impossible."

You chuckle at that, and Robby finds himself smiling.

The silence you settle into as your sound of amusement fades is short-lived, your food arriving to break it and the eye contact you shared.

Although the conversation evens out while you eat, occasional comments are shared. 

Some touch on superficial topics. Robby likes sports, you don't mind them. You both enjoy reading, but he prefers journals, while you gravitate towards fiction of most kinds. 

Others don't, but neither of you shy from them.

You don't use the exact words, but when thoughts are shared on partners and relationships, your answers are nonetheless similar. Not uncomplicated, unchallenging. But right, worth attempting.

Robby finds himself wanting to know more, curious about you. With how your conversation never waters down into prolonged and strained silences ─of course, the occasional lull, but it's filled with shared glances─ you seem equally as invested. Asking about him, gazing at him while he speaks, sometimes with a small smile. 

Without realising, those hours he never intended to spend with you in the first place pass. 

Your bubble breaks when the waiter appears and plucks the dishes from the table, voicing an open question regarding dessert.

Robby glances at you, and you notice his attention. With a little jerk of his head, he silently tells you to decide. Your eyes move back to the waiter, only answering when the clatter of cutlery and plates has silenced and he balances the dishes in his arms.

"We're good, thank you." You smile up at the man, who offers a nod before he walks off. Your attention lands on him again, "I'm just going to the ladies. I'll be back soon," you excuse as you stand up.

"You'll find me here." Your eyes remain on him even as you begin walking away, and Robby catches the flicker in them, relieved, happy. It's mirrored in your smile, hidden only when you face forward. 

Without realising, he feels how he reciprocates your smile even if you can't see it. 

As you wash your hands, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you have to forcefully purse your lips to beat down your smile. 

This evening was going above and beyond whatever you'd imagined. It was hard not to consider what was possible down the road if it continued like this. But Robby... he just made it too easy to accidentally trip and fall right down that rabbit hole. That's precisely why you needed to run your hands through the coldest water possible from the tap. 

As you placed them on the back of your neck to ground yourself, you exhaled slowly, putting a lid on the ecstatic quiver in your chest. Your eyes fluttered close for a brief moment; annoyingly, your mind simply conjured a picture of Robby behind your eyelids.

You shake your head, opening your eyes, only to see a smile has worked itself onto your lips again.  

"Jesus," you huff, the excitement in your own voice not lost on you as you dry your hands. 

This was only a first date. You really needed to approach it as if it meant nothing. Disappointment was too close otherwise.

Yet, it's proved impossibly hard to keep yourself to that, your smile already returning once your eyes find Robby as you get closer to the table.

When you're a few feet away, he turns to you, probably catching you nearing through his periphery.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks, standing up before you have time to sit down again.

Your brows pull together. "But the check?"

"I took care of it." Robby waves towards the way you just came, insinuating he paid while you were gone.

"Thank you, that's really kind." Your head dips as he takes the lead to the exit. "I appreciate it." 

He doesn't respond, not verbally, but he throws a look over his shoulder, lips tugging upwards. 

It took every part of your non-lizard brain to continue walking and not just dumbly stop in the middle of your step. Robby had looked so incredibly good in that short instance that it took you off guard in that off-hand realisation way. 

You'd stared at him countless times tonight, never denying you sat across from a handsome man. But that, and how he now holds the door open ─close to the hinges as he'd already stepped on the pavement outside and looked back at you─ would ingrain itself in your memory forever.

"Which way are you going?" He asks once you join him on the sidewalk. 

You nod towards the left.

It grants you a smile that makes Robby's eyes gentle and incorporates his whole face. His smile lines appeared. The wrinkles deepened on his forehead. The creases grew beside his eyes. 

"We're heading the same way," he says, and just like that, you set off in the same direction. 

A conversation flows easily. You laugh slightly louder at his sarcastic comments, able to when you weren't indoors. His chuckles also ring deeper as he watches the way you look up at him after softly swatting his arm. The kind of minor physical contact that wasn't possible when sitting opposite each other. 

Yet the air of finality was hard to ignore. The daunting feeling the night was closing in on its end grew. 

As Robby slows his pace, which you catch onto a few seconds later, as if you didn't anticipate it, he knows for sure it is. 

"This is me," he nods down the right turn of the intersection as he says it.

You offer him a smile, motioning forward. "My bus stop is a few blocks away." 

"You took the bus?" You hum with a nod.

The wind has picked up during your walk together. It's not cold by any means, but being this close to the water increased the power of the gusts. Robby notices your shiver, probably just due to the sudden shift in temperature by a few degrees more than actually freezing. Even so, he finds himself stepping in front of you.

You follow Robby as he moves, cutting off the gust of winds that previously blew into your face. Your eyes widen slightly as you realise what he did, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. 

"Thank you," you quickly follow them up with something to cover your shocked appreciation. "I enjoyed tonight."

"Yeah, me too."

"I really didn't have any expectations." You admit with a chuckle. "I honestly headed into this with the mindset to get it over with and be disappointed if, and no offence, I thought you would, proved to be a completely different person than over text."

Robby chuckles and shakes his head. Apparently, you'd had the same attitude toward this as he had.

"Maybe I'm shooting myself in the foot by telling this, but-" This time he looks sideways, hand finding the back of his head, scratching it as he continues. "-some friends set me up for this date. Without me knowing."

"No, you're joking?" His gaze shifts back to you. Your lips are slightly parted, brows knitted together.

"Didn't know I had a dating profile until yesterday." He gives you an apologetic smile, arm dropping to find shelter in his back pocket.

Even though he didn't reveal how adamant he'd been to call quits on this, Robby still thought the information he shared would be enough for your surprised expression to turn sour. Maybe even take a step back, excuse yourself and be on your way now when you know. 

He didn't anticipate seeing amusement, maybe even curiosity, bleed into your surprise as a laugh bubbled slowly in your throat until it filled the air.

"Oh, god, I-I'm sorry," you excuse through your chuckling, biting your lip and dampening it into a smile before you decide to continue. "I really thought someone like you-," you abandon the rest of your sentence with a small shake of your head. 

That made his head cock, intrigue rising suddenly. "No, tell me." 

Your brows rise, tongue wetting your lips, chest stuttering a little on your inhale. To Robby, it was clear you hadn't thought he would ask you to continue, explain what you'd left out.

"I, well… figured you didn't need any apps with your looks. If we base it on how I malfunctioned when seeing your photos." Your chin drops, watching your toes as you shift the weight on your feet. 

You remember the noise you let out as his profile grazed your screen, very undignified. Enough so that you'd looked around your empty room to see if someone accidentally heard you.

"You're exaggerating."

"No." Your head snaps up, Robby looking as surprised as you feel upon the conviction behind the statement. You fumble to continue with an explanation. "I mean, you look good, really good; most women would think so."

"I'm on the wrong side of fifty."

Your head does a minuscule shake as your brows furrow as if you can't comprehend his words. "And?"

"I have greys in my beard." 

You hum, bewildered expression dropping just like your eyes do as they narrow lightly, focusing on his beard. God, that beard. You hesitate, only to take a step closer. 

Robby inhales at the proximity, only getting a lungful of your perfume rather than the fresh air needed for his brain to function. But he doesn't mind your closeness, not at all. 

When you slowly raise your hand, he watches as bewitched. 

You do it slowly enough so he knows you leave time for him to object, step back, say no. But he doesn't move an inch. Simply follows your hand that reaches for his chin, waiting to feel your touch.

The gentle sensation of your nails scratching his skin beneath the coarse hair as your fingers card through his beard sent one long shiver down his spine.

"Congrats, you're one step closer to becoming a silver fox." He actually chuckles at that, shaking his head. Your hand automatically falls again as he does, but you don't step away.

"And you don't mind?" He looks at you again, searching your eyes even if a smile greets him.

There's a gap between you. He'd noticed it as soon as he saw you in the restaurant. Compared to him, there were yearsuntil you even started greying. The lines on your forehead and around your eyes still tilted more towards smooth skin than not, unlike himself.

"Do you think I would've swiped, let alone met up with you if it did?"

"Maybe you just wanted a free meal," he shrugs. He doesn't really believe it himself, not after getting to know you. So the rise of your brows doesn't surprise him.

"I'll let you know, Robby." The slow, accentuated way you say his name while you notch your chin higher makes his heart speed up. "I may have decided to meet up after that short conversation with your friends. But I stayed throughout the dinner because of you." 

"So my dad-jokes worked?" He doesn't even realise he bends his neck slightly as he asks you. But he does notice the hitch in your breath as he does.

Robby's smile is slightly toothy as he looks down at you. A grin almost. It looks remarkably boyish for someone of his age, a juxtaposition to the rest of his aged features. But you found it simply spread fondness through your chest like so many other things he'd done tonight.

"Yeah, yeah, they did." 

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Hopeful for a second date?"

"Am I wrong to think I have a good chance?"

"No."

You hadn't noticed how you both inched closer, gravitating towards each other. Your chests almost touching. The point of your shoes nearly meeting his. But it does feel like you realise it at the same time. Both your eyes fall, only to meet again seconds later. 

He takes a tentative step closer, a shuffle more like, angling his head down as one hand slips from his jeans pocket. You have a feeling where it will land but are surprised when it settles on your waist. 

"I really had a good night," his voice has dropped, rough and low. 

"You've already said that." Robby's hands slide to your ribs, leaving behind goosebumps he can't see, but you can feel.

"Needed to say it again." It's more of a mumble beneath his breath as he watches you closely, following your reaction to his hand jumping to the curve of your shoulder, moving until his hand cups behind your neck, thumb along the hinge of your jaw. "Since I didn't think it would be."

"Robby-" his name is a whisper, breathed into the space that still separates you. Far less than before, but still not enough to touch. Not until he dips closer, tongue rolling to briefly be trapped between his lips before they part.

"This okay?" His nose nudges yours, the tip rather than the side, as he remains far enough away that his brown gaze can meet yours.

"Yeah." Even if his eyes fall to your lips as you reply, he remains a few inches away. 

You swallow, inhaling, eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth. Robby's jaw clenches, then it slackens, his grip on your face shifting.

It's you who tilt your head and lean closer, but it's Robby who closes the gap and initiates the kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut as his warm, rough lips press against yours. 

You hadn't had enough time to dream- consider this. A second date, more down the road. But not this, not tonight. And yet, everything about kissing Robby feels right.

It feels natural when your hands fall against his stomach as he parts and tilts his head, only to seek you out again. The shivers working overtime through your nervous system ─prickling the skin across all parts of your body, enough for your hair to stand at the edge─ feel good and not uncomfortable. And when his other hand lands and curves over your hip, his warmth radiating through the fabric of your clothes as he pulls you into him, you welcome it.

When you part properly and with more space than a breath that fans hotly against each other's lips, you finally look at each other again. 

Robby is the first to speak as you inhale a lungful of air, attempting to steady your hammering heart after witnessing the look in his eyes.

"Do you want to stay at mine?"

Yeah, all that air? Gone.

The air you just pulled in whooshed out in an exhale that sounded like a rushed huh?. Apparently, his own comment caught him off-guard, his brows shooting up high enough to accentuate the lines on his forehead.

"I-just…," he swallows, cutting himself short. 

You feel how he wants to release your face and smoothen the hand down his face. In the end, he settles for a quick sideways-jerk of his head, accompanied by a smile that is void of humour in contrast to troubled.

"I'm just offering for you to stay at mine so you don't have to take the bus this late." You blink, watching him for a few seconds. Then you suddenly break into a smile, brows cocking.

"And you don't offer to pay for a cab to take me home but invite me to sleep over?" His mouth falls open, face elongating, a pink hue spreading across his cheeks as he averts his eyes.

"Christ, I know how it sounded, but I'm not expecting anything, just…if you want to- feel like-" he cuts himself off with an exasperated noise and a shake of his head. "I should just have offered you that cab ride." 

His brown eyes look from the ground to you, apologetic as bashfulness shines in them. 

You can't help but chuckle at the state he's in. The troubled furrow between his eyebrows. The slight pink still tinging his cheeks. 

What spurs you to respond is when you feel his hand slide from the side of your neck and your hip.

You halt his movement by moving your respective hands to the outer part of his arms, then elbows. With a slight push, you redirect his hands, that's just about to fall alongside his body, to land at your waist.

"I'm taking you up on that offer." Robby visibly relaxes, his hands on your waist settling fully rather than hovering. "Lead the way, if you're not having second thoughts on that cab?"

"Are you?" You shake your head. In return, he nods once, only to motion sideways with his head. "Let's go."

Although Robby's hands fall from your waist after the slight tug to direct you along with him, you walk closer than before, arms brushing, fingers touching every now and then. 

Your pulse is already thrumming, and even though you want to, you don't intertwine your fingers with his. Instead, you settle on slipping your hand around his bicep. Which is still quite daring if you go off how your heart jumps as you take the plunge. 

Whatever hesitation you had is quelled when Robby accommodates instantly, arm bending slightly. You bite your lip, gaze still set forward as your other hand also settles on him at the green light, draping across the crook of his arm, near where his forearm starts. 

You softly squeeze his bicep. He reciprocates with a lightly flexing and bringing it closer to his body, trapping your hand in a gentle press against his ribs. It's nothing and so much at the same time.

[darksparklesficrecs]

Past life

Pairing: Michael ‚Robby‘ Robinavitch x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, past relationship, swearing, second chances, Robby has issues

Words: 5k

Summary: After coming back to the Pitt after years away facing Robby is by far the most painful part.

A/N: Hello everyone! Guess who is back from the dead! Uni kind of took over my life for a while and I sadly didn‘t have time to write fics. But now things have slowed down a little again and I am going to start writing more again. I hope you can forgive me for my absence. This is my entry for the ADAD event, I hope you enjoy, lots of love :)

The sound of the ED moving around her was a strange, yet familiar kind of chaos. The kind of chaos she had learned to love over the course of her many years working in it, people shouting for something, nurses running around, someone always cleaning up. Patients that were trying to get seen quicker, Doctors that had their hands full, but still needed to satisfy the whims of administration. It was always like that, it had never changed, not over the course of her career at least.

She had already seen him the moment she had entered, hunched over one of the computers, typing something into the system, probably keeping up with charting, as organised as he had always been. He had not seen her yet, his reaction would probably have been obvious if he had. His back turned towards her, the blue jacket hanging over his shoulders, not something he had worn while they had first worked together, back then he had always opted for a tight fitted long sleeve beneath the scrubs. The feeling of the ring dangling on her necklace somehow got heavier as she approached the nurses’ station, cald in the black scrubs of the Pitt as this chaos was affectionately called.

Michael Robinavitch, the man that had made her learn to love the chaos during her third year med school rotation, the man that had shown her that even when you had so little you could do there was so much of an impact you could have, the man that had turned her life upside down with a simple question, still had not noticed her.

A mentor, that was what he had been at first. Someone that had taken her hand, guiding her with so much gentle confidence that it made her question her decision to go into pediatric surgery. It had startled her at first, how good she was at Emergency medicine, but Robby had simply led her gently, let her make decisions and showed her how to do something the right way if she ever made a mistake. Due to him she had changed her mind, decided against pediatric surgery, deciding to go into Emergency medicine, a decision she would never regret.

Then he had become a friend, someone she could confide in. Someone that would help her through a rough patch in which she doubted herself and her abilities. He had been her rock during many difficult times in her life, stood by her with a certain kind of unwavering loyalty that only Robby had. The man had become her constant, the only thing she felt she could rely on, the only thing she knew would be there even when there was nothing else was left, the thing that made sense when everything else was nonsense.

And then he had become so much more to her. Until it all had fallen apart in one single night, not even within an hour.

“Look who is here!” an excited voice, a voice she still had in mind much younger and inexperienced, came from the nurses’ station. Many heads turned and on some faces confusion was evident, some of these faces she didn’t even recognise, but there were still some familiar faces, faces she had missed. Faces that belonged to people that had shaped who she was as a person. People she regretted having to leave behind to take her own path, to figure out who she was.

“Well, well, well,” the tall, broad shouldered figure of Frank Langdon, the person that had first spotted her, grinned brightly at her. He looked older than when she had last seen him, well, it had been some years since they had last seen each other. His hair still floppy, his grin still big and confident, though there were a few lines on his face now. He looked more tired, like he was bearing some kind of weight with him, though the most notable thing she had seen were the wedding ring and the bracelet on his wrist, a bracelet a kid had made. For a moment she wondered if he had actually married Abby, the girl he had been with when they had first met.

“Look at you,” she was unable to suppress the sarcasm in her tone, “So big and still not grown up,” she patted him on the shoulder, a surprised laugh came from him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Still got some bite left in you?” Langdon asked as he tilted his head to the side, a grin on his face. Shaking her head she tutted slightly, a grin slowly growing on her face as she looked at the younger man. His eyes shimmering softly in the light of the ED.

“What are you doing here, darlin’?” Dana sounded as surprised as she imagined, stepping up beside Frank, concern etched on her face. She had been the one to comfort her that night, the one that held her tightly and told her that everything would be alright.

“Well,” she sighed, shoving her hands in the pockets of her pants, shrugging slightly she gave Dana a guilty look, “New Orleans and LA were great, but…” she paused for a long moment, glancing over at the workstation where Robby had been only a few moments ago she saw that he was already gone again. It made her heart crack open all over again, not like it had all those years ago, but it cracked nonetheless. She wanted to laugh, a heart that had never mended breaking further.

“I felt like I needed to come back,” she smiled at Dana, shrugging slightly. “Felt like the right thing to do after that much time,” Dana looked at her like she had just told her something about magic and dragons in a land far beyond Pittsburgh. Like she had just told her that she wanted to go back to a toxic ex-boyfriend.

“It’s not been that long since you left,” Frank sounded mildly offended, like she was insinuating that he had gotten old.

“You were practically still an infant when I left,” she muttered under her breath, “Freaking fourth year med student,” shaking her head she gave him a small grin. He looked mildly offended as she winked at him. Back then she had been the senior resident, taking him under her wing, making sure that he did not drown in the chaos of the Pitt, trying to keep him confident and sure of himself.

“So…I think I am just going to ask the question all of us are asking ourselves…” the voice of a young woman came from one corner of the nurses’ station, mild annoyance evident in her tone. “Who exactly are you?” She looked at the other woman, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, eyes bright in the light of the ED. For a moment she looked at her, she was young, still bright and held herself with a confidence that made her wonder if she would hold up in the ED for longer than a few months. Frank let out an annoyed groan as he looked at the young woman, like he was already fed up with her. His brows etched into a frown, lips tight, giving her something that looked eerily like her own warning glare.

„That is one of the most impressive people you might actually ever meet here,“ Dana gave her a fond smile as she looked at the younger woman, ,“That is one of the best emergency medicine doctors of this century,“

„Don‘t flatter me too much, Dana,“ a laugh escaped her as she shook her head, „I am simply trying my best every day,” That was true to some extent. She had gotten nominations for prizes, there were scholarships named after her, she was published in multiple renowned medical journals as an expert in emergency medicine, hell Pinn even offered her a teaching position. A position she had declined to come back to the Pitt after working in different hospitals over the last five years. Many things could change in five years, she had grown as a person, gotten better at everything she did, become incredibly confident in her own abilities.

“Alright people! Enough chatter! Rounds!” The all too familiar voice of Robby called from somewhere behind her. She turned her head slightly, seeing him standing there, Heather Collins standing right beside him, their heads tucked together in a quiet conversation. She still wasn’t sure if he had actually seen her, he probably had, simply pretending like he couldn’t see her. Feeling a knot forming in her stomach she looked at him for a long moment, the crowd around her started moving. Frank gently put a hand on her shoulder pushing her to move forward.

As she began to walk a young woman, blonde hair in a braid, glasses balanced on the bridge of her nose appeared right beside her.

“Hi, I am Doctor Melissa King, but everyone calls me Mel. It’s really nice to meet you, I read one of your papers on child drowning victims! It was a really interesting paper and I liked your ideas regarding the subject though. There is just one thing I wanted to ask: How did you get that many case reports on the matter?” Mel was speaking incredibly quickly, eyes wide, her hands fidgeting.

“Nice to meet you Dr. King,” she smiled at the younger woman, “I am glad you found the paper interesting,” she paused, “And regarding your question, there are a lot more drowning accidents in LA and Chicago than Pittsburgh due to the proximity to the ocean,” she hummed as they walked towards Robby and Collins. The chain around her neck now felt too heavy for her own comfort, like it was weighing her down, trying to drag her to the ground.

“Of course! I am so sorry, that was a stupid question!” Dr. King turned a soft shade of pink, her eyes going even wider now.

“It wasn’t. You assumed I wrote the paper here, no need to apologize,” she spoke softly. Stopping a few feet away from Robby and Collins she crossed her arms over her chest. The circle began to fill, many of the people she did not recognize, especially the residents, though she definitely recognized many of the nurses. Finally Robby looked up from the IPad, his eyes finding her right away, they were still beautiful, the deep brown still as sad as they had been five years ago. His gaze was unwavering and what looked like some kind of neutralness on his face had turned into something else, it wasn’t hatred, it wasn’t anger, no she could see it on his features as clear as day, like she had always been able to, there was deep regret and pain etched onto his face. He looked older, the pandemic had worn him down, drained him, like it had many medical professionals.

“Alright people, first of all, as you may have noticed we have a new member to the team,” he said her name, like it was some kind of silent prayer that he had not dared to speak in too long, the way he caressed every single syllable was almost too caring for what had happened between them, though she knew that if she was in his position she probably would say his name the exact same way, “If you need anything the senior residents can’t help you with she is the one you go to before me, she is damn good at what she does, listen to what she tells you.” there was a certain fondness in the way he talked to her. For a moment she wasn’t sure if she was glad about it or if she wanted to rage at him, the whole thing would be easier if they were mad at each other, if they had parted ways hating and loathing one another, it would have been so much easier, but that had not been in the cards for them.

Rounds were a more or less quick affair, there had been rounds that had taken much longer, she knew that the person making sure that the Pitt was running smoothly was Robby, like Adamson had done in the past. A lot of patients were simply waiting to be transferred to the right department, it was always like this, the hospital not wanting to spend too much money on nurses to properly staff upstairs, then whining about the patient satisfaction. Luckily both Chicago and LA had been okay in that department, but she knew that it was sadly the norm to keep patients waiting down in the Pitt.

“Alright people, let’s get to work,” Robby announced and the crowd scattered, she had decided that she wanted to gauge how the med students and the intern were like, apparently the intern was a bit mouthy, but the two med students seemed to be nice.

“Whittaker, right?” she asked as she approached the young man, his eyes wide and tired as he looked at her.

“Yeah?” he nodded jerkily, like he was trying very hard not to run away from her and hide in the corner.

“Care to join me for a few patients?” she asked, giving him a slight smile. The young man nodded jerkily again, a shy smile on his lips as the day began.

To say that the day turned into absolute chaos was an understatement. It was like the flow of incoming patients never stopped, one obscure case after the other, people that were incredibly rude, more rude than usual. The trauma cases were horrifying, people being cut in half, there was a forklift vs. worker case, multiple overdoses, among them a kid that had gotten into his parent’s med stash and eaten an ungodly amount of pills, though luckily they had been able to pump his stomach in time to prevent death. A young woman that had been stabbed by her boyfriend, a father of two that had saved his children from a car speeding towards them, but had not been able to save himself, there was more, it felt like tragedy didn’t stop.

When four o’clock rolled around she found Whittaker crying in the staff lounge. She had wanted to get some coffee to make sure she didn’t fall asleep standing at the end of the shift. A bad feeling settled in her stomach as she carefully approached him, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. Worry seeping into her stomach as she saw him looking at her with red, puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sniffling, whipping away his tears, looking mildly ashamed of crying as he looked at the coffee cup in her hand.

“No need to apologize, just tell me what you need,” she spoke softly, trying to help him somehow. She knew that it wasn’t easy, especially if a case hit close to home. The kind of cases that someone would try to forget, but in the end knew would haunt them forever. There were cases one forgot with time, but there were cases when you could wake up sweating in the middle of the night, five or six years later.

“I-” he paused, looking like he wanted to sink into the ground, “I think I just need someone to tell me that it gets easier, someone that is not Dr. Robby.” he hummed softly, fiddling with his fingers as the tears began to ebb away.

“It will,” she nodded slightly, “there will always be hard days and hard cases, but in the end it will get easier. You learn to deal with the pain, you learn to come to terms with it. You learn to live with it, to find balance.” she gently patted his shoulder.

“Dr. Robby said the same thing, but when I asked him he told me he hadn’t reached that point yet.” Whittaker looked like he was telling her some big secret.

At that she was not sure if she wanted to laugh or to cry. Robby had also told her the exact same thing when they had first met at the Pitt. He had given her and all the other newcomers the speech about the time he had lost a kid on his first day in Chicago. How when he had walked past the cemetery he thought that he needed to bury it. That was how she had first interacted with him properly, she had told him that it was bullshit and that people shouldn’t bury their feelings. That it wasn’t healthy for people to bury their feelings and that she thought he should go and see a therapist if he actually thought that burying your feelings was a good way of dealing with them.

“Yeah, but I can tell you kid, if you work through some of those feelings and put in the work of getting the uncomfortable emotions out of your system then things will start getting easier. Like I said, there will always be hard days, but everything will be easier at some point,” she smiled at him, patting his shoulder. Nodding slightly as she filled up her mug, putting some almond milk in her coffee before heading out of the breakroom, hoping that this day might finally come to an end.

It was only a few moments after she had put down her mug that Dana called out a hit and run patient coming in. She got ready to work on the trauma, trying to work as quickly as possible, nurses and residents running around to get the trauma room ready, her heart thundering in her chest as she jogged towards the ambulance bay, meeting the patient that was being wheeled in on a gurney.

Everyone worked in a practiced rhythm, Robby had come into the trauma bay while they were doing everything they could to get the bleeding under control, she was barking out orders, trying to get the young man stable as soon as possible. He started coding, she was the quickest to start compressions, while she worked she saw Robby taking over what she had been doing, his head hovering close to the man’s open break. While she did compressions she felt the chain around her neck slip out from underneath her scrubs, now dangling perfectly in Robby’s field of vision. The white gemstone set in the silver band glimmering softly in the fluorescent light of the trauma bay, bouncing while she continued compressions, though it seemed like Robby didn’t move after it had slipped out from underneath her scrubs, like his eyes were fixed on it, on the ring he had given her.

Then someone called his name, called him out on not moving anymore and he snapped out of it, continuing to work diligently like he always did.

After that incident the tension between her and Robby became palpable even to the people that didn’t know a thing about the fall out between them. About what had happened between them. Some of the residents gave her questioning looks, some of the newer nurses seemed to want to ask Princess and Perlah about it. The two, who would usually spread gossip at an insane rate, kept quiet about it, not saying much, either they brushed it off or kept it vague. Everyone that knew what happened between them would keep quiet about it, about the fall out, about the argument.

Shift change had come sooner than she expected, but it was not unwelcome, standing at the nurses station she finished putting something into a chart when the voice of Dana pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Robby went to the roof, I think the two of you should talk,” her voice was soft, but firm. It was not a suggestion, it was a command, it was something there would be no discussion about. She would want to hear what they said to each other tomorrow morning at the latest.

“Yeah,” she nodded heavily, feeling the lump in her throat growing. Slowly she made her way to the elevator, waiting for it to arrive on the highest floor felt like an eternity.

She remembered warm hands massaging the knots out of her shoulders while she laid on that ugly purple sofa she had bought off of facebook marketplace during college, the ugly purple sofa that held so many memories, the one that still stood in the bedroom of her new apartment. She remembered Robby placing soft kisses on her forehead, on her cheeks on her lips, pulling her close to him. She remembered how Robby would melt into her when they hugged, how they pressed so close together that she sometimes thought he was trying to become one with her.

The bing pulled her out of her thoughts, stepping out of the elevator she made her way towards the staircase, having to take the last flight of stairs to the roof on foot. A sigh left her lips as she thought about the day he had pulled out that little ring box, telling her that he thought that it would be grander when he proposed, though that it felt right to it now. It had been the day after her last board exam, the day she was free of the worry of exams. She knew she had aced the exam, there was little doubt in her mind about that. Robby had taken her out to eat dinner at their favourite place, then taken a walk around a lake. The sun had been setting and Robby had asked her to marry him. She still remembered that she had cried when he asked her. Told him that she would marry him, told him that she loved him dearly.

As she pushed open the door she saw Robby leaning against the railing, arms supporting his upper body as he looked over the city. Back slouched, head held high as he stared into the distance.

“Fuck off, Jack.” His voice was tight, “I already told you that I didn’t want to talk to you,” his voice was harsh, harsher than she would have expected it to be when he talked to his long time friend.

“Well, good thing I am not Jack,” she said softly. As her words reached him he straightened his back, turning around to look at her, he was moving so quickly that she thought that he might give himself whiplash, big brown eyes wide as he looked at her. The shock ebbed away slowly, turning into something softer, something that was a mix between fondness and debilitating sadness.

“It would be best for you to leave,” his voice was soft as he said that, but these words set off a burning rage inside of her, a rage she had suppressed for many years. Actually it was not true rage, it was sadness, it was a lack of understanding, she didn’t get it.

“You told me that before and I listened back then, I bowed to what you told me. But I think you should also remember what I told you,” her voice was harsh.

“Stop making decisions for me, Micheal,” he responded, his voice filled with regret, the sadness in his eyes taking over. She had not moved closer to him, her hands shaking beside her body.

“Yeah, that still fucking stands, stop making decisions for me, because the last one you made turned out to be pretty fucking bad,” her voice was shaking slightly. Robby averted his gaze like he was trying to keep himself from seeing the whole truth, the consequences of his own actions.

“You told me you wouldn’t leave, even if you wanted.” Robby sounded genuinely broken, “I felt like I trapped you,” his voice was soft as he spoke. These words brought back the night it had all happened like some kind of whiplash.

They had been out to dinner together, gotten back to their shared apartment, the ugly purple sofa she had refused to get rid of standing beside Robby’s in some way crowding the living room a bit. She had told him that during dinner, told him that she would always stay with him through thick and thin, making sure that they worked out. She had not meant ill by it, she had simply wanted to underline to him that she would never leave him behind. That night Robby had told her that he thought it would be best if she left Pittsburgh. Told her that it was best if they parted ways for good, that he would put in a good word at Big Charity Hospital in Chicago for her so that she could start her career. She had tried to argue with him, to beg him to not leave, but he had shut down completely.

He had packed her bags for her, while she had cried, her make up ruined, hands shaking while she called Dana, asking to crash on her couch that night. He had given her her duffle back, told her to tell Dana if she wanted to work at Big Charity, then he would make sure she got a position there.

“You fucking broke up with me three months before our wedding,” her voice was shaking, “You told me that you didn’t want me in your life anymore, Robby!” her voice was getting louder, she had never been angry at him, not really, she couldn’t bring herself to be. “You ripped out my heart, threw it on the ground, shattered it and then danced on the broken fucking pieces!”

For the first time since this conversation started Robby looked at her, those big, sad, brown eyes finding hers. He looked like he was about to start crying, like he was only now realising the full extent of what he had done.

“I thought I was doing you a favour…” his voice was soft, his eyes shimmering softly while the sun set beside him.

“You broke my heart, Robby,” she paused for a moment, looking to the side, “And acted like it didn’t affect you at all,” she whispered. Her voice breaking as a single, hot tear ran down her cheek.

“I thought I was doing you a favour,” he repeated himself. She took a deep breath, shaking her head.

“You made a decision that wasn’t yours to make, Robby,” she spoke softly, “Always assuming people only do things because they pity you, doing things because they feel obligated to it. I loved you,” she paused, “I loved you more than anything in this world. I would have given up my career within a beat if you asked me to, I would have built a home with you, a family, I would have worked weeks without taking days off for you, I would have moved mountains and crossed seas for you…” she trailed off for a moment, “And you know what the worst thing is?” she asked, not wanting an answer from him, “I still would do all these things,” she shook her head, “I never stopped loving you and maybe that is my worst fault,” she whispered softly.

Robby looked at her, tears running down his cheeks as he looked at her. His expression filled with pain as his head rolled to the side ever so slightly.

“That’s why you still wear the ring?” his voice cracked as he gestured towards her. A sniffle came from him.

“Yeah, because in my mind if I take off the ring I would let go of you and I can’t do that,” she shook her head, “You can call me stupid, you can call me delusional, but I always had the hope that maybe we could fix things, even if everyone told me to let go,” more tears began to roll down her face. “I never wanted to give up on you,” she whispered softly.

Robby remained fixed in his spot, back straight as he looked at her, the deep sadness in his eyes worse than before. It was like his mind was fighting a war, a war he was not sure he could win. Like his rational mind and his emotions were waging the final battle in a war that had been going on for too long.

As she stood there, looking at him, seeing how the setting sun illuminated him, she knew that this was the last chance they had. This was the last time they could try to fix that broken link between them. Robby opened his mouth, slowly, his eyes growing sadder for a moment, then he shook his head.

“If I told you you deserve someone that didn’t push you away you would yell at me to stop making decisions for you, right?” there was a hint of humour to his pained words, like he was trying to make this less painful.

“I would,” she let out a small laugh, feeling her heart thunder in her chest as she looked at him. Her eyes widened slightly as he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips.

“I missed you,” he spoke so softly, his voice cracking slightly as he did. Those simple words broke the dams, tears began running down her cheeks as she looked at Robby.

“I missed you too,” she whispered as she slowly stepped towards him. Robby met her half way, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in tightly, their bodies still fitting together as perfectly as they had five years ago. They stayed in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity, their breathing slowing down, the tears ebbing away. Robby was the first one to speak after what felt like ages of needed silence between them.

“Do you still have that ugly purple couch?” he asked softly, his cheek still resting against her head.

“Of course I do,” she muttered, “I could never get rid of Mildred,” she muttered into his shoulder, a soft laugh escaping her.

Maybe thing would turn out alright in the end, maybe she would still be able to get her happy end with the man she never stopped loving.

——————————

@ananonymusaffair @clubsoft @letsgobarbs

[darksparklesficrecs]

Babies Love Full Moons

Summary: Katherine and Robby welcome their baby and are reminded that they have family to help. Requested.

TW: Childbirth, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: This fic got away from me a bit, so it's a bit long. I'm a sucker for previously broken men getting their dream family. That man was meant to have babies and I'll take no arguments. Thank you. As always, no beta, edited by me and my tired eyes. The bottom gif is how I imagined him the entire fic, that stupid adoring face kills me. Sir, I need you to control those loving brown eyes before I have an MI.

It was a slow morning in the Robinavitch house. The two inhabitants, soon to be three, were moving at a leisurely pace, neither too concerned with time. Katherine was on maternity, she had nowhere to be anyway. Robby was prolonging the inevitable.

“But if you say you’re having contractions, I get to stay home.” He sipped his coffee, watching her face break into the kind of smile that made the world stop.

“It would also be a lie. Or manifesting. I don’t want to put bad luck on our heads.” She shook her head.

“Fine, fine.” He groaned as he leaned over and kissed her, Katherine reveling in his coffee breath as it was as close as she could get to drinking it.

“I promise to let you know if anything changes.  Abbot will have your ass if he has to pull a double for no reason.” She got up and padded to the fridge, pulling a lunchbox out and handing it to Robby.

“He’d survive, probably.” He took the lunchbox as he grabbed his keys.

“Try not to be too grumpy with everyone today. The interns don’t need to deal with all that.” She kissed his cheek.

“Kit, I promise to do my best, but they somehow know the exact buttons to push.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. But they have to learn to not be annoying. It’s part of the process.” She smiled, her hand absent mindedly rubbing up and down his bicep.

“Call me if anything change. I mean it,” He rested his hands on her shoulders, pushing the point further. “even if it’s a headache or just a general malaise. I want to know about it.” He made hard eye contact.

“I swear, anything happens besides a sneeze and you will know. Why are you so jumpy this morning?” Katherine crossed her arms.

“I want to know about the sneezes too,” Robby grabbed his airpods from the counter, “It sounds stupid, but it’s a full moon tonight and babies love being born on the full moon. And it’s a gut feeling.” He shrugged.

“Okay, I guess I can’t argue with crazy.” Kit chuckled.

“You married crazy.” He pulled her close, as close as possible, and kissed her.

“Dr. Robby, you can’t kiss a girl like that and leave.” She scolded.

“Oh, that is not fair.” He let out an exasperated laugh as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck.

“Go! You’re going to be late and then Abbot will send me angry texts all morning. I don’t want to deal with that.” She pushed him off her. Robby let out a loud groan as he left the house.

The Pitt was having a relatively quiet day, though no one would say those exact words. They were all just enjoying the peace. Robby had to break up a few people from gossiping in corners, the downtime poisoning their efficiency just a bit. He couldn’t be too mad, though; they never had days like this.

“When’s your paternity start?” Dana asked from her computer.

“I have been told by the boss that it starts when contractions start.” Robby sighed, his glasses sitting low on his nose.

“Gloria said that?” Dana looked up at him, shocked.

“Nope. Kit. She doesn’t want me bothering her. Thinks I’ll go stir crazy.” He said as he typed up his charts.

“Smart woman.” Dana laughed.

“I tried to get her to let me start today, but she’s too fucking virtuous. Doesn’t want to put bad luck on us and all that shit.”

“She’s trying to keep you an honest man. Tough job.” Dana jotted down notes on her tablet.

“I told her babies love being born during full moons and tonight is a full moon, but she didn’t take the bait.”  Robby scratched at the back of his neck.

“It’s a fair point. But have you stopped to think, maybe she’s trying to enjoy her last moments of autonomy?” Dana raised her eyebrows at him.

“What?” Robby pulled his glasses off.

“Think about it. Once this baby is born, there will be a person attached to her all day, every day for the foreseeable future. She will be someone’s mom before anything else. Maybe she wants to revel in still being somewhat her own person. That’s why she wants you out of the house.” Dana leaned back in her chair.

“I guess I never thought about it like that.” Robby crossed his arms, brows knitted together as he took in the information.

“Just make sure she knows, you’re going to give her space once the baby is born. Remind her that she’ll be your wife too, not just mom.” Dana gave a empathetic smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” Robby nodded.

“Um, Dr. Robby I need some help with a case in bay 4. I-I can’t get the discharge to stop.” Whitacker came running up, gloved hands held high in the air.

“let’s start by not leaving the patient with discharge seeping out of them, pressure dressing now. Go.” Robby sighed.

“Go easy, Cap. Shifts almost over. You can handle one more hour.” Dana laughed.

Robby was practically vibrating in his seat with anticipation. He was so ready to run home. The sight of Jack Abbot rolling in for his shift had him jumping up and ready to rattle off the cases.

“I don’t like you this excited, it’s like seeing a dog walk on two legs. Not natural.” Jack said as he dumped his pack at the hub.

“Give the guy a break, let him be excited for once.” Dana chuckled.

“If you two are finished, I’d like to get home to my wife.” Robby’s voice laced with snark.

“Why? Not like you’re getting any this late in the game.” Jack laughed.

“What is wrong with you?” Dana shook her head.

“Easy night, one boarding in psych, three food poisoning, four flu, one head trauma that is waiting on repeat CT and an anaphylaxis case that is here for observation.” Robby rattled off.

“Any trouble with the anaphylaxis?” Jack looked over the chart on his tablet.

“No, gave her the Benadryl and steroids and she started clearing up. No need for-” Robby’s phone buzzed in his pocket, a message from Kit.

Kit: Hey, I know you’re probably getting off. I just wanted to let you know, feeling a bit crampy. Could be nothing. Who knows. Pick up Pizza or don’t come home.

“Robby, all good?” Abbot’s voice snapped Robby back.

“Yeah. Yeah, pizza with a threat of violence. You need anything else?” Robby asked. Jack laughed and shook his head.

“Nope, you get your pizza before we never see you again. Full moon tonight.” Jack cocked his eyebrow.

“Oh I am very aware.” Robby sighed.

“Good luck, Brother. Call if you’re not coming in tomorrow. I’ll make Shen stay.” Abbot walked off as Robby grabbed his things and made for the exit.

Robby: Don’t get my hopes up. Keep an eye on it. Getting off now, will grab pizza per previous threat.

Robby didn’t actually realize how hungry he was until the hot pizza filled the car with it’s delicious aroma. If he wasn’t afraid of losing life or limb, he would have eaten a slice on the drive.

Kit: May be more than cramps. You’ll know when it’s a threat, Big Guy. :P

Robby felt his body tense a little and his footstep a little harder on the gas. He may have pulled into the driveway a little harder than usual, his breaks squealing in protest. He took a second to breathe before grabbing the pizza and going into the house.

“I made sure there was an obscene amount of mushrooms on it.” He called as he kicked his shoes off and walked into the kitchen, expecting to see Kit. When he wasn’t greeted by anyone, not even the dog, he started to get a little worried.

“Kit? Kitty?” He called into the house. He was met with a groan from the bedroom. He took off like a light toward the sounds. He found Katherine standing leaning on the dresser, her head hung low and doing her best to take deep breaths. The dog sat at her feet with a concerned look on his face and small whine as he watched over her.

“Not cramps.” She sighed.

“No, I can see that.” Robby walked over a smile on his face as he rubbed her back and kissed her shoulder.

“Pizza?” Kit asked as she lifted her, the contraction ebbing away. She wrapped her arms around Robby’s neck.

“In the kitchen. How long?” Robby’s brown, puppy dog eyes made Katherine’s stomach flip, the kindness in them took her breath away.

“Started around 2pm I think. Not anything bad so I ignored them. They got harder to ignore around 7pm. I promise, I thought it was nothing.” She said as she walked past him, heading straight for the pizza, the dog hot on her heels.

“I believe you.” He laughed as he watched her shove a slice in her face like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Robinavitch: You’re never going to guess what’s happening tonight.

“There like 15 minutes apart, I don’t think we’re going anywhere soon.” She said through a mouthful of food.

“You never know. But probably. You need to keep your fluids up too.” He said, raising his eyebrows.

Abbot: Babies love full moons, I’ll let Shen and Gloria know.

Abbot: Good luck. Take good care of her.

Abbot: Call if you need ANYTHING.

“Aren’t you Mister Popular?” Kit laughed as she moved to the couch with the pizza box.

“Just Abbot. Need to make sure they know I’m on paternity leave officially.”  Robby fell next to her with a sigh.

“He’s so nosy. He acts like he doesn’t care, but I can tell he’s just as excited as everyone else.” Kit laughed as she flipped through the channels.

“He’s got a reputation to uphold.” Robby rubbed his hand up and down her thigh.

Robby: Just a heads up, won’t be in for the next eight weeks.

“Did you put the car seat in? I feel like I remember you putting it in but I can’t really remember, ya know?” Kit asked as she settled on Bob’s Burgers.

“Put it in three days ago. Bags are packed and by the door. We are as prepared as anyone can be.” Robby smiled as he massaged the back of Kit’s neck.

Dana: Yay! Let me know when Baby Robinavitch arrives! I’m bringing food for you two. It takes a village an all that shit.

“We shouldn’t name the baby Tina, right?” Kit asked, her hand absent-mindedly rubbing her belly.

“You’ve suggested worse.” Robby chuckled as he grabbed a slice of pizza.

“We’ll know when we see them.” Kit nodded, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Robby watched her carefully, noticing the change in energy from this morning.

“Dana said she’s bringing food over once the baby is here.” He noted.

“Oh that’s nice. We forgot to get food for us ready.” Kit snorted.

“Yeah, well, easier to feed ourselves with all the delivery stuff.” He shrugged.  Kit nodded, her hands holding her belly as she took in a sharp breath.

“Do you want me to talk you through it or should I be quiet?” Robby asked as he rubbed a hard circle at the base of her spine, trying to comfort her.

“Talk, please.” She said through gritted teeth. Robby sat up a little straighter.

“Deep, even breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth, you’re doing great.” He told her as he kissed her shoulder.

“This kind of sucks.” Kit sighed as she fell back into the couch, her head falling all the way back.

“I know. I’m sorry. Do you want the ball? I got it ready the other day.” Robby asked, one had tracing patterns on her arm while the other caressed her belly.

“Not right now, but probably soon. My energy is getting too wired.” She shrugged.

“Let me know what you need and I will make it happen.” He smiled down at her.

“I know you will, Big Guy.” She cupped his face with her hand, rubbing a thumb across his cheek bones.

“I can’t believe it’ll be three of us this time tomorrow.” He said, the air feeling heavy in his lungs as his eyes became glassy.

“I know. The house won’t be quiet anymore. It’s kind of scary.” Kit shifted to sit up.

“We’ll be okay. We always figure it out.” He kissed her cheek.

“I called my mom today.” Kit cleared her throat. Robby sat back, searching her face for any emotion, any clue as to what she was feeling.

“Yeah? How’d that go?” He knew she had never had an easy relationship with her family, particularly her mother. But she found herself wanting to try and include them in their life as the baby grew near.

“Well, she asked if you had stuck around to the end. I told her of course you did, we’re married and everything. She asked if I wanted her here.” Kit sighed.

“What’d you say?”

“I asked if she wanted to be with us. She said it wasn’t a good time and she didn’t want to be underfoot while we figured out how to keep our lives together.” Kit shook her head.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Robby could throttle that damn woman for how she treated his wife.

“She went on to say that with the baby being yours, it would probably be born with some mental health issues. To which I told her to shut her damn mouth and show some respect to my husband. She shouted about how ungrateful I was and my kid was going to be a brat with no future, just like me.” Kit rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“You’re so much better than them. I know you wanted this baby to help change things, but maybe it’s for the best.” He pulled her to his chest.

“I wanted my mommy.” Kit said, starting to cry.

“I know.” Robby sighed, doing his bests to hold her together. “Nothing can replace your mom, but we can always have Dana come over if you need that feminine energy.” He said.

“That’s asking too much.” Kit shook her head and sat up, trying to keep from falling apart further.

“No way. Dana would love to be here, are you kidding? She’s been berating me for updates every shift! She’s family, she’d drop everything for you.” Robby dropped his head, forcing Kit to keep eye contact.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I’m just going to check the nursery one more time.” She changed the subject and made for the nursery. Robby didn’t push it. He pulled out his phone again and dialed Dana’s number.

“Cap? What’s going on? Everything okay?” Dana’s voice was quick and concerned.

“Everything’s fine, no fire, calm down.” Robby laughed.

“Jesus, I wasn’t expecting you to call! You never call! I thought something was wrong.” She let out an exasperated sigh.

“I know, I’m sorry. I needed to run some info by you. Are you busy?” Robby looked down the hall to make sure his wife was still out of earshot.

“Not busy. At least not for you guys tonight. What’s up?”

“Kit called her mom today.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Needless to say, it didn’t go great. I think she’s really feeling that hole right now. I told her you’d come be with her if she wanted a woman’s presence. She thinks she’s asking too much.” Robby ran a hand down his face, unsure if he was doing the right thing.

“Of course that’s not too much! I’d do anything for that girl. The way she takes care of everyone else but thinks it’s too much for us to do the same. If I ever see that mother of hers, it will be bloody.” Dana snorted.

“Maybe you can swing by under the guise of dropping off something, I don’t know. I can see her starting to break and this is the worst time for it.” Robby sighed.

“Yeah, course. I was just getting the lasagna out of the oven for youse anyway. I’ll be by in a bit.” Dana said before hanging up.

Robby walked into the nursery and saw Kit going through the drawers and looking over all the onesies. Her hands gliding over the soft fabric, admiring the colors, reveling in the fact that they would be worn soon.

“You’re hovering.” Kit didn’t look up, just smiled.

“I can’t help it. Instinct. I know you’re in labor and I can’t stop the primal man brain from worrying.” Robby shrugged.

“You should shower. Who knows when you’ll get to next.” She noted.

“I’ll get to it. I’m making sure you’re okay.” He cocked his head, watching as she closed the drawer and turned to face him. She had been crying again; he could see the redness in her eyes.

“What if…what if I turn into her?” Her voice cracking. Robby took in a sharp breath as if the words had punched him in the chest.

“My love, I can assure you that you will not be like her.” He said as he moved to stand in front of her, cupping her face in his hands.

“What if it’s genetic and I can’t escape it?” She couldn’t look up.

“Kitty, I have seen how hard you care. I have seen you take care of every person that you come across, strangers on the street sometimes! You have more compassion and kindness in one eyelash than that woman has in her whole body.” He tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Sometimes, I feel myself get angry and it scares me. I don’t want to be like them.”

“I know. But being angry sometimes doesn’t mean you are. It’s okay to be angry, it’s what you do with it that makes the difference. I’ve never seen you take your anger out on anyone, I wish you’d stop taking it out on yourself.” He smiled down at her.

“I love you.” She reached up and kissed him.

“I love you too.” He caressed her back.

Kit took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around Robby’s neck and burying her face in the crook of it, moaning as the pain took over.

“You’re doing great, love. Good breaths.” He said as he put counter-pressure on her hips. She moaned into his neck, he felt the tears hit his skin. The doorbell went off and the dog started barking.

“who’s that?” Kit groaned.

“Don’t worry about it, you just focus on breathing.” He told her. He held her until the contraction passed.

“I thought everyone knew what was happening.” Kit breathed, the dog still barking.

“They do.” Robby went to get the door. “Hawkey! Stop!” He scolded the dog. He opened the door for Dana, hands full of more food than he was expecting.

“Hey Robinavtich family! I come with the gift of carbs!” She smiled as she let herself in.

“Dana? I thought you were coming tomorrow?” Kit asked, shooting Robby a killer look. Robby put his hands in the air in surrender.

“I got too antsy waiting at home. Thought you might want some company from someone who's done this before.” She went over and pulled Kit into a tight hug.  “This one let slip that you might need a woman around.” She nodded her head to Robby.

“That was very presumptuous of him.” Kit snapped.

“Aw, he’s just looking out for you, kid.” She chuckled. “Besides, isn’t it better to have another pair of hands when things get crazy?”

“You have a family to take care of, too.” Kit shook her head.

“They’ll keep. My husband is more than capable of keeping one teenager in line for a while. As much as anyone can. But if you really want me to go, I won’t force ya.”

“Well, you’re already here.” Kit shrugged.

“Thought so.” Dana wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her to the couch. Robby followed, getting the dog and putting him on his bed.

“I’m here for moral support. I’ll let the big guy do all the coaching and such. You just yell for what you need and I’ll get it.” Dana smiled.

“Well, since you’re here now, Robby can go shower.” Kit winked at him.

“That sounds like a great idea. Cap?”

“I don’t smell that bad.” Robby shook his head.

“Ya know, I used to think that too. But since I haven’t been in the hospital for a while, there is a smell. Antiseptic, metallic. Maybe it’s the pregnancy making me pick up on it.” Kit laughed.

“Okay, okay! I surrender. I’ll shower. Yell, if you need me. I mean it.” He pointed at both women.

“We’ll be fine.” Dana waved him off. “So, how far into the panic have ya got?” Dana turned to face Kit.

“I-uh, what?”

“Oh sweetie. Everyone panics. They all say it’s something to do with adrenaline and hormones, but it’s more than that. We were raised by our parents and it’s every new parents worst fear that they’ll turn into them. Honestly, most don’t, but it’s a real fear until you get into the groove of it.” Dana said.

“I’m so fucking scared I’ll be like her. I’d never forgive myself.” Kit felt her hands start to shake.

“Honey, I met that woman once and I can say with my whole chest that you are nothing like her. I’ve seen a lot people have babies that had no right to be parents and you and Robby are two of the few people I truly believe should be.” Dana smiled.

“Thank you I-” Kit was cut off as the pain crashed over her.

“Easy, you got it.” Dana consoled.

Robby hadn’t showered faster in his life. He felt like the second he stepped into the water, something was going to go wrong. The fact that he couldn’t keep his eyes on Kit made his anxiety rise like his blood pressure. He threw on his sweats and a t-shirt and was about to go back out when something made him stop. God, he hoped he didn’t fuck this up like his dad.

“Hey, everything okay?” He smiled as he came back out.

“Yeah, I’m an emergency room charge nurse with over 20 years under my belt. I think I can handle a healthy woman in labor, Cap.” Dana laughed, her glasses on the end of her nose as she braided Kit’s hair.

“Wow, I forgot how snarky you get off the clock.” Robby quipped.

“You’re not the boss here.” She smiled.

“Baby, can you get the yoga ball? My hips are getting tight, starting to bother me.” Katherine sighed.

“Course, I’ll get you a Gatorade too.” He kissed her cheek and left the room.

“Such service. I need me one of them.” Dana laughed.

“I can’t complain. Though he does leave his underwear on the floor next to the hamper. But I’ll train him out of it one day.” Kit chuckled.

“Let me know how you do it, mine still does it.” Dana patted her shoulder. “All done, sweetheart.”

“Thanks for doing that. It’s harder to reach behind myself these days.”

“I’m not as good as you, but it’ll hold.” Dana smiled.

“Oh, I never braid my hair.”

“But, you’re always coming in with perfect braids. Straight out of a YouTube tutorial.” Dana looked at her, confused.

“That would be me.” Robby came back in, winking at Dana.

“You’re shitting me.” She scoffed.

“Nope. I braid her hair most mornings.” He said, handing the Gatorade to Kit.

“Why?”

“Because she asks.” He shrugs. “And it’s good for dexterity, keeps my hands from getting too stiff.” He helped Kit get on the giant yoga ball, keeping her steady while she got comfortable.

“You are full of surprises, Robinavitch.” Dana got up and went to the kitchen.

“You feeling okay?” Robby knelt next to Kit, rubbing her back.

“Yeah, tired. The contractions are getting longer, which I know is a good thing but sucks. I’m anxious to be over with this but at the same time I don’t feel ready. But how does anyone feel ready for this and my body is on fire and I’m nauseous and hungry all at the same time. I want to scream but also cry and also neither. So, ya know, fine.” Kit muttered out in one breath. Robby stared at her for a long moment, unsure where to start.

“Well, that’s all normal.”

“I know that’s normal, I’m doctor too Michael.” Kit snapped.

“Yep, nope, sorry. Wrong thing to say.” Robby rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh my god, what was that? I don’t do that! Why am I acting like this?” Kit’s hands flew to cover her mouth in shock.

“Hey, it’s okay. Honey, you’re body and mind are going through war right now. I’m not taking offense to anything. Okay? If you need to snap and yell at me to get through this, then I can take it.” He massaged her thigh.

“I don’t want to be those women who bite their husbands' heads off. I want to be rational and normal!” Kit threw her hands in the air.

“Honey, rational and normal don’t exist when you’re going through labor.” Dana came over and put a plate of watermelon in front of her. “Eat, it’s good for nausea.” She nodded as she disappeared again.

“She’s right.” Robby smiled.

“Ugh! I hate this- Oh my god…” Her voice trailed off into a low moan as she grabbed onto Robby’s shoulders.

“You’re doing so good, Kit.” He said, her groans getting louder, tears falling down her face. Robby reached up to wipe them from her face when he heard a low growl from next to him.

“Haweye! Out!” Kit snapped. The dog didn’t move.

“My fucking dog and he’s going to bite me for you. If that isn’t fucked up I don’t know what is.” Robby chuckled.

“Fuck! Michael!” Kit yelled, the pain overwhelming her.

“You’re okay, I’m right here.” He told her, putting pressure on her hips. “Follow my breaths.” He said as he put her hand on his chest and started breathing slowly. Hawkeye started growling more.

“Buddy, I need you to not do this right now.” Robby tried to reason with the dog.

“He always liked me better.” Kit sighed as the contraction ended.

“Everyone likes you better.” He smiled, kissing her hand.

“What should I do with him?” Dana asked.

“I’m going to take him to the neighbor. She’s a vet, said they’d watch him for us. We knew this was a possibility.” Robby sighed as he gathered some of the dog’s things. “I’ll be right back.” He said as he grabbed Hawkeye and ran out the door.

��What do you need, hun?” Dana rubbed circles on her back.

“This to be over.” Kit cried.

“I know sweetheart. Soon. You’re already up to eleven minutes apart.” She informed her. Robby came sprinting back into the house out of breath.

“Rachel says hi.” Robby cleared his throat as he came back over.

“I’m sorry he growled at you.” Kit’s voice cracked as she lolled her head back and forth, stretching her neck muscles.

“He’s doing his job. Keeping you safe, he thought I was doing it.” He stood behind her and started kneading her neck muscles.

Robby did his best to be present and not worry about what was to come. He did everything that Katherine asked of him: Knead the muscles of her back, counter pressure to her hips, not touch her, not stop touching her, wipe the sweat off her forehead, dance through the contractions with her. If she needed it, he did it. Dana ran around them making sure anything needed was in arms reach and offering encouragement the one time Robby went to the bathroom.

“Good, Kit. Nice deep breaths, keep control of your breathing.” Robby was holding her up as she draped herself on top of him, swaying them back and forth.

“Ugh, it won’t end!” Kit cried, her grip on the back of Robby’s shirt tightened, her knuckles going white.

“It will, Honey. Getting longer means you’re closer. Blow the exhale out, focus on controlling the breaths.” He said, looking over to Dana and mouthing How far apart? To which she replied 9 minutes. Robby’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s getting so hard.” Kit tried to catch her breath as the contraction ebbed away.

“Kitty, you’re at 9 minutes apart. The plan was to head in around 10 minutes.” Robby tucked a loose strand behind her ear.

“I wanted to wait until my water broke, I don’t want to be there longer than I have to.” She sighed.

“We can wait a bit longer if you want. I’ll have to pull the doctor/husband card here and say no later than six minutes.” Robby warned her.

“No, let’s just go now. I just had a flash of you delivering the baby on the side of the road and it freaked me out.” Kit sighed.

“Yeah, best to avoid giving birth in the backseat.” Dana smiled.

“Will you stay with her while I get everything in the car?” Robby asked, running off before getting his answer.

“You’re going to start seeing panicked Robby. Enjoy it, pretty funny.” Dana laughed as she held onto Kit.

“Why does he run like that?” They watched Robby grabbing bags and running in and out of the house.

“Gotta be something wrong with his knees.” Dana shrugged.

“You don’t have to come with us. It’s gonna be a horror movie from here out.” Kit laughed.

“If you want your privacy, I’ll respect that. But if you do actually want me there and you don’t say, well, I’ll be upset then.” Dana smiled.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such a beautiful friend.” Kit wiped the stray tears from her face.

“Oh don’t get soft on me kid.” Dana chuckled, trying to hide her glassy eyes.

“I think we’ll want our privacy though. I’m not keen on that many people having that image of my vagina in their heads.” Kit laughed.

“Okay, I’ll make sure this place is ready for ya. You call me the second you’re ready for visitors. I expect to be the first one.” She scolded.

“I p-promise, oh fuck…” Kit groaned hanging onto Dana.

“You’re doing great, you hang onto me if you need.” Dana kept her on her feet.

“So much fucking pressure!” She yelled. Robby was running back inside when Kit cried out.

“What? What happened!?” He came barreling around the corner.

“My fucking water broke on Dana’s shoes!” Kit’s face was beet red.

“Honey, these shoes have seen much worse. Let’s get you cleaned up and in the car. Okay?” Dana guided her to the closet seat.

“Fuck, Michael.” Kit looked up at him dazed.

“Yeah.” He gave a breathy chuckle as he brought the baby wipes over and cleaned up her legs.

“This is actually happening.” Kit shook her head in disbelief.

“Hey. We’ve got this. Okay? I promise.” He held her face in his hand.

“Alright love birds, let’s get you in the car. I’ll clean this up, don’t worry about it.” Dana said, her nurse voice coming out of nowhere.

“Remind me to never be one of your patients.” Robby chuckled.

“My patient satisfaction scores are great.” Dana scoffed as she helped him walk Kit to the car.

“Thank you, seriously.” Robby pulled her into a quick hug.

“It’s what we do. You take care of her, I want pictures the second you two stop crying.” She smiled and waved them off.

“Do you want the playlist on?” Robby asked as he fiddled with the radio.

“don’t care.” Kit huffed.

“You okay?” Robby’s head snapped to look at her.

“There’s no buffer now. It’s sharper.” Kit groaned, clinging onto Robby’s bicep.

“We’ll be there in five minutes.” He told her, letting her dig her nails into his skin.

They arrived at the front entrance of the hospital, the valet taking care of the car. At least Gloria let them use the valet, not that they had any other good benefits, Robby thought. They were settled into a private room with Kit gowned up and hooked to the monitors.

“You want your robe? You’re shivering.” Robby noted.

“It’s cold in here.” Kit nodded. Robby grabbed the fluffy pink robe from one of the bags and wrapped her up.

“I put your electrolytes in the water bottle.” Robby handed her the bottle.

“Thank you. Do you need anything?” She looked up at him with her big doe eyes and his whole soul melted.

“How are you asking me that right now? Honey, I’m fine. Today is about what you need. You don’t need to be worried about me.” He kissed her, dumbfounded at how she chose him.

“I always want to take care of you.” She sighed.

The closer it got to the baby being born, the more nervous Robby got. He was doing his best to downplay it and focus on Katherine. He was pretty sure that she could tell anyway.

“You’re doing great! Kit, you’ve got this!” Robby held her hand as she yelled through another contraction.

“Oh fuck, Michael!” Kit’s eyes went wide.

“Baby, what is it? What’s going on?” Robby brushed the hair from her face, trying to get her to focus.

“I-I think I’m pushing. I didn’t mean…yeah, get the OB. Now!” Kit barked. Robby slammed the call button.

“It’s okay, listen to your body. If you have to push, go for it.” He said, waiting for anyone to answer the call.

“Dr. Robinavitch, how can-”

“Get Dr. Smith, she’s pushing.” Robby snapped at the nurse's laissez-faire attitude. The nurse nodded and ran off. Robby ran over to the wall, grabbing some gloves and running back.

“Is this too fast? I can’t fucking tell anymore!” Kit groaned.

“Nope, not too fast. Good vitals, everything is going great. Kit, I’m going to check how close you are.” Robby said.

“Don’t use your doctor voice on me, I hate it!” Kit cried, gripping the guard rails.

“Kitty, you’re doing great. I can feel the head, okay. When you have a contraction, chin to your chest and push.” Robby said.

“Dr. Robinavitch, I didn’t think you wanted to do the delivery.” Dr. Smith smiled as she walked in followed by three nurses bringing in supplies.

“I don’t! Thank fuck! I got nervous for a second there, Smith.” Robby sighed as he took his gloves off and moved to hold Kit’s hand.

“Well, Katherine, you’re baby is eager to get here. Let’s get you propped up.” Dr. Smith said as she put her gown on. One of the nurses moved to prop the head of the bed up.

“Thank God it’s almost over!” Kit groaned. She latched onto Robby’s hand as she started pushing again.

“You’re doing great, Kit. Keep going, good! Okay, rest!” Robby cheered her on.

“I’m never doing this again!” Kit yelled.

“Never, I swear.” Robby chuckled as he kissed her temple.

“Try and hold that push for ten seconds.” Dr. Smith said as she settled between Katherine’s legs.

“You want to do this!?” Kit barked. Everyone laughed.

“Oh, I have three kids. I’ve done this plenty. That’s how I know you can do this too, Katherine.” Dr. Smith’s kind eyes smiled, her mask obscuring her face.

“Michael!” Katherine yelled, overwhelmed and unsure of herself, seeking something to ground her.

“I’m here, I’m right here. Not going anywhere. Deep breath, push!” Robby held onto her hand, the other supporting her neck as she pushed.

“…6,7,8,9,10! Relax, breathe!” Robby wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“You’re nearly there Katherine. I know it’s a lot, but baby is almost at a full crown.” Dr. Smith adjusted the light.

“You’re almost there, honey.” Robby kissed her cheek. Katherine nodded, looking up at him and breaking his heart.

“Nice, big push for me Katherine.” Dr. Smith instructed and Katherine begrudgingly complied. She screamed as Robby did his best to comfort her. He hated how helpless he felt. He wasn’t used to being on the sidelines. When people hurt, he helped. He couldn’t do anything but offer words. It was eating him alive.

“Alright, next push and baby will be here!” Dr. Smith announced.

“You’re such a fucking superstar.” Robby kissed Katherine’s head.

“Fuck!” Katherine screamed as she pushed again. Robby cheered her on as he looked over the drapes on her legs to see the baby slide into Dr. Smith’s hands. His heart stopped at the sight. He looked up at Katherine who had wide eyes, tears falling silently down her cheeks.

“You’re amazing, you’re so fucking amazing!” He smiled, kissing her face all over.

“Michael…” Kit looked off at the warmer.

“Everything okay, Dr. Smith?” Robby’s voice cracked.

“They aren’t crying. Why aren’t they crying!?” Kit yelled.

“Give them some time, it can take a second.” One of the nurses who was cleaning Kit up told them.

“Dr. Smith!” Robby barked.

“Robby, I’m working!” She snapped.

“Michael.” Kit sobbed. Robby wrapped her up in his arms.

“It’s okay, they’ll be okay.” He told her and himself. The next fifteen seconds felt like hours. The room was suddenly filled with a harsh cry, sending both Robby and Kit into hysterical sobs.

“She was being as stubborn as her father, it seems.” Dr. Smith smiled as she brought the baby over and laid her on Kit’s chest.

“Sorry.” Robby said, not looking up from the baby.

“No apology needed. You have a healthy little girl. Congratulations.” She smiled.

“Oh my god.” Kit’s voice barely audible.

“She’s perfect. She looks like you.” Robby sobbed.

“Don’t scare us like that again, little one.” Kit scolded the baby, a smile plastered across her face.

“Do you two have a name?” One of the nurses asked.

“She needs strong women to look up to. I think it should be after your grandmother.” Kit looked up at Robby. As if his heart wasn’t already aching with love, it still found more room.

“Abigail?” His voice cracked.

“Abigail Robinavitch.” Kit played with the sounds.

“What about a middle name?” the nurse asked.

“The only woman that’s ever taken care of me is Dana.” Kit’s voice cracked.

“Abigail Dana Robinavitch. It’s perfect. She’s going to lose it when she finds out.” Robby laughed.

“What a perfect little name for a perfect little girl.” Kit sang to the baby.

They all stayed like that in a perfect little world for an hour before, Katherine couldn’t stay awake any longer. The baby was taken to the nursery for sleep. Robby dozed off here and there, but kept waking up to check on Kit. He knew the nursery nurses and he hadn’t met one that didn’t keep the closest eye on every patient. They often scared him. He worried, but knew it was instinct and not needed. Kit, he knew he had to watch. He’d seen the statistics of mothers dying because no one listened.

When breakfast rolled around, the tray of cafeteria food made Katherine cry. Robby was sent to get McDonald's. He decided to walk through the ER, he wanted to show off a little.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Abbot perked up seeing Robby.

“Dr. Robby! How’s Dr. R?” Mel came rushing over.

“Everyone is good, healthy, and getting rest.” He announced to the small group gathering.

“Do you have pictures?” Princess begged.

“Yep, do not drop my phone.” He warned as he handed it over to them.

“What’s her name?” Javadi asked.

“Abigail.” He smiled. Jack wrapped him in a rough hug, patting his back.

“You did good, man. She's doing okay?”

“Yeah. Man, she was a star. I don’t know how I got this fucking lucky.” Robby sighed.

“Neither do I.” Abbot chuckled.

“Alright, phone, please. If I don’t deliver breakfast hot, I fear I will lose a limb.” Robby took the phone back.

“When can we come say hi?” Perlah asked.

“Later. They both need rechecks and Dana called first dibs.” Robby smiled, seeing how excited everyone was. It was a nice reminder of how big their family was.

“Your Mcgriddle and hashbrowns, my love.” Robby handed the bag to Kit who immediately started devouring the food.

“If I wasn’t so sore, I’d take you right now.” She smiled.

“Wow, that’s dedication.” Robby chuckled.

“Dana is on her way. How was downstairs?” Kit asked.

“They were very excited to see pictures. Asked when they could come up. We’ll have to figure out rotations.” Robby sat next to her.

Jack Rabbit: Good job, KitKat. I’ll be up before I leave.

“What a softy.” Kit laughed her phone.

“Jack?” Robby asked, Kit nodded. “Only for you.” He laughed. There was a knock at the door as the nurse rolled the crib into the room. Robby jumped up and grabbed the baby.

“I may want to hold her at some point, just saying.” Kit chuckled.

“Naw, she’s mine now. You had her for nine months. We’ve got time to catch up on.” Robby gave a curt nod.

“I can’t move without searing pain, so I won’t fight you yet.” She threatened.

“I think I can take you.” He said as he bounced the baby. 

"She's got your eyes, Michael." Kit smiled, watching her man swaying with her baby in his arms. "They'll be those big, brown doe eyes before we know it."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Only because I could never say no to those eyes. Those eyes got us in this mess." Kit let out a contented sigh. Robby gave her a soft smile.

There was a knock at the door and Dana’s head poked in.

“Everyone decent?” She asked.

“Yes, all bits are covered,” Kit said. Dana came barreling in and wrapped her up in a tight hug.

“I was more worried about him.” She chuckled. “I heard you were a superstar. Knew you would be.” She smiled.

“I’m always an A+ student.” Kit laughed.

“Alright, let me see that baby.” Dana smiled as she got up and went over to Robby.

“Careful, he’s barely let me hold her.” Kit winked at him. Robby scoffed as he handed the baby to Dana.

“Oh wow, yeah, that’s a good baby.” Dana laughed. “She’s beautiful. You two did good.” She smiled. Robby sat next to Kit, wrapping his arm around her. “Her name is Abigail.” Robby said.

“Abigail Robinavitch. You are going to do great things.” Dana hummed to the baby.

“Abigail Dana Robinavitch, actually.” Kit smiled. Dana stopped and looked up at them with glassy eyes.

“We wanted her to have strong women to look up to.” Robby said, his voice giving his emotion away.

“Well, isn’t that something?” Dana’s voice shook. “I know she’ll do us all proud.” Dana smiled. “Come take your baby before I cry all over it.” Dana laughed as Robby jumped up and grabbed the baby, putting her back in the crib.

“Room for one more?” Jack barged his way in.

“Not even a knock? I could have had a tit out.” Kit threw her hands in the air.

“I’ve seen worse.” He snorted. “I wanted to stop by before I went home to pass out.” He said, going to give Kit a kiss on the cheek.

“Well, since you’re both here, no more convenient time to tell you that you’re the godparents.” Robby said.

“How unceremonious.” Kit shot Robby a look.

“I hate ceremony.” Jack snorted.

“You’re supposed to say that you're honored and things like that.” Dana elbowed him.

“You cried on the baby, didn’t you?” Jack laughed. “Of course, I’m honored. I expected it, but I’m happy to do it.” He said, patting Robby on the back.

“I didn’t cry on the baby.” Dana muttered.

“Oh thank god she looks like KitKat. I was worried.” Jack said.

“Easy.” Robby warned.

“She’s damn near perfect. Smith said she made you two panic when she was born.” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you talking to my OB?”

“We ran into each other on the elevator. Longest 20 seconds of your life or what?”

“She’s already got the Robinavitch stubbornness.” Kit rolled her eyes.

“She’ll fit right in.” Jack said as he picked her up, the baby fussed before settling quickly in his arms.

“How did you do that?” Dana asked, looking dumbfounded.

“Babies love me. I have a general calm and steadfast demeanor that they respond to.” Jack said as he bounced with the baby. “We’re gonna cause so much chaos together, right, Abby? Yeah, you already got that look in your eye.” Jack nodded to the baby.

“You can’t start teaching her tactical airway until ten at least.” Kit chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Your mom doesn’t need to know about our shenanigans.” He smiled at her. They all watched in awe. Jack never really let himself be soft around anyone. This little girl was already melting him.

“She’s already smarter than most of management.” Dana chuckled as she walked over and peered over Jack’s shoulder.

“Like that’s hard.” Jack snorted, running a hand over Abigail’s soft hair. “She’s already smiling.”

“That is not possible.” Dana scoffed.

“No, she is. She already knows good comedy when she hears it.” Jack smirked.

“Or she needs a diaper change.” Dana laughed.

“Two things can be right at the same time.” Jack huffed.

Kit and Robby finally felt at ease, all the anxiety washing away. Seeing that they wouldn’t have to do this alone, they had family to help. They would be okay.

[darksparklesficrecs]

Chance Encounters

Content: Jack Abbot X F!Reader, use of She/Her pronouns, Jack Abbot x Shy!reader, (20's reader & Late 40's Jack), Smut, Thigh riding, handjobs, spit, Grinding, Mentions of Abbot's Prosthesis, Bars, Drinking, and rusty writing. A/N: One day I will emerge from a smut scene victorious, today may not be that day but I put some good reps in. I'm open to writing for anyone in the Pitt tbh so let me know who/what you'd like to see next! :P

You were never the kind of person who could sit at a bar alone.  You were never attracted to the dim light, sticky countertops, and endless top 20 hits. You weren’t built for that, but tonight, tonight you were going to sit on the very far end of the dingey dive a block and a half away from your apartment, and you were going to nurse a lukewarm shitty cocktail as long as you wanted. You were going to finally stop putting everything on hold, and you were going to re-join society.

Jesus Christ. Please get it together.

You were a grown woman, who had accomplished things, you didn’t live with your parents, you paid your own bills, you generally try your best to take care of yourself. The only thing you couldn’t seem to figure out is your job. The repetitive cycle of waking up, spending 8 hours a day mindlessly droning through work, being too tired to move, going to bed, and repeating again was unbearable. So, one random Friday morning, with too little in your savings account and even less left of your soul, you decided enough was enough.

There wouldn’t be any more morning chats by the coffee maker, useless one-on-ones with management, or special projects dumped on your plate. You were done. And it wasn’t the lingering fear of your own impulsivity or failure that greeted you when you walked home that night, it was the realization you had nothing else to show for yourself.

There were no boyfriends to come home to, kids to raise, or really anyone to call except for a few old college buddies that were nudging you to get yourself out there for months. The reality was finally dawning, you had put your entire life on hold for a job, and it hadn’t given you anything in return.

 So here you were, half-exhausted, half-terrified, begging the universe for a second chance to shape yourself into something. The stale lifeless reflection staring back was not the picture of happiness you were hoping would follow you home that afternoon but, rather than wallowing in your own mistakes, you decide to go out.

The walk to the bar had been nothing short of rejuvenating. The dulcet sense of your own freedom grounded the moment. Sunshine setting on your face reminded you of summer breezes flitting by and warm evenings under the stars. It had been years since you had allowed yourself this pleasure. The golden cast made the world vibrant again. You couldn’t help but stop for a moment, pressed against the brick facade on the corner of your street to feel the pulse of the city around you. Nothing seemed to move until the sun was tucked behind the tree line, and you didn’t dare disrupt the peace until the chill of the evening settled into dusk all around you, and the only place left to turn was the dive bar at the end of the street.

The bar itself is something that had never really tempted you before that night. The music always skewed a little too country for your liking, and the patrons always seemed to be on the wrong side of leering versus gawking. There was a clear view of a pool table in the back and the dark wood seemed to match the deep whiskey bottles that lined the back of the bar. At least, that’s what you could tell from the few moments the door was left just open enough for you to peek in when passing by.

Now though, now you had an unabashed view of the entire bar, and it was enough to remind you why you’re not usually in places like this. The crowd itself wasn’t too dense for a Friday, but you could tell it would only grow as the night went on. There were patrons scattered around, some sitting in booths exchanging stories of their weeks, others leering from dark corners. You scanned the room quickly, opting for a seat on the closer end of the bar, right against the wall. Completely isolated, a little pocket of stillness, you settled in for a night of true transformation.

It wasn’t long before you realized you were probably a little in over your head. The thing about going out is, you’re sort of stuck with yourself when you get there. Your brain supplies the helpful commentary.

After sipping on a drink for a little over twenty minutes it was starting to feel like you were waiting for something to happen, that wasn’t going to happen. There wasn’t going to be a divine intervention nor was God going to part the crowd and hand you over the ideal life. You had hoped maybe someone would sit within three seats of you, or perhaps you’d get a chatty bartender. There had been no such luck, and you wondered if you were the weird one, cornered alone at a bar on a Friday Night.

This isn’t an episode of Sex in the City girl. The clock doesn’t strike 7:30 and poof you’re Samantha Jones. It’s pathetic, the feeling of shame that builds. The first time you really put yourself out there only to realize everyone else had been out here without noticing you were still stuck in your shell. The watery drink melts away from the heat of your hand and you really start to wonder, what am I doing wrong?

Had the doe-like naivety and melancholy so damaged your persona that people physically recoiled from your space? A million thoughts run through your head, and the ever-mounting urge to run home with your tail tucked between your legs only grows. As the clock struck eight behind the bar, more people wandered in. The crowd steadies out, steering clear from the aura of self-realization oozing out of you.

“Want another?” The bartender asks. It’s really a simple question, and this poor guy is really just trying to do his job. Frankly you really think you shouldn’t but just on the other side of the bar something catches your eye.

A man settles in your direct line of sight. A very attractive man. A very attractive, older man, who is definitely watching you. You feel your jaw go slack and your back straighten alerted to the danger lurking. Your eyes darted to meet his, then away, then back again in a cycle of curiosity and embarrassment. The man only smirked. Fuck me.

“Another round?” The bartender asks again. This time, with an edge of impatience, you just nod dumbly. You knew you were out of practice, but you weren’t expecting to be so bothered by a stranger just looking at you. Your eyes peel from the bar top to settle on his again.

Even in the smoked room the depth of his gaze is intense, like a magnifying glass under the sun. He was entirely concentrated, fixated on your singular point. He wasn’t staring at you; he was devouring you. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had even wanted to talk for longer than twenty minutes, and this was the first time a man had ever looked at you like that.

He seemed to enjoy the way you squirm under his watchful eye. He takes a sip of his beer slowly. Where the hell has this guy been? He’s gruff, the stubble tracing his cheeks only accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw. You feel your thighs press together, imagining the tender sting that he could make between them. He sits at the bar like he was made for it, and when he gives you his attention, you’re glued to it.

This man is a stranger. It’s meant to be a warning, a moment to pause and reconsider if that second drink was worth it. To turn back while you can, because you know if this man comes over, you’ll be going home with him.

And yet, it has the opposite effect. This man, this stranger, has more intrigue in his gaze than all of your past romantic encounters combined. The heat that had begun with small licks to the back of your neck was sweeping through your stomach and settling in for the night.  It's unlike anything you have ever experienced. It’s carnal, the need that floats to the surface. Years of pushing down the most basic desperation in favor of practicality shoot to the surface. You smile to yourself; this might be the most exciting thing you’ve done in years.

--

You feel him before you see him. He’s stalking you from across the bar, closing the distance easily. You can’t help but lean against the wall for support, but his presence doesn’t bring the wave of nerves you had anticipated. His approach alone is calm and clear and only serves to produce hordes of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. His confidence reveals a predation, a swagger that comes when the cat gets the canary.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” He asks, a boyish smile racking across his face. He knows it’s all too much, just too unrealistic, too much pressure on the moment, so he pops it with the careful precision of a man in complete control. The line hits you in your stomach. He could’ve said anything, he already has you in the palm of his hands. He knows it too. But instead of some half-fumbled small talk or uninteresting humble brag, he’s funny.

You let out a laugh, and it wasn’t funny enough to laugh this hard, but the small shrug he gives in defeat is worth it. You feel your shoulders drop and the moment relaxes. He tilts his head to look at you, and from this angle, you can see the hazel flecks in the bar light.

“Ok, maybe too cheesy.” He accepts it with ease that drips with charm. What is he so handsome for?

“Not too cheesy.” You peek up at him through your lashes, thanking your younger self for her fleeting interest in Vogue advice columns. “And for the record, I’m not usually in a place like this.” He watches with vested interest, as you gesture to the bar’s surroundings.

“Well, I’m lucky. I caught you passing through.” He lets his eyes rake down without shame, and it leaves you twisting your legs tighter to keep them from dropping open.

“What’s your name?” He asks. When you manage to say it, he hums it to himself like it’s a secret.

“I’m Jack.” He takes a long sip of his drink, keeping his eyes trained on you, and you sit obediently across from him, letting him take all the time in the world. “So, who do I have to thank for getting you in here tonight?” He’s all listening ears, and it’s not fair how easy he makes it look. He was so at ease, perfectly in his element.

It was almost painful, to be in such direct contrast. His measured gravitas makes your chest tighten, it’s infuriating but hypnotic.

“My job- or maybe my boss?” you concede, feeling heat creep up in your face. He lifts an eyebrow and waits for you to continue. Following on your every word with amused rapture. “I finally quit my job and didn’t really feel like stewing over it in my apartment. So, I decided to come out.” He couldn’t help but let a chuckle past his lips.

It’s almost like he’s patting your head, saying slow down, enjoy the ride. That visual alone is enough to send a pulse of heat through your core. He latched onto anything you would give him. Drinking down your reactions and savoring them for later. As if you weren’t fully intending on making sure you were the only thing he was savoring later.

“Well, can I buy you a drink then?” He moved his stool closer to yours, still giving you enough space to slip by him if you really wanted to go. Not enough space to get out without inconspicuously brushing past him. Now you could see everything on him so clearly, his freckles shining through, the bags that sat pretty under his eyes, a small scar on his hairline, almost obscured by his hair. His cologne clouded your senses, drawing you in like a drug. The musk and smoke smell that sat on his skin was complimented by a lingering antiseptic note.

“To thank you.” He clarified, letting his hand slide around the bar, blocking out most of the chaos behind him. You nod again, and he flags the bartender down.

Jack, as it turned out, wasn’t just an older, attractive man. He was an older attractive doctor, who worked at the ER a few streets over. He spent all of five minutes on himself before turning the conversation back to you. Asking where you grew up, what you used to do for work, favorite songs, movies, and foods. He was invested in your every word, turning a simple question into a whole interview.

He wasn’t without his own commentary, interjecting just as many quick quips of his own life to make it seem like he wasn’t totally letting you dominate the conversation, even though he wanted you to. Where moments of silence would fall flat and leave both parties floundering with the need to fill awkward silence, Jack excels. His silence is never a lull, but a breath, a moment for both of you to steal glances, shaking each other down and building each other back up again.

“I haven’t done anything like this before.” You admit, after an hour of easy banter. He was steady and took the news without surprise. His eyes were the only tell that he had heard you over the blare of music from the speakers, darkening significantly.

“Do what? Talk to strangers?” He teases, leaving your ears burning. He reaches his hand up and tucks a little hair behind your ear, “You’re too good for me, sweetheart.”  

This was it, this is how you’d die. The blood circulating through your head is long gone, and the ache in your thighs clouds all judgment. Breathing was no longer necessary, the feeling of his heavy hands running through your hair was the tie grounding you to this moment. He read you like an open book and sat back with the satisfaction of guessing the ending correctly. He had you entirely figured out.

He takes the opportunity to throw a few bills on the bar, presumably freeing you both to slip out of the pulsing crowd of drunk coeds. You reach for your wallet, following suit, but he stops you.

“I got yours,” He lets his arm sit on your shoulder. He allows himself to rake his eyes down you entirely. You passively wonder what you look like, half-drunk on his attention, wobbly, and nervous. Perhaps a slightly pathetic sight, but Jack only steadied himself under your eyes. “Told you I’d buy you a drink.” He mumbled.

“Oh,” You froze, of course, he said that you smiled up at him earnestly. “Thank you, for the drink, and the company.” Finally, your words seem to knock him back, and it’s deeply satisfying to see him collect himself even for a moment.

He groaned under his breath and let himself invade your space until he was almost completely against you.

“Let me walk you home?” He offers, and you know it’s just words, but you feel your entire body buzz when your head bobbles yes. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, seemingly regaining his composure. Jack was barely hanging onto a thread, but just as soon as he was in your space, he pulled away. He had taken your hand, pulling you into him as you made your way to the dark street.

It only takes three minutes before you’re at the steps of your apartment, and neither one of you hesitates to climb the steps to your front door. It takes about ten seconds for you two to breathe before he has you fully pressed against him, crashing his mouth on yours carefully.

Jack kisses the way every girl hopes someone will kiss her. He kisses you like it’s his sole purpose in this moment, is to forget the rest of his life to make you feel this. His large hands always grounding, always centering your focus, while his tongue slips in with practiced precision. Jack was an exacting passion, that took no shame in pulling the most lewd reactions from your body.

You respond with equal enthusiasm, perhaps more impassioned and sloppier than him, but he only groans into your mouth and presses you into the door. His hands slip down to your waist while yours wind around his neck, pulling him down onto you, into you.

“Jack,” You groan against his mouth when you feel a particular hardness pressing into your stomach. “I really meant it when I said It’s been a while.” This only spurs him on, pressing your body to his closer, trailing kisses down your neck. His kisses, once rough now deadly, against your neck leave unapologetic marks you will question in the morning. Now, it’s liberating to feel the burn of stubble and teeth against the sensitive flesh of your neck. On a particular enthusiastic bite, your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure, and all other thoughts leave your body.

“You’re just so sweet,” he lets his breath trail up your neck until he steadied himself. “Need to taste you, see how sweet you really are.” He was lost in the pleasure of the moment, watching you blissed out in your hallway, waiting for him to ruin you. He cornered you again, letting your bodies slot together. “Need you to unlock the door for me, baby.”

And your body responded in kind like his words were a mission, you fumbled for your keys before slipping through the doorway. He can hardly wait for your door to shut behind him to pounce once more. Now that he had you, he wouldn’t stop until you were writhing around on his cock.

His kiss was all fire and urgency, little time to brace yourself against him before he slipped his hand under your shirt. Not quite wandering, but inching up, teasing you. You let out a pathetic whine, and he only laughs down at you, relishing in your frustration. You feel like you’ll die if you don’t get his hands on you right now, he said he wanted to, and you were past the point of waiting.

“Jack, please,” You beg, and in a moment, you’re dragging him to your room. He has you in pressed against your pillows in record time. Standing at the foot of the bed admiring your frame.

You take the moment to inch your shirt up until it’s sitting just below the line of your bra. Once you watch him a moment you pull the shirt and bra up and over your head, leaving your entire top half bare. Jack is frozen to his spot, his Adams Apple bobs, and his jaw tightens, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from you for even a moment.

He admires you with quiet intensity, he revels in the pride that swells when you reach for him to kiss you again. He can feel you through the thin material of his own shirt, and it’s a useless task distracting him. Before you know it, he’s kissing his way down to your breasts and admiring them once more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He worships your tits, sucking on one, drinking down the pathetic mewls that escape your mouth. “You’re so fucking ripe.” He lets his teeth scrape your skin until red welts bloom, admiring his own artistic signature. And you’re writhing under his ministrations, your panties were soaked by the time he finished. Desperate for more friction, you buck your hips upwards until you meet his thigh.

“I-I need-“You gasp as he anchors your center onto his thigh for friction. “I need you!” He guides you to rotate your hips against him until you’re fully grinding on his thigh.

“Shhh, let yourself enjoy this Sweetheart,” He encourages, his kisses only clouding her senses further, “I got you.” Your eyes roll back as he breathes into your ear. The firm denim perfectly rubbing against your clit. He ducked his head back down to watch you as you chased the pleasure relentlessly. When he notices a large wet patch collecting beneath you, he has to stop himself from rutting into you.

“Shit, sweetheart you’re so messy.” He admonishes, but when you let out a wine of protest, your hips pick up in pace. Jack watched as your face twisted in concentration, chasing a high, and he couldn’t decide what was more erotic, the noises coming out of your mouth or the feeling of your wet pussy dragging down the length of his thigh.

Suddenly he pulls back, dragging his thigh away, eliciting a sound that would’ve made you turn bright red if you weren’t so close to your orgasm. Jack doesn’t pay mind to your protests, tugging your panties down, laying you out bare before him.

“Am I the only one getting naked tonight?” you ask, coy, frustrated, and ready for the reckoning that was Jack Abbot’s dick. He sucks in a breath.

“I just want to warn you,” He starts to explain, and the shake in his voice has you closing your legs and sitting up. The eternally confident ladies’ man laid bare. “I have a prosthetic leg.” He says it and waits. You crawl to the end of the bed meeting him on your knees.

“Do you need to take it off?” You asked, and he furrowed his eyebrows, “Or is it more comfortable on? Or how do you normally do this?” You stuttered through, tugging him down to sit next to you.

“I don’t,” He laughs at you, “normally do this actually.” He shrugs, and it makes him just that bit hotter. Jack wasn’t trying to be anything but honest and reasonable, it only made you want him more.

 You lean your head up and capture his lips in a soft kiss, letting him take comfort in you. Letting him experience the scent of your shampoo as a gift, the sensation of your nails through his hair as a memory, and pressing him down to lie back on the bed as a command.

You swing your legs over his hips, letting your chests press to one another. You let his hand explore you, experiment as you made out like teenagers. Jack pressed his, still clothed, erection into you. You let your head fall back in pleasure, as he rocked into you, building you back up to something wild and dangerous.

You reach down and rest your hand on the zipper of his jeans, tracing the outline of his bulge. You work curiously, learning his anatomy, and swallowing any reactions Jack chokes out. Once Jack decided you were done playing games he interrupted to unzip his jeans slowly. You feel his chest hitch when your hands skim along the elastic of his boxers. He tips his hips enough to allow his pants to fall away, and you shove his boxers down until he’s bare.

Jack was a sturdy man, he was not insubstantial by any means, and you knew he would be sizable but the dick he pops is thick and rabid. You can’t quite fit your hand around him, and the veins just under the skin are throbbing with unrestrained need. Jack is only able to hold himself back until you open your mouth and let a glob of spit drop down onto his vibrant pink tip.

“Please baby-oh Fuck!” He moans out when he feels your hand lubing him up with your own saliva. His mind races, and he imagines the plush comfort only your throat could bring him. “Sweetheart, let me make you feel good first.” You continue your ministrations while pondering his request, savoring the newfound control he has given you.

You allow yourself a moment of temptation and press yourself down on top of him, producing pornographic moans from both of you. Once the fire picks back up you can’t stop yourself from allowing the indulgence of him sliding through your folds with ease. When Jack’s tip catches on your clit you feel your walls contract in a pulse, gushing a new wave of arousal on him. You begin to feel the tension build up your spine, warning you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He murmurs, sitting up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth like a man starved.

“Need you, Jack, I’m gonna die-“He drops his thumb to rub at your clit and suckles harder. The once subtle tug now building into something more intense. “Need you inside, please!” Jack hummed before tugging you down to kiss him, his thumb picking up pace. It wasn’t long before you felt your walls tightening and your jaw drop. Jack grounded you as your orgasm crested, his thumb maintaining constant pressure until your body began to shake with overstimulation. You catch your breath as you collapse on top of his chest.

He smirks up at you, slipping you onto the bed to lay you on your stomach. He takes a moment to revel in maneuvering you back under his control. You whine for him to come and fuck you, but he doesn’t slot behind you as you had anticipated.

You turn your head lazily to catch a glimpse of him at the end of the bed removing his leg and setting it to the side, before shucking his pants all the way off. He peaks over at you, laying pussy out, already half-fucked just from rubbing yourself on him, watching him with rapture as he takes care of himself.

You reach out your hand to him until he’s back in your reach and you can take it. Raising them to his lips before placing a tender kiss on your thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jack.” He chuckles before returning to you, lining himself up to your hole, ready to give you everything he has.

“I’m so fucking glad you were in that bar tonight.” He admits before his hips push forward, splitting you open, and fucking you into your mattress until you’re begging him for mercy.

[darksparklesficrecs]

Might be too much!!! But dressing up on Halloween, weather you’re going to a party or just handing out candy, as Robby’s celebrity childhood crush (OG Wonder Woman/OG cat woman/Sandy from grease) I don’t know who it would be but I just know he’d be red as a tomato seeing you!!!

Oh yes!!!!!!!!!!! I know exactly who his childhood celeb crush is.

Princess Leia.

She was his first love. Not because of the skimpy prisoner outfit she’s wearing in Return of the Jedi. But because she was this tiny beautiful woman who could command a room although the skimpy prisoner outfit certainly did a number on him in his teenage years. It’s funny because you’ve always reminded him of someone, maybe even a character, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it…until Halloween.

There’s a residents/attendings Halloween party where everyone dresses up with a couples costume competition. Ever the gentleman, Robby offers to pair with you when you’re complaining that everyone else already has a partner (Mel and Langdon, Samira and Jack, Whitaker and Santos, Javadi and McKay, Collins and Dana who was the honorary charge nurse invite, Shen and Ellis).

It’s not hard to come up with an outfit. Robby’s a giant and could easily pass off as Han Solo even with a beard. He’s got the smug charm to go with it. So you’re Princess Leia. He doesn’t think much about it, not until he sees you at the party.

Your hair is swirled into the two space buns, and you’re wearing her white dress from A New Hope. For heaven’s sakes, you don’t have a single ounce of skin showing, and Robby’s getting hard at the sight of you. You’re laughing and taking shots like you have no idea what you’re doing to him. He’s just in the basic outfit of pants, the light V-neck long sleeve shirt (that’s showing off a very nice sneak peek of his chest hair), and a dark vest.

Just when he thinks he can control his thoughts after a couple of tequila shots, he sees you skip over to him. Your breasts bounce with every movement, and, holy fuck, you’re not wearing a bra. Your nipples are clearly defined under the white material. Robby’s face reddens, and you can see it in real time creep up from his chest up to his ears. You smirk when you notice his eyes are transfixed upon your tits.

“I went true to the character. Carrie Fisher said George Lucas wouldn’t let her wear a bra or panties because ‘there’s no underwear in space’ according to him.” You note.

Robby just swallows hard, barely able to meet your eyes when you take a step closer. He’s painfully aware of your proximity, especially when your pretty white costume brushes against his pelvis, cloaking around his hardened cock.

“Is that a lightsaber, or are you just happy to see me?”

[darksparklesficrecs]

Knight in Shining Glasses : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: All you wanted to do was enjoy your first night in San Diego at the bar recommended to you by your father, but a hot-shot new to the Top Gun program was intent on bringing you home with him, or at least couldn't take a hint. Lucky for you, there's a knight in shining glasses ready to save you.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY (I am not responsible for the media you choose to consume), fluff, language, kind of a pushy douchebag guy is in this, female reader, language, probably incorrect descriptions of the Navy (my dad was a Marine, I'm doing my best lol but I did do a ton of research so hopefully it's accurate-ish), suggestive and steamy but no smut (but boy did we get real close), like a TINY maybe hint of angst for 0.2 seconds

Word Count: 11,044 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“Another beer?”

You nodded your head at the gorgeous woman behind the bar, who was already sliding a beer your way before you’d even answered, as if she could read your mind. You gave her a smile in thanks, sighing the second your hand touched the cool glass of the bottle.

San Diego was hot, too hot for your liking. Every piece of fabric on your body felt as if it was clinging to your body right now in a way that had you begging the world just to make it legal to walk around naked. You much preferred the weather back in New England, on the complete opposite side of the country, but you had promised to come to town for a bit. It had been years since you’d seen your father, not since his promotion and subsequent move to San Diego, your conflicting work schedules making it impossible to make the cross-country trip, even if you missed him.

You were here now, though, seated in the bar that had come highly recommended to you straight from him: The Hard Deck, located right on Coronado Beach, just minutes from the Naval Air Station of North Island.

“Local beer?” you questioned the woman as yet another group of rowdy, young Naval aviators came bursting through the doors of the bar, disturbing some of the other guests in the packed bar. The woman, whose nametag you could now see said Penny, just laughed at the antics of her new guests before nodding at you.

“Yeah, local company. They’re pretty popular around here, so I always have to keep them in stock,” you hummed, taking another sip of the drink in your hands. Rich in flavor, maybe with a hint of sweetness that complemented the bitterness it left behind. You could see why it was popular around here. Penny wiped the bar directly in front of you, flashing you a smile. “Now, I know most of my regulars here, and you certainly aren’t one. Where’d you blow into town from?”

“Watertown, New York,” you told her as another group of Naval aviators passed by you in their service khakis, older than the group that had just come in. Your eyes followed them for just a moment, lingering as they moved to the back of the room to the pool tables as if they were there every night, before looking back at Penny. “My father is in the Navy, stationed here in San Diego. Thought it was finally time I visited him.”

“Good, means you know how to deal with the rowdy bunch I have here,” you both laughed as she gestured toward the group of young pilots that had just come through. Someone called to her from further down the bar, and she paid you one final smile. “Holler if you need anything, or if anyone’s giving you trouble.”

“Will do,”

With the jukebox playing off in the corner, Summer of ‘69 by Bryan Adams filling the air, it gave you a chance to really take in the atmosphere. Given the proximity to the Naval Air Station, you weren’t surprised by the amount of Navy paraphernalia that decorated the entire bar. Mugs hung from the ceiling with F18s on them, plenty of pictures of those monster jets hung up around the tables as well. And with the clientele that Penny seemed to attract here, judging by the number of young pilots scattered around, you weren’t surprised that this seemed to have turned into a place many in the Navy flocked to after a long day on base.

The young group of aviators, who seemed to have met up with another group of friends, were loud and rambunctious over by the dart board as they took bets on who could make a bullseye first. You rolled your eyes at their antics with a slight smile, reminded of the stories your father had told of his days, and looked over your shoulder toward that older group by the pool tables.

Easily your age, or at least older and more experienced than the group by the dart board. There was one woman among the groups of men with darker hair, already kicking their asses at the pool game they were playing. That alone quirked your lips up just slightly as you watched Penny deliver a tray of drinks to the group that seemed very personally friendly with her. Ah, so they must be stationed here at North Island and be regulars of the Hard Deck.

They were quite the bunch, from what you observed from the bartop. There was the young man playing alongside the woman, and what seemed like his best friend pestering him after another missed shot. There was a taller, tan blonde who you could tell from here exuded confidence in an over-the-top way, and a friend beside him who also seemed to have that arrogant confidence about him. The man taking the tray from Penny and passing out the drinks had that same confidence and charm, but it almost seemed to roll off of him naturally as if he wasn’t even trying to charm those around him.

It was the one sitting off to the side, silently observing his friends, that caught your eye.

He didn’t exude confidence in the same way that his friends did. He wasn’t walking sex on legs like many would think the tall, overconfident friends of his were…but he was to you. Quiet, simply observing his friends with a tiny smile that stirred something in your chest. One hand holding onto the neck of his beer bottle, the same one you were drinking, and the other casually snacking on a cup of peanuts. You tried, and failed, to keep your eyes from lingering on those long, slender fingers of his, or the fact that, even from here, you could tell his hands were large in a delicious way that had your mind imagining what they’d feel like settled on your bare-

Okay, yeah, maybe it was time to say ‘fuck it’ to your no hook-up rule and get laid on this vacation. You couldn’t be thinking like this over a man you’d been looking at for less than a minute, didn’t even know his name, or had yet to make eye contact with.

But then, when your eyes finally left those slender hands, you were making eye contact with him.

There was an adorable flush crawling across his cheeks, and god were you a sucker for a cute man in some glasses. His lips quirked up in a shy smile as he met your gaze, giving you a tiny nod. A similar flush crept up your neck at being caught staring, giving him a small wink before turning back around to not seem like a creep watching him.

With Penny off taking orders as the bar only seemed to get busier by the minute, and no one around you seemed like good options for a conversation, you found yourself spun around to lean against the bar and observe the room. No time like a crowded bar to people watch.

With a few work emails checked to ensure you weren’t missing anything pressing on your vacation, and a text sent to your father to thank him for the bar recommendation, you found your eyes drifting back to that same Naval aviator once more.

The woman had dragged him from his seat, his beer and peanuts left behind as a pool cue was shoved into his hands as his friends cheered, bringing a grin to your face. Your eyes tracked him as he bent over the table to line up his shot, his friends engrossed in a conversation together, but then his eyes flicked up and met yours again. Your eyebrow shot up as you raised a beer to him, a simultaneous encouragement for him to sink his shot and also a challenge to see if he could. His lips quirked up at that as, without even glancing down to his cue, he took his shot: directly in the pocket without interference. His friends clapped for him, patting him on the back, but his eyes stayed on you. Even with another flush crawling up his neck and nerves practically stitched into his smile, he shot you a wink this time, and you couldn’t stop the giddy grin on your lips.

“Well, never seen girl as pretty you before,”

You didn’t want to stop looking at that gorgeous man in glasses across the bar, but you were intrigued to know who was speaking to you.

He wasn’t the worst-looking man, he was attractive. Dark hair that matched the mustache and the beard that was growing in, which was definitely against grooming standards for the Navy. Pretty brown eyes…but he wasn’t your shy, glasses-sporting boy across the room. Plus, you recognized him from that rowdy bunch of pilots that had walked in beforehand. The smile you’d given the man across the bar dropped into the smallest, friendliest one you could muster as you looked at the name on his badge: Jackson.

“Well, that’s definitely a way to open up a conversation,” you shot back. The man only laughed, leaning against the bar next to you with a charming, over-confident grin on his lips.

“Warrant Officer Daniel Jackson,” he held out his hand to shake yours, and you reluctantly gave it to him. You regretted it the moment he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, and you quickly took your hand back and slyly wiped it along the side of your jeans. “Friends call me Caveman.”

“Interesting callsign,” you shot back with a fake laugh, tilting your head. “You get that from the unkempt beard that’s clearly not within grooming protocols?

He laughed again, but it did nothing to lift your smile from where it was frozen to be polite. He took a swig from his own beer that he’d brought over with him before leaning closer.

“Funny, and you know the Navy,” you laughed uncomfortably again, taking a subconscious scoot backward on your chair to get away from him. “Brand new to Top Gun, friends and I got in earlier. About to become the best of the best…”

He continued talking, droning on and on about Top Gun and the ‘prestige’ that came with being one of the best of the best (if he could actually get through the vigorous training). In the interest of being polite and not pissing off a man your first night in town, you laughed politely when appropriate and pretended to be listening.

When your eyes glanced back at that man in the glasses, though, he was already looking at you. Back to standing near the seat he’d occupied before, peanuts in his hands and the pool game abandoned as he seemed to be watching you. You gave him a dramatic roll of your eyes, pitching your head toward the pilot still talking your ear off as if to say ‘get a load of this guy,’ and you could see him laugh from across the bar. That simple action sent a flutter through your chest, and god, what you wouldn’t give to actually hear that laugh.

“...I could show you base sometime,” your attention was, sadly, brought back to Caveman beside you, who was still smiling at you as if you were a prize he’d won and wanted to flaunt around the entire bar to each and every patron. “Could sponsor ya for the day, give ya a private tour.”

“That’s sweet, but I’m sure if I wanted to visit the base, my father would happily sponsor me,” you shot back, trying to turn him down as politely as you possibly could. Your comment only seemed to brighten his mood even more.

“Navy dad, you say?” he’d leaned in closer once more, and you were running out of room on the little stool to lean away from him. “Guess that means you know a lot. Dad have rules about…dating pilots?”

Yeah, no, now you were uncomfortable. There was no being polite now, he’d made his intentions clear and could clearly not read your body language. Your body instantly tensed as your eyes avoided his, still trying to keep the most polite smile you could on your lips. Penny was nowhere in sight to help, so your eyes immediately found your pilot across the room.

He was already watching you, it seemed, but when you locked eyes again, he stood up a little straighter, the smile he had on his face dropping slightly. It was as if he could see the way your demeanor had suddenly changed, and god, you hoped he could see it.

“I’m flattered, but I’m not looking for anything like that,” you’d awkwardly laughed out as you looked back at him finally. “I’m just here on vacation.”

That was when his hand settled on top of your knee, and your heart leapt into your throat. The heat of his hand felt like it was burning a hole in your jeans as he squeezed just so.

“Don’t got to be anything serious, I’m down for some fun,”

That polite smile was gone off your face in an instant as you tried to yank your leg from him, but he squeezed it just slightly tighter.

“Okay, Caveman, sounds like you must’ve got your nickname from how you treat women,” that snide comment seemed to drop his confident demeanor immediately. “I’ve turned you down, I’ve made it clear I’m not interested. So I suggest you let me go.”

“Come on, I think you just need to-”

“I’m pretty sure she said let her go, Caveman,”

There was an edge to the voice that cut in, but not one that made you feel on edge yourself. A hand clamped down on your shoulder from behind, firm but not uncomfortable in the way that the hand on your knee was. Grounding, and when it squeezed your shoulder just slightly, it felt comforting. Protective, in a way. And when you finally turned your head and noticed those familiar glasses you’d been staring at all night, and those gorgeous blue eyes hiding behind them, you immediately relaxed into his touch.

Caveman’s hand immediately left your knee as he seemed to sit up a little straighter, putting his hands up in surrender as he looked at the man standing at your side now.

“Lieutenant Floyd-”

“Things are looking tense over here!” those two pilots you’d observed earlier, the ones who exuded confidence in your eyes, suddenly appeared behind Caveman. The taller blonde placed his hand down on his shoulder just as Lieutenant Floyd’s was on yours, and you glanced at their tags: Lt. Seresin and Lt. Bradshaw. The blonde pointed to Caveman, raising an eyebrow at the man at your side. “Baby-on-board, is this man causing trouble?”

Your shoulder was squeezed once more as you turned back to look at the man at your side, feeling another flutter in your chest as you got a good look at those sky blue eyes up close, which made him even more attractive in your eyes. He gave you a small smile, tilting his head toward your ‘friend’ just like you had earlier on.

“Is he bothering you?”

You’d glanced back at Caveman, who seemed semi-scared shitless around these guys, and a smirk curled up on your lips.

“Yes, yes he is,”

“Disrespecting a lady?” it was Penny’s voice now as she reappeared behind the bar, her glare set on that poor pilot that everyone was ganging up on. She ‘tsked’ in his direction, before stepping back to point to a sign hanging just behind her. “It’s your first night here, you should probably check the rules before you get comfortable.”

Disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your cellphone on my bar…you buy a round.

Alright, Penny might be your new favorite person, besides the hot ass pilot in glasses still comfortably resting his hand on your shoulder as the scene played out before you all.

Caveman never even got a chance to defend himself, as Penny had stepped up to the bell hanging from the ceiling beside the sign, the ring of it echoing throughout the bar. Within seconds, there were chants of ‘OVERBOARD!’ heard throughout the room before Lt. Seresin and Lt. Bradshaw had the man hooked under their arms, dragging him out to the parking lot as his friends quickly followed behind.

“A-Are you okay?”

Your eyes found your pilot’s brilliant blue ones again, this time in front of you as he chose to now occupy the seat Caveman was sitting in just moments prior. You simply stared at him for a moment, still trying to process the entire interaction, before a smile stretched wide across your face.

“You know, I thought the Knight in all the fairytales was wearing shining armor?” you posed it like a question, a teasing tone present in your words as you took a quick swig of your beer, eyes never leaving his, and your smile turning into a slight smirk. “Didn’t know mine was going to come bearing shining glasses, instead.”

He’d laughed, that laugh just minutes ago you would’ve burned this bar down to hear, and my god, did you adore it. You adored it more than you should, given that you still didn’t know this mystery man’s name.

“No woman deserves to be treated like that, ma’am,” he tried to dismiss you, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as your eyes trailed over those hands once again, now that they were so close. You could see the redness in his cheeks from this close now, too. “T-The way he was acting, my mom would’ve torn me a new one if I didn’t step in.”

“And is that the only reason?” you quipped back immediately, placing your beer down on the counter just so you could really look at him, study him. “That you stepped in?”

You could see the way he hesitated for a moment, but not as if he didn’t want to answer you. No, you could see that flush deepening in his skin: you were flirting with him, and he knew it, he just didn’t know how to handle it.

“N-No, no, that’s not the only reason,” there was a shy smile on his face as he huffed out a sheepish laugh, looking down at his lap for a moment, before looking back to you. “I should actually thank him, his incompetence gave me the balls to come over here and talk to you.”

He’d made you laugh, a boisterous one that caught the attention of a few lingering around the area of the bartop you were sat at, and you knew already that you were screwed when it came to this man. You’d offered your name immediately after that, a hand out to shake, and he took it in his own as he gave his name: Bob Floyd.

You tried desperately not to think about the way his hand had felt against yours, or the way it had absolutely engulfed your hand due to its sheer size alone. You forced your gaze to the badges that adorned the left side of his khaki uniform, glancing back up at him with a grin as you pulled your hand away.

“So, a Lieutenant?” you commented, gesturing toward the two silver bars on the collar of his uniform, before pointing with your beer bottle to the golden wings centered above his heart. “Flight officer badge. You’re a Weapons Systems Officer?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he gave you another kind grin as Penny swung by quickly, shooting a wink in both of your directions as you slid you both another beer each, muttering something about it being on the house. Bob took his with a sheepish smile, thanking Penny quietly before his attention refocused on you. “Top Gun graduate.”

“Ah, that and the rank explain why Caveman was so scared shitless to see you and your friends,” he’d laughed again at that comment as you finished off the last of your beer, a sly smirk appearing as it was hard to miss the way that Bob’s eyes flickered down to your neck as you tilted you head back to finish off the bottle. “Typically, you’re only recalled here for special detachments and sent home to your squadrons, unless you’re here to train newbies like our friend in the sand outside.”

“We were brought in for a mission months ago,” Bob’s attention was turned away as Lt. Seresin and Lt. Bradshaw reentered the bar. They both gave you polite waves that you happily returned for what they’d done for you, before making the most obvious of kissy faces toward Bob that had him shaking his head in embarrassment. You tried to hold in your laughter for his own sake. “They thought we had good team dynamics, so they formed a special squadron to keep us in town for a while. VFA-73 Dagger Squad, at your service.”

“Well, cheers to you all and a sincere thanks for your service,” he happily clinked the top of his bottle against your own. “Must be one special group to get a new squadron formed, no less made up of the best of the best.”

“Oh, they’re special, alright,”

You’d quickly come to learn in the next few minutes that Bob Floyd might’ve been the quieter one of his friends, but he was just as charming as the rest seemed to be. Honestly, you weren’t sure he understood just how charming he really was. He’d pointed across the bar toward his friends, naming off their names and the callsigns that you were sure to remember more easily. With each name, he seemed to easily have a story or a quick-witted quip about each one (including the embarrassing story of his Bob ended up his callsign and how Hangman had turned it into baby-on-board) that had you progressively laughing harder, leaning further toward him. You were seated facing one another, bodies angled directly at the other, and his knee was just barely brushing up against yours now with each laugh shared.

“Hangman seems like a piece of work, but I bet he’s got a soft side buried somewhere down in there,” you’d shot back, turning Bob’s attention back to you as you leaned closer to him with a grin, launching into a story that Bob seemed gripped to, an easy smile on his own face. “My dad’s the same way, took my Uncle Solomon–not my real Uncle, but kind of chosen Uncle–to break him down a little bit, get him to loosen up more.”

“So, your father was in the Navy?”

“Still is, reason that I’m in town right now,” 

With Bob this close, you were losing focus fast. The way he hung onto every word that you said, seemed to genuinely care about what you had to say, had a flutter flying through your chest that you hadn’t felt since your first boyfriend back in high school. Sure, you’d had your fair share of relationships in adulthood, but nothing that clicked, no one that made your heart soar or made you want to ‘pop your foot’ as Princess Mia always said in your favorite childhood movie. You were starting to understand her logic, though, because every second around this charming knight in shining glasses had you ready to throw caution to the wind.

So, with a little boost of confidence fueled by the third beer in your hand and the adorable sight of a blush on the Naval aviator’s face, you moved even closer. Your leg slotted itself between his, pressed between his thighs as your foot rested against the bottom rungs of his chair. You could see him freeze for just a second as his eyes followed you, not apprehensive, but just unsure, like he’d never been here before. With your beer pushed off to the side, not seeing a need for any more liquid courage, your elbow came to rest on the bartop and your head on top of your hand, allowing you to look up at the handsome man before you and watch as he visibly swallowed the lump in his throat.

God, that really had no right to be as hot as it was.

“S-So, he’s stationed here on North Island?”

“Maybe,” you shot back with a smirk, one that brought an easy smile back to his lips as he could surely hear the teasing tone laced through your words as you kept your answer vague. “I’d prefer not to talk about my dad, though, when I could be hearing more about the incredibly handsome WSO who saved this poor damsel in distress.”

Another easy laugh was shared between you both before the floodgates seemed to open up.

Bob had no issue telling you all about his childhood. He’d grown up in Montana, on a ranch somewhere on the outskirts of Bozeman, which prompted a lengthy debate on whether or not he qualified as a cowboy or not (you thought he did, and when he confessed to owning a few cowboy hats, you declared yourself the winner of the debate). His mother and father, Bonnie and Owen Floyd, had three daughters before finally having Bob, their youngest: Laura, and the twins Sophia and Sierra. He’d recounted a story from back in high school when they’d taken a trip to Yellowstone National Park for Bob’s birthday, at his request, where his oldest sister had gotten yelled at by a park ranger for stepping way too close to one of the hot springs.

“That’s, like, impossible to do!” you’d almost shouted through the bar incredulously as Bob laughed at your reaction. “All you have to do is stay on the guided paths, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Bob managed to explain through his own laughter. “Laura swore she saw a bald eagle and was just trying to get a closer look. She then, unbelievably, yelled back at the ranger about how one day she was going to be a conservationist and work there.”

“In the nicest way…she sounds like a piece of work sometimes,”

“No offense taken, the whole family agrees. I like to say she took all the extrovertedness in the family so that there was none left for me,”

Your lips quirked into another bright smile at that, tone slightly teasing once more, but in a soft way.

“I don’t know, you don’t seem so introverted around me,”

Bob paused at that, that adorable blush still ever present in his skin, as his lips quirked up just slightly higher than they were before.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t,” he’d shyly managed to say, eyes never straying from yours. “You make it easy.”

With more shared laughter, two hearts fluttering just from conversation alone, Bob even told you the story of how he’d decided to join the Navy. He’d been with his father one day, the family truck getting worked on at the local shop, and his dad had slid him some money to grab them both some snacks from the pharmacy a few doors down. Bob had only been around 10 at the time. In between those two buildings, though, had been a Navy recruitment center where he’d overheard the conversation inside with some high school students, and the rest was history. He suddenly had every book known to man about the Navy, was watching every movie that even mentioned the Navy in passing, and had sheepishly admitted to even starting a collection of model planes he’d built, dreaming one day of flying them.

God, if that wasn’t somehow the cutest story in the world, but also the hottest moment of vulnerability you’d seen from a man your age in years, you were practically ready to swoon and drop to the floor right there in the middle of the bar. You had a feeling that Penny wouldn’t take kindly to that, even if she seemed to like you and Bob’s friend group.

In turn, you’d told Bob everything about yourself, too. Growing up in a town in New York that felt more like it was part of Canada than New York, given your proximity to the border. You were an only child, your father (who had you skirting around any details that Bob asked about him) was too focused on his career to think about having another kid. But he always swore that you were enough for him. His workaholic nature and deep love for the Navy and moving up the ranks strained the relationship he had with your mother until they divorced. How you never got to see him often, but he always managed to call at least once a week to talk to his ‘perfect girl.’

With the depressing comparison of your childhoods and family dynamics, you’d told him the happy stories and memories, too. Ones that you didn’t normally divulge to a man you had just met. You’d been on a softball team all through high school with your best friends, won multiple championships, and even gotten a scholarship to Boston University because of it. There were multiple stories about how your parents always bribed you with Cold Stone Creamery, and how it was still your favorite ice cream place today. That time your friends had gotten caught sneaking alcohol into the punch bowls at prom (that story had Bob laughing, as he recounted a similar one that Hangman had told them from his high school days). And, of course, the thrilling stories of your very mundane marketing job back in your hometown, the one you never managed to escape.

“You at least like your job, though, right?” Bob had asked, and with the way you were now sitting together, it would probably be more comfortable and practical to just climb into his lap and use him as a chair. Legs still wound around one another, both leaning against the bar with beers long forgotten, faces entirely too close together as you sat in your own bubble together. The sun had long since gone down, as it had still been in the beginning stages of setting when you’d first entered the bar. 

One hour, two? You had no clue how long you’d been talking to Bob Floyd, but every part of you wanted to talk to him for the rest of the night and beyond. It was easy, it was comfortable, and you felt more respected in the entirety of this conversation than you did on any Tinder date you’d been on in years. Safe. That’s what you felt. You felt safe around Bob Floyd, a feeling that was a hot commodity in today's dating climate.

“I do. I went to school for it, so I hope I like it,” your eyes drifted to the bartop, finger absentmindedly tracing the water ring left around your discarded beer bottle. “Pays well, very well. Just want to do it…somewhere other than my hometown, is all. Love the company I work for, just want a change. If an opportunity presented itself, I’d leave Watertown immediately.”

“And besides your mom, you wouldn’t uh…you wouldn’t be leaving anyone behind, would you? No like a, uh, a boyfriend…or anything?”

You’d glanced back up at him now, at the way he bit into his bottom lip with both nerves and hope shining in his eyes as he waited with baited breath for your answer. And in turn, you smiled, leaning just the slightest bit closer to him with amusement laced in your words.

“Lieutenant Floyd, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been flirting with you all night. I wouldn’t do that if there was someone waiting for me,”

He laughed then, and you could almost physically see the tension and nerves leave his body.

“Good, because uh, I-I don’t either. Have anyone, I mean,” your head tilted as Bob groaned slightly, running a hand down his face and adjusting his glasses with a deep chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m really not good at this.”

“At flirting?”

“I never really get the chance to, no one ever really notices me,” he’d shrugged it off like it was nothing, but you’d felt a small pang in your chest at that comment. “Jake, Bradley, Javy…it’s always them, and it doesn’t normally bother me. But I…I saw you earlier, and you looked at me like you saw me. Like you really saw me. You never looked at them, you kept looking at me. And…I’ve never been the one looked at like that, not when I’m with them. I’m not the one noticed.”

You shuffled, sitting up slightly now so that you weren’t leaning against the bar, as you placed your hand on top of his, where it lay in his lap. Bob simply watched you, a tiny smile never leaving his face, as you reciprocated the look and gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m not one to flirt with a random guy at a bar, or sit and divulge details of my life story to him for hours on end. Which means you, Bob Floyd, are special. And honestly? I’m glad the other ladies don’t notice you, because I sure did. And that just leaves more for me.”

There was silence for a beat before his hand under your own moved back just slightly, his fingers now splayed out over your own, wrapping around them slightly with a tiny squeeze. And somewhere in that small movement, in the looks exchanged in the never-ending eye contact you seemed to hold with one another, something changed. Those heated looks from earlier held a new weight with the words spoken out loud, the tension on the rope connecting the two of you tighter than it had been from the moment you’d first saw Bob Floyd from across the bar, and it felt like all it was going to take to snap that tension was to lean in-

“Baby-on-board! You done hogging your girl over there so we can meet her?”

And…moment ruined. Bob immediately shut his eyes, groaning with a mumble under his breath about how he was ‘going to kill Hangman’ while his friends all laughed from across the bar. You’d simply laughed, leaning your head down until your forehead rested against Bob’s shoulder, his breath and words ghosting over the side of your face as he finally spoke.

“Sorry about them. The one time I have a girl interested in me, they decide to be pricks about it,”

“Maybe they’re just trying to summon you back over, I have held you hostage long enough,” you commented when you finally lifted your head, glancing down at the watch on his arm to see that you had, in fact, held this man hostage at the bar for almost two hours, even though it had felt like minutes.

“Trust me, this was no hostage situation. I’d rather be over here with you,” Bob was quick to interject, his smile seeming to stretch wider as you were sure he could see the flush crawling up your own neck. Untangling your legs, Bob rose to his feet beside the chair as a pang of disappointment hit you square in the chest. That was, until he held his hand out to you with a sheepish grin. “Care to join me?”

You were pretty sure you would’ve followed Bob Floyd anywhere at this point. Was it insane to like a guy this much after barely knowing him for a night? Probably, but you didn’t feel like you’d just met him. No, Bob Floyd felt like meeting an old friend again, and god did you love the feeling. That’s why you didn’t hesitate to put your hand in his.

“Lead the way, Lieutenant,”

There was another round of cheers the second you and Bob were finally in their vicinity, another comment from Hangman about ‘Bobby finally bagging a woman’ that ended with a harsh shoulder slap from Phoenix. You’d only laughed as Bob shook his head at their antics and gratefully accepted the barstool he’d held out for you. Your eyes watched him, like they had been the entire night, as he turned down the invitation to the pool game at hand, taking a seat on the stool directly next to you.

What he probably hadn’t expected was for your foot to hook around the leg of his stool, dragging it directly to your side until every part of you that could be pressed up against the handsome WSO was. When he saw the easy smile on your face and the tiny wink you gave him, you could see any last bit of tension leave his body as he easily leaned into you as well.

They’d all quickly introduced themselves, though Bob had already given you the rundown before. You greeted them politely with a smile, finally giving them your own name so Bradley didn’t have to call you ‘mystery bar girl’ anymore.

“Well, well, well baby-on-board,” it was Hangman once again, shaking his head as he took a shot on one of his last solids left in play, sinking it easily. “Looks like you snagged a confident one. Too bad, bet I could’ve swept her off her feet if given the chance.”

Flirty. Bob certainly didn’t exaggerate just how flirtatious Jake Seresin seemed to be, not that you were interested at all in any comments from him. The comments didn’t catch you off guard, but Bob’s actions did.

His hand was immediately on your thigh, closer down toward your knee, but resting there nonetheless. Just the slightest bit of pressure, enough to feel as if it had been meant in a comforting gesture, but it inherently held something a little more to it. Not quite possessiveness, but something akin to staking a claim, to say you were with him and him only. While Caveman’s hand on any part of you had you wanting to run for the hills, Bob’s firm grip had you leaning into his side more, chasing after the warmth and security he provided. It still sent a flash of heat through every inch of your body, especially when you glanced down to see just how big his hand was when it was resting on such a small part of you. You wished you’d opted for the jean shorts you had picked out earlier now just to feel his hand engulf your bare skin instead.

“Knock it off, Bagman. Clearly, she’s more interested in the quiet types,” the wink Natasha sent your way made you laugh, a similar chuckle coming from Bob at his front-seater’s comments, as she whacked Hangman over the shoulder. While lining up to take her own shot in the game, you saw her catch the way Bob’s hand rested on your leg, and a flash of surprise followed by pride seemed to cross her features. “So, never seen you around before. What brings you to Fightertown?”

“Visiting my dad for a few weeks, he’s stationed here on North Island. But…I’m also here for work,” you could see Bob’s head turn to look at you curiously from the corner of your eye, but you kept your gaze on Natasha. “The marketing firm I work for has a branch out here in San Diego, over in Chula Vista. They know I’ve been looking to move, so they thought I should come check out their set-up out here to see if I liked it enough to take their offer.”

There was a squeeze to your thigh as you turned your attention back to Bob, who was looking at you quizically.

“You didn’t mention that before,”

“Wasn’t sure I was going to take their offer earlier,” you shrugged innocently. “San Diego is hot, I’m not built for this weather.”

“But you…think you might take it now?”

You bit into your bottom lip, leaning just a fraction closer to Bob as you tried to hold back your grin as you replied.

“Well…maybe I found another enticing reason to hang around San Diego for a while,”

There was a low murmur of laughter throughout the group at your words, that gorgeous redness settling back into Bob’s cheeks, and you could hear Fanboy mumble out just loud enough a ‘damn, she’s good at this’ comment.

The group asked their questions, and you answered happily. Where you were from, what all your job entailed, even the stupid little questions like who your celebrity crush was or if you ever thought about joining the Navy like your father.

All the while, Bob never strayed from your side. His thumb had been rubbing little circles into your jeans, just firm enough to feel it on your skin each time the digit moved back and forth, and god, you were really cursing yourself for not wearing those shorts right now. At some point, during a pool rematch between Rooster and Coyote, your head had found it’s way to rest against Bob’s shoulder, and after a brief moment there was the unmistakeable feel of lips pressed to the crown of your head that had a shiver running down your spine and another flash of heat rushing through you, this time heading all south.

Charming, sexy in a quiet way that made him seem so non-threatening, and an absolutely sweetheart and a gentleman…it hadn’t even been a day, but you knew Bob Floyd had already ruined your standards for men. He was the standard.

“Sorry, my favorite fighter pilots,” the attention of everyone crowded by the pool tables turned to Penny, hand on her hip, but an easy smile on her face as she glanced around, eyes lingering on you and the WSO who were still wrapped around one another. “Last call time, going to have to kick you all out now.”

Last call? With a quick glance around the bar, you noticed that there was, in fact, barely any patrons still around. The ones still left behind were already moving toward the door. And with a glance down at Bob’s watch, the time was confirmed: 2 a.m.

“Damn, we almost never stay here until last call,” Rooster laughed, packing up everything on the pool table so that Penny didn’t have to deal with it, Fanboy and Paybackl disappearing after offering to help Penny clean up bottles still littered around the bar.

“Time does fly when you’re having fun,” Natasha commented, bumping shoulders with him before she set her sights on you. “What about you, our honorary Dagger? Need a ride back to wherever you’re staying?”

“Nah, I’m staying at Hotel del Coronado right down the beach. Perks of the job. I just walked along the beach to get here earlier,” your gaze then flickered over to Bob, his thumb still rubbing circles into your leg where he’d never let go throughout the night. “Though it’s pretty late, I’d love if there was some knight in shining glasses still hanging around that wouldn’t mind walking me back.”

There wasn’t a second of hesitation from Bob before he was on his feet, the heat of his hand on your leg disappearing, and then reappearing moments later when his hand wrapped around your own, fingers sliding into place between yours.

“I’ve got tomorrow off, I’ll see you guys on base Sunday,” Bob nodded toward his friends, tugging you even closer to his side. “Tell Penny I’ll come grab my truck later.”

“More like in the morning,” Hangman commented, trying to conceal it surrounded by fake coughs. The group had laughed, the comment spurring another bloom of red across Bob’s cheeks and your own, before he’d tugged you out the back door of the Hard Deck and into the sand.

The beach in these early hours of the morning was quiet, beautiful in a way that only these lonely hours of the night could make it. No distant sound of traffic, no families or rowdy groups of teenagers running up and down the sand, just the sand, the waves, and the moon. It cast streaks of light over the water, its reflection rippling in the waves as they crashed to shore, setting the scene of a picturesque night along the stretch of sand that lasts miles.

Bob had held you up as you removed your sandals, carrying them in one hand in order to appreciate the cool sand beneath your feet. Your other hand still stayed wrapped up in Bob’s, the warmth of his skin a delicious contrast to the cool breeze that came with the cool nighttime California air. Conversation hadn’t stopped, not once, since you’d both started talking earlier on in the night, but this time it was Bob pointing up at the sky as you lazily moved down the beach at the slowest pace you could, naming constellations visible.

“That one right over there,” you followed his gaze as he pointed just slightly West in the sky. “That one is Hercules.”

“Ah, absolutely. I can totally see it,” you nodded your head repeatedly, and it was clear that Bob was already starting to laugh at your response. “The square those stars form, and the little stick arms and legs, definitely gives off a mythological Greek hero to me.”

“Well, actually,” Bob managed to speak through his laughter. “It’s named for his Roman counterpart. Heracles was his Greek counterpart, so they’re essentially the same thing.”

After a moment, you dropped Bob’s hand, turning and angling your body so that you were facing him head-on, walking backward in the sand. Even in the dark of the night, you could tell there was a tiny blush creeping along his cheeks as you tilted your head toward him.

“Bob Floyd, don’t tell me you’re also a secret space nerd!”

His laugh echoed down the beach as he hung his head for a moment, adjusting his glasses when he finally looked back up to you with a grin.

“Guilty, hard not to be with the kind of night skies I grew up seeing in Montana. I-I haven’t…completely ruined my chances now that I’ve nerded out…have I?”

“On the contrary. I have a thing for smart men,” with another wink, you’d spun on your heel in the sand, continuing your walk toward the hotel. “Especially this smart, handsome WSO named Bob Floyd that I met tonight.”

You’d barely gotten a few steps away before there was a sudden tug on your hand, your body spinning back around in the sand until your chest was pressed directly to Bob’s. And before you could utter a single word, his lips were, finally, on yours.

Without a second of hesitation, you fell into him, swept away by the way his fingers traced the line of your jaw, sliding their way to the back of your neck as he held you in place against him. His lips moved against your own with a sense of gentleness that disappeared once it was clear you were reciprocating with vigor, his mouth swallowing yours with the hunger of a starved man.

Almost involuntarily, a delicious little sound you swore you’d never made before tumbled from your lips, swallowed whole by the soft, firm moves of Bob’s lips against your own. A spark grew in the pit of your stomach the second the hand on your waist gripped you just the slightest bit tighter, a spark that was soon a raging inferno that you had no thoughts about taming. 

It takes no effort to give in to Bob Floyd, not when he holds you like this. Not when he’s kissing you on a moonlit beach as if you’d personally hung the moon in the sky just for him.

There is no question in this kiss, no lingering doubts about whatever had sparked between you both since the moment you’d made eye contact hours ago. When your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers sliding through and tugging lightly on the sandy blonde hair you couldn’t even see in the dark, and he elicits a groan that has your knees threatening to give out in the sand, there’s no question: there’s a claim. If his hand on your thigh was the precursor, the writing of a contract to claim you as his in a way you didn’t even realize you already were, this kiss was the signature. Signed and dated, written in stone. You weren’t sure there was another man in the world who could kiss you the way Bob Floyd was kissing you, who could ignite a fire that bright in the depths of your soul.

With reluctance, as if it takes the gods themselves to pull either of you away, you part for the simple need to breathe. And, god, does Bob Floyd look wrecked. Panting, lips red and swollen, the skin of his neck and cheeks flushed red, and an unmistakable bit of fog to his glasses. You laughed then, breathy from your own lack of oxygen, reaching up with the sleeve of your shirt to wipe at the fog, knowing that, given how you felt right now, you surely didn’t look any better than he did.

“Well…hi,” you managed to huff out, chest still struggling to get air back into your lungs.

“Hi,” his voice came out almost like a whisper at first, full of wonder, his hand still cradling your head. His thumb was, once again, drawing little circles into the skin right around your ear, his smile wider than you’d seen all night. “I…I’m sorry-”

“Do not apologize for that,” you’d interjected immediately as Bob huffed out a laugh. “Please, never apologize for that.”

“Good, because I was lying. I-I’m really not sorry,” the hand against your cheek left you, taking its warmth with it, before both of Bob’s hands settled on your waist. You tightened your arms around his shoulders in response, sandals having been long discarded in the sand somewhere amid the kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for hours. I…I like you. Like, a lot. More than I think I should for the few short hours I’ve known you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re on the same page. I don’t divulge my entire life story to just any Naval aviator in a bar,” another breathy laugh fell from Bob’s lips as you leaned forward, the tip of your nose brushing against his. “No, I only tell all those stories to this one guy that I happen to really like. Like, a lot.”

And when Bob Floyd kissed you again, it was blissful. Gentler, still passionate, so full of an emotion that you wouldn’t ever dare to call love, not this soon. It was more like affection, adoration, a warmth that had you melting into his arms without a care in the world. You’d do anything, as long as it meant you got to keep kissing this man.

Maybe Princess Mia had been onto something with that ‘foot pop’ of a kiss idea, because this sure felt like that moment.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” Bob groaned out against your lips, hands squeezing at your hips again as you laughed, playfully leaning back to swat at his chest as he smiled down at you, illuminated by the moonlight. 

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps kissing me. I think any court of law would find you at fault for that. Also,” you quickly gestured around at your surroundings with a tilt of your head. “Hell of a setting for a first kiss. A moonlit beach in the dead of night, did you walk straight out of a rom-com, Bob Floyd?”

“In all honesty, I was going to wait until I got you back to your hotel room to kiss you and hopefully get your number,” he stated matter-of-factly. “But then I looked at you and…and you were just too beautiful not to. And I was going to kick myself in a few hours if I didn’t kiss you.”

If you were ever asked to pinpoint something you adored about Bob Floyd, his ability to make you laugh with the simplest of things would probably be your favorite. He barely even had to try, and he had you laughing like a little schoolgirl.

The entire walk back to the hotel down the beach felt like a dream sequence, like something straight out of a movie that you never believed actually happened to people in real life. Bob’s hand never strayed from yours, swinging between you both as you kicked at the sand. Every few steps, he’d push you away from him slightly, just to be able to pull you back into his side and make you laugh again.

And somehow, in the midst of the walk, you’d ended up engaged in the most spontaneous round of ‘Never Have I Ever’ questions you’d ever been part of. You and Bob had both been caught speeding during college, but Bob had managed to awkwardly sweet-talk his way out of a ticket with the female officer. You’d been skinny dipping twice before, both on bachelorette trips for two of your college friends, and you didn’t miss the way Bob had to swallow the lump in his throat at that confession (no doubt imagining it). He, in turn, had ended up having to confess the embarrassing story that was him having a crush on his high school English teacher.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around that,” you’d managed to say through your laughter that you couldn’t contain as you both approached the main doors of the hotel building. “She was at least young, right?”

“Yes, she was in her thirties,” Bob shook his head, obviously amused by how hilarious you found the story. Like the gentleman he was, he’d opened the door for you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he led you into the building. “Girls didn’t look at me in high school, okay. She always offered that I could eat lunch with her since she had a free period, and the entire school had agreed that she was objectively pretty. You can’t blame me!”

“Okay, fine, but you do have to admit it’s a little funny,” you’d offhandedly waved to the concierge, the same one who had checked you in that morning, now working the graveyard shift, before leading Bob over to the elevators. You rested against the wall, awaiting your ride to arrive, while Bob stood just barely a foot in front of you. “As for the girls: their loss. If I’d have gone to high school with you, trust me, I would’ve looked at you.”

The doors for the elevator slid open with a ‘ding’ as you quickly moved inside, back turned to Bob.

“And trust me, if I’d have known you back then, we’d be married by now,”

The second the elevator doors shut, you paused, finger hovering over the button for your floor. Turning on your heel back to Bob, head cocked to the side in amusement, you could see the realization flicker over his face as it dawned on him what exactly he’d just said.

“Oh, would we now? You saying we’d be high school sweethearts?” Bob sheepishly laughed, fixing his glasses as he looked anywhere but you. “That kind of sounded like a line straight out of Hangman’s playbook, and I barely know the guy.”

“Yeah…y-yeah, it really did, didn’t it? Might have to blame the alcohol, I-I don’t typically drink much on our nights out,”

You hummed, taking a step toward him with a growing smile as his stuttering came back for just a second, something you realized only ever made an appearance when he was nervous. His eyes were locked on you as you leaned up, nose bumping his.

“Don’t worry, I found it cute coming from you,” you leaned back to hit the button for the third floor, and the second you did, Bob’s hand was settled on your hip, pulling you back to him. Teeth gnawing into your bottom lip, you contemplated the words floating around your head for a moment, afraid that whatever was happening here was fragile and your words could break it. “When we get up there…do you want to come in?”

You had read it before, about the way a man’s eyes darkened with ‘lust’ or in moments such as this, but you’d never witnessed it. Not until now, and once again, Bob Floyd had you weak in the knees.

“I’d love to,”

“Good,” you nodded. “Just know…I don’t do hook-ups. I don’t do flings.”

“Good,” he responded with his own nod. “Because neither do I.”

“Good,”

The door of your hotel room had barely been closed before Bob was on you.

His hands on your hips guided you, pressing you up against the closed bathroom door just to the right of the room’s main door, and his lips descended upon yours as if he were attacking his target. Vigorous, relentless, he kissed you in a way you’d never been kissed before, not even like he did on the beach, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance. A wanton moan slipped out of you, parting your lips just enough for Bob’s tongue to sneak through, to savor the taste of you. You savored the taste of him, too: the lingering taste of the beer he’d been sipping all night, and the remnants of your own vanilla chapstick still smeared across his lips.

You moved in tandem, like your bodies were one with each other. It didn’t take long before your shirt was off, his lips hot, slicked with spit, dragging themselves over every inch of skin he could get his lips on. Every drag of his lips, every press of a kiss against your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts had your mind going blank, your fingers desperately fumbling with the buttons of his khaki uniform to no avail.

If you just asked, you’d let him have anything he wanted in this moment. You’d let him take you against this door, the wall next to it, the floor, the bed, hell, you’d let him lean you over the balcony railing where anyone might be able to see you both. Nothing else mattered besides Bob Floyd, as long as he continued to touch you, adore you, worship you the way he was.

In the moments it took Bob to maneuver you from the wall to the bed, you’d finally come back to yourself, able to delicately unbutton his uniform and not ruin it, before tugging it from its place tucked into his pants and tossing it across the room. The white shirt he had on beneath it was gone in seconds, too, and god, you wanted to admire him like a painting on the walls of a museum, like he was the Mona Lisa himself.

Like they say, it’s always the quiet ones. You shouldn’t have been surprised; he was in the Navy, after all. But you couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between your thighs from just a single look.

With a tiny yelp from your lips, your back hit the bed, and Bob was on top of you in seconds, drawing yet another moan from your lips. At this rate, there’d surely be a noise complaint in minutes. His leg wedged itself between your thighs, delivering just enough friction to have you squirming, while his lips locked back into your neck. From your jawline, all the way to your collarbone, Bob nipped at every inch of skin he could, blowing a short puff of air across over tender spot before leaving a searing kiss to it that felt like you were being branded. All the while, your hands roamed up and down every expanse of skin you could touch, His forearms to his biceps and every vein that ran along them, popping out from under his skin. The lean body that hovered over you now, nails ghosting along the lines across his stomach toward his chest that had a low grumble emitting from him. And in a moment of boldness, invigorated by the tension that had snapped between you both, your hand traveled lower, just barely grazing over the outline straining against his khaki pants, finally feeling for yourself just how big he truly was. And the groan that left him that time, wrecked and on the verge of falling apart, had a whole new flood of heat rushing through you.

In a show of his strength, Bob rolled you both again with just one arm. Suddenly, there you sat, straddling him as he lay below you, half naked, eyes blown wide behind those glasses, looking absolutely desecrated beneath you. The only sound that flickered through the room was the heavy pants from each of you, once again catching your breath and calming the firestorm of emotions in you both.

“So,” Bob had breathed out once he’d finally caught enough of his breath. “Y-You’re totally taking that transfer to San Diego, right?”

You’d let out a breathy laugh, swiping your hand down your face as you sent him a small smirk.

“In all honesty…I already accepted it. That was half the reason for this trip: to see my new office and meet my new coworkers. Meeting you, though…well, that’s just like the cherry on top,”

His grin was infectious, but your mind was elsewhere in the moment as you took your chance, simply grinding yourself down on the man below you with a smirk of amusement still on your lips. His smile was gone instantly, lips straining to hold in a moan as his hands gripped your hips tightly, forcing you to freeze in place so you couldn’t make that same move again.

“I-If you do that again, I’m not going to be able to stop myself,”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes, because I want to do this properly. I want to do this in order,” he huffed out a laugh. “Tomorrow, my day off. 7 p.m. I’ll pick you up. Il Fornaio, an Italian restaurant just on the other side of the island, right on the beach, with beautiful views of the water. We’ll eat, we’ll drink, and for dessert…a Cold Stone Creamery, barely a minute away. And if I can muster up the confidence to do it, I’ll make you mine before you’ve even taken a single scoop of your ice cream, because I don’t need a second date to know I want this. And then I’ll bring you back here, and then I’ll fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked, to be worshiped. God…I already don’t think there’s a single thing I wouldn’t do if you just asked me to.”

If you opened a dictionary, Bob Floyd would be painted under the word ‘perfection,’ and there was no doubt in your mind about it. Hell, he’d remembered the stupid story about your favorite ice cream shop you’d told him hours ago. You were about ready to ravish him on the spot.

“Sounds like you’ve had this planned out for hours now,” your voice had dropped into a whisper, laced with just pure awe for the man below you.

“Since the moment we first locked eyes across the bar. Had to add the ice cream bit in, later,”

And you’d laughed, something you had done all night with him. For a moment, you paused, smile stretching nervously, as something you’d been meaning to say all night, but had been stuck in your throat, was itching to finally be said. It terrified you, but you had to say it. Bob Floyd was an angel; he deserved to know what he was getting into.

“Well, that’s a yes to dinner, and everything that comes after. I’ll just have to make sure to tell my father I can’t have dinner with him after I visit the base tomorrow afternoon. I hope he doesn’t get too upset, you know how the, uh…how the Vice Admiral can be,”

It was like you’d just dropped a bomb, and you could see the aftermath in Bob’s eyes. The way he tilted his head from beneath you, before realization seemed to crawl into every feature of his face.

“The…the Vice Admiral. As in…Vice Admiral Beau Simpson, Cyclone…” it wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and all you could do was nervously nod your head as Bob let out yet another breathy laugh. “Your Uncle Solomon…Rear Admiral Solomon Bates, Warlock. Wow, how did I not figure that out?”

“Because I was really careful not to give it away,” you’d tried to laugh, nerves only calmed slightly by the little circles that Bob’s fingers were drawing into the skin of your waist where his hands still lay. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something earlier. But you were so sweet, and not to mention attractive, and it was so easy to like you…I was scared if you knew, you wouldn’t think it was worth it.”

Bob’s eyebrows furrowed as he shifted, sitting up on the hotel room bed now with you still positioned in his lap. One arm fully locked around your waist, the other taking your chin between his fingers to keep your eyes locked on him as he spoke.

“Why would I think that?”

“I dated a Navy man in college; he was a few years older than I was. He was excited for his reassignment; he was going to be training under my dad. But then, I told him that it was my dad, and he freaked. Thought he’d be treated unfairly if his superior knew he was dating his daughter. I just…I just didn’t want you to think I wasn’t worth the hassle. I know how my dad can be.”

Bob stared at you for just a moment before he pulled you into another kiss. Softer than any previous kiss the entire night, but firm, as if he was trying to drill something into you. Whatever it was, it was working, as your chest fluttered and your hands wound their way back into his hair. And barely a beat later, he’d pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, hand on your chin, cupping your jawline to hold you there with him.

“If in the end, I get you…anything is worth the hassle,”

[darksparklesficrecs]

imagine bein’ loved by me

JACK ABBOT x F!READER

Summary: Jack Abbot is a tease and a bully and an overall menace to society, and you are utterly infatuated with him.

wc: 9.2k (what the fuck)

Warnings: f!reader, resident!reader, implied age gap, power imbalance, jack is a fucking tease, he is also a dummy, tension in the workplace, an almost bar fight, pining, explicit sexual content, brief oral (f!receiving), praise, p in v, finishing inside, oh no, they’re in love

A/N: not only did this get way longer than intended, it also got way softer than I had planned oops. Anyway, y’all are gonna roll your eyes at a certain scene when my clear bias toward Robby is put on full fucking display lmfao enjoy~

He notices it the first time you work a night shift with him. 

Jack has seen you in action before. Hell, Robby has even sung your praises (a rarity). You have sure hands, follow spot-on gut instincts, and you’re great with the patients. You’ve proved that you’re competent and confident here in the EC. 

However, as soon as Jack steps into any room you’re already in, that sugar-laced smile fades. You stutter, you hesitate, your hands start to tremble. 

Initially, he thought it was because he intimidated you. It wouldn’t be the first time, but usually, if a resident is scared of Jack, they’re downright terrified of Robby who’s known to be hypercritical and harsher in his corrections (a side effect of all the stress he’s under, Jack thinks). 

That doesn’t seem to be the case with you. He’s seen how you act around Robby, professional but relaxed. You grin, high five, and Jack is pretty sure he witnessed a warm, work-appropriate side hug shared after a particularly harrowing shift. 

He comes to the conclusion that this is an issue you have exclusively with Jack, and that doesn’t sit well with him. 

He isn’t angry, just curious. 

Also, he can’t have you freezing up whenever he’s even remotely close by; that’s just not good in this line of work. 

So, in the early morning hours of what Jack knows to be your last shift before you’re off for a few days, he catches your attention and jerks his chin to beckon you over to the nurse’s station. The manner in which you look around and over your shoulders, pointing to yourself in disbelief, makes his lips quirk up on one side. 

Jack mouths the word ‘you’ while nodding and watches as you shuffle toward him with wide eyes. 

“Um, what can I—” you clear your throat, “what can I do for you, Dr. Abbot?”

“You have a second to talk?” he asks, and you swallow, head moving up and down in slow, silent affirmation. “Don’t worry. You’re not in any trouble.”

“Okay, do you… do you wanna talk here, or is it—I mean, is it a closed door conversation, or…?”

Jack just does not understand why you get so timid around him. Why is it you can laugh and joke and work with Robby and Shen, but you can’t with him? What has he done to make you so mousy? 

“Wherever you’re comfortable. We can step outside if you want, or we can stay right here,” he offers. You’re in control here. You have the choice. No wrong answers. 

“Outside?” you half suggest, half ask, and Jack motions for you to lead the way. 

It’s about three AM on a Tuesday morning. Not a whole lot of action right now, but you both know that can change on a dime. 

As soon as the doors slide shut behind him, you look at Jack in concern. “Is everything okay?” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, remembers it could come off as defensive or surly, so he drops them to his sides, except that feels awkward and wrong too. No fucking wonder Robby is always rubbing his face and holding the back of his neck. 

Eventually, Jack settles on sliding his hands into his pockets, relaxes his posture, tries not to look like a soldier standing at attention. 

“I wanted to ask you the same question.” 

You frown, not quite pouty, more like you’re having trouble solving a riddle, so Jack continues before you can catastrophize any further. 

“I get the feeling that I make you nervous sometimes,” all the time, “and I want you to know that you shouldn’t be. Nervous, I mean.”

No longer pinched together, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, your gaze repeatedly flicking to and away from his face. 

“See, that,” he chuckles, “you look like you just got caught stealing drugs.” Then, in an attempt to ease your discomfort, he lowers his voice to a conspiratorial volume and adds, “have you… been stealing drugs?”

It does not make you laugh. It just makes you shake your head urgently, “no, I’d never—Dr. Abbot, s—”

“Hey, hey, calm down. I was just teasin’, kid,” he tries to reassure you while smiling how he usually does, subtle but amused. 

If he’s being honest, though, the deer in the headlights look is kind of endearing. Unnecessary, but endearing. 

Then, Jack sees that wide eyed stare move down to the slight curve of his mouth and remain there for a few whole seconds, more than enough time for you to see that previously subtle curve lift a little higher on one side until it’s more smirk than smile. 

So, that’s what it is. 

Jack tries to clear it from his face, but it’s kind of impossible, especially when you’re able to detect the mirth dancing in his eyes. 

“I should, uh—ya’ know, actually….” You start backing up toward the sliding doors, “you really don’t make me nervous, Dr. Abbot. I think you just… I mean, no offense, but I think maybe you got the wrong idea.”

A self-conscious laugh, then a little huff when you miss the doors and instead back up into the bricks beside them. 

“Right.” 

Jack moves closer, finding too much enjoyment in your tiny gasp when he reaches out and gives you a nudge to the side before placing his hands lightly on your shoulders. 

He turns you to face the pitt, guides you through the entrance as his footsteps echo directly behind yours. 

“Of course you’re not nervous—why would you be?”

You’re absolutely rigid in front of him, even curl forward a tiny bit when Jack gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze before letting go. 

You pivot to hide your face so fast, he’s surprised you don’t tear a goddamn ligament. 

It all makes sense now, he thinks. 

You’re not nervous; you’re smitten. 

How sweet. 

•

You consider begging Dr. Robby to let you come back to days early. It would be out of line and a little pathetic, but you’d much rather deal with that fallout over the very real threat of dropping dead in a trauma room any time Dr. Abbot so much as looks at you. 

A single glance is enough to make your heart skip a beat, and he is doing a bit more than that now, so you have a feeling that your time is about to be up. 

<< Hey, how many more weeks am I on nights? 

You type up some elaborate story about splattering spaghetti all over your dry erase calendar and having to clean it, wiping away your schedule, but the more details you give, the more suspicious Dr. Robby will get. 

>> Is it not on Teams?

Damn. 

<< Missed the window to change my password, so I’m locked out on my phone. 

That seems believable. 

It takes him a while to get back to you, but you almost wish he hadn’t when you read his response. 

>> You’ve still got another 3 weeks

There’s no way you’ll make it that long. You’ll be a nervous wreck by the time you return to the daylight hours of the EC. 

>> Miss day shift? 

<< Maybe. 

<< Yes. 

You also miss working under an attending who doesn’t make you shake like a chihuahua. 

>> I promise I won’t make you stay any longer than you have to, but Abbot and Shen need the help for now

Just reading his name is enough to make something jump in your stomach. 

Three more weeks of surviving Dr. Jack Abbot as he tries his damndest to kill you. 

And, you don’t even know why he’s doing it. You can understand why he’d want to suss out the reason you get so flustered around him, but now he has it. You know he knows because apparently you are incapable of concealing your feelings or even facial expressions when you see that barely-there smile of his. 

The exact moment—you witnessed the exact fucking moment that he figured it out. God, just thinking about it has you mortified all over again. And, then he held your shoulders and he teased you and you still had to work another four hours without passing out from embarrassment. 

From the very first day, or more accurately, the very first shift change, Dr. Abbot had too much of your attention. Something about his eyes and mouth and the salt and pepper stubble and silver curls and dexterous hands and really everything about him. 

He knows that now—maybe not all the details and areas of focus, but he definitely has the big picture. 

And, it amuses him. Entertains him. It’s almost like it brings him joy to make you squirm a little. 

He isn’t preying on you, you don’t think. It doesn’t feel malicious or coercive. Just inconvenient and confusing and really fucking distracting. 

In the shifts that followed shortly after his little discovery, Dr. Abbot just looked at you longer than he did before. Sometimes you’d see the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile. Unnerving, but something you could cope with. Mostly. 

Now, he’s getting a little bolder, a little closer. Physically. Will come stand right next to you at the nurse’s station or sit at the computer nearest the one you’re using to chart. He doesn’t stare at you when he inflicts this torture. No, the gazes are always from a distance, probably with the purpose of making the back of your neck burn. Here, when he’s right beside you, he just smirks. You think he might try to hide it, but he’s not very good at it, even laughed once when you’d stood up as soon as he sat down. 

It’s just—it’s just rude. So rude. 

The worst part of it all, though, is that it’s helped steady you. You’ve stopped shaking in exam rooms, rarely stutter when giving reports. It’s like some kind of awful exposure therapy, and while it’s made you a more efficient doctor (still not as good as you are during the day), it leaves you in a constant state of mild discomfort, hot all over for twelve straight hours. 

It can’t get any worse, though. There’s no way that Dr. Abbot, revered and respected and selfless, would push things further. 

He wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

(He does.) 

•

The praise is genuine. Jack doesn’t say it to get a rise out of you; he wouldn’t do that. 

He’s watching over your shoulder as you prepare to put in a chest tube. Your hands are unwavering, nimble fingers counting ribs and controlled around the scalpel. 

In just a couple weeks your confidence in treatment has risen exponentially. He wishes he didn’t have to torture it out of you, but whatever works, works. 

Plus, it’s not like he’s not having some fun with it. You may be well balanced while performing procedures, but around Jack, you’re still wide eyed and restless. 

It’s cute, your little crush. 

Surprising, a little baffling, but mostly cute. 

Jack has been told that he has an… effect… on some women. More than he would’ve thought, and he still isn’t used to it. Fuck, he’s only just now started to notice it. 

Samira, bless her, was able to break it down for him, said he was a ‘silver fox’. Gray hair, fit, “think Anderson Cooper!”

Then, she’d let him in on another secret. 

“Your eyes are your best weapon, though.”

“My eyes?”

“Mhmm. It’s the way you stare. It makes it feel like nothing else exists. Very intense.”

She’s moved on to bigger and better things, as she should. Jack is glad she did, even if he misses having someone to explain the trends and lingo of the modern world. The pitt was never going to be big enough for Dr. Samira Mohan. 

It’s perfect for him, though. Exactly where he wants to be, especially right now as you secure the chest tube just fucking right. 

“Nicely done,” Jack tells you, still eyeing your work from behind you, catching the way your shoulders raise up close to your ears. 

He chuckles, you let out a frustrated, squeaky grunt, and then Jack gives you a little pat on the back and leaves. 

You avoid him as best you can for the rest of the night. 

Apparently, Jack has more going for him than his silver hair and ‘intense’ stares. 

Whether it’s proximity, his voice, or the words themselves, he isn’t sure. He’s more than willing to experiment to find out, though. 

The next chance he gets, Jack stands unnecessarily close to you again. It isn’t enough to raise eyebrows, really just looks like he’s keeping an eye on a fledgling doctor’s technique (which he is!). You’re a little stiff but not nearly as done with him as you were earlier. 

So, you’ve gotten used to him hovering. That’s good. 

“John got everyone lunch,” Jack says, coming to lean against the central hub beside you, voice dipped low and a tad rough. 

If you ask, he’ll just say he’s tired. It won’t be a lie. 

You don’t ask, however, just glance over at him, eyes landing on his mouth for a nanosecond before flicking back up. 

“What, did he lose a bet?” you eventually respond. 

Jack laughs quietly, “yeah, actually.”

“Typical,” you snort, “is gambling a hallmark of every EC or is it just ours?”  

He shrugs then straightens up, “no clue. Gotta find ways to entertain ourselves, right?” 

So far, you’ve seemed relatively unfazed, which is why Jack tosses you a quick wink as he backs away from the station. 

That gets a reaction, like a lightning strike that makes your spine go straight, makes you hide your face and whine, “oh my god, I hate you.”

You can’t see him, what with your head buried in your hands, so you don’t catch Jack’s smug grin as he turns around. 

“Me? What’d I ever do to you?”

He’s pretty sure he can feel your glare burning holes in the back of his skull. 

•

Robby’s birthday finds several faces of the pitt in the bar closest to the hospital. The man behind the counter knows many of you by name and therefore has a line of drinks prepared for you all without even having to be asked. 

You sip on your vodka Sprite—easy, decent taste, shouldn’t get you fucked up unless you really want to get irresponsible. 

And, irresponsible is the last thing you want to be when you can feel a heavy, hazel gaze on you wherever you go. You talk to Trinity, to Victoria, to Donny, and no matter where you move, those eyes follow you. 

It seems a little different tonight, though. Abbot usually watches you with the purpose of teasing. Now, it just feels like he’s watching to watch. 

With two drinks and little food in your system, a nice buzz settles in your head, stomach warm with alcohol and courage—not enough to talk to Abbot, but enough to make your way to the table he’s sharing with Robby so that you can wish the latter a happy birthday. 

“Unbelievable I made it through another year,” Robby says with a tired smile. He didn’t even work today, and the man looks exhausted. 

You grin sideways and tell him too honestly, “I’m glad you did,” then laugh around your straw when he blushes. 

Your eyes flit to Abbot who’s looking over at the other man, but as if sensing your attention, he redirects his to your face. 

“You can’t say stuff like that to Robby,” Abbot jokes, “one day he’s gonna get so red, his head will explode.”

“Shut the fuck up,” comes a groan from behind Robby’s hands, “aren’t you supposed to be nice to people on their birthday?”

“Sorry, were you expecting birthday kisses?” Abbot puckers his lips and acts like he’s really gonna plant them on Robby’s cheek, but he leans back when he’s swatted away, typical half-smile lifting his mouth when he winks at you as if the two of you are in cahoots. 

Robby isn’t the only one blushing now, your face hot as it always seems to be when you’re around Abbot. 

Thankfully, Cassie chooses that exact moment to slide up next to you to do exactly what you had come over here for, grabs the attention of both attendings, allowing you to slip away. 

An hour and two more drinks later finds you at the same booth. You ate the fries off Mel’s plate with the hopes of sopping up some of the alcohol, and while it probably helped, you’re still nice and fucking tipsy where you sit next to Robby, across from Abbot. With little room, you’re actually on Trinity’s lap, her cheek resting against your back as she chats with Robby, who has had enough beer to divulge a few fun stories about one Yolanda Garcia. Naturally, Trinity is eating it up. 

You listen and laugh, happy to be here, happy to see Robby actually relax, and, if you’re being honest, happy to be stared at. 

Eyes a little cloudy, you meet Abbot’s, and your stomach flips in a way that’s less to do with nerves and more to do with attraction. 

He tries and fails to hide a smirk, and you twist your own mouth to the side to keep your smile at bay, look down and laugh as you shake your head. 

You should probably put some distance between the two of you before you say or do something stupid. No way are you gonna let yourself flirt with Jack Abbot in public, especially not with Trinity and Robby so close by.

You slide from your friend's lap with the excuse of getting some water, which isn’t actually a lie. You could definitely use some, and that’s emphasized by how fucking good it tastes and feels when you gulp it down at the bartop. 

“Now, that’s impressive,” you hear from beside you, look to your right to see a man a few years younger than you who is blatantly checking you out. 

With a little frown, you tell him, “it’s not vodka or anything—just water,” immediately getting a bad vibe from this guy who’s probably named Chad or Brad or whatever frat boys go by these days.

“Shame,” he hums, “sober girls are so much harder to pick up, especially the cute ones like you.”

It’s possibly the grossest thing you’ve ever heard, shamelessly fucking predatory, but when you narrow your eyes at Chad, he just chuckles. 

“What’s your name?” he asks, either not recognizing your expression of distaste or ignoring it altogether. 

Hackles rising, you respond, “none of your business,” and turn to walk away. 

When Brad’s fingers wrap around your wrist, you round on him again, your free hand hot with the impulse to clock him right in the jaw. 

“You’re not even gonna talk to me?” he grins, “you should at least give me a chance.”

About to reply with a lecture full of expletives, Brandon lifts an eyebrow, suddenly focused on something or someone behind you. 

The way your neck prickles tells you exactly who’s just walked up, but that sixth sense does not prepare you for the strong arm that curls around your waist. 

“You need to let go before I fucking make you,” Abbot says, tone casual, his body anything but. You can feel the tension radiating from him, a loaded gun with his own finger on the trigger. 

Chadwick drops your wrist, and you flex your hand as if it’ll get rid of the residual sensation of his grip. 

“We were just talkin’, man.”

“Yeah?” Abbot’s fingers curl into the material of your shirt, and your heart starts beating faster for reasons unrelated to the cocky fucker in front of you. “You grab every woman you talk to like some kind of fuckin’ caveman?”

“Bro, chill, I didn’t mean anyth—”

Abbot cuts him off with a glare, “I’m not your fucking bro.” 

His volume doesn’t grow, voice still even, but there’s a certain strain to it, the same strain you see in the muscles of his neck, feel in the flex of his bicep. 

This shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is, and you are no fucking damsel, but having Abbot stand up for you—get mad for you… 

“Old man lookin’ for a fight?” Brayden challenges, pushing his chest out in an over the top, alpha male way that would make you roll your eyes if it weren’t for the way Abbot’s hand twitches against your hip. 

You glance up at him, that sly smile nowhere to be found as he works his jaw, tongue sliding behind closed lips like he’s counting his teeth in some grounding exercise. 

You’re about to murmur to him that it’s okay. You’re okay. He can take a breath and calm down, but then you’re joined by yet another patron, this one much more level headed than the men staring each other down. 

“Walk away, man,” Robby says, “this guy may be old, but I guaran-fuckin’-tee you, he’ll drop you. You really want that?” Brown eyes are narrowed from the way he scrunches his face up, almost cringing on the other man’s behalf. “You really wanna get your shit kicked in, in front of her?”

Chandler’s eyes flit between Abbot and Robby before he raises his hands in surrender, grumbles something about, “no bitch is worth this bullshit.”

You hear something between a grunt and a growl resonate from Abbot’s throat, his arm around you growing tighter, and at the same time, Robby takes a single step forward, hands still in his pockets, his shoulders pulling back as he bows up on the guy. 

Abbot may be able to control his volume, but Robby sure can’t, basically barks at Broderick, “what the fuck did you just say?” and you look between all three men in complete disbelief. 

What is happening? You’ve got one of your attendings doing everything he can to keep you plastered to his side while another looks like he’s about to knock this guy’s teeth into the back of his throat. 

The sense of security is, admittedly, very nice and oddly endearing, but neither of these men can afford to, a) spend a night in jail, and b) fuck up their hands. 

“Okay, boys,” you call out, slipping out of Abbot’s grip only to grasp him by the forearm (his thick, thick forearm), your other hand reaching out and curling into the back of Robby’s hoodie, “that’s enough, time to go.”

Looking at Chad/Brad/whatever the fuck his name is, you advise, “if I were you, I’d make myself really fucking scarce right about now.”

He looks between all three of you, eyebrows pinching together as he shakes his head. Thankfully, he walks away, likely swearing the whole time. 

You drag both of your bosses out of the bar, claiming, “you two need some fresh air,” then nudging both of them to lean against the wall of the building. 

“While I appreciate the whole white knight thing, you guys did not have to do that. Like at all,” said wide eyed and serious. “I know I’m probably just some baby resident to both of you, but I promise I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

Robby laughs through his teeth, turning his head to look over at Abbot then back at you.

“I wasn’t saving you, sweetheart. I was saving him from stepping into some deep shit.”

“That fucker deserved to get his shit handed to him, and you know it,” Abbot spits back. It’s the first time you’ve heard him like this, genuinely upset, and with that anger comes a different vocal inflection—his words are rough and colored with what you think might be a California drawl. 

Strange. You’ll have to ask him about that some time. 

“Not arguing that,” Robby sucks his teeth, “be really fucking inconvenient if you got hauled into the police station, though.”

Abbot releases a humorless laugh, “ever the pragmatist.”

“Someone’s gotta be.”

You watch their back and forth, caught off guard by how weird it is. You’ve only seen them interact during shift changes, and whenever they do you’re certainly not around—what, with your whole avoiding Abbot mission. 

That seems sort of impossible now. In fact, after that whole display, you don’t think you even want to avoid him anymore, and that poses an entirely new problem. 

•

Jack’s little game has backfired horribly. 

He really should’ve had the foresight to anticipate it happening, but he didn’t. Caught up in his own amusement as well as your flourishing in the EC. 

It’s all been harmless, and if you ever told him to back the fuck off, he would have. He still will. 

It’s just… it’s a lot harder to leave you alone now. 

And, he doesn’t have some savior complex, no unjustified possessiveness. The problem lies with the fact that Jack can’t fucking get your body out of his head, or really, the way it felt against his. What it felt like to hold you. What it felt like to have you let him. 

Sure, he’s had fun riling you up here and there. Watching you get all cute and flustered has brought him a little too much satisfaction, but the dynamic has changed. The rug has been pulled out from beneath him. 

The events that transpired at Robby’s birthday get-together (Jack almost strangling another human) caused a shift in you. You’re more comfortable around him, willing to engage and even banter with him, which is great except Jack experienced a shift within himself as well. 

The game has changed. The goalpost has been moved. He doesn’t care about working you up as much as he cares about making you laugh, seeing your smile, made even better if he’s the cause of it. 

He still stares, and you still catch him, but when you do his characteristic smirk is missing, replaced with a clenched jaw and the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows thickly. 

He still stands too close to you, and you still roll your eyes, but you also bite your lip. You don’t move away. Not even when Jack’s fingers brush your arm in a way that could be accidental if he didn’t do it so often. 

He does not come up behind you in the exam rooms, though. Despite having never been bothered by it before, the forced proximity that comes with most traumas lights his every nerve ending on fire—painful zaps that travel from his fingertips and spread through the rest of his body. 

He’d made the mistake only once, and it was during the shift that immediately followed that night at the bar. Jack moved close enough to look over your shoulder, ready to give feedback and praise for really any reason he could find, but an ultrasound machine getting rolled into the room and into his space had him leaning forward even more until his chest was flush with your back. 

Up until this point, you would’ve gone still, maybe curse him under your breath. Not anymore, though. No, this time, with Jack more or less on top of you, all you’d done was glance back at him, lip caught between your canines, then focus your attention back on the patient. 

He had to stay in that position for a solid five minutes, if not longer, and by the time he was able to move away from you, he’d gone through almost all of the breathing techniques his therapist had taught him. 

So, it goes without saying that this newfound desire is pretty inconvenient. 

Also, he’s fucking delusional to call it that—newfound. It’s not new at all, it just wasn’t so obvious, even to him. 

Jack has been kinda sorta really fixated on you for a while now. He’d been bothered enough to confront you about what he had thought was an issue of intimidation, then interested enough to play with you, for lack of a better term. 

Plus, he’s always found you attractive, cute when stuttering around him, beautiful when you intubate, crouched and squinting as you visualize vocal cords. Downright mouth watering when you scoff at Jack after he says or does something ridiculous (to get your attention), arms crossed with a hip cocked out. 

Enamored doe eyes can narrow into a glare in the flash of a second. Shaking hands can cut through flesh with both strength and precision. A frown can brighten into something that glows so brightly, Jack could swear he feels it in his chest. 

Long story short, he’s fucked, even more so when you ask him about it. 

“You’ve been weird the last couple weeks,” as you sidle up next to him at the central hub. 

Jack looks from the forms in his hands. “How so?”

“You haven’t been nearly as annoying lately,” you tell him with a snort. 

Feeling his mouth twitch into a smile, Jack looks back down at the papers. 

“Don’t tell me you miss it,” he teases, and there’s something oddly comforting about the way you shift on your feet beside him, a habit of yours from back when he could still give you butterflies (or so he assumes). 

“I am definitely not saying that,” you click your tongue, and Jack chuckles. 

“What are you saying then?” 

He signs the last of the paperwork, lines every sheet up then taps them on the counter, straightening them out to near perfection before turning to face you fully. 

“Does someone miss having my undivided attention?”

Your jaw falls open in offense, but a short laugh still bubbles out of you, so Jack isn’t too worried. 

“You, sir,” you jab a finger into his chest, and he burns at the tiny point of contact, “are just a little too bold, you know that?”

His mouth twists from one side to the other, and Jack can literally feel his eyes light up with mischief. 

He tries to keep it inside. Tries to stamp it down, but oh, he needs to see the look on your face when he tells you—

“You really think callin’ me sir is the best idea?”

And, it’s so fucking worth it when that stare grows into something wide, and your shoulders drop to open up your posture and your little hands fidget where they hang by your sides. 

You take a deep breath, then, without even meaning to, flip the script on him when you mumble his name—his first name— “Jack…” so, so quiet he almost misses it. 

But, he’s watching your mouth so he sees the way your lips form that single familiar syllable, and something is trying to escape his throat, a groan or a shout, he doesn’t know what. 

He can barely believe his fucking ears when you deliver the next line, just as quiet, timid as you used to be, “you have to stop teasing me if you’re not gonna follow through.”

You may sound like your former, mousy self, but you still manage to hold his gaze, meaning you see the way his mouth opens in surprise for just a moment before he quickly clamps it shut again. 

“At this point you’re just being kinda mean,” you continue. 

Jack has to exercise every ounce of his self control to keep from surging forward and catching your pouty lips with his. His hand flexes at his thigh, all five fingers stretched out then curled into a tight fist. 

“I didn’t know you were ready for me to start being nice,” he breathes. 

You’re speaking in innuendo, right? He isn’t reading this wrong? 

You make a self-deprecating sound and shake your head. “I’ve been ready for so long it’s humiliating.”

Jack doesn’t know what to do. He knows what he wants to do, but it is not an option right now, and because of that, because he can’t move to touch you, all the potential energy stored in his hands gets released through his mouth instead. 

“Sleep with me after work,” he blurts, and what the fuck—what is wrong with him? “I mean, shit,” Jack laughs at himself ‘cause if he doesn’t, he’s gonna take the stairs two at a time to get up to the roof. “Come to my house and sleep in my bed,” he tries again.

It’s still not graceful, and definitely worthy of a good, long cringe, but it’s out there, and damn, when’s the last time he felt genuinely nervous? He’s survived fucking war zones, but right now, those pale in comparison to the threat of you laughing in his face. 

“I…”

“You can tell me to fuck off,” he quickly adds. “I probably deserve it after being such a pain in your ass.”

Your eyebrows are still high, but a smile smug enough to rival his own spreads across your face, “oh my god, wait… That’s what it is.”

“What?” He’s breathing too hard. 

“All that, everything you’ve been—” you fucking giggle, and the sound of it makes Jack dumb. “Was that just you, like, pullin’ on my pigtails?”

Jesus, that… yeah, that’s exactly what it was. A schoolboy with a crush, craving the attention of the prettiest girl in the class. 

He has to shut his eyes, clenches his teeth so hard, his molars might splinter under the pressure. 

“That’s one way to put it,” words coming out clipped, as if his jaw is wired shut. 

“And, how would you put it, Jack?”

“Me being a stupid son-of-bitch, something along those lines.”

You hum, hand by your face with your index finger curled against your bottom lip. “Yeah, I’m inclined to agree.”

A few beats of silence pass, and Jack spends every one of them trying not to shake. 

Then, his whole body relaxes when you add, “I guess I could go for a nap after work.”

Oh, Jesus Christ, thank God, praise him or her or whatever might be up there. This is truly a blessing.

“Yeah?” he asks, just to make sure. 

Your smile remains mirthful, but there’s also a softness to it as you nod, “yeah.”

•

Jack’s house is a small, one story not too far from the hospital. It’s about what you’d imagine for a single man in his forties. His military background can be seen in the tightly ordered bookshelves, the sponge and scrub brush by the sink being perfectly aligned, the containers of flour, sugar, and whatever else pressed against the wall from tallest to shortest. 

You thought you would be terrified if ever given the chance to see this very personal part of him. Hell, you’d been terrified of him in general not long ago. 

Now, though… Now you scan your surroundings with a tilt of your head, taking it all in and learning new things about the man you’ve been pining over for too long. 

“You’re making me nervous just staring like that,” he says with a quiet snort. 

When you look back to him, you raise an eyebrow, “nervous, you say? Welcome to my life for the last couple months.”

Jack curls his lip over the bottom row of his teeth, looks sheepish, which is not something you’re used to. On one hand, you feel oddly validated that he’s getting a taste of his own medicine, but you’re not entirely sure you like seeing him… ‘insecure’ isn’t the right word. At a loss, maybe. 

You sigh and step toward him, extend a timid hand to take his, and he lets you, watching as you play with his fingers. 

You’re ready to explode and ready to melt. Want to scream and want to cry in relief. Confused at how you got here but so relieved that you did.

All mixed up over him, like you’ve always been. 

“I’m just trying to get to know you better,” you admit, eyes flicking to his face before returning to calloused, freckled hands. “All I’ve seen is the Jack at the hospital. Dr. Abbot.”

He hums. “That guy’s alright, I guess.”

You grin, and he can probably hear it in your voice when you reply, “yeah, but he’s kind of a badass in the trauma room, which is super fucking annoying.”

“What a dick.”

Giggling in a way you’ve never actually allowed him to see, you find him looking a little dazed. Hazel clouding over, the side of his mouth keeps twitching, smile not quite forming almost like Jack can’t feel the muscles activating, like he’s no longer tethered to himself.

“Can I shower before we lay down?” 

He doesn’t answer at first but eventually blinks a few times. “Huh? Oh, right. Shower. Yes.”

His fingers curl around yours and as he leads you further into his home, you’re wrapped in a certain comfort. This is good. You are safe. He is right.  

Those are inside thoughts, though. No reason to let him know how far gone you are. He has enough of an idea as it is. 

“Let me grab you something to wear. Is—are you alright with one of my T-shirts? And, I have… basketball shorts that should—”

“If you just have a pair of boxers, those’ll work. I don’t like that athletic material.”

Jack stares at you with an intensity you haven’t seen in a couple weeks now. You watch his throat work over a gulp, and he takes a deep breath before croaking, “yeah. Boxers. Got it.”

It’s hard not to shoot him a mocking grin, able to recognize the struggle he’s going through, but you are much more merciful than he is, choose to simply squeeze the hand you’re still holding. 

You enjoy the shower alone, inhaling the familiar scent of Jack’s body wash, his shampoo, the conditioner that keeps those curls looking so soft, and you’re hit with the idea, the excitement, that you might actually be able to feel them, run your hands through his hair, feel his stubble against your palm. 

You didn’t necessarily come here to have sex. If that’s what ends up happening, then you definitely won’t be disappointed, but you mostly followed him home to spend time with him. To learn more. And, maybe you’d get to cuddle with him. Maybe. 

Friends, lovers—whatever this may turn into will be fine with you. Jack has always been attractive to you, even with his incessant teasing, but more than that, he’s always been admirable. 

The most capable person you’ve ever met, cool in a crisis, sturdy and sure. He is a pillar, a titan, a leader, but he’s also witty and goofy and mischievous. 

There’s a reason you fell for him and a reason you keep falling for him. 

The white t-shirt he left smells like him, soft and baggy, and the boxers fit okay once you roll the waistband a couple times. Your hair is wet, and your eyes are dark from fatigue. You don’t feel particularly pretty, but the open domesticity of this whole encounter encourages you to step out into the hallway. 

You’re not here to be pretty. You’re here to sleep. And stare a lot. 

Jack’s room is right across from the bathroom, and you walk into it you find him sitting on his bed wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. He’s in the process of doffing his prosthesis, and you watch what seems like a ritual. His fingers move and massage scar tissue, and there is a voice at the back of your head, a want—to one day be the one to do this for him. To get the blood flowing again, to soothe any aches or chafed skin. 

Probably not quite there yet. You aren’t even sure he wants you to witness this, don’t know if he’s self-conscious about his leg or not.��

With this in mind, you step a little louder to announce your presence, and Jack looks up quickly, doesn’t say anything for a moment as his hands falter in their movements. 

“Uh… probably should have told you…”

You frown at him. “Did you—did you think I didn’t know?”

Mouth pulled downward in consideration, Jack shrugs, “it’s never come up in conversation, and it’s not like I’m using my crutches at the hospital.” He briefly changes the subject, nodding to the clothes in your hands, “you can toss those in the basket if you want.”

You do just that before approaching him, careful not to knock into what is likely very expensive hardware. 

“It didn’t have to come up in conversation. And, you didn’t have to use crutches for me to notice.” He regards you curiously, so you continue slowly, trying to choose all the right words. “You don’t have a limp. You don’t move awkwardly. But, there’s a certain… rhythm… to the way you walk. A kick, I guess, that one leg has that the other doesn’t. It’s really, um… it’s really subtle.”

Jack blushes, but he also smirks. You roll your eyes before he can open his mouth to poke fun. “Yes, I’ve stared a lot. Yes, I’ve watched you like a freak. Fucking sue me.”

“Do I need to file an HR complaint?” 

With narrowed eyes and extreme caution, you slowly slide into his lap, draping your arms over his shoulders, making sure not to put all your weight on him. 

He’s obviously taken aback, stifles a little cough, but his hands still settle on your waist without hesitation. 

“Do you want to file an HR complaint?” 

He’s comically quick to answer, “fuck no,” the words rough as they fall from lips you’re zeroed in on. When his tongue darts out to wet the corner of them, you shiver. 

Jack moves first, but you’re right behind him, meeting him halfway in a kiss that starts with a deep inhale. Your fingers rake through the hair at the back of his head, travel to finally, finally feel those curls, and when they’re just as soft as you imagined, you hum happily—a sound that turns desperate when Jack cups the back of your neck and somehow pulls you even closer than you already are. 

His stubble, though scratchy against your skin, is just long enough to keep from hurting, pleasurably stimulating rather than rubbing like sandpaper. 

You tilt your head, open your mouth, and Jack swiftly slides his tongue against yours, a deep grunt sounding from his chest and reverberating in yours. You don’t know what to do with your hands. Want to touch him everywhere, want to feel everything. He, however, knows exactly what he wants, keeps holding your nape while his other hand curls around your hip and guides you to fully sit in his lap, traps you there as he grinds against your core, and fuck, oh fuck—he’s hard. He’s hard and he’s big and he wants you. 

Jack swallows your little mewl, groans when you roll your hips, but breaks away from you before either of you can get carried away. 

“This isn’t,” he’s already so out of breath, and the fact that you’re the cause of it makes your body flush hot, makes your pussy ache. “It’s not why I asked you to come home with me… contrary to popular belief.”

You refuse to stop playing with his hair even as you speak, “well, I wasn’t—I mean, I wasn’t not expecting it, but it wasn’t my plan either.”

His thumb is stroking over your hip bone, very distracting as you try to keep yourself from shoving him back on his own bed. The hand that was previously on your neck is caressing your cheek, smoothing over the bone, moving to your jaw, the space right below the curve of your lip. 

“You are,” Jack swallows, huffs through his nose, “you’re incredible, you know that?” 

It takes you by surprise. Praise like that from someone like Jack Abbot is something people crave, whether they’re attracted to him or not. He’s never been one to hold back from encouraging younger doctors, one of the reasons everyone enjoys working under him, but… incredible?

“And, beautiful, obviously. Brilliant. Patient—”

“You don’t have to butter me up, you already have me in your bed,” you play, rolling your eyes as if you’re not eating this up. 

“I’m not buttering you up—I’m telling you everything I should’ve when I was too busy pullin’ on those pigtails.”

And, then, for whatever reason, he beams at you, a grin so wide and crooked that it spreads to every one of his features, changes the very shape of him. You see dazzling white teeth all the way back to his molars, and you sort of want to cry into his shoulder. 

He’s—he’s so fucking handsome, it hurts, and you can’t look at him any longer, holding his face in both hands as you kiss him again. 

And, again. 

And, again. 

And, Jack refuses to drop that damn smile, still wearing it even as he twists and turns to maneuver you onto your back. 

It’s finally happening, oh god, you’re finally getting—you finally have your hands on him, sliding under his shirt, lifting and pushing it off entirely. 

His arms, what the fuck, his arms, and his chest, his stomach, his freckles… freckles everywhere, dusting his body like one huge constellation. 

You’re so ready to worship him, only you can’t because Jack is too busy with you, mouthing down your neck to nip at your clavicle, fingers dancing at the hem of his shirt. 

Looking at you through unfairly pretty eyelashes, he questions, “may I?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, “knock yourself out.”Jack laughs, helping you sit up so that he can tug the t-shirt from your body, and once it’s off he bites his lip hard enough for the flesh to redden. “Talk about a knockout.”

Part of you wants to ‘boo’ the cheesy line, but it’s hard to criticize when he’s staring at you the way he is, even harder when he leans down to pepper kisses over your chest, sucking on one of your nipples until it hardens on his tongue, then caring for the other in the same way. 

Your tits rise and fall with every breath you take, shiny with his spit by the time he begins his descent again. 

Jack leaves marks on your rib cage, a bruise sucked into the soft skin right below your belly-button, one on each hip as he hooks fingers into your waistband and pulls the material down little by little. 

The hickeys don’t stop, numerous dark spots littering your inner thighs, each one making your cunt pulse with arousal, and once the boxers are discarded and Jack is between your legs, he examines his handiwork—bruises first, then your dripping pussy. 

Warm breath cascades over you, a few short puffs followed by a languid lick from your entrance to your clit. 

“Haah—ah—Jack, oh…”

His resounding groan vibrates through you, and you immediately find purchase in those silver curls again. 

His facial hair scrapes your thighs so deliciously, stubble on his chin and around his lips making you gasp and writhe, and you would love to hold him still and ride his face, but you want something else even more. 

“Feels, fuck, feels so good, but—” your back arches when he nibbles on your clit, soothing it with his tongue afterward, “—I want, God, please, want you in-inside.”

And, with those words, Jack fucking whines for you, eyebrows pinched together as he works his jaw, stuck between a rock and a hard place (with a rock hard cock pressing into the mattress). 

He wants to fuck you, good God, he wants to bury himself in you, but your cunt is so sweet and so wet, drenching his face and fluttering just for him. He could do this for fucking ever, quit his job and eat your pussy for the rest of his life. 

But, your hands are urging him back up your body, and Jack really has no business or desire to deny you anything you want from him. 

As soon as he gets to a certain position, one that gives you enough force and leverage, you shove him onto his back and straddle his hips, crushing your lips against his and no doubt tasting yourself on his tongue. 

“Do we need… do we need a condom?” you question, follow with, “I’m clean, I had a—a physical a couple weeks ago—”

You’re asking if he can fuck you raw. Shit, Jack is not well enough equipped to deal with this, to deal with the increase in his heartrate and blood pressure as you start working his boxers off of him. 

You slide down him quickly, but stop at his legs, and when he feels you press what can only be described as a loving kiss to the scar tissue of his residual limb, Jack sucks in a breath so sharp it might lance him right open. 

It’s fleeting, not something you draw too much attention to, but the sensation and the care will stick with him until the day he dies. 

“Healthy as a horse,” his voice cracks when he finally responds to you, and he clears his throat in the vain hope that it’ll heal his grated tone. 

Both of you stripped of every garment and inhibition you slink back up his frame, another question glimmering in your eyes. Jack raises a hand to push hair out of your face and nods. Yes. Please. I’m entirely yours. 

Your hand wraps around his cock, pumping him and making Jack press his head back into his pillows when you run your thumb over his tip to smear the precum drooling from it. 

“Gonna kill me,” he whispers, gazing up at you in awe, his jaw dropping even further when you line him up with your entrance and begin sinking down. 

Your pussy is hot and tight around him, taking Jack deeper and deeper, and the feeling of you squeezing his cock paired with the way you’re moaning for him has his eyes rolling in his head. 

“Fuck, you’re too goddamn good for me,” he groans, and he means it. “Too fuckin’ good.”

But, you disagree with a laugh and a shake of your head right as you settle onto his pelvis. 

He is fully inside of you. Sheathed. Surrounded. Buried just like he wanted to be. 

The thought nearly does him in, and Jack bucks up into you, the action making you bounce, keen, then start your own rhythm. 

Lifting up over and over, you ride him like you were fucking born to, raising yourself and dropping on his cock, then falling to your forearms to work him at a different angle. Your ass bobs up and down, and if he cranes his neck just the right way Jack can see the jiggle of round cheeks. His fingers dig into your plush skin, groping and pulling and using his grip to move you up and down on his cock. 

He’s lost to you, lost in you, and he’s fucking ecstatic about it. Uncontrolled grunts and growls leave him without his knowledge, creating a cacophony of lewdness when mixed with your melodic moans and squelching pussy. 

You brace yourself on his chest and piston your hips, the pace growing into something frantic as his cock rubs against your g-spot. 

Head thrown back, tits pushed out, nails digging into his skin, you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. 

“That’s it, take what you need, baby, I’ve got you,” he tells you, though it’s really Jack who needs the reassurance. Needs to know you won’t disappear from his grasp, here one second then gone the next. He has you, he’s holding you, and just the idea of letting you go drives him insane.

No. No. 

He coats his thumb in spit before pressing it to your clit, holds it there to apply a steady pressure for you to control more than him. 

Mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut, you cry while shifting on top of him, an endless dance that eventually has your muscles locking up, your pussy starting to spasm, and Jack can’t tear his eyes away as your orgasm builds, build, builds, his own right alongside it. 

You teeter on that edge for so fucking long, face stuck in the same expression of utter desperation as your body moves almost robotically, your lower half snapping to keep his cockhead against your g-spot, his thumb against your clit, and then, with a beautifully broken moan, your orgasm plows into you, taking Jack along with it. 

In hindsight, he should’ve asked if it was okay to finish inside of you, but he has no control as you milk it out of him, squeezing thick ropes of cum from his cock, his seed flooding your pussy until it starts leaking out around him, leaving a mess between your bodies. 

You take several deep breaths, fuck-drunk eyes heavy and locked on one another until you fall forward onto Jack’s chest. 

He wraps both of his arms around your back, fingers of one hand clasped around his opposite wrist. Your head hangs over his shoulder, face turned into his neck, and Jack angles to kiss your forehead before resting his cheek against it. 

“Mmm, that was… yes,” you say, still mindless. 

Jack chuckles, “yeah, it was.”

“Can we… is that something we can… hm,” you struggle to finish the thought, drowsiness sinking its claws into you. A 14 hour shift and earth-shattering orgasm will do that. 

Lucky for you, Jack knows what you’re trying to ask and answers, “we can do that however and whenever you want.”

He feels you smile into his neck. “Not a one-time-thing, then?”

“Do I seem like a one-time type of man?” 

You make that wordless ‘I don’t know’ sound, “how’m I supposed to know? You could just be teasing me again.”

His arms tighten enough to push some of the air from your lungs. 

“I may be a tease, but I am also” his lips brush the corner of your eye, “a selfish prick—one of my many charming personality traits.”

Instead of being put off by his half-joking, mostly serious confession, you nuzzle into him and gently suckle at a place on the side of his neck long enough to leave a bruise and make Jack’s very tired dick try to twitch back to life. 

���I really enjoy… hm, what am I trying to say? I like that—I like that you want me, I guess. And, I want you to be selfish. And, I wanna be selfish too.”

His chest rises with a short laugh. You could have anyone you set your sights on. Stunning, smart, funny, talented, Jack could go on and on. The fact that you have feelings for him, have had these feelings for longer than two seconds, is nothing short of a fucking miracle. 

“I’m yours for the taking, babe—your loyal dog. I’ll even sit at your feet if you ask me.”

He unlocks his hands from your back to rub his aching eyes, the toll of last night and this morning weighing heavy on his limbs. 

“Will you wear a collar too?” you tease, finger tracing over his Adam’s apple. 

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me shower and sleep for a couple hours.”

You do, joining Jack under the spray where he leans against you, your arm looped around his torso to keep him stable, and if he weren’t so damn exhausted, he’d probably insist on independence, but he feels like maybe it’s safe to let his guard down. Maybe he doesn’t have to surround himself with trauma or distract himself with little games. Maybe he can just be. 

With you. 

As the morning sun shines through his curtains, Jack falls asleep with your head on his chest and a content smile on his face. 

[darksparklesficrecs]

Glass Pilot ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd

synopsis: You were used to people ignoring you, never noticing what you did. But then there's the entire Dagger Squad, especially Bob.

tw: fem!reader, reader has glass child syndrome, reader's callsign is Mouse, Iceman lives because I say so, age gap (reader's 25 and Bob's 32), reader is under 6 foot (I'm sorry to my tall readers), reader punches two creeps in the bar, reader's dad own jets, mostly fluff but angst thrown in, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Something about Robert Floyd makes me want to write until my fingers cramp. Also, sorry for not posting yesterday. I was in a lot of pain and I ended up at the ER at 8am this morning. Turns out I have a kidney stone way too early in life, going to the urologist Monday to find out more.

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When you were called back to TOP GUN, you weren't expecting much from the others. You figured it would be the same it always was, you'd stay in the background, do what you were told, and never disobey orders.

It's how you got your callsign, you never spoke unless someone spoke to you, thus Mouse is what people called you. You didn't hate it, it could have been worse, but you also didn't love it. You figured most people didn't like theirs, but you also couldn't be sure.

You were able to float around the bar without people noticing you, you watched as a pilot named Bob get noticed, yet not you. You were used to it, you could even stand by the pool table and not one person said anything to you.

Not until you ended up being seen by Callie, "Mouse!"

You floated over to her, your smile making it's way on your face. She was about the only person you've met that didn't care about how quiet you were. She seemed to just like your company and you were ok with her talking to you. "Hi, Halo," you greeted her, your voice barely heard over the loud music.

You let her talk to you for a while before you walked away and to the bar. You ended up sitting a few seats away from an older man, you eyed him for a moment before realizing who he was. You wanted to say hi, to introduce yourself before what you assumed was his class the next day. But you were too nervous, you didn't want to take his attention away from someone else that might deserve it more.

"What do they call you?" You heard him ask, you turned your head to him and stared for a moment.

"Mouse, sir," you replied and he laughed while nodding. "Are you the one they got to teach us?"

"I am, Captain Pete Mitchell, Maverick," he stuck his hand out and you shook it. The conversation died and you awkwardly stood, waved to him, and left the bar. You would beat yourself up about it once you get to your childhood home, the one your parents left to you when they moved to Florida.

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You were in the back, awkwardly sitting next to someone who introduced himself as Rooster, when Pete walked in. You watched as a blond's face fell but you looked away before he could notice.

You were flying with Callie and Neil, you watched as they decided to take the tone from Pete for you and decided it was time to stop playing nice. You knew you could get in trouble for flying the way you were about to, but you once told Callie and Neil that if they sacrificed themselves, you wouldn't let it go to waste. "That's a tone, Maverick," you softly called into the radio.

He let out a disbelieving laugh, "That it is, Mouse."

You climbed down from your jet and were met with Callie wrapping her arms around your neck. You smiled as you gently wrapped yours around her waist and she laughed. "You did it, Mouse!"

You nodded as you pulled away, watching as Pete walked over to Hondo for his 200 push ups. "Let's go see this!" Neil grabbed your arm and pulled you along, you awkwardly stood by Neil and Callie as you watched Pete start his push ups and Hangman, as you heard someone call him, finish his.

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"You got Maverick out?" It was a female voice, Natasha, you met her once before. You were standing in the room where everyone was waiting for Pete to finish his push ups and pick another group.

"Oh, uh, yeah," you affirmed as Pete walked in from his push ups.

"That was impressive, Mouse," Pete told you as he walked in and you ducked your head.

"Uh, thanks," you quickly told him, moving to sit in the far corner as he called another group of pilots. You stayed in the corner, watching as everyone got interested in the next round of pilots.

Bob was watching you though, the way you played with your own fingers and tapped your palm with the opposite hand's fingers every now and again. He noticed you the night at the bar, how you walked so delicately it seemed like you were floating. How you could stand in a group full of people, yet never noticed. How the only time he saw you smile and talk at the bar was when someone interacted with you first.

He noticed how only Callie and Neil were the only people who talked to you for seemingly no reason. How you always seemed shocked when they asked how you were doing and how you would always say you were fine. Bob also saw the way you did what he did, you watched others. You noticed what they did and how they held themselves.

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By the end of the day, you were the only one to successfully get Pete out. You were up in the air for the second time, this time flying with Natasha and Bob. You took a deep breath as you heard Callie talk into the radio, presumably through the added radio in the watch room. "Mouse, show them why you're here even though you're only 25," Callie told you.

"Ok," you mumbled, narrowing your eyes and recalling the way that Natasha and Bob flew earlier in the day. You flew with the two, listening to the way Bob and Natasha called out where Pete was. You dropped, fast, before swopping up and flying straight at Pete while he tried to lock onto the others. "That's a tone, Maverick," you called, a little louder then last time.

There was another laugh, more proud sounding, "It is, isn't it, Mouse?"

Callie and Neil met you as your climbed down the ladder of your jet again. This time, the rest of the pilots were with them, and you got hugs from more than just Callie. "Holy shit, Mouse! That's twice!" Callie squealed into your ear and you grimaced.

"That's two for two," Neil told you and you pursed your lips a little.

You gently pulled away from Callie with a small head shake. "It's nothing, really," you brushed the praise off, but then there was aggressive and offended shouts.

"Woah, Mouse!" It was Hangman, Jake as you learned was his given name, that shouted the loudest. "That's not nothing, you've got Mav doing 400 push ups in one day," he told you and you scrunched in on yourself as he freely roamed his eyes over you.

You brushed the words off with practiced ease again, "I couldn't have done it without the expert flying of Omaha and Phoenix." It seemed to do the trick as the attention turned from you and onto the others, but Bob approached you as you slunk to the edge of the group.

Bob kept his eyes off you, rightly assuming that his full attention would make you a little uneasy. "You're a good pilot, I don't know why you're so insistent on brushing off praise."

His words caught you off guard, and you shrugged as you talked. "I just don't deserve all of it."

"You're the one with the tones," Bob shook his head but you only shrugged again as Pete walked back into the hangar. The group celebrating still but Pete bypassed them all and stopped in front of you and Bob.

"I was warned about you, Mouse. Told that while you're quiet and sweet, you're not the same in the sky," Pete raised an eyebrow at you and you just stared at him.

You wracked your brain for a response, "I'm just flying the way I need to." Bob looked at you as you deflected more praise, even praise coming from your instructor.

Pete raised his eyebrow at you, "I was told about that too."

"About what, sir?"

"You're good at what you do, you never disobey orders, yet you never seem to accept compliments when given," he replied and you shrunk in yourself.

"Oh, uh," you were saved from having to answer by Jake yelling over to Pete.

"How were your push ups, Mav?" Jake taunted and Pete turned to look at him.

"You say that like you're the one to make me do them," Pete said and you took the time to walk with Callie back to the locker room.

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The Hard Deck was extra packed tonight, tag chasers were everywhere. You stayed at the bar, your phone securely tucked away so you wouldn't have to pay for the bar. Penny was cautiously eyeing some of the men in a booth, you made a silent vow to step in if needed.

You two both watched them approach the young college student to your left, she had been asking you for drink advice the whole night. Her 21st birthday was the day before and this was her first time going to a bar.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing alone?" The creep got into her face and you automatically spoke up, nervousness be damned.

"She's not alone," you told him, eyeing him and his friends.

"Oh, there's enough for both of you here," he told you and you raised an eyebrow. You watched his friends close in and try to grab the girl, you didn't think before you landed a punch on the main guys face.

"Oh!" You gasped as you heard the sickening snap of his nose and watch him fall to the floor. Every head turned to you as you stood there with your hands over your mouth, you turned to his friends who looked pissed. They grabbed their friend and hauled him out, not even bothering to say anything to you or the girl.

"Are you ok?" The girl grabbed your hand and pressed her cold cup into your knuckles. The bar slowly went back to normal and you looked at Penny who just smiled and gave you a thumbs up, telling you that it was ok and you could stay.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you told her, letting her obsess over your knuckles. You had learned earlier in the night that she was a premed major and that she was always wanting to help in any way she could.

"Holy shit, Mouse!" Jake approached you with the others in tow. "You got that guy down in one punch!"

You shrugged as the girl pulled the glass away and gently pressed over your knuckles. "It's nothing, he had it coming," you told him as the girl pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

"It might be physiological but I still feel like that should help, they're only bruised," she told you and you narrowed your eyes as you saw Jake gear up to say something.

"Don't, she just hit 21 yesterday," you told him, the most aggressive he's heard you since meeting you. Jake backed off from her and you took your seat again as everyone else gave their impressed words before going back to their spots.

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Bob was getting out of his car at the same time you did the next morning, and rushed to walk in next to you. "That was impressive last night, the punch," Bob told you and you pursed your lips into a sorta smile.

"He was being a creep and grabbed Sarah, he deserved it," you told him, and Bob realized that was the closest to accepting a compliment you would give.

You ended up closer to the front, sitting behind Bob and Natasha. Callie was sitting down next to you as you listened to the others talk.

"A man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back," Jake said before turning to Natasha. "No offense intended," he added on.

"And somehow, you always manage," Bob added on from his spot in front of you.

"Last I checked, only one of us has gotten Maverick out, not once but twice, and Mouse ain't no man," Neil piped up from his spot farther in the back.

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You were flying again, this time with Bradley. There was some easy to spot tension in the way Bradley and Pete flew. You got tired of it and did something that was going to get you in trouble with Admiral Simpson.

You dropped again, swooped up, flew dangerously between the two, round to face straight down, and locked onto Maverick before swopping to the side before you collided with either. "That's a tone, boys," you announced but before they could answer, Admiral Simpson jumped onto the radio.

"Lieutenant y/l/n, my office now," he told you and you started to fly back to the hangar.

Admiral Beau Simpson was standing in the hangar with Admiral Tom Kazansky as you climbed down, you pursed your lips at the idea of how much trouble you were in. "You're a dangerous flyer, what you did could have ended horribly!" Simpson didn't even wait until you were out of the hangar to start yelling at you. You just stood at attention and took his words. "You're praises have been sung by every CO you've had, we were told you never disobeyed orders!" You wanted to tell him you disobeyed no orders, that your only order was to try and get Maverick out again, but held your tongue as you stood at attention.

"But, it was impressive and perfectly executed," Kazansky cut in, you didn't move. You just stood there and noticed your fellow pilots start to slowly gather. "Not even Mav has the guts to pull that move, where did you learn that?"

"My dad, sir," you replied and watched him raise an eyebrow.

"Your father?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is he a pilot too?"

"Not in the way you're thinking, sir," you told him.

"Care to explain what you mean, Lieutenant?" Simpson asked.

"He's owned jets my whole life, sir. F-16s that he bought and refurbished himself, he's a mechanic. I got my license at 16 and I've been flying since then. I learned that move right before basic training while flying with him, sir," you explained and saw the intrigue on both of their faces.

"Well, then, at ease, Lieutenant," Kazansky told you and you automatically relaxed your stance.

"I'm not in trouble?" You questioned and saw the annoyance flash on Simpson's face.

"No, you're not," Kazansky told you and you let your shock cross your face. "Just, don't do it again," he added and you quickly nodded. "You're dismissed," he told you and you quickly thanked him and scurried off, ignoring the looks from your fellow pilots.

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"Are you coming to The Hard Deck?" Bob questioned as he walked next to you, you were told you weren't to fly for the rest of the day but you stayed at base because you had to.

"No, not tonight," you told him, wanting to go home.

"Not even after you've kept your title as only person to get Mav out?" Natasha ended up on your other side and you suddenly wished the ground would open up and suck you in. Their had to be other people who deserved their attention more than you.

"It's not as impressive as you guys keep saying it is," you rushed out before scurrying off to your car. Natasha and Bob both stood there, dumbfounded.

"It's not either of you," Callie said from behind them where everyone else was gathered. "She's quiet, always has been. It's my she's called Mouse, you never hear her until she makes a noise. It's why her flying is impressive, she doesn't show off and she knows how to fly in the perfect way to stay hidden until she strikes. I tried to get her callsign changed to Reaper for that reason, but she's too quiet for anyone to take me seriously," Callie explained, her eyes trailing your car.

"Do you know where she's staying?" Natasha had an idea.

"Yeah, why?" Callie questioned, her eyes moving to Natasha's face.

"I think we should bring the party to her," Natasha told the group.

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You had your lips pursed as you looked at your full living room, the entire group, including Tom, as he insisted you call him, and Pete, where there. "So, you're all in my house because?"

"Because you've gotten my out three times, yet refuse to let us celebrate you," Pete supplied and you tensed minutely but Bob noticed. He was the only one who thought it was a bad idea but no one listened to him.

"I've said it's no big deal," you told him but there was a wave of disagreements from the others. "It truly isn't!" Your eyes found Bob's and saw the quiet disagreement in them. "Fine, but you're all watching this movie I want to watch with me," you told them, a chorus of ok following your words.

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"Holy shit!" Jake jumped at the jump scare from his spot on the floor with his feet thrown over Javy's legs, everyone was sprawled across your living room with snacks and drinks. Bob and you were pressed into your overstuffed chair together with Bob's feet kicked up on the empty space on the ottoman that Mickey had laid out on. Your feet where resting on Mickey's lower back, him telling you the pressure of your heels helped the pain he had. Ruben was on the floor next to the ottoman, sharing Mickey's candy you had given them. Pete and Tom were on your couch with Billy and Neil, the four were the calmest.

"Bagman, shut it!" Natasha told him from her spot on the loveseat with Callie, both holding pillows to their chest. Everyone else was thrown around the floor with various pillows and blankets you got them. You were watching The Nun, it wasn't even that scary but there were a lot of jump scares.

"Do you want more popcorn?" You lowly asked Bob, your shared bowl almost empty. He quietly nodded and you got up, you asked Mickey the same question as you leaned down to grab his empty bowl. He nodded, his eyes never leaving the TV and you walked to your popcorn maker. It was one of the nostalgic looking ones, it was pretty new and was turned on to make new popcorn for your impromptu movie night. Your parents had gotten it right before they moved out but left it just in case you wanted it.

You turned back to the TV just as another jump scare happened and shouted along with a good chuck of the others. "Oh god!" Your eyes widened as you shouted and Jake looked at you.

"I feel validated now that Mouse has been scared," he mumbled and you took a deep breath to calm down. You walked back to your seat, leaning down to place Mickey's bowl back on the ground where he's been keeping it, before sitting back down and kicking your legs up again.

You glanced around, noting the comfort you got from seeing a bunch of people who were so determined to celebrate and praise your accomplishments. You looked back to the TV, not noticing the look full of love Bob was giving you.

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The dynamic changed after that and you found yourself on the beach playing dogfight football. You were in a pair of shorts and found a swim suit top in your old clothing that still fit. You brought extra for Natasha and Callie at their request. You laughed as Bradley did a silly little victory dance but cheered the loudest when Bob won the game. "Way to go, Bobby!" You yelled as he was lifted up, he caught your eyes and gave you a bright smile.

"Bobby? I see you, Mouse," Callie told you and you gently shoved her, you had gotten used to being noticed and cared about.

"Oh, shut it," you laughed as Bob was put down. You took a deep breath as you calmed your racing heart as Bob walked to you.

"You called me Bobby," Bob said and you nodded, you could tell he was more amazed than annoyed.

"Would you prefer Bobert?" You questioned but cut him off. "Wait, too late, I'm calling you Bobert," you sing songed and he just smiled at you.

"Ok, fine, honey," he told you and you gasped as he walked away.

"You can't just call me that and walk away, Bobert!" You called after him, the name lighting laughter throughout the group.

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You started going to The Hard Deck more and people started to notice you more. It felt odd, no longer able to float around like you were a ghost. But you enjoyed it, enjoyed being included and openly loved by friends. However, you didn't enjoy the looks, the hungry and lust filled looks from non-Navy men in the bar. "You know, you're body's a ten but your face is a," the brazen man didn't get to finish his statement before the last person you expected punched him, Jake.

"Hey, that's the future Mrs. Floyd your insulting, and no one insults Mouse without consequences," Jake growled and you stood there confused but seething.

"You Mr. Floyd? Cause you could do so much," you cut him off this time, your fist connecting squarely with his jaw. Effectively popping it out of place as he screamed and hit the floor.

"Actually, that's Mr. Floyd," you pointed to Bob before pointing to yourself. "And I'm the one that just punched your jaw out of place," you hissed, gripping him by the shirt to pull him to be level with your face. He was barely taller than you, maybe an inch, and he was scrawny. Despite that, it was obvious you were strong, it took a lot of strength to punch a jaw out of place. "Now, I am going to push your jaw back in place. You're not going to scream like a little bitch, and then you're going to leave. Nod if you understand," you told him, he quickly nodded and you pushed his jaw just right to pop it in place before shoving him away from you and watching his run off with his tail between his legs.

"Damn, she could eat you alive, Bob," Neil laughed and you spun to face the others. Your hand red and angry but you were more worried about Penny walking over.

"I'm about to yell at you two, look scared and nod," she informed you, letting you two know she wasn't mad in the slightest. "You two cannot just punch a guy in my bar!" She started yelling. "I don't care that you're Navy pilots, next time I'm kicking you two out!" She added before turned and storming away.

"She flies like a pro, she punches harder than expected, yet she's called Mouse," Javy shook his head in amusement and you gave him an awkward smile.

"I also needlessly defended Hangman," you shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

"Well, darling, it was hot," Jake slung his arm over your shoulders and you gently jabbed your finger into his side. He jumped away from you with a small yelp.

You walked to the booth Bob was sitting him and took the seat next to him, he quietly hoped you didn't notice how turned on he was. "I hope Hangman saying you were my future wife wasn't awkward for you," Bob told you.

"Was it for you?" You looked him in the eyes, the first time you've ever initiated eye contact.

"No, more embarrassed that you're finding out about my crush this way," he told you, able to read the fact that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

"Good and don't be embarrassed," you gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him to your lips. It was immediately intense and breath taking and when you pulled away, you finally noticed the cheers.

"Way to go, Mouse!" Callie cheered and you smiled against Bob's lips.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You wanted to say it all disappeared, that you suddenly believed that you deserved people's attention and love. But it didn't, you still found yourself standing on the edge of a group and brushing off compliments. And worse of all, you found yourself slowly starting to pull from Bob as the mission grew closer.

It all came to a head when the mission actually happened, you weren't too surprised that you weren't picked for it. You figured that even if there wasn't favoritism with Pete and Bradley, Bradley would be picked for the effortless way he flew with the others.

You lingered by Bob, wanting to apologize for pulling away to tell him to be safe. But you didn't want to overwhelm him, so you started to walk away. "Honey," Bob gently grabbed your arm and pulled you a little away from the others. "What's wrong?"

You gently shook your head at him, "We will talk after you're back. You need a clear head for this," you told him.

"I won't have a clear head knowing there's something wrong," Bob gently argued back.

"It's just, what's going to happen to us after this? What happened if you," You looked down at the place the toes of your shoes were gently kissing his, not able to finish the question.

"You know I can't promise to make it back, but I'm going to try. And when I get back," you didn't miss the fact that he said 'when' and not 'if'. "We will make this, whatever we are, work. Letters, FaceTime calls, random trips to the other, taking leave at the same time to visit each other and go on vacation, applying to the same stations for a chance to get put together, we will work it out. That I can promise," he told you, his hands grasping yours.

"Ok," you whispered. "Just, come back to me, alive. Hurt, broken, scared, I don't care. Just come back alive," you begged, you knew he wouldn't promise, that he couldn't promise.

"I'll try, Honey, I'll try," Bob told you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before separating.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You met Bob, Natasha, Ruben, and Mickey down on the landing strip once you could. You were in Bob's arms faster than you should've been but he didn't care. He just hugged you tight and spun you to make up for the kinetic energy from your run.

"You're ok?" You pulled back, even with the nerves for both Bradley and Pete, you had to know.

"I am," he told you, easing your worries. You pulled away completely and tackled the others into a group hug.

"Mickey, get your ass in this hug," you called to the WSO who tried to avoid your grasp. Natasha was pressing her face into your neck as he hugged your waist as tight as possible while Ruben has his arms wrapped around both you and Natasha from your right side.

"What about Bob?" Mickey argued but came to your left side to wrap his arms around the three of you anyway.

"Bob," you just said his name and then his arms were circling all of you as he pressed his chest to your back. The five of you stood there for a moment, just soaking up the comfort.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Pete and Bradley made it back and you made a mental note to tell Jake good job for helping them. There were celebrations everywhere and once Pete and Bradley had their moment, you forced the two into a group hug as well.

"Just accept your fate, boys. She'll hug you until you hug her back!" Callie told them over the noise and they listened, hugging you back.

You pulled away with a small smile, you didn't say anything but you figured they got the message. You let they go about their business as you found your way through the crowd to the edge. Bob met you there not even moments later, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side.

"You came back," you breathed out, the tension you've been carrying for weeks finally falling.

"I did, I came back for you," he used his hold to turn you towards him as he did the same. His face was a little flushed from the excitement and good celebrations happening but his smile was that soft one you've gotten used to.

"You know, I could reprimand you two for relations within a squadron," Simpson ended up next to you two and you quickly pulled away from each other. "But, I'm not going to. When we get back, you two, along with the others, will be asked to stay on the North Island for the foreseeable future to train new recruits. If you take the job, I'll give you two the proper paperwork for whatever you two call this," he told you before leaving.

"Looks like fate is in our favor," you told Bob, pulling him into a kiss by the collar of his flight suit.

➽──────────────❥

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