i know i've written this before, but as i am preparing for several beach/water vacations this summer: rabbot beach day.
jack in the tiniest shorts he can get away with (not just because he likes to feel sexy and have robby stare, but because he runs hot and too much clothing bothers his skin and when in rome, you take your clothes off at the beach, you know? and he tries to get as tan as possible whenever possible.)
robby having to be bullied into taking his shirt off. receiving a scandalized groan from jack when robby freely admits he was planning to leave his shirt on and stay under the beach umbrella the entire time. staying on the beach chair with his detective novel and his sunglasses on and maybe a popsicle, maybe a little virgin fruity drink with am umbrella in it, some excuse for jack to stare at his lips.
jack is a fish. sometimes the stares on his prosthetic (a special one for swimming) make him squirmy, sometimes they make him angry, sometimes he decides he is not going to let them get to him today, that nothing is going to put a damper on his day at the beach with his man. he swims until his arms are too tired to go another inch, and makes sure to wait until robby's watching before rising from the waves like a mermaid.
doesn't matter that robby's wearing sunglasses, jack has known and loved him for thirty years, he knows what it looks like when robby's trying to pretend he's not staring at jack dripping water.
once jack tires himself out, covered in sand and his curls even curlier than normal from the water, flushed from exercise and a bit of sunburn on his cheeks (oh, and most of the reason jack begged and bullied robby into taking his shirt off was so he could rub sunscreen into robby's skin) he plops down onto the blanket beside him, out of breath but grinning wildly.
robby looks at him over his sunglasses, prescription reading sunglasses, something jack teases him endlessly about. "you gonna get in the water?" jack husks, kinda hoping robby will pick him up and toss him in.
"you gonna sit still for a minute and just listen to the waves?" robby counters, shuffling off the beach chair to lay beside him on the towel, on his side, staring into jack's eyes. pretending like it isn't a crowded beach with all kinds of other people around. pretending like they're the only people in the world.
"i guess i could be convinced," jack mumbles, ready to take a nap, grateful for the umbrella as he turns onto his stomach to hide his eyes in the crook of his arm.
robby takes the opportunity to slap his ass in the tiny swim shorts, of course, and stands up to get them some snacks. jack will nap, robby and jack will share a bag of overpriced popcorn and gossip about the people passing them by, about the couple arguing next to them about who forgot the sunscreen and who made them late.
jack will kiss the ice cream taste out of robby's mouth, later, when they go for a walk holding hands on the beach, stopping at an ice cream truck, which robby pretends not to want because that's for kids, but jack buys him one just to make him smile. "you deserve it, sweetheart," he'll say, entirely sincere, kissing robby's cheek with a hand on his back.
they'll pack up together and bitch about sand in places they didn't know sand could gather, they'll get home and fall asleep immediately at seven PM in each other's arms (because there is science behind why the beach tires you out, yes, but also they're old men in love who are chronically tired and eager for a sleepy cuddle.)
the next day, robby will trace jack's new swim shorts tan line with his tongue, line his hipbones and the v of his crotch with hickeys right where the water was kissing him, mumbling praise about his perfect mermaid, about how jealous robby was of his shorts in that moment, about how lucky robby is, how much he loved seeing jack's happy smile after swimming, the one that could end wars and save lives as it has many times before...
but right now, they just close their eyes together and listen to the waves, where there's peace, where their heads can't be louder than the sound of the ocean.
as always happy pride to people that are not out. happy pride to people that dont plan to come out any time soon. happy pride to people for whom it is not safe to be out. happy pride to people that live in a homophobic environment and happy pride to people from countries that criminalize queerness
This was inspired by those stories you hear every now and then, where a married couple are going through childhood photos and discover that years before they properly met, they just happened to have both been in the same place, at the same time, and, as it turns out, even ended up in the same photo.
Or, Robby raids Jack’s embarrassing childhood photos and spots some surprisingly familiar faces in one of them.
(the rest of the baby!Jack unfortunate childhood photos are below the cut for those who are interested. Because I had too much fun sketching them 😂)
Robinavitch is an idiot for not realizing that all he has to do is ask, and Jack Abbot will swaddle him in some hospital sheets so tightly that he won't be able to wiggle free, and leave him in his bedroom with an Enya cd playing on repeat until he feels better.
For Robby, a hug from Jack is almost too overwhelming to really feel good. There is the proximity, the warmth, the strength, the others' smell, the touch, the care that is so evident through it all.
For Robby, each hug stays with him for much longer than he knows it should. They touch something deep within him that he tries to bury day in, day out.
For Robby, each hug is like a reminder to himself that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he fights, he is still broken. Beyond repair.
To Jack, they're everything.
To Jack, they serve as a way to connect with the one person he couldn't bear to lose anymore.
To Jack, they're a reminder, a fucking neon sign screaming: This one. It's been this one for so long!!!
To Jack, they feel like the one time Robby doesn't actively try to slip through his fingers. Stops performing. Stops being Chief Attending Robby and truly becomes Michael Robinavitch.
Something that Jack has learned to treasure more than most other things.
To Jack, every hug is practice for the one he's terrified he won't get to give anymore. The one that would be too late.
Then there are the ones that mean something different to each of them. Those long ones, where neither of them really wants to let go first, yet fears to hold on for too long after all.
To Jack, those are an answer. The message of 'Still here. Still mine to hold on to.'
For Robby, they're a question he doesn't know how to stop asking himself. 'Why does this feel so much like home, when it's nothing I deserve to have...'
The ones that happen after a bad shift. Jack's hand on the back of Robby's neck, pulling him in without asking.
For Jack, it's nothing but natural behavior that almost happens on its own, whereas to Robby that's the most comforting and terrifying gesture at once.
After all, Michael is more than aware of the fact that somewhere, underneath all that careful burying of his emotions, he knows that Jack's arms are the only place he doesn't feel scared.
They don't tell you this but besides the Beloved Mutual there's also the Longterm Follower who you don't follow back but they're always in your notes and you're kind of watching them. Checking on the longterm follower's bio every so often like turning over a log. She's trans now good for her
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