but mr peterson i thought we were gonna study ‘we are honey, this will go with the human anatomy lesson next week okay? you get a sneak peek’ oh okay, thank you! it kinda tickles ‘that’s good sweetheart that’s good just go with it’
so who is trying to play breeding the whore Russian roulette? everyone takes turns cumming in my cunt and I'm left with the consequences nine months later
Summary: Three people, one home, and a growing tension that none of them can quite name.
Warnings: no use of y/n, slow-burn, love triangle, polyamorous undertones, drinking (very mild), emotional tension, hurt/comfort, jealousy, mutual pinning, flirtation, she/her pronouns for reader
Word count: 3.8K Part 1 Part 3
You felt like a coward, ear pressed against the door, waiting for the telltale sound of the front door locking so you could finally come out of your room. It was ridiculous how much you were avoiding them.
Sunday had been rough. The apartment was quiet when you woke up. And when you’d gone into the kitchen, eyes falling on Robby and Jack sitting at the table, Jack’s hand covering Robby’s as they spoke. You’d inched yourself back into the hallway before either of them saw you.
But Monday meant work, which meant an excuse to be out of the house and far away from the men who seemed to plague your every thought. You just needed some time to think—to breathe—without worrying that you’d turn a corner and, oh, there they’d be, waiting for your “decision.”
Once you heard the lock click, you slipped out, eyes flicking toward the clock before you began grabbing your things. If you kept up this ridiculous game, you were going to end up late for work every day. You were just about to leave when you saw it.
On the kitchen counter, in its bright orange glory, sat Robby’s pills. The ones he had to take three times a day—and only ever remembered to because you stuffed them in his bag every morning after he’d forgotten them on the counter at night. Except this time, you’d been avoiding him, so you hadn’t done that. And, of course, he hadn’t noticed they were missing.
“Oh, fuck me,” you muttered under your breath.
You rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle before bolting out the door. You didn’t really know how you were going to get them to Robby—it wasn’t like you could just waltz into the ER and hand them to him. Yet you found yourself making your way through the maze of sick people all the same.
Luckily for you, living with Robby and Jack meant you’d met most of their coworkers on various occasions. So when McKay saw you moving through the crowd, she called out your name. You gave her a small, nervous wave, to which she responded,
“You okay?” she called, her tone carrying over the noise of the waiting room.
You raised the pill bottle in your palm so she could see it. “Robby forgot his medication,” you said, a little sheepishly.
She gave you a small nod before turning to tell one of the guards to let you in. You gave her a quick “thanks” before passing through the doors of the waiting room into the ER.
Your eyes scanned the crowd, trying to stay out of the way as you looked for Robby. You didn’t want to talk to him, but you couldn’t just leave his medicine with anyone.
“Hey, sugar,” came a familiar voice.
Your head snapped toward the sound. Dana smiled at you, moving from behind the nurses’ station to pull you into a hug. You accepted it without hesitation, sinking into the comfort. When she pulled back, she grasped your shoulders, eyes scanning you for injuries.
“You okay?” she asked, concern edging her tone.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, managing a small smile. “I’m fine.”
“Well then, what are you doing here, hon?” she asked with a teasing lilt. “Don’t get me wrong—I love seeing you—but only a nutjob comes in here without needing some sort of medical help.”
“Robby forgot these on the counter,” you explained, holding up the bottle, “and he can’t not take them. So I thought I’d just drop them off before work.”
You glanced at the clock. Shit—you were already going to be late. Dana grabbed the pill bottle from your hand, stuffing it into her pocket with a knowing smile.
“Don’t you worry, I’ll get them to him,” she promised. Then, after a beat, her grin turned playful. “Unless you wanna give them to him yourself.”
“Oh, no, that’s fine,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I’m actually running late.” You started toward the door, muttering, “Thanks so much, Dana—you’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t mention it,” she said, winking as she turned back to the nurses’ station.
You were almost back in the waiting room when Dana called out again, her voice warm and light. “I’m having a little get-together at my place tomorrow! You should come!”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, text me the details and I’ll be there.”
“Will do! See you, hon!”
“Bye, Dana!”
Dana found Robby hunched over the counter in one of the quieter corners of the ER, his eyes glued to a chart he clearly wasn’t reading. She’d seen that look before—more than once, on both him and Jack. It wasn’t exhaustion exactly. It was that sort of running-on-empty haze, the one that came from too many hours, too little sleep, and way too much thinking.
She leaned her hip against the counter, crossing her arms. “You look like shit,” she said, tone sharp but playful enough to make him look up.
Robby sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Thanks, Dana. Always a boost to the self-esteem.”
She smirked. “Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. What’s got you and Jack looking like kicked puppies lately? Don’t tell me the golden boys of the ER are falling apart.”
He didn’t answer right away, just busied himself with straightening the papers that didn’t need straightening. She noticed the orange pill bottle sticking out of her pocket and dropped it on the counter in front of him.
“By the way, your girl dropped these off,” she said casually. “Said you forgot them.”
Robby froze for half a second, then reached for the bottle. “Thanks,” he mumbled, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant.
Dana arched her brow. “Yeah, you’re welcome,” she said, then added under her breath, “Though I’m guessing that’s not the only thing you forgot to deal with.”
That made him look up, meeting her eyes. She didn’t push, but the corner of her mouth curled like she knew exactly what was going on.
“Anyway,” she continued, tone lighter again, “I’m having a little get-together tomorrow night. Nothing fancy. Drinks, food, people having fun for once. You and Jack should come. Both of you.”
Robby blinked, like she’d just spoken a different language. It wasn’t that he couldn’t come—luckily, he had the day off tomorrow—but it surprised him that Dana would plan something so early in the week. It gave him a nagging feeling that she wasn’t telling him something. He was beginning to hate feeling like this all the time.
“Are we celebrating something?”
Dana shrugged. “Just… come breathe a little. You two need it. And I’ve already invited her.”
That made him pause. “You did?”
“Yup,” Dana said with a grin. “So unless you want her thinking you’re avoiding her—which, by the way, you’re doing a terrible job of hiding—you might wanna show up.”
She patted his shoulder and pushed off the counter, walking backward toward the hall.
“Tomorrow, eight-thirty,” she called out. “Don’t make me come drag your sorry ass there myself.”
Robby stared at the pill bottle for a long moment after she left, his thumb running over the label. He knew Jack would be game for a party—he always was. The real question was whether he could stand to be in the same room as you and pretend that your lack of decision wasn’t eating away at him.
By the time you got home, the sun was already sinking low behind the buildings, painting the sky in faint gold and orange streaks. It was a miracle you’d gotten home in one piece. You didn’t even remember the drive—one second you were getting into the car, and the next you were turning off the engine, eyes staring at the building before you.
The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the door, quiet in that way that wasn’t quite peaceful anymore. You stepped inside, keys jangling in your hand, and nearly collided with someone.
“Oh—sorry!” you blurted, stumbling back.
Jack’s hand shot out on instinct, steadying you before you could trip. “Hey, easy there.”
The hand that held your waist seemed to burn your skin, Jack’s touch affecting you in a way that was impossible to describe. You blinked up at him, still caught somewhere between mortified and flustered. He looked immaculate—as he usually did—hair slightly tousled, shirt sleeves rolled halfway up. Your eyes trailed over his bicep as it flexed, his other hand holding onto the door frame so that neither of you would fall. You shook your head softly, trying to snap out of it.
“You’re back late,” he said—not with judgment, just as an observation.
“Yeah… I got in late today,” you mumbled, shrugging, “so I had to stay a bit longer,” your words rushed slightly, trying to sound casual.
Jack’s brows furrowed slightly, his usual calm expression disappearing for a moment.
“Everything okay?” he asked, softer now, a note of concern threading through his tone.
“Oh, yeah. Robby just forgot his pills, so I dropped them off,” you replied quickly, trying to keep your voice steady, though your fingers twitched around your keys.
Jack gave you a small nod, finally letting go of your hip. You missed the feeling but were glad not to have his hands on you. His touch was making it very hard to think.
You wanted to say something normal, something easy. Instead, what came out was, “So… Dana invited me to this, uh, little get-together thing tomorrow.”
Jack tilted his head, amused. “Yeah, she mentioned it to me this morning.”
“She did?” you asked, immediately regretting the way your voice pitched up.
He nodded, lips twitching into that crooked half-smile that always made your stomach feel too tight. “She said she’s trying to make sure the ER staff doesn’t completely forget how to socialize.”
You laughed softly, shifting your weight. “Right. Well, um… I was just wondering if—you guys were going.”
Jack studied you for a beat longer than felt comfortable. “You want us to go?”
You felt heat creep up your neck. “I didn’t say that. I just—since I’m already going, I thought maybe I could drive. Save gas or whatever.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly trying not to smile. “You mean, ‘since I’m already going, it’d be weird if we all pretended not to know each other.’”
You sighed, cheeks warming. “Something like that.”
He chuckled, low and quiet, grabbing his jacket from the hook. “Alright. I’ll let Robby know. We’ll go.”
You nodded, half-expecting him to say something teasing, but he didn’t. He just lingered there in the doorway for a moment longer, looking at you like he wanted to say something else.
“Hey,” he said finally, voice softer, “it’s… good to see you actually talking to us again.”
You froze, fingers tightening on your keys. “I wasn’t—”
Jack’s grin widened just slightly. “Sure you weren’t.”
And with that, he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click, leaving you standing in the entryway with your pulse still racing and your head spinning.
The music thumped softly through Dana’s home, mingling with the chatter and laughter of a crowd that had clearly loosened up after a few drinks. The patio was a mix of nurses, med students, and a few older doctors. Warm string lights were strung overhead, casting a gentle glow over the scattered groups of people.
You were perched on the edge of a patio chair, laughing along with some of the younger med students,who had clearly decided that talking to you was far more fun than the conversation they’d been having ten minutes ago. Their energy was infectious, and for a little while, you let yourself forget about the tension back home, letting the small bursts of laughter and teasing draw a genuine smile from you.
A few feet away, Jack leaned against the railing, beer in hand, his eyes flicking toward you more often than he cared to admit. Robby stood by him, nursing his own drink, arms crossed loosely, watching your movements with that quiet intensity he always carried. Both of them were silent, but their thoughts were anything but—each laugh you let out, each gesture, tugged at something they weren’t ready to name.
You were talking with one of the med students about some ridiculous patient story when a familiar voice called out, “Hey, you.” Santos had appeared beside you, smiling in that easy, teasing way she always did. “I need a favor.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of favor?”
Santos glanced toward Whitaker, who was awkwardly shifting his weight near the center of the patio, clearly hoping no one would notice him. “I need someone to get him to dance. He… well, he’s terrible at this. I tried. He won’t listen to me.”
You laughed softly, glancing at Dennis. “Yeah… that looks rough.” You turned back to Santos, shrugging. “Alright, fine. But you owe me.”
Santos gave a relieved laugh and stepped back. “Deal.”
You approached Dennis slowly, letting your calm energy guide him. “Hey… it’s just a little dancing. Nothing scary,” you said softly, holding out your hand. He hesitated, eyebrows raised, then, with a small nod, took it. Slowly, his movements became less stiff, his shoulders relaxing as you guided him through a few simple steps. His awkward grin made you smile, and soon, he was genuinely enjoying himself.
From the railing and side table, Jack and Robby watched quietly. Every subtle laugh, every soft movement of your hands, every encouraging word you gave Dennis made something pinch at them both.
Santos joined you after a while, and soon enough you were dragging people into the middle of the patio. Samira shook her head as you gestured for her to join, but you weren’t taking no for an answer. You made your way to her, grabbing her hands as you shimmed your shoulders. She laughed, giving in to your enthusiasm and joining the others.
Jack leaned against the railing, nursing his drink, eyes flicking toward the middle of the patio. The sight of you smiling, laughing softly as you guided someone else through a moment you could have easily taken for granted… it hit him with a little pang he wasn’t ready to admit. He caught Robby’s gaze lingering a little too long on you, and the faint pinch in his chest mirrored his own.
“You should go dance with her,” Jack said casually, tilting his head toward Robby.
Robby blinked, surprised, turning to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Jack replied, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Go… get in there. She’s having fun, and you look like you could use some fun too.”
Robby’s brows furrowed. “Wait—aren’t you the one who—”
Jack waved a hand, shrugging with mock innocence. “I’m just… evening the playing field,” he said smoothly.
Robby’s surprise deepened, his lips parting slightly. “Fair game, huh?”
Jack gave him a pointed look, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah. Don’t overthink it. Just… go. Before I change my mind and steal her back.”
Robby let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head, but the faint warmth in his chest betrayed him. He downed the last of his beer, set it on the side table, and started toward the patio, each step bringing him closer to you.
The music had shifted to something faster, the kind of beat that made everyone’s shoulders move without thinking. You were laughing, letting yourself get carried away with the rhythm, spinning with Samira and dragging Santos into your orbit.
You didn’t notice Robby approach, far too focused on the music to realize that he’d been watching you, trying to keep enough distance so that he wouldn’t crowd you.
“Mind if I step in?” he asked, his voice low and casual, almost fumbling over itself, the words betraying his nerves more than he intended.
You paused mid-spin, looking up at him. You caught the way he hesitated, not knowing if he was overstepping—wondering how close he could get to you without you ripping a piece of his heart out. It took you a moment too long to answer, and Robby had already braced himself for you to tell him you didn’t want him near.
“Sure,” you whispered, surprising him.
Robby shuffled awkwardly beside you, clearly unsure of how to match the beat. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and light against the hum of music and chatter around you.
“Uh… am I doing this right?” he mumbled, eyes flicking up to yours, a mix of hope and nervousness written across his face.
“Just… follow me,” you said with a grin, letting your hands rest lightly on his shoulders to guide him. Almost unconsciously, your palms pressed against him, subtly nudging his movements to match the rhythm. He relaxed a fraction under your touch, and soon his steps weren’t so stiff, his shoulders loosening as you moved together.
The music carried you both forward, and after a moment, you leaned your head against his chest, letting the simplicity of the moment settle between you. Robby tensed for a second at the action—he hadn’t expected you to want to be near him, not after your conversation on Saturday, not with the way you’d clearly been avoiding him. But he told himself to calm down, to enjoy the moment while it lasted.
From the railing, Jack watched the scene unfold, leaning on the side table, a faint smirk on his lips. That little pinch in his chest returned, but he let it slide, knowing this—seeing Robby get a chance to be near you—was exactly what you both needed. Even if it made his heart ache in a way he’d been trying to hide for longer than either of you knew.
His eyes trailed over you, catching on the way your eyes closed as your head rested on Robby’s chest. And then there was Robby, wide-eyed, desperately trying not to show how nervous he was. Jack knew the feeling—it was the same he felt every time Robby touched him.
It was late but the party was still going strong. Laughter still floated through the air, but it was quieter now, mingling with the clink of glasses and the occasional pop of a cork.
You felt the tipsy warmth crawling up your chest, your limbs heavy from spinning and laughing, your cheeks still flushed from the rhythm and the lights. Robby was off near the patio railing, deep in conversation with Whitaker, listening as the younger man talked animatedly about something you couldn’t quite catch.
Inside, the living room was quieter, a small couch tucked near the window catching the glow of the string lights outside. You padded over, your steps uneven but steady, and slid onto the couch. Almost immediately, you realized Jack was already there, leaning back casually, one arm draped over the backrest, a half-empty can in his hand.
“Mind if I join you?” you asked, voice soft, barely above the music that still filtered through the open doors.
Jack smirked, tilting his head. “Please. I was starting to get bored of talking to myself.”
You laughed, settling against the cushions, careful not to press too close.
“Yeah… dancing can be exhausting,” you admitted, a small sigh escaping you.
He gave a quiet hum of agreement, watching you with that easy, unreadable expression that always made your pulse skip.
“You’ve been running the floor all night,” he said casually, though the slight lift at the corner of his mouth betrayed the amusement in his voice. “Looks like someone’s having fun.”
“I am,” you said, leaning back slightly. “But… I’m tired. A little tipsy.” You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t realize how much energy it takes to drag people around like a… like a pied piper or something.”
Jack’s smirk widened. “I’d follow you anywhere,” he said softly, almost offhandedly, and then cleared his throat. “Even if it’s just to watch you get people to dance.”
You glanced at him, the corner of your lips twitching in a half-smile. There was a beat of quiet between you, a comfortable one, where neither had to speak. Then your eyes drifted toward the patio, catching Robby in mid-laugh with Whitaker. Something pinched at your chest, a little pang you couldn’t ignore.
Jack’s eyes followed yours, subtle but deliberate. He didn’t say anything, just shifted slightly so his shoulder brushed yours, his gaze flicking toward Robby. The tension in the air was soft but tangible, like the quiet hum before a storm.
“What if… we didn't choose?” you murmured, almost to yourself, voice low, carrying just enough for Jack to catch it.
Jack blinked, surprised, the faintest flicker of recognition in his eyes. It wasn’t just what you said—it was the words you’d chosen. “What if we,” not “I”, “we”. Jack’s gaze flicked back to Robby almost unconsciously, causing you to pause and take in his side profile for a moment before his eyes returned to yours. And when they met, you gave him a soft look that said everything he needed to know. Because yeah, maybe Robby didn’t notice—the lingering glances, the subtle touches—but you did. You’d read Jack like an open book, and somehow, he couldn’t even be mad at you for it.
You inched closer, allowing your head to rest against Jack’s shoulder, your arm slipping around his as you nuzzled into his frame. He accepted the gesture, leaning his head gently atop yours.
“Maybe it’s a possibility,” you murmured softly, almost hesitant, letting the words hang between you like a quiet question and a promise all at once.
Jack let out a slow breath, barely more than a whisper, almost to himself. “Yeah… maybe it is.”
He had closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of your proximity, and because of that, he didn’t notice Robby’s gaze lingering on the two of you. He didn’t see the way Robby’s eyes widened, the moment his brain finally pieced it together.
There was no fair game. It was impossible to level the playing field. No matter who you chose, everything would shift—the careful balance the three of you had built would crumble.
And then it hit Robby. He hadn’t been dreading not being picked by you—he’d been dreading the idea of you having to choose at all.
Jack’s eyes opened. Their gazes met. For a moment, Robby saw it: the vulnerability Jack usually masked behind that crooked grin. In that single, fleeting look, everything crystallized. He didn’t want to lose either of you. And the only way that could ever be possible was if you didn’t choose.
If none of you had to.
And for a moment, Robby let himself accept the possibility, his face basked in the glow of the string lights, his chest feeling lighter than it had in days.
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