Fruits

22 They/Them Aroace Silly Goose Background by @Adamrosssi (IG)

[fruitsandcheese]

Hey there, I'm Fruits!

I'm 22 and use They/Them pronouns

My blog is 18+, minors please see yourselves out

Very much into The Pitt rn, particularly Hucklerabbot and Rabbot.

I am chronically ill and semi-frequently talk about that. These posts are always tagged #med stuff

I'm really, really bad about tagging stuff. If untagged NSFW on your dash is not your vibe you should not follow me

I hope you enjoy your time in my little corner of the internet 💚

[dr-hucklerabbot]

thinking about hucklerabbot aging… especially rabbot… i believe these are NOT men that would accept their aging with grace.

they only go to their doctors appointments (“really den, we ARE doctors, we don’t really need to go see another one…”) because dennis asks them to and they can’t say no when he looks up at them like 🥺 “i just want to have as much time with you as possible so i need you to be healthy and stay alive”.

dennis goes with them to their appointments and usually it’s all three of them because of course they are invested in each OTHER’s health just not their own! they silently (robby) or not so silently (jack) judge what the doctors say like 🤨 “my kidney function is fine thank you very much i was just a little dehydrated”. (it’s part denial and part actual valid interpretation of data).

but eventually something scares them—maybe an enlarged lymph node that could be cancer or a cold that turns into pneumonia that turns into sepsis. and it starts to hit rabbot that they’re getting old. they can’t do what they used to anymore. they’re not going to be able to work forever. and they’re not just grieving for themselves that “hey life is going to look different now,” but they’re also grieving for the time that they’re not going to have with dennis. they’re not going to be able to come with him to all HIS doctors’ appointments as he ages. they won’t be able to squabble over HIS blood pressure medication. they won’t be able to hold HIS hand when he gets tough news about his health. they won’t be there when he has to move into assisted living or when he signs his DNR or when he breaks down because he’s scared of dying alone.

anyways!

[puppydogwhitaker]

thinking about EMT dennis being at pittfest…

robby felt better letting jake go without him when he found out dennis was working it. dennis had said something about needing the extra money.

it was a little ridiculous. dennis wasn’t even ten years older than jake, but he was brilliant and nosy and more mature than robby ever was at that age, for sure.

when robby was alerted about the shooter, his first thought was jake, his second was dennis, his third was how the fuck am i going to get us all through this?

when jack walked in, and robby collapsed into his arms in front of everyone, robby whispered, “they’re there.”

jack squeezed his husband. “i know. i tried to call jake, but the towers must be jammed.”

robby almost started crying right then. jake. poor jake. he stepped back and shook his head, not leaving jack’s space to say, “dennis, too. dennis is working it.”

“what?” jack stilled, his fierce compartmentalization he’d been steeling in the car ride over had slipped. “are you sure?”

robby shut his eyes tight and nodded. “i gotta go organize some things.”

“yeah, yeah,” jack responded in a daze.

they’d never really talked about dennis before. he was a favorite dinner topic, sure, but there was no acknowledged importance. neither of them had the balls to bring it up.

he had a special place in their hearts, and they could only hope dennis’s was still beating.

[puppiegracie]

as much as I love the concept of dennis sleeping in robby's bed while he's away my dennis is far too polite. he feels weird about it, too weird. he ends up curled fetal on robby's couch, holding himself, shivering a little. he doesn't even bother with a blanket.

robby gets home early. two months early and 2am early. it's dark out, and he's tired— he's never not tired. a bone-deep exhaustion he just can't shake. couldn't shake it on the road, couldn't work up the courage to hurl himself off a roof or a cliff or something that would end this endless exhaustion for good. he did something he's gotten embarrassingly good at, he gave up.

he assumes dennis is sleeping at the very least, most likely not even there. dennis probably stops by once a day to water a couple of dying plants, make sure no one has broken in overnight. easy enough. of course, dennis was welcome to stay. welcome to anything, his food, (not that there's much of it) his bed, anything he wanted. robby half-expected him to get the house. half-expected himself to never come home.

knew that he was never gonna do it. too pussy, too weak, maybe. he'll make excuses, say PTMC needs him, (what a joke..) that his colleagues would miss him, something, anything. but the damned truth is he just couldn't fucking do it.

robby eases his front door shut, toes out of his boots, sighs heavy through his nose. when he pads into the living room he's shocked to make out a form in the dim light, the rise and fall of breathing, dennis. god, of course. robby should've given him some sort of express permission, do whatever you want, sleep in my bed, wear my clothes, use my shower.

not like— not like that. even though robby's chest feels weird at the thought of it, dennis in his clothes... smelling of him... nuzzling into sheets he's slept in. fuck. robby's always been a fucking pervert when it comes to his adorable intern with the biggest, saddest eyes, but knowing it feels a little better. self-awareness and all that. the kid is just so sweet, so eager, so... he looks up at robby like robby means something to him.

just— dennis should've been comfortable. he knows the kid, always scared of imposing, taking up too much space, being too much. a tendency to curl into himself, even months later with a new edge of confidence. robby knows his mattress is a hell of a lot nicer than his couch, at least.

for a moment he considers if he should leave the little thing all curled up, sleeping, unaware. but robby is a selfish man. and he'll pretend that it's for dennis, that he's thinking about how achy the poor kid will get from sleeping on the couch, but he knows it's not true. robby is fucking tired. and he wants. he wants dennis in his bed, in his arms, sleepy and sweet, something whole, something innocent. someone who likes him. who cares about his opinions and his praises, craves them, even. fuck, yeah, robby's a selfish man. but he knows it. he's aware.

ignoring the protest in his back and knees, he scoops dennis up in the cradle of his arms, grunting at the muscled weight. dennis is short, compared to him at least, and robby fucking loves that more than he should— how small dennis can seem in comparison to him— but he's not exactly tiny. especially not since his return from rotations, with those pretty, sculpted arms robby keeps peeking at every time he offers a job-well-done fistbump.

fucking pervert.

dennis stirs a little, snuffles in the crook of his neck, and robby feels like crying. it's the most intimate he's been with someone in years, it feels like, even though he picked up a girl in a bar on the road just a week ago, gave her a good night. picked up a guy, just a couple days before that. robby's good at flirting, good at sex, good at impersonal.

this feels different. dennis's warm weight, the gentle smell of coconut shampoo, the softness of the dirty blond curls against his chin. this is someone he cares about. and dennis is clinging to him in his sleep, whining a little in the back of his throat as he's laid down on robby's bed. yeah. robby feels like fucking crying, even though he'd never just let himself. he spends most of his time trying not to cry.

but, he lets himself have this. shushes dennis's soft whines, crawls into bed and curls up close, gritting his teeth as dennis takes so easily to it. nuzzles up like he's trying to burrow into robby, shuddering like he's unused to touch, unused to the warmth of another body. robby squeezes his eyes shut and lets himself drop a kiss to the top of dennis's head, breathing him in deep til his shoulders loosen a bit. god, how long has he wanted this? feels like forever. maybe always, in some capacity. someone sweet and forgiving, warm and soft, cuddling up into his chest like robby could ever be considered "safe."

someone staying, as if robby could ever be anything but abandoned.

dennis whispers robby? against his throat and robby tenses up, scared that this safety bubble is popped, that everything's broken, that he's fucked it. that he only had paradise for a moment before it's snatched from his grip all over again.

he might as well give into it while he can. talk to dennis like he does in his head, treat dennis like he fantasizes about on lonely nights. so he hums soft, starts rubbing circles on dennis's back, cuddling him somehow closer as he coos shh, you're okay, baby, you're alright. you're safe, sweetheart. go back to sleep.

robby resigns himself, waits for the other shoe to drop. waits for dennis to realize what's happening, to wrench out of his grasp, maybe yell at robby for holding him, touching him like this without even asking. innocent, maybe, but intimate, too intimate. inappropriate. so robby waits.

dennis only rubs his cheek against robby's shoulder, tucks his face into robby's neck, body going lax with an adorable little yawn. mm, he murmurs, soft, sleepy. your bed's nice. I missed you.

this time, robby does cry.

[thefuzzzz]

Dennis who is crazy touch starved and just. Does not notice. He’s been cuddling pillows his whole life and wanting for something that he couldn’t name, so he figured when he finally got with Jack and Robby that the feeling would go away. It, stubbornly, did not. Whatever itch it was remained unscratched.

Jack and Robby, oblivious to this, were trying to let Dennis ease into the relationship. The two of them had been together for years, and had kind of forgotten what it was like to be new to a relationship. So, if Dennis didn’t explicitly ask, they didn’t do a whole lot of physical touch. But, he rarely asked.

Robby was sitting on the couch with him one night, Dennis curled up against the arm of the plush fabric and his legs bend by Robby’s side. Robby’s hand brushed his knee, and his leg extended to lay across his lap. A little amused, Robby rubbed his leg and watched him absolutely melt into him.

Then, Jack had a similar experience. They were in the kitchen together, he he just needed Dennis to move over a bit so he could get into a drawer, so he guided him to the side with a hand on his back and hip. Dennis blinked up at him and leaned into his side, pressing their ribs together. Jack chuckled, “Sorry, baby, just needed you to move.” Dennis’s cheeks flushed and he shuffled to the side. Jack was sure to run a hand over his spine a few more times that night.

It all culminated one night as the three were lying in bed together, trying to sleep. Dennis was kinda wiggly most nights, but tonight especially he just couldn’t get himself comfortable. Jack patted his arm. “Sugar, get comfy. Bedtime.”

Dennis gave an annoyed little whine and pushed his arm up into Jack’s hand. Experimentally, he wrapped his whole arm around Dennis, who snuggled into it.

“Is that what keeps you from tossing and turning?” Robby hummed. “Cuddles?” He wrapped Dennis up in his arms too and watched the boy fall asleep within the minute.

From then on, they didn’t hold back with the touching.

[permanent-fire-hazard]

rabbot angst prompt -- how do you think the first morning robby found jack on the roof, on the wrong side of the railing, went down?

Ty for the prompt moot! I hope you enjoy ♥️

TW: mention of past suicide, and present suicidal ideation

(this can also be read on ao3)

The first two years Robby was at PTMC, he only ever went to the roof when patients were brought by helicopter. It never occurred to him to go up otherwise.

In his third year, a med student threw themselves over the edge. He can still hear the horrible, wet crunch of them hitting the pavement.

There was no saving them. Only gathering their remains before anyone else had to see, and getting back to work. A week after the death, Robby forced his shaking legs to take him to the roof, where he peered over the edge. He was met with a terrifying distance to the concrete and scurried back behind the barrier, heaving with one hand secured on the wall.

That was ten years before Dr. Jack Abbot joined their night shift. Robby likes Abbot. Doesn’t know him too well, but he’s always friendly at the handoff. Robby takes a quick sweep of the ED, and no night attending in sight.

“Where’s Abbot?”

Dana doesn’t bother to look at him, already taking in the information left for her at the desk. “Roof.”

In the past decade, Robby had become comfortable going to the roof for patient needs, but the nausea of looking at the ground from above hits him again now. “The roof?”

“That’s what Lena said.”

Robby manages to walk casually to the stairwell, but once the door is closed behind him, he races up the stairs with the energy of someone half his age. He bursts through the roof door, huffing and panting, right in front of Abbot.

“Whoa,” he laughs. “Where’s the fire?”

“I— You— Dana said,” Robby gasps. It takes an embarrassing amount of effort, but he sucks in a breath. “Dana said you were up here.”

“I am,” Abbot smiles. “‘Up here.’” There’s half a cigarette left between his fingers; he takes a long drag. “I’d offer you one, but you look like it’d kill you right now.”

“No,” Robby says. His breathing finally returns to normal. “I’m trying to quit.”

“Ah, me too.” Abbot holds up the cigarette. “I’m failing, obviously.”

“Rough night?”

“Not particularly.” Abbot stomps out the butt on the ground and shrugs. “But it was wall to wall, you know? Couldn’t piss until 6:30, or smoke.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“You come up here often?”

Abbot smirks, “I’m a married man, Robby.”

Robby’s frustratingly easy blush blooms on his cheeks. “You wish.” He wasn’t flirting, but now that it’s been implied, he can’t help but notice how handsome Abbot is. Robby pushes the thought from his head; he’s married.

“Not infrequently,” Jack answers. “Every now and then. If I smoke downstairs, I’m more likely to get dragged back into work. Plus,” he gestures behind him, “take in the view.”

For the first time ever, Robby does. Pittsburgh looks beautiful cast in the morning light. Looking out isn’t nearly as sickening as looking down. “Could be worse.”

Another sly grin forms on Abbot’s face. “I say that to my patients all the time.”

Years pass, and the roof becomes something of their own little clubhouse. They meet there for a quick chat between shifts or a sneaky cigarette. They hold each other through hard losses and miraculously saves. Abbot becomes Jack, and he slowly carves an unprecedented space for himself in Robby’s life.

And then his wife dies.

Jack takes all full month off work. He drains all his PTO after using the scant bereavement leave PTMC provides, and doesn’t return any of Robby’s calls. When he finally does return to the hospital, his handsome face has dropped to a gaunt caricature of itself. Robby knows better than to ask stupid questions like, “Are you okay?” So instead, he ushers Jack to their spot and holds him as he cries against Robby’s shoulder.

The months trudge on. Some better, some worse, but Jack always makes it through the night.

One cold winter morning, Robby is running late, which wouldn’t be a big deal except that when he eventually does tumble into the ED, Jack is nowhere to be found, and they’d agreed a week ago it was too cold to be up there.

Robby impatiently takes the elevator in an attempt not to worry Dana by beelining for the stairs. The torturously slow ascent raises bile in his throat with each passing floor.

Cold relief pours over Robby at the sight of Jack’s silhouette in the distance.

“Jack!”

The subtle movement of Jack looking over his shoulder is the only answer he gets. The sharp December air bites at Robby’s skin as he approaches. He’s on the wrong side. Robby’s best, possibly only, friend stands on the thin rim of concrete, trapped between the metal hurdle and death. The wind threatens to knock him to the ground.

“Jack?” Robby whispers. He fights the instinct to grab his collar and yank him to safety.

“There was an accident,” Jack rasps. His voice thicker than even decades of smoking could create. “I was working on this guy for hours, but I couldn’t save him. I didn’t even get close. Just left his wife hanging onto false hope all goddamn night.” He leans forward, teetering on the edge. “She’s going to feel the way I do now.”

“That’s not your fault,” Robby says. “Some people can’t be saved. It’s the worst part of the job.”

Jack sways. “I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Robby wraps a delicate hand around Jack’s forearm. “Go home. Get some sleep.”

“I never wake up feeling rested. Not anymore.”

“Sleep here,” Robby tries. He doesn’t want Jack anywhere he can’t reach anyway. “In the break room.”

Finally, Jack looks at him. Robby prays he’s more tempting than the road below.

“Are people lying when they say it gets better?”

In Robby’s experience? Yes. But he’d rather toss himself over than say that to Jack. “Only one way to find out.”

Jack studies Robby for another moment before he ducks under the fence to safety. Robby considers taking God more seriously as he holds Jack in his arms. They stand tied together as if the violent wind is nothing more than a summer breeze.

“Come on,” Jack whispers. “Gotta do the handoff.”

Without thinking, Robby keeps his hand on Jack’s waist as they walk to the elevator. Once they’re inside, Jack tips his head to rest on Robby’s shoulder.

“Are you going home?” Robby asks.

Jack’s grin isn’t as light as Robby is used to, but it’s better than the flat expression he’s grown accustomed to recently. “You invited me to stay.”

Robby’s grip tightens. “I want you to stay.”

[juniper-is-in-the-house]

Clingy! Dennis. Dennis who loves staying in bed on days off for as long as possible, using Robby’s chest as a pillow, hanging onto him like one of those stuffed monkeys they sell at airports. Dennis who loves to cuddle and be sandwiched between Robby and Abbot. Dennis who needs to squeeze someone tightly and be squeezed tightly back. Who gets all the head kisses and small circles on his back. Who loves the smell of his boyfriends in their sheets.

[whitsantos-twinism-truther]

whitsantos going to a pride parade and dressing themselves up in outfits to show solidarity towards the other’s identity. trinity wearing a tank top with the trans flag on it, and dennis wearing bandanas with the lesbian flag tied around his belt loops (they’re both wearing jorts… because duh).

dennis gets flirted with by a bunch of lesbians (to which he awkwardly responds “oh i’m not…”), and the whole time trinity is like “wtf, i’m right here??”. it isn’t until a young trans person comes up to trinity and asks about her transition that they realize what’s happening. then they’re both like,

“ohhhhhhh, we’re stupid”

[raysoccultboobs]

While Robby is away on sabbatical, his coworkers all start texting him pictures of Dennis. 

It takes him a minute to realize that's what's happening. Of course, they all send the Dennis pics along with texts and photos of other people. Sometimes Whitaker's in a group shot, or caught in the background of a selfie. It takes Robby a beat to realize that the pattern is Dennis-centric.

It only occurs to him that it's deliberate after a pic from Dana. At first, Dana sends weekly updates about the Pitt and an occasional word of support. Lets him know the Pitt's not on fire without him there to put it out. Then, after he's been gone a month, the first week of September, she sends a shot of Dennis at the backyard barbecue she hosts on Labor Day each year. Whitaker is wearing shorts, armed with a squirt gun, laughing, a passle of little kids crawling all over him. The accompanying text just says: missed u at the bbq this year boss. Casual, like Dana didn't just send him an image custom designed to hit him right smack in the Daddy issues.

Robby almost drops his phone. 

Pretty soon, they're all doing it. Week five, McKay sends a question about some paperwork and a picture of herself, Dennis and Mateo in the park after work. Then, Dennis apparently does a week of Night Shift because Shen sends a selfie with Dennis, each holding enormous Dunkin iced coffees. Javadi sends him a group shot that so happens to have Dennis front and center of the Pittlings, captioned that they all miss him. Princess sends a candid pic of Dennis and Jack, heads together during change over. Dennis is gesturing to something on a chart and Jack is listening with a slight frown of concentration. They're standing with the same stance. They look like two of the same letters in a slightly different font. Robby is struck by how similar they are from that angle and he ignores they way his stomach clenches with suppressed desire for both of them. Mel King sends a shot of Dennis and Santos obviously doing a round of Rock Paper Scissors to see who has to do some sort of unpleasant procedure. Even Langdon, of all people, sends Robby a photo of Dennis leaning on the desk, arms crossed, caught for a split second between patients. The kid seems unaware of his picture being taken, probably looking up at the board. His shoulders and arms look absolutely magnificent. But that surely can't be the reason why Langdon sent it? 

If it were only a few people sending them, he would consider it a coincidence, but by the six week mark, it's almost everyone who is aquatinted with the both of them. Robby can't miss the pattern. It's quite clear, all his people think Robby wants to know how Dennis is doing in his absence.

He does want to know. 

Of course, he does, despite the fact that it makes him feel like the butt of a group joke. It's embarrassing actually. Realizing they all know he's infatuated with Dennis, Robby feels called out and transparent. Like everyone must think he's such a ridiculous, old perv to be pining over a young guy like that. Thinks they must be sending these texts to make fun of his pathetic "secret" crush that was apparently obvious to everyone in the ED (except maybe Dennis himself). He doesn't know how to respond to the pictures. Usually changes the subject and asks the sender how they're doing. Or sends a pic of the scenery from his road trip.

Naturally, Trinity Santos is the most egregious Dennis pic sender. Unlike the others, there is nothing about Santos's pictures that stays within the mentor/mentee bounds. Hers are far too personal to send the man's boss. She doesn't even bother to pair the pics with a question about emergency medicine. She sends a pic of Dennis singing karaoke in a bar, wearing a crop top and smeared black eyeliner. A week or so later, she sends a pic of Dennis at an outdoor concert, toasting the camera with a plastic cup of beer. The later summer sun has brought out the freckles across his nose. A week after that, it's a pic of Huckleberry hard at work out on what must be Amy's farm. He's wearing a faded blue T-shirt that perfectly matches his eyes, stained dark with sweat. Then, there's another shot of Dennis behind the wheel of the farm truck, wearing a battered, straw cowboy hat, grinning at something the photographer was saying or doing, that little gap in his teeth showing. A few days later, she sends one that shouldn't be as hot as it is, a scowling, grouchy Dennis, obviously hungover, hair a mess, unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his pretty mouth, cooking breakfast while wearing nothing but a pair of dark sunglasses and some baggy blue boxer shorts. He's flipping off the camera. It makes Robby's heart do something strange when he realizes that one was taken in his own kitchen. Because of Santos, he sees sides of Dennis that he never gets to at work. 

There's nothing like that sent from Dennis himself, of course. Texts from him are a few carefully worded questions about the plants. Once, a question about working the dishwasher. Every week, he sends a picture of Robby's house plant collection, to show him they're all still alive and well. He sends occasional updates about Duke's post surgery recovery. It's all very Midwestern polite. Robby's replies are the same, professional and appropriate.

He suspects that poor, innocent Huckleberry has no clue his friends and co-workers are doing this to them. Robby wonders if Dennis would be embarrassed or angry about the photographic teasing if he knew. If he would be disgusted by Robby's inappropriate crush. It makes him cringe to think of Dennis finding out. Perhaps he should tell them to stop sending the pictures, but he doesn't. Can't quite address it directly because that would make it A Thing. 

It should be noted that Jack Abbot is suspiciously quiet during this whole pictorial onslaught. Though he's well aware of Robby's crush. In fact, Jack was the only person Robby openly spoke of Dennis to. Abbot sends no pics. Just a brotherly word or two, checking in around sunset each day. He thinks of calling Jack to say something about what the others are doing, find out if it's a prank, but just rehearsing the conversation in his mind is so awkward that he doesn't dare do it. 

After weeks of it, gradually, Robby starts to see how sweet all the messages really are. No one ever says "gotcha" or admits it's a gag. He begins to suspect it's not actually a joke, because people send him Dennis stories, too. They don't violate HIPAA by talking about the patients, but they all send little tales of Dennis's good deeds. His moments of kindness or brilliance. Robby comes to realize that it doesn't actually feel much like teasing, no one seems to be mocking either one of them. In fact, there's something endearing about the gesture.

To be known is to be loved, so people seeing his attraction to Dennis is maybe not such a bad thing after all? Perhaps this is their odd way of accepting and supporting him, inappropriate as it is to surveille his resident for him. 

They keep coming. Dennis petting a golden retriever on a coffeeshop patio. A slightly embarrassed Dennis appearing in one of Javadi's tiktoks. Dennis asleep on the too short sofa in the break room, a curling mustache drawn on his upper lip in what Robby hopes is eyeliner and not magic marker. Even Duke sends one, a shot of the two of them, both giving a thumbs up to the camera.

By the end of the second month, Robby has dozens of pics of Dennis saved to his phone, sent from atleast ten people. At that point, it feels a lot like they're all trying to lure Robby back home with adorable pictures of his favorite person. 

He starts to look forward to receiving them. Downloads each one that comes in. During lonely nights on the road, he looks through them all before sleep. The cowboy hat pic becomes his phone lock screen. Why not? There's no one out here to see it and tell on him. Or perhaps, because the "secret" is so obviously out now, he no longer feels ashamed of it, feels no need to keep hiding. There's still lingering guilt, because innocent Dennis has no idea.

But he does not turn the bike around and head home just yet. No, that comes after Jack finally sends his Dennis text. 

Agent of chaos, Jack sends it without warning, on an otherwise unremarkable, sunny Tuesday afternoon. Robby opens it while he's stopped, gassing up Bonnie. It's not a pic. It's a link. A long line of random numbers and letters, an anonymous, encrypted website, the kind with private accounts and log-ins. The kind that hosts invitation only videos that disappear after the log-in expires. He knows how this is supposed to work, but it's not something they've ever done, he and Jack. To open it would definitely cross a line. And Robby knows, Jack loves crossing lines. He wouldn't be Jack if he didn't. 

The temporary log-in is Robby's birthday. That definitely reminds him that he is far too ancient to be clicking on whatever it is he's about to see. "Thanks for that, Jack", he thinks. He puts his phone up and gets back on the bike.

Once he's alone in his hotel room, though, of course, Robby clicks the link. He watches. 

A video. Dennis and Jack in Robby's own bed. Looks like the phone is propped up on the bedside table, probably leaning against his Bubbe's lamp. This time, Dennis is fully aware he's on camera. On all fours, he makes direct eye contact and preens as Jack pushes into him from behind. His mouth is open, he's saying something. Robby catches only the words "want you to see", he can't hear the rest over the slap of their skin and Jack's panting groans. Never taking his eyes off the camera, Dennis goes up onto his knees, Jack's arms circle his chest, holding him up. Dennis bouncing with each thrust. Dennis only looks away when he twists his upper body to turn his face towards Jack, who kisses him, deep and messy. 

The next clip is Dennis on his back on Robby's kitchen table, Jack standing between his thighs, his legs propped up on Jack's shoulders. Dennis's actually holding the phone himself in this one, so it's close to his mouth when Dennis cums, unmistakably calling Robby's name along with Jack's. Dennis pans to Jack who looks down the barrel of the camera, face framed by Dennis's legs. Still pounding away, Jack says, "Get your head out of your ass and come home, brother." 

Then, it's Dennis kneeling on the soft carpet at the foot of Jack's bed. It's been a few years, but Robby still remembers the feel of it under his own knees. There are purple love bites on his pale thighs and chest. He looks wrecked and needy like Jack's been edging and overstimulating him for hours. Dennis is looking up at the camera, big blue eyes welling with tears, he simply says, "Please, Robby."

The next morning, he's on the road back to Pittsburgh by sunrise. 

(Whole thing is Dennis's idea, btw. He posed for and approved every single one.)

[helvyeah1]

fresh cuts with robby

[the-irreverend]

And stay safe everyone!

[birdsandboys]

Really mean idea where Rabbot are married and comfortable enough that sleeping with other people is fine. Robby forming a crush on Dennis isn't ideal (see power imbalance), but Jack loves his husband very much, and the resident seems sweet enough and is awkward enough around Robby that Jack thinks it's probably reciprocated, so he gives Robby the go-ahead. Unlike a lot of Robby's previous hook-ups, Dennis doesn't seem to get jealous when Robby spends time with Jack, and the kid is funny as fuck when Jack gets him for night shifts. Jack's almost pre-emptively sad at the idea of it ending and the awkward fallout that always follows.

Dennis, however, was being awkward around Robby because it's embarrassing as fuck to have a crush on your attending's husband, especially when Robby has a clear favouritism towards Dennis, meaning he can't even escape the guilt it causes. Is it incredibly bad form to start sleeping with Robby in hopes that Jack might become interested in him, too? Maybe. Unfortunately, Dennis is desperate enough to give it a go.

[bompeii]

Robby, don't go where I can't follow.

insta | patreon | ao3

[ineffably-bisexual]

Dr. Jack Abbot

eye contact extraordinaire

[ghouldeer]

Guess who’s back on his bullshit

[ecrivainfantome]

That recent photoshoot of hatosy in that leather jacket has been living rent free in my mind for a while

[speechless-typewriter]

One of my head canons today is Robby gifting Jack custom cuff links for his shirts when he wears business formal attire to medical conferences and it’s a tiny rabbit sitting on the moon 🥹

Cuff links because when Jack wears them they sit on his wrists and right next to his radial pulse so a part of Robby will always feel Jack’s heartbeat.

AHHHHH these two❤️‍🔥