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Rabbot ‘together since the start’ social media au:
Part 9/? + phone convo below!
Masterpost
——————
The first thing Robby hears when the line finally connects to Whitaker’s phone is overlapping voices and general chaos.
“Hi, Dr - stop trying to grab the phone - hi Dr. Robby,” Whitaker says, voice sounding slightly far away. “You’re on speaker -“
“Your man is a badass!” Santos whoops, drunkenly interrupting, the phone jostling in the hand of whoever is holding it. “He didn’even - he didn’hesitate -“
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Robby snaps, and that seems to sober some of the chatter. “Someone tell me what the hell is going on! Where is Jack?”
“He’s with the police,” comes Mel’s voice, a little less clear than it normally is but certainly more sober than Santos. “Talking! Not in trouble, he - he was the hero, not the bad guy!”
“He literally saved my life,” comes an inebriated but sincere sob from Javadi. It makes Robby soften just a little. She’s crying and obviously very shaken. “He didn’t care if he got hurt, he just saved me -“
Christ, he forgets they’re all just kids.
“Okay, but he’s conscious and upright, correct? And has Javadi been checked out? Is she okay?” Robby asks, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Yes sir,” Whitaker says, and Robby can practically see him nodding. “Paramedics have checked her out, and checked him over too, but he declined care because he said the doctor at home is better looking.”
Robby can’t help but snort, shaking his head. Of course he fucking did.
“What happened?” He asks. When they all start talking at once, he clarifies. “One at a time, please.”
“We were leaving the pub to go dancing, and Dr. Abbot was going to walk us there and then go home,” Mel says, and truly thank god for her, Robby thinks. “Vic was at the back because she had a rock in her shoe. We walked by this alley and just as everyone passed, a guy grabbed Vic from behind and clamped his hand over her mouth, but Trinity saw -“
“You’re damn right I fucking did, piece of shit motherfuckers -“
Robby can’t help but smile fondly at Santos’ fiery interjection. She’s a protector, through and through.
“- and Dr. Abbot was just there before anyone could even react, told us to call the police and he just ripped Vic free and then the guys were on him but he just -“
“He kicked their asses!” Santos interjects again. “He didn’t even hesitate, he just - and then they fought back but he won! Knocked those fuckers out and now the - ouch, stop punching me - now the cops have ‘em!
Robby sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose even as he smiles a little.
That’s Jack - headfirst into the danger to help. No matter the cost.
“Can you put him on the phone please?” Robby asks.
“Yeah, yep, of course -“ it’s Whitaker again, the rustling of the phone loud as he extricates himself from the group. There’s more shuffling and the sound of a crowd and then -
“Hi baby,” comes Jack’s voice, a little sore sounding but clear.
“Jesus, Jack,” Robby breathes out, sheer relief finally flooding him. “Are you okay? Where are you, I’ll come get you.”
“I’m alright,” Jack reassures him, voice warm despite the slight nasal sound. Hit in the nose, definitely. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.”
“Looked like more than that,” Robby insists. “Santos posted a photo.”
Jack laughs, and Robby can practically see the wince that comes with it as he moves his face. “Course she did,” he says. “She said I looked really badass.”
“You look like you’re giving your husband more grey hair,” Robby groused.
“Good thing I like an older man,” Jack teases.
Robby rolls his eyes. “Tell me where you are, I’m coming to get you.”
“Nah, the boys in blue are gonna drive me home,” Jack says. “They’re going to drop off the kids, too, I want to make sure they get home safe.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll be home before you know it,” Jack murmurs, the warmth soothing some of the anxiety in Robby’s chest. “And then you can fuss over me all you want.”
“Alright,” Robby concedes with a sigh. “Fine. Text me when you’re on your way, okay?
“I will,” Jack says. “Love you.”
Robby sighs, smiling softly. “Love you too, you big fucking hero. Get here soon.”
When Jack and Robby first decided to move in, one of their earliest conversations was post-shift mood.
Sure it was nice to wake up just as your person was curling up to sleep and vice versa, but there were those rough shifts. The ones that came with too many traumas, too much frustration, or it was simply too hard to get the smell of blood and antiseptic out of their nostrils. On those days neither of them wanted to talk.
They should talk about those shifts. Both of their therapists said that they should.
But Jack and Robby knew deep in their bones that if they were pushed to talk, it would have the opposite effect. Withdrawing. Snapping. Shouting matches.
So they made it work.
If Robby came home and curled up into Jack's lap without saying a word, all Jack would have to do is ask for a sign. Thumbs up meant exhausted but okay to talk. Thumbs down meant bad shift, talk later.
And he'd listen. Jack would stroke his hair and feed him and let him sleep while old reruns droned quietly on the TV.
If it was a bad pain day, Robby would fetch his meds and the mirror and let him listen to the police scanner until he was rested.
The hand signals gave them space to process and the reassurance that when they were ready, their person would be ready and waiting with open arms.
Got whacked over the head with a Pacific Rim Rabbot AU and had to do something for it.
This would be the second partnership for both Robby and Jack.
Robby's first co-pilot was his mentor and father-figure, veteran Ranger Monty Adamson, who'd been piloting Jaegers from the Mark 1 days. Unfortunately, like many Mark 1 pilots, exposure to the nuclear reactors of the early Jaegers left him with a cancer that very quickly became terminal after diagnosis.
Jack, on the other hand, piloted with the ranger who would eventually become his wife until, during particularly savage battle with a Kaiju off the coast of California, their Jaeger sustained critical damage that ultimately claimed Jack's leg and her life.
After a few years these two found each other and, to their mutual disbelief and dismay, quickly realise that they were both almost certainly drift-compatible and too duty-bound to helping the fight for humanity to ignore that fact, even at the expense of their own mental wellbeing.
The above depicts their first neural handshake, where the potential co-pilots connect for the first time and can see and feel each others minds, memories, and emotions. It's vital, during this process, to both allow your mind to be completely open to your partner, but also to not allow yourself to latch onto any memory in particular, particular heavily emotional ones - or 'chase the rabbit'. It's tricky though, when both pilots have so. many. rabbits.
jack abbot/michael "robby" robinavitch, the pitt (tv)
3.9k, explicit, no archive warnings apply
tags: Phone Sex, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, guided masturbation, Anal Fingering, Genital Piercing, Porn with Feelings, First Time
Before Robby can think better of it, the edge of his buzz hanging on, he adds to his text message, Can’t even get myself off the way I used to.
He stares at his phone, at the reckless message he sent, his body heating, watching the dots on his phone pulse as Jack types a response. Robby considers sending a quick follow-up, something to deflect or change the topic, when Jack’s message pops up.
no problem, we can solve this, brother
Robby’s trying to figure out what the hell that means, when another message comes through:
that rooftop scene in the finale was actually so important.
the rooftop is the setting in the pitt where people have these big emotional beats in which they reach out and attempt to find community. this is established in season one between jack and robby. in the beginning of episode one, we see jack facing the void and turning away from it to follow robby back to safety, robby does the with jack at the end. season two reaffirms this interpretation.
all of these women we saw on the roof were on the brink this whole season. samira was personally and professionally adrift. mel was facing her malpractice suit and sister’s independence. perlah was facing national xenophobic sentiments and the pressure of being a highly capable nurse. dana was reeling from her assault and crumbling under the pressure of her position. mckay was realizing the depths of her emotional detachment. victoria was dealing with her insecurities and lack of freedom. trinity had the situationship and the frank confrontation and the child abuse trigger and the loss of dennis’s company.
all of these women were facing a profound loneliness, a profound void, a profound lack of support. they were all alone in this all day, briefly brushing against each other in moments that chafed and soothed in equal measure.
and just like jack and robby have each other to pull them back from the edge, these women can find that with each other in the exact same spot.
the pitt uses setting very well. the peds room represents the loss and gains of family. the bathroom represents the humanity denied to healthcare works. and the roof represents the community these providers find within each other.
they all have moments where they’re correcting, snapping, or disagreeing with each other this season. samira judges cassie for talking about her lack of intimacy, victoria and trinity have a more sarcastic relationship, mel flat out said trinity has a personality disorder, dana has been short with just about everyone. but in this one moment, they band together. they process the day, feel awe and exhaustion and sadness and wonder all at the same time, all together. they build an imperfect community out of tragedies.
I have a beautiful scene playing out in my head that goes like this
Robby: *throws a punch at Abbot*
Abbot: *Immediately puts him in a headlock, looking at Dana while ignoring Robby's squirming* "Excuse us a moment" *Drags him away in the headlock to calm him down elsewhere*
Thinking about a scenario where Robby tells Jack, conspicuously nonchalant about it and without making eye contact, that he's got a Grindr profile almost set up but feels ridiculous trying to pick out profile pics. He doesn't take pictures, let alone of himself. "You're on Grindr. Any tips?"
Jack takes in the information and tries to convey an equal level of manufactured coolness, even though his mind is racing bc since when does Robby go for guys? What he says, before he can think through the implications, is, "I can take some pictures for you. Low frills." Adding, "Nothing to stress about," when Robby's jaw twitches.
Which is how they find themselves in Robby's bedroom, Robby stripped down to his boxer briefs, an attractive flush running from his face down his chest. They'd already taken a few fully dressed pics on Robby's balcony, "But you've gotta give a little more, brother," Jack had said, and now here they are. Robby, with his long legs and thick, meaty waist on display. His nipples are tight and peaked, one with a distracting barbell piercing through it. But most of Jack's energy is directed at working really fucking hard to avoid staring at the impressive bulge in Robby's underwear.
Robby's shifting awkwardly, the opposite of the vibe he's going for, so Jack suggests, "Just---relax. Get out of your head. Look toward me and think about someone you really want to fuck. Only that person. Imagine they're watching you, and want you, too."
"That's---this is ridiculous." Robby's flush deepens.
"Please," Jack says, rolling his eyes. "I've seen you turn on the charm on every floor of the hospital. Look at me like you want to fuck me. One picture is all you need."
Robby swallows and tucks his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear. "Yeah, okay," he says, and his whole expression shifts. His lips are slightly parted, chin up, and his eyes are molten. Robby looks like he wants to devour Jack.
Jack ignores his racing heart and the blood threatening to rush south, and takes a few quick pictures with Robby’s phone, praying to a god he's long abandoned that he's not giving himself away. When he's done, he looks down at his phone to collect himself and swipes through the pics. "These look good," he says, clearing his throat when his voice catches.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Robby says. “Do I have to be prepared to start sending dick pics, though?”
“Depends,” Jack answers, and his voice sounds so fucking rough, but now he’s definitely thinking about Robby’s dick. “You looking to top or…?” He shrugs and waves his hands vaguely. Jack has no problem talking about sex, but being in Robby’s bedroom, taking pictures of Robby in his underwear so Robby can get laid by someone else, is making him a little dizzy.
“Let’s go with ‘or.’” Robby says, meeting Jack’s eyes almost defiantly, as if Robby’s desire to bottom isn’t rewiring Jack’s neural pathways and demolishing any chance he had at hiding his arousal.
“Then, no,” Jack chokes out. “Guys aren’t gonna be asking for dick pics.”
Robby turns as red as he’s been all day. “I wouldn’t know how— how would I even…” Robby says helplessly.
“Someone could take ‘em for you.” Jack can barely hear his own voice over the rushing in his head and the shock that he had the balls to make the offer, ambiguous as it is.
Robby doesn’t say anything, and the air in the room grows weighted as Jack—rooted in place—lets Robby silently assess him. Robby’s eyes dart down Jack’s body, and Jack has to resist the instinct to glance down himself, to see if there’s evidence of his growing erection through his gym shorts. He doesn’t, though. And he doesn’t give in to his urge to make a joke and laugh the whole thing off. Which is good, because suddenly Robby has seen enough, and he says gruffly, “Yeah. Okay. How do you want me?”
It takes Jack a second to process Robby’s question, and then he’s nodding at the bed. “On your stomach, and lose the underwear.”
I’m a doctor, Jack thinks. I’ve seen thousands of naked bodies. Disconnect. Disconnect. Disconnect.
But then Robby’s lying on the bed, arms wrapped around the pillow his head is resting on, one long leg running down the bed, the other with a knee bent, splayed wide. Robby’s ass—thick and full—is on display, along with his heavy balls and hardening cock..
“Like this?” Robby asks, looking over his shoulder, all of his modesty seemingly gone.
“I—yeah. That’s—yes,” Jack says dumbly, staring at Robby openly, too turned on to remember he’s supposed to be taking pictures until Robby coughs and raises his eyebrows.
“Right.” Jack licks his lips and lifts his phone, taking pictures from a few different angles while Robby poses patiently. Jack’s cock is straining in his boxer briefs, and he’s grateful Robby’s not watching, because he has to palm himself for just a bit of relief. Robby looks so fucking good lying on the bed, and Jack is only human.
He lets Robby know when he’s done, expecting Robby to laugh and make a joke about sending these pics to randos on the app before kicking him out, leaving Jack to head home and get off, jealously, to the memory of what Robby looked like. But Robby stays in place and looks over his shoulder at Jack again.
“Think anyone’ll wanna see more?” He asks, holding Jack’s eyes, that heated look returning.
Jack is afraid to speak, so he nods slowly, and watches Robby reach a hand back to his ass and pull his cheek to the side, exposing his tight, furled hole. Moving to the bed, Jack rests his right knee on the mattress and nudges Robby’s leg wider, eyes fixed on Robby’s hole as he does.
“Like that,” Jack says, so quietly he’s not even sure Robby heard him. His heart is pounding, and his shorts are tented obscenely. He knows he’s supposed to be doing something, but all he can do is look.
“You gonna take some pictures, Jack?” Robby asks roughly. His cock is hard and leaking, a wet spot growing on the sheet between his legs.
Jack drags his eyes away from Robby’s hole and meets Robby’s gaze. He can’t stomach the thought of anyone else seeing Robby like this. “No.”
Robby’s quiet for a beat before he asks, “Then what are you gonna do?”
Crawling on the bed between Robby’s legs, Jack replaces Robby’s hand with his own, exposing him. With his free hand, he draws his thumb over Robby’s hole, tugging, and bites back a moan at the way Robby’s rim twitches under the attention.
“I’m going to make sure you never think of that fucking app again.”
The first chapter of my newest story just posted. It's a sequel to my earlier AU work, "To Protect and To Serve," which tells the story of Pittsburgh police officer Jack Abbot, who meets and falls in love with Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, a former Peace Corps volunteer and MSF relief worker who runs a Jewish deli in Squirrel Hill.
The sequel begins some months after the end of "To Protect and To Serve" and shows Jack and Robby dealing with the aftermath of a shooting that nearly killed a fellow police officer. The incident leaves Jack struggling with guilt and a growing doubt about his own physical abilities, and causes him to question whether there's still a place for him in the Bureau of Police.
You can read the first chapter of "All I Can Breathe Is Your Life" on ao3.
If you missed "To Protect and To Serve" and need some cop!Jack in your life (or want to read about Robby as a foodie with baggage of his own), you can find that here.
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