Realized I hardly ever post fluff so have some Rabbot fluff hcs
• They always spend NYE together. If Jack has to work, Robby hangs out until he gets his midnight kiss then he sleeps in the break room until his shift starts
• Jack’s mom bothered them for years about not getting a holiday card because all his siblings send one, so now he and Robby make one every year. Matching sweaters and everything.
• Jack calls Robby “sweetheart”
• Twice Robby has had to go to conferences without Jack and both times he sent his dozens of selfies exploring whatever city
• Jack sends pictures of him in the ED back
• Jack doesn’t read much, but he loves for Robby to read aloud to him (he always falls asleep within five minutes)
• Robby sheepishly admitted to not sleeping as well when Jack has to work because they can’t cuddle. Jack busy him a pregnancy pillow to help
• He loves to come home to see Robby wrapped around it, but he’s learned the hard way it isn’t possible to take it from him without disturbing his sleep. Jack ends up spooning Robby on the “wrong side” of the bed instead
• Every time Jack says he’s going to shower, Robby ruffles his hair just to see the curls fluff up
• In the winter, Robby bundles up tight because he still prefers to walk to work and Jack loves how cute he looks with his rosy cheeks peeking out from under his scarf
• Anytime Jack gets to show off his strength (lift something moderate heavy, open a stick jar) he makes a big show of flexing after because it’s a guaranteed way to make Robby laugh
• They love singing loud as fuck to the radio. The cars next to them can hear them jamming out
• Jack is ticklish. If he has phantom pains in his leg, Robby mirror touches tickling the bottom of his feet to take his mind off it.
• Robby is the main chef of the household; Jack clings to his back, watching over his shoulder and muttering “smells good” every thirty seconds
• That said, Jack makes an excellent cheesecake. He learned the recipe for his wife, he used to make it for her birthday, and now he gets to share it with the other love of his life
• After they get married, Robby wears a three ring stack. Engagement, wedding, and eternity ring.
• Jack let Robby cut his hair once during quarantine, and just… thank god he wasn’t going out into the world like that (he had to get the ole Pope Cody s1 look after to fix it)
• They have one shared wardrobe for anything other than formal attire. The fit changes a little from their body types, but they both wear a large so why not
• Jack likes to sit in Robby’s lap, chest to chest. They feel more rested after that type of cuddle session than sleep sometimes
• Their favorite date night is at home playing board games and chatting
• Jack likes to kiss Robby five times for luck. Left cheek, forehead, right cheek, nose, and lips.
Realized I hardly ever post fluff so have some Rabbot fluff hcs
• They always spend NYE together. If Jack has to work, Robby hangs out until he gets his midnight kiss then he sleeps in the break room until his shift starts
• Jack’s mom bothered them for years about not getting a holiday card because all his siblings send one, so now he and Robby make one every year. Matching sweaters and everything.
• Jack calls Robby “sweetheart”
• Twice Robby has had to go to conferences without Jack and both times he sent his dozens of selfies exploring whatever city
• Jack sends pictures of him in the ED back
• Jack doesn’t read much, but he loves for Robby to read aloud to him (he always falls asleep within five minutes)
• Robby sheepishly admitted to not sleeping as well when Jack has to work because they can’t cuddle. Jack busy him a pregnancy pillow to help
• He loves to come home to see Robby wrapped around it, but he’s learned the hard way it isn’t possible to take it from him without disturbing his sleep. Jack ends up spooning Robby on the “wrong side” of the bed instead
• Every time Jack says he’s going to shower, Robby ruffles his hair just to see the curls fluff up
• In the winter, Robby bundles up tight because he still prefers to walk to work and Jack loves how cute he looks with his rosy cheeks peeking out from under his scarf
• Anytime Jack gets to show off his strength (lift something moderate heavy, open a stick jar) he makes a big show of flexing after because it’s a guaranteed way to make Robby laugh
• They love singing loud as fuck to the radio. The cars next to them can hear them jamming out
• Jack is ticklish. If he has phantom pains in his leg, Robby mirror touches tickling the bottom of his feet to take his mind off it.
• Robby is the main chef of the household; Jack clings to his back, watching over his shoulder and muttering “smells good” every thirty seconds
• That said, Jack makes an excellent cheesecake. He learned the recipe for his wife, he used to make it for her birthday, and now he gets to share it with the other love of his life
• After they get married, Robby wears a three ring stack. Engagement, wedding, and eternity ring.
• Jack let Robby cut his hair once during quarantine, and just… thank god he wasn’t going out into the world like that (he had to get the ole Pope Cody s1 look after to fix it)
• They have one shared wardrobe for anything other than formal attire. The fit changes a little from their body types, but they both wear a large so why not
• Jack likes to sit in Robby’s lap, chest to chest. They feel more rested after that type of cuddle session than sleep sometimes
• Their favorite date night is at home playing board games and chatting
• Jack likes to kiss Robby five times for luck. Left cheek, forehead, right cheek, nose, and lips.
Trinity and Dennis kissed at least once, both drunk as pair of skunks, just to see how they'll feel.
They of course collectively decide that it's weird as fuck, because they are the wrong gender for each other but also 'It's like kissing my brother/sister' and ew ew ew.
Robby was never used to celebrating his birthday, let alone receiving gifts. Now that Jack finally found his way into Robby's life, he took it upon himself to show just how much Robby deserved his love and everything more.
—
Robby doesn’t have a childhood photo album.
The first time he learnt that this was a thing was in fourth grade, at a friend’s birthday party. Their parents brought out a family photo album and showed the kids sitting around the dining table — this was them at three years old tripping over a scooter, this was them graduating kindergarten, first time at the zoo crying ugly tears being scared of the tiger — while Robby’s friend tried to fight back the embarrassment of being exposed by the impromptu conversation that the anecdotes triggered, Robby’s gaze lingered. Memories documented in such detail was a concept so foreign to him, and what his friend saw as being put on the spot in front of their friends, all Robby saw was a childhood full of love and a kid cared for enough for ordinary things to become memorable.
He was too young to suppress the tiny flicker of longing for something remotely similar taking root in his little heart, but he was old enough to know that it wasn’t a good idea to dwell on these thoughts. He had a roof over his head. He had food to eat and clothes that fit. And even if there were days he cried silent tears facing the wall on his small twin bed, he would tell himself that he had enough. That his bubbe took him in when she didn’t have to. That he should be grateful. That he should require nothing more than what she could offer.
Robby spent his school years teaching himself to occupy the right amount of space. To hold himself in a way that was just tall enough to be acknowledged and not particularly noticed. And when untended emotions left alone for too long threatened to surface, he pushed them down and tucked them away in a box, the lid made up from the phrases he knew too well by heart.
Don’t be too much, don’t need too much, and don’t hope for too much.
That was exactly what Robby told himself as he prepared and packed his bags for med school. He didn’t have a lot of things. And among those things he had less that he allowed himself to call his own.
But he did have photos. Seven of them, to be exact. All different sizes, some faded and a bit wrinkled on the edges, like that of his mom that his bubbe gave him, reluctantly after a night of confusion and tears, and the one of him as a baby, staring into the camera with eyes so big he often wondered what he was thinking back then.
There were other ones, newer and the images more crisp — four of which was given to him by friends or their families. Not exactly photos of him, but more like photos with him in it. Memories that he participated in and happened to be captured with the main characters. People kind enough to give them to him after the film developed. He grabbed a brown paper envelop to put them in, one by one, putting his favorite photo last on the top of the thin deck — the only one he had of him and his bubbe. It was taken on his twelfth birthday, his bubbe asking a favor from his neighbor using their camera. Robby was sitting sideways on her lap in the photo, one foot on the edge of the chair to balance out his weight because he was a growing boy who was afraid that he was getting too heavy for his bubbe to bear. She was smiling at the camera, and Robby was looking at her. Not exactly smiling, but happy. Happy enough for a kid that had already lost the privilege of being a kid for some time.
—
Robby was never a fan of birthdays. When he was younger it reminded him too much of what he didn’t have, and as he trickled into his adult years it became an old habit of being totally comfortable of not being in the center of attention.
That, all changed when Jack came into his life. Robby never explicitly told him the reason why he hated making a deal out of his birthday, and Jack being Jack, understood enough not to probe. But he made sure from the start that Robby didn’t spend the day alone. It began from a casual “do you want to watch [whatever game is on that day] after your shift”, and they would eat takeout, drink a beer or two like they often did any other day when they hung out. Somehow, Jack would always avoid mentioning anything regarding the significance of that particular day, their conversations bearing a thoughtful casualness that made Robby feel comforting.
Robby appreciated it. He appreciated it more than words could describe, because only Jack knew how to leave enough room for Robby to not be self-conscious of his company, but at the same time, stay close enough to fill up that emptiness he was too scared to name. Jack managed to ease into his habits in ways Robby only realized after it had happened, and throughout the years, with the patience held only by someone who loved another dearly and quietly, or someone who was secretly gifted in taming very easily startled animals, Jack had managed to morph the itinerary of Robby’s birthday from a casual hangout to nice dinners out, activities that happened to exist on the same day, to a decade later, coming to Robby’s and cooking an elaborate dinner for him with a dessert that suggest the least amount of resemblance to a birthday cake.
And now, a few months into them crossing the bridge and moving in together, it appeared that Jack had made it his business to start introducing the bizarre concept of gift-giving.
They had just finished dinner and settled in the sofa, Robby’s body loose and buzzing from the abundance of sugar Jack had snucked into the chocolate panna cotta that was apparently also making him emotionally pliable. Because Robby was just now noticing the rectangular object sitting on the coffee table, wrapped neatly by someone who also had the audacity to put a gold bow on it.
“What is this?”
“This,” Jack drawled, not bothering to hide the fond amusement in his voice, his arm coming across the back of the couch and landing on the nape of Robby’s neck, “is what common folks call a gift.”
Robby stared at him. With those big doe eyes that made it more than acceptable to say that he looked like a deer in the headlights.
“Would you like to open it?”
Robby kept staring.
“Hey.” Jack’s voice softened, his hand gently squeezing the back of Robby’s neck, his go-to Robby-soothing gesture in moments like these.
“I know we said no gifts, but this is technically not a gift for you, it’s a gift for us. It just happened to need you to reveal it for us.” Jack paused, letting that settle in.
“Do you think you can do us the honor, sweetheart?”
Robby blinked. He was not mentally prepared for this. As much as he wanted to curl into himself and disappear into his tangled emotions that had been summoned by this situation, the gentleness in Jack’s voice made it hard to think about disappointing him.
As Robby gingerly reached out to the wrapped package, wearing an expression of someone bracing for impact, Jack thought about the conversation he had with Robby, all those years ago, when he asked him what he wanted for his birthday. Robby had looked so scared and startled that Jack sensed there was something buried underneath that Robby was not ready to confide yet. It was later, after talking to Dana and Adamson and bonding over shared love for the same person, that he got a glimpse into what Robby had went through as a kid. Even Adamson had only been told pieces of the story, him being the person closest to stepping into Robby’s orbit.
They all loved Robby. And they all understood that Robby needed time to be comfortable with letting himself be loved. And probably more time for him to believe that he was deserving of all the love they gave to him unconditionally. But they were willing to wait, especially Jack. Especially after Adamson passed and Dana had more on her plate. Jack was determined to show him all his love from the sidelines until Robby felt ready to come to him.
And here he was.
Right next to him.
Holding the gift that hopefully would convince him more of just how lovable and deserving of love he was.
“Jack…” Barely a whisper. Robby was looking down at the unwrapped gift, his brown eyes bright and face so soft that Jack wanted nothing more than cradle him in his arms and never let go.
Sitting in Robby’s lap, was a photo album.
Jack had spent months putting it together, digging through old files and learning about negative films and photography jargon that he never thought he would need one day. But he had wanted to do this for Robby for a very long time. Ever since Robby showed him the handful of photos he had of his childhood and Jack had tried very hard to hold back his tears as his heart ached for him. For a child forced to grow up in a fortnight. For a child who grew up without people having the capacity to celebrate his every milestone. For a child that learnt too quickly to not need what he required. For the child that was still inside Robby, who Jack longed to reach through to and hug him and tell him that he was not alone.
And he got to, in this way.
Robby was flipping through the album now, quiet and nearly reverent. Jack turned and placed a gentle kiss on his temple, before he rested his head on Robby’s shoulder, gazing down at the photos together.
Med-school Robby, smiling at the camera, stethoscope around his neck. Robby in his 20s, laughing, a real toothy laugh that Jack found incredibly endearing. A single photo that Jack was lucky enough to find of Robby in his MSF days. More of Robby as a young doctor, wearing the same serious expression he still did decades later in trauma rooms.
“Oh.” Robby let out a breath, his thumb brushing against the plastic film covering the photo of a younger version of him standing next to Adamson. Robby mid-30s, tall, confident, eyes determined. Adamson looking up at him, smiling, eyes soft, proud. Next to it, photo of them sitting together in discussion. Another page of Robby standing and watching Adamson as he lectured. Adamson patting him on the shoulder while Robby laughed.
“How on earth…” Robby looked towards Jack, his eyes red around the edges.
“With lots of help and some favors promised.” Jack’s finger brushed against Robby’s, tracing over the figure of a younger Robby in scrubs. “Look at you.” He said softly, watching the color blossom on Robby’s cheeks. “Just as handsome.”
Robby’s breath caught, eyelids fluttered as he made an attempt to say something, gave up and went back to the album.
Jack let him. He had all the time in the world. And Robby didn’t need to say anything out loud for Jack to hear him.
—
The next section was getting closer to where they were now. Robby growing out a beard, as the chief attending. Robby presenting at donor meetings. Robby in his element in the ER.
And Robby with Jack. Both of them a decade or so younger, talking to each other at the nurse station. Robby and Jack at conferences together, smiling at the camera. Robby and Jack doing handovers, talking to student doctors, giving instructions.
“And…that’s when I inserted myself into your life.” Jack mused, his eyes catching Robby’s and he could tell Robby was thinking about those days as well. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners and warmth settled into his expression.
“I knew you were gonna be trouble the day you walked into the trauma room with that smirk and snapped on those gloves like you owned the place.”
“Well, I’m your trouble now.”
“I’m having an emotionally vulnerable moment right now and all you do is tease.” Robby shook his head as he turned a page. “You never change.”
Seeing Robby take in the next section was a treat that Jack savored. He would never admit it but he shed more than a tear or two while he put the photos in. It was the most elaborated section, because it was where their story truly began.
And Jack had treasured every single moment of it.
There were selfies of them together. Photos that Jack took of Robby when he was unaware of it happening. Screenshots of texts that made him blush seeing them again. Coffee cups, plates of breakfasts, bowls of salads, but always in pairs. Because they existed as a pair now. Photos of random things that became their inside jokes. Robby sprawled on the floor after giving up on assembling their bookcase. Domestic Robby. Robby making faces. Sleeping. Robby on the toilet flipping off at Jack behind the camera. The last photo, a selfie of Jack with Robby brushing his teeth in the background, wearing only his boxers.
“Was that one really necessary.” Robby murmured under his breath.
“I wanted to capture every moment of you, of the life I’m sharing with you. Because no matter how mundane you think it is, to me, it is you there, with me, alive, and present. And that means so much to me, Robby.”
“You can’t just say that…” Robby nudged him gently on the side, “All serious and that when I’m only made aware of a photo existing of me like this.”
“You should know that I played nice because I have many photos of you wearing less than that.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.” Jack quipped with a smug grin. “You love me.”
“I do.” Robby huffed out a laugh, closing the photo album and putting it back on the table. His expression shifted as he turned towards Jack, fingers interlocking with his.
“Thank you. For the album, for the dinner, and all of this.” He kept his gaze on the album as he gestured between them with his other hand, flustered. “I don’t know how I deserve you.”
“Robby. Look at me.” Jack put some force into his voice, and that caught his attention. Robby stilled.
“I put this together because I want you to know that you’re cared for, that you’re loved. That of all people, you especially deserve something celebrating you. This is only the beginning — all the pages that’s left unfilled, that’s you. That’s us.” Jack used his hand on Robby’s neck to pull him close, their foreheads touching now.
“You came this far, and all I did was gather the evidence that each of your steps counted. And you won’t be in this alone anymore. You were never alone, baby.”
Jack planted a soft kiss on the edge of Robby’s mouth. His nose brushed against Robby’s face, damp now.
“I’m here. And I love you. So much. And I’ll be here no matter what, love you no matter what.” Jack paused, squeezing Robby’s neck to let the words sink in. His voice was rough as he continued.
“And the most important thing is, you deserve all of it, and so much more. And this here, this album, is that love made tangible for you to feel, to touch, to believe in.”
Jack pulled away to look into Robby’s eyes again. Somehow he was also crying now. But through the blurriness he could see Robby, his gaze fond, present, there. And for a brief second he could see a small boy with the same doe eyes staring back at him.
“You’ve got so many wonderful things to see, and so many people to love ahead of you.” He whispered quietly, hoping the words would reach beyond years and, for this time, stay.
i think my favorite thing about trinity santos is how genuinely corny she is. i love how she unironically changes whitaker’s nickname from huckleberry to fuckleberry when she’s upset. i love the exaggerated hand gestures and the way she bows as she makes her dramatic exit saying, “so long, fellow losers”. she is so undeniably cringe that i can’t help but love her
