Just a cheeky little rabbot drabble inspired by a chat with @mrgoldsdearie while I work on some longer x reader stuff
summary: Robby enters the wrong shower cubicle at PTMC, and gets an eyeful.
tags/content warnings: nudity, swearing, nsfw but there's no smut, just peen....?, rabbot but only in the past, or is it????, two bros chilling in the same shower, five feet apart 'cus they're not gay*
*or are they?
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Blood was hardly the worst thing an ER doctor could end up covered in, but it was pretty fuckin’ grim nonetheless. Thankfully, the PTMC had showers for such an occasion, and that was where Robbie found himself after shift.
He sheds the scrubs in the locker room, and everything else down to his boxers, then grabs a towel from the stack and heads to the nearest cubicle. Shifts like this make him feel 20 years older than he already is - shit, not that he’s young anyway - and the soreness in his back is screaming. Unlike Langdon, he deals with it the same way he deals with everything else.
A lot of gritted teeth and swearing.
He swears, groans, and steps in. What should be the prelude to a hot, relaxing shower has his blood running cold and his skin getting hot as he hears the soft whump of a fumbled towel hitting the floor.
“Shit—“ Jack yells. “What the fuck, man?”
The night shift attending stands before him, balanced on his good leg, stark fuckin’ naked.
“Woah—” Robby says, stepping back without thinking and managing to shut himself in the cubicle. “You’re gonna take someone’s eye out with that.”
Jack Abbot is not a small man. Sure, plenty of men he knew carried themselves like their cock was the biggest in the room, and Jack was one of them (albeit more quietly than most), but unlike the rest of them he had the sheer fuckin’ length and girth to back it up.
Normally he’d swear that men did nothing for him, but the history he and Jack had was far from normal. During med school, he and Jack had…tested that theory. Drunk on whatever cheap booze would blunt the sharp edges of their stress and almost delirious from lack of sleep, they’d tangled like cheap jewellery. It had never gone beyond a kiss, but it so easily could have. They’d let nerves get the better of them – the fear of ruining the friendship, of years of awkward study and avoiding each other’s gaze – and promised to never talk about that kiss again.
And they never did.
But every now and then, he’d remember the taste of Jack’s lips – sweet and warm, the taste of alcohol and him – and the subtle but insistent nudge of something long and hard against his thigh. It had taken a cold shower and the thought of all those looming exams to calm his own cock back down.
“Hey,” Jack says, clicking his fingers in front of Robby’s face, “space cadet – maybe try looking somewhere else?”
“Shit, sorry—“ Robby blurts, shaking his head like it’s an etch-a-sketch to clear the memory. He thrusts the towel still clenched tight in his fist towards Jack. “But it looked at me first.”
Jack snatches it from his hand and covers himself back up. He nods at the blood still spattered over Robby’s face and arms. “Long day, huh?”
Robby nods.
“Hit the shower, man,” he sighs. There’s a pause, just shy of awkward. “Preferably one without someone in it.”
And so he does.
But when his hand touches that temperature dial, it’s cold water he chooses.
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