dunk the lunk, as thick as a castle wall and slow as an aurochs fr because how can you not tell this man wants you he's not even trying to mask it boy.
he literally asked you to be his fucking sworn sword while at your LOWEST. come on man 😑 he wants to devour you in the homoerotic way the scholars are fond of.
So one of the things that can apparently contribute to kidney issues in cats is if they eat too much dry food and don't drink enough water; cats are adapted to get a lot of their water from their food since they're originally desert animals, and might not get enough water if they don't eat wet food. Unfortunately, Dozy won't eat wet food no matter what; she categorically refuses to touch the stuff. So a few months ago, we were looking for ways to get Dozy more fluids, and my wife noticed at the pet store a cat drink--basically meat broth with some floaty bits in--that was low-protein and meant for cats with kidney issues. So we figured, worth a try, right?
Great news: she loved it. Super tasty apparently. Great success. Along with the kidney-sensitive treats we found, it was a nice way to supplement her diet. Unforseen long-term consequence though: she loved it so much she began demanding it throughout the day. Like, would come up to us and meow, and meow, and meow, and not stop, until we got up, went to the kitchen, and got her some cat drink.
And by doing so on demand, we have unfortunately created a monster: no matter what we are doing at home, Dozy knows that if she sits next to you and meows, 1) you know what she wants, and 2) you know that she will not stop until you get it for her now. And when you do get it, she gets extremely excited. She will bum rush the kitchen door as you enter. She will run around your feet as you open the can. She will let out the creakiest, crunchiest, most nails-on-the-chalkboard meow you've ever heard if she thinks you're not going fast enough.
I do not begrudge her this. It is gratifying to care for a creature whose most ardent desires are so simple that it is this easy to fulfill them. But I am a little sad, because I know in my heart that I have never loved any comestible as much as she loves this cat drink. She has a pleasure of a purity and intensity that I will never know.
Fully believe that Lyonel had a mental breakdown when he first saw Dunk with long hair and realised he could've had that with him at Storm's End if it weren't for those stupid stupid lizard people.
Not everyone who is a woman is a non-man, and not everyone who is a man is a non-woman. Some people's genders aren't non-anything. Sit on that and nurture it and let it hatch and grow up to be a healthy worldview love and peace on planet earth
This is about genderfluid/multigendered people. Respect us as much as you do monogendered people NOW.
ADHD advice from non-ADHD people: start blocking out your day and put things in your google calendar
ADHD advice from ADHD people: any time you're waiting for your food to microwave YOU HAVE TO WASH DISHES WASH AS MANY AS YOU CAN THIS IS A RACE AGAINST TIME THIS IS THE ONLY TIME THIS COULD HAPPEN
i'm like a caricature in a children's show. "and then Whimsy took a deep breath, made a few polite phonecalls, and everything resolved itself 🥰" fucking hell man when do i get to punch someone hard as fuck in the jaw
So one of the things that can apparently contribute to kidney issues in cats is if they eat too much dry food and don't drink enough water; cats are adapted to get a lot of their water from their food since they're originally desert animals, and might not get enough water if they don't eat wet food. Unfortunately, Dozy won't eat wet food no matter what; she categorically refuses to touch the stuff. So a few months ago, we were looking for ways to get Dozy more fluids, and my wife noticed at the pet store a cat drink--basically meat broth with some floaty bits in--that was low-protein and meant for cats with kidney issues. So we figured, worth a try, right?
Great news: she loved it. Super tasty apparently. Great success. Along with the kidney-sensitive treats we found, it was a nice way to supplement her diet. Unforseen long-term consequence though: she loved it so much she began demanding it throughout the day. Like, would come up to us and meow, and meow, and meow, and not stop, until we got up, went to the kitchen, and got her some cat drink.
And by doing so on demand, we have unfortunately created a monster: no matter what we are doing at home, Dozy knows that if she sits next to you and meows, 1) you know what she wants, and 2) you know that she will not stop until you get it for her now. And when you do get it, she gets extremely excited. She will bum rush the kitchen door as you enter. She will run around your feet as you open the can. She will let out the creakiest, crunchiest, most nails-on-the-chalkboard meow you've ever heard if she thinks you're not going fast enough.
I do not begrudge her this. It is gratifying to care for a creature whose most ardent desires are so simple that it is this easy to fulfill them. But I am a little sad, because I know in my heart that I have never loved any comestible as much as she loves this cat drink. She has a pleasure of a purity and intensity that I will never know.
but ykw at least i'm not on mount everest. at least i'm not paying tens of thousands of dollars to slowly suffocate in a 300-person line at the gates of hell. never in my life will i have to be steered in a hypoxic stupor through the maze of poop and corpses atop mount everest. on this earth a lot of horrible things can happen to you without your permission but there are a few that you have to opt into. you can just say no thanks! and be guaranteed never to have to be on mount everest. much to be grateful for actually
domestic rabbot getting it on after working the night shift together (Robby pulls a double or something) and he’s exhausted, bone deep exhaustion. The thing is Jack has been teasing him all day, little touches here and there, Robby swears Jack even groped him a little while passing through the hub trying to get to the bathroom. So he’s both keyed up and can barely stand on his feet. He can lean on Jack though, he hears his murmuring in the shower as they both wash the day of themselves, and it ends with Robby being fed, washed, and thoroughly fucked. (can u tell i just wanna see Robby pampered 👀)
Double Shift
4k of Robby being tired and pampered
The on-call room was dark with the only light bleeding in from the crack beneath the door. Robby laid on the narrow bed, still in his scrubs, one arm thrown over his eyes. He'd been trying to sleep for what felt like hours. Trying and failing, his body thrumming with a dragging tiredness that refused to let him actually rest. He'd worked a full day of trauma cases, difficult patients, and the endless paperwork that multiplied like rabbits in the dark corners.
Then the call had come, perfectly aligned with the new policy of double attending coverage, and could he please cover? Please? They were short staffed. Per usual. On top of Shen catching the flu. Robby had agreed because saying no felt like admitting he couldn't handle it, and Michael Robinavitch didn't know how to do that.
The door opened slowly, letting in a sliver of fluorescent light from the hallway, eating the dark sanctuary of the room. Robby didn't move, refusing to acknowledge its existence. He knew those footsteps that followed well enough, the slight unevenness of the gait, the way Jack moved through the world with a practiced ease that belied the missing part of his leg.
"Michael." Jack's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as the door clicked shut behind him. Plunging them back into near total darkness. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead."
"Fuck off," Robby mumbled into his own bicep. "S'not time. I just closed my eyes."
Jack laughed. "Can't do that. Your night shift started ten minutes ago."
"Cover for me."
"I already am. That's the problem." He felt the mattress dip as Jack sat on the edge of the bed and then warm fingers were brushing the hair back from his forehead. "Come on. You’ve missed rounds already."
"This is cruel and unusual." Robby muttered, his voice rough.
Jack hummed, that low warm sound, that always seemed to find its way into Robby's chest no matter how tired he was. "Cruel and unusual? You're the one who said yes to pulling the double."
"Pulling doubles was a lot easier thirty years ago."
"I'm sure you'll find a way to keep up. But for now..." Jack's fingers traced over Robby's cheek, down his jaw, then the column of his throat. His hand drifted lower, palm flattening against Robby's chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath the scrubs. "We've got a shift to work."
Robby's eyes were still closed, but he was more aware now. Jack's touch had a way of cutting through the fog and pulling him back to his body. He let out a slow breath, feeling himself start to stir despite the exhaustion.
"Jack, your hand is on my chest."
"I'm aware."
"And you're... moving it lower."
Jack hummed, as his fingertips found the waistband of Robby's scrub pants, dipping just beneath the elastic. "Am I?"
Robby's hips twitched involuntarily, as his body tried to keep up. "You're supposed to be waking me up, not... this."
"This is waking you up." Jack's mouth was suddenly at his ear, warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. "I can feel part of you waking up, in fact. Very... clearly."
Robby's face flushed. "You're an ass."
"You like my ass."
"That's—" Robby started to protest, but Jack's fingers had found what they were searching for, curling around his soft cock through the thin boxers. He could feel himself hardening and the wet spot of precum blooming where Jack's thumb circled his tip. The remaining words died in his throat.
Jack stroked him slowly and lazily. "You never take care of yourself," he murmured, lips brushing Robby's earlobe. Jack's voice was low and intimate, the kind of tone that usually preceded very nice things. "But not tonight, yeah? Tonight, you're going to let me take care of you."
Robby's breath hitched. He wanted to say something, wanted to make some snide comment about how Jack was taking care of him. Jack's thumb was circling the head of his cock, and he was already so tired, and—
And Jack pulled his hand away, leaving Robby half hard and gasping for air.
"Jack," Robby finally moved his arm, blinking up at Jack's face in the dim light. Jack was fully dressed, clearly ready for his own shift, dark circles absent from beneath his eyes. The bastard had actually slept.
“Fuck." Robby's voice cracked. "Jack, you can't—"
"Can't what?" Jack stood, all innocence, adjusting his own scrubs. "Can't remind my boyfriend what he's got waiting for him when we're done saving lives?" He was already at the door, hand resting on the handle. "Come on, sleepyhead. Night shift's waiting."
Robby stared at him for a long minute, something hot and frustrated coiling in his gut, fighting the tiredness in his bones. He wanted to grab Jack, pull him back, and demand he finish what he started. Robby was too groggy to fight it.
"You're an ass," Robby said, forcing himself to sit up. The room swam for a moment and he blinked rapidly until it steadied. "You know that, right?"
"I've been told." Jack opened the door, flooding the room with light. "Coming?"
Robby groaned, swinging his legs off the bed. "Apparently not."
Jack's laugh echoed down the hallway as Robby stumbled after him, still half hard and fully miserable about the whole situation.
The night shift in the ED was a different beast than the day shift. Quieter at times even though the same chaos still churned beneath the surface. Fewer administrators wandering around and fewer families filling up the waiting room. Just the steady hum of the machines and the nurses moving through their rotations. Robby should have been grateful for the relative calm. He moved on autopilot, his body running on caffeine, spite and the occasional jolt of adrenaline when a trauma came in. Jack, naturally, was thriving in his environment. He was everywhere, running the desk, handling borders, popping into rooms to check on patients. And without fail, every time he passed by Robby, he found a way to touch him.
It started small. A hand on Robby's shoulder as they passed in the hall fingers squeezing just a little too long. A brush of shoulders as Jack reached past him for a chart at the hub. The warmth of Jack's body pressed against his back for just a moment too long as they both stared at the same monitor. Robby gritted his teeth and tried to focus on his work.
Another trauma came in inevitably, a motor vehicle accident, possible internal bleeding. Robby threw himself into it grateful for the distraction to keep him alert. He took over the primary assessment, his voice steady and calm, despite the way his body was still humming. He could do this. He'd done this a thousand times. Except this time Jack was right there, working alongside him, handing him instruments before he even asked for them. Their fingers brushed, and Jack's eyes met his, and Robby felt something hot flare in his chest.
"Good catch," Jack murmured, low enough that only Robby could hear. "You're doing great."
Robby's face flushed beneath his mask. "Focus," he managed. It’s dumb really. It’s not like he hasn’t worked plenty of times alongside Jack with a patient. They’ve known each other’s rhythm perfectly long enough for none of this to be surprising.
Jack's hand found the small of his back, a brief, grounding pressure that lingered even after Jack fully passed behind to help with the intubation. Robby watched him work. That deceptively strong body moving with the practiced ease of threading a needle. Robby tore his eyes away, focusing on the patient, this was not the time nor place to focus on Jack’s thick gloved fingers.
The trauma was quickly stabilized and transferred up to the OR. Robby stood in the hallway, letting out a long breath, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion as he stripped off his PPE. He'd been on his feet for nearly too many hours now. His sore back ached. His eyes burned.
"Robby."
He turned to find Jack approaching with a mug in hand. Jack held it out and Robby took it gratefully. The coffee he'd drunk hours ago had long since worn off.
"Thanks," he said, and Jack smiled.
"Just doing my job."
"Your job does not include making coffee."
"It includes taking care of people." Jack stepped closer, close enough that Robby could smell him, as he leaned against the hub beside him. "And you're my favorite person. So."
Robby shook his head, but there was a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the fresh-ish coffee. "That’s excessive."
"You love it." Jack's fingertips found his hip, holding on for a lingering moment, before pulling away. "Go sit down for a few minutes. I'll keep an eye on things."
"I'm fine."
"You're running on fumes." Jack's eyes sharpened with a gaze that missed nothing. "Go take a break. That's an order."
Robby opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his tongue. He was tired, edging towards bone deep exhaustion, and he wasn't doing anyone any favors by pushing through it. "Fine. Fifteen minutes."
"Good boy."
The two little words sent a shot of liquid heat through Robby's body. He turned away before Jack could see the flush on his cheeks and retreated to the break room. But even sitting down, he couldn't relax. His body was still keyed up from Jack's constant teasing, the little touches and suggestive comments that had been peppered throughout the night. He was hard again, just from the memory of Jack's hand on his back, the way Jack's eyes had raked over him at any opportunity.
The night dragged on, more cases, more patients, It went on like that for hours. Every time Robby started to flag, started to feel the bone deep exhaustion creeping back in, Jack would appear. With another whispered comment about how good Robby looked. They were passing each other in the hall near the bathrooms when it happened. Jack's hand found his ass, a quick, firm squeeze that made Robby's feet stumble.
“Jack—"
"Just going to take a leak," Jack said innocently.
"Bathroom's the other way," Robby trying to sound annoyed and not like his face was flushing.
"I know." Jack didn't even look back, just tossed a grin over his shoulder. "Just wanted to get your attention."
"You have all of my attention."
"Promises, promises." Jack then disappeared not towards the bathroom, leaving Robby to stand in the hallway, aching and desperate for more again.
He made his way back to the main hub, trying to focus on anything other than the way Jack's hand had felt on him. It was impossible. Every touch, every look, every word had been building toward something all night, and Robby was going to combust before he ever made it home. By the time 7 AM rolled around Robby was a wreck.
His double shift was officially over. The familiar faces of day shift were filtering in, taking over the cases, as morning rounds circled around him. Robby stood in the middle of it, staring blankly at the board, unable to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
"Robby." Jack's voice was warm at his ear. "Time to go home."
"Yeah." Robby blinked, trying to get his bearings. "Yeah. Okay. I just need to—"
"I've got it already." Jack's hand held out Robby’s backpack and helmet. “I’m going with you."
"Go where?"
"Home. Your place." Jack's eyes were warm, but there was something deeper there too, a flicker of concern rather than heat. "You can barely stand. You're not riding home alone."
"I'm fine. It’s a ten minute ride. Take your truck, I’ll meet you there.”
"You're swaying."
Robby opened his mouth to argue, but the truth of it hit him at that moment. His body was operating on pure stubbornness, and even that was starting to give out. "Fine, you're on the back. I’m not letting you drive.”
Jack's smile was slow and devastating. "I can work with that.”
They left together, out through the ambulance bay doors, walking through the quiet morning air to where Robby's motorcycle was parked. The sun was just starting to rise, painting the sky in shades of pinks and yellows. Robby barely noticed. He swung onto the bike, and Jack climbed on behind him with familiar ease, his arms wrapping around Robby's waist. The engine roared to life, and then they were moving, the wind whipping past them.
The ride home was a blur of wind and exhaust and Jack's body pressed against his back. Robby's motorcycle roared beneath them, the vibration thrumming through his body as Jack pressed flush against his back. Jack's arms were wrapped around Robby's waist and his mouth at Robby's neck. The wind eating any words he might have tried to whisper. And every time they hit a bump or took a turn, Jack's hips ground against his ass. Robby could feel the unmistakable press of his hard on.
"You're doing this on purpose," Robby shouted over the roar of the engine at the next red light.
Jack's laugh was breathless against his throat. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this."
Robby could feel Jack's mouth on his neck, open and hot, and he almost swerved when Jack’s hand cupped his dick. The bike wobbled dangerously before he got it under control.
"Jack. Hands on the gas tank."
"I'm holding onto you."
"Not—" Robby's voice cracked. "Not like that."
Jack's laugh was wicked. "You're no fun."
It was a wonder they made it home at all. Robby kicked off his shoes, dropped his bag by the door, and immediately felt the full exhaustion crash over him. He'd been running on adrenaline and spite for the last few hours, and now that he was home, all of that energy was draining away.
"I'm done pulling doubles.” Robby announced, leaning against the wall.
Jack laughed, as he took off his own shoes, his movements careful as he balanced against the wall across him. His hands found their home on Robby's hips after. "Working with me all night was really that bad, huh?”
He kissed Robby then, tender and slow, the press of his lips a light apology. Robby sagged against him, letting Jack take his weight, and letting his eyes fall closed. Jack's mouth was warm, and his hands were steady, and for the first time in the past twenty-four hours Robby felt something like surrender. Until Jack's tongue swiped across his lower lip and the surrender gave way to heat.
"Bed," Robby managed. "Now."
"Shower first." Jack's hands were already sliding under Robby's scrub top, palms hot against his soft stomach. "You smell like the hospital."
"Don't care."
"I care." Jack nudged him back toward the bedroom, stripping Robby's shirt up and off as they went. "You get in that bed like this, and you're going to pass out before I even get you open. I know how these things work with you."
Robby wanted to argue. He really did. But Jack was already working on his scrub pants, and Robby's dick was painfully interested, and the idea of Jack's hands on him under hot water—
"Fine." Robby conceded, hating how breathless he already sounded.
Jack stripped them both as they walked with none of the teasing from earlier. They ended up in the bathroom as Robby’s boxers were pushed down his legs. Jack turned the water on, then bent to remove his prosthesis, propping it against the wall. Robby watched, as he always did, noting the careful way Jack managed his balance. They stepped into the shower together, the hot water sluicing over their shoulders, and making Jack’s curls flatten out. Robby groaned as the heat hit his aching muscles and he leaned his weight against the wall.
Jack soaped up a washcloth and Robby watched through half lidded eyes as Jack washed him. His chest, his arms, and his back. The cloth was gentle against his skin and each stroke was a small act of devotion. When Jack washed his hair, Robby let his head fall back, a soft moan escaping his parted lips.
"Good?" Jack hummed.
"Mm. Keep going."
Jack laughed, but he obeyed. His hands were deep in Robby's hair now, working the shampoo through the strands, massaging his scalp. Robby was putty in his hands as all of the tension slowly washed away down the drain. Eyes fluttering closed as he leaned his weight into the warmth of Jack’s chest. Jack’s mouth found him in a kiss that was slow and deep. Robby tasted the lingering traces of coffee on Jack's tongue, felt the scratch of his stubble, and let himself be pulled under.
Jack kissed him until he was breathless and then pulled back with a soft smile. "There you are. I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep."
"Almost," Robby admitted. "You're very warm."
"I know. But I'm also very hard, and I've been thinking about this for twelve hours." Jack's hand slid down, wrapping around Robby’s cock making his hips jerked forward. "So I need you to stay awake for me. Can you do that?"
Robby’s answer back was a whimper.
Jack laughed and kissed him again. "I'll take that as a yes."
When Jack's fingers found his ass next, Robby jerked awake with a shuddering jolt. "Jack—"
"I've got you." Jack's mouth was at his throat now kissing the hollow beneath his jaw. "I've got you, baby. Just let me take care of you."
Robby's head was spinning. The steam, the heat, the water pressure, and Jack's hands on his body. It was too much and not enough. He could feel himself getting hard again despite the bone-deep exhaustion. Jack's fingers were slick with soap, sliding across his skin, dipping between his cheeks with maddening slowness.
"You're so good," Jack murmured, lips brushing his ear. His fingers circled Robby's hole making him gasp. "Keep being good for me."
Robby whined. It was an embarrassing sound, high and needy, and he couldn't bring himself to care. He was too tired to maintain his dignity. Too keyed up to pretend he didn't want this after being teased all night long.
Jack turned Robby, with a hand on his hip, pressing him against the wall. The cool tile was a shock against Robby's overheated skin as his hands braced. Jack's fingers were sliding into Robby, two of them, stretching him open with practiced ease. Robby’s hips bucked back against Jack's hand. It felt so good, Jack's thick fingers working him open, curling against that spot inside him that made him pant.
"Jack," he gasped. "More. I need—" Robby couldn’t handle another pointless edging.
"I know what you need." Jack was pressing a kiss to his shoulder, the spot he'd bitten a bruise into two days ago. "I'm getting you ready, baby. Don't rush me."
But Robby couldn't help it. He was so close, so desperate, and Jack's fingers weren't enough. They weren't Jack. They weren't filling him the way he needed to be filled. "Not enough. It's not enough."
Jack's fingers slowed. "What do you need, baby?"
"You. I need you. Please, Jack, I need you."
Jack's laugh was soft, but in no way less endeared. "Okay. Okay, Mikey. Let's get you to bed."
He turned off the water, and Robby stood shivering in the rapidly cooling air, watching as Jack reached for a towel. He dried them both off with a quick rub down.
"Bed," Jack ordered with a gentle swat to Robby’s thigh with the towel. "Go lay down. I'll be right there."
Robby obeyed without question, which should have been a sign of just how gone he was. He stumbled into the bedroom, not bothering with anything, just face planting into the cool sheets. His dick was hard against his stomach, pressing into the mattress, and he rutted against it mindlessly trying to find friction.
"None of that." Jack's voice came from the doorway, Robby hadn't heard him approach, hadn't heard the crutches tapping against the hardwood. "I told you I'd take care of you."
Jack climbed onto the bed, his body settling over Robby's back, the weight of him was solid and smothering.
"Still with me?" Jack asked, lips brushing Robby's shoulder blade.
"Mmph."
"That's not an answer."
Robby turned his head, just enough to catch Jack's eye. "Don't stop," he managed. "Please. Don't."
Jack's expression softened. "I wasn't planning to."
He shifted, maneuvering Robby's hips up, onto his knees. Robby went willingly, letting Jack position him like a doll. It should have been embarrassing, but with Jack, it felt like safety. To just turn everything off and let himself be handled.
Something cool and wet touched his entrance, Jack had grabbed the lube from the nightstand, and then his fingers were back sliding inside him.
"You can come," Jack murmured, teeth scraping against Robby's nape. "Whenever you need to. I've got you."
But it wasn't enough. Jack's fingers were thick and his mouth felt incredible against Robby's skin, but Robby needed more. The exhaustion was pulling at him, threatening to drag him under, but he couldn't let go, not yet, not like this.
"Jack." His voice cracked. "Please. Need—"
"I know, good boy." Jack pulled his fingers out, just as quickly as they had been inside him, and Robby whined at the loss. "Shh, baby. I've got you."
And then Jack was pressing inside his thick cock head sliding into Robby's body in one smooth thrust. Robby’s breath caught in a gasp, his fingers gripping the sheets, and his body weakly arching back to meet Jack.
"Ready?" Jack asked.
"Yes. Fucking—"
Jack pushed all the way in, slow and steady, Robby's brain went white. The stretch was perfect, exactly what Robby needed, and he came in a sudden, overwhelming rush. His body clenched around Jack's dick, pleasure arcing through him like lightning, and he heard himself make a high and desperate whimper.
"Good." Jack's voice was strained, but he didn't stop. "That's it. That's my good boy."
"Keep going," Robby managed, because Jack was trying to pull out and Robby wasn't done with him. "Don't stop. Don't you fucking dare—"
"Bossy." Jack thrust back in, and Robby moaned, the oversensitivity curling into something raw and new. "You get what you want, don't you."
Yes. He did. Tonight, with Jack, he did. Jack fucked him through it, the rhythm steady and deep, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through Robby's overstimulated body. Robby's mind floated somewhere above them both, drifting on the warmth that had settled into his bones. He was vaguely aware of Jack's breathing speeding up, of Jack's hips stuttering—
And then Jack pulled out, jerking himself off over Robby's back, and Robby felt the thick warmth of cum paint his skin.
"Fuck," Jack breathed. "Robby. Fuck."
Robby hummed, too far gone for words. His body was a puddle on the bed, his mind somewhere in the clouds, and all he could manage was a satisfied wriggle.
Then Jack was moving, reaching for a cloth, cleaning Robby's back with slow circles. Robby didn't move. Couldn't move even if he wanted to. His body was wrecked, boneless, floating somewhere between consciousness and sleep. Robby heard him tossed the dirty cloth towards the hamper and the thunk of it hitting the floor instead in a miss. Robby curled into him further, pressing his face against Jack's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"Going to make dinner," Jack murmured, fingers carding through Robby's damp hair. "I’ll wake you up in a bit to eat. Don’t get too comfortable.”
Robby hummed in a response, already half asleep, too gone to argue.
"Love you," Jack whispered, and Robby smiled into his chest.
"Love you too," he managed, the words slurred with exhaustion.
Jack was still talking, something about food, but Robby couldn't follow it. The words washed over him like waves, pulling him under, and then he was gone.
i write sometimes @pumpkin-stars - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
izzy806
dailybridgerton
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
