When Did You Get Hot?
Fandom: The Pitt
Pairing: Jack Abbott × Female Reader
Summary:
Years after a quiet, heartbreaking breakup at the end of high school, you and Jack Abbott unexpectedly cross paths again as coworkers at the same hospital. He’s no longer the shy, awkward boy you once loved—and you’re not the same girl either. What starts as lingering glances and almost-conversations quickly turns into something harder to ignore. Over the course of three weeks, old feelings resurface, unspoken regrets come to light, and the connection you thought was long gone proves it never really left. When you finally stop dancing around the past, you’re faced with a choice: protect your heart like before… or risk everything for a second chance that feels even stronger than the first.
You weren’t nervous.
That’s what you kept telling yourself as you walked through the sliding doors of the hospital, badge still stiff and unfamiliar clipped to your scrubs.
New job. New city. New start.
No ghosts.
Except—apparently—not all ghosts stayed buried.
“Hey, you must be the transfer from—”
You turned at the sound of a voice, polite and mid-sentence, but whatever introduction they were about to give died instantly in your ears.
Because standing a few feet away—
Frozen just like you—
—was Jack Abbott.
Your Jack Abbott.
Except… not really.
Because the boy you remembered was all crooked smiles and hunched shoulders, always a little too shy, a little too soft-spoken. He used to fidget when he talked, blush when you teased him, trip over his own words like they were obstacles he could never quite clear.
This man?
This man was… unfair.
Taller—way taller than you remembered. Broad shoulders stretching his scrubs in a way that made it very clear he’d grown into himself. His posture was confident now, grounded. His hair was styled instead of messy, his jaw sharper, his presence—
God.
“When did you get hot?” slipped out before you could stop it.
Silence.
Then—
Jack blinked.
Once.
Twice.
And then he laughed.
Actually laughed.
“Wow,” he said, running a hand through his hair, clearly caught off guard but recovering faster than you expected. “No ‘hi’? No ‘it’s been years, how are you?’ Just straight to that?”
Your face burned. “I—no—I didn’t mean— I mean, I did, but—”
“Hey,” he cut in gently, a familiar softness threading through his voice despite everything else that had changed. “It’s okay.”
And there it was.
That tiny piece of him you remembered.
The way he looked at you.
Like you were still the same girl who used to sit next to him in chemistry, passing notes and stealing glances when the teacher wasn’t looking.
“I just… didn’t expect to see you here,” you admitted.
“Yeah,” Jack said, nodding slowly. “Me neither.”
There was a pause. Not awkward—just… heavy. Full of everything you didn’t say back then.
Back when breaking up felt like the only option.
Back when life pulled you in different directions, and neither of you fought hard enough to stay.
“You look good,” he added, quieter now.
Your heart did something stupid.
“Thanks,” you said. “So do you. Obviously.”
He smiled at that—smaller this time. A little more real.
“Guess I had a few years to work on it.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
God, why were you like this?
A nurse called his name from down the hall, breaking the moment.
Jack glanced over, then back at you, something hesitant flickering behind his eyes.
“I’ve got to—uh—”
“Yeah, of course. Work,” you said quickly.
Another pause.
Neither of you moved right away.
“Hey,” he said suddenly. “You’re… here now, right? Like—not just visiting?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Transferred. I’m not going anywhere.”
Something shifted in his expression at that.
Relief.
Definitely relief.
“Good,” he said softly. “That’s… good.”
And then he turned to leave—but stopped after a step, glancing back at you with that same almost-smile.
“Also,” he added, a hint of teasing slipping in, “for the record—I was always hot. You just didn’t notice.”
You let out a breathless laugh. “Oh, please.”
He grinned.
And just like that, for a split second, he looked exactly like the boy you fell in love with.
“See you around,” he said.
“Yeah,” you replied, watching him walk away, heart racing in a way that felt dangerously familiar.
“See you around.”
But this time—
You had a feeling it wouldn’t take years.
---
Three Weeks Later
Three weeks.
Three weeks of almosts.
It started small.
Passing each other in hallways.
That first “hey” that lingered just a second too long.
Then—
“How was your shift?”
“Terrible. You?”
“Same.”
And suddenly you were walking out together.
Not on purpose.
Just… happening.
Coffee runs became routine.
Not planned.
Just—
“You grabbing coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll come with.”
You relearned each other in fragments.
Jack liked his coffee black now.
Still tapped his fingers when he was thinking.
Still looked at you like you were something important.
And you—
You still laughed at his dumb jokes.
Still noticed the way his voice softened when he said your name.
Still felt your chest tighten every time he stood a little too close.
One night, during a particularly chaotic shift, you found yourselves side by side in a trauma room.
Gloves snapping into place.
Voices steady.
Focused.
“BP’s dropping,” you said.
“I’ve got it,” Jack replied, already moving.
You worked like you had years ago—like instinct, like memory, like something that had never really left.
And when it was over—
When the patient was stable and the room finally quieted—
You looked at each other.
Breathing hard.
And for a second, it wasn’t the hospital.
It wasn’t the years apart.
It was just—
You.
And him.
“Nice work,” he said softly.
“You too.”
Neither of you moved.
Then someone walked in.
And the moment broke.
Again.
---
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore.”
You looked up from your chart, raising an eyebrow. “Do what?”
Jack leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossed, eyes fixed on yours with a kind of determination you didn’t remember him having before.
“This,” he said simply. “The almost.”
Your heart skipped. “The almost… what?”
His jaw tightened.
“Almost asking you out. Almost talking about what happened. Almost acting like we weren’t—” he exhaled “—everything to each other at one point.”
The air shifted.
Heavy.
Real.
“Jack…”
“Come get a drink with me tonight,” he said, steady now. “After shift. No interruptions. No running away this time.”
Your instinct was to deflect.
To joke.
To protect yourself like you did back then.
But instead—
“Okay.”
It surprised both of you.
Jack blinked.
Then smiled—slow and genuine.
“Okay,” he echoed.
---
That Night
The bar was dimly lit.
Quiet enough to talk.
Loud enough to hide the weight of everything sitting between you.
You sat across from each other, drinks untouched.
“This is weird,” you admitted.
Jack huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah. A little.”
“A little?” you raised an eyebrow. “We dated for years, broke up, disappeared, and now we work together and are… doing this.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds insane.”
“It is insane.”
His smile faded slightly.
“I didn’t want to lose you, you know.”
The words hit hard.
“You didn’t act like it,” you said quietly.
“I know,” he said immediately. No defense. Just honesty. “I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Everything,” he admitted. “Leaving. Failing. Not being enough for you once we weren’t just… kids anymore.”
You looked down at your drink.
“I thought you stopped loving me.”
Jack’s head snapped up.
“What? No—”
“You got distant,” you said. “You stopped showing up the way you used to. I thought… that was your way of letting go.”
“It wasn’t,” he said. “It was my way of panicking and not knowing how to hold on.”
Silence settled again.
But this time—
It wasn’t empty.
“I never stopped,” he said quietly.
Your chest tightened. “Stopped what?”
“Loving you.”
The words were simple.
But they hit like everything you’d been holding back for years.
“I tried,” he continued. “I dated. I moved on—or pretended to. But no one ever…” He shook his head. “It was always you.”
You let out a shaky laugh.
“I hate how much I relate to that.”
His gaze softened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I kept comparing everyone to you.” You looked at him fully now. “And it wasn’t fair… because no one was ever going to win that.”
Jack exhaled like something heavy had finally been lifted.
“God, we really messed this up, didn’t we?”
You smiled softly. “Yeah. We did.”
A beat passed.
Then another.
“Do you think…” he started.
“Think what?”
“That we could not mess it up this time?”
Your heart pounded.
“Maybe,” you said. “But only if we stop doing the ‘almost’ thing.”
He smiled.
“No more almost.”
“No more almost.”
And when his hand reached across the table—
hesitating for just a second—
before resting over yours—
You didn’t pull away.
---
Later
The walk outside the bar was quieter.
Cool air.
City lights.
You stood beside him on the sidewalk, neither of you quite ready to leave.
“So what now?” you asked.
Jack looked at you.
Really looked.
“Now… I ask you out properly.”
You smiled slightly. “Properly?”
“Yeah,” he said. “No history. No pressure. Just—” he hesitated “—a chance.”
Your heart softened.
“I’d like that.”
He nodded.
“Good. Because I’ve been wanting to do that for about seven years.”
You laughed.
Then—
He stepped a little closer.
Close enough that your breath caught.
“Can I?” he asked quietly.
Your answer came just as soft.
“Yeah.”
His hand brushed your cheek.
Familiar.
Careful.
And when he kissed you—
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t uncertain.
It was steady.
Like something that had waited long enough.
When you pulled back, you were both smiling.
A little breathless.
A little overwhelmed.
But sure.
“You know,” you said softly, “you really did get hot.”
Jack laughed.
“Unbelievable.”
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
And this time—
He didn’t have to.
Because this time—
You weren’t almost anything.
You were finally, completely—
Back.