Unconventional Truth: Nine
"What in the hell is that?" Dana asked watching you come through the door with that looked like a box that weighed as much as you did.
"A new betting pool," Robby said grinning.
"Oh shit!" Dana hissed, "Is that-"
"Oh yeah. One history professor that can make Jack Abbot blush," he muttered. Louder, so you can hear him, he called, "Y/N what brings you all the way down here?"
"Well," you huff, readjusting your box. "It's the end of the session for summer classes. So. Stress baking. And that means I have goodies to bring to my favorite Emergency department."
"What kind of goodies?" Dana asked, standing on her toes to peek in the box.
"Cookies, Zucchini bread, and blueberry muffins," you tell her, grinning. "The cookies are chocolate chip."
Robby whistled and took the box with an exaggerated grunt, "Did you make enough? I don't think you did, Professor."
"I shot for feeding an army," you muse. If you run out hit me up in like six weeks when I start my next round of edits and I'm ready to put my head through a wall."
He snorted, "C'mon. I'll show you where to put it."
He lead you down the hall. Aware that you were caffeinated enough to be practically vibrating as you skipped along next to him. And the contrast between you doing that and walking next to Abbot tickled him. He'd never SEEN the two of you walk next to each other but he'd seen the way the two of you texted.
No one smiled at their crotch out of nowhere. And even if he didn't laugh out loud he smirked. Or snorted. A lot. And he blushed. Things you said made him blush. Jack fucking Abbot. He might as well be kicking his feet and twirling his hair.
And he NEEDED some other people in the pit to see this. Especially Dana. Dana would clock if this was going to pan out in 0.4 seconds. Because Robby really wanted it to.
Jokes aside, this was good for Jack. He was brooding less. His shoulders didn't sag when he walked out of work and into the sunlight. It was like he didn't ry to hide from his own life anymore. And for the few minutes as he helped you unload the box (thoughtfully packed with plastic knives for the bread, plates, and napkins) he debated on saying something.
"Any plans this weekend?" he asked, settling finally on keeping in neutral.
"Well. I have a show to play here in town. And Walker got a job so... not really," you laugh. "Enjoying some quiet."
"Where's the show?" he asked, cocking his head. "Might do a staff bonding-"
"If you want to get a bunch of interns drunk at a folk rock show-"
"Sounds like a great way to torment Jack," he said grinning.
"I. Know. NOTHING." You tell him, pointing viciously, eyes narrowing.
"What's he got on you?" he asked, eyes crinkling.
"I'm not drunk or being waterboarded, so-"
"I won't tell a soul," he swore, grinning, holding up his hands.
"I trust you as far as I can throw you and I can't fucking throw you."
Robby sighed in mock defeat, "Hot and smart. I give. Just, please... For the sake of tormening a mutual friend. Where's your show?"
"You wanna use my art to torture someone and you want me to help you do it?" you ask, looking up at him wounded.
Fuck, Robby thought. "I uh- I didn't mean-"
But before Robby could formulate a good response the breakroom door swung open and Jack looked at the scene, "Robinavich, what'd you do?"
"Nothing, he just wanted to know about the show Friday," you tell him quickly, smiling up at him.
"It's at Mac's and starts at 7:30, right?" Jack said, moving out of the way so Dana could inspect your baked offering and shooting Robby a warning look.
You nod, "That's the one, why?"
"That bar actually has decent beer," he said. "Figured I'd go-"
"You hate going to my shows," you point out. "Too many nerds, remember?"
Jack shrugged, "I like good beer. And the music's not bad."
"At least I know you can turn your hearing aid down if you get annoyed," you snort, rolling your eyes.
Behind you, Dana inhales a cookie crumb and bursts into a coughing fit that masks a laugh and rushes for water and Robby's lips become suspiciously thin. "Whatever, Brat," Jack said, neck flushing. "I'll drive so you can have your post-show drinks in peace."
"Jack, I told you Dominic doesn't-"
Robby's cough to cover a laugh made you pause and before you could say more Jack steered you out of the room handily, looping his arm through yours.
"Verdict?" Robby asked helping himself to a piece of bread.
"Oh. He's a fucking goner," Dana said laughing as she shook her head. "Dunno what life did to that girl but it made her just his type."
Jack waited on the roof for hand off and leaned on the railing patiently. Replaying the look on your face when he came into the breakroom. What had Robby said to you?
You looked stung. Not devastated. And Robby was fumbling, like he hurt you on accident. Maybe it was nothing. But it still put his hackles up.
When the door opened, he waited until the other man's heavier steps stopped next to his. "So what really happened in the lounge?" he asked. Straightforward. No equivocation. No chess match.
Robby leaned on the railing and huffed a laugh, "I was trying to get her to tell me where her show was to trick you into going-"
"I was already going to go."
"I didn't know that," Robby reminded. "And I didn't think you were into that kind of-"
"The shows are chill," Jack said. "Not too crowded. People are polite mostly. Y/N and her band know a lot of people so there's a revolving door of people that just wander over and chat and wander off." He shrugged, "My therapist said it's good for me."
Robby coughed, "Well. I was teasing her and said that getting you to go would be a good way to torment you- I think I hurt her feelings."
Jack glanced at him sideways, "Ya think?"
"It was a joke after I asked about plans and-"
Jack exhaled slowly, "You should go Friday."
"See what it's really like. You know, since you think it's torture. Maybe if you go support a local artist-"
"Okay okay!" Robby said holding up his hands, "Just don't hit me. I'll go Friday and behave. I'll even get other people to go-"
"Don't let them kill the mood," Jack sighed. "I just want to go enjoy a couple beers and listen to nerds argue about weird shit."
