It takes three weeks of Robby being back from sabbatical to notice that something is different. It's one of those tiny little things where if you don't know what you're looking for, you won't find it, but you can tell something is different. It takes another week to notice that when people talk to Robby about Frank, it's always Frank, or Langdon, or Doctor Langdon.
Robby doesn't know why that, of all things, is sticking with him, sitting with a slight irritation under his skin, but it is. That's Frank's name, it's always been Frank's name, so why does it bug him?
It starts to occur to him on a cold, snowy Wednesday morning at hand off when he hears someone talk about Abbot's guy. How cool and handsome he is. At first, he thinks it's Shen or Crus and brushes it off. Then he keeps hearing it, Abbot's boy, Abbot's guy. It's solid praise, and it piques Robby's curiosity, but the same irritation is back, building under his skin like a bad itch.
And then he hears Dana's words during a hand-off: "Are you ever going to let Frank back onto the day shift, or are you just fully planning to turn your boy into one of your little nightcrawlers?"
Your boy?
Robby can only stand there as the question replays again and again in his mind until it's boiled down to only those two words. Your boy.
It hits him fast and hard, coloured in possessive jealousy and anger, with the weight of a physical blow. Somehow, Frank had stopped being his guy, his boy, and while Robby was gone, while he continued to push Frank away, Frank had become Jack's guy, Jack's boy, Jack's right hand.
Robby lost the one thing a small part of him was so confident he would never fully lose, that no matter what, even with their fight and the betrayal and the hurt on both sides, everyone still thinks of Frank as Robby's. Robby would still have that tiny little bit of Frank he was too selfish to ever give up.
He had lost that to his best friend, to Jack, and he knew when Jack's eyes met his, and he saw the realisation bloom in them, that Jack would make him fight like hell to get his boy back.
I joked nearly two months ago about starting a dumb fic about Jack and Frank, and how I didn't think it would never see the light of day.
(Also big thanks to @jack-abbot-sub-truther-again and @ethiopianwolfluvr14 for being excited for this since it gave me motivation to take it past the 3 sentences it was when I first posted about it)
Also Available on Ao3
Admittedly, Frank Langdon was a lot of things; a father, an ex husband, a recovering addict, a penguins fan, but above all of that, he was one thing, and that was petty.
He genuinely thought getting thrown out of the hospital that he worked so hard at would be the worst day of his life. Then Abby left him, so at least Frank had a new lowest point. He thought coming back to PTMC would bring him some sort of light and purpose. Robby telling him he wasn't wanted in the one place he felt like he had left hurt more than anything else.
He had enough of Robby just flat out ignoring him, even going as far as sending him to work in triage, when his talent could be better used to help patients. Instead, he was stuck here.
He figured if Robby was just going to ignore him, that he may as well ignore him right back.
The first thing he did was request to transfer to the night shift. It meant he could spend more of the custody time that he did with Tanner and Penny. He left them with a nanny at night while he worked, so he could get as much time with them as possible during the day.
The only person he told about the change was Mel, even if he did assure her that he would still see her at hand off.
Quite frankly, he wasn’t going to stay somewhere his presence wasn’t wanted. If Robby was going to insist that he didn’t want Frank working in his ED, then he wouldn’t. He would more than happily take his talents to night shift where they would at least be appreciated.
He got through the first night shift with red bull and brute force.
The second night, he just kept his head down at hand off, to avoid seeing Robby, and his disappointed eyes.
That was until he heard his name from Robby’s lips.
He kept his eyes down, so it wasn’t so obvious that he was eavesdropping on the two attendings.
Robby’s tone was somewhat snippy, considering he was talking to the guy who, for the most part was just looking forward to getting this handoff over with. "Still can't believe you willingly took him onto nightshfit."
Jack shrugged a bit. "He's a damn good doctor, Brother. Don't know why you were being a dick to him."
Robby cut him a glare. "Jack, he got caught stealing meds, from the hospital. Why would I still trust him to work here?”
“Because he got the help he needed.” Jack pointed out. “If it doesn’t affect how he is as a doctor now, I honestly don’t give a shit.”
Frank hadn’t been expecting that. Dr. Abbot was actually defending him? Well, if nothing else it felt good to know that he still had someone in his corner at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.
He waited till those from day shift had filtered out to actually approach Jack. “Hey, I just…wanted to say thank you, for sticking up for me to Robby.” He admitted.
Jack smiled a bit. “It’s nothing, Langdon. Really.” He admitted. “Honestly for a good doctor, Robby doesn’t know how to get his head out of his own ass sometimes.”
That was enough to get a laugh out of Frank.
He shook his head a bit. “What can I say? I’m just glad to be somewhere that my talents are appreciated.”
Hearing him say that seemed to strike a nerve in Jack. He knew that wasn’t like Robby. He was the type to make sure that everyone felt appreciated. To know that he would just cast aside one of his own over a mistake that anyone could have made hurt.
Well, his loss was going to Jack’s gain. He didn’t really know all that much about Frank, aside from the fact that he had a wife. Outside of Robby, McKay, and Dana he honestly didn’t know that much about anyone on day shift.
“Y’know, Robby didn’t really tell me what it was that you got busted for.” He said casually.
Frank bit his lip, and looked up from his charting. “Got caught stealing benzos to deal with chronic back pain. Got put on involuntary leave. Had to go to rehab for 10 months…” He admitted. He didn’t dare look up yet. He didn’t want to see yet another person in this hospital looking at him with disgust, or worse, pity.
When he did finally manage to look up at him, there was something in Jack Abbot's eyes that he wasn’t expecting; respect.
Jack waited till Frank was looking him in the eye to speak up. “Kid, in knowing veterans over the years, I have known plenty of addicts. I know the kind of work it takes to get clean, much less stay clean.” He admitted. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”
The bright look in his eyes, and the smile on Frank’s face struck a nerve within Jack. By his guess, it must have been a long time since Langdon had heard that.
Frank managed to crack a joke. “Don’t call me kid, I’m only 35.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I still got 20 years on your ass. So I’m calling you kid.”
The rest of the shift ran about as smoothly as it could have, considering it was an emergency room.
By 7, when it was time yet again for hand-off, Frank was ready to go home, and sleep for as long as possible. He was snapped out of it, by Jack talking to him yet again.
“Kid, you wanna go get breakfast? Or is the wife expecting you home?” He asked.
Frank shook his head. “Well, that’s the thing about being divorced. Abby doesn’t really give a shit where I am now, unless it’s a custody hand-off.” He told him, hoping that it at least somewhat sounded like a joke.
He noticed the ring on Jack’s finger. “So sure, if your wife won’t mind you taking a recovering addict out to breakfast, I’d love to.”
Jack bit his lip. “I mean I don’t know if my dead wife would care too much about who I’m hanging out with in the mornings…” He admitted.
A look of panic flashed in Frank’s eyes. He was sputtering over his words, realizing that he might have just screwed things up before they even started. “I…Shit, sorry I didn’t know.”
Jack put his hand on Frank’s shoulder, as the two of them were heading out to the staff parking lot. “Frank, relax. There’s no way you could have known. I don’t exactly go around telling people here.” He admitted.
Frank nodded, suddenly finding the crack in the sidewalk incredibly interesting. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He told him softly.
Jack simply nodded, and tilted his head towards his familiar black pick up. “C’mon. we can take my truck.” He told him.
Frank nodded. He could come back for his car later. He followed Jack and climbed into the passenger seat of his truck. There was something that felt easy about it all, just two coworkers going to get some breakfast together after a long night shift.
A comfortable silence settled in the truck as Jack drove. Frank kept his gaze firmly out the window, worried that his previous comment had made things too weird between them.
Jack finally broke the tension. “So uh…you watch sports?”
Frank gleefully spent a good chunk of the rest of the car ride talking about hockey stats.
After a bit, he looked over at Jack. “I… Sorry about that. It’s just… been a while since I had someone that I could talk about all of this stuff about.” He admitted sheepishly.
Jack shook his head, as he parked at the diner that he would sometimes frequent after a long shift. “Don’t be sorry. Kinda nice to know that you have something that makes you so happy, Langdon.”
Frank smiled, following Jack inside once they were both out of the truck. “Please. We’re not at work. You can call me Frank if you want.” He offered.
Jack nodded and opened the door for him. “Alright, Frank.”
The two of them were settled into a booth, when the waitress came over. “Oh, wow, Dr. Abbot, you brought a friend with you this morning.” She murmured, before glancing at who was sat across from her favorite early morning regular. “Oh shit, hey Frankie.”
Frank froze in place when he heard that. He had thought the whole part of the anonymous of Narcotics Anonymous was to explicitly avoid things like this. He had to clear his throat. “Nice to see you to Lucy.”
Jack looked between the two of them. “Wait, you two know each other?”
Lucy nodded. “I was about to ask you the same thing,” she admitted to Jack.
Frank kept his eyes glued to the table. “Lucy and I go to the same meetings, “ he explained, before finally looking up at the waitress, “And Jack would be one of my coworkers from the hospital.”
Lucy nodded, knowing it would be best to drop it. “Alright. Well I already know that Jack is gonna want the same thing that he eats every time that he comes in here. Frank, what about you?” She asked.
Frank had lost any semblance of an appetite that he’d had when he walked in the door. “I’ll just have the same as Jack. I trust Dr. Abbot.” He murmured.
Lucy nodded, and wrote it down, before heading off.
Jack noticed the tension that had seemed to flood Frank’s body from that simple interaction. “Langdon, look at me.” He told him. He waited till he was sure Frank’s eyes were on him before he continued speaking. “Relax your shoulders. Unclench your jaw.” He told him gently. “You’re good, Frank. I’m not here to judge you.”
The simplicity of the instructions that Jack gave him were easy for Frank. He took a deep breath. His words came out softer than he’d intended, “Thanks, Jack.”
Once the food arrived, the two sat, enjoying their pancakes and eggs, just shooting the shit. It was casual. It took a lot of the pressure off of Frank. It made him feel more at ease.
Jack smiled, as he paid for both of their meals (after a bit of a huff from Frank, who tried to insist on paying for his own breakfast), he led the two of them back out to his truck. “So, you got any plans after this, Langdon?” He asked casually.
Frank shook his head. “Probably going home and trying to get as. much sleep as possible before having to get back to the Pitt at 7 sharp to do it all again for another day.” He admitted. It felt like all he did when it wasn’t his week with the kids, all he did was work, meetings and sleep. It was a boring existence, but he was still getting used to it.
Jack bit his lip, the gears already turning in his head. “How far is your place from the hospital?” He asked.
Frank had to think about it for a moment. “The apartment I’m renting is like 30 to 45 minuets, depending on traffic.” He admitted.
Jack could see the air of pure exhaustion that was radiating off of Frank. Part of him felt bad. He wanted help. He didn’t speak again till they were in his truck. “Alright, I know the plan was for me to take you back to the hospital to get your car so you could go home, but I have a new idea to propose.”
Frank nodded, as he got buckled in. “Right, well what is the plan then? Cause I have to go back to my car at some point. You know how weird Dana is about parking.”
Jack was already sending a text, to clear it with Dana that Frank’s SUV was going to be in the staff parking for the duration of the day shift. “Don’t worry about the parking.” He told him. “We are just gonna go back to my house I’ve got a guest room that you can stay in.” He assured. “You look like you could use the extra sleep.”
Frank wasn’t going to argue. Any extra rest that he could possibly get, he was going to take. “Alright. Sounds good.”
The drive back to his place was fairly quiet. Frank was doing his best to nod off during the drive, but it was in vain. By the time Jack was parking in his driveway, Frank was out cold, slumped against the window, snoozing happily.
Jack almost didn’t have the heart to wake him, but knew that sleeping in the truck after a long shift would be the worst possible thing for Frank’s back. He gently shook his shoulder. “Langdon, c’mon. Let’s get you inside, bud.” He coaxed gently.
Frank’s bleary eyes finally met Jack’s. He nodded slowly, and followed Jack inside the house. “Which way to the guest room?” He asked with a yawn.
Jack couldn’t help his small laugh. “Down the hall on the right. I’ll come wake you up when my work alarm goes off, okay?”
Frank was already heading down the hallway. “Sounds perfect.” He murmured happily.
He couldn’t explain why, but it was some of the best rest that Frank had gotten in months.
Maybe it was the night shift exhaustion that had started to settle into his bones. Maybe it was the chocolate chip pancakes. Maybe, just maybe it was the fact that, for the first time in months, Frank Langdon didn’t have to feel so alone.
Summary: After rehab, Frank Langdon returns to the ER knowing he's on thin ice. Dr. Abbot makes it clear: if he wants back in everyone's good graces, he'll have to earn it.
Tags: top jack abbot, bottom frank langdon, plot what plot, semi-public sex, workplace sex, humiliation, supply closet, one shot
Warnings: mentions of dr. Robby
Notes: inspired by an x post by @beforeprimavera
"How are you doing, Frank?"
The voice was low, gravelly, and far too close. It came from the doorway of the supply closet Frank had just entered, the dim automatic light flickering to life above shelves of gauze and saline bags.
Frank Langdon flinched, the cardboard box of sterile gloves in his hands nearly tumbling to the floor. He turned. Jack Abbot filled the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking most of the fluorescent glare from the ER hallway behind him. The attending’s hazel eyes were unreadable, his face a landscape of fine freckles and silvering stubble.
"Dr. Abbot. Uh, fine. Just grabbing supplies for Bay Three," Frank stammered, his own voice sounding reedy to his ears. He was acutely aware of the space, or lack thereof. The closet was maybe five by seven, and Jack had just stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind him with a soft, definitive click.
Jack didn’t move to a shelf. He just stood there, looking at Frank. Assessing him. He felt the familiar, icy trickle of shame in his gut. He knows. Everyone knows. The golden boy of the ER, fallen from grace after his leave for rehab. The painkiller addiction that started with a back injury and ended with him weeping in his car in the parking garage.
"Robby asked me to.. talk to you," Jack said finally, his tone neutral.
Frank’s blood ran cold. "About what?" The question was out before he could stop it, laced with a fear he couldn’t disguise.
Jack didn’t explain. He just took a slow step forward. Frank instinctively took a step back, his heels bumping against the lower shelves. Another step. Another retreat. Until the cold, hard wall of medical supplies was against his back, and Jack was right there, a foot away, then six inches. The heat radiating from the older man’s body was immense.
"You think you can just waltz back in here," Jack said, his voice dropping to a murmur that vibrated in the small space, "and everything’s just great again?"
Frank’s throat was tight. He couldn’t speak. He shook his head, a minute, desperate movement.
Jack’s gaze was unwavering. "You have to work for it, Frank. If you want to be back in everyone’s good graces. You have to earn it." He leaned in, one hand coming up to brace against a shelf near Frank’s head, caging him in. "Do you understand?"
The command was absolute. It wasn’t a question from a colleague. It was an order from a superior. From the ex-military attending who ran his trauma teams with crisp, unshakable authority. Frank felt a bizarre, dizzying cocktail of terror and something else, something hot and submissive that coiled low in his belly. He’d spent the day feeling like a ghost, an apology in scrubs. This was a demand for presence.
"Yes," Frank whispered.
"Yes, what?" Jack pressed, his face so close Frank could see the darker flecks of green in his hazel irises.
Frank swallowed. "Yes, sir."
A slow, almost imperceptible nod. "Good."
Then, the words that sent a lightning bolt straight down Frank’s spine: "Turn around."
For three heartbeats, Frank didn’t move. He just stared into Jack’s composed, freckled face. This was the line. The one he could step over and reclaim something, or the one he could refuse to cross and remain in purgatory. The silence stretched, thick with the hum of the hospital and the frantic drum of his own heart.
He turned. He faced the shelves, his forehead coming to rest against a cool box of catheter kits. He heard the rustle of fabric, the quiet shush of scrub pants being pushed down. The cool air of the closet kissed the backs of his thighs, his exposed ass. He was trembling, a fine, constant vibration he couldn’t control.
Then Jack’s hands were on him. One, large and warm, splayed across the small of Frank’s back, holding him firmly in place. The other took Frank’s jaw, fingers pressing into his cheeks, tilting his head back just enough so his ear was near Jack’s mouth.
"Hold still."
Frank heard the snick of a cap, the wet, slick sound of lubrication. His breath hitched. A moment later, a cool, viscous glob was pressed against his entrance. He jerked at the intimate touch, but the hand on his back was an immovable weight.
He felt the blunt, insistent pressure then. The broad head of Jack’s thick cock, slick with lube, nudging against him. Frank’s body clenched in instinctive, shocked resistance.
"Say please."
The words were a hot breath against his ear. A final, humiliating, electric command. Frank’s mind was a white noise of panic and dizzying, unwanted arousal. He was hard, painfully so, trapped against his own scrub pants. The sheer taboo of it, here, in the hospital, with Jack, unmoored him completely. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Please," he gasped, the word torn from him.
The pressure increased, a steady, relentless force. There was a burning stretch, intense, and Frank choked back a sound. Then, with a final, firm push, Jack was inside. The fullness was shocking, overwhelming. Frank’s fingers scrabbled against the cardboard boxes, his mouth open in a silent cry.
Jack didn’t move for a long moment, seated to the hilt, letting Frank feel every inch of him. The burning began to subside, replaced by a deep, spreading pressure that seemed to radiate up his spine.
Then Jack drew back, almost all the way out, and thrust back in. A purposeful stroke that jolted Frank forward against the shelves. Again. And again. Jack set a rhythmic pace, each drive punching the air from Frank’s lungs. The initial shock melted, transmuted into something else entirely. The friction, the deep, prodding contact, began to spark pleasure. It lit him up.
"Got something you want to say to me?" Jack purred into his ear, the command embedded in the phrase.
Frank’s mind was dissolving into sensation. The pleasure was a live wire, climbing his spine with every deep, claiming stroke. It was humiliation and ecstasy welded together.
"Thank you," Frank gasped, the words automatic.
"Try that again."
Jack’s hand left his jaw, sliding down to wrap around Frank’s torso, holding him impossibly closer, angling his hips. The next thrust hit a spot that made Frank see stars, a blinding white pleasure that tore a raw, desperate moan from his throat.
The words were a sob of pure, unraveling need. "Thank you. Sir."
Jack’s rhythm fractured, becoming deeper, harder. Frank felt the coiling tension in his core snap. With a broken cry, he came, violently, stripes of white painting the cardboard boxes in front of him. The pulses of his orgasm seemed to milk the cock inside him, and that sensation tipped Jack over the edge. He drove in one last, searing time, burying himself to the root, and Frank felt the hot, liquid rush of Jack’s release filling him.
They stayed like that, locked together, panting in the dim light. Frank’s legs were jelly, his entire body humming. The heat inside him was a claiming brand. Slowly, Jack softened, slipped out. Frank winced at the sudden, empty sensitivity. He heard the rustle of clothing being righted. He couldn’t move, his forehead still pressed to the shelf. A large, warm hand landed on his shoulder, and gave a single, firm squeeze.
Then Jack was at the door, pulling it open. The brighter light from the hallway was a shock. Jack paused on the threshold, looked back at Frank, who remained against the shelves, pants around his thighs, exposed and spent. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touched Jack’s lips.
"Welcome back," he said, his voice calm and composed.
And he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving Frank alone in the closet with the smell of sex and the echo of those two words.
langdon yelps and steps back in shock as he stares at abbot who's sporting this infuriatingly handsome lopsided grin, before looking off to the side where he sees robby trying to hide a smile.
robby shrugs, "don't look at me. you asked for it."
later, after hearing a lot of whining from langdon, robby sighs and turns back to the resident who's been trailing after him all day. " what? you want me to kiss it better?"
langdon doesn't say anything, but he doesn't deny it.
