hooted and hollered while reading not gonna lie, pining!jack aaaaa
“I’m sorry, I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
But Robby didn’t know any of this.
Sure, there were casual mentions of dates, but since Liz, Robby had never even gotten a hint of something more serious brewing.
He couldn’t imagine Jack Abbot, confident, controlled, a little cocky at times, pining after someone.
A (very) short fic I wrote for @foragemefromthemoss / @sams-shark (per their request) based on when John gets sick and Jack takes care of him. It’s very subtle because they have a subtle dynamic I feel. It’s my first time writing these two so hopefully it’s okay. Enjoy.
It was the cup.
And the cold.
And the stress.
Jack had told him. He told him to take it easy, told him to do his dishes, told him to wear a warmer jacket. But as always, John was too thickheaded and refused to listen to him.
And now he’s sick in bed at home.
Well. Jack’s home.
Since, you know, John’s house is . . . indisposed at the moment.
“Here you go, some nice warm tea and honey for your throat.” Jack sets the cup down on his nightstand by John’s head.
“Thanks,” John coughs. He pulls himself up in the bed with a strained, sickly groan that pulls at the sympathy in Jack.
It was such a fight to get John to this point, all curled up in bed and docile. They’d worn each other out arguing and now John was too exhausted to protest any more of Jack’s help.
John takes the warm mug with both hands, letting the steam waft into his face. He’s all congested and his head is filled with lead. He’s hoping the hot air will clear him up a bit.
Jack stands back while John holds his tea. He would prefer to be closer but it wouldn’t do anyone any good if he were to also get sick. Especially not John. So Jack stays just a few steps away while John blows on the mug.
“I can make some lunch if you’re hungry?” Jack asks though he has a feeling he knows John’s answer. Still, he’s the type of guy who asks anyway.
“Not hungry.” John sips the tea. He makes a face of “oh too hot, no wait it’s fine” as the honey soothes his sore throat.
“Alright then, you just sleep.” Jack starts making his way out of his bedroom where’s gotten John all situated. It’s not entirely ideal, but Jack doesn’t have any other rooms or beds and he wasn’t about to force John onto his very lumpy and uncomfortable couch while the man’s sick.
~
Jack comes in to check on John every few hours to make sure the man’s doing alright. He’s a very attentive caretaker. Especially towards the man he has a crush–his partner who he respects so much.
“John? You awake?” Jack calls out in a whisper in case the man isn’t. He opens the door slowly and as quietly as he can to avoid making any creaks.
There isn’t a response and Jack can only infer that John is in fact asleep. He very sneakily makes his way further into the room with the intent to still check on John anyway.
By the bed, Jack can see John’s sleeping face covered in sweat from his fever. Jack figured as much that John would still be running hot even in his sleep so he’d come prepared with a mixing bowl full of cold water and a wash cloth already damp and wrung out.
Jack carefully places the wash cloth on John’s forehead, hoping not to disturb the man. He waits for a moment, a little tense at the idea of waking John prematurely. It would only cause the man to be even grumpier.
When it’s clear he’s safe, Jack gently places the mixing bowl on his nightstand next to John’s empty mug, for which he grabs in return to take to the sink. Just as sneakily as he’d arrived, Jack departs in equal measure.
~
“Thanks,” John says suddenly through his cigarette. Jack turns to look at him.
“For wha–“
“For looking after me.”
“Oh.” Jack has to hide his face and the smile on it. “It was nothing.” He’s playing it cool. So cool.
John blows out a puff of smoke, resting his hand over the porch railing he’s propped up against, the cigarette hanging between his two fingers. Jack sneaks a peak from the corner of his eye, taking in the tired but respectable silhouette he admires so much.
“Wanna go for a drink? My treat.” John stares at the starry night sky and takes a drag of his smoke.
Wait? Did he just ask Jack out on a date? Or is it just a guy’s night out thing? Or is this just to make up for nursing him back to health all weekend?
Either way, Jack isn’t about to decline. He stops himself from reacting too strongly. “Yes!–sure. I mean. Sure. Les’ go.” He straightens out against the railing.
John nods, finishing his cigarette before smushing it out on the railing. He puts the butt in his current smoke pack to throw out later and walks down the porch to their shared squad car.
Jack follows behind, brimming with excitement and nerves.
It’s not a date. John’s just being nice, that’s all.
But it could be a date, is the thing.
Jack doesn’t let himself think as this as a date, lest his hopes are crushed at the end of the night. He’ll just enjoy spending social time with his crush–partner who he respects so much.
rabbot rec: Headed North by Entropicequilibriumofchaos
2k, pg
jack angsting and pining during robby's sabbatical
The first time the call goes to voicemail, Jack just hangs up with a sigh. At least Robby would see that he called. Know that Jack’s thinking about him.
It isn't until the fourth failed call that Jack starts leaving messages after the tone.
“Hey Rob, it's Jack.”
