@actually-a-menace gave me brainworms right before i had to go to work and it was all i thought about my entire shift so um. keep reading for jack being a flustered mess because of dennis and robby absolutely clowning on him for it. (established rabbot and unaware dennis).
also the weird and inherent intimacy of manual physical therapy. the other chronic pain girlies (gn) will understand 🙂↕️
Jack hated physical therapy, he always had. It felt like a chore, especially after so many years of having his prosthetic. After his wife had passed, he couldn’t bring himself to do more than the bare minimum to keep himself going.
And then Robby came along. When Jack and Robby started dating, Robby suggested he start doing PT more regularly. He had noticed how much pain Jack was so often in, how much Jack pushed through his discomfort rather than get to the root cause, and Robby wasn’t a fan. He hated seeing his partner—now husband—in that much pain so frequently.
Jack had acquiesced but only after months of Robby asking, and even then, he couldn’t seem to stick with one person for very long.
--
“C’mon Jack, let’s give this new place a try. One of my old med school buddies told me they specialize in amputees,” Robby was practically pleading with him.
“Mike, I’ve tried so many places, I just don’t fucking like it,” Jack shot back
Robby rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, “I know, Jack. But you can’t just ignore your leg entirely, I don’t want it to get bad again. I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Robby always did that, framed his requests of Jack as favors for himself.
Jack shot him a glare, he knew what Robby was doing, but he still folded, “Fine. One more place. And if it doesn’t work, I’m out.”
Robby sighed, “Okay, sure. Whatever you say, brother.”
--
Today was the day, their last ditch effort to get Jack to try PT and stick with it had arrived. They’d gone together because if there was one thing Jack hated more than PT it was driving after PT.
The receptionist greeted them with a smile when they walked in, “Hi! New patients?”
“Just one new patient, I’m just the husband,” Robby answered lightheartedly.
“Jack Abbot, I should have an intake today at 9am,” Jack said as he came up behind Robby.
“Yup! Looks like you’ll be with Dr. Whitaker today, have a seat and we’ll call you back when he’s ready for you!”
--
“Jack Abbot?”
Jack and Robby looked up from where they were sitting in the waiting room to see the young man, probably in his late 20s, with a head of curly brown hair and kind blue eyes who was calling Jack’s name.
“That’s you, brother,” Robby said as he stood up, giving Jack his hand to help him up.
“Hello! I’m Dr. Whitaker, but you can just call me Dennis,” the young man said when Jack and Robby walked over to him. “You must be Jack,” Dennis said before turning to Robby and continuing, “And you are?”
“Michael, the husband. Here to make sure he gives it a fair shot. Is it okay if I come back with him for the appointment?” Robby asked.
“Of course! As long as Jack is all right with that?” Dennis asked as he turned to face Jack again.
Jack had a bit of a dazed expression on his face, but he snapped out of it when Robby nudged his elbow a bit. “Oh, um, yeah, Mike can come back. He worries too much if he doesn’t,” Jack chuckled, trying to seem relaxed.
“Wonderful, follow me,” Dennis said as he turned and led them down the hall to their designated room.
After they finished the intake and established what Jack was in for (how long he’d been a BKA, his previous history with care, what they were looking for now), Dennis had Jack remove his prosthesis and lay down on the exam table.
“Okay Jack, you mentioned having some chronic pain in your right hip as well as in the muscles throughout your residual limb,” Dennis spoke, “So I’m going to start with manual soft tissue mobilization for your quads and hamstrings and then move on to examining your hip. Does that sound okay?”
Jack was staring straight up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact at all costs, when he replied, “Um yeah, yeah that sounds good.”
Robby was watching from the armchair in the corner of the exam room; he noticed the flush creeping its way up Jack’s neck and onto his cheeks. “Oh? Interesting,” Robby thought to himself with a smirk.
The moment Dennis’ hands were on Jack’s thigh Jack felt his breath hitch and his chest tighten. He couldn’t figure out what was going on, this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary from the PT he’d been to before. They always did manual massage first, it was always around his legs, why was he panicking now?
He turned his head to see Robby and found himself making direct eye contact with a knowing smirk painted across his husband’s face. He raised an eyebrow at Robby, his way of asking, “What the hell are you looking at?”
Robby just jerked his head at the physical therapist, at Dennis, and shrugged his shoulders. Then, he pulled out his phone and put on his reading glasses and took his eyes off Jack.
“Jack, could you try loosening your body a bit? I can feel you tensing a bit. I need you to let go and trust me, okay?” Dennis cut through the mess of thoughts running through Jack’s head. With his soothing and gentle tone, his reassurances. Fuck, Jack was so done for.
“Oh, sorry, yeah, um, I’ll try, for you,” Jack rushed out, face warm and heart beating quickly. He heard Robby stifle a laugh at his fumbled response.
“That’s all I ever ask,” Dennis smiled as he went back to work.
Robby was having a field day watching the blush deepen on Jack’s cheeks.
--
Jack and Robby were back in the car, headed home, when Robby spoke up, “So? We gonna be going back there or what?”
“Yeah, actually liked this one, I think,” Jack replied.
“Yeah? I could tell,” Robby chuckled. “I’ll make sure you get set up with Dr. Whitaker for all your appointments,” Robby said with a wink. A goddamn wink.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Mike?” Jack asked defensively, turning to face Robby. “What do you mean you ‘could tell?’”
“You were blushing like a teenager, brother,” Robby was smiling as he spoke. “Haven’t seen you that flustered over a pretty boy in years.”
“I was not flustered,” Jack said, crossing his arms across his chest and slumping back in his seat.
“Jack, sweetheart, dear husband of mine, you had a flush running up your chest and neck like nobody’s business,” Robby replied, laying on the slight condescension he always used when he was poking fun at Jack. “I’m not offended, he did look cute, but there’s no use denying it.”
“I cannot stand you, Michael,” Jack huffed.
“Wow, now you’re Michael-ing me all because you won’t admit you think the physical therapist is a cute piece of ass?”
“He is not-” Jack started.
Robby cut him off, “Don’t say he’s not cute, we both know that’s a lie, brother.”
“So what if he’s cute?” Jack said, still annoyed.
“Look, if the physical therapist being cute is what keeps you going to your appointments, who am I to complain?” Robby said, serious this time. “Plus, I like watching you squirm.”
