May the Best Man Win
Resident!Michael Robinavitch x Resident!Fem!Reader x Resident!Jack Abbot (NOT A THROUPLE)
Word count: 6k Masterlist Request by @spider-starry
Summary: you moved in with Robby and Jack right at the start of your residencies, the three of you became family almost immediately. What happens when they both decide they’re in love with you?
AN: Robby is OOC, but they are YOUNG, and I’d like to think he’s not too fucked in the head yet.
When you accepted the pediatric residency at PTMC, you thought the hardest part would be the hours, but you quickly learned that you were wrong. The hardest part was finding somewhere to live on a resident's salary that wasn’t the back seat of your car or your distant cousin's couch.
Every apartment within thirty minutes of the hospital was either impossibly expensive or looked like it was one step away from being condemned. After nearly a month of searching, you were about ready to accept that most of your paycheck would disappear into rent when a listing caught your eye. And thank god it did because your back could not handle standing for over eight hours a day and then sleeping on a shitty futon for another night.
In the break room, a flyer caught your attention. In scrappy handwriting it read: Three-bedroom house. Two current residents (males). Walking distance to PTMC. Rent split evenly.
You expected chaos, just based on the chicken scratch you had to squint to read. What you found was something much calmer.
After one simple phone call, the man on the phone, Jack, thought you would be a great fit.
“You must be the new roommate,” the deep voice made you jump.
The man standing in the doorway had dark hair that looked like he'd run his hands through it a hundred times already that day. He wore scrub pants and a faded Pitt sweatshirt, his coffee was balanced precariously in one hand.
“I’m Michael, but everyone calls me Robby,” he extended his free hand, which you took.
He stepped aside immediately, “come in before Abbot changes his mind.”
You slid by him with the duffle bag slung over your shoulder, holding a box that could slip from your hold at any moment, giving him a shy smile.
As if summoned by his name, another man rounded the corner from the kitchen. He was a bit shorter, and already more reserved than the taller man you were first met with. His curls were auburn, hinting to the fact that he once had bright red hair. He was cute. You had recognized them both from the ED, they were emergency residents, also known as adrenaline junky psychos in the medical world.
He looked from Robby to you before offering a small smile, “so, you actually exist.”
You laughed, earning a smile from him.
“I’m Jack Abbot,” he said sweetly.
He took the moving box from your hands before you could protest, “I'll show you to your room.” He nodded down the hall.
That was your introduction, it seemed simple at the time, like nothing really that important.
You had absolutely no idea you had just met the two men who would quietly fall in love with you over the next few years.
You had waited a full month to tell your mother that you had moved in with two men. You could hear her nearly faint dramatically when she finally called you and confronted you after her cousin’s step son ratted that you were no longer staying on the futon.
She had always had a way with the dramatics, and your father always had a way of ignoring them.
“Mom, they’re both doctors at the hospital I work at, it’s fine.” You said firmly.
She nearly sobbed, bringing your father into the conversation, which you knew he could care less about, “honey, we are across the country, how are we supposed to help if something goes wrong? You’re living in a big, scary city, and now you’re living with men?”
You sighed.
“Phil, anything to add?” You could hear her head turn towards him away from the phone.
He cleared his throat, “she’s a smart girl.”
And luckily, that was the end of it. And just like that, your mother’s blessing of your living arrangements was granted.
Living together became surprisingly easy, the house rules became abundantly clear and quietly agreed upon.
1. Don't wake whoever just finished their shift.
2. If you make coffee, make enough for everyone.
3. If someone falls asleep on the couch, that is their bed for the time being, do not disturb.
4. Whoever finishes the ice cream has to buy more and no, you cannot put it away with one bite left.
You slipped into the rhythm naturally and picked up on each other's habits. You moved in complete tandem with one another, three doctors and three best friends.
You learned Robby hummed whenever he cooked. And you also learned he was horrible at cooking.
Jack always read before bed, no matter how exhausted he was, and he always let you debrief after a long day, even if it impedes on said reading time.
You all maintained open door policies, there was very rarely knocking, which you had to learn to get used to.
Robby left cabinet doors open. Jack closed them behind him without comment like an easy going dad.
You discovered Robby couldn't pass a dog without trying to pet it.
Jack always remembered birthdays and anniversaries, even when they weren’t his own. And he didn’t keep a calendar, he just knew.
By the end of your first year, the house felt less like roommates and more like family. Which was exactly where the lines started to blur and the problems started to bloom.
It happened after one particularly brutal trauma shift.
You had fallen asleep almost immediately after getting home, still wearing your PTMC crewneck and scrub bottoms. You had spent nearly the entire shift in the emergency department trying to save the children injured in a school bus accident. And days like that always weighed on your heavily and put you to sleep.
Jack and Robby sat on the back porch long after midnight, nursing beers neither of them really wanted. The night was quiet, the dim yellow light was buzzing and the crickets were chirping.
Finally Robby sighed, breaking the silence, “I think I'm screwed.”
Jack looked up from where he was peeling his beer label, “you finally realized I know you’ve been using my coffee beans?”
Robby shook his head, “no.”
A longer pause and then, “I like her.”
Jack didn't have to ask who he meant, but asked for clarification anyway. “You mean…”
“Our roommate,” Robby said, finishing his sentence.
Jack stared out into the yard. Robby frowned at the lack of response from his best friend.
“I like her too,” Jack said in one breath.
Neither of them spoke for several seconds. Robby rubbed the back of his neck, “well, I don't want this to ruin us.”
Jack nodded once, “it won't. We won’t let it.”
“So,” Robby held out his hand, “no games.”
Jack reached out and took his best friend's hand, the agreement they were making didn’t need to be spoken, but he continued anyways, “no making her uncomfortable.”
“If she picks you, I'll deal with it,” Robby added.
“If she picks you,” Jack replied quietly, “I'll deal with it.”
Robby smiled, “may the best man win.”
Jack looked at their hands for a long moment before firmly shaking it, “best man wins.”
You had absolutely no idea this conversation had happened as you slept off your horrible shift.
What you did notice was that both men suddenly seemed… invested.
Robby started asking if you wanted to grab dinner after shifts. This wasn’t that out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t usually spoken. There was suddenly a gesture involved, and it would be just the two of you. Whether it was him picking up your favorite tacos or simply a bunch of snacks in the break room, you felt this odd energy shift from him. The flirting felt natural. In a way you watch on screen. He was so good at it. So good at flirting you wanted to hate him for how easily he made you blush.
He made you laugh until your stomach hurt. Being around Robby felt like standing in sunlight. When he was in a good mood and he had his attention focused, he had this way of making people feel amazing. And you were falling victim to his spells.
You noticed the girls stopped coming around. The random flings, nurses, new residents. It was never serious, you knew that because you and Jack never saw the same girl once. But now it stopped altogether.
At the same time you felt the shift with Robby, you felt it with Jack as well.
But Jack wasn't like that. He wasn't loud enough to fill a room and you liked that about him. There were never girls around for hookups, he took them on dates and rarely brought them home. There never seemed to be competition for his attention because it was always on you, and it wasn’t mood dependent.
One afternoon, you mentioned your mug had chipped. You forgot the conversation within minutes. Simply tossing it into the garbage can with a frown before reaching to grab the one behind it. You didn’t even process he was in the room with you.
Three weeks later, after another exhausting overnight, you wandered into the kitchen.
Your mug sat beside the coffee pot.
Perfectly repaired, the little chip had been filled with some sort of clay. The color was off, but it was perfectly smooth.
You frowned, reaching for it, “I thought this was broken.”
Jack looked up from his book and shrugged, “it was.”
You furrowed your brow and looked at him, when you met his eyes he knew you were curious.
“I fixed it,” he said softly, “it was your favorite.”
“You fixed it?” You asked, still processing why he would do it.
He shrugged, “didn’t think you’d be able to find a replacement mug, it’s rather specific.”
You turned the mug over in your hands, he was right. There was a faded picture of you and your younger sibling in Disney World when you were little on it.
“You knew this was my favorite?” You asked again.
He looked confused, “you only ever use that one.”
As though that explained everything. Before he could say another word you crossed the kitchen with the mug in your hands and kissed him on the cheek, “thank you, Jack.”
You turned back to the coffee maker, biting back your smile. He was thankful for the book in his hands, he raised it to cover the blush that now consumed his freckled face.
Months passed.
Robby bought you concert tickets because you'd mentioned an artist you loved was coming to Pittsburgh and you were on shift when the tickets were going on sale.
Jack found you on the pediatrics floor during busy shifts and slipped you lunch and water.
Robby noticed when you smiled. But Jack noticed when you forced one.
When you got food poisoning after eating cafeteria food you absolutely should not have trusted, Robby showed up with drinks, crackers, and enough bad jokes to keep you laughing between trips to the bathroom.
Jack arrived an hour later.
When you tried to pull your scrubs on and down enough pepto to kill a small animal, he simply took the bottle from your hands and helped you slip into your pajamas. He'd already called your attending, gotten your shift covered, picked up anti-nausea medication from the pharmacy, and left detailed instructions on the counter reminding you when to take it before he left.
Neither man knew the other had done those things, and you were starting to get concerned. Are you dying and they’re the only two that know? Did one of them do something really bad and and they were both trying to distract you from it?
One night you were perched on the couch. Jack sat beside you as he flipped through your DVD collection, and Robby handed you a perfectly chilled glass of wine before sitting on the other side of you.
You looked between the two of them. “Are you guys up to something?”
They answered in unison, “no.”
You nodded slowly, “okay…” And before you could say something else, the debate began about which movie you would all watch that night.
There were moments that made you wonder.
Like when the three of you were leaving the hospital after a thirty-hour stretch. You were walking between them and the light headedness was starting to drag down to your limbs, making everything feel fuzzy.
Both men reached for you before you even noticed it.
“You okay?” Robby asked immediately.
“Just a long day on my feet, as you both know, nothing new,” you said flatly.
Jack frowned, “you didn’t eat at all, did you?”
You shrugged, not really caring for the third degree.
“You haven't eaten since six this morning,” Jack added.
You looked at him with a raised brow, “how do you know that?”
“You gave me half your granola bar during rounds,” he said simply.
“You remembered what time that was?” You asked, exhausted.
Robby smiled to himself because he didn't miss the way you looked at Jack, and for the first time since this whole thing started, he felt like he might be losing.
Jack was too worried about you to notice the slightly infatuated gaze your were too tired to hide. He was already asking whether you wanted soup or something more substantial once you got home.
And Robby, despite himself, thought: Damn. He's good.
The strange behavior you had been observing only escalated.
If Robby cooked dinner, Jack somehow ended up making an elaborate dessert you had pointed out to him in a magazine a few weeks ago.
If Jack volunteered to drive the three of you to work, Robby suddenly remembered his “truck has been sitting around too long” and insisted on taking his truck with you riding shotgun.
When you mentioned wanting to try the new coffee shop near the hospital, they both somehow appeared outside pediatrics that same day.
“I was already going,” Robby said with a smirk.
“Yeah, well so was I,” Jack said with a glare.
Neither of them sounded convincing to you though.
If Robby brought you a coffee during a long shift, Jack somehow wandered by twenty minutes later with your favorite granola bar because, he always needed to make sure you ate.
If Jack helped you carry charts upstairs, as if you weren’t capable of doing it on your own, Robby would appear out of nowhere offering to take over halfway there, saying something like, “Abbot, Dr. James needs to see you.”
And Jack would reply through gritted teeth, “we don’t even know a Dr. James.”
But it was too late, Robby had already swiped your charts, and your attention with them.
If one of them made you laugh, the other seemed determined to make you laugh harder. It wasn't hostile, at least not towards you.
They tried very hard not to outdo each other too obviously, which was having the exact opposite effect.
Which somehow made it even stranger.
One Saturday afternoon, all three of you ended up grocery shopping together. Typically this is something you opted to do by yourself, it was easier without their nonsense when they were being normal.
“I'll grab the cart,” Jack offered, stepping in front of you as you looked down at your list.
“I already have one,” Robby replied, reaching for the same cart.
“You literally just touched it,” Jack fought back.
“So did you,” Robby teased, like a child.
You blinked at them, “are you two seriously fighting over a shopping cart?”
“We're not fighting,” they answered at the exact same time.
You sighed dramatically, “I’ve heard more convincing arguments from the toddlers I see at work.”
You put your hand on your hip, “you guys have been doing this for weeks.”
Neither of them said anything.
You looked between them, “you compete over literally everything now.”
“No, we don't,” Robby said quickly and unconvincingly.
Jack looked at him, annoyed.
“You just proved my point,” you deadpanned.
Robby rubbed the back of his neck and Jack suddenly became very interested in comparing two different brands of pasta.
You folded your arms, “okay. Seriously.”
They both looked at you.
“What is going on?” You asked, exhausted by their behavior.
“Nothing,” Jack answered, trying to act as casually as possible.
“Absolutely nothing,” Robby added.
“You've both been acting weird. And it’s starting to drive me crazy,” you stated simply.
“We haven't been acting weird,” Robby added, completely failing at his lying.
“You have,” you said with a nod.
“We’ve been… totally… nooormal,” Robby said, doubling down.
You stared at them for a long beat before throwing your hands into the air, “you are both being unbelievably annoying.”
Robby laughed at your bluntness and Jack bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile.
“I'm being so serious,” you continued. “If there's some weird doctor competition happening that I don't know about, I'd really love to be let in on it.”
The two men exchanged a glance so brief you almost missed it.
“Nothing's going on,” Jack repeated quietly.
“You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?” you asked.
Both of them answered without hesitation, “of course.”
You looked between them one last time before shaking your head, “fine. I feel like I’m scolding my children and I’m over it.”
You grabbed the pasta out of Jack’s left hand and tossed it into the cart.
“But whatever this is... knock it off,” you spared them one last look before turning around and continuing with your list.
Robby leaned toward Jack and whispered, “I think she noticed.”
Jack sighed, “ya think?”
After the events at the grocery store, Robby realized competing wasn’t going to do it, but he needed to push further and test the waters. What better way to do that than a kiss?
He could feel the flirtation coming from you, and he could feel the chemistry when you would reach for his arm in a crowded bar, or smile up at him when he brought you a new drink.
The first kiss with Robby happened because neither of you were thinking.
You'd just gotten home after one of the worst shifts of the year.
A pediatric code and a family that wouldn't stop crying, and rightfully so. It was the kind of situation that was impossible not to take home.
You were standing in the kitchen in one of Robby's old Pitt hoodies that you had stolen long ago. You were absently stirring boxed macaroni while he leaned against the counter telling increasingly ridiculous stories from college in an obvious attempt to make you smile.
By the second story, it had worked. Your were laughing so hard you could feel the cramps in your sides.
“There she is,” he said, grinning, “I've been trying to get that laugh back for an hour.”
“I hate you,” you said softly, although the butterflies in your stomach said otherwise.
“No, you don't,” he said as he inched closer to you.
“No,” you smiled despite yourself, “I really don't.”
The room grew quiet. His eyes dropped briefly to your lips before coming back to yours.
“If I do something stupid,” he murmured, “you can tell me to stop.”
You should have, but you could feel his breath on your skin and the warmth emanating from his chest because of how close he was. Your head was almost completely tilted back because of how tall he was.
You should have told him to stop. Instead you whispered, “okay.”
He closed the distance carefully, slowly enough that you could have moved away, but no part of you wanted to do that.
His lips were warm and rough, exactly how you’d imagined them. It lasted only a few seconds and when he pulled back, neither of you spoke.
Then Robby laughed nervously, “I probably just ruined your pasta.”
That made you laugh again, “no," you said quietly, “it isn’t ruined.”
You thought about it constantly afterward, not because you regretted it, but because you didn't know what it meant.
Nothing between you changed.
Robby never brought it up and neither did you. He treated you exactly the same.
Which somehow made you think about it even more. Was it a moment of weakness? Were the feelings real, or have you just not been kissed in a while? Was he who you wanted to be kissing?
Three months later is when everything inside you shifted and somehow became even more confusing.
It was raining so hard the streets flooded. The thunder roared and lightning lit up the sky , the rain was coming down in sheets. You were soaked just from walking out of the building.
Jack picked you up from the hospital after you had called him saying you couldn’t walk home.
Neither of you talked much on the drive home. You were too exhausted and it wasn’t unusual for you two to sit in silence with one another.
You were both finally inside the house when the lights went out.
“Perfect,” you muttered.
Jack found a flashlight almost immediately as you began digging in closets for half used candles and batteries. You turned back to find Jack twisting on a lantern in the living room while testing the falshlights he has managed to have on hand.
The storm rattled the windows, enough to make you jump.
“I used to hate storms,” you admitted quietly.
“You did?” He asked curiously.
You nodded, “when I was younger.”
“My brother used to sit with me until they passed,” you sighed at the thought of him, “ under the blankets.”
Jack looked at you, “I didn't know that.”
You shrugged, “it’s not super relevant to most situations.”
He smiled at you softly and you gazed up at him in the soft light of the lantern. You didn’t have to crane your neck hard to meet his soft hazel eyes. You were standing close to him, a lot closer than you had realized. You could see the light freckles that littered over his nose, and you suddenly wondered if they had always been like that or if they faded with age. His auburn curls were still damp on his forehead. And you were suddenly aware of how you must look like a wet dog standing before this broad god-like man.
He was standing there holding the flashlight between you, his face lit softly from the lantern light below.
“You always remember everything,” you said quietly, breaking the silence.
He frowned slightly, “you say that like it's a bad thing.”
You shook your head, “it isn’t.”
He smiled and something inside you shifted. You felt your heart beat increase just from his eyes holding your gaze for so long.
Before you could stop yourself you reached up and closed the space between you. You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
He froze because he clearly hadn't expected you to initiate it. There was a thud at your feet where the flashlight hit the floor, and his hands moved to rest gently on your waist.
When you pulled away your eyes immediately widened in disbelief at what you just did. A nervous laugh bubbled out of you.
Before you could say anything, he leaned in and kissed you again. Just as soft, but like he wanted to memorize the feeling and hadn’t focused enough the first time.
As the kiss got deeper, he pulled away. Both of your chests moved as you caught your breath.
”I want to do this the right way,” he whispered, “if you want this to be anything.”
You nodded, “okay,” you said breathlessly.
He slowly moved his hands from your waist and bent down to pick up the flashlight. You grabbed the snacks from the kitchen and made your way back to the couch, not bringing it up again.
The guilt crashed over you the next morning. You tried so hard to ignore it, to push it down and move on from it.
You thought of every time you all drove to work together.
Every movie night.
Every grocery trip.
Every shared laugh.
You felt like you were carrying a secret that made you a terrible friend. And you hated the idea of effecting the dynamic you all had, and you especially hated the idea of potentially breaking up two long term friends.
You made it a full three weeks before you broke. The guilt was hanging over you the entire time like a cloud.
Robby was first. Not because it meant something that he was, but because he found you sitting on the back porch after midnight.
“You okay?” He asked as he approached you.
You shook your head and wiped your cheeks, “no.”
He sat beside you but neither of you spoke for several minutes.
Finally you blurted, “Jack and I kissed.”
You continued on, word vomiting, “it happened after that huge storm a few weeks ago. It wasn’t planned or anything like that. I wasn’t trying to hurt you or be greedy— I just—”
You cut yourself off with a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, “I kissed you and then I kissed him and I don't know what that says about me, and if you're angry you have every right to be because I feel awful and—”
“Breathe,” he said, cutting you off from your monologue.
You blinked up at him with your wet eyes. He didn’t tell you that the sight in front of him took his breath away. That somehow you looked even more beautiful after crying.
But instead of giving you the compliment, he laughed, “I was wondering how long it'd take.”
You furrowed your brows in complete confusion.
He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy, “I kind of expected something like this to happen.”
”What are you talking about?” You asked, growing more confused by the second.
Another voice answered from inside the house, “because we told each other this might happen.”
You turned, or more like whipped your head around to find Jack standing in the doorway.
Apparently he'd come looking for both of you.
You stared between them. “I think,” you said slowly, “one of you should start making sense.”
Fifteen minutes later all three of you were sitting around the kitchen table. The two men across from you kept making eyes at one another the way parents did before they told their child they were getting a divorce.
Finally Robby sighed, “we should've told you sooner.”
Jack nodded in agreement.
“Told me what?” You asked, narrowing your eyes.
Robby looked at Jack again before speaking, “we’ve both… kind of been in love with you for the past year.”
Your mouth fell open, “I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes moved to Jack, “both of you?”
He nodded once, “yeah.”
You stared for a moment, like your brain was trying to process the information live. And suddenly, a laugh bubbled out of you.
The situation wasn’t exactly funny, but you continued to laugh. You shook your head, “no.”
Robby smiled sadly, “afraid you just have that effect.”
You pointed between them, “we’re best friends.”
They nodded patiently, allowing you to process it as slowly as you needed.
You stood abruptly, “you’re my best friends,” your voice cracked as your composure slipped.
“I live with you, I trust you, we tell each other everything,” you said the last word like it hurt.
Your eyes flicked between them, they both stared at you.
“I thought,” you pressed both hands against your forehead, “I thought I was imagining things. I felt like I was going crazy, like maybe it was just the exhaustion or something… but it was real,” your breathing became uneven, “and I kissed both of you."
Neither of them interrupted your rant or took their eyes off of you.
“I kissed both of my best friends,” you laughed quietly. “What is wrong with me?”
Jack shook his head, “nothing.”
You looked at him.
“We're the ones who made the agreement,” Robby said, as he nervously fiddled with his fingers.
You blinked, “agreement?”
Robby winced before clearing his throat, “'best man wins.’”
You stared, “I’m sorry. Am I some sort of bet?”
Both men vigorously shook their heads to avoid a misunderstanding.
“The night we realized we both had feelings for you,” Jack started cautiously, “we promised we wouldn't interfere with each other. You'd choose if—and only if—you wanted to.”
You sank back into your chair and ran your hand over your face. The kitchen felt too small for the three of you to be having this conversation.
“I just need to… think,” you pushed your chair back before heading down the hall to your room, slamming the door on them and the conversation.
For the next week, you avoided both of them as much as living and working together allowed.
You weren’t mad then, but you couldn’t stop thinking back on the last year. You replayed every moment.
You asked yourself the same question over and over: If neither of them had feelings… which kiss would I still be thinking about?
At first you hated the answer and you tried to deny it. The denial came from a place of not being able to hurt either of them.
Robby's kiss made you smile, it was sweet and comforting after a bad day.
But Jack’s… You could still remember the way he'd looked at you afterward. You kissed him first, which had to mean something. And when he pulled away, all you wanted was to pull him back in.
The actual realization hit you in the middle of a trauma you had been called down to the ED for.
You had placed the perfect chest tube, it was flawless and difficult because of how small the child was. Jack’s hand brushed the small of your back as he passed you, “that’s my girl.” He said it without even realizing, it was quiet and only you heard. It was so mindless but he meant it. And god you wanted to really be his girl.
Your heart flipped in your chest and you audibly gasped, “oh,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. You squeezed your eyes shut.
Dana glanced over, “what’s wrong with you?”
You blinked at nothing, “I’m totally fucked.”
She snorted before leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Because for the first time since this impossible mess had begun, you had felt at peace with the decision.
The door was there, ready to be opened. Even if you hadn't found the courage to knock on it yet.
Robby was sitting on the back porch when you found him that night. The place that had become familiar and therapeutic for all three of you.
You'd spent the better part of three days working up the courage for this conversation, only to realize there wasn't a version of it that didn't hurt someone.
The screen door creaked softly behind you. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled, “you’re home.”
Your smile didn't quite reach your eyes, “you busy?”
He looked at the untouched beer in his hand, “for you? Never.”
You sat beside him. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.
The late summer air was warm, crickets filling the silence while neither of you knew how to begin.
Finally, Robby exhaled, “you figured it out.”
You turned to look at him, you exhaled, “was it that obvious?”
He chuckled quietly, “to me, yeah.”
Your throat tightened, “I'm sorry.”
“Don’t,” he shook his head.
“No Robby, I am,” you said, no words able to express how bad you felt.
“I know,” he rested his forearms on his knees, staring out into the backyard, “I’ve actually known for a while. Longer than you if I had to guess.”
“Really?” You asked quietly.
He nodded, “I started noticing the way you looked at him. And I thought maybe I still had a chance, maybe you could look at me like that. But you never did.”
You frowned, “I don't look at him differently.”
“You do,” he smiled sadly, “you don't even realize you're doing it.”
You opened your mouth to argue before closing it again.
“When he walks into a room,” Robby continued, “you look up before he says anything. When he says your name you immediately blush. You always save him a seat without thinking. If something good happens, he's the first person you look for.”
He laughed softly to himself, “and whenever you're overwhelmed,” he finally glanced at you, “you're already halfway to finding Jack before you've decided you need help.”
A tear slipped down your cheek, “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know,” he reached over and squeezed your knee.
“I love you,” you said quietly, “just not like that.”
He smiled warmly, “I know that too.”
The tears came faster now, but you tried to hide them, “I'm sorry.”
He looked down at his hands for a moment before continuing, “I'll admit I really hoped you'd pick me. And I kept the hope up, but when you just sat down, I knew.”
You smiled at him.
“But somewhere along the way, I stopped rooting against Jack,” he spoke quietly.
You blinked. “What?”
“I'd catch him doing these little things. Making sure your gas tank was full before a snowstorm and starting your car in the morning. Remembering exactly how you take your coffee or exactly what you’d order at the bar after you've had a bad shift. Covering your pager while you cried in the stairwell after losing that little boy.”
Your eyes widened, “how did you even know about that?”
“He told me he was covering your patients,” he sighed, “he never told me why, but I pieced it together.”
Silence settled between you again. Your lips trembled, but you had promised yourself you would keep the tears to a minimum.
“I really am happy for you,” he reassured, “but I'm probably going to mope for a while.”
You laughed.
“I love you too much to want you anywhere but where your happiest,” his voice cracked at the last few words.
Without thinking, you leaned over and wrapped your arms around him.He hugged you back just as tightly.
When you finally pulled apart, he wiped at his own eyes and pointed toward the house, “time to go.”
You looked at him and your heart skipped at the thought of what comes next.
“He’s upstairs,” he added softly.
Jack was in his room with the door half open.
He looked up from the medical journal in his lap when he heard your footsteps.
His face immediately changed into a concerned expression when he saw your red eyes, “you okay?”
You didn't answer. Instead, you crossed the room in determined strides. Your cheeks were still damp from the tears you had shed just moments before with Robby.
He stood instinctively, “You—”
You grabbed the front of his T-shirt with both hands and pulled him into a kiss before he could finish his sentence.
You kissed him harder than you intended to, almost throwing you both off balance, but he stumbled, placing both hands on your waist instinctively and keeping balance.
When you finally pulled back, Jack was staring at you as though he'd forgotten how to speak. You smiled through happy tears.
“I uh, I just talked to Robby,” you said softly. You were still close to him, hands still gripping his tshirt.
His expression immediately fell.
“And he knows,” you finished.
Jack looked toward the floor, “I never wanted to hurt him.”
“He knows that,” you said barely above a whisper.
You cupped his face, making him look back at you, “I choose you, Jack.”
His eyes searched yours.
You swallowed, “you don't have to say anything right now.”
He opened his mouth, but you pressed a finger to his lips, “it’s still my turn.”
You felt the curve of his lips as he smiled against your finger.
“I am choosing the man who remembers every little thing I tell him. And every little thing he observes. The man who somehow always knows when I need something before I do. The man who never once tried to convince me to love him. The man who just... loved me.”
Jack's composure cracked, “you've had me,” he said quietly, “since the day in the kitchen when you kissed my cheek.”
You laughed, “that long, huh?”
“I knew I was in trouble the moment you walked through that door with way too much stuff for your tiny room,” he said, still grinning ear to ear.
You rested your forehead against his, “I think I was too. Just took me a little longer to catch up”
He leaned back down and when he kissed you, there wasn't a single ounce of hesitation left.
And the best man won.
Tags (all): @ilocuras24 @nyxmoretti @kmc1989 @destinyg237
Tags (the Pitt): @sexychickenmagnet @thehockeynerd30 @woderfulkawaii @renegadebirch
