#robby pov

[jackabbotsdog]

Pet store adoption- (Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

(All parts)

When Robby peers into the bedroom, the sight nearly melts his fucking heart. 

Jack is properly out like a light, head tilted back- not to the side- so his breath catches in soft little snores. The huffs of air catching Dennis' fur on his ears and making it flutter a little. 

Dennis isn't asleep though, he's curled up around Jack but propped up on one elbow so he can peer at his sleeping face. Not that Robby blames him, he too has been enchanted one too many times by the softness that settles on the features of a sleeping Jack. 

He leans against the doorframe and watches as Dennis' ears perk up at a particularly loud snore, tilting his head to the side and then back as his ears flop. He grins into his hand as he ties not to laugh, letting it go on for a while before Dennis lift his hand and looks like he's gonna touch Jack's face. 

"Den," he whispers, low enough that Jack won't wake, and the boy freezes. 

Slowly, he turns to Robby with a sheepish grin. 

Robby nods his head up and back, and Dennis gently extricates himself from Jack, prying his sleeping hand away from his tail and padding over to Robby with a grin. 

He puts a hand on Dennis' shoulder and leads him safely down the hallway before he asks, "what were you doing, hmm?" 

Dennis yawns. "I woke up so was just watching him. He has freckles. I just wanted to touch one. Sorry." 

"It's okay Den. Maybe we let him sleep a bit now though yeah? Wanna come hang out with me downstairs?" 

"Yeah!" 

"Good boy, come on then puppy." 

Dennis flushes a wonderful pink and follows him without question downstairs. But when they get into the kitchen he starts to squirm, shifting on his little brand new socked feet. 

"What's up pup?" 

Dennis bites his lip, "do you wanna try it?" 

"Try what?" 

"The like, no-talking puppy stuff." 

See, Michael knows that Jack thinks his desire to adopt a hybrid comes from the dog he nearly adopted as a child before his bubbe found it a new home with people who were much more equip to care for it. It had broken his little heart. He'd cried about it for days. He'd told Jack this story what- years ago- when they were both still fresh faced and laughing over beers, pretending not to be wildly attracted to each other. Jack's clearly remembered it, and when he pitched Robby the idea of adopting a hybrid together he'd seen the story reflected back at him in Jack's eyes. 

Michael is happy to let him believe it. 

Really though its all about devotion and control. 

He loves Jack, more than anything, he'd be quite happy with Jack for the rest of their lives but … 

It's just that he feels like his life is slipping by faster and faster, and he sees people die every single day, people with hopes and dreams and loves and untouched potential. People who probably never got to experience things in their lives that they wanted to try. Were too ashamed to try. Didn't have time to try before- 

See, Michael has been thinking a lot about mortality since Adamson, in a way he knows scares Jack. 

It's just that he doesn't want to die having never… it sounds stupid, even when he says it to himself. Having never fulfilled his fantasy of fucking a sweet omega hybrid? Fuck off Robinavitch. This is why, despite all Jack does to encourage him, he can't talk to Jack about this. Why he kept it not so successfully hidden from him for so long. 

Worse, too, Michael thinks, because it's not even entirely sexual. 

Devotion. Jack won't let him dote on him or baby him or coo and praise him. He'll try to an extent but that just isn't him, and Michael doesn't want to show his love to Jack that way. Not when he has a million better ways to show it that Jack is on board with. And Jack is devoted to him, too, but on a deeper level and sometimes… sometimes Michael lays in bed at night and thinks about what it would be like to have that in its base form. 

The way a dog loves it's master. The way a hybrid might love him. The raw simplicity of it. 

Devotion and- 

This is why he can't just get a dog. Because it's also about control. And the control is sexual. 

Michael is not unaware of his desire to take charge and lead. Would have been a piss poor career choice to go for the big job if he didn't. He, too, knows this desire has a tendency to leak like a dripping faucet into other aspects of his life. 

In a way that sometimes makes him feel a little sick to his stomach, the way he wants to have a someone eat from the palm of his hand and squirm on his lap and tease them until they blink into subspace, all whiney and perfect and waiting with baited breath for his command. Jack bottoms, gets all bratty and desperate, but he never- he never just-

Michael loves the sex they have, the push and pull and the equality of it all. He'd be quite happy with Jack for the rest of his life. He would. 

But as always Jack sees him, even when he doesn't want to be seen. 

"Oh- " Robby stammers, cock twitching. "I think we should probably wait for Jack before we do anything um-" 

Dennis flushes beet red and squirms. "Not that! Unless that's- I just meant- I guess I thought when it's gonna just be us that I would act like your puppy all the time even when were not doing sex stuff. Or?" 

"I mean-" Robby rubs the back of his neck. "That is what I was thinking yeah." 

Dennis nods, "Cool, yeah." 

"Do you want to try it?" 

He narrows his eyes as the kid avoids looking at him.

"I just…" 

"You can tell me puppy, it's okay." 

"I just don't want to mess up? Like maybe we do a trial run where- where I can still ask questions and you can tell me if you want something different. I want to be good." 

Robby frowns, "puppy you are go-" 

"I'm not though. I know I'm not. I was- sometimes I wish I was one of the hybrids who couldn't talk and then I wouldn't be so much trouble and everything would be simpler. I got in trouble a lot growing up Robby, I know I'm not good." 

As he speaks, Dennis' ears slowly fold back against his head, and Robby's heart breaks for him. Maybe this is what Jack meant when he said he wanted a rescue. Maybe he knew that Robby's bleeding heart would have no defence against this. 

"Okay pup, come on, lets go sit on the couch and have a little chat." 

Dennis' ears flatten fully, and he follows Robby to the couch like he's walking to his own grave. 

He sits the pup over his lap so his lets stretch across the cushions and runs a soothing hand through his hair and ears until the kid calms down a little. 

"Dens, listen to me okay? This is all super fun and exciting right? But it's also new for all of us. Theres going to be stuff we don't get right, or we try and don't like, and all three of us can change our minds at any time yeah? That doesn't make us bad. Me and Jack, well we'd prefer if you didn't throw our things about, break our plates and glasses, chew on our furniture or pee on our clothes-" 

Dennis takes the bait. "I would never do that." 

"I know Dens, because you're such a good boy right?" He ruffles Dennis' hair. "Heres what I'm thinking, which mind you puppy, might change when we start doing this because I've never lived with a hybrid before either- what I'm thinking is that it would be really nice to come home to you baby, to give you a little cuddle and maybe play a little, actually play, make some dinner and we both eat- maybe I can feed you little bits and you can sit by me and take it from my fingers, cuddle up with me while we watch TV or I do admin work on my laptop, if you need anything you can paw at me or whine or bark and maybe it could be a fun little game for us both to figure out what you need? I want to give you what you need Dens. We can talk about the sexual stuff later with Jack but… none of that means you can't speak if you want to, or need to. I'm not- this isn't- I don't want that. I want you to want to be like that with me, it won't work if you don't and that's okay too. Is that something you… want?" 

Dennis chews on his bottom lip. "Yeah, I really… I really want to try that. That sounds like… really good to me Robby." 

"Yeah puppy?" 

"Yeah. I was- I meant what I said before, I really like just being more like a proper hybrid? It's nice not to think simple sometimes." 

Like a dumb little pup. He thinks, but doesn't say yet. 

"Still wanna try it out? A little hybrid-" He waggles his eyebrows and Dennis puffs out a laugh, "-approach? How about until Jack wakes up, we give it a go and if you have any questions just speak up pup, and if either of us don't like anything we just say. A little trial run?" 

"Could we-" Dennis stops again, and Robby waits patiently until he finds his words. "-maybe we could like. You've just adopted me right? We could play like you're- like I am one of the hybrids without speech capacity? For a little bit." 

~

"Now puppy-"

Dennis is knelt in his kitchen, sat back on his heels and blinking up at Robby with the most adoring face he's ever seen, ears fully pricked up and waiting. 

"- you've been a very good boy so far. I know you're desperate to explore, but if you keep being such a good boy for me I promise I'll give you a treat, would you like that hmm? Would you like that Dens?" 

Dennis whines, following it up with a little excited yip as his tail swishes so hard it wiggles his body, just like at the store. 

Robby feels like he's gonna fucking pass out. He feels like he's on the precipice of getting everything he's ever fucking wanted and he's not sure what he's done to deserve it. Like on his birthday, when his bubbe would hand him his carefully wrapped present and for a second before he unwrapped it, it could be any of the things he'd been too shy to hint at, because he wouldn't want to be trouble. 

"Good boy. Here, you can have one now for sitting so good." The wiggles increase, and Dennis opens his mouth and carefully slips out his tongue. 

His cock twitches as he places the gummy bear into Dennis' mouth, waiting until he closes and sucks at his fingers a little before pulling back. Dennis hums happily. 

"That nice?" He ruffles Dennis' ears. "Come on let me show you the living room." 

Because he hasn't got his collar on yet- Michael thought best to wait for Jack- he slows his walk and drops his hand to play with Dennis' hair as he crawls besides him. When they make it through, Dennis looks to the dog bed, back to Robby, then back the bed and lets out these puffy excited whining noises. 

"Now what's all that about pup? Hmm? So dramatic. Go on then, go try your new bed." 

Dennis yips and tumbles into it, rolling around and stretching and rubbing his face all over it. Scent is important for omega hybrids, Robby has read, especially dog-hybrids. So he comes over and plays with his boy, ruffling his ears and roughhousing him a little until he hopes both of their scents are on the fabric. Right up until Dennis gets real squirmy, rubbing his legs together and-

Ohhhh. 

Robby narrows his eyes. 

"Puppy are you getting excited?" 

Dennis whines pitifully, looking up at Robby with big pitiful eyes. 

"No puppy, we can't-" He's interrupted by a louder whine and the spreading of legs. "Dens, no. We have to wait for Jack." 

Dennis pouts, looking ridiculously human when he does, and Robby is helpless to the laugh that bubbles out of him. 

"Come sit between my legs like a good pup and you can have a treat." 

Dennis contemplates this, but ultimately gives in and nods. Lovely. 

"Okay pup stay- that's right, good boy, stay there-" he makes his way to the sofa and sits. "Okayyy- come! Come boy!" 

And like a dream Dennis does, scrambling to him and nudging apart his legs to be able to sit on the floor between them, balancing his head on Robby's knee and peering up at him while his tail hits Robby's shin with each wag. He parts his little mouth, and FUCK does Robby wish the treat he could give him is his cock. Instead, he slips in another gummybear- green this time. 

"A little treat for a good little boy. Now, see this?" He points to the couch. "You're only allowed up here when we- me or Jack- say okay puppy?" 

Dennis pauses, blinking a little as he comes to. With two fingers he taps on Robby's knee and gently says his name. When Robby gives him the obvious all clear, he asks, "is that all the time? Or just when I'm like this?" 

"Oh- oh just when you're like this. It's- we don't have to-"

"No I think its fun, I was just wonderin' is all." 

"Okay then, sure, just when you're like this. I doubt Jack will do the same when its just you to though." 

Dennis nods, and then gives a little huff of a bark, butting his head against Robby's knee. 

"Okay, because it's new you can come up puppy, come on up you get, that's it, want to cuddle on my lap? Up puppy! Oh that's a god boy here have another treat." 

Dennis hums happily around Robby's fingers, his tongue- slightly rougher than a humans- wiggles between Robby's fingers. 

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing." He coos, pressing a kiss to Dennis' forehead and letting Dennis' suck on his fingers. 

~

"Well, isn't this a lovely sight?" Jack mumbles from the doorway, his sleep soft eyes crinking when he yawns, ending it in a smile. 

"Jack!" Dennis yips, completely forgetting, it seems, his promise to be quiet and trying to wiggle out of Robby's hold. He lets him, watching with delight as he bounds over to Jack and nearly knocks him sideways with the force at which he goes in for a hug. 

Jack lets out a big old man huff. 

"Woke up to see you'd snook out on me." He mumbles as he presses a kiss into the kids curls. 

"Robby came and got me." Dennis says, snitch.

"Did he now?" He looks up at Jack, but Jack's eyes are filled to be brim with fondness. "Hope you didn't get up to too much fun without me?"" 

"Well," he drawls, watching Dennis tense up in Jack's arms. "He did get extra squirmy playing about in his little bed, but he was a good boy and waited for you." 

"Oh really? Well I think we should reward such good behaviour don't you Robby?

He laughs, "oh yeah, start that positive reinforcement early!" 

[jomiddlemarch]

Never know how much I care 

“Not on my watch,” Robby said, putting an arm around Abbot’s back, feeling how Abbot immediately let his weight rest on Robby. The effort Abbot was making to stay upright, to keep steady. His shift started in ten minutes and he was early like he usually was and it had taken Robby about five seconds to see Abbot was sick as a dog, most likely with the flu that had started going around two weeks ago.

“M’okay,” Abbot said, his voice low, rough. He’d been coughing for hours, Robby could hear that, even if the residents looked apprehensive, like Abbot might growl at them for messing up an ABG. Like Abbot would ever do that.

“You look like shit, man,” Robby said. The ER was busy around them, seething and heaving the way the ocean did far from shore and Robby tuned it all out. “I already did sign-out, I’ll take you home—”

“I’m fine, they’ll be short an attending—” 

“It’s okay. Cheryl’s here and they can call Tom if they need back-up. He’s bored, he’s been texting me about the game the whole shift,” Robby said. Abbot was still, as if he were gathering himself to refuse, to pull away and then Robby realized Abbot was trying as hard as he could not to cough.

“It’s okay,” Robby repeated. “They got this. I got you. It’s good for them to see we take time off. You’re being a role model—”

“You know the way?” Abbot asked, interrupting Robby. Leaning in closer, too warm. He had a fever, hard to say how high, definitely over 101 but he wouldn’t have taken anything for it and Robby had a bottle of ibuprofen in his backpack, so it didn’t matter if Abbot’s medicine cabinet was empty.

“I remember,” Robby said. 

They didn’t talk about That Night, which is always referred to in his inner monologue as That Night and nothing else, only a series of images and sensory memories he can’t bear to limit with words. Yeah, Robby remembered where Abbot’s apartment was, what the front door looked like and the view past the kitchenette, down the hall. He remembered a lot and it wasn’t relevant at the moment, with Abbot feeling like crap and needing to be put to bed with someone keeping an eye on him, making sure he took an antipyretic q4 and had a wrung-out washcloth laid on his forehead.

“Get Cheryl to change the schedule. He’s going to be out the next two shifts minimum,” Robby called over to Donna. He gave Abbot a little squeeze to prompt him to walk and Abbot’s halting shuffle made it crystal clear Robby was right. “C’mon, let’s go, you belong in bed.”

They made it to the couch in the living room. Robby decided to call it a win, since Abbot almost certainly slept there a decent percentage of the time, based on what he knew of Abbot and the state of the couch, which compared to the rest of the furniture in the apartment had been Abbot’s splurge purchase when he became an attending.

(Robby had gotten a really good set of speakers but at least neither of them had gone for the clichéd plasma TV. They worked in the ER, not ortho or derm, so neither one of them had a red sportscar.)

Abbot’s couch was upholstered in a non-descript neutral that even full sunlight would fail to elicit any real color from, but the material was high-end and there were no signs of any fraying or worn patches. There was a striped throw blanket tossed over the back but it wasn’t going to cover Abbot above the waist, so once Robby helped Abbot lie down, he went to the bedroom to take the quilt off the bed. It was handmade, elaborate geometric piecework by some female relative of Abbot’s Robby hadn’t dared to ask about That Night, though he’d speculated to himself and if pushed, would have put his money on it being the work of Abbot’s grandmother.

“You don’t have to stay,” Abbot said but he couldn’t manage more than a mutter, working hard to get that even. Robby rolled his eyes. They said doctors make the worst patients and if that were true (and Robby knew from experience it was), Abbot made the worst of the worst.

“I guess I don’t but I’m gonna,” Robby replied.

Who knew you could measure a fever in missing protestations? Abbot’s lack of response made Robby reconsider, Abbot was probably around 102 based on his silence.

“Let’s get some ibuprofen into you and some fluids, then I’ll start working on some soup,” Robby said.

“Fridge is empty,” Abbot said, his eyes closed, shifting in clear discomfort.

“I’ll use DoorDash,” Robby said. Abbot grimaced, an expression Robby recognized, though Abbot never actually uttered a complaint.

“Let me deal with your leg,” Robby said carefully and this made Abbot open his eyes. Robby braced for an argument or a dismissal.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Abbot said, his usual dry humor eclipsed by a hacking cough that hurt Robby to hear. Robby knelt beside the couch and rolled up the scrubs covering Abbot’s prosthesis, then made quick work of unhitching the metal leg from Abbot’s knee, setting it to one side, within Abbot’s reach.

“Better,” Abbot said and he didn’t look worse, so Robby got up and went into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. There was no time to waste getting the ibuprofen into Abbot and once that was done, Robby would get started on the soup, which meant finding a pot big enough and putting together the DoorDash order. There was no chance Abbot had one single carrot lying plaintively in the veggie drawer of his fridge and with the time he had, Robby was going to have to break down and order some chicken stock or possibly luck out with some bone broth as the base.

One rotisserie chicken (another hack, but one he felt Bubbe Esti would approve, since he could also make sure there was a little chicken salad in the fridge for Abbot), a bunch of carrots, some celery, onion, chicken stock (no bone brother available, the OUT OF STOCK flashing enough to trigger a seizure or at least a seizure warning) and an over-priced but essential bunch of dill ordered and six hundred milligrams of ibuprofen and two glasses of water swallowed, Robby’s hand hovering, then guiding Abbot’s trembling one, Abbot lay quietly on the couch and Robby was at loose ends.

He wasn’t familiar with that or anyway, he didn’t want to be, which was partly why he chose a career that had him moving and talking and always juggling one more task, and why he kept a kids basketball hoop on the back of his bedroom door and never considered getting a cat, because he didn’t need a pet that threw back in his face his inability to sit quietly and simply be. Abbot had remarked on it, That Night, but the observation had so much affection in it, Robby hadn’t taken offense. He’d actually settled down, still, drifting a little, Abbot’s hands gentle and knowing and incredibly sure. Now he watched Abbot’s chest rise and fall and tried to keep himself from fidgeting or getting up and poking around Abbot’s apartment, something between a nosy body and a spy.

He'd compromised on looking at the contents of the tall bookshelf in the living room, noticing which books looked most handled, what other objects Abbot had felt merited a display when the doorbell rang. The groceries were waiting on the mat, the delivery person already thumping their way down the hall to the elevator. Robby picked them up and brought them inside, walking the short distance to the kitchen. Abbot didn’t stir on the couch.

Twenty minutes later, a big pot was simmering on the stove, Robby had wiped down the counters and found what was evidently the one piece of Tupperware Abbot owned and had put the remaining chicken into it. It wasn’t going to be the best soup, but without homemade stock and an organic bird, that was a given. The state of Abbot’s fridge and cupboards made it clear he was unlikely to offer any complaints and also, Robby should have ordered more groceries. He leaned against the tall cupboard, which was supposed to be a pantry, even if it was mostly empty, and started a list on his phone. OJ, ginger ale, bananas, English muffins…he was mulling over peanut butter when he heard Abbot.

“You can go, leave, m’okay,” was what Robby could make out, though Abbot had said more, words Robby hadn’t been able to understand, though it hadn’t been because Abbot was coughing. He went over to the couch and crouched down, taking Abbot’s wrist in his hand almost without thinking. He was tachy and he felt even warmer than before. He was spiking through the ibuprofen, which wasn’t good.

“Not going anywhere, buddy,” Robby said, taken aback when Abbot’s arm came up, his hand catching Robby’s chest.

“You don’t wanna be here…you can go on home, better that way, you’re on tomorrow,” Abbot said and it was That Night again, the same words, the same tone, Abbot’s eyes dark, his hand holding Robby even as he told him to go. It was That Night and that meant Abbot was delirious, lost in a memory. It meant his fever was at least 104 and he needed more that Robby could give him at home.

(Home—Abbot’s home or Robby’s? How could a place he’d only been to a few times be more his home that his own house, the bed he’d slept in for the past twelve years?)

Abbot’s arm dropped, his wrist grazing Robby’s hand. It wasn’t a conscious thought, Robby just held him, watching his breathing, the lack of focus in his eyes.

“That’s it, we’re going in,” Robby said, more to himself than Abbot, given that Abbot was drifting in and out, and Robby was starting to worry about his sats.

“No, don’t—ice bath,” Abbot croaked. 

Robby shook his head, thinking about whether he needed to call an ambulance or could get Abbot back to the hospital in his car—

“Don’t need to go in. Ice bath,” Abbot said.

Robby opened his mouth, about to tell him it wasn’t up for discussion, Robby was making the call when Abbot spoke again, a little slower, a little looser.

“I’m not fucking delirious, Michael.”

For a moment, Robby felt like he was the one with the fever, delirious, his face burning, dizzy. Jack hadn’t called him Michael since That Night and he hadn’t known how much he’d wanted to hear it again. How he’d feel if, when he did. For a moment, they were silent together and then Jack shook with a rigor. If an ice bath was happening, it was happening now.

“Ten minutes. If we don’t have you in the tub, if your temp isn’t dropping, I’m calling an ambulance. I’m not fucking around. No heroic measures in your shitty bathtub,” Robby said.

“Maybe next time,” Abbot, Jack said, turning his wrist so he could hold Robby’s hand in his. So he could close his eyes and know Robby, Michael understood.