how would rabbot wake each other up on a sunday morning?
jack knows robby's the type who needs to be woken up gently. or at the very least discreetly. he's borderline nonverbal and his first interaction of the morning sets the precedent for the rest of his day. it's robinavitch 101.
jack would already have breakfast made when he goes back into their bedroom. the curtains are still drawn, barring the morning light from weaseling its way in. but it's 10am and one look at robby's face confirms he's not dead to the world. perfect. he lifts a corner of the blanket, plops down onto their bed, and just starts talking.
"i woke up this morning and was craving pancakes for the first time in years. no clue why. i wanted to throw peanut butter chips in there, but i forgot i used them in the brownies i made last week. remind me to add them to the grocery list. but instead i-"
aaand so on and so forth. robby just hums as he talks, toeing the line between asleep and awake. jack's voice is easy to listen to, and he says nothing that requires robby to talk back. it's more like he's throwing him a tether to help bring him to wakefulness, and robby takes it.
"..oh, and i used your coffee mug by the way." he throws in offhandedly. robby would roll his eyes if he were awake enough to expend the effort needed. instead he smirks. jack, repeat offender of stealing his things. sips of his water, spritzes of his cologne, his sweaters, his coffee mugs. and jack pleads guilty with a smug grin every time. "why do you do that? my water tastes the same as yours." robby would argue. "but its your water," jack would shrug.
a fond smile unfurls on robby's face. he finally he sits up.
success. jack takes that as his cue.
he grabs his crutches and opens the curtains. not completely, just enough for the morning to warm the room up slowly. he walks back to the bed and hands robby his glasses from the nightstand before telling him breakfast is waiting. he leaves the door open behind him, letting the light from the rest of the house and the smells of the kitchen filter in to entice him.
a couple minutes later robby is pushing his black frames up, making them all crooked as he rubs the remaining sleep from his eyes. he pinches the bridge of his nose as he shuffles out of the bedroom. jack is staring unabashedly, leaned on the kitchen counter with a smile that brings the soft crinkle around his eyes out. the stove's been wiped clean and the air smells like a mix of butter and coffee. jack tastes like both as he presses his lips to robby's. "morning, sweetheart. your plate's in the microwave."
robby's method is a bit different. jack likes to be groped awake. no, pause. jack likes touching, and lots of it. maybe robby shouldn't phrase it so crudely. he just likes steady, muscle-deep pressure. maybe a gentler approach if robby's fingers are trailing down his spine or squeezing his sides. either way, he doesn't complain how he paws at him so long as he does so like he means it. jack groans weakly when he massages the back of his neck, his shoulders, and especially his forearms. he grunts when robby's fingers ruffle his sleep-mussed hair and scatch his scalp. robby thinks it's a bit like petting a large dog. he just melts, so robby usually has to talk to actually keep him awake.
"we need to buy a new stylus for the record player.." robby would comment as he grabs a handful of jack's calf over the duvet. he settles his weight on the mattress and starts massaging downward. his other hand lands on jack's ankle, long fingers wrapping around it's width. jack hums throatily as robby's thumb into the arch of his foot, pressing deep into the muscles. "shit's skipping every couple seconds. i'm about ready to toss the whole damn thing."
"don't," jack mumbles roughly. robby can barely even hear the man with how deeply his cheek is pressed into his pillow. "just.. check the bottom or the back. should.. should have the model number on it. 's an easy fix, hon."
robby clicks his tongue. his hands move up, massaging jack's thick thighs and rubbing small circles into the backs of his knees. "i know."
"do ya? cause every time you walk past that thing, you look like you want to chuck it out the window."
"i should." robby grumbles, stifling a grin as jack lets out a quiet 'hmmph' as he pulls down the blankets to touch his bare skin. he's smooth and sleep-warm to the touch, freckled skin erupting into goosebumps when robby lightly drags his fingernails down his sides. "it's a ruby tip, we'll be burning through styluses every other month. might as well get something that actually lasts instead of flushing money down the drain."
"it can't be that hard to find a diamond one.." jack counters lazily, disinterest slowly creeping into his argument when he hears the bed creak and robby's lips ghost the back of his shoulder. he smells like coffee and aftershave. did he clean up his beard? jack feels his chest warm with the sudden urge to look, but robby's hands have made it so his body doesn't want to cooperate.
in no time at all it's a total mutiny, and his mouth capitulates to robby's touch. all robby did was wiggle his hand between jack's throat and the pillow and squeeze. not domineeringly, just enough to brand the rhythm of jack's pulse into the pads of his fingers. and that was enough to tip the scales in robby's favor. he feels the exact moment he no longer gives a damn about preserving the poor turntable. "yeah, yeah, do whatever you want.." jack drawls, giving up his counterargument entirely when robby's hands converge on the back of his neck. "set it on fire for all i care."
robby laughs quietly. he helps jack turn onto his back, and the two stare at each other for a moment. robby's deep brown eyes twinkle down at him, basking in the frivolous victory. jack's narrow at him. he crosses his arms. "i hope you're serving coffee with your manipulation this morning," jack drones. robby lets out a little hoot of laughter before he leans down to place an affectionate peck onto his mouth. "have i ever not?"
the rabbot angst is so insane like that would not be an easy relationship. I knowww they both have crazy anxious avoidant attachment styles.
robby who wants to cling closer to jack because he's so desperate for him to stay, wants to know where he is at all times, if he secretly hates him. robby who can't stop thinking about leaving first, because if he leaves, he can't be left. not again.
jack who's been so lonely for so long without his wife, and couldn't bear the grief of losing another partner, so he's checking in with robby every half hour. unable to sleep at night, pressing his fingers to robby's pulse. are you still here. are you still alive. jack who's also terrified of letting himself be this close to someone because of his grief. because he really, really can't go through that again.
• when they got married, they both wore necklaces with their rings on them until jacks chain broke. robby teared up when jack moved his late wife’s ring off and put it on his middle finger and slid his ring that matched robby onto his ring finger. he didn’t tear up because he felt like he “won” against sarah, but because jack has never showed any amount of moving on and settling that past of him like he did that day. he teared up out of being proud for jack.
• one of robby’s favorite places to put his hands is in jacks hair. in the early stages of their relationship, jack ended up having to shave his hair down to a buzz cut bc a kid in the ED was a little too happy with the bubblegum in his hand. robby genuinely mourned the loss of jacks curls. when it was fully grown back, jack felt more inclined to start taking care of his curls just because robby would become mesmerized by it and wouldn’t keep his hands out of his hair.
• similarly, jacks favorite places to put his hands is on robby’s hands. at first, he started picking up robby’s hands and playing with them while they were waiting in line or sitting together because he noticed that robby would unnecessarily fidget with them. soon enough, however, taking one of robby’s hands in their free time became one of jacks favorite things as he either just held robby’s hand or trace the lines on his palm.
• in another universe where they were together since the beginning, jack played really fast and loose with DADT. too loose. he hid photos of robby in his bag, only replaced “him” for “her” and “michael” for “michelle”. it was a miracle that he never slipped up those two replacements with how little he filtered when talking about his “girl” back home.
• they are both obsessed with winter. they love walking outside together, bundled up, gloved hands holding. robby always loves the way snow falls onto jacks grey curls and jack always loves the way robby’s face becomes all red.
• robby grew up lower class with his grandma, jack grew up upper middle class with his nuclear family. robby is extremely frugal, hate extravagant things, and rarely spends money on himself. jack doesn’t spend unnecessary money, but he is more comfortable with the money he makes as a high earning attending. he spends probably too much money on robby because he likes the way robby squirms until he just sighs, thanks jack, and kisses him silly.
• jack was the one that decided on the no PDA rule at work, even if robby was about to bring it up as well. so, anytime jack pouts when robby won’t kiss him during handoff or hug him on his way out, robby just says something along the lines of “you asked for this” with a stupid smile. jack just pouts more.
• robby always complains that his graying hairs and glasses make him look older. jack openly goes feral over it, saying how attractive robby looks with his glasses and ruffled hair with gray strands. “aging like fine wine” he often says, which robby normally refutes but accepts the string of kisses he gets from jack.
• jack is the only one since his grandma died to call him mikey and mishka. he is also one of the only people, along with dana, to actually call him michael.
• robby has known he is bi for a very long time, and often had a string of male partners that fizzled out as quick as his 7 week flings with women. jack, on the other hand, has known he is bi, but he dated a few women and then met his wife. he never really dated men until robby, and he often feels grateful for the fact that the first and last man he’ll ever date is robby.
• robby is an avid reader while jack is an avid phone games player. they’ll do both simultaneously on the couch together. jack is laying on top of robby with his back on robby’s stomach. robby’s hand is carding through jacks hair while jack squints at the phone with his glasses and taps with one finger like the elderly person he is.
• ever since they got together, the always make sure they go to the cemetery together. jack is never alone when he visits his wife, even if robby is in the car waiting as to give him space. robby is never alone when he visits his grandma or adamson, even if jack is standing far behind to give him space.
robby’s crying silently in bed. it doesnt have to be silent, he’s alone in his brownstone. so achingly alone. this is routine now for him, every night he goes to bed an hour early, to make sure he doesnt lose out on sleep. his arms are wrapped around himself and it really doesnt do the job like someone elses. his face is dry every morning when he wakes up, his eyes rimmed red. he brushes it off as exhaustion, but jack sees right through him.
when he gets a call on jack’s day off, robby’s just off work. he’s showered and skipped dinner, already in bed. robby’s out of practice, unfortunately, at hiding the tears from his voice. he hasn’t had to since his bubbe passed.
jack couldve guessed anyway, and he’s there in sub 20 minutes. robby gets a hot soup and the security that he doesnt have to cry himself to sleep, alone, ever again.
the absolute disgust i have to sean in your latest ficlet is a testament to how good your writing is! the more he talked the more i wanted to punch him in the faceee!!! also hello i've missed seeing you in the rabbot tag, as i've always loved (always in love!) with your writing hehe hope you've been well, sugarcake <3
this is so sweet 🥹 i’ve been good… busy as hell but good! i hope you are doing well!!! compliments of my writing are a hit of serotonin for me so thank you so much i take this to heart, i hope to he more present in the rabbot tag (let’s hope life becomes a little less busy)
Despite all of Jacks complaints, Robby has in fact dated people in the past. It devastates him, but he has had to go through “supporting” Robby during all of his flings before both him and Jack finally decided to just bite the bullet and get together. He saw all the women that looked at Robby with a hungry look in their eyes that made Jacks skin crawl. He saw all the men that look at Robby like he hung the moon and stars. That one, especially, got him going. He was the one who always made that face, yet Robby never acknowledged it until their drunken kiss.
To further his disappointment, about five months into their relationship, Robby admitted to rarely feeling fulfilled in his past relationships. Besides Janey, he said how most of the time it was to fill his time so he wouldn’t be alone.
When Jack had asked him why he was so scared of being alone, Robby shared two facts about his life. One being his mother leaving him when he was younger. The second being the first man he ever dated, and, from what Robby shared, Sean was a mean man.
Never outwardly violent. Robby had to clarify that as soon as he saw Jacks jaw tighten and his brows furrow. He wasn’t violent, ever. But, he got cruel. He’d spew words and statements that Robby shouldn’t have ever been in the vicinity of.
During that conversation, Robby claimed to be mostly over it. which, honestly, Jack believed. It was obvious that short yet messy relationship took its toll on Robby, but it was also obvious that he was moving on, has been moving on.
“It doesn’t hurt that I’m with you now, either,” he remembers Robby saying as he looked at Jack with the exact look Jack only ever reserved for him. A softness in his brown eyes that made Jack melt at the sight of them.
Jack had laughed, a soft laugh he reserved for Robby because he knew how much the other man loved the way his eyes crinkled, or how his teeth showed, or how he would tip his head back slightly.
That was that. A part of Robby’s past that clears up certain qualities of him. They moved on. They didn’t ignore it, but they moved on with a bit of a heavier weight upon their relationship. A newfound trust due to quiet confessions in the moonlight of the living room.
Jack never forgot it. He never forgets what Robby says. Unless he is looking at his mouth, or his hands, or his eyes, or….
“Jack, are you listening to me?” Robby asks with a playful smile.
With a small hum, Jack lifts his eyes from where they were planted on Robby’s hand which is holding a small glass with a silky, amber liquid.
Right.
They were on a small date night at their favorite bar, trying to disconnect from their busy lives and just be together, in the moment. Yet, Jack got stuck in memory lane as he watched Robby’s hands move around. He could practically feel the ghost of Robby’s hand on his back, or his hair, or his hip. All places they were a mere forty minutes ago, even after Jacks many protests of their need to get out and do something as a couple, not coworkers, a couple.
“Oh, yeah?” Robby counters, obviously trying to hold back a small giggle. “What was I talking about then?”
“Yeah, you know what, brother-“ Jack starts, trying to get some small banter going which he always loves doing with Robby. But, he is interrupted by another man walking over to their stools by the bar. Before he can turn around to see whose footsteps those belong too, he sees a flash of uncertainty and dread flash over Robby’s face which he quickly hides with a weak smile.
“Michael!” The man behinds them bellows. Jack whips his head around to see who it is, but it isn’t a face he’s ever seen.
“Sean!” Robby says back, trying to match Sean’s cheeriness as he glances at Jack to share a help me look. His smile is tight and his eyes are wider than any smile should make them be.
“Ha! God, how long has it been?” Sean says with a toothy smile that churns Jack stomach. Like shark teeth, he thinks. He isn’t looking at Robby like he hung the moon and the stars, and for some reason, that makes Jack more annoyed if he did. Instead, he looks at him with a a glint in his eye that Jack has learned to never trust in men like Sean. Big, tall, a fight most men would lose.
“Yeah… it’s been a bit, hasn’t it?” Robby replies as he ducks his head down. Normally, Jack would have to hide how cute he finds Robby’s bashfulness, but the red blush that washes over Robby’s face is missing. Now, it just seems that he is making himself smaller with the way his shoulders hike up.
“Who’s this?” Sean asks as he points a finger in Jacks direction. In Jacks mind, he has no idea how Robby is going to go about this. Keep their relationship a secret? Lie? Tell the truth?
“Oh, this is my boyfriend, Jack,” Robby replies, as he gives his first real smile since Sean came in. A smile only for Jack, no one else. “Jack… Sean.”
“Hi,” Jack says curtly, not wanting to waste his time on the man that can make Robby seem so small and scared. Not of fists, but of words, a weapon Robby has never been able to defend himself from successfully. Fists be can fight back, all 6’1 of him can, yet never words.
Sean doesn’t even give Jack the time of day. He opts for a quick chuckle that Jack doesn’t trust the humor behind and turns his head right back to Robby.
“Still going for men, huh?” He says, coldly, any humor now replaced by his own evil intent of hurting for fun. “Thought you’d be over that little phase of yours.”
“Yeah, well if I remember correctly, you had your own phase too,” Robby bites back. A way of nature he learned after Sean. Taking any comment and thinking it as an attack due to the harsh words he faced.
“Nah, you were just easy back then-“
“Alrighty!” Jack says, cutting off Sean with the slam of his whiskey class and he fakes his own cheeriness. “I’m just trying to have a nice night out Robby here, so if you could leave us be.”
Sean chuckles again, shaking his head as he bows it down. Again, Jack doesn’t find any humor in the sound, hating the way it grates itself out of the man’s throat. A violent sound, really. Jack doesn’t really think there is any thing gentle about this man.
“He needs another man to fight his battles now, does he?” Sean says, looking straight at Robby who is looking anywhere but the man’s eyes. “You were always like that huh? Had a baby face and everything too.”
Those words must have hit close to home because soon enough Robby, whose head is still angled towards the ground, does the smallest shake as he grips the bar table with his hand. What does Jack in is the tears he can see welling in Robby’s eyes.
How many times has this exact moment happened between the two? How many times has Robby denied and denied and denied, but nothing will ever fulfill the other man? How many tears shed?
With that, Jack whips out his wallet, slams a twenty down on the counter. He grabs Robby’s hand, and starts to quickly lead the two of them out of the bar, far away from Sean. Far away from a past Robby has already escaped.
“Leave him the fuck alone, you hear me?” Jack snarls, leaving before he hears a response.
In a previous life, Jack might have even threw a punch. Maybe in this life he would have too. God knows he wanted to. But the sight of Robby making himself so incredibly small in such a practice way, no fists are going to fix that. Nothing will change that man. Distance was the solution.
He hears a sound that comes from Sean that a offly loud. He doesn’t give it the time of day, all of his focus being on leading Robby out.
Soon enough, they are exiting the back door of the bar and entering the familiar sidewalk. It’s open, people can walk by and see them, but the time of day — almost midnight — and the somewhat secludedness of the certain neighborhood they are in is enough to make Jack feel safe enough to just stop for a moment.
Robby’s hand quickly retracts from Jacks. Jack opens his mouth to say something, anything, but it cut off before he can.
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t even that bad when we were together-“ Before Robby can finish, Jack is too taken by the far away look Robby’s eyes are sporting, the way his hands are slightly presented out in front of him, shaking. He shoots forward and wraps his arms around Robby’s neck, brings his hands up to run through his hair, and just holds on to him.
“Robby… it doesn’t have to be this tragic story for you to be uncomfortable or scared around him, okay?” All Jack hears is a hum as he feels Robby’s head slightly nod in his hands. It isn’t enough, though. Jack tilts Robby’s head back and holds eye contact. “Okay?” He repeats.
With watery eyes and a shaky breath, Robby takes a slow inhale, all while holding eye contact, and nods his head. “Okay.”
“Good.”
Neither of them say much in the next few moments, content to just stand there. They are still looking at each other, and Jacks hands are still in Robby’s hair. What a sight they must be, but, honestly, Jack couldn’t care less. If Robby needed another 30 minutes, and hour, two, he would stay here for every minute if it’s what Robby needed to take a breather. It isn’t until Robby’s slight shifting becomes more apparent that Jack realizes that it might be time to get out of here.
“How about we get out of here?” Jack says, relishing in the small nod he gets from Robby. “I know we have way better whiskey at your apartment. I mean, come on brother, I know this is our favorite bar, but god… we could do better.”
Robby laughed, a noise that was like church bells to Jack.
That was that. They walked home in the moonlight of the city they have inhabited for longer than they haven’t. The memory not forgotten but shelved for the moments of their relationship. Heavier, sure, but it’s easy to carry with two sets of shoulders.
Robby was never used to celebrating his birthday, let alone receiving gifts. Now that Jack finally found his way into Robby's life, he took it upon himself to show just how much Robby deserved his love and everything more.
—
Robby doesn’t have a childhood photo album.
The first time he learnt that this was a thing was in fourth grade, at a friend’s birthday party. Their parents brought out a family photo album and showed the kids sitting around the dining table — this was them at three years old tripping over a scooter, this was them graduating kindergarten, first time at the zoo crying ugly tears being scared of the tiger — while Robby’s friend tried to fight back the embarrassment of being exposed by the impromptu conversation that the anecdotes triggered, Robby’s gaze lingered. Memories documented in such detail was a concept so foreign to him, and what his friend saw as being put on the spot in front of their friends, all Robby saw was a childhood full of love and a kid cared for enough for ordinary things to become memorable.
He was too young to suppress the tiny flicker of longing for something remotely similar taking root in his little heart, but he was old enough to know that it wasn’t a good idea to dwell on these thoughts. He had a roof over his head. He had food to eat and clothes that fit. And even if there were days he cried silent tears facing the wall on his small twin bed, he would tell himself that he had enough. That his bubbe took him in when she didn’t have to. That he should be grateful. That he should require nothing more than what she could offer.
Robby spent his school years teaching himself to occupy the right amount of space. To hold himself in a way that was just tall enough to be acknowledged and not particularly noticed. And when untended emotions left alone for too long threatened to surface, he pushed them down and tucked them away in a box, the lid made up from the phrases he knew too well by heart.
Don’t be too much, don’t need too much, and don’t hope for too much.
That was exactly what Robby told himself as he prepared and packed his bags for med school. He didn’t have a lot of things. And among those things he had less that he allowed himself to call his own.
But he did have photos. Seven of them, to be exact. All different sizes, some faded and a bit wrinkled on the edges, like that of his mom that his bubbe gave him, reluctantly after a night of confusion and tears, and the one of him as a baby, staring into the camera with eyes so big he often wondered what he was thinking back then.
There were other ones, newer and the images more crisp — four of which was given to him by friends or their families. Not exactly photos of him, but more like photos with him in it. Memories that he participated in and happened to be captured with the main characters. People kind enough to give them to him after the film developed. He grabbed a brown paper envelop to put them in, one by one, putting his favorite photo last on the top of the thin deck — the only one he had of him and his bubbe. It was taken on his twelfth birthday, his bubbe asking a favor from his neighbor using their camera. Robby was sitting sideways on her lap in the photo, one foot on the edge of the chair to balance out his weight because he was a growing boy who was afraid that he was too heavy for his bubbe to bear. She was smiling at the camera, and Robby was looking at her. Not exactly smiling, but happy. Happy enough for a kid that had already lost the privilege of being a kid for some time.
—
He was never a fan of birthdays. When he was younger it reminded too much of what he didn’t have, and as he trickled into his adult years it became an old habit of being totally comfortable of not being in the center of attention.
That, all changed when Jack came into his life. Robby never explicitly told him the reason why he hated making a deal out of his birthday, and Jack being Jack, understood enough not to probe. But he made sure from the start that Robby didn’t spend the day alone. It began from a casual “do you want to watch [whatever game is on that day] after your shift”, and they would eat takeout, drink a beer or two like they often did any other day, and Jack would never mention anything about the significance of that particular day, whatsoever.
Robby appreciated it. He appreciated it more than words could describe, because only Jack knew how to leave enough room for Robby to not be self-conscious of his company, but at the same time, stay close enough to fill up that emptiness he was too scared to name. Jack managed to ease into his habits in ways Robby only realized after it had happened, and throughout the years, with the patience held only by someone who loved another dearly and quietly, or someone who was secretly gifted in taming very easily startled animals, Jack had managed to morph the itinerary of Robby’s birthday from a casual hangout to nice dinners out, activities that happened to exist on the same day, to a decade later, coming to Robby’s and cooking an elaborate dinner for him with dessert that suggest the least amount of resemblance to a birthday cake.
And now, a few months into them crossing the bridge and moving in together, Jack had made it his business to start introducing the bizarre concept of gift-giving.
They had just finished dinner and settled in the sofa, Robby’s body loose and buzzing from the abundance of sugar Jack had snucked into the chocolate panna cotta that was apparently also making him emotionally pliable. Because Robby was just now noticing the rectangular object sitting on the coffee table, wrapped neatly by someone who also had the audacity to put a gold bow on it.
“What is this?”
“This,” Jack drawled, not bothering to hide the fond amusement in his voice, his arm coming across the back of the couch and landing on the nape of Robby’s neck, “is what common folks call a gift.”
Robby stared at him. With those big doe eyes that made it more than acceptable to say that he looked like a deer in the headlights.
“Would you like to open it?”
Robby kept staring.
“Hey.” Jack’s voice softened, his hand gently squeezing the back of Robby’s neck, his go-to Robby-soothing gesture in moments like these.
“I know we said no gifts, but this is technically not a gift for you, it’s a gift for us. It just happened to need you to reveal it for us.” Jack paused, letting that settle in.
“Do you think you can do us the honor, sweetheart?”
Robby blinked. He was not mentally prepared for this. As much as he wanted to curl into himself and disappear into his tangled emotions that had been summoned by this situation, the gentleness in Jack’s voice made it hard to think about disappointing him.
As Robby gingerly reached out to the wrapped package, wearing an expression of someone bracing for impact, Jack thought about the conversation he had with Robby, all those years ago, when he asked him what he wanted for his birthday. Robby had looked so scared and startled that Jack sensed there was something buried underneath that Robby was not ready to confide yet. It was later, after talking to Dana and Adamson and bonding over shared love for the same person, that he got a glimpse into what Robby had went through as a kid. Even Adamson had only been told pieces of the story, him being the person closest to stepping into Robby’s orbit.
They all loved Robby. And they all understood that Robby needed time to be comfortable with letting himself be loved. And probably more time for him to believe that he was deserving of all the love they gave to him unconditionally. But they were willing to wait, especially Jack. Especially after Adamson passed and Dana had more on her plate. Jack was determined to show him all his love from the sidelines until Robby felt ready to come to him.
And here he was.
Right next to him.
Holding the gift that hopefully would convince him more of just how lovable and deserving of love he was.
“Jack…” Barely a whisper. Robby was looking down at the unwrapped gift, his brown eyes bright and face so soft that Jack wanted nothing more than cradle him in his arms and never let go.
Sitting in Robby’s lap, was a photo album.
Jack had spent months putting it together, digging through old files and learning about negative films and photography jargon that he never thought he would need one day. But he had wanted to do this for Robby for a very long time. Ever since Robby showed him the handful of photos he had of his childhood and Jack had tried very hard to hold back his tears as his heart ached for him. For a child forced to grow up in a fortnight. For a child who grew up without people having the capacity to celebrate his every milestone. For a child that learnt too quickly to not need what he required. For the child that was still inside Robby, who Jack longed to reach through and hug him and tell him that he was not alone.
And he got to, in this way.
Robby was flipping through the album now, quiet and nearly reverent. Jack turned and placed a gentle kiss on his temple, before he rested his head on Robby’s shoulder, gazing down at the photos together.
Med-school Robby, smiling at the camera, stethoscope around his neck. Robby in his 20s, laughing, a real toothy laugh that Jack found incredibly endearing. A single photo that Jack was lucky enough to find of Robby in his MSF days. More of Robby as a young doctor, wearing the same serious expression he still did decades later in trauma rooms.
“Oh.” Robby let out a breath, his thumb brushing against the plastic film covering the photo of a younger version of him standing next to Adamson. Robby mid-30s, tall, confident, eyes determined. Adamson looking up at him, smiling, eyes soft, proud. Next to it, photo of them sitting together in discussion. Another page of Robby standing and watching Adamson as he lectured. Adamson patting him on the shoulder while Robby laughed.
“How on earth…” Robby looked towards Jack, his eyes red around the edges.
“With lots of help and some favors promised.” Jack’s finger brushed against Robby’s, tracing over the figure of a younger Robby in scrubs. “Look at you.” He said softly, watching the color blossom on Robby’s cheeks. “Just as handsome.”
Robby’s breath caught, eyelids fluttered as he made an attempt to say something, gave up and went back to the album.
Jack let him. He had all the time in the world. And Robby didn’t need to say anything out loud for Jack to hear him.
—
The next section was getting closer to where they were now. Robby growing out a beard, as the chief attending. Robby presenting at donor meetings. Robby in his element in the ER.
And Robby with Jack. Both of them a decade or so younger, talking to each other at the nurse station. Robby and Jack at conferences together, smiling at the camera. Robby and Jack doing handovers, talking to student doctors, giving instructions.
“And…that’s when I inserted myself into your life.” Jack mused, his eyes catching Robby’s and he could tell Robby was thinking about those days as well. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners and warmth settled into his expression.
“I knew you were gonna be trouble the day you walked into the trauma room with that smirk and snapped on those gloves like you owned the place.”
“Well, I’m your trouble now.”
“I’m having an emotionally vulnerable moment right now and all you do is tease.” Robby shook his head as he turned a page. “You never change.”
Seeing Robby take in the next section was a treat that Jack savored. He would never admit it but he shed more than a tear or two while he put the photos in. It was the most elaborated section, because it was where their story truly began.
And Jack had treasured every single moment of it.
There were selfies of them together. Photos that Jack took of Robby when he was unaware of it happening. Screenshots of texts that made him blush seeing them again. Coffee cups, plates of breakfasts, bowls of salads, but always in pairs. Because they existed as a pair now. Photos of random things that became their inside jokes. Robby sprawled on the floor after giving up on assembling their bookcase. Domestic Robby. Robby making faces. Sleeping. Robby on the toilet flipping off at Jack behind the camera. The last photo, a selfie of Jack with Robby brushing his teeth in the background, wearing only his boxers.
“Was that one really necessary.” Robby murmured under his breath.
“I wanted to capture every moment of you, of the life I’m sharing with you. Because no matter how mundane you think it is, to me, it is you there, with me, alive, and present. And that means so much to me, Robby.”
“You can’t just say that…” Robby nudged him gently on the side, “All serious and that when I’m only made aware of a photo existing of me like this.”
“You should know that I played nice because I have many photos of you wearing less than that.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.” Jack quipped with a smug grin. “You love me.”
“I do.” Robby huffed out a laugh, closing the photo album and putting it back on the table. His expression shifted as he turned towards Jack, fingers interlocking with his.
“Thank you. For the album, for the dinner, and all of this.” He kept his gaze on the album as he gestured between them with his other hand, flustered. “I don’t know how I deserve you.”
“Robby. Look at me.” Jack put some force into his voice, and that caught his attention. Robby stilled.
“I put this together because I want you to know that you’re cared for, that you’re loved. That of all people, you especially deserve something celebrating you. This is only the beginning — all the pages that’s left unfilled, that’s you. That’s us.” Jack used his hand on Robby’s neck to pull him close, their foreheads touching now.
“You came this far, and all I did was gather the evidence that each of your steps counted. And you won’t be in this alone anymore. You were never alone, baby.”
Jack planted a soft kiss on the edge of Robby’s mouth. His nose brushed against Robby’s face, damp now.
“I’m here. And I love you. So much. And I’ll be here no matter what, love you no matter what.” Jack paused, squeezing Robby’s neck to let the words sink in. His voice was rough as he continued.
“And the most important thing is, you deserve all of it, and so much more. And this here, this album, is that love made tangible for you to feel, to touch, to believe in.”
Jack pulled away to look into Robby’s eyes again. Somehow he was also crying now. But through the blurriness he could see Robby, his gaze fond, present, there. And for a brief second he could see a small boy with the same doe eyes staring back at him.
“You’ve got so many wonderful things to see, and so many people to love ahead of you.” He whispered quietly, hoping the words would reach beyond years and, for this time, stay.
Robby checking into inpatient care. Robby checking into outpatient care and Jack offering his home so he doesn't have to tell anyone. Jack doing the paper work when Robby needs more time. Robby breaking down into Jack's arms. Jack coming home to find Robby crying on the floor. Jack sleeping with Robby just so he doesn't have to be alone. Jack comforting Robby as he did when his wife died.
Just whatever happens to them in those four months I need them to go together through it.
a little idea of robby and jack being together when jack lost his leg
(very very angsty, who would i be without some angst tho?) some of this also might be widely inaccurate but i had a bad writers block so im literally just typing whatever as long as i’m writing
Jack was exhausted. He’d been on the plane for hours, waited in lines for hours, he’d been traveling for hours. It didn’t help that he was getting either a “thank you for your service” or a nasty stare. The military was polarizing today and him having to wear his army greens the entire plane ride home wasn’t helping to redirect any of the very unwanted attention on him. Luckily, his pants covered his new prosthetic, making sure no one knew about it besides some speculation when they spotted his slight limb.
He was still getting used to the prosthetic, still getting used to the whole idea of missing half of his leg. He stayed in the army hospital through his first stages of rehabilitation. All he wanted to do was go home and be with Robby, but he got mean. He snapped at nurses who were just trying to help, some days he rarely left his room, too stuck in his own head. He didn’t want Robby to see him like that despite Robby’s many pleas over the phone.
“Please, Jack,” he remembers Robby whispering into the phone. “I want- I need you home, I can help, I promise I can help,” he begged, broken.
Jack had shut his eyes tight, tightened his grip on the landline, willing his body to sound calm and not completely broken from hearing Robby like that. He never wanted to be the reason Robby sounded like that, but he couldn’t make Robby go through this with him. He needed to get back on his feet before seeing Robby again, he needed to be somewhere near the Jack Robby knew before his deployment.
“I’m sorry..” Jack whispered back into the phone, failing to sound anywhere near put together. “I’ll be back, I promise you… I’ll be back.”
With a pause between the both of them, and all the noise being exchanged between landlines is their own heavy breaths and sniffles, they sit there in silence, miles away, with an tragic accident separating them.
“I love you…” Jack slowly says, breaking the silence.
“Just- please just come home, Jack.. please,” Robby begs again, no longer fighting to sound composed as his voice shakes and wobbles.
With a sigh that turned into a small cry, Jack hung up.
Now, however, Jack is going to be back. After his many hours traveling, he stands in baggage claim, waiting to see his beat up duffel make its way down the carousel while he tries to ignore the echoes of Robby’s desperate pleading that bangs against the walls of his mind, refusing to let him forget the way his partners voice cracked.
His mind doesn’t let up, but instead he is given visuals of Robby at home, alone, getting the call from Jack and being absolutely devastated and heart broken when he realizes his partner isn’t coming back for a long while. He knows the way Robby is wired, he knows that he is overworking himself at the hospital, not resting, not taking care of himself as he stresses over Jack. He just knows.
And knowing that Jack is the reason behind all of that, well, it makes him not want to come home and make Robby be with someone who would do something so cruel to their partner. Robby didn’t sign up for this, yet he begged to be apart of it, pleaded with Jack to just come home.
He is home. He made it home with his brain on autopilot, somehow, as all he could think about was how he disappointed Robby, left him alone in the dark.
He opens the car door of the taxi he does not remember hailing, hands him some cash through the window, and walks up to their small town house. The windows show a dark house, not illuminated by the soft lamps Robby had bought at a thrift store, claiming it would make their home “cozier.”
Of course, Jack thinks. Robby’s not home. Why would he be? It’s the middle of the day, he’s at the hospital, most likely overworking himself.
For Jack, however, he doesn’t think he can wait any longer until he sees Robby. Selfishly, all he wants to do is barge into the ED, find whatever room Robby is currently in, and hold him and never let him go. He made Robby wait weeks, and Jack can’t wait another couple hours?
He may be a selfish man, yet he is a selfish man who justifies himself when it comes to Robby.
He makes his way into their house, trying to ignore how cold and empty it feels with only one current occupant. Their kitchen no longer having the charm of two mugs in the sink but instead one filled with forgotten, cold coffee. The bathroom is missing a toothbrush, the shoe rack only holding shoes of one, and the bed only holds one indent on Robbys side. Jacks pillows are starying from their regular spot, lying near Robbys side. Some of Jacks clothes, like his favorite hoodie that Robby often steals or the shirt that they equally share, are thrown near his pillows. If he really looked, he would bet that his bottle of shampoo and cologne, both smells Robby has admitted to adoring because they remind him of Jack, would be emptier then they had left them.
Oh, Robby, Jack thinks as his heart breaks for the other man.
With the sight of their home, Jacks plan is solidified. He quickly finds some clothes for him to change into and a towel as he makes his way to their bathroom. Once he opens the door, ready to take a quick shower and then make his way over to the hospital, he stops dead in his tracks and his breath catches.
Their walk in shower has become equipped with metal bars, and the corner of the shower now holds a small bench.
“Oh, fuck.. Robby,” Jack breathes out as his eyes quickly fill with tears for a partnership he mourned while away. A partnership that Robby has equally mourned as he painstakingly accommodated a new part of Jack that he hadn’t even met yet.
“Oh, god.. Rob, fuck, no no no,” Jack whines as lowers himself down to the ground and starts shaking with sobs and agony.
He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to shower. The entire notion of the prosthetic is incredibly new to him and he often finds himself reverting back to things he would never be able to do again. But Robby… Robby had heard about his lost leg and immediately did everything he could to make Jack feel welcome back home.
And what did Jack do in return? He abandoned the one person he said he would never do that to. He promised Robby that no matter what happened, they would work through it. Yet, Jack hung up the phone, but Robby still installed shower bars.
He doesn’t know how long he stayed on the bathroom floor, but eventually he got up, using the bathroom counter to push himself up.
He skipped the shower, not wanting to look at the bar installments any longer.
Quickly, he makes his way out of the bathroom, eyes still puffy, and strips his army uniform off, delighted to get the thick clothing off to replace it with Robby’s soft, navy blue, zip up jacket and a pair of his own cargo pants. He stupidly decides to keep his boots on while taking both the uniform off and the cargo pants on. He hasn’t gotten good at putting shoes on over the prosthetic foot yet, and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to even look at the prosthetic right now. He doesn’t want a physical reminder of why he and Robby were apart for far longer than the army promised.
With his clothing of choice on, he grabs his keys that were collecting dust in their bowl by the door, his PTMC badge that he used in the occasional shifts he picked up before his deployment, and walks out the front door, waiting for a taxi to make its way on by.
Once PTMC is in sight, Jack abruptly asks the driver to stop, too antsy to continue the slow drive up the road. With a confused look, the driver unlocks the car, and Jack races out, pays, and starts walking up the doors of the ED with a slight limp.
Once he enters through the automatic doors, he keeps his head down and goes straight through the main entrance, swiping his badge, that he wasn’t completely sure would still be active, at the main entrance, and walks in.
He doesn’t make it far. Just past the first couple triage patients.
“Oh, absolutely not!” He hears someone yell, making him snap his head up to find the source of the yelling. It’s Dana. “Oh no, no, Abbot you don’t get to walk in here just to see Robby.”
Jack doesn’t know exactly what Robby told everyone, they didn’t talk much and Robby doesn’t even know he is home yet.
“Dana, please, I need to see him,” Jack croaks out, emotion overtaking him as he holds eye contact with the nurse. To Dana’s credit, her eyes soften just a fraction and her voice lowers but stays firm.
“Jack. You have no idea how he’s been these last couple weeks, you don’t know what he looks like, you don’t even know if he’s taking care of himself,” Dana starts, and damn if she doesn’t know exactly the right words to draw another shaky breath from the man. “You are not going to see him right now because if I’m being honest, I don’t think he would be able to handle it in a way he would be comfortable showing the rest of the department.”
Before Jack can reply, Dana bulldozes over his words and continues.
“Jack… he has been in shambles,” Dana softly says, ignoring the way he own voice starts to weaken. “Everyone is worried about him. Adamson has tried to get him to talk about, he tries to bring him to his favorite diner outside of work, Robby doesn’t go. He stays here far longer than he should, gets here earlier too. We all know he isn’t sleeping if the eye bags are any indication. God damn it, Jack, we all know when he comes in here wearing your clothes. And we all know that he is like this because of you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I thought this was for the better,” Jack sobs, his eyes now fixated on the ground. Soon enough, he finds himself in the arms of Dana, a comfort he isn’t one hundred percent sure he deserves right now.
“I’m not going to say it’s okay, it’s not, but you’re here,” Dana says, trying her best to comfort him with her motherly tone. “I’ll find Adamson, and we can figure out what to do, because if I’m being honest, I think Robby might just break if he sees you.”
With a nod of his head, Jack unlatches from Dana and just stands there as he awaits Adamson. It doesn’t take long until the other man is standing across from him with a a slight disapproving stare. Everyone knew how protective Adamson was of Robby who was practically like a son to him. Jack was foolish to think he was any different when it came to that protectiveness.
Without saying anything, Adamson continues to stare as he waves Jack over. Jack makes his way over with unsure steps and almost flinches with Adamson holds him by the shoulder and starts directing him to a part of the ED.
Jack whips his head around the department, hoping to just see a glimpse of Robby. Yet, Adamsons demanding and quick steps are enough to bring them to their destination — which turns out to be Adamsons secluded office — quick enough that Jack can’t spot the tall, brown-haired man.
“Adamson, what are we-“ Jack starts to ask once the office door behind them closes, but soon enough he is interrupted by the older doctor.
“Stay here, Jack. I’ll be back.” Adamson says over Jack as he turns around, grabs for the door handle, and in the blink of an eye he is alone in the office.
With that, Jack collapses into the closest arm chair with a groan as his leg finally starts to give out on him. If he has to wait for whatever the hell Adamson plans to make him wait for, he might as well give his leg a break. However, he can’t help but bounce the other one up and down as his mind races with anxiety.
Jack doesn’t even realize he had zoned out and let his anxiety take over until his mind is interrupted with the click of the door. Jack shoots up from his seat, an instinct that is both his current anxiety and a motion that had been burned into his brain thanks to the military.
“Why are you taking me to your office, A-“ Robby starts, but once he slowly bring his head up his feet abruptly stop and he forgets the question he was asking Adamson.
Not for the first time that day, Jack freezes as his heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. He looks Robby up and down who is stuck in a daze looking at Jack. Once he takes the other man in, his mind comes to one conclusion: Robby looks terrible.
No amount of detailing could prepare Jack for the visual of Robby. His eye bags are more pronounced then they have ever been, he doesn’t seem to be taking care of his hair or beard, and he has definitely lost weight. He looks sick, Jack thinks, and all he wants to do is run his hands across Robby’s face and hair, trying to just kiss him better.
“Hi, Mikey,” Jack says softly, trying to pour as much adoration and love into the nickname.
Robby takes a step toward Jack once Jack spoke, making Adamson feel compelled to leave the room as to give them some privacy.
“Hi.” Jack repeats once Robby gets closer, only a foot of distance in between them. He can see the tears filling his red eyes and the way his jaw is slightly clenched. He is close enough to hear his shaky breaths as he looks at Jack like he isn’t one hundred percent sure that he is real.
“Rob, I’m sorry,” Jack starts, but the minute he speaks again Robby is rushing into him as he starts sobbing. Jack quickly snakes his arms around Robby’s back and tugs him close.
“It’s okay, Misha,” Jack soothes. “It’s alright. I’m here now, even if I should have been here sooner. I’m sorry, babe, fuck.. I’m so sorry.”
“Jack,” Robby croaks out in a tone Jack never wants to hear again. He’s pleading and begging in Jacks arms for everything to stop and all Jack can do is hold him and hope it’s enough. “Jack- I didn’t- you said you loved me… you hung up, oh god, I never said it back.. no no no, I never said it back. Jack I do, I love you I swear.”
“Robby,” Jack whispers as he guides Robby’s face out of where it had buried into Jacks neck and holds his face in both hands so he can look him directly in the eye. “I never doubted that.”
With Jacks reassurance, Robby’s sobs double over and he starts shaking uncontrollably.
“You were hurt, Jack… badly,” Robby whispers as he says it through his cries. “You were hurt, and I couldn’t be there. Jack… it’s been months.”
Instead of replying right away, Jack notices the way Robby’s knees are shaking and if they don’t move soon, Jack is going to have to take all of Robby’s weight, not just the majority he is already holding. Jack doesn’t necessarily want to find out if his own legs will be able to withstand that so he leads them to the small couch in Adamsons office.
Once they are sat, Jack tries to ignore the way his stomach aches from the terrible and devastating noises Robby is making as he guides Robby’s head into his lap who goes completely willing and even wraps his arms around Jacks legs.
Now that they are settled, Jack says “I’m so so sorry, Robby,” he starts. “I’m so sorry that I was away for longer then intended. I’m sorry you couldn’t be there when I was hurt. I’m sorry I never called after that one call. I’m sorry that you were here alone. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being sorry Robs.”
Instead of replying, Robby just keeps shaking his head no against Jacks legs and Jack doesn’t know exactly what to do with that but all he knows is that something is still bothering Robby. Right now, though, he just wants Robby to stop crying. His sobs have quieted to small cries and sniffles which is equally as achingly sad to Jack. He only stops shaking his head once Jacks hands finds Robby’s hair, their favorite spot to be. Robby lets out a loud sigh that turns into a small whine.
“I missed you so fucking much, Jack,” Robby whispers as if he scared of the admission.
“I missed you too, Mikey, missed you so much I think I started going crazy,” Jack jokes which draws a small huff from Robby. For not hearing the other man’s laugh for months, Jack relishes in that little huff even if it isn’t the bark of a laugh that Jack typically loves to hear from Robby.
They lay there for a little longer, enjoying the mutual silence that is no longer separated by landlines and only connected by phones. Jack knows they have more to talk about, more apologies to be made, progress needed to have, but for now, all Jack wants to do is to continuing hearing Robbys small sighs of content every time Jacks hand rakes his hand through his dark hair.
At some point, Jack lowers his head to be able to see Robby’s eyes. They are still riddled with eye bags and redness from either exhaustion or tears, but what he mostly focused now is how Robby’s eyes are falling close slowly and then he jerks them open again.
“You can rest, Robby,” Jack tells him. “It’s alright, I’m sure Adamson isn’t expecting to see you back in the ED.”
Even after Jack tried to reassure him, he still seems tense and scared to fall asleep. Before he can ask what’s wrong, Robby speaks up in a voice that is laced with tiredness.
“Um, you’ll still be here? Right?” Robby asks. God, he sounds like a little kid, Jack thinks. He sounds so small and insecure, yet Jack doesn’t really know if just promising to be here is enough for Robby.
“Yeah, I’ll be here, Robs,” he tries. Even if Robby still seems tense, he quickly stops fighting his droopy eyes and soon enough they are closed for good as his breath evens out. Before his body goes completely slack, Jack continues. “Then, when you are all rested up, we’ll go home. Together.”
Finally, Jack was home. After grueling months of deployment, while rewarding, he is so happy to be home. He made it through the bus ride to the airport, the plane ride home, and the taxi ride to his apartment without collapsing — shocker.
But he made it. And now he stands right outside his apartment with the door being his only obstacle left.
However, despite the many pleas from a certain brown-haired and brown-eyed man, he had no one waiting at the airport for him. Instead, his partner, his person, is on the other side of that door.
The vast amount of phone calls and letters would never match up to the joys Jack gets from physically being around Robby. Especially given the fact that DADT is in place, making their communications extremely restrictive and secretive.
All he has to do is turn his key into the knob, push the door open, and he’ll most likely find Robby sprawled out on the couch with a textbook lying flat on his chest as he sleeps. For some reason, though, he can’t find it in himself to turn that knob just yet.
He has missed Robby so much. Missed him so much that his heart ached when his nights on base got too quiet, when he didn’t hear small snores from anyone next to him or felt soft hair tickling his neck. He has missed him, truly. However, he worries that Robby, no matter how many reassurances were whispered through phone calls, won’t want to bear the weight of DADT anymore, wanting to be free to be himself.
It’s stupid, he knows that. He typically isn’t the worrier in their relationship. Given the amount of times Robby has needed reassurance that Jack only had eyes for him — I mean how could I not, he’s hot as hell, he thinks — Jack isn’t necessarily labeled as the worrier. He only ever overthinks this aspect of their relationship where Robby will leave him for someone who allows him to fully be him. Logically, he knows that’s not true because time and time again Robby has shown his devotion to their relationship through all their long distance communication. Yet, Jacks brain always nags at him like this, especially when he comes back from deployment.
But his worrying tends to be outweighed by how much he misses Robby.
He thinks, only way but through, right, as he reaches out to the door knob. Before he can actually turn the cold metal, he is interrupted by the door flying open, revealing Robby.
“Sorry!! I may or may not have been peeking when your taxi pulled up, and you just were taking forever to open the door,” Robby quickly explains once he takes in Jacks bewildered face. “I just… I really wanted to see you. I missed you.” He adds, softer.
As for Jack, he barely got any of that. His brain may have short circuited once he fully looked at Robby’s face, because before his deployment, Robby’s face was as clean shaven as it was when he was a baby. Everyone constantly made fun of his baby face as he would blush and beg everyone to stop. But now, well now his face is sporting a thick, brown beard. Fuck he’s hot.
With a huff of a laugh Robby asks “What? you like the beard?” Shit, I said that out loud didn’t I, Jack thinks.
He is still somewhat stuck in a daze because currently Robby is standing in the doorway, in his old gray sweatpants, Jacks long sleeve black tee, hair all rumpled, glasses perched on his nose, as he scratches at his beard. And to Jack, well, he just looks divine.
Once another beat passes where Jack is still stuck staring, Robby starts to open his mouth but before he can say anything Jack is rushing towards him, crowding his space, and smashing his lips against his.
He backs Robby up into their apartment, slamming the door behind them, and shoving Robby into the wall.
With a groan coming from Robby, his hand follows and slowly pushes Jack away. Jack will never admit it, but he did in fact pout.
“What’s up with you?” Robby asks with a small laugh.
“Just missed you is all,” Jack replies which comes out barely coherent as he shoves his face into Robby’s neck and starts leaving soft kisses anywhere he can reach. “And that beard..” Jack trails.
“Yeah, rotations made me go a little crazy and I never found time to fully shave it,” Robby explains. “I know it’s a big difference, I can change-“
“No!” Jack interrupts. “No, no.. I, um, I like it. A lot.”
“Alright then, it’s settled,” Robby says with a grin as he pulls Jack into another kiss, grabbing his hips with a tight grip as Jack sighs and starts back pedaling to their bedroom. “The beard isn’t going anywhere.”
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