“That cat is evil,” Jack argues as he watches the cat crawl away from him and right into Robby’s lap, purring and rubbing his head against Robby’s hand through it all. “I’ve decided.”
Two months after the two of them moved in together, Robby was on the way home from work and spotted a cat meowing loudly and clawing at the walls of the alley it was in. Naturally, Robby slowly walked up the cat, and immediately the cat melted up against Robby. The next thing Jack was aware of was Robby coming into their house with a cat tucked into his jacket.
Jack quickly lost the argument on whether or not to keep the cat due to Robby pulling out his puppy eyes as he held a sweet looking orange tabby cat in his arms.
Robby’s eyes were always his weakness, and he told him so, shaming him for using a move so low to win. Yet, two days later, they were taking their new roommate to the local vet.
Obviously, the most prominent thing brought up during the visit was the fact that Toby, the name Robby said he felt “drawn to,” was missing a leg. Luckily, the vet didn’t find any signs of an infection or any reason to be worried about the amputation. Jack also thanked a god he doesn’t fully believe in when Toby miraculously didn’t have any fleas or alarming diseases.
So, they took him home. Well, Robby took him home. The cat hadn’t exactly warmed up to Jack yet. At first, he was letting Toby come to him. Toby never came. He always climbed right over Jack, almost as if he is taunting him, and settles right up against Robby. All nice and cozy.
“You’re just mad he likes me more,” Robby replies with a snort, turning his head to look at a pouty Jack. “You just can’t rush it, you know?”
“It’s been four months, Mikey, I haven’t been rushing it,” Jack replies in an unamused voice.
“In the first month you literally took off your prosthetic and tried to force him to watch you,” Robby says back, trying to hid a giggle at the memory. “What was the goal? Tell him you are one of the same?”
“Yes. Obviously.”
With that, Robby barks out a laugh, and Toby doesn’t even startle on Robby’s chest. God, Jack thinks. What a manipulator. Won’t even acknowledge me.
“Well, you gotta bond somehow,” Robby says after his laughter has quieted down. “I’m going to that conference for a couple days tomorrow, and you’ll be all along with Toby, forced to bond with him.”
“Can’t you just bring him with you?” Jack asks with an overemphasized groan. All Robby does in response is a roll of his eyes.
***
Robby has been gone for two days, but the cat hadn’t been spotted since besides for breakfast and dinner. Jack truly doesn’t know what he did wrong. Toby adores Robby. Jack adores Robby. This is common ground, so what’s the deal?
He doesn’t tend to wait around and find out and opts for letting the cat wander around the house.
Robby is coming home tonight anyway. Maybe Jack can lie and say Toby and him bonded the entire time Robby was away.
He won’t fall for that, Jack thinks. And if he does, then he’s going to ask for photos…
He puts dinner out for the cat and hopes for the best. In reality, though, he’s preparing for the worst where Toby won’t even look his way.
He hears the familiar jingling sound of Toby’s bell as he walks across the kitchen to his food bowl. He hears faint eating sounds from the cat as he is sprawled out onto the couch.
He’s absentmindedly scrolling on the TV, looking for anything to keep him entertained for the next couple hours as he waits for Robby to get home. Currently, Jack is wearing one of Robby’s favorite hoodies that he didn’t pack. He missed him okay? The smell has always helped with brining Jack comfort, and the fact that the shoulders are a bit broader and the end of it hangs a bit lower on his waist is always a plus.
Eventually, Jack hears the small licks stop as paws make their way over to the family room. Toby finds his way over and sits right in Jacks eye-line as he is stretched out on the couch. Toby remains perched on the coffee table.
“Robby wanted us to bond,” Jack says, no matter how much Robby makes fun of him for talking to Toby in a straight voice. “And look at us. Not bonding.”
Obviously, the cat doesn’t reply. Yet, Jack doesn’t feel silly for it and instead continues to stare at the cat as it moves towards the couch.
The couch is low enough for Toby to jump on even with the missing leg, but most of the time Robby is here to pick him up. Jack is terrified to pick him up, scared that that will be the last starve and will break and truce the two of them have going on right now.
Toby makes it up, scrambling his way up against the back cushions. However, the cat quickly turns his head and starts stalking towards Jack.
Oh my god, is all that comes to Jacks mind.
Slowly but surely, Toby finds his way up Jacks shoulder, his head never straying far from its bowed position right above Jacks chest. Then, as if it was a miracle, Toby lays right on top of Jacks chest, a pressure Jack realizes quickly why Robby enjoy it’s so much.
Oh my god, it’s actually happening.
As Toby rubs his head against the hoodie and starts to knead his one front paw into Jacks chest, he realizes with a certain clarity that Toby isn’t doing this because he enjoys Jacks attention, but because the hoodie smells like Robby, a smell the cat is well accustomed to.
Hey, Jack thinks as his eyes start to droop close with the steady weight of the cat above him. I’ll take it.
***
Two hours later, Robby walks in with his suit aye in tow, ready to see Jack and Toby again.
Instead, the image that he first sees is his boyfriend in his hoodie. That sap, he thinks. And, against all odds, his cat laying perfectly on Jacks chest, periodically brushing Jack with his fur.
He snaps a photo without even realizing it, and it becomes his lock screen photo on his until he changes it out for a photo of Jack on their wedding day.
Sometimes, very rarely, Robby wishes that the days at PTMC got busier. Even with the headaches that seem chronic, the back pain that is a forever ache, and the caffeine addiction that seems to be progressing, sometimes all Robby wants is a major trauma to come through those doors.
He knows, logically, that he shouldn’t wish for harm on others just so the buzz in his head will become more of a hum. Often, he wonders if he is alone in that wish. He notices the way Dana starts to tap her foot when the ED becomes quiet, a word that he would be yelled at for even thinking. He notices the same energy in Jack as he starts fidgeting with his hands. Everyone has their tells. Robby’s is that he circles the ED, hoping that maybe he missed a bed that needed checking up on.
Yet, all the beds are checked. The interns and residents are peacefully working on charts or finishing up with the latest suture. Robby is the only attending on shift, and he keeps checking the clock, wanting the next 13 minutes to pass so it’s 7 p.m. and he’ll be able to see Jack again.
He often finds himself thinking of Jack during these slow moments. His mind is on the edge between hoping for more chaos within his ED to hoping the slow stays steady so Jack will have an easy night. He always likes the way Jack tries to hide a faint smile when he sees a clear board during handoff.
He remembers the specific time when he had the day off after leaving Jack with a clear board. He remembers the way Jack crawled into their shared bed, thought Robby was asleep, and cuddled up next to him.
“Thank you for the board tonight,” he remembers Jack whispering, believing the other man won’t hear him. “My leg has been bothering me. You knew that though, didn’t you? Thank you. I love you.”
Robby remembers how he had to suppress a sigh of relief as Jack latched onto his back, how he had to hold himself back from turning around and facing Jack. In that moment, he would have given anything to say those three words back, but he knew Jack wouldn’t have said any of that if it weren’t for silence their bedroom brought or the darkness their curtains produced. He saw Robby’s steady breaths as a gateway to whisper those words, and Robby wasn’t going to ruin moment by revealing his open eyes.
As he makes his rounds, hoping it will be the last one of the night if no more traumas come it, he lets his small smile due to the memory stay on his face, not caring who is to see it. Him and Jack made their relationship public knowledge just a couple weeks ago. Robby’s plan was to sprinkle in mentions of it to their colleagues while Jack decided he wasn’t going to play the long game and just called Robby babe during hand oof. Sure enough, the minute Princess heard that, the rest of the ED knew in 20 minutes.
The HR paperwork was hell, but it was nice that the both of them didn’t have to act like they enjoyed each others company only in a brotherly manner anymore. Sure, they couldn’t do much besides hug during handoff because the both of them are weird about PDA, but Robby relishes in the fact that he doesn’t have to hide his smile anymore.
He is about to enter the last room to check up on a patient when the gurney gets rolled in. It’s a runaway behavioral health unit patient that escaped earlier due to paranoia.
It was 6:52 when the patient came in. Jack will be walking in any minute to meet Robby for handoff.
It was 6:52 when the patient came in. He was thrashing on the gurney and screaming in agony? Paranoia?
It was 6:52 when the patient came in. Robby didn’t hesitate to rush over and try to treat the man or calm him down, whichever needed to come first.
“He needs to calm down!” One of the paramedics yells. They aren’t able to get the restraints on.
Robby goes through the motions. Their ER faces enough of patients who resist treatment that he doesn’t even blink. He slips into doctor mode. Clinical, fast, precise with no hesitation.
They take the patient to trauma 1, nurses in tow prepping IVs.
The patient, who has been identified as John Summers, is containing his thrashing as he screams.
“GET OFF ME!” He scream, no longer just screaming. “OFF! GET OFF!”
Those three words become the man’s mantra. Perlah tries to calm the man down, hoping that he’ll listen. He doesn’t. No one is able to get the restraints on him and Robby is struggling to check his bleeding head out.
“Sir-“ Robby starts, he is cut off the second Perlah officially tries to get the IV in. The main shoots his arm up, narraowly avoiding Perlah but instead hits Robby right on his nose with enough force to make him stumble back. He doesn’t fall, and he tries to gain his composure back, ignoring the way he can feel blood trickling down.
Before he can say anything more, John twists his arm out of the hold a nurse had on him, turns his body on the bed, and jumps out, coming towards Robby.
Thank god Perlah got out of the way, he thinks before a dull pain makes his way to his chest. He realizes quick enough that John pushed him, if the crack that pulses through his wrist as he tries to break his fall tells him anything.
It didn’t work.
His wrist slips and he ends up with the back of his head banging on the floor. John soon follows.
He faintly hears someone, he doesn’t know who, yell for security. The next thing his mind processes is the grip of hands around his neck and the lack of air he is getting.
Then, another bang in the back of his head.
At that point, no sound fully process. He hears people screaming. Yet, all he can process is the feel of the sick texture of blood below his nose, the throbbing pain on his head, and the tightness around his throat.
Almost as soon as all of the pain began, it all stops. John gets pried off of him by a security guard. There’s still chaos around him, but all he cares about is sucking in air as fast as he can. He coughs and gasps, but the feeling of oxygen make his way down into his lungs feels almost like a privilege at that point.
He feels his head gets slightly picked up, and he soon feels cold hands checking the back of his head. He knows someone who has cold hands, he’s been held by them before, but the fog in his brain is too powerful for him to understand that.
A light is shined on his eyes and someone is asking questions at a rapid pace. The answers leave his mouth before he knows it. They must have been right, however, given the sigh of relief he hears.
The fog clears a bit as he is slowly picked up and brought to get a CT scan. He still doesn’t really answer any questions, now only focusing on the pain the man’s hands left behind.
“It’s only a concussion,” he hears someone say eventually.
“Yeah, only a concussion,” he hears a man reply in an exhausted and irritated tone. He forces himself to pick his head up regardless of the pain it shoots down his neck, just to see who that was. He knows that voice, he knows he knows that voice.
It’s Jack, his brain supplies. And, soon after, fuck, he probably saw all of that, didn’t he?
He knows Jack is going to freak out. He know the way he is wired. He lost too many people from the army, his parents, his wife, to not react like that.
I need to be fine, he thinks. I need to make it fine.
“Woah woah Mikey, lay down,” Jack says, slightly pushing Robby shoulder. “You were just attacked, you have to lay down, Mike.”
“No, I’m fine, it’s fine,” Robby counters, no matter how weak his voice sounds.
He sees Jack give Dana a look and she quietly exits the room. Jack then pulls a chair up next to the bed, all the while Robby tries to push his way off the bed.
“Robby, sit down.. come on,” Jack tries weakly. Robby continues to try and get up and say that he fine no matter how much his head throbs and the cast on his wrist digs into his skin.
“Michael.” Jack sternly says, looking straight into Robby’s eyes. He notices the way Jacks eyes are red and his hair looks like someone has been running their hands furiously through it. Before he knows it, Robby is laying back down.
“I’m fine, Jack, I’ll be fine,” Robby says, even as he lays back down into the bed.
“Robby. You have a severe concussion, a broken wrist, and bruising around your neck,” Jack lists. “You are not just leaving.”
“Is he gone?” Robby asks, hoping the fear that flashes over his face was masked fast enough. It wasn’t, given the way Jacks stern look softens ever so slightly.
“Yes, he was sedated,” Jack says.
“Then I’ll be fine.”
“Michael,” Jack starts, and he knows he’s is in trouble as his full first name is said. Jack takes Robby’s hand in his and lowers his head ever so slightly so Robby can’t escape his gaze. “Listen to me when I say this. I walked in and the first thing I hear is a wave of yelling and the first thing I saw was people leaving the trauma one room. You know what I saw the minute I turned the corner? You, on the floor, with hands around your neck and your head getting banged on the ground.
No- no it’s not your fault, okay? I’m not saying that. But right now, I need you to understand me when I say that I don’t ever want to see that again. And I know… I know I have no say in that pretty much, but right now- you can’t.. fuck Mikey you can’t just leave after having gone through that. Please, I know you don’t want to be here, but please just stay, I… I want you- I need you to stay, just for overnight observation. Please Mike, please.”
His voice starts to break and he stutters more and more by the end of it. He is begging Robby to stay as tears start filling up in his eyes. Robby squeezes his hand back as he accepts the fact that his weakness will always be Jack. The man is pleading for him to stay, and Robby can’t even imagine a world where he says no.
“Yeah… okay, um, I’ll stay,” Robby says.
Jack bows his head into their conjoined hands and lets out a sigh of relief and then a small laugh that hold no real humor behind it. They share the space in silence besides their sniffles and Jacks small cry.
The silence is broken eventually, not be any monitors beeping or another plead, but instead by Robby.
“You know what I was thinking before the patient got rolled in?” He asks. Once Jack, who is now resting his chin on their hands, staring up at Robby, shakes his head no with a faint smile, he continues. “You… I was thinking about how I couldn’t wait until handoff just so I could see you again.”
“You’re such a sap,” Jack manages to get out mid giggle. Robby playfully take his hand out of Jacks and shoves him slightly, making Jack rest his back on the chair. “I love you.” Jack adds as he entangles their hands again and rubs his thumb over the back of Robby’s hand.
“I love you too,” Robby replies, and he would say it a thousand more times in this lifetime just to see the way Jack lights up and bears all his teeth in a smile.
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.
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