Per their therapists, they both needed to get a hobby. Jack's therapist had said that he needed one to replace the TEMs shifts, and Robby's therapist had said he just needed hobbies, plain and simple.
"I have hobbies," Robby whined, flopping back on Jack's couch with all the dramatics the situation deserved. "I hike and I watch sports with you. Those are hobbies! One's even an outside hobby. Why do I need more?"
"It's bullshit," Jack agreed, handing him a beer. "One's social, one's active. I made the same argument to my therapist and he just said that I needed a hobby with less gunfire and mortal peril."
"Can I just quit therapy?" Robby asked, settling further into Jack's side. "I gave it a fair go, but it's obviously not working out."
And okay, Jack wasn't about to let that happen. It was time to bring out the big guns. "We could do it together. That way we both get a good grade in therapy."
"Et tu, Brute?" Robby put a hand to his heart, shocked by this great betrayal. "I thought you at least would be on my side."
"I am on your side. And my side. If we both have to be miserable, we might as well be miserable together." Jack's logic was sound. And if he got to spend even more time with Robby... well, it was justified. It was therapist-mandated, in fact.
And that was how, one week later, they ended up at a rock climbing gym.
Jack was not a stupid man. He had prepared: he read the website, read every line of the waiver, and got a doctors note. (If the note was signed by one M. Robinavitch M.D., that was between him and his doctor.) So he was quite annoyed when the teenager at the front desk took one look at his prosthesis and said "Sorry, man. I can't let you climb; it's a liability."
"I have a doctor's note," he pointed out, handing it over. When that didn't work- "I signed the waiver."
"I get that, but that waiver wouldn't hold up in court."
Jack's eye twitched.
Robby had to shuffle them out of there real quick before steam started coming out of his ears. He had a whole rant scripted and everything. So rock climbing was a bust.
Jack's next big idea was a baking class. He knew how to cook and he liked to eat baked goods; surely, this was going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
It was not. Half-way through their first class, Jack forgot about the whipping cream he had going in the mixer and by the time he remembered it, it had transformed into extremely sweet butter. Robby, with his perfect whipped cream, had taken one look at the contents of Jack's mixing bowl and started to laugh.
Jack wasn't about to take that lying down, so he reached into his bowl, scooped out the butter, and smashed some into Robby's face with all the passion of a groom who found out that his new wife had cheated with a groomsman minutes before the cake cutting.
Robby let out a noise that could only be described as a squawk and immediately moved to retaliate: he stole some of Jack's butter and rallied his own attack. By the time the teacher got to them, all hell had broken loose. At some point, Robby had decided to sacrifice his own whipped cream to the cause, and the talent disparity within their creations was very apparent in the sheer amount of beautifully fluffy whipped topping in Jack's hair.
Outside of the baking studio, Jack received the teacher's ire with a battle-honed stoicism, while Robby was trembling with the force of his suppressed laughter. Jack agreed that yes, it would be for the best if they never returned, absolutely, he would pay extra for the cleaner, and yes, they understood why their actions were unacceptable. Next to him, Robby was turning a delightful shade of puce from how much effort he was putting into his appropriately contrite expression.
The second she walked away, they both burst into great, gasping laughter, bent over at the waist.
"Hey," Robby said, when they had both (mostly) gotten it under control. "You have a little..." With that, he pounced, really rubbing the whipped cream into Jack's curls.
Jack responded in kind, scooping the butter from Robby's shirt and smearing it over as much of his face as he could manage while they both tried to knock the other's hands away. This scuffle in the streets lasted until the curious glances of the onlookers turned into increasingly concerned stares. Without a word, they decided to beat a swift retreat.
Okay, baking was a no-go. They decided to try pottery next.
Pottery didn't turn out because Robby had set the speed on the wheel too high, sending his vase flying. When Jack doubled over in laughter, he accidentally smashed his vase in turn.
Next, Jack signed them up for craft club at the library. He pictured a knitting group, run by sweet old ladies. Instead, they were doing tie-die.
"I feel like I'm at summer camp," Jack grumbled, dunking his shirt.
"Maybe it's all the 8-year-olds around," Robby quipped.
That got Jack's attention. With an increasing sense of horror, he looked around the room and realized that it was all 8-year-olds. They were the oldest people in the group, by a margin of 40 years.
"The website said all ages!" He defended.
"All ages of kid, probably."
Deciding it would be more weird if they left, they kept their heads down and dyed their ties. Of course Jack's shirt looked like someone had taken a bad acid trip in a downpour, while Robby's looked incredible. It was beautifully done: the colors a perfect compliment, the pattern flawless. It practically looked professional.
And because Robby was an asshole who loved to rub his triumphs in Jack's face, he wore it constantly.
Next up, they decided to try card night at a game shop. Except when they walked in, it became immediately apparent that they were thinking of the wrong kind of cards.
Jack thought it might be a fun poker night, maybe they'd learn to play gin rummy or canasta or something. Instead, the room was filled with what seemed to be a deeply tense game of Magic: the Gathering.
"You know," Jack said, trying to save it. "I played Dungeons and Dragons in college. It was pretty fun."
"If you're honestly about to suggest that I play a roleplaying game, I will kill you." Robby huffed.
"No roleplay?" Jack let out a heartbroken sigh. "I guess you'll never get to see me as a flight attendant, then."
Robby smacked the back of his head.
Robby picked the next hobby because obviously, Jack could not be trusted. He found a crochet class for beginners held at a local yarn shop. It was everything Jack had thought craft club would be, with a reassuring lack of children.
Jack thought crochet wouldn't be too bad- after all, everyone said how easy it was. It was not easy. Not at all.
He looked on in open hostility when Robby turned out perfect granny square after perfect granny square, while Jack's creation looked less like a granny square and more like someone had tried to make a doily in a pitch-black room, using only their thumbs, after having the concept described to them.
Robby had a masterpiece. Jack had a tangle of yarn with aspirations.
Of course, the instructor just had to rub it in.
"These are amazing!" She exclaimed, looking over Robby's work. "You've never crocheted before?"
"Never!" He grinned, the absolute suck-up. "It's not that hard."
Jack knew a pointed jab when he heard one. He stuck his tongue out at Robby behind her back.
"You must have magic fingers," she said before moving on, causing Jack to laugh so hard he stabbed himself with his crochet hook.
"Oooh, Dr. Robinavitch, can I get a demonstration of your magic fingers?" He purred, batting his eyelashes.
"I'm going to shove my magic fingers up your ass," Robby threatened.
Jack would love that, actually. "Don't threaten me with a good time," he quipped.
Robby flipped him off.
Jack was never going to let him live that down. Found an airway when everyone wanted to intubate? "Look at those magic fingers go." Dropped something? "Magic fingers not working too well, huh?" During a tense procedure, he just muttered, "Magic," while wiggling his fingers back and forth.
None of their coworkers asked. It was just another one of the many esoteric jokes the two of them shared.
Their next outing was to a Paint and Sip class at a cafe. There was going to be alcohol and Robby had promised him it was going to be easy- that they were aimed towards beginners and all you had to do was follow the instructor.
Jack was great at following orders- after all, he had been in the military for seven years. However. It seemed he was not good at painting.
"How are you this bad at everything?" Robby snickered, taking in Jack's canvas. "You're one of the best doctors I know."
"One of?" Jack asked, already offended.
"After myself, of course."
Jack glared at him and before Robby could react, he leant over and painted big red slashes all over Robby's canvas.
Suffice to say, they got kicked out of Paint and Sip too.
On the way home, Jack threw his painting in the first trash can he came across, but Robby hung his up in a place of pride on his living room wall. He was such a fucking asshole.
Deciding that Jack needed a win, Robby let him pick the next activity.
"We should try fencing," Jack declared at hand-off.
"I am not spending my precious spare time rebuilding your fence." Robby was already exhausted from the all the hobby-finding, he wasn't going to give Jack free labor on top of it.
"No, like with swords," he explained, miming stabbing Robby in the stomach. "Legally approved violence. Haven't you ever wanted to stab me?"
"Only every day for the past 30 years," Robby grumbled. He was not a sporty man. However, he did feel a little bad for all the misadventures recently, so he agreed- albeit, with much complaining.
It turned out, they don't just give you foils- not swords- when you walk through the door. You have to earn your foil by learning footwork first. Robby should have realized that telling Jack, the most competitive person he had ever met, that you needed to prove your worth would spell disaster.
Jack became obsessed; he was going to get his foil come hell or high water, and he was going to drag Robby along with him. They spent weeks doing the same drills over and over, doing lunges until Robby's thighs ached, but it was almost worth it for the way Jack's face lit up when the instructor handed them their practice blades.
Almost, because now, instead of watching a nice football game in their downtime, Jack made him stand in the backyard in 90 degree heat wearing their heavy fucking fencing jackets, practicing. Robby regretted ever meeting him, ever going to therapy, ever being born.
Eventually, they got their electric foils and electric vests and were set loose in the class to actually fight. If Robby thought that maybe he would get a break now that Jack had other kids to play with, he was dead wrong. Jack wanted to win.
Twice a week, they attended lessons for an hour, followed by another hour of matches, where Robby sweated buckets in his stupid jacket and stupid mask and got stupid bruises all over his thighs from blows that glanced off of his chest.
Jack however, was thriving. It was unfair, actually, how good Jack looked in his get-up; he even insisted on buying fencing knickers, to Robby's great consternation. The first time he saw Jack in his stupid breeches with the suspenders, he had to do a deep breathing exercise lest he pop a boner in the middle of class.
While Robby looked like a steamed lobster post-bout, Jack looked like he had just climbed out of a magazine. Soaked in sweat, curls a little smushed from the mask, he was still the most beautiful thing Robby had ever seen. Torture. It was sheer, utter torture.
The torture was somehow worth it for the way Jack crowed with delight the first time he won a bout and then immediately came over to ruffle Robby's hair.
"Do you want to get a beer after this?" Jack asked as they left the fencing studio. Thankfully, he had taken the suspenders off of his shoulders, though they still looked unfairly good, hanging around his thighs.
"We smell disgusting," Robby pointed out. Fencing was not like going to the gym, you really sweated an obscene amount in those jackets. "We'd likely get kicked out of any bar right now."
"We wouldn't get kicked out of Danny's," Jack wheedled, bumping his bag against Robby's.
Robby shuddered. "You are not dragging me to that health hazard disguised as a bar. Pretty sure I got typhus last time you took me there."
"Okay," Jack dragged the word out. "Then we could go to my house."
That sounded much more appealing. "I'll need to shower when we get there," Robby said. He really was disgusting.
"Wanna share?" Jack asked casually, not even breaking his stride.
"I- uh- well, yes?" Robby stuttered. Not his most eloquent moment, but it wasn't every day your best friend of 30 years asked you to shower with him.
He waited for Jack to take it back, to say that he had just been kidding and of course, he would never actually want to shower with Robby, but he didn't. Instead, Jack slung his arm around Robby's waist and kissed his shoulder.
Okay, maybe- just maybe- their therapists had the right idea about this whole hobby business.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: The Pitt (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Jack Abbot/Michael âRobbyâ Robinavitch, Jack Abbot/Jack Abbotâs Wife (The Pitt)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Michael âRobbyâ Robinavitch Needs Therapy, Michael âRobbyâ Robinavitch Needs a Hug, Jack Abbot is Down Bad (The Pitt), Second Chances, Ghosts, Michael âRobbyâ Robinavitch Adopts Baby Jane Doe (The Pitt Season 2), Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jackâs wife haunts the narrative
Series: Part 5 of The Pitt AUgust
Summary:
The worst happens and Jack canât deal. Luckily with some ghostly intervention in the form of Jackâs wife a second chance is given. Jack wonât waste the second chance, heâs going to save his man and make sure administration knows how important Robby is in the process.
Combination of Day 8 Ghosts and Day 13 Time Travel.
Otherwise known as Jackâs wife haunts the narrative but sheâs smarter than the two idiots and smacks Jack on the head. Itâs all Jack needs to stop being stupid. Robby just wants a hug and to keep holding Baby Jane.Â
Robby comes home one day to a VHS player of all things hooked up to the living room TV.
âPretty sure most people have moved on to DVDs.â
âMost people,â Jack smirks. He pulls a tape out from behind his back. âBut not us.â
Oh, Christ. Itâs been decades since Robby has seen that. Depending on which one it is the contents could span anywhere between âsoft coreâ and âtwink gets railed to the point of crying and is left covered in cum and shaking for two days.â
âThat⌠could be dangerous.â
Jackâs grin grows. âCould be fun.â
âDo you know which one it is?â
âNope. Donât worry, if thereâs a specific one you want, I found the whole bin.â
Robby drags a hand across his face. âExcellent.â
âOh, come on. Little trip down memory lane?â
âYouâre aware I donât look like I did then, right?â
Jack wraps his hands around Robbyâs waist and kisses the underside of his jaw, nuzzling his nose into his beard. âThank God. What do I want with some college kid, do I look like a pervert or something?â
Thatâs enough to get a laugh out of Robby, which only eggs Jack on.
âThose youngins had some good ideas though from what I remember.â
Robby sucks his teeth. They did have good ideas, heâs not sure how well his 50 year old bones can withstand some of those positions, but itâd be a shame not to try⌠âLet me get cleaned up.â
âYes!â Jack pumps his fist, heâs still Robbyâs favorite dumb jock at heart, and beams. âThis is gonna be great.â
They're standing close, Jack's hand on Robby's shoulder, almost where it meets his neck. They're talking about nothing, voices low, Jack's thumb slowly strokes back and forth, just once. Robby smiles at something he says, that real smile that makes his crows feet sink deep.
"When's the honeymoon?" Dana asks, suddenly the real world crashes in and Robby steps back.
Jack grins, bright as the sun, always ready to play. "Next week. Two weeks in Bali, just me and lover boy over here."
Robby snorts. "Bali? I specifically requested somewhere with no sand." Jack's the one who hates sand, but he can pretend. He can play. Jack so loves to play, to tease, to drive Robby insane.
"Sand's everywhere, sweetheart," Jack tells him. The pet name warms him, even in jest.
"It certainly will be after a two week beach honeymoon," Robby shudders, horrified at the very thought.
"Okay enough, enough," Dana groans. "Patients. People dying. Stop flirting and work, for the love of god."
"Okay, I thought about it." Jack appears beside him in that almost spooky way he does. "One of those honeymoon resorts in the Poconos."
"Didn't they condemn them all?"
"Looked it up. Couple of them are still around- one has a champagne hot tub."
Robby looks at him like he'd just suggested taking a nice, intimate swim with a brain eating amoeba "Keep this up and youâre getting divorced before we even make it on the honeymoon."
"Okay, I really thought about it this time." Jack says, coming around to stand in front of his computer.
"Oh god," Robby moans, not even looking up from his charting.
"No, listen. This is great. Ireland." Jack waves his hand, like he's presenting a prize on a game show. "Thereâs a painting- Hellelil and Hildebrand, the Meeting on the Turret Stairs. Only shown twice a week for an hour."
Robby actually looks up, because this one isn't a joke. "Why Ireland? Why that painting?"
"You love stories about knights and fair maidens."
"How do you know that?" Robby asks, actually shocked. How did Jack know that? The contents of Robby's reading life are between him and his Kindle. The books in his house are respectable reads, things people would expect him to have. And he does like those books, but a man must have simple pleasures to keep the horrors at bay.
"I know everything about you," Jack says. "I'm in your head." To bring the point home, he flicks Robby between the eyes. Robby bats him away, and they lose a moment to a slap fight.
"Anyway, we could see the painting. I have an in to see the Anatomy Museum at Trinity College so we can tour their collection and their archives. Then we could go out to the country- see some of your family. You know, the woolly kind."
"What?" Robby is not following at all.
"Youâre sheepish."
Robby just glares at him. He's about to chock this up as just an extended path for a pun, but Jack put actual thought into this. A lot of thought, it seems. "You know we'd have to get married first. Before we could go on a honeymoon."
"Okay, let's do it." Jack shrugs, like Robby had just suggested Thai over Indian for take-out night.
"Youâre being funny," Robby says, voice flat as he returned to his charting. He did not find this funny at all, thank you very much.
"I'm always funny-"
"Funny looking," Robby grumbles, force of habit.
"-and anyways, it's not such a bad idea." Jack finishes, ignoring Robby entirely.
That makes Robby look up. Slowly, he removes his reading glasses. He levels Jack with a Look. "We're not even dating."
"Arenât we, though?" Jack asks, drumming his hands on the counter.
They are... strange. About each other. Too enmeshed. Always circling each other, always at each other's houses. Neither had been on a date in... who knows how long. A two-headed creature, open one's mouth and find the other's lungs. Strange.
"We don't kiss." Robby says flatly, like that was the proof. Because it was. They didn't kiss- Robby would know. He thought about it often enough.
"We could change that." Jack's hands fall still, an intense look in his eyes.
"You actually want to get married," Robby says in astonishment. "To me."
"Who else?" Jack asked. Who else, indeed.
"You want to get married before even taking me on a single date, never having kissed a single time, and you decide the best place to ask me to marry you is at work." Robby's brain is malfunctioning. This has to all be a strange dream.
"And they say romance is dead," Jack sniggers.
Robby throws a pen at him. "I'm not that easy, brother. You'll have to convince me. Wine and dine me first, buy a ring you put actual thought into. Ask me again after having taken me on... 10 dates."
"10?" Jack asks, hand on his heart. "Thatâs just cruel."
"Look at that, it just went up to 20." Robby puts his glasses back on. "20 dates and 20 minutes of uninterrupted peace- starting now- to finish my charting."
"You drive a hard bargain," Jack whistles. "But it's a deal. I will be on your doorstep at seven tomorrow night. Wear something snazzy."
Robby flips him off, something dangerously warm in his chest. He would have settled for five dates. Hell, he would have accepted none. But it was good to make Jack work for it a little. It was animal enrichment.
Summary: Robby finally finds a way to give something back to his community
Characters: Jack Abbot, Michael (Robby) Robinavitch, a little bit of Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker
Robby x Jack (Rabbot)
Part 1 here
--- --- ---
Robby stood on the sidewalk beside Jack, wearing jeans and a white shirt, every movement of his arms accompanied by the rattle of the countless colorful bracelets hanging there. He wore sunglasses and had a handful of rainbow-colored tattoos scattered across his arms and cheeks. He was smiling while he held up a sign:
FREE DAD HUGS
The font was rainbow-colored and a glittery heart sat in the corner.
Jack, who was holding the same sign, glanced at him. He was wearing the same outfit as last year - white tank top, his trusted pair of camo pants and the rainbow bandana tied around his waist. âNever change a running systemâ as he claimed.
He was happy that Robby stood there, finally feeling like he was part of the community, finally able to give something back. Because the signs had been Robbyâs idea.
Kind of, at least.
He hadnât said it with words. But a couple of months ago Robby had started sending Jack videos, mostly without context, mostly just accompanied with emojis.
A man standing at Pride in Sydney, giving out over seven hundred hugs to kids that had been rejected by their parents for their sexuality.
A father holding a cardboard sign and hugging a young man who was crying so hard he could barely stand.
A video about the âFree Dad Hugsâ movement.
Robby had never actually said what he thought about any of it - he had simply sent the videos. Once he commented one with âThis is nice.â Once at two in the morning, when Jack was on night shift, with âPeople should do more of this.â
Jack had noticed what he was trying to tell him. So now Robby was standing in the middle of Pittsburgh Pride holding a sign he had apparently wanted badly enough to spend months pretending he hadnât.
Jack smiled, his hand touching Robbyâs arm for a second. âYou happy?â
Robby shrugged. âIâm doing this for you.â
âBullshit.â Jack laughed. âYou sent me approximately eighty videos of people doing this.â
âI have no idea what youâre talking aboutâ he replied, adjusting his sunglasses. He paused, then- âBut no one seems to want to have a free hug. Maybe they can smell weâre not dads.â
Jack laughed softly and bumped his shoulder against Robbyâs. âGive them time.â
Robby nodded, even when he felt nervous. He was scared that no one would want a hug from him. Maybe the younger generation today didnât need reassurance from strangers. Maybe theyâd laugh at the sign. Maybe theyâd think that he was a creep and the whole idea was stupid.
A young man - maybe nineteen or twenty - approached him a couple of minutes later. He was wearing a rainbow bandana around his neck and slowed down when he saw the signs, glancing first at Jack then at Robby. âYou guys are offering hugs?â
Jack smiled. âAbsolutely.â
The young man laughed nervously, his whole expression changing. âUm⌠can I?â
Robby opened his arms, a smile spreading across his face. The young man stepped into his arms and hugged him. Robby hugged him tightly back.
For a moment he didnât say anything, then- âWhatâs your name, kid?â
âCarter.â The answer was almost shy and he didnât let go.
âIâm proud of you, Carterâ Robby said simply, his heart racing, hoping and praying he wouldnât fuck this up.
There had been a time when he could have used a hug like this himself - and if he was absolutely honest with himself he still needed them.
The young man didnât answer but when he finally pulled away his eyes were wet. âThanks.â
Jack watched him, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. He stepped closer to Robby and pulled him into a kiss. Robby gasped in surprise but melted into it instantly.
âIâm so damn proud of you, Michaelâ he whispered, giving him a gentle smack on the cheek before stepping back, holding up the sign again.
And with that - more people came. Some asked shyly, some approached laughing. Some simply pointed at the sign and held their arms out.
Robby hugged them all, taking his time with every single one of them. He never quite knew what to say afterward, so usually he settled for asking about their names or a simple âHappy Prideâ or âTake careâ or âIâm proud of youâ.
It seemed to be enough.
He had just hugged a tiny woman named Suzanna, who had told him about her family rejecting her for coming out, when he heard a familiar voice cutting through the noise. âThat canât be!â
Robby gave Suzanna, who was already turning to leave, a little wave then turned.
Trinity Santos stood a few feet away, wearing denim shorts and a top with bold lettering across the front: I DONâT DO ARTS & CRAFTS BUT I STILL SCISSOR.
She had rainbow sunglasses perched on her nose and temporary rainbow tattoos covering her arms and legs, sporting a half-smile. She looked at Robbyâs sign, then at Jack and back to Robby. âThat sign should say Free Dad Jokes given your history with them.â
Robby blushed - it wasnât that he was embarrassed to be seen here, but he hadnât taken into account that some of his residents would walk around here.
He looked over to Jack like he could rescue him, but Jack was just laughing. âI agree, but we wanted to make people smile not make them run away.â
She grinned, then stepped closer, her sunglasses slipping slightly down her nose as she looked him over. âNever thought Iâd see the day on which Dr. Robby offers emotional support.â
Robby made a face. âI usually donât. But itâs Pride.â
âDamn right.â She nodded, then paused. âI also didnât know you two were dads.â She gestured toward the sign.
Jack shrugged. âWe have involuntarily adopted like twenty residents behaving like toddlers half the time. That absolutely qualifies us as dads.â
âMore likely as ringmastersâ Robby huffed.
Trinity nodded slowly. âYeah, well, fair. You also got Huckleberry house-trained, soâŚâ
âHey!â Dennis, who was standing behind her, wearing black jeans with a matching black denim jacket over a fitted black tank top, topped with a silver chain around his neck and a couple of silver earrings. âThatâs not funny!â
âIt isâ Trinity replied with a shrug. âItâs actually hilarious.â
Jack grinned. âSo, you guys want a hug?â
Dennis and Trinity exchanged a look. âNah, weâre fine. Would be weird, actually, with you guys being our bosses and shitâ she said with a shrug. âBut itâs pretty cool youâre doing that.â
Dennis nodded quickly. âItâs great.â
âWe need to go now. I need something to drink and Huckleberry needs to go potty.â Trinity grinned.
He blushed. âSheâs just jokingâ he said hastily.
Jack smiled. âYeah, we figured.â
âSee you on Monday, bosses.â Trinity waved her hand, then took Dennisâs hand and dragged him along.
Robby and Jack watched them disappear into the crowd, shaking their heads.
âItâs like watching a trainwreckâ Jack said.
âBut a very entertaining oneâ Robby added, dryly.
Jack looked at him. âYou okay?â
Robby nodded. âYeah.â
That earned him a clap on the shoulder. âGood.â
They held up the signs again - not a minute later a group of teenagers was approaching. âCan we get hugs?â
âYeah, sure. Thatâs what weâre here for.â
Robby smiled and opened his arms. âCome here, kids.â
When the first one hugged him he closed his eyes for a moment. People really should do this more often.
Summary: Fifty years after thinking he was straight Robby attends his first Pride with Jack.
Characters: Jack Abbot, Michael (Robby) Robinavitch.
Robby x Jack (Rabbot)
--- --- ---
The first June weekend in Pittsburgh arrived with a thick humid heat that clung to the skin but the air downtown was electric with a different kind of energy. Rainbow flags in every conceivable size and shade hung from storefronts and apartment windows. The city was a riot of color and sound, a vibrant pulsating heartbeat of celebration and defiance.
It was Pride weekend - and for Jack it was as much part of his year as Christmas or his own birthday. For Robby on the other hand it felt like stepping onto another planet. He knew about Pride - of course he knew. You werenât friends with Jack Abbot for twenty-five years and didnât know about it. But he never attended. He usually worked double shifts that weekend so that his staff could attend the festivities if they wanted to.
This time was different.
This time he very much intended to be part of the celebration. Ever since confessing his feelings to Jack shortly after returning from his sabbatical, he knew for sure he wasnât as straight as heâd thought for the last fifty years.
The thought of being bisexual was still a strange one. Not because he was ashamed of it. He wasnât. He loved Jack. That part was easy. The difficult part was wrapping his head around the fact that apparently he had managed to miss a fairly significant detail about himself for more than fifty years.
Robby stood in front of his closet that Sunday morning, a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. What the fuck did one wear to something like this? His wardrobe consisted of scrubs, worn-in jeans, black shirts and hoodies in grey and black. Well and one in a dark shade of green. Nothing seemed right for an occasion like that. And he didnât want to embarrass Jack.
So eventually he settled on a plain black shirt and jeans, feeling utterly and completely underdressed. He walked back into the kitchen, where Jack waited for him, coffee in hand - and looking effortlessly cool and just so very right.
He wore a white tank top that showed off his muscular arms, a pair of camo pants and a rainbow bandana tied around his wrist. He also wore a hell of a lot bracelets in every color imaginable and some colorful temporary tattoos on his cheek and his arms.
âReady to go, hot stuff?â
Jack looked Robby up and down and immediately clocked the expression on his face. He put his coffee down and wrapped his arms around him. Robby buried his face in Jackâs neck.
âNoâ he mumbled.
âWhatâs wrong? Did you change your mind? Do you want to stay home?â Jack asked gently, holding him tightly.
Robby shook his head. âNo, itâs just⌠I donât have an outfit.â
Jack narrowed his eyes. âYou do wear an outfit, Mike.â
âYeah.â Robby sighed heavily and straightened. âBut not a Pride outfit.â
Jack tried to hide the smirk creeping up on him, then reached out and cupped his chin. âListen Mike - you donât need a certain outfit, okay? You can go in whatever clothes you feel like. Itâs Pride, not the court.â
Robby smiled a little despite himself. âI knowâ he said before hesitating. âItâs just⌠I want to belongâ he added, barely audible.
For a moment Jack just looked at him. Twenty-five years of friendship. Months of dating. Countless conversations. And somehow Robby still thought he had to earn his place.
Jacks heart started to ached a little.Â
He leaned over to kiss him gently before turning around, grabbing a makeup palette sitting on the table. âOkay, come on, weâre fixing this. Hold still.â
Robby blinked. âWhat are you doing?â
âHelping you feel you belong thereâ Jack said, while painting a rainbow flag onto Robby's cheek.
When he was done he grabbed some temporary tattoos from the table. âSo, boyfriend, letâs get you Pride-ified, huh?â
âThatâs not even a wordâ Robby muttered under his breath, but secretly delighted how easy Jack made this for him.
Jack shrugged. âIt is now. And Iâll be condemned if I let my sexy boyfriend think he doesnât belong into his own community just because he doesnât have color on his body.â
He paused when he saw the look on Robbyâs face.
âYou know you belong there, right?â he asked with a gentle voice, while he pressed the tattoo on his arm.
Robby shrugged. âI donât know. I feel like⌠everyoneâs going to know I'm... an imposter.â
"You're not an imposter." Jackâs eyes narrowed, then he shook his head once, dabbing on the tattoo with a wet cloth. âYou belong there, Michael. Youâre as much part of this community as I am. So please, get this thought out of this pretty head of yours, huh?â
Robby smiled reluctantly, watching Jack peeling off the protective layer of the tattoo. A rainbow-colored heart appeared on his forearm.
Jack lifted his arm, pressing a soft kiss onto it. âI love youâ he whispered before kissing him properly.
Robbyâs response was a soft moan.
As they walked towards the parade route the sheer scale of it hit Robby. The streets were packed with people. There were drag queens in towering, elaborate wigs, leather-clad men leading their partners on leashes, families with rainbow-painted faces and groups of teenagers laughing and shouting. The air was filled with the thumping bass of a dozen different sound systems, the smell of street food and a palpable overwhelming sense of joy.
Robby felt a wave of panic bubbling up in his stomach.
It was too much.
The noise, the crowds, the sheer unapologetic flamboyance of it all. He felt a hundred years old and painfully straight, like a plain desert plant suddenly thrust into the middle of a tropical rainforest. He stuck close to Jack, his hand gripping his a little too tightly.
Jack on the other hand seemed like he had the time of his life - and he apparently knew everyone. He was stopped every few feet by people who hugged him or kissed his cheek. Robby stood by, a silent awkward shadow, a tight polite smile plastered on his face.
He felt like an accessory, Jackâs âplus oneâ.
âJACKIE ABBOT!â A drag queen in six-inch heels appeared out of nowhere and pulled Jack into a tight hug. âYou old bastard - where have you been?â
âWorking, my love.â
âYouâre a terrible liar. Good thing youâre still hot as fuck, baby.â The drag queen noticed Robby. âAnd whoâs that handsome fellow youâre dragging along? Never saw him before. Your toyboy?â
Jack smiled. âThatâs Michael, my boyfriend.â
That word still hit Robby square in the chest - and he loved to hear it.
The drag queen tilted her head, eyeing Robby up and down, then also pulling him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek with a loud smacking sound. âSo nice to meet you, Michael. Iâm Emily Dick-inson and I canât blame Jack for hiding you. Youâre adorable.â
Robby blushed instantly and mumbled something back. Emily stepped back again, grinning. âI love himâ he announced toward Jack. âI love a big shy guy.â He paused. âI need to run now but letâs have drinks later, okay? Need to know all about how you guys met.â
He waved and hurried away, his dress swinging behind him.
Robby blinked. âOkay.â
Jack laughed. âWelcome to the community, baby.â
They were barely able to walk a hundred feet before a man with a magnificent full beard and a kilt made of rainbow tartan stopped Jack. âJack! My god, itâs been agesâ he exclaimed, pulling him into a rib-crushing hug.
âDeclan, you look amazingâ Jack laughed, clapping him on the back before turning toward Robby. âThis is my boyfriend, Robby. Robby, thatâs Declan. He does the best drag in the city.â
âDonât tell that to Emily, huh?â Declan said with a grin. âThat old bitch is acting crazy today.â Then he turned his piercing kohl-lined eyes on Robby, a warm smile spreading across his face. âSo, youâre the one whoâs been keeping our boy so busy he canât even come out for a drink.â Then he held out a hand. âNice to meet you. And I canât blame Jack to be honest. If you were my boyfriend you wouldnât leave the bed until I say so.â
Jack started laughing while Robby felt a flush of warmth creeping up his neck.â Um.â he managed, his voice a little shaky. âItâs um⌠nice to meet you too.â
Declan winked. âThe pleasure is all mine, handsome. Youâve got a good one here. Donât ever let him go. And if you want to, just hide this prosthetic leg of his.â
âDeclan!â Jack exhaled, still laughing. âFuck you.â
Declan shrugged unapologetic. âNeed a trick or two up your sleeve as a gay man, right?â
He winked toward Robby again, then gave a small wave and disappeared into the crowd again.
They found a spot near the barricades to watch the parade. Robby looked around, still feeling a little overwhelmed, his hand grabbing the cold metal while Jacks hand rested warmly on his back.
Then - âJack!â
They turned around. A woman with short red hair was standing behind them, carrying a toddler. Another woman stood behind her, holding a stroller.
Jack immediately lit up. âSara! Oh my God!â
He stepped toward her and pulled her into a tight hug - or as tight as it was manageable with a tiny person sitting on her arm.
âAnd thatâs Michael, I assume?â he asked, nodding toward the toddler with the curly hair.
She nodded. âYeah. Two years old now with very big opinions.â
âI canât believe Iâm seeing you with a child. Not after meeting you in that bar where you let strangers do shots from your body. âJack grinned, then reached behind him, dragging Robby closer. âSo, thatâs a fun one then. Sara, this is my Michael.â
Saraâs eyebrows shot up. âYour Michael like in boyfriend?â
âYes.â
âLike in boyfriend boyfriend?â
Jack laughed. âYeah, Sara. Boyfriend boyfriend.â
âHoly shit!â
The woman behind her started laughing. âYou owe me twenty bucks, sweetheart.â
âI absolutely doâ she shot back, before pointing at Jack. âI told her youâd never settle down.â
âThatâs just plain rudeâ Jack replied dryly.
Sara shrugged. âI canât believe Iâm seeing Dr. Jack Abbot in a committed relationship. Youâve been a real slu-oh.â She stopped, suddenly remembering she carried a very awake and very listening toddler on her arms. âUm, youâve been wild in the past. Jack. Iâm so glad you found your person then.â
Robby blushed.
âNice to meet you, Michael. You guys need to come over for dinner soon, okay?â
Jack nodded. âYeah sure.â
Sara smiled. âGreat. We need to run now, but lets meet up soon, okay?â
They hugged again.Â
Robby watched Sara disappear into the crowd. âHuh.â
Jack immediately looked over. âUh-oh.â
âWhat?â
âI donât like the sound of this âhuhâ.â
Robby shook his head once, a tight feeling in his stomach. âSo, youâve been wild in the past?âÂ
Jack rolled his eyes. âSheâs exaggerating.â Then he noticed the weird look on Robby's face. His face softened immediately. He slid an arm around Robbyâs waist. âHey.â
Robby looked away, pretending to watch the parade that began to move slowly.
âMike.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre such a shit liar, Robinavitchâ Jack said with a smile, before leaning over, kissing his temple. âYouâre the only one Iâm wild with now.â
âGood.â
Jack raised an eyebrow. âVery possessive for a guy who didnât know he liked men ten months ago.â
Robby started to laugh. âShut up.â
A group of older men and women walked by, their arms linked carrying a banner that read âPittsburghâs Pioneersâ. Robby felt a lump form in his throat. These were the people who had fought the fights, who had endured so much hatred and fear, so that the rest could stand here today. So that Robby could stand here today, holding the hand of the man he loved, out in the open.
Jack squeezed his hand, his gaze following Robbyâs. âIâm so fucking thankful for themâ he said softly.
Robby nodded softly, his throat too tight to speak. He looked around him - really looked for the first time. He saw the love and the laughter, the defiance and the pride. He saw the young lesbian couple kissing without a care in the world, the gay couple lifting their child onto their shoulders, the transgender woman waving joyfully from a convertible.
And for the first time - he saw himself.
And slowly, piece by piece, the discomfort and the insecurity began to melt away, replaced by something else. Too small to really pay attention to, but lingering. A sense of belonging.
A sense of coming home.
The thought lingered quietly in the back of his mind as another float rolled past them, music blasting so loudly he could feel the bass vibrating through the barricade beneath his hands. The people dancing on top of it were dressed in bright neon colors, throwing handfuls of merchandise into the crowd.
Something flew directly toward him.
Years of emergency medicine kicked in before his brain had a chance to process it. His hand shot and he caught it cleanly without even looking.
âNice catch sexy!â somebody yelled.
Robby blushed and looked down. He blinked, then looked again.
Jack followed his gaze and immediately doubled over laughing.
It was a condom. A rainbow-colored condom. A very large rainbow-colored condom.
Robby held it out while the crowd around him started cheering.
âWhat am I supposed to do with this?â he asked flatly.
Jack was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. âAs far as Iâm concerned you know exactly what to do with condoms.â
Robby blushed and turned the packet over. Read the label. Turned it over again. âMight be a little tight.â
Jack started laughing again, smacking his arm. âSubtle.â
Robby grinned, then tucked it carefully into his pocket. Jack noticed immediately.
âYouâre keeping it?â
Robby shrugged. âItâs free.â
Jack still chuckled. âYouâre a doctor with a reasonable income.â
âDo you know how expensive med school was?â Robby replied with a deadpan expression before smiling.
A real smile. A smile that came easy and comfortable.
Jackâs laughter gradually faded. His eyes softened as he looked at Robby. There was something unbearably fond in his expression.
âYou okay?â Robby asked, his brows furrowed.
Jack nodded. âYeah. Itâs justâŚâ He squeezed his hand. âIâm so fucking glad youâre here.â
And even though the noise of the parade continued around them the world felt quieter for a moment. Robby squeezed his hand back. âYeah.â He cleared his throat. âMe too.â
Jackâs face broke into a wide smile. He leaned in and kissed him, a deep passionate kiss that was so full of love it was almost painful.
For once it didnât feel reckless. It didnât feel forbidden. It felt like a celebration.
The crowd around them started cheering and whistling. Robby felt a blush creep up his face but this time it wasnât from embarrassment. It was from pure unadulterated happiness. Jackâs hand slipped up his neck, holding him there while the kiss deepened.
âGet a room!â someone shouted amused.
âNo way, I want to watchâ someone shouted back, earning some laughter.
Robby wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him close. âI love youâ he whispered.
Jack held him tight. âI love you tooâ he murmured, then added a little louder: âWelcome to Pride, Michael.â
Hiiiii I have a request for Abbot. Him and younger!nurse reader are getting ready to go out and about for the day (coffee walk, farmerâs market maybe, i dont know!) and sheâs wearing a teensy tiny sundress that he just absolutely cannot handle her in. He notices she keeps turning heads all day but once they get home he has his way with her and asks to keep the sundress on while she flips up her skirt and goes to town all while whispering possessive things in her ear because to drive him crazy to see everyone staring at her ;)))
if brevity is the soul of wit then i appear to be at my wits end. everyone say thank you so much anon. i hope i made ur heart (among other things) flutter :) also this ask is so lana to me so please find my song inspiration below.
