Summary: John Carter and Andrew Cody were childhood friends. John had a crush on him and his older brother, Jack. Things only get more complicated when they meet up as adults.
Pairing: Andrew "Pope" Cody x John Carter x Jack Abbot
Rating: nsfw content, 18+, mdni!
Warnings: Incest, NSFW content, medical things, discussions of mental health, some instances of nonconsensual sexual contact
Word Count: 1k
Jack Abbot left an entire life behind before he moved to Pittsburgh. He changed his name and almost everything else about himself. He had to get away from the reputation his family name seemed to hold. What he hadn’t meant to do was leave his younger brother, Andrew.
Jack knew that the boy was troubled; how could he not be with a mother like theirs? But troubled in a way where he wouldn’t make it out like Jack had, at least not without a tremendous amount of help. Andrew used to have a friend who seemed completely oblivious to what kind of house he was spending the night at.
John Carter was bright, idealistic and never stopped talking about how much he wanted to be a doctor. That was something they had in common, though Jack had wanted to be an army doctor; he had thought it was the fastest way to get away from his criminal family. Andrew never really understood it, mostly because John Carter had the family name and the money to do absolutely nothing with his life and have more than enough to share.
Jack also thought his younger brother might’ve been a bit jealous of them getting along, bonding over their shared dream of medical school. Occasionally, Andrew would stay over at the Carters’, but he would always return angry and bitter, saying extra close to their mother, even sleeping in her bed, regardless of whether he was gone a day or a week. Jack knew it was unhealthy, but he never did anything to stop it. There was just no coming between Smurf and her baby.
John asked everybody once, he had been sleeping over, something that had been increasingly common at the time. All three of them were squeezed into Jack’s room, sitting on his bed and playing some video game Jack can’t remember anymore. She knocked on the door and said she had needed to speak to Andrew, leaving John and Jack on their own. Jack remembers the way that John’s chest would lift up with each careful breath, clearly working up the courage to say something. “Why do you think my mom doesn’t love me the way your mom loves you?” There had been absolutely no judgment in John’s question, the way Jack had been expecting, just a deep longing, like Smurf's obsession with her son wasn’t inappropriate but a normal family dynamic that John wasn’t getting from his own family.
He turned to look at John, preparing himself for a gentle conversation on how what they had wasn’t something John wanted, when he saw something else swimming in the man’s brown eyes. Jealousy. Was John jealous of their mom? Is he jealous of Andrew for the family they had? Jack had known, even then, that he needed to be delicate about how he explained things. He didn’t like lying to the kid, but he needed to protect him, protect both of them. “Smurf is harder on Pope, John. It’s not something you should be hoping for. You don’t need that kind of attention from your family; you’re welcome here with us anytime, you know that.”
Even back then, John knew there was something off about the Cody family. He wasn’t an idiot, but they were close, unlike his own family, who just ignored him until he did something that they considered a screw-up. He felt drawn to them, Andrew and Jack in particular. He remembers the look on his friend's face when he got back from his mother‘s room. A more subdued look, like he had just given up and given in to whatever had been going on.
“It’s getting late, you two should get to bed.” Jack had stated, and John had wanted to argue, but he saw the way that Jack was eyeing up Andrew, and he thought better of it, handing over the game controller and getting up, both of them going down the hall to Andrew‘s room.
John wakes up early, something he’s been conditioned to do, and he always takes a moment to look over his friend's face and body, taking the time to silently name all the bones he can remember as his eyes pass over where they would be. Andrew knew that John did this. He had discovered it months ago, lay there with his eyes closed and listened to John recite the names of bones under his breath. He had never let on the fact that he was awake, but that particular morning, he couldn’t keep his giggles to himself. He cracks when I open and smirks up at John, “Yep, 206 bones, they’re all still there.”
John freezes for a second, having been caught, then chuckles and shakes his head. “Shut up, man, I just wanna make sure I remember.”
Andrew rubbed at his eyes and sat up. “So you’re really going to do this? You’re going to leave me and go to medical school?”
“I want to be a doctor, Andrew, I wanna help people and not just with my parents' money.” They had this conversation many times since John had brought up the idea of going to med school when they were growing up. “But don’t worry, that’s not for years, and I’m not just going to up and leave, we will always be friends.” John had smiled that bright smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle and always made Andrew’s stomach flutter, even if he didn’t believe a word that John was saying.
Andrew had thought about kissing John a million times, but mostly when he smiled like that. He didn’t know what it was about this particular day, but he finally gave in to the urge, leaning forward and pressing his lips firmly against Jones. Andrew can feel the other man stiff against him, but it doesn’t make him pull away like it probably should. Like everything else he does, Andrew “Pope” Cody comes at kissing with too much intensity, too hard and too needy. Just as he was about to pull away and apologize, John’s hand came up to cup his cheek, and he began kissing Andrew back. That’s when the trouble really started.
it is great to see yourself in characters that you enjoy, it's fun, it's nice to see yourself represented on screen, etc.
however, ‼️‼️some‼️‼️ of you need to realize that in reading criticism of a character, you're not reading criticism of you.
when I criticize a character like... ogilvie, or langdon, etc, that you see yourself in? I am not taking a hit on you because I don't KNOW you. I don't know you at all. it's not good for your health to identify with a character to the point that you can't handle any criticisms about the character. (easier said than done, I know.) people are allowed to even hate a character that reminds you of you. maybe they hate the character but they'd like you if they met you. because you are NOT this character.
the only character "criticism" that you can get mad at is when it's bullshit criticism. I'll criticize frank for his misogynistic tendencies and how he's treated santos etc, but that's a whole different ball game then simply hating him for being an addict. that's the difference between a genuine critique on a character and an honestly gross take.
for me personally, I defend Robby a lot. this is partially because his character is complex and interesting to me, but also because yes, I do see myself in a lot of his mental struggles. they're well written. I don't consider myself the same person, though, and I'm willing to critique his shit mentorship shown to Samira and others, his biases shown in the David situation and his treatment of Al Hashimi and etc, because things like that are genuine criticism and he's a grown man that should be held accountable.
I defend Robby from bullshit "criticism" that is again, just vile takes that stigmatize mental health. hating langdon for being an addict or robby for having PTSD aren't criticisms, they're biases that you hold and should definitely do something about. when you hate a character for those reasons, it's not reaching them. they are fictional and won't be affected. it will affect real people that struggle with mental illness and/or addiction.
When Robby hears that they're getting a new batch of interns, the last thing he expects is to come face to face with the kid of the woman he last slept with. The woman had went on and an about her kid in medical school, he had met the kid on a few occasions and now... that last name sounded so familiar.
"Dana can I have the files for all the new interns?" He asks when there's a lull in the day.
"Here's an idea," Dana grins at him. "Why don't you get to know them by talking to them?"
Robby rolls his eyes at her. "Ha- Ha. I just want to check something.”
Dana still looks suspicious of him but she hands over the files anyway.
Robby takes the files back to his desk and rifles through them like he's just par using until he's sure that no one has eyes on him, then he flips to the file of Dennis Whitaker.
He isn't sure how long he's looking at the file but then a timid voice comes from the front of his desk. "Dr. Robinavitch?" He lifts his head and then he is face to face with the kid who he's researching.
He flips the file shut. "Whitaker, You can just call me doctor Robby, everyone does."
"Okay, Dr. Robby, can I talk to you?"
Robby raises an eyebrow, looking over the kid. He looks so nervous, chewing at his bottom lip and rocking slightly on his feet, just like the first time they had met, reminding Robby exactly why he had to break it off with Dennis' mom. "Yeah, sure," Robby nods, leading Dennis toward a supply closet, more private than an open trauma room.
"My mom told me that you broke it off with her." Dennis starts as soon as the door is closed behind them. "Is that because of what happened... with us?"
Robby swallows. “We said we weren't going to talk about that and we especially can't talk about it at work."
"Are you gonna make me transfer to another hospital for my ER rotation?"
“I would never compromise your education because of what happened,” Robby answers with a shake of his head.
Dennis breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay good.”
Then, he looks at Robby and Robby has to force himself to look away, his brain unhelpfully supplying flashbacks of his large hands around Dennis' bony wrists, squeezing tight while he fucks hard and fast into his tight hole, the longer man practically sobbing, pressed into the wall in front of them.
"My mom really liked you, you know." Dennis says softly. "And so did I," He adds, looking genuinely hurt.
Robby huffs out a long breath, his cheeks puffing out while he locks his fingers behind his head. "Whitaker, do you know how wrong it would be of me to sleep with a woman and also her kid? And what if, god forbid," He chuckles, "Your mom and I got married? Then I'd be fucking my own step son."
Dennis' cheeks flush and he bites his lip again before stepping forward, crowding Robby back against the corner of the already cramped room. "I know, it's so fucking hot," Dennis practically moans and against his better judgment, Robby's cock gives an enthusiastic twitch.
It starts the night he leaves, the sight of Jack holding up a bottle of beer as he smiles into the camera.
"Celebrating your safe return in advance"
the caption reads.
Robby chuckles and rubs the pad of his thumb over the man's face. He can feel a lump form in his throat, the thought of never seeing Jack again hitting him hard.
His thoughts stop dead when he looks at the background.
The kitchen looks like his. No, it is his. A bout of panic overtakes him, realising Dennis is most likely also there.
"What the fuck are you doing in my apartment Abbot"
he responds, ignoring the pang in his heart at the thought of what might have happened had he left a little later.
Maybe Jack would have tried to convince him to stay. Maybe it would have worked.
A ping informs him of a new message.
"Your boy got lonely. Some training he must've gotten, his daddy's gone for an hour and he has to call another old guy to take care of him"
It's accompanied by another photo.
A head of light curly hair being shoved down into one of his pillows by a large freckly hand. Robby doesn't need to see the rest to know what's happening below.
He wonders if Whitaker is thinking of him with his scent in his nose while Jack fucks him.
A wave of arousal hits him, the boy is so attached to him. Reliant on the older man to this extent even though they've never done anything outright untoward.
He takes a deep breath, his hardening cock and spiraling thoughts fighting for control.
He types out an answer.
"If you know what's good for you, take your fucking hands off him"
It hurts him to talk to Jack like that, but the possessive part of him won't allow for anything less.
Another picture follows.
Whitaker peers up at the camera with watery blue eyes, a cock so far down his throat the only thing left outside are greying pubes.
"Not my hands, right?"
the message reads.
A low growl leaves his body and he grips his phone so hard he feels like it might crack.
Before he can find a scathing reply, another thing pops up.
It's a video.
He clicks it the second he realises and lets out a shuddering breath.
Whitaker is riding Jack, the older man pointing the camera up at him. Robby watches the lithe boy swivel his hips, using the cock inside him to hit the deepest spots in his cunt.
Oh. Robby didn't know that.
A small voice comes through the phone. Robby turns the volume up all the way, the sound of skin slapping and panting breaths filling the room.
"F-ffuck Robby, I-"
A loud smack echoes as Jack slaps his ass. "That's not what you call us, is it, puppy?"
Whitaker whimpers, looking shy even as he rolls his hips faster like a bitch in heat.
"Nn-noo Daddy, I'm sorry Daddy, I- fuck, I just got so desperate without you here, and I needed-"
"Needed a good cock fucking you so deep you turn all stupid huh?" Jack asks as he fucks up into the wet heat of the boy's pussy, and Robby shivers at the combination of his gravelly voice and the squelching sound of the thrusts.
"Mhm, miss Daddy so much I'll die- hick- die without him" tears spring from his eyes, the overwhelming pleasure and emotions too much for his small body.
Jack shushes him with a soft kiss, whispering something so quietly Robby can barely hear it.
"I know, me too, sweetheart."
As the video ends, Robby turns off his phone and puts it down on the bed, sitting in the dark of his empty hotel room.
He picks up his stuff and leaves, speeding back to Pittsburgh in record time.
maybe it's just because robby's always looking at dennis that he notices. dennis is charting at his station, leaning back against his jacket draped over the back of the chair. and squirming.
his thighs are clenched together, flexing rhythmically in a way robby can't help but find incredibly distracting. gnawing on his bottom lip while all of his attention is trained on the screen in front of him.
'need a break there, whitaker?'
dennis turns to look up at robby at the sudden address. his cheeks are pink. pupils dilated. 'i don't—' a sharp breath in as he shifts in the seat again 'uh yeah. maybe i should...' he trails off, beelining out of the chair and off to the bathroom.
after that, robby makes a habit of reminding dennis to use the bathroom whenever there's some downtime and he hasn't seen dennis go for a while. and maybe they're both a little into the realization that robby looks at dennis enough to know his tells better than dennis knows himself.
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