it gives me you.

Andrew sighs and picks everything up off the floor. He riffles through them, searching to see if you have anything he can sneak into his pocket and pay for when you’re not paying attention. “The grocery store?” he mumbles at the cat while placing the Chinese takeout menu next to Michael, letting him sniff it as if he might smell the orange chicken through the sticky paper. 

He lets out an incomplete meow, then flicks it off the table again. 

“Rude cat,” Andrew replies, looking at Michael, who has jumped off the table and made room for Scott, your tuxedo kitty, who doesn’t really think of anything besides wet food and making biscuits on your stomach. “Hi Scottie, have you checked your mom's mail yet?” 

“Meh,” she answers, which is good enough for Andrew. 

He doesn’t know how you’ve accumulated such mail while he was away. He always tells you to check when you get home – he’ll say, “What if you have an important bill to pay and you miss it because you don’t check your mailbox?” 

Then, you’ll reply with, “We live in modern America. They can call or text me. Plus, I have you.” 

He laughs at the thought as he reaches the end of the pile. He’s about to drop the envelope, but stops just before it leaves his fingertips.

“What is this?” he asks himself, and receives an unsolicited response from Scott. “I thought you didn’t check her mail. Why are you answering like you know?”

Scottie jumps off the table – grazing Andrew’s arm as though she disagrees with his smart remark. 

He brings the envelope closer to his eyes and reads the company name. 

Miranda Schofield's San Diego Eating Disorder Recovery Center. 

He stares at it for a few minutes. He puts it down, then lifts it back up to make sure he read that right. 

Eating. Disorder. Recovery. Center. Bill due 5/15. 

Andrew looks over at the bright neon calendar you have hung up beneath the dry-erase board, and checks the date. 

May 14. 

Without asking himself anything, he slips the envelope into his back pocket and walks away from the bubble of questions he found himself in. To busy his mind, he grabs your dirty clothes from your bedroom and starts a load of laundry. 

While they silently whir in the new washing machine he bought to replace your old whiny one, he cleans your room. He started doing this two months into your relationship despite your incessant begging for him to do anything else.

 “Powerwash the driveway, or clean the kitchen. Or the baseboards behind the washer and dryer! Just don’t bother with my bedroom. It’s a mess, and you’ll never manage to get it clean,” you’d beg him, following him around with your hand fisted into the back of his shirt like a crying child. 

He obviously wouldn’t listen, because in his strange and beautiful mind, it was a form of therapy. Once you saw this firsthand, you stopped crying and let him clean every nook and cranny of your maximalist bedroom. You audibly cringed when he first cleaned beneath your bed – he fished out old socks and an old vibrator box you were too anxious to throw away – but simmered down when he just shrugged and kept on cleaning. 

Andrew typically just cleans. He doesn’t look through your drawers in search for something you might be hiding. He knows you keep your ‘lady things’ in your bedside drawer, stuffed beneath satin bonnets, sleeping masks, and unread books, and that you keep a stash of joints in a pill bottle in your bathroom. He knows where everything is and doesn’t usually find himself curious to search.

But today is different. Along with knowing every hiding spot, is his knowledge about the memory box you keep tucked beside the left foot of your bed. Once he’s done cleaning your bathroom and sweeping and mopping your bedroom floor, he sinks to his knees and grabs the neon pink box splattered with dollar store gems and tiger print duct tape. 

He’s not doing it with bad intentions; he just wants to know if anything hints at the bill still crumpled in his back pocket. He takes off the lid and sets it on the bedside table. He pushes past the countless ticket stubs and letters he’d leave behind before jobs, and grabs the stack of photos at the bottom. 

The first few are of you and him on hikes, at the bar, or at the beach. Some of you and your best friends at a Halloween festival. Nothing really shares any insight until he finds an old picture of you. This must date back a few years – your face is far more youthful than it is now, and much rounder, too. Your cheeks are red and round like gala apples, and your smile is wide and bright. 

You look beautiful, Andrew thinks to himself. He stares at this picture for what feels like eternity, though technically it’s just until the washing starts singing thirty minutes later. He could stare at it for thirty more, because of how gorgeous you look in your bright yellow swimsuit dotted with flowers. He can’t stop obsessing over the way it sits on your hips – hips that are wider than they are now. He can’t stop looking at the way your skin slips over and under the strings of your bathing suit top. He thinks you’re gorgeous, and finally lets himself enter the bubble of questions he left less than an hour ago.

He snaps out of his gaze when two purring kitties rub their heads against him. Michael sniffs the memory box, and Scottie jumps into Andrew’s lap, her eyes fixed on the picture he’s holding. 

“Is your mother okay?” he asks Scottie, but she doesn’t answer. “Why did this happen?” 

He wishes cats could talk in this moment. He’s sure Michael and Scottie would tell him all about the clinic bill and what led their mother to look drastically different than the photo. It can’t be that old, considering you’re in California with your group of friends – a state you moved to two years ago – and holding the surfboard you only acquired a year ago. 

Andrew stands up when the sing-song of the washing machine starts sounding like a fire alarm. He neatly tucks everything back into the memory box and holds the photo he’d been staring at between his thumb and forefinger. He places the lid back onto the box, then carries it down to the kitchen, where he sets it down beside the photo and the unpaid bill. 

He continues cleaning your apartment: he moves your clothes into the dryer, dusts your living room fan, moves every piece of furniture around to compile all the dirt into one corner, which he then sweeps up. He mops every corner of your house with the strongest solution, and once your clothes are dry and smell of salt and lavender, he folds and puts them away. 

Andrew sits down at your kitchen table when he’s done, dripping with sweat and smelling of faint aftershave. He lays his phone out in front of him and opens the Find My Friends app, clicking on your name. Your dot is moving around Oceanside, getting closer and closer to your house as the seconds pass by. 

He turns his phone off when your keys jingle in the door. Michael and Scott run over and purr until you open the door. They stop, but only for a second. Then they start crying. 

“Hi my babies!” you sing, bending down with a bag full of wet swimsuits. 

“Leave the bag outside,” Andrew says, cringing at the droplets your bag leaves on the shiny floor. 

You re-open the door and throw it next to the lounge chair. You come back in and pick up your kitties. “Have you been fed? Are you hungry?” 

“Their automatic feeder went off a while ago while I was cleaning.” 

“Have you given them wet food?” you ask, stepping into the kitchen and admiring the cleanliness. You scrunch your nose at the strong smell of lemon and vinegar cleaning solution. 

Andrew shrugs. “They didn’t complain about the dry stuff.” 

You chuckle and continue your venture through the room. “You’re supposed to give them wet food for lunch. Michael in my room and Scottie in the laundry room because one likes salmon and one likes chicken. But they somehow always try to eat one another’s food if you keep them in the same room.” 

“Cats in the wild don’t get that option, you know. They should be thankful they have a roof over their head and an automatic feeder.” 

You roll your eyes and mutter, ‘Well, they’re not wild cats.’ You look around, smelling the lavender that remains in the air from the recent load of laundry, and smile. Even if Andrew doesn’t understand what it’s like being a cat mom, he understands how to keep a place clean. And for that, you can’t completely be mad. 

“Thank you for cleaning. Did you get new laundry detergent? It smells like lavender and –” you go to say, but pause before you get to say ‘salt.’ Your memory box is sitting on the kitchen table, right beside your recovery bill and a photo of you before starvation and bulimia took over your first year living in California. You point at it, then look at Andrew. “You went through my stuff.” 

“You have an unpaid bill from Miranda Schofield's Eating Disorder Recovery Center.” 

“Okay. So that prompted you to go through my stuff?” 

“I wanted to know why.” 

“So ask.” 

“Can you sit down? You’re stressing me out,” he says, gesturing towards the seat across from him. 

You keep standing, arms crossed over your chest. You’re holding onto your armor that is falling apart as you look into Andrew’s eyes. You haven’t told anyone but your therapist, a couple of people at the center, and one friend about your eating disorder since you moved to Oceanside. You haven’t told Andrew, because to you, it’s in the past. Your final visit to the center was a month before you met him, and you’ve been clean since then. No throwing up, no laxatives, no starving. Just an immense amount of hobbies and therapy sessions you have been concealing under the words ‘Swim Time.’ Why tell him about it if you don’t plan on going back anytime soon? 

“I don’t want to. I can tell you standing up.” 

“Sit the fuck down,” he orders. 

You grunt and pull the chair back. You plop yourself down and grab the unopened bill. “You look through my stuff, but don’t open the bill? If you’re already invading my privacy, might as well commit a federal crime.” 

“How long have you been avoiding this bill?” he asks. 

“I haven’t been avoiding it. I just forgot.” 

“You forgot, or you just didn’t feel like paying it?” 

You shrug and slide the paper over to him. “I stack them in my vibrator drawer and tell myself I’ll pay it when I wake up. And then I get busy and forget about it.” 

Andrew reads the services you’re being charged for and the amount you have to pay at the bottom of the page. 

Bulimia. Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID). 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t reply with a smart remark or say what his mind has been screaming since you first started speaking – “You’ve never cared about me going through your things. I thought it was okay.” He keeps reading the page until his brain meshes the words together. He starts thinking about the picture of you in the yellow bathing suit, and the girl in front of him with a figure plenty of times smaller. 

“I’ll pay it tonight,” you tell him. 

He throws the bill down and stands. He runs off into your bedroom while you say something nearly intelligible: “It was hard living here!” 

He grabs his wallet that sits on your dresser and rushes back into the kitchen. He sets it down on top of the bill and pushes it over to you. “Pay it right now while you talk to me about this.” 

“Why are you mad?” you ask, or beg, really. 

“I’m not mad. I’m concerned.” 

You laugh. Then you pull out your phone, scan the QR code at the bottom of the page, which takes you directly to the payment website, and start talking while you type in his debit card information. “I wasn’t as insecure before I moved here. I sometimes didn’t like how I looked, but it was a normal amount then. Like when you’re about to get your period, and you start overanalyzing yourself. But most of the time, I didn’t think my body was that big of a problem.” 

You finish paying the bill – an amount you don’t even want to think about – and return his card. “I don’t know much about periods making you hate yourself. I don’t have one.” 

You shake your head at the dumb remark and bite down on your lip to stop yourself from saying something dumb right back. “I’ll tell you later,” you say instead, pausing right after before picking up where you left off. “I started hating how I looked right before I moved. I was visiting while I solidified my living arrangements, and by the end of my week-long stay, I realized I didn’t belong there. Which sounds dumb, because my job created a position just for me. But I mean it like…” 

It’s hard for you to confess what made you pick up this frustrating addiction. It’s stupid when you think about it, but also extremely real and painful. Andrew isn’t making it any better, either. He isn’t making facial expressions. He’s only looking at you with a straight face, eyebrows drawn together if you look hard enough. 

“Don’t judge me.” 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because tons of people here tend to do that.” 

“Fuck them,” he says, voice stern. 

You nod. You reach over for his hand and grip it with enough strength to make his fingers lose color. “I felt like I didn’t fit in because no one looked like me. Everyone was thin with small faces, big lips, and perfect boobs. The guys had incredible abs, and no one had beer bellies, even though everyone drank and smoked. No one wanted to look like me. It was noticeable, even if they didn’t say it.” 

“So you started …” Andrew chooses his words ultra carefully now. He’s never a stuttering mess, but he is now. “Starving yourself? Throwing up or… restricting food?” 

“All of the above,” you answer, your voice and body shrinking. 

“Jesus, baby,” he murmurs. 

“You don’t get it.” 

“I want to.” 

“I wanted to look like everyone else. That’s it. I didn’t want to walk into shops and get stared at because nothing in there was meant for me. I didn’t want to walk into a smoothie shop and immediately get told what I should get, which was always some nasty green drink with every sour green in the universe,” you admit. “I also wanted to look perfect for when I’d meet someone. Someone perfect like you.” 

Andrew pushes himself off the chair and sinks onto his knees in front of you. He grabs your other hand and sandwiches all ten of your fingers between his. “You are perfect.” 

“Now I might be,” you scoff. 

“No, you always were. I wouldn’t have cared about your weight ‘cause it’d still be you.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“What would I gain from lying to you?” 

You shrug. “Fair point.” 

Andrew unwraps your fingers and kisses your knuckles. “I love you,” he murmurs. 

“What’d you say?” you ask. Your heart starts beating faster, nearly leaping into your throat. “Did you just say what I think you said?” 

“I love you,” he says, louder this time. 

“Get up.” 

He doesn’t make you repeat yourself. He stands up and cages you in, one arm planted onto the table, the other fisting your chair. “I love you,” he keeps telling you. “Say it back, please.” 

You stand up and kiss him with immense infatuation. “I love you,” you say, your teeth clacking against his. You wrap your arms around his neck and push against his body. You keep repeating the words while you deepen your kiss and make it to your bedroom door. Michael and Scott follow behind you two, meowing like they might be judging you. 

You step into your bedroom, and Andrew pushes you up against your dresser. He chases your mouth and says, “Don’t let them in, they’re literal children.” 

You laugh and move around him to shut the door. Right before you do, you look at them peering up at you and nearly cry. “I’m sorry, babies. Mommy is about to fuck your dad’s brains out.” 

“I’m their dad now?” he asks with a playful groan. 

“You said I love you! You have to be now.” 

Even though he’s stressed at the thought of buying all of their expensive food, along with paying for their unnecessary clothing and flower-shaped scratching posts, he agrees because it makes you questionably happy. 

Andrew would do anything to make you happy. He voices that as he devours your body from head to toe. 

“Don’t go through this alone,” he whispers once you’re lying in bed after long and intimate sex. His hands are holding your head as if it were glass: with care. “I need you to tell me when you feel insecure. Or if someone looks at you weirdly. Or tells you to eat their green shit smoothie.” 

“Okay, baby. I will,” you laugh. 

“Seriously. I need you to tell me. I need to make sure you’re okay. Always.” 

You promise in the form of a pinky promise and a kiss. 

Your life has always been full of unpredictabilities and unsurety. The people in your life had always kept secrets that would leave you hurt in the end.

It had gotten to the point where you were weary of making new friends or getting attached to people. It felt like you’d never have anyone you could trust.

Then you got a nursing job at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. It’s where you met your closest friends..

It’s also where you met him.

Jack Abbot.

He was everything you were afraid to have. Afraid to trust. He didn’t seem real. That’s why it took a few months of him pursuing you and wearing you down until you agreed to date him.

It had been the best decision you made and you’ve loved every minute over the last year and a half.

Then one day the bad feelings started coming back.

Something's been up with Jack lately and it’s starting to put you on edge.

It started about two weeks ago.

You and Jack had been laying on the couch watching tv when his phone rang. You go to pick it up and hand it to him, a normal thing you do but before you can sit up he’s rushing up to grab it. “Sorry baby, I gotta take this.”

He walks to the bedroom and closes the door most of the way. 

Okay?

Jack had never done that with you.

You worry a little but then let it go. Maybe it was confidential information that he didnt want you to overhear. Maybe it was something personal with family.

The next thing you notice is how much he’s been working lately.

Normally he has a regular night shift schedule and is on for 4-5 days and then off the other days. Recently, he’s been working about six days a week and picking up day shifts too. He claimed it was due to a shortage on day shift but you knew Robby had just filled the empty shifts and the place was fully staffed as of now.

You wanted to ask him about things but were too afraid of the answer. But it was starting to eat away at you and you needed some answers.

Maybe you could talk to Robby. He might know what's been up with your boyfriend.

—

You walk into the pitt for your shift and see Robby at the hub. Looking around, you dont see Jack so you quickly make your way to him.

“Robby?” you ask as you approach the nurses station.

He looks up and smiles “Hey kiddo, what can I do for ya?”

You wring your fingers a little.

“Do you know what's up with Jack lately?”

A look crosses his face that you can't decipher.

“What do you mean? What makes you ask that?” he asks curiously.

You shrug “I just– he’s acting weird and I’m worried”

“Dont sweat it kid” he shakes his head a bit “Bet he’s just been busy with work lately.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks Rob.” 

He gives you a quick side hug.

“Any time.”

You turn and head towards the ambulance bay doors still not feeling secure about Jack’s recent behavior.

Robby watches you walk off, a small frown on his face.

He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text.

‘𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯.’

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Today’s your day off and you were oddly feeling okay given the recent events with Jack. He had been working a few day shifts every week to help out, info via Robby, so maybe it really was taking a toll on him.

You thought about what Robby said and decided that if work is what’s bothering him then you could bring him lunch today as a pick me up.

You stopped by his favorite sandwich shop and walked into the pitt.

“Hey doll, I thought you were off today?” Dana smiles as you approach the hub.

You smile back.

“Thought I’d bring the night owl some food since he’s been working so much. Know where I can find him?”

She turns to read the patient board.

“He was last with a patient near room 14. She points to the room and you see a glimpse of grey curls walk past into the next room.

“I see him. Thanks D!”

“No problem! See ya sweetpea!” she waves as you make your way to Jack.

When he sees you his face lights up with a smile.

“Hey honey, thought you were relaxing today?”

You give him a quick kiss.

“Just wanted to bring you something to eat. I know you’re working a lot. Thought you could use something better than a vending machine option”

He chuckles, “Thank you sweetheart, you’re the best.”

Suddenly his phone rings.

He sees the screen and quickly grabs it. “I gotta take this, it’s Robby. He was supposed to get back to me with patient information from earlier. Can you put this in the break room fridge for me?” he says as he hands you back the sandwich.

Your heart sinks a little. 

You had wanted to spend a little time with him today.

“Yeah baby, of course” you give him a half smile.

He grabs your hand gently “I’ll see you later tonight okay?” 

You nod as you grab the food and head towards the break room. You don’t get very far as you see Robby waves you over from the nurses station. He’s on the phone so you wait for him to finish.

“I know Noelle. Yeah, I know we were supposed to have dinner but stuff came up, look I-“

You stop listening after that.

Noelle?

Wasn’t he on the phone with Jack?

You turn your head back to the room Jack’s in and see him smile as he talks.

Robby clearly isn’t talking to Jack.

So who is?

Your heart sinks and all the feelings you had managed to silence yesterday are on full blast now.

I can’t be here.

You quickly turn and leave the pitt, not waiting to hear what Robby had to say.

The only thought in your head?

What am I going to do?

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You drive around a bit trying to gather your emotions and figure out what to do. 

One call to Trinity and you have a place to stay as long as you need. After that’s taken care of, you make it back to Jack's apartment and start packing your stuff.

Jack gets home not too long after you and makes his way to the bedroom where he figures you are.

His smile drops at the sight of you stuffing your clothes in a large duffle bag.

"Sweetheart….what's going on?”

You shake your head as you continue pulling clothes from the dresser.

He moves in front of you to get your attention.

“Hey.. what happened. Baby please talk to me.”

“You already know.”

“Know what? Honey I-“

“Just stop! Stop calling me honey, sweetheart, whatever. You clearly didn’t mean it, any of it.”

Jack starts really worrying because he has no idea what’s happening or where this is coming from.

“If you wanted someone else, you should’ve just said so. Not lie to me and sneak around with whoever the fuck it is you’re talking to.”

“I’m not-“

“You’re not what? Lying about phone calls? Not home as often? Working more day shifts now? I hope she’s worth it.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you brush past him and rush out of the door.

He doesn’t miss the tears that start falling.

His heart breaks as you slam the door shut.

Fuck.

You had it all wrong.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The next day you arrive to the pitt a bit early. You had an appointment with your obgyn for your yearly visit. Normally, you’d go to her practice across town but she had mentioned being at ptmc anyways so you decided to have it done here.

You check your phone and see dozens upon dozens of unread texts, missed calls and voicemails from Jack.

The sadness comes rolling back as you think about it all. He seemed hurt for someone who was likely cheating but you couldn’t bring yourself to hear him out. You didn't want to know why he did it or who it was with.

—-

You're on the exam table with your feet in the stirrups. The ob asks you the standard questions as she preps the things she’ll need for the appointment.

Alright.

“Alright hun, slide your butt down to the edge and then relax your knees and let them drop to the side.

You do so and clasp your hands across your stomach, staring at the ceiling s your mind is plagued with thoughts of Jack.

“Now, I’m going to insert the speculum. It’ll feel a little cold and you’ll feel some pressure. Just relax.”

She inserts the tool and widens it. You feel the slight pressure.

“Next I’ll swa-”

She’s cut off by Jack storming in through the door into the room.

“Excuse me sir!” your ob says taken aback by his entrance.

“It’s doctor Abbot”

“Well Dr. Abbot” she starts “This is a private appointment and you need to leave.”

He huffs out a laugh.

“It’s not very private if it’s in my Google calendar. Also, that’s my girlfriend and I have something important to say.”

Your doctor looks at you, silently letting you know she’ll kick his ass if you don't want him here.

“It’s fine, we’ll be quick.”

She nods and steps out of the room.

You roll your eyes and lean your head to the side to look at him.

“What could you possibly need to say to me right now Jack?”

He takes a few steps forward.

“Sweetheart, I know things looked bad yesterday. I know. But it's not what you think. I’ll tell you everything but I have to do this first.”

He then grabs something from his back pocket and gets down on one knee by the exam table where you can see him.

Holy. Shit.

He is sooo not doing this here, is he?

“Jack, get the fuck up, right now.”

He opens the small velvet box to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring.

“Jack, you are not proposing to me while my vagina is out for all of Pittsburgh to see.”

He shakes his head with an amused smile.

“This isn’t how I planned to do this, trust me. I had the place, the food, a speech, everything. But I don't need all of that. I just need you. You’re the love of my life and I love you infinitely. Will you marry me sweetheart? 

You don't realize you’re crying as hot tears hit the paper on the exam table.

“Youre something else Jack Abbot. But yes, of fucking course I’ll marry you” you whisper with a watery smile.

“Thank fuck.” he murmurs as he stands quickly and leans over you on the table and kisses you.

He pulls back and brushes his hand over your cheek, wiping the tears.

“I love you sweetheart. There’s no one else for me.”

You giggle as you wipe another tear.

“I see that now and I'm so sorry. Is this what you’ve been sneaky about lately?”

He nods “Yeah baby. I don't have time for anyone else. Too busy making sure you stay with me forever.”

Then suddenly the sound of clapping pulls you both out of your little bubble.

You look up to see Robby and Dana at the room’s entrance with wide smiles on their faces.

“Okay!” you say loudly as you close your legs together “I love you both to death but please can we not have an audience for my vagina?!”

Dana lets out a cackle as she grabs Robby by the arm.

“Alright alright but congratulations to you both! Love you sweetpea!”

“Love you kiddo!” Robby adds.

When they both leave, you face Jack again and you both break into a fit of laughter.

“I cant believe you just did that J.”

He shakes his head with laughter as he slides the ring onto your finger.

“I’m just glad you still love me and said yes.”

“Again, I'm sorry I insinuated you were cheating. I should've just talked to you.”

He kisses your forehead.

“It’s all good baby, I promise. God, I can't wait to make you my wife.”

“Hmmm” you hum dramatically “I guess Mrs. Abbot has a nice ring to it.”

Jack pinches your side lightly.

“Hey!” you giggle from the ticklish feeling.

“Well,” he begins “Want me to finish your exam?”

“Jack Abbot!”

He winks at you.

“That’s my name, honey. Don't wear it out.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A month was a long time.

For the first few weeks you mostly stayed home for your own sanity.

Robby left you to your own devices rather than dragging you through the halls and chaos of the emergency department. And you knew it was for the better this way. Away from temptation, from complicated feelings. You got to focus on him—your connection, and the rebuild.

When he'd come home exhausted and worn from a shift with new grayer hairs and deeper creases carved beside his eyes, you'd greet him with an eagerness that embarrassed you sometimes. He sought you out the same way you did him—needing to be close, needing to clear your minds and just touch and kiss and give. And take.

You felt a little like you were starting to go crazy from the lack of release. Dysregulated, maybe. Because it wasn’t like Robby had stopped touching you altogether. No, he still came home and made you feel wanted. Still kissed you until your thoughts went fuzzy, still got his hands on you whenever he could, still fucked you deep into the mattress just how you liked. But it was everything after that started to get to you—the being brought right up to that heightened edge only to be left there over and over, your body not understanding why it never got to finish.

Even your own thoughts began to betray you. You’d be standing at the sink with your hands in warm dishwater, staring down at a plate you’d already scrubbed clean, thinking about him coming up behind you and bending you over the counter. You’d be folding laundry and suddenly lose the thread of what you were doing, a pair of his boxers in your hands from the dryer, your mind filling in some awful, humiliating little fantasy about getting stuck in there and him finding you, taking advantage of the position. The kind of crazy shit that college boys usually searched on porn sites. And it only made the mess between your legs pulse worse, ache worse, until you were hot and flustered and taking cold showers halfway through the day just to reset yourself.

And still, the line was always in the same place. Every single time you thought Robby might finally give in, might finally give you the relief you begged for, he wouldn’t. Instead, he’d leave you twisted up with frustration, blinking back tears while he held you against his chest and brushed your hair out of your face, telling you it was for your own good.

And you had agreed—at least for the first week.

By the second, you were counting days.

By the third, you were becoming a genuine menace.

The second he walked through the front door, you were on him. You’d hear his keys hit the bowl by the entryway, the sound of his shoes being toed off, and you’d already be making your way across the house. Some evenings he barely got a chance to set down his bag before you were climbing all over him, hands in his hair, mouth on his, pressing yourself against him with no patience left in you at all. Other nights he’d drop onto the couch with an exhausted sigh and find you halfway onto your knees before he’d even gotten comfortable.

And Robby knew. He had to know how crazy it was making you. Some little devil on your shoulder told you he was enjoying it, enjoying you being so insatiable, so needy for him all the time, following him from room to room, touching him whenever he got close enough, getting short with him when he made you wait.

Because that had started happening too. The attitude.

The little huffs of annoyance you'd never made before when he spoke to you, the muttered comments under your breath, the way you’d roll your eyes before you could stop yourself and then freeze because you knew he’d seen it.

He'd taken you over his knee so many times in the past few weeks, your bum was almost always sore. And, of course, it only made you wetter too. His voice would drop into that low, hoarse place it got when he slipped into his natural place with you, telling you to count, telling you to take it, telling you that pretty girls still needed to use their manners. Your face would be buried in the couch cushion, holding back your moans as you did as he said. And even when he'd slide his fingers into your sopping folds when he was done, that part still felt like punishment too. How sensitive you'd become, how needy and desperate it all made you.

Sometimes you wondered if he'd keep the torture going past the one-month mark, if he'd decide he was having entirely too much fun watching you unravel. But you trusted him, and he never played games with that trust. You knew you'd get your release soon.

Because you missed everyone. And he knew you missed them. He'd sometimes be deep inside you, sawing his hips so that his swelling cock kissed your cervix, his lips on your ear, his arms wrapped tight around you and he'd ask who you missed most. Was it Park and his big dick down your throat? Did you miss Langdon's sweet kisses? He knew your favorite things about his residents—about the staff. So he'd pluck at them like strings, asking you questions that made your eyes roll back as he drove his cock in and out of you.

And yes. Yes, you missed all of it. How Frank's kissing alone would turn you into a puddle, his mouth so pillowy and tasting like Red Bull. And Brendon. How sweet he was, how somehow he managed to make you feel cared for and desired at the same time. How there seemed to ve a version of him only reserved for you, one that always knew exactly what you needed to shut your brain off and make the rest of the world disapear for a little while.

You missed Jack too. Though you often shoved that thought far, far away.

But other than the sex, you just missed them. The others, too. Mateo, Shen— who hadn't seen in a while. You missed your friends. Dana, Samira, Trinity and Mel.

Maybe that's what you needed. A night just with friends. A girl's night out.

So you texted them. A group chat made up of residents, interns and med students. Mel, Trinity, Joy, Victoria, Samira, Parker. Even Dana and Emma.

And that's how you ended up here at Space Bar, with a colorful cocktail in your hand and pink and green and purple back lights flooding the bar with music thrumming through the speakers.

"What the hell kinda place have you dragged us to?" Ellis shouted over the music beside you at the bar as she pulled up a stool. When you looked over, her skin reflected the multicolored glow of lights, her pretty almond eyes on you. You watched as she tried to school her expression into something flat and deadpanned, but the twitch of her lips and the amusement in her gaze gave her away.

"Good to see you too, Parker," you teased, knocking your shoulder against hers. "And it's a cocktail lounge. V needs to get a taste for real drinks, not just the shit beers at Bob's on karaoke nights."

To your right, Victoria smiled, rolling those big brown doe eyes at you from beside Joy and Emma.

A handful of them had actually managed to get the night off, all of you packed shoulder to shoulder at the corner of the colorful bar. You listened while stories bounced back and forth about recent impossible patients, insane cases they saw, the attendings giving them shit. Whatever fresh disasters had happened in the weeks you were away from it all.

"Trinnnn—" you groaned when you spotted Santos coming from the door with someone trailing behind her, "I said it was a girl's night!"

She pouted back, throwing her head back onto her neck as she replied, "He's like a lost puppy—follows me everywhere, I swear."

Dennis came walking up, sheepishly standing away from the group, "I can…uh, go home."

"No, no, don't be silly," you said, smiling and grabbing his wrist to tug him closer, "How's Amy and the baby?"

He blushed, a deep red staining his cheeks, "She's good. Theo too."

You saw Trinity roll her eyes beside you as she flagged down the bartender and ordered them drinks.

"So, where's Yoyo tonight?" you asked.

She didn't answer, but shot a look at Dennis, who looked at you a little apologetically and said: "Touchy subject."

"No, no!" Trinity exclaimed, "It's cool! I actually like being her little squeeze toy on lonely nights!"

Her elbows hit the bar with a thunk, and she thanked the bartender for the drinks, handing one to Dennis, and then added when she saw the two of you grimacing at each other: "Please stop with that loooook. It's fine. Really."

It was a little quiet for a moment, awkward, uncertain. You wished you'd never asked.

"So when are you gonna tell us the reason you've been gone for a while?" Ellis asked beside you. You were grateful for a change in subject, but when every set of eyes flit up to your face, it made your skin burn hot.

"I've just been home, hanging out." you explained.

Ellis's brows shot up, a mock frown tugging her lips downwards, "No reason for the absence?"

"I just—I was taking a break."

"From…?"

"From the little reverse harem you got going on with Robby, right?" Trinity asked, the annoyed look long gone, now replaced with a shit eating smirk as she sipped her lime green drink.

You nearly choked on your own beverage, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Guys—" Mel cut in, two hands wrapped around her sprite, "I don't think it's really our business—"

"Wait, you and Robby…?" Emma asked shyly, her mouth open, the pieces of her hair that hung around her face swinging as she looked around the group.

"Duh," Joy said dryly, "Where have you been, Em?"

"Oh my god…" you groaned, your stomach flipping.

"What?" Trinity quipped, "we're all just wondering about your little Twilight love triangle—the Ddward Jacob of it all. Will she, won't she with Abbot…Spill, girl."

You agonized with a long sigh, "Trin…"

"So just guys?" Ellis asked beside you. Your eyes found hers again, a funny look in them as she sipped from her drink.

"So far…yeah…" you muttered, not even trying to discern what that look meant.

"So it's true about you and Langdon?" Mel asked, eyes wide behind her glasses. "I've learned to not listen to the rumor mill but—"

"Wait wait wait—so Robby shares you?" Dennis cut in, big blue farmer boy eyes widening. "With who?"

"I don't know really know if I'm feel comfortable telling you guys—"

"Mateo?" Victoria blurted. Several heads immediately turned toward her.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"V!" Joy laughed, the neon lights of the bar reflecting in her glasses as she shook her head in deep amusement and pity.

The heat in your face climbed straight into your ears, you could only stare into your drink, stirring it around. The bright pink color suddenly looked very unappetizing as your stomach churned.

But then Joy's head stopped shaking, and she was looking at you differently now, as if your silence was answer enough.

"Oh my God," she breathed, eyes widening.

"Okay, wow," Dennis laughed nervously.

"That's a yes." Trinity chuckled. "I mean, I'll admit Mateo does have great hair."

You refused to look any of them in the eyes, your throat tightening up as heat blazed across your face and down your neck.

"Woah, what happened here, Pittlings?" you heard a familiar voice from behind you, a set of hands steadying your shoulders. Dana. You let out a breath you were holding tight in your lungs.

She squeezed once before looking around the group, and when you looked up, you saw her eyebrows climbing higher with every face she passed over.

"Why's everybody look like they're waitin' for sentencing?" she asked. "I leave you's alone for five minutes and suddenly it looks like somebody confessed to a murder."

"Sorry, D. Just trying to get to the bottom of some very interesting dynamics," Trinity said with a smile.

"Oh, I'm sure they're very interesting. And also probably none of your business." she said, eyeing the others.

A few groans went up around the table.

"Mm-hmm." She pointed at them. "The amount of nosy packed into one corner of this bar oughta be studied."

"You'd wanna know too!"

"I absolutely do not," Dana snapped without missing a beat. "I know enough already, more than I need to about all of yous."

That earned a laugh from around the bar, everyone's tension easing a little.

"Now," she said, standing up straighter, "Benji's home with the kids and I get one night out a week. So who wants a shot?"

"I'll go…put some music on the juke box." you said, sliding from your chair in humiliation.

You walked across the bar to the touchscreen jukebox slowly. It wasn't a far walk, but it felt long. You counted every uneven step, the ground feeling like it might as well open up beneath you and let you fall into the earth. You wouldn't mind. You tried to collect yourself with deep breaths, reminding yourself that it wasn't really a secret—what you and Robby were. But still. You didn't expect the subject to be pounced on you like that with your friends, your sex life being mapped out like a differential.

 As you stood in front of the glowing screen, you scrolled aimlessly through the song list, though none of the names really processed as they passed beneath your fingertips. The music still thrummed through the speakers, vibrating up through your toes. You could still hear the group talking and laughing from across the bar, and your hands began to sweat a little, wondering if they were still talking about you or—

"Hey."

You startled, looking up to see Ellis. She leaned up against the bright neon jukebox, the violet and blue lights catching along her cheekbones, her pillowy lips, the heavy hood of her eyes. They looked softer than usual, blurred a little by alcohol, her mouth pulled into a small frown.

"Hi," you replied.

"I'm sorry about… that. I should've known better around Jealous little Javadi."

You shrugged, "It's fine."

"And Santos, too. Girl's got awful bedside manner."

"I said it's fine."

Ellis clicked her tongue and tilted her head, trying to catch your gaze when you looked back at the screen. "Look at me."

You did.

She studied your face for a long moment, and you found yourself doing the same. Her expression tightened slightly as she looked you over. Her big almond eyes moved across your face, lingering here and there before she stepped a little closer.

"I'm sorry." she said again, but with more earnestness. "Dana was right, I was being nosy. I should've minded my business, should've asked in a different way."

She was leaning close enough now that you could smell her perfume, her body wash, or maybe it was just her. Shea butter and coconut, something warm underneath that had you leaning toward her before you even realized you were doing it, trying to place it.

"You're a good girl, you know." she continued, and your stomach gave a strange little twist at the casual way she said the pet name. As if she knew.

"Thanks." you murmured, feeling the heat creep back up your neck. You meant to look away from her, to break whatever spell had pulled between you as she studied you closer, but you just… couldn't. Something was off, and it was making your belly flip a little as the two of you stared at one another.

"So how does it work?" she asked.

"How does what work?"

"You and Robby."

She turned a little so she was leaning in fully, as if creating a wall between you and the rest of the room.

You gnawed at your lip, your fingers absently scrolling through the songs. You tried to focus on the screen again, but your eyes kept drifting back to hers.

"You can tell me," she murmured, her lips parting slightly. "I can keep a secret."

"I know."

Your brain kept lagging a little on how close she'd gotten, on how open her features were as she looked at you. She didn't bother hiding anything, her hair pulled back, her eyes searching yours, her lips a little parted. It had your lungs struggling to catch a full breath.

"Usually, um, the…well, Robby will…"

What was wrong with you? Why couldn't you form a full sentence?

Her lips pulled into a little quirk of a smile, as if she knew why entirely. "What will Robby do, hm?"

You took in a deep breath, "Sometimes he lets me pick, sometimes it's more like… a reward system. For… whoever…"

"Oh?"

You nodded, "Like when…" god, your face was so hot, your thighs pushing together without realizing, "When Frank did the cervical reduction a couple months ago… he um, came to see me after."

Ellis's eyes had gone very heavy now, and you watched how they dropped from your eyes to your mouth. "And?"

"Well, he and I—" you swallowed thickly.

"Oi!" you heard from across the bar.

Both of you sprung back from one another.

Dana was calling from across the bar, both hands raised in the air.

"You two doin' shots or what!?"

The next day, you were fucking tired.

Not physically. Well, okay, maybe physically too. A little hungover and very dehydrated, but mostly tired in the particular way that came from having too many thoughts bouncing around your skull with nowhere to go.

Last night had turned out to be fun, eventually. Once everyone got the memo that you and their attending's sex life was not a topic for public discussion, thanks largely to Dana and Ellis glaring people into submission whenever the conversation started drifting back in that direction. You'd stayed out late, came home tipsier than you'd expected, and fell right into Robby's orbit when you'd returned. He'd been up waiting for you, reading over charts with his readers low on his nose, a mug of coffee gone cold beside him. One look at him and whatever resolve you'd had about going straight to bed had evaporated. It hadn't taken long before he was gathering your hair into his fist while you eagerly worked your lips down his cock.

But this morning, you were just exhausted. Robby had headed to the Pitt for his early start on his bike, the weather a beautiful late-summer cloudless sky. But you just couldn't take any more long days stuck in the house like this.

So you headed for the pool.

Robby didn't live in an HOA community because it was fancy or for the oversized houses. He lived in one for the sheer convenience of it. A clubhouse with a gym, lawnmowers that were on a regular schedule, snow shoveling taken care of. And the poolhouse was beautifully kept, just a short walk down the block past neatly trimmed hedges and identical mailboxes, and you headed there with nothing but a towel, a coverup, and a book tucked beneath your arm. Your sunglasses kept the glare from your eyes as you pushed through the gate and made your way across the concrete deck before dropping onto an empty lounger.

It was quiet for a weekend morning, and you were grateful. For a while, you did absolutely nothing. You stretched out beneath the sun, letting the warmth sink into your skin while you worked your way through a few chapters, occasionally looking up whenever someone splashed into the water or the gate clicked open. Eventually the heat became too much, and you wandered down the concrete steps into the shallow end, sighing as the cool water climbed your ankles, your calves, your thighs. You floated around for a bit without much purpose, letting your thoughts drift peacefully in and out of your head, the cold water soothing.

By the time you climbed back out, your hair damp around your shoulders, you felt marginally more human.

While you sat up and lathered on more sunscreen, you saw a family enjoying the pool on other side, a woman in the water with her children while a man lay stretched out on a lounger nearby.

Looking at you.

You stared back, recognizing him, your stomach doing a little excited jump.

You smiled to yourself, snapping the bottle of your lotion closed and standing up. You didn't bother with the cover up, or the towel.

"Good morning, John," you said as you approached, stepping beneath the shade of his umbrella.

He looked up at you over his sunglasses, dark eyes full of mirth.

"Hey, hot stuff."

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. John Shen and his family lived in the same community as Robby, just a few streets down. A friendly face you didn't get to see often, but it was always a treat when you did. Shen had a way about him that made people instantly comfortable. Cool without trying to be, calm to the point that some people thought he cared about absolutely nothing. Somehow, he never seemed stressed, even at work. While everyone else in the ED ran themselves ragged, Shen drifted through the day with an easy smile and a shrug. And an iced coffee.

Shen held out his hand, and you stepped in a little closer. His palm settled against the sensitive skin on back of your calf, the contact making your blood surge a little.

"Did you come from the hospital? Or did you have off?" you asked, hyper aware of how his fingers caressed your skin.

He nodded, "Came from work just a couple hours ago, figured I'd come down and enjoy the nice day while they last. Swear I can feel the chill of autumn creeping in."

"Don't tease me." you said, "I, for one, can't wait."

"Of course you can't, crazy woman." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth while his hand ran up, cupping behind your knee. "You always say that, then spend all winter complaining you're cold."

You laughed, shaking your head. Your gaze landed on his wife and children in the pool.

"How's Gwen?" you asked.

 All three of them were splashing around together, their laughter carrying across the water. She glanced over, spotted you standing with her husband, and immediately smiled before lifting a hand. Shen and his wife had an interesting relationship, one that allowed both of them to have their cake and eat it too, so to speak. He told you the first time he'd come into the exam room that his wife didn't mind if he occasionally saw you while he worked, and he didn't mind if she had her own time with one of the other dermatologists at her practice.

You waved back. When you looked down again, Shen's hand had found its way to the back of your thigh.

"We're good," he said. "Kids look like they're trying to drown her, but she's good."

You smiled down at him wider.

"Where've you been?" he asked then, looking up at you.

"Home, mostly." you said, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.

"Mm." he hummed, thumb brushing against the top of your thigh, close to the crease of your leg. "Robby said you're taking a break."

The thought of Robby apparently discussing your month long restrictions with the rest of the residents and attendings sent a strange little flutter through your stomach. Despite how ridiculous, your thighs pressed together automatically.

A smile appeared on Shen's face almost immediately as he glanced down between your legs, noticing the shift. His hand slid up higher, until it just brushed the hem of your bathing suit. "Miss you, it's been a while."

Your hand suddenly shot out, having to grip his bare shoulder to hold yourself up as his hand slid up to cup your bum, the tips of his fingers sliding just under the damp fabric of your suit. He squeezed the sensitive flesh in his hand, making you gasp and your knees wobble.

"Do you miss me, hot stuff?"

You nodded, pressing your lips together firmly.

"Cat got your tongue, huh?" he teased, his fingers pressing a little firmer. He had such a nice smile, charming and coy as he felt you up. He barely reacted to how sensitive you were to his wandering hand, but when your eyes dropped to his lap, you saw exactly how he felt. His swim trunks had gone noticeably tighter, a bulge stretching the fabric that made your mouth water.

"Y-yes," you managed, trying very, very hard not to let out the moan that threatened to escape when he slid his prodding fingers along the seam of your lower lips. "Miss y-you too."

"I'm sure you do," he cooed. "Can feel just how bad."

Your fingers dug into his shoulder harder, your teeth latched into your bottom lip as you let your eyes close a little when his middle finger pushed just so at your entrance.

"Too bad you're grounded. I can think of so many fun things we could be doing right now, hot stuff."and then his smile brightened in wattage, and he was pulling his hand away. "S'just a shame, isn't it?"

"Johnnnnn," you whined, stamping your foot before playfully smacking his shoulder. "You tease—"

He chuckled at that, bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean as his shoulders shook, already glancing back down at the paperwork in his hands.

"As tempting as you are, hot stuff, I'm not trying to get my ass kicked by Robinavitch. Now go be a good girl and say hi to Gwen."

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself as you turned and headed toward the pool. You heard his voice call out behind you:

"Hate to see you go, love to watch you—"

You crouched by the water, scooping up a handful and splashing it directly at him.

Robby: have to stay long. do you want to come in

The text from Robby had your stomach tightening immediately as you read it from your spot on the lounge chair a little while later, both of Shen's kids planted beside you and chatting your ear off about their summer holiday plans for Disney World. You nodded along dutifully as they argued over which park was best, but your attention snagged on the screen in your hand the second his name appeared.

You: im at the pool right now

A speech bubble appeared and disappeared while you waited, your toes curling against the warm plastic fabric stretched across the chair. You tried to focus on what Mia was telling you about Epcot, but your attention was already wandering. It always did when it came to Robby.

Then, another text from Robby: leave the suit on. come in.

"I'm sorry, you guys, I gotta go," you said, pushing yourself upright.

Both kids immediately started protesting while you laughed and bent down to hug them goodbye.

"Seriously, John, if you ever need a sitter." you said as you stretched your arms around him.

"Careful," Shen called after you as you turned to embrace his wife. "You keep saying that and we're actually gonna start taking you up on it."

Both he and his wife thanked you and hugged you goodbye, and a few minutes later you were gathering up your things and heading out.You didn’t even bother going back home or changing, knowing full well Robby loved you in your little skimpy swim suits and cover ups—sometimes more than a lacy lingerie set.

An hour later, you were walking into the ED, the AC blasting hard enough to raise goosebumps along your arms. You rubbed your hands over them as you crossed through the entrance, waving hello to Lupe at the desk. She buzzed you through without issue, and you tossed quick greetings toward Ahmad and Mike as you passed.

In the chaos of the emergency department, something felt off immediately. Though, it seemed to be dying down. Voices carried in as they shouted over one another, people burst in and out of doors while the phone rang. Monitors chirped, ranging from steady and level to chaotic fits of panic. You caught a glimpse of Samira disappearing into a trauma room with Langdon behind her with Mel and Whitaker on their heels.

Dana intercepted you before you made it halfway to the charge station.

"Hey, angel. I'm sorry. Did Robby call you in?" She hooked an arm around you and immediately started steering you toward the back hall. "As happy I am to see you, it's a bit of a mess right now."

"What happened? Is everyone okay?"

"Incident at Kennywood. Rollercoaster."

"Oh, god."

Dana grimaced while squeezing your shoulder. "Yeah."

As she turned you down a hall, she added: ""Listen, I'll stick you in a room for now. Things are settlin' down, but it could still be a while before he gets free."

"Yeah, yeah of course, D." you said.

You'd barely made it around the charge station before somebody called Dana's name from across the department.

"Shit."

"Go," you said immediately. "I'm good. I'll find my way."

"North five, angel." Dana said, pointing your way ahead. You nodded, and started walking.

Every room seem occupied the further back you went, stretchers lining the walls and IV poles clustered near doorways. It wasn't as bad as some disasters you'd heard of—Pitt Fest for one—but still. It looked rushed, blood still on the floor of an empty trauma bay. Every room seemed to hold a different injury. Teenagers with broken bones and lacerations. Parents hovering anxiously beside hospital beds. A little girl clutching a stuffed rabbit while a nurse wrapped gauze around her arm.

The emergency department always had a strange feeling to it. Grief and relief lived side by side here. In one room somebody cried. In the next, a family laughed so hard you could hear it through the curtain. It made your chest ache a little harder the further you got.

"Hey, you."

You turned at the breathless voice and found Langdon hurrying toward you, already tearing off the disposable surgical cover he'd thrown on for trauma.

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah—" He ran a hand through his hair before letting out a tired breath. "Well, no, actually, not really. But it will be."

"That's good." you said, and you were surprised to see him still following you as you kept walking. "Frank, go check on your patients, I'm good—"

"You know, I missed seeing you around here, baby."

The words stopped you—the pet name specifically had your tummy twisting a little—and Langdon guided you toward an empty strip of wall tucked away from the main traffic of the department, just enough privacy to steal a conversation.

"Don't tell me you've been neglecting your patients over a withheld reward again, Frankie."

His dimple appeared first, deepening into one cheek before the rest of the smile caught up, still a little breathless, shaking his head down at you. "No, never."

You smiled back up at him. It felt almost normal again, like it hadn't been over three weeks of you being kept away.

"Robby said you uh…"

"Yeah." you murmured, your smile slipping.

"Takin' a break from all of us then?" he asked, something amused in his pretty blue eyes.

"Just for now." you said, a little teasing lilt in your voice. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon."

"You're back now." he said, tilting his head down at you. "Does that mean…?"

You shook your head.

"Okay," he said easily, with a sort of half nod, his eyes never leaving yours. "Okay, I'll back off then. Good to see you though, baby."

Something in your chest pinched. Maybe it was because you'd spent the last month mostly at home. Maybe it was because seeing everyone again had reminded you how much of your life existed inside these walls. Or maybe you just really had missed him. Whatever the reason, you didn't let him get far before you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his middle.

"Miss you too, Frankie." you murmured into him, "always."

His arms settled around your shoulders almost immediately, pulling you in while his cheek pressed lightly against the top of your head. You felt the vibration of a chuckle thrum through him before he was gently pushing you away, "Careful, I'll start thinking you have favorites."

"Maybe I do." you grinned up at him, your eyes a little hazier than before, your skin warmer as you felt his long, lean body against yours. God, you really did miss him. The flirty, the easy affection. This was all familiar to slip back into with him.

"Don't make me want to kiss you," he murmured, squeezing you against him again. "I could get in big trouble."

A laugh threatened at the back of your throat. "Yes you could," you said softly.

You stood there with your neck craned back, looking up at him beneath hooded eyes while his blue gaze wandered across your face. His dimple deepened when he smiled. He looked exhausted. Hair slightly disheveled, scrubs wrinkled. There was dried blood on one sleeve he'd probably forgotten about hours ago. Still so pretty. So Frank.

For one second, you thought he might actually give in as his head bent down lower, his eyes dropping to your waiting mouth. But then—

"Langdon! We need you in trauma two!" Perlah shouted down the hall. Langdon glanced up, blinking back to reality, and slowly let you go.

 "I'll see you around, baby. Be good!" he called as he started backing away.

"Bye," you murmured. You lifted a hand in a lazy wave, watching him disappear down the hallway long after he'd stopped looking back.

You felt a little thrown off course from your run in with him, your blood taking a moment to run smoothly, your heart settling. The cool air that rushed into your chest made your chest squeeze, your nipples under the thin bathing suit harden. You inhaled deeply but found it hard to catch a full breath. Fuck, you were screwed if you didn't find an empty room.

Finally, you turned on your heel, north five back in your sights.

But then—

"Bunny?"

You looked to your right and found Brendon Park stepping off the elevator.

Tall was almost an inadequate word for him. Even from halfway across the hallway, he seemed to take up space effortlessly, broad shoulders filling the opening as the elevator doors slid open. The second he spotted you, his attention locked on completely. His gaze swept over you from head to toe, taking in the swimsuit cover-up, the sandals, the just dried hair, and whatever conclusion he reached made something tense in his face.

His long strides carried him toward you quickly.

"Hey—" you started, and he was bending down before you could say anything else, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"How are you? What're you doing here? Were you at the theme park?"

"What?" you asked, still trying to catch up with the speed of the interaction before glancing down at yourself. Right. You could almost look like you came from a theme park. "Oh. No, no— I'm okay. I just came from home."

The relief that crossed his face was immediate, his shoulders dropping slightly, some tension leaving him as he glanced around the department. He sent a glare to a passing doctor you didn't recognize before turning his attention right back to you.

He stepped forward into you.

You stepped back.

His brow furrowed slightly, concern still written all over his face as he looked you over again, checking for something you'd somehow forgotten to mention. The movement felt almost unconscious on both your parts. Brendon kept drifting closer, drawn in by equal parts worry and affection, and you kept retreating beneath the weight of that honed gaze, your brain already struggling to keep up.

He did it again, and again, until your hips pressed into the sharp edge of a table, a little gasp coming from your mouth as he loomed over you closer still.

“Brendon—” you said, and as he leaned down again to try to catch your lips again, you turned quickly so your back was to his chest instead. It didn’t help. If anything, it only made you more aware of how much space he took up, the broad width of him filling in behind you, his shoulders so expansive they cut off the hallway on either side. He'd always been big, big enough to overwhelm, but usually it was so easy to forget because he was so careful with you. His touch was gentle, his voice gentler. Today though—he felt too big for his own good. All that focus of his predatory stare had your heart in your throat. Maybe because you knew how easily you'd give in. It had been so long, after all.

With your back turned, hips pressing into the empty desk, you closed your eyes. The wood edge dug into your skin as he crowded closer. You shivered when you felt his strong nose brush through your hair as he bent his head, tracing slow along your neck and around the shell of your ear, inhaling.

"What's goin' on with you, bunny?" he murmured. "You're trembling."

You gasped when his lips pressed against the tender skin behind your ear, your back arching before you even realized it. Heat pooled hard, throbbing painfully between your legs, your thighs tightening together for some kind of relief while you gnawed at your bottom lip hard enough to hurt.

"N-nothing's wrong," you tried to say, but it came out thin and desperate. "I—we—I can't umm…"

It was too much, too overwhelming. Too many people touching you when you weren't allowed to do anything about it.

"Can't what, bunny?" he said softly, voice so low it sent heat down your spine, his nose tracing the shell of your ear now. "Can't just talk, hm?"

You shook your head a little. His mouth started trailing down your neck, making goosebumps rise over your skin, your nipples beneath your bathing suit top pebbling even harder and your knees wobbling.

"But I've missed you, bunny."

The words went straight in your stomach, heat coiling, core fluttering. You sighed shakily, and then he stepped even closer, and you felt him—hard beneath his cotton scrubs, pressing into the curve of your lower back.

"Oh, fuck," you whispered. "Brendon, I really can't—"

"You don't have to do anything, Bunny," he whispered back, though his kisses had already turned hungrier, firmer against your skin as they went down your neck onto your shoulder. "How've you been, hm?"

"Mmm... I've been... okay..." Your thoughts were starting to slide apart, softening so quickly you couldn't quite hold onto them.

"You smell so good," he muttered, completely ignoring your answer. "Smell a little like desperation. Robby been takin' care of you, sweet girl? Been so long since I've seen you."

Your breath stuttered. "I've been..." You forced yourself to inhale deep, trying to get oxygen back into your brain while he pressed his hips slowly against you from behind. The pressure made your core ache harder. You caught yourself trying to lean away from him just to think straight. "I've been grounded."

You felt the sharp burst of breath against your neck, almost a laugh.

"Grounded, huh?" His teeth scraped lightly against the crest of your shoulder. "What's that like?"

Your face burned. You wondered if Robby hadn't told him, or if he was just pushing all the right buttons. "No, um..." You swallowed hard. "I'm not allowed to… finish. Or be shared."

Brendon went still for half a second.

Then, finally understanding, he leaned harder into you with a low growl that sounded punched out of him.

"Is that right?" he said, and you could tell his teeth were bared, shark-like, before you even spared a glance over your shoulder. "Robby doesn't want his best girl feelin' good anymore?"

"No, it's not—not that—"

Your words broke apart when his hands slid around your hips. Big hands—warm and heavy. His fingers rubbed slowly into your skin just above the waistband of your shorts and it felt so good your stomach tightened painfully around it. You could already feel how wet you'd gotten, slick heat pooling fast between your thighs, you could've sworn you felt it starting to run down your leg.

His hands didn’t stay still for long, and fuck, they felt so good. Your mouth opened in a quiet gasp when they dragged up your front, over your stomach, beneath the loose fabric of your cover-up, his palms broad enough to make you feel held and handled at the same time. He slipped a hand of them under one the little flimsy triangles that covered your breasts, and your lungs caught. His own breath was heavy in your ear, hot and uneven against your skin, the outline of his cock pressing insistent against your back while his fingers wandered and squeezed at you.

You could hardly keep up with your mind or your body,

Your thoughts catching on how you were not supposed to be doing this, on the rules, on the fact that this was Brendon Park with his hands under your clothes, while your body arched back into him anyway, little gasps and whimpers slipping out before you could swallow them. Because it had been so long. Because it had been torturous, missing these big hands on you, missing the thick heat of him pressing into you, the way he touched you like he’d been thinking about it for weeks.

And then, his hands continued their wandering back down your stomach. And then, to your horror and complete and utter pleasure, one of his hands slipped beneath the elastic of your waistband.

"Brendon—"

"Let me check on you, bunny," he whispered, breath heavier now. "Just wanna make sure you're okay. I've missed you."

His palm slid lower beneath the lining of your bathing suit until it settled heavy against your pubic bone, and then his fingers, thick and rough with callouses, dipped carefully into the soaked seam between your legs.

"Fuckkkkk," he exhaled, like the word got dragged right out of his chest with a moan.

Your hands flew to the desk, palms flattening against scattered papers while your head dropped forward in defeat. You were grateful no one was passing by behind you, that the hallway somehow had been deserted the past few minutes. You didn't want to imagine what this looked like.

"Oh my god," you whimpered.

He was barely touching you. And yet, just the pads of two fingers circling slow through the slickness of your folds and the teasing around your clit was enough to make your brain turn to mush and your legs so weak so you could hardly stay standing.

"You're so wet I bet my cock would slide right in this pussy," he muttered, voice strained and wrecked despite the filth of his words, his hips dragging against your lower back harder in a grinding motion.

Park's fingers slid further, cupping your wet mound and prodding your entrance, his palm creating pressure for your clit, and the sharp pulse of pleasure nearly made you cry out. You had to bite into your lip hard to keep yourself from moaning at the contact, the constant ache you'd been left with cracked apart into sparks that shot all the way up your spine.

"Oh god, Brendon—"

You spread your legs obediently when his knee nudged between them.

"You don't have tell Robby, baby," he breathed against your neck. "Let me take care of you."

But hearing Robby's name again snapped through the haze hard enough to make your stomach twist.

 You stood upright so fast you felt dizzy from it. You grabbed Brendon's wrist and pulled his hand from your shorts, turning around to face him with your chest heaving. Despite how equally desperate he had seemed, he pulled away easily at your insistence.

"Brendon," you started, struggling to catch your breath, "I can't, I'm sorry."

He stared down at you, eyes blown dark with arousal, chest rising hard beneath the fabric stretched over his shoulders. You could still feel his thick length in the tent of his scrubs against your belly, could still see his mouth swollen from kissing at your skin. You held onto his thick hand for a moment in between the two of you to stop him. It glistened with arousal along his two fingers.

And just when you opened your mouth to explain, you heard a voice from the end of the hallway.

"Well, hello."

You turned, and your stomach nearly fell to the floor.

Black t-shirt stretched across heavy muscle. Graying curls mussed at the front. Narrowed hazel eyes fixed on Park, his jaw set so hard beneath the shadow of stubble his muscle twitched.

"Abbot." Brendon said curtly, not moving from where he stood with his chest up against yours, his eyes honed in like a predator's.

Jack walked forward, until he was only a couple paces from you. His gaze bounced around your face, then up to Brendon's. There was a faint curve to his mouth, something cheeky and almost amused, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"All okay, sweetheart?" Jack asked when his eyes found you again.

You nodded, suddenly very aware of how close Park was, of warm skin, his heart hammering in his chest up against yours. The way neither of your bodies hadn’t quite calmed down. You could only imagine what this looked like—your mouth parted and heaving, Park's chest pressed up against you.

 "I was gonna grab coffee from Dunkin'." Jack said, "You wanna come?'

You looked between him and Brendon then, uncertain.

"We were having a discussion, Abbot." Brendon then said sternly.

Jack smiled, a charming dimple creasing one of his cheeks, though there was still something in his gaze—something intense and sharp that you'd never seen before. "And I'm sure it was very enlightening."

There was a stiffness to the both of them now, even as Jack shifted his weight from foot to foot, his hands in his cargo pockets. The way Brendon wouldn't move, the way Jack's smile twitched when he looked between the two of you.

"C'mon, sweetheart," Jack offered, pulling one hand from his pocket and beckoning you.

Park's arm immediately slid around your middle, pulling you against him even harder. You looked up at him, suddenly the intensity of his nickname rang true— he looked scary, serious, his face darkening as he looked over at the attending.

"She's fine, Abbot, we were just talking."

When you glanced at Jack, all amusement fell from his face.

"Brendon," you murmured, sighing and looking back up at him.

You lifted your hands up into his chest, sliding them up until your fingers gently pressed into his face, turning it towards you. You saw him soften immediately as his eyes landed back on you.

You rose up onto your toes and kissed him softly on the mouth. You could feel his arm tighten even more against you as he breathed you in, his shoulders dropping. When you finally drew back, his mouth followed yours until you fell back onto your heels.

"Not today, okay?" you murmured, wiping some of the chap stick from his top lip, "I need to sort a few things out first. But I promise, you'll be the first to know when things are back to normal."

He sighed, and threw a mean glare at Jack once more before loosening his grip, though his hands stayed on you, guiding you down.

And finally, when he turned away, it was not without lingering his hands on you for as long as possible—his hands slid down your arms, holding the tips of your fingers as he said, "See you around, Bunny. Be good."

You smiled as you watched him go.

And then, turning around with a long exhale, you looked at Jack.

You'd never seen him look like that before.

There was no smile waiting for you or easy charm, no teasing remark halfway from his mouth. Instead, his brows were set low over his eyes, his jaw still tight like he was close to cracking a molar. He stared down the hall where Park had vanished, his gaze fixed on the empty stretch of tile and fluorescent light with an expression you'd never seen on his face. Mean. You didn't think you'd ever seen Jack Abbot look mean before.

"Jack?"

He shook his head and inhaled sharply, gnawing at the inside of his lip like he was trying to stop himself from saying something he knew he shouldn't. When his eyes landed on you, you watched them travel over your face, down your form, and back up again before he jerked his head toward the main ED.

"C'mon."

When you reached him, his hand settled lightly against your back, guiding you a few steps away from the flow of people moving through the department, toward the wall where a computer on wheels sat parked with its screen dimmed and a Esme was organizing a linen cart.

"I—um—I'm supposed to go meet Robby."

Jack paused. He looked down at you for a second, and suddenly you were far too aware of how close he was standing, of the heat of him even through scrubs, of how the space between you wasn’t really space at all. God. You hated this. You hated how seeing him still did this to you, how your heart immediately started acting up, how three weeks apparently hadn’t been enough time for your mind or your body to understand what you'd done was wrong. That you shouldn't want it again.

"Robby's in a trauma," he said.

"Yeah, I'm..." You swallowed. "I'm gonna go wait for him in North Five."

"Okay."

"Okay..."

You started to turn away.

The whole interaction felt wrong. Just wrong. Three weeks ago you'd been tangled up in each other in a way neither of you had planned for, and now it felt like neither of you knew what to say, how to say it. How to be in each other's presence and not think about it.

"Hey."

You’d only gotten an arm’s length away before it stopped you, and when you turned back, he was still standing exactly where you’d left him, his shoulders squared, his jaw set. He let out a slow breath through his nose and took a few steps closer, one hand settling on his hip while he looked you over.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you?" you asked, your voice maybe a little too defensive.

His head tipped back slightly, eyes never leaving your face. You worried for a moment that he'd give himself trismus with how much he was clenching the muscles of his jaw. He seemed to be weighing the answer, deciding how much of it he wanted to give you. "Been better."

"Yeah, same." you sighed.

Jack looked at you a little closer now, and it made your breath shorten. You wished he wasn't so handsome. You wished being this close didn't remind you of a month ago in the back of his truck, memories of your face in his chest with tears in your eyes, him kissing you, both of you crossing a line you even though you knew better. You wished you could forget how easy it felt with him too.

"You seem…" he began. "Was Park being—?"

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I’m just feeling really… I don’t know.” You sighed again, your hands coming up to your face, palms pressing against your cheeks, trying to steady yourself, but the overwhelm kept building anyway, tight in your throat and at the base of your neck, your heartbeat too fast and too loud. “It’s fine.”

“Some of us have been… a little restless, I guess,” he said, voice low, his head dipping as he looked at you, his gaze staying on your face in a way that felt careful instead of hungry. “Three weeks is a long time.”

"Yeah," you huffed sarcastically, "You're tellin' me."

He looked at you a little funny.

"I gotta go but… I'm fine. I guess. Yeah. Thanks…um… Jack. I'll see you."

"Okay, sweetheart. See you."

Luckily you didn't have to sit alone in your thoughts for long.

Robby found you in north five soon enough, and even though he looked exhausted—even though the crease between his brows was deep and feathered and his eyes had that look of a long, awful day full of cases he'd remember for life—he still smiled when he saw you.

"Hi, honey," he sighed, and opened his arms for you to fall into.

You went to him, your hands sliding up around the back of his neck, rising to your tiptoes so you could tuck your face into his chest, and he let out a breath that sounded like it had been stuck in him for hours. His arms wrapped around you and held you, swaying a little back and forth in place, his weight shifting in the muffled quiet of the exam room.

For some reason, some sixth sense, some thing that had been learned after all your time with him, you knew this was what he needed. He was particular about touch outside of this—he didn't accept hugs from most, or even a high five. He kept his praise quick and detached with his staff typically with a simple thumbs up or fist bump (though, you knew there was one person other than you who was the exception to that). But with you… it was like you were the only touch that was safe for him to fall into.

And though you craved touch, not even just from him but from everyone you knew—a hug with a friend, a hand on the small of the back, a bumping of shoulders in comradery, and the explicit kind too— there was something deeply sentimental about the touch from Robby's hands. When the two of you fell into each other, it formed a nucleus from the outside world. Nothing else existed now that he was here and holding you. The noise of the day outside the four walls of the exam room simply paused.

You felt his nose sink into your hair, inhaling, "How are you."

"M'okay," you murmured. "You?"

"Yeah." he said softly.

You squeezed him a little tighter.

After a moment, you said: "Robby?"

"Yeah, honey?" he asked.

"I feel like I'm going a little crazy."

He pulled away, only enough so he was still holding you in his arms but able to look down at you and study your face. His brows pulled together for a long moment while he did, assessing for anything really wrong. You felt his thumbs rubbing back and forth over the sheer fabric of your cover up.

"How so?"

You shut your eyes, breathing deeply, trying to collect yourself. You weren't sure why, but you felt almost like you wanted to cry. When you opened them again, Robby's eyes were still focused on you, his expression full of careful attention.

"I feel like I've barely been here an hour and I'm just so—" you shook your head, releasing your hands from his neck to cover your eyes, pressing your fingertips deeply into the sockets. Bright galaxies burst across your vision, and you inhaled again, steadying the whirring of your brain as you tried to think of the right words. "Everyone is being so sweet, trying to take care of me—"

"—take care of you?"

"—but I just feel so fucking overwhelmed, and I don't know how to tell them that I can't—"

"—they should already know to leave you alone—"

"I just want to go home, but I also really don't—because I miss everyone—but still—" you snapped, "I just want to stop feeling so fucking crazy."

"Okay, breathe, please—" he said, his hands sliding from your back to your shoulders, soothing up and down on your skin.

You opened your eyes again, letting your hands drop, sucking in a shaky breath and looking up at him.

"First of all," he said, his voice low and soothing, "I'm sorry I called you to come in on such a crazy day. I… I selfishly thought of having you here, wanting you after all this bullshit and I didn't think about the others seeing you."

"Well, they saw me." You shrugged. "I even ran into John at the pool with his family."

Robby tilted his head, "Did Shen—?"

You shook your head, "We just said hi, that's all. He said he didn't want to get in trouble. Langdon said so too."

Robby nodded, "Good, good."

"But I miss them." you murmured, your eyes wide and watery up at Robby.

"I know, honey."

"And…" you hesitated, but knew it was better to just tell him. "I feel like you're getting such a good fucking deal out of the past few weeks and I'm not. I feel fucking crazy, Michael."

He sighed, squeezing your arms a little tighter, his face with an expression of knowing that you don't want to hear. "Do you know why we've been doing this the past few weeks? Denying you?"

You let your head fall back on your neck with a little groan, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I went behind your back, I crossed a boundary. And it's fine, I understand—I just didn't think my body would be so fucking wound tight like this—"

"Okay, I hear you, c'mere," Robby cooed immediately, gently guiding both of you to the hospital bed in the center of the room.

You went without thinking about it, shuffling across the mattress until he could pull you into him. It dipped beneath your combined weight as he settled you on his lap, one arm wrapping securely around your waist while the other came up to cradle the back of your head. You let yourself sink against him completely, legs falling open around the large breadth of his body—hips to hips, chest to chest, your face tucked into the side of his neck where his skin was warm from a long day. His fingers slipped into your hair automatically, fingertips scratching lightly against your scalp while the steady rise and fall of his breathing moved beneath your cheek.

"Okay," he murmured, pressing his mouth briefly to your temple. "Tell me more."

"No, because—" Your voice caught unexpectedly. The burn seared in your throat even worse than before, your eyes prickling, your chin wobbling in a way that only made you more frustrated.

"It's so stupid." You swallowed hard. "You're here saving fucking lives and actually doing something, and I'm sitting here complaining because people..." A humorless laugh escaped you. "People like me too much."

The laugh that left him was soft, so fond that it made you want to hide your face even further. "Oh, honey."

You pushed your lips together to keep yourself from really beginning to weep, croaking out: "Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing at you."

"I know." you admitted, inhaling a deep, shaky breath.

His hand continued moving through your hair, smoothing it back from your face before trailing down your spine in slow strokes.

"I understand what you're saying," he said gently. "But let's not compare apples to oranges, okay? Somebody else's problems don't make yours disappear. If something's upsetting you, it's upsetting you. I want you to tell me these things."

You let out a long breath into his shoulder, your body settling a little heavier against him, his heartbeat steady under your cheek, something you could focus on. His fingers kept moving, combing through the strands at the nape of your neck. For a few minutes, it was just this. His arms around you, your tears drying, your breath coming back to you.

He felt you begin to relax against him and then, his voice gentle and a little raspy: "I have an idea. I know you've been a little pent up, huh? Feeling a little overwhelmed?"

He had a certain way to his voice, a lilt that could always lull you into feeling comforted and yet completely wrapped around his finger. There was a gentleness to him, a softness, a patience. So much so that even without the special set up— the shampoo and the body wash and perfume or even braid in your hair—it had a funny way of making your brain turn to mush when he sounded like that.

You nodded.

"Can you come up a little for me, honey?"

You could do just about anything when he spoke to you like that.

His hands slid beneath your thighs and guided you higher against him, pulling you closer so your chest was up against his clavicle, your nose brushing up into his hair. You breathed him in automatically, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with hospital and the lingering traces of a shift that had gone on far too long. Beneath you, you felt him shifting, heard the quiet rustle of fabric and the metallic sound of a zipper being tugged down.

The realization of what he was doing sent a fresh wave of heat through you. You began to whine a little at the feeling of it. Of him, against your thigh, his member warm and throbbing.

God, you felt so fucking desperate.

"Think this'll help us both relax a little, hm?" he murmured against your arm.

You nodded feverishly, and his mouth brushed your shoulder with a soft kiss in answer while his hands worked patiently. He helped you out of your cover up and your shorts, untying your bathing suit bottoms since your coordination seemed to have abandoned you entirely. You lifted your hips when he needed you to, shifted your legs where he guided them, letting him take care of the details while your forehead rested against the pillow.

"Aw, honey," he cooed, "you're soaked."

You whined a little more, petulant and impatient for him.

"Okay, okay," he soothed, "I know." And as he brought you back down into his lap, inhaling with a hiss through his teeth, the blunt head of his length pressed at your entrance. "Nice deep breath for me, honey."

You did as bid, and then, on your long sighing exhale, he pushed into you completely. Robby let out a low, strained groan that dragged up from his chest, his head tipping back against the thin pillows as his grip tightened at you. Your mouth opened in a gasp around his neck, a mewling whine falling from your lips.

"Ohhh…" you sighed, wriggling your hips a little to get him even deeper.

"Sh, sh, no moving—" he croaked lazily, his hands going to your hips to still you. "Just stay like that."

Your mouth, opened and wanton, found the side of his neck again, kissing and dragging, wet and searching, your tongue pressing along the line of his carotid while your teeth caught lightly at the skin there. He tasted like sweat, like his aftershave, his skin sensitive and thin around his beard. He hummed appreciatively at the feeling.

"Okay, now tell me what's goin on," he finally said once the two of you settled in. He didn't move his hips, but you could feel the involuntary twitching of his cock inside you every now and then. You were wet enough that it spread everywhere, slick between your thighs, warm where it gathered and slipped down over his balls that fit snug against you and dampening the sheets beneath. It made you ache for movement, for more, your walls clenching around him in want, but you held still, your hands gripping at him instead.

You let out a gurgled sound, your lips swollen and tongue still laving at his neck.

"What, are you suddenly too cock drunk to have a conversation, honey?" he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Feels… sooo… mmm…" you hummed, the words trailing off as your legs tightened around his on the bed without thinking, the shift pressing you down on him, forcing him deeper. The reaction was immediate—both of you letting out a louder sound this time, your breath catching while his grip snapped tighter, his hands closing hard under your ass, fingers digging in deep enough to sting.

"No. Moving." he gritted out.

"Yes, Robby," you sighed obediently, the name slipping out soft against his skin.

He hummed pleasantly again.

"Tell me what…" you started, but your voice drifted, your mouth still pressed to his neck as your thoughts slipped, the feeling of him filling you pulling your focus under again, your body tightening around him in small, needy pulses you couldn’t quite control. "...What happened with your day."

You felt a little boneless on top of him, your kisses becoming slower, more gentle, until you were only pressing your lips into his beard. He let out a long breath, his hands easing their grip, sliding up your back, then back down in slow passes, smoothing over your skin.

"There was a bad incident at Kennywood."

"Dana told me," you murmured, your eyes blinking open a little, your voice quieter now as you listened, trying to stay with him.

He nodded against the pillow, his jaw shifting under your cheek. "It’s always… the worst when…" He paused, breath catching slightly, like he had to push the rest out. "When it’s kids."

You nodded, understanding.

"I don't wanna talk about my day," he suddenly said, though his voice was still low and gentle, "I wanna hear about yours."

You shook your head, closing your eyes again. You moved a little on the bed.

"Stop squirming so much, honey, I know what you're up to—"

You smiled into his neck. But then you heard his pager go off.

He groaned under you, his head tipping back as he reached blindly toward the bedside table, fingers fumbling for it before bringing it up to his ear. "Robinavitch, I'm busy—oh—hey."

You resumed your soft, leisurely kisses to his neck, praying he wasn't being called out into the fray again. He felt so warm, so good here. You felt so full and content, your mind still hazy and soft, lips swollen and warm against his skin.

"Yeah, hang on—" He pulled the pager away from his ear, turning his head so his mouth brushed against your hair. "Honey—"

"Mm?" you hummed, your lips still moving against his throat.

"It's Jack."

That snapped the rubberband of your brain back to yourself, eyes opening immediately, your head lifting back and your body going still on top of him.

"It's okay, it's okay—" Robby soothed quickly, one hand coming up to steady you where you’d pulled back. He shook his head a little, his expression holding. "He wants to know if he can come check on you. He said you had a hell of a day."

Your brows pulled together as you looked down at him, your hands planted on his chest, the feeling of him connected to you more heightened as you sat back on top of him.

"And… you’re…okay with that?"

His jaw tightened a little, the muscle jumping beneath his beard, but it didn’t settle into anything sharp this time. Something else passed through his face instead, quieter, held in check. "Yeah, it's okay."

You stared at him for another moment, unmoving.

"I promise," he added, his thumb brushing once along your hip. "But if you don’t want him to come in, it can just be me and you."

You worried your lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping briefly to the pager still in his hand, then back to him. There was a small, stretched pause before he lifted it again and brought it up to your ear instead.

You watched him the whole time, and he only nodded when it touched your skin. You didn't take the phone from him, only let him hold it up to you.

"Jack?" you murmured.

"Hi, sweetheart."

His voice was soothing through the device, rough and hoarse and sultry—Robby's lips twitched, not naive to the feeling of your body reacting to the sound of it. You pictured him just as you saw him a little while ago, though in your minds eye, his face had softened, his shoulders were dropped, that intense look long gone.

"Hi," you whispered, "Are you coming in to say hi?"

"Only if you want me to."

Your eyes flicked back to Robby, searching again, and he gave you another small nod, steady this time.

"Okay."

Robby took the pager back, bringing it to his ear again, his gaze not leaving your face. "North five," he said. "Don’t let anyone follow you in."

There was a beat, a quiet exchange on the other end you couldn’t hear, and then Robby lowered the pager, setting it back onto the bedside table without looking away from you.

"C'mere." he said, pulling you into him once again.

You went easily, folding into his chest, your arms tucking in between you where there was barely space, your cheek settling against him. A million questions ran through your head, but they felt quieted by Robby's arms around you, his lips at the top of your head. The way you couldn't help but notice his length swelling more inside of you.

Only a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Robby reached for the hospital blanket without moving you too much, dragging it up and over your back, tucking it around your hips with one hand while the other stayed firm around you.

"Yeah," he called.

The door opened, and with it came a brief rush of noise from the floor—voices, monitors beeping somewhere down the hall, the squeak of shoes—before it cut off again as the door clicked shut.

"Hey," came Jack’s voice from across the room.

You lifted your head slightly from where it had been tucked into Robby’s neck, turning just enough to look over your shoulder. Jack stood near the door in his the same clothes, black t-shirt pulled tight across his chest and arms, cargos sitting low on his hips, his stethoscope looped around his neck, badge clipped at his belt.

Robby looked at him without expression, merely acknowledging him, before his attention dropped back to you. "I’m gonna let him come say hi, okay?"

You nodded against him. You didn’t see it, but you felt the shift in Robby as he looked up, giving Jack a small nod, a subtle tilt of his head that brought him closer.

Jack’s steps weren’t loud, and you felt him before you saw him, the space beside the bed changing, his presence close enough that you didn’t have to turn to know he was there. His hand came to your back, so broad and warm, and calloused even through your sheer cover up, moving slowly over your shoulder blades, back and forth in an easy rhythm.

"You doing better now, sweetheart?" he murmured.

"Mhm," you hummed.

"D'you tell Robby about your day?"

You shook your head. There was a pause that hung for a second, quiet but noticeable as the two of them looked at each other over you.

"Do you want me to tell Robby?"

You hesitated, your fingers shifting where they rested against Robby's chest, and then you nodded again. You didn’t have it in you to say much—your mouth parted like you might, but the words didn’t come, your focus slipping instead. Your body stayed tuned to both of them, fully aware of Jack there now, of the shift he brought into the space, but you didn’t let the nerves of a changing dynamic pull you away from that soft space in your mind you'd found only moments before. Your eyes moved between them briefly, a little slower, a little softer, before dropping again, your lashes lowering as you settled against Robby.

"S’okay, honey," he said beneath you, his hand coming up to smooth your hair back, tucking a piece behind your ear. "We can talk about it in a little. I wanna show Jack how good of a girl you are first. Is that okay?"

You tightened your hold again. You felt quieted, pacified by Robby's comforting hold, your brain still a little fuzzy despite the other presence in the room.

"She okay?" Jack asked.

"Oh, yeah," Robby answered knowingly, his voice low, that same rough gentleness in it as his hand drifted down your back again. "She gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. This helps." He glanced up at Jack. "Go grab the stool, I’ll show you."

You heard Jack move, the roll of the stool’s wheels against the floor, the faint creak as he settled onto it somewhere beside the bed, though you couldn’t see exactly where. You glanced back anyway, just enough to catch him watching you, a small smile pulling at his mouth when he caught your gaze.

"I’m gonna talk to Jack now, okay, honey?" Robby murmured close to your ear, his lips brushing your hair as he spoke. "If you have anything to add, you can. Don’t worry about being shy."

Your thoughts felt even slower now as your focus narrowed down to the way your body sat on his, your legs still spread around his hips, the stretch of him inside you constant and full. When he pulled the blanket back, the air hit your skin, cool against the warmth you'd created, and it made everything feel heightened for a second before it settled back into that same hazy heat. Beneath you, you felt him react again, a slow swell, a small pulse that made your stomach draw tight.

Jack swore under his breath when the blanket dropped, and you watched him through heavy lids as his gaze lowered, fixed between you and Robby, on the place where you were joined.

"She's a good girl, brother." Robby said seriously.

"Yeah," Jack said, the edge in his voice gone quieter, more focused. "Yeah, she is."

"Jack." Robby’s tone shifted when he said it—flat, deliberate. There was a pause as he waited until Jack looked at him fully before continuing. "I want you to understand what you’re asking for."

Jack's jaw tightened a little at that, his expression a little more serious.

"This isn't just fucking around for fun." Robby said with a tightness to him, carefully stern. "It's a dynamic that only works because what’s underneath it is solid. Because at the end of the day, this what actually matters."

Jack didn't say anything.

"Her and I work because we want the same things," Robby went on. "Trust, for one. There’s no wondering where the line is, no second-guessing it. And when something crosses it—" his eyes flicked to you for half a second, then back, "—we deal with it."

Jack's lips pursed. You squirmed a little in Robby's hold, but he went on anyway.

"There are rules her and I both follow. She knows she can trust me, and, though it may look different to the outside, she has all the control here."

"Even if you give the okay?" Jack asked, more direct now.

Robby nodded, "The only way this works is with her okay. She is the one letting me make that call. She gives it all to me, and tells me when she wants things or doesn't. She's a good girl because she willingly hands me the responsibility to take care of her, to know her best, to understand and let her be exactly who she is without question."

You weren’t sure why, but again, your throat began to tighten. You closed your eyes, pressing your face into Robby’s neck, disappearing there. It was strange, hearing them talk about you like that, like you weren’t right there between them—but it didn’t feel bad. If anything, it settled somewhere deeper, somewhere steady and comforting. You'd never heard Robby explain your dynamic to anyone, it was just something that came to be between you, something that both of you understood and needed. Even through hours of conversation, of open talks of wants and needs and dreams and desires, you'd never heard it put like this before.

"Do you remember, a few years ago, when…"

"When you planned that ego-death trip to Head Smashed In?" Jack said, a quiet amused note to his answer.

Robby nodded slightly beneath you. You’d heard about that before, it was right before you knew him, before any of this.

"I don’t think…" he started, his hand moving slow up your back, then settling there firmly again. "I don’t think I could’ve come back from that and been where I am now without this. Without her."

Your grip on Robby tightened. His arms came around you a little tighter too.

"I’m telling you all this, Jack," he went on, his voice steady again, "because if you want in, you need to understand it’s not just about getting your rocks off—"

"—I never said that was—"

"I know. But you also need to understand its not about stealing her from me, either." Robby cut in, the words heavy, as if said through bared teeth. It made you squirm again in his hold, your body clenching down and him twitching inside of you, the place between you so wet and sensitive and swollen it made your hips begin to tingle.

But then Robby’s words finally clicked in your head, and you lifted your face from his neck, pulling back just enough to look between them. "Wait—"

"I’m not looking to steal anything," Jack went on, shaking his head, his voice rougher now, less smooth than usual. "I want— fuck…" He broke off, dragging a hand down his face, fingers pressing over his mouth before he dropped it and leaned forward, elbows braced on the bed, his head dipping for a second.

You shifted again, sitting up a little more, your chest pulling away from Robby’s as you reached for Jack, your hand sliding into his hair without thinking. He reacted right away, his hand coming up to hold yours there, pressing it lightly against his head, still not looking up, his grip steady like he didn’t want you to pull away.

But when he did, the look on his face almost made you cry in earnest. There was so much there—a yearning, a loss, a sadness. And yet, so much want it made your chest feel like it cracked in two.

"You're… joining us?" you asked softly.

He took the hand you had in his hair and brought it down, guiding it to his face until your palm cupped his cheek, the rough shadow of his beard dragging lightly against your skin.

"Is that something you’d like to try?" he asked, quieter now.

You nodded, your thumb moving along the edge of his cheekbone before you could stop yourself. And when you did, he turned his face fully into your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm, his lips warm, lingering as his eyes stayed on yours before they slid back to Robby.

"I saw Park cornering her today," he said, the words coming out a little tighter, "It made me feel insane. How do you… how does that part work?"

Robby let out a small breath through his nose, something almost amused under it, even as his hand stayed firm at your side.

"I mean, right now, it pisses me off," he said plainly. "Because he's supposed to know better. They're supposed to ask first." Robby said. There was a dry edge to it, an annoyance even as his cock jumped inside of you. Then his attention came back to you. "What did he do, honey?"

You gnawed on your lip, and Jack rolled the stool so you could see them both at once. He sat on Robby’s right, angled toward the bed, his forearms braced on his thighs as he looked up at you. And from that angle, being split over Robby's member that was pulsing and swelling, feeling both of their eyes on you, it had your stomach clenching.

"Oooh—" Robby choked slightly, his hands tightening at your hips to hold you still, his grip still firm as he felt the change in you. "What is it?"

You smiled a little, reaching forward now for Jack, your fingers carding through the top of his graying hair, pushing it back. "I like this view."

Both of them chuckled a bit at that. But Robby's hands tightened on your hips again, "Tell me about Dr. Park, honey. It's time we talk about it now."

You let your hand fall from Jack’s curls, both of your palms coming to rest flat against Robby’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing under your touch.

"He… um…" You glanced at Jack, then back to Robby, your fingers curling a little in Robby's shirt. "We ran into each other in the hall, and he was worried I was at Kennywood too. But then he—." Your face went warm. "He said he missed me, he starting touching me—" You swallowed, eyes dropping for a second. "I think I just got overwhelmed."

"Do you miss him too?"

You bit your lip hard enough it hurt, your eyes dropping for a second before you went on. "Yes. But... I don’t know if it’s just because it’s been so long."

Robby nodded once, not interrupting, just watching you.

Jack hadn’t moved, his gaze fixed on you.

"He… he tried to—um—finger me—"

The word caught on the way out of your mouth, your voice hitching as Robby’s hips jerked up under you sharply. The movement made you gasp, your body tightening, your hands pressing harder into his chest.

Jack’s eyes flicked between you both, trying to take it all in—the dynamic, the shift of the room moment by moment.

"I didn’t let him," you rushed on, your voice thinner now. "He touched me and I was—I was getting so close too fast, but I couldn’t—I knew you’d be mad. That I was grounded."

"Grounded?" Jack asked, his brow pulling slightly.

You nodded. He looked to Robby, and Robby answered without looking away from you.

"After your little run-in," he said, calm, measured, "we adjusted things for a few weeks. Other than the no sharing, she's not allowed to finish."

"Fuck." Jack whispered.

You didn’t even realize you were moving at first. It was small, almost unconscious—your hips shifting against him, a slow, shallow rock that dragged him deeper each time. It built gently, the light press of your clit against the thatch of hairs at the base of him creating a delicious friction. Your body leaned into it before your mind caught up, your breath starting to change as it settled into a rhythm. Robby didn't seem to want to stop you this time, he just let you gently rock back and forth.

"How did it feel, honey?" he croaked, his eyes changed to a narrowed, hungry gaze as he watched you. "Having Park's fingers on you after so long?"

"Felt so good," you whispered, "too good."

"Fuck." Jack said again, but this time, it was hoarse with a thick arousal. "When I saw…" he went on, swallowing thickly. Your eyes flickered to him.

"I only saw you after the fact, but his fingers were—they were wet and I didn't realize—" Jack's hand was on his lap, tightening around the inside of his thigh. You licked your lips, rocking your hips harder against Robby now.

"I kissed him too, Robby—I'm sorry—" you moaned out louder now, pressing down harder, chasing that friction now as Robby's hands pushed you down onto him further, his lip beginning to curl back.

"I wanted to punch him." Jack growled.

You gasped, mewling at the feeling now, Robby's cock punching deeper inside you as he dipped his hips and pushed back in.

"Seeing you up against Park like that, all pushed into him—fuck—" Jack groaned, tightening his hand on his cargo pants where you could see a little stain of precome through his pants. "Robby, brother—pull down her—"

He didn't even have to finish the sentence before Robby was reaching up and yanking the little triangles of your bathing suit aside, your breasts falling, nipples peaking at the cold air. The fabric cut into your skin around the globes, so they were more pressed together as your mouth hung open, watching both of them through heavy lids. Jack groaned in what almost sounded like pain as his hand tightened around his growing bulge.

"Take it out—" Robby commanded to the attending, "Do it—"

Jack didn't hesitate, He unzipped his cargos, pushed them down to just the mid thigh, and pulled his thick cock out.

"I see what you meant, honey—" Robby quipped with a breathless little smile as he punched up into you again. "When you said he felt big—"

Jack let his head fall back onto his neck a little, but his lips quirked into a breathless little smile, "You two—you two gossiping about me?"

You nodded, "I told him you felt so big inside me, Jack, how good it— your cock—oh god," you mewled.

Your features pinched together at the feeling of tightening in your spine, hips beginning to cramp.

"No, no, no—honey—don't you fucking dare—" Robby demanded, his teeth bared up at you.

"What?" Jack whimpered. You watched his wide grip wrap around his throbbing shaft, the glistening bead of arousal growing at the reddened tip. He used it, sliding the slick with his thumb over the head of his cock while he watched you bounce on Robby.

"She wants to come—" Robby said, though it was mean, a groan, a chastising.

"Fuck it, let her—"

"No—" Robby growled.

"Pleaseeeeeeeee…" you mewled, tears beginning to blur your eyes so you could hardly see Jack, how his jaw unhinged and his body slumping over as he fisted his cock faster.

"No." Robby barked, even as his thrusts became uneven. "Hold it."

Your face pulled into a wailing grimace, the pain in your belly, your spine, of holding it back.

"Breathe, sweetheart, just breathe—" Jack soothed, coming back to himself a little, his voice hoarse and desperate and yet soothing, "easier if you don't tighten up so much, just breathe through the feeling, it's just a wave—"

You did as he said, pulling in a deep breath, trying to force your hips to settle, to loosen, and Robby’s eyes widened as he watched you. Then he was groaning low, pushing you down onto himself with one last thrust. Oh, fuck, that’s so good— he moaned, his voice breaking as you felt him fill you with long ropes of thick, hot, spend, your thighs starting to shake from it.

You heaved in long, slow breaths as you whined from the denial, your eyes locked on Jack as he worked himself faster, his mouth parted, breath coming rougher. But instead of folding in on himself, he shifted, pushing his knees wider, leaning back in the chair just enough to hold himself there, his body straining. The noises he made were shallow, deep, a desperate string of curses, of your name.

"Come, Jack, please—please come for me—" you begged, your voice catching as your hips started to move again over Robby.

"God, doesn’t she beg so fucking pretty?" Robby said, breathless, his hands coming up to push your breasts together in his broad hands.

"Yes, God yes, oh fuck—oh fuck—look at me, sweetheart, that's it, look at me when I—" Jack moaned, but the words cut off into a long, strained groan, his brows pulling tight as he came, thick spurts hitting your thigh and his hand, his fist working himself through the overwhelming euphoria.

All three of you were full of breath for a long moment, your hips still tight with the loss of any relief. But you sighed dreamily still, drawing your finger through the milky come along your thigh. Both of them watched you in silence as you lifted it, your lips closing around your fingertip, sucking the salty spend clean. You pulled it out with a small pop, glancing between them with a faint, sheepish smile at the way they were staring.

"Jesus," Robby huffed.

"Yeah." Jack responded.

And then, like it caught up to them all at once, Jack pushed up from the stool, grabbing a few paper towels, wiping his hand off quickly before tucking himself back into his cargo pants. He zipped up, turned back, and stepped in closer again, holding out the towels just as you started to lift yourself from Robby’s lap.

"Thank you," you said softly, taking them.

He didn’t step away. If anything, he closed the space, his hand coming to your elbow, steadying you as you shifted, your legs still a little unsteady. Behind you, Robby moved too, rolling off the bed, one hand still at your side. For a second, both of them had their hands on you at once: close, warm, grounding as you settled back down onto the bed, the paper towels tucked beneath you.

As you sat there, feeling the slow, sticky release from between your legs, you looked up at them. They were looking at each other now, something silent passing between them. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

"So…" you began.

Both of them looked at you from either side of the bed.

"Is this like… going to be normal? How is this going to work?"

Robby sighed, looking at his fellow attending. Both of them still were wordless as they watched each other, as if sizing the other up even after your shared moment.

"Oh, I know," you said, softer now. Your hands came up, one to each of them—Robby back in his black hoodie, the fabric worn and soft under your palm, and Jack’s bare arm, warm under your fingers. They both looked down at you then, both of them a little quieter, a little more open than you were used to seeing. You looked back at Jack.

"Why don't you come for dinner?" you said. "Maybe next week?" Your eyes flicked to Robby. "Would that be okay?"

Robby made a sort of frown, thinking.

But it was Jack who spoke first, "That sounds great, sweetheart."

"And for now, let’s just… go on as normal. Think about what we actually want. We can just… take it slow."

Jack tipped his head down a little, a small smile pulling at his mouth. "That sounds nice." He came closer to you, brushing a kiss to your temple, but you caught him before he could pull away, your hand coming up to his face, your fingers settling along his jaw, holding him there.

When you glanced back to Robby, you saw he was smirking now, watching the two of you with a renewed light ignited behind his eyes.

You looked back at Jack once again, and your focus dropped to his lips.

"I think I deserve a real kiss goodbye," you said softly. "Don’t you think, Robby?"

Robby let out a quiet laugh, folding his arms across his chest. "I think you do. She was such a good girl, after all, Abbot."

Jack huffed a breath of a laugh, his mouth twitching before he leaned in the rest of the way.

"Anything for our best girl." he said, before pressing his lips to yours.

end note (so not to have spoilers): so much love and adoration for my friend court (@pearlessance) !!!! thank you for letting me pluck the idea of split custody from your beautiful brain!

thank you so much for reading!!!

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“you always miss her, but she’s sleepy..” you say into your pillow, though Jack knows you better than that. he feels you grind against his hand as he works his fingers into you. “i know she is, she’s also a little sticky,” he perks a brow, pulling his cock out and stroking long and slow. “i won’t wake her up too bad. just wanna give her a lil hug. is that ok momma?”

you giggle softly at the word, the word he uses when he’s really trying to goad something out of you. “mm…i guess. only a small hug, though. just the tip.” fuck. “okay, just the tip. you can go back to sleep baby, i’ll be nice.” he’ll be nice alright.

it’s only when he’s thrusting his tip inside you, soaking his cock and watching your pussy clench around him each time, that he thinks about not being nice. gripping your love handles, brows pinched and lip tucked between his teeth watching you stretch around him, even if it’s just his tip.

“fuck baby, feels so good..” he’d mutter into the room, hearing you sleepily whine and mewl from the side. and he wants to keep this going. doesn’t want to disturb his sleepy girl, who was so kind enough to bless him with her tight pussy. but you just feel too good baby, way too good. he can’t take it.

he’s wiping a tear from his eye with his shoulder, the small groans turning into needy whines, stroking the length that was left without any love from you. he leans up a little watch you face, seeing how your brows crease with the little bit of pleasure, and how you’ve been playing with your clit under the cover the whole time. you probably want it too, pumpkin.

he doesn’t give it much thought after that, sweeping your hair off your neck and taking a light hold of it in his hand, gripping your waist and bending you the tiniest but forward. you don’t even have time to think about the action, because in the split second that it registers, he’s pushing his fat, long dick in you until he can’t anymore, your eyes shooting open you as your senses are intruded upon.

“oh-hooh fu—” you can’t even finish your words before you’re cutting yourself off with a pornographic moan, one that’d make the birds flinch. he groans loudly from behind you, eyes rolling back shut and head tipping backwards. and he’s so mean. not giving you a fraction of a second before he’s pulling out and plunging deep in you at the rate of a rabbit in heat.

“fuck, fuck! Jack!?” you moan out, your arms shooting up to grab whatever you could, sheets and cover in your grip as you clench down on him, your eyes squeezing shut so fast you see the stars. his groans are ragged, tired, raspy. like he’s been screaming all damn night. and his grip on your body is even worse, there’s probably gonna be a bruise there, pumpkin. you understand.

“i know baby, i knoww fuck,” he drawls out, biting his lip as he continued to thrust into you. “fuck you’re so good, you’re so fucking good i-i couldn’t do it pumpkin..” you can barely him him over yourself, and the clapping sound from under the covers that grew louder the quicker he fucked you.

he fucked you like he was running a race. funny for someone with half a leg, right? it was hurried, eager. just how long was he thinking of burying into you like this? “you lied, yer’ a fucking liar..” your words come out shaky, vocal cords moving in tune with the way your body jerked against the bed.

his eyes shoot open, mouth agape as he catches a look at your face: mouth agape in a frown, nose scrunched and eyes rolling to the ceiling. you’re fuckin’ lovin’ it. “i knoww baby i know, i’m sorryyy,” he whines through gritted teeth, and if you could look back you’d see the way his brows are pulled together tight and he’s giving his little puppy eyes.

“i’m sorry baby i just-” he huffs a breath, “you just feel so good. i can’t wait too long, yknow that…” his hand snakes to the front of your throat, hoisting you back against his chest as he palms at your tits, jackrabbitting his cock in you as he plants wet kisses on your shoulder.

“had a long fuckin’ night, needed my girl, ok? i just need you baby,” he puts on that sweet, doting voice he’d usually pair with the signature puppy eyes, he knows what works. knows what has you whining and submitting to his dirty tricks, telling him something like “i love you so much jackie u can use me whenever you want :’(.” like you were doing now.

“daddy’s sorry baby, daddy’s so sorry,” he’s huffing and puffing from behind you, groaning into your ear as he uses your cunt, stuffing you full, hips jittering as he approaches his peak quickly. “baby i-i wanna cum, wanna cum so fucking bad i can’t take it,” he pushes your head to the side, angling you just enough to catch your lips and kiss you hurriedly.

you moan upon impact, snaking your hand backwards to run your fingers through his hair. “i’ll-ill fuckin’ stop if you want but i wanna cum so bad baby, can daddy cum in you? pretty please?” how can you say no to him? you’re already putty in his hands, mouth open as you moan into each others mouth.

“you can cum daddy, m’all yours..always gonna let you use me..!” you whine, and he groans out in relief, whines getting raspy and weaker, bruising your tits in his hand as he comes in you, hips twitches while he fills you, panting over your shoulder as he runs his hand down to your stomach, caressing you lovingly.

Robby looks up and follows his line-of-sight to the head of the room. "Y/N?" he questions.

Jack shrugs. "I mean, it's not like either of us have ever shied away from making it obvious that she's our favorite." Turning his head, he scowls at Robby. "'Til you stole her from nightshift."

Robby grins. "She had to switch to day if we wanted to keep her on when she became a resident."

Jack rolls his eyes sarcastically. "So, are you going to ask her, or am I?"

Robby crosses his arms while keeping his gaze focused on you. "You really think that'd be the best look? Both of us on one of her arms and squeezed between us all night at an already cramped table? There's going to be photographers, Jack. She'd never hear the end of it after the photos go up online." He takes a step closer. "How long before a rumor gets started that she's sleeping her way to the top?" he whispers.

Jack stands at full height with his feet evenly planted on tile floor. "Listen, the invitations stated that we can each have a plus one. So we bring one." He raises a brow. "Weren't you just complaining the other day about Park circlin' her more than you cared to see? You know he's going, too, right?"

Robby's eyes flit to Jack.

He continues. "You okay with the idea of him taking her instead? Because I wouldn't put it past him for this to be the first year he finally takes an actual date instead of a one-night stand, so long as it's her."

Robby wavers for a moment, then drops his arms before heading in your direction.

"You got much left to do, sweetheart?" Robby asks while pressing a steady hand to the small of your back.

You shake your head and return the clipboard you were just signing paperwork upon to its corresponding cradle. "No, that was the last of it," you reply with a gentle smile. "Why?"

"Somethin' we wanna talk to you about," he states while nodding toward Jack, who stands on the other side of you.

"C'mon," Jack says while bobbing his head in the direction of the ambulance bay outside.

Shifting nervously from atop the brick half-wall you're seated upon, you stare up at Robby who's standing in front of you, then glance to Jack out of the corner of your eye who's sitting on your right. "Am I in trouble?" you ask quietly. "Did I—"

"Course not," Jack says while cupping the back of your head.

A statement Robby mimics the sentiment of by shaking his own. "You're aware of the gala that's coming up in a few days, right?"

Your brows knit together and you nod slowly. "Yes..."

Robby looks to Jack with an unreadable expression, which seems to be bordering on entertained.

"Come with us," Jack offers while winding an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his side. "As our date."

Your eyes flit to asphalt and you blink dumbly. "To the...gala."

Robby's lips twitch into a smirk. "Yes, sweetheart," he replies while stepping forward. "We both want you there."

You tilt your head back to meet his eyes. "I... I don't have an invitation."

Jack rests a palm atop your thigh. "No, but we do. Invitations which explicitly state that we're each allowed a plus one. We want that to be you."

Your head feels rather empty all of a sudden, like all thoughts and words have been suctioned out. "Oh."

"So?" Robby asks while sliding an index finger under your chin. "Could you do that for us?"

"Will you get in trouble?"

Jack snorts. "How about you let us worry about that?"

You feel like there's many other concerns to discuss, but can only focus on one. "I don't have any appropriate dress wear," you supply helplessly. "Just...some sundresses and—"

"Another thing for he and I to worry about," Robby interrupts while wagging a finger between himself and Jack in gesture. "We'll pay for it. Dress, shoes, jewelry. Whatever you need."

It doesn't feel right to let them foot the entire bill for a black tie event. "But—"

Jack slips his hand firmly between your thighs then. "No objections. We're the ones extending the invitation, so it's only fair that we cover whatever costs come along with it."

"Alright?" Robby questions with a raised brow of expectation.

You suppose that whatever is purchased can always be returned for a full refund, so long as you keep the tags on and receipts in a safe place. As for shoes, you'll make sure to pick a dress that matches the cheap pair of heels you have at home that're already broken in just enough that you should be able to make them work. You nod hesitantly. "Only if you're both absolutely sure..."

Jack presses a kiss to your cheek, followed by Robby planting one atop your head. "We are," the latter whispers.

"you're thinking again," he said loudly so she could hear him over the waves.

she glanced over her shoulder, smiling sheepishly.

"am i that obvious?"

"to me?" he said with a smirk as he waded closer to her as the waves crashed against his toned muscles, "always."

she laughed softly as a wave rolled between them.

"i was just...thinking about how nice today was."

"yeah?"

she nodded eagerly.

"i didn't want it to end."

jack reached for her hands beneath the water, lacing their fingers together.

"good thing tomorrow exists."

she looked up at him.

"you'd take me again?"

he smiled, brushing a damp strand of hair away from her face.

"i'd take you anywhere." he mused, “we can do whatever we want. vacation is a beautiful thing, baby.”

her heart melted into molten honey as she tried to hide the smile that was creeping across her tinted lips.

but it was impossible, of course. because he was there, looking, oh so handsome and wet. and sun-kissed.

"you're making me blush." she sighed as he guided her further into the water.

"that's the goal." he puffed his chest playfully as she rolled her eyes— though they were shining brightly.

"you're so cheesy sometimes”

"and yet..." he stepped even closer until the water lapped gently against both of them, "...you're still looking at me like that."

"like what?" she trembled, wrapping her arms around his neck while his hands snaked around her hips.

"like i'm the only man on this beach."

she whispered, "you are."

for a second, neither of them spoke.

the only sounds were the waves breaking around them and the distant cries of seagulls flying over them.

jack tutted, his thumb slowly brushing over the fabric of her swimsuit.

"c'mere."

she didn't have to be told twice.

she rose onto her tiptoes in the water, ghosting her lips against his. they both breathed each others sunscreen in as she shook absentmindedly against his grasp.

he smiled against her lips before kissing her—slowly, unhurried, like he had nowhere else to be.

she smiled into the kiss, and he laughed quietly against her as her fingers wondered into his curly locks.

"what?" he murmured.

"nothing." she said pulling away.

"that's twice you've said 'nothing' today." he said, chasing her lips with his own.

she tucked her face against his neck. "i just..."

he rubbed circles against her back making her arch into him even more.

"just what, sweetheart?"

"...i love you."

the words came out so quietly he almost missed them.

almost.

his expression softened instantly and he leaned back just enough to look at her.

"say it again." he pleaded.

his eyes glittered in the sunlight as he bent down to brush his nose against the nape of her neck.

she giggled, a timid smile blossoming onto her cheeks.

"jack..."

"humor your old man."

she shook her head, smiling as she playfully punched his bicep.

“stop, don’t say that.” she said tenderly as he rested his head against her forehead.

jack laughed, nodding his head motioning for her to speak again.

"i love you."

his eyes grew dark and he kissed her forehead. then her nose. then the corner of her mouth.

"good."

"good?" she laughed. slightly mortified.

"because i'm completely and endlessly in love with you."

she let out the tiniest, happiest gasp before pulling him into another kiss.

behind them, the sun slipped beneath the horizon but neither of them noticed.

Robby decides this entire trip was a poorly conceived idea. A massive misstep. A lapse in sanity. The ER provided more than enough mandatory proximity to his coworkers within a carefully designated bubble of sterility and professionalism. Everyone fully clothed, protected by the sturdy layers of scrubs that render everyone nearly anonymous.

Here, anonymity is laughably. Especially yours, a certain intern whose bikini could probably be folded up and stashed comfortably in his wallet. It does nothing but give him heart palpitations and guilt.

Guilt because tries not to look, he swears he tries, but you’ve made yourself impossible to avoid, stretched out obliviously in his direct line of sight.

He feels like a creep. He is a creep.

Watching you, counting the number of hours you’ve been roasting under a Mediterranean sun despite twelve explicit, detailed warnings about UV exposure.

Usually, you practically hang onto his every word like gospel, eyes wide with an adoration that inflates his ego more than he'd ever admit.

Now he’s suddenly irrelevant, and your bikini strings are distressingly thin, and he’s certain this must constitute workplace harassment somehow.

But he’s not entirely sure who’s harassing whom.

Robby rolls his head slowly to one side, neck cracking in a futile attempt at releasing the growing tension gathering behind his eyes.

It worsens considerably when you choose that instant to lift yourself onto your forearms, your bikini top predictably ill-suited for its one simple job.

Robby’s gaze snaps down to the patio concrete, determinedly studying the cracks and imperfections. 

He hears your voice drift toward Javadi: “Should I reapply sunscreen, do you think?”

Javadi offers a halfhearted, distracted “maybe?” in return.

Robby presses two fingers against his temples, ignoring the urge to snap, Yes of course you fucking should.

From somewhere off to the side, Mateo perks up at your question, practically spring-loaded in his chair, face lit like a puppy hearing his leash rattle. “I can help —”

You blink slowly, lips parted slightly as you start to agree, but Robby’s mouth moves entirely without his permission: “I’ve got it covered.”

He’s already moving toward you, steps quick and decisive, not entirely sure when his limbs became independent of his brain.

Mateo pauses, halfway risen, looking baffled but fortunately silent, and Robby ignores the little stab of satisfaction that gives him.

You tilt your head up at him, eyes soft, confused in that way that usually leads to more questions, more talking, more things he’ll have to justify.

So Robby doesn’t give you the chance. He just plucks the sunscreen from your outstretched fingers, heart hammering unpleasantly against his chest.

He’ll justify this later. Maybe. Realistically, he’s going to gaslight everyone into thinking it made perfect sense and move on.

“Oh, thank you — um, I didn’t even realize you were still out here,” you murmur, ducking your head a little. “I mean, not in a bad way! I just thought you might’ve gone inside to — um, cool off, or something.”

“I considered it,” Robby says dryly, rubbing sunscreen briskly between his palms as you sit up fully. “But I figured if I left you unattended, you’d somehow manage to get sun poisoning.”

He tries very hard to not stare as you sweep your hair forward over your shoulder, exposing the curve of your neck and the slope of your shoulders, skin warm from the afternoon sun. But the image is already burned into his retinas.

“Sun poisoning is an inflammatory reaction,” you say quickly, tone climbing in mild protest, “and I don’t think —”

Your voice stutters sharply into silence as Robby’s palms press firmly onto your back, smoothing sunscreen into your skin.

“Whether you think so or not isn’t particularly relevant,” Robby says as his hands move in steady, overlapping strokes, making sure there isn’t a single missed spot. “Your skin is already overheated.” His fingers spread at your sides, thumbs dragging slightly upward as he reworks an area he already covered. “And if you’re going to insist on ignoring basic preventative care,” he adds, almost under this breath, “then I’m going to compensate for it.”

“I genuinely didn’t mean to be out this long. I was actually planning to come find you — eventually — just to, um, avoid this conversation. But clearly you got to me first, so… thank you.”

“You know, one ‘thank you’ per application is probably sufficient,” Robby says dryly, fingers deftly slipping beneath the delicate strings of your bikini. “But I won’t discourage you if you’re after extra credit.”

The thin fabric barely provides resistance, slipping easily against his knuckles as he spreads sunscreen across the untouched strip of skin it had been covering. His movements slow with conscious intention, thumb brushing along the sensitive hollow just between your shoulder blade.

He finds himself aware of every shift of your breath beneath his touch. The slight tremor that ripples through you, the almost imperceptible arch into his palm. 

“I’m very susceptible to extra credit opportunities,” you say, warmth brightening your voice as you glance back over your shoulder at him. 

His hand tightens without permission at your waist, fingers pressing into the soft curve before he catches himself, pulling away, flexing his hands like he’s shaking something off. A slow breath in, out.

“I’m giving you thirty more minutes,” he orders firmly. “Then I’ll drag you inside myself, if necessary.”

You tilt your head back. “Yes, sir.”

Jesus.

He turns on his heel before that can show anywhere on his face, heat climbing fast up his neck.

Robby stalks toward the house. As he passes Abbot, lounging casually near the sliding doors, he hears a low, sarcastic chuckle.

“Don’t suppose you’re offering sunscreen services across the board, Robby,” Abbot murmurs lazily, smirk evident in his voice. “Or is it a one-patient-only special?”

Robby pauses just long enough to extend one decisive middle finger over his shoulder, not bothering to turn or slow his stride.

“Not covered by your insurance,” Robby mutters flatly, disappearing inside.

this fic was part of my 2 year celebration: maria's summer in santorini 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ to learn more, click here!

she was tucked into one of his old navy sweatshirts, her fingers wrapped around his large hand as she blabbed about a patient from the week before.

"...and then javadi dropped the entire box of gloves," she said, laughing softly. "she blamed the floor!"

jack smiled to himself as she howled at the memory.

the line moved forward and she stepped up to the counter first, offering the barista her usual warm smile.

"hi, happy saturday!” she chirped.

"morning," the young man replied, his smile lingering longer than necessary. "what can I get for you?"

she ordered her usual iced vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin and jack ordered a new favorite, thanks to her. an extra hot chai latte.

"so..." the barista said as he punched the order into the register, "you headed anywhere fun today?"

she blinked. "oh. um... no. we’re just spending the day together.” she smiled politely.

the barista laughed. “you've got the whole weekend off?"

she nodded excitedly, "finally!"

jack stood beside her without saying a word. he was wtching as the questions kept coming.

biting the inside of his cheek, he couldn’t believe the balls this guy had. doing this right in front of him.

what hospital did she work at?

did she come here often?

and of course, as the nice and polite girl that she was— she answered every one question he had. never once realizing why he kept asking.

but jack noticed… he noticed the way the guy leaned a little farther over the counter.

the extra smile, the unnecessary conversation with the long line behind them.

the damn look. he'd seen that look before, far too many times.

when they finally collected their drinks and stepped back onto the sidewalk, she immediately broke off a piece of her muffin and held it toward his lips.

"here." she hummed absentmindedly.

jack accepted it automatically, wrapping his lips around her fingers as he took the muffin into his mouth.

"mm, you know he was flirting with you."

she frowned up at him.

"who?” she gawked, still stunned at the feeling of his lips on her fingers.

“the barista."

her brows pinched together, “he was?"

jack looked down at her.

he scoffed, because he knew she wasn't teasing him, she wasn't pretending. she genuinely had no idea.

"i thought he was just friendly."

jack let out a quiet breath through his nose. "he wasn't just friendly."

"oh."

she looked back through the coffee shop window as if trying to replay the interaction.

"i didn't even notice."

"i know baby."

she glanced up at him.

"wait, you noticed?"

"i always do.”

it became impossible to ignore it after that.

not because she encouraged it. she never did!

if anything, she was almost painfully unaware. what was wrong with being nice? she smiled at everyone, held doors open and remembered names.

she even asked people how their day was.

it was simply who she was.

unfortunately, kindness was often mistaken for interest and jack knew that.

but in her inexperienced age, she didn't.

—

one evening, they attended a hospital fundraiser.

she'd spent nearly an hour deciding she didn't have anything nice enough to wear before finally settling on a simple pale blue dress that reached just below her knees.

it was nothing extravagant, just elegant— just like she was and jack had nearly forgotten how to breathe when she'd walked out of the bedroom.

now, an hour and a half into the event, she was chatting with one of the donors while balancing a glass of sparkling water in her hand.

she wasn’t much of a drinker.

jack watched from across the room as their conversation should have lasted thirty seconds.

it had been almost five minutes.

the man kept smiling, leaning in and somehow finding new questions to ask her about her riveting job.

she answered each one, completely unaware that he was inventing reasons to keep her standing there, to admire the glittering necklace that was displaced atop her collarbone.

robby appeared beside jack with a glass of wine, following his line of sight.

"oh, don't." he chuckled, bumping his shoulder into his.

jack didn't look away. "don't what?"

"whatever's going on in that head of yours.”

"nothing's going on." he scoffed.

robby snorted at that.

"you've been glaring at the guy for the last three minutes."

"i’m not glaring."

"you are, man." he laughed.

jack sighed. "i don't like the way he's looking at her."

robby looked between them before humming.

"you know, the funny thing is..."

jack finally looked at him.

"...she has absolutely no clue, doesn't she?"

"no." he grumbled.

"mhm, i thought so."

they watched as she laughed at something the donor said. not because he was charming, but because she laughed with everyone.

jack knew the difference but the donor clearly didn't.

before he'd even made the decision, jack was already moving across the room.

she noticed him out from the corner of her eyes and her face brightened in an instant.

there it was.

that beautiful smile, the one that was only ever his.

"there you are!” she said warmly as jack's entire expression softened.

he slipped his freckled arm swiftly around her waist, his hand settling against the small of her back.

the donor's smile faltered ever so slightly while jack offered him a polite nod.

"everything alright here?"

the man cleared his throat. "of course.” he said before he excused himself.

she watched him leave before looking back at jack.

"ugh, you rescued me." she sighed in relief, taking a sip from her glass.

"did i?" he cocked a brow.

"i didn't know how to end that conversation." she admitted.

jack blinked, "well, i thought you were enjoying it."

she laughed. “i was just trying to be polite."

he crossed his arms, smiling down at her, “you didn't know he was flirting with you?"

that made her stare at him.

"he was flirting with me?"

jack couldn't help smiling, a small disbelieving shake of his head as he watched her roll her eyes.

"sweetheart..."

her cheeks flushed pink. "jack, i genuinely thought he just liked to hear the sound of his own voice."

"i know. of course you thought that."

she studied his face for a long moment before a tiny smile appeared.

"so..."

jack already knew that look.

"what?"he said wearily.

"w— were you jealous?"

he opened his mouth to deny it. then stopped because lying to her had never come easily to him.

"...maybe." he said as he watched her smile grow.

she then reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his before resting her head lightly against his shoulder.

"you know," she murmured, "i never notice any of them."

jack looked down at her as a she continued quietly.

"i’m only just looking for you."

and for the first time that evening, the tension left his shoulders.

he lifted her small joined hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her ring clad knuckle.

Andy. What the hell.

Pope stared at the lime. Then he looked up at her.

She just leaned her elbows on the bar, chin in her hands, waiting for him to try it.

"Why are you always smiling?" Pope’s voice was raspy.

"Because it’s a beautiful day, and being mean takes way too much energy and problem," she said easily. She spinned away to greet a customer. "Hey there! What can I get started for you?"

Pope swallowed hard, his chest feeling strangely tight. He tracked the yellow shirt as she moved.

She was a sweetheart. Genuinely, bafflingly nice.

He’d spent the last three days trying to find the angle, the grift, the hidden malice. But there wasn't one. She was just... good.

The front door swung open, letting in three distinct headaches: Deran, Craig, and J.

Craig immediately headed for the taps, slapping the bar. "Yo, Deran, you finally fire that old guy who smelled like damp carpet? Who's the—" Craig stopped dead in his tracks as she turned around, offering a massive wave.

"Hi! You must be Craig, Deran’s brother. He told me you drink beer like it's water, so I already poured you a cold one." She slid a frosty mug perfectly down the counter.

Craig caught it, his mouth slightly open. He looked at the beer, then at her, then at Deran. "Where did you find this one? A Disney movie?"

"Shut up, Craig," Deran muttered. He walked behind the bar, giving her a brief gentle nod. "You doing okay? Customers treating you right?"

"Perfectly! Everyone's so sweet," she said, completely oblivious to the fact that half of her daytime regulars were local felons. "I'm gonna go restock the ice. Let me know if you guys need anything." She disappeared into the back room.

Craig watched her go, shaking his head with a grin. "Man, she is just... sunshine in a person. It's kind of wild."

"She's a good kid," Deran admitted, setting up for their meeting. "Keeps the books clean, customers are tipping better because she actually remembers their birthdays. It's weird, but it works."

J, who had been quiet the entire time, leaned against the bar. His guarded expression softened into something resembling a normal nineteen year old boy.

"Yeah," J said quietly. "She's kinda cute."

Pope’s hand tightened around his drink. The glass gave a sharp crack under the sudden pressure.

Craig and Deran blinked, looking over at their older brother.

Both of them slowly braced themselves.

Pope’s posture had gone rigid, his shoulders squaring off as he turned his head slowly to look at his nephew.

"What did you say?" Pope asked.

J frowned, picking up on the sudden shift. "I just said she’s cute, Pope. Chill."

"She’s not for you," Pope said. His gaze was locked onto J.

"Pope, man, relax," Deran warned, reaching out a hand. "J didn't mean anything by it."

"Don't look at her." Pope insisted, his chest heaving slightly as a protectiveness flared up inside him. The thought of J getting anywhere near her bright energy made something sour twist in his gut. He didn't want them to ruin her. He didn't want J to ruin her.

J held Pope's intense stare for a tense moment before slowly putting his hands up in surrender. "Fine. Whatever. I'm just saying."

The back door clicked open, and she reappeared, struggling just a little bit with a heavy plastic bucket of ice. Even with her arms strained, she still had that happy bounce in her step.

The heavy tension in the room instantly evaporated the second her yellowness came into view.

Before Deran or Craig could even think about moving, Pope was already off his stool. He crossed the space behind the bar in urgent strides.

He didn't say a word, but his hands gently but firmly enveloped the handles of the bucket, easing the weight entirely out of her grip.

"Oh! Thanks, Andy!" she beamed, letting go and wiping her hands on her apron. She looked up at him, her eyes crinkling with a bright warmth. "You're a lifesaver. My muscles were about to give out."

Pope carefully dumped the ice into the well, his movements unusually gentle for a man of his size. When he finished, he set the empty bucket down and looked at her.

"Don't carry heavy things," his voice was fiercely protective. "Just ask me. I'll do it."

"Aw, you're the sweetest, Andy, thank you," she reached up and patted his arm affectionately before spinning around to help a customer who had just walked in.

Behind the counter, Craig and Deran slowly turned their heads to look at each other.

Craig’s mouth was slightly open, his beer paused halfway to his lips.

They shared an alarmed look that spoke volumes.

Do you see what I'm seeing right now?

Deran just swallowed hard, a slight nod of his head communicating total, terrified agreement.

Andrew Pope Cody had just willingly played the chivalrous assistant to a girl wearing a pastel yellow crop top.

And he looked like he'd happily do it again.

Pope walked back over, completely ignoring his brothers and his nephew. He sank back down, his rigid muscles relaxing the moment he was back in her orbit. His dark aura was entirely gone, replaced by a quiet stillness as he watched her happily chat up a local surfer.

Craig leaned over, "Well," he muttered to J and Deran. "I guess she’s Pope’s sunshine now."

-'🖤⛓ ⁠*⁠.⁠‧₊˚

“Hi Rochelle, we’re gonna get you some pain meds as soon as we can. Can you tell me if you’re experiencing any dizziness or nausea?” McKay starts as they enter trauma two. from a distance Victoria and Joy watch in disbelief,

“Is that Rochelle King?” Victoria says walking over to trauma two to get a quick peek. Joy follows quickly behind,

“Whoever it is, they’re a patient. One of you find out who her agent is or whatever she needs,” Dana calls out to the two med students. Joy walks to the desk begrudgingly. “Who the hell even is she?” Dana asks Joy as she takes her phone out to find the correct phone number,

“Seriously? She just won an Oscar for that Audrey Hepburn biopic? She’s in Pittsburgh filming for the new X-Files reboot,” Joy looks at her unimpressed as Dana blinks, still confused. Joy passes her phone over and Dana’s eyes widen in surprise as she stares at the headshot of you. she hasn’t seen you in years and you were almost unrecognizable. there’s a new look in your eyes, a less naïve and more ambitious look that only those who knew you previously would notice. Dana hands the phone back to Joy,

“Call her, let her know we have her actress here.” Dana leaves and sees Robby leaving trauma two. She speeds over to him, just as he’s taking his plastic gloves off,

“How’s our Hollywood star?” Dana starts.

“Her?” Robby turns around looking back at Rochelle as they pull her gurney out. 

“What, you didn’t see that movie she was in? She won an Oscar for it.”

“Nope, I’m too busy saving lives here to watch anything.” Robby looks up at the patient board to see who’s next,

“Yeah, well the agent she was screaming about? Her agent is your ex-girlfriend,” Robby looks at Dana with panic before shaking his head, concealing his initial fright with a straight face. “You’ve got about four hours left, Robinavitch, I’m sure you can handle her until Abbot is in.” 

Robby’s palms run up his face in agitation. of course, right as his shift was on its last few hours, he’s forced to face you. it felt like an impending doom that the universe sent him for all his mistakes he made while with you.

“I refuse to sit here any fucking longer and wait for you! I can’t believe I gave up my life for this… I be should in school, making a name for myself but instead I’m in fucking Pittsburgh playing housewife to you!” you yell with hot tears rushing down your face, voice cracking as you struggle to finish your sentence. Robby stands in the middle of your shared living room, hands on his hips, quietly taking all of it. he looks as if he’s disassociated from the conversation, waiting for it to be over so he can move on with his night,

“You done?” Robby says with a mildly condescending tone. 

“Yeah, actually, I’m fucking done.” you walk to your shared bedroom, throwing clothes into a bag, rushing to get out. Robby doesn’t put up a fight, he simply sits on the couch, throwing his legs up on the coffee table. he’s been through this before with you. he doesn’t think you’ll get far and thinks it’s only a matter of time before you come running back. you needed him to survive, or so he thought. you took everything you could and bought a plane ticket heading west, never looking back. since then, you’ve been untraceable (though it’s not like he went looking for you anyways).

the sound of heels clicking against the linoleum floors snaps him out of the memory. you enter the ER dressed in a clean, well tailored designer outfit, carrying a matching bag with all sorts of papers poking out. your heavy eye makeup matches your blown out hair and minimalistic jewellery. you had your phone to your ear, quickly shutting it off as you approach the workstations,

“Dana!” you say with your arms open, embracing her. Dana squeezes you tightly in response. you look wildly different from the last time Robby saw you. if you passed him in the street, he wouldn’t be able to recognize you but there was something about your new look though that Robby wasn’t entirely buying. he felt as if he could see right through your alleged act, how could you mature so quickly from being someone who used to be so dependant on him? 

“Hey kid!” Dana says as she pulls away, her hands still gripping your forearms. “Look at you! All grown up!” you smile big at her, relishing in her kindness, 

“Thank you! Listen, I’m here for my client, Rochelle King?” in the corner of your eye, Robby approaches,

“She’s resting.” 

“Robby, long time no see,” you say, adjusting your posture so you’re standing a bit taller now. Dana slowly backs away as she watches you try to keep your composure. Victoria and Joy’s heads poke up in interest, observing from not too far away. “You know, I asked them to take her to Westbridge, but apparently PTMC was much closer.” you say, trying to take the opportunity to get a quick jab at him,

“We put her on some pain medication and are waiting on her CT results back in case she has any symptoms of a brain bleed. She’s got a concussion, an ankle fracture and some pretty bad road rash, but she’s lucky to be alive.” you nod at his diagnosis, 

“So where is she?” Robby stretches his arm out, guiding you down the ER,

“Robby’s ex is Rochelle King's agent?” Victoria asks Dana, 

“And if she is, he fumbled. Hard.” Joy continues. 

“Don’t you two have patients to check on? Chop chop, let’s go!” Dana claps her hands, breaking up the scene.

the curtains inside the ER room are closed and security stands in front of the room. before Robby opens the door he turns to you, 

“Did I get a chance to say that you look amazing?” Robby says quietly, making sure only you could hear. 

“Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?” your eyes squinting slightly in suspicion. 

“But between us, I’m not buying it,” you scoff at his caveat. 

“You can convince Dana and the rest of this ER that you’re a big Hollywood agent, but deep down you’re still a little girl, scared to live without someone taking care of her twenty-four seven.” 

“Unbelievable. You’re still so self-centered as always, Robinavitch. You really can’t believe that I actually made a life for myself after you.” you shake your head in shock and disappointment before entering the room. Robby follows close behind. 

“Hi!” you say softly to Rochelle, something about the tone of your voice makes Robby’s heart ache, it’s reminiscent of the way you used to speak to him when he’d come home from a rough shift,

“Miss King, we’d like to keep you overnight for observation while you wait on your results back. We don’t suspect any brain bleeding at this time but we’d like to just monitor you in case anything comes up.” your client stays quiet, nodding at the new information, 

“That’s all, thank you Doctor Robby.” you dismiss him, keeping your eyes on Rochelle. you give her a soft smile as you grab her hand. you don’t care to look at him, or give him any attention besides what’s necessary. you’re technically still working, and you weren’t going to let your ex get in the way of that. Robby watches as you pull out papers from your bag before exiting the room. 

maybe Robby will be okay with you here. an hour has passed since he dropped you off in the ER room and there’s three more to go before he can clock out and hopefully never see you again. through the ambulance bay, Jack arrives early than usual, camo backpack slung over his shoulder,

“What’re you doing here? You don’t come in till six usually.” Robby says as he double checks his watch for the time,

“Yeah, I’ve got a SWAT friend coming in for a wound check up, figured I might as well just come in and do it myself.” 

as if the universe's timing couldn’t be worse, you come out of your clients room and walk over to Dana,

“Hey Dana, are there any issues with ordering food to the hospital? My client refuses to eat anything right now unless it’s a protein smoothie.” from a distance, Jack sees you chatting with Dana, 

“Is that who I think it is?” Jack chuckles in amusement, “Didn’t think this place couldn’t get worse for you, brother.” Robby sighs as Jack gives him a sympathetic pat on the back. 

“She’s an agent for some big actress who got into an accident today. I’ll give you the rundown in a bit.” Jack stares, scanning you from head to toe. with your clothes fitting in all the right places, accentuating your waistline and hips, he can’t help but stare. 

“She looks good.” Jack says, testing the waters. 

“Yeah? She’s all yours if you can handle that.” Robby jokes. it’s the first genuine laugh Robby has had all day but Jack keeps a straight face, taking his statement seriously. you feel the burning gaze of the two men as Dana passes you a sticky note with the hospital's info. your eyes meet Jack’s first, cracking a big smile on your face. he looks a bit older than the last time you saw him, and damn has time done him well. his salt and pepper hair, deep wrinkles around his eyes, if you were put in a room with him, you aren’t sure how you’d act. 

“Hi Jack!” you say throwing your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against his. Jack wraps his arms around your waist, leaving his hands there as you pull back. 

“Hi sweetheart, long time no see. You look beautiful.” sweetheart? beautiful? Robby thinks.

“It’s what happens when you leave Pittsburgh, what can I say?” you say using your fingers to flaunt your face, letting out a giggle.

“Heard you’re here with some big actress? You live in Hollywood now?” Robby’s head tilts as he looks at Jack in confusion. 

“Yeah actually, it’s been great. I’m a talent agent to a few actors and I’m in town for a bit while we film a reboot for a series.” you beam, proud of how you’ve established yourself.

“Yeah? Well you gotta tell me about it over drinks sometime while you’re here.” Robby couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. did Jack not remember all the times Robby had complained to him about another fight you two had? or that time Robby had to sleep on Jack’s couch?

“If you’ll excuse us, we have jobs to do.” Robby says as he interrupts the moment. Dana raises her eyebrows from a distance, catching Robby’s attention. you finally look at Robby,

“Good, so do I.” you say quickly looking back at Jack, giving him a wink. Jack shakes his head as he watches you walk away. he knows you’re trouble, and he’s willing to bet everything on you. as Jack heads to his locker, Dana quickly pulls Robby aside,

“What the hell was that? That poor girl has already been through enough of your bullshit.” Robby puts on an innocent face as Dana interrogates him,

“This is an ER, not a speed dating event and we have work to do,”

“Real professional of you, Robby. I almost believe you.” Robby walks away as Dana finishes her sentence. three more hours, just three more he repeats to himself. 

𝜗ৎ 

the room is quiet in comparison to the ongoing chaos outside in the ER. you type away at new emails before a soft knock at the door that awakens your client,

“Come in.” she mumbles, shuffling around in the bed. Jack and Robby enter the room together as you push your laptop aside. 

“How’re you doing Miss King?” Robby starts as he examines her vitals. his eyes quickly glancing at you before bringing his full attention back to the patient. she groans in response, “Hurts.” she mumbles. while Robby slowly begins unraveling her bandages, Jack puts his hand on your shoulder softly,

“You doin’ okay?” you nod in response. the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Robby or Rochelle,

“Wounds look like they’re healing okay, no signs of infection so far. Your CT scans came back good as well so no risk of internal bleeding,” Robby turns to Jack who is standing beside you, “Let’s up her pain meds and keep an eye on the wound tonight. Should be okay to discharge by the morning.” as Robby makes his way out of the room, Jack quickly turns back to you again,

“You let me know if you need anything, got it?” you nod in silence again as he follows the other attending. as the door shuts, your client turns to you, 

“What was that?” she says, eyebrows raised and with a smirk similar to a cheshire cat,

“It’s nothing, he’s a friend– an acquaintance even. I’ve known him for a long time,” you say as you pull your laptop back out. she doesn’t break her disbelieving stare, waiting for you to confess, “You’re high on pain meds, go back to sleep.” 

“I might be high, but I know when a guy is really into you like that,” you shake your head as she turns over, “Plus he’s hot! My god, should I go for older guys? Honestly, and I mean it respectfully, if you don’t jump on him, I will!” you laugh at her drug induced ramble, trying your best to keep things professional. 

just as you’re about to respond to another email, your phone begins buzzing. you’re quick to step out of the room and rush towards the ambulance bay exit. like a puppy, Jack’s eyes trail after you as you dash out answering the call,

“You know I was kinda joking when I said she was all yours?” Robby says sliding beside him,

“Were you? What happened to never wanting to see her again?” Jack challenges,

“All I’m saying is that I don’t believe she’s changed and I don’t think you should either.” Robby says with his hands up in surrender,

“Well I’m willing to be the one to find out.”

Robby shouldn’t feel threatened by Jack’s determination. he deemed that he was over you long before your relationship ended and yet he hated every time Jack made a pass at you (and even more that you were eating it up). 

outside, the red light of the ‘Emergency’ sign above illuminates you,

“I promise you, if you don’t change that stunt team and you don’t do another pass at cast and crew safety, you’ll need to find another actress and we both know you’re in too deep to do that at this stage,” Jack walks outside to see you pacing back and forth. the click of your heels fill the silence while you listen to whoever you have on the phone, “Great, I’ll have that contract sent to you shortly, thank you.” you shut your phone off letting out a deep breath. Jack waits until you’ve had a second to decompress before approaching,

“Everything okay? Saw you running out the ER, just thought I’d check on you.” you spin around to see Jack with his hands behind his back slowly walking towards you. he stops at a safe distance standing beside, looking out at the nearby road with you.

“Yeah, producers just wanna know when they can start filming her scenes again, it’s nothing really.” your tense shoulders drop as it becomes quiet again, cars passing by filling the silent void, 

“Y’know, I missed seeing you around.”

“Really? I thought I was a mess back then. I feel like my terrible decisions showed that.” 

“Like being with Robby?” you huff in amusement as Jack’s question. 

“Yeah, kinda. But it led me to meeting you…” there’s a brief pause, “And Dana,” you add. seeing Jack after years of being away has made you feel something you haven’t felt in a long time. when you left for LA, you refused to wear your heart on your sleeve again and being around him has brought something out in you. 

the way he’s checked on specifically you multiple times since arriving, the interest he has in the life and career you’ve built, and let’s not forget how much more handsome he’s become. you don’t feel like he’s making you smaller being around him, he embraces your change. he treats you like an adult and like someone who is capable, 

“The last time I was in Pittsburgh, I didn’t really know what I wanted. I just blindly followed a man who was essentially leading me nowhere.” you turn to face Jack. he mirrors your movement standing closer to you now,

“Have you figured out what you want now?”

“Yeah, I have.” 

𝜗ৎ 

thirty minutes left, Robby kept repeating to himself. thirty more minutes and he could finally go home, escape the sight of you, escape Jack’s attempts at flirting and repress any resurfacing feelings or memories he had of your time together. 

though, he couldn’t help but remember the way you used to laugh when you rode on the back on his Bonneville, or the little scream you let out when he would pick you up and spin you around after coming home. he tries to keep busy to avoid any old feelings resurfacing but he can’t help it when the last four hours have been spent watching you openly flirt with his best friend,

“Princess, have you seen Jack?” Robby asks, 

“You could try triage? I think he mentioned something about a wound check for a friend?” Robby flashes a thankful smile and heads over. he just needs to brief Jack on one more patient then he’s out of there.

in the nearby supply closet, Jack pushes you against the wall kissing you desperately as if he’s waited years for this exact moment. you moan as Jack takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. his knee pushes your legs apart and settles in between, allowing you to gently grind yourself against him. he slowly begins kissing down your neck, 

“Fuck.” you moan lowly as he marks the sweet spot on your neck. Jack quietly shushes you and puts his hand on your mouth,

“You’ll be my good girl and stay quiet, right?” you nod vigorously, his hand staying on your mouth, following your nodding movements. “Yeah, you’re my good girl.” he kissed and marked your neck, desperately wanting to show everyone he’s yours. 

Robby’s head pops in triage, doing a quick pass and even going towards the lobby to see if Jack is around. still nowhere to be found, Robby runs up the stairs towards the rooftop next. 

Jack slowly undoes the buttons of your top as he kisses up your neck again, making his way back to your lips. he hovers over them for a second whispering,

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you.” he kisses you again, struggling with the buttons of your top. your fingers run through his grey curls, stopping at the roots to gently pull and tilt his head away from yours. A quiet groan slips from him at the loss of contact with your lips,

“Tell me how long,” you whisper with a seductive smile. Jack smiles back as he looks down at you, hands still in his hair,

“Since the second I met you, I didn’t care that you were Robby’s, I always knew you’d end up here with me,” he confesses. “And I’m not letting you go, I’m not making the same fucking mistake.” you pull him back in again for an even deeper kiss than before. 

“Robby!” Doctor McKay calls out from a room. Robby dreadfully turns around. fifteen minutes he reminds himself as he walks over, 

“I can’t find Abbot and I need an attending’s opinion on this.” as Cassie goes to unravel a bandaged wound, Robby turns to grab some disposable gloves before seeing the box is empty,

“Hold that thought, let me grab a new box of gloves.” Robby says turning around to head towards the supply closet. Robby turns his head left and right, looking around as he heads towards the closet, still unable to find the night shift attending. he couldn’t have gone far, not when he should be doing his usual nightcrawler huddle with the night shift now. 

the supply closet door swings open. forcing Jack to stumble away from you. your eyes meet first with Robby’s whose eyes quickly dart to Jack’s. his lips are sticky with your lip gloss, and his short grey hair is somehow sticking in every direction possible. something about the thrill of being caught by Robby makes you lick your lips and beam a vicious smile at him. he looks back at you mortified, unable to determine if he should start yelling in anger or just close the door and pretend nothing happened. maybe this is your cue to leave and check back up on your emails and missed calls and texts. Jack and Robby turn to watch you pull a small rectangular paper out of your pocket, pressing it to Jack’s chest,

“I’ll be in town for a little longer.” you say, walking out of the closet back to the assigned room of your client. Princess watches you from a distance as you smooth your hair out and redo the buttons on your shirt. she quickly turns to Perlah to relay what she just witnessed. 

Robby stands in the closet doorway still, hands on his hips as Jack looks at the small business card. one side is simply your first and last name on a sleek blank background. on the other side is your phone number and a small description at bottom:

“Talent Agent, Based in Los Angeles”