The sounds coming from the bedroom were loud. Heavy breathing… a low groan and then -
“Fuck!” Robby let out a sharp, breathless whimper.
“Oh, stop making such a fuss.” Jack’s voice was strained. “Hold still. I’ll try again, harder.”
“Stop!” Another groan tore from Robby’s throat.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Michael!”
“I’m trying!” he yelled, frustrated. “I’m really trying. It’s been ages since I last did something like… that.”
“I can’t get it in if you wiggle like that” Jack huffed.
“You’re not!” Robby shot back. “My fucking back is killing me.”
“I know.” Jack sighed. “But what do you want me to do about that?”
“Okay, let’s try it the other way around. I’ll just… hold it like… that and you keep pushing it in. Okay?”
Another groan, then another whimper from Robby.
“Harder, Michael! Don’t let me do all the work!” Jack groaned. “Fuck, why won’t it go in?”
“Don’t move, Jack! I told you I’d handle it now!”
“Great handling, Robby - I don’t think it’s supposed to bend like that!” Jack huffed. “Okay, a little to the left… yeah, exactly like that… and now keep going.”
“Yeah, wait, I think I need both hands.”
“You’re being dramatic, it’s not that big!”
There was a long groan from Robby followed by a heavy silence - and then Jack exhaled.
Robby breathed heavily. “Thank God.”
“The instructions said it would take twenty minutes max.”
“You were the one insisting we could do this without help.”
They both looked down at the half-assembled wardrobe.
Jack shook his head. “I hate it.”
(I'm sorry, it seems like my hangover is just making me scribble down stupid little headcanons and I can't do anything about it.)
