Hawaii Girl

Jack threw the covers off in an instant. He didn't need to check the app twice to know how fast a six year old’s blood sugar could plummet when it was crashing in the middle of the night.

He grabbed a juice box from the bottom shelf of the fridge, tearing the plastic wrap off the straw as he hurried down the hallway to the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Under a pile of cartoon blankets, a tiny mess of brown curly hair was sleeping.

"Hey, sweet girl," Jack murmured. He knelt by the side of the bed and set the juice on the nightstand, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Wake up for Daddy, please?"

She let out a tiny groan, pulling the blanket higher. When he gently pulled it back, he could feel the faint dampness on her forehead. She was clammy, her skin pale, and her little breaths were coming a bit too fast.

"Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes for me," Jack coaxed, slipping his arm under her back to help her sit up.

She felt like a ragdoll, her head rolling heavily against his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, glazed with heavy sleep and low-sugar fog. "Daddy..." she mumbled. "'leepy."

"I know you are, baby. I know " Jack said. He grabbed the juice box, guiding the straw to her lips. "I need you to take some big sips of this, okay? Just a few big sips, and then you can go right back to sleep."

She shook her head weakly, whining and trying to turn her face into his chest to hide from the straw. "No. 'leepy."

"I know, I know, but you have to," Jack insisted gently but firmly. He kept his arm wrapped securely around her waist, holding her upright against him while his other hand held the juice. "Just a little bit, sweetheart. For Daddy. Right now."

He nudged the straw against her lips again. Feeling the urgency in his voice, she finally relented, taking a few small sips.

But the fog of hypoglycemia combined with the sheer exhaustion of being woken up at one in the morning was too much for a six year old to handle.

As she swallowed the third sip, a huge tear spilled over her lashes, followed by a quiet sob.

"Don't want to," she cried softly, her little shoulders shaking as she buried her face into his neck, her hands clutching at his t-shirt.

The sound of her crying always tore him. Hearing his own daughter sob because her body was failing her in the middle of the night broke through every piece of armor he had.

He wrapped both arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest, rocking her back and forth in the quiet room. He pressed a warm kiss into her hair, his hand smoothing down her back.

"I've got you," he whispered. "I know it's hard, baby. I know you're tired but you're being so brave. I need you to be strong for just one more minute, okay? Just finish the juice so your tummy feels better."

He pulled back just enough to look at her, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. He offered the straw again.

Sniffling and hiccuping, she looked at him with watery eyes. She nodded miserably, wrapped her small hands over his big ones around the juice box, and sucked down the rest of it until the straw rattled against the bottom.

"Good girl," Jack breathed, a wave of relief washing over him. "That's it. All done."

Instead of laying her back down against the pillows, Jack couldn't bring himself to let go just yet. Hearing her cry had left his own chest feeling thight.

He shifted his weight on the edge of the mattress and gently pulled her completely into his chest.

She didn't protest, too exhausted to do anything but collapse against him. She tucked her head right beneath his chin, her small face burying into the crook of his neck, while her little arms wrapped weakly around his torso. Jack bundled the cartoon blanket tightly around her small frame, sealing out the chill of the night, and held her close against his chest.

"I've got you," he murmured again against her hair. "Daddy’s got you."

He could feel the slight tremor in her small body from the low sugar, but as the juice began to hit her system, her breathing gradually started to slow down, losing its frantic edge.

Every few minutes, Jack glanced down at his phone screen resting on the nightstand. The app glowed in the dark, showing the red line finally starting to curve upward.

72 mg/dL.

He let out a long breath he felt like he’d been holding since the alarm first woke him.

She was fast asleep now, the tears entirely forgotten. Jack closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the top of her head. He knew he’d be exhausted when his day shift started in a few hours, but right now, there was nowhere else in the world he was going to be.

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

“Good morning!” he murmured softly, almost afraid of waking the neighborhood, you could not help but smile even while sleepy, there could not be a better way to start the day than that.

It was a click that brought the thought of what day it was.

“Happy Doctor’s Day to the best doctor,” you said kissing his lips, it was possible to feel his smile during the contact.

“Thank you, darling…” he murmured a little breathless since your kiss turned into kisses in the plural and moved down to his neck and your hands moved to his bare chest, the hair there tickling the palms of your hands.

“What are you going to do today to celebrate that fact?” he asked smiling even more and feeling his pants tighten because of the touches.

“Well, I have to finish the cookies for the school fair and maybe steal a little taste of my husband before he goes to work,” you murmured innocently. Robby was having the best start to his day.

08:14 AM

You checked the oven one more time, watching the color and texture of the cookies. Five more minutes and they would be ready.

It was hard to hide your little surprise from Robby during the week, making more than four hundred cookies without a professional kitchen was quite a challenge. You did not like lying to your husband but it was a lie for good, so it was forgivable. The idea came from your six year old twins, the teacher explained that soon the whole country would celebrate Doctor’s Day, that professionals work very hard to take care of each of them and that whenever possible they should help one of those professionals. They were intrigued and asked how they could “help” their father, which led you to suggest making Michael’s favorite food, your secret family recipe of butter cookies.

Sarah and Samuel were excited about the idea but since nothing can be simple for the two of them, they said that everyone in the emergency room also deserved to be happy that day and receive a cookie, which led you to prepare an exorbitant amount of food. You admitted the exhaustion but your gratitude for everyone who helps Robby run the emergency room was greater, he always said he would not last a day without his team. From the security guard to the cleaning staff, nothing works if one piece is missing.

The twins prepared the decorations with their still clumsy but dedicated little hands. You wrote some short phrases in large letters that were not meant specifically only for doctors and placed them in front of the children’s work “station”.

Thank you for your service, great job and thank you for saving lives were their favorites. Only four in particular had special messages.

We love you godmother Dana, we love you godfather Jack and we love you daddy. You helped them with those and saw the affection your little ones put into it, pride filled you in waves, it was proof of how you and Michael were doing a good job. And you secretly prepared one, paying attention to the details and little hearts with the phrase for the best husband and doctor in the world, thank you for your service, we love you.

08:19 AM

Your thoughts were interrupted by the oven timer beeping, opening it you found the last ten cookies ready. Smiling, you removed the tray with a cloth so you would not burn yourself and placed it on the counter so they could cool and approached your children this time checking their work up close. They were almost finished. Sarah was faster but less careful, she cared more about the decoration than the phrase itself, hearts covered her cookies. You smiled running your hand through her hair. Samuel on the other hand was slower and his cookies had fewer details but his phrases were impeccable, your son had his tongue sticking out in concentration which made you smile, a trait of yours. Your other hand moved to your son’s head this time. Each one with their own little way, perfect.

“You are doing a great job and maybe you deserve a cookie too,” you said smiling as you watched them get excited at your words. They deserved a break after the continuous work. While you were eating the last ones cooled enough for them to decorate and for you to pack to take to PTMC.

10:45 AM

It did not take long for everything to be ready, dividing the work throughout the week helped a lot. The children showered and dressed in their best clothes. It was still a hospital but bringing a little color and life would not hurt. You arranged everything in the car and checked more than once if the cookies were safe for transport. The trip was calm, traffic was good and even though your house was in a residential area it was close enough to downtown to not be a tiring drive.

“My loves, remember do not interrupt anyone’s work. Approach them if they are alone and respect if they cannot talk, okay?” you warned, knowing how chaotic an emergency room could be.

11:00 AM

Unloading the car was a joint effort that your children were more than willing to help with, they almost jumped with excitement with every step closer to the entrance. You knew it was wrong but you entered through the ambulance entrance, you did not want the patients in the waiting line to get stressed. Ahmad approached but quickly smiled when he recognized you, the children smiled and hugged his legs and your son offered him a cookie.

“Thank you for your service, without you nothing would be possible!” he said extending the gift, the security guard smiled while accepting and thanking him. Your daughter frowned saying she also wanted to give a cookie. You smiled and then saw Princess nearby and alone.

“Look who is over there!” you pointed and saw your daughter’s face light up as she ran to the nurse who delightedly accepted the treat. Your eyes scanned the room and you recognized your husband in a room, you smiled at the scene, the situation was sad but you knew the patient was in the best hands in Pittsburgh.

11:20 AM

Twenty minutes and several staff members had already received their cookies, more smiles appearing with each one. It was beautiful to see how their happiness began just with the presence of the twins. Robby was still in trauma and your heart tightened for the patient imagining how tense the situation was, stabilization did not usually take that long.

In the meantime, finally a certain head nurse returned to her station after you did not find her in the first minutes. You carefully took the cookie that was set aside for her and guided your children, Dana was checking a chart when she felt two pairs of arms hugging her, she looked down to find her beautiful godchildren.

“What are you doing here?” she asked kneeling to their height to hug and check them properly. Samuel and Sarah smiled at the woman’s affection.

“We are celebrating Doctor’s Day,” the boy said stepping away from the nurse and asking for the cookie. The sister who stayed in the hug longer pouted when she noticed she would not deliver the cookie. “But daddy always says that to have a good doctor it is necessary to have a good team, thank you for your service godmother,” he finished offering the gift, you saw the woman’s eyes fill with tears as she looked at the cookie. She pulled them into another hug thanking them through teary words. You smiled at the scene but were startled when an arm settled over your shoulders, you turned your head to find Jack watching the scene.

“If you keep giving your godmother so much love, your godfather will feel left out,” you smiled and Dana scoffed at the comment, watching her godchildren move away from her toward the man. He hugged them while lifting them up, making the children laugh at the sudden action. Not wanting to give her brother the chance, Sarah pulled away from the hug and asked in panic for the cookie. You smiled and handed it to the girl.

“Godfather, did you know today is Doctor’s Day?” she asked hiding the treat behind her back, Abbot smiled pretending while adjusting his godson on his hip.

“Really? I had no idea!” he lied, the HR emails had been congratulating him all week but Sarah did not need to know that. Samuel wrapped his arms around his godfather’s neck, watching his sister’s speech.

“You are a doctor, how do you not know that?” she said rolling her eyes making the adults laugh. “But that is okay, the teacher told us, and she said you work very hard so Muel and I had the great idea of making a present for the whole team!” she said proudly and dramatically showed the cookie to the older man who smiled even more. He took it examining it closely.

“There was no way this day could get better!” he said hugging the girl again who smiled in appreciation. You and Dana smiled at the scene, you watched her open the bag and take a bite and close her eyes at the taste.

“Damn…” she said softly out of the boys’ hearing who were distracted with their godfather, your smile widened at the compliment. “Seriously, it feels like you outdo yourself with every batch!” she said taking another bite, you rolled your eyes but accepted the comment and hugged her from the side.

11:38 AM

Robby left Trauma 2 removing his dirty latex gloves, sighing. It had taken longer than expected to stabilize the patient but a fall from four floors was already a miracle that they had not died immediately. Happy Doctor’s Day, I guess.

He turned to the residents, Javadi and Dennis. Reflecting on some details of the patient. It was a heavier case and that was why he had called the two, they needed to build more resistance to certain situations and he had been successful. His speech was interrupted when he heard someone mention his name.

At one of the workstations Santos looked at two children offering a gift. She asked how much it was and the girl answered humorously with a do not worry Dr Robby will pay for everything.

Michael did not take long to realize they were his children there, Sarah with a mischievous smile and Samuel with an accomplice one. Trinity laughed at the answer and accepted.

“Well, then I do not see any harm in accepting!” she said analyzing the cookie, which had the phrase thank you for saving lives, a softer smile appeared on her face. The moment was interrupted when an imposing voice was heard.

“Hey! Dr Robby did not agree to any of this!” the children turned toward the voice and smiled running to the man who hugged them. You were near the nursing station and watched the scene with your heart beating faster.

“Daddy!” the children shouted, the residents widened their eyes, they had been there for four months and could never have imagined that Dr Robby had children. “Happy Doctor’s Day!” they said together, the man squeezed them tighter if possible. You approached already looking for the two cookies you had set aside for your husband, the children turned eagerly waiting for you to hand them over but your gaze drifted to the two strangers who had not received anything.

“I think you should offer our thanks to your father’s colleagues first,” you said pointing to Javadi and Whitaker, who smiled nervously when they saw your attention on them.

Sarah and Samuel took two more cookies and offered them to the residents who smiled at the kindness. Robby approached and gave you a quick kiss, not caring who was watching.

“Cookies for the school fair?” he teased while you smiled remembering the little lie. His hand stroked your waist. The couple’s gaze turned to the children congratulating the young doctors for their service.

11:43 AM

Robby did not like the family room, usually it was there that he had to give the worst news someone could receive, but at that moment he sympathized with it. Jack was covering for him for fifteen minutes so he could talk a little with the twins. They spoke excitedly about delivering cookies through the emergency department, Michael was so proud of the two of them, for the empathy and affection each one had.

“Okay, why do you not give him his present?” you asked with the cookie hidden behind your back, your children began to argue over who would give the present and you quickly solved it placing one hand on one side and the other on the other. Your husband smiled as he opened the package and his eyes filled with tears as he thanked them.

“I love you!” he said and was immediately answered by his children. They continued talking while Robby ate, praising several times your dough and the children’s decoration.

11:58 AM

The fifteen minutes flew by before any of you noticed, Robby hugged the children once more promising to see them at home later. You opened the door and they spotted Samira leaving a room, she still had not received a gift, they ran before you could stop them but before Michael could scold her you closed the door again and took another cookie from your bag, his eyes did not take long to read what was written, that one was yours for him, thanking him for the man he is, the father and husband who stands by you daily.

“This one is from mommy to daddy,” you murmured affectionately invading a bit of your husband’s personal space without him minding. Robby smiled once more and pulled you into a kiss, a kiss that could get him into a lot of trouble if someone saw the cameras but he did not care.

“I loved it, I loved everything about this,” he said resting his forehead against yours. “You are so thoughtful, you made so many cookies just to get a smile from our children and from everyone who works here, I love you so much,” he murmured before kissing you again.

07:46 PM

The cookie delivery was a success, unfortunately you could not deliver to everyone but the night shift would still receive theirs, Jack had pinky promised both godchildren that he would personally make sure of the delivery.

The children arrived home and dozed off, their energy had been spent very quickly but nothing that affected their sleep routine. Sarah and Samuel were in the living room watching an episode of Bluey while you were on the computer, the lawsuit against a company was finally moving and you needed to get ahead on some things, usually you would be cooking something but Robby had said he would bring food, according to him you had already done a lot.

The front door opened making the three Robinavitch in the living room lift their heads, the older man held three bags of food, the children got up excitedly to greet him. Robby hated taking weekend shifts and losing the whole day with his children but sometimes it was necessary so he liked to make up for it somehow.

“Can you set the table?” your husband asked going to the kitchen to open the food containers and soon the twins were in action, competing to see who could do it faster.

You approached after turning off the computer. The smell was divine and your stomach growled. Definitely thoughtful.

“Brazilian?” you asked hugging him from behind while he transferred the food to other dishes so it could be served properly.

“Your favorite!” he said smiling over his shoulder. “A thank you for doing so much to make today better, the best for the best, I love you,” he said sweetly turning to you and caressing your cheek.

She leans back into Jack's steady frame, letting her head rest against his shoulder while her hands reach out to pull Robby closer. The movement brings Robby's chest flush against her own, his breath hitching as he feels her urgency.

Robby's hands slide from her waist down to her hips, gripping her with a sudden, possessive intensity. He tilts his head, his beard grazing her jawline before he captures her lips in a deep, demanding kiss. It's a sharp contrast to the sleepy tenderness of the living room; the air in the small bathroom suddenly feels heavy and humid.

Behind her, Jack's hands travel upward, sliding beneath the hem of her vintage cardigan. His palms are warm, his touch deliberate as he maps the curve of her ribs. He nuzzles into the crook of her neck, his lips pressing firm, slow kisses against her skin that send shivers racing down her spine.

"Shower's a waste of time," Robby murmurs against her lips, his voice dropping an octave into a gravelly rasp.

He breaks the kiss just enough to glance back at Jack. A silent agreement passes between them, a spark of shared mischief and hunger. Robby's hands begin to wander, tugging at the edges of her clothing with a restlessness that suggests he's completely forgotten why they entered the bathroom in the first place.

She reaches back for Jack and forward for Robby, guiding them out of the bathroom and back toward the bedroom. They move as a single, clumsy unit, a tangle of limbs and frantic breath. The short walk is barely a walk at all; it's a slow, stumbling dance of redirected energy.

Robby keeps his lips pressed against her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that makes her toes curl. His hands are busy, his fingers hooking into the hem of her cardigan and pulling it upward. He pauses just long enough to shoot Jack a look of intense focus, a silent request for backup.

Jack is more than happy to oblige. From behind, he helps guide the fabric over her head, his hands lingering on her bare shoulders for a moment, his palms warm and rough. He lets the cardigan fall to the floor in a heap of vintage knit, his touch immediately returning to the curve of her waist.

"Much better," Robby murmurs, his voice a low vibration. He stops her in the middle of the room, his eyes dark as he looks at her. He reaches for the buttons of his own hoodie, his fingers slightly unsteady. "I think we've had quite enough of 'getting ready' for one morning."

She reaches out and helps Robby out of his hoodie, her fingers working the zipper down before gripping the fabric and tugging it over his head. He cooperates with a grateful grunt, tossing the "Beers of the Burgh" zip-up carelessly toward a chair.

Now down to his black scrub top, Robby looks lean and intense, the gold Star of David pendant around his neck catching the light. He doesn't waste a second, stepping back into her space and pinning her against the edge of the mattress. His hands find the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly to expose the skin of her stomach.

Jack remains a constant, grounding presence behind her. He slides his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as he begins to unbutton his own shirt. The rhythm is slow and deliberate, the friction of fabric and the heat of their skin creating a thick, electric tension.

"You're both far too focused on the clothes," she teases, glancing back at Jack.

Jack lets out a short, dry chuckle, his voice a low vibration against her spine. "We're just following protocol, darling. Removal of obstacles is step one."

Robby grins, his eyes scanning her face with a hunger that makes her breath hitch. "And I've always been a fan of efficiency."

She reaches out, grabbing the collars of their shirts and pulling them both down onto the bed with a sudden, playful force. The three of them collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and laughter, the mattress dipping under their combined weight.

Robby lands partially on top of her, his chest pressing her into the sheets. He lets out a sharp, surprised laugh, his eyes shimmering with heat. He doesn't miss a beat, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while the other begins to work on the waistband of her pants.

"Impatient, are we?" he murmurs, his beard scratching against her cheek as he nuzzles into her skin. "I can work with that."

Jack settles beside them, his larger frame creating a warm wall of muscle against her side. He's still half-dressed, his shirt hanging open, but he's already focused on her. His hand slides up her thigh, his touch firm and possessive, grounding her even as Robby's intensity threatens to sweep her away.

"You've got us right where you want us," Jack says, his voice a low, steady rumble that vibrates through the mattress. He leans over, pressing a slow, deep kiss to her temple.

She leans in and presses a warm, lingering kiss to Jack's chest as she undresses him, her lips brushing against the steady rhythm of his heart.

Jack lets out a slow, shaky breath, his hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck, holding her there for a heartbeat longer. He remains still, his body humming with a quiet intensity as she works the remaining buttons of his shirt. When the fabric finally slides off his shoulders, he looks at her with an expression of absolute trust, his guarded nature completely gone.

Robby, now bare-chested and impatient, lets out a soft, feline huff from where he lies. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of her hip, pulling her slightly back toward him.

"You're playing favorites," he murmurs, his voice a playful rasp. "I'm just lying here like a discarded piece of medical equipment while he gets all the affection."

She laughs, the sound light and airy in the quiet room. She shifts her weight, balancing between them, her hands moving to the waistbands of their pants.

"Patience, Robby," she teases, glancing between the two men. "I'm getting to you."

Forgetting the clothes for a moment, she pulls them both into a deep, desperate kiss. She bridges the gap between them, her lips moving from Robby's hungry mouth to Jack's steady, grounding presence, weaving them together in a tangle of heat and breath.

The air in the bedroom feels thick, the world outside the four walls of their sanctuary completely erased. Robby responds with his usual intensity, his hand sliding up her back to pull her closer, his fingers digging into her skin with a possessive urgency. He tastes of coffee and raw desire, his kiss demanding and electric.

Jack's response is a slow burn. He wraps his arms around her from behind, his chest a warm wall against her spine. He doesn't rush; instead, he kisses the hollow of her throat, his breath hot against her skin, grounding the chaos of Robby's energy with his own silent, unwavering strength.

"To hell with the clothes," Robby mumbles against her lips, his voice a gravelly wreck.

In a flurry of motion, the last remaining barriers vanish. Robby kicks his cargo pants away with a sharp movement, and Jack helps slide her pants down her legs in one fluid motion. They end up stripped bare, skin meeting skin in a feverish rush.

The remaining fabric is cast aside, leaving them completely exposed to one another in the soft morning light. There's a heavy, electric silence that follows, broken only by the sound of their synchronized, heavy breathing. They've been apart for a week—lost to the grueling demands of the hospital and the museum—and the pent-up need manifests in the way they cling to her.

Robby sinks into her touch with a needy, almost desperate sigh, while Jack's hands remain firm and guiding, grounding the experience.

"I've missed you both so much," she whispers, pulling them closer into her space.

The admission seems to break something in Robby. He lets out a shaky breath and buries his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her with an intensity that borders on desperate. He isn't his usual sarcastic self; the armor of the Senior Attending has completely crumbled, leaving behind a man who is simply starved for affection.

"Tell me again," Robby murmurs, his voice muffled against her skin. "I need to hear it."

Jack's response is quieter but no less potent. He shifts, bringing his weight over her in a way that feels like a warm, protective blanket. He kisses her jaw, his hand sliding down to interlock his fingers with hers, pressing her hand firmly against the mattress.

"We've both been drowning this week," Jack says, his voice a low, grounding rumble. "You're the only thing that feels real right now."

He leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that is slow and deep, tasting of a long-awaited homecoming. While Robby continues to nuzzle her neck, leaving a trail of heat in his wake, Jack's presence remains the steady anchor, his body pressing her deep into the sheets.

"I want to feel both of you," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of their breathing.

Robby reacts instantly. He shifts his weight, sliding his body lower and pressing his hips firmly against hers. He lets out a ragged sigh, his forehead resting against hers as he looks at her with a raw, unfiltered hunger. There's no sarcasm left in him, only a desperate need to be close. He begins to move against her in a slow, tentative rhythm, testing the friction, his breath coming in short, sharp hitches.

Jack remains the steady anchor, though his composure is fraying. He shifts his position, sliding one arm beneath her neck to lift her slightly, while his other hand travels down to her thigh. He pulls her leg up and over his hip, opening her up to Robby's touch.

"Right here," Jack murmurs, his voice a low rumble that resonates through her entire body. He presses a firm, searing kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, his teeth grazing her lightly.

The combination is overwhelming—Robby's frantic, needy heat in front of her and Jack's methodical, grounding passion behind her. The air in the room is thick with the scent of salt and skin, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as they lose themselves in each other.

"Take it slow," she whispers, pulling them both closer, her voice a soft command that cuts through the thick tension.

Robby lets out a shuddering breath, his forehead resting against hers. He remains still for a moment, fighting the urge to rush, his muscles coiled like a spring. He closes his eyes, focusing on the scent of her skin and the gentle pressure of her embrace. The desperation in him shifts into something deeper, a focused kind of longing that makes his touch more deliberate.

He begins to trail kisses along her jawline, slow and searing, while his hand slides from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her firmly against his heat.

Behind her, Jack responds to the request with his usual steady precision. He shifts his weight, his chest expanding against her back in a slow, rhythmic breath. His hand moves from her thigh to her waist, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles into her skin. He avoids the frantic energy of the moment, instead opting for a patient, grounding pressure that anchors her.

"We've got all day," Jack murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through her spine.

He leans over, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of her shoulder, his lips barely skimming the surface.

"I want you both," she whispers, arching her back into them.

The movement bridges the remaining gap, pressing her curves firmly against their heat. Robby lets out a strangled sound, a mix of a groan and a sigh, as he feels the full length of her. He shifts his weight, his hand sliding from her back to the curve of her hip, gripping her with a sudden, possessive strength. He looks at her, his eyes dark and dilated, his gaze searching hers for permission before he leans in to claim her lips again.

Behind her, Jack's composure finally snaps. The steady, grounding presence remains, but it's now laced with a raw, hungry edge. He doesn't hesitate, his hand sliding from her waist to between her thighs, his fingers finding her with a precision that makes her breath hitch. He moves slowly, mirroring her request for patience, but the intensity of his touch speaks of a week's worth of bottled-up longing.

"You have no idea," Jack murmurs against her skin, his voice a gravelly shadow of its usual self, "how much I've needed this."

Robby pulls back just an inch, his breath hot against her mouth. He looks over her shoulder at Jack, a silent communication passing between the two men. The competitiveness is gone, replaced by a shared, singular focus on her.

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🎮interactive fanfic "Day Off" by Alexander_Black

She leans back into Jack's steady frame, letting her head rest against his shoulder while her hands reach out to pull Robby closer. The movement brings Robby's chest flush against her own, his breath hitching as he feels her urgency.

Robby's hands slide from her waist down to her hips, gripping her with a sudden, possessive intensity. He tilts his head, his beard grazing her jawline before he captures her lips in a deep, demanding kiss. It's a sharp contrast to the sleepy tenderness of the living room; the air in the small bathroom suddenly feels heavy and humid.

Behind her, Jack's hands travel upward, sliding beneath the hem of her vintage cardigan. His palms are warm, his touch deliberate as he maps the curve of her ribs. He nuzzles into the crook of her neck, his lips pressing firm, slow kisses against her skin that send shivers racing down her spine.

"Shower's a waste of time," Robby murmurs against her lips, his voice dropping an octave into a gravelly rasp.

He breaks the kiss just enough to glance back at Jack. A silent agreement passes between them, a spark of shared mischief and hunger. Robby's hands begin to wander, tugging at the edges of her clothing with a restlessness that suggests he's completely forgotten why they entered the bathroom in the first place.

She reaches back for Jack and forward for Robby, guiding them out of the bathroom and back toward the bedroom. They move as a single, clumsy unit, a tangle of limbs and frantic breath. The short walk is barely a walk at all; it's a slow, stumbling dance of redirected energy.

Robby keeps his lips pressed against her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that makes her toes curl. His hands are busy, his fingers hooking into the hem of her cardigan and pulling it upward. He pauses just long enough to shoot Jack a look of intense focus, a silent request for backup.

Jack is more than happy to oblige. From behind, he helps guide the fabric over her head, his hands lingering on her bare shoulders for a moment, his palms warm and rough. He lets the cardigan fall to the floor in a heap of vintage knit, his touch immediately returning to the curve of her waist.

"Much better," Robby murmurs, his voice a low vibration. He stops her in the middle of the room, his eyes dark as he looks at her. He reaches for the buttons of his own hoodie, his fingers slightly unsteady. "I think we've had quite enough of 'getting ready' for one morning."

She reaches out and helps Robby out of his hoodie, her fingers working the zipper down before gripping the fabric and tugging it over his head. He cooperates with a grateful grunt, tossing the "Beers of the Burgh" zip-up carelessly toward a chair.

Now down to his black scrub top, Robby looks lean and intense, the gold Star of David pendant around his neck catching the light. He doesn't waste a second, stepping back into her space and pinning her against the edge of the mattress. His hands find the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly to expose the skin of her stomach.

Jack remains a constant, grounding presence behind her. He slides his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as he begins to unbutton his own shirt. The rhythm is slow and deliberate, the friction of fabric and the heat of their skin creating a thick, electric tension.

"You're both far too focused on the clothes," she teases, glancing back at Jack.

Jack lets out a short, dry chuckle, his voice a low vibration against her spine. "We're just following protocol, darling. Removal of obstacles is step one."

Robby grins, his eyes scanning her face with a hunger that makes her breath hitch. "And I've always been a fan of efficiency."

She reaches out, grabbing the collars of their shirts and pulling them both down onto the bed with a sudden, playful force. The three of them collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and laughter, the mattress dipping under their combined weight.

Robby lands partially on top of her, his chest pressing her into the sheets. He lets out a sharp, surprised laugh, his eyes shimmering with heat. He doesn't miss a beat, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while the other begins to work on the waistband of her pants.

"Impatient, are we?" he murmurs, his beard scratching against her cheek as he nuzzles into her skin. "I can work with that."

Jack settles beside them, his larger frame creating a warm wall of muscle against her side. He's still half-dressed, his shirt hanging open, but he's already focused on her. His hand slides up her thigh, his touch firm and possessive, grounding her even as Robby's intensity threatens to sweep her away.

"You've got us right where you want us," Jack says, his voice a low, steady rumble that vibrates through the mattress. He leans over, pressing a slow, deep kiss to her temple.

She leans in and presses a warm, lingering kiss to Jack's chest as she undresses him, her lips brushing against the steady rhythm of his heart.

Jack lets out a slow, shaky breath, his hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck, holding her there for a heartbeat longer. He remains still, his body humming with a quiet intensity as she works the remaining buttons of his shirt. When the fabric finally slides off his shoulders, he looks at her with an expression of absolute trust, his guarded nature completely gone.

Robby, now bare-chested and impatient, lets out a soft, feline huff from where he lies. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of her hip, pulling her slightly back toward him.

"You're playing favorites," he murmurs, his voice a playful rasp. "I'm just lying here like a discarded piece of medical equipment while he gets all the affection."

She laughs, the sound light and airy in the quiet room. She shifts her weight, balancing between them, her hands moving to the waistbands of their pants.

"Patience, Robby," she teases, glancing between the two men. "I'm getting to you."

Forgetting the clothes for a moment, she pulls them both into a deep, desperate kiss. She bridges the gap between them, her lips moving from Robby's hungry mouth to Jack's steady, grounding presence, weaving them together in a tangle of heat and breath.

The air in the bedroom feels thick, the world outside the four walls of their sanctuary completely erased. Robby responds with his usual intensity, his hand sliding up her back to pull her closer, his fingers digging into her skin with a possessive urgency. He tastes of coffee and raw desire, his kiss demanding and electric.

Jack's response is a slow burn. He wraps his arms around her from behind, his chest a warm wall against her spine. He doesn't rush; instead, he kisses the hollow of her throat, his breath hot against her skin, grounding the chaos of Robby's energy with his own silent, unwavering strength.

"To hell with the clothes," Robby mumbles against her lips, his voice a gravelly wreck.

In a flurry of motion, the last remaining barriers vanish. Robby kicks his cargo pants away with a sharp movement, and Jack helps slide her pants down her legs in one fluid motion. They end up stripped bare, skin meeting skin in a feverish rush.

The remaining fabric is cast aside, leaving them completely exposed to one another in the soft morning light. There's a heavy, electric silence that follows, broken only by the sound of their synchronized, heavy breathing. They've been apart for a week—lost to the grueling demands of the hospital and the museum—and the pent-up need manifests in the way they cling to her.

Robby sinks into her touch with a needy, almost desperate sigh, while Jack's hands remain firm and guiding, grounding the experience.

"I've missed you both so much," she whispers, pulling them closer into her space.

The admission seems to break something in Robby. He lets out a shaky breath and buries his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her with an intensity that borders on desperate. He isn't his usual sarcastic self; the armor of the Senior Attending has completely crumbled, leaving behind a man who is simply starved for affection.

"Tell me again," Robby murmurs, his voice muffled against her skin. "I need to hear it."

Jack's response is quieter but no less potent. He shifts, bringing his weight over her in a way that feels like a warm, protective blanket. He kisses her jaw, his hand sliding down to interlock his fingers with hers, pressing her hand firmly against the mattress.

"We've both been drowning this week," Jack says, his voice a low, grounding rumble. "You're the only thing that feels real right now."

He leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that is slow and deep, tasting of a long-awaited homecoming. While Robby continues to nuzzle her neck, leaving a trail of heat in his wake, Jack's presence remains the steady anchor, his body pressing her deep into the sheets.

"I want to feel both of you," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of their breathing.

Robby reacts instantly. He shifts his weight, sliding his body lower and pressing his hips firmly against hers. He lets out a ragged sigh, his forehead resting against hers as he looks at her with a raw, unfiltered hunger. There's no sarcasm left in him, only a desperate need to be close. He begins to move against her in a slow, tentative rhythm, testing the friction, his breath coming in short, sharp hitches.

Jack remains the steady anchor, though his composure is fraying. He shifts his position, sliding one arm beneath her neck to lift her slightly, while his other hand travels down to her thigh. He pulls her leg up and over his hip, opening her up to Robby's touch.

"Right here," Jack murmurs, his voice a low rumble that resonates through her entire body. He presses a firm, searing kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, his teeth grazing her lightly.

The combination is overwhelming—Robby's frantic, needy heat in front of her and Jack's methodical, grounding passion behind her. The air in the room is thick with the scent of salt and skin, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as they lose themselves in each other.

"Take it slow," she whispers, pulling them both closer, her voice a soft command that cuts through the thick tension.

Robby lets out a shuddering breath, his forehead resting against hers. He remains still for a moment, fighting the urge to rush, his muscles coiled like a spring. He closes his eyes, focusing on the scent of her skin and the gentle pressure of her embrace. The desperation in him shifts into something deeper, a focused kind of longing that makes his touch more deliberate.

He begins to trail kisses along her jawline, slow and searing, while his hand slides from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her firmly against his heat.

Behind her, Jack responds to the request with his usual steady precision. He shifts his weight, his chest expanding against her back in a slow, rhythmic breath. His hand moves from her thigh to her waist, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles into her skin. He avoids the frantic energy of the moment, instead opting for a patient, grounding pressure that anchors her.

"We've got all day," Jack murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through her spine.

He leans over, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of her shoulder, his lips barely skimming the surface.

"I want you both," she whispers, arching her back into them.

The movement bridges the remaining gap, pressing her curves firmly against their heat. Robby lets out a strangled sound, a mix of a groan and a sigh, as he feels the full length of her. He shifts his weight, his hand sliding from her back to the curve of her hip, gripping her with a sudden, possessive strength. He looks at her, his eyes dark and dilated, his gaze searching hers for permission before he leans in to claim her lips again.

Behind her, Jack's composure finally snaps. The steady, grounding presence remains, but it's now laced with a raw, hungry edge. He doesn't hesitate, his hand sliding from her waist to between her thighs, his fingers finding her with a precision that makes her breath hitch. He moves slowly, mirroring her request for patience, but the intensity of his touch speaks of a week's worth of bottled-up longing.

"You have no idea," Jack murmurs against her skin, his voice a gravelly shadow of its usual self, "how much I've needed this."

Robby pulls back just an inch, his breath hot against her mouth. He looks over her shoulder at Jack, a silent communication passing between the two men. The competitiveness is gone, replaced by a shared, singular focus on her.

Wanna make your own choices and see what happens next? READ/PLAY HERE! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

🎮interactive fanfic "Day Off" by Alexander_Black

There's a pin-up in the Lounge with a long list of everyone's birth dates with balloon clipart placed crookedly at the top, so surely someone will have remembered and gotten you a cheap cupcake, or even just a basic card with a couple signatures scrawled within.

As you take a peek inside while passing by, however, you see nothing of the sort awaiting you. Just an empty table, and counter space full of upside down mugs and a coffee machine—same as ever.

Deflating, you mentally shrug and make your way to your locker. It's better this way. Had anyone remembered—or just known in general—then word would spread like wildfire all the way up to reception, meaning you'd have to awkwardly thank every well wisher who crossed your path for the remainder of your shift.

Saves you the trouble.

You're working up an individual who came in complaining of lower back pain and difficulty urinating—which you've pretty well chalked up to most likely being kidney stones—when Robby raps his knuckles against the propped open door behind you.

Glancing to him over your shoulder, you briefly halt your assessment of your patient. "Yeah?"

He beckons you forth with an index finger. "C'mere, something I need to talk to you about." He feigns a smile for the middle-aged man in front of you and states that you'll be back momentarily.

Following him out, Robby pulls you into an empty room and shuts the door after you've entered.

"Is something wrong?" You ask innocently while gazing up at him with furrowed brows.

"Do you remember the woman from earlier? Mrs. Jacobson?"

You nod.

"She's been up in Plastics waiting for an hour to be seen because her chart was never finished down here."

Your stomach sinks. You'd meant to get to that before being side-tracked by needing to use the restroom, and then there'd been a thing with Whittaker's patient vomiting all over the floor, so you'd fetched housekeeping, and then—

"So imagine my surprise when one of their nurses takes time out of her day to come down asking after it and I find out you've already moved onto another patient."

You open your mouth to reply, until he holds up a palm to stop you.

"You know our protocol," Robby says sternly. "If they're being referred to another floor or physician, you make sure their information is up to date and their chart complete before you begin work on anything else." He takes a small step forward, and you shrink into yourself.

With him towering over you like this, you feel like a child being scolded by its parent after it forgot to do an assigned chore on the daily chart.

"So I trust you have a good reason why you didn't do as much," he states while folding his arms.

You blink back tears. "I—I forgot. I'm so—"

He throws his head back, pinches the bridge of his nose, then returns to his previous stance. "That's no excuse for being neglectful. Gloria is up my ass all day long about patient satisfaction bullshit and now this!"

Your chin wobbles.

"Get back in there," he says while pointing at the wall to the right, where your patient awaits your return on the other side, "Finish up with what you're currently doing, then get both charts done. Understood?"

You nod while sniffling. "Y-Yes."

He rolls his eyes, then steps past you to the door. Once he's opened it and waved you out, you scurry past him in a panic.

You keep your head down for the remainder of the day. Figuratively and literally. You're diligent in your work, and hold your bladder so long at one point—just to get a bit more charting done—that you nearly have an accident in the hallway.

When evening time rolls around and your workday is coming to a close, Robby goes in search of you to apologize for his earlier treatment after his temper has cooled, but when he comes into your line-of-sight, you turn and hurry in the other direction.

Thinking he may be able to catch you outside, he makes for the doors to the ambulance bay and only just catches the sight of you speed-walking past Abbot while mumbling a quick 'Goodnight' before marching on.

"The hell did you do to our girl?" Abbot asks while readjusting the strap of the camo backpack that's slung over his shoulder.

Robby sighs and sinks his hands into the pockets of his coat. "She got behind on a patient's chart who went upstairs and I might've been a little hard on her about it because I was already in a mood. She's been avoiding me all day because of it."

Jack glares at him. "So, in other words, you've been taking frustrations with HR bullshit out on our star pupil?"

He shakes his head and goes to step away.

"Do you want her to leave us for Westbridge?" Jack calls from behind him.

Gritting his teeth and looking skyward, Robby huffs in irritation before turning back on his heel. "She isn't that damn fragile, Jack."

He shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not. But you get snippy with her again and I'll put her on night shift with me."

Robby curses lowly. "It was one conversation. You don't need to jump to extremes just because you want her all to yourself."

Jack purses his lips and Robby smirks. "Since we both know that that's what this whole conversation is truly about—less her and more you."

Turning his back on him, the vet shoots up a middle finger before hobbling inside.

On the way home, you pick up a small cupcake that's your favorite flavor and decorated with pretty, sparkly swirls of icing on top, as well as a small pack of multi-color birthday candles.

Once you're settled in for the night, you save the sugary treat for dessert after eating a filling dinner.

Sitting in the silence of your apartment, you quietly sing 'Happy birthday to me' before blowing out the singular candle stuck in the middle of your pastry before plucking it out and taking a bite.

Somehow by eating it alone, however, it doesn't taste as good as you'd hoped.

"Oh! Oh, Y/N!" Mohan calls from the nurses station.

You glance up from the manilla folder you're currently carrying to Trauma 4 and meet her smile with a raised brow.

"We're playing this game that involves astrological signs," she explains.

Santos shakes her head. "It's stupid. Trust me, you do not wanna bother."

Whittaker grins. "I dunno, I think it's kinda neat."

"What's yours?" Samira asks.

You clutch the folder to your chest and snicker. "No offense or anything, but I don't believe in all that. I just think the definitions are broad enough that you can make things fit if you really want to."

When you make to step away, she shrugs and begins typing. "Well, I could just pull up your employee profile to figure it out for myself."

Your eyes grow wide when you turn back in her direction. Tripping over your own feet, you stumble over to where she sits. "Oh, no, that's fine! I could just tell you what it is. I'm a—"

"Oh," she says with slight surprise.

"What, is she the crab or whatever?" Trinity asks.

Mohan looks up to you with knitted brows. "Your birthday was yesterday."

You don't see it, but Robby, who's standing a handful of feet behind you reading over an EKG, turns to look in your direction over his glasses.

Jack, who's just exited an exam room, meets his gaze and shakes his head. Not because he's disappointed in Robby per se, but rather the both of them for not knowing, or so much as making an effort to keep such an important date in mind.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Mel questions while walking over.

"I..." You grasp for explanation.

"Yeah, we would've gotten you something," Mohan reassures sweetly.

"Maybe Huckleberry could get you a pumpkin from the farm," Trinity adds sarcastically.

"It's just another day on a calendar," you say quietly. "It isn't important." Just another year spent alone, you think.

Jack's heart shatters for you.

"Well that's depressing," Trin commentates before pushing off the counter and getting back to work.

You swallow thickly while taking a step back. "I'm just gonna—" You wave the folder you currently hold in the air before walking away.

"How did you not know?" Jack questions from beside Robby.

Throwing his glasses down on the surface before him, which his elbows rest upon, he runs his hands down his face. "I had other things on my mind, like taking care of patients. Not cake and balloon animals," he says while clasping his palms together and turning his head in Jack's direction.

Jack crosses his arms. "She got you a gift for yours, or have you already forgotten that fact?"

It'd been simple, but handmade. Which made the item mean even more to him: an embroidered piece. The Shema Prayer in Hebrew. When you found him during PittFest in Peds, you'd heard him reciting it. Had gone so far as to ask quietly about it later.

He cried the night he hung it up in his home because you had cared enough to make such a loving gesture in the first place while the others simply purchased a cheap card from a Hallmark store down the street.

"Of course I remember," he says lowly. "I touch it every night when I get home and every morning before I leave. Because she's the one it came from."

You'd pulled him aside that day—had held the tips of his fingers as you led him into the Lounge before presenting it to him with shaking hands.

"The letters might be a little crooked," you'd explained quietly. "But I did my best."

His eyes had grown glassy as he cradled it between his palms.

"Do... Do you not like it? That day... Maybe I've upset you—"

He'd shook his head while sniffling. And then he'd smiled. "No, sweetheart, it's perfect. Thank you...for being so thoughtful."

It'd felt so right when he pulled you against his chest before wrapping his arms around you.

"Then we need to fix this," Jack retorts.

He nods. "I know."

"Hey, doll," Dana calls to you while adjusting her hair clip.

"Yes?"

"Somebody dropped off some snacks earlier in the Employee Lounge. One of those assorted chip boxes. Go grab ya a couple before everybody else takes 'em."

"Oh. Okay."

Heading in that direction, you secretly hope that there's Cheetos. Or maybe white cheddar popcorn. Classic Lays sounds good, too, though.

Alright, so maybe you're feeling just a bit peckish.

Swinging around the corner and into the aforementioned room, you halt in your tracks. Sitting atop the table that's pushed off to the side is a glass vase filled to the brim with soft pink roses and baby's breath. Clutching it is a fluffy brown teddy bear.

It's not... It's not for you, though. You know that.

Glancing around, you fail to spot the box in question. Maybe it's already been emptied?

Sighing with disappointment, you turn to exit, but are stopped by Robby blocking the doorway. Leaning against it with crossed arms, he smiles warmly at you. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

Your eyes flit between his as a lump develops in your throat. "It... It's for me?"

He nods, then glances to it while jerking his chin in the direction of your gift. "Read the card."

Turning around yet again, you wander over to it and pull the item in question from the cardette.

The day of your birth is more than worth celebrating. Without it, we wouldn't be able to look forward to seeing you every day.

Love, J & R

Tears brim in your eyes and you sniffle quietly. Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you keep hold of the item while repeatedly telling yourself not to cry.

You jump slightly when the chair next to you is pulled out and Jack seats himself heavily upon it. "Do you like it, then?"

You nod and a tear slips down your cheek.

Coming to stand at your side, Robby pulls you against the wealth of his chest just like before, which you snuggle contentedly against, appreciating the softness and warmth it provides.

"I always wanted flowers delivered," you whisper. "On my birthday. Or...Valentine's Day."

Jack's eyes flit to Robby, who smirks and gives him a knowing look. Future plans.

"But never had anyone who'd..." You trail off. "Well, never had anyone."

Jack grabs your hand and tugs you down onto his thigh. "Getting a cake delivered last minute was sort of out of the question, but—"

You shake your head. "I got myself a cupcake last night."

Somehow, that makes the pair of them feel impossibly worse about the whole situation: the thought of you at home having just a singular cupcake on your lonesome. They'll certainly be unlikely to forget your birthday next year, if nothing else.

Brendan "The Shark" Park

Micheal Robinavitch

Jack Abbot

Dennis Whittaker

Frank Langdon

She leans back into Jack's steady frame, letting her head rest against his shoulder while her hands reach out to pull Robby closer. The movement brings Robby's chest flush against her own, his breath hitching as he feels her urgency.

Robby's hands slide from her waist down to her hips, gripping her with a sudden, possessive intensity. He tilts his head, his beard grazing her jawline before he captures her lips in a deep, demanding kiss. It's a sharp contrast to the sleepy tenderness of the living room; the air in the small bathroom suddenly feels heavy and humid.

Behind her, Jack's hands travel upward, sliding beneath the hem of her vintage cardigan. His palms are warm, his touch deliberate as he maps the curve of her ribs. He nuzzles into the crook of her neck, his lips pressing firm, slow kisses against her skin that send shivers racing down her spine.

"Shower's a waste of time," Robby murmurs against her lips, his voice dropping an octave into a gravelly rasp.

He breaks the kiss just enough to glance back at Jack. A silent agreement passes between them, a spark of shared mischief and hunger. Robby's hands begin to wander, tugging at the edges of her clothing with a restlessness that suggests he's completely forgotten why they entered the bathroom in the first place.

She reaches back for Jack and forward for Robby, guiding them out of the bathroom and back toward the bedroom. They move as a single, clumsy unit, a tangle of limbs and frantic breath. The short walk is barely a walk at all; it's a slow, stumbling dance of redirected energy.

Robby keeps his lips pressed against her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that makes her toes curl. His hands are busy, his fingers hooking into the hem of her cardigan and pulling it upward. He pauses just long enough to shoot Jack a look of intense focus, a silent request for backup.

Jack is more than happy to oblige. From behind, he helps guide the fabric over her head, his hands lingering on her bare shoulders for a moment, his palms warm and rough. He lets the cardigan fall to the floor in a heap of vintage knit, his touch immediately returning to the curve of her waist.

"Much better," Robby murmurs, his voice a low vibration. He stops her in the middle of the room, his eyes dark as he looks at her. He reaches for the buttons of his own hoodie, his fingers slightly unsteady. "I think we've had quite enough of 'getting ready' for one morning."

She reaches out and helps Robby out of his hoodie, her fingers working the zipper down before gripping the fabric and tugging it over his head. He cooperates with a grateful grunt, tossing the "Beers of the Burgh" zip-up carelessly toward a chair.

Now down to his black scrub top, Robby looks lean and intense, the gold Star of David pendant around his neck catching the light. He doesn't waste a second, stepping back into her space and pinning her against the edge of the mattress. His hands find the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly to expose the skin of her stomach.

Jack remains a constant, grounding presence behind her. He slides his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as he begins to unbutton his own shirt. The rhythm is slow and deliberate, the friction of fabric and the heat of their skin creating a thick, electric tension.

"You're both far too focused on the clothes," she teases, glancing back at Jack.

Jack lets out a short, dry chuckle, his voice a low vibration against her spine. "We're just following protocol, darling. Removal of obstacles is step one."

Robby grins, his eyes scanning her face with a hunger that makes her breath hitch. "And I've always been a fan of efficiency."

She reaches out, grabbing the collars of their shirts and pulling them both down onto the bed with a sudden, playful force. The three of them collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and laughter, the mattress dipping under their combined weight.

Robby lands partially on top of her, his chest pressing her into the sheets. He lets out a sharp, surprised laugh, his eyes shimmering with heat. He doesn't miss a beat, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while the other begins to work on the waistband of her pants.

"Impatient, are we?" he murmurs, his beard scratching against her cheek as he nuzzles into her skin. "I can work with that."

Jack settles beside them, his larger frame creating a warm wall of muscle against her side. He's still half-dressed, his shirt hanging open, but he's already focused on her. His hand slides up her thigh, his touch firm and possessive, grounding her even as Robby's intensity threatens to sweep her away.

"You've got us right where you want us," Jack says, his voice a low, steady rumble that vibrates through the mattress. He leans over, pressing a slow, deep kiss to her temple.

She leans in and presses a warm, lingering kiss to Jack's chest as she undresses him, her lips brushing against the steady rhythm of his heart.

Jack lets out a slow, shaky breath, his hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck, holding her there for a heartbeat longer. He remains still, his body humming with a quiet intensity as she works the remaining buttons of his shirt. When the fabric finally slides off his shoulders, he looks at her with an expression of absolute trust, his guarded nature completely gone.

Robby, now bare-chested and impatient, lets out a soft, feline huff from where he lies. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of her hip, pulling her slightly back toward him.

"You're playing favorites," he murmurs, his voice a playful rasp. "I'm just lying here like a discarded piece of medical equipment while he gets all the affection."

She laughs, the sound light and airy in the quiet room. She shifts her weight, balancing between them, her hands moving to the waistbands of their pants.

"Patience, Robby," she teases, glancing between the two men. "I'm getting to you."

Forgetting the clothes for a moment, she pulls them both into a deep, desperate kiss. She bridges the gap between them, her lips moving from Robby's hungry mouth to Jack's steady, grounding presence, weaving them together in a tangle of heat and breath.

The air in the bedroom feels thick, the world outside the four walls of their sanctuary completely erased. Robby responds with his usual intensity, his hand sliding up her back to pull her closer, his fingers digging into her skin with a possessive urgency. He tastes of coffee and raw desire, his kiss demanding and electric.

Jack's response is a slow burn. He wraps his arms around her from behind, his chest a warm wall against her spine. He doesn't rush; instead, he kisses the hollow of her throat, his breath hot against her skin, grounding the chaos of Robby's energy with his own silent, unwavering strength.

"To hell with the clothes," Robby mumbles against her lips, his voice a gravelly wreck.

In a flurry of motion, the last remaining barriers vanish. Robby kicks his cargo pants away with a sharp movement, and Jack helps slide her pants down her legs in one fluid motion. They end up stripped bare, skin meeting skin in a feverish rush.

The remaining fabric is cast aside, leaving them completely exposed to one another in the soft morning light. There's a heavy, electric silence that follows, broken only by the sound of their synchronized, heavy breathing. They've been apart for a week—lost to the grueling demands of the hospital and the museum—and the pent-up need manifests in the way they cling to her.

Robby sinks into her touch with a needy, almost desperate sigh, while Jack's hands remain firm and guiding, grounding the experience.

"I've missed you both so much," she whispers, pulling them closer into her space.

The admission seems to break something in Robby. He lets out a shaky breath and buries his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her with an intensity that borders on desperate. He isn't his usual sarcastic self; the armor of the Senior Attending has completely crumbled, leaving behind a man who is simply starved for affection.

"Tell me again," Robby murmurs, his voice muffled against her skin. "I need to hear it."

Jack's response is quieter but no less potent. He shifts, bringing his weight over her in a way that feels like a warm, protective blanket. He kisses her jaw, his hand sliding down to interlock his fingers with hers, pressing her hand firmly against the mattress.

"We've both been drowning this week," Jack says, his voice a low, grounding rumble. "You're the only thing that feels real right now."

He leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that is slow and deep, tasting of a long-awaited homecoming. While Robby continues to nuzzle her neck, leaving a trail of heat in his wake, Jack's presence remains the steady anchor, his body pressing her deep into the sheets.

"I want to feel both of you," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of their breathing.

Robby reacts instantly. He shifts his weight, sliding his body lower and pressing his hips firmly against hers. He lets out a ragged sigh, his forehead resting against hers as he looks at her with a raw, unfiltered hunger. There's no sarcasm left in him, only a desperate need to be close. He begins to move against her in a slow, tentative rhythm, testing the friction, his breath coming in short, sharp hitches.

Jack remains the steady anchor, though his composure is fraying. He shifts his position, sliding one arm beneath her neck to lift her slightly, while his other hand travels down to her thigh. He pulls her leg up and over his hip, opening her up to Robby's touch.

"Right here," Jack murmurs, his voice a low rumble that resonates through her entire body. He presses a firm, searing kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, his teeth grazing her lightly.

The combination is overwhelming—Robby's frantic, needy heat in front of her and Jack's methodical, grounding passion behind her. The air in the room is thick with the scent of salt and skin, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as they lose themselves in each other.

"Take it slow," she whispers, pulling them both closer, her voice a soft command that cuts through the thick tension.

Robby lets out a shuddering breath, his forehead resting against hers. He remains still for a moment, fighting the urge to rush, his muscles coiled like a spring. He closes his eyes, focusing on the scent of her skin and the gentle pressure of her embrace. The desperation in him shifts into something deeper, a focused kind of longing that makes his touch more deliberate.

He begins to trail kisses along her jawline, slow and searing, while his hand slides from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her firmly against his heat.

Behind her, Jack responds to the request with his usual steady precision. He shifts his weight, his chest expanding against her back in a slow, rhythmic breath. His hand moves from her thigh to her waist, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles into her skin. He avoids the frantic energy of the moment, instead opting for a patient, grounding pressure that anchors her.

"We've got all day," Jack murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through her spine.

He leans over, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of her shoulder, his lips barely skimming the surface.

"I want you both," she whispers, arching her back into them.

The movement bridges the remaining gap, pressing her curves firmly against their heat. Robby lets out a strangled sound, a mix of a groan and a sigh, as he feels the full length of her. He shifts his weight, his hand sliding from her back to the curve of her hip, gripping her with a sudden, possessive strength. He looks at her, his eyes dark and dilated, his gaze searching hers for permission before he leans in to claim her lips again.

Behind her, Jack's composure finally snaps. The steady, grounding presence remains, but it's now laced with a raw, hungry edge. He doesn't hesitate, his hand sliding from her waist to between her thighs, his fingers finding her with a precision that makes her breath hitch. He moves slowly, mirroring her request for patience, but the intensity of his touch speaks of a week's worth of bottled-up longing.

"You have no idea," Jack murmurs against her skin, his voice a gravelly shadow of its usual self, "how much I've needed this."

Robby pulls back just an inch, his breath hot against her mouth. He looks over her shoulder at Jack, a silent communication passing between the two men. The competitiveness is gone, replaced by a shared, singular focus on her.

Wanna make your own choices and see what happens next? READ/PLAY HERE! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

🎮interactive fanfic "Day Off" by Alexander_Black