Empty Space

my dear michael

a farewell letter from jack to robby when he doesn't came back from the sabbatical, super inspired by Mary's letter to Arthur in RDR2

****************************************************

Standing there like a creep, Robby hovered in the doorway with the clothes that were haphazardly thrown on the floor fully back on his body. He stood in the dark with only the moonlight peeking through the curtains to illuminate the man in the bed.

His freckles were paler in the moonlight, but his curls caught it in all the right places, showing how messed up and ruffled it got from Robby’s continuous hold on it. Jacks good leg peeked out from under the covers, a bare leg that slightly twitched randomly. He was fully sprawled out, having taken hold of a pillow in replace of Robby’s body once he had left the bed. He looked… content.

He looks beautiful, Robby thinks.

This was years in the making, truly. Their closer then normal friendship slowly bled into a camaraderie that could only come from sharing the same horrors of their job. In those years, anytime they blurred the line further with legs sprawled out on the other during movie nights or hugs with hands that lingered, Robby wished he had the guts to take the last step.

In the end, it was Jack. Jack slowly but surely crowded Robby and asked him the gentlest of tones if “this is okay?”

And it was. It was okay, because soon enough Robby’s hands found Jacks hair, his back, his hips. It was all okay until the quietest hours hit and all that could be heard in Jacks apartment was the soft snores of both men resting peaveful by each others side.

Well, one man. Jack was out like a light, grabbing onto Robby with a loose grip around the man’s waist as his arm rested there. As for Robby, he tried to regulate his breathing, shut his eyes close, and will sleep to come his way. It didn’t.

He got out of bed in hopes to salvage their friendship. He got out of bed so Jack had the rook to back track. He got out of bed because he had spent so many years denying himself this very thing.

Yet, there is a part of him that is so tired of running. It certainly doesn’t help that he now knows how it feels to kiss the other man, or hold him, or just be given the chance to be with him with a. level of intimacy they have never crossed before but one that Robby had been yearning for too long.

Maybe, it is time to allow himself a comfort. In the morning, he’ll feel a wave of shame and guilt that is not quite justified that Jack will have to reassure him that he is not evil for wanting or acting upon this.

His legs are slowly dragging him back to the bed. He quickly unzips his pants to allow them to fall to the ground. Once he is just in boxers and a loose t-shirt that now looking at is definitely Jacks, Robby climbs back into bed. I’ll feel guilty about this but that can wait for the morning, he thinks.

His rustling and tossing to get back into bed ends up waking up Jack who slightly cracks his eyes open as he lazily reaches out for Robby.

“What’s wrong, Rob?” Jack croaks out, his voice deepening from the hours he spent asleep.

“Shhh, nothing, go back to bed,” Robby whispers back as he gets a hold of Jack once more who quickly cuddles up to Robby’s side.

“Mmkay,” Jack replies while his eyes fall again and he is out like a light, content to just be next to Robby.

And, god, he looks so comfortable like this. A part of Robby doesn’t believe he deserves such an intimate sight, but his eyes are becoming so heavy as Jacks weight on his side warms him up.

"Did you know that Whittaker has a crush on you?"

"No he doesn't." Robby says mildly, barely looking up from his book. Jack sighs theatrically.

"You're blind. That kid wants to jump your bones."

Robby shuts his book, takes off his glasses, and give Jack an unimpressed look. "Don't be crass."

"Brother, that is not me being crass. He look at you like he's waiting-"

Robby lunges across the bed to try and cover his husband's mouth with minimal sucess. He still hears 'for daddy to take care of him' enunciated loudly behind his palm before Jack licks it.

"You're disgusting."

Jack shrugs. "Yet you still married me as soon as gay marriage got legalized in Pittsburgh."

"And I regret it every day."

"You practically ran to the courthouse. Dana was our only witness."

Unfortunately, Robby knows that he'll never win this argument as long as they both live. He had alerts on his phone and computer for news articles about the official ruling. When the news had come through in the middle of his shift, he'd called Jack and told him to call in sick to work, roped Dana into being their witness, and ordered rings from a jewler in the nearby mall from their current stock. Robby had also begged Adamson to let him leave early so they could get there before the courthouse closed. His mentor had pretended to be reluctant but gave him a long hug before they left. He remembers the pressure of Adamson's arms around him more than he remembers anything else about that interaction.

Sentimentality however, will absolutely not get his husband to stop talking about whether or not one of his residents has a crush on him. So instead of going high, he goes low.

"I wouldn't mind it, Dennis looks a lot like you did at that age."

"Excuse me?"

"Pretty strong, nice head of curls, big, sad eyes."

"I don't look like him!"

"I'm just sayin'- oof."

Jack rolls on top of him, dragging his body down so they're laying flat on the matress instead of leaning up against the headboard. He kisses Robby aggressively, both hands in his worn shirt, one dipping below the neckline. Robby doesn't realize what he's doing until Jack pulls away, dangling his Magen David and wedding ring between them.

“And if it gets dark, you call me.”

“You gotta find somebody to help you dance through the darkness.”