GremlinKat

Jack’s like instantly hard and has to go and run to the bathroom to fix the issue.

He sends Robby a picture of his hard on and blames him for his new problem.

The residents and interns turn to each other he never they do smth questionable, “which could mean nothing.”

Jack asks, “What could mean nothing?”

For one, horrific fact: There was no saving Pranita, and any attempts to do so could have resulted in a lot more arrests, or worse, them calling more agents in to handle the unrest. Unfortunately Robby telling McKay to treat her and let her go was the absolute safest thing they could have done for Pranita and themselves.

They call a lawyer for her and it works? Okay, well, let's walk into the waiting room and see who else we can grab instead. Let's grab a patient leaving. They call her family somehow and her family comes? Now her family is under arrest too. They fake a illness/injury that could get her admitted? Well, they know where she is/who her doctors were and can come back, and while they wait, they can grab a few patients to take then come back for her.

This is how ICE works and thinks. Honestly, given what they've said and had to cut, they were likely more realistic (aka violent) in their arrest of Jesse.

Another horrific fact: there is a non-zero chance they were going to leave with just Pranita. 100% they would have found someone else to take while waiting for her or leaving with her, and it's simply by there only being two of them and Jesse stepping in that it was Jesse.

Was Robby's speech reckless? Yes! Was it the reason everything after happened? No. They were probably going to drag Pranita out anyways if it took any longer or if someone else pissed them off. Again, if they let her finish getting treated, Jesse not stepping in, they would have found someone else.

This is how ICE works. This is the reality.

There is no "Jack would step in": he couldn't even stop police from trying to arrest McKay. He's a SWAT medic. That's it. ICE doesn't even listen to city officers or state troopers. They don't listen to the laws. There is no super special lawyer to send ICE away or gets them arrested. There is no connections someone has somewhere that sends them out empty-handed.

and the fact that Buck just wanted to be back on the job that he loves WHEN COMPLETELY HEALTHY AND BACKED UP BY THE DOCTORS and the entire 118 made him a villian for it with Eddie in particular is just fucked

Eddie blew up in Bobby's face about his dead family when Bobby rightfully denied Eddie coming back to the 118 but OH when Buck is ready to go back to work suddenly it's a huge problem

genuinely one of the most fucked storylines. Buck should've been meaner honestly. He shouldn't have apologized or even react to their childish behavior. and when Eddie started giving him cold shoulder? wild that in the end narratively he is the victim.

the summer of 1933 is impossibly hot and dry and the entire nation is suffering. jack abbot thinks he's doing pretty good for himself, all things considered, but pretty good this year would be suffering any other year. he's got a little farm outside of pittsburgh that had once belonged to him and his wife, and his crops are doing okay. his chickens are all right, too, but he's being careful with what he's got, and whenever he goes into the city and sees the people crowded into the hooverville up past the train station it twists him up inside something fierce.

the train goes by his farm on its way up towards to erie and sometimes he gets the men who are riding the rails. he knows they've got a code they scratch into gates or write down with chalk, and they must have marked his place as safe because he gets them pretty often. he doesn't mind, really. he gets them to chop some wood and he'll roast a chicken for them or, if it's winter and he's got some beef in the cold cellar, he'll do up a nice roast. he always sends them on their way with a couple sandwiches and a few dollars, if he can spare it, and he knows that it'll pay off over time.

july of 1933 is hellishly hot, and when the man appears it's in the middle of one of those afternoon thunderstorms that sneaks right up on the farm. jack only knew it was coming because of a twinge in his stump where it meets the fake leg the army gave him, and he's out in the yard putting his late wife's nice sheets out over his tomato plants in case some hail decides to deprive him of most of his harvest when the fat rain drops start to pelt the farm. jack groans and keeps working as fast as he can (which admittedly isn't very fast these days) and is startled when another pair of hands grab the other end of the sheet and drag it over the plot.

he finds himself looking at a rail-rider, taller than he is and clearly down on his luck. his clothes are dusty and worn but his beard is as taken care of as it can be under the circumstances, and underneath a wide-brimmed straw hat gleam sharp, intelligent eyes. jack doesn't introduce himself right away -- there's work to do -- but two pairs of hands make the job go quickly and before the worst of the storm hits they are inside and jack is laughing, unbuttoning his linen shirt to get out of his wet clothes. "jack," he says, and the man smiles back at him; he's got a silver tooth and jack wonders what he did before the economy collapsed.

"michael," the man says in return, and he begins to undo his suspenders. "do you mind if i hang my clothes by the fire?"

"i can do you one better than that, michael," jack says, nodding down the hallway. he knows by now that some of these men are desperate enough to turn to robbery, that they will take what they can find, but he's only had something stolen twice in the last few years so he can take the risk. "there's a room at the end of the hall where you can find some spare clothes. can't guarantee they'll fit you too good, but they're dry and you can give me what you've got on to wash once this storm has passed."

michael looks at him like he has never known kindness but he nods nonetheless and heads down the hall. when he emerges, it's in an old pair of jack's trousers and a cotton shirt that strains against the broadness of his shoulders, and jack has made them both sandwiches from some cold chicken he cooked up the night before. they sit on the porch and watch the storm, eat their sandwiches and work their way through some drink jack made out of sumac and sugar, and jack doesn't press michael to talk any. they finish their lunch as the storm begins to subside, and jack gets to his feet, gathering up the weather-worn clothes michael has shed and heading down into the yard.

"i can wash them if you show me where," michael says, and he doesn't say warsh like most of the uneducated types that jack is used to. jack thinks he might have had a nice job before all this mess. "doesn't seem fair to have you do it."

"let me wash them," jack says. "you can take the sheets off the plants, but be gentle. any green tomatoes knocked off, gather them up and we'll fry them for dinner."

"dinner?"

"i'm not sending you off without a couple proper meals and a good night's sleep," jack says, dragging his washbasin from where it sat beneath the rain gutter. it's filled with cool water from the storm and jack drops michael's clothes in before heading inside to get the soap block to do the washing.

when he comes back outside, michael is diligently pulling the sheets back off the vegetables. they settle into their own chores and jack watches the newcomer closely, notices his long, delicate fingers and his dark eyes, the sun-worn colour of his neck. "musician," he says finally, and michael, who has knelt to gather some of the weaker tomatoes from where they've fallen to the ground, looks at him.

"sorry, sir?"

"no need for sir," jack said, working michael's shirt over the washboard, the water good and soapy. "you're a musician by trade."

"i played piano in new york," michael says, getting back to his feet with his arms full of tomatoes. "seems men aren't interested in tipping the piano man when they can't hardly pay their own bills."

"where are you headed?"

"i thought i might get steelwork here," michael said. "but it's all dried up. off to chicago next, i suppose, although the sound of it is dire."

jack watches him, thinking, and turns back to his chores. "you can take those tomatoes inside, if you'd like."

michael does as he's told, and when he comes back out he brings jack another glass of the sumac drink and crouches down beside the basin. jack gives the clothes a good wash and rinses them with a few cupfuls from the rain barrel, and he wrings them out plenty before taking them inside and hanging them near the stove.

michael stays for dinner and he's a polite, interesting guest. he tells jack about new york, where jack only passed through on his way to the war, and he asks jack about his wife after seeing her picture on the mantle. he's quiet and he feeds the chickens without being asked, and when he starts to fall asleep after dinner jack makes up the spare room that used to be his wife's seamstress business and michael sleeps there without fuss.

when he wakes up the next morning, jack makes them a couple eggs for breakfast along with some bread he's cooked up, and michael says he should get on his way. jack asks if he doesn't mind staying, though, since he's got some work he needs done around the place and he doesn't trust this old leg of his on a ladder. might be a couple weeks, if he's being honest, and of course he'll pay michael, feed him, too.

and jack may or may not be pissed that the three legged cat has taken a liking to robby more then him.

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

“That cat is evil,” Jack argues as he watches the cat crawl away from him and right into Robby’s lap, purring and rubbing his head against Robby’s hand through it all. “I’ve decided.”

Two months after the two of them moved in together, Robby was on the way home from work and spotted a cat meowing loudly and clawing at the walls of the alley it was in. Naturally, Robby slowly walked up the cat, and immediately the cat melted up against Robby. The next thing Jack was aware of was Robby coming into their house with a cat tucked into his jacket.

Jack quickly lost the argument on whether or not to keep the cat due to Robby pulling out his puppy eyes as he held a sweet looking orange tabby cat in his arms.

Robby’s eyes were always his weakness, and he told him so, shaming him for using a move so low to win. Yet, two days later, they were taking their new roommate to the local vet.

Obviously, the most prominent thing brought up during the visit was the fact that Toby, the name Robby said he felt “drawn to,” was missing a leg. Luckily, the vet didn’t find any signs of an infection or any reason to be worried about the amputation. Jack also thanked a god he doesn’t fully believe in when Toby miraculously didn’t have any fleas or alarming diseases.

So, they took him home. Well, Robby took him home. The cat hadn’t exactly warmed up to Jack yet. At first, he was letting Toby come to him. Toby never came. He always climbed right over Jack, almost as if he is taunting him, and settles right up against Robby. All nice and cozy.

“You’re just mad he likes me more,” Robby replies with a snort, turning his head to look at a pouty Jack. “You just can’t rush it, you know?”

“It’s been four months, Mikey, I haven’t been rushing it,” Jack replies in an unamused voice.

“In the first month you literally took off your prosthetic and tried to force him to watch you,” Robby says back, trying to hid a giggle at the memory. “What was the goal? Tell him you are one of the same?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

With that, Robby barks out a laugh, and Toby doesn’t even startle on Robby’s chest. God, Jack thinks. What a manipulator. Won’t even acknowledge me.

“Well, you gotta bond somehow,” Robby says after his laughter has quieted down. “I’m going to that conference for a couple days tomorrow, and you’ll be all along with Toby, forced to bond with him.”

“Can’t you just bring him with you?” Jack asks with an overemphasized groan. All Robby does in response is a roll of his eyes.

***

Robby has been gone for two days, but the cat hadn’t been spotted since besides for breakfast and dinner. Jack truly doesn’t know what he did wrong. Toby adores Robby. Jack adores Robby. This is common ground, so what’s the deal?

He doesn’t tend to wait around and find out and opts for letting the cat wander around the house.

Robby is coming home tonight anyway. Maybe Jack can lie and say Toby and him bonded the entire time Robby was away.

He won’t fall for that, Jack thinks. And if he does, then he’s going to ask for photos…

He puts dinner out for the cat and hopes for the best. In reality, though, he’s preparing for the worst where Toby won’t even look his way.

He hears the familiar jingling sound of Toby’s bell as he walks across the kitchen to his food bowl. He hears faint eating sounds from the cat as he is sprawled out onto the couch.

He’s absentmindedly scrolling on the TV, looking for anything to keep him entertained for the next couple hours as he waits for Robby to get home. Currently, Jack is wearing one of Robby’s favorite hoodies that he didn’t pack. He missed him okay? The smell has always helped with brining Jack comfort, and the fact that the shoulders are a bit broader and the end of it hangs a bit lower on his waist is always a plus.

Eventually, Jack hears the small licks stop as paws make their way over to the family room. Toby finds his way over and sits right in Jacks eye-line as he is stretched out on the couch. Toby remains perched on the coffee table.

“Robby wanted us to bond,” Jack says, no matter how much Robby makes fun of him for talking to Toby in a straight voice. “And look at us. Not bonding.”

Obviously, the cat doesn’t reply. Yet, Jack doesn’t feel silly for it and instead continues to stare at the cat as it moves towards the couch.

The couch is low enough for Toby to jump on even with the missing leg, but most of the time Robby is here to pick him up. Jack is terrified to pick him up, scared that that will be the last starve and will break and truce the two of them have going on right now.

Toby makes it up, scrambling his way up against the back cushions. However, the cat quickly turns his head and starts stalking towards Jack.

Oh my god, is all that comes to Jacks mind.

Slowly but surely, Toby finds his way up Jacks shoulder, his head never straying far from its bowed position right above Jacks chest. Then, as if it was a miracle, Toby lays right on top of Jacks chest, a pressure Jack realizes quickly why Robby enjoy it’s so much.

Oh my god, it’s actually happening.

As Toby rubs his head against the hoodie and starts to knead his one front paw into Jacks chest, he realizes with a certain clarity that Toby isn’t doing this because he enjoys Jacks attention, but because the hoodie smells like Robby, a smell the cat is well accustomed to.

Hey, Jack thinks as his eyes start to droop close with the steady weight of the cat above him. I’ll take it.

***

Two hours later, Robby walks in with his suit aye in tow, ready to see Jack and Toby again.

Instead, the image that he first sees is his boyfriend in his hoodie. That sap, he thinks. And, against all odds, his cat laying perfectly on Jacks chest, periodically brushing Jack with his fur.

Four years ago, Jack didn’t have any children. Now, he has three and another two on the way. Robby had been less than impressed with him when they learned that.

“I told you this was my last pregnancy,” he’d said. “And you snuck a fifth one in anyway.”

So they use Jack's handicapped placard and find the closest spot to get in and out as quickly as possible.

Robby steps out first, then, like the gentleman Jack married, he opens Jack's door for him.

Jack, of course, was driving so he hands Robby the keys, grabs the door and Robby's hand and hops out.

"Those are handicap parking only!" A shrill tone rings from a few spots away.

They both ignore it.

Robby closes the door. They both head toward the store.

"Excuse me."

Robby sighs.

Jack cloaes his eyes and prays for strength.

"Sirs!" The shrill voice gets closer.

As a unit, they both turn to find a red-faced woman wearing a bright floral patterned shirt with white capris pants, and her bag hoisted so high on her arm that it might as well be around her neck.

"What?" Robby says, an edge of annoyance in his tone.

She sniffs, looks them both over then tips her head back. Even though she's shorter than both of them it looks like she's looking down her nose.

Whatever she's looking for, she finds lacking.

"Did you notice the handicap sign in the spot you're using."

Jack bristles, but Robby's hand comes up to touch the small of his back. He bites his tongue and keeps his arms limp at his sides.

The womans shrewd gaze tracks the movement, which makes her bag go even higher, and her voice shriller

"Those spaces are reserved to those who are handicapped and are in need of assistance." She purses her mouth until her caked lipstick cracks.

"Right." Robby agrees.

She wiggles her nose in indignation. "You're parked illegally. If you don't move your car for those who are handicapped to park there, I'll have to inform the store. They'll most likely have your vehicle towed."

Robby looks at Jack, then the truck, then the squeaking woman.

"He is handicapped. Thats why we parked there. We have a placard and registered plates as well as vetern tags. Thank you for your due diligence but you can fuck off now."

She gasps, literally clutching her pearls as Robby turns them both around.

"Stop." She grabs Jack's arm, yanking him back hard enough he stumbles.

It's nothing. He's used to being on his feet, has been yanked and pulled enough working in the ED that really he didn't even lose his footing.

Except this woman is a bitch and needs to mind her own business. Jack purposely loses his balance. Lets his body drop so that he falls into her and topples her over.

To add icing to his petty cake he makes sure to bend his right knee which rocks the prosthetic out of place.

It doesn't come off, but it certainly distrupts the careful way his pants are tucked around it and slips his show half off.

Robby dropped to his knees the moment Jack landed already trying to sit him up.

"Jack, are you okay? Whats hurt?"

Jack holds up a hand, "I'm okay. My leg snagged when she yanked me."

"I didn't yank you!" The lady hisses pulling herself to her knees, "I touched your arm and you reacted violently. I should call the police! Assault and fraud for parking in a-" her eyes fall to his leg.

Robby slipped the shoe off so he can resituate it. Fixing the laces, his smirk tucked into his beard.

Jack rolls his eyes, "Whatever you say, lady. You're the one assaulting a disabled veteran."

Robby snorts.

The lady's eyes are so wide he'd be concerned if it wasn’t hilarious.

"I- I'm- I'm so — you look so normal. I didn't —"

"Come on, sweetheart." Robby tucks his pant leg around his prothesis then helps Jack up.

Summary: After your revelations about the study, Robby turns to the one person he trusts to help him figure out what you need.

Jack hadn't bitten anyone since he was two, so his actions were confusing to everyone, but to no one moreso than Jack. He didn't know why he had bitten him, all he knew was that he had taken one look at Robby and bit.

Later, Jack would learn the phrase "cuteness aggression" and things would make a little more sense. After all, Robby was probably the cutest kid to ever exist.

Later than that, Parker would drop a meme into the night shift group chat which read: "when I was 7 i had a crush on a girl in my class & didnt know how to deal with it so I wrote her a letter that just said “get out of my school." And Jack would think oh. Oh no.

In spite of a beginning of tooth-based violence, or perhaps because of it, Jack and Robby became inseparable. They were close to a point that they had been viewed as a unit for practically their whole life- a single being: JackandRobby. They did the same after-school activities, joined the same clubs. Robby didn’t want to play football so Jack didn't join the team. He had no interest in doing anything if it wasn't going to be the two of them. They went to the same middle and high school, the same college, the same med school, and ended up working at the same hospital.

Robby was there for all of Jack's favorite memories, but really, he was there for all of Jack's memories, period. The time before Robby seemed as ephemeral as a dream: he understood it happened, but it lacked weight; it was opaque and almost impossible to remember. As far as Jack was concerned, his world started and ended with Robby. The longest they had ever been separated was when Jack had been deployed, a separation that felt agonizing. An essential, elemental part had been taken from their very being, like they were forced to walk around without their lungs.

Taking all of that into consideration, one might have expected Jack to realize at some point that he was absolutely, completely, irrevocably in love with his best friend. He did not. In his defense, he never claimed to be a smart man.

Jack might have realized it in college, where one night he and Robby had given each other drunken blowjobs. Robby's cock had been heaven in his mouth, the noises Jack had pulled from him were the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He had swallowed and licked up every drop, desperate for more of him.

When Robby returned the favor, Jack came almost immediately. Robby had taken him down to the root and popped off to lick a broad stripe on the underside of his cock and Jack just. Couldn't help himself. He came all over Robby's face: his come caught in Robby's eyelashes- so long and soft-, dripping down his nose, even caught in his pretty hair. He looked so beautiful that Jack couldn't breathe. He wanted to lick him. Not just lick the come off- though he wanted to do that too- but just lick him, period.

Then they had both started laughing and the moment was carefully placed in a box in his head, never to be thought about again.

He might have realized it when Sharon kept calling Robby Jack’s boyfriend. She even put a line in her wedding vows that she was marrying Jack and Robby because Robby was Jack's first love: that wherever one went, the other followed. It got big laughs in the crowd at the time because everyone knew it was true. It was an immutable state of the universe: Jack belonged to Robby and Robby belonged to Jack and now that Jack also belonged to Sharon, Robby belonged to her as well. To love Jack meant to love Robby. It was just a fact.

Jack just hadn't realized that when she made the joke, she meant that Jack loved Robby romantically. Again, he never claimed to be a smart man.

He might have realized when Robby came back from his sabbatical and Jack was so relieved that he wanted to fall to his knees, press his face into Robby's thigh and ask him to never leave him alone again, please. He didn't do that, because that would have been weird. Instead he hugged him tight and gently, gently bit Robby's shoulder. Robby didn’t even acknowledge it, it was kind of Jack's way of saying something when words seemed too much. A call back to their first meeting, a reminder of where they started.

No, Jack only realized when Parker sent that fucking meme.

Robby had come over to finish their argument, just as he had promised and arguing turned into them kicking each other, which turned into a friendly brawl. This was common for them. They had even broken Bubbe's favorite lamp once, rolling around on the floor, trying to smack the other- something Robby paid dearly for: three whole weeks with no Jack.

They were really too old for it, but it was a core tenet of their relationship. They would probably both break their hips at 78 years old, trying to lovingly kick the other's ass. There was just something about being kids together that made them perpetually feral.

Jack looked down from where he was perched on top of Robby, trying to snatch at his hands and said: "I think I'm in love with you."

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," Robby groaned, trying to kick him.

So Jack did the only thing he could think of. He bit him- not hard, but he didn't let go. And then, he carefully licked the skin between his teeth.

Robby immediately began trying to shake him off, all to no avail. Jack wasn't letting him go that easy. "That is disgusting, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Jack released him. "You told me to shut up, so I was speaking a language you understand."

"I understand that you're a freak."

"I'm serious!"

"Seriously disturbed." Robby glared at him. "I think I would know if you were in love with me; you would have started acting different. You've been the same asshole you've been since the day we met."

Jack nodded once, with great solemnity.

Robby's eyes practically bugged out of his head. "Let me get this straight. You've been in love with me for 46 years and just realized now?"

"Well, Parker sent this meme-" Jack tried to explain, only to get cut off.

"You are not about to tell me that you realized you loved me for 46 years because Parker Ellis sent a meme."

"Okay, I won't tell you." Jack said with a shrug.

That got them tussling again and somehow that led to them making out. Robby used Jack's distraction- because kissing Robby was very distracting, actually- to flip them. He put both hands in Jack's hair and gripped his curls tight, causing Jack to whine and buck his hips up into him. They both moaned at the friction; at some point they had gotten hard, though neither was quite sure when.

Jack used the moment to roll them until he was on top again. They spent a few messy moments making out, grinding against each other, Robby letting out those small moans he had given to Jack only once before.

Eventually, they paused to breathe and Robby looked up at him through his eyelashes- still so long and soft- and asked: "Do you want to play college?"

"Fuck yeah, I do." Jack agreed immediately, almost dizzy with arousal. "There will be a different ending this time, though."

"You mean you’re not planning on coming in two seconds?" Robby teased, grinning at him.

"Oh, I probably will, you've kept me waiting so long. But no, this isn't going to be a one time deal. It's gonna be forever, baby." There wasn't a doubt in his mind. They've always been one creature, JackandRobby. There’s no changing that.

When they were home alone they preferred to sit in bed, abbot wearing nothing, Robby in pajamas with only his toes and hands out. Two sides of the same coin.

Abbot who wriggles to pull Robby close, Robby who grumbles and says something about how he was reading an article and he broke his concentration, but he leans against abbots chest anyways and goes back to his tablet, shifting his glasses so it’s not as uncomfortable.

Or abbot who gets around just fine without his prosthetic leg, but likes when Robby helps him from the couch to bed when he’s not wearing it at home. They both like being cared for by each other.

At work during shift rotations they find time to be alone to trade kisses and stories of their days before the other one leave to go home.

The first time Robby ever laid eyes on the most beautiful omega he’d ever seen was in 1997 when he was 26 years old.

He doesn’t remember the exact day or time, but he knows it was in the middle of August. Robby was sitting in lecture a few rows behind him, and only got the side of his face but God; Robby was awestruck.

He was just… perfect. Beautiful sloped nose and freckles across his face, hair that curled perfectly and had this gorgeous reddish-brown hue. Just a little glance of these features and Robby knew he’d never encounter another beauty like that.

It took Robby three weeks to work the nerve up to ask the omega his name, and even then Robby stuttered and blushed the whole way through.

Jack Abbot. Prettiest and smartest omega around.

“So, have you ever been on a date with a guy before?” Jack asks. He’s tucked awkwardly into one corner of Robby’s couch, eating the Chinese takeout he picked up on the way here.

Robby swallows a mouthful of noodles. “Date? No. This would be the first.”

“Oh?” Jack smirks. “First date.”

“I just meant—“

“I’m teasing. I know where we met.”

Robby scoffs, but it’s undercut by the heat rising in his cheeks. “What about you?”

Jack’s face flushes worse than Robby’s. “Oh, uh, yeah. I, well, I haven’t done… anything. With a guy. I’m not— not a total virgin.”

The edge of Robby’s mouth stretches into a troubling grin. “Figured. You seemed a little out of your element at the bar.”

“No way, I was pulling out my best moves.”

Robby laughs around a mouthful of food. He shakes his head and swallows. “Offering to buy me a drink, typical start to a conversation. Asking me to dinner? Not how I thought the night would end.”

“How did you think the night would end?”

Robby shrugs. “Sucking your dick in the bathroom?”

Jack’s face practically glows. It’s cute. Usually, Robby is the one blushing from ear to ear. Jack clears his throat. “I’m sure you’ve got a bathroom in here.”

An unexpected laugh blurts out of Robby. “I do, in fact. Attached to the bedroom.”

Jack nudges him with his socked foot. “Either of those’ll do. Probably best to let your dinner digest first.”

Robby hums, and places his empty box on the coffee table. “Episode of Seinfeld?”

“Never seen it.” Jack disregards his own box and stretches his arm over the back of the couch in invitation, which Robby happily accepts. He settles at Jack’s side and looks up, batting his eyelashes the way he knows guys like. Jack’s pretty freckled face gets even pinker.

“It’s pretty good,” Robby says. “But, to be honest, you’re probably still not going to see it.”

He tilts his head up and presses his lips to Jack, who kisses back unlike any man Robby has ever known. Unhurried and gentle, as if he’s learning everything there is to know about Robby through their touch. Robby searches for a flaw there too, but there’s nothing.

He pulls away and studies Jack’s blissful expression. A lot of guys have used Robby to figure themselves out, none of them have done it on a date, or looked half as enamored as Jack does after one little peck.