You just shrug and rest your head against robby’s shoulder, your fingers dancing between playing with his necklace n trailing through the the curls on his chest. robby holds out his hand.

“Gimme that.”

Frank steps closer to deposit the damp cloth in Robby’s hand. Robby cleans you up with quick, gentle precision, murmuring a low “Easy” when you jolt at the brief contact to your swollen clit. He looks at Frank with a raised brow.

“You make her cum?”

“Of course.” Frank scoffs, a bit offended. Robby squints at him. Frank’s expression sobers. “I did. Eventually.” He reaches out to pet your hair. “Rubbed your clit just the way you like, right princess?”

You smile and hum. Robby scoffs.

“I don’t want you to do this again.”

Frank blinks at him. “What, make her cum?”

“No, this. Fuck her ass by yourself on a random Tuesday.”

Frank’s lips part slightly as his jaw slackens. He’s quietly shocked for a moment before he speaks. “A random Tues— so what, anal’s a weekend thing now? Some kind of special occasion?”

“I’m saying you have to ask me.” Robby clarifies. He shoots Frank a look from behind his glasses, almost daring him to argue. Frank doesn’t— he just stares back at him— but Robby can tell he wants to, and that’s enough for the older man to keep talking. “Look at her. If you can’t handle how she gets afterwards—“

“I can handle her—“

Robby puts up his hand and Frank stops talking, even though that clearly struck a nerve.

“It has nothing to do with your competence.” Robby says evenly. Almost reassuringly. Frank’s shoulder’s relax again. “If you can’t handle how she gets afterwards because she ends up wanting me, then I need to give the go ahead. I don’t always wanna deal with a crybaby and cold cum on my boxers on my night off just so you can take her up the ass.”

Frank’s jaw twinges slightly.

“Frank. Are we clear?”

“No, no, not for me, my patient,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Please, I wish it was for me.”

“Why do you need a condom for a patient?” you asked, amused almost. “Is he hot?”

“What? No? My patient, he's HIV but apparently very, very active and he doesn't have condoms. He says he-he prefers it without and I've explained everything to him but there's no condoms in the draw where we keep them!” explained Samira.

“We have a condom draw?” asked Trinity, taking only that as the necessary information from Mohan's ramble.

You handed her the chart. “You sleep with women.”

“What? So I'm not allowed in the condom draw?”

“It's for sex ed teachings, people who are young and having sex,” you shrugged. “Stuff like that. Come on, I can help you out.”

The nurses desk was practically vacant. Around you everyone busied themselves with greeting the nigh shift and getting them out, taking away patients like the changing of the guard. It was almost too early to be dealing with tough patients who wouldn't protect themselves.

You led the way around the counter, Mohan and Santos (who took an invitation for herself) followed you over to the desk as you reached down for Robby's bag, propping it up.

It was no surprise to them that you were reaching for his bag, reaching for his stuff like it was yours. What was Robby's was yours. The real surprise had been when Mel found the two of you eight months ago making out in the storage room, shrieking and dropping a bag of blood that then splashed all over you.

And obviously at the scream everyone ran over and found the two of you rather compromised and covered in blood. You still weren't really done living that down.

You fished around in Robby's bag, the owner somewhere not there to see as you brought out an opened box of condoms. “Here,” you said handing her a thick strip as Santos laughed.

Samira took them wearily, a small dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Won't you... miss these?”

“No,” you said, rocking on your heels, suddenly feeling the familiar creeping heat of embarrassment. “We have... more.”

Santos smirked. “Keeping Robby in shape, huh?”

Samira shuddered. “I really don't want to think about my boss like that, but thank you!” you said, waving the strip like it was a flag and rushing off before her patient could walk off. She was a good doctor, dedicated you knew and you were just happy to help her reach her potential.

Distracted by watching her leave you failed to notice Trinity sneak over to Robby's bag, peeking inside like a nosy cat.

“Hey!” you lectured, pulling the zipper shut on her hand.

“What? Just wanted to know what else you got in there? Does he keep a pair of panties? Vibrator if it gets quiet,” she teased.

You blushed, shaking your head and looking down to the bag. “You have no shame, that's your boss you're talking about.”

She made a pfft noise. “You're the one screwing him.”

Yes, you were. Proudly and happily.

Javadi slid up next to you, practically shoving you a tablet and asking for your advice. You were somewhere deep in your residency, one of the first they were introduced to on their hell of a first day. Not as scary as Robby, easier to talk to than Langdon. It was typical for the Pittlings and Mohan to come to you when they needed advice. You liked it really, as much as Santos teased you and as much as Mohan and Javadi doubted themselves.

“Hey Crash,” said Trinity, all but giddy with the new knowledge she had about Doctor Robby's contents in his bag. “You wanna know what's in this bag of secrets.”

“No,” you chastised.

Javadi's eyes lightened up. “Is that Doctor Robby's bag?”

“It doesn't matter,” you said, pushing it back down to your feet.

“Hey,” Samira joined the group of you again, handing you back the strip of condoms. “He said he can't take these.” The rest of the doctors and nurses hustled around the Pitt, un-knowing of the personal dilemmas being aired out.

You lifted your shoulders. “You needed condoms, those are condoms.”

“Yes but they're not the right size,” said Mohan. “He says they wouldn't fit, they're too big.”

Oh.

Perhaps at some point you'd been shocked at the size of Robby. Before you'd only had your imagination and hints of him beneath his scrubs. The times when he'd brush past you in the teasing beginning of your relationship and you'd feel something prod at you. The first time he'd dragged you to his bedroom, lips seething in heat and teeth nipping in want to only lay you out on his bed and drag his pants and underwear down to show all of him- then you'd been shocked. Mouth watering so.

Over the months the shock transformed to desire, reaching hands and an eager mouth that you stopped thinking about the size.

You didn't think anything of it when you handed Mohan a strip of five extra-large condoms.

Standing at the nurses station it may as well have been a deserted island and you stared down at the condoms like it was your first offering of food.

“Uh-”

Javadi snatched the condoms from Samira first, staring down at them with mouth agape. “Oh my god.”

“Javadi-”

“Holy shit!”

You looked back and Santos had pulled out Robby's bag again, pulling out the box and staring at the size stamped on the front. “Santos!”

“No wonder you walk in limping.”

“I do not- I do not walk in limping!”

“Well, there was that one time-” said Mohan.

“No, there wasn't!” you argued. “I'd bruised my ankle.”

Mohan chuckled to herself. “Sure.”

Trinity smirked. “Bruised something.”

Javadi was still staring at the strip of condoms in wonder. “How do they even get this big?”

You snatched them away from her the way you might have if a child found them. Quickly you stuffed them in the box, threw them back in Robby's bag and kept it behind your back.

“Wait, why do you have a box of condoms for work?” asked Javadi.

“Oh please,” said Santos with a groan. “They're always at it in work. Better safe than sorry.”

“We are not always at it at work,” you defended.

“The storage closet?” asked Mohan, apparently abandoning the venture of finding fitting condoms for her patient.

You held up a finger. “That was one time.”

“The toilets,” added Santos, sadly remembering the time you and Robby had hid yourselves in the bathroom for a break. A break that was only supposed to be comforting touched turned hot and reaching quickly.

“That one time in the exam room where we thought we were examining a broken hip for a Mrs Driscoll-” began Javadi.

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” you interrupted.

“I think it's nice,” Trinity quipped her lip, arms crossing over her chest. “Get some dick when you can right.” She patted your shoulder like a proud sister as she left the group of you, laughing quietly to herself.

Victoria and Samira followed suit, leaving you with the ramifications of your own embarrassment. So what your boyfriend was largely endowed, wasn't it a compliment? Weren't you the luckiest girl in the world to have Robby with soft and tender touches turned to almost hateful thrusts with how hard he loved you.

You made sure Robby's bag was tightly closed before sliding it back under the desk.

The day brought the same usual storm the ED always brought. Enough to distract you from the mornings events and the package sitting inside of Robby's bag. You were left with only a creeping heat crawling up your neck, the last dregs of your doctors eyes on you and their giddy smiles.

You'd only managed to make it to the staff lounge for a coffee by mid day, taking the mug that was yours, marked with an inside joke and given one secret Santa round.

“Hey.” Robby slipped into the room, leaning his back against the sink and standing next to you.

“Hey yourself.”

For a moment there was a silence where you poured coffee for the both of you, handing him his mug.

Robby's fingers grazed yours, the simplest touch sending shivers through your skin. “Can I ask you something?”

You hummed, head tucked away. He wouldn't have heard about the mornings teasing's, would he?

“Santos has been... off today,” he said.

He would.

You gulped, a feign of concern falling to you. “She has?”

“Keeps looking at me and smirking. She's doing this thing with her hands where she-” he demonstrated, spreading his hands to different distances, some small, some bigger. His hands wavered around the imaginary object between his hands.

You were left groaning.

Robby's head tilted toward you. “Do you know anything?”

In attempts of hiding away the story your head ducked and shook side to side.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” you said.

Robby's fingers were slightly calloused but no less humble as he pinched your chin, realigning his gaze with yours. His brows rose, gaze pouring into yours. He didn't even have to ask you again.

You sighed. “This morning Mohan had a patient with HIV and she wanted to give him condoms but there was none where they usually are so I gave her some of ours. But they weren't exactly... the right size.”

There was a small furrow of confusion in his face as he waited for you to elaborate.

You turned your body into his, lowering your voice. “Not everybody can fit into an extra large, Robby.”

The furrow gave and a small grin split his cheeks as he glanced down to your shoes, a pink blooming under his beard and to his cheeks. It was different from your own embarrassment. He was more pleased with himself.

Robby straightened, hands wavering. “So how does... this connect to-”

“Santos was there this morning when Samira asked.”

He chuckled, tongue poking out into his cheek as he shook his head in amusement.

“It's not funny,” you said, nudging him.

He rocked on his feet. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Your coffee was turning lukewarm in hand, the bitter taste suddenly too sweet as you made to walk away from him and stew in your own humiliation.

Robby's fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged, using you to pull himself in closer. “Oh, I'm sorry,” he teased, voice dropping into the low drag in his condescending way. The sort of voice he used to coax you down into bed with his darkening eyes and lustful approach. “Is my dick too big? Do I fuck you too good?” His hands grabbed at your hips, bringing you into him, tongue darting out to your neck.

Your body wriggled in his hold, trying to escape as his arms grew strong around you. “Stop!” You laughed.

“Make me.” He nipped at your neck, licking over the sting he caused.

The door was pushed open and Langdon stumbled in the doorway, catching sight of the two of you tangled in arms and laughter.

“Are you two doing it in the lounge now?” he asked.

You guessed you just should've been thankful Langdon wasn't there that morning, otherwise there would have been competitions between him and Santos on who could make the best jokes out of your misery.

Slowly, Robby moved away from you, pulling himself up straight and pulling at his hoodie before leading the way out the room.

McKay was wheeling a patient away to x-ray, Samira was giving aftercare instructions to an elderly couple and Mel was somewhere lurking in a corner talking to Dana.

Santos, however, was still being the most productive, sitting across from Javadi and still trying to make sense of some invisible size between her hands.

You watched, un-able to stop as Robby walked behind Santos and spread her hands apart just a little, enough to leave more than enough inches between her hands.

Robby walked away, satisfied.

You do your best, but every lungful drags you further down his length, your body desperate for the heavy fill it’s already trembling to accommodate. A needy whimper slips out, fists knotting the sheets, and he soothes you with a gentle kiss against your smile line. 

“That’s it,” he praises, hips rocking in a rich, molasses-slow circle that lets you savor every thick inch. “Such a good girl, taking it all — see how beautifully you fit me?”

Tiny wildfires flower through you everywhere at once, heating your cheeks, spilling down your throat, settling low in your belly where desire winds itself tight and shining.

Embarrassment flickers its wings right alongside it, because he’s cooing at you the same way he coaxes patients through vaccinations: gentle, forbearing, inexorable.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says, like there exists a universe where you would ask him to stop.

His hand glides the length of your back, fingers pausing in the dip where your spine meets sacrum. 

Too much is exactly how you’d describe the feeling of his cock dragging across that spot that makes your vision strobe starbusting colors, but the tenderness in his voice knots something unsteady in your body. 

You manage a breathy, “please, don’t stop.” 

A contented rumble answers you, and he plants a feather-light kiss on your forehead, right where he’d lay cool fingers to check your temperature.

He resumes that same rhythm. Slow drive in, lingering grind, languid pull out that leaves you aching for the return. The headboard knocks a soft counterpoint, each tap punctuated by his gentle commentary.

“Doing so well,” he croons when your elbows buckle, gathering you up with one flush tug to his chest. “Hold on to me, there you go, honey.”

Jack angles your leg higher, opening you wider for him, and the change steals air from your lungs in one shattered sound. 

“Shh,” he hushes, half-smile curving, proud and adoring all at once. “I know. Feels big, doesn’t it? Let me make it better.”

His fingers dip to your clit, and your gasp dissolves into his name. “Jack — s’good.”

The room narrows to the glide of his thumb and the steady ballast of his body. 

He kisses the salt at your hairline, murmuring, “Same here, baby. My perfect girl. Let me handle the rest, yeah?”

MARIA NOTE if being babied this hard during sex is wrong, i refuse to be right <3