Because i also just had to do my yearly training - "Well Ive finished the required modules. I can properly sexually harass you."
"I didn't think you were serious." Jack grumbles, twisting in the spinny chair.
Robby sits at a desk in front of him, glasses shoved up into his hair, "I'm not happy about this either, you know?"
Jack snorts, "Could have fooled me. Tell me, what exactly did Gloria say to you to get both of us stuck in here."
Robby gives him a deep, heavy, from the bottom of his gut, sigh, "Jack just do the damn power points, take the quizzes then we can both go home."
He scoffs, twisting back to look at the laptop laid out in front of him. It's nicer than the last time he was in here looking at training modules. Which he never expected to be a thing he had to do again when he became senior attending, but they're all about updated tech and HIPAA regulation requirements.
The first slide is the introduction screen, a horrifying blue that's probably meant to be relaxing with bright gold letters announcing, "Work Place Comfort."
Two stock image pretty actors smile at him from the corner of the screen. The man looks like an IKEA furniture salesman and the woman reminds him of a date he went on after Lizzie died. Very prim, very proper, very much everything that Jack is not.
He looks up at Robby again. The man's head is ducked as he stares at his own computer, glasses still pushed up his forehead.
Jack knows he's not actually paying attention if he's not wearing them. Bastard can't see anything without them on. He's probably staring at the screen waiting until he thinks it's been enough time before he can click to the next screen.
He hits enter and the next slide pops up showing the sideways triangle play button over an image of the same two actors. The female is standing in front of a desk with the male leering behind her.
Jack already feels wigged out.
Sexual Harassment Classes, he mocks, twenty or so years of being in medicine and not once has he ever had anyone make a complaint about him. Jack has his flaws, okay. He's an insomniac, spends his free time getting shot at, smokes more weed than he probably should when he knows he doesn't have to work. But he's always worked his ass off to make people feel comfortable around him.
He was a bisexual man in the army — he knew what it felt like to be unsafe.
So of course, of-fucking-course he's sitting in a mandated work place safety "meeting" with his chief attending who is the damn reason he's in here in the first place.
After years of acting like they weren't in love with each other they finally took the leap and started dating. Jack asked first, obviously, because Mikey might be one hell of a doctor but he's an absolute dumbass when it comes to emotions.
And it's the second-best choice he's ever made. After only a few dates he got Robby into his bed and into his pants, rode that dick until the sun came up and back down again then promptly told him to move in with him. It took nothing for them to live together, nothing to share a bed, for Robby to change his address on his paperwork.
Now that he can have Robby in every way he's wanted since the day Robby shouted at him to hurry his ass up while riding the chest of a dying man on his first day at PTMC. Jack takes advantage.
Which, again, is why he's in this stupid fucking hell hole. Watching two actors who were not paid enough to be doing the job they did and pretending like he feels bad for feeling his partner up in the elevator.
How was he supposed to know a newbie nurse was standing behind them? Robby had stripped his scrub top off after getting soaked through from an unexpected rainstorm. His skin was gorgeous with dripping water falling down his neck, hair curled behind his ears, laughter curling his cheeks.
Jack couldn't be blamed for grabbing him by the waist, yanking him down until he could lick his way into his mouth. Sliding his hands through Robby's messy thinning hair and tasting the last cigarette he swore he didn't smoke anymore on his tongue.
Really, considering how hard it is to get any real alone time as two senior attendings on opposite shifts, the nurse should have been grateful all they did was make out a little.
(Okay, maybe he shoved Robby's hand down the back of his scrub pants and told him to remember this when he's home alone in their bed. Again, he didn't know she was there!)
The modules are boring as hell and make him feel way more uncomfortable than if someone would have grabbed his dick and asked what time he's off. The actors were really unenthusiastic with fake wide smiles and chipper scripted cat calls. In between each module there is a small quiz asking what your takeaway from each lesson was.
Jack answers them with the most basic of responses hoping beyond hope no one asks him to explain anything he's talking about. Now and then he'll peek over his computer to watch Robby.
At some point he pulled his glasses down, chin resting on his hand as he stares at the screen. A skewed visual of the module he's watching reflects in his glasses, obscuring Jack's favorite part of his face.
Robby's eyes are his weakness. All he has to do is look up at him through thick lashes, or beam a wide, puppy dog stare that has him weak in the knees and sighing "fine." That's how Robby smuggled their two cats past Jack's defenses.
Mango, a black furred cat with no tail and a pissy attitude, found her way in via Robby climbing into his lap and batting his eyes at him.
A pointed, "I think it'd be good for us to have her." while he rolls his hips and Jack is only a man, okay?
Oddball, a year-old kitten that Robby found in an alley behind the bar they were at, got zipped into his jacket after Robby dropped to his knees and gave him a very enthusiastic argument without breaking eye contact.
At least he can see the expressions he's making. For someone who can be stoic as hell Robby doesn't always have control of his face. His very expressive, gorgeous face, with his well-groomed beard and spreading wrinkles. He's spent hours kissing the crinkles in his cheeks, mouthing the lines branching out from his eyes.
Robby clicks his mouse, sighs, then starts typing.
Jack's thoughts turn to how well Robby uses his hands, thick, long fingers burying themselves in his hair. Kneading the muscles down his back, spreading him wide so he can take his — He derails that train of thought, remembering why they're here in the first place.
He refocuses on his modules, working his way through them bit by bit, skin itching, mind going numb as the hour drags on to the next, then the next.
When noon comes around a knock at the door signals their HR arrival. Jack sighs, grateful that this is not only his last fucking quiz but that the person who signs off on them is here.
Robby must have finished already because he looks up from his phone, to Jack, then the door as it swings open. The same twitchy redhead from earlier peeks in, smile still painfully wide, voice still annoyingly chirpy.
"Hello." She steps fully into the room, "Drs. Robinavitch, Abbot, how are we doing?"
Robby pushes his glasses into his hair again and crosses his arms, "Very educated. I've submitted mine."
Jack frowns, peers back at the screen and sees the small green 'submit' box in the lower right corner. He presses his lips together then clicks it, feeling a sense of relief when a giant thank you flashes before the module program closes out.
"Awesome." The redhead, he thinks her name is Anya, claps her hands, "I'm sure both of you understand the reason for this program. Here at PTMC we want all of us workers and visitors to feel welcome and safe. Sometimes the lines can be so easy to step over but with respect and understanding we can keep them in place. I know the two of you are currently in a relationship and both outstanding members of the PTMC family."
Anya's smile falters for a second before it falls back into place, "Which is why I trust that this exercise reminded you of the practices we enforce here-" She holds up three fingers, "Stop, Think and Respect." Her smile broadens, "Can you remind me what this means?"
She twitches, "Dr. Abbot?"
Jack imagines her therapist doesn't get paid enough, "Stop groping your partner in public places." Her eyebrows lift, "Think about if other people are in the area with you." Lips press even tighter, "Respect that not everyone likes a free show."
Robby laughs then quickly tries to cover it with a cough.
Anya gives him a very prissy expression, "Very cute, Dr. Abbot."
She turns her attention to Robby, "Dr. Robinavitch, maybe you could provide a more thorough answer."
Robby aims a withering look in Jack's direction before he responds. "We are professionals who represent the hospital. It is up to us to provide an example of appropriate manners. We should always stop before making a rash decision, think about the decision we are going to make and respect that not everyone agrees with this decision."
Anya grins so wide Jack is worried her cheeks will split apart.
"Thank you, Dr. Robinavitch. I'm sure the two of you will be more careful in the future and remember that consent isn't a one-time conversation." Another hand clap with a little bounce in her step.
"So," Jack stretches the word out, "Can we go?"
Another unimpressed glare is his answer but Anya says yes in a breathless manner, thanks them for their time then leaves.
Robby collects his phone, wallet and backpack, slides his chair into the desk then waits for Jack to join him. Jack himself already has his shit packed and ready to go, coming to stand in front of Robby. He slides his arms around his waist, pulling him flush against his chest.
Robby raises a brow, "What are you doing?"
Jack kisses his neck, "I finished my modules."
"We did." Robby's voice vibrates under his lips.
"Do I get to sexually harass you now?"
Robby plants his palm in the middle of Jack's forehead and shoves him backwards.
