Needless to say, you like Jack. You have no reason to think that anything was unusual, not even when your friends began to make comments. They joke that you're basically having an emotional affair. The first time one of them says it, you laugh so much you nearly pass out. You tell Michael about it on the ride home. He doesn't laugh when you mention the ridiculous little comment, but he does say how glad he is that you're getting along with Jack.

You don't tell Jack about it, though. Not even the next week, when Jack wakes up on your day off with a nice bottle of Kentucky Bourbon. You think about it though, in the moment right before you convince yourself that day-drinking isn't bad for you if you do it with a doctor. Fortunately, it doesn't sour your afternoon, which unfolds with laughter and good company. By sundown, you and Jack are huddled on one end of the couch, talking in hushed tones about, of all things, your weddings.

Jack holds it together fairly well. Despite the grief and the alcohol, his voice is solid when he talks about his wife. Perhaps he's always like this, but you prefer to think it's the comforting hand you place just above his knee that helps Jack speak so freely.

He talks more of their marriage, of his wife. You smile and nod along, sniffle when the emotions become too much for you. Eventually, your head falls to the side, resting against the bicep Jack has thrown over the back of the couch. Jack stops speaking then and observes you. He takes so long to do so that your heart begins to pound in your ears. Then, he speaks.

"You know," Jack brushes a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "You look like her."

That's the moment you first question it. For a fleeting second, but in a full, coherent sentence, you think— now, that's unusual! Quickly,, the thought passes. The brief contact– the comment –gets swallowed up by the booze metabolizing in your stomach, and in the matter of seconds you've entirely forgotten about it in the first place.

When Michael returns that night, he finds you with a lazy grin and a blushing Jack at your side. You point to the nearly empty liquor bottle and tell him to catch the fuck up. He does. Like you, Michael lets the liquor quiet those thoughts of why his wife was getting drunk with his best friend. Though, perhaps the bitterness linger, because when Robby fucks you that night, he makes sure that you don't swallow all those pretty noises you used to make before Jack moved in.

When you truly question the arrangement is at the start of a long weekend. You and Michael have off and decide that the best way to spend the day is by doing nothing, so you lay in bed, snoozing the daylight away. At least, that was the plan.

Ten minutes to nine, the sound of the front door opening and closing reaches your bedroom. It wakes you, but you know well enough that it's only Jack coming home from his double shift. Then, the door to your bedroom opens.

There isn't ample time for you to sit up before a warm body slides into bed behind you. Michael is free to jolt upright. He looks ready to kill before his face falls.

"Morning, sweetheart," Jack's voice fills your ears as arms— also Jack's! —wrap around you. When you attempt to remove yourself, Jack tightens his hold, "Jus' wait a bit. Wanna hold you when I…" Jack's breathing evens. You think he's fallen asleep, but when you try to slip away, Jack utters a name.

His wife's name.

Michael curses softly in front of you. His face is twisted in pain, but as much as your heart aches for Jack, you would very much like to not be spooned by your sleep-deprived friend in front of your husband.

"Michael—"

"Don't," your husband grunts. The blankets pool at his waist. You're still frozen in bed, muscles taught at Jack's hands glide along them. They're lazy motions, ones you've felt countless times from Michael when he's come home from a shift half-dead and almost entirely asleep. "Is he hurting you? Are you… uncomfortable?"

"No," you shake your head, slowing your breath to hopefully stop your heart from pounding like it is. Your effort is made useless when Jack's hand, the one that had been resting on your abdomen, shifts upwards. "Michael," you gasp, voice thin as you try not to look as affected as you are. "He's touching my…"

Your husband's eyes fall to your breasts, once barely covered by your nightgown and now encompassed by Jack's large hand. You feel the calloused pads of his fingers through the silk negligee. Michael's eyes darken, but you find no anger there. None, not even at the sight of another man's hand on you.

When his gaze find your face again, you find his expression that of worry. "Do you want him to stop?" Michael asks.

"What?" Your face heats as you stutter, "M-Michael, he's touching my tit!"

"That's not what I asked, baby," Michael says softly. "It's okay. If you don't want him to stop, that's okay."

Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. It feels as though your brain has stopped working entirely.

Michael just smiles, truly smiles. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you're reminded of the same motion, done by hands so similar to the ones brushing your concealed nipple.

Season 1 takes place over the course of fifteen hours of the same day. It occurs on an odd day (S1E02), a Friday (S1E15), and in September (S1E12, break room calendar; season 2 is set 10 months ahead in July). I think this places the date of season 1 as September 5th or September 19th. For the purposes of this timeline, season one is treated as occurring in September 2025.

It is made explicitly clear that season 2 is set on July 4th, 2026, so season 1 is definitively set in 2025. But before season 2 aired, season 1 had evidence for its 2025 setting:

On YouTube, there is a trailer titled “The Pitt | Official Trailer | Max” (link) with a deleted scene where Collins says to Robby that Adamson’s death was “five years ago today”. We know the death occurred in 2020, so that makes it 2025.

In episode 6, when Shelby Adamson, Adamson’s sister, sends a thank you note to the ER staff, her letter also says it has been five years. A transcription of the note: “To the ER Staff of PTMC, As my brother would have done, I think of you all today. Sending this as a token of thanks for all that you do and all that you did for Monty, five short years ago. With love, Shelby Adamson”

Then, we have that patient in episode 10 who gets hit in the eye playing baseball. He says he is 16 and he was born on December 7th, 2008. This would only make it 2024 if it were December, but it is not.

Finally, Noah Wyle said at the FYC panel after season 1 that season 2 is intended to be set on the Fourth of July weekend, on the 250th anniversary of the US, which makes it July 2026.

*When given the age of a character, I give two possible years the character was born to accommodate for the fact that their birthday may not have passed yet. So, for example, Cassie McKay says she is 42. If we treat season one as being set in September 2025, she is at the latest born in September 1983 if her birthday just passed and she just turned 42. However, it may be the case that her birthday has not passed in the calendar year yet (like Santos, who is a Scorpio and therefore has a birthday sometime in late October to mid-November). This means she can at the earliest be born in September 1982 (say, late September), and turn 43 shortly after the events of season one. I use similar logic for events that happen at a certain age (e.g., Mohan’s dad’s death when she was 13 - she could have just turned 13 or turned 14 later that year).

**Here is the general information that I used to make the timeline for medical training. (Information concerning the American medical school system is compiled from cursory Google searches and browsing sources such as the National Resident Matching Program [NRMP] and Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education [ACGME]. Please be advised that there may be errors and variations may exist. I am not in the medical field, so do correct me!) Following the completion of medical school, new doctors generally begin their residency programs on July 1. The emergency medicine residency program at Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center is a four-year program (S1E04): R1 (interns), R2, R3, and R4. I am assuming all of the attendings and residents who we know did/are doing their residencies at PTMC immediately matched after four years of medical school and began their residencies in the emergency department in the July following graduation unless otherwise stated.

"please—"

it wasn't the first time you'd begged. you'd begged for many, many things in this same position, truth be told. robby behind you, jack below. both of their cocks splitting you open. jack was thick, just like the rest of him—thick fingered, thick bodied, thick cock throbbing and twitching where it stuffed your pussy. robby, on the other hand—long and curved up to the right—enjoyed fucking you in your tight puckered muscle, making you whine and squirm beneath him.

robby laid down over you, crushing you further into jack's chest, who moaned with you at the change in angle. robby’s breath was hot against your ear, his lips pressed into the shell.

"please what, baby? hmmmm?" he groaned, his voice hoarse and cracked, his chest wiry with hair against your slick back.

you brought your hand up to fist in his hair, holding on tight as he pulled his length from you almost to the very tip before thrusting slowly back in.

"oh my god," you heard jack curse, his hands tightening at your hips, his mouth opening in a gasp.

both of them were to the right of you—your face laid down on jack's collarbone, robby's chin hooked over your right shoulder. they were so close. breathing one another's air, enough that you could feel jack’s breath leave him and robby’s cheek shift against the side of your head when he opened his mouth to kiss the crest of your shoulder.

you tightened your grip in the latter's hair.

"wanna see you kisssss—"

jack let out a breathless little laugh, robby chuckling into your shoulder.

"baby, we talked about this—" jack said, his voice hardly more than breath, his chest heaving under yours.

"—but it would be so hottttt," you whined.

robby ignored you. "how's she feel, brother?"

jack's head tipped back into the pillow beneath him, and you watched the rough scruff of his unshaved neck shift as his adam's apple glided up and down, swallowing around the broken gasp he pulled in.

"so god damn good—go a little harder, she squeezes me so fucking tight when you really give it to her, mike."

you barely had time to register the gleam in robby's eyes before he was swinging his hips back again, this time thrusting hard against you, his skin slapping hard, balls clapping right above where jack's cock was buried deep inside.

you squealed and jack groaned loudly. your hand hung on tighter to robby's hair, your other hand digging into jack's shoulder beside your head.

"ohhhh fuck—" you mewled. "so—so deep, robby, oh god—"

"she sounds so pretty when she makes those little noises," jack strained to say, turning to kiss you on the nose. "huh, honey? robby's dick feel good like that? yeah? gimme a kiss."

you tilted your chin, pushing into his lips lazily, your tongue reaching out to lick at his, wet muscles sliding together. when you began to drool out the side of your lips, you brought robby's head down closer, resting your cheek back to jack's chest.

"your turn—" you murmured sleepily, your brain fucked out of any logic.

nothing passed through you but the ecstasy of having these two men and being sandwiched between them and their weight pressing in around you. jack began jerking his hips up into you, making you hiccup and whine, his thrusts getting erratic, his breath heavier.

robby's cock pushed deeper into you too, the pressure of both of them at the same time making you feel so content, so full, so cock drunk.

"please, please," you chanted. "wanna see you kiss so badly—"

"she really does beg so cute, doesn't she?" robby murmured, kissing your shoulder.

"yeah—" the other breathed, a light groan strangling the word as both of them slid in and out of you in tandem—full of jack's cock, then robby's, empty. then again, both of them filing you at the same time. the rhythm made your jaw go slack, your thoughts thinning. it felt so right, with jack below you, robby behind you, both of them too big, too hot, too much. still, you wanted more. wanted this so badly the need burned behind your eyes.

"like this—" you said, ignoring their cooing, and you craned your neck, pressing a chaste kiss to robby's lips.

it was hardly a second, your brain too foggy to make it anything more.

"that's it, huh? that's what you want, honey?" robby murmured, voice even hoarser with mirth as he smiled at you.

"yesss!" you whined, kicking your feet into the bed beneath.

"not good enough to have both of us, huh?" he teased. "such a needy little girl."

"be nice, mike—" jack moaned. "she's a good girl."

his praise always effected you—making you flutter around him, and you knew he could feel it, even with the increased fulless from robby deep inside you with him. he cracked a little knowing smile between moans.

"oh, i know she's a good girl, brother," robby said, and his mouth dragged over the back of your shoulder. "no doubt about it. but we've spoiled her. she thinks she can have whatever she wants."

you pouted, the prick of tears in your eyes not from him denying you, but from the utter fullness of their cocks punching in and out of you. from the easy back and forth of them—robby pretending there wasn’t a soft spot in him you could reach with the simplest look. and jack caught it every time and teased him for it.

"enough talking—" jack cursed. "fuck, fuck, she's tightening up on me— think she's gonna come, mike, oh god—"

"please—" you moaned louder, thrashing a little bit out of frustration.

"fuck it—" robby growled.

he leaned down and placed a kiss on the corner of jack's mouth.

they didn't stop entirely when robby pulled his lips away from jack's. their thrusts only softened into shallow rocks, jack's hands tightening on your skin, both his and robby's throbbing lengths still pressed deep enough inside you that every quiet breath made you feel the stretch of both of them. you held yours without meaning to—waiting, feeling both of them still around you.

robby's chest pressed heavier against your back as he breathed through his nose. you felt jack's beneath you, his ribs expanding, pressing against your breasts.

"yes," you whispered, though not wanting to rush them. your mouth brushed jack's skin when you said it, soft against the damp hollow below his collarbone. "more."

"you're right—" jack huffed a little laugh that shook his chest on the way out. "she really is needy."

robby smiled, as if grateful for the lightness, "told y—"

but he couldn't say anything else, because jack's lips were suddenly on his.

a deep, harmonized groan passed between the two of them, and it did something terrible to you. your stomach dropped, your hips jerked. even a little lick of jealousy flamed in you, warming your skin, but they looked good together. so good. exactly as you pictured it. it made you moan and writhe to see their mouths slot against one another, lips parting, tongues sliding, jack's stubbled jaw working under the rough scrape of robby's beard.

"oh my god," you whispered.

when they paused their kissing, a string of spit connected them, shiny and wet.

"d'you feel that?" robby whispered.

"yeah," jack answered, his one hand squeezing your hip while the other came up to robby's hair along with yours. "her pussy is gripping me like a vice—"

"yeah, she really tightened up—fuck, c'mere."

robby's hand went up to jack's hair too, fisting in the messy graying curls. jack's mouth fell open in a guttural groan, and robby's other hand came to the nape of your neck in answer. he pulled you into himself harshly, his tongue sliding against yours as your mouths met.

it was slick and wet and lewd, and just when you began to moan in earnest, their thrusts picked up again. harder now, less patient. jack fucking up into you from beneath, robby driving into you from behind, the bed frame knocking against the wall harshly again and again.

then you felt a second tongue at the corner of your mouth.

you pulled back only enough to welcome it—jack's tongue sliding against yours, robby's flicking against the two of you together.

the room filled with louder moans and the thick slap of skin, the wet drag of mouths, jack's rough little curses disappearing against your lips. robby's hand stayed tight at the back of your neck, holding you there for it, making you take the kiss you had begged for. you gushed around them, pussy fluttering and convulsing in pleasure.

"come for us, baby," robby whispered between kisses. "come for jackie. he wants you to come all over his big cock."

jack groaned under you, his hips jerking up harder, his member punching even deeper.

"I wanna feel it too," robby said. "c'mon now, gave you what you wanted. now I get to feel this perfect little ass take my come."

"just wanted your boyfriends to kiss, huh, baby?" jack cooed, his hand moving up to grip your face, forefinger and thumb squeezing your cheeks. his thumb hooked into the tender hinge of your lips, sliding along your molars to pry your mouth open wider for the two of them.

you cried out around his salty skin, and he pouted in mock pity as he looked at you.

"come on my cock, baby," jack moaned, leaning in to keep licking and nipping at your lips. "know you wanna, come on my cock now—gonna fill you up so good, mmmm—"

"i'm—i'm—i'm coming—oh, god, oh god—"

"yeah, that's it, that's it—oh fuckkk—" robby groaned, his thrusts slamming harder, turning erratic before he froze up, jaw unhinging, breathing hotly against wanton mouth.

jack's opened too, in shock, in awe, and when you looked at him you saw his eyes go wide before they rolled back behind his eyelids.

your orgasm ripped through you, a heady pressure down your spine and tightening your hips, making your legs lock up before it crested you like an ocean wave swelling and crashing. your hand clenched in robby's hair as your mouth fell open around jack's thumb. both of them groaned in tandem, trapping you between them, both buried deep while your body squeezed down, making jack curse and robby bare his teeth.

as the euphoria eased and your body went loose with the oxytocin flooding your blood, the three of you kept kissing—gentle little nips, soft flicks of tongue, spit sliding and glistening at the corners of your mouths, collecting where lips met and parted. jack retreated his thumb from your mouth to gently pet at your cheek, and they let you have as much as you wanted, just like always. spoiled thing, they'd tell you again afterwards, while they washed your hair in the bath and cleaned you up.

but for now, you kissed them as your eyes grew heavier and heavier, your breathing deepening against jack's chest. robby's weight behind you felt heavy and comforting, tucked between two men, utterly spent and completely content.

The engine of Jacks truck hummed, purring as he cruised down unfamiliar streets lined with wet, lush trees. The November sky was gloomy and gray, the concrete below Jacks tires was damp and covered in fallen leaves. It had rained a few minutes prior, raindrops were a reminder of the fact—sliding down the windshield. Jack had the radio turned down low to a gentle whisper, tuned to some station with 70s music that he loved.

You sat beside Jack in the passenger seat of his beat-up truck, bundled up some coat you thrifted and an old pair of boots. It was that time of year when Pittsburgh got all rainy and muddy; that time of year when it got so cold, the frigid breeze broke through your jacket and seeped into your bones. Regardless—you enjoyed the soups fitting the colder weather, all the pumpkin flavored things, the fall related actives but Jack wasn’t a huge fan of the cold, though. He liked the sun and basking in its love.

Jacks truck smelled like him. Clean, but manly at the same time. The faintest stench of cigarette smoke lingered—a habit Jack had kicked long ago. It also smelled of Jacks dog, Rocky, a very intelligent and energetic German Shepard—who was in the backseat of Jacks truck, peacefully curled up asleep. You and Jack had been on the roads for a few hours now, driving to the small cabin he’s rented out since he was off work for a week. What better way to celebrate a week off than spend it with his loved one in a cabin?

It was a small trip; a break from the real world so you both could catch your breath after drowning for so long. Because of Jack working night shift at the hospital, it wasn’t like you and him got to spend a lot of time together. Your time together was sacred, something to savor. Just having this next week together was like winning the lottery.

Jack drove with one hand on the steering wheel, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it to the beat of whatever song was playing. His other hand rested your thigh, thick fingers nestled in between your thighs, his thumb skimming overtop the material of your pants. The action was so familiar, so simple, it came to Jack like a second nature. Your hand was atop the one that was on your thigh, your fingertips brushing over the protruding veins on the back of his hand.

Jack glanced at his phone, which was propped up on some dashboard stand from Amazon, and read over the GPS. “We’re almost there, baby. Just a few minutes away.” Jack said in a low rumble, squeezing your thigh and looking at you with that crooked smirk of his before turning his attention to the road. You nodded and smiled. “Okay. It’s a shame we’ll have to wake up Rocky. This is the first time I’ve seen him calm…” You looked back at Rocky over your shoulder, seeing the dog was still slumped. Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “He just gets excited around pretty ladies, baby. Can’t blame him, hmm?”

“So, father like son?” You asked playfully. Jack just grinned. “I guess he takes after me.” You two fell into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the drive, save for the soft music coming from the radio. It wasn’t long before Jack was pulling up to a cabin in the midst of a grassy plain by a water stream. The cabin was relatively small, but comfortable. Inviting. “It’s so nice, babe!” You said, unable to help your smile, turning to look at Jack as he parked his truck.

“Anything for you.” Jack murmured, unbuckling himself and turning to face you, returning your smile before leaning in and pressing a few pecks to your lips. He then moved on from your lips, smothering your whole faces in kisses—everywhere from your cheeks to your eyelids. You laughed as his kisses became more aggressive, feeling his over-grown scruff gently scratching against your face. “Okay, okay! Enough, we need to get the bags.” You got out between giggles, pushing Jack away, your glittering eyes meeting his hazel ones. He looked at you warmly. “Alright. Just one more.” He smiled and stole one more kiss from you.

After getting Rocky out of the backseat, Jack and you got your bags and the groceries you’d bought for this trip. Jack got a hold of most of the bags. You walked beside Jack, carrying a few grocery bags in one hand and your duffel bag over your shoulder. You glanced briefly at Jack, shaking your head. “I could’ve gotten more bags.” You told him. Jack was lugging both your backpacks, his own duffel bag and the rest of the grocery bags. You guys could’ve made multiple trips, too, you thought to yourself. Jack was just ambitious. “I got it.” He said while you two walked up the steps to the front door of the cabin.

Rocky circled around your feet, panting excitedly while Jack searched for the keys in his pocket. You smiled down at the dog. “He’s getting the keys, be patient.” Rocky rubbed against your leg and whined. “I know, buddy. You’re happy.” Jack chuckled gruffly, finally fishing the keys out of his pocket and finding the right one among the ring of other keys. Jack unlocked the door with ease and the three of you entered the cabin. Rocky immediately went off the explore. You could hear the tip-taps of his paws against the hardwood flooring throughout the cabin.

You set the grocery bags down on the kitchen island, letting out a sigh of relief. You enjoyed road trips but sitting in the car for a few hours straight wasn’t kind on your body. Jack noticed almost immediately. “Hun, go wash off and relax. I’ll put away everything.” Jack said kindly, setting down the bags he’d been lugging around and looking at you with understanding eyes. You were grateful for Jack. “Alright, I’ll be back soon.” About to leave the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks when Rocky came trotting in and Jack sighed, knowing what time it was. He smiled. “I’ll take him out, too.” He added on, walking over to one of the grocery bags to get the dog food. “Hungry, buddy?” Rocky titled his head at the word hungry and his tail started waving. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

.

Walking through the rest of the cabin, you couldn’t help but to notice how nice the rest of it was. It was safe to say your bedroom at this cabin was nicer than yours back home. It had a large king sized bed with homey, plaid sheets and cute decorative pillows, like something straight off of Pinterest. There was a bathroom attached to your bedroom. Setting your bags down on the foot of the bed, you went over into the bathroom. There was a bathtub, a shower—everything needed for a room to be considered a bathroom. It was also quite great. Cozy. Just perfect for you and Jack.

You got undressed, drew yourself a hot bath and relished in its warmth for way longer than needed: until your fingers got pruny and the water was cold around your submerged body. You had needed it: the quietness. Though, you had to use Jacks shampoo and body wash because of course, you’d remembered everything else but your own shampoo and body wash. You weren’t necessarily complaining—It smelled nice, just like Jack. After drying off, doing your skincare and lathering yourself in lotion, you got dressed in one of Jacks sweatshirts and some sweatpants before going back to the kitchen.

When you found your way back to the kitchen, you found that Jack wasn’t there. You glanced back at the living room and saw Rocky was lying on the floor, chewing up a stuffed squirrel, growling—clearly determined to bring the toy to its demise. You figured Jack was outside. Putting on your slippers, you shuffled outside onto the porch, folding your arms over your chest because you had not put on a bra underneath the sweatshirt you wore. The cold made your nipples stiffen. You saw Jack was by the railing of the porch, holding a beer with his beefy fingers and nursing it. His back was board and clad in his favorite Carhartt jacket. Salt and pepper curls nestled against the nape of his neck. Hearing the creak of the floorboards of the porch, Jack knew you were nearby and smiled around the rim of his beer bottle.

Jack glanced over his shoulder, the corner of his eyes crinkling at the sight of you, drowning in his sweatshirt. “Hey, sweetheart.” Jack murmured, beckoning for you to come over to him with a nod of his chin. You smiled and giggled a little as you hurried over to Jack, letting him wrap his burly arms around you. He was incredibly warm and smelled so good. “It’s so cold out here.” You said against Jacks shoulder, shivering to exaggerate your words. Jack chuckled lowly and tightened his embrace around you. “I know. I don’t know what you were thinkin’, coming out here without a jacket.” He leaned down and smelled your hair, finding the scent familiar. “Did you use my shampoo?” He asked, smirking.

You pulled back from the embrace to look at Jack in the eye, smiling cheekily. “I was looking for you, I didn’t have time to find a jacket and yes, I did. I forgot mine at home.” You said, looking up at Jack, eyes glittering. “I’m not complaining, baby. You smell like mine.” Jack leaned down and kissed you, lingering a moment before pulling back, his face still close. “How was the bath?” He then questioned, rubbing his large palm up and down your spine. “It was good. The tub is probably big enough for the both of us.” Jacks eyes crinkled at the corners and he laughed lowly. “Yeah? Want me to get you all cleaned up, baby?” You giggled, feeling your cheeks warm up. Jacks eyes devoured the sight of the rosy color blessing your face. “Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of you, you know that.” Jack said, reaching down to cup your cheek and skimming his calloused thumb over the flushed-expanse of your cheek. His fingers were thick, calloused from years of medical work. “I know.” You assured Jack, leaning into his palm and looking up at him with those eyes he was so fond of. A sudden rustle from a nearby bush caught your attention. You looked over your shoulder before turning in Jacks arm completely. You were both greeted by the sight of a family of deer gracefully scampering across the yard. A wise doe with its buck and their little fawn, who was adorably struggling to keep up with its parents. Though, they all moved beautifully, with purpose. The doe looked over at you and Jack before walking off into the forest. You looked back at Jack and smiled at him. “Isn’t it great out here?” You asked, twisting to face Jack again.

“Yeah.” Jack murmured, brushing some hair out of your face, admiring you more so than the deer that had graced them. You knew it all too well. After a moment of eye contact and silence, Jack cleared his throat. “How about I make us some dinner? What’re you in the mood for?” He then asked, clearing the silence between you two. “Uhm. Something with chicken? I can help.” You offered and Jack smiled. “Okay.” You and Jack cooked together often. It was a nice habit, too. Jack tried to stop ordering out so much. Besides, you liked watching Jack while he cooked.

.

In the kitchen, you were cutting up some broccoli to steam. Jack stood at the stove, preparing rice while the chicken he had seasoned and cut cooked on a pan. It was a simple yet efficient dinner, Jack had claimed. Rocky laid by your feet, eyeing Jack with pleading eyes but remaining quiet. You (also) couldn’t help but sneak a look at Jack while in the midst of cutting up the broccoli. He’d taken off his jacket. He wore a simple navy blue sweater that clung to his muscular physique. The sleeves of the sweater were pushed up his elbows, revealing his strong, beefy forearms and the veins that ran along them while he simply stirred up the sizzling chicken. His hands looked good, too. Lots of veins. Thick fingers. You bit your lower lip before suddenly—you felt the knife slide and cut your finger. You set the knife down immediately and hissed, grabbing your shaking hand and examining the cut. It was a small one, but it still hurt. A dark crimson oozed from it, down your finger.

“Shit, ow. I just fucking—” You took a deep breath to collect yourself, walking over to the sink, garnering Jacks concern. “I just cut myself.” You mumbled, turning on the faucet and running water over your cut. Jack walked over to you, placing hand on your lower back as he looked down at your hand. “It’s alright, hun. Lemme get you a bandaid. Keep doing that.” Jack murmured before calmly going to the bathroom to retrieve a bandaid. Sighing, you look up towards the window overtop the sink, trying to distract yourself from the stinging. It was raining outside, you noticed—watching as the trees swayed in the wind, the sky all cloudy and dark. Jack came back quickly, opening the bandaid and tossing its wrapper on the counter as he walked up to you, taking your hand and looking over the cut.

“You’re alright.” He decided, his voice a low rumble while he carefully wrapped the bandaid around your finger. Not too tight or loose. Just right. “There you go. Better?” Jack asked, meeting your gaze. You nodded. “Yeah.” You said, feeling small. “Kiss it?” You then held out your hand for Jack. His gaze flickered between your hand and your face, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re just a baby, huh?” Jack grabbed your hand and pressed a featherlight kiss to the bandaid-clad finger before moving up to your knuckles, peppering a kisses along them while keeping eye contact with you.

.

Dinner had been good. Tasty, like usual. Jack was a real good cook. You cleaned up the kitchen in return for Jack making dinner while he went off to your bedroom to wash off. After wiping down the counters and putting away the dishes and turning off the kitchen lights, you went to go put Rocky to bed. Rocky was in the living room, on the carpet, half asleep. “Hey, buddy. Ready to go to bed?” You asked the dog, who perked up tiredly from its spot on the ground. “Yeah, you’re tired, huh? Let’s go to bed. Come on.” Rocky slowly got up onto his paws and followed you over to his crate. He got in with a trained ease and sat, awaiting his nightly treats. “Good boy.” You cooed, reaching into your pocket to pull out two little treats for Rocky.

“Take nice.” You then instructed, holding out one treat for Rocky to take. The dog leaned forward and gently took the treat from your palm, chewing it and eagerly awaiting the next one. You gave him one last treat and rubbed between his ears. “Good boy, Rocky!” You smiled at the dog, cupping his face before moving to lock up the crate. “Good night, buddy.” You finished locking up the crate before standing up and stretching, about ready for bed, too. It was pretty late, after all. You began walking back to your bedroom, turning off all the cabin lights along the way.

Emerging from the dark hallway, you entered your warmly lit bedroom. Jack was out of the shower and was in bed, clad in just a black shirt that stretched across his chest and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His readers were perched atop his nose as he looked down at his phone, brows pinched in concentration. Jacks salt and pepper curls were still damp. His prosthetic leg was propped against his night stand. He was relaxed. Tired, even. But seeing him like this gave you other thoughts than sleep. You worried at your lower lip and made your way over to the foot of your bed, crawling over to Jack and situating yourself to straddle his lap. Jack looked up from his phone and smiled a little before looking back at the screen, probably scrolling through the news.

“Give me attention.” You murmured, shifting your hips against Jacks, your hands coming up to his shoulders. “Baby, I’m reading something. You’ve had my attention all day.” Jack said, his eyes still on his phone. You sigh and take his phone from his hands and toss it elsewhere on the phone, smiling cheekily. “Come on, daddy..” You whined before unexpectedly, Jack snaked his arms around your waist and flipped you over so that he was on top of you, coaxing out laughter from you. Your laughter was quickly muffled by Jacks lips against yours. Giggles turned into shaky breaths. You wrapped your arms around Jacks neck, holding him against you while he deepened the kiss, running his slick tongue over your plush bottom lip. Jack tasted like minty toothpaste and he was oh so warm. He kissed you deliberately once he settled between your thighs, hips bracketed against yours.

You tasted sweet, like the wine you had with dinner and the raspberry chapstick you wore. Jack couldn’t get enough. He kissed you until your lips were swollen. He pulled back briefly to catch his breath before leaning back in, capturing your lips more hungrily, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. Your body fit perfectly against Jacks, like you were made for him. You drove him crazy, even after a few years of being together. He’d been waiting all day to get his hands on you. Jack slid his hands down the sides of your body until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants. He dipped his hand underneath the waistband until he found the flimsy cotton fabric of your panties, feeling the dampness that soaked it with his fat fingers. “You’re already wet for me, huh, baby?” Jack smirked against your lips while pulling back just enough to look at your face, taking in the glossiness of your eyes and the rosiness of your swollen lips.

Jacks hand easily dove underneath your panties to find your aching pussy, gathering up some of the slick on his fingertips before reaching your clit and pinching it. You cried softly, your hips bucking up in his hand. “You wanted attention, honey…” He said gruffly, his dark eyes watching your face while it contorted in pleasure as he circled your clit. “Do you want me to be mean?” Jack then questioned before you managed to shake your head, panting as you began to succumb to the pleasure, to the ecstasy strangling you. “Okay, baby, I’ll be nice and fuck you.” Rain pattered angrily against the window. Thunder roared, lightning struck, but nothing would come in Jacks way—not even his readers, which got torn off his face.

Jack began to undress you with a practiced ease. First went your sweatpants and panties. You lifted your hips up to help Jack take them off. He tossed them onto the floor and then quickly reached for hem of your (his) sweatshirt and tugged it over your head before it accompanied your pants on the floor. Jack looked at your naked body, eyes eating you up—inch by inch. Supple skin. Nice tits. Fuck, he loved you inside and out but you were just beautiful. He reached down with his beefy hands and spread your thighs further apart, revealing your puffy pussy. Slick leaked from your hole. The sight should be illegal. It was utterly sinful. Jack breathed out. His chest felt tight, and so did his boxers. Just looking at you had him spinning. “Want me to take care of you, baby? hmm?” You nodded, whining. “Yes, please, Jack—please, plea—” You pleaded desperately before getting cut off by Jack. “You don’t gotta beg for me, not like this.”

He murmured before beginning to adjust himself on the bed, so he was lying down—his head between your thighs, his beefy hands grabbing onto your thighs. Jack reached between your legs and spread your folds with his fingers, admiring the glossiness of your pussy before he leaned in and licked a stripe betwixt your folds. He relished in the salty taste of your slick and he continued to lick your pussy, slow, torturous. You arched your back and reached down to tangle your fingers in Jacks curls, tugging them and grinding against his face, panting. Your moans bounced off the walls. You were loud, to say the least. Jack loved it. He loved everything about you with a passion. Though, some selfish part of him wanted to ruin you. Fuck you until you couldn’t speak. Fill you with his seed. But he knew you needed this—needed him. Besides, he promised he’d be nice. Jack wasn’t one to break a promise.

Jack placed one thick hand on your lower stomach, keeping you still while he continued to lather you up with his salvia, breathing heavily as your taste coated his tongue. You could hear the wet noises of Jacks tongue working with your pussy and it made you dizzy. Warmth was beginning to pool low in your stomach—a sort of knotted tension building up only Jack could untie. Jack finally moved his tongue over to your throbbing, aching clit. He sucked on the swollen knob and flicked his tongue over it. You couldn’t help the noises that came out of you. Jack drew them out of you without even really trying to. “Jack, I-Im gonna.. I’m gonna come.” You whimpered, her fingers tightening their grasp on Jacks scalp. He hummed against your pussy, making no effort to speed up or slow down—or even to reply to you verbally. Jack didn’t want to stop, he wanted to push you over the edge. He kept the same pace, circling the tip of his tongue around your clit with precision until he felt your thighs tensing around his head.

Just as you were about to come, Jack moved one of his hands between your thighs and because of how slick you were, he easily sunk two fat fingers into your cunt. Jack slid his fingers in and out a couple of times before he curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made you see stars. You let one final whine, bucking your hips up into Jacks face—your head thrown back as more milky slick spewed out of your rosy pussy. Relenting, Jack pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean, eyes on yours, admiring the blissful, dazed expression on your face. He also didn’t hesitate to lick you clean. Your body jolted because you were sensitive. A pleasured hum buzzed throughout your veins, but you weren’t quite satisfied. “You did so good for me. You taste so good. You’re perfect, baby.” Jack murmured gruffly, moving to sit up and crawl overtop you, kissing you slowly before pulling back, looking in your eyes.

Jack knew you all too well. “Still hungry?” Jack asked lowly. “My baby still needs to be taken care of, hmm? You want my cock inside you?” He continued. You nodded but Jack didn’t comply. “Use your words.” Jack instructed, reaching up to your breast, twisting one of your erected nipples, earning a shy whimper from you. You felt your cheeks get hot. Your heart was drumming against the confines that were your ribs. You swallowed, your throat dry. “I-I want your cock inside of me.” You said quietly, still breathing a little heavily, and Jack quirked an eyebrow. “What was that?” He asked, clearing teasing to fluster you even more. “You said you’d be nice.” You said before letting out a moan as Jack pinched your sensitive nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger. “I just want to hear your pretty little voice say it for me. Please, baby.” Jack whispered. After a moment, you mustered up the courage. “I want your cock inside me, daddy.” You then uttered, louder but still shy about the lewd words coming from your mouth. Jack smirked, pleased with himself. God, he felt crazy. He loved when you called him that. “Anything for you, baby.”

Jack began to undress himself while you laid on the bed, watching hungrily. Jack pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his toned body and plump pecs. There was a gray stubble over his chest because he hadn’t had the time to save. Freckles dusted over his broad shoulders and strong arms: freckles were everywhere on his body. Feeling your eyes on him while he undressed just made him harder, if possible. You’d think at his age, Jack would have a hard time getting it up. But he proved you wrong—every. single. time. It wasn’t very long before Jacks pants and boxers were coming off—following your clothes and his shirt on the floor. While he’d been taking off his boxers, his cock had sprung out and so had his well trimmed bush. His dick curved slightly upwards and was thick, taut with arousal and veiny. The flushed tip was swollen, leaking with precum and begging for attention. The size has always been a little intimidating for you, but you’ve accommodated well to it over the years.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes lingering on Jacks cock before flickering back up to his face, admiring the way his eyebrows pinched together. Jack grabbed your left thigh and pushed it over to your right one, so the lower half of your body was twisted. “Stay like that.” He murmured instructivlely, moving closer to your ass while he grabbed the base of his cock, stroking the shaft a few times before rubbing his tip against your entrance. A low groan rumbled in the back of Jacks throat, feeling your pussy slobber all over his tip. He hasn’t even properly fucked you yet. “Want you so bad, baby.” You whimpered softly. “Please, stop teasing.” Hearing your words, Jacks restraint wavered and he immediately slid himself into you. Your walls welcomed him in, fluttering and you moaned, letting your head fall back against the pillow. “Okay, I’ll be good, baby girl. Daddy will fuck you good.” Despite having half a leg less, Jack still knew how to work himself and he could work himself well.

Jack began thrusting his hips, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Every time he slid back in, it felt like you were milking him. You were so tight. Your walls were so velvety, so warm. So good, too good for him. Jack began breathing heavily. He reached down and groped your ass before smacking it. The thwack of him slapping your ass echoed sharply throughout the room. You cried softly and reached out to grab onto Jacks thigh, your nails digging into his skin, leaving small crescent moon indents. “Again, daddy.” You pleaded weakly. The air was getting knocked out of you with each thrust. You could feel him hitting the deepest spot within you. “Mhmm, yeah? I thought you wanted me to be nice.” Jack slapped your ass again, harder this time. “You jus’ like when I’m a little mean, huh? You like daddy to be rough?” You nodded, mouth agape.

With every thrust, Jacks pelvis hit your ass. You could hear the squelch of his cock moving in and out of your pussy, the slap of skin against skin, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of the headboard hitting the wall, the bed strings squeaking underneath the shift of weight and the sound of your noises mixing with Jacks—a melody you never wanted to forget. Jacks name poured of your mouth like a mantra: over and over again, like you knew nothing other than his name. Jacks rhythm was beginning to get sloppy, his groans and praises becoming more frequent. Every word he uttered sent lightening to your body that struck your spine with pleasure. His cock felt so good inside of you. Your walls pulsed around his every movement. You felt so incredibly full. “You take me so well,” Jack grunted, his eyes watching your pussy swallow his cock whole. “Fuck.. you’re such a good girl for daddy. You gonna take this load?” He asked, thrusting harder, coaxing louder moans from you.

“Yes, yes.. please give it to me, daddy!” You cried, grabbing onto Jacks shoulder to pull him into a kiss, your lips meeting in a desperately hungry kiss. Teeth clashed briefly. Jack bit your lower lip and tugged on it harshly, relishing in the whimper it drew from you. Tongues mingled, slick and wet. Simultaneously, you felt the knot within you loosening. The warmth that had pooling deep within you exploded. You tightened your arms around Jacks neck, keeping him close while you came and after a few thrusts, Jack was following right after you, groaning into your mouth and breathing heavily, his thrusts slowing until he completely halted. He fell limp over your body. You two laid like that for a moment—catching your breath, basking in the ecstasy of climax. Jack eventually pulled his cock out of you, watching it fall flaccid. His eyes then flickered to your puffy pussy, watching his white, milky seed leak out of it. Jack smirked tiredly and reached down, soothingly rubbing over the swollen folds. “So pretty.” He crooned gruffly. “You did great, baby.”

.

Robby didn't want to re-count the harshest things he'd said to you that night, pulling out any card he could think of to upset you. Why? Because he had been upset. Because you were there? Because you'd been doing everything you could for him to love you and damn it but it worked.

Robby fell in love after promising a casual fling with you.

Now, two years gone by without you in his bed he was reaping the fruits of his labour.

He loved you too late, you left him too early. Something of that kind of tragic thing.

“Morning, Cap!” Dana greeted as he walked in through triage.

He offered her a pulled smile, tight in his cheeks.

The only person who might've had this date marked in their diary was Dana. She kept track of all his bad days.

“If you want I can start you of in north four, got a kid wheezing?” she offered, following him around as he dumped his bag at his work station, peeling back his coat and hanging it over his chair.

“Trying to get your money's worth with me?” he asked, trying to tease.

“Trying to distract you,” she said, honestly. “It's gonna be a tough day today.”

Robby huffed out a laugh. “It's always a tough day.”

Typically it took hours for Robby to make his way to the lounge. Maybe he'd steal five minutes around noon to raid the cupboards for something to keep him going, fill up a water bottle and leave it on his desk not to be touched till it was too late. This morning he'd roused late, had no time to make himself a coffee to go and if he was gonna get through the day he needed a coffee.

Pushing open the door it proved a hard fit as a group of doctors and nurses lingered around the table.

“Woah- woah, we seeing patients in the lounge now, huh?” he asked. “What happened to being doctors?”

The crowd dispersed and he found you in the middle of it all. You pushed yourself up from the table and the crowd parted for you and Robby like the red sea.

“Sorry, that's- that's my fault,” you said.

Robby nodded, lingering. He suddenly felt like he was intruding in his own department.

Slowly everyone began to pile out. Santos led the way, Princess and Perhlah behind talking in their native language so Robby had no idea what they were saying. Whitaker was leaving, sheepishly avoiding Robby's gaze and Samira and Javadi left next, smiling and talking about dresses for the big event.

Mel left next with a short 'congratulations' to you.

Langdon was last to leave, pausing at the doorway.

“You know, Abbey had a wedding planner, helped iron things out and got things on the cheap,” he said. “I can ask and get you her number?”

Wedding planner.

Robby knew what it meant. He went to med school- he wasn't an idiot. Yet he still asked himself if it was a friend of yours getting married. He dared not even look down to your hand.

Your mouth hung open a second before you closed it and nodded. “Er, yeah, Frank, that sounds good. Thank you.”

Langdon nodded and patted Robby on the shoulder before letting the door close behind him.

It two years Robby could count the private conversations you'd had together on one hand.

You stood at the table, hands behind your back. You weren't moving to leave.

“You're... getting married?” he asked, surprising himself with how much level he kept to his voice. There was no notes of emotion, he thought. If there was you'd be able to see through him, probably.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm engaged.”

Robby had only heard six months ago that you and a guy up in Pedes were doing well and had apparently been doing well for a while. Somehow the information had never kept up with him. He blamed Dana, the only person to know about your no-strings-attached plan turned sour. She was trying to protect him.

He nodded. “Can I see?”

The table stood in between the two of you as you hesitantly held out your left hand.

A gold band with a sizable rock sat there like a foreign object on your ring finger. It was too flashy, he thought first, it didn't feel like you. It felt like a show on a hand.

You, he thought, were an understated kind of person. You didn't like flashy. You didn't like everybody's attention on you at once. Heck- he imagined everyone fawning over you before he interrupted was your idea of hell.

Back when the two of you had something you'd blush every time he passed too closely and whisper in your ear or stutter when he touched you as subtly as possible between seeing patients.

There was a reason your casual thing was kept secret. Robby didn't care if others knew, he'd never cared.

Robby gently took your hand, inspecting it closer. “S'real.”

You chuckled, dry. “Is that all you have to say?”

Robby watched as his thumb soother over the back of your hand, rubbing up and down. He knew that his brain had told him to do that, he was a doctor. He didn't know why or how to stop it. “S'nice. What's his name again?”

“Tom.”

Robby nodded. Slowly, he dropped your hand. “Tom,” he mused. “Tom up in pedes, I'm sure he's a nice guy.”

A guy with kids was always a sure way to win your heart. A guy who could shoe affection, for sure. More than him. He was feeling sorry for himself but couldn't find it in him to care.

“Yeah, you really sound like you believe it,” you said.

Robby lifted his shoulders in response, moving around behind you to get himself a cup of coffee.

“Are you happy for me?” he could hear the un-certainty you asked it with, as if you didn't know if you wanted to know the answer. He could picture you behind him, fiddling with the new ring on your finger, twisting it back and forth.

He was happy for you. Maybe. Even more miserable for himself. “Does it matter?”

“To me, yeah,” you admitted. “And don't ask me why, I'm- I'm not sure why I care.”

Robby knew. It was because you were a caring person, that's what made you such a good doctor, maybe too good a one. You cared about him when he didn't deserve it and still you seem to hold some sort of affection with him.

The pot of coffee grew hot in his hand and he poured it slowly, splashes hitting the back of his hand.

“Are you happy? With him?” he asked in a clipped tone, still without-facing you.

It was your turn to keep the silence. You scoffed, a little chuckle escaping you. “Yeah. I... I think I am.”

That moment of second guessing, that beat of a pause was enough to have Robby thinking you weren't. A chance. That's what was dangling in front of him like a dog with a bone.

Robby considered you, coffee in hand. “You think?”

Though he broke your heart in the end by denying you all parts of him Robby knew that in the rare moments you shared alone, you always found happiness. Whether it was on the tail end of his fingers inside of you, or tongue, or cock, or whether it was simply falling asleep in his bed after a hard shift there was always a genuine smile on your face.

You tilted your head back to get a good look at him. Your laid your hands flat on the table. “I am,” you corrected yourself.

“Then I'm happy for you.”

The coffee burnt his tongue as he took a sip and left you in the lounge, relishing in the heat.

He could pinpoint the moment things began to shift between the two of you.

Robby had been circling around you all day like a shark with a fish. For months- in fact- years it had been that way. Robby handing off a tablet to you, asking about a patient for two minutes and any plans you had for the next five to try to get you to come to his, or he yours. Everyone knew at that point what was becoming off the twoe of you.

There hadn't been any trips from other wards, like Neuro, or social services, or insurance under the pretence of following up on patients only to casually slide up next to Robby. That space, once reserved for his casual 'seven week' thing was taken up by you.

His rather serious casual fling.

The two didn't really go together and if Robby had cared to note that back then he might've been able to hold onto what you had a little longer.

“Patient in twelve?” he asked when you walked up to him, handing him a tablet.

“Waiting for a pysc consult. The woman swears she's pregnant but bloods and ultrasound show nothing.”

He nodded, trying to think of anything else to ask when all he wanted to know if you were going back to his with him at the end of the shift. You had been busy last night, said you had plans and for the first time in months Robby realised how cold and empty the other side of his bed was without you.

“Are you busy tonight?” Robby asked.

You tilted your head down. “Um, no.”

He nodded, scanning the area and wondering who would be listening in. Lucky for him Princess and Perlah, the common perpetrators of gossip, were on the other side. “So mine tonight?”

The blush that crept up your cheeks he hadn't seen since you began this thing.

“Yeah. Sure. Can do.”

Robby peered close at you, wondering what the curt response, almost clipped was for. He decided you were thinking about patients, didn't entertain any other idea.

His hand worked at rubbing your shoulder once before walking by you.

“Actually-” you spoke out, quick on his heels and chasing him down. He slowed his pace just enough for you to walk beside him. “Do you want to, maybe, get food first? I'm starving.”

It was only noon. There was plenty of time for you to get something to eat before he took you home.

“Nah,” he said casually. “I'm sure I got something I cook.”

“Are you sure you want to cook? You'll be tired, there's a place not far from yours, we drive by sometimes, it's Thai I tink.”

Robby still didn't see what you were trying to put down. Or maybe, somewhere in the back of his head he knew but didn't want it to register. He smirked to himself, thinking and leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I won't be too tired to make you come repeatedly, believe me.”

Whatever argument you were trying to make died in your throat as you smiled and kept your head low.

“Okay,” you said, breathless. “Well how about you pick me up from mine at like, nine? If we get out on time.”

Robby had never picked you up from yours to take you to his and press you into the mattress. On occasion he could fuck you in your room, have you melting into his touch in the comfort of your own home but more often than not it was at his place. You would take a long stroll to his if the shift had been bad or he'd take you on his bike you still hated.

It was only a recent thing where you started staying over at his, falling asleep after he'd ravished you. Honestly, he didn't mind it. Robby hadn't realised how much he missed waking up to someone since Jake's mom.

“Just come straight to mine,” Robby shrugged, hands in his pockets.

“I don't know if I want to eat your leftovers.”

“I'll cook.”

“I need a shower then, it's been a crappy morning, I probably smell.”

Robby leaned in subtly, taking a deep inhale. Sure there was a faint wisp of hospital stuck to you but under that there was the sweetness that always had him burying his face in your neck as he released, licking up your sweat like it was honey. “Shower at mine.”

“You telling me you can't at least pick up a woman up before you fuck her all night long?” you asked, pausing in your steps.

He paused to. The promise of all night long re-played in his head. A successful distraction on your end.

“Nine tonight,” you said before sauntering away, leaving Robby reeling.

The rest of the day he didn't get a spare moment to think about it, about why you were so insistent on going home first. He thought maybe you wanted to wash your hair or shave but stuff like that had never bothered him or you. Did you want to change? Make your self pretty for him? He wasn't opposed but any nice clothes you put on wouldn't last long and any makeup would be smeared off by the end of the night.

He caught you at some point talking with Dana, the both of you leant up against a wall in a quiet time.

You seemed stressed. Your shoulders were high, tense and as Dana spoke you. You rubbed at your forehead with the back of your knuckles every now and then but Robby couldn't see what Dana was telling you. He only watched as the older woman who looked out for everyone rubbed your arm soothingly and smiled sadly before leaving.

You didn't see him watching you as you took a deep breath, shaking off whatever was bothering you.

Robby didn't even scan around; he be-lined straight to you. “Hey.”

You glanced back at him, focusing in. “Hi.”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You and Dana? You seemed to be talking, it seemed serious. Everything okay?”

You nodded, flashing him a tight smile. “Yeah. Just a tough pedes case, girl comes in after tripping on the stairs, breaking her arm but looks like there's burn marks on her arms and bruises at her hip.”

“You think abuse?”

You sighed heavily and Robby wanted nothing more than to message the tension out of your shoulders. He made a promise to himself to do it tonight. “It's hard not too.”

“Okay. I'll get someone from upstairs to come and-”

“- don't worry about it, I already called a guy down from pedes.”

Robby nodded and seconds later the two of you were moving through a trauma with perfect understanding of each other. He didn't know if it came from the understanding of bodies in a physical sense or if you really had just spent so much time familiarising yourself with each other.

But concern was brought around again when he spotted you only an hour away from the end of your shift ,standing at the counter with a man he didn't recognise.

He was dressed well, better than him, in a shirt and pants hidden behind a white doctors coat. He could see clean hair pushed back in curls, slightly longer. He was leaning on the counter over at you as if he'd always belonged there.

He was in Robby's space.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral as he joined the two of you at the counter. “Can I help you?”

Robby looked between the two of you.

The guy was older than you but younger than him, a healthy stubble on his chin and green eyes. Handsome in a way most men were.

Robby caught sight of his name on the coat, Thomas something.

“Oh no, sorry, we were just talking about our pedes case,” he said with a smile.

Robby nodded, looking at you.

“Everything... okay?” he asked. He didn't know why it wouldn't be but still he thought to check.

“Yeah, yeah, course,” you said.

“Great,” said Robby.

He didn't move and neither did Thomas and you stood on the other side of the counter, shifting your weight on foot to foot.

Thomas caught the vibe, drumming his knuckles on the counter and backing away slowly. “The social care team will be down, I'll talk to them.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“I'll call you later.”

Call? Later? Robby watched Thomas walk away and he looked back at you with a soft smile.

When Robby looked back at you you were looking down at the counter.

“Whooo- what was that?” he asked, arms folded over the counter and crowding you in.

“Tom from up in pedes, I asked him to look at that little girl,” you said casually. The way you and him had been talking though, leaning in closer together had been anything but casual.

“I didn't know you knew a guy in pedes,” he said.

You lifted your shoulders in indifference, still not meeting his gaze. “Yeah we've known each other a couple months now.”

Robby waited for you to look at him, to see the frown on his face and smile at him, soothing him the way you did with gentle hands running along his forearms and a kiss to his cheek.

You did none of that.

“Is there anything I should know about the guy?” he asked, wondering if he really wanted to know.

You didn't talk at first and Robby's chest squeezed, like someone had wrapped fingers around his heart and squeezed.

You looked up at him. “We... Tom and I-”

“- Tom?” how long had you known each other to call him Tom?

“- we went on a date last night. Tom and I.”

Around the Pitt he could hear the squeak of wheels and catch the push of gurneys going by. All he could focus on was you.

A date? You hadn't said anything but then again, why would you? He'd never asked because he'd never though to ask? Everyone around the ED knew you had something going on, even patients had picked up on signals some times. He expected word had travelled past the whole PCMT about the two of you.

“A date?” he didn't mean to chuckle, looking back it probably wasn't a good thing.

You looked up at him, something hard and un-wavering in your eyes. “Well we're only casual right?”

“Yeah.” That is what he'd said.

“I can date whoever I want because I'm a free woman.”

He nodded, lips pursed.

“It's not like you probably haven't seen someone else while we're...”

Robby's tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth as he clocked his head. He hadn't so much as looked at another woman when you were there to satisfy his needs. Clearly you couldn't say the same.

In the face of you admitting your date with a guy he didn't need to tell you that you were the only one he returned home to. The only one his lips had familiarised.

“Still on for tonight?” was all he asked.

You nodded.

“Nine at yours.”

When the end of the shift rolled around Robby didn't even check in with you, he got back to his and cracked open a beer. It was already seven o'clock. Were you home, dressing yourself up? Had you wanted to go home first to fit in your call with Thomas?

The thought made him sick and the beer can squashed in his hand, spilling beer over.

At eight he was getting back on his bike and taking the well known road to yours. By half eight he was punching in the apartment code and taking the stairs two at a time to you.

Before he'd even knocked at your door he could smell the faint aromas from you kitchen and the low drum of music.

Was Tom on the other side of the door?

The thought had him knocking a little too harsh.

You paused the music on the other side of the door and swung it open.

“You're early,” you said, holding open the door for him.

“I couldn't wait.”

Robby was already pulling off his jacket as he stepped in and kissed you. He wasted no time in getting your lips to part under his, in licking your lips and getting the faint traces of red wine lying there like lipstick.

As always you hummed a little into his mouth, swinging the door shut behind him.

Robby was inclined to have you on the nearest surface but when he looked to see what it was- the kitchen island- he caught two plates and two wine glasses. His breath caught. “You have company?”

You nodded, happily. “You,” you said, dancing around him. You picked up his coat and slung it over the back of a chair before moving back around the kitchen.

Robby was stuck in an air of confusion with a half hard cock.

“I thought we could eat, before heading to yours,” you said, stirring around in pots and pans. “You like bolognese, don't you?”

“Yeah. But, you know, I ate before coming,” he lied.

You snorted. “Yeah I'm sure left over pizza and beer counts. You can eat a bit more, can't you?”

Robby looked at the plates and the wine poured. There was a couple candles he'd never noticed before lit around the place casting a dull orange glow.

You were back to stirring the pots, setting an almost perfect and strange domestic setting to the place. He was sure his place had never looked so comforting, so homely.

He approached behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you into him. “I dunno,” he said, gruffly. “I think I've got my mind on other things.”

His beard scratched your neck as he dragged his lips down but he knew you relished in the burn. It had you leaning into him and tilting your neck back for more. His hands palmed at your stomach and he let his tongue lick over your pulse.

Yes, what you were cooking smelled good and yes he was hungry but he was also in desperate need of you withering under him and feeling you un-ravel with his tongue. It was what he was good at. Sometimes he thought it was the only thing he was good at.

“Robby...” your eyes started to flutter shut and Robby's hands moved up your shirt, roughly cupping your breasts and squeezing.

“Bedroom,” his lips tugged and pulled at the lobe of your ear.

“But-” you gasped, hands gripping your kitchen counter. “- the food.”

If Robby didn't know any better (which he was proving at that point in time, he didn't) he'd have almost thought you were stalling.

“How about I work you up an appetite first?” with two fingers on your cheek he turned you to look at him and smashed his lips into yours, stealing your breath and sanity.

Your fingers fumbled to turn off the hob before you turned in his hold, reciprocating his kiss and urgency. “Eat after?”

He nodded, full intending to never sit down and take a meal with you.

By midnight Robby realised there was something wrong.

Not with the chemistry of your bodies, you still moved together in perfect sync, you could still tremble on his fingers and feed into his lust with your own. You were still like two, new, young lovers discovering passion for the first time.

But afterwards you laid next to him, catching your breath before quietly dismissing yourself to the toilet, grabbing one of your old, tatty, shirts from the floor and throwing it off.

It was always good to go after sex, especially as you both preferred it without condoms. Yet after enough time in the bathroom for him to become suspicious, Robby called out.

“You OD'D in there?” he called out.

There was still nothing.

Then the sound of the sink turning on.

Robby waited, your covers pulled up over his lap, his head rested back on his arm.

You came out three minutes later and he looked at you.

Your cheeks were red, eyes glossed over and shirt hanging off your body. Usually you were never in a rush to cover up, flaunting your body around him and spiking arousal again like it was all a game to you.

Robby frowned. You seemed so small in your own room then, lingering in the bathroom doorway. “Something wrong?”

You tugged at the hem of your shirt. You moved, sitting on the edge of your bed. “I want us to go out for dinner.”

“Now?” he asked with a hardly concealed smirk. “I don't think there'll be anywhere open.”

“No, not-not now,” you said, gulping. You didn't laugh or roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke. “At some point I think we should.”

Robby knew at that point he was teetering on the edge of something he might not come back from. One wrong choice of words and he might lose you. “Why?”

You looked at him, gaze painfully blank. “Robby.... C'mon.... you know why.”

He feared he did.

He snorted, propping himself up on his arm. “What like- like a date?”

You thought about it and nodded.

When you and Robby started sleeping together outside of work he thought it was a mutual choice to keep it casual. You'd never pushed him for more and he appreciated it. With others he'd had to express his desire to keep things on the low and as casual as possible. You just got it, discreet invitations to each others house.

Maybe after a year of this non-commitment he should have expected more.

“I thought we were keeping this casual?” he said, looking down and away from you.

It was your turn to chuckle quietly. “What, for two years?”

“It hasn't been-”

“Twenty months, Robby.”

“You've been counting?” he scoffed.

“N-no I just-”

“I'm tired. Can we talk about this later?” he asked, flopping down on your bed. Usually he always found your mattress comfortable but at that moment it felt like a bed of rose thorns.

There was silence and for a blissful moment, Robby closed his eyes and thought he'd got away with delaying the inevitable.

“No, I don't think we can.”

Robby's chest caved. “Okay.” He swung himself up, back to you, switching on your bedside lamp and searching for his clothes.

“What are you doing?”

“If you wanted out, you know, all you had to do was say,” said Robby, talking over every argument you tried to make. “I thought we both understood what this was, that it was just a thing we did-”

“- yeah I did when we started but, come on,” you said, rounding on him as he buttoned up his pants. “Do you really not see this going anywhere?”

Robby didn't say anything, pulling his shirt over his head. “I've got to go.”

He got to his feet but you stood in front of him, a hand out to his chest stopping him.

“Do you see this going anywhere?”

He groaned. “My god, what does it matter?”

“It matters! It matters to me!”

“No I don't see this going anywhere!”

You recoiled like he'd hit you with a bullet.

Robby dragged his hands down his face, taking the couple seconds it brought him. “Listen, it's... it's not you-”

You scoffed, hands planted on your hips. He hated that even then, arguing with him, you looked beautiful. “It's not you, it's me, right?” you mocked.

“I'm not a dating guy, I thought you knew that!” he argued.

“I know your not, geez, I know but I thought... I just thought that after some time you'd change your mind.”

Something twisted and sour settled in his stomach, coiling like a snake.

“Did you only start fucking me in hopes I'd go out with you?”

You looked aghast that he'd even ask. He felt just as terrible for asking. But this was him, not glossed over or lost in kisses. This was what he had to offer. “What? No. No, of course not-”

“That's pretty manipulative if you did,” he said.

“I didn't.”

Robby pulled on his boots next, tying them hastily, pulling a little too tight. “If you wanna go on romantic dates you can call up that Tom guy, not me.”

“Why not you?” you asked, settling close next to him on the bed. “Robby, what is it about you that means you can't settle down?”

He considered you, frowning, creases at his eyes. “I don't want to settle down. There's nothing wrong with me.”

You face contorted as you took in everything he said, slowly digesting his words. “I'm not- I'm not saying there's anything wrong with you.”

“Well, that's kinda what it sounds like.” Robby got to his feet.

You followed, stepping in front of him as he made to move by you.

“I'm gonna go now,” he said. Never had your nights ended so abruptly. Maybe when you first started and neither of you knew if it was okay to sleep in each others bed, whether it was sneaking out in the morning or awkward talk. In the blur of it all you started falling asleep with weak libs and sweat on your bodies, you'd wake up, get coffee, get into work.

Robby supposed maybe it was his fault for letting you get too comfortable.

“Robby,” you stopped him, a hand reaching for his chest. Your shirt slipped down your shoulder. He could see the kisses he'd left there, a last memory. “Are you not even willing to try? Just dinner, that's all I ask. I don't ask for anything else.”

Robby chuckled because it was true. He'd been the needy one, the one searching you out at work, offering you the best cases and to lead the traumas. He was thinking with his dick. But he wasn't in the mood to face that then. “Sure you do.”

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

He rose his brows at you, waiting for you to get the point.

“Don't act like I've been leading this whole thing, you know that's been you,” you snapped.

“Yeah, well,” Robby gulped the bitter taste of his words. “Not anymore.”

He walked past you, shoulder brushing yours.

“Robby!” you called out, stopping him at the door.

He glanced back at you but you hadn't even moved, still facing your bedroom wall.

“If you go now you're not coming back.”

Robby looks back now, wished he'd stayed, wished he'd dropped to his knees and asked you to take him to dinner, ask you to heat up whatever it was you had cooked earlier. He wished he'd stayed in bed, promised to talk about it in the morning and mean it.

But he left and like a fool he really believed the next morning it would all have blown over, that by the next night you'd be to lost in each other to remember the argument.

You didn't so much as look at him the next day and when he tried to call or text he found his number blocked.

Robby lost you before he ever really had you.

You were packing up your last box of kitchen stuff, plates wrapped in tea towels and mugs in bubble wrap, when a soft knock at the door woke you from your meaningless task.

Tom was out at some conference for a couple days, a special committee of pedes doctors around the country. He'd asked you to go but as dedicated to your work as you were yourself you didn't. He'd only left a couple hours ago, you'd promise you'd have all the packing done to move into his down by the time you next saw him.

As a joke, you figured, he'd given it an hour then returned.

So you opened the door thinking as much.

Robby stood on the other side, head rising. He was still in his scrubs, the black of them standing out against the airy hallway of your apartment complex. “Hey.”

Two years ago it might have been a usual occurrence to find him at your door, but it died and had never been re-born.

“Robby. Is everything okay?” You thought something really must have been wrong if he was turning up at your door after hardly any contact besides what was needed when working together.

He peered at you, eyes soft with something you'd never seen. “Can I come in?”

You should have made up some excuse about Tom being there. Or just told him no but both seemed to easy to excuse. Maybe Robby knew Tom was away, maybe he wouldn't take no for an answer. Then you'd have to explain to your elderly neighbours why a man that wasn't your fiancé was outside your apartment.

Without saying anything you held the door open for him.

Robby entered just like he did all those times before. It may as well have been like nothing had changed, that two years of patching yourself up hadn't happened.

Closing your door slowly, you faced Robby standing in the middle of your place that hadn't changed, besides the boxes.

“What's happened?” you asked again, standing at the other end of your kitchen.

“Are you moving?”

“Yeah, I'm moving in with Tom. He's got a bigger place so...” you trailed off.

Maybe this was all your fault for inviting in his opinion about your soon to be wedding, about the ring that sat on your hand. The weight and gleam of it was still hard to get used to.

“How long have you been engaged?” he asked, still looking around the front room like he was trying to remember himself in the space he no longer belonged.

“It's new. A couple weeks? We had to get the ring re-sized.”

You watched him nod before finally looking back to you.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“You've asked me that already.”

“I just want to know. Are you?”

The truth was: you weren't sure what happiness really meant. Had you been happy when you were only giving your body to Robby when you wanted him to have everything. But were you happy with Tom? When you fell asleep with him and imagined opening your eyes to Robby instead... was that happiness.

You sighed. “I'm happier than I have been.”

It was as honest as you could get.

“Are you happy?” you asked.

Robby's face broke into a smile that was anything but of joy. The lines of age showed around his grimace and his eyes. He ran his hand down the back of his head. “No. No, not really.”

So that's why he had turned up.

You chuckled. You should have known.

Robby chuckled too. “What? What's so funny?”

“Is that why you're here?” you asked. “You're miserable so you've come to make sure I join in on that?”

“Jesus- no.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Fuck! I don't know!” he snapped.

For a moment you wondered if he'd come here to tell you he'd changed. That he wanted you. That he loved you and always had but he was afraid. You'd already practised his entire speech for him, ready for Robby to just say the words.

Robby's jaw clenched and he looked up at you. “Do you love him?”

“Oh, Jesus...” you uttered, turning your back to continue packing. You taped over a side at least three times in effort to distract yourself from him.

“Do you love him?” he repeated, every word punctured with venom.

“You don't know him,” you said.

“Yeah, and I don't fucking want to.”

You glared at him. He had crept closer than before. “Tom is a good guy.”

There were hints of a smirk gracing Robby's lips.

“As if you ever cared about good.”

“I care about love.”

Robby appeared at your side, his hand close to yours without touching you. It was enough to steal away your attention, glancing at him. “I love you.”

The words were like from some fairy-tale, some old dream of yours. The kind of thing you used to imagine in your head before you fell asleep next to him, leaking him and breathing him in.

You jerked up.

His fingers were steady as they slowly wrapped around your wrist. “I love you.”

You shake your head, looking down at the hold he held in you. “You can't love someone the way you treated me.”

“I know, I know,” he uttered, standing closer to you.

However long you spent circling each other around traumas and patients, however much you enjoyed Tom, there was nothing that could replicate the warmth of Robby's body next to yours.

“The truth is...” his hand slowly wound up your arm. His mouth lowered to your ear, his breath hot. “I can't live without you.”

You remembered the times you cried after he left that night and you were resolved to never let him back. You'd blocked his number and almost threw your phone down the trash to rid temptation. Seeing him in work was a new kind of torture and when he dared ask if you could go to his and talk you couldn't even respond. You just left him standing there, hopefully stewing in regret.

You must have cried for weeks before you agreed to go on another date with Tom.

It all felt like it was yesterday with the way he stood next to your, sending shivers all over your body with the way he moved to hold you.

“Robby... we can't...”

Robby inhaled, taking a deep breath of you. When he let it out, it was shaky. His fingers moved back your hair, exposing your neck. He leant in, not kissing, but mumbling in to you. “Please. Please don't make me live without you.”

You'd thought- when Robby returned to you as you wished he would- he'd come with all these promises of being a better man, of finally taking you to dinner and holding your hand and kissing you sweetly.

Robby wasn't promising anything but what he could always give you.

On your kitchen counter you splayed out your hands and Robby looked to your hands as you did, the sliver of gold with the rock catching your eyes.

Robby shuffled to stand around behind you, cascading his arms over yours. He grabbed your hand and curled his fingers around you till your hands were hidden in his. “I love you.... I love you...”

His hand fisted in your hair and brought you into him without resistance.

You melted into him like wax in sun. You wish you could say you put up a fight but wanting him for longer than you could remember made you weak.

His lips were passion and bruising against yours as his whole body moved to cave around yours. Your arms wound around him, curling over his neck and shoulders as you stretched onto your tiptoes. He pulled at your hair and your neck fell back.

Robby dragged his lips down your skin as if he couldn't be parted from you. His tongue dragged down your neck, drawing in wet circles.

Your own hands were pulling at his shirt, clawing it up.

“Yeah, baby.... yeah...” he mumbled into you.

Your hands couldn't decide where they wanted to settle first, where they'd missed the most. All of him. Everything.

In a drag of hands and pull of hips you and Robby stumbled into your bedroom. The same bed, the same room and the same painted walls as he'd seen last time.

Robby kicked the door closed, stumbling into you again and holding your cheeks hard as he kissed you again.

You pulled off his shirt and threw it behind you, dragging your hands down the curves of his belly and feeling around for every bump and groove of him. You wanted to find any change of his and map it in your mind.

Robby's mouth opened against yours, breathing into you. “You feel me?”

You nodded against him, dropping your tongue into his mouth.

“You miss me?” he asked.

You nodded again.

“Yeah, you did, baby.”

Robby took of your top haphazardly, fumbling with it and catching it on your neck. There was a groan before the two of you laughed.

There was nothing to hold or conceal yourself from him as he lowered his mouth hot to your breast, circling his tongue around your nipple and sucking.

Your head fell back in ecstasy. “Oh my god.”

Robby moaned into you. “That nice, honey? Does that feel good?”

He switched to focus attention on the other while groping your breast.

“Feels good, Robby... so good...”

Your hands ran through his hair, nails scratching over his scalp and dragging down. You felt him shiver and groan into your chest.

He went between the two, licking, sucking and kissing while messaging them in his hands.

Leaving a trail of wetness on your chest his hands snuck into your pants and pulled down, falling to his knees with the motion. Gently, as if he was a lover, he helped you stand out of your pants.

His hands were soft on your calves, running up and down gently as his lips followed, peppering kisses.

Robby was still on his knees, only popping the buttons of his trousers to relive his own need straining. With firm hands he pushed at your hips, setting you down on the edge of your bed. “Lie back, baby, lie back.”

You practically fell down onto the bed, your legs falling open.

“Jus' like that baby, you're so good.”

It took all your strength to stop you withering. He'd not even touched you yet. Not where you needed him. Only his hands messaging the plump of your thighs.

You could feel the darkness of his gaze as he lowered his head between your legs, kissing along your thighs.

“Do you need me?” Robby taunted.

You nodded, pressing your lips together firmly.

His teeth nipped at your skin, close to your cunt. “Use your words.”

You jolted at the bite. “Yes, I- I need you, Robby.”

He chuckled, a low grumble from his throat. “Yeah you do... yeah...”

You felt the warmth of his tongue run up and down you. It was familiar and new all at once. The tingle down your skin and want in your stomach was everything you knew but it had been foreign to you since he left.

“Robby... Robby...” you panted as his tongue ran up and down slow enough it felt like torture.

He made some noise into you, watching you as he slid a middle finger into you.

“Arg! Robby!”

“You're so tight, baby,” he said, tongue flat and circling your clit. “He fuck you as good as I do?”

No, he didn't. Tom was a good guy- you meant that- but there was little passion into how he made love, it was all methodical, a perfect amount of time spent to every part of you with rhythmic moves. You'd missed the fire. The way Robby tossed and turned you around.

His finger curled into you. “Does he?”

“No,” you said quick and frantic. “No, he doesn't Robby, not like you.”

With his finger curling in and out of you Robby licked at your clit, sucking it in his mouth.

Your back arched into him. His hand ran down under you, holding you like that, keeping a feast splayed open for him. “Oh, shit!”

Robby pulled back enough to spit into you before licking all around you. “God, you're so messy, baby,” he uttered into you.

You panted as his mouth made work of you, finger gathering your wetness and spreading you all around. He groaned into you, whining too and making a mess out of your cunt as your gasped, breathless, hands curling into your sheets.

His head shook, his tongue wild.

“Robby! Robby!”

He worked in another finger, stretching you out.

“Robby, I can't- I-”

“You wanna come?” he teased, curling his fingers slowly. “Yeah, you wanna come.”

Letting go had been harder to do with the man who were supposed to marry. You could feel your release tightening.

Robby nodded into you, his nose nudging your clit. Just the way you liked. “I'll have you on my cock, I promise, not letting you go again,” he tutted, eyeing the wetness pooling between your legs. “Come for me, honey... baby, please.”

With a hard suck to your clit you let go, hand reaching for him.

He slurped up your release and found your hand, clutching. Your nails were digging into the back of his hand. He let you, gripping you hold enough to turn your knuckles white together.

When he said he wasn't letting you go, he meant it.

Robby waited till your body had finished in trembles before crawling up your body. He kissed you, feeding the taste of yourself into your mouth, tongue licking up yours. The walls of your bedroom reverberated with moans and groans and the creak of your bed as he shifted around, tugging off his jeans.

Propping himself on his heels he marvelled at you, spreading you out.

You got an eye of his cock, hard, pink, veiny and leaking with want for you. It was better than you remembered.

Robby let you look. Though you know from older times of being together Robby didn't always like when you stared. When you followed the curve of his stomach and eyed the fatness of his cock. It was only when you showed him how much you loved the size of him by riding his thigh, stomach and cock that he ever allowed you time to marvel.

He braced himself over you. “I mean it... I can't live without you.”

You shook your head.

You couldn't either.

Your hand ran up his chest, resting at his shoulder. “I've missed you. Every day... every night.”

His head fell into the crook of your neck and he kissed you sweetly there, just once. “I've missed you.”

“Robby, I love you.”

“I love you.”

Slowly he pushed himself into you, filling you with a slow push. His mouth fell open, gasping at the choke your walls kept on his cock.

“Oh shit... oh fuck... arg...”

Your head fell back on the pillow, arching up into him. “Fuck Robby.”

“Yeah... oh shit... I know.”

With gentle care he pushed in, letting you swallow him up. He braced himself on his forearms over you as you took him all up.

“God, I love you... oh, you're so perfect.”

He moved in you slowly, dragging his cock in and out of your walls.

You pushed him down onto you, kissing him. It turned sloppy quickly, as he picked up the pace.

“I'm not- oh shit- I can't hold it, fuck,” said Robby. His head tilted back, screwing up in effort.

His arm stretched out above you, gripping the headboard tightly. The grooves all but fit into his hand as he slammed in and out of you. The plap of skin on skin drummed with the headboard banging against the wall. Your bodies moved, bouncing on the bed.

“Robby! I'm gonna- I'm gonna-”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he mumbled. “Come with me, come with me, just wait, just wait.”

You held onto his shoulders, hands dragging down his back. You knew it would scratch, leave angry welts but as Robby tensed, groaning, you knew he'd want it. Want more.

“Robby, please,” you begged, gaining his attention. “Please come in me.”

His eyes darkened. “Baby-”

“Please. Please.”

Your leg kicked up and wrapped around his hips, forcing him in deeper.

“Shit! Arg- fuck! I can't- ah fuck!”

As if your bodies understood each other Robby finished inside, painting your walls. You clenched around him, taking him for everything he had while you let go yourself.

Slowly his grip released on the headboard and he laid closer to you.

It was quiet as you both watched each other come down. The idea of him moving, of him getting up and leaving had your body stilling. Had him knowing.

“ Don't-”

He shook his head. “I don't. Not yet. Not yet.”

His lips were wet as he kissed you slow. He didn't push for more, just dragged his lips slow.

Your fingers entwined against the bed, the cold band of your engagement ring cold against your flushed skin.

“I mean it, I love you,” he whispered. “I'll go to dinner, we'll get a bigger place. I'll marry you. Just don't... don't leave me.”

"Go?" You stand up when he wheels himself from the table. "Go where?"

"PTMC. Somebody has to make sure you didn't break your hand." Jack shrugs, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. "You don't want me to look at it– that's fine. Robby can."

You make a noise of outrage, halfway between a guffaw and and a strangled gasp. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, now come on."

"Jack, I can't show up looking like this!"

He tilts his head, peering over his shoulder to look at you. "Like what?" He asks, as though he's not staring at your tits, plump and popping out of the low-cut top of your dress.

You purse your lips, "Looking like I was one right hook away from fucking my boss."

Now that makes him pause. The two of you showing up together would be very much less than ideal. Sure, he could just drop you off and tell you to sort things out, but that'd be a surefire way to not get a second date, and the half-chub Jack has been sporting since you socked that asshole would very, very much like to get a second date.

"Dr. Abbot it is," Jack says. "Sit back down."

Reluctantly, you do. As he pulls his chair up, you down the rest of his scotch and shrug at the pointed look Jack gives you. "What?" You say, presenting your mottled hand, "I'm not the doctor tonight."

Jack grunts and takes you by the wrist. You whine softly as he turns your hand, observing the blood caked on your knuckles. "Move your fingers for me," he says softly. You do. He brushes your fingertips, "Any numbness?"

You shake your head, "No."

Jack puts your hand down, running his thumb over your split knuckles. The first aid kit sits in the corner of his vision, but he hesitates, savoring the feel of your hand in his.

"So, doc," you say, licking your lips. With your hand still in his, you lean closer to Jack. Your mouth hovers over his. "Am I gonna live? Because I have a hot date that I'd like to get back to."

Jack's lips quirk, "Careful sweetheart, don't want your date getting jealous."

"Oh, he won't mind," you kiss the corner of his mouth. "I promise."

"Well then, maybe I won't discharge you just yet," Jack lets go of your hand to grip your waist. "Keep you all to myself."

Companion piece to:

A Fucking Nightmare - Robby’s worst nightmare comes true when his ex-wife shows up as a guest at Dana’s vow renewal ceremony.

Regrets - Robby can't help but think about his regrets after seeing his ex-wife for the first time since he signed the divorce papers.

Unread - Robby turns to Jack when you don't respond to his message.

The Call - Robby takes the plunge and decides to call you, leading to a surprising revelation.

Robby isn’t looking for a wife when Jack first introduces him to his friend The Neurologist. You’re fresh from the Barrow Neurological Institute in Phoenix, a globally recognized facility dedicated to treating sports-related head trauma. And you have a handshake that would make even the most feral businessman wince. It comes from playing in a male dominated field, from having to prove yourself straight from the bat.

“Welcome to the Pitt.” He tells you, clenching his fist to get the feeling back in his fingers. “It’s hell on earth.”

He’s sixteen hours into an extended shift, frazzled, exhausted, and a little pissed that you’re the reason that Jack decided to take the night off. You’re standing in front of him in high waisted trousers and a silk blouse, something that wouldn’t look amiss in the boardroom upstairs, amongst the crowd of medical executives that make his life a living hell.

“You’re still here aren’t you.” You point out in that annoyingly eloquent way of yours. “There’s got to be something special about this place.”

“Maybe I’m just crazy.” He mutters, his palm scrubbing over the nape of his neck. His gaze is already moving past you, to the trauma that’s rolling in through the ambulance bay. “Excuse me.” He pushes past you, snatching up a pair of latex gloves, pulling them over his large hands.

“The three of us are getting drinks tonight.” Jack calls after him, busying himself by scrolling through his phone to check the time of your dinner reservation in order to make sure he can fit the rest of his tour in. “Leave the attitude at the door when you come out to meet us.”

The middle finger appears, and you bark out a laugh as Jack rolls his eyes, guiding you towards the bank of elevators that lead to the rest of the hospital.

He seriously debates fucking off those drinks after his shift. Although he’s still wired with adrenaline he can’t think of a worse way to spend the evening than with one of Gloria’s ‘rock stars’. She’s gathered quite the collection over the years, all with specialisations that in some way impact athletes. He understands that the board is trying to establish themselves in that field because of the private funding it’ll bring in. None of it trickles down though, it simply goes back into those facilities, making them bigger, and shiner to entice even more rich clients.

The problem is Jack’s deliberately chosen a bar that’s on his way home and he’ll look like a complete asshole if he doesn’t show up.

Just one, he promises himself as he pushes the door open with his shoulder. Just one and then you can catch up on the Pirates game.

It’s not just one, and he definitely does not catch up on that Pirates game.

He finds you and Jack at the pool table near the back of the bar, a couple of empty shot glasses alongside a half-drunk pitcher. Your sleeves are rolled up, showing you mean business and you’ve popped a couple of buttons on that shirt giving him a glimpse of that black sports bra underneath the silk.

“She’s hustled me out of fifty bucks so far.” Jack declares handing over his cue. “Try and win it back for me while I get you a drink.”

“I don’t expect big things.” You sigh theatrically as you rub chalk along the top of the cue. “You have just come off a monster shift after all.”

“Oh Vivian.” Robby says lining up his shot and sinking it in one fluid motion. “I’m just getting my second wind. Let me show you what a poor boy from Squirrel Hill can do.”

You are a worthy adversary. The two of you spend the rest of the evening battling it out while Jack watches, recounting stories of the weirdest shit he’s see on the nightshift. Robby thinks that’s the reason he wins that last game, you’re laughing so hard that you misalign your shot, sending the white crashing into a couple of his balls.

“Make sure she gets home safe.” Jack lectures him when the bar kicks you all out. He’s taking an Uber because he’s too unsteady to walk on his prosthesis and you two are heading in the opposite direction because as it turns out you both don’t live too far away.

Robby gives him a salute before the you take off, giggling and falling into each other because you’re more than a little tipsy.

“No, I’m serious, it was crazy.” You inform Robby as you describe one of your patients with Alien Hand Syndrome. “I’m shaking one hand, and the other is literally undressing him, unfastening the buttons, undoing the belt. He had no idea until his pants fell down.”

Robby snorts, he can’t help it. The sound makes you laugh, which tips him over the edge until the two of you are at the steps of your apartment building with tears rolling down your cheeks desperately trying to catch your breath.

“I like you Robinavitch.” You tell him, reaching up to wipe the salt from his cheeks with your fingertips. That sensation, it’s the first tenderness he’s felt in a long time. He finds himself leaning into it, his lips brushing over your pulse point as the pads of your fingers follow a trail of freckles that are spattered across his cheek. “We may have gotten off to a rocky start, but it turns out you aren’t a complete asshole after all.”

“I like you too Viv.” He smiles, his hands coming to rest on your hips, steadying you as you teeter on the step above him. Your hands squeeze shoulders as you linger on the edge. Your body presses against his, soft curves against his sharp edges. It feels like the perfect fit, the two of you slotting together like missing pieces from a puzzle he didn’t know he was putting together. “I thought you had a stick shoved so far up your ass you didn’t need a broomstick but you’re actually a lot of fun.”

“It’s a common misconception.” You inform him, his gravelly laugh deeper this time, pulling you back into his orbit. Your gaze slips down to his mouth, to how inviting it is underneath the coarse hair of his beard. “You are very much forgiven.”

His breath catches when you kiss him. It’s a soft, gentle sweep of the lips but it’s like a key fitting into the lock, something clicks and everything he’s kept buried down deep rushes to the surface in a maelstrom of desire and passion.

He doesn’t remember how he ends up in your apartment, that part comes in flashes. Silk slipping from your skin in the hall, his mouth dragging over your bare navel as he sinks to his knees on the plush carpet, his tongue lapping at your clit as you bury your hands in his hair, climaxing right there against some modernist painting he doesn’t give a fuck about.

“I promise I don’t make a habit of sleeping with my coworkers.” You tell him in the aftermath, the sheets sticking to his back as he lays in your bed with his arm thrown up over his head and the light of daybreak caressing his skin through the open curtain.

“Neither do I.” He tells you, tilting his head so he can see the profile of your features. He’s looking for regret, for some sign that this was a mistake but to his surprise you roll onto your stomach, your mouth capturing his once more. Your tongue traces over the seam of his lips and he moans, his hand tangling in your hair as it starts all over again, his cock throbbing even though he’s had you once already tonight.

It goes on like that until the late hours of the morning, until there’s beard rash over every inch of your skin and his dick is uncomfortably chafed.

“I knew you two would hit it off.” Jack tells him the next day when Robby comes in to relieve him from his shift. His entire body aches but in a good way, the way that comes with fucking a beautiful woman on a red Peruvian rug because you fell off the couch while making out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He mutters, scrubbing his hand across his tired features.

“You smell like jasmine shower gel.” Jack points out, his nose twitching for effect. “And you look more relaxed than I’ve seen you in years.”

Robby rolls his eyes skyward. He didn’t expect Jack to be such a bloodhound. He’d fucked you in the shower that morning, barely making it home in time to grab a change of clothes before his shift.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Robby warns him, unzipping his hoodie to reveal his Robert 's Bradley’s Blackwater Surprise t-shirt. “It was probably a one-night thing.”

Or rather a twenty-four-hour sex marathon with old movies and take out in the middle but… he doesn’t want to tell Jack that, he doesn’t want to hope that this might actually be something real.

“If you say so.” Jack remarks with that shit eating grin of his as he hands over his tablet. “Viv’s a great person so just do me a favour and don’t fuck it up.”

Like My Work? - Tip your friendly fan fic writer here!

“i’m so tired. i’m tired of men, i’m tired of this life, i’m tired of being fucking sick!” she sat up and looked for the kleenex tissue box she kept on her night stand.

“what happened, eshgham?”

“i don’t even know where to begin. robby, the attending i’m covering for, was a fucking asshole the whole day. did everything he could to not have me working side by side with him, was completely rude when i tried to join the cases he was working on and omitted important staff related information from me!” she took a deep breath. “i had to find out, through gossiping, that the R4 returning today left for a ten month rehab stint because an R2 snitched him out, and, pay close attention to this, she snitched him out because she found out he was stealing benzos from patients. robby never bothered telling me that! i literally found out because i saw the two fighting in a hallway.

you grimaced. “how old is he? robby, i mean.”

she shrugs. “i don’t know. fifty, fifty something.”

“sounds like an “old man who is terrified of not being useful and losing his place” case. he just hoards everything to himself, like a dragon. very unhealthy.”

baran laughed for the first time of the night, but it was short lived. “yeah.”

“and…” you led the way. she knew exactly where you wanted her to get, the reason for her phone call, the reason why you had to pick her up.

“i had two seizures today. i don’t know what could have triggered them, haven’t had one in ages, you know that. maybe lack of sleep, or stress because of the new job, i don’t know!” she started to get agitated, and you squeezed her thigh, soothing her. “one while assessing a month old baby that someone abandoned in triage, the other during an asthma case on a teenager. i called my neurologist and he didn’t pick up nor return my call, so i asked robby for an opinion–“

“oh no.” you interrupted her, unwillingly.

“yeah.” she gave you a humourless laugh. “he’s an asshole but he’s a great physician. anyway, he asked me a bunch of questions, but things escalated, we started a screaming match and he went on and on telling me how i’m not fit to be in the ED and that he wanted me to tell the board, and that he couldn’t trust me to lead the team.” baran started crying again and you held her in your arms. “i’m so tired, asalam. and the worst thing is that i know he’s not entirely wrong.”

you sighed. “baran, eshgham, look at me.” she did and you wiped her tears before continuing. “i don’t know robby. i want to believe he’s great at what he does as he is in the position he is in, but he did handle this whole situation very poorly.” you stop and caress her face, trying to choose your words carefully. “i understand why he has his qualms about you being alone in the department. he’s a fucking idiot who lacks communication skills and i’ll punch him the day i meet him,” baran laughed again, this time with more feeling to it, “but like you said, he’s not entirely wrong, it can get dangerous for the patient and for you. so you and i are going to dr. fairgraves’ office first thing monday morning, and we are going to see the best way to tackle this. you are amazing, baran, a fucking incredible doctor and a kick ass chief attending. we are getting through this, okay?”

“okay.” she nodded. “i love you.”

you kissed her lips. “i love you too, eshgham.”

eshgham - my love

asalam - my honey

something happened. something bad happened. 

jack knew about the break up, of course he did. as usual, jack had to corner robby after dana complained that the chief attending was being erratic the whole shift, and robby eventually spilled out about it, how carter was visiting and how he, on a whim, ended up breaking up with her because of his insecurities. 

jack tries to pry on, approaches robby slowly, asks him about his night, but his friendly is more closed off than ever, just murmurs something about moving on with rounds, gathering the team while jack looks at him from afar with worried eyes. 

once jack is back at the hub, he pulls dana aside to tell her about his worries, pleading with her to get him if anything happens. 

jack rises from his much needed nap around 09a.m. whitaker and trinity stop him to ask him his opinion on some cases, but the sight of robby talking to caleb has jack working on autopilot, answering the kids' questions without actually paying attention to them. 

jack excuses himself the moment he sees robby walking away from caleb, and he jogs his way to his best friend, limb complaining about how long it has been attached to its prosthesis. 

“talking would be good to you, brother.” jack says when they are far from the commotion of the ED. 

robby shakes his head and jack hears the annoyed sigh. without even bothering to look back at his friend, robby says “i have nothing to talk about, jack.” before walking away. 

the senior makes his way back to the hub, seeking dana, only to find her spewing orders to the other nurses. when she is finally free, he tells her what just happened and asks if she knows what is going on. 

dana’s face changes with worry, eyes dart around seeking for robby, finding him talking to mel about a trauma. she turns back to jack and exhales. “she went out for drinks with that john guy from chicago, left around eight all dolled up.” dana stops and looks around, getting closer to jack as if she was about to tell him a government secret. “robby left with noelle from cases a few minutes later.”

jack grimaces. “do you think they bumped into each other?”

“it’s possible.” dana shrugs. 

“shit.”

the day goes by with robby’s façade slowly shattering. jack watched from afar, catching a rude comment here, an annoyed answer there and robby’s voice slowly rising the more stressed he got. 

05p.m. rolls around and robby is at his wit’s end, beelining to the elevator. jack, the guard dog that he is, sees where his friend is going, and follows him. 

he finds robby staring at the skyline on the good side of the railing. his shoulders are slumped, and jack has the suspicion that robby had been crying. 

“i fucked up, brother.” robby says without turning around. after so many years of friendship and one too many trips to the roof, he can recognise jack’s presence without one word being muttered. 

“what did you do?”

robby finally tells jack everything that happened last night. from making sure she had left for her date with carter, to leaving with noelle for drinks at the same bar, to him making sure she saw the two of them together and him keeping tabs on her, to seeing her making out with her ex and leaving with him. what happened last night just spills out of robby’s lips like a sinful confession. 

jack shakes his head as the words leave robby’s lips, feeling astonished by his friend’s new low. jack exhales, his mind going a million miles per hour with him trying to decide how to tackle this. 

“say something.” robby asks, voice small with worry and shame. 

“brother, get. help. that girl loved you. do you have any idea of how many times i walked in on her talking to mira about you? how many times i’ve found her crying because of some bullshit you pulled trying to keep her away when things got too real? i’m sorry, if anything, she is the one who should’ve broken up with you sooner, after everything you put her through.” jack stops, runs a hand over his stubble to calm down a bit. robby gives him a grimaced look, and before he can say anything, jack begins again. “i know you find it hard to believe, but you’re a good man, mike, and you deserve a good– a great person like her by your side, but you gotta learn how to accept that, man.” jack grabs robby by his shoulders, squeezing the meat there when the tears started flowing from his friend’s eyes. “she’s great for you, everyone noticed how you became a better man after you got together, but there’s only so much she can do. she can’t fight your demons for you.”

robby gives jack a humourless laugh. “i fucked up big time, didn’t i?”

“you did.” jack takes a beat. “wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t want to come back to you.”

“are you waiting for someone?” carter asks her. she gives him a puzzled look. 

“no?” there is a knock on the door again, a bit stronger this time. “wait, what time is it?”

john wiggles his wrist and looks at his watch. “seven forty eight.”

“fuck!” she jumps out of the bed, going around her bedroom looking for carter’s clothes and throwing it to him. “it’s the girls. forgot they were coming. get dressed!”

john laughs as he gets out of the bed and pulling his boxer briefs on. “oooh, girl talk.”

she squints his eyes at him playfully. “shut up–“ the knocks turned into banging, and she is going to kill trinity for this. “i’m coming!”

she is tying the strings of her sweat shorts when john touches her elbow, pulling her closer to him. “you ok?”

“mhm.” she nods. 

he kisses her. nothing too extravagant, but enough to leave her breathless. “i’m going back to the hotel, leave you guys to it, alright?”

she opens the door to find victoria, samira and trinity waiting for her with expecting faces. 

“did you forget about us?” trinity says, slightly pushing her aside to get into her apartment. 

victoria hugs her and says she missed her on the shift today. samira stops, accesses her friend’s face, searching for something the gives away how she is feeling. “how are you feeling?”

“i’m alright.” she smiles, trying to reassure her friend. “c’mon, let’s get inside.”

when they eventually reached the living room, the scene they were met with was rather funny: john, looking very sheepish while victoria gawks at him and trinity stares at the older man like she was about to burst a forehead vein. samira spins her head around, with an incredulous look on her face. she chooses to ignore them. “girls, this is john.” she points at him and carter smiles and waves at them. “john, this is trinity, victoria and samira. we work together.”

“and you two?” trinity asks, voice laced with curiosity and maliciousness. 

john shoots her a smirk, knowing exactly where she wants to get, but not giving in. “we are friends, we’ve worked together and we’ve dated in the past.”

“and now?” victoria was the one inquiring with the same maliciousness as trinity. 

john snorts. “now we’re seeing where this goes.” he gives a single clap. “well, i think you ladies have a lot of catching up to do, so i’m gonna go.” he turns to her. “honey, could you open the door for me?”

she takes carter to the door with his hand on her lower back. she opens the door, closing it behind her to give them both a bit of privacy. “i’m sorry, i know they can be a lot. especially trin.”

“don’t be, i like knowing you have people taking care of you here. my flight is early tomorrow morning.”

“yeah… yeah. tell me when you arrive in chicago.”

“i will.” john kisses her. “we’ll keep in touch.”

“bye, bug.”

“bye, pretty.”

she only comes inside after the elevator’s door closes. 

“are you fucking serious?” trinity welcomes her back to the living room. 

“what?” 

“he looks exactly like robby, except he has longer hair and a fuller beard.” trin adds. 

“he’s like, a hot version of robby.” vic says, giggling.

she looks at samira expectantly, motioning with her hand for her friend to go on. 

“oh please, i have jack. you know i don’t go there. but they do look like a copy and paste of each other. what were you thinking?”

she frowns. “i don’t exactly go around looking for people that looks like john, you know? it just happened.”

“fine, are you going to spill everything or what?” trinity cut straight to the chase. 

“right.” 

she sits down after ordering them some pizzas and opening a bottle of wine, and starts from the beginning. from getting john’s message, to robby acting weird after meeting him and breaking up with her out of nowhere for things that happened in his head only. 

it is when it gets to what happened the previous night that things started to get to her. her voice starts to tremble, breathing more laboured, and when she notices, the tears were already roaming freely. it wasn’t about robby breaking up with her per se, she knew it was doomed to happen eventually, and didn’t expect their relationship (if what they had could be called that) to last this long, but it was about how he acted, about how he weaponised her own feelings against her.

deep inside, she knew robby probably didn’t even realise what he was doing, how his demons spoke louder and made him act on auto-pilot, but she also knew that her empathy had to have limits, when those limits began when his actions started hurting her. 

“he did what?” victoria asks, her big brown eyes so wide they looked like they would pop out of her head. 

“that’s a low i didn’t expect from robby.” trinity mutters, shaking her head. 

“how are you feeling?” samira squeezes her thigh. 

“i don’t know.” she sighs. “i’m feeling everything and nothing at once. in one hand i’m relieved that i don’t have to constantly wonder what is going to be the tipping point. in the other hand…” she exhales again and starts playing with a loose thread on her sweatshorts. “i love robby, and this is going to sound crazy but i’m more hurt about him doing what he did than him breaking up with me. i can handle a break up, you know?” she turns to trinity and feels the tears growing back again. “i can! but what he did with noelle? going on a date with her to a place he knew i’d be, for him to make sure i’d see them together when he was supposed to be there with me? that’s so fucked up.”

the tears take over again and samira engulfs her in a hug, softly caressing her scalp. 

“so… you fucked john, huh?” trinity breaks the silence after a while, getting a wet laugh out of her. 

“was it good?” vic wonders.  

she nods. “it was great, even better than i remember it being when we were together.”

“are you two going to be a thing now that he’s moving here?” samira asks and she can feel the vibration of her chest against her ear. 

“honestly? i don’t know. he said he still loves me and i realised i still have feelings for him back on that meet up at the coffee shop, but i told him i can’t really choose anything right now and that i’d be willing to see how things go once he’s moved to the city. i really need some time for myself.”

“and when is he moving?” trinity asks. 

“in a month.”

morning came uneventful with the exception of the light buzz of the bottles of wine opened and the light headache of crying more than her brain could deal with. 

talking to the girls had been nice, it helped her put things into perspective, to understand her feelings better and get some light on how she should navigate things now. 

she had never been more thankful for jack’s workaholic tendencies. he had asked her to change shifts with him a few days ago, wanting to pile up more hours for his trip with samira, as if the man already doesn’t have countless extra hours in his hour-bank account. she was considering what to do with her life until tomorrow night – maybe go on a museum tour and try out that new french restaurant that opened up by the allegheny – when a message came in. 

mikey 💕: Hi. How are you doing? I know you probably don’t even want to see my face right now but I really want to talk to you. Would you be willing to meet me at Big Jim’s at 8?

mikey 💕: I will understand if you don’t.

she read and reread the messages until the words became a scrambled blur to her eyes. she considered saying no, anxiety creeping in and telling her things would only get worse. her fingers hover the keyboard, and with half a mind of their own, they simply reply with “ok.”

she now sits down to tie her converse’s shoelaces. she didn’t feel like dressing up. one, because big jim’s is a hole in the wall, that serves the best eggplant parm she has ever had, that her and michael usually went when they were both too tired to think and just wanted comfort and good food, and two, because michael didn’t deserve it. 

she is a big believer of wearing a good revenge dress when it comes to these encounters, but she is beyond tired now. so a pair of wide leg denim, a black tee and converses will suffice. 

robby is already sitting down on their usual corner when she arrives. he looks worse for wear, dark circles around his eyes that only accentuated his tiredness, his beard is longer than he usually lets it get and his hair has seen better days. 

“hey.” he greets her, tries to get up to awkwardly hug her, but she ignores it and sits down. 

“hey.”

“i, umm– already ordered you usual, if that’s alright.” robby tells and she nods. her usual is the eggplant hoagie and with the antipasto salad and coke, straight from the tap. she joked, always saying that she felt like an old italian man eating it, and robby always added that she should be cast in a sopranos revival. 

the food didn’t take long to arrive and michael watched her take a bite as he considered his words. 

“i’m sorry.” he began and she looked at him, eyes void of emotion. “i’m sorry i hurt you, i’m sorry i was an idiot from the beginning. i wish i could come here and tell you i don’t know why i did what i did, but i’d be lying. i know exactly why i acted that way.” robby takes a deep breath, shakes his head as if the motion will make the words less hurtful. “when i saw john… something inside of me snapped. i saw the way he looked at you, the glint in his eyes, the admiration. he looked at you like you had once shared something beautiful before and that that love would always bind you together. then i realised how we both looked alike and i freaked out. i kept wondering if you were with me because you missed him or because you were somehow expecting me to fill in some shoes i don’t even know existed. all of that mixed with jealousy and fear of losing you wasn’t a good combination.”

“so your best shot was breaking up with me and rubbing noelle on my face?” she says nonchalantly. 

robby grimaces. “it was very stupid of me. and i wanted to make you feel as jealous as i was.”

“it was stupid. and it didn’t make me feel jealous, if anything, you made me feel nauseous and disgusted.”

he nods. “right.” 

she sighs and takes a sip of her coke. grabs the dirty napkin she just used, fumbling with it to have something to do with her hands. “i know that most of this, if not all of this happened almost unconsciously to you. i know how shitty your brain is to you, mike. but as much as i love you, there’s only so much i can take.”

“i know. i know, honey.” he nods fast, face red as he tries to suppress his emotions. “and i don’t expect you to forgive me or come back running to my arms, but i wanted to apologise. you more than anyone deserves it and some sort of explanation.”

“thank you.”

he gives her a court nod and they resume to eating in silence. 

she has finished eating, is drinking the last of her coke when robby starts speaking again. “i’m going on a sabbatical starting next week, three months or so, i’m just waiting for jack to come back from new york to leave.” he takes a sip of his dr. pepper and continues. “i also talked to caleb, he recommended me a therapist friend of his and she does her sessions through zoom so i can do it while i’m away.”

“that’s great, mike. you need it.” she frowns and chuckles when she realises how it sounded. “the vacation, i mean. well, therapy too.” she shrugs. 

robby laughs and looks at her with fond eyes. “i love you.” he says, minutely. it’s soft, nothing more of a statement of what they once shared. 

“i love you too. sad it had to end this way.”