Natendo-art

E.R. 3x01: “Dr. Carter, I Presume”

E.R. 3x01: “Dr. Carter, I Presume”

Bonus: quotes my friends, and I have said

Their dorm is really one big room. The sorry excuse of a kitchen is at the entrance, and off to the side are their beds, divided by a wall that doesn't touch the ceiling.

It makes getting any privacy an impossible task.

“I think she’s the one,” Robby would say. And a month and a half later, “it’s not working out.” A decade ago, before Janey, Robby would add, “and I don’t know why,” but after Janey, he started saying, “it’s my fault. You know the one linking factor in all these breakup? Me.” Robby’s smile was sickly, and it broke Jack’s heart.

Once, in a fit of brave drunkenness, he’d replied flippantly, flirtatiously, “that’s because you haven’t dated me yet.”

Robby laughed and clapped him on the knee.

His heart had been bruised for a long, long time.

And afterwards? Well, Jack tried to move on. Get on the apps, message some people, maybe schedule a date or two. That was, until he mentioned a date to Robby, and Robby, well. He acted like Robby.

Robby had gotten used to it, to Jack being single. After his wife had died, Jack took time to mourn, and Robby stepped up to become his default person. Emergency contact? You got it. Ride to the airport? Of course. Need to sit in silence after a shift with someone else in the room? Hell, Robby could use that too.

Jack had always been Robby’s default person, so it’s not like that was a hardship. He was just returning the favor. Even while Robby was with Janey, he never switched his emergency contact away from Jack Abbot, though he’d gotten close.

Robby didn’t date to find a new default person, was the thing. He couldn’t give a reason why, exactly, he tried anymore. He suspected it was to fill that hole in his heart, the one burrowed into the core of him when he was eight. Maybe that’s why he flitted from person to person, looking for someone willing to make him whole. And when each relationship failed, it wasn’t the other person’s fault. It was Robby’s. He was trying to heal something that was terminal.

“That’s because you haven’t dated me yet,” Jack had joked. And Robby laughed, because that’s how you respond to jokes like that, but those words burrowed into him, a twin line he didn’t dare look at too hard.

Robby shouldn’t have been surprised when Jack told him he couldn’t get a beer on Friday because he had a date. But Robby had never been good at doing what he should do in relationships, so he felt like he’d been decked.

“A date?” He squeaked. He cleared his throat. “With, uh, with who?”

“Someone from an app,” Jack said evasively.

Robby’s mind stuttered through a billion questions he desperately wanted the answer to, and his tongue decided to say the one he didn’t honestly care about. “Is she hot?”

Jack rolled his eyes at Robby and walked away.

Robby spent the whole week fishing as subtly as he could, which wasn’t subtle at all.

“Why are you so obsessed with this, Robby? Let the man go on his date.” Dana had spent the week trying to talk sense into him. It hadn’t been working.

“He just won’t tell me anything about her,” Robby complained.

“It’s a first date. His first since his wife’s death. Maybe he doesn’t want to make it bigger than it is.”

“But it is a big deal,” Robby argued.

“How many first dates have you gone on in the past five years?” Dana rebutted. “Has Jack ever behaved this way?”

“No,” Robby moped.

“Well then, let it be.”

“But—“

Dana cut him off. “If it bothers you so much, why don’t you ask him on a date?” She let out a sharp exhale. “You’re as bad as my daughter when she was a teenager,” she muttered.

“I don’t—“

“You do, Robby. You really, really do.” Dana tapped her pen on the clipboard and started to walk away.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Robby called after her. She waved him away over her shoulder.

Friday began like a readied guillotine, and Jack wound up popping in for a few hours to help out.

“What’s going on, brother? You keep giving me side eye.” Jack leaned on the counter next to Robby and pressed their shoulders together. “Don’t tell me it’s about tonight.” He had a teasing tone, the bastard.

“I was wondering…” he trailed off. Dana caught his eye and raised her eyebrows before she made a very distinct 180 turn and walked away.

“Wondering… what?”

Robby shook his head. “If you maybe wanted to go on a date.” He didn’t dare look at Jack, but there was no immediate response. Then the silence grew longer. Robby would worry Jack had left except their upper arms were still pressed together. “With me,” he added, in case it was unclear.

Jack chuckled, which wasn’t the most promising response. Robby leaned away from him, but Jack’s shoulder followed, maintaining the pressure.

“I’d love to, Robby.” Robby let out a huge sigh of relief. “How about tonight?”

Robby looked sideways at him. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“I canceled this morning.” Jack said cheerfully. “My evening has opened up. It’s got a hole the size and shape of Michael Robinavitch, if you’re willing to fill it.”

“But—”

“I’ll pick you up? 8 o’clock?” Jack clapped his shoulder and walked away with a bounce to his step.

Experienced Jack who wants him so bad and inexperienced Robby who finds out he's a bottom slut 😋

Nothing he and Jack had done up to this point was new to Robby. He has plenty of experience making out and sneakily sliding his hands under the clothes of the women he's been with, but tonight they're breaching new territory.

Robby's jeans are long gone. Discarded to the other side of the room as if Jack had been personally offended by them, and now he lies on the mattress with only his thin cotton boxers containing him.

"You've really never been fucked before?" Jack asks. His voice is gruff and needy, partially muffled by his refusal to take his lips off Robby's bulge.

They do this every time. Jack loves the confirmation that no other man has ever kissed, groped, or fucked Robby. "No."

"You're gonna love it."

Robby gulps. "We'll see."

Jack looks up at him with black eyes. "You're gonna love it," he insists. "I'm going to make sure of it."

Robby focuses on keeping his breathing normal while Jack peels away his last layer of dignity. He sucks in a sharp breath as Jack takes his dick in his mouth.

This is another thing he's experienced with. It's great, as always, but there is something particularly enticing about Jack doing it. Robby's noticed that about most things, though. Simple things Robby has been doing since his teenage years make Robby's head fuzzy when Jack is the one he's doing it with. His usual shallow panting and low groans are replaced with wanton moans that he bites his lip to suppress.

A wet finger traces around the outside of his rim. That's new. Robby was expecting it, but his guard is down enough for a hard gasp to break from him. He grits his teeth to keep himself together.

Jack's cheeks hollow, and he lowers further down Robby's length as he pushes his finger inside. This time, Robby has to clasp a hand over his mouth.

When he finally composes himself enough to look back down, the hunger in Jack's eyes has grown. He pulls off with a smug grin.

"Enjoying yourself."

There's no way Robby could talk without embarrassing himself, so he settles for nodding.

"Knew you would," Jack says. He adds a second finger. "We're just getting started."

Robby's hand flies back to his mouth, but this time Jack catches it.

"Nuh, uh." He smirks. "You're going to let me hear you."

He curls his fingers as he says it. Electricity shoots up Robby's spine.

"Jack!"

"That's it, baby. Nice and loud."

He picks up the pace. Hammering his fingers against Robby's prostate with practiced precision. If Robby could think, he'd be jealous of the people who have had this before, but in his current state all he can do is babble and beg.

"Jack! Jack, please. Please, please. I need— I need—"

He doesn't know what he needs or what he's asking for. He doesn't even know where all this talking is coming from. Never before has Robby been someone who made noise. A few low breaths and occasionally a rumbling moan during his orgasm, but never anything close to this. It's as if Jack forces a new sound out with each brush of his fingers.

Then they're gone. A new noise erupts from Robby. A pathetic cry that continues into a desperate whine.

Jack shushes him, leaning close, hot breath tickling Robby's ear. "Getting myself ready for you, baby. Don't worry."

The first breach of Jack's tip puts stars in Robby's eyes. He's never felt such bliss outside of an orgasm before; he's not sure how he hasn't cum already. The coil in his guy is wound tighter than it ever has been before.

"That good? Can I give you more?"

Robby nods clumsily. More begging pours out of him, and it's rewarded with a hot kiss on his neck.

Jack breaches him inch by inch, and everything Robby's ever heard about sex is starting to make sense. Intimacy has never been this intense before; he feels truly connected to Jack even as he becomes more disconnected from his body. Floating above himself as he's stretched full, hole clenching to bring Jack impossibly deeper.

"I'm gonna— I'm gonna move now," Jack pants.

Robby's legs cross over Jack's back; his hands gripping at strong shoulders. "Please."

That's all it takes. Jack pounds into him relentlessly. Egged on by Robby's desperate calls and the harsh scrape of his nails.

Robby's eyes roll back. His heavy dick bounces between the two of them, leaking steadily over their abdomens as Jack fucks him.

"That's it," Jack says. "Good boy. Taking it so well. So fucking perfect."

Robby can barely hear him over his own cries, but the words encourage the heat in his stomach.

The tip of Jack's cock drags rhythmically over his prostate, and the accompanying lighting that runs through Robby builds and builds until it boils over and Robby spills between them with a broken moan.

Jack keeps his pace and offers more praises as Robby cums completely untouched. Even after Robby's tired dick lies limp on his stomach, Jack keeps it up, sending a new type of pleasure through Robby that's almost too much, but he isn't willing to lose.

The eventual hot flood of Jack filling him makes Robby want to sing and cry, but all he can manage is another pitiful whimper. His throat is raw, and his eyes are heavy.

Jack pulls out, and Robby revels in the feeling of his hole winking, desperate to keep Jack's cum inside him.

"Knew you'd like it," Jack whispers.

"Uh, huh." Robby doesn't know how Jack can speak; Robby can't even think.

"That's just the beginning, baby," he promises. "There's a lot more where that came from."

One night he’s doing his show, a very popular segment where he gives people “check ups” in the audience, when his next “patient” is an all too familiar collection of freckles and grey curls.

“Hey, brother,” Jack says. Even in the club’s low light, Robby can see his eyes are dark. “You do private rooms?”

Yeah, here's the thing; when people worry about you, it makes me think that I should be worried about you, and I don't like worrying about things.

Noah Wyle at the All Star Celebrity Baseball Game at Yankee Stadium