takes one to know one

Pictures of him sucking Jack’s dick, face covered in cum, bent over, holding himself open, leaking Jack’s cum, eyes red from the flash but still clearly fucked brainless. Every position they did, Jack has a photo of it.

Developed photos. Jack remained a member of the University’s photography club all the way through med school, solely so he could use the darkroom for personal use.

The riskiest (and stupidest) thing Jack ever did was sneak a couple of his favorites onto base with him so he could jerk off to them.

Over the years, they’ve slowly stopped taking dirty pictures, save for a few through text. Jack is especially proud of the time he got Robby to send him a photo of his ass while he was on shift. It’s blurry and at an awkward angle since Robby can’t see his own backside without the help of a mirror, but Jack cherishes it. He got off immediately after he received it and sent Robby a picture of the mess he made as a token of his appreciation.

One day, while digging through their closet, Jack finds the haphazard album they’d created all those years ago and excitedly shows Robby, who laughs and says, “Thank God we took pictures then. Imagine now.”

Jack hates Robby’s self-deprecating humor, but he loves his ideas. Yes, Jack can imagine it now. “Let me take some photos tonight.”

Robby is reluctant, but agrees.

It was never really gonna be the one night; Jack spends the next few months recreating his favorites. Including one that’s Robby’s beautiful nude body covered in hickeys. (For that, Jack pulls out the blindfold and handcuffs so Robby doesn’t see him referencing the photo)

Once Jack has a proper collection of his husband looking as delicious as ever, he prints them out and attaches them around the frame of their bedroom mirror.

When Robby sees them, he blooms a radiant shade of red. But that’s just the beginning.

Jack fucks him in front of the mirror and makes him look at every version of himself while Jack sings his praises and puts that pretty, brainless look on Robby’s face.

Trust, at some point i’ll draw actual p0rn… but for now have fun with this one

Puppy Jack being soooooooooo excited to make his boy feel good that he knows he would have come so fast without Dennis’s help

Puppy Jack turning into a whiny wet mess, not even saying words anymore, just making noise (so much noise) (Dennis mentioned one time that he loves to listen to Jack whimper, and Jack, being the Good Boy he is, has never forgotten that)

Dennis comes 7 times before he lets Jack finish, and Jack would be disappointed he didn’t achieve a higher number if he wasn’t borderline passing out from endorphins and exhaustion

They cuddle on the couch afterward for hours, Dennis making contact with as much of Jack as he possibly can and whispering an endless fountain of praise for his perfect puppy

Jack has never felt so safe or so loved in his entire life

jack didn't call robby "brother" because he sees him as his brother. It's just the military man in him that is used to referring the guys close to him as brother. the connotations of what it means when jack call his other soldiers "brother" and robby are NOT the same.

And of course there's the fall of Andrea Fanti in that flashback episode of DOC S3.

And to me, there's nothing more heartbreaking than seeing a truly kind and empathic person - in all cases here, doctors, who've made it their *jobs* in life to help others - breaking and losing that spark.

At a certain point, some degree of emotional shutdown is not cruelty so much as survival. Burnout is recognised by exhaustion and cynicism or psychological distancing from work, and trauma-related stress can involve feeling detached or emotionally numb. In other words, losing easy access to empathy is not some bizarre moral failure. It is often a sign that a person has been carrying too much, for too long.

I’ve seen people say that The Pitt is unrealistic because it piles everything healthcare can throw at someone into one day. But sometimes that is what the job is. There were shifts where I saw so many awful things that I learned very quickly not to describe them casually to people outside healthcare, because you would see the horror on their faces immediately. And the truly brutal part is that those were not once-in-a-career nightmare days. I can think of dozens of them. Then you go home, sleep if you can, and come back to do it again.

Rabbot time travel au // E // Use of the F-slur // Jack is 50 Robby is 22 and Jack is 50 and Robby is 52 // nerdy little bubbe’s boy robby //

9.04am. Jack's face hits his pillow. His back aches. His leg aches. His temples behind his eyes ache. With no effort at all, he slips into unconsciousness.  4.27 pm. Jack blinks awake to his face pressed up against a matted foisty carpet. His back aches. His leg aches. His temples behind his eyes still ache. 

He refuses to even kiss him, not because he wants to punish Dennis, but because he’s teaching him patience. And it’s only when he finally gets tired of the rhythmic clenching of Dennis’s cunt (and all the headache inducing emails— a majority of them from Gloria) does he shut the laptop, lean back slightly in his chair, plant his feet, and buck up into the younger man who lets out the most pathetic choked noise, followed by a keening sound that will surely get a complaint from the neighbors.

The sex is rough, Robby lifting him slowly with surprising strength, then slamming him down til the head of his cock bullies Dennis’s cervix, forcing breathy ‘Oh god!’s and ‘please!please!please!’ out of him while tears stream down his cheeks and his pussy makes the most embarrassing squelching sounds known to man.

The familiar heat licks all throughout his body and when the buildup crests into a mind-numbing orgasm, his legs all but give out entirely as Robby continues his assault, fucking him rough and rubbing Dennis’s t-dick in tight, sloppy circles, with every intention of wringing out another one. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Be a good boy for me.’ ‘I know, I know. My best boy. Doing so well for me. Fuck!’

And when Robby cums in his boy, Dennis’s sobs turn violent from overstimulation and his release mixes with Robby’s, dripping from where they’re connected.

yes, he was hungry. he’d been having to ration strictly this week. the food pantry on campus hadn’t had its thanksgiving pity bump.

but he was starving for air. he’d been wearing this binder too long, and he felt like he couldn’t get a full breath. suffocating on his own had become his normal.

he was starving for touch. it had been so long since he’d been hugged. robby had been touching his neck and shoulders, but going up to the eighth floor every night after his shifts seemed to wash those away, even if he hadn’t had a real shower in who knows how long. (dennis remembered. it was last thursday when he snuck in behind someone at the campus gym. that had been five days ago.)

dennis couldn’t afford tape. he couldn’t afford a nicer binder. he couldn’t even afford fucking food that wasn’t charity. dennis was starving.

then robby found him.

he just…appeared. appeared in the doorway of the dilapidated wing and took dennis’s burdens as his own. opened his home to this stray with an incomprehensible past.

and dennis was no longer hungry. robby fed him. and just kept feeding him. he made dennis’s dinners and packed his lunches and had him drink a gross meal replacement drink for breakfast when he said real food made him nauseous that early.

dennis didn’t even know men like robby knew what transtape was, but it was there one day at the foot of his bed. (dennis had a bed now! with sheets that were clean!) robby had put it on a subscription. dennis always had some. his ribs didn’t feel like they were poking his lungs anymore.

and he touched dennis. not in a bad, dirty way. in a way that made dennis feel warm and held. he let dennis lean on him when he was tired and brought dennis into his chest when he’d had a hard day.