Robby had always made assumptions about the relationship between Dennis and his family. Mostly based on the way Dennis had imprinted on him when he first started at the Pitt, he assumed their relationship was strained. Especially the one with his dad.
But once they started dating Dennis talked more about his family and Robby realised he loved them a lot. He always talked about his mum’s cooking and how she’d filled their home with love. He talked about how his brothers were loud and rowdy but always fiercely protective of their youngest brother. And his dad? Robby quickly found out that Dennis adored his dad, the man was perfect in his eyes and did everything and anything for his baby son.
Despite Robby’s assumptions, it turned out that Dennis was the biggest Daddy’s boy ever.
His dad had always known that his Denny was different to the four boys that came before him. While his brothers were rolling around in the mud and kicking the football around, Dennis was making daisy chains for his daddy to wear as he worked on the farm. As they got older his brothers would help out on the farm while Dennis preferred to help out his mother with the chores. His Denny was softer than his other boys and needed a gentler hand when it came to raising him. He never shouted, never mocked Dennis’s special interests, always held him when he cried, always praised him.
Robby knew, and on some level he assumed Dennis knew, that would have been hard for a man of his generation and background to do so he fully understood why Dennis believed his father was the greatest man who ever lived.
Robby wasn’t going to lie, he was extremely nervous about meeting Dennis’s family, particularly his dad. He highly doubted the man would be thrilled when he saw Robby hovering around his son. But he’d promised Dennis and he just had to be brave.
Dennis was practically vibrating next to him in the airport, bouncing on his feet every time people walked through arrivals in case it was his parents. They’d never visited Dennis before because he’d never had a place for them to stay and, after sinking all their money into Dennis’s education, they could hardly afford the plane tickets or a hotel.
But now he had a boyfriend with a spare room and enough disposable income to pay for the tickets – although Dennis did say it was from his pay cheque to avoid his parent’s embarrassment.
“That’s them!” Dennis shouted, his excited scream echoing around the large airport. Before Robby could respond, Dennis was off. He ran at the couple, expertly avoiding other passengers, and was lifted into a big, bear hug by a huge, burly man. His mum barely got a look in as Dennis clung to his dad. But she didn’t seem to mind, instead watched the whole scene with a pleased smile.
“Daddy, come meet Robby!” Dennis said, dragging his dad by the hand towards his boyfriend.
Suddenly, that soft smile for Dennis had dropped and was replaced by a stony frown when he came to a stop in front of Robby. He didn’t hide his displeasure which caused Robby to swallow nervously. Least Dennis’s mum was smiling at him over her husband’s shoulder.
“Robby, this is John and Anna-Marie.” Dennis introduced them with a huge smile on his face. “This is Robby.”
“Hello sir.” Robby awkwardly greeted, despite being only a few years younger than him. He was slightly shorter than Robby but no less intimidating. Robby unexpectedly felt like he was 16 again and had to promise to bring his date home before curfew.
He stuck his hand out to shake but John just stared at it like it had personally offended him. Luckily, Anna-Marie stepped in to defuse the tension.
“Hi Robby!” She hugged him, as if they were old friends. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Denny has told us so much about you!”
“Hm.” John grunted, giving him the once over. Dennis might have told them a lot about him but Robby was willing to bet he left out his age.
“Be nice!” Dennis hissed at his dad.
“I am being nice, he’s lucky there’s not a shotgun between us.”
“Oh, stop it!” Anna-Marie said, gently slapping him on the shoulder. “Ignore him Robby, he’s a pussycat underneath it all.”
With no hesitation, she took Robby by the arm and led him out of the airport. As they walked, she asked him about his job, his friends, his family, his relationship with Dennis. And although he could hear Dennis prattling away behind him to his dad, he could feel his eyes glaring into the back of his head.
~~~
The drive back to Robby’s place had been strained, Dennis and his mum filling in the silence with constant chatter from the back seat while Robby and John sat up front. Robby attempted to make small talk but he got nothing in return beyond the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.
Somehow, Robby had found himself alone again with John once they were back at the house. Dennis had insisted the pair of them sit and have a drink while he and his mother cooked. Robby could tell Dennis was desperate for them to get on, his father’s approval was very important to him.
Robby had long given up on small talk so the pair of them sat in an awkward silence, staring at their drinks. The occasional clinking of ice against the glass the only sound.
“Michael.” John said, breaking the silence. Robby nearly choked on his drink, feeling like a kid again who was about to get into trouble because that was the only time he got called Michael, and in a way he supposed he was about to get a telling off. Growing up he was Mikey, then as a teenager it was shortened to Mike and then once he went to medical school he became Robby.
“Yeah?” He cleared his throat. Robby turned slightly to look at the other man but he continued to stare down at his drink.
“He’s vulnerable is my Denny, needs protecting in a way my other boys don’t. He sees the good in people but then they can take advantage of his kind nature.” John swirled the ice around his glass, Robby didn’t speak because he could tell them man had more to say. He was building to something important. “This isn’t the first time he’s fallen head over heels for a man that doesn’t feel the same, he gives his heart out easily but that means it gets broken just as quickly.”
“I do…” Robby started to defend himself but quickly got cut off.
“What are your intentions with my boy?” John asked, snapping his head up to look in Robby’s eyes. “He’s quite a piece younger, in a completely different life stage to you. If I remember correctly, you are his boss, so what do you want from him?”
Robby could finally see what Anna-Marie meant, underneath was a pussycat who just cared a lot about his son. He didn’t want him to be taken advantage of, give his heart to another man who wouldn’t look after it in the way it deserved.
“I know what our relationship looks like from the outside but I would do anything for your son. I adore him and I just want to love him for as long as he’ll let me. No further intentions than that.”
“Hmm.” He grunted, but it lacked some of the earlier anger.
“You’ve raised a good man and every single day I count my lucky stars that he loves me like I love him. I know you’re worried about him but he touched my heart the first day I met him so if anyone should be worried about their heart being broken it’s me. He’s very important to me, just like he is to you, and I promise to look after him and love him for the rest of my life.”
Robby could see the edges of John thawing slightly, there was still a hesitancy there but it was definitely smaller than before.
“Thank you.” He nodded, knocking his drink back and signalling the end of their heart to heart.
Robby attempted small talk again and finally got some responses, he could tell Dennis was thrilled when he walked back into the room and they were actually talking to each other. John frowned slightly when Dennis sat on the arm of the chair and draped himself across Robby’s shoulder but at least he didn’t go mute again. As they ate dinner, Robby could feel Dennis’s hand slip into his and give it a squeeze, a silent ‘thank you’ for winning over his dad. Dennis never doubted him, he knew Robby could charm anybody when he tried.
The rest of the visit still had its awkward moments but John could see Robby truly loved his boy and did slowly warm up to him. Even if he did send a picture of his beloved shotgun to Robby when he got home with the warning to never break his Denny’s heart.
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trans dennis whitaker at a gathering at robby’s house for ‘boy’s night’ with robby, jack, frank, and brendon.
they’re using robby’s small hot top that fits 4 people, but dennis isn’t as big as the others and manages to fit, except he’s kinda of in an awkward in-between space, sandwiched by robby and jack, with basically no space to move.
worse, one of the jets opposite of him is somehow, someway, aimed directly at his crotch and hits his clit through his swim trunks.
he has to sit there, body warmed by the water and the heat radiating from his two crushes coworkers bosses’ skin, surrounded by, let’s be honest, sleazy men, all while trying to ignore the stimulation between his legs as to not cum.
it doesn’t help that these men spend all night teasing him about the little blush on his cheeks and the way he seems out of breath…
Robby knew that Dennis was attractive, he had just the right amount of muscles, he dressed well for his body (thanks to Trinity), he had a beautiful smile, he was genuinely caring towards others, his laugh lit up a room, he was patient, he was kind, he was funny. So, yes, Robby understood Dennis was attractive, the number of nights he spent thinking about him just proved the point really.
But he was used to pushing those feelings down, hiding them behind a professional smile so nobody would know what he truly thought. He could deal with keeping his attraction a secret just fine.
What Robby couldn’t deal with was everybody else also thinking Dennis was attractive.
It was Dana’s 60th birthday and all the nurses had got together and planned a surprise for her. They’d rented out a floor in a bar, which played live music and offered two for one cocktails. It was a good turn out but Robby wasn’t exactly surprised, everybody adored Dana and would make sure they could come even it was just for one drink.
The private floor was nice, they only needed to venture out to order drinks. Robby was too old to be dealing with the hustle of a bar, he could just nurse his beer and talk to friends without having to deal with the general public. He did enough of that at work.
However, his younger colleagues were beginning to migrate downstairs where they could dance near the live band. He smiled as he watched Dennis get pulled through the crowd by Trinity and begin reluctantly dancing.
Unbeknownst to Dennis, Robby’s attention wasn’t the only he’d captured. Men all around him had turned to watch him dance, giggling loudly as Mel twirled him around. Trinity grabbed him and whispered in his ear, pointing up at the balcony where Robby leant. Quickly, Dennis glanced up and gave Robby a huge smile with a wave. Robby awkwardly saluted him back before turning to Jack who came to stand beside him.
“Enjoying yourself?” Jack teased, already knowing exactly who Robby would have been watching.
“Plenty.” He said, swigging the last of his beer. “Where’s the birthday girl?”
“Downstairs.” He said, pointing to where Dana stood out against the crowd with her tiara and bright pink birthday sash. “Emma convinced her to do shots.”
“Christ.” He snorted. “Rather her than me.”
Robby noticed that further down the bar, Dennis leant with one of his braver admirers talking to him. No doubt offering to buy him a drink.
“You’re empty, brother.” Jack hinted, taking the bottle out of Robby’s hand.
Not needing to be told twice, Robby headed downstairs and not so subtly set himself up next to Dennis. He was far enough away that it could be considered a coincidence if Dennis ignored him in favour of the flirty man but close enough to step in if he was uncomfortable.
“Robby!” Dennis shouted as a fruity cocktail appeared in front of him.
“Hey, you having fun?” He asked.
“Tons! You here for a dance?” He swayed his hips a little which resulting in them briefly brushing against Robby’s own. He felt hot from just that simple touch.
“I don’t dance kid.” He shook his head.
“What? Everybody dances!”
“I’ve got no rhythm.” He shrugged, nearly jumping when he suddenly felt Dennis’s hands on his hips.
“I could help.” He winked, forcing Robby to move his hips in time with Dennis’s.
“Is your dad going to leave you alone at any point?” A voice behind Dennis asked, Robby had almost forgotten he existed.
He knew he should be offended but he had to laugh, the guy had a point. Who wanted their creepy, older boss hanging around when they were trying to pull? Robby was ready to bow out and take Dennis’s hands off him when he clocked the pure anger on Dennis’s face before he whipped around to face the other man.
“Excuse me?” Dennis shouted. “What did you just say?”
“Leave the old guy alone and let’s go dance.” He suggested, clearly not spotting Dennis’s anger.
“That old guy saves lives on a daily basis and deserves some respect, what the fuck do you do?” Robby never felt like a damsel in distress before but he was selfishly enjoying Dennis defend his honour.
“Come on, I just bought you a drink. Don’t I deserve a little something?” He smiled in what Robby assumed he thought was a charming way.
“How dare you!” Dennis shoved the drink towards him, a lot of then contents spilling on the bar.
“Seriously? You’re picking Daddy over me?” He scoffed as he gestured towards Robby, again he couldn’t really argue. Of the two of them, he was much more attractive and age appropriate. Dennis stepped back so he was pressed against Robby’s chest.
“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?”
“Whatever. You’re not even that hot anyway.” He grabbed the two drinks off the bar and headed back into the crowd.
“What an asshole.” Dennis muttered, turning towards Robby but making no attempts to step away.
“And wrong.” Robby added, the alcohol making him a little looser lipped than he should be. But who could blame him when Dennis was pressed up against him, his brain was short circuiting.
“What?” Dennis tilted his head slightly before realisation kicked in. “Do you think I’m hot Dr Robby?”
“Come on now, you know you’re hot.” He mumbled, embarrassed to be blushing at his big old age.
“If it makes you feel better, I think you’re hot too.” He whispered right in Robby’s ear before lightly kissing his cheek.
Robby felt warm all over, desperately wanting to pin Dennis to the bar and kiss him senseless, regardless of who saw. Dennis must have seen the desire in his eyes because he hooked his hand around Robby’s neck and pulled him down. It was a quick kiss but it was full of promise, it made Robby want to throw Dennis over his shoulder and take him home.
“Come with me.” Dennis smirked, taking his hand and leading him towards the corridor to the toilets.
He knew he shouldn’t, he wanted to do things properly with Dennis but he also needed to get his hands on him right now. He knew the man from earlier was probably still watching them, hell people from work were probably watching them too but he just didn’t care.
They’d barely locked the door behind them before Robby was on Dennis, pinning him to the wall and kissing him, just the way he’d been imaging for weeks. He pushed his leg between Dennis’s, smiling into the kiss as Dennis helplessly rode his thigh.
“Fuck.” Dennis gasped as Robby’s lips moved to his neck, biting and nipping until red bloomed against his skin.
Robby groaned as he looked at the marks on his neck, he wanted to take Dennis back out to the bar and parade him around so everybody knew who he belonged to. But suddenly, Dennis was dropping to his knees and Robby realised there was no place he’d rather be.
Dennis looked up at Robby as he gently cupped the bulge in his trousers, as if asking for permission. It would take a stronger man than Robby to say no to those begging, blue eyes.
“Jesus Den, please.”
Not needing to be told twice, Dennis quickly undid the zipper and lowered his trousers and pants in one go, eyes widening at the sight of Robby’s hard cock in front of him. He licked one long strip from base to tip before kissing him all over, no part of Robby’s dick untouched as he practically worshipped him.
“Wanted this... wanted you… for so long.” He said between kisses.
He licked the tip, moaning as the salty, tangy taste of precum hit his tongue. Dennis took him inside, staring deep into Robby’s eyes as his cock slowly disappeared into his lips.
Robby could die happy now he knew what it felt like to be inside Dennis’s mouth, now he knew all the things that tongue could do.
Robby desperately dug his fingers into soft curls as Dennis bobbed his head back and forth, groaning with each thrust as if he were the one receiving such pleasure. His hips helplessly bucked and sent his cock deeper down his throat.
“Feels good… you’re so good.” Robby moaned.
His head hit the door in front of him as he practically curled in on himself, Dennis taking him all the way in until his nose was nestled in coarse hair, did the kid have no gag reflex? He swallowed around the head of his cock, moving his head up and down and making sure his cock hit the back of his throat each time.
God, Robby was close. He hadn’t come this quickly in a long time, although if he was being honest with himself the only partner he’d had recently was his right hand.
“Den… I…” He tried to warn but he could barely speak, just powerless to his moans and pants. But Dennis seemed to understand what he was saying, working his mouth quicker, his hands coming up to play with what he couldn’t fit in his mouth.
Robby cried out as he came down Dennis’s throat, his vision blacking out momentary as all he could feel was the wet warmth around his cock as it twitched and spurted.
Dennis swirled his tongue around him one last time before pulling off, a string of saliva mixed with cum connecting the tip to his puffy, red lips.
“You’re bigger than I was expecting.” He admitted, voice slightly hoarse.
“Baby, you’ve already got me with my pants around my ankles in a bar bathroom. Enough of the sweet talk.” He joked, pulling Dennis to his feet and gently wiping his face with some tissue.
Robby tucked himself away before returning Dennis to his rightful place on his thigh, grinding into the hardness of his crotch.
“We should probably head back.” Dennis gasped, his hips telling a different story. “We have been gone a suspiciously long time.”
With great reluctance, Robby let Dennis push him away. Dennis splashed cold water in his face and took some deep breaths to calm down. While it was blatantly obvious what had happened in the bathroom, Trinity would never let him live it down if he walked through a bar hard.
“But take me back to yours afterwards and we can finish what we started.” He winked over his shoulder when he caught Robby’s pout in the mirror.
Dennis took Robby’s hand and he let himself be dragged around by the younger man a second time that night. He led him to the band, where a wasted Dana was dropping it low. It seemed like the upper floor was empty now and the Pitt crew had commandeered the dancefloor. An arm swung around his shoulder and a smug Jack handed him another beer.
“Shut up.” Robby rolled his eyes, taking the drink anyway.
“I didn’t say anything.” He held his hands up innocently.
Robby knew it was one of his oldest friend’s birthdays but he was desperate to leave. Surely Dana’s too drunk to notice if they left early?
Thinking...service dog Dennis on a rare night shift during a thunder storm. And Abbot finds him hiding under the table in the break room from some particularly loud thunder
Service Dog Dennis AU Part 10
Thank you so much for this, I'm sorry it took so long! I'm also sorry because there is a mention of Dennis wetting himself out of fear, but this is absolutely a non-sexual caretaking situation.
Jack had been caught off guard when the thunder first started. He never really bothered to check the weather forecast; Robby always claimed it was his last desperate attempt to cling to a sense of sponteneity and adventure.
Jack told Robby that someone with a midlife crisis bike didn't get to say those things.
He hadn't really thought much of it, beyond noting which patients or staff seemed spooked by the sound - nothing too bad, some kids with some wobbly lip and a few of the residents flinched a little at the first clap, but nobody seemed to need any kind of intervention.
The fact that he hadn't even thought to check on Dennis would always sit in the corners of his mind where he kept his all his failures close.
The night had been a busy one, and he had lost track of Dennis' happy tail and twitchy ears as they passed each other like ships in the night, wending their way to different bedsides and rarely overlapping.
As soon as he sepped into the break room during a lull, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong.
The smell hit him first; the distinct, stale odour of urine soaking into the air. It was immediate and the source obvious; a cold puddle trailing out from underneath the table, where Jack could see a pair of battered shoes that he recognised with a rapidly-sinking stomach.
"Dennis?" He crouched slowly, keeping his distance from the table, for reasons entirely unrelated to the urine.
He received no response, and he didn't need one.
Because there, huddled under the table and shaking so violently that his muscles must surely be stiffening painfully, was their sweet Dennis.
Ears pinned back to his head, eyes wide and almost entirely swallowed by his pupils, tail curled tightly to his body. The fur was a little wet near the base.
"Hey honey," he spoke softly, caught the tiny twitch of the tip of one ear. "Thunder's not a friend, huh?"
Dennis didn't give any confirmation or denial, but considering that he jolted violently with every new boom that rolled over their heads, it would have been superfluous and cruel to insist on it.
Jack nodded, casting his eyes around for something he could use, before inspiration struck.
"I'm gonna go get something for you, Den. I'll be right back, okay?"
The look that Dennis pinned him with somehow managed to be blank and terrified at the same time. Jack nodded again, recalibrating. He pulled out his phone, fiddled with the settings before placing it gently on the ground in front of Dennis.
"See this timer? I'm going to go to Robby's office to fetch something real quick-" unfortunately not the man himself "-but I will be back before the timer runs out."
Dennis trembled, made a gesture that might be a nod but might just be the force of his body shaking.
"Okay." Jack reached out, smoothed a hand carefully over Dennis' head to see how he tolerates it. His ears made way for Jack's hand, and he blinked slowly.
Jack rose, wincing a little at the twinge his leg gives where it rubs in the prosthesis.
He slipped of of the breakroom, flagging down Lena on his brisk trot towards Robby's largely unused office.
"Break room's off limits for the next few minutes, can you let everyone know? And have environmental standing by."
He didn't break his stride, but he heard Lena's exasperated but affirmative huff. He'd apologise later.
Robby's office was more store-room than workspace, because when the man was in the building, every second was spent out on the floor with the patients and staff. He barely had time to sit at the workstation out on the floor, let alone sequester himself away in his office during his shift.
Nevertheless, Jack found what he was looking for hanging up on a hook behind the door, as he knew he would, because none of them ever really wear the things.
He gave the surprisingly still-white coat a quick sniff, shrugging to himself and hoping for the best. To him, it didn't really smell like much, but he was hoping that the kid's nose might be able to pick up enough of Robby's scent to lend him some sort of comfort.
Another crack of thunder hurried him out of the office and back down the hallway.
He entered the break room as quietly as he could, closing the door softly behind him.
"Hey, Denny." He crouched again, shaking out the coat. "See, told you I'd be back before the timer ran down. Not bad for a man with one leg."
He hadn't been expecting a laugh or the usual scandalised attempt at hiding one, and that was probably a good thing because Dennis looked like he might not even be able to process the fact that Jack was talking to him, let along joking with him.
Jack slipped his phone back in his pocket, and gave Dennis' back a quick, firm stroke.
"Okay, kid. Speaking of my leg, I'm going to need you to come on out of there. I got something to help you but I can't scrunch up under there like you can."
Jack placed two careful but firm hands around the kid's waist as he spoke, petting his sides with small movements of his fingers and gradually increasing the pressure until he had a firm enough grip.
"There we go, kiddo, nice and easy."
He started to gently slide Dennis out from under the table, the smooth floor and the kid's tightly-curled position helping to ease the way in gliding the little ball of misery closer to him. Jack felt the panicked little growl unfurl in Dennis' chest as he was brought out from under the shelter of the table, and there was a little flash of white as Dennis curled his lip to reveal his sharp canines and snap them vaguely in Jack's direction.
"Oh, I know, you're very big and scary," Jack murmured as he scoots Dennis the rest of the way, maneuvering them so that he was sitting leaning against the wall and Dennis was dragged to be cradled between his legs, back nestled against Jack's chest. He paid no mind to urine soaking through into his own scrubs.
"There's a good boy, I gotcha." Jack quickly unfurl's Robby's old lab coat, draping it around the kid's front and winding it tightly around him like a swaddle. Dennis' growls tapered off into a something between a grunt and a whine as he shifts uneasily in Jack's grip.
"Yeah, I know it feels too tight, sweet pea. But the pressure's gonna help, I promise." Jack leaned his head back against the wall, bringing his hand up to encourage Dennis to rest his head on his chest.
"Let's just stay here quietly for a minute. You're okay."
Jack's hand ran gently through Dennis' curls, stroking down his ears, repeating the motion until he felt a shuddery sigh leave Dennis' body, felt him slump and finally relax against him.
"There you go. Good job, Den."
His only answer was a quiet sniffling that turned into gentle sniffs, Dennis' head tilting as he snuffled at the collar of the coat wrapped around him.
"Yeah," Jack huffed, patting Dennis' back with his free hand, "thought you'd like that. Favourite-person-smell, and all. He hasn't worn it in a while, sorry if it's a little stale. Should still smell like him though, even if it does also have hints of indignant rage left over."
Jack's not sure whether he imagined the tiny, questioning sound that left Dennis' mouth, but there's never going to be a time when telling stories about Michael Robinavitch is boring to him.
"He only ever wears it when Gloria forces him to. And she's usually only doing that when she wants the good publicity. Takes her weeks to wear him down, she probably has to schedule events around how long he's gonna hold out for."
He chuckled, tried not to let it be too egregiously fond. Resettled Dennis when he shuffled a little, re-adjusting so he could gently straighten the slightly damp tail so it wasn't all scrunched up against Jack's legs.
"You should see the - sorry buddy, just don't wanna squash your tail - you should see the fucking photos of Robby from those events. You've never seen a more bitter, lemon-sucking face than Robby at a press event where he has to wear the white coat and do the Doctor Robinavitch and His Travelling Circus song and dance - his words, not mine."
Jack cocked an eyebrow at Dennis as if he'd actually made a complaint.
"His obnoxious, fake smile is even worse though, so Gloria stopped trying to force it and settled for him looking like he's being held at gunpoint instead."
Jack smiled at the small, giggle-adjacent puff of air exhaled against his chest. He scritched Dennis' ears and allowed them both to settle into silence for a while, vaguely wondering if they'd heard the last of the thunder.
"I'm sorry."
Jack closed his eyes, longer than a blink and in place of a sigh.
"No, kid. You don't need to be sorry. Not ever for shit like this."
"I'm - I'm getting you all wet."
"Denny," Jack's hand squeezed gently at the base of the kid's neck and softened his tone, "that's literally what scrubs are for. I've been a doctor for over twenty years; I've had a lot worse than a little pee on them."
He could practically feel Dennis' cheek burning against his chest as he wriggled uncomfortably at the word being spoken aloud.
"That's what the scrub dispenser is for, honey. Don't worry about it."
He gave them both another moment of stillness, hands smoothing up and down Dennis' arms like he was trying to warm him. He took the opportunity to give Dennis a quick once-over, pleased to see the shakes had stopped, the kid's pulse wasn't fluttering so wildly at his neck, and even his ears were starting to hesitantly perk up from their defensive position plastered flat against the kid's head.
Denny's pants were soaked through, and Jack could feel the way he was holding himself stiffly, trying not to move too much and have his skin start blaring overstimulated and disgusted warnings at him.
Jack lowered his voice until he was practically whispering in Dennis' ear, even though it really was just the two of them in the room.
"Hey, Denny? How about we go get all cleaned up, sound good?"
Dennis immediately ducked his head, a soft and reflexive whine leaving him. Jack wordlessly settled him, patting his back again and shushing him, giving him a moment to feel whatever he needed to feel.
Eventually, he felt Dennis' head move against his chest in a slow nod. He dipped his head and pressed a quick kiss against the curls, nodding in return.
___
The staff showers weren't the most luxurious experience, but they were modern and clean, and Jack was continually surprised that administration had ever given them the stamp of approval. He suspected that Robby's repeated yelling and stomping had something to do with it.
He had sat Dennis on the shower chair and instructed him gently to remove his clothes while Jack messed with the temperature, but he could see that the kid hadn't moved a muscle, and was tightening himself back into that little ball of humiliation from earlier.
Jack knelt down in front of him, ignoring his leg's protest. He set his hand gently on Dennis' knee.
"Let me help you, sweetheart. Sometimes it makes it easier."
Because he knew all too well the terrible and continual clash between the furious desire for independence, wanting to be treated like there was nothing different or wrong, and wanting someone to just fucking see you.
Wanting someone to help when helping yourself just felt too goddamn humiliating and difficult.
Dennis nodded, lifed his hands from their protective position near his lap. Jack's movements were ever so gentle as he reached to slide Denns' top off and then unlace his scrub cords, but they were sure and firm, and he didn't drag the process out. There was an experienced and clinical deftness to the way he encouraged Dennis to lift his hips so he could slide his pants down his legs. He was incredibly gentle with manipulating Dennis' tail out from the pants, and he made sure his eyes didn't linger at the place where tail met skin.
It still wasn't quite enough to stop the gutteral little whine that broke free when he felt his wet pants be quickly stripped from his legs, like the speed would make them both forget that he'd pissed himself.
"Shh, you're okay. You're doing a real good job for me, Denny." Jack murmured as he adusted the shower head and directed the warm water over Dennis' lap and legs first.
Dennis turned his head away, eyes burning as he tried to swallow down the bitter humiliation.
Jack silently and clinically swept gloved, soapy hands across Dennis' body, giving his breathing time to settle before he took a breath and quietly spoke again.
"First time I heard gunfire - real, active battlezone gunfire - I pissed myself."
It was almost funny how quickly Dennis' head whipped around to stare up at Jack, but he made sure not to laugh or smile. He kept his expression open, nodded instead.
"It's the kind of thing nothing can actually prepare you for. You run all these drills, you pass all these marksmanship tests, you spend every day training in a place where you hear nothing but gunfire."
Jack placed one hand carefully on Dennis' forehead to guard his eyes, and carefully rinsed his hair with the shower head in his other hand.
"But none of that's real, even when they're live rounds. None of it can prepare you for suddenly being in the middle of a wide open field, and suddenly realising that this is real life, and there's not going to be any commanding officer calling time on any of this. You're here until you get out, or you don't."
Jack gently lifted Dennis' arms, and the kid let him sluice warm water there.
"Point is, I didn't have time to be embarrassed until later, when we were out of there and back at base. That was when it hit me."
Jack snorted, a surprisingly cheerful sound, and Dennis cocked his head minutely. A pale shadow of his usual curious tilt, but it spurred Jack to continue his story as he made sure Dennis was free of all his soap suds.
"My sergeant saw me trying to waddle away to hit the showers, and I thought I could try to lie to him when he asked me what was wrong." Jack's eyes were sparkling with a fond, remembered mirth that Dennis though suited him very much. "He looked down, realised what had happened, and Jesus Christ, the look he gave me. I thought he was going to ream me out in front of everyone for being a coward. But instead, he looked me up and down then stared me straight in the eye and said, 'Oh, you think you're so fucking special, don't you, Abbot? Think you're the first man to get scared when he's about to die? Do you think you're better than me, Private?' And it took me a while to really understand what he was saying, but when I finally got it, I'd taken too long to say no, so he had me on latrine duty for three weeks."
Jack's still telling the story with that slightly amused undertone bubbling underneath everything, so Dennis tried to take it in the spirit in which it was inteded, when really he would quite like to wrap his arms around Jack and squeeze.
He felt a scratchy towel descend over his shoulders, and his tail twitched once as Jack started to vigorously dry him all over, jostling his body in a way that made his ears prick up a little, like they did when it was play time.
"My point is," Jack scrubbed Dennis' hair and ears, snorting when Dennis made a soft yip and tried to give Jack a little nip, "I've seen all types of bodies and all types of people do pretty much everything under the sun when they're scared. Doesn't matter what you're scared of, that's not important. What's important is that it's a very natural response. Fear is just your body trying to keep you safe. It's just got a funny way of doing it sometimes."
Dennis nodded through the off-white shelter of the towel that was still drying his hair. The world suddenly reappeared when Jack excavated him from it, and the only thing in his field of vision was that soft, slightly lopsided smile that made Dennis' tail thump against the shower chair.
"Don't be ashamed of being scared, Denny. You got people in your corner when it gets too much to carry by yourself."
Before Dennis could do something stupid like launch himself at Jack and lick his face, the smile on it became something more like a smirk.
"Now. Wanna call Robby and whine until he brings us food?"
i think about golden retriever hybrid dennis a lot, but where almost all hybrids inhabit the form of their animal that coincides with their human age, dennis's hybrid form somehow never grew up or aged- he just stayed a puppy. he's very shy about being around other people in his hybrid form, becasue not only do people who didn't see him transform assume he's a child, he's also... a very small puppy. he's not really strong enough to run around or take care of himself in his hybrid form, so whenever he transforms, he tends to do so on his own bed so he can just lay there and burrow under blankets. his puppy body doesn't facilitate much more than that.
none of the other PTMC staff even know he's a hybrid for a very long time (aside from trinity, sworn to secrecy) since he doesn't use the facilities in their breakroom to transform and decompress like everyone else does. they all just assume that he's fully human the way fourty percent of the population are. he does feel very jealous when he sees victoria taking a nap as a little long-eared bunny rabbit on a cushion, and of the way that mckay the red setter dog gets to stretch out on the sofa to chill out, but he cant have everyone finding out that he's a tiny puppy who really would need support and active care if he transitioned at work.
that's the way it stays until they have a shift so stressful that robby and al-hashimi announce that it's in the best interests of all the hybrid staff to spend time in their animal forms before going home, so that they're less tense and more settled and all get home safely. dennis would continue to pretend that he wasnt a hybrid, but his brain has been nagging and pulling at him all day to let his muscles and body rest in the way that his puppy form let him. he *supposed* if he snuck in really quietly and picked a secluded spot in the corner, he might be overlooked and no-one would question the presence of the tiny sleepy puppy? it was worth a shot, especially with so many other hybrids around.
his plan goes well initially, going in early and finding a spot mostly hidden away and scattered with cushions he could rest his soon-to-be weak little body on, and he manages to shift with no-one seeing. now no-one knows he's dennis, and all they see is a rumpled golden puppy whose eyes are still half-closed by default and who can't bark properly, only whine softly in his throat. the first people to join don't bat an eye, changing into well-groomed cats or elegant looking snakes and huddling up on top of the cabinets to be close to the heat lamps. dennis stares at it all blearily form his place flopped on the cushions, tubby little puppy legs unable to let him trot around like the other dogs were doing.
it all goes wrong when robby, a non hybrid, walks in to check on everyone. he headcounts, seeming satisfied, and then his eyes fall on dennis, who cant help the way his teeny little tail gives it's best impression of a wag, smacking the padded material beneath him gently. robby frowns and walks over to the puppy (surely a member of staff, but who? this puppy was the age you usually saw child hybrids inhabit, and by the looks of it, a very young child too- three at maximum.) and crouches down to see him. dennis cant help how sleepy he feels and yawns, scrunching his puppy face up and then sneezing once, looking disgruntled. robby chuckled deeply and dennis couldnt take his eyes off of the older man.
"hey there, little guy, i'm not sure i've seen you around here before. who are you, little one?"
robby knew he shouldn't be addressing an adult as though they were a child, but the way the puppy was just so small and looked so soft and sleepy brought it out in him. he reached forward his hand to pet against the white-gold fur and stopped just before he did so, looking for permission. dennis blinked up at him and whined again, inching his heavy little head slightly closer to the hand. robby took that as a go ahead.
dennis, on the pillows, was in heaven. he was so tired and suddenly robby had arrived and was petting him and scratching behind his ears and it was making him feel so fucking good. he let out more squeaks and puppy noises as he craned his neck and headbutted robby's hand for more pets. robby was smiling, enamoured by this little thing that was the sweetest creature ever. he sat down on the floor next to the pup and kept petting.
dennis, blissed out as he was from all the pets, saw his opportunity. he fought against his weak limbs and tiny body, and made a collosal effort to flop his body onto robby's legs, aiming at shuffling his way into his lap to get more of the attention he was being lathered with. robby let him crawl on, battling the urge to coo and settling to puppy carefully on him.
robby scritched him behind the ears some more, petted down his back, praised the little doggy profusely... all while dennis was falling asleep. robby noticed the dead weight of the little thing and looked down to see his eyes shut and his golden face peaceful. if he listened closely, he could even hear huffy, deep breaths telling him his new little friend was taking a nap.
robby couldn't help it, he leant back against the wall and hoisted the puppy to lay on his chest, holding it securely against him like a baby, its warm weight and gentle snuggles making his eyes heavy too. the rest of the hybrids watched now in curiosity as their boss fell asleep under the weight of a pup.
several hours later, robby wakes up. the room is empty except for them, and the weight on his chest is now less puppy and more adult human. he looks down and sees golden curls buried in his neck and a very distinctive young doctor cuddled up to him. dennis whitaker.
robby nearly laughed out loud. of *course* the adorable cuddly baby puppy was the unendingly sweet intern he'd come to be besotted with. of course it was the intern that he'd like to kiss and cuddle and take out to dinner. he decided to wait, wanting to take as much time with dennis as possible.
when dennis did wake up to find himself using his boss as a pillow and knowing robby knew now that he was a hybrid, he went white with fear. he tried to scamper off, but robby held him firm, looking into clear blue eyes.
"you make a pretty cute little puppy, dennis."
it's not long before he's *robby's* beloved little puppy.
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Summary: Jack Abbot's relaxing day off takes a turn for the worse when he hears his phone ring. After all, his phone is on do not disturb and there's only one person that he's allowed to interrupt his peace — you. Even worse, your voice isn't the first thing he hears when he picks up.
Pairing: Jack Abbot x nurse!reader
Warnings: f!reader, violence against healthcare workers, language, mentions of bodily harm, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries sustained at the workplace, use of the word 'assault', Jack Abbot's dead wife mentioned, description of a drunk driving accident, Frank Langdon catches some strays, use of the nickname 'sweetheart', use of the nickname 'slugger', no use of y/n, mutual pining, fluff, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 5.5k
Author's Note: Yo — so I'm still alive. I have been stuck in The Pitt for awhile now. This one has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a hot second. I also have a Robby fic sitting in there that I desperately need to finish. Those two men have truly bewitched me. Anyways, hope y'all are ready to be stuck in The Pitt with me for the time being. Hope you guys enjoy this one!
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“Motherfucker!”
You angrily hit the coffee maker that has been causing the entire emergency department trouble for the majority of today’s shift. Langdon had watched you struggle earlier this morning before swooping in to fix the problem with a swift hit to the side of the machine and an off hand comment about having the ‘magic touch’. So, you imitate his actions now — hoping another dose of caffeine will help get you through the last couple hours of your shift. The machine stops its incessant beeping just as it had hours ago, but instead of brewing a fresh cup of mediocre coffee, the interactive screen goes completely black.
Great.
You squeeze your eyes shut and take in a deep breath. If Jack were here, he’d miraculously show up beside you with a latte in hand. You don’t know how he does it, but the man just knows exactly what you need and when you need it — you’ve taken to calling it his ‘sixth sense’. In reality, that’s Jack — observant and steadfast.
You miss the night shift.
It’s not that you dislike the day shift. In fact, you happily accepted Dana’s request for your help covering for Donnie during his paternity leave. In Robby’s words: they needed another nurse practitioner on the day shift and there’s only one that he trusts. A part of you thinks that it was just flattery to get you to come to the light side, but deep down you know that Robby only knows how to speak honestly. Lena wasn’t necessarily happy to let her best help switch shifts for an extended period of time, but she also knows that the ED is a team — sure the staff is split between day shift and night shift, but things only run smoothly when the shifts help each other out.
Jack wasn’t too keen on the idea.
He couldn’t stop you of course — Lena is your supervisor, not him. But that didn’t stop him from voicing his concerns. Jack Abbot has always been protective of his nightcrawlers, but there was something verging on possessive in the way he told Robby that this is simply a temporary arrangement after he realized he couldn’t change your mind.
“Should I call Ahmad to escort the caffeine criminal off the premises or do you have a handle on the situation?”
Robby’s voice breaks through your thoughts. You let out a sigh before turning to face the day shift’s senior attending. His expression, usually threaded with deep exhaustion and stoicism, is teetering on the edge of playfulness while a small smile tugs at his lips.
“Y’know what, Robinavitch? We never had this problem when we had the old machine. Mr. Coffee only had three buttons and never betrayed me.”
Robby lets out a breath through his nose — not quite a laugh, but the closest he’ll get to one this late into his shift. Gloria had decided to get the department a fancy new coffee maker that makes individual cups instead of a full pot a few weeks ago to celebrate improved patient satisfaction scores. What was meant to be a gesture of goodwill from upstairs has become the staff’s worst nightmare.
“You sound like Jack.”
You roll your eyes, but you also know no one has been more upset about this change than the night shift’s senior attending. Robby has always brought his own coffee from home, but Jack has been relying on the emergency department’s supply of shitty coffee for the entirety of his career at PTMC. You’d asked him about it once when you first started working together and he’d revealed under fluorescent lights that there was something comforting about the way it reminded him of the coffee rations he’d receive during his deployments.
“Have you talked to Jack recently?”
Robby attempts to sound nonchalant; however, you know him better than that. You’ve come to terms with the fact that he’s worse than the night shift nurses. Always needing to be in the know about everything and everyone. He swears that it’s because he’s the senior attending, so it’s his responsibility to keep an eye and ear on all of his staff. But Jack isn’t like that. He’s always been reserved and professional during shifts, always keeping his staff at a distance so he doesn’t get too attached — everyone except for you. In between cups of coffee and rooftop conversations, you managed to slip through the cracks of that cool, steely exterior.
“We talk during handover, but that’s not exactly the same as working a twelve hour shift with someone. Why? Anything I should be concerned about?”
Robby’s lips pull into a tight smile at your response, but anxiety finds its place in your chest. During handoff about a week ago, Mateo had pulled you aside to ask if you had any idea what was going on with Jack. Your brow furrowed as Mateo filled you in about Jack’s sudden change in demeanor with his staff — the once calm and collected attending has been increasingly impatient and scattered. You’d reassured Mateo that it was probably just stress related since Jack hadn’t had a day off in months — and even then he spent his rare off-call moments volunteering as a SWAT medic. You figured that Jack had finally hit a wall and was running on fumes, but Robby’s words were now making you second your assumptions.
“Nothing of concern, just looking out for you and Jack.”
Robby has this tone that makes it seem like he knows more about your relationship with Jack Abbot than you do. You know about his history with the night shift’s senior attending physician, but Robby hasn’t been there for the close calls at three o’clock in the morning when Jack puts his complete trust in your hands without a second thought. He hasn’t been there for the nights that seem to drag on for days when it seems like the sun will never rise again. He hasn’t been there for the hushed conversations in stairwells when the night feels darkest and the only comfort to be found in PTMC is in each other’s presence.
It’s not a bond built on flirtation — God knows, Jack Abbot flirts with everyone. And does that make you a little jealous? Maybe. And were you hoping that the distance created due to being on day shift for a few weeks would help you create some boundaries with the man? Possibly. But here you are, still infuriatingly infatuated with a man you have absolutely no chance with.
“I can assure you there’s no Jack and I.”
“Mhm.”
That damn tone again. You want to smack that smug look right off of his stupid face, but before you get the chance to fire back a commotion outside abruptly ends your conversation. The two of you move in tandem, Robby holding the door to the break room open as you duck under his arm before surveying the scene. Your eyes immediately widen as you spot Langdon attempting to keep two infuriated men on their separate gurneys as they yell over each other. He meets your eyes before moving his gaze to Robby, relief flooding his features.
“A little help here?”
You and Robby share a brief, knowing look before dividing and conquering the situation. Robby steps in, wheeling one of the men away while you follow after Landgon who is moving with the other.
“What’s the story here?”
You have to shout over the man’s incessant yelling, but Langdon ducks his head down slightly as he navigates the gurney through the ED to hear you better in the chaos. From not too far away, you hear Robby yell for Whitaker to take over his unruly patient so he can go find Ahmad for back up. Langdon’s shoulder bumping into yours pulls your attention back to your own situation.
“Bar argument gone ugly.”
The man laying on the gurney is bleeding profusely from lacerations on his forehead, but is cognescent enough to keep loudly threatening the other patient that came in with him. You manage to get a closer look at his wounds once Langdon locks the gurney in place and through the deep crimson you see little, semi-translucent pieces of debris. Your brow furrows as the light catches one of the pieces.
“Is that glass?”
Langdon nods before meeting your eyes with a crooked smile plastered on his face.
“Beer bottle to the head. Told you it got ugly.”
You let out a breath before gloving up with Langdon. As the two of you attempt to assess his injuries the man begins to fight you both off, pushing your hands away before either of you can start getting control of the bleeding. You pull back hoping to get the man’s attention so that Langdon can start giving him the care he needs.
“Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down so that we can take a look at your injuries. Can you tell me your name?”
Finally, the man’s eyes land on you but they are filled with nothing but unbridled fury. You fight off the urge to take a step back from the situation and, instead, stand your ground.
“What I need is to get my hands on that son of a bitch who tried to fucking kill me. Can you help me with that?”
You raise both of your hands as the man fights off Langdon once again. He gives you an exasperated look as his shoulders slump in annoyance.
“I can not, this is a hospital not a fighting ring. What I can help you with is getting your bleeding under control and taking that glass out of your head before you get a nasty infection. How’s that sound?”
Your tone is stern but gentle as you attempt to talk the patient down. For a moment, his face softens in understanding and you almost let out a sigh of relief after having gotten through to him, but then Whitaker’s voice tears through the moment.
“I’ve got a runner, incoming!”
“Oh, shit.”
Langdon’s tone makes your heart rate spike, but before you get a chance to turn towards the commotion Whitaker’s very angry patient shoves you into the wall.
“We need some help in here! You good?”
Langdon’s worried eyes are locked on you as he tries to keep the two patients from tearing each other apart. Your shoulder took the brunt of the impact, but you had managed to stay on your feet which saved you from any additional trauma. After catching your breath, you leap in to help restrain the patient who just assaulted you.
“Sir, please. We need you to calm down!”
Your words fall on deaf ears as he continues to lunge at your patient who is now being held back by Langdon. What a fucking mess. You haven’t had a situation like this since last year’s Fourth of July night shift when two drunken men came into the E.D. after one of them practically eviscerated his buddy’s legs after shooting off a firework directly at him. Your eyes desperately meet Langdon’s, hoping he’s in the same boat as you, and he gives you a similar look of bewilderment.
“Whitaker! Ahmad! Anyone!”
Langdon’s voice is strained as the man in his arms struggles against his hold. You’re using all of your strength to pull Whitaker’s patient away from your own, but he’s got at least a foot and a hundred pounds on you. Keeping him restrained is taking all of your strength. Finally, Whitaker’s shoes squeak as he slides into the room.
“Woah, what can I do?”
Langdon gives him a ludicrous look before his eyes land on you.
“Give them a hand, will ya?”
Whitaker immediately jumps in to help you. You were hoping the additional body could help even the odds with these men; however, they seem to be getting more violent by the minute. The man in your grasp reels back and shoves Whitaker, who stumbles back. Now with only you holding him back, he takes this as a chance to take a swing on Langdon.
“Absolutely not!”
You grab his arm and pull back before he can land a punch. The man lets out a desperate, angry cry and swings his arm back hard. His elbow connects with your nose with a loud crack. The room explodes further than you thought was possible as you spit out the blood draining into your mouth due to the blow. The searing hot pain blooming across your face blinds your vision.
Fuck, that hurt.
You blink once, then twice — your eyes finally adjusting to the damage. Your patient has seemingly settled down enough to be left alone, while Langdon has your assailant in a chokehold as Whitaker tries to pin his arms behind his back.
“What the hell is going on in h—?”
Robby’s words die in his throat once his eyes land on you. His face twists into concern for a brief, fleeting moment before a dangerous rage washes over his hardened features.
“Knock it off before I knock you out.”
Robby’s voice is ice cold and it suddenly pauses the entire room. The only noise filling your ears is everyone’s heavy breathing. Robby lets everyone cool down for a moment before barking out orders.
“Ahmad, get this man out of here. Whitaker, take over the patient who didn’t attack one of our nurses. Langdon, with me.”
Everyone complies instantly and you let out a relieved sigh as the tension in the room finally dissipates. Robby makes his way to you in two large strides with Langdon behind him. He drops his head to meet your eyes which have regained their comforting warmth.
“How you doing, Slugger?”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing, really.”
Robby raises a brow as you spit more blood on to the floor, narrowly missing his sneaker. Langdon gives you a similar incredulous look. Obviously, your attempts to brush off their concern have fallen on deaf ears. Great. Two hours from shift change and now you’re a patient.
This day can’t get any worse.
Robby takes another step forward and carefully places a hand on your chin and gently tilts your head up toward the ceiling. You grimace immediately at the bright, fluorescent lights above you.
“You’ve got two black eyes, a broken nose, and you’re bleeding all over the floor. This isn’t nothing.”
His voice is surprisingly gentle and his features soften into a look you can only describe as brotherly concern. You sigh defeatedly, squeezing your eyes shut as the adrenaline in your body begins to subside giving way to an invasive and persistent shooting pain in your head. Robby’s hands find your shoulders — you aren’t sure if the physical contact is meant to provide you comfort or a precaution in case you pass out. Either way, you appreciate the way his delicate hold grounds you back into this moment.
“I’m going to have Langdon take you to an empty room and do a full exam. Okay?”
You open your eyes again and nod at his question. Robby’s posture relaxes slightly, obviously relieved that you didn’t stubbornly push back against his orders. He rubs your shoulders reassuringly for a moment before speaking again.
“We’re going to have to document all of this. Dana is dealing with a situation in chairs, but I’ll have her come find you when she’s done.”
You nod again, pursing your lips together into a straight line. You don’t love the idea of making a big deal out of this, but you also know that violence against health care professionals is at an all time high. The last thing this department needs is you trying to push this under the rug. Finally, Robby releases his hold on your shoulders and allows Langdon to step in.
Robby runs both his hands through his hair as he watches Langdon lead you towards a room at the back of the ED. He moves towards the hub in the center of the large room, gripping the countertop as he allows himself a moment to gather his thoughts. This is a nightmare. He needs to call Gloria about the situation that just happened. There’s a stack of paperwork that needs to be filled out. Someone has to alert the authorities. And worst of all, he needs to call Abbot.
Hopefully, the asshole that assaulted you will be off the premises before the night shift attending rips through the emergency department. Not because he cares for the wellbeing of your assailant — more so that he doesn’t necessarily want to bail his best friend out of jail tonight. Robby sighs as he digs his phone out of his pocket. He finds Jack’s contact easily in his favorites and presses the speaker to his ear. To his surprise, the call immediately goes to voicemail. Robby knows that Jack has the day off; however, he’s always easy to reach — especially if you’re on shift. So, he dials the number again and presses the phone to his ear. But just like before, he is once again met with Jack’s voice apologizing for missing the call. That’s odd. His brow furrows, but before he can think about his friend’s odd behavior further he’s distracted by a concerned voice behind him.
“I heard about what happened. Dana’s almost done in chairs. How can I help?”
Robby turns to look at Perlah who is currently trying to catch her breath from her obvious sprint over to him.
“Do you know who their emergency contact is?”
If he can’t get ahold of Jack, he might as well let your other loved ones know what happened. Perlah side steps the attending and logs in to one of the computers on the other side of the counter. It only takes a couple seconds to pull up your digital file and a smile spreads across the nurse’s features as she spots the name listed.
“Abbot.”
Of course he is.
“I can’t get a hold of him.”
Perlah’s expression reflects his own confusion for a moment until she remembers a conversation she had with you in the break room earlier this morning.
“He’s gone fishing.”
Robby’s eyes shoot to his hairline as a laugh bubbles in his chest. He attempts to picture his friend in a boat by himself on the river with a fishing rod in his hand, but his mind cannot seem to compute that absolutely ludicrous concept.
“Abbot is fishing?”
“Apparently they convinced Abbot to actually take a day off, put his phone on do not disturb, and find a hobby that doesn’t involve getting shot at.”
Robby’s eyes drift to the room he watched Langdon escort you to as he attempts to wrap his head around the information he was just given. Jack Abbot is fishing on his rare day off because you asked him to find a hobby that doesn’t involve putting himself in harm’s way — and he listened. He wants to be impressed, but instead he’s just annoyed at the two of you — he’s fucking tired of watching the two of you dance around your feelings for one another. He looks down at his phone again, still confused at how his paranoid best friend could actually relax when he’s unreachable while you’re still on the clock.
Oh.
The realization hits him like a slap to the face and he looks up at Perlah who is still anxiously waiting for the attending to start barking out orders.
“Do you think you can manage to get their phone?”
Perlah frowns for a moment, confused by his question. And then her face lights up as she comes to the same realization as the attending standing in front of her. A smile pulls at her lips as she nods at Robby’s request.
“I think I can manage that.”
Jack Abbot enters the emergency department like a hurricane — his presence immediately disrupting the fragile peace they’ve managed to establish since your assault. Robby meets him at the door, stopping him before he can cause any unnecessary damage.
“Where is she?”
Robby frowns. Abbot’s voice is lacking its usual warmth — in its place is a fiery, impatient intensity.
“Let’s just cool down for a second. She’s alright — getting checked out by Langdon as we speak. Okay, Jack?”
Abbot’s brown eyes darken at Robby’s words. His posture stiffens and he’s suddenly aware that he’s no longer looking at his best friend. No, the man standing before him is a devoted soldier with one mission and God help anyone who gets in his way — he certainly isn’t dumb enough to stand between the two of you.
“Exam room 11.”
Abbot brushes past Robby without another word and marches toward the back of the emergency department. He finally feels like he can breathe again as he enters the doorway and watches Langdon press an icepack to your nose. You flinch away from him and Frank lets out an exasperated sigh.
“You are a horrible patient.”
“Well, you’re a horrible nurse. You have to be gentle.”
Abbot leans against the doorframe, his body relaxing now that he’s heard the sound of your voice. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips at your defiance. Eventually, Langdon pulls the icepack away from your face and his blood runs cold as he gets a look at your injuries. It takes every ounce of what’s left of his self control to stay put, instead of forcing Robby to let him know who did this to you.
“I’ve got it from here, Langdon. You can get back to work.”
Both of your heads snap towards the attending standing in the doorway, but Jack’s eyes never leave yours. He watches as your expression shifts from confusion to relief before taking a few steps into the small exam room.
“Hey, Abbot. I’m actually almost done here. The rest of the exam will only take a minute.”
Jack finally regards the other man in the room, but his demeanor shifts to annoyance as Langdon continues to occupy your personal space — as he watches another man’s fingers glide gently over your cheek while he’s standing right there. The sight makes him sick to his stomach as a pervasive, ugly feeling claws at his chest.
“Langdon. Out. Now.”
Langdon’s movements suddenly still and the room immediately feels too small for the three of you. Luckily, the resident does what Jack says and exits the room without sparing you a second glance. Jack’s cold demeanor melts as soon as he hears the door close behind Langdon.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Jack’s voice fills the room and you finally feel safe. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you hear his boots take careful, calculated footsteps move towards you. This is a dream — it must be. Jack’s fishing today, unreachable until after your shift ends. But then he’s standing in front of you, invading your personal space in a way that’s so undeniably him. You finally look up, meeting his piercing gaze and you swear his jaw ticks slightly as he takes in the full extent of your injuries.
“It looks worse than it is.”
It’s a lie, but all you want is to smooth out the worried creases on his forehead. Jack tilts his head slightly at your words — considering them for a moment. His hands move slowly allowing you time to pull away, but you let him cradle your face with a tenderness that feels misplaced in this environment. His thumb gently brushes under your eye, where deep purple bruising has made its temporary home, and you flinch away from his touch before he even makes it to the worst of your injuries. Jack pulls his hands away from you and you involuntarily frown — a smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he watches the way you chase his touch.
“Do me a favor?”
You nod at his question — not fully trusting your voice at this moment. Jack bows his head slightly, meeting you eye to eye. His gaze is a raging wildfire of emotions. It’s a stark contrast to his calm demeanor and steady hands.
“Don’t lie to me.”
You roll your eyes at this as he stands to his full height again. His hands find their way back to you again, settling on your knees as he begins assessing your injuries further. You lean in closer to him without even thinking about it — it’s like Jack Abbot is the sun and you’re simply a planet trapped in his orbit.
“How are you here?”
Jack’s brows knit together at your question, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. His thumb absentmindedly rubs gentle, grounding circles against your scrubs as his gaze trails over every visible wound on your face.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re supposed to be fishing.”
His face scrunches at your words, but he doesn’t stop his careful assessment of your condition.
“I got a call.”
“Your phone was on do not disturb — you were unreachable.”
“To everyone other than you.”
Your breath catches in your chest at his words. He says it nonchalantly, but the significance of that statement lands harder than the elbow you took to the face. You’re the only person that Jack would let interrupt his day off. Hell, you’re the only reason he took a day off to begin with.
“But how… Perlah.”
Jack’s head tilts as he watches you put the pieces together. Not too long after Langdon got you into the exam room, Perlah found the two of you. She helped Langdon with the exam for a few minutes before cursing that her phone had died before she made an important call. You had offered her your own, thinking nothing of the interaction. But now you understand exactly what transpired when Perlah left with your cell.
“Yeah, scared me half to death when it wasn’t your voice on the other end.”
Your frown deepens at that. You can only imagine the fear that clawed its way back into Jack’s chest — can only imagine the unwanted memories it brought up. Your eyes glance down at his left hand, where a silver wedding band permanently resides. You remember the morning on the roof when Jack finally told you about his late wife after a particularly difficult shift. The two of you had lost a young woman whose vehicle had been struck by a drunk driver. You watched Jack go above and beyond for the woman in a way you’d never seen before. And you noticed the way his entire demeanor shifted once he had to call it after an hour of compressions. Jack slipped out of the ED the moment that the day shift showed up and you followed after once you completed handoff. You found Jack on the edge of the roof — not surprising on any other day, but a concerning visual after what you just witnessed that night. He knew you’d find him — you always do. And as you took your usual place, leaning your elbows against the railing right behind him, he finally opened up about the worst day he’s ever experienced. You listened as he told you about how his wife was in an accident. How she was dead on impact and EMS found her phone on the scene. How Jack was her only emergency contact. How he despises that the last time his wife called him he never even got to hear her voice. How he knows he’s your emergency contact. How his heart can’t go through that again.
“I’m sorry, Jack. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry about me on your day off.”
Jack’s brow furrows at your words.
“Sweetheart, all I do when I’m not with you is worry.”
You both let that sentence linger in the room for a few moments. Jack continues to trace shapes into your shrubs as you attempt to calm your nerves as you realize how intimate this conversation feels. Finally, Jack breaks the silence.
“Can you just come back to the night shift so I can stop freaking out every time my phone rings throughout the day?”
You almost smile at that.
“Donnie comes back in two weeks.”
You mean for that to be comforting; however, this only makes Jack’s body stiffen in response. His head drops as he lets out a long sigh.
“Two weeks is too long.”
“You’re not my boss, Jack.”
Jack pulls his hands away and you watch as he runs them through his short, grey curls. He looks exhausted — and you suddenly feel guilty that his relaxing day off has turned into this.
“You’re right, but sweetheart, I can’t do this without you anymore.”
A part of you wants to throttle him because of that nickname and how easily it falls off his lips — how it’ll only feel right when it’s his voice saying it to you.
“Do what?”
Jack looks at you and his face twists into confusion as he realizes your question is genuine.
“Get through the fucking night.”
A beat passes. You desperately want to just say yes. It’s what you want isn’t it? Returning to the night shift — returning to him. But that’s also the problem. What is this? You thought your switch to day shift would give you some sort of explanation, but your time away has only made you more confused. Would it actually just be easier if the two of you only saw each other during handoff? No domestic moments between cups of coffee, no more mornings spent side-by-side on the rooftop, no more stolen, fleeting touches as he passes you on your way to the hub. You know what you are to Robby — to everyone on day shift. It’s simple. But with Jack — it’s never been simple and maybe that’s the problem.
“What if I want to stay on the day shift?”
Jack recoils like you just threw a punch at him. Guilt claws up your throat as you watch his face fall. It’s a lie — you know that it is. You love everything about the night shift, but you also don’t know how much longer you can keep playing this game with Jack before you simply fall apart.
“Why would you want that?”
“Because at least I know where I stand with everyone here.”
Jack’s brow furrows — you hate that it’s cute. That everything about him draws you in.
“You don’t know where you stand with me?”
You shake your head and he scoffs — the sound is surprisingly cold. He looks at you, brow pinched into a scowl. And then he realizes that you’re serious. Your expression is nothing but unashamed honesty and his head cocks to the side at that. Do you really think he’s been stringing you along this entire time? That this has all been meaningless flirtation? That you mean nothing to him?
He takes a step forward, slotting himself between your knees. Your breath catches as he reaches up and gently cradles your face. His touch is different than before — all professionalism has been cast aside and is now replaced with his overwhelming adoration. Without thinking your fingers grab the hem of his black t-shirt. He smiles as he feels you nervously pick at a loose stitch before he ducks his head and his lips finally meet your own. Your grip on his t-shirt tightens as he moves his hands through your hair. Now this is a dream. The kiss is soft and restrained — you know he’s holding back due to your injuries. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. Jack pulls away too soon for your liking, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he places his forehead against yours.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been yours since the minute you walked through the fucking door.”
You bite your lip as you attempt to hold back the giddy grin that begs to spread itself across your face.
“You never said anything.”
Jack pulls away at that, not far — just enough to get a good look at you. The look on his face is incredulous — like it’s absurd you don’t know that his entire life revolves around you at this point.
“I thought I made myself abundantly clear.”
You laugh at that and Jack steals a kiss from your lips just because he can.
“I take it Robby gave you the rest of the day off?”
You nod, smiling as you feel Jack thread his fingers through yours.
“He told me to go home after Langdon finished my exam — who you should apologize to.”
Jack’s jaw clenches slightly as his brow furrows.
“Him being here was unnecessary.”
You watch him for a moment, trying to understand what happened between the two men that never seemed to have any sort of animosity prior to today. And then your hand tightens around Jack’s as you realize what happened.
“You were jealous.”
Jack rolls his eyes.
“I have no reason to be jealous.”
You raise a brow at his statement. He’s not wrong — he has no reason to be jealous of Frank Langdon, but you know the resident somehow got under his skin. He may be able to maintain his facade of nonchalance to the rest of his staff, but you see right through him.
“What makes you so confident?”
“Because Langdon isn’t the one taking you home right now, is he?”
Thinking about in S4 when they’re at family dinner eating ribs and Deran is like ‘Pope, slow down.’ Imagine reader lovesss to cook and on his days he fights in the ring, you always make sure Pope comes home to a big homemade meal. You’re skipping around butt ass naked in a lil’ frilly white apron with strawberries all over it - and pretty red pumps to match. Each time you walk over to top off his water or replace his beer, he grabs a handful of your ass. He massages it while you dote on him, and gives it a smack as you saunter back to the kitchen - leaving fingerprints of whatever sauce he’s been sucking off his fingers on your ass cheek. 🥵
In the morning you’d make him an omelette with bacon and eggs, coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice. You set it down in front of him with a couple advil and a sweet kiss to his cheek. When he’s done, you take his empty plate and start the dishes. He comes up behind you and spins you around to face him. His beefy, veiny arms lift you on top of the counter.
“What are you-? Andrew!” You squeal, squeezing his shoulders tight while he picks you up like it’s nothing.
“Not finished eating, baby. Need something sweet.” He crouches down til he’s eye level with your pussy. He looks up at you with intense, hazel eyes surrounded by swollen cuts and purple bruises. His eyes are glassy as he holds your gaze for a moment, before diving into your glistening cunt. Your hands reach for his curls, tugging them as your back arches against the kitchen cabinets.
He eats your pussy like he didn’t just have breakfast seconds, just absolutely fucking devours it. He’s swirling his tongue around your folds while sucking on your puffy clit. And while he looks all dark and brooding with his injuries, he gets insecure and keeps looking up at you every so often to ensure he’s making you feel good.
“Oh Andy, yes! Right there,” you moan, giving him the reassurance he needs. He pulls away to put one finger - then two - into your sopping cunt. His chest vibrates with a low groan watching you clench around his thick digits, the squelching sound music to his ears. He puts his mouth back on your clit, resuming his previous movements while pumping his fingers in and out of you. It’s slow at first to get you used to them, and then he picks up the pace and curls his fingers, eliciting a particularly high pitched whine from you. You push his head down a little out of excitement, shoving his face deeper into your weepy pussy.
Pretty soon you’re coming undone on his mouth and fingers, legs squirming over his shoulders. He eats you through your orgasm, lapping and slurping up every last drop. When he’s finished he licks his fingers, savoring the taste of you. He was right, you were sweet. He presses soft kisses against the insides of your shaky thighs, nuzzling his nose into the plushy skin. He stands and helps you climb off the counter.
“Wrap your legs ‘round me, sweet girl.” You do as you’re told and wrap your legs around his waist. “Come on baby, let’s get you cleaned up.” Safe to say you had round two in the shower - back pressed against the ceramic tile while he’s holding you up off the ground in the position you’re in now - fucking up into you and tearing up when he cums inside because he just can’t believe he has the love of a woman like you.
You're still pretty young, there's at least a 20-30 year age gap (Jesus that disgusting old man). You started being a resident at the pitt around the same time as langdon, drifting through the night and day shift to adjust to your own needs outside of work. You both had already been married a while now, not wanting to waste any time while the clock ticks away. Despite working in the same space it never really clicked to anyone else that you guys were together- you both kept it pretty covered up. (Mostly your decision since it was a little embarrassing to say 'yes I actually love him' and spend hours defending yourself about not being a gold digger).
So to help keep the secret safe, you had a nickname used instead of your last name. Similar to how everyone calls Michael 'Robby'.
While working a fuck ass crazy shift, full of angry patients and escalating drama, you somehow lost your name tag. "Probably got tugged off when that psychosis guy came in" Whitaker murmured with a small scrunch of his nose; knowing exactly how annoying it is whenever that sort of stuff happens.
You spent hours searching around for it, even peeking around one of the trash bins embarrassingly. It stretched all the way until the shifts were being handed off to the 'Night Crawlers', a small sigh of relief leaving your shoulders at the sight of Jack coming in through the emergency doors with a bag slung over his shoulder and a nice fit black tee. You both gave each other a soft smile and nod, knowing you'll give each other a small kiss 'Hello' and 'Goodbye' in the storage closet in a few minutes.
All seemed hopeless in the search of the name tag, the one you managed to keep tucked in your pocket well enough for nobody to sneak a peek long enough at your last name printed boldly on the front.
"Hey wait I think I found it-" Santos huffed from behind you on one of the computer desks as she reached between one of those stupid cracks between the desk and the other office trinkets stuffed into the space.
Your face dropping like a ghost when she does in deed find it and give it a good look before you're able to snatch it out of her hands
"Your last name is Abbot??!"
Her face wide with a smile full of shock and disbelief.
Her voice was quiet enough not to cause a scene but it definitely made Jack's ears perk up- oblivious to the fact that their little secret had been made out as he struts over to the desk.
Your cheeks flushed in a scarlet rose as you notice jack start to walk towards the desks.
"uh- yeah yeah it's um a family name"
You stammer, knowing damn well this'll probably go further than you want it to
"Really?? Wait so are you and Dr Abbot related?"
Is all Jack hears from Trinity's lips as he steps up with an iPad in hand and his readers resting on the tip of his nose. Taking note of the hot flush on your cheeks and the badge held in Trinity's hand.
"Well yes we are if you must know"
His tone played off as a bit cocky, knowing exactly how to mess with you while also still technically covering up their little ring secret.
Your cheeks still tinted a deep pink as you give Jack a confused look with your hands nervously clinging to the hem of your shirt.
"I'm her dad. Ain't that right kiddo? We try to keep it under wraps though. Little thing, gets embarrassed when people know she works with her old man"
He tilts his chin up at you with a small nod, a little smirk on his lips as his gaze lands on your soft pink cheeks that seem to have gotten a bit more flushed than before. He knew damn well how to play with your daddy issues- there was a reason for that fat rock on your finger after all.
A/N: lowkey haven't written fanfic in months but I've been obsessing over peepaw Shawn for a while now and I gotta share my filthy brains ideas somehow 👅
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synopsis Robby is known to speak before he thinks sometimes, but when the cost of his words is losing you, he’s rather die (6.6k words)
warningheavy angst, language, hospital stuff, mention of drowning, near death experience, robby is constipated emotionally as always, jack to the rescue, kinda yearning Jack if you squint, inaccurate medical practices I am noooo doctor!
authornotethannk you so much for the request!!! and thank you for your kind words! I had so much fun writing, I think angst is probably my favourite to write over anything especially when Robby is the one yearning. I hope you liked! (Gif credits @emziess :)
Pitt masterlist Last robby fic!
As a resident in the Emergency Department there was a lot you knew.
You knew that preeclampsia effected about eight percent of all pregnant women worldwide. You knew how to intubate and had in fact done so many in your time at PTMC that you were sure you could do it with your eyes closed. You knew that in the bottom draw of Dana's select spot at the nurses station was a pack of nicotine gum hardly used because Dana thought they were a bunch of bull; in spite of the literal doctors orders.
You knew there was a leaky faucet in the women's bathrooms that drove everyone insane when they went in there to steal a moment's peace. You knew the computer in central fourteen was the faultiest one which was why you avoided charting in there all together.
So you knew there must have been a reason why Noelle from insurance was biding her time with your new boyfriend. There must have been a reason why he was grinning big at her like he hadn't with you for days.
“Hey!” said Samira falling at your side at the counter.
You were still too distracted by the two to even tear your gaze away and look at her. “Hey.”
Samira followed your eyeline. “You're staring, you know that?”
You nodded.
Robby rubbed at the side of his face as his cheeks flushed, Noelle shifted her weight onto her other heeled foot- apparently getting herself comfortable.
“Who is that, again?” asked Doctor Mohan.
“Noelle. She's from insurance.”
Samira nodded. “Noelle from insurance. Annnd do we like Noelle, from insurance?”
At that you realised just how transparent your glares might have been.
“Oh, you know,” you mumbled, finally looking back down to your tablet that had grown dark in the absence of movement. “It's our job to like everyone.”
Santos passed by you then, dropping herself down into your favourite chair in exhaustion. “Not everyone.”
“So we're all having a great day, I see,” you commented, sarcastically. However the sardonic tone of your voice was over-saturated with a loud laugh.
Your head practically snapped up to see Noelle laughing at something Robby had said. Even his face was scrunched up at his joke. You watched as Noelle's hand darted to his bicep, playfully hitting him in a way that could only be recognised as flirting.
You watched as Robby looked down to her hand on him and then he looked up, finding you and finding your watchful gaze. Only then did the pink in his cheeks subside and the wrinkles of amusement die.
“Didn't they have a thing before you and him got together?” asked Santos.
You sighed. “Yes, they did, thank you, Trinity.”
“Hey, just trying to be helpful.”
“Save it for the patients,” you said.
Robby took one step in your direction but you'd already dismissed yourself from Santos and Mohan, walking the ward like it was a battle field.
But you could hear your boyfriends heavy boots close behind you.
“Don't do that,” he said, calling after you.
“Do what? See a patient?”
“It's not what you think,” he said.
“Of course it's not,” you said, trying your best to be indifferent.
You knew about Noelle and Robby's history, just as you knew about his and Heathers, and his and the pathologist from upstairs, and the one from ortho. You knew and you understood, heck you'd even been around to joke about with Landon. Robby's famous seven-week itch.
Rumour had it before he finally got to hold your hand and kiss you whenever he liked he'd been trying to nail you down for years, but you weren't sure how much you believed.
It had been nine months, maybe closer to ten since you and Robby had officially started seeing each other. It was the real boyfriend-girlfriend deal where you could call each other at any moments of the day, could get take out together and discuss the boring things together.
Yet, you did none of that.
Robby and you didn't talk.
You fucked- but only each other. You worked on cases together- strictly professional. On the days where you were desperate there was an on-call room Robby could book out and steal time away with you.
But you didn't remember the last time you'd laughed like that with him.
“It's not,” said Robby again.
“Of course it's not.”
Robby sighed, falling closer behind you. “Well, it doesn't really sound like you believe me.”
“I believe you,” you said. “Do I believe Noelle...”
“Oh, c'mon,” Robby chuckled, like the very idea of them was ridiculous. Like the two of you didn't begin where they ended. “You seriously gonna be hung up on that?”
“Don't,” you warn, shaking your head.
You reached for an exam room door, where a sixteen year old boy was complaining of migraines but Robby grabbed your wrist and stirred you away.
“You wanna argue, not here,” he said.
“I don't want to argue.”
Robby led you out to the ambulance bay. Any nurses stealing a couple minutes of peace quickly diverted back in and even ambulances seemed to divert away. He let go of you, standing away and folding his arms over his chest, defensive. “So come on, tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“You're mad because I was talking to Noelle- about a case, might I add,” he said. There was nothing soft in his tone, nothing that calmed your nerves on edge. He said it all like it was a joke that he already knew the punchline to.
You rubbed at your temple. “You can talk to Noelle about cases, of course you can-”
“- Oh, thank you, glad I have your permission,” he chuckled.
“Can you just not be a dick about this, for once!” you snapped.
Robby's brows rose to his head, almost shocked at your snap at him. He held out his hands. “Okay, I'm not being a dick.”
“You are, and it's like sometimes you don't even realise.”
His hands were worn with the mornings patients and you could see the stress he tried to hide away as he wiped up and down his face.
You took a deep breath. “Robby, if you don't want this to work out all you have to do is say.” You said it, un-sure if you even meant it. Un-sure that you could ever go back to who you were before meeting Robby, let alone sharing in his life. In the small moments grabbing take out together and eating it on his sofa. In the mornings where you both naturally woke up early enough to just admire each other before you had to get to work.
Robby chuckled dryly, hands on his hips. “Oh my god, all of this because I spoke to another woman?”
“Because you laughed with her like you haven't with me for weeks!” you argued.
For once, Robby was silent.
You told yourself after the seven week mark that it would be any day now, that he'd tell you you were better off friends; colleagues. Every day and week it didn't come, every month he got more comfortable in your bed you figured you'd easily get rid of him in your life as easily as you welcomed him.
Now you stood across from him in the early morning light of the ambulance bay knowing if he left you now you'd never get back on your feet again.
“I see the way Noelle looks at you, how the others from upstairs do to,” you begin.
Robby shook his head, something earnest in his gaze. “They're not- they don't-”
“- I know, I know,” you said, cutting him off with a grimace of a smile. “ ”I know you don't love them, Robby. I'm just not sure you love me either.”
As un-cultured as you were with your own relationships you weren't sure when the right time to say I love you was. You knew Santos had said it to Garcia drunk one night and woke up with regret pinning her to the bed. You knew Dana and Benji had said it to each other a week in. You knew you loved Robby before you even kissed him.
Robby looked down to his boots, shaking his head. “That's not fair.”
Your heart pinched. “I know I love you, Robby. But I can't watch all these woman over you and-and wonder.”
“Your insecurities are not my fault!” Robby snapped.
You knew he didn't mean it, or hoped he didn't. You knew in the very small arguments you'd had that he spoke without thinking and came grovelling back.
Maybe it was worse this time because you knew it was the truth. You knew these women- his ex something's- didn't get to see Robby in the early mornings and be the last thing he spoke to at night. You knew Robby wasn't inviting them into his self, but he wasn't pushing them away either.
They'd all been quick, snaps of bands on wrists. You were supposed to be something more.
Maybe you weren't.
Biting on the inside of your cheek, you felt the familiar burning in your chest, rising up to your neck.
“Okay.” You held yourself tight, heading past him and to the doors that were already welcoming you back.
Robby was hot on your heels, quicker even as he pushed himself ahead of you. “No, no, no- hey- wait, no I-I didn't mean that.” His eyes were wide, hands held out in front of you, not quite clasped together, pointing to the sky but pleading none the less.
“We shouldn't talk about this now, Robby-”
“- I- we... honey, please.”
He stood in between you and the doors. Beyond him you saw the chaos of the room, the charts being passed, the labs being reported. The world still turned.
Robby's hands fell to your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms. “Let me- jus' let me-let me-”
“Hey! You two!”
Robby didn't jump apart from you, he squeezed your arms tighter as the two of you looked back to Dana who rushed out, wisps of grey hair falling around her. “What is it?”
“There's been a crash down the docks, all hands on deck!”
You thought you knew chaos, having seen all sorts of terror and oddities in the Pitt but the scenes at the dock were nothing like it. A complication with a boat, an explosion- small enough- rattled ferries and had them crashing into one another like terrible scene of dominoes.
Heck, you weren't even sure if the docks were safe to be standing on.
There were fire trucks and ambulances that didn't just respond to PTMC but Presby too. Police were corning off the area, talking to any witnesses but everyone blurred in one as you weaved in and out of them.
You'd been sent as an emergency respondent thanks to how level-headed and sturdy you were in the Pittfest. You still remembered how Robby nominated you as well as Whitaker to go with some from surgery, his eyes dark on you, a trusting nod passed before you were handed a jacket and pushed into an ambulance.
You'd already pulled a sheet over three bodies, one of them too small for your liking.
“Any for me?” asked a first emergency responder, you think his name was Spencer, catching it in the rig you caught a ride in. “We can take two.”
“Yeah!” you yelled and led him away. “This guy, approximately in his thirties, head lack to the right, needs to go to surgery immediately. This woman, late twenties, lost consciousness, possible pelvic bleed but she's stabilised, need's a ultrasound.”
“Got it!”
You'd gone through almost all the gloves you had in your pockets. There was blood seeping into your scrub uniform at your knees. You'd forgone your coat to a little girl who took an ambulance back with her mother, trembling from the cold.
A steady, firm hand settled between your shoulder blades.
“How you holding on, Slugger?”
Your heart soared in relief when you recognised Jack's voice, felt his steady hand and saw his easy smile in the middle of all the pain.
“Jack, thank god. Are you here with your team?” you asked, eying the uniform he was in.
“Yeah, we came to secure the area, doing everything I can to help,” he said, the two of you nudging your way through the people, stepping over the rubble and pools of water or blood. “How you holding up?”
“Lost three,” you told him.
Jack looked down at you, the weight of his gaze always heavy. “And how many you saved, huh? Focus on that number.”
The wind picked up, sending a chill over your bones.
“Hey, where's your jacket?” asked Jack, a frown taking over his features.
You chuckled. “Probably half way to Presby by now, think we've handed off all the traumas PTMC can take.”
Jack tutted and shook his head aside. “I reckon they've got one more in them.”
You didn't know how you and Jack had got so close, somewhere along the lines of hand-offs and covering night shifts you just always gravitated toward each other, working well and saving lives. Every daring procedure you'd taken was with him over your shoulder only for him to go and boast about you to Robby later.
Jack led you to Robby, for that you always had to be thankful.
“Hey! I've got a guy seizing over here!”
With your case in hand the two of you rushed off.
The man seemed middle-aged with no obvious wound to him as you and Jack took either side. The man was at the edge of the docks, the crashing of the waves fighting against you as you worked to stablilse him.
Jack steadied him. “Check if there's any medication on him! It might be a disorder!”
You checked, coming up empty pocketed. You fumbled in your bag and tried your pockets before finding the vial and clean needle. “Pushing diazepam!”
With five cc's in his seizing slowed to dull twitches.
“We need a back board and neck brace,” said Jack, looking around to try and flag down anyone.
Nobody was catching your eyes. This close to the water you were out of the way of most of the chaos.
“Go!” you told Jack. “I'll stay with him, make sure he doesn't sieze again.”
Jack's brows pinched together for a second. “You sure?”
You nodded. Your hands remained on your patient, feeling his tremors and already timing his pulse with your watch. “I've got it, go!”
In hind sight you should have thought about the implications. You'd been grabbed and yelled at and spat at in the ED by less sever patients but once you'd been attacked by a man who just woke up from a seizure, dazed and confused and naming you his enemy.
Robby had never been so close to murder.
It took weeks for the bruises to go down, for your hand to heal properly from the fall and you were on bed rest for a week.
You knew what it meant to be alone with a patient, but sometimes you supposed it couldn't be helped.
The diazepam should have helped- you've seen it help- but soon enough the man started twitching, slow at first, before it started to fit and his whole body moved.
He was a strong man. You weren't.
“It's okay, sir- sir!” you threw your weight against him to hold him still, wonder what you can do to stop him biting down on his tongue with the little equipment you had.
The man was mumbling to himself, thrashing violently.
“C'mon Jack, c'mon-”
It only took a wide sweep of the mans arm to send you hurtling back and crashing into the icy water.
The sky was darkening by the time Robby counted off his thirtieth patient of the day. Twenty-five of them had been from the incident at the docks. Only one he couldn't save, two sent up to the OR.
He counted the patients, counted the hours that ticked by, counted every ambulance that came by not carrying you. He'd expected you back by now, expected to have a little piece of mind with seeing you back in his eyeline.
Robby's heart was being squeezed progressively as the day went on, ever since he'd snapped and said words he never even meant.
Every second, passing from patient to patient and tearing off gloves to replace them with clean ones he checked his phone for any update from you.
Nothing.
You must have been busy down there.
But just three ambulances ago Whitaker returned saying he lost sight of you practically immediately.
So where the hell were you?
“Hey, Dana-” he called, rounding on the nurses station.
She looked as dishevelled as he felt, wisps of hair, dark circles under her eyes.
“Can you get a hold of transport, ask where the hell is my resident.”
“I just got off the phone with them, Robby-” she reached over and placed a hand on his, the one that had been tapping relentlessly. “She's on her way in now.”
Before Robby could even wonder why Dana had to hold his hand to tell him, why her eyes were glassed over and her voice trembled to tell him the doors bust open.
“Robby!” Jack yelled out.
He turned, catching sight of his old friend, the greying hair damp and sticking to his skin. He was half dressed in SWAT gear, his jacket discarded and bits of tinfoil falling from his shoulders. Jack was set over a gurney, hammering down on a chest and going in for CPR the old fashioned way.
“What happened? You fall in-”
Robby got to the other side of the gurney and breath caught in his chest.
“She's been down thirty- thirty-five minutes, I dunno, man,” said Jack as he continued hammering down on your chest.
It was you. Blue in the face and eyes closed, droplets of water at your lashes. Your hair was turning to ice fanned out underneath you. He'd been running his hand through your hair just that morning, had he not. There was a blanket, maybe two, thrown over you but your body only reacted to the thumping Jack delivered on your chest, pinching your nose to breath down your open mouth.
This morning you'd been warm, so warm, with a leg thrown over his hips in attempts to keep him in your bed. And he'd been close, so close to burying himself in your warmth.
He didn't even have to touch you to know you were cold.
“I found her- in the water- pulled her out-” gasped Jack as he continued compressions.
“What do you mean in the water?” asked Robby, surprising himself by how calm he sounded.
“She- she fell, or-or something, I dunno man-”
“You don't know?” he snapped. “Why isn't she bagged?”
“We ran out,” said the paramedic pushing you in.
“You ran out?!”
“Robby- Robby!” Dana's hands were on his chest, keeping him at bay before Robby even knew what he was going to do.
Robby shook her off. “What's open?”
“Trauma two just got cleaned up-”
He grabbed the gurney and pushed you into the room. The weight of Jack on top of you trying to save your life squeaking the wheels against the floor not long wiped from blood. Robby was aware of other voices, of people wondering if that was Jack and was it... no... it couldn't have been.
The doors closed behind a team of people all teaming in, stuttering when they saw you.
“Hook her up!” ordered Robby, ignoring any protocol of gowns and gloves. If he was going to get you back he was going to feel the beat of your heart under his palms. “Jack, move!”
Jack slowly climbed down and Robby jumped up next, quickly taking over compressions.
He remembered kissing down your chest, hiding himself there on mornings he wanted to steal away five minutes, pulling the covers up past the two of you. How he was breaking ribs to keep you alive. “Somebody get a bag on her, now!”
“She's- she's been down a long time,” said Jack, catching his breath.
Robby thumped down on your chest, kidding himself with the dull flutter of your eyelashes, knowing it was only through the force of his hammering down on you. “She's alive.”
“Jesus, Jack, you're as cold as ice,” said Dana from somewhere behind Robby.
“I'm fine,” he dismissed. “Robby, you shouldn't be working on her, brother.”
Others in the room stopped, hearing that.
It was protocol family waited outside, that if family or friends ever came in demanding help the same DNA did not attend. They were too emotionally clouded. To invested to think straight. The last time Robby found himself in this situation: blood pumping in his ears, chest tight was trying to save Jake's girlfriends life.
He'd failed.
The only person to pull him back from that was you.
There'd be nobody if you didn't pull through. He'd be left in that pedes room, never to leave.
“Robby!” Jack tried again.
“Shut up and get me some warm saline!”
“Oh, no,” said Jack, walking around till he was on the other side of your gurney. “No, I'm not going anywhere.”
Robby was still pressing his hands down on your chest when Jack reached over, past the bag they'd finally clamped over on you, and stroked back your hair.
“We're gonna get you through this,” he uttered in an oddly tender moment.
“We need to get a central line in her,” said Matteo.
Jack looked at Robby. “Brother.”
“No.”
“You have to move, we need to get a line in her.”
Robby knew that. He knew so much as a doctor, as chief attending. But he couldn't stop, he physically couldn't bring himself to.
“Robby, man, you gotta let go.”
“I can't... I can't... I can't...” he said. The only thing keeping him sane was the one, two, three, four count in his head, was the cold feeling of your flesh under his hands. “Push three milligrams of epi.”
Jack huffed in frustration, probably the only thing keeping him warm. He marched around your bed to his side. “Robby, so help me god I will drag you out of here if you don't let her go!”
“I can't!” he yelled.
It was selfish but Robby had some how convinced himself he could be selfish with you. He could hold on tighter in the mornings and let you go for the rest of the day. He could watch patients get close to you because he knew it was him who got to kiss you. He could hold back the worst parts of himself to keep you, no matter how much it tore him apart to push you away on the days he wanted to be closest.
No, Robby could never let you go.
If you ever tried to leave him, he'd hold on tighter.
Robby dropped his voice low. “I can't.”
Jack took in a slow breath, a gentle hand on Robby's bicep. “Okay. Okay. You don't have to let her go... but to save her you have to move aside.”
A monitor somewhere in the room beeped.
Slowly, Robby moved from your chest.
The people swarmed you. Someone cut into you, getting a central line in on your other side.
Robby stayed where he was, a hand holding yours tightly as if he could squeeze his own life into yours. He cried- maybe loudly- at the feel of how cold you were.
“What's her temp?” asked Jack.
“Eighty.”
Robby looked up to the monitor reading your vitals. “That's- that's too low.”
“We're getting her warmed up.”
“Get the warm saline.”
“We are.”
Robby leaned over you once the line was placed, brushing back your hair and trying desperately to ignore how cold you were. “You're not dead, you're not,” he said, low for you. Your vitals may have been saying different. “You're not dead.”
“Doctor Robby-”
“Please,” he begged with trembling lips. “Please, don't do this to me.”
A monitor sung low and dry. The classic song of a flatline.
His head jerked up.
Jack caught his stupor and pushed him from you, sending him into Dana's ready hold. “She's going into V-fib!”
Dana held Robby. Physically she wasn't strong enough to hold him back but Robby wasn't strong enough to fight against her. “Robby... Robby, c'mon, let's wait outside.”
He was shaking his head.
“Panels, charge to three hundred!” called out Jack.
Dana had just managed to push him out the doors as he shouted clear!
Through the glass Robby watched your body jerk but not respond.
“Please, please, please,” he uttered. His back hit the nurses station, his knees giving out as he slowly slid and sank to the floor.
“Okay, okay,” muttered Dana, falling with him and holding him there.
The Pitt seemed to stand still at the sight of their boss, white faced and hands trembling, brushing back his hair. Noise travelled quick, that it was you in the bed, ribs breaking from compressions, chest hurting from the shock.
Robby's hands clasped in front of him, his star of David chain clenched in his hands. “Please.... she can't do this to me, please.”
Dana tugged on his body, bringing him in closer. With her sharp gaze she pushed everyone else that dared try and get closer away. “C'mon, Robby, she's strong, you know that. And stubborn like hell, huh?”
Robby nodded along with her words, un-sure if he could believe it.
“Charge again, three hundred, let's go!” called Jack, rubbing the panels before everyone backed up. “Clear!”
There was a small beep, a pick up in the line.
“There! Resume compressions!”
“Doctor Robby!” Santos ran up, her gown like a cape around her. She slowed to a stop in front of the two slumped. “Dana. Dana, is it- is it true, is it?”
Robby looked up, tear stained cheeks red.
“Yeah, kid,” said Dana, sadly.
Santo's jaw trembled before she shook her head in resolute, saying one simple word. No. Then she stormed into the room.
Robby knew you favoured Santos and somewhere along the way Robby had come to look for her when an interesting case came in. He came to favour the way you smiled at Santos when she did things right and Robby searched for any smile he could get from you.
So, he pushed himself up on shaky legs and followed her in- back into the chaos that was your room. The blankets had slipped from your body in the shocks and he desperately tried to hold himself back from fixing them.
“Doctor Abbot-” said a nurse or a intern or someone in the room. “It's been thirty minutes.”
“Hold compressions.”
Robby knew it was to check your pulse but he winced when they paused, when your body didn't respond.
“Still asystole, resume compressions.” Jack caught Robby's gaze.
He'd seen that look on Jack's face. Had seen the hopelessness and the devastation at losing a patient not only in his face but in his own reflection. “Don't-”
Jack lowered his head. “Robby.”
“No, Jack, her temp is not up! She's cold,” he said, walking back around the room. He rolled his shoulders back, pulling on gloves. If nobody else was going to save you he would. “She is not dead! She's not- She's not dead till she's warm and dead! Push another round of epi!”
Matteo jumped at the chance.
Jack stood by Robby's side. “Just... prepare yourself, okay? She's been down a long time. She might not come back from this.”
Robby glanced back at him. “She will.”
“And even if she did-”
Robby cut him off. “She will.”
They couldn't send you up to the OR- there was nothing surgical to do. They couldn't send you to the ICU- you weren't stable. They could work on you for hours, in the pitts of hell.
Robby didn't stop Jesse from compressions but he leant over you, leaning his lips into your forehead. “You'll come back, you have to come back.”
“What's her temp?”
“We're up to eighty-eight.”
“When was our last epi?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Push again.”
At some point Santos pushed her through the crowd, taking compressions from Jesse who she deemed weak-armed.
“Doctor Santos-” said Jack, the only one seeing this for what it was. A disaster. One more emotional person in the room wasn't going to help. If you woke you might just choke on tears from them all.
“I can do it,” she argued, nodding to the night attending. “I can do it.”
Santos was as stubborn as you. If anyone might have been able to beat her heart into beating, it would be her.
Robby leant over you. Robby could feel your skin cold against his lips and he pet back any bit of you he could reach, trying to warm you. He caught Jack's tired gaze, his lifeless stare like he was already grieving you. “I never told her I love her, Jack.”
“Get an APG,” said Santos.
Jack clasped his shoulder. “Tell her now.”
Robby looked back down to you, past the bag pushing your breath, through Santos keeping your heart beat. He kissed your forehead. “I-” he chocked on the words. He couldn't remember a time where he'd said it and meant it like he does now.
He knew Jack was giving him a way out. He knew Jack was giving him the chance to live with no regrets.
But Robby would regret not dying with you if you didn't make it.
There was a silence throughout the room, not even the beating of a monitor keeping him sane.
Robby's hot tears hit your cheeks.
“Temp?”
“Up to neinty.”
“Halt compressions.”
Santos paused.
Nothing.
Then a shrill beeping.
If Robby thought it was life he was going to be souly mistaken.
“She's in V-fib again!”
Robby backed away, tucking his head down to his chest as he watched Jack get the panels, rub the gel on.
“Charge to three hundred- clear!”
Your body jolted again, blankets slipping down your bare body and Robby suddenly wanted to cover you, wanted to pull every tube keeping you alive out and just hold you. Warm or cold. He just wanted to hold you.
“Again, charge. Clear!”
There was a silence. Maybe you were so angry at him you were proving a point by dying. You were a good swimmer. Why didn't you swim?
Everyone in the room paused, seeming to wait for someone to call it.
Jack looked at Robby.
“No,” he said, pushing past everyone.
“Robby-” interjected Jack.
He snatched the panels from Jack. “Charge again, three hundred-”
“-Robby-”
“I said charge again!”
The room was heavy as Jesse moved to do so, charging them up.
“Clear!”
Your body jerked again, violent. Your face remained peaceful, Santos remained off to the side, waiting for orders, waiting to know. Everyone else was looking to each other, silently deciding who would be the one to drag Robby away from your body.
“Wait- there!”
In the middle of them all there sat a pick up in your heart.
The room jumped into discussion about how to carry on, about how to keep the momentum going while Robby pressed his stethoscope into his ears and the other down on you. He listened, catching the beat of your heart.
“She's warm, she's warm and she's alive,” said Jack with a smile.
You were dreaming. It was a sweet sort of thing.
It was a warm body blanketing you and hands holding you. It was lips you knew pressing along you and drawing out pleasure. There were three tiny words spoken into flesh.
It was Robby, his head laid upon your chest in your bed and mumbling the words, tracing every letter over your ribs. When you reached for his hair, when you tried to say the words again you coughed up water instead. You clawed at your throat. You chocked in panic-
Then there was a beeping bringing you out of sweet dreams.
“Hey, hey. Honey? Honey, can you look at me?” a warm hand was running over your head, pushing back your hair. “Open your eyes.”
You tried to. They felt heavy. Sleep heavy.
But someone was coaxing you through it, holding your hand and brushing back your hair.
“Yeah, there we go... there we go, hey.”
The lights were bright, almost painfully so as they blared in your eyes. It took you a couple blinks to get them right but when you did there was a dark shadow looming over you, blocking out the lights.
There was the ragged pull of a beard and the slope of a well known nose.
You breathed in and smelt burnt coffee and hand sanitiser. “Robby?”
He smiled, crows feet at his eyes. “Hey, honey.”
You pushed up your arm, finding it oddly weak like it had been weighted down. You found an IV down in your arm. The white lights... the white walls and the IV all made slow sense.
“Wh-what?”
“Easy, easy.” Robby grabbed at your arms, holding you. He helped you sit up, reaching over and plumping your pillow and holding you there.
Only when you heard the monitor calming down and felt the pain lessen did Robby let you go, perching close on the bed next to you and grabbing your hand again.
“What happened?” you asked, finding your throat parched.
Robby sighed, pulling your hand into your lap. “There was an accident at the docks. You went with the responders to help. Your patient had a seizure and...”
You remembered the dock, the wind cold and the yells. You remembered Jack was there and the patient, he was seizing. “What happened to him?” you asked.
Robby stared at you, a small shake in his head as his brows pinched together.
“The seizing, the patient.”
There was a small look of disbelief, a soft smile creasing his chapped lips.
“What?”
His smile turned sharp with affection as he looked down. Your hand, engulfed in his, was pressed to his lips. He stayed like that as the scenes played in his head and the smile slowly started to fall. “You were brought in, your body temp was eighty. Jack was- was doing compressions. We- we had to shock you, so much, you don't- ” Robby sighed out a shaky breath. “You don't know what it was like.”
The dock, the bodies, Jack. The bite of cold water like a thousand daggers piercing into your skin. You had gasped for breath, limbs flailing.
It had felt like dying.
“Oh.”
You rubbed at your chest, pain blooming.
“You might be a bit burnt, from the shocks. And we were- we did compressions for a while so you broke a rib,” he said, chocking down a cry.
You squeezed his hand. “We?”
He nodded, chin tucked into his chest. His lips were pursed.
You'd seen Robby cry before, in shades of red face and clenched palms and always trying to hide it away. But you'd never seen him try to hide away as much as he was now. Your hand escaped his hold, caressing down his cheek.
“Robby.... hey....”
His lips puckered to your palm, pressing a kiss there. His palm was large as he held your hand up to his cheek.
“Hey,” you cooed.
Robby glanced up at you. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”
“It's okay.”
“No, no it's not, it's not okay,” Robby took a shaky breath and scooted closer. His arm came over you, bracing himself on the bed. “You almost died.”
You searched his eyes but only found pain and defeat. He looked tired. Really tired. “But I didn't.”
“That's not the point,” he said. He brushed back strands of your hair, kept petting it down in a way you guessed comforted him more. “Jack was doing compressions for almost an hour. Your temp was down the whole time. We shocked you four times. Four.”
Robby's voice broke.
“You almost died and the last thing we did was argue.”
You didn't know what to say to that. The words I'm sorry were already rising and like he sensed it, Robby gave a small shake of his head. “Yeah... probably wasn't the best timing.”
“We're never arguing again, you understand?”
You smirked, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. You could feel the race of his pulse. “Give us a week.”
“No,” said Robby. “Never.”
Something sour tasted it your mouth.
“Because we- are we, broken up?”
“No. No. We are not,” he said sternly.
You let out a breath. “Good. Good. I'd have hated to wake up from near death to that.”
“I should have listened to you,” he uttered. “Noelle is nothing, everyone else is nothing, nobody means anything to me, only you. Only ever you. And I am never letting you go again, ever.” He kissed your hand again.
You smiled at him. “What if I need to pee?”
“You can hold my hand.”
“And on mornings where I have really bad morning breath?” you teased.
“That doesn't happen, you know that,” Robby smiled.
Without any arguments left you gave up, sinking into your sheets with a shiver.
Robby frowned. “Are you cold?” he was up at once, pulling at the covers over you and the blankets. He was all but tucking you in as you laid there, taking it.
“Robby.”
“Yeah?” he hummed.
You tugged at his arm, pulling him down.
“What are you- what are you doing?” he chuckled, lightly.
“I'm cold, you're a human furnace, hold me.”
Robby was on the verge of complaining even as you pulled him down on the bed. He grunted at the squeak of the bed, was careful of the monitors assessing you. He squeezed in, pulling the rail back up as you curled up to the side to give him space. “These beds are not made for two.”
“You'll have to get onto the attending about that,” you teased, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, first thing tomorrow.”
“Meh, I can persuade him, if you like.”
Robby smirked. “He'll do whatever you say.”
His arm slung over your shoulder and rested there, holding your body into him till your head was on his chest and you could feel the beat of his heart. It was just like you dream. Of comfort and warmth.
Robby said your name in a whisper.
You looked up at him to see his eyes screwed shut before releasing them.
“I...”
You watched the move of his lips. “Robby, you don't have to-”
“No, I want to,” he said. Robby's hand was careful as he cupped your face.
“You don't have to say it just because of what happened.”
“I'm not, believe me, I'm not,” he said. “I love you.”
It was the words you wanted to hear, the words you needed to know, the very thing to finish off your dream.
“Robby-” you interjected.
“I love you,” he smiled, grinning wide at you. “I've said it now, I don't think you'll get me to shut up.” There was fake remorse in his voice, a feigned sort of sorry.
“I can think of a few ways.”
Robby's lips were warm and giving as you puckered your up to his, kissing him slow. If you lost your breath kissing him it'd be a hell of a way to go.
Robby smiled against your lips. “That might work.”
His body half rolled onto yours, the bed creaking in protest. Only when your monitor warned of you losing breath did he pull away and check the machine.
“Get some rest, Robby, you look like you need it,” you said, kissing his cheek slow.
There was fight of protest in him that quickly gave up.
Robby looked up at you, wide eyed. “Can I stay?”
You nodded.
“I love you.”
The words he'd given you, the words he'd never forget to say. The words he'd spoken and would never take back.
and i am once again being eaten alive by the concept of someone hitting on dennis while he’s at the club, sitting on robby’s lap, because the mf who can’t take the hint assumed that robby is dennis’ dad. thinking about how robby would pull dennis away to fuck nasty in the bathroom, calling dennis his baby, his puppy, his boy.
“dad can’t stand seeing others flirt with you, baby,” robby rumbles in his ear, big hands gripping soft hips to grind himself deeper into the vice grip of dennis’ hole. “wish dad can just lock up his boy away forever; chain him in dad’s room because no one else but dad deserves to see him, huh?”
dennis hiccups, sobbing at the pleasure that’s being drilled into him—robby’s touch, how filling he is, but also his words, almost promises that dennis wishes, that dennis prays, will come true. he wants to be good for robby. he wants to be—
robby’s son.
robby huffs out a chuckle, the breath puffing out of him in disbelief. “shit, dennis, you just clenched around me- fuck, is that what you want, sweetheart? want to be dad’s toy? his free-use?”
dennis chokes on a keen, nodding, drool dripping down his chin as the euphoria closes in. he feels overwhelmed, stripped down to the barest of his debauchery and made to feel beautiful in spite of it; robby loves him because of it.
“gonna cum,” he gasps out. “dad, m’gonna—”
just as the pleasure bloats, it retreats, leaving dennis in a sharp denial.
“no!” he whines, thrashing in robby’s hold. “dad, no! i wanna- i wanna—”
but robby just smothers a chuckle on dennis’ neck, where his jugular is, before whispering, “not yet, baby. not yet.”
robby is so soft with him as he says this, cradling him in his arms and nuzzling his scruff on dennis’ back like he didn’t just deny his boy his release, leaving him rasping as his body jolts, feeling like it is suspended in a limbo of something that is so achingly delicious.
dennis sniffles but he nuzzles back, anyway, because he loves when dad’s just as mean as much as he is sweet.
"baby." robby mutters in dennis' ear, his big meaty hand gripping the younger mans thigh.
its the middle of the night, probably closer to 2 in the morning.
dennis grunts in question, half asleep, and the answer that follows is something hard and thick grinding between his clothed ass cheeks.
this is something that happens... a lot. after dating for a little over 2 and a half years, being woken up by a hot and turned on michael robinavitch is no surprise.
sometimes the hot and turned on michael wakes him up with the early morning sunrise. sometimes - when they're both blessed with a day off together - it's a little closer to brunch and robby's already got food and coffee ready for after they're finished.
but it doesn't matter what time it is, dennis still gives a small mewl in response and opens up to him easily. robby's breath hitches and not caring whether or not his boyfriend is fully awake, he starts to roll down each other's pants.
robby doesn't need a lot, he just needs to feel dennis.
he slips in between his legs, just under the sack, and they both groan together.
dennis let's him have it, his own hand has already reached down to start playing with himself and he's blissed out, drooling in his pillow. he's somewhere in between having the best dream of his life and just awake enough to know he has the best boyfriend a guy could ask for.
robby's groaning and moaning and getting rough the way he always does, he's whispering praises in dennis' ear. saying things like 'take it so good baby-' and '-thank you,'
dennis usually comes first because something about the way robby needs him always sets him off quick.
and robby usually always follows directly after, this time is no different.
it ends with a forceful thrust, a harsh curse and sweet worshipful kisses up and down the back of his neck.
dennis is already back asleep but it's ok, he knows robby will take care of him.
It finally happened!!!!! I know that Vessel from Sleep Token had another band he sang in. Well Spotify finally played it in my smart snuffle rotation. Will I find and play the whole album, yes.....while I fall down another rabbit hole, yes. 😁 I will never ever look up what the Blacklit Canopy looks like. But man the difference in vocal power he had then versus now 💜
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Puppy!Dennis, Owners!Jack and Robby Drabble bc why not?
Dennis can’t stand not being collared, so Jack and Robby have to find a way to keep him collared with their coworkers getting suspicious.
PG post, didn’t proof read, typed and posted
Dennis was currently pouting, he looked like a petulant child. Arms crossed, bottom lip jutted out, and those big puppy dog eyes on full display for his owners, who were standing over him looking unimpressed. Jack was holding the key to the collar around the puppy’s neck, Robby was standing cross armed right behind him.
“Don’t wanna take it off, please sir?” Dennis whined, close to begging for it to just be left on. All he wanted was that leather collar to remain around his neck.
Jack sighed, a long, suffering sigh that made Dennis’ eyes water. He knew that the pouting didn’t work.
“Puppy, the collars coming off. End of discussion.” Jack had grown fed up. He was tired from his night shift and Robby and Dennis were late as fuck to their own shift. So instead of arguing, he reaches forward and yanks Dennis by his collar, holding him there as he unlocks it and pulls it off.
Dennis pouts all day, the entire shift he was a little mopey mess. Robby was trying his best to cheer him up when he could, soft praises, lingering touches. But nothing seemed to cheer the puppy up.
Jack tried his best to fall asleep, but every time he closed his eyes he saw that pouting face. The big, watery eyes. The trembling lip. He drags himself out of bed, sitting down at the kitchen table and opening up his laptop. And in the search bar? “Discreet day collars” he found one. A chain, thick but not thick enough to warrant suspicion, not too tight, but not loose enough for their puppy to slip out of it easily. Just long enough for it to sit under his undershirt. In the center there was an O. He clicked order before he could overthink it.
He didn’t tell Dennis, but he did tell Robby. They both agreed that it would be a surprise for their puppy.
Dennis had been sent to get the mail, his owners didn’t get packages often, so when they did he was curious as to what they bought. He reads the name on it as he steps through the door, he grows even more confused when he sees Jacks name on it.
He kneels in front of the couch, setting the mail on Jacks lap, looking up at him with those big eyes.
Jack doesn’t let him see what’s in the package, just stands on his crutches and brings it to the bedroom. Setting it in the closet.
The next shift, Jack stands there, the same scene in front of him as always. A pouting puppy refusing to give up his collar. He walks into the closet and brings out the chain day collar, holding it up for Dennis to see.
“Puppy, look.” He brings it real close to Dennis’ face “I got you a day collar. So stop pouting and let me put it on you.” Jacks voice held no room for disobedience. Firm and commanding as always.
Dennis looks for a moment, just stares at the silver chain in Jacks hands. Then crawls forward slowly, letting his usual thick leather collar be replaced by the simple silver o-ring day collar.
“I better not see any pouting on shift today either puppy” Robby pets over his hair, looking down at him with that same soft, loving expression he always sported when it came to their puppy.
Dennis smiled through his shift, touching the metal around his neck whenever he could, fiddling with the little O ring.
