…

And in doing so you get knocked on your ass, falling face first onto the hard floor. Blood sprays from your nose as you hear the crack of the bone. It takes you a few seconds to shake off the dizziness and disorientation. You stay on the ground, groaning from pain.

Until there are hands hauling you up, familiar hands of your friends. You barely hear them ask about your wellbeing before you are shoving them back inside.

You join your colleagues and other patients in the x-ray room. You lock it tight and with the help of other you put everything you can in front of the door.

Then, you all just sit down, leaning against the wall and praying for the long minutes of shots to pass by quicker. And you just pray that your Jack is safe. That all of your friends are okay, too.

-

Jack is frantic with worry. He keeps calling you and calling you, just hoping you'll fucking finally pick up, but the call always ends up in voicemail.

The only thing keeping him from running after you is Robby and about a dozen of patience that he's hauled up with in a room.

"Quit fidgeting, Abbot." Robby whispers sternly, it's so quiet that he barely hear it. "Y/N is fine. She's a smart woman, smart doctor. She knows all the right steps. You made sure, she knows, right?"

Jack itches to scold Robby for speaking, but he's right and his words calm Jack down a bit.

"Yes, she knows." Jack says quietly and flinches at the sounds of the shots.

Jack checks his phone for any new messages from you, but finds only messages from his SWAT buddy that keeps updating him on the police's move.

They are still couple of minutes out and Jack just hopes they hurry. Especially, as the firing stops, replaced by the quiet before a storm.

-

You know the shooter is on your floor and with the minutes ticking by and still no sign of police, you take the last steps of your survival.

You position yourself on one side of the door, scalpel in one hand and injection with heavy dose of morphine in the other. Your colleague, shaking, stands on the other side, prepared to try to take out the shooter if he somehow breaks in.

-

The text of the shooter being down comes 15 minutes later. Fifteen painful minutes later. There's still code gray beeping because the police still have to do a fully throughout sweep of the whole hospital to be really sure there are no more threats.

And the wait for that is somehow even worse. Jack contemplates saying fuck it to waiting, but Robby gives him the 'no stupid ideas' look so Jack stays.

"She's okay, brother." Robby reassures him again. Jack is so pent up by now that it doesn't help.

Jack just shakes his head, letting out a shaky breath. He hasn't felt this kind of fear in a long, long time.

"But if she got shot or-or...."

"She didn't. And if she had, we'll deal with it. We'll patch her up." Robby's voice is wobbly as he tries to reassure Jack. Robby knows how much you mean to Jack, how much he loves you and you're Robby's friend too, so his worry for you isn't easy on him either.

Finally, code gray stops and 'all clear' comes through the speakers. And Jack is hauling the stuff away from the door and running out of there immediately.

He doesn't even register the pain shooting through his leg. You come first before everything and everyone else. He already lost one love in his life before and he's not losing you.

Jack is frantic by the time he gets upstairs. There's so much rubbish and blood everywhere. And yet he can't find you. Can't see your characteristic hair color or your pretty smile or that purple stethoscope you love so much.

"Jack?" Your name on his lips is like a gift straight from heaven.

He follows your voice with a sob trying to break free. And there you are, crouching in front of a patient as you bandage a wound in their arm.

You quickly make sure the bandages are tight and secure before you stand up and walk up to frozen Jack.

As you near him, he finally starts moving again. His hands end up on your cheeks, checking you all over.

You wince as he moves your head around gently. "Jesus, angel, did you get shot? There's so much blood. Oh god, are you okay?"

He rambles quickly, asking you question after question. And the sheer panic in his eyes tells you what you need to know.

Your hands come up to hold his on your cheeks. "Jack, baby, breathe. I'm not shot. I'm okay, we're both okay."

You nod, prompting him to do the same. Shaky breaths leave both of you, and Jack has to squeeze his eyes shut tight to get the hazy vision away.

"I was so fucking worried, sweetheart." Jack finally says with a steady voice. He brings your face closer to his, leaning against your forehead.

"I was too. The shots were so close and so loud. We hid in the x-ray room, but before that I got knocked down on my face by people running. That's why I look so bad." You tell Jack, and he smiles softly at you before he leans back to examine said nose. It doesn't look broken but he'll definitely make you get a scan taken just to be sure.

"Good job, sweetheart. Those doors are thick and protected. You made a great decision. I'm proud of you." Jack leans down, giving you a kiss full of relief. Screw pda policies, there's only you on his mind.

"I love you, Jack." You whisper against his lips, suddenly feeling like you don't say those three words often enough. You could have been one of the people laying dead. But by sone miracle, both of you are okay and you'll cherish it forever.

"I love you, angel. Don't scare me like this again please." His thumb is rubbing your cheek gently as he chuckles. The sound eases the last tightness in your chest. "I'm gonna keep you close to me from now on."

And finally that earns him a small laugh from you because this overbearing man already trails you like a lovesick puppy most of the time. But you love it, you wouldn't change it for anything.

"Okay, handsome. Whatever brings you the peace of mind, I'm up for it." Jack drops one more kiss onto your lips.

Right before he's tugging you after him, not giving you a chance to protest as he makes you get a scan of your nose. He does that, cleans your bloody face and just then he goes join his busy colleagues.

Jack knew he could spare those 5 minutes to make sure that you were okay. If he was really needed, someone would come get him. But now, he can get back to work with one eye still on you.

It was a tricky case, sure. 25 year old female brought in by paramedics, called because her neighbour had seen her wandering the street crying. Kiara asked you to join her on the case, and every time Kiara asked for you, you joined. Psychiatry was still a possibility, after all. After getting the poor woman to talk, she'd told the two of you about how much she was struggling at home. It wasn't hard to spot the faint lines on her arms and thighs as soon as she'd changed into her patient gown, and she didn't have trouble opening up either. It seemed all she needed was someone to talk to about her feelings, and it was a relatively slow shift, so you'd had all the time in the world.

Or so you'd thought.

Robby, as always, had a problem with that. He'd barged into the room in the middle of the consultation, into the patient crying into her hands, and decided it was the perfect time to yell at you for spending too much time in this room and not enough time clearing triage. He hadn't noticed the girl until it was too late, of course, but the damage was done. She retreated and wouldn't talk to you or Kiara.

"You should've been doing that already. I shouldn't have had to come and tell you to," He shakes his head, hands linking behind his head. "We don't have the time to sit with patients and listen to their sob stories. That's what we have the psychiatrists for."

"I was helping Kiara because the patient felt safe with me after her intake. Are you sure you don't have anything to say to me, Robby?" You raise your eyebrows, not afraid to step up closer to him. You're a fourth year resident now, after all, and you're confident in your abilities. And sometimes Robby needs to be knocked down a few pegs.

"What could I possibly have to say to you?" He asks, matching your energy. Should've seen it coming.

"I don't know, try sorry? Not only did you humiliate me in front of the patient, and in front of Kiara, but now that poor woman doesn't want to talk to us anymore. It could take days to get her comfortable again." Crossing your arms over your chest, you cock your head to the side, as if goading him. He takes the bait, to your dismay.

"That's not a medical issue. Your only job with that patient was to clear her medically and then move on. There's too much traffic in here to linger on patients for that long." He hangs his head, adjusting his stethoscope. It must've been a long shift for him too. Too bad.

"Look around! I haven't had a new patient in an hour, and my shift is over in-" You check your watch, "15 minutes. Give me a fucking break, Robinavitch."

"I'm getting really sick of your attitude, you know. You may be a senior resident, but I'm still your attending, and you need to watch it."

"My attitude? I'm calling out your insensitive behaviour in front of patients and my attitude is a problem?" This is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard.

"Yes, your attitude. It drives me fucking crazy- matter of fact, I think it drives everyone crazy. You're gonna need to adjust it, because nobody's ever going to want to deal with it, and you're going to be stuck pulling double shifts for the rest of your li-"

"What's this about her attitude?" All of a sudden, a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind, and the smell of a pleasantly familiar cologne envelops your senses. Jack Abbot has arrived to save the day. "I've been trying to give her an adjustment, but she's just too stubborn."

Robby stammers for a moment, looking between you and Jack. You, and Jack. You, and Jack. It's then that it hits you that nobody knows about your relationship, and the entire ED is staring in your direction. At least you're not getting yelled at anymore.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, brother?" He grins, turning his head to kiss your cheek, stubble scratching. "You know what, I'll get back to you. Just gonna say goodbye to my girl before handoffs and then we'll talk."

The tone is authoritative, which tells you that Jack heard a lot of that public shaming fest, and Robby is going to get an earful about it later. But Jack is very much a discipline in private type of guy, so you know he won't be nearly as embarrassed as you feel right now.

Before you know it, Jack is pulling you into the (thankfully empty) break room and closing the door behind you both. Arms wrap around you and all of a sudden your head is pressed into his chest, one of his hands cradling it there.

"Wanna tell me why Robby was yelling at you in front of the entire staff?" He murmurs, voice low and rumbly in the way that always makes a shiver go down your spine.

"I didn't have any patients except for this girl who was brought in by an ambulance, in a really bad place mentally, needed someone to talk to. So I stayed with her for a while, but Robby had a problem, and yelled at me in front of her. Now she won’t talk, and Robby refused to admit he was wrong.” It all comes tumbling out at once, your mouth clamping shut as soon as its over.

“As usual.” He grunts, pulling back to look at you. His large hands come up to cradle your face between his palms, and warmth spreads through your body immediately. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Thanks, Jackie.” You coo, leaning up to kiss his cheek now. “I have the day off tomorrow so I’ll sleep in with you and then we can do something fun before your shift.”

“Funny, because I took tomorrow night off as well. Looks like we’ll have a whole day to ourselves, little miss.” He pinches your cheek, and you laugh.

“Couldn’t think of anything better right now.” You sigh, melting into his arms.

“Not even Robby’s head on a stick?” He quirks a brow, head tilting to the side.

“Oh, close second.”

credits to pixopix for the dividers!

You huffed a laugh as the two of them started bickering just as your phone buzzed in your pocket. You leant against the wall, only half listening as you pulled it out of your scrubs and saw a notification from Jack.

He must have just woken up from his pre-shift nap. The corner of your mouth lifted as you read his reply.

You: Are you coming in early today?

JA ❤️: Always.

You quickly typed out another message.

You: any chance u could bring in a protein bar for me? the ones at work are inedible

The reply came almost instantly.

JA ❤️: I know. I’ve told Robby they are a serious health hazard.

You smiled at that as you watched the three dots blink back at you.

JA ❤️: I’ll be in soon. I already have some in my bag for you.

You: are you psychic?

JA ❤️: Just good at pattern recognition.

Your smile widened as his reply came through.

You: thank u 🩷

JA ❤️: 👍

“What are you smiling at?”

You looked up to find McKay watching you over the fridge door.

“What?”

“That.” She pointed vaguely at your face. “Whatever that was.”

“Nothing.”

Santos and Whitaker paused their arguing to focus on you.

Santos studied you, her face contorting into a grimace. “Gross.”

“What?”

“I just can’t get over the fact that Abott reduces you to…” She trailed off, waving vaguely at you.

“That?” Whitaker supplied.

“Yeah.” Santos nodded gravely. “That.”

You rolled your eyes, sliding your phone back into your scrub pocket.

“I think the two of you are starting to fuse into one brain cell.”

Santos’ expression went still. “….that was genuinely hurtful.”

You turned to Whitaker. “There’s your new button to press.”

Whitaker’s grin widened as he crossed his arms over his chest and turned to Santos. “Oh I cannot wait to bring this up multiple times a day.”

Santos glared at you. "You're a traitor."

You pushed off the wall, shaking your head as you made your way towards the door.

“Never give your triggers away Santos.”

“You’re still a traitor!” She called out.

You waved her off without looking back, escaping before she could start another argument.

You barely made it two steps before nearly colliding with Samira.

“Oh sorry.” She came to an abrupt halt, the usual frazzled expression etched onto her features as she looked up at you.

“You all good?”

“Yeah um- have you seen Joy?”

“Not for a little while.”

“No worries, if you see her can you tell her I need her in Room 3?”

“Sure.” You nodded, tilting your head slightly as you studied her. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah fine.” She brushed you off as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Haven’t had lunch so I’m a bit cranky.”

You nodded in understanding. “Word of warning, don’t eat the protein bars.”

Samira’s nose wrinkled as she stepped around you. “Why on earth would I do that?”

You threw your arms up dramatically. “Am I the only one who didn’t know they were inedible?”

“Apparently so.”

You huffed, pulling your hair out from under your collar as you made your way over to the status board which was currently glowing above the chaos that was the ED like a cruel little scoreboard.

Your hands settled on your stethoscope as you scanned the board. Less than an hour till your shift was over, at least officially. Which given your track record of overtime, meant close to nothing.

“Hey.”

You glanced over to see Perlah leaning against one of the desks.

“What?” You asked warily.

Her smirk widened. “Have you seen the hot visitor?”

“The what?”

Princess appeared beside her, equally delighted.

“Absolute smoke show.”

Princess nodded towards the far end of the station. “Follow the sounds of Joy giggling.”

Your brows knitted together.

“Joy? As in our intern, Joy? As in the complete antithesis of her name, Joy?” You queried.

“See for yourself.” Perlah grinned.

You followed their line of sight to the other end of the nurses station where a tall figure stood, leaning an arm on one of the benches.

At first, all you saw was the back of a leather jacket, familiar in a way that made your stomach drop before your brain had fully caught up. The man shifted slightly, turning just enough for a familiar profile to come into view. The same hair coifed to perfection, the same self-satisfied slant of his mouth.

And sure enough standing beside him, blushing furiously as she giggled, actually giggled, at whatever he had just said, was Joy.

“I didn’t even know she was capable of laughter.” Princess remarked.

You closed your eyes for one brief, pained second. “You have got to be kidding me.” You grumbled.

Before either Princess or Perlah could ask what was wrong, you were already moving, making a beeline towards them.

Princess and Perlah exchanged a look behind your back. “What just happened?” Princess asked in Tagalog.

“I don’t know." Perlah muttered. "But I think it’s going to be good.”

By the time you were close enough to hear the familiar deep drawl of his voice, Mark Sloan had inched in just enough to make Joy look like she might pass out.

“So, is that the only piercing you have or...?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Still shamelessly hitting on interns I see.”

Mark turned at the sound of your voice. For half a second, there was nothing but surprise. And then his eyes lit up in recognition.

“Well I’ll be.”

That familiar grin spread slowly across his face as his eyes travelled down your body with the same shameless appreciation he’d had years ago, like he was undressing you from memory.

“Cupid.” He said the nickname lowly, like he’d never stopped saying it. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You shot him a fake smile. “Wish I could say the same.”

Joy looked between the two of you, blinking rapidly, as if she was trying to decipher a complex math problem. You turned your attention to her, offering her a polite smile.

“Dr Mohan's looking for you, something to do with your patient in room 3.”

“Oh right.” Joy nodded, adjusting her glasses as she glanced at Mark. “On it.”

“Bye Joy.” Mark called out lazily, watching her blush as she scurried away, nearly walking into a wall in the process.

He turned to you, looking pleased with himself as he leant forward. “Why do you always have to ruin my fun?” He pouted once she was out of earshot.

"Someone has to."

Meanwhile, McKay, Whitaker and Santos had exited the breakroom, not even bothering to conceal their ogling as they clustered around a monitor.

“Ok who on earth is that?” Santos queried.

"And why does he look like he just walked off a photoshoot?" McKay muttered.

“And how do they know eachother?” Whitaker added.

“He called her Cupid.” Joy casually commented as she walked past them.

Whitaker’s brow furrowed. "....Cupid?"

Santos froze. The faint amusement dropped away, replaced by the sharp, dawning horror of someone remembering a detail they were never supposed to need.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” McKay and Whitaker asked simultaneously.

"Do you guys remember that time at karaoke?"

"....the one where she sang No Scrubs at Abbot?"

"No. The one when she accidentally admitted she had an ex at Seattle Grace that used to call her Cupid."

McKay and Whitaker both slowly turned to stare at Mark, then at you, then back at Mark.

"No." McKay shook her head.

"Yes."

“You don’t seriously think….” Whitaker trailed off.

“Oh I do” Santos nodded. “I really do.”

Back at the nurses’ station, you folded your arms, ignoring Mark's attempts at getting under your skin.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh some conference.” He waived his hand dismissively. “Thought I’d take the opportunity to come see Robinavitch.”

You blinked. “You know Dr Robby.” You said slowly.

“Since med school.” He answered smoothly. “Why? Hoping I was here to see you?”

You snorted. “Please.”

“Oh c’mon Cupid don’t act like you don’t miss me.” He smirked as he stepped closer. “You wouldn’t have moved across the other side of the country to forget about me if you didn’t.”

You leant in slightly, shooting him a dry smile. “I wouldn’t touch you again even if my life depended on it Sloan.”

He let out a genuine chuckle. “I’ve missed this.” He gestured between the two of you. “Us."

He placed his chin in the palm of his hand, leaning even closer. "Why did it ever end?”

You pretended to think for a moment. "Maybe because you’re physiologically incapable of staying monogamous?”

“Oh yeah right that.” He nodded. “Speaking of monogamous..."

"No."

"... I’ve heard you’ve got a new boy toy right here at PTMC.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Jesus Christ Meredith needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.”

“Well in her defence she told Derek who then told me so….” Mark trailed off, turning his body around to survey the room. “Which one is he?”

"I'm not playing this game." You answered, folding your arms over your chest.

“Wait let me guess.”

Before you could stop him, Mark placed both hands on your shoulders and gently turned you so you were both facing the floor of the pitt.

His eyes landed on Frank first. “Too pretty boy.”

He guided your shoulders slightly towards Whitaker. “Too scrawny.”

From across the room, Whitaker stiffened. “…Why is he looking at me?”

Santos didn’t look away. “Don’t wave.” She murmured.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You were thinking about it.”

Then the ambulance bay doors opened. Jack walked in with a thermos in one hand, his bicep bulging as he shifted the backpack slung over his other shoulder on full display under his dark fitted shirt.

Your stomach dropped as his eyes scanned the room, no doubt looking for you. It didn't take long for his eyes to find yours. You watched as they shifted to Mark, then dropped to Mark's hands resting on your shoulders.

For a moment, his expression barely changed, only the faintest tightening around his jaw gave him away. Then he kept walking.

Mark smiled slowly. “….bingo.”

Your body stiffened as Mark glanced sideways at you.

“I’m right."

You didn't answer.

"I am."

“I’m not talking about my love life with you of all people.”

“Cupid, don’t be like that.” He nudged your shoulder. "Come on, what’s he like?”

“Well for starters, he volunteers as a medic for the SWAT team.” You said sweetly. “So he’s got at least one gun on him at all times.”

Mark nodded slowly, dropping his hands from your shoulders. "Noted."

"He also has excellent aim."

"Message received." Mark held his hands up. "I'll behave."

And then, for the first time since he had appeared, the teasing faded.

"But seriously..." His face softened slightly as his eyes settled on your face properly, no longer performing for the room.

“You’re happy?”

You exhaled slowly, your defences lowering slightly by the unexpected tone of his voice.

“I am.”

“He good to you?"

You smiled softly despite yourself. “He is.”

Something flickered across Mark’s face then, softening the usual sharp lines of his smirk, scarily close to being something sincere. “Good.”

For a moment, the years between you settled there. It didn’t feel painful or bitter or even sad. In fact, it seemed absurd to think that you'd cried over him once upon a time. Now he was just a story you told after one too many drinks, something you reflected on and shook your head, chalking it up to the foolishness of youth.

You cleared your throat, looking away first. “How’s work?”

“Busy, chaotic, dramatic.” Mark shrugged.

"So the usual then?"

“The usual.”

He glanced around the emergency department, frowing slightly as he took in the noise, the movement, the organised disaster of it all. “How’s the ED?”

“Busy, chaotic.” You echoed. “Somehow still much less dramatic than Seattle Grace."

Mark barked out a laugh. “Yeah that checks out.”

“Sloan.”

The two of you turned to see Robby making his way towards you, Jack beside him.

Mark's grin returned instantly.

“Robinavitch.” He broke away from you and pulled Robby into a hug with the force of someone who had never respected personal space in his life.

"A lot less hair since I last saw you."

Robby snorted, clapping him on the back. "The Pitt will do that to you.”

Jack caught your eye over Robby’s shoulder, his expression running a fine line between faint amusement and annoyance.

Robby stepped back, shaking his head before gesturing to Jack.

“This is Jack Abbot, night attending.”

“Nice to meet you. Mark Sloan.” Mark stuck his hand out. “Head of Plastic Surgery at Seattle Grace.”

“Plastic surgery?” Jack's brow lifted slightly as he shook Mark’s hand. “Explains the soft hands.”

Mark laughed loudly enough that several people looked over.

“Oh my god.” Whitaker mumbled as he watched Jack and Mark shake hands. “It’s like I’m seeing double.”

Santos shook her head. “She’s got some serious issues.”

McKay folded her arms over her chest as she studied the two men. “Or just good taste.”

“I second the good taste thing.” Princess murmured as she appeared beside McKay.

Perlah took a sip of her drink and nodded. “I third that.”

The handshake lasted just a fraction longer than necessary as Mark glanced over at you. “I get it."

Robby’s eyes narrowed as he gestured between you and Mark.

“You two know eachother?”

“I was an intern at Seattle Grace." You supplied quickly.

“Oh yes, Cupid and I go wayyy back.” Mark smirked.

Robby's confusion only deepened. “Cupid…?”

You shot Mark a warning glare, which he very intentionally ignored.

“Yeah Cupid.” He answered smoothly. “'cause you know she’s got these little angel wings tattooed right above her-“

“Okayyy you know what.” Robby clapped his hands letting out a bark of awkward laughter. “I think a hospital tour sounds like a great idea right about now."

Mark's eyes gleamed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I was going to say shoulder blade."

“You are going to walk with me." Robby said, already steering him away, “And tell me absolutely none of the rest of that story.”

Mark let himself be guided down the hall, still grinning smugly as he glanced back over his shoulder at you and winked, making you roll your eyes once more.

You dragged your eyes away from him to look at Jack who was yet to move. He watched Mark disappear down the corridor, then looked back at you.

He slowly stepped forward, eyes scanning your figure as he placed his hands casually behind his back.

"Ex?"

You sighed. "...Ex."

Jack nodded curtly. “Got it.”

“Abbot.” You looked over to see Dana studying both of you. “Dr King needs an attending in Room 8.”

Jack's eyes never left you. You watched him intently, waiting to see if he would say anything further. Instead he simply reached into his pocket and produced a protein bar.

You swallowed as he slid it into the front pocket of your scrub top, his fingers lightly against your side subtly.

“Eat.” Was all he said, unable to hide the affection in his voice.

Your throat tightened around a smile as you nodded. He held your gaze for one more second, then turned and headed in the direction of Room 8.

You watched him go, your hand subconsciously brushing over the side that he’d just touched.

When you looked back, Dana was still standing there, one hand on her hip as she watched you over her glasses with an expression far too knowing for your liking.

“Don’t you dare say a word.”

She raised her hands up in mock surrender. “Wasn’t gonna.”

You huffed as you turned, suddenly desperate to busy yourself in order to keep your mind off the cluster fuck that was your two worlds colliding.

For the next twenty minutes, you threw yourself back into work. Every few minutes though, your gaze betrayed you, either drifting towards the corridor where Robby had taken Mark or towards Room 8, where Jack had disappeared. The protein bar sat heavily in your pocket, your appetite now completely non-existent.

By the time you ended up at a computer to finish off your charting, your shift was close enough to ending that you had started to believe you might actually survive it.

“Oh damn, the patient in room 7 died.”

You glanced up to see Whitaker staring at a chart from the workstation beside you.

“The old lady with the chest pain?”

“Yeah.” Whitaker sighed.

You frowned. "That sucks."

“She had a husband right?” Santos chimed in from across from you, not bothering to look up from her own computer.

“Yeah she did, married nearly fifty years."

Without missing a beat, Santos glanced up at you. “Abbot better watch out.”

Your eyes narrowed.

"Nice. Very respectful." Whitaker shook his head, although you could see he was trying not to laugh.

"What?" Santos shrugged. "Our girl clearly has a type."

"Silver foxes?" McKay suggested as she walked past grinning like a cheshire cat.

"I hate all of you."

Whitaker looked over at you like he was genuinely offended. "What did I do?!"

Across the hallway, Jack had just emerged from Room 8. Your eyes met his. He didn’t react beyond the faintest lift of one eyebrow, but you could tell he'd heard every word.

You tipped your head slightly towards the supply closet. Jack looked at you for half a beat, then gave the smallest nod.

You waited a couple minutes before moving.

The supply closet was narrow, overstocked, and smelled faintly of antiseptic and cardboard. You shut the door behind you and leaned against a shelf, exhaling slowly for what felt like the first time in an hour.

A few minutes later, the handle turned. Jack stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him. He leaned back against the opposite shelf, folding his arms loosely across his chest as the two of you studied eachother.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“So… that’s your ex.”

“That’s my ex.”

He nodded. "You left out a few details."

"Such as?"

His gaze dropped briefly, then returned to your face.

“Well first of all I wasn’t expecting Mark Sloan.”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “You know who he is?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“Of course you have.” You paused for a moment before your voice dropped slightly, unable to hide the insecurity in your tone. "Do you think less of me because I dated someone like him?"

Jack's brows knitted together. "Absolutely not." He said immediately. "It's just that I wasn't expecting your ex to be..."

Your brow furrowed. “Be what?”

“…old.” Was what Jack settled on.

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “He’s not old, he’s like your age.”

“Exactly.” Jack nodded. “I'm practically from the stone age compared to you.”

“You’re not.” You insisted.

Jack’s mouth twitched, but the smile didn’t quite hold as he looked down at the floor.

You studied him for a moment, admiring the lines etched deep into his face that you’d had memorised for as long as you’d known him. “Does it bother you that he’s older?”

“No it doesn’t bother me it’s just...” He sighed. “I thought I was the exception.” He confessed.

Your face softened instantly as you pushed off the wall and took a step towards him.

"Jack."

"I know it’s irrational.” He said, giving a small, self-deprecating shrug. “I just thought I was the first older doctor you’d made questionable life choices over.”

You huffed a small laugh as you closed the gap between the two of you, reaching up to cradle his jaw.

“Hey.” You said gently, guiding his eyes up to meet yours.

“When I met Mark I was young and overwhelmed and had just moved to a new city and he was…” You trailed off, glancing at the door like Mark might somehow materialise on cue.

“…well you’ve seen what he’s like.”

You brushed a thumb over his stubble that lined his jaw. “It barely even qualified as a relationship. And then it ended and we worked together for months. And then I moved.”

Jack leant into your touch slightly, his eyes never leaving your face as you spoke, attentive in the way that always made your heart ache a little.

“And then on my first day here I met a grumpy doctor up on the roof while I was mid meltdown.”

His brows drew together in feigned disbelief. “I don’t think he was grumpy.”

“He told me if I was thinking of jumping I shouldn’t because it’d be a shame to ruin a face like mine.”

The frown that had a hold on his face loosened just a fraction. “Why on earth would he think that line would work.”

“In his defence, I think he was a little out of practice.”

His hands settled at your waist, warm and steady through the thin fabric of your scrubs. “Or his brain short circuited when he saw you.”

Your smile widened as you slid your arms around the back of his neck, entwining your fingers absentmindedly around the silver curls at the nape of his neck.

“Well, lucky for him it worked.”

The reluctant smile finally reached his eyes. “Very lucky.” He corrected.

He glanced down, playing with the tie of your scrub pants.

“I just can’t believe you dated a plastic surgeon.”

You snorted softly. “Is that seriously what’s bothering you the most?”

“Yes.” He answered plainly.

You shook your head, a wry smile on your lips. “Not the stupid nickname?”

Jack glanced down at you, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.

“If he calls you that again I may have no choice but to punch him.” He conceded casually as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

His head tilted slightly as he studied you for a moment. “But at least he can fix his own nose up after.”

You let out a laugh, running a hand over his chest. “Don’t worry.” You soothed. “I already told him you volunteer with the SWAT team.”

Jack smirked down at you proudly. “Atta girl.”

Then he leant down and finally pressed his lips to yours in a slow, reverent kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes narrowed immediately.

“Did you eat?”

You winced slightly. “Not yet.” You patted the pocket that contained the protein bar. “I’ll eat this and then go.”

Jack frowned, clearly unsatisfied with your solution. “Go home and eat something more substantial.”

“I will.”

“There’s pasta in the fridge for you, all you have to do is chuck it in the microwave.”

Your interest piqued immediately. “The pesto one I love?”

“Of course.”

You grinned, pressing your forehead against his. “You’re very good to me Dr Abbot.”

His smile softened into something private, something reserved just for you. “Anything for my girl.”

You kissed him again, deeper this time, enjoying the feeling of his warmth seeping into you.

“Alright.” He muttered reluctantly against your lips as he pulled away. “Get going before I end up locking you in here.”

You smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He shot you a warning glare with absolutely no bite to it.

You huffed dramatically, “alright alright.”

You reached for the door, then paused, glancing back at him.

“And for the record, if you’re worried about feeling old…”

Jack raised a brow.

“You should meet my other ex, he checked into the nursing home down the road last week.”

“Very funny.” He muttered, trying but failing to look unamused.

“I know I am.”

“Go.” He urged as he tapped your backside affectionately.

You raised your hands in mock defeat, slipping back into the pitt without another word.

Jack shook his head as the door shut softly behind you, a lovesick smile spreading across his face.

a month has gone by since you've moved to pittsburgh. it's nothing like the small town in oregon you grew up in, but you're grateful that robby was kind enough to offer you a room free of charge. he took a whole week off during your first week back so that he could show you around town. even taking you to his place of work so he could introduce you to everyone on his crew.

most of them were shocked to discover that robby had a daughter, all except dana, who already knew of you and your existence. and you had to explain that long story about robby technically being your godfather, but it's easier to just say he's your dad. besides, it wasn't like your actual dad was always the most stable figure in your life.

speaking of him, he calls you one night as you begin plating the table for you and robby. he starts spouting the same bullshit about you being such a terrible daughter for leaving him and oregon behind to pursue a career that'll never take off. you just let him talk, not really caring anymore to defend yourself. already knowing that it'll go nowhere and only escalate the argument. just as you finish setting up is when robby comes home, discarding his shoes and jacket, dropping his backpack beside the front door.

the volume of your dad's voice is so loud over the phone that you have to hold it away from your ear, making robby tilt a brow in confusion. 'your dad?' he mouths, which you nod. "listen, i gotta go and make dinner. goodnight," you say, ignoring the flew of curse words he spills as you hang up.

"what lovely things did he have to say to you tonight?" robby questions, wasting no time to dig into the spaghetti you made. "oh, you know, how much he hates me for leaving. how he thinks my acting career will go nowhere. and how disappointed mom would be in me if she was still here. so the usual," you reply, harshly stabbing at the salad you made as a side. he lets out a soft huff, shaking his head. "that's not true, you know. your mother would be very proud to see the woman you've become," he assures softly. "yeah, i know that. you would think he'd know that."

"how's the job hunting going?" robby questions, changing the topic. "there were a few listings for some roles that seem interesting. but in the meantime i got an interview tomorrow for a local record store down the street."

"that's good, bug. you've been so stuck in the house this past month. i'm glad you're getting out. speaking of getting out, though, one of my friends from work is throwing a fourth of july barbecue this weekend with some of his old army buddies."

"and you're thinking of going?" you ask with a chuckle. "wow, i never thought i'd see the day when michael robinavitch would willingly take a day off."

"haha, very funny," robby replies sarcastically. "with al-hashimi around, i don't feel as conflicted taking days off. but just for that, you're coming along with me."

"are you serious? what am i supposed to do around a bunch of old guys drinking and sharing their war stories?"

robby shrugs. "gets you out of the house. besides, one of them is bound to have a son around your age. maybe you can get yourself a boyfriend."

"i think i'm okay with no boyfriend for a while." he stares at you with a look combined of pity and understanding. he knows why you've come to the decision of steering clear of men. mainly due to the fact that your now ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you with your now ex-best friend for more than half the time you two had been together. so, you know, not the best relationship ever.

"alright, well, just think about coming with me, okay? jack is a good friend of mine. nice, too. i think the two of you would get along."

"i'll think about it," you promise. "that's all i ask, bug. now you go ahead and get ready for bed. i'll clean up." you nod, handing over your empty plate to him. "night, dad."

"night, bug. love you," he says, pulling you into a side hug and kissing the crown of your head. "love you too."

saturday comes by a lot sooner than expected. robby parks the car on the edge of the curb, just near the driveway. he looks over at you before exiting the car. "just try and have a good time, yeah? if it gets too boring, there's a balcony on the second floor that you can hang out on. i'm sure jack won't mind." you give him a small smile. "don't worry me about me, dad. just focus on enjoying your night off. he mirrors your smile, rubbing his palm over the top of your head. you groan, trying to slap his hand away, making him laugh. "c'mon, bug, let's head inside."

jack's house is huge compared to the apartment that robby lives in. it's two floors with a spacious kitchen and dining room. hell, there's even a living room and a tv room. no way he was able to afford all this while having the same pay as robby. "they must be outside," robby infers, guiding you towards the large french doors that lead to the backyard. you didn't expect the outside to be just as huge as the interior, but you were quickly proven wrong.

just like he told you, there's nothing but guys at this party. most are just sitting around and drinking. and a few of them are hanging in the pool. a couple of them greet robby, eyeing you as you walk past them and to the long table near the grill that holds all the food. he drops a couple beers in the cooler while you set down the brownies he requested you to make. one guy comes up to robby, grabbing a beer from him and making friendly conversation.

"hey, man. it's good to see you. we weren't sure if you'd take the day off to come see us," the man says, slapping robby on the back. "yeah, i'm just as surprised as you. but i decided that a day off could be good for me," robby replies.

"tell me about it. work has been kicking my ass recently. obviously nothing compared to yours and jack's, of course." the man's barely glances at you before doing a double take. "who's this?" he asks, a smirk making its way on his face. "don't even try it, adam," robby warns. "this is my daughter, y/n."

"it's nice to meet you," you greet with a tight lipped smile. the man, adam apparently, puts out his hand for you to shake. you don't. not because you're trying to be rude. you just don't do well with physical touch. especially from strangers. "don't sweat it, sweetheart. it's a pleasure to see a pretty face at one of these things instead of a bunch of old guys." his words make you grimace. they also have an affect on robby, who stands a bit taller and shifts his body in front of yours. but before he can say anything, an unknown voice cuts in.

"adam, back off it. don't harass the girl." even though it's masked as a joke, you can hear the underlying warning. it's enough that adam backs off with his hands held in surrender, before walking away to another part of the backyard. robby turns around to the new man. "thanks, brother," robby says, dabbing him up before pulling him into a quick hug. "don't worry about it. adam can be a piece of work at times." you turn around as well, coming face to face with probably the hottest guy you've ever seen.

he stands a couple inches shorter than robby, but he's larger in size. his biceps strain against the black tee that he wears. and the slightly baggy jeans he has on does nothing to hide that his thighs are fucking huge. his hair is gorgeous, the salt and pepper curls sitting perfectly atop his head.

okay. you need to stop staring before you start drooling. get a grip. like seriously.

thankfully, mystery man doesn't notice you ogling him. if he does, he's kind enough not to mention it. "you must be y/n, i'm jack. robby talks highly of you." he doesn't put his hand out for you to shake. he must've noticed that you didn't shake adam's. "uh, you have like, a crazy nice house," you say awkwardly. but it makes him laugh. "i appreciate that. you let me know if there's anything you need, okay?" he's just being a good host, you tell yourself. "yeah, thanks." he nods once at you, a gentle smile on his face, before slapping robby on the back and heading towards the grill. "told you he'd be nice," robby mutters, bumping your shoulder once with his.

the barbecue ends up not being bad as you thought it would be. most of your time is spent sitting beside robby and eating. some of the guys ask you questions, but other than that, you're mainly silent. not like you mind it, though. you hate pointless small talk with others. by now, the sun has set, and people are starting to shoot off some fireworks. the guys have also gotten a little more drunk as the night goes on, making the environment louder than before. so it's no surprise to robby when you politely excuse yourself to a quieter area.

when entering back into the house, you remember what robby had told you earlier about there being a balcony you could escape to. you walk up the stairs and down the hallway. you're cautious when looking for said balcony. the last thing you want is for jack to assume you're some weirdo trying to snoop in his house. as if fate is on your side, there's a bedroom door cracked open at the end of the hall. and when you peek inside, you can see the balcony door open across the room.

there's two chairs placed on the small surface, both of which are facing towards the skyline. minutes go by of silence and the occasional firework. jack's neighborhood is relatively quiet. you take a hit of your vape when you hear a familiar voice. "those things aren't good for you, you know," jack scolds playfully, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. you can't help it when your eyes drop down to forearms. "even on your day off, you're still giving doctor's advice?" you tease. he shrugs, moving to the chair beside you. a soft groan escapes him as he sits down. "what can i say, i'm just a caring individual."

you chuckle softly. "it's just a bad habit i picked up in college. i hope you don't mind me being up here. dad said that it was a good place for me if it got too loud."

"don't worry about it. robby had mentioned that loud and crowded spaces get you nervous at times, so i set up the chairs out here just in case you needed to get away."

jack's words take you by surprise. he did that for you? before tonight, he'd just heard stories about you from robby. yet he's singlehandedly done the most thoughtful act anyone has ever done for you. "that's really nice of you. thank you." you start to feel how warm your cheeks are, so you look away before he notices the soft blush on them. "it's beautiful tonight," you murmur, admiring the night sky. "yeah, it is," he agrees. but you're too focused on the fireworks to notice he's looking at you. "how are you liking pittsburgh so far?"

"slowly but surely i'm getting used to it. it's definitely different than roseburg, but overall, i like it here. it's more lively and has more opportunities."

"robby told me you were a drama major, is that right?"

"i am, yeah. i know it's not the most useful degree, but..." you just shrug, unsure of what to say. "hey, a degree is a degree. from what i've heard, you're pretty talented. you been in anything?"

"nothing major, no. a few local commercials and i was a background character in a horror movie a couple years ago."

"well, i'm sure any agency would be glad to have you." god, could jack be anymore perfect? you've only known him for what, a couple hours? and somehow he's raised the bar for you by miles.

a gust of wind blows by, making you shiver. maybe wearing shorts and a tank top with no jacket wasn't the best idea. "you cold?" jack asks. "a little, but i'm okay. you don't have to-" halfway through your sentence he stands up and goes into the room connected to the balcony. now that you're looking at it, you realize that it's his bedroom. oh my god. he comes back out with a navy blue blanket in hand, draping it over your legs that you pulled up to your chets. "there you go." the blanket itself is soft and warm, like it recently came out of the dryer.

"you know, you don't have to feel inclined to stay. i'm sure being down there is a lot more fun than up here with me," you suggest. "nah, i like it up here. besides, you are a lot more fun than those guys, believe me, sweetheart. a lot less drunk too." you like the way he calls you sweetheart. it feels less icky than when adam called you it. you barely notice how much times passes by.

unlike most people, jack doesn't attempt to fill the silence with forced conversation. the questions he asks are sincere, like he actually wants to know about you. and your responses come out so naturally that it doesn't feel like jack was a complete stranger until tonight. you only know that it's gotten late when robby comes searching for you. "bug? there you are," he says, walking out on the balcony. "hey, brother, what are you doing up here?"

"just getting to know the little movie star. you planning on heading out?" jack asks. "yeah, it's getting late and i promised dana that i would come in tomorrow to make up for missing today. you ready to head out, bug?" you nod, stretching as you stand up. "thanks for the blanket, jack," you say, folding it and setting it down on the chair. "you're welcome. c'mon, let me walk the two you of out."

robby leaves the balcony first, then you, and then jack. as you walk downstairs, you nearly miss the last step. but just before you take a tumble, jack catches you with a hand on the small of your back. "careful there. that step is rickety," he mutters. you can feel how warm his breath is on the back of your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

once outside, jack pulls robby into a quick hug. "thanks for coming tonight, it was good seeing you outside of work."

"i appreciated the invite. you coming in tomorrow?"

jack shrugs. "we'll see how my leg is feeling. it's been killing me all day." robby claps him on the shoulder, the closest thing to comfort that he'll give. "well, just let me know. i'll see you around, brother."

"see ya, brother." robby waves, before hopping inside the car. "and you," jack points at you, "don't be a stranger, yeah? it's nice having a new and pretty face around."

"you got it..." you're unsure of what to call him. you know that his last name is abbot from the small background robby gave you on the drive here. calling him dr. abbot would be too formal. but would jack be too casual? you just met him, so you don't know. "jack. you can call me jack, sweetheart," he assures.

there it is again. sweetheart. and that smile... god, you're gonna need a cold shower when you get home. "alright, you got it, jack. might have to take you up on the offer and try out that pool of yours," you say jokingly. "it's open to you anytime you want it," he retorts. but he means it. "have a good night."

"you too," you reply, waving goodbye. now in the car, robby looks over at you. "you feeling okay? you're looking a little warm."

"huh? oh, yeah, i'm fine. i must've got heat exhaustion or something." sure, heat exhaustion. it looks like he almost doesn't believe you, but chooses not to argue. "alright, well, drink some water and electrolytes when we get home. and put a cold towel around your neck."

"you got it, dad." robby then pulls off of the curb, making a u-turn and driving away. the whole drive home, your thoughts are stuck on jack. you're not sure what will cure whatever it is that jack is making you feel.

you end up not seeing jack for almost two weeks since that night. in those two weeks, you've done everything in your power to get him off your mind. you ended up getting the job at the record store, taking shifts pretty much whenever possible so you could rake in money for yourself. you did a few auditions here and there, but had no luck in getting callbacks. hell, you've even rearranged your room more times than you could count whenever thoughts of him flooded your mind at night.

by this point, you believed that luck was not on your side. until robby called you on your way home from work. "hey, bug, i hope i'm not bothering you while you're at work, but i'm gonna have to pull a double tonight."

"everything okay?"

"as okay as it can be, i guess. there was a pretty big pileup and the closest hospital is ours so we're gonna need all hands on deck basically," robby explains.

"okay, well, i can bring you dinner if you want."

"you don't have to if you can't, bug."

"dad, really it's fine. besides, i just left work so i don't mind it," you insist.

robby sighs over the phone, knowing how stubborn you are. "alright. you can come in through the ambulance bay, it'll be faster. i'll let ahmad know you're stopping by."

"sounds good. love you."

"love you too, stay safe."

due to the aftermath of the pileup, it takes you longer than expected to pickup the food and get to the hospital. thankfully, though you don't run into any complications when arriving through the ambulance bay. a man in a security uniform waves you in and politely nods. that must be ahmad. you head towards the nurses station, looking for dana. but you instead find an unfamiliar, older woman.

"hello," you greet with a soft smile. "can you please tell me where dr. robby is?" she's not nearly as friendly with you as you were with her. "are you a patient?"

"no, ma'am, i'm not."

"are you the family member of a patient?"

"no-"

"then why are you here? matter of fact, how did you get in here? so leave, before i call security on you."

you're grateful for the familar voice that cuts in. "monica! this is robby's daughter, y/n, that's why she's here. how about you go take a smoke break, huh?" dana suggets. monica eyes you up and down with clear disdain, especially at your outfit. she mumbles something about 'this generation nowadays' before walking outside to the ambulance bay. "sorry about her, honey, monica can be a real piece of work sometimes," dana apologizes once she's gone.

"it's alright, i'm fine," you reply. "can you tell me where dad is?"

"he's in trauma room one right now. why? something wrong?" dana puts on her glasses, ready to examine whatever injury you might have. "no, nothing's wrong. i just brought him some dinner since he's pulling a double. do you think he'll be out anytime soon?"

"i don't think so, hun. the patient he got was in a pretty rough state when they came in." you nod, understanding. "okay, well, can you give it to him when he's done? i know that if anyone else does it he won't listen and actually eat the food." she laughs, tapping you on the arm. "you got it. come back and visit more often, yeah?"

"yes, ma'am, see ya!" she waves goodbye, you do the same. as you walk out, you glance down at your phone for maybe a second, before running into a brick wall. no, it's definitely not a brick wall. because a brick wall doean't smell like sandalwood. also because two large hands grab you by your biceps to steady you. "jack," you breathe out.

"gotta be more careful, sweetheart. i can't always stop you from falling," he teases. "what brings you around here?"

"i brought dad some dinner for tonight."

he hums softly. "it's good to see you again. you doing alright?"

"i am, yeah. how about you?"

"better now that you're here." jesus christ, if you weren't surrounded by ambulances and complete strangers, you probably would've jumped his bones right here and now. "hey, are you free this weekend?" he suddenly asks.

"uh, i should be. why?" please be a date, you think over and over. "i was thinking about inviting you and robby over for dinner. it would be nice to get to know you more," he instead says. hopefully, you mask your disappointment well. "that would be great, yeah. i'll let him know."

"alright, well, i need to give you my number so we can smooth out the details." you put your phone in his outstretched hand, watching as he punches in his number. "well, i should probably head in there soon. but hopefully i'll see you this weekend?"

"yeah, this weekend," you echo.

"cute shirt, by the way," jack says, fingers lightly brushing the thin strap of your flowery top as he passes. it doesn't occur to you until you get home that robby already has jack's number.

jack never needed to give you his.

friday night, you receive a text from jack's contact who saved himself in your phone as 'jack 😎'. the single emoji makes you laugh softly.

the next day, you spend all morning trying to figure out what to wear. you know that it technically isn't a date, but you still want to look nice. but nothing too forward. god, this is hard. you land on something basic, but reason that it'll be good enough. jack offers to pick you up, but you insist that you can drive yourself. so he texts you his address.

jack greets you at the door with a gentle smile. "i'm glad you could make it, sweetheart. dinner's already made. i set it out on the patio if that's okay."

"that's perfect," you assure.

"alright, follow me then."

you're surprised by how all out jack has gone for this dinner. a fresh bouquet of flowers sit in a glass vase right in the middle of the table, with small candles lit around it. "you did all of this?"

"yeah, i did," he responds. like it's no big deal. "why? you don't like it?"

"huh? no, i do. it looks amazing. i just wish i would've known you were going all out. i would've worn something a little more nicer than this," you say, gesturing towards your outfit. he looks at it up and down. "i think you look beautiful the way you're dressed now," he replies without a second thought. "now let's eat before it gets cold." he moves over to the atble, pulling out your chair for you. even pushing you in once you're sitting down.

jack takes his place across from you, plating your food first before his. "i wasn't sure what you liked to eat, but i figured that you can't really go wrong with pasta. and i also assumed that you don't drink alcohol because i didn't see you drink during the party. but i noticed you drinking diet coke. is that fine?" it makes you smile to see how attentive he is. he cares so much to impress you at the moment that you're almost taken aback. "everything is perfect. like, seriously. the food is amazing too," you praise.

jack's shoulders drop just a bit, like the praise you've just given him was exactly what he needed to hear. he hasn't done something like this in years. not since the passing of his wife. so it feels good to hear that he's doing this right. "robby told me you got a new job?"

"yeah, i did. i work at the record store down 5th."

"how are you liking it?"

"it's good so far. it's close to the house, and the owner and all the staff is really nice. but i don't see it as like, a forever career, obviously. i'm mainly just working there so i can save away money to move out of dad's place. i just feel bad for free loading or whatever," you ramble, a little embarrassed when you realize that you added on a lot more details than needed. but jack doesn't seem to care. he doesn't even seem to notice. he's just sitting there and listening. "you know, your dad doesn't see it that way. he loves you a lot," he reassures.

"yeah, i know. but dad has already done so much for me, you know? he's always been there for me since i can remember."

"was he friends with your birth dad?"

you shake your head. "no, he was friends with my mom. they grew up together, actually. same neighborhood, same school. they were really close. apparently, everyone used to say that they wouldn't be surprised if the two of them ended up marrying each other. it obviously never happened because he went away to new orleans to do his residency. when he came back, my mom was already married with a little girl. i remember being so young and telling people i couldn't wait to become a doctor like my uncle robby." you recall the memory with a small laugh. for your seventh birthday, he even bought you one of those play doctor kits.

"why didn't you?" jack asks softly.

"my mom got diagnosed with stage four breast cancer when i was sixteen. it was just really hard, you know? to see her so weak and sick when i so used to seeing her lively. she passed a few months after the diagnosis. after that, i just couldn't see myself being surrounded by sickness and death."

you had never told anyone that before. besides robby, no one knew about your old dreams of being a doctor. you're not sure why you tell jack all of that. but there's just something about him that seems so trustworthy. but you appreciate that he doesn't look at you with pity like everyone else does. instead he almost looks... understanding of you and your pain.

"i, uh, i lost my wife to breast cancer. about ten years ago now," he admits quietly. "it's good to talk about them, the people you've lost. just because they're gone doesn't mean the relationship is done."

"amen to that," you say, tipping your soda towards him. the small gesture makes him laugh. and the previously solemn air feels lighter. like maybe two people have just felt a little less lonely than before.

dinner unsurprisingly continues to go well after that. jack asks you all kinds of questions, and you answer them all with enthusiasm. you notice that he doesn't really talk much himself. not for a lack of trying, though. whenever you would attempt to let him chime in or change the conversation topic, he would turn it back around on you. "i feel bad. i'm doing all the talking," you say. "good thing for you, sweetheart, i like listening," he retorts.

once dinner is over, you try to help him out by washing the dishes. but he comes up from behind, grabbing your hips as he moves to the side. "jack, c'mon, i'm trying to help out," you argue, but he clicks his tongue, shaking his head while rinsing the utensils. "you're my guest, meaning you don't do the cleaning up."

"are you sure? i don't mind helping."

"positive. go ahead and hop in the pool if you want. there's a bathroom down the hall for you to change in."

you nod, knowing that no amount of convincing will change his mind. grabbing your purse off of one of the chairs in the dining room, you head down the hall and towards one of the doors. "uh uh, to your left, sweetheart. there you go," he says, leading you to the correct door. thank god your back is turned so he can't see how warm your face gets. you shouldn't feel so aroused at what he said. they're normal, everyday words! but it's just how he said it... you throw some cold water on your face to snap out of it.

jack is robby's best friend. and whether blood related or not, you still see robby as your dad. it would probably give him a heart attack to see his surrogate daughter all over his best friend. besides, jack doesn't see you that way. he's just being nice. he had mentioned he was born in south carolina. it's just that southern hospitality or whatever. he definitely has southern charm, that's for sure.

quickly, you realize that the bikini you packed is probably not the most appropriate. it's not scandalous, and even if it was who gives a fuck, but it's also not the best to wear around a man that you barely know. not that jack would do anything, at least you hope not. but it was the only one you had unpacked. you peek your head out of the bathroom to look towards the kitchen and see if jack is still there. oddly, he's not. fully stepping out, you realize that he's nowhere to be seen. he's probably outside. but when you go out there, his presence can't be found. must be upstairs, then.

slowly, you sink into the shallow end of the pool. inch by inch since it's so cold, causing goosebumps to rise in your skin. to be honest, pools were never really your thing. being an only child and only having older cousins meant never getting to experience playing mermaids with someone your age. but you enjoy the calming effect that water has on you. so most of the time, you just end up awkwardly floating around until your fingers prune.

the sound of a chair being scraped across the concrete breaks you out of your thoughts.

looking behind you, you see jack sitting down, rubbing at his right knee. "you're not coming in?" you ask and he shakes his head. "can't," he replies. just as you're about to question why, he tugs up his right pant leg, displaying the metal prosethtic. "sometimes the chlorine really messes with it."

"oh, i'm sorry," you apologize, a bit sheepish now after not knowing about his disability. "no need to say sorry, sweetheart. you didn't know," he says, shrugging it off. "people have said and reacted a lot worse when seeing it."

you let a few seconds pass before asking, "does it hurt?"

"sometimes it can, yeah. if i keep the prosthetic on for long periods of time, it'll put pressure and dig into my skin. and once in a while, i'll get phantom pain where my leg once was," he explains. he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it too long before changing the topic. "you liking the pool?"

"it's really nice. wish i had my own on days when it gets unbearably hot."

"then come over whenever you want. not like anyone else is using it," he simply says, pulling out a cigarette and lighter. you smirk softly. "those things aren't good for you, you know," you say, mocking his words from the other night. he mirrors your smirk. "you gonna stop me from smoking it, sweetheart?" jack asks, smoke spilling out the side of his mouth as he talks.

you hold up your hands in fake surrender. "let me have a hit?" and he nods, holding it out to you. "i don't wanna accidentally drop it or something." playfully he rolls his eyes. "forgot how clumsy you are," he teases. "c'mere then." you push yourself up, forearms resting on the edge of the pool. it takes all the restraint in him to not look down at the way your cleavage is pushed up in this position.

jack takes one long drag of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his mouth. he beckons with his pointer and middle finger to come closer, which you do. his nose brushes yours as he leans in to let the smoke travel from his mouth to yours. your lips touch, just barely, but it's enough for him to groan at the feeling. once the smoke is gone, you move away. but only slightly.

jack glances down at your bikini. just this once, he reasons. red, white, and blue. cute. "did you buy it for the fourth?" you shake your head. "not for this one. i bought it a couple years ago for a pool party with my boyfriend."

"you still got one?"

"got what? a boyfriend?"

"yeah, a boyfriend," he confirms. "a pretty girl like you must have one."

"no, i don't. not since i found out that he was cheating on me for three out of the five years we were dating."

jack tsks, flicking some of the ash off the cigarette. "it's his loss then. should've known that he had the best he's ever gonna get." you snort softly. "you're just saying that," you say, but he shakes his head. "no, i mean it. he wouldn't know how to handle you, anyways."

you raise an eyebrow. this is definitely getting interesting now. "oh, really? what, and you do?" you wonder if jack knows what you're doing. which, of course he does. he's not blind. and much to your luck, he taks the bait. "yeah, sweetheart, i do."

seconds, minutes, maybe even hours pass as the two of you just stare. you're not sure who, but someone leans in first, closing the distance between you. the second your lips touch his, jack doesn't hold back. he lets the cigarette fall from between his fingers, stomping it out beneath his shoe. his hands come up to hold the sides of your face, pulling you as close as possible. one of your hands reach out towards the edge of the pool to stabilize yourself.

you tilt your head to the side, deepening the kiss. jack's tongue swipes across your bottom lip, silently requesting access. and you give it to him, obviously. you moan softly, which makes him smirk against your lips. the kiss continues for a few seconds more, with quiet sounds escaping the both of you. he pulls away first. a soft whine slips from your mouth. his thumb bumps your bottom lip, wiping away the single strand of spit connecting your lips to his.

"don't be like that, baby. i'll take care of you. want me to do that?" he asks and you nod, but that's not enough for him. "use your words, c'mon."

"i want you to take care of me, jack. please," you breathe out. ever the gentleman, jack helps you out of the pool, careful not to let you slip. he's now given a better view of you in your bikini. the wet cloth sticks to your skin, water droplets dripping down your smooth thighs. but that's not what intrigues him. well, correction, everything about you intrigues him. but there's a belly button piercing that catches his eye. it has a silver bar and jewel, with the little playboy bunny logo dangling.

"when did you get this?" jack asks, brushing at the piercing. "when i was seventeen. after my mom's passing, i kinda went through this rebellious phase. getting this piercing was one of the first things i did," you explain. "why? you like it?"

he nods. "yeah, i do," he rasps, "let's take this upstairs, okay, baby?" you let out a small 'okay', letting him gently drag you into the house.

you can't believe it. you really can't believe it. no way did you ever think that coming to jack's house tonight was gonna result in you two hooking up. not that you're really complaining, though.

you smile to yourself. he likes my piercing, you think as you walk up the stairs. your ex hated your piercing. always claimed that it was a poor excuse to slut yourself out. yeah, well, he was a fucking dick so who cares now.

once in the room, jack shuts the door behind you two before pulling you into another breath stealing kiss. it's shorter than the first, but not any less passionate. he grabs at your hips, moving you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bedframe and you fall onto the bed. his body cages yours, forearms resting on either side of your head. pulling away from your lips, he begins to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. he bites you on your pulse point before sticking out his tongue to soothe the aching spot. you moan, bucking up your hips to meet his, feeling his growing bulge.

you hope that he leaves a mark. selfishly, jack does too. one of his hands sneaks into your bikini bottoms, swiping at your entrance. a soft groan escapes him when he feels how wet you are. "fuck, baby. all this f'me?" you nod rapidly. "yes, jack, it's all for you. just, please," you beg, pushing up against his hand for anything. any kind of friction to soothe this aching feeling. "please what, huh? use your big girl words again."

you let out a soft huff. it's almost humiliating to admit how needy you are right now. but you know won't get what you want, what you need, if you don't speak up. "i want you to fuck me, jack. please, jackie, please," you admit, breathing heavily.

jack smiles against your neck. licking a long stripe from the base of your neck to behind your ear. he then presses a small kiss there. "that's it, sweetheart. that's what i wanna hear." he pulls away to look at you. "but not yet, okay? i gotta ease you into it." he slides down to the floor in a prayer position, ignoring the way his leg starts aching. instead, grabbing at your thighs to pull you closer. "hand me that pillow beside you," he softly commands, gesturing to the light gray one to your left. you do as he says, tossing it to him so he can place it beneath his prosthetic.

slowly, jack starts to tug down your bikini bottoms, inch by inch, before your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. "what are you doing?" you ask hesitantly. "i told you. let me ease you into it. but if you don't wanna do this, that's okay too, baby," he replies, already moving to stand up, but you pull him back in. "no, i want this, please. i just didn't expect you to, you know, eat me out," you admit. truth be told, your ex never did that. always said it was gross, despite the multiple times he would make you go down on him. his form of 'foreplay' was roughly fingering you for like five seconds before putting it in.

jack is able to pick up on what you don't say. this is your first time getting this kind of treatment. "i'll go slow with you, okay? if it gets too much for you, tap on my shoulder twice."

"okay, i trust you," you whisper, nodding once as a sign for him to continue. jack finishes tugging your bikini bottoms down, letting them fall onto the ground beneath him. he begins to kiss up the insides of your thighs. the light stubble on his jaw rubs against your skin, making you shiver. he starts with short kitten licks on your cunt. the sensation is nothing like you've ever felt before. he goes slow, but in the best way possible. it keeps you right on the edge.

jack keeps his left hand on your thigh, pinning it down to the bed. but his right ends up between your legs. he starts with his pointer, slowly sliding it in. his fingers are longer, thicker. reaching places that you never could when by yourself. a soft moan slips from your lips. "you like that?" he asks, voice muffled.

"yes! yes, jack. more please." and how can he deny you when you ask so nicely? he pumps his finger in and out faster, simultaneously speeding up his tongue. he slips a second finger in. this one hits you just right. another moan from you. this one louder than before. there it is, he thinks to himself. he starts to lick at your clit. the two sensations combined feel like heaven on earth. he keeps the same pace. only slowing down when he feels you getting close. he hopes that you know he's not trying to be mean. he wants this to last for you.

it all feels so good that your legs start to shake. he forces one of your legs open with his free hand. a coil in your belly starts to tighten when he keeps hitting your g-spot over and over and over. "jack, 'm so close. please, right there. just- ugh, fuck, keep going," you whine, fingers digging into his sheets. you're fisting the sheets so tightly that you might rip them. jack lets go of your thigh to grab that hand. he squeezes it once. a silent 'i got you'. he brushes against your g-spot one last time, sucking on your clit, before you come. it rushes out of you so hard that you almost see stars. without meaning to, your thighs clamp around his head as a multitude of moans escape you. not like he minds it, though. he's happy right where he is.

finally, jack pulls away, moving to hover over you again. "you doing okay, sweet girl?" he notices your eyes are shut. when you don't respond, he lightly slaps your thigh. your eyes open. "i'm sorry. it's just... i haven't come like that in a really long time. kinda took me out for a sec," you reply. "do you think you can keep going?" he questions. he's not gonna push you if you don't want to. you nod. "i can. besides, i can't just leave you hanging." your eyes flick down to the bulge straining against his jeans.

fuck, even in his pants he looks huge.

"c'mere," you mutter, pulling him in by his chin to makeout with him. your sudden burst of dominance makes jack groan into your mouth. your hands tug at the hem of his shirt with a soft whimper. a silent plea that you need this stupid fabric off of him. he obliges. breaking away from the kiss for just a second. the sight of him shirtless distracts you. with the farmers tan on his thick arms, the freckles across the expanse of his chest, and his soft belly. "like what you see, sweetheart?" he asks. "fuck, yeah, i do," you reply, before pulling him back in for a kiss.

his large fingers tangle into the wet strands of your hair. you blindly fumble with his belt, unable to get a firm grasp on it. he reaches down with his right hand, though, undoing the button and zipper easily.

pulling down his boxers and jeans in one go, jack's cock springs free, slapping against the ridge of his soft abs. your ex was average, only around five inches. but jack? he's huge, just like you expected. seven, maybe even pushing seven and a half inches. but not only that, he's girthy as shit. now you understand why he couldn't just fuck you right away. you swallow nervously, eyes darting between his face and cock. "will it even fit?" you ask soflty. he presses a quick kiss on your forehead. "i'll be gentle. i won't rush you, promise."

jack leans over to search through his nightstand for a condom. when he doesn't see the familiar gold foil, he mutters a quiet expletive. "shit, baby, i'm sorry. i don't have any condoms-" he begins to say, but you cut him off, blurting, "that's fine! i mean, i'm on the pill," you correct yourself. "so i'm okay with it if you are." he nods once. "only since you're said it's okay, yeah? but if it gets too much, you let me know," he reminds. he grips the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. then, slowly, he begins to push himself in.

the initial push takes your breath away. he then adds another inch, then another. by this point, he's barely halfway in and still has you letting out soft mewls. the burn of his thick cock splitting you open is new, but not unpleasant. inch by inch, he enters in you before he's fully nestled inside of you. both of you let out similar moans of pleasure. he doesn't move for a few seconds, allowing you to get used to his size. you feel so full you almost can't breathe. it's like the tip sits right under your sternum, leaving you to feel nothing but him. gradually, he begins to move back and forth, cock dragging against the walls of your cunt.

it doesn't take long for him to find your g-spot once again. you let out a quiet whimper when he does. but this time, he doesn't move fast, like with his fingers. his movements are slow and calculated. right now isn't about him. it's about you and giving you the pleasure that you deserve. he won't allow himself to come until you do. he hits that gummy spot over and over.

you drag your nails down his back, before digging them into the skin between his shoulder blades. a quiet groan escapes him when you do. he likes it, you realize. as his cock pulses inside you. "you feel that, huh? got me all hard and pent up. that's what you've done to me. haven't been able to get you out of my mind since we first met. you and those little shorts. you're just so gorgeous, baby," he praises, which makes you moan and clench around him.

"fuck, jackie, 'm close. please, let me come, please," you beg.

"yeah? you wanna come, baby?" jack teases and you nod rapidly. "i bet your ex never fucked you like this, huh?" you shake your head. he lightly slaps you on your cheek, just enough to make you look at him. "come on, sweetheart, words. i bet your ex never fucked you like this," he repeats.

"no! no, he never did. not like you, jackie. mhm, shit, you feel so good."

"yeah, that's what i like to hear. come on, sweetheart, come on my cock. you got it, i know you do." he moves one of his hands back down to start thumbing at your clit, just enough to push you right over the edge. barely three seconds later, you come around him with a scream. thanking god that he doesn't live in an apartment complex. your cunt clenches around him as you come, giving him enough stimulation to follow suit. but he pulls out at the last second, coming on your stomach with a groan.

nobody moves for minutes. both of you needing that time to catch your breath. jack start gets up first, tucking himself back into his jeans. "i'll be back, just lie down," he says, kissing you on your temple. he leaves into the bathroom, before coming back out, a wet rag in hand. he cleans off his release from your stomach, moving down to wipe at your cunt. the cold rag makes you shiver and whine, attempting to close your legs. "shh, it's okay, baby. let me clean you up first," he coos, wiping you down as gentle as he can. once done, he tosses the rag in the same corner of the room as his shirt. "can you stand up?"

you grumble, attempting to roll over. "i'm too tired."

"i know, but you gotta go pee first. then we can go to bed." jack pulls you into his arms bridal style, quietly hissing at the ache in his back and leg. he carries you all the way into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet. leaving you to do your business as he finds you something to sleep in. a pair of boxers and old army shirt will do. just as you're finishing up washing your hands is when he returns. "you can sleep in these for tonight." you mutter a quiet 'thanks.'

jack turns around, giving you some privacy to change. it makes you giggle softly. the man just rearranged your guts and fucked you so well less than ten minutes ago, yet he's still not watching you as you change. "i'm done," you say, and he turns back around. the dark green shirt falls just above your knees, slipping off one of shoulder. the ends of your hair slightly curl from getting wet earlier, and you have that after sex glow. you look beautiful right now. he must realize that he's staring, because he clears his throat and steps to the side. "uh, you can lie down. i'll finish cleaning myself up," he says, to which you nod.

the second your head hits the pillow you're knocked out. from swimming to fucking, you're body is completely drained. about thirty minutes later, jack comes back out. grey hair wet with water dripping down his chest. he's careful to not make any noise on his crutches as he moves towards the bed. sitting down on his side, he leans the crutches on the wall, before rubbing some moisturizer on his stump. he slides under the covers, instinctively wrapping his arms around your waist. even in your sleep you lean into him. head on his chest, right above his heart. "sweet dreams, baby," he murmurs into your hair, kissing the top of your head.

it hits jack in this exact moment that he just slept with the goddaughter of his best friend. he should probably stop it before it happens again. before feelings arise and emotions get in the way. but it's too late. now that he's had you, he doesn't think he can let go.

"How did you get two?" Craig always teases J when both you and Nicky are around.

You always make the same fuckin' face of disgust. You've known J since you two were in kindergarten. You couldn't imagine him as anything more than a brother. He spent a lot of time at yours when his mother was strung out.

You hate spending time at the Codys', but J is your best friend, and you'll do anything for him. Because you worry about him.

One morning you arrive at the house, hoping to catch J early so you two can go surfing. But the place is unusually quiet, and you are greeted not by your friend or his grandmother (thankfully), but by Andrew Cody. They all call him Pope.

Pope has been watching you since you first arrived at the house. He watches how you flinch at the loud noises, how you recoil from his brother's touches. Unlike his nephew's girlfriend, you don't giggle with Smurf. You get in and get out. But he likes watching you. He likes that you sometimes go and sit in J's (his) room when things get too noisy. That you just want to be away from it all.

You're far too sweet to be around him or his family. But he'd like to corrupt you.

"He's not here," he says simply as way of greeting as he stands in the doorway.

"Well do you want the coffee I got for him?" you ask as you hold up the cups you're holding. "I don't know what typa coffee you like but I don't want it t' go t' waste."

Pope's eyes soften immediately, "Do you need money?"

In the last few years, J has started saying shit like that to you. And you don't like it. You're putting yourself through college. You're working in a shitty bar. You don't wanna be like your mother. She never went to college, married your dad right away outta high school. She relied on him for everything. And while you weren't dating and would never date J, you didn't want to rely on him.

"No. I got money. But I don't wanna waste it," you respond before sighing. "Look. If J comes back tell him there's supposed to be a good swell today and I'll be at the beach."

Pope takes the coffee from your hand, his rough fingers brushing over your soft skin, making you shiver involuntarily.

"I can come," he tells you.

You blink in confusion. Pope is a man of few words. You're aware of this from the times you have spent in his presence. Sometimes he'll sit with you and watch TV when J is busy.

"To the beach," he clarifies.

"You surf?" you respond, taking a sip of your iced latte.

He gives you a half smile. A rare sight.

"I'm also from California," he responds simply.

"Okay, well, get your stuff. I don't wanna miss it," you say with a shy smile.

You can't believe that you're willingly spending one-on-one time with one of J's uncles. But all things considered, Pope isn't the worst. Yeah, he's a bit strange. But there's something...calming about him. Maybe it was the time you fell asleep on the couch and woke up to him carrying you to bed. You slightly panicked, but he just placed you down and walked away.

"We'll take my truck," he tells you as he comes back dressed in his wetsuit. He hasn't put it on fully, so he's naked from the waist up. You inhale sharply at the sight of his bulging muscles under his sun-kissed skin. You're not expecting the sight. And you're not expecting your body to react that way. You're not expecting your cheeks to heat up or the heat growing in your stomach.

"Lemme grab my things," you say when you finally catch yourself.

You grab your board and your suit from your car. You're going to change at the beach like you always do. You've never been alone with Pope before. Not like this. He's quiet, stoic, as you make the short trip to the beach. He doesn't play music in his car. He just drives.

"Lemme get changed, and I'll meet you out there," you say to him with a smile.

He shakes his head, "I'll wait."

You bite your lip as you wiggle out of your jean shorts and the crochet shirt you're wearing over your floral bikini top. You don't notice how Pope's eyes wander over your body. He takes you in, hazel eyes examining every inch of you. The way your skin glows under the hot Californian sun. He lets out a soft breath at the way your breasts bounce as you jump to get your wetsuit up.

"Will you zip me up?" you ask him, turning around to offer him access to you.

You both know that you're capable of zipping up your wetsuit alone. But Pope won't argue and gently brushes your hair away from your back, he moves it over your shoulder and then zips you up. He moves closer than necessary so he can inhale your sweet scent.

"Want me to do you?" you ask him nodding to his wetsuit.

Pope gives you that half smile again before shrugging into his wetsuit and turning around to let you zip him up. You brush your fingers up the soft skin of his back and you watch as the muscles ripple under your touch. You shouldn't be doing this. But you zip him up nonetheless and spend the morning in the surf with him. With a man literally old enough to be your father.

Soon it becomes your routine. You and Pope meet on the beach every Friday morning and spend hours surfing and talking. Sometimes Pope will come into the bar during your shift. He nurses a whiskey and tips you far too well. If he comes into the bar, he'll wait for your shift to end to walk you to your car. He's scary. And you don't mind having your little guard dog.

Then, you find him at the entrance of the bar every night as your shift ends. Just so he can walk you to your car. It's just across the parking lot but you like it. Sometimes he'll sit in your car with you and hear you rant about your shift.

"This is gonna be our last Friday surf," you tell him as he carries both of your boards to his car.

He looks so hurt, like a kicked puppy.

"I go back to college next week," you tell him as you shake the salt water out of your hair. He watches as the water droplets slide down the valley of your breasts. "We can try Saturdays instead? Or Sundays? Unless you're busy?"

"Never too busy for you," he says quickly.

You don't expect to meet Pope Cody on your doorstep on your first day of your senior year of college. This time he's holding a coffee, although it's clearly one he made at home as it's in a mug. You can't help but smile at him.

"I thought you might want a ride to school," he says as he looks at you over his sunglasses.

"And how am I meant t' get home?" you respond as you take a sip of the coffee he made you. Just how you like it.

"You call me and I'll come get'cha," he responds.

So this is how the first semester goes. Pope Cody is your personal chauffeur, your bodyguard and your surf partner. He's become a closer friend to you than J. And J notices. Finally. It just took the better part of the year.

J has started to notice that you don't mind coming over for parties anymore. But when you're there, you're more often than not with Pope. Pope will bring you over a drink. Pope will watch you as you speak to whatever girls have been stupid enough to come over. Pope will sit by you when you're sick of standing. And Pope will go inside with you when you get chilly or bored with his brothers being obnoxious.

And J doesn't like it. When the fuck did you become best friends with the scariest of his uncles?

You and Pope are whispering together in the kitchen. He's got new wax for his board and offers to do yours too. You nod, telling him to come around later that evening.

"What are you two talkin' about?" J asks with a little huff on his face.

"Surfin'," you respond with a shrug before you walk out to the pool.

"You screwin' her or something?" J hisses at his uncle.

Pope just looks at his nephew down his nose and walks away following you out to the pool with a towel for when you come out of the water. He's not going to rise to that. And he doesn't want J to know he has been fantasising about you since that first day on the beach. He doesn't want J or you to know that he's been watching you sleep for months. You should get better locks on your apartment door. You look so pretty when you sleep.

You also talk in your sleep. One night as he sits in the corner of your room, you start to whimper. He presumes you're having a nightmare until he hears you whimper his name. Not Pope, the monkier his family gave him. No, you whimper Andrew.

Oh, Andrew, yes! Please!

He had no choice but to grab a pair of your panties. Used panties. He inhales your scent before shoving them in his pocket. He breathes them in as soon as he gets to his own bedroom and jerks off into his hand. Thinking of the way you moaned his name in your sleep.

And he needs to figure out a way to hear it from you for real.

Since J has been an asshole, you've gotten more touchy with Pope. Not when Smurf is around though. You're not that stupid. At first, he's worried that you're doing it to make J jealous. But you'll hug Pope as greeting when he arrives at your apartment. No audience, just you and him. You brush your hand up his arm when he's in the kitchen making a drink while his brothers make noise by the pool. But his favourite thing is when you sit on the same lounger as him by the pool. You're not bold enough to climb into his lap. But you'll sit by him, offer to put sun cream on him. You always ask him to do your back and shoulders.

Sometimes after you settle yourself between the V of his thighs...only sometimes when his brothers aren't around you'll lie back on him. Relaxing against the hard muscle of his stomach.

These moments get added to Pope's fantasies when he's alone with his thoughts at night. The way you shudder under his touch, how soft your skin is. He knows each of your bikinis and he has his favourites. He loves how you wear your bright floral ones when you surf with him. But you go for softer colours when you're poolside with his family. His favourite is a white one that becomes almost sheer when you're in the water. But he doesn't like when his brothers are around to ogle you in it.

"Seriously," J asks you one night as you sit in Deran's bar. "What is going on with you and Pope?"

You look down at your glass and shrug, "You're always doing bullshit. We started surfing together. That's it."

"I heard he brings you to college too. And work?" J pushes.

"What? You got people spying on me? Should I call you Smurf?" you snap.

You don't need this third-degree bullshit. Not from J, who dragged you into this family.

"I even heard he stays over at your apartment," J continues.

"Yea, a few times. He's my friend, J. I don't need you to monitor everyone. Would you be this wound up if it were Craig or Derran?" you ask him.

"It's weird! He's my fuckin' uncle. He was in prison! He's dangerous!" J continues. "And he's old."

You throw your hands up and slam your drink down in one swallow.

"I don't need this bullshit, Joshua. You didn't give your girlfriend this sorta cross examination. Even after she started fuckin' your uncle," you hiss before you storm out.

You don't expect to walk into the wall of thick muscle that is Andrew Cody outside the bar. How did he know you were here? How did he know that you needed him?

"Hey, sugar, you okay?" he asks, steadying you by gripping your waist with his huge, rough hands. You can feel the heat radiating through the flimsy little skirt you wore out.

Pope wonders if you wore this for his nephew. Or some other shithead.

"I just needa go home," you finally answer him.

"Get in the truck," he tells you, firmly.

You just nod your head, the tone he uses goes straight to your core. You press your thighs together and get into his truck. He watches as your skirt rides up and he sees the sweet little floral panties you're wearing. They remind him of the bikinis you love. But seeing this is so much more intimate. Especially because he knows that you didn't mean for him to see it.

Pope is in two minds about going into the bar and beating the shit out of whoever has upset you and going straight to you. But when he sees your face, so open and needy in the truck waiting for him, he crumbles. He goes straight to you.

He drives you home, in silence once again. You're used to it. And you relish it. You needed the quiet. When he parks up, you turn to look at Andrew Cody. Really look at him. His eyes drop after a second of meeting your big eyes.

"Come in, Andrew," you whisper.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He follows you up to your apartment. He's been in your apartment before. By invitation as well as by his own volition. But tonight things are different. Maybe it's because everyone already presumes you're sleeping together. Maybe it's because you're sad and frustrated. Or maybe it's the tension, the touching, the longing glances over the past few months. But you lunge yourself at him. You kiss him hard and messy and desperate. And he kisses you back, tentatively at first but then he gets more desperate. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, you even taste blood as you both devour each other's mouths.

You pull away, "Fuck, Andrew. We shouldn't do this."

You're already so entangled in the Cody family. If you do this. If you cross this line, you'll become one. You know that if you let Pope have you, you'll be ruined. No one else will stand a chance.

"Baby," he growls, pulling you back into a kiss. And you just give in.

You pull at his shirt, needing to see him, needing to feel him against you. His hands are already under your skirt, palming at the flesh of your ass. The two of you are as desperate as each other. You're stumbling around your apartment. Clothes being thrown everywhere...even though Pope wants to fold everything in the back of his mind. But you're pulling him into your bedroom. You fall back onto your bed with his mouth over your breasts. You have no idea when you lost your bra. When Andrew had undressed you to just your floral panties.

You squirm under him as he bites over the swell of your breasts. He's leaving marks that he'll see the next time you go surfing. And he can't lie; he's getting off on the thought alone. You gasp as you feel him rip the fabric of your panties from your body. He lifts them to his face and inhales your sweet scent. A scent he's become addicted to. He grips your thighs and drags you up so you're balancing on your shoulders. He dives into your pussy like a man starved. And he is. He hasn't been dreaming about this for months. At his first taste of you, he cries out in pure desperation. You taste like fucking heaven. He doesn't want to muddy the experience with his fingers. He wants to drink you up. And you let him as he palms at the flesh of your thighs keeping you locked close to him.

You start to squirm harder against him as your orgasm starts to build. You've been dreaming about this moment for so long. But this is so much better than you could have imagined. You cum with a strangled cry, saying his name like a mantra.

Andrew. Andrew. Andrew.

He almost cums in his pants just at the way you moan his name like that. It's even sweeter than how he imagined it.

Pope has had issues getting hard in the past but ever since he started surfing with you, he's been hard enough to pound nails almost constantly.

"Wanna see you," you whisper as he lays you back on your bed. Your voice is still shaky from your orgasm; your whole body feels like an exposed nerve. But you're not done with him. Not a chance. Not when you've finally got him.

Andrew shucks his boxers off and your eyes go wide. You have no idea how he's going to fit inside you. He's huge.

"You okay, sugar?" he breathes, stroking your cheeks.

"You're really big," you confess. Sure, you've seen the print of him against his wetsuits, but you guessed there was fabric and water in the mix. But no...he's just...huge.

Andrew ducks his head shyly, "What? Those other boys were lacking?"

You blush bright red.

"Um...there were no other boys," you finally confess.

Pope's eyes go wide. He looks like the cat who's got the cream. He's going to be your first. He's gonna be the only person who has ever had you.

He kisses you now desperately. He grips the base of his cock, guiding the blunt head of his weeping cock to your entrance. He teases your clit first with his tip. You let out the sweetest little moans for him. And he's not even inside you yet. You're already panting and squirming for him. You're intoxicating, and he's already addicted to you.

Finally, he pushes into you. He has to squeeze his eyes shut at how tight you are. Pope has never been a gentle man. But he's being gentle for you. He'll always be gentle for you. When he finally bottoms out in you, your nails dig into his shoulders. They leave little half moons between his freckles.

"You're so tight, sugar," he breathes, his lips kissing over the shell of your ear.

You just nod, not sure you can form words. You're just so full of him. And when he starts rocking his hips you swear you see heaven. You've never felt this good in your life. Your body is on fire. His hands grip your hips and then slowly begin to explore the rest of your body. He grips your breasts, rough, pulling and flicking your nipples without rhythm. He then slides his hands down your arms, gripping your wrists and dragging them over your head. You both groan as he stretches your body out for him.

His thrusts get faster, harder, rougher. Andrew tried to be gentle, but fuck he needs to carve a path through you. He needs to make you his. No one else has had you and no one else will after he's finished with you. You're his. And only his.

"'m close, Andrew," you whine out as the headboard slams against the wall.

He's pumping in and out of you like a man possessed. The sound of skin on skin fills the room. It's animalistic. It's raw. It's fucking messy. And you cum without another warning. You scream out like a banshee as your orgasm rips through you.

Your pussy grips his cock like a vice and he has to stutter to a stop. He can't move you're so fucking tight, your cunt convulsing around his cock. And fuck, it's the prettiest fucking sight. Andrew presses his forehead against yours as you pull an orgasm from him. He fills you with thick, hot ropes of cum. The release feels like heaven. You swear it spurs on a third orgasm...or it could just be aftershocks from your last one. But it feels so good.

You lay tangled in each other's arms for what feels like hours. His cum seeps out of you and down your legs, cooling against your skin.

Finally, Pope gets up and grabs a wet cloth to clean you up.

"We can't tell Smurf," you say, at the same time as he says, "Smurf can't know."

At least you're on the same page. You both know that Smurf doesn't like it when her boys are distracted. She'll allow it for a time. But not for long. Especially if she sees their loyalty wavering. You're not stupid, you know she did something to Cath.

"Stay," you breathe, running your fingers through Andrew's auburn curls. You love the grey that's appeared by his temple, the greys that pepper his stubble.

You can't help but kiss over his chin and jaw. You give him a little nip as you do. This elicits a rare chuckle from Andrew 'Pope' Cody.

Your relationship with Andrew doesn't change much...bar the sex. The sex is incredible. Mind-blowing. You spend days in bed with him. You've started to wonder if you're a sex addict. Andrew soothes you, telling you this is very normal. Especially at the start of a relationship.

"Who are you fuckin'?" Craig finally asks you when he sees the hickies scattered over your body when he spots you on the beach one morning.

You've been smart, not flaunting your body over at the Cody house now that Andrew won't stop leaving marks on your skin. You can wear one-pieces, sporty ones that cover most of your chest if J invites you over to swim. Andrew gives you a knowing smirk when he sees your more modest swimwear. Knows that he's the reason.

But now you're in your bikini on the beach, not expecting to see anyone who might ask questions.

"Can't a girl have a lil privacy?" you ask putting your hands on your waist.

"Well no, because ever since I've known you, you've been like a nun or something," he responds as he shakes the seawater out of his hair.

"Just cos I won't sleep with you?" you respond with a roll of your eyes. "Cody boys aren't my type. Sorry, sweetheart!"

You give him a smile over your shoulder as you head back to your apartment.

Cody boys, no. Cody men, on the other hand? Well!

You were smart around the Cody house. You didn't change the way you had gotten closer to Pope. You didn't change how you would share a sun lounger with him. But Pope still acted like your touch freaked him out. He didn't soften into it like he did when you were alone.

You were careful. You were smart.

When you were alone in the kitchen or his bedroom or even just passing each other in the hallway, you couldn't help but press kisses to his jaw, he couldn't help but grip the soft flesh of your ass. Sometimes when you knew the house was empty, you would drop to your knees and take his heavy cock in your mouth. You loved making him feel good, making him feel powerful. You loved tasting him as he unloaded into your mouth. He always came so quickly when you got your mouth on him.

You just couldn't get caught.

Even if Andrew's brothers knew they'd soon tell Smurf. And then she would use that shit against you.

So you think you're being smart. Until you weren't.

J has invited you to a party. But he's distracted, playing stupid games with his uncles in the pool. Smurf is watching like an emperor in the Colosseum watching gladiators fight. She presides over the parties and everyone loves it. You have to contain your eyerolls behind the designer sunglasses Pope got you. No one notices when you go inside. No one except Pope, who, as always, has been watching you like a hawk. He finishes his beer before following you inside. He can't make it obvious.

You're hunting in the fridge for a soda. His eyes zero in on the curve of your ass. He places his hand on your waist and you jump before you realise who it is.

"Andrew," you breathe softly, turning to look at him.

"No one's watching, sugar," he whispers as he leans down to kiss you.

You smirk against his lips, stepping onto the boots he always wears to kiss him deeper. His hands palm at your ass, slipping under your bikini bottoms to grip the full globe of your ass. His thumb brushes lightly over your puckered hole.

"Andrew," you scold, pushing him away gently.

You giggle as you drop down to your knees, hidden by the kitchen island, and pull his cock from his swim shorts, taking him in your hot mouth. Andrew has to stay still as you work over his dick without being caught.

One thing leads to another and you're in his bedroom trying to stay quiet as he ploughs into you. He's got you on your hands and knees, on the floor because the bed is too noisy. You learn this when you try to ride him but the mattress springs are screeching. So you let the carpet burn into your flesh as Andrew fucks you. He's already made you cum twice on his face. He clamps a hand over your mouth when you cum, muffling your desperate cries of pleasure. He has to bite down on your shoulder to stop his grunts when he fills you with his cum.

Pope knows that you should get dressed and go back out to the party. But he gathers you in his arms and brings you to his bed.

"Just for a minute," you tell him, knowing that he loves post-sex cuddles. He's never been held, not really. And you intend to fix that. You cuddle him whenever you can. You'll always have you arms wrapped around him when you're alone.

What you don't expect is to wake up to the sun filtering in. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"Andrew! Andrew!" you hiss, trying to wake him up. "Andrew fuckin' Cody!"

Smurf is always awake so fucking early. You have no intention of her finding the two of you. You pull your clothes back on. Swearing when you can't find your bikini top. You were only wearing a beach cover-up when Pope accosted you in the kitchen. So you can't just wander around like this. That's why you decide to grab one of Pope's black t-shirts. It doesn't hide the fact that you're not wearing a bra. But if you can get out of the house before you meet...

"Smurf!" you say as you walk outside. You thought you could sneak out the back. But of course, you can't.

"You stayed the night," she notes, her eyes dropping down to the fact you're clearly not wearing a bra and then to the carpet burn on your knees.

Interesting.

"Sorry I got a bit overwhelmed by the party and I musta passed out in J's room," you lie.

"In Pope's room," she points out. "And you're wearing Pope's shirt."

"Nothing gets by you, Smurf," you say with a smile. "I was wearing a cover-up and it just didn't seem appropriate in the light of day. Look, I should go. I have work."

Smurf immediately turns to the go to the bedroom but frowns when she finds the room empty. The bed has already been stripped. Oh what a smart girl.

"Pope?" she calls. She's aware that he didn't leave last night either.

Pope has put the bedsheets and some of his clothes in the wash. Everyone knows he's a clean freak. No one will bat an eye at him washing bedding that some girl slept in. Obviously without him.

"You didn't go home last night," she says when she finds him.

He just grunts, "I took a walk on the beach. Couldn't sleep. Came back this morning."

Smurf's eyes narrow. She doesn't like it when people lie to her. Especially not her eldest boy.

Pope makes sure for the next fortnight that he stays at Smurf's or his place. He still brings you to and from class, still surfs with you. Doesn't change that part of his routine. But he doesn't sleep over. He doesn't alert Smurf to you any more than he has to of how much you mean to him.

"This is my last semester of college," you tell him one afternoon as you lay on the couch. Your head is on his bare chest and he's playing with your hair.

"After that, there's nothing tying us to Oceanside. We could go anywhere," you remind him.

"What about-"

"Don't say her name," you whisper, kissing over his chest. "Your brothers can handle their own shit. They're grown men. You can start fresh."

"Where has good surfing?" he asks, then as he runs his fingers through your hair.

You smile and stretch up to kiss him.

"I think we can figure it out."

a/n: thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! any and all feedback appreciated

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