#morobbot

But he had just finished pulling a double and his brain was still running a thousand miles a minute, heart threatening to thump out of his chest. He didn’t like the idea, but he needed to close his eyes for at least half an hour before walking back home, if only for his poor heart health and to prevent him from taking the shortcut up to the roof.

Which is why his head still feels all foggy and he’s blinking the sleep out of his eyes when he hears it again.

“Jack, stop! He is right there.”

“He’s been asleep for at least an hour, there’s no way he’s gonna wake up now.”

The voices ring faintly familiar, but his brain was still catching up after getting ripped away from his precious REM sleep. Robby hears the shuffle of clothes, the thud of a body landing on top of the shitty mattress next to him, and then another. Harsh breathing, the unmistakable smacking sound of kissing, and then a breathless little giggle that he’s only ever heard in passing. Something that has never been directed at him.

Dr. Mohan.

Robby holds his breath, freezing where he’s lying on the bed and facing the cream-colored wall, peels of paint dangling right before him. His face begins to burn and he desperately hopes they don’t check him up close, hopes that they just needed some privacy to talk and find comfort in each other before heading back out onto the floor.

He nearly jumps out his skin when something soft collides with his upper back before fluttering to the ground. Something that sounds suspiciously like part of someone’s scrubs.

Mohan gasps, and then he could feel the heat of their stares on his back, waiting to see if that had woken up him.

He squeezes his eyes shut, concentrating on releasing a deep exhale that could potentially be passed off as him sleeping, and adamantly pleads to whatever God is out there that they don’t notice the tips of his ears beginning to blaze a deep red or the tense line of his shoulders. Jack had known he was exhausted when he had handed off with a clap on the back and a weak smile, had watched Robby walk in the direction of the on-call rooms and called out to him to have a good night.

The other rooms must have been full.

“Nice one, Dr. Mohan.”

“Hey, you’re the one who just had to, oh—”

Her voice breaks off into a long, drawn-out moan and Robby suddenly wishes the ground would crack open and swallow him whole. In fact, Robby wishes that there was a 7.0 scale earthquake on its way to hit Pittsburgh at that very moment if only to tear the two of them apart, or for the hospital to get hit by lightning and essentially frying everyone from the inside out, or that even someone would call for Jack on the intercom because there is no fucking way this is happening to him right now.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking shit, what the fuck did he get himself into?

“Just a little taste, sweetheart.” Jack’s voice sounds rough, words slightly muffled from what he assumed were Mohan’s thighs wrapped around his head. “You gotta be fast if you don’t want Dr. Robby to wake up.”

Mohan lets out another breathless laugh in disbelief, the sound pretty and light and something he did not expect she was even capable of, before she’s choking on an exhale. There’s a thump, an ominous creak of the cot, and then a soft throaty noise that she tries to muffle.

The ensuing sounds were downright filthy—open-mouthed kisses evolving into broad swipes of his tongue, Jack grunting into Mohan’s soaked pussy as her taste floods his tongue, and the slightly muted whimpers that steadily leak out of her. She’s probably got a hand over her mouth, as if she could hold back her pretty moans so that Robby won’t wake up.

And Robby? Robby was absolutely mortified to realize that, although there was beginning to be a concerning amount of blood rushing to his face, there was possibly an equal amount rushing down to his thickening cock trapped within his scrubs.

He blames it on the fact that he’s overworked, tired. Saving lives, running the ER and his day-shift residents like the goddamn Navy, dealing with the worst kind of patients that have him wanting to pull his hair out. He’s barely had enough time to sleep when he’s at home, much less pull up some low-quality porn on his phone to quickly jerk off before passing out with his dick in his hand, come drying on his stomach and thighs for a pleasant surprise the following morning. Most of the time, he’s already nodding off before he can even finish typing the website in the search bar, waking up with just the letter P that he believes has started to taunt him.

That’s the only reason why his cock was beginning to press uncomfortably against the fabric, creating a tent that was so obvious he was sure they would be able to see it if they just curiously glanced over at him.

But no, they were too busy, obviously. There was another creak, Jack grunting as he adjusts, no doubt kneeling on the linoleum floor, and then diving back into the heaven that must be between Mohan’s thighs.

“Jesus, baby, you’re soaking for me. You like him in here?”

“Fuck, please shut up.”

Their relationship wasn’t necessarily a secret—Robby’s seen the strange way they flirt in front of patients, while in the middle of surgery, right in front of him sometimes when they think he’s not paying attention. He’s seen how Jack’s problem with strong eye contact is clearly reciprocated, often sparking a blinding smile from Dr. Mohan.

And Robby isn’t blind, he knows a beautiful woman when she’s standing right in front of him, even if she often is peering up at him with those big, brown eyes and sporting her usual ticked off scowl. He’s also not dumb, and technically has a first-hand account on just how efficient Jack is with those hands, that fucking mouth.

If he squeezes his eyes shut harder, he can almost see for himself the way Jack would have Mohan splayed out on that shitty cot, merely a couple inches away from him.

He can imagine the soft skin of Mohan’s stomach, her scrub top bunched underneath her armpits to expose her sports bra. The way her slender fingers would dip beneath the fabric to pinch at her dusty nipple, eliciting a whine from her pretty lips. She’s probably taken her claw clip out, letting her curls fan out from underneath her as she’s torn between letting her eyes drift closed or keeping them open if only to witness just how eager Jack can get.

And Jack, fuck. Robby’s cock twitches when he imagines the intensity in Jack’s eyes as his lips wrap around Mohan’s swollen clit, sucking and running his tongue over it repeatedly until she’s shaking and writhing in need. He’d dip his tongue into her entrance, teasing her while she buries her fingers in his curls to scratch at his scalp, silently begging for him to pay more attention to her clit, so they could get this whole goddamn thing over and done with before Robby wakes up.

“Oh, oh, fuck, Jesus—“

“That’s it, baby. I got you, c’mon.”

He can imagine how easily he’s able to learn her body—what to do with his tongue to make her thighs tremble, how to curl his fingers just right to get her to squirt all over his hand, when she’d much rather prefer if he fucked those racing thoughts out of her head until she couldn’t think about anything else besides the bruises he presses into her hips and his thick cock splitting her in half.

Mohan comes with a muffled shout, hand still covering her mouth, and fuck, Robby would give anything to be able to witness the blissed-out expression on her face. The way her eyes probably rolled back into her skull, the furrow in her brow deepening as she chased after that heat sparking through her veins.

Jack’s mouth is probably still on her, delving in between her slick folds to taste her release, his cock no doubt straining against his own scrubs. He probably almost got close just from the way her thighs squeezed around his head and the way her hips convulsed, overwhelmed by the taste and smell of her.

“Fuck, gonna let me fuck that pussy, baby?”

“Yes, yes, just, fuck, just hurry up already.”

Robby didn’t think Mohan would be so bossy in bed, but the utter desperation tinging her whisper has him distantly aware of the stain forming on his scrubs. He’s never been this hard in his fucking life, but he also never imagined he would be in the same room as his colleague and resident fucking in the same room as him, the smell of sweat and sex beginning to permeate through the harsh disinfectant.

There’s the ruffled sounds of more clothes being stripped, the cot creaking so loudly he wonders how they’ve even managed to fit the two of them on there. Robby’s feet were already dangling off the edge of the cot, head brushing against the wall as he crammed himself into a poor excuse of a laying position.

Mohan would have no problem, probably even able to splay out in true comfort. But combined with Jack? Jack’s too broad, too wide, even if he crowds himself so close to her that he’s seconds away from crawling underneath her skin, they still wouldn’t fit.

“Let me see you, baby, just like that. You know I love seeing how she takes me.”

“Oh, fuck—”

The lewd sound of squelching, of Mohan’s stuttering breath as Jack slides his fat cock inside of her needy cunt. He groans and Robby can imagine the death grip he has on her thighs, the bright flush adorning his chest, probably too focused on getting his dick wet to even bother taking off his scrubs or his undershirt.

Robby’s cock is fucking throbbing and he secretly curses himself at not laying down with his arms lax in front of him rather than tucked underneath his head. He probably could’ve gotten away with grinding the heel of his hand against his dick, maybe wrapping his fingers around himself over his scrubs if he was really that desperate. He’s starting to think that he is.

“God, Mira, you drive me fucking crazy out there, you know that?”

A breathless, tinkling laugh before breaking off into a gasp. “I can tell by the way you always, fuck—when you’re staring at me.”

And it’s true, Robby thinks. Jack’s proud, affectionate staring is much different from his desperate and horny staring, as someone who has been on the tail end of it more times than he could count. He almost wonders if Mohan feels the same heat curling at the base of her spine he used to feel, his cock usually growing half-hard just from the weight of his gaze on his hands as he intubates a patient, the intensity in his eyes as he talks a resident through a thoracotomy.

It doesn’t take long before Jack begins to fuck Mohan in earnest. Robby can nearly see him behind his eyelids—bending her legs back until her knees bracket her ears, biceps nearly bulging to keep his weight off of her and off his leg as his cock glistens with each rough thrust into her. Sweat must be beading along Mohan’s hairline, her tits bouncing every time he fucks into her, her nails digging crescents into his broad shoulders as he effortlessly brings her closer and closer to the edge.

The rattling sound of a gurney rolls by outside then, followed by a group of familiar voices, pagers, and intercoms beeping that seeps past the blood rushing through Robby’s ears. His heartrate spikes when he remembers the hundreds of people outside, waiting in that godforsaken lobby, and he almost wishes to be downstairs dealing with that than stuck here.

But then Robby hears Mohan gasp and what sounds like her torn between clawing at the sheets and Jack’s chest, and then a low and familiar groan being dragged from Jack’s throat. His thrusts grow deeper, the vulgar slapping of skin against skin increasing in speed as she squeezes around his cock.

“Hey, come on, come on, look at me, sweetheart. There she is.”

Robby clenches his fist where it’s tucked underneath his makeshift pillow of his hoodie, the rough pitch of Jack’s voice causing a fire to light within his veins, heat humming underneath his skin. It’s been so long, too long, since he’s heard him speak like that. Robby tries to ignore the festering pit in his stomach that burns similar to jealousy.

“Jack, you’re going to—” Another gentle whimper and what sounds like hands scrambling to find purchase against Jack’s chest. “Wake him up.”

“Don’t worry about him, baby, just worry about that pretty pussy coming around my cock.”

He must be doing something to her that’s distracted her, maybe rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over her poor clit, or maybe even wrapping a hand at the base of her throat, thick fingers easily covering her pretty brown skin, based off the strangled noise Mohan makes. Robby still remembers the way his breath felt fanning against his cheek when Jack had leaned in, reminding him to always squeeze the sides, never the windpipe, as all the air rushed out of him like a sucker punch to the gut.

The fucking sounds the two of them were making were probably going to fuel Robby’s dreams for the next six months, maybe even for the rest of his life. Jack’s deep, low grunts, combined with Mohan’s breathy whines, muffled as she tries to hold back as if the continuous creaking and shuddering of the cot wasn’t about to give them away to anyone who decided to walk by and check up on him. He almost can’t wait until they’re done so he can finally shove a hand down his pants and wrap his fingers around himself to relieve some pressure.

“Jack, I’m—fuck, please, I’m going to—”

“Oh, you know I can’t resist when you beg for me, baby. Okay, okay, you can come for me, come on.”

Robby strains his ears just enough to catch her sharp inhale, holding it in her chest for a quick second, visualizing the way her body must tense in Jack’s hold, before she’s crying out into the palm of her hand. She’s probably the type to let her eyes roll back far in her skull, letting her hips jerk and her thighs tremble around Jack’s hips, because she knows he loves it, gets off on just how much pleasure he’s able to coax out of her body.

“God, fuck, she’s squeezing me so tight, sweetheart.”

She doesn’t respond, can’t respond besides for the soft noises escaping her mouth as Jack continues fucking into her, hips stuttering with each pulse of her cunt around him. He lets out a rough grunt before mumbling something that Robby can’t quite catch, words muffled as he’s most likely buried his face in Mohan’s neck.

Mohan giggles, soft and breathy, and for some reason it sends another wave of heat into Robby’s stomach, his cock twitching in his pants.

It takes a handful more thrusts, a few more screeching sounds of the cot that has to be on its last legs by now, and then a low groan as Jack comes, hips faltering before driving deep into Mohan’s pussy and filling her up.

Robby has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from making a sound that would give him away, not sure if he could ever live down being caught in this embarrassing, albeit strangely and horribly arousing, situation. He would never be able to look at either of them in the eye again, would most likely have to quit this hellscape of a job and find some other desperate ED that’s willing to take him.

The on-call room becomes eerily quiet without the back-and-forth screeching of the cot that has engraved itself into Robby’s brain, will most likely come back to replay in his head in between Mohan’s soft gasps and Jack’s grunts in the privacy of his own home. He can barely decipher the harsh pants both of them are taking through the static in his ears, face burning so severely he’s amazed he hasn’t burst into flames yet.  

Mohan makes another sound that he didn’t think she was capable of making, soft and sweet, that Robby thinks would nearly send him over the edge if he had his hand around his cock. Jack must have slid his cock out, and he can already imagine him sitting back on his thighs to watch the way he drips out of her spent cunt and onto the scratchy sheets.

She must be aching, stretched out from the sheer thickness of Jack’s cock. Robby empathizes.

Jack hums, throat clicking, Admiring. “Think you can hold it in until I get home?”

There’s that white-hot jealousy again, flaring in his chest and nearly knocking him breathless.

She sighs, and Robby knows there’s no bite in her words when she says, “Really? For twelve hours?”

He must lean in close then, because Robby has to strain his ears to catch what he says as he mumbles it into the soft crook of her neck. “It’ll be my welcome home present.”

And then Robby assumes he kisses her when she doesn’t respond, knows he’s kissing her deeply, slowly, because he always does after sex. As if to ground himself, remind himself on what matters the most when he comes home at the end of the day.

Jack groans, back and shoulder popping, when he climbs off of the bed. The two of them are quiet as he psyches himself up for another long night, wide palms probably gravitating towards the softness of Mohan’s belly, her arms, getting his last fill of her before she left for the day.

Robby tries not to let out a sigh of relief. It’s over, which means he can finally have the room to himself to shove a hand down his pants to bring himself off to tide him over until he got home and actually take his time.

There’s a slight shuffle, old sheets and deflated pillows tossed around in what sounds like an attempt to find a missing item. And then, “I can’t believe we did that.”

She sounds mortified, guilty, and the hair on Robby’s neck prickles as he senses her wide eyes on his back. He makes a conscious effort to level out his breathing again, relax his shoulders imperceptibly. He was absolutely sure they never noticed how his breaths quickened, sure the two of them were too lost in each other’s orbit the way they always were.

“I’m sure he didn’t mind.” And then Jack’s hand claps down onto his shoulder, causing him to jump. Something akin to dread crawls down his spine.

he can't get the image out of his head for days, so he isn't surprised when it leaks into his subconscious as well, morphing into something more in the thick of night.

he's dreamt of jack before, of course, a vestige of the one time he had the real thing after janey, before heather. he's dreamt about samira, too, though much less frequently — usually on the days her patience at his scrutiny wears thin and she forgets herself, forgets not to scowl at him, bite back.

but jack and samira together are potent in a way unlike anything else robby's mind has ever wandered to. in his dreams, he doesn't join them. doesn't let jack work him open on his fingers, doesn't lick into samira until she screams.

he just watches.

watches jack fold her in half in his bed. watches samira ride him in the on-call room, curls spilling wildly out of her claw clip. watches them use each other, love each other, unaware of his presence all the while like that day on the roof.