#rattwrites

Chapter 1: SOS

The middle of the afternoon is always a weird time to be home with nothing to do. A liminal space between clean up from lunch, and prep for dinner. Not long enough to settle into any long haul activity, but too long to just fill with simple errands and cleaning, especially with rush hour around the corner. But Charlie manages. She has learned to adapt to this unscheduled lifestyle beautifully, and often uses this time to deep clean something insane. It’s just enough time to fully deep clean the oven, or shampoo the stairs, or re-caulk the guest shower. She’s just about to pull out the vacuum and strip the couch of its cushions when she gets the text from Dana. Three simple letters “SOS”.

Years of working so closely together means that the women have hashed out their own sort of system: a regular text is just a friendly convo, and a sudden phone call with no warning is an actual true emergency. But a text like this? That means “call me as soon you can, but no one is currently bleeding out”; or at least, no one that either of them need to worry about more than they would any patient in crisis. So Charlie calls. Immediately. But Dana’s phone goes right to voicemail, no signal to be found. “Shit…” she mutters, swiping through her phone for the direct hospital number that she hasn’t had to use in years. 

“PTMC Emergency, it’s Princess, go medic command.”

“It’s Charlie. Dana sent me an SOS. How can I help?”

—

By the time the Uber got to her apartment, Charlie had managed to throw her hair into a clip and pull on the most appropriate clothing she could find, considering she no longer owned scrubs. She told the Uber she would pay double in cash if he could get there faster than the estimate, and would personally get them out of any speeding tickets if they happened to get pulled over. He must have seen the seriousness on her face, because the usual 20 minute drive took 7. Charlie shoved $200 in his hand and told him to have a great day. It wasn’t often that she threw money around like that, especially considering she still didn't feel like it was hers, but desperate times. Her husband would understand.

She rushed in through the ambulance bay and frantically looked for anyone who was currently in charge: Dana, Robby, Abbot- hell, even Shen. What she found instead was chaos: two women writing patients and rooms and abbreviations on a giant whiteboard, nurses looking at clipboards with the kind of confusion she honestly should have expected from people who had only ever used digital charting, and Princess sweating at the hub, finally looking like she could breathe again when her eyes landed on Charlie. “Oh thank God!”

“Nope, just me!” Charlie said with strained cheer, as she swung her bag under the desk, and took in the movement all around her. “Bring me up to speed.” And Princess did: the entire hospital was all analog due to a possible incoming cyber attack with no estimated down time, they were receiving patients from other hospitals in the area because they had already shut down due to the same issue, Dana was currently in with a patient and couldn’t leave until the exam was complete, and Robby had been dealing with a kid who lost half a hand to a firecracker.

“Christ, okay! So we’ve already got our stations set up, great. Just managing the chaos. And you guys are clerks?” she asked, looking at the two men filling out slips at the desk.

“No, medical assistants.”

“Okay, maybe they need you doing that more than this right now. Once Dana is back, get outta here okay?”

“Yes ma’am. You do not need to tell me twice.”

Princess continued to guide her through the set up they managed to scrounge up and ended at the whiteboard. “And this is Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi, our new attending, and MS3, Joy Kwon who has saved us with her photographic memory”

“Hell of a first day ladies! I’m Charlie, reinforcements. Please think of me as the Pitt's personal assistant for the day. Supply runs, chart issues, labs, whatever. I’m the catch-all for issues that need to be fixed, but shouldn’t fall on someone who can actually save lives. Speaking of which,” Charlie held out her hand for the marker. “I can finish this,” she nodded to the blank bottom quarter of the white board. “Dr. Al-Hashimi, I am sure there is someone who needs you more than expo markers do.”

With that, Baran gave her an appreciative nod and left to check on current traumas, while Charlie and Joy rounded out the board and became acquainted.

“Called in on your off day?” the MS3 finally asked, in between spitting out patient stats.

Charlie just smiled wickedly. “Something like that. Okay, South 22…”

Once the board was finished, Joy left to continue checking on patients and Charlie turned her attention to the charts littering the edge of the station. She started with the discharges, trying to clear beds, and worked her way through labs, fixing mistakes in paperwork and making sure that orders were being ran and results being read at least every 20 minutes, if not more often. Almost an hour had passed once Dana finally appeared from her exam.

“I knew you’d figure it out,” she said coming up behind Charlie and squeezing her affectionately on the shoulders as the younger woman moved lab orders to the file slots.

“SOS and then no answer? I wasn’t sure if you needed me or if you were ready to quit again.”

“Ha! They can’t get rid of me that easy. What I miss?”

Charlie filled Dana in on where they were and what gaps they still needed filled. “If anyone is idle or needs a breather, send ‘em on a labs run. I figure that’s what I’ll mostly be doing, but the more the merrier. Now that you’re back, I feel more on top of things.”

“Yeah, someone’s gotta be in charge here. You see Robby yet?”

“Nope. Been running from trauma to trauma since I got here. Met the new attending, though. She’s gonna give him a run for his money, I bet. And one of your new med students is a fucking genius.”

“Yeah, we got a few of those around here these days. Speaking of which: SANTOS! WHITAKER! You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting my good friend Charlie, have you? She’s your point of contact for the rest of the day. If it’s not a medical issue, or a nursing issue, bother her- not me.”

“So nice to finally meet you both,” Charlie said with an easy smile, holding out her elbow for a bump. “I’ve heard great things!”

That seemed to surprise both the residents as they had never heard of her. Whitaker racked his brain trying to think of if he’d heard the name, or even a description of a young red head around the Pitt, trying to mind his Midwest manners. But Santos, as always, didn’t have the decorum.

“And I have heard exactly zero things! Did you used to work here?” She asked, immediately trying to sus out the vibe of the stranger.

“Oh yeah, many lifetimes ago. Me and this hellhole go wayyyy back. I’ve got a lost of experience with chaos and paperwork, so Dana called me in just to grease up the gears a little. Anything I can help you with?”

“Uh, no, no just gonna grab a new patient, and drop off some orders.” Whitaker sputtered out, placing the orders in the right area, and turning to the whiteboard to grab the first unclaimed patient and clipboard he laid eyes on. “Oh, he is a good boy,” Charlie thought. “Not even playing favorites on cases.” 

“Bring the med students with you, I know they like you!” Charlie shouted after him and he nodded, only pausing once he was halfway down the hall to think about how she could possibly know that. She noticed Santos lagging though, studying the board like it would suddenly become a lot more interesting if she kept looking.

“Santos!” Charlie called getting the doctors attention, and nodding her head to beckon her back over. “You should take North 4 if it’s still open. Looks like a broken ankle. Derby player. Should be able to send her for imaging and then pick up something more fun while you wait. And…” Charlie dropped her voice conspiratorially “She’s hottt,” she added in a sing song voice.

Santos blushed a little and tried not to look completely read for filth, but was too tired to be annoyed by the personal intrusion. “Ohhhkay.” She picked up the chart and wiggled it a little as she walked to the room, “Thanks.”

Charlie continued to write up the correct lab forms, and put them in the right areas in between running orders and labs back and forth. Word began to spread that she was back and suddenly, the hub was the most popular place to be. Langdon was first to show up looking for her, with a smiley blonde by his side. “Adler! I thought I heard this place was haunted,” he said, running in to embrace her in a hug.

“Gonna need an exorcism to get rid of me.”

Langdon gestured to the woman next to him. “This is Dr. Mel King, R3.”

“Dr. King! Just as beautiful as you were described. So lovely to meet you. I’m Charlie.”

“Oh you’ve, um, someone said I was beautiful?” Mel stammered.

“Oh yeah, someone,” Charlie flicked her eyes to Langdon quickly as he shot her daggers, “hasn’t actually stopped telling me how amazing you are. You made the quite the impression.”

“Charlie,” Langdon interrupted before Mel could press further, “used to work here too, in admin. Now she just stops by to press my buttons and cause mischief.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I was called in specifically to help today! The button pressing is just an added bonus, considering this is volunteer work out of the good of my heart.”

“There’s good in your heart? When did that happen?”

She just rolled her eyes at Langdon. “Whatever. How are the kids?”

“Exactly the same as they were last week when you asked me.”

“Oh, so I have no heart, but now I care too much? Which one is it Francis?”

“Not my name, you’re a monster, and I love you very much.” He said with a grin, picking up some lab results and hurrying away, taking Mel with him. Charlie just laughed, and returned Mel’s wave goodbye with a small salute.

A few minutes later, it was Garcia popping out of the elevator and shouting out to Charlie as she walked towards the trauma room to assess the patient Robby was currently working on. “Thought I smelled trouble. Hey, Big Lotto”

“Hey, mamas. Didn’t know they allowed for smoke shows in the hospital these days.” Garcia chuckled, and beelined for the hub, but before she could get distracted, Charlie reminded her of why she was here in the first place. “Go sew someone back together, I’ll be here when you’re done”. Garcia held up her hands in surrender and slipped into a room.

It had been hours of running orders and organizing files, but to Charlie it felt like second nature. It had been almost two years since she left the Pitt, and even though she swore she would never be back, there were times when she missed it: the people, the rush, knowing she could keep things in control under pressure. But she knew the novelty would wear off very, very quickly if she ever truly came back. She left for a reason, and that hadn’t changed. Plus, then she would have to deal with Robby at work.

Just as she was thinking she may be able to continue to avoid him by being on order and supply runs, he came storming out of Trauma 2 where Garcia had entered only minutes before.

“Why on earth are you here and more importantly, why am I hearing about it from someone in a different department?” Robby asked with just a hint of frustration below the surface that he was hopelessly trying to mask with fake flippancy.

“Because you are useless without me and the invite to the Welcome Parade got lost in the mail?”

Robby’s face stayed stern, waiting for an actual answer.

“Dana called me in. You needed back up, and I was available.”

“You’re supposed to be retired.”

“Retiring at 27 is insane, Michael. I quit to pursue other passions. There’s a difference. Now can you be helpful and make sure the board is up to date, or are you just going to continue to stand there looking at me like I broke your favorite toy?”

---

Santos was dropping off discharge papers for the derby player (compound fracture, discharged with a follow up in ortho as soon as possible, and Dr. Santos‘s personal info - just in case anything else came up. Purely medical. Of course.) while attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation. She didn’t know what Charlie’s deal was at all. How did she know that Santos was gay? Or that the med students followed Whitaker around like a pack of puppies? And most importantly why was she so comfortable flirting with Garcia?

“Michael??” Santos mouthed to Javadi across the hub, who just shrugged. She continued to observe Charlie and Robby’s interaction at the board. Robby seemed to be going through his patients and updating the board with anything else he could add, while she wrote and erased where necessary. Nothing seemed particularly interesting, just a former employee stepping in to help the hospital run smoothly in a crisis. But Trinity always had a Spidey sense when it came to people, and she was missing something here. Charlie’s whole demeanor with the staff was too easy: little too all-knowing and kind of flirty, if she was being honest. And now Robby said she retired at 27? How was that even possible?

---

“Where’s Jack?” Charlie asked as she finished the update and swung back into hub, grabbing at charts to write up order slips while continuing the conversation.

“At home, I hope. Came in earlier with a GSW patient from a SWAT mission. Got a little banged up himself. He should be sleeping before his shift. Why?”

“I thought you might miss your boyfriend. Figured he’d be a good set of hands to have here, but I guess even the best of us need our beauty rest.”

“Mhm…” Robby hummed, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows over his glasses, not believing Charlie’s pure intentions for a second.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Charlie rolled her eyes and batted him on the arm with the papers in her hand. “I’m being serious. You could use the help. If I just wanted to oggle him, I’d call him up and do it on my own time.”

Robby’s pursed face twitched slightly, betraying something under his slightly dramatized annoyance. His voice dropped in volume and turned to a tone most of his coworkers had never heard him use before. “Charlotte…I don’t like you being here. You should go, we got this.”

“Not only are you lying through your teeth right now,” she snapped back. “But that is not a choice you get to make for me.”

“Technically, I’m Chief Attending and it is my choice.”

Charlie stilled, looking up from where she was writing, having been multitasking through the conversation. There was a fire in her eyes, and her voice dropped lower, accent thick in a way that sent shivers up the spines of Santos and Javadi, who were still spending this whole conversation trying pointedly to not look like they were eavesdropping. “Don’t you fucking dare pull rank on me, Robinavitch. If I couldn’t be here, I wouldn’t. End of story. Are we gonna have a problem?”

Robby unfolded his arms, hands up in surrender. “No, ma’am. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I need you to go save a life somewhere.”

Robby nodded once, slow and deliberate, and turned on his heel to check in some patients who had arrived in the most severe conditions.

Javadi and Santos quickly dropped their heads and busied their hands in hopes they weren’t being completely obvious. It didn’t really matter because Princess and Perlah would fill Santos in on the whole thing anyway if she asked, but it was just easier to watch it in real time. Charlie watched the two walk away together, heads close together and whispering conspiratorially. She huffed a single breath, knowing they just watched her chew out their attending, and that he seemingly didn’t want her there. The rumor mill was going to be flying. But she had been the subject of many rumors in her life, a good handful of them here at PTMC anyway, so it was no bother to her. She went back to work, picking up orders to run down to the lab and radiology.

End Notes:

- This is heavily inspired by Avengers-Tower-Everyone-Is-Besties-All-The-Time type of fics. Some shit wouldn't happen IRL (like spending that much time with your coworkers, or having so many coinciding days off, etc.) but this is MY fictional mind palace and HERE we suspend our disbelief sometimes when it's fun. I try to be as realistic and factual as I can manage, but my barbie dolls are mine to play with!

-I wrote this as one giant note in my phone. The chapters might be a little choppy and it might be dialogue heavy. I saw this as a movie in my head, I'm trying my best.

-I can see this evolving into a collection with some random one shots or additional series down the line, but I'm hoping not to make it a completionism thing. Trying to keep it loosey-goosey here.

-Everyone is here from the show. If I don't mention them? They're still here. Maybe they had a day off, or they were busy, but they're there. There's just so many of them.

- I cannot stress enough how absolutely RAN THROUGH Robby and Charlie are. Just FAWKING everyone crazy style. And no one is weird about it.

-I have worked on the admin side of medical for a very long time, but never in a hospital setting, so please excuse anything that is incorrect. I tried to be both as accurate and vague as possible.

Chapter 4: Almost Labor Day

Once the day of the party rolled around, Charlie was stressed out making sure everything was set up, but that was exactly the place she loved being the most. She called it “good stress”: something to keep the adrenaline up, without having the potential to ruin her life. The kitchen counter was full of covered catering trays with all the mains she had prepared, and the island was one big beautiful charcuterie grazing board. Her husband was out refilling the gas for the grill and picking up some quarts of ice cream from a local place because he loved to wait until the last minute to do things. Langdon and Mel were already here, with Penny and Tanner so they could get some pool time in before their mom picked them up later in the day. They had run into the house like bats out of hell screaming “AUNT CHARLIE!!!! DADDY SAID YOU GOT A WATERSLIDE?!” Both nearly knocked her over with hugs, already in their bathing suits under their clothes. Mel offered to help set up inside, but everything was done, Charlie was just triple checking like the anxious perfectionist she was. She ventured outside to make sure the coolers were full, and everything was set so she could enjoy a second with Frank and Mel and the kids before things got insane.

The adults watched the kids splash around in the pool as the three of them sat with their feet dipped in the shallow end. “They seem to be adjusting well,” Charlie said, hoping it wasn’t a sore topic to bring up in front of Mel.

“They are.” Langdon replied. “It’s not like they had to switch schools. Honestly, with my work schedule, their time with me hasn't even been impacted. And Abbey and I have been good about still doing stuff together, like soccer games. I think they’re still young enough that this is just their new normal, and not some insane traumatizing event in their lives.” Mel placed a tentative hand on Frank's knee, who grabbed her hand immediately.

“Hey, my parents divorce was probably the best thing that ever happened in my life," Charlie reassured him. "And those people still hate each other to this day. So, two parents who get along and actually care about their kids well being? Seems like Nobel peace prize winning behaviors, in my opinion.”

“Do you want kids?” Mel asked, genuinely curious.

“God, yes. He just…” Charlie trailed off, once again trying to find the words to describe her husband without getting too personal. To her, everything about him made sense. But she knew she could be a little crass sometimes, and people didn’t always see things the same way she did. If it were about herself or anything else, she wouldn’t care. But she was fiercely protective of her husband and made sure anything she said about him could not ever be misconstrued to be negative. “He’s worried that he won’t have enough time for them. That it’ll be too much for me. And I get it! But the longer we wait, the worse it will be for him, I think. It’s always gonna be scary and I don’t know if there’ll ever be a “right” time, but god, I’d have a litter with that man if he’d let me. I think now that the house is settled, he’ll be more open to it.”

“You’re gonna be so good at it.” Frank added, staring at his own kids in a sort of distant way. “You’re already Martha fuckin Stewart. And you’re both so smart. Those kids are gonna be so well rounded.”

“God, I hope so. Imagine if they just all end up being huge athletes?” Charlie chuckled at the thought. “We wouldn’t know what to do with them. He’d have a coronary every time one of them fell down. Maybe dance. That feels safe enough."

“Or hockey.” Frank added hopefully. “So many pads, you’ll only have to worry about their teeth.”

That was when Dennis, Trinity, and Victoria arrived, carrying a few cases of various drinks, and a bag full of what looked like towels and sunblock. “Hello?” Dennis said tentatively from the open gate to the back yard.

Charlie jumped up, “Hi, welcome! Can I help carry anything?” She asked.

“No, no we’ve got it!” Vic said.

“So glad you guys could make it!” Charlie ushered them to the coolers, so they could put their drinks inside.

“Sorry we’re so early,” Trinity apologized. “Dennis believes in being 20 minutes early to everything.”

“If you’re on time, you’re late!” he said, sticking some Bud Light bottles into the ice.

“No worries at all! You guys have an open invitation to my home, whenever. Come early, leave late, whatever you want.” Once the alcohol was all on ice, she continued, “Here let me give you the tour!” Charlie showed them in and gave them a quick overview of everything. “Bedroom to the left, bathroom to the right, and living room right through the kitchen in the other side. Grab any food you’d like, and make yourselves at home. Can I get you anything?” They all shook their heads, and followed her back outside after putting their bags in the guest room.

Outside, she was met with Jack Abbot, hauling two gas canisters over to the grill. “How did you get roped into this?” she asked in greeting.

Jack smiled at her something sly, “He says jump, I say how high.”

“You have to learn to say no to him.”

Jack just shrugged, “Can’t. Not when he gives me the baby cow eyes.”

Charlie just laughed and hugged him, once again offering her assistance for anything, and once again being politely refused. Slowly, everyone else started to stream in. Charlie’s coworkers from the library, Dana with her husband and kids, Princess and her newest boyfriend, Samira, Ellis, Shen, Cassie, and Harrison, who joined the Langdon kids in the pool immediately, jumping right in, without even taking off his shirt, opting to take it off once already soaking, and throw it in a sopping ball at Frank.

“HEY!” McKay warned, giving him the mom glare.

“Sorry!” Harrison said, barely containing his laughter. Langdon took that as his sign to jump in the pool and was soon being roped into a game of Marco Polo. Charlie busied herself greeting everyone, introducing everyone to each other, and making sure everyone was comfortable and had what they needed.

---

Trinity slipped into the bathroom to change into her bathing suit- board shorts and a bikini top- immediately realizing how much of a cliche she was. “No wonder she immediately clocked me,” Trinity whispered to herself, looking in the mirror. She walked out the door and turned to Dennis standing there waiting for her to finish. “All yours. See you out there, stud.” She clapped him on the back and made a beeline for the cooler where she had stashed her Modelos.

Dennis arrived mere moments later, in only the 4 inch inseam bottoms she had coaxed him into buying. “I feel naked” he whispered to her harshly, eyes bulging. “Your shorts are longer than mine!”

“I’m a lesbian, I’m allowed,” she simply stated.

“There is no way this is what’s 'in',” he said, not noticing Charlie coming up behind him to get to the coolers.

“Oh, it absolutely is. You look great. Like a young Hayden Christiansen.” Charlie commented, hoping to reassure the man.

“Do you know who that is, farm boy?” Trinity asked, only half kidding.

“I grew up in Nebraska, not the moon. Star Wars is maybe the only normal thing I was allowed to watch as a kid," he glared at Trinity. “Thank you, Charlie. Just, not a lot of opportunities for swimming growing up. Double landlocked and all. And surely zero opportunities for anything in fashion.”

“You’re on top of it, I promise. I tried to get my husband a pair of shorts like that and I think he tried to explode me with his mind.”

Trinity's ears perked up at that. “Where is your husband?”

“That,” Charlie pointed to Trinity, while checking her husbands location on her phone, “is actually a wonderful question. I sent him to pick up dessert and gas. Jack showed up with the gas about 15 minutes ago, which means he should be rightttt,” Charlie paused for a moment trying to time it right, “here!” she said, as Robby came into the backyard through the house, having dropped off the ice cream in the freezer on the way. Charlie jogged over to him, placing one hand on his abdomen while she leaned up on her toes to meet him in a quick kiss. “Hey, lover.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the coolers where Trinity was watching, trying to pick her jaw up off the floor. Dennis just suppressed his smirk, trying his hardest not to laugh at his best friend’s bewilderment. “Trinity was just asking where you were.”

Trinity could not hold in her remarks; she simply lacked the self control. “You’re married to Robby?”

Charlie laughed at first, and then her smile turned to confusion when she saw Trinity was actually genuine. “Yeah, of course I…did you not know?”

“No I… I thought. I thought you guys were, um...” Trinity struggled to find a way to politely say what she thought.

“She thought you were cheating on your husband with Robby,” Dennis helpfully supplied, happy to throw Trinity under the bus at any given moment.

She shot him daggers and attempted to stutter out a rebuttal. “NO! No, I just. I didn’t realize.”

Charlie was full on giggling now, and even Robby was cracking a grin. “Hold on,” he put his hands up. “You knew she was married and didn’t realize it was to me, sure. But you thought we were having an affair?”

Dennis filled in the blanks while Trinity tried to recover from her embarrassment. “We saw you guys leave together on the Fourth. Trinity thought there was no way you were actually together because you don’t wear a ring.” Dennis gestured to Robby’s left hand.

Robby nodded slowly, tucked two fingers under the collar of his Hawaiian shirt, pulling out a chain with a simple gold ring hanging on it, next to his Magen David. “How many de-glovings do we see a month, Santos? And with all the bodily fluids I’m up to my elbows in? It’s safer here.” He says, tucking it back in to his undershirt and giving it an affectionate pat.

“Anyone else you think I’m having an affair with? Just to clear the air now.” The host asked, no real malice in her voice, still laughing slightly.

“NO!” Trinity was in full on panic mode. “No, I’m sorry that was actually so fucked up of me to assume.”

“It’s fine! We have gotten way worse assumptions about our relationship, actually. And we’re both a little, um, flirty. So I can see how you jumped there.”

Robby smiled, and then turned to his wife once her words sank in “I am not ‘flirty’, I..”

“Yes you are.” Dennis jumped in, taking a sip of his beer to hide his blush once he realized what he said. Charlie just gestured to him, hoping the unsaid 'I told you so' was loud and clear.

“That’s how you knew so much about us the first day!” Trinity said, officially connecting all the dots. “Robby’s been talking about us this whole time.”

“Yep.” Charlie confirmed, nodding her head. “And I keep in touch with everyone, so it’s not hard to fill in the blanks.”

“Wow," Trinity said. “I am an idiot. How did you guys end up together?”

“Love at first sight” Robby said, at the exact same time Charlie said, “He grew on me.”

“She would come down from billing anytime there was an issue. She was like their own PR department. And she came to see us a lot. You know how easy it is to screw up charting in the ER, so many moving parts. I saw her for the first time 6 years ago, and I knew.” Robby looked at his wife like she hung every star in the sky personally.

She smiled up at him, and squeezed his bicep where she had been holding him. “And then he waited a year to make a move, because he thought he was too old for me. I had to ask him out. Been together ever since. Moved in together about a year after that and got married almost 3 years ago. Sorry you missed it, it was kind of party of the century.”

“They can come to the vow renewal.” Robby promised.

“Huh.” Santos just said, still processing everything.

“That is so fucking cute.” Dennis said.

Charlie smiled shyly, and Robby could feel his cheeks heat up for what felt like the 800th time in 10 minutes. “Well, I’m gonna go start up the grill. If you have any more assumptions about my personal life,” he said folding his hands into a pleading gesture, “please ask my wife,” he emphasized.

Charlie giggled. “He’s never gonna let you live this down.”

“Already coming to terms with that," Trinity nodded her head, sucking her teeth.

“Seriously though, if you have questions, just ask. I’m an open book! Robby, not so much, but I love to yap.”

Trinity thought about it. Now or never, she figured; if Charlie kicked her ass, well then. So be it. She lowered her voice and angled away from the rest of the party, “Did you ever hook up with Garcia?” she implored, trying not to see desperate.

“Yolanda? Absolutely not! Don’t get me wrong, I’m as queer as a three dollar bill, but she’s not my type. We used to hit up the gay bars together a lot. Still do sometimes. But no, never even kissed her.”

Trin immediately felt a weight she didn’t even know she’d been carrying lift off her shoulders and was instantly back to her normal, snide self. “So you’re into chicks and you ended up marrying Robby? Really?” She asked incredulously.

“I’m not happy about it either. But true love and all that. Plus, do you know how hard it is to find a femme top in Pittsburgh? I’m surrounded by mascs. I swear, they respawn in the mines here.”

Dennis laughed, “It can’t be worse than the gay scene in Nebraska.”

“Oh, you poor thing, tell me everything.” Charlie demanded.

The trio fell into an easy conversation about queerness, dating, the differences in their respective upbringings and queer awakenings. Charlie eventually got pulled away to put out the rest of the food, but it was nice for them all to have someone to talk to that got it. Trinity and Dennis eased into the pool, and sipped their second beers, eventually wading over to Parker and Victoria. “Holy shit,” Trinity eventually interrupted the conversation. “I’m so sorry, Vic. I forgot to tell you. Charlie is married to Robby.”

“That…” Vic paused, “actually makes so much sense. Okay, yes.”

“You didn’t know?” Parker laughed, and Trinity began to fill her in on the whole ordeal.

---

The blazing noon sun faded into a warm late afternoon, with everyone fully sated by food, and drink, and good company.

Some of the crowd had faded out. A few of Charlie’s coworkers had late shifts to get to. Abbey had picked up the kids, Harrison had been picked up by his dad after they left, citing boredom, and the Evans’s family split out, because “someone’s gotta be the only one not hungover tomorrow!” Cassie, Frank, and Mel did not point out that none of them drank, choosing to let it go.

Now that it was officially just the adults, drinks started flowing a little more generously, and Charlie could smell the distinct tang of weed in the air. “Jack, whatever it is you’re smoking, you better be sharing!”

“Hold on, boss. I’m coming.” Jack started to wade across the pool to Charlie, bringing her a freshly lit joint.

“Good man," she said, inhaling a few puffs before handing it back over.

He leaned up against the pool wall next to her, staring at the beginnings of a sunset. “Good day?” he asked.

“Very.” She flicked her eyes over to where her husband was animatedly telling some story to Mel and Samira, who were hanging on every word.

“It’s good to remind him that these are his friends, not just his coworkers.”

“Yeah. And we never get a day all off together. This was needed.”

They continued to pass the joint back and forth between them as they talked. “House looks good too.”

“Would have looked better if I didn’t have some weird old man constantly berating my design choices and harassing my contractors.”

“Please. You love me.”

“I really, really do,” she admitted, resting her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her waist and she giggled. “Watch your hands there, soldier. I already had one infidelity accusation today.”

“What?" he asked, perplexed.

“Santos was convinced I was cheating on my husband with Robby. Caught us smooching in the parking lot and didn’t realize he was the husband I kept mentioning.”

“You do refer to him as 'my husband' a lot. The man does have a name, he’s still his own person.”

“Eh. Not anymore. He’s mostly just Mr. Charlotte Adler these days.”

“That is very accurate.”

They fell back into silence for a few seconds, as they finished the remainder of the J. Jack stubbed the roach out in an ashtray that was on the pool deck and looked back to Charlie, voice lowered, eyebrows raised. “She’s gonna lose her mind if she ever finds out what the three of us get up to.”

She threw her head back in a real belly laugh. “Don’t I fuckin know it, man.”

End Note:

Chapter 2: Problem

Time continued to pass in the weird stilted ways it always did at the Pitt. It was so much, so quickly where you felt like you lost hours, only to realize you had to keep going. It was a prolonged adrenaline crash over and over again.

Langdon stopped by again- alone this time- and stood next to Charlie, pretending to look over some paperwork.

“Heard you got into it with Robby. You alright?” he said in greeting.

“I’m always in it with him.” She rolled her eyes. But it was Langdon. He knew how stubborn Robby was almost better than anyone. “He doesn’t want me here,” she added simply.

Langdon let out a single huff of air that could almost pass as a chuckle. “Yeah, join the club.”

“You know he’s a fuckin' moron for that right?” Charlie implored, looking up at Langdon so he would catch her eye line and know she meant it. “You remind him too much of him. And it’ll take you some time to get back on your a-game here fully. But you’re a damn good doctor, Frankie. And you deserve to be here. Don’t let him get in your head.”

Langdon smiled a little, and knocked his shoulder into hers. “Thanks. This is all just so…” He trailed off trying to find the right word.

“I know” Charlie nodded, understanding. “But the only way out is through. Now go pick up a patient and stop looking at me with those sad, pretty eyes.”

“Oh, but you love my sad pretty eyes!”

“Goodbye!!!!” she stressed, waiving to the mountain of new patient charts still not claimed.

By the time 7 PM arrived, Charlie was too busy making sure that she avoided any prolonged exposure to Robby to notice it was time for the night shift to trickle in. She saw Shen first, and then Ellis appeared from another floor where she had apparently been taking a nap before her double. Charlie never worked nights, so her relationship with most of the night shift regulars was less familiar than day shift, but quick greetings were exchanged before everyone got ready for rounds and hand off. When Abbot arrived, he headed straight for Charlie. “There’s my favorite girl!” He wrapped her in a big hug without giving her time to put down her pen or the chart in her hands, smushing her into his chest with his biceps, though she wasn’t one to complain. “I heard you showed up as soon as I left. You avoiding me, sugar?”

“You kidding?” She was released with a giggle. “I asked for you by name! Also, how can I avoid you, when you are at my home at least once a week? You have a key.”

“And I’m not afraid to use it," he threatened with a smirk. “Where’s my guy?”

Charlie rolled her eyes subconsciously. “Hopefully pissing off anyone else that isn’t me,” she grumbled.

Abbot's eyebrows shot up. “Uh oh. Trouble in paradise? Want me to defend your honor?”

“I’m all good, Jack,” she replied with a light smile. “You just know how he gets when I’m here.”

“Oh, I know how he gets when you’re not here, and that’s enough for me.”

Eventually, once everyone had shuffled in for hand off- McKay from triage who hadn’t seen Charlie all day and quickly scolded everyone for not telling her, and Mateo who asked if she was coming back for good- and the rest of the night shift crew, they were ready to start rounds. Of course, that was the moment the Pitt came back online, machines beeping frantically as they rebooted, and the board roaring to life with color. Claps and hoots rang out. “Well, that solves one problem…” Robby started as he began his daily briefing. Charlie did not miss the way his eyes flicked to her on the word “problem”, but she chose to deal with that later.

“One last thing,” Robby said before everyone broke apart. “I expect everyone to help pitch in and make sure your patients’ files are scanned and uploaded into the system before you leave today. Adler is not getting paid to be here and I would like her to leave at a reasonable time.”

Ignoring the heat from Robby’s thinly hidden glare, Charlie offered additional information. “Scanners will be here, shredders under the desk. I can walk you through how to upload everything if you are not familiar. Please do not start shredding files until you have triple checked that things are scanned and uploaded properly. I can assure you, billing will come down here and cause a scene if records are missing and you do not want to deal with them. There is a reason those people do not work with other people.”

At that, Robby dismissed everyone and they broke apart to finish or start their shifts.

By the time rounds were done, Charlie, Dana, and Emma had already input the information from the white board into the electronic one, and started to scan paper charts into files, starting with the most critical patients who were currently being treated, and working their way through less severe cases, and ending with those who were already discharged.

Slowly, some of the younger day shift wandered into the scanner set up area to add everything in, while the attendings and some senior residents continued patient care. Charlie helped set up Santos, King, Javadi, and Whitaker with scanner stations and they took turns adding things in, charting, and shredding. The five of them fell into a system, enjoying the methodical tedium of paperwork filing and idle chit-chat after a long day. Charlie did not miss the occasional sideways glances Trinity was giving her- not necessarily judging, but more puzzled; trying to work something out in her head. Charlie continued to let her try to figure it out on her own, falling into conversation with Whitaker about farms. “I am not a particularly outdoorsy person. I love animals, but I kill every plant I touch and I don’t do well in the elements. I’m from Jersey, so my version of outside is the shore.”

“How’d you make your way to Pittsburgh?” Dennis asked, always curious to know how everyone ended up here, especially the ones who didn’t grow up in the area.

Charlie shrugged. “I needed a job. I worked in some small doctors’ offices back home, and I needed something to do while I put myself through school. I saw PTMC needed billers and I was willing to relocate, especially if it was to a place where I could afford an apartment on whatever salary I was offered. So I moved here at the ripe age of 18, and been here since. I swore I would never leave Jersey, but hey, what can you do?”

“Wait…” Javadi looked at Charlie quizzically. “You know how to run all this from billing?”

“In high school, I was the practice manger at a primary care office, and we were completely paper based. Before I left, I oversaw the switch to digital. And then once I got here, I was the person billing sent down to other departments every time something was wrong or they needed more information. I think I was kind of a personality hire, but I’m also a virgo, so it all kind of worked out. I was billing supervisor before I left, and on track to become manager of the department if I had stuck it out.”

“Why’d you leave?” Javadi continued. “Seems like you had a good thing going.”

Charlie sighed, letting her eyes go unfocused for a second as she thought of how to answer the question without seeming like a complete basket case.

“I was burnt out. After 10 years, I realized I hated it. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean it’s for you, ya know? And my husband was very…” she searched for the right word. “adamant that I did something that didn’t make me want to put my head through a wall. So I left, and went back to school.”

It was Trinity’s turn to add a question now, figuring it was safe as Charlie was finally opening up. “So I guess you’re not staying in the medical field?”

The redhead let out one loud laugh. “HA. No, I will leave that to all you beautiful geniuses. I am getting my doctorate in library sciences. Much more my speed. Books and public accommodation and kids' events. There’s still a bunch of political and bureaucratic bullshit, but it makes me happy.”

Mel's face lit up, “You’re a librarian? I love the library! My sister and I go once a week to switch out books, and she’s always trying out a new club. This week, it’s sewing.”

“Yeah, I am. Part time for now. It’s just easier with my classes and luckily my husband makes enough where I don’t have to stretch myself so thin. That is, if I don’t kill him before I get my PhD.” Everyone looked at her a little questioningly, not wanting to push. “Sorry. Chronic oversharer. I love my husband very, very much. He can just get on my nerves.” Charlie assured everyone with a smile. “I’m sure you all know what I mean," she added slightly under her breath. “Anywho, that’s why Dana called me in. I worked here for 8 years before I called it quits, and not to brag, but I was damn good at my job. I’m good with paper.” She shrugged. “And I still keep in touch with all the old guard. You’ll get worked into rotation too, I'm sure,” she added gesturing to the group. “I’m big on hosting. We’re just finishing up a big house renovation, so large gatherings have been on pause for a minute.”'

They continued to chat, all more comfortable now that they had any background on the newcomer. Whitaker even asked if they needed help with renovations, citing his need to constantly be doing something with his hands and fixing things. Trinity added in “I hate to say it at risk of you taking advantage of him, but Huckleberry did fix everything in my house. He is quite useful.”

“I appreciate that offer.” Charlie nodded gratefully. “Between my husband and Jack, I’m surprised they’ve let me hire a single professional to do anything. But it might be nice to have someone who I don’t have to worry about breaking a hip help out.” “

“Hey! I heard that!” Jack said, from the other side of the hub, where Charlie was unaware he was charting. “You are more than welcome to waste your money on some hack contractor. Be my guest!”

“Oh, yeah, because that’ll work. You’ll just show up and start questioning every single thing they do to the point where they can’t get anything done.”

“That was one time, and that plumber was going to overcharge you. You’re welcome!”

“My knight in shining armor” Charlie threw over her shoulder sarcastically.

“Exactly.” Jack nodded. “Which is why I’m here to see if you kids are ready to go home yet?”

Charlie immediately got defensive. “Not you too, I am perfectly capable of-"

Jack cut her off by putting his hands up and waving once, “I’m not kicking you out. I could just use the hub back”

“Fifteen more minutes and we should be out of your beautiful silver hair," Charlie said, looking around for confirmation from the rest of the group. Mel finished shortly after, followed by Javadi. Santos and Whitaker ended up working together to get in the last of her charting, and Charlie stayed till the bitter end to make sure all the shredders and scanners and laptops made it back to IT. As she loaded up a cart with all the tech for one of the newer nurses to run back across the hospital, she turned to Dana. “Where’s Robby?”

“Knowing him? Taking on a case he shouldn’t while he waits for you. Check West 14.”

Charlie sighed, “Sounds like him. Alright, I’ll grab him once I’m ready and then corral him outta here. You get outta here too, alright? You’ve had a day and a half.”

“Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart. You know I can hold my own.”

“I know you can, but it doesn’t mean you should have to,” Charlie added with a squeeze of her shoulder. Dana returned her easy, knowing smile, as she finished placing everything on the cart, and sent it off. She had never made it to the lockers, so she grabbed her bag from under the desk, and headed off towards the west hall and triage to find Robby before she left. He was watching Donnie place some sutures in a forearm lac, but not really doing anything other than supervising.

“Sorry to interrupt. Doctor Robby, I’m heading out.”

He nodded to the NP and excused himself from the case. “Donnie, you all set here?”

“Could do it in my sleep, Robby. Get outta here.” Robby smiled and assured the patient he was in the best hands possible, before slipping out the door behind Charlie. She had already walked to the locker room, and waited for him there, his helmet in her hands.

“You’re not gonna let me Uber home are you?” she questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Nope!” He grinned, popping the p while grabbing his bag and jacket.

“And you’re gonna make me wear the helmet, aren’t you?”

“But you look so cute in it.”

“Bite me, Robinavitch. Your skull is just as important as mine.”

“Yeah yeah, should have brought one with you when you left. You know me better than that.”

They slipped out the door and headed to the back through the ambulance bay that lead to where Robby’s motorcycle was parked. She stood next to the bike and fixed her bag so it was closed and strapped to her, under her jacket, while Robby placed his belongings in the small bag on the back. He stood in front of Charlie and placed his index finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “You mad at me?”

She huffed for a second, mulling over the answer, but allowing him to move his hand to cradle the side of her face. “No. I just hate when you look at me like I’m going to crack into a million pieces. You don’t have to wrap me in bubble wrap and keep me home forever. Coming back here once in a while won’t kill me.”

“I’m sorry.” He said, planting a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second at the softness. “I just wanted to check in. I was trying to give you an out if you wanted it. Go home and blame it on me, ya know?”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, Mikey. I didn’t mean to undermine you.”

“Oh, please, baby," he giggled. “You know I love it when you yell at me. And when the accent comes out? Oh, be still my heart.”

“Keep it in your pants, Robinavitch.” She pushed his shoulders and he grabbed her wrists in each of his hands, pulling her close to his chest, both of their heads tilting to kiss before separating and getting on the bike. Robby got on first, letting Charlie hop on behind him and wrap her arms around him, before he turned the bike on and rolled them out of the parking lot and onto the road home.

End Notes:

If you flirt with everyone all the time, no one ever knows who you're actually involved with. Never let them know your next move.

By the time Thursday came around, you were doubting everything. Your mind changed every five minutes. You shouldn’t tell Jug. You should have told Jug from the beginning. Well, better late than never, right? You shouldn’t even be with FP. You should be with FP and not tell Jug outright, but not hide it either. Your head cycled through every possibility all day long. You barely accomplished anything other than going through the daily motions, as you were too preoccupied with worrying over how tonight was going to go. No matter how anxiety ridden you were, you never texted FP. For one thing, you didn’t want to freak him out. He was probably already worried and didn’t need your freak out on top of his. But more than that, you trusted him. You knew this was important to him and the right thing to do overall, so you let him take the reigns. It was comforting to know that whatever ended up happening, at least you and FP would have to deal with it together.

You weren’t sure when Jug was heading over to the trailer, so you sent a text to FP after you got out of school simply asking him to keep you updated. He texted back quickly saying Jug was coming over now and he’d let you know how it went as soon as he could. You thought about doing something to preoccupy your mind while you waited, but knew that trying to do anything would be useless. So you just went home. And waited. And waited.

It felt like decades had gone by when your phone finally chimed with a text from FP asking you to come over for dinner. Was he serious? No context, no update. Just a dinner invite? You typed back furiously “uhhhh what am I walking into here, Jones?”. Fuck, it went bad. You knew it was a bad idea. Fuck.

His response came quick, but not quick enough to calm the rising anxiety in your stomach.

“He took it good. Invited Betty over too. Figured it'd be nice to get everyone on the same page right off the bat”

Oh. Okay. So Jug didn’t hate your guts. That was promising. You’d have to feel out exact how he was taking it when you got there, but knowing Betty would be there too was promising. You got yourself ready, texted Betty to see if she wanted a ride, and then you went on your merry way.

Betty had a lot of questions in the car ride over. She knew you had seen FP again because of your sleepover text escapades and you’d made some casual comments about how it was going here and there, but nothing of any substance. You kept FP from Betty mostly because you didn’t want to have to ask her to lie to Jughead. She kept the little information she had known to herself, but now that it was out in the open, she was ravenous for details. Between her and Jughead’s thirst for knowledge and inability to leave anything alone, you were shocked it had taken this long honestly. She asked how serious things had gotten and how often you saw each other and if you’d discussed any future plans. And you told her everything. Honestly, it felt nice to be able to confide in someone about your relationship.

By the time you got to the South Side, Betty was fully clued in on your life. You walked up to the trailer, letting Betty enter first. You ambled in behind her nervous as all hell. It was like telling Jug about the bet all over again, except with way more than 50 bucks at stake. FP greeted Betty with a warm hug and then turned to you. “How’s my girl?” he asked with a grin, throwing his arms around you and kissing the top of your head before you could even get a word out.

“Oh you know, living the dream,” you responded angling your head up so he could plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“God, it’s so much worse seeing it. Like I knew it was happening but- fuck, that’s just off-putting” said Jughead, with no real malice in his voice and just a dash of pure disgust.

“Aw, stop it; they’re cute!” Betty gushed. Your cheeks turned pink at the attention, but FP made no move to let you go which comforted your anxiety.

You hadn’t really thought about the whole “my boyfriend can’t cook anything that isn’t microwaveable” thing when you had originally made dinner plans, but thankfully he had taken the initiative to order in at some point. And Chinese food was bound to make anyone agreeable to even the most uncomfortable of situations.

But luckily, things were mostly normal at dinner. Jug and FP caught up on Serpent news, while Betty filled you in on Riverdale’s mystery de jour. (She was 100% convinced that there was something funky up with that new girl and her weirdly blonde dad, but everyone else thought she was crazy. You believed her, but knew better than to get involved. You were NOT going to be the next girl knifed to a musical background because you sniffed around too hard at the insanity that followed B around). Somehow, the conversations got intertwined when FP and Betty connected the dots that maybe this weird girl’s “Farm” was where Fangs had been disappearing to, and you found yourself extremely out of the loop. You excused yourself to start dinner clean up, and, to your surprise, Jughead volunteered to help you. Not that Jughead was a necessarily unhelpful person, you just assumed he would be of more help with the discussion at hand. And that he would probably want to give you a wide birth while he processed the news that you were dating his father. Either one.

You started to silently put away leftovers and wash dishes by hand, as you couldn’t think of anything to say to each other. Silence with Jug had always been comfortable before- a time to think and write and not have to fill the void with mindless bullshit. But for the first time it felt fragile- like one loud noise and the whole trailer would blow up. You just had to say something. Anything. But before you could decide on whether or not it was stupid to talk to your best friend about the weather, he decided to point out the giant leather-clad elephant in the room.

“I’m trying really hard to not be weird about this,” he admitted while drying the plates you were washing. You blinked at him, afraid to cut him off. “I mean, logically, i’m not…opposed. Dad and I have never been particularly close and it’s not like I even live here. You’ve just always fit into a particular space in my life and now I have to find a way to fit you into a very different space.”

“I get that. And I’m not asking you to change anything for me. I know we’ve always had a bond over growing up the way we did. Independent" - i.e. neglected- "and rocky." - i.e. unstable- "And I don’t want this to change that.”

He looked mildly incredulous, “Of course it changes that. I can’t-“

You cut him off. “Yes you can". You lowered your voice and turned to look Jughead in the eye for possibly the first time in weeks. “Yes, FP is my boyfriend. Yes, I have incredibly strong feelings for him that I’m still trying to work out. But I was your friend first. And he was your dad first- a shitty one! And you’re still trying to repair that relationship. You can still talk to me about him, even the bad stuff. I’m not going to automatically take his side in everything. I knew who he was when I started seeing him, don’t think I don’t know.”

Jughead studied you like one of the boards with red string and different clues he has set up. He just stared at your with those unwavering eyes and you refused to look away, not even once. He finally found whatever he was searching for. “Okay,” he sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s just going to be an adjustment period. But if you’re both happy then…” he trails off and shrugs, but you can tell there’s more thoughts in that always one-step-ahead brain of his. You wait for him to form them into a sentence. “I don’t want you to get hurt either. He wasn’t always particularly good with my mom. Or Alice. Once things settle, he gets... complacent. Stops caring.” Jughead's gaze found a point in the distance to fixate on while he thought, surely, about his own relationship with FP Jones and how once things got hard, he stopped trying with him too.

“I know. And this has only been a few weeks, I’m not expecting anything at this point. I’m not saying he’s changed because I don’t know. I wasn’t there for the before and I can’t be sure if we’re in the after. i just know that I believe he has the capability to be a good guy, and that’s enough for me to give him a chance. I see it in the way he tries now. Please don’t think I would ever date a man believing he’s still shitty.”

Jug snorts at that. “You do love to put men in their place.”

“I really, really do.” Jughead bumps his shoulder into yours and it feels good. Normal. Feels like acceptance.

-------------------------------------------------

By the time Jughead and Betty left, you’d decided it was late enough to warrant you staying the night. You and FP flopped down onto the couch, coming down from a joint anxiety wave that you hadn’t even really noticed.

"That went well,” he stated to no one in particular. “I think,” he added, scrunching up his face just the tiniest bit.

“Very well,” you responded, turning towards him and tucking yourself into his side. “Jug and I talked for a little. He’s okay with it.”

FP just twisted his head to look and you and quirked it to the side, looking for more details. “It'll be an adjustment period for him,” you continued. “But nothing he can’t handle. I think he knows that this makes sense. We make sense.” You laced your fingers in between his as he kissed the top of your head.

“Good. That makes this so much easier,” he admitted, resting his head on top of yours. You sat like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, breathing slow, enjoying the silence, and sharing small kisses and light touches.

Eventually FP scooped you up and carried you to bed, where light touches became heavier and kisses became feverish, until you were both so warn out that you passed out, wrapped up in each other again.

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Author's Note Pt 2:

I will never get over the Chad Michael Murray Organ Harvesting Incest Cult plot line.

Why are you, as an adult man, blonde, CMM?

Trying to get back into the flow of writing this as a full blown adult is crazy because I lack the suspension of disbelief that I had when I started writing this. Why are you dating that child, FP Jones? But for you all?? I will suspend my life if you asked.

Tags under the cut:

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Chapter 6: Morning

It’s still dark out when Robby gets up for work. Despite the ache in his lower back from last night, he manages to get out of the bed quietly, careful to detangle himself without waking anyone else. He takes a minute to just stare at his bed and the people currently in it. His beautiful wife, shock of red hair splayed out around her, curled onto her side, wrapped around his beautiful Jack. He smiles a little, wishing he could stay here forever: the three of them and this ridiculously large bed that Charlie insisted on. He busies himself getting ready for the day; shower, coffee, breakfast. By the time he has to leave, he’s so enamored with how he woke up this morning that for the first time in a long time, he thinks about retiring. He doesn’t actually want to- he loves the Pitt too much (despite everything he might say) and knows he has at least ten more good years in him. But for this? To wake up every morning in a bed with his favorite people? To not have to get up before dawn, and be able to naturally wake up with them and the sun and laze about, exploring each other at their leisure? He would do a lot of things to be able to get that every single morning. But he knows part of what makes it perfect is how he doesn’t get that constantly, knows that too much of a good thing is still too much. He can’t imagine a time where this would ever be too much, but he knows he’d miss the Pitt either way. So he kisses Charlie and Jack softly on the top of the head before grabbing his helmet and leaving for the day. “Love you.” He whispers to the room, knowing they can’t hear him, but hoping they know he says it every time anyway.

Jack wakes up naturally around 7:30, still entirely too early for Charlie. But once he starts to toss, she’s fluttering her eyes open as well. “Hi.” He says simply as her eyes finally land on him, voice rough and deep with sleep.

“Why are you so sexy this early? Not fair,” she responds with a frown, picking up a pillow to shove in his face. He laughs as he deflects it with one hand and grabs her wrist with the other. He pulls her over so she’s resting on top of him, albeit at an odd angle. She leans down to kiss him, unhurried and deep. It’s not long before she’s repositioned herself to be straddling him, morning wood poking at her core.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I got to wake up like this,” Jack mumbles in between kisses.

“I do. Valentine’s Day. You were on nights, and Robby had off. I’m surprised you were even able to walk by the time we were through with you,” Charlie remembers fondly. Jack's dick twitches at the thought, remembering the way Robby had taken him apart over and over that day. “Aww,” Charlie coos. “You miss him, don’t you?”

Jack just rolls his eyes and bring Charlie’s lips back to his to shut her up. Charlie begins to grind her hips against Jack absentmindedly, and the man’s breath starts to quicken and stutter.

“C'mon baby girl,” Jack whispers in her ear, grabbing at the meat of her thighs. “You gonna ride me?”

Charlie nods and goes to position herself onto Jack's cock, which already looks painfully hard.

“Hold on," he says, and pushes himself up on the bed so he’s sitting. It’s Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes as she settles back into his lap. “Just gotta be touching as much of me as possible…”

“Always, Lottie. Always wanna touch my girl.” Charlie gets goosebumps at the way he speaks to her, and lifts herself enough to hold Jack's cock in place and slide down on it, gasping a little at the intrusion. “Fucking hell,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her in for another kiss, and keeping them pressed together as she starts to grind in his lap.

Her hands make their way into his hair, and pull at the little curls there. With the way Jack has them pressed together, Charlie can’t get much leverage, but neither of them mind. The slow grind of her clit against him and the feeling of Jack deep as possible in her is enough to have them both gasping- especially this early in the morning, still a little spent from the night before. Using the angle to her advantage, she starts to kiss and suck at Jack's neck and jaw, over the short stubble there, anywhere she can manage to get her lips on him. Once she finds a good spot that makes him moan, she stops where she’s at and bites. Jack lets up his grip a little and slides his hands down over her body, finally resting at her ass. She uses the slight freedom and the momentum of his hands to start to bounce, just enough to get a rhythm going. Her arms are wrapped around his neck and she brings his face in close to hers to kiss again, swallowing down the noises he’s making. His hands knead and pull at the flesh of her ass, hard enough to bruise, encouraging her to go faster. She pulls back from his lips to throw her head back, face scrunched in concentration as she lets out pinched little moans. Jack knows she’s close, from the way she starts to mix in a grind after each bounce, from the noises she’s making, from the face, from everything. He’s seen this enough times, made her absolutely fall apart on him enough times, that he could put a timer to it if he really wanted to.

He surges forward to lick and suck and bite at the column of her neck and her shoulder. He spends the brief moments when his mouth is not otherwise occupied whispering all her favorite things in her ear. “My good girl. My little Lottie, you gonna cum for me? You gonna be good and cum around my cock? C'mon sweetheart, let me feel you.”

She can do nothing but moan and nod in response, right on the edge. Jack brings one hand up to her chin, grabs her face, and forces her head forward. “Look at me.” Her eyes snap open and find his already trained on her, mouth a little agape and pupils blown, short grey curls a mess from sleep. He nods at her in encouragement and it’s enough to finish her off. She slows to a deep grind and Jack is right being her, watching her shake and clench in his grasp. He finishes inside her with a deep groan, and relaxes back against the headboard. Charlie stays in his lap, curled against his chest, him softening in her slowly. He starts to stroke her back, her hair, her sides. Anywhere his hands can reach, Jack's touching and pressing little kisses. He’s telling her how good she is, how well she takes him, how beautiful she looks like this.

Charlie just smiles at the compliments and lets them soak into her skin with the morning sun creaking through the window. She could fall back asleep like this, sitting up with him still fully seated inside her, melting into his chest. But she knows the comfort will soon turn to sticky displeasure. So she gingerly lifts herself off of him, letting out a little gasp as they disconnect, and rolls to the side of him on the bed. He leans down to smother her in more kisses, putting his hands on her again- never getting enough. She laughs at his neediness and meets his lips half-way once she can, and reaches for his hand as he leans over her. She wishes Robby was here to field some of Jack's restless energy, but also just because she wants him there. Because they’d all be better for it.

“Alright, alright,” she finally says, when his kisses start getting a little lower on her body and she knows he's angling for another round. He looks up at her from the spot his head had stopped at her sternum, all hazel eyes and innocent expression. “We gotta get up. Be people.”

His face sours. “We don’t have to. I don’t have work for hours. And you have the day off.” He goes back to kissing down her stomach, stubble scratching in the best way. “We could spend all day here,” he whispers into her hip.

Charlie ignores the shivers it sends up her spine. She makes a mental note to find a day when all three of them have off and do just that, actually. Maybe even get out of the city, rent a little place for the weekend out further in the woods. It would probably be good for them. But not today.

“I have a house to put back together," Charlie props herself up on her elbows and reminds him.

“Are you kidding?” he laughs, laying his head down on her stomach, not yet giving up completely. “I think Mohan might have vacuumed for you at one point last night. The house is spotless.”

“I assure you, it is not. You don’t have to help, you can just sit there and look cute. But I need to get up.” She emphasizes her last sentence by carding her fingers into his hair and pulling up, a move that gets a hearty moan out of him.

“Oh that’s not fair!” he complains, as she wiggles out of his grasp with the distraction and jogs into the ensuite to start her day, laughing at him as she goes.

End Notes:

Jack Abbot physical touch love language truther. and acts of service. Robby likes physical touch and quality time.

+ 1

There’s only so many platonic kisses from a super hot jock that a single-braincelled gay man can take. And 5 is the limit. Eddie has been absolutely losing it since he high tailed it out of the last sticky situation he was in with Steve, still trying to wrap his brain around what the fuck was happening. He’s gone back and forth between a bunch of different theories, but usually ends up ping-ponging between “Steve is just a very affectionate friend who is comfortable in his heterosexuality” and “Steve keeps kissing me for a reason”. Eddie refuses to acknowledge the fact that this reason is because Steve actually likes kissing other boys in a very gay, very homosexual way, refuses to even toy with the idea that Steve likes him in that kind of way. But even though he fully believes it is actually impossible, Eddie has been mildly avoiding Steve for the past few weeks. Not totally! But anytime that Eddie isn’t sure if Robin is also working, he waits to return his tapes until he’s sure she is. And anytime Steve calls to invite Eddie over for movie night or to do something with the kids or anything, Eddie makes sure he leaves early enough that he’s not the last one standing. Makes sure he only goes into the kitchen for a snack when someone else is already in there. It’s just safer this way, he thinks. He doesn’t have to deal with the issue if it’s never really an issue, right? Doesn’t have to answer or ask any questions if he and Steve aren’t alone together for them to come up. 

However, Steve isn’t a complete fucking idiot and notices something is up. It takes him a little while, assuming Eddie is just busy with the band or D&D for a couple weeks before he really starts to notice the pattern. But once he does, he’s worried. Worried because he knows what Eddie’s been through in the past year, knows from personal experience how hard it is to live in "the after" of that. He knows that sometimes it can take a long time to really process and show any signs of PTSD, knows it can get even worse around the anniversary of the event (which is right about…now actually). And above all of it, he knows how fucking lonely it is, how hard it is to try to do it by yourself. I mean, hell, Steve didn’t really have anyone to talk to until Robin came around, because it was just too weird with Jonathan and Nancy, and the kids were just kids. And even after he had Robin, he still had to go home sometimes. Usually to an empty house. And even if it wasn’t empty, it’s not like he could tell his parents what was going on, just had to put on a brave face and blame his weird mood on a failed algebra test or a bad day at work. So yeah, he’s no stranger to having to go through all this shit alone and trying to just deal with the impossible- with the way his scars itch and he always feels like there’s something just around the corner and the ringing in his ears sometimes and the migraines and the way his chest starts to tighten when he thinks about any of it too hard. And Steve is determined to make sure Eddie doesn’t have to go through that alone, not like he did. 

So they have a movie night. It’s supposed to be Eddie’s turn to pick, but he’s waiting for the new Evil Dead to get in at Family Video, so they let El pick and she chooses The Goonies (after some helpful suggestions from Robin), which no one is opposed to because it’s fricking The Goonies. And they're at the point where Chunk is telling the Fratellis about everything bad he’s ever done when Steve gets up and goes to the kitchen to make more popcorn. He hates yelling during the movie, but knows it’ll actually be less distracting in the long run. “Eddie can you come here and help me with something?” He knows Eddie is about to complain, ask why someone else can’t do it, he can feel it in his bones like a sixth sense, so he continues. “I need someone tall.” He knows Argyle is actually the tallest out of the group, but he’s been passed out in the recliner since the Truffle Shuffle. He also knows Eddie will never resist an opportunity to remind everyone that he is exactly one inch taller than Steve and yes it matters. 

Eddie hops up from his spot on the floor, too blinded by his own ego to see this is obviously a trap. Steve would never ask him for help to reach something, his pride would prevent him. But Eddie is in the kitchen now, and Steve is pointing to the cabinet above the fridge “there’s more popcorn in there, I just can’t reach it.” 

“Aw, too short down there in under 6-foot land? Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you, seeing that I’m the tallest man in the world,” Eddie says, patting Steve on the head patronizingly. 

“In the world?” Steve just repeats, in disbelief at how Eddie’s ego knows no bounds. 

“Ever, actually,” he casually replies, handing Steve the box of Pop Secret with a smug smile. 

He turns on his heel to return to the living room, but Steve grabs his wrist before he can. 

“Uh, actually I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” Steve says, voice softer and eyes kinder than they were a minute ago. 

Oh no. Oh no oh fuck oh shit. He was about to tell Eddie that he thought this had all gone too far and he knew Eddie had a big fat gay crush on him and that Steve was flattered but just Straight with a capital S. And that was fine! Eddie could live with that, it was honestly probably the best let down he could hope for. But it was so nice living in this delusion where every kiss with Steve didn’t have an overcast cloud of “he rejected you!” over it yet. But Eddie realizes that he’s going to have to have this conversation sooner or later. And he wants to run, oh god does he want to high tail it the fuck outta dodge, but he can’t. No more running, right?

“Ohkayyyy,” Eddie says, feigning oblivion. He decided to stay, not to face it like a man. Baby steps. 

“I just uh.. I just noticed that you’ve been ya know kinda off the past few weeks." (Eddie starts to sweat) "You haven’t been around as much-" (his eyes are looking everywhere except Steve) "-and you pretty much always leave while it’s still light out-" (oh god was it that obvious that he didn’t want to be alone with Steve at night?) "- and you’re just keeping to yourself a little more.” (God he’s so fucking transparent) “I just wanted to let you know that, I get it." (Here is comes) "It’s been a year since everything and it’s never easy on the anniversary and I know it’s fucking scary but you don’t have to do this alone."  (Steve is still holding his wrist) “You know, you have me and Robin and everyone else to talk to or to stay with and we get it. And I know it’s hard to talk about this shit, but you went through literal hell and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. " (Wait he’s confused) "We’re all still processing and dealing with that trauma and PTSD is super complicated, so like we’re here to talk. It helps a lot more than you think, and I just don’t want you to have to deal with all your Upside Down shit alone, okay?" (He’s still confused but putting the pieces together.) 

And Eddie just stairs at Steve for a minute, computing everything Steve just said. Just stares for too long then is appropriate, probably. And Steve looks so concerned, so sincere. And Eddie can’t help but laugh. Fucking fully toothygrincan’tbreathe LAUGH. And now Steve’s a little pissed because, hey man-we all went through shit and people died and we almost died it’s not fucking funny. But before he can chastise Eddie, the taller man is apologizing. “Oh fuck I’m sorry. I’m not—that was really sweet. And I appreciate the fuck outta you. That’s just so not where I thought this conversation was going.” 

Steve’s relieved. “Oh.” 

Eddie’s relieved “Yeah.”

“So where did you think it was going? “

Eddie is no longer relieved. “Oh it’s nothing.” 

“Because something is definitely up with you.”

Fuck. Damn Harrington and his spider sense for always knowing what’s wrong.

Eddie has a couple options. He can keep walking on eggshells, ignoring his friends, and flaking early and pretend like nothing is happening forever. (Or until his crush on Steve goes away. Which it won’t. So forever). He can stop doing that, but still avoid this conversation, and just act like nothing ever happened. (Which notably will be impossible, with the way he can’t ever take his eyes off Steve when they’re together.) Or he can face this. Right here, right now. He can tell Steve what’s going on and they can both get the fuck over it. And hell, the man saved the entire world with a guitar solo, he can face a straight boy not liking him back. 

“I like you” 

“Yeah I’d hope so. You’re in my home and we’ve been hanging out for like a year.” 

“No like… I have, uh, romantic feelings for you. And I know you don’t feel the same and you’re straight and that’s fine, I just couldn’t keep dealing with being around you all the time and you flirting back and kissing me because even though I know it never meant anything to you, it meant something to me and was really confusing so I just had to put some distance there. And I know that you’re probably gonna be pretty upset with me for, like, being gay and letting you joke with me or whatever and that’s fine, I just, uh. Yeah. That’s why I’m being weird. The Upside Down stuff is like, completely secondary to everything else going on in my head right now.” 

Steve just lets Eddie ramble. Lets him get it all out while he listens with his arms folded across his chest and eyebrows raised. Once Eddie finally finishes, finally meets Steve’s eyes, Steve can’t help but quirk his brows into the bitchiest expression he can muster. 

“First of all, you gotta sort out your priorities. The anniversary of our group shadow dimension almost-death should definitely come before worrying about boys. Second of all, who told you that?” 

Eddie’s a little taken aback at Steve’s nonchalance. And confused again. “Told me what?” 

“Like. Half of that shit. That I’d be mad at you for flirting with me? That it was a joke? That I’m straight?”

Now that last one really catches Eddie off-guard. “Well. No one. But like. You are. Right? Straight I mean.” 

Steve’s face is just getting more contorted as this conversation goes on. “Eddie!” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Who’s my favorite singer?” 

“What?” 

“Answer the question” 

“Springsteen. Or Madonna.” 

"And what’s my favorite movie?"

“You tell everyone its Animal House but its Rocky Horror.” 

It’s like Eddie doesn’t even hear the words that are coming out of his own mouth. And Steve is looking at him wide eyed with an eerily similar expression to the one Robin gave him in that Star Court bathroom stall in the summer of ‘85. “Eddie…” he takes a step closer and Eddie move his eyes to meet Steve’s, brow still furrowed, ass now pressed against the countertop. Steve boxes him in, puts both hands on the counter on either side of Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie, wants to kiss him and shut him up and drown in those stupid big eyes so fucking bad, but apparently that hasn’t worked yet! Apparently kissing 5 times is just too vague for the metal head. So Steve does what he does best, he flirts relentlessly. His mouth is inches away from Eddie’s and Eddie looks almost drunk off it, trying to follow around Steve’s eyes and lips at the same time. “Remember what you called me in the RV when you were hotwiring it last spring break?” Steve is whispering into Eddie’s blushed skin. 

Eddie swallows heavily trying to focus on the meaning behind the words and not just the fact that he can feel them on his skin. “Uh…big boy?” He says, voice almost squeaking, completely void of all previous bravado or sex appeal. 

“Mhm,” Steve nods slightly. “I always knew I was into guys. But you calling me that, while hot wiring a fucking trailer. It wasn’t just Johnny Depp in Nightmare on Elm Street in a crop top or Tim Curry in those fishnets anymore. It wasn’t a hypothetical anymore. It was right in front of me. It was you. A little dirty and in leather and me in your fucking vest and you grinning up at me like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to me.” The whole time he’s making this confession, he’s whispering it straight into Eddie’s skin. He’s getting impossibly closer and ghosting over ever where Eddie needs him. But they’re crotch to crotch at this point and Eddie can feel Steve getting half hard against him at the thought of the memory and Eddie is quick to follow in his footsteps. Eddie is silent, eyes half closed and just relishing at Steve being all over him. “Eds..” Steve practically licks up Eddie’s neck, getting only a hum that sounds like a question back. He removes his right hand from its place on the counter and brings it to Eddie’s chin, gripping it just enough to shock him into opening his eyes and really looking at Steve. “Kiss me.” 

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands are in Steve’s hair, his shoulders his waist, his ass, just moving trying to feel all of him. Steve is pressing him into the counter so hard now Eddie thinks there might be a bruise across the backs of his thighs, but he doesn’t fucking care because the way the front of their bodies press together is worth everything. Steve’s hands are in Eddie’s hair now, tugging just right and Eddie’s mouth opens enough to let Steve bite his bottom lip and tug. And Eddie almost moans out loud, but catches himself just in time. “Steve.” Now it’s his turn to return a noncommittal hum. “Steve-“ Eddie says more pointedly this time, pulijng him back just slightly by his pockets. Before Steve can protest, before he can let out the whine he's on the verge of, Eddie reminds him of their current situation. “There are kids in the other room. And if you keep going, I’m going to cream my jeans in your kitchen.” Steve loves the idea of Eddie cumming in his pants for him, if he’s being honest, but understands the issue. “Stay the night?” He asks with a few more kisses to Eddie’s neck. “You’ll be lucky if you ever get rid of me again” and Eddie has to practically drag Steve back to the living room, where they’re now sitting almost on top of each other on the floor against the couch. It takes about 10 minutes before the kids realize they never brought back popcorn and Nancy decides to go do it her damn self. 

A/N:

The Goonies came out in June of 1985. It’s a banger. I think that El would really like it because it’s got adventure and friendship and bad guys who get what’s coming to them and has a happy ending. It remind her of her friends and she has a crush on Mikey (also rip Bob) 

Popcorn was like huge in the 80s? Act 11 and Pop Secret both came out in the early 80s as microwave popcorn and so did a bunch of other brands. I didn’t know it came out so late??? Wtf??? I forget microwaves didn’t exist.

I named each of these chapters after a song from the 80s and they've all been period accurate accept for this one, which came out in August of '87 ( this would take place around March/April of '87), but it's fucking TIFFANY so I made an exception. Anywhore, here's a list of the songs in case you wanna check them out.

You Spin Me Round by Dead or Alive

Every Breath You Take by The Police

Happy New Year by Abba

Suddenly, Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors

Drive by The Cars

I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany

The word felt weird on your tongue. Girlfriend.  It felt even weirder calling him your boyfriend. You didn’t use them in front of other people, not yet. It all still felt so delicate. You had admitted to Betty and Veronica that you were seeing FP, but didn’t divulge that it was exclusive or serious yet. You were also quite aware that Jughead was not as oblivious as he pretended to be, but neither of you dared bring it up to the other. 

As days slipped into weeks, you got more comfortable with the words. Eventually, you had slipped into a routine with FP. You’d see each other a few times a week, either at his trailer or the Wyrm or occasionally the overlook. Usually, you’d sleepover and either drive yourself home or to school in the morning. It was comfortable, almost domestic, how easily you wrapped your lives around each other.  He bought more food (you preferred that he let you cook, but he at least owned spices and herbs now); the trailer stayed cleaner and brighter with fewer empty beer cans littered around. You were brighter, too. You had always felt like a person out of their time- too old to still be in high school by most standards, the oldest kid in your family with no siblings or cousins to keep you company, forced to grow up too fast, but too young to be considered an adult in all the ways that mattered. Nothing that was supposed to feel right ever did. So it made sense that the first thing to ever feel right was a man that was supposed to be wrong. It worked, though. Somehow, it worked.

Easily your favorite part of your newfound relationship was sleeping next to FP. Falling asleep to the sound of his even heartbeat and low breath had become soothing in a way you would have never imagined. Waking up to his messy hair and gruff voice might have been even better. On the nights you couldn’t spend with him, you tossed and turned violently for hours-unable to find the comfort of sleep without being wrapped up in your man’s arms. Unfortunately, this was one of those nights. No amount of pillow flips, weighted blankets, or calming audios would put you to bed like FP could. You picked up your phone to text him- but the bright white numbers reading “3:30” made you decide against it; it was much too late to bother him. Instead, you decided to tire yourself out in the only way you knew how: with your hand slipped into your sweatpants lazily working yourself up until maybe-just maybe an orgasm would tire you out enough to put you out. But apparently, sleep wasn’t the only thing FP has ruined for you. Why were you sitting here touching yourself in vain when you could be getting railed by your boyfriend? Unfair. Ridiculous. You would just have to spend the rest of the night tossing until maybe sleep took you. 

The next day was frustrating, to say the least. Working on barely two and a half hours of sleep, school was painful to get through. The only thing keeping you from going home to sleep was knowing that you were headed to FP’s trailer as soon as the end-of-day bell rang. You spent most of your day tapping your foot impatiently and chewing on your pen cap with heavy-lidded eyes, praying that somehow the clock would speed up. Somehow, you slugged through your day and eventually heaved your limp body into your car. By the time you had realized you had forgotten to turn on your radio, you were already halfway to FP’s trailer. 

Once you finally arrived, you wasted no time on the usual once-over of yourself in your rearview mirror. You walked right into the trailer without even bothering to knock, took one glance at FP sitting on his sofa, and collapsed directly on top of him, head snugly in his lap. He chuckled as he ran his fingers through your hair and brushed it out of your face, which turned to look at him. “Long day, huh, baby girl?”

“You have ruined my life, Forsythe,” you informed him in a low monotone. 

“Naw, don’t say that, baby. What happened?” He was actually concerned which made you feel a slight pang of guilt. Maybe you shouldn’t have started with that. Oops.

You sat up and took off your coat which you hadn’t originally bothered to peel off. “I can’t sleep…” you muttered softly. 

“How exactly is that my fault?”

“You’re too comfy!”,  you whined at him dramatically. “How am I supposed to get any sleep in a cold empty bed, when I’m used to passing out on your stupid warm, soft chest?”

He looked at you with stars in his eyes as a smile grew on his face. “You’re mad at me because I’m too good of a cuddler?”

“Precisely!”

“Jesus fucking…” he muttered as he got up from the couch and took your hands, leading you up with him. “C’mere…”

You followed him gratefully into the bedroom and sat down on the corner of the bed, slowly inching up towards the pillows to crawl under the covers. 

“You’re gonna sleep in jeans?” he asked for with a quark of his brow. 

“Sorry I didn't put PJs in my backpack today,” you replied snarkily, ready to just sleep. 

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” he threw a large flannel over at you. “Get comfy, kiddo.” 

You started to strip down to just your panties, “I hate when you call me that.” 

He shot you a questioning glace, prodding you to explain. “It makes this weirder than it already is.” 

“Wasn’t aware that it was weird.” It was his turn to strip down now, just to his teeshirt and boxers. 

You lifted up the covers and set underneath them trying to get comfortable at once. “I mean it’s not weird but I just don’t need to be reminded that you’re over twice my age, thank you very much.”

He followed you into bed and pulled you close, hiking your leg up as far as it could go. “Shush. You’re just mad that I was backstage with Motley Crue while you weren’t even born.” He kissed your forehead with a smile. “Now sleep, little girl.” 

Sleep started to take over your body but you’d be damned if you didn’t get the last word in. “I still can’t believe Tommy Lee bottomed for you.”

As your eyes closed and you faded into sweet oblivion, you could hear FP faintly whisper “I never should have told you that.” 

—————————————————————-

You woke up with a startle to what sounded like the trailer door opening. FP was still next to you, also starting to wake and looking just as confused. 

Your first thought was that this was going to end bloody. Some ghost from FP’s past or some new Riverdale Psycho was gonna come to turn your cozy little life upside down in mere seconds. What ended up being reality was quite possibly way worse. 

“Dad?” Jughead’s voice rang loud and clear through the trailer. You and FP looked at each other with wide eyes, panicked, to say the least. 

“Go!” you whispered to him, hitting him out of bed frantically as you began to look for your pants at least. 

He scrambled out of bed and the small bedroom slamming the door shut behind him as he came into view of his son. It was close too; one more corner and Jughead would have found you. 

It wasn’t so much that you didn’t want Jughead to know. it was just easier. You had no idea how you would begin to explain how this bet had blossomed into so much more. When the time finally came, you definitely wanted it to be on your own terms and not caught half-naked in bed on a Tuesday afternoon. 

You could barely hear the conversation between the father and son, too focused on your own thoughts of what you would say if Jughead for some reason needed to come into the bedroom. From what you gathered, Jug needed help fixing up a motorcycle he picked up and wanted to see if his dad was up for the task. All you could think about was how that could have been a phone call, a text even. But no, he just had to come all the way here to ask this 5-second question. FP was quick to agree to help him and set up a time later this week for him to come over with the bike to work on it. He made up some excuse about having a long day and being exhausted, ushering Jughead out the door just as quickly as he burst in. once he was sure Jug was gone and not coming back, he walked back into the bedroom and ran his hands through his hair. God, he looked sexy when he was stressed.