preachers daughter

Cw: Religious guilt and infidelity

Frank had to stay over at Robby's because transportation to their own houses was forbidden during covid. It's alright, him and Abby were in a tough spot at the moment. Maybe a bit of distance would do them good as newlyweds. Plus, he already really liked Dr. Robby. He looked at him big and bright. Firm hands on his shoulder, back, always offering him praise. So Frank didn't mind staying over at Robby's, it was another opportunity to prove himself even more to the older man.

It was awkward at first, the two tip toeing around each other the first couple of weeks. But it wasn't long before they were watching old game clips or going through Robby's massive streaming library, laughing over drinks and food. Frank liked to order out, but one day he decided to make breakfast instead getting something from the cafeteria. Of course, he made Robby some too. And he liked it, really liked it.

"You cook often, kid?" Robby asked, practially moaning inbetween a bite of egg.

"Uh, when I was younger, I cooked a lot." He admits, watching the older man scarf the food down. "Not so much now. Abby's more of a cook than men."

"Shit- if you cook this good, I'd love to taste her stuff." He scoffs.

His face burns a bit at the praise, "...I can keep cooking, I-if you like. I've gotten compliments on my homemade pizza."

"If you're offering." The attending gets up to put his plate in the sink, smiling at the brunette as he pats his back.

So he kept cooking, recipes from home, new recipes that were going on online, Robby even shared some of his Bubba's recipes. It felt nice, domestic. Frank wondered if he should be sharing these moments with Abby. He felt guilty that he liked sharing them with Robby.

6 months is a long time to spend with someone, especially someone like Dr. Michael Robinvatich. He was amazing but he wasn't perfect, he shattered more easily than Frank thought. There were lots of moments where he just dropped off food in front of Robby's door, the older man to drained and sad to interact with anyone. Frank considered himself lucky when Robby did share those broken moment's with him, rubbing his back as the man silently cried on the couch next to him. He also learned that Robby is a touchy man. He already somewhat knew that but it felt turned up to ten at home. The older man's hands always found a way to him, patting his lower back on the couch or rubbing the scruff his neck when Frank was looking down into a bowl. Frank also learned that he liked it. Sometimes, he would even spread his legs a bit when he felt the older man's leg rub against his in the dinner table.

"Are you gay?" Frank asked him one day, about 4 months in to this arrangement. He muttered out over an old horse racing clip they were watching on the couch

"...I'm not picky." Robby shrugged, sipping his beer. "Bisexual. You?"

"I thought I was straight. I'm rethinking things." He looked over to him, blushing once they met eyes. He suddenly felt a warm hand on his thigh, breath hitching as his rough thumb rubbed circles in his thigh. "I'm married."

"She wouldn't know. That being said, you're not that subtle, Frank. It just be us blowing off steam." He assured him. He pulled away his hand slowly. "Of course, I won't pressure you into anything-"

Frank grabbed his hand. Robby scooted closer. Guilt bore a hole into his stomach as he kissed him, it grew stronger as he melted into it. He's never kissed a man before, he never knew it felt as good as kissing a woman. Robby's lips were softer than expected. Frank panicked a little when he felt the older man's tongue press against his lips, but he let it in gently. It wasn't long before they were both moaning into kiss, the brunette's hands traveling up Robby's body while the older man's hands traveled to his belt. Fuck, when did he get hard? Fuck, why does his hands feel so good?

"R-robby." He breathes out against his lips, hips bucking his bare cock into the attending's working hands.

"Wanted to touch you for so long, such a pretty thing." He cooed, pressing a kiss against his neck.

"Fuck, sir." Frank moans out, titling his neck up more. He should care about Robby leaving marks, but Abby wouldn't know. Fuck, Abby he shouldn't do this. But god it feels so good. "A-am I pretty?"

"Gorgeous, baby." Robby whispers into his ear, making the brunette whine. His hips bucked faster into his hands, the older man making him shake with pleasure. "Shouldn't have waited, should've touched as soon as you got into my house."

"R-robby, robby- I'm-" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before he came with a devastating moan. He blew his load so quickly, was he a teenager? He felt like a teenager again. At Sunday service, hearing all about how he should marry a woman. God, what would his parents think? Him sharing a house with a man, 15 years his senior? Abby already thought it was weird. And she was right, he just gave Frank a hand job. The newlywed Frank Langdon received a handjob from his 51 year old boss, who was a man.

"Kid? Kid, you okay? You look like someone died."

"... I need to get some sleep." His voice tried not to break as tears welled up in his eyes. He left the man sitting there, cum cooling on his shirt and dumbfounded. The door closed around the guest room with a thud, and the waterworks immediately started.

What was wrong with him?

He was going to hell.

He was married. Married to a woman he loved.

This has to be the last time.

It wasn't the last time.

________________________________________________________________

huggy—— 

okay under cut contains: blood and violence, self-harm, vomiting, gender swap, and some unfinished artworks that i've never posted and will never finish.

I hate (love) them

It had been a year since Robby had last seen Frank. 

He had left before Robby had gotten back from his sabbatical, his absence a silent ghostly wound of Robby's anger. "He's not here." Was the only thing Jack offered during that first shift change catching Robby's searching eyes. They didn't talk about it after that. Robby knew that Jack was still in contact with Frank, learning it slowly as the months went on, hearing bits of conversations between Jack and Dana, an occasional comment from Mel, and a text to Shen. Robby knew Jack wasn't the only one in contact with Frank, which both pissed Robby off and gave him a sense of relief. Jack, however, didn't talk to Robby about Frank. 

He never talked to Robby about Frank. That was his only clue on how badly he fucked up. 

Now there he was, standing in front of Robby, talking to Dana with a baby on his hip...a baby with brown eyes. 

"Heard you're coming back." 

"Yeah, leave is finally up. It's going to be hard, but it will be good to be back." Robby's mind went blank. He couldn't move, his brain frantically trying to put the pieces together. 

"He's here for me." Jack pushed past Robby; that morning's handoff finished with little fanfare, walking up to Frank. Robby could only watch as his oldest friend leaned close, greeting the man Robby had once held so close, earning a soft smile as he took the baby with ease from the omega, placing a kiss on the baby's head, looking relaxed and happy in their presence. Something dark and ugly began to curl in Robby's core, burning hot and acidic. 

"Robby?" 

Robby looked over at Dennis, the young beta drawing Robby's attention away from the scene in front of him. The older alpha placed a hand on Dennis's shoulder, ready to turn him away but not before he saw it. Frank's mating gland was marred by an ugly, bruised, raised and swollen. A temporary claiming mark, but a claiming mark all the same. Robby's fingers clenched into the meat of Dennis's shoulders. 

"Robby?"

"Sorry," Robby apologised half-heartedly, "lead on, Dennis." 

***

Robby couldn’t sleep. The ugly thing in his stomach was stealing his sanity and his slumber that morning, playing in his head in a loop. 

The baby had brown eyes-brown eyes-HIS eyes.

Robby sprinted to the bathroom, barely sinking to his knees in front of the toilet before he was throwing up in a violent heave. Robby rocked back on his heels, reality slamming into him at a sickening pace. 

Memories of the night Robby left, burning hot and bright, the feel of Frank’s hands, the taste of his slick, the way he felt so right around Robby. Robby’s ears buzzed with Frank’s breathless moans and broken cries. The unspoken ‘I’m sorry’s’ and Robby’s equally silent ‘I hate yous’ uttered between each thrust. 

That night wasn’t a soft and tender thing; it was an angry and bitter fuck, a final goodbye born of desperate need and hurt feelings. 

Robby couldn’t breathe. The baby had brown eyes. He had-Frank was-his omega was left-

His hands once again gripped the toilet, emptying his stomach full of horror and regret wrapped in acid. Robby sank to the cool floor, heaving heavily, leaning his back against the wall. 

Jack had known. 

Robby’s breathing stopped at the thought. Ice flooded through Robby before it was consumed by white-hot anger. 

Jack had known the entire time. He was the one there when Frank was left to pick up the pieces, when his body had started to change. Jack was the one to support Frank when it should have been Robby. 

Images of Frank’s neck flashed through Robby’s eyes. That bruised and tender flesh, marked for all to see. Jack’s mark. 

Robby was going to kill him. He was going to kill him, going to mark and claim and-

“Robby?” 

Robby looked up at Dennis, soft and fucked out, leaning against the door jam of the bathroom, concern filling his eyes, wearing one of Robby’s t-shirts. His neck was decorated in a painting of beard burn and teeth, covering the pale expanse of skin except where Dennis’ mating glands were. Never there. 

“Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a moment,” Robby assured softly. Dennis didn’t move before nodding once and turning back to occupy his space in Robby’s bed. 

A robby x trans!langdon dysphoria hurt/comfort fic would be awesome, you write them phenomenally.

Or mel x trans!langdon, if you'd prefer! Not sure if you're sick of robdon

I am never sick of Robdon, you kidding me? Also is that what the ship name is? I've been tagging everything Robbylangdon.

Also aww thank you, they're so annoying and I hate them so much.

========

The thing was, after all this time, Frank was pretty used to how he looked. Most days he actually liked it.

Testosterone, top surgery, working out, all of it did a lot to help him feel more like his skin was his. That this was his place to reside, to be comfortable in, to be happy in. He had a happy trail he loved to spot when his shirt rode up, and a voice he knew got Robby going early in the morning and late at night, so distant from who he used to be. Hell, nowadays, anyone misgendering him just got weird looks.

Generally speaking, he loved it. He was proud of who he was, what he became, the moulding of himself to refract the light he wanted. It took him long enough to do it, but he got there. Slowly but nevertheless successfully.

Even still, some days, it was a lot. Sometimes, it was hard to enjoy, instead not looking up at the mirror as he got dressed and trying not to stare down at himself. Just going through the motion as quick as he could, wanting to not get caught up in the tornado forming slow in his head.

He could feel it already. Felt it all yesterday, and the day before. Felt it this morning as he got up earlier than Robby, pretty standard, and got dressed in the dark for his run.

Robby checking in on Frank during shifts, and especially during shifts when they do not work together. To know how the shift is going, to know that Frank is doing okay. Wanting to hear his voice when they're apart.

Frank doing something silly (for example, wanting to make a snow angel, or participate in a snowball fight) whilst Robby would want to stay away at any cost, but, instead, he can barely push down a smile. Hell, maybe he watches Frank laughing and goofing around and goes, "Oh, screw it." And joins him and they both get to feel so much joy, as if they're kids again and everything is a wonder.

Frank doing a regular thing, something as simple as brewing coffee in the morning, and Robby looks at him with such adoration and tenderness, anyone could have guessed that something is going on between them—given the glimpse of the way Robby just quietly leans on the doorway and watches Frank.

Robby being the one who watches Frank sleep. Even though he gets to do so over and over, he still can't get enough.

Robby being the one who starts nuzzling up to Frank first, murmuring, waking him up gently.

Robby initiating morning kisses and cuddles.

Robby wanting to take Frank out, give him gifts.

Robby wanting to walk alongside with Frank for hours, holding his hand.

Robby initiating the first kiss on that bridge and then setting the picture of the bridge as Frank's contact photo. "Langdon" and the photo of the bridge, no one from work would suspect anything. But then it's so sentimental and only he and Frank get to share the knowledge of what it actually means.