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Robby had just sat down at his desk for the worst brand of administrative day—the kind with a budget meeting just after lunch—when Jack banged into his office with, "A lightbulb, Robby, I swear to god."

Jack dropped a tablet on his desk and collapsed onto the ancient gray couch along the wall, an attempt to make the office look more welcoming than the windowless box it was. It looked more welcoming with Jack on it, anyway—all sprawled out, rumpled after his shift, curls askew. Not that Robby should be thinking such things about his best friend, much less his best friend who was still grieving his wife. Especially not when Robby himself was still a mess after Pittfest.

And yet.

"Dare I even ask," Robby said as he took a sip from his travel mug and sat back to enjoy whatever this was.

"It's the adult version of toddlers sticking their fingers in electrical sockets," Jack said, rubbing a hand over his face. "Only in reverse and somehow even more terminally stupid."

Robby couldn't help his grin. "I gather it went up in the traditional orientation and this wasn't a case of a creative flared base gone wrong."

Jack dropped his hand and glared at him. "That would've involved some actual thought. Have you ever tried to pass a lightbulb through the exterior sphincter without breaking the glass?"

"I'm impressed he got it up there in one piece," Robby said, not even bothering to repress his smile. "I assume it was a he?"

"You bet your ass."

"Or his," Robby quipped.

That just made Jack shoot another glare at him. "Thank you for mocking my pain right now."

"Please," Robby dismissed. "This sounds like the perfect torment vehicle for Ellis. You should've gotten an hour of material out of this, easy."

"Except you have her on a swing shift today," Jack said, like that was somehow the bigger offense than a guy shoving a lightbulb where the sun don't shine. "Shen was covering a trauma and the only qualified resident was Brandt, who I promised wouldn't have to do any more sex stuff this week after he got traumatized by another penile ring entrapment. Titanium ring, Robby. Does a marriage really need that much commitment?"

"Ha!" Robby couldn't help his burst of laughter. He did enjoy Jack. "This is what you get for being too nice to your residents," he said, shooting Jack a superior look. "Sympathy denied."

Jack made a disgruntled noise. "I see how it is," he muttered. Then he shook himself. "Whatever, just sign that order for me and we're square. I need a prescribing doctor who's not me. Which is bullshit, honestly. Fucking insurance."

Curious, Robby grabbed the tablet, putting on his glasses to take a look. Jack's name as the patient was expected—they sometimes played "official" doctor for the other, when they were really just treating themselves—but then he got to the medication: "Yeztugo," he said, hearing the surprised waver in his own voice.

"Yeah, our insurer added it to their formulary. Thank you, FDA, for the 'breakthrough therapy' and 'priority review' designations," Jack said, shaking his head. "Even this fuckin' Administration couldn't argue with those clinical trial results."

Which was true, and incredibly fast—no doubt helped by Gilead's relentless lobbying—but that wasn't actually the point of his surprise. "Why would you need to be on PrEP?" Robby asked slowly, suddenly feeling like he was floating outside his body, watching this scene from a distance.

Jack looked at him obviously. "'Cause I'm planning on getting railed and it's the responsible thing to do," he said, like this should be no surprise at all rather than Jack coming out to him. At Robby's silence, Jack narrowed his eyes. "Got a problem with that?"

Robby blinked, slamming back into his body, aware of his elevated heart rate, the sweat prickling along his lower back and at the backs of his knees, making his dress slacks clammy. "Nope," he said, because he didn't. He didn't.

He just...hadn't known, that was all. Jack had never once hinted at being into men, now or in the past. Granted, he'd had Liz, and then had been grieving Liz, so consumed with the loss he couldn't see anyone else.

Apparently not anymore.

And then it really registered what Jack was saying. He was planning to go out and get fucked. Heat rushed through Robby at the idea of some random guy laying Jack out and—

Robby instantly shut that thought down, already feeling the flush in his traitorous skin. Dammit. The white button-down that he wore on admin days would make it even more obvious, too. He tried to swallow any emotion around it and focus on the medicine. "Going for the fancy stuff, huh?"

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "Fuck a pill every day or a shot every other month. I'll take a shot twice a year like a civilized human."

Which was fair enough and one of the benefits of Yeztugo, a way around the medication adherence issues that plagued the daily pill, especially. But it was the newest PrEP regimen, with no generics available, which meant it had to be horrifically expensive. "They're really covering it?"

"You know, they did a study comparing lifetime healthcare costs for patients with HIV versus not," Jack said, a roundabout way of getting to an answer.

"I'll bet they did more than one," Robby said, dry. Because who cared about quality of life or doing the right thing; what mattered in America was what it cost.

Jack huffed an agreeing kind of breath. "Positive patients have six to seven times the utilization. Over a million dollars more, on average. Compared to that, insurance spending a few thousand bucks twice a year for a drug that's 99.9% effective in preventing infection is a goddamn steal."

Robby nodded, signing the order. If this was what Jack wanted, well, he was vastly more informed than most. He didn't need any advice from Robby.

Or anything else from Robby, come to think.

Robby shook off that thought, too. "You'll need labs first, to rule out active HIV infection."

"Already in the system," Jack said obviously, like Robby should know that Jack would be on top of it. "Antibody test plus confirmatory RNA assay."

Robby nodded; he should've known. "Okay, I'll go grab it."

That finally cracked Jack's cool. He uncrossed his arms, looking at Robby in bewilderment. "Brother, you don't need to do that. Dana's on, she can administer it."

Robby waved that away as he stood. "I got you. Be right back."

He didn't wait for a response, just walked out, closing his office door behind him.

Robby sucked in a breath as he sagged back against the wall next to the door. He could hear the bustle of office staff, the low murmur of voices and the ringing of phones, all familiar office sounds.

And still, he reeled.

'Cause I'm planning on getting railed, careened through his mind again, Robby feeling himself flush anew.

So this would be a new brand of hellish administrative day. How fun.

***

Robby used the trip to the pharmacy to practice calming breaths and brush up on Yeztugo's dosing and administration guidelines. By the time he got back to his office with everything he needed, his heart rate had almost returned to normal.

He walked in and spotted Jack still on the couch, now with his head tipped back, eyes closed, legs spread in a careless sprawl—

And there went all Robby's fucking calm. "Wakey, wakey," he said, gruff, trying to cover for the way his heart leapt. He dumped the Yeztugo kit and the supplies on his desk, then retook his seat, trying not to stare at Jack as he stirred.

"I'm good," Jack said on a rush of air, the way he did when he woke after falling asleep while watching a game.

It made something unbearably fond twist in Robby's chest.

"Aren't you always," he said, light, as he brought up Jack's chart and started typing.

When he finished that, he swiveled in his chair to find that Jack had opened the kit, studying one of the single-use 1.5mL vials. Jack's eyes gleamed as he looked to Robby. "Gotta love injecting meds that look like piss."

Robby snorted, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt so he could pull on gloves. Bright yellow in the small vial, it really did look like piss. Before he dealt with that, he dropped two of the tan tablets, each stamped 62L, into a little cup and handed it to Jack, followed by a water bottle. "Loading dose. Two oral 300-mil tablets. Once today and tomorrow. I have the second dose for you to take home."

Jack nodded and threw the pills back, swallowing them quickly. He crushed the little cup in his fist, then promptly basketball shot it into the trash can. And made his shot. Because of course he fucking did.

Robby shot him an unimpressed look. "Should I applaud?"

Jack smiled sweetly as he flipped him off.

It made Robby laugh despite himself. He pulled everything else out of the kit—the other vial, plus two 18-gauge withdrawal needles, two 22-gauge injection needles, and two syringes. Then he looked to Jack. "Where do you want it? Abdomen or thigh?"

"Abdomen," Jack said, flopping back on the couch and pulling up his scrub top and undershirt to expose his belly.

Robby startled at sight of that freckled skin, looking away quickly. "You got it," he said, moving to prep the injections. He checked each vial to make sure they weren't damaged, nor were there any particles present. Satisfied with that, he popped the first vial cap and cleaned the stopper with an alcohol wipe, then attached the 18 to the syringe and filled it. He swapped the 18 for the 22, and primed it to 1.5mL. Then he repeated the whole process for the second syringe.

Once he was done with that, he rolled his chair Jack's way, still waiting patiently on the couch, belly exposed. His green eyes glittered as he watched Robby silently.

But Robby didn't need to think about that. "Site preferences?" he asked, trying to keep it neutral. "They just have to be two inches from the navel and four inches from each other."

"Let's go for symmetry," Jack said, pointing at spots on either side of his belly.

Robby nodded and carefully prepped each site, then grabbed the first syringe. "Little prick," he warned as he inserted the needle at 90 degrees, making sure to inject into the subQ.

"Hopefully not so little in my future," Jack snarked, holding himself still.

Done with the first injection, Robby rolled his eyes. "Cute," he said, grabbing the second syringe. "And one more," he warned, quickly following it with the second injection. "Voila," he said, rolling back and setting the empty syringe aside, then snapping off his gloves. "Just hang out here for 15 to make sure you don't die of anaphylaxis."

Jack snorted, knowing the likelihood of that. "Catnap time," he drawled, tugging his shirt down and closing his eyes.

Robby smiled a little as he cleaned up. He trashed the kit box and instructions, then gathered everything else to dump in the medical waste bins. He left Jack to go do that, returning to find him actually asleep, his chest moving rhythmically, breaths deep and slow. Jack had once said the Army taught him to sleep anywhere, anytime. It was really something to see it in action.

He sat back at his desk and let the sound of Jack's breathing soothe him as he went through his emails, full of pre-budget meeting nonsense, carefully not thinking about Jack and...all of this.

Robby pulled himself out of his email a while later, noticing that it had definitely been long enough. He looked over at Jack—still out—and admired him for a moment, still and at peace like he never was—

He shook himself. That was quite enough of that. "Jack," he said, low, but loud enough to get attention.

Jack snapped awake, going from dead to the world to high alert in an instant. "What do we got?" he asked, sitting up straight.

Robby shot him a sympathetic look. "Sorry, man. Your 15 is up. You're welcome to the couch, but you should get home for some real sleep. You good?"

Jack yawned and scrubbed a hand over his face, nodding. "Yep." He pulled up his shirt to check the injection sites—nothing notable there—then stood, rolling his neck out. "Thanks, brother."

"Any time." He offered the Yeztugo pill bottle, with its two remaining pills rattling around. "You'll hit therapeutic levels after the day-two dose, so maybe wait a few hours after taking these before getting railed, huh?" Robby said, joking, though it sounded strange to his own ears.

Jack seemed to confirm that, looking at him oddly as he took the bottle. But all he said was, "Gee, how will I restrain myself." He tipped the bottle toward Robby and headed for the door.

Not loving how that had come out, Robby called after him, "Enjoy." Only after the fact did he realize that it could be taken as a weird sexual innuendo. Or maybe even bitchy.

Jack just snorted and ambled out.

Leaving Robby alone, a sour taste in his mouth at how that had ended. Shit.

***

He was distracted for the rest of the day. Thankfully, he could suffer a budget meeting with Gloria in his sleep, knowing exactly where she was going to try and screw the ED, just like she always did. He made the requisite objections, she countered, and on they danced.

Through it all, regret lived at the back of his mind, along with a frustrating new awareness of Jack. Robby had always been drawn to Jack, from the first moment they'd met, all throughout his marriage—to Robby's great shame, that—and on into his grief. Not once in any of that did Robby think anything could possibly come of it. Sure, the crush didn't fade over the years like he thought it would, but it was Jack; he defied expectation.

Now Jack had opened the door. Not in a direct way, of course, but Robby had talked about the guys he'd dated in the past. That wasn't a secret. So this felt...pointed. Except he didn't quite know what to make of it.

Robby wanted to talk about it, but the annoying thing was, he usually talked about stuff with Jack, which wasn't an option here. HIPAA meant he couldn't actually get into it with anyone, given they'd ask how he'd found out. He could skirt the details with Dana...but that felt weird. They didn't usually talk about relationship stuff. Much less sex stuff. They both liked to keep things professional at work, which Robby wholeheartedly believed in, except for how he was dying to go over this with someone.

And then, just as the budget meeting wrapped, illumination dawned. Because hadn't Jack offered the answer?

Ellis was working a swing shift.

***

On his way out, Robby grabbed a cup of coffee from the fancy machine they had, then made his way down to the ED, considering. Jack and Ellis had instinctively clicked back when she was an intern, already impressive on day one. Jack had once told Robby that he respected how Ellis understood the meaning of life: giving people shit and not fucking around. When Robby had quite reasonably pointed out that those two things were diametrically opposed, Jack had just patted his shoulder while shaking his head mournfully, as if Robby were somehow the misguided one.

Robby still didn't get it, but he did know one thing: Ellis was probably the keenest judge of character in the whole building. She also spent a lot more time with Jack than Robby did, working under him most nights. So he decided to do a casual check-in, just passing through on his break, scoping out how the ED was performing. If he happened to run into Ellis, well, that was a coincidence.

Of course, the first person he ran into was Yeo coming out of Trauma 1, on attending duty and clearly harassed. She shot him an unimpressed look. "Hovering, Robby?"

Robby held up a hand, no problem here. "Just stretching my legs. No offense intended, Carol."

"You stretch your legs for very long, I'm putting you to work, I don't care how fancy those shoes are," she said, brisk. Which was fair enough. It probably did seem like he was looking over her shoulder. Which he wasn't.

He moved on, scanning the floor—busy, but a controlled kind of chaos, nothing out of the ordinary. Robby was just about to call it when he heard her voice:

"Jesse will be back to go over your discharge instructions. You feel better now," Ellis said as she walked out of Central 7, closing the door behind her. She paused to tap at the tablet in hand, tilting her head such that a loc swept over her forehead. She brushed it away, looking up—

And spotted Robby instantly, nodding in greeting as she handed off her tablet to Jesse. "Boss man, didn't expect you down here today. And looking so pretty," she said, nodding to what he thought of as his administrative uniform—white button-down, tie, black slacks, dress shoes, an attempt to look like a respectable ED chief with Gloria, not that it did much good. Ellis' eyes dropped to the paper coffee cup in hand, bearing the signature PTMC coffee cup sleeve that only came from upstairs. "That C-suite coffee?" she guessed, her expression going knowing.

Robby held it out to her. "Black and strong and just this side of scalding." Because Jack and Ellis took their coffee the same way, the maniacs.

"Much like myself," she quipped, accepting the cup with a smile. "To what do I owe the bribery?"

"Bribery? I can't do something nice?" he asked, innocent. "I can be nice."

Ellis just took a slow sip, eyeing him expectantly.

So he relented. "I'd love to get your take on something."

She went smug. "Of course you would. Hit me."

Robby tipped his head toward the ambulance bay. "Take a break?"

"Lead the way."

***

Robby headed outside, off to the bench by the bikes, isolated enough from the medics and nurses on break that they could have a private conversation. Only once he got there and threw himself against the concrete wall...he didn't know quite how to get into it.

"So, uhh, you notice anything different about Abbot recently?" he tried, thinking maybe Ellis would make it easy on him and read his mind. She certainly seemed to with Jack.

Instead she just looked at him, visibly unimpressed. "Too many chants, too many TEMS shifts, too much coffee. Same old Abbot. You wanna be more specific?" she asked, taking another sip of coffee.

Robby shrugged, feeling weirdly called out. "Just wondering if he's talked about anything new happening lately."

Ellis actually rolled her eyes. "Jesus, stop beating around the bush. What, did you find out Abbot likes dick or something?"

Robby froze, unable to believe she just up and said it.

Ellis noticed. "Really? This is news to you?" Her expression went considering, some kind of lightning-fast calculations racing over her face.

"You know?" he asked, hearing the disbelief in his own voice.

She made a face. "Please, my gaydar is impeccable."

"Jack's not—" Robby broke off because he probably shouldn't be making pronouncements about Jack's sexuality, what with how little he apparently knew. "Do other people know?" he asked, morbidly curious. Did everyone know but him?

"Apparently not," Ellis said, watching him like he was her new favorite show.

"Oh." That weirdly made him feel better. This wasn't a secret Jack was only keeping from him.

"I take it from all this weirdness that it came up," Ellis said, prompting.

"Jack brought it up," Robby corrected because that was probably important.

"So he wanted you to know." She shot him a pointed look. "And you are not a homophobe."

"Okay?" Robby tried, not sure what the correct response was. She'd said it like a pronouncement, a proclamation from the Grand High Council of Lesbianism or whatever. Robby didn't think that was a thing, but if it were, he'd have no problem believing she was on it.

Her expression went pitying. "My point is since you're not a homophobe, you should probably be asking yourself why you're freaking out that your boy likes the D."

"I'm not freaking out. I'm—I'm surprised. I'm being a good friend," he added.

"Is that what all this is?" she asked, waving her coffee cup at him, tone dry as dust. "Being a good friend?"

Robby rubbed a hand over his face. "I just...don't know how I didn't know. Or why I'm only finding out now."

Ellis shrugged. "Jack keeps his shit to himself. Too much sometimes, you know that. You two are the same that way. He probably didn't want to get into it before, but thinks now it might come up. Just ask him about it."

Because their previous conversation had gone so very well.

But all Robby said was, "Yeah. Thanks, Ellis."

Ellis tipped her coffee cup in a kind of salute. "Always here for bribery. You have a good one," she said, then ambled away, back toward the ED.

Leaving Robby reconsidering everything.

***

He went through the rest of his day on autopilot, entirely distracted by how the conversation with Ellis cast things in a new light. Because that made clear: Jack could have gone to her. Sure, he and Robby played pretend doctor for each other, but Robby hadn't known that Jack was into guys while Ellis had. It would have been easier for Jack to ask her to sign the order, no weird revelatory moments with Robby required. Hell, it would've also been more convenient, given that the two of them shared shifts.

Which meant that Jack had chosen to ask Robby because he wanted Robby to know. More than that, he wanted Robby to know that he was off to fuck other guys. Not him. It was Jack coming out to him and letting him down in one, all wrapped up in the deniability of a legitimate medical purpose. It was classic fucking Jack.

If it left Robby crestfallen, well, that was his issue to deal with. He was a big boy; he knew how to accept rejection. He'd had more than his fair share of it over the years. Hell, at this point he was a fucking expert. Besides, maybe this would finally be the thing that let the air out of his attraction. Really, Jack could be doing him a favor here.

Even if he didn't fully believe that, Jack deserved better than his shitty fucking jokes. So Robby would make it right.

No matter how he felt about it.

***

Robby knew that Jack had the next two nights off, so he stopped by his place to shower and change out of his dress clothes into his usual cargos and a hoodie, then headed to Jack's. When Jack opened the door, wearing jeans and one of his ridiculous Army t-shirts, prosthetic on, Robby launched in: "I may have been an asshole back there, with the waiting comment."

Jack made a face at him. "Aw, you think you hurt my widdle feelings?" he asked, all mockery.

Robby sighed. "Man, I'm trying to apologize."

"I must have missed the 'sorry' in there," Jack said, crossing his arms.

"I'm sorry," Robby said in a harassed sort of way that totally undermined the truth of it. "Jesus. C'mon, are you gonna make me stand out here all night?"

Jack raised a cutting eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm alone?"

Robby blinked as his gut dropped, horrified realization freezing his insides, even as his skin blazed hot. That meant—but—hell, Jack had told him what he was planning to do. Why wait, really? Flashes of Jack with some random dude unspooled in his traitorous mind's eye, Robby flushing even hotter. Fuck.

"...oh," Robby finally managed. "Sorry. I can—"

Jack chuckled. "I'm totally fucking with you. Come on." He swung the door wide, nodding him in.

"Asshole," Robby said on a rush of breath out, glaring at him as he stepped inside.

"You'd be the expert," Jack shot back, dimpling as he headed to the kitchen. "Beer?" he called back.

"Fuck and yes," Robby said, deserving that much for all the images that were still parading through his mind. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to banish them.

But wasn't that just ignoring reality? That was exactly what Jack had planned, whether it was now or some other time.

Which was none of his business, Robby reminded himself.

Jack returned and handed him a half-pint bottle of Black Tuesday imperial stout, determined as he was to force Robby into beer-compliance. Robby didn't know why so many of them had such deeply unsettling names. At least this one wasn't Dragon's Milk, the very opposite of appealing, quality of the beer notwithstanding.

"Christ, brother, take a load off. You look like you're about to fall over and you're not even missing a leg," Jack said, leading him over to the black leather couch and collapsing onto it, taking a pull from his own bottle.

Robby sighed and followed suit, settling into his spot on the couch and sipping his beer. Bold flavor burst onto his tongue—dark fruit, molasses, and oak—complex and layered, alcohol biting. "Jesus, what is that? Like 18%?"

"More like 20," Jack said with a shrug.

"Trying to get me drunk," Robby muttered, taking another pull. He might want to be drunk for this conversation.

"Always," Jack said, light. Then he looked at Robby expectantly. "So. You're sorry."

"You caught me off guard. I was a dick about it. My bad," Robby said, holding his look and shrugging.

Jack studied him for a moment—

Then reached over and clinked their bottles. "All good, brother," he said, just like that.

Relief swept Robby; Jack wasn't one to hold grudges. If he said they were good, then they were good. So Robby nodded and took another sip of beer.

"Hey, since you're here, you can help me pick," Jack said, digging his phone from his pocket.

Robby felt a dawning sort of horror. "Pick?" he asked slowly.

"Uh-huh," Jack said, tapping at the screen. Making a satisfied noise, he tossed it to Robby, the display showing—

Well. That was definitely the full line of a guy's muscular back, all the way down to his bare ass. Of course he was ripped. "Give a guy some warning," Robby snarked, obligingly picking up the phone because he had to, at this point. He was cool. He could be so cool.

Cool enough to pick out a guy for Jack to fuck, absolutely.

"Because you're so offended by an ass," Jack said, taking a pull from his beer.

"Good thing or else I wouldn't be here hanging with one," Robby said, swiping through Jack's Grindr matches—all of dark-eyed men in their 40s and 50s, with chiseled jawlines and dark, graying hair, some with beards, some without, all striking in their own way.

Jack promptly flipped him off, to which Robby tossed a smile. "Now, now, honey, don't make promises you can't keep."

"I'll show you 'can't keep,'" Jack muttered.

Robby rolled his eyes, trying not to be annoyed. Sure, Jack didn't need to be a dick about it, but Robby had been dick enough for both of them, so he kept swiping, pausing to actually read the profiles every once in a while—

Until one caught his eye. "This one," he said, firm, handing the phone back.

Jack took in the guy's profile, looking through the pictures, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows. "Why him?" he asked, looking up at Robby, simple curiosity in his green eyes.

Robby shrugged. "He has kind eyes."

Jack looked down, nodded a little, and met Robby's gaze again. "Is that what you think I should go for? Kind eyes?"

Robby swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat, not sure what Jack was looking for here. "Could be worse," he tried. "Someone kind will probably give you what you want."

"And that's what I should go for?" Jack pressed, studying Robby.

"Man, what's with the riddles? Do what you want. Choose a total dick if that's your thing."

"Well, that's what I have you for," Jack said, a sly little smile appearing.

And oh, that stung. It sent a wave of frustrated longing rushing through him, along with the humiliation of not being good enough to be wanted. So much that he couldn't help but voice it. "Jesus, Jack. You don't need to rub it in."

The smile disappeared, confusion flitting across Jack's face. "Rub what in?"

Robby waved a vague hand toward himself, dismissive. "You know, that I'm not your speed. I got it, man, trust me."

Jack's confusion only seemed to deepen. "The hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine," Robby said, insistent, because it was. It was totally fine. "I'm a grown man. I'm not gonna fall apart."

Jack sat up and deposited his beer on the coffee table with a precise click, glaring at Robby now. "Brother, you're gonna have to be a lot clearer here because you're talking like you go for guys."

Now it was Robby's turn to be confused. "We've talked about the guys I've dated."

Jack blinked once, for all the world seeming shocked. "What the fuck? Name one."

"Rory," Robby said obviously. "You literally mocked the alliteration of our names, like the gigantic dweeb that you are."

Jack stared at him in amazement. "Rory was a dude?"

Robby shot him a duh look. "No shit, genius."

"That's a chick name."

"Mr. Rory O'Brien would have something to say about that," Robby snarked because he couldn't help himself.

Jack sliced a frustrated hand through the air. "Wait, you're telling me you dated a man of my people and you didn't tell me?"

"Alliteration. Whole discussion about it," Robby reminded, annoyed at the ridiculousness of this conversation.

Jack actually glared at him. "Unclear, Robby. Who else?"

"Devon. Casey. Alex," Robby listed because this was obvious.

"Well, why the fuck do you keep dating guys with unisex names? You couldn't drop a pronoun in there somewhere?" Jack huffed, clearly annoyed now.

"Man, it was obvious."

"Not to me," Jack said quickly, looking away now, something working in his expression.

Which landed the point...Jack really hadn't known. "So you didn't mean all this as a subtle letdown," Robby said slowly, his heart pulsing at the thought.

That got a huff, Jack finally looking at him again. "Brother, when have I ever struck you as subtle?" he asked, with no little amount of scorn.

And that...well, that was fair. Jack was big and loud and swaggery; he left subtlety to other people.

"...oh," Robby finally said, realization settling in to stay. Well, he'd gotten that entirely wrong.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "Wait, wait. Does this mean you saw me as an option?" He dropped his hand and looked at Robby, like he was seeing a picture clearly for the very first time.

Robby felt that traitorous longing slip through him, heating his skin, doubtless turning him all red in the way that never got less humiliating. "Well, I mean. You're...you," he said, helpless.

Jack stared unblinking for a long moment. "Oh, this is so stupid," he finally said, shaking his head. "You can never tell anyone about this."

Robby frowned, swamped in confusion. "About what?"

But Jack was already sliding closer, movements sleek and confident, Robby distracted by the careless sensuality of it—

And then Jack was suddenly in his space, taking his beer and setting it aside, moving even closer. Startled, Robby reared into the back of the couch—

But Jack just followed, gripping the back of his neck to hold him steady as he forcibly met Robby's eyes, gauging something. His lips quirked at whatever he saw, just slight, and then he leaned forward—

At the press of their lips, Robby let out a tiny whimper that was actually kind of humiliating, the feel of Jack's mouth searing through him. All he could do was give in to it, turning his head for a better angle and opening his mouth into the kiss, making another small sound at the brush of their tongues—

Sudden fire rushed through Robby as rational thought reengaged. Because Jack was kissing him. Jack wanted him. After years of frustrated desire, wanting from afar, Jack was here, in front of Robby, kissing him like he wanted him back. Robby gripped Jack's arm and yanked him closer—

Jack groaned into the kiss and promptly crawled into his lap, heavy weight pinning Robby in place as they kissed deeper, sharing taste and breath. Robby wrapped his arms around Jack and held him close, feeling the solidity of him, tasting the imperial stout off his tongue, head swimming with disbelief and a thick, pulsing desire.

Breathing hard, Jack pulled back to stare at Robby, his eyes already glassy, lips getting puffy from their kisses. "Hey, so I hear I should go to bed with a guy who has kind eyes."

***

Stumbling with Jack into his bedroom, kissing and losing clothes all the while, was a goddamn revelation. Every patch of skin held more freckles, Robby determined to taste all of them, fingers tracing over all the bunched muscle on display, even as Jack made frustrated noises and pushed at Robby's own clothes, too.

They hit the bed mostly naked, where Robby helped get Jack's leg off, then crawled on top of him, liking the way Jack groaned and sank back. Robby rocked their hips together, cocks hardening as they kissed, then moved off to explore all the skin underneath him, only to get towed back in for more kissing.

"I haven't—it's been—not since med school, man," Jack panted into their kisses, breathless and turned on. "Twenty years. I need—"

Robby understood him perfectly. "Yeah," he breathed, taking Jack's mouth, long and slow.

Which was how Robby found himself pressing three slick fingers deep inside Jack, drinking the moans from his mouth as he prepped him achingly slowly. He had Jack sprawled back on his white sheets, legs spread shamelessly wide, his fat cock hard against his belly, skin flushed everywhere. Robby thrust his fingers in and out, adding even more lube, too much of the bottle squeezed out on the fitted sheet in haste, both of them sweating and trembling slightly. It was messy and halting and glorious.

"Fuck, Robby, I'm good," Jack panted, hands clutching at his shoulders as Robby pressed his fingers deep once more.

"Yeah?" Robby rumbled, deliberately teasing his prostate. Jack was so hot and tight around his fingers, it made his cock pulse in time with his heart. "You don't want one more?"

"Your dick ain't that big," Jack said on a gasp, rocking into Robby's fingers like he couldn't help himself. "Get a move on." That was more coherent, his officer voice.

It made Robby smile. "Okay," he said, easy. He promptly pulled his fingers out and rolled away.

Jack gasped at the sudden loss. "Asshole," he muttered, grabbing a pillow and shoving it under his own hips.

Robby smirked as he rolled on the condom. "Are we naming body parts now? 'Cause I got one for you," he said, swiping more lube over his cock, ignoring the shivery pleasure of his own hand.

Jack stared at his cock with undisguised hunger. "I have no idea what you just said and you need to get inside me right now," he said in his serious voice, the kind he used in the trauma bays when shit went sideways.

It would be bad if Robby started associating that tone with sex, actually.

He huffed a wild laugh as he moved between Jack's legs, pressing them wide again, shifting his cock to Jack's hole. He rubbed the head over it a couple times, teasing.

"Robby, would you just fucking—"

He thrust forward before Jack could finish the thought, getting a gasp of pleasured shock that satisfied something at the base of his spine, separate and apart from the fire rushing through him at being gripped by Jack's body, as tight and hot as he'd felt around Robby's fingers.

"God," Jack called out, head snapped back, throat bared as Robby worked his way slowly inside him with tiny thrusts, controlling his instinctive need to pound into him. Robby pressed Jack's thighs up and wide, Jack just going with it, all bendy and unbothered. It was probably all the yoga, he thought deliriously.

And then Robby fully seated himself on a groan, keeping still and breathing deep so as not to totally fucking lose it. Jack had said he wanted to get railed; he deserved to have what he wanted.

After a few harsh, panting breaths, Robby felt Jack's body ease slightly, the tension releasing from the thighs Robby still gripped. "Fuck," Robby bit out at the feel of it, everything in him tingling in bliss.

Jack came back to himself, hazy eyes meeting Robby's, expression pleasure drunk and spaced out. "Please, yes," he rasped, hands grasping for him, urging him on.

Robby was pulling out and sinking back in before he knew it, fire pulsing through him in kind. He set up a careful rhythm, wanting to make sure he didn't hurt Jack. After all, it had been twenty years—

Jack clawed at his shoulders and gasped, "Harder," tilting his hips every time Robby fucked into him—

Robby obliged, thrusting into him harder, changing the angle slightly to hit his prostate—

Jack grunted in pleasure, his hands digging into Robby's shoulders. "Right fucking there," he ordered, voice tense, "and harder."

So Robby gave him what he wanted, fucking him hard and fast, enough to have the headboard thumping against the wall. Jack pried a hand from Robby's shoulders to brace against the headboard so that he didn't get shifted up toward it as Robby fucked him. He moaned freely, nonsense interspersed with Robby's name, the sound of it only adding to the desperate ecstasy flowing through him as he fucked Jack. It was visceral, base kind of fuck—Jack bent in half and entirely cock drunk, sweat dripping from Robby onto him, the slap of his balls against Jack's ass, their grunts and gasps the soundtrack to it all.

When Jack reached down to take his own cock in hand, the sight of it shot lightning up Robby's spine. Jack was leaking freely and he moaned at the touch of his own hand, the sight of that fat cockhead disappearing into his fist over and over again just obscene. "Mike, I need to—" Jack managed—

And then he was shooting all over his own stomach and chest, his ass clamping down on Robby—

White exploded over Robby's vision as he came, shuddering into Jack's body, thrusts gone jerky and uncontrolled as pleasure bowled him over. It went on and on, Robby burying himself in Jack's body, riding the high of it, every sense alive and screaming its bliss.

Robby panted as he came down, Jack trembling underneath him. He met Jack's dazed eyes, leaning in to kiss him again, softer now that the storm had passed, his Magen David dangling in the air between them, butting against Jack's jaw. Jack tilted his head and melted into it with a pleased sort of noise. He cradled Robby's head, soothing fingers massaging the back of his neck as the kiss stretched, unhurried now.

After an entirely thorough kiss, Robby pulled away enough to meet his gaze, feeling a silly zing of pride at the utterly fucked out look on his face. "You good?" Robby murmured, just to be sure.

"Living the fucking dream," Jack said in a way that was both jokey, but also entirely sincere.

Robby smiled and leaned in for one more kiss, already regretting that he was softening so soon. He pulled out carefully, Jack moaning at it. "I'd forgotten that," he muttered as Robby took care of the condom. Jack slowly lowered his legs with a grunt that acknowledged how long he'd been bent in half. Robby reached out to massage his hip flexors, admiring the picture he made—flushed and covered in sweat and his own come, the most open and vulnerable Robby had ever seen him.

Drawing his hands away, Robby leaned down to kiss one of the hips he'd been massaging. "Be right back."

He cleaned himself up quickly, then returned with a wash cloth. Jack sighed at the attentions, eventually batting the cloth away with a tired noise. "In," he ordered.

Exhaustion swamping him, Robby crawled into the bed, curled around Jack, and instantly dropped away.

***

Robby hummed at the feel of warm kisses progressing up his chest, reaching out to tangle his fingers in Jack's hair as he woke. He opened his eyes and focused, finding Jack playing with his Magen David, satisfaction in his expression as he surveyed Robby's body, naked amidst the wrecked sheets. The whole thing felt unreal, except for how it was the most real he'd ever felt.

"Get what you wanted?" Robby asked, dry, shifting against Jack's weight, flexing his toes, feeling every inch of his body in the best kind of way. There was nothing like a good fuck.

"Brother, I got more than what I wanted," Jack said with relish. "I had no idea you were some bisexual ass-fucking demigod."

Robby snorted. "A thing I have never been accused of."

But Jack's eyes narrowed as he thought. "Hang on. If you've been rocking guys' world like this, are you on PrEP?" he asked, like this was just occurring to him.

He nodded. "Truvada. I take it with my multi."

"Well, what the hell were you giving me grief for?" Jack huffed, glaring at him.

"I wasn't. I was reacting to you coming out to me on a Tuesday morning before I'd even finished my coffee." He tipped his head. "Admittedly, not my finest hour."

Jack made a face at him and tugged at his Magen David. "You really thought that was my way of letting you down?"

"It made more sense than you coming out for no reason," Robby said, a defensive note creeping into it.

"A guy can't want to get laid?" Jack shot back.

"You could've asked Ellis to sign the order," Robby said, looking at him pointedly.

Jack's jaw flexed as he took that in. "Yeah, okay," he admitted. "I wanted to go fuck around, but it felt like I was hiding, which sucked. I just didn't want to be all afterschool special about it."

Robby nodded, getting that. "Afterschool special successfully avoided. Instead you got us into, I don't even know. A two-bit comedy of errors?"

"It'll be our secret," Jack said, dry.

Robby winced. "About that..."

Jack dropped his Magen David, watching Robby closely. "What?"

"You know how you said I can never tell anyone about our little mix-up?"

"Yeah," Jack said slowly, his green eyes narrowing.

Robby shot him an apologetic look. "I may have talked to Ellis."

Jack dropped his forehead to Robby's chest, breath puffing there warmly as he made a kind of pathetic, whining noise. "Fuck," he drawled, long and low, like he despaired. Then he popped back up again. "Where's my phone?"

He rolled to the edge of the bed and reached for the crutches that lived there.

"Don't mind me," Robby said, trying not to laugh as Jack promptly crutched his way out of the room, entirely naked and not giving two shits.

Robby heard him make his way out to the great room. Then a, "Ha!" that echoed through the condo.

A few moments later he was back, shoving his phone over. Robby took it as Jack set his crutches aside and crawled back into bed, shoving in close to peer at the screen with him, showing Jack's text chain with Ellis, where some texts had come in while they were indisposed:

you're fuckin' welcome

Followed by:

you owe me until the heat death of the universe

Robby laughed, handing the phone to Jack. "On the bright side, she's highly susceptible to bribery," he offered.

Jack tossed the phone on the bedside table and turned back to Robby, leaning in close. "You know what? Small price to pay."

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.