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Somehow, the fickle fates of the deities of medicine aligned and they had managed the unthinkable. A rare stretch of 3 days off. Together. Robby didn’t know what hell they’ll have to pay for such a feat but at the moment the gift horse was happy and so was he.
The night before, Robby drags himself from the hospital to the grocery store instead of heading straight home to crash into bed. He grabs a frozen pizza, twizzlers, and to appease the delicate balance of their upper 40+ year old digestive systems, a veggie tray and hummus.
Last minute, Robby snags a bag of suckers that Jack particularly favors on the way to the register. Reverently remembering the Uber Eats Debacle of Fall 2024 the last time someone had forgotten to add them to their “Days Off Essentials” list.
An hour later, Robby was finally able to face plant into bed after putting the perishables away. He fumbles his way through turning on their white noise machine, eyes half open barely remembering to take off his glasses before they flutter shut completely.
Robby briefly remembered cracking his eyes open at some point to see the other side of the bed occupied. Jack had sprawled out on his back, right arm thrown wide. Strong yet gentle fingers tickling the delicate skin of Robby's neck as they clutched the collar of his sleep shirt. Scooting his way across the bed, Robby tucked into Jack's side, basking in the warm firmness of his partner. He drifts back to sleep with the comforting sound of Jack's heartbeat in his ear.
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Their first day off is spent more often than not, asleep. Risking their well tuned circadian clocks to pass away the hours curled under the covers, unaware of the bustling world outside.
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The second day is more of the same except, they trade the bed for the couch. Draping across each other despite the stifling Pittsburgh heat. Around noon, Jack pops out for a bit and returns with a pint of ice cream each. Bourbon Ball for him and Dutch Milk Chocolate for Robby. Thanking him with a tender kiss and an offered spoonful of his chocolate, Robby settles back into the cushions, groaning at the foot massage he receives without even asking.
Rolling his head on the back of the couch, Robby looks up at Jack with a lazy smile.
“Graeter's and a massage? You spoil me.” he muses, narrowing his eyes with mock suspension “What do you want?”
Throwing his own head back in mischievous delight, Jack replies “nothing you haven’t already given me, Darlin’ ”. He cackles, not even trying to stop the foot that's jabbing itself into his thigh.
“Ok! Okaaaay! Uncle!.” he soothes, a smug smile still highlighting his features. “I actually have one more surprise.”
He stretches, reaching for the brown kraft bag he’d dropped on the side table before strolling into the kitchen to grab spoons. Snagging the thin handles, he swings the bag over his head to land in Robby’s lap, hitting its target with a crinkly thump.
A loud “HA!” breaks the comfortable silence. Jack turns to see Robby holding up a cellophane wrapped baked good with mushy elation.
“I noticed you were out of brownies when I came in this morning. All I could imagine was the pitiful look on your face when you discovered the truth. It was the least I could do, as your chivalrous dashing white knight to rectif-”
“Jack” Robby interrupts the other man’s nonsense with a playful look, “go put the pizza in the oven.”
Robby’s heart beats double time with affection watching Jack leap off the couch and hustle to the kitchen. His crutch tattooing a pattern across the floor as anatomically correct heart print boxers disappeared around the corner.
And that’s how they spend the rest of day two. After devouring the pizza and half the veggie tray, they retreat back to the bedroom where Robby finds himself melting into the mattress, enveloped by the purple haze of Jack’s rings of smoke as they float out the open window.
“Doing okay there, sweetheart?”
Jack’s voice comes from above. Robby manages to pry his heavy eyelids open just enough to see the other man lounging back against the headboard, his latest thriller in one hand and a glowing joint in the other.
Robby can’t do much but stare up at him in wonder. Jack. His Jack. Sometimes he can’t believe the journey it took to get them to this place. The soaring ups and devastating downs and the uncertain certainty in between. Robby wouldn’t change a thing if it meant he ended up right here at this moment.
Realizing Robby still hadn’t answered him, Jack looked down in concern, expression brightening as he took in the utter chill bliss of the other man’s entire being.
“Yeah” he crows to himself, turning back to the crimes playing out on the page before him, “You’re more than okay”.
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They get a mildly late start on the third day. “Reset Day” as Jack loves to call it, much to Robby’s fond chagrin. They amble out of bed around noon. Dragging the sheets off the bed and in the direction of the in-unit washer. It’s Jack’s turn to do laundry, a fact that fills Robby with poorly concealed glee as he listens to the half hearted grumpling on his way to the kitchen.
Robby whips up a hearty breakfast to fuel them for the tasks ahead. They sit at the little round table in the corner of the living room, ankles crossed together as they pass the syrup and eggs. Robby offers to switch the laundry to the dryer if Jack does the grocery shopping, just so he doesn’t have to subject himself to that place again so soon.
Bribed with the last banana pancake from Robby’s plate, Jack agrees on one easy condition - that Robby makes the rich and creamy Olivye Jack loves so much for their weekly meal prep (also most definitely, for dinner that night). Self-satisfied with a barter gone well, he sets off for the store armed with a bundle of reusable bags and a somewhat deep well of patience. Robby clears the table, setting the dishes to soak while he sits down to answer a few pushed-to-the side emails.
They wind down at the end of the last day in the same place their little staycation began, wrapped around each other under the covers. Jack brushes a hand up and down the relaxed plane of Robby’s side before settling into the dip of his waist.
“So what did you have to do to get us so many days off? This has Shen written all over it somehow.” Robby huffs incredulously, wrapping an arm around Jack and pulling him closer.
Jack chuckles fighting sleep, warm breath fluttering Robby’s hair in its wake.
“A magician never reveals his secrets, Dr. Robinavitch.”
- END -