Work Text:
Robby is stretched out on the sun bed on the patio, beer in his hand, enjoying the breeze. A bee is checking out his naked toes before it takes off again towards the flowers. High above him, feathery clouds travel past with the wind.
A clang of BBQ tongs snapping together brings him back to the here and now, where a few feet away, Jack is manning the grill.
"This smells delicious," he says with an appreciative hum as he looks over.
"It's a whiskey–honey–bacon glaze," Jack says. "New recipe."
Robby takes a moment to let that settle. "Wait. Am I just your taste tester for your next barbecue with the boys?"
"Not at all," Jack says with a grin and a lie in his voice. "I'm making it for you first because I love you more, of course." He lifts up a steak and bends over to examine its underside. "But, if you have any pointers, I'll use them to improve the recipe – for our next barbecue, of course." At 'our,' he points the ends of the tongues between them before he clacks them together again and fucking winks at Robby. The gall.
Robby huffs. "I see how it is."
"You can get the salad and the potatoes. Steaks are almost ready." He'll want another beer, too, from the way he tilts his head almost all the way back when he takes a swig. Robby doesn't move, though. He stays where he is and enjoys the view a while longer.
Jack is wearing cargo shorts and a faded, threadbare T-shirt proclaiming him a fan of Metallica's third album. He's also got his Oakleys resting on top of his head between the curls, looking every bit the operator that he used to be. Right now, he's carefully practicing the Zen art of drizzling more whiskey–honey–bacon glaze on the steaks. The charcoal hisses as some of it drips down.
Robby loves seeing Jack like this – relaxed and focused on something that brings him so much joy. This is the same concentration that Jack applies in bed, when he makes Robby and Frank lose all coherent thought. It's a gorgeous sight.
"I love you," he blurts out and raises his bottle of beer in a half salute. "You and your fascination with meat and fire."
"Cheers to that." Jack stands up straight, reaches for his own beer, and clinks the bottoms of their bottles together. "I love you, too."