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It’d be Robby’s luck, to finally have made it to his four days off, and barely after he’d bought his road trip coffee, he’d drive past Jack, a duffle slung over his left shoulder, wandering down the street.
The weekender kind of bag. It was no coincidence they were in the same place at the same time. Jack had known his plans. Jack knew how he slept after a long rotation. The exact hour of the day Robby was likely to leave without even having to ask. And Jack had the audacity to be strolling down the sidewalk like he was wasting time. Waiting.
Robby was really looking forward to solitude after a hard few weeks. He packed books, an old school iPod, and even some cards he wasn’t sure what he planned to do with all by himself, but he could become a master dealer, or card stacker. There was enough beer in the back to knock a fully grown man out- as he had planned.
He could just drive right past Jack. Ignore him and his antics. Robby had every right to.
He was desperate for some alone time. But Jack could never take up space, as far as Robby was concerned. There was a chance they’d barely look at each other 80% of the trip anyway, except for when they tried to sleep through the nightmares. Jack chased the solitude as much as Robby did.
Jack would probably read the entire time anyway, or write his own analysis or summary of some research or article that he’d share with his favourite Dr Mohan when they got back.
Robby had never quite put his finger on why Jack had taken so strongly to her, but he could appreciate that they were both great doctors, and with Jack’s guidance, Dr Mohan could grow exponentially into a brilliant asset for the hospital. That was all he ever really wanted for her.
He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the hospital.
Fuck.
Robby indicated left and pulled over.
The window wound down agonisingly slow.
He stared at Jack.
Jack stared at him.
Some pair they were.
“Come on,”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack played, even as he walked around his truck, opening the passenger door,
“Sure. You’re just conveniently on the wrong side of town with a bag packed for a weekend away,”
“You’re taking me on a weekend getaway?”
Robby rolled his eyes.
He pulled back onto the road, headed towards the main highway like he’d started. No point in turning back now. He’d have to live with Jack. He could use the man for cooking actual food, and doing the dishes, and cleaning the old cob webs when they arrive.
Jack had been quiet since they’d started driving anyway, so Robby held strong faith he’d stay that way for most of their four days away. As long as Jack didn’t try to therapize him at any point in their trip, they could find a way to coexist.
“We have to make a stop,”
“We’re on the road out of the city. I’m not turning around,” Robby shook his head,
“You don’t have to. First stop, I’ll direct you a few turns. It’ll just be a few minutes,”
Robby sighed, “fine. But I’m not participating if it’s something ridiculous,”
“It’s just a stop, we’ll be back on the road in five minutes- what happened to the faith you used to have in me?”
“I’m old. And tired. And grumpy,” he would only ever admit that to Jack,
“Thank good I’m not there yet.”
It was right before the highway, Jack directed him left and a few minutes away from the hustle and bustle. The streets were quieter. Robby might use the word dingy. A very back alley feel consumed the streets the deeper they drove. Robby found himself frowning.
He had no intention of getting out of the car anywhere here. And he certainly wasn’t stepping foot in some unmarked building. Some half abandoned warehouse was not about to be his final resting place. Robby had never cared all that much about where or how he died, but he was certain it wasn’t about to be here.
“This turn. Should be on its own.”
Robby turned the wheel, an isolated building coming into sight immediately further down the road. It was run down, its neighbours probably fell down more likely than torn down. Tacky flashing neon signs in far too many places, badly parked cars in untidy lines out front.
“You were so desperate to stop at an adult bar?”
Robby would probably be a little disgusted if it were anyone else, but Jack wanting to stop at the derelict looking club just made Robby confused.
Jack didn’t conform to the standard idea of fun and a good time, or even attraction. He was not the kind of guy who had a rowdy bucks party, or any interest in attending someone else’s.
He didn’t flaunt his sexuality. He teased and indulged it, sure, but privately. Intimately. Personal. Never so disconnected and fleeting. Never void of actual interest and feeling.
Robby had no idea why Jack had made him stop at a place he had absolutely no interest in- either of them had any interest in. Robby too preferred to keep his sexual pleasures behind doors, with someone who gave some kind of damn about him.
Jack didn’t answer. He slipped out of the passenger side and made his way towards the front door before Robby had even flinched. He was on a mission for something- Robby kind of wondered what it was now.
It took a lot to put Jack out of character. He couldn’t possibly let Jack disappear inside alone.
He raced to catch up with his best friend, following him inside the darkened room. Stuffy, with cigarette smoke lingering enough to leave a visual haze through the building. A few people sat drinking, others played pool or darts over to the right of the room.
Robby concluded it wasn’t much more than a standard topless bar. Nothing absolutely scandalous. But it still wasn’t anywhere he or Jack would typically be caught dead, or even remotely enjoy.
The most appreciation Robby could spare for the cheap looking establishment was the fact that they hired both male and female servers delivering drinks around the room and dealing games. It made him feel less dirty about the entire situation.
Maybe an old buddy of Jack’s was here. Maybe they were picking something up from them. Maybe Jack wanted to buy some good liquor for their few days away- Robby could get behind that plan. He couldn’t see any other reason for Jack to be tugging his jacket off half way through the bar- until Robby saw him.
Broad, and pale, and full in the cheeks and under the eyes. Familiar curls, growing longer now, the strong stature of someone who had worked their entire life on a farm. Not shredded like he lived every spare second in the gym, muscles more subtle and daily worked.
“Whitaker?”
“Fuck!” The student startled, whirling in their direction,
“Hi, Sweetheart. Two beers.”
Jack pulled out a stool, draping his jacket over the back. Robby only knew cause he recognised the sounds. He’d watched Jack do that a hundred times before elsewhere.
This time, Robby’s eyes were glued to Whitaker. Eyes wide and pink from his toned chest to his ears, breathing heavily after the fright R had given him, calling his name.
“Bub?” Jack pushed, “two beers,”
“I’m driving,” Robby said stupidly, his brain short circuiting, how was that the first thing he could bring himself to say?
“One won’t put you over the limit,” Whitaker stammered just as lost, an obvious script.
Robby glanced at the bar, not even midday.
He suddenly noticed a displeased older man over Whitaker’s shoulder, maybe around Robby’s age, far more brooding and commanding. He certainly didn’t find any humour in their prolonged conversation. At least, not with a couple feet between Robby and Whitaker.
Robby could take a good guess that he was the owner, but not for the passion of the craft. He wanted the quick bucks Whitaker should’ve been making off two men like Jack and Robby. Buttering them up and pumping them full of alcohol, filling the rookie barman’s pockets with money.
A filthy man Robby had no intention of properly meeting.
“Make it three, and tell your boss to fuck himself,” Jack slipped a new notes on the tray in Whitaker’s hands. It seemed to snap the younger man back to total reality,
“I can’t lose this job. I need the money-“
“I’ll cover it,”
“I can’t ask-“
“You can’t work for someone like that,” Robby still couldn’t look away from the foul look on the man’s face.
That was his claim to reality. Robby wasn’t sure he wasn’t scowling back. All of his work tact evaporated outside of the ED. He wasn’t putting up with arrogant human beings who thought themselves better than everyone else.
He didn’t have a shred of kindness for this man, standing behind the counter like he somehow owned Whitaker. Like Whitaker owed him something. Like Whitaker was some kind of piece of meat.
Robby flushed hotter with rage.
“Besides… you hate this,” Jack was softer.
Robby focused back on Whitaker, frowning at the dejected look in his blue eyes, the way he held the empty serving tray perfectly to hide himself away as much as possible. Tilted just so, the length hiding much of his bare chest.
He was hunched in on himself, the way he did on bad days at the hospital. Like he had on his first day, after losing his first patient, and clearing out the spare supply of scrubs. Robby hated when Whitaker made himself so small. When his eyes got that sad look about them. The pout.
Whitaker did hate it. It was obvious a mile away. How did he not see that immediately?
“Forget the beers. Put the jacket on, and get in the truck,” Jack instructed,
Whitaker hesitated, “you can’t rescue me,”
“The fuck I can’t. Put this on. Robby will walk you out, I’ll be there in a second,”
“Don’t start anything,” Robby warned Jack, a partial beg as much as it was care.
He really didn’t want to be cleaning bloody knuckles today, or explaining to cops different blood splatters on the floor. They were doctors, and Robby preferred they leave the filthy establishment with that same integrity they’d arrived with.
As long as they had Whitaker, that was all that mattered.
“I’ll give him a bit of money to cover the shift, and I’ll be out on a minute. Stop worrying. Go. Out. Now.”
Jack ushered them towards the door, and Robby decided it was best to get Whitaker out before anything else. Who knows what he’d already been through here. Robby would come right back to get Jack the moment Whitaker was in the sunshine, where he enjoyed the fleeting few minutes of a break at the hospital on the odd occasion.
Robby knew that much. Whitaker loved the sun.
“What is Dr. Abbot going to do?” Whitaker asked, trudging alongside Robby with obvious concern,
“Jack... He’s going to take care of everything.”
Robby wasn’t sure he believed his own words. He just really hoped Jack didn’t plan to go throwing his fists around some sleazy, sticky bar they’d hopefully never step foot in again.
Robby seriously wasn’t up for that shit show today.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,”
“You have the right to quit your job. That trouble is not yours, it’s on your employer to replace you,”
“But I said I’d do the shift,”
“Dennis… Jack is very level headed in situations like this. He’ll handle everything. Just get in the car,” Robby clicked the electric lock, opening the back door for the younger man,
“Thank you, Dr. Robby,”
“It’s just Robby.”
The doctor closed the door behind Whitaker, walking straight back towards the building. Jack was level headed, but it didn’t mean anyone else was. He wasn’t about to let the man get himself into a situation-
Jack appeared. Stepping out into the sunshine, a backpack over his shoulder and two bottles of good liquor in his other hand. Robby stood stupidly and watched him put his sunglasses back on.
Jack had a lot to appreciate. And he was hot saving the day with little effort or fuss. He was so level and calm, and Robby cherished it amongst the crazy. When Jack reached his side, they fell into coordinated steps back towards the truck.
“It was a rescue mission…” Robby realised, “good job,”
“I put a few things together,” Jack shrugged,
“You didn’t think to drive yourself out here- before now?”
“The current cost of gas, figured better yours than mine… I only figured it out last night. Got him talking at the 4am lull. Figured he might spiral after we blow up this gig for him then dump him home... now someone can keep an eye on him,”
“I’m sure he has roommates, or-“
“He lives with Santos. Why do I know more about your inductees than you do?”
Jack jumped back in the passenger seat, checking in with Whitaker before Robby climbed in and started the engine, the younger man gratefully taking back his bag. It looked light, and floppy. He mustn’t have much in it.
Jack was right about the emotional turmoil they’d ignited. Whitaker was chewing at his lip, his left leg wouldn’t sit still, a finger was tearing at the skin on his thumb, and a few beads of sweat were visible on his temple, even to Robby in the front seat.
And, he had the jacket wrapped tight across his bare chest, hiding himself away.
Of course, Jack is right about everything. Robby hated it. And he fucking loved it. Jack’s brains were hot as hell. His protective streak, even more so.
“Hey…” Jack gently coaxed Whitaker, “I meant it when I said I’d take care of you… You can’t work somewhere like that, Bub. You actually interested in the work- find a legitimate establishment with morals and work for them. Not some freak who gets their kicks off being a pimp,”
“I don’t wanna do that kind of work,” Whitaker shook his head, “I just need the money,”
“We can figure that out without you compromising your comfort, Honey… you’ve got everything going for you. It’ll get better. I promise.”
A beat of silence passed as Robby drove back towards the main road. Whitaker stared out the window, Jack looked forward out the windshield, but remained open to the conversation with Whitaker. Encouraging, almost.
“This is further out of the city,” Whitaker piped up,
“Yeah. Robby’s taking us away.”
Oh. Robby hadn’t actually decided that. He’d just gotten behind the wheel and started driving.
For a brief second back in the bar, he’d forgotten about the trip altogether. His desperate attempt at running from his life had quickly gained two companions who he apparently, wasn’t as upset about joining as he’d put on.
He drove right past the next exit.
Jack sank deeper into the passenger seat, settling in, legs going slack. It peaked Robby’s interest. A twitch of desire.
It’d been a long time, and Jack was a man that oozed appeal. In his body, in his words, in his intelligence, in his empathy. Jack was hot when he got stubborn. When he took control. When he put care before protocol. When his arms flexed, and head tilt, and his knees fell wide open.
Robby had to force himself not to stare at the space open across his lap.
He didn’t know how he could even consider it, after the morning that had been. That bar had been about the furthest thing from turned on Robby had ever been. But his holiday agenda had included a little self care he’d been neglecting for considerable time now.
So he was a little pent up. Sue him.
He wasn’t going to pull up at the cabin, strip off and get right to his self care ritual, but he had been looking forward to it, and to backpedal was a disappointment that would take a day to process.
He flickered his eyes back to Whitaker for an excuse, before finally gaining the clarity needed for the road.
“You really are shy,” Robby realised,
“Well, growing up there weren’t all that many people around. And with sun protection- I don’t really have much to look at, anyway,”
“You should feel comfortable in your body, Dennis. It’s beautiful.”
Robby had to agree with Jack. As a doctor, he knew how amazing the human body was, but Whitaker specifically was, in fact, beautiful. He had strength, and obvious shapes and lines, but so much of him was also subtle.
Robby had found himself on occasion, when Dennis had worn through all his undershirts on a bad fluids day, drifting to the bare skin under the collar of the students scrubs. Eyes trialing over soft curves, seeking a peak of something hidden.
He stared at those blue eyes when Dennis wasn’t looking, and sometimes when he was. Robby had memorised every detail of his face. Grown fond of his teeth, so uniquely Whitaker. He knew the shades of pink his lips changed through depending on the weather, and Whitaker’s health, or his stress levels.
Robby knew his breathing patterns. The way it worked through his chest or abdomen. Robby could tell when Dennis recently washed his hair. Noted when he’d grown it longer and cut it differently. Old school. A mullet, more like Robby’s time.
Dennis was beautiful, and Robby would eagerly take a better look.
Bad thought.
Robby’s grip tightened over the steering wheel. He needed to get a grip. He took a breath, all in his chest, begging all corners of his brain to focus on the road, and not how long it had been since someone else had touched him.
Hell, since he had touched himself.
So much for his four days of unwinding. At this rate, he’d probably manage to get himself off in the shower- would have no choice but to just to make it through the long weekend.
It hadn’t been an hour, and his mind was already betraying him. Straying in directions Robby had refused. Jack was one thing. They were one thing. Dennis was a whole other thing.
“Here... To cover your shift today,” Jack fished out a stack of notes, handing it back towards Dennis,
“I really can’t,”
“Consider it a tip then. For being beautiful.”
Jack waved the notes at him enticingly.
Robby noticed the pink settle high on Dennis’s cheeks, watching in the rear vision mirror, and let himself grin as Whitaker shyly took the money with a quiet thank you.
Jack shared his locker combo with the student, telling him to help himself to whatever cash he needed in the future. He wasn’t to put himself in a position like that again. Robby agreed, bookmarked a mental note to withdraw cash more often just in case Whitaker needed it.
They settled into silence for the remainder of the highway drive.
Jack closed his eyes. He wasn’t a fan of the sun.
Dennis enjoyed the sunshine, and the drive. Looking out the window the entire way. Robby could tell he enjoyed the odd song on the radio. He had interesting taste in music Robby would love to delve into with him someday. He had a feeling Dennis had many interesting quirks Robby would adore.
He pulled into the driveway, the men following him out of the truck without prompting, bags in hand as he fiddled with the lock on the front door. It was worn, and rarely used, taking strength Robby typically only used to move patients.
“Have you holidayed together before?” Dennis wondered,
“Plenty,”
“I wouldn’t call those holidays,” Robby grumbled, “work trips- yeah. We’ve had our fair share of disasters,”
“You mean like natural disaster relief and mass casualty events?”
Jack nod, “yeah. Had to give Robby a spin in my kind of hospital,”
“Makeshift tents and bunks in the middle of nowhere,”
“That’s where we work our magic.”
Robby loved that Jack had tricks for days and experience he could only dream of. It just wasn’t his preferred method of patient care. He enjoyed the comfort of his hospital and copious technology.
Having a giddy Jack teach him all of his little go bag gadgets was a highlight, though. He was so proud of his discoveries, and his little knick-knacks, Robby could never say no to following him out to some atrocity to lend their helping hands and minds.
“We’ll have to figure out the bed situation later,” Robby muttered, tossing the keys on a dusty side table by the door, “Right now a beer sounds good,”
“Great idea,” Jack agreed,
“I didn’t think you were serious… It’s still early,” Dennis startled,
“I won’t tell anyone, Sweetheart,” Jack grinned.
Dennis put his backpack down where Jack carelessly tossed his bag, and Robby gave up all care and dumped his belongings in the same pile. That was future Robby’s problem. Like the bed situation he definitely wasn’t ready to face yet.
Jack hauled aside a couple bits of dusty furniture, giving them more room to move freely through the cabin around each other.
It wasn’t all necessary. Robby swore he was just taking the excuse to flex his arms to the small audience- had they gotten bigger? Robby wasn’t exactly complaining about the show. Didn’t even bother to hide it. Not with Jack. It wasn’t exactly their first rodeo with this flirting the line thing.
Robby did have to smile when he finally cracked and adverted his attention to Dennis. The younger man also intently staring at the pull in Jack’s far too tight sleeves, sucking on his bottom lip.
“Crack a beer,” Robby bit at Jack. Show off.
The man fetched three from the fridge, stocking it with new supplies to cover the loss. Robby mourned his plan to knock himself out for four days only briefly, before siping a beer and heading out towards the back of the house.
Robby loved the back patio. A simple slab of concrete, with a cheap entertaining set up. The couch cushions weren’t exactly soft, but Robby still liked sitting out there, wasting away time.
Whitaker sat to his left, and Jack across from them. Robby kicked his feet up on the unused fire pit, downing half of his beer in one go. Whitaker squirmed, still shy, making sure his bare chest was covered by Jack’s jacket. It hadn’t quite occurred to Robby until that moment that Whitaker was, in fact, wearing Jack’s jacket. Partially naked, and wearing Jack’s jacket.
A later thought.
Definitely a shower thought.
They chatted as they drank, growing more comfortable with each other as the minutes ticked by. The tiny bit of alcohol had put Dennis straight to sleep the moment he settled comfortably in the chair, legs twisted up like a pretzel beneath him.
Robby couldn’t help but chuckle at him.
“He probably went straight from the hospital to that shit show,” Jack finished his beer,
“I don’t want to know how many times,” Robby shook his head, “you slept yet?”
“I was looking at the kid thinking it was a pretty good idea,”
“Couch inside is pretty decent. I know from experience,”
“I might leave you to it for a couple of hours,” Jack hauled himself up,
“Try and sleep well.”
Robby knew there was a slim chance of that. Doctors slept with many horrors. Veterans more so. Jack would have more nightmares than Robby, which equalled a lot. He’d keep an ear out to make sure Jack was okay as he dozed through the early afternoon. Robby would keep his eye on Dennis, too. It made him feel useful.
Robby quietly fetched a book and sat back outside on the chairs with Whitaker.
He sidetracked to his iPod. Blaring music out his eardrums like it could somehow drown out everything else.
It was nice, to look over his shoulder and find the quiet company. To watch them sleep. Breathe. It was always so chaotic in the hospital, Robby forgot how beautiful it could be in the calm. To watch people you care about at absolute peace. Resting.
He was glad his getaway had been hijacked.
To witness the beauty of life like this took a tiny bit of the horrors of life off his shoulders. He was questionably fond of both Jack and Whitaker, and being away with them, having the chance to properly care for them. To be the giver Robby really wanted to be- it grew on him quickly.
Robby knew there were good parts of him buried deep down. He’d lost sight of them, but he’d claw them back for these two.
Once upon a time, his Grandmother had raised a boy who would make a good husband. He mourned whoever that was, and by the second, he was determined to get him back. Jack and Whitaker deserved nothing less for every second they spent together, but especially here. Robby would muster whatever they needed.
He closed his eyes as Jack had once instructed him. Thought over the exercises and mantras Jack swore worked- or at least kept him from jumping off the roof.
Robby thought of Jack’s hand on his chest, teaching him. How to breathe slowly. Deeply. To slow his heart and thoughts. It had been easier with Jack talking him through it. Jack’s steady hand holding him, but Robby drifted longer than he had thought so, and he took the win.
An hour down. And he read for another. And for a while, he just stared into space.
It was only when the chair creaked beneath Dennis that Robby’s attention truely caught. The younger man stretching out, revealing skin as he arched his back.
“You look like you needed that sleep,”
“Feels kind of like my childhood out here… the better parts, anyway. Not the menacing older brothers. Sleeping out in nature is something I really miss,” Whitaker stretched,
“It is beautiful out here,”
“Where’s Jack?” Whitaker sat straighter,
“Sleeping on the couch. He’s probably up now you are. He sleeps light, he just elects when he wants to pay attention or not,”
“He can hear us from out here?”
Robby nod, “yeah. I don’t think it’s military habit, I think he’s probably always had very good hearing… it used to be game to try and sneak up on him in early years,”
“Nobody ever got me.”
Jack popping up behind them made Dennis jump almost six feet in the air. He was still sleepy. Not yet used to the up and down that Robby and Jack knew from years of medicine. Dennis’s brain still knew how to shut down properly. Robby hoped it’d stay that way for a while yet to come.
Jack joined them, beers in hand, sitting back in front of the two day shift doctors. Robby had no intention of letting Whitaker move to night shift anymore often than protocol called for.
One beer turned to two. Three. And everything started feeling a lot lighter to Robby.
Dennis had loosened up. Robby wasn’t all that upset that it lead to more of his skin peaking through the open ends of Jack’s jacket he still wore.
Another beer.
Robby was actually laughing. Proper laughs, from the pit of his belly. He felt joy he couldn’t recall having in the past few years. He felt home. Safe. Understood.
He didn’t mind being at the end of these jokes.
“Tell me something I don’t know about Robby,” Dennis shifted, legs tucked up under him, jacket hanging low off his shoulders, belly now on display,
“He’s not a cat with everyone,” Jack grinned,
“Huh?”
“The touching. The brushing up past you-“
“Jack,” a pulse of panic shot through Robby,
“The push and pull around the ED. Like a stress-ball. He doesn’t do that with everyone. Not just on your rotation- he doesn’t do that at all,”
“What are you doing?”
“Acknowledging what we all want,”
“There’s a reason it’s a want, and not a logical thought-“
“We work for logic. We can fuck for want.”
Robby’s cheeks might have burned as hot as Whitaker’s.
He forgot that Jack could do that. Throw you so utterly off your feet it rendered you speechless. Completely at his mercy for the five seconds Jack liked to watch you squirm before he said something else.
Jack was a gentleman. He kept things personal and private, but he did enjoy indulging his desires. Jack had sex with feeling. Robby may never have quite gotten there, but he’d come close enough that he knew connection mattered to Jack.
It was why he didn’t do bars or clubs. Nothing turned him on quite like knowing someone inside out. How to make them tick. Jack lived to pull the object of his desires entirely apart as primal and filthy as possible.
It lit Robby up like a Christmas tree every time. Like a teenager with the tiniest hint of attention. Jack was all or nothing, and when he took you with him, he made you reconsider every boundary. So worked up and turned on you’d do anything to cum, previous limits lost to desperation. Body giving over to Jack however you both pleased.
“Whitaker… come here.”
Well, that was no fair. He wanted to crawl on his knees to the god who demanded it.
Hell, he’d done worse for Jack, with a lot less than this for a reward.
Whitaker’s eyes had blown wide. Hesitation, and curiosity and arousal.
Robby already knew what would win out.
Whitaker pushed to his feet, slinking around the obstacle between them, shyly standing in front of Jack. His hands moved to nervously toy with one another, his breaths growing more obviously laboured.
Jack wrapped a hand behind his knee, gently guiding Whitaker down to straddle his lap. The student surrendering to every soft command Jack lead him with, open to instruction.
Jack kept it slow and gentle, not out to startle Whitaker. Every one of Jack’s touches was careful and intentional, every time. Over his thighs. Across his backside.
Jack’s thumb crept up below his jacket, settling in the warmth between it and Whitaker’s back. Robby couldn’t see the touches there, but he could see the reactions they earned. Whitaker settling far faster than a young man should in an older man lap.
For a student to their superior.
Robby watched his shoulders drop, arms relax, his weight fall dead against Jack’s hold, no longer making any polite attempts to hold himself more comfortably for Jack. It shifted the jacket, not quite enough for Robby to see everything he wanted, but he was grateful for any inch of skin he saw for the first time.
Whitaker’s shoulders were strong. Robby would like to feel them properly sometime tonight.
“Want a kiss?”
Whitaker nodded.
Jack moved slowly. Robby was mad it wasn’t possible to see both of their faces at the same time. Whitaker's curls were cute at the best of times, but he’d really have liked to see the moment Whitaker truely realised what he was about to get.
Robby had wanted one of those kisses for decades. Some cruel twist of fate always cut him short before ever actually getting Jack. The closest he’d gotten looked exactly like this situation, in fact.
He shifted as his jeans tightened, remembering how he’d himself felt in Jack’s hold. Watching Whitaker before his very eyes get that royal treatment. It was like his own personal fantasy reel. He felt twenty-three with a tape and the house to himself.
Jack kissed Whitaker softly first. Robby watched him back away, and kiss the younger man again a dozen times over, before they both grew braver.
Jack let Whitaker play alongside him a while before he took control, when he knew Whitaker was up for it. When he’d eased into the idea of giving over completely. Robby listened to tongues meeting, and lips, and Jack’s rough hands roaming over Whitaker’s skin.
“Watching, Michael?”
Jack didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t even glance in Robby’s direction. He knew the man was paying attention.
He laid everything into Whitaker’s skin, kisses moving from the students mouth down his jaw, up under his ear where he squirmed. Jack trailed down Whitaker’s neck, pressed into him, pushing Whitaker down almost to a point Robby got glimpses on his face when he turned his head, moaning every time Jack hit a sweet spot.
Fuck, Whitaker was loud.
He fell pliant. On his back in Jack’s arms. Robby could see the ecstasy in his face for all of two seconds before he wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, pulling himself in closer, prompting Jack to draw him back up and out of Robby’s reach.
They kissed again, and Whitaker itched for friction between them without much success. When his frustration turned to a whine, Jack went back to mouthing at his jaw, quickly shifting the little sounds to full blown whimpers and moans.
Did Dennis even know he sounded right now? How loud he was?
The idea that he didn’t even notice was straining Robby’s jeans tighter.
That Whitaker was utterly undone and at home and already so brainless that he couldn’t find the sense to realise he was vocal enough they were lucky to have no neighbours.
God, what that did to Robby.
Watching Dennis chase friction with Jack. Hips rocking with a mind of their own, and fingers curling tightly into Jack’s clothes, trying to pull in even tighter. Robby was glad with his view for this part of the show. It was like a dance. The desperation Dennis squirmed with gave Robby wonderful angles of his butt and tensing bare shoulders.
Whitaker reached down between them to palm himself.
It had been Robby an unfair amount of times. Desperately touching himself to ease some discomfort. In a dingy bathroom, or barely in the front door of his apartment after a night out.
Once, it had even been locked in Jack’s own bathroom, during drinks at his house. There was no way Robby could survive those surprise visitors without getting himself off first.
Jack swatted Whitaker’s hand away, but Robby still heard the familiar sound of a zipper, Whitaker’s hips shifting, and the long, relieved moan that followed. Jack’s touch wasn’t visible to Robby, so instead he alternated between watching the gentle flex of muscle and veins in Jack’s arm, and the full body twitches of Dennis enjoying every stroke.
Robby may never forgive Jack if this ended with him getting himself off in the bathroom the same way. Tonight, he finally got Jack, and Dennis was like the reward for all his years of suffering. His new shining light amongst the dark hell of his life.
“Better, Baby?” Jack asked,
Whitaker nod,
“I got you.”
Jack held Robby’s eyes. Half of what he was whispering in Dennis’s ear he let Robby hear, the other half, Robby’s mind was left to run wild with the possibilities in the silence, and the shiver through Whitaker’s shoulders and down his spine.
He was a squirmy little thing.
In Jack’s hands, that was going to be fun. Jack knew how to find buttons you didn’t know you had. Robby had fallen to pieces in his arms enough times to know. He grinned watching Dennis be tortured the same way. Sweet, innocent Dennis.
Who moaned like a pornstar. Robby really wished he’d heard what Jack just said to him.
He couldn’t sit by and just watch anymore. Every sound Dennis made went straight to his dick, and it wasn’t fair that Jack was having all the fun. Or that Dennis had known for minutes what Jack tasted like, and Robby was yet to learn.
“Put him on the bed.”
Jack’s hand retracted in an instant, a barrage of protests following from Whitaker.
Jack didn’t even strain as he stood. He secured the student tighter on his hips, kissing at the man’s neck again, soothing him as they wandered in through the back door.
Robby would be embarrassed later by the speed he scrambled after them with, barely getting comprehensive words out to direct Jack to the back of the cabin where the bedroom was.
They were both more or less blind, which made Robby feel a little better about the faults. Robby with arousal and Jack with Whitaker’s mouth practically devouring him as stumbled their way down the hall.
Something in Dennis had woken up that refused to be held down. Jack didn’t have the control anymore. Whitaker took every damn thing he wanted without negotiation. He tugged at Jack’s hair in a way that would be painful. That tugged Jack’s head right back for Whitaker to nip at his chin and jaw.
Robby knew full well Jack was loving every second of that agony.
God, he had always craved doing that to Jack.
The bedroom was a little old and stuffy. The way rooms got after being closed for a long time. Jack ripped the last of the jacket off Whitaker’s body, tossing it somewhere to the side before he laid the man down in the centre of the bed.
Robby froze. It was a hell of a show, he intended to enjoy every painful moment of it. Watching Jack’s weight settle over Dennis. To finally properly see their lips meet. Dennis’s face enjoying every second of attention, and every surprise when Jack’s touch moved.
Jack kissed down the centre of his chest, lovingly laying attention into Dennis’s body. Robby recognised that tenderness in Jack.
“I don’t do this with anybody else…”
Jack nuzzled and kissed the lower belly above the waistband of Whitaker’s jeans.
Robby watched how their eyes lock. Loved how it felt, electric even to him across the room. How unguarded Whitaker looked compared to his usual self at the hospital, at Jack’s mercy.
Jack grabbed handfuls of his pants, tugged the fabric, down below Whitaker’s knees as his lips crossed the man’s hip. Jack trailed down to Whitaker’s inner thigh, pressing kisses over soft skin, following the curve of his leg towards Dennis’s knee, lips pressing against the inner corner.
“Don’t do this with anyone else… only Michael.”
It wrecked him when Jack called him by his first name, and the prick knew it too. He always pulled that card when it was convenient to his own cause.
Robby couldn’t only watch anymore.
He couldn’t watch Whitaker have Jack when he had longed for so long to be touched like that.
“Come here.”
Robby’s demand rang clear in the haze of the room. Jack’s head turned first, bottom lips catching against the inner side of Whitaker’s ankle, before he stood, gently setting Whitaker down and walking over to Robby.
His hands settled on Robby’s cheeks, soft, but nails dragged through the messy scruff of Robby’s beard as he smashed their lips together.
There was no build up with Jack like it had been between he and Whitaker. Decades had been their build up. Jack’s tongue was finally in his mouth, and half of their kisses barely landed where they were supposed to, but Robby only cared that he was finally close. That he could feel the same want and arousal in Jack as he felt for the man.
Robby felt up every inch of Jack he could get his fingers on. Solid muscle he’d always admired, hot in a uniform and out. He tugged at Jack’s hair, abusing his new ability to do so.
Jack let him pull. Rough enough it forced their lips apart, that it drew noises out of the other man that Robby intended to swallow. He was grateful for his height, now more than ever before. With Jack’s head pulled back, Robby got the upper hand on a kiss or two.
Already, he had lost all boundary and sense of limit. Robby wanted to exchange every ounce of saliva he could with the man. Gross as it was, he wanted to merge in every way possible. Consume Jack entirely. Robby’s usual tact was replaced with a need to get everything however it took.
Whatever Jack wanted, Robby would give him.
He let Jack take back control of their kiss. He’d give over to anything Jack took, moving hands back to the strong muscles in Jack’s back.
As far as firsts go, Robby was pretty stoked. Jack’s kisses landed more successful this round, and Robby appreciated the new dance he hoped he’d get to waltz many more times in his life. Jack eagerly wanting him. God he’d give anything to keep that.
Robby unfortunately needed to breathe. Though he’d be more than happy not to if this was his guaranteed final moments, getting his hands on Dennis first was a dying wish. Surely he’d earned that with a good deed somewhere along the line.
Robby broke the kiss.
Jack nipped at his lips, kissing down the side of his jaw, before biting his way back up again. Robby just tilted his head on any direction Jack pushed for.
“Me now.”
Robby’s eyes darted to Whitaker.
Bright eyes wide, glistening with the happy, tipsy buzz he’d gained through the night. Dennis looked at Robby and Jack like they were the whole world. All of the answers and all of the stars in the sky.
Robby had never been look at like that before.
“Yes. You now.”
He finally got his chance to draw his own pretty sounds out of Whitaker. Though it hurt to pull away from Jack, Robby stepped over to the other man, still panting, starting to peel off layers of his own clothing.
He let Jack help. Jacket, then shirt. The button on his pants. Him first, then Jack, not the least bit shy as he striped totally to be the first of them in the room naked, then back to Whitaker. One final layer to pull down before they finally had him bare.
Robby admired the beauty in front of him, wished it was possible to stare at his perfect body and kiss Whitaker’s face off at the same time, but he pushed selfishness aside and gave Dennis what he wanted, even if it meant suffocating himself.
Eager lips welcomed Robby. Jack settled to Whitaker’s left, starting to push and pull as sensitive curves of his body. He laid kisses into his skin beside Robby. That same sweet spot just below Whitaker’s ear, making him moan into Robby’s mouth.
It was a kiss worth waiting for. Burning away slowly, Robby pushing and pulling at the ray of sunshine he never thought he’d have, round the ER. In a bar after shift. When Jack was trying to steal him away for a night shift.
No way in hell was Jack about to get his favourite new doctor-
Robby startled, “Did you hear that?” Robby’s head whipped around the room,
“What?”
“Something’s crawling…”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Dennis looked up at him, “If I catch and kill it, do I get a reward?”
All Robby’s blood ran south, “Yes,”
“After what I’m about to do to you,” Jack nudged Robby out of his way, “Fuck you, Chicken, I’m not waiting any longer,”
“I’m not chicken. I just like to focus,”
“I can help you focus,” a leg wrapped tightly round Robby’s waist, drawing him back closer,
“Yeah, Robby.”
Jack met him in the middle, eyes taunting, Dennis’s leg round his waist pulling tighter, a bolt of friction coursing through him, right to his fingertips.
“I’m sorry, it caught me off guard… punish me,”
“Don’t tempt me,”
“Have you done this before?” Whitaker blurted,
“Worried?” Jack teased, looking back down at the student,
“No,” Dennis said it easily. Honestly, “you just bicker like you’ve been married for thirty years. I’m trying to figure this out,”
“I guess we kind of have been,” Robby gave in,
“You’re in good hands,” Jack assured, “can we get back to this?”
“Please.”
Jack kissed Dennis, then turned his head and pressed up to kiss Robby again.
He wasted no second of it, lapping into Jack’s mouth. It was better than anything he could’ve imaged. Jack’s sharp fingers digging into his backside as he raced to pull Robby’s last layer down.
Robby felt Dennis move too, but he never felt those fingers on his skin. A little peak, and he found Whitaker’s hand travelling down his own body, eyes intently staring at Jack and Robby while they messily made out like drunken virgin teenagers after far too long longing.
Robby grinned at the little whimper from Dennis that told him he’d finally made it home, touching himself as he watched the show.
Dennis was young, and greedy, and Robby honestly didn’t mind if all he ever did was pleasure himself. That was exactly what he deserved. And the idea that he was getting off to Robby, off to watching Jack and Robby together…
Oh the ideas he was bookmarking.
Dennis whimpered, “Michael,”
“Yes,”
“Dr. Robinavitch,”
“Fuck, you say it right,”
“I didn’t know Robinavitch did it for you…” Jack kissed beneath his ear, “when I’m done with you, you’ll be the one too brainless to string it together… Dr. Robinavitch.”
Jack mouthed at his neck for a change, briefly crossing Robby’s shoulder before trailing back up.
It was nice to hear his name in full, proper pronunciation. He liked Robby just fine, but to hear his given names gave him a different sense of safety. Of being seen. Of being cared for. It felt more intimate.
Robby startled at a second pair of lips on the other side of his neck. Dennis mirroring Jack’s every move.
The idea that he’d been studying, and now copying, was cute. Robby couldn’t help but grin as the slightly unsure, obviously less experienced kisses on his skin. Dennis was really trying, and it swirled in the pit of Robby’s stomach, that Dennis wanted so badly to please him.
Fuck four days. Someone would have to kill Robby to take this from him. He’d be lucky if he survived the night without dropping a very inappropriate ‘I love you’ at them both.
He turned his head to kiss Dennis, settling him back into the comforter. Jack followed, all attention back on the younger man. It was his turn first.
“Remember-“
“You and Robby only,”
“Exactly,”
“Forever?”
“Yes, Baby, forever,” Jack pecked his lips,
“You’re our special boy.”
Contrary to the heat of passion, Dennis’s fingers were tender as they thread into the back of each of their hair. Cautious.
“No one else, right? Only me,”
“Only you, Baby,” Robby was going to have to fuck the doubt right out of him,
Jack had already started to kiss his way down Whitaker’s body, “Let me show you how special you are,”
“Read my mind,” Robby joined him.