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Clocking Robby stepping out of Trauma 2—accident victim, stable for now—Jack saw his chance. He intercepted Robby, hand on his shoulder, hustling him back with a curt, "Need you."
A few hurried strides and Jack had him through the door beyond the scrubEx, propelling him into the utility closet. It was four feet across by six feet deep, shelves on the left packet with endless bottles of cleaning supplies, the back shelves holding larger boxed supplies, and hooks on the right for brooms and mops. The whole thing smelled faintly of bleach. But there was enough room to face off, so Jack was taking the win. Besides, it might be good to have Robby in a small enclosed space. Somewhere he couldn't run away.
Robby was bristling as Jack turned back to him after closing the door behind them, doubtless understanding the same and not wanting to be trapped. Well, boo fucking hoo.
"Shoving me in the closet, Jack? Really?" he said, a hard edge living underneath the joke.
And oh, how Jack wanted to follow the hint of implication in that—from Robby of all people, so very straight, so consumed with pursuing women he didn't actually want. Robby had found out Jack went for guys when he'd mentioned Grindr a few months back, but he'd rolled with it and hadn't brought it up since. It'd been a little disappointing, Jack hoping that his persistent attraction was returned...but such was life. So this was a distraction, and a deliberate one, and Jack refused to let it work.
Fuck, if he wasn't tempted, though.
He ignored the shot and pinned Robby with a look. "What's this I hear about nude sunrise yoga?" Jack drawled. "Tell me more about these fantasies you have about me, Robby."
Robby shook his head once, like he didn't know what conversation they were having. Good. "It was a joke," Robby said, tone saying this was obvious. "The kid's miserable living with Santos. I wanted him to feel like he'd be helping me out."
"That just so happened to involve a very specific image of me," Jack pressed.
Robby warmed a little, the lines around his eyes deepening, like he could charm his way out of this. "C'mon, it's funny."
Jack let his lips quirk up. "Well, congrats, brother, you just left that kid with the impression that you're never coming back. Enough that he came to me, fearing your death," he finished, voice lowering on it, the news dropping heavy between them.
Whitaker had looked at Jack with his big, concerned eyes, forcing himself through, I think, maybe, you should talk to Dr. Robby? Like the very idea of telling Jack what to do made him want to stage a strategic retreat. But he'd stood his ground.
Robby settled hands on his hips. It was annoying how he made even that hot, all broad chest and long lines. "It was a joke," he said again, long-suffering.
"That if you never come back, he's got a swinging bachelor pad?" Jack said, mocking a little on the last, still unable to fathom what Robby had been thinking. "I had to explain to him that if you die, he doesn't, actually. He can hand those keys right over to Jake."
"It doesn't go to Jake," Robby said, almost absently, not really looking at him. He seemed to be looking over his ear, past him. Jack remembered that trick from OCS. Never look the drill sergeant in the eyes.
Jack felt the surprise sweep him. "How's that?"
Robby shrugged, like this was no big deal, but his hands came up to rub the back of his neck. One of his tells. "He doesn't want anything from me," he admitted, the two of them still not talking, all news passed through Janey. "If something happens, Janey gets some money for him, but you get the rest. So maybe let the kid take the bachelor pad," he added with a little smile, dropping his hands again.
A tiny explosion went off at the base of Jack's skull, speech deserting him for a stunned breath. When he found his voice again, all he could do was bite out, "Mike, what the fuck." It was one thing for Jack to be his emergency contact, but willing him all his shit was another level.
"Jesus, when did people stop being able to take a joke?" Robby bitched, for all the world like he was disappointed in Jack.
"Forgive me if I don't find the thought of you dying at all funny," Jack said, grim.
"I'm not dying," Robby shot back, a little heat on it. "I updated my shit like a responsible adult. I'm taking the time off everyone recommends. I'm doing a good thing for a kid who doesn't know how to set boundaries. It's everyone else with the problem."
"Yeah, that's definitely how that works."
"Man, what the actual fuck," Robby muttered. "You thought it was good that I get away."
"Because I didn't think you'd actually do it," Jack said. "And it is good; you work too fucking hard. But now you've got the bike and you're making jokes and you did a new will. It paints a picture."
"You're painting that picture. Not me. You're the one who said, 'Make sure you come back.' You went there. Not me. So why you going there, Jack?"
Frustration screamed through Jack that Robby didn't get it. "Brother, I'm worried about you."
Robby's sharp scoff cut through the small room. "If you think I'm a danger to myself, stop being a pussy and 302 me already."
Jack let that challenge settle in the silence between them, staring him down. "Well. Now we're getting somewhere," he said, keeping it mild.
Robby shook his head once. "You've been testing me all day. 'Thought you'd left us already for the open road,'" he drawled, imitating Jack. "'She seems cool.' 'I like her.' 'You really doing this still?' 'Make sure you come back.' What are you looking for, Jack?"
"The reason you're acting like you're walking away from a mess and you don't care who cleans it up," Jack said obviously.
"I don't," Robby said, straight-up. "I've been cleaning up every mess for six years, straight through. I want to walk out that door and let someone else deal with it. It's you who's acting like I'm walking out to my funeral."
Jack shot him a hard look. "If I really thought that, you bet your ass I'd 302 you. And you know what? It'd be the easiest decision I ever made. Simple, clean, clear. All the things you are not."
Robby subsided a little, like the idea that Jack understood him took a weight off. "Then why are you being like this?" he asked, almost sulky.
"I was worried about the senioritis. I'm still worried you won't have a support structure if something happens. And, you know." Jack gestured vaguely to his form. "I'll miss you."
Robby blinked once, like that was the last thing he expected. "...what?"
Jack shot him a duh look. "When you're gone, I'll miss you. You won't be around to watch games with, I won't get to mock your shitty taste in beer—"
"—superior taste in beer," Robby corrected, automatic.
"—truly pedestrian taste in beer," Jack corrected right back.
Robby waved at him. "Ignorant of the complexities of a craft IPA—"
Jack waved right back. "Total lack of shame at being a basic beer bitch—"
"Fuckin' really," Robby challenged, almost like he wanted to laugh.
Jack let his lips curve up, unable to help himself, the flicker of amusement in Robby's dark eyes such a relief, so enticing. "It's gonna suck with you not here, man. So yeah, I want you to come back."
Robby's expression did something complicated, the lines in his forehead creasing as he looked down, almost seeming crestfallen before he shook his head. "...oh."
Weirdly, his skin sort of...flushed? Jack frowned as he studied him, not getting it, even as Robby rubbed his hands over his face. Another one of his tells. "What is happening right now?" Jack asked, slow.
"Nothing," Robby muttered, finally pulling his gaze up, though he didn't meet Jack's eyes, looking over his ear again. His skin was still faintly pink.
"Why are you flushed?" Jack pressed, clocking how Robby still wouldn't look at him.
"I'm not," Robby insisted, jaw setting, like if he declared that, his skin would magically behave.
"Robby," Jack said, the come on in his voice. He couldn't help but think back—Robby making the joke about being in the closet, asking if he liked Al-Hashimi more than him, hugging him, looking at him all day, And miss seeing you in uniform?
Robby stared very calmly over his ear as he said, "I'm not having this conversation with you."
"What conversation?" Jack asked, a goad, marveling as an impossible hope took shape in his mind. Because Robby hadn't known he went for guys until a few months ago...and now all this.
"The conversation I'm not having because I'm leaving tonight," Robby said, like that wasn't entirely circular, a tinge of desperation underneath it all. A man clinging to a cliff.
His very desperation settled something in Jack, like a combination lock finally clicking into place. "Okay. We're not having the conversation." Then he fisted his hand in Robby's scrub top, shoved him back into the shelves behind, and kissed him.
Robby's helpless sound was glorious, his lips soft, moving against Jack's instantly, welcoming. Satisfaction slid through Jack. Robby had been thinking about this, wanting it. Wanting Jack.
Jack cupped his jaw and sank into the kiss, pressing his body into Robby's, broad and strong and radiating heat. Jack kissed him again and again—teasing Robby's mouth with tiny kisses, biting at his bottom lip. When he lapped there, a question in it, Robby turned his head. "Dammit, Jack," he muttered, voice gravelly, eyes on all the bottled cleaning supplies.
"Uh-huh." Jack agreed, chasing his mouth, turning his jaw and pulling him back into a kiss. Their mouths opened this time, everything going hot and wet as they kissed and kissed, trading breath and taste, Robby a long line of heat against Jack's body, soft and solid at the same time. He tasted like a protein bar and stale coffee, the scent of hand sanitizer clinging, and it was still perfect, going straight to Jack's head, floating along on bubbles of want.
After a few more desperate kisses, Robby turned his head again, fully flushed now, red and breathing hard. "I wasn't going to do this. I specifically avoided doing this," he said, like he was making an argument, mad about it, even as his hands gripped at Jack's shoulders and kept him close.
"And why's that?" Jack asked, leaning in to nuzzle at his jaw.
Robby sighed and nudged him back enough to meet his eyes. He pressed a trembling hand to Jack's cheekbone. "Because I could get lost in you," he confessed, something pulled from deep within, a truth he'd been fighting.
Jack had to lean in to kiss him for that, a wild admission of feeling, unobscured by a joke for once. Robby kissed him back eagerly now, a hand sliding up into Jack's hair, mouth lush against his. It made Jack's whole body tingle, sleep seeming unnecessary now, not when he could be doing this instead.
But then Robby pulled out of it again, taking a breath as if trying to steel himself against the worst. "I can't, Jack. I have to go."
Jack stayed close, moving his hand to the nape of Robby's neck, massaging the base of his skull, slow and soothing, watching Robby's eyes flutter closed. "Why are you joking about never coming back?" he asked, low. "Explain it to me."
Robby licked his lips and swallowed. "I don't know if I want to come back," he finally said, his voice hitching on it. He opened his eyes and finally met Jack's gaze. Facing it head-on now.
"To the Pitt?" Jack asked, not understanding the shape of this. He knew Robby was tired, yes. He knew he was traumatized and hurting and avoiding doing the work. He didn't know that Robby might be done.
But Robby confirmed that, nodding a little. "And maybe Pittsburgh."
Jack felt his eyebrows rise, the shock of that echoing through him. Robby was a hometown boy. He'd never thought he might leave leave. "And you were just gonna bail without telling me?" Jack asked, hurt seeping into his words. He instantly cursed himself for it, for putting that on Robby. He didn't need to be emoting all over the place, not when he was trying to understand.
A wild kind of look flashed over Robby's face. "I can't—I don't know if I can do the job anymore. I don't know if I want to. But this," he said, gesturing to the scant inches between them, "this confuses everything. I need to get some distance and figure out what's good for me."
Against his will, Jack felt himself tense, knowing that Robby would feel it, pressed so close to him. He might have pulled back, except having Robby pinned against the back shelves meant he was actually talking for once. And Jack wasn't going to give that up. "Because I'm not good for you?" he asked, keeping any sort of feeling out of his voice. This was about Robby, not him.
Robby winced. "That's not—I didn't mean it like that." He swallowed hard. "You're a good thing. You make all this...bearable. But should it be?" he asked, like that really plagued him. "Should my life be something I have to bear?"
That eased the spiky thing working in Jack's throat. He nodded a little. "I get that," he said, quiet. He brought a hand to Robby's cheek, rubbing his thumb over his soft beard. "You should live the life you want."
Robby closed his eyes, like he was just letting himself feel the simple pleasure of the touch. "I don't know what that is," he confessed, opening his eyes to meet Jack's gaze again, no hiding now. Even just that was intoxicating. "And I can't find it while I'm in the thick of it and you're in front of me and my head's a mess."
"So, Canada," Jack said, because sure, that was the answer.
"For a while."
"And if you don't come back, you're just going to...stay?"
Uncertainty flickered through his eyes. "Haven't gotten that far. The Canadian government would probably have something to say about it. But you know, I get offers every year. A bunch after Pittfest. I could go teach. Train up the next generation. I might even do more good that way."
Jack nodded, hearing his point. He knew all about the offers; he got them, too, especially after Pittfest. There weren't a ton of guys like them and they both had reputations. Employers were always sniffing around, from other hospitals to medical schools. And Robby would be an amazing teacher. Hell, he already was, even amidst the chaos of the ED. If he could really focus on it? He'd be something else.
Jack just never thought Robby would be open to it.
"If you'd left and decided you needed to be done," Jack prompted, gesturing vaguely between them, "you would've never said anything?"
Robby winced. "I'm really messed up."
Jack shot him a bullshit look. "Who isn't?"
"Yeah, but you've been doing the work. I can't drag you down," he argued, like he'd thought about this a lot, self-flagellation thick in his voice.
"Your avoidance is so noble," Jack said, dry.
Robby sighed. "Sure, be a dick when I'm trying do right by you."
"Worry about yourself, man. I got me."
Robby took him in, gaze gone so soft. He pressed careful fingers to the lines of Jack's cheek, rubbing lightly. "I know. I never have to worry about you."
Jack leaned into the touch, Robby's hand big and warm. "I get it, Robby, I do. If you need to go, then go. And if you can't be here, that's okay, too. Just let me know where you land and I'll meet you."
Robby made a strangled sort of noise, his hand falling away. "You can't."
"The hell not?" Jack shot back.
"I can't ask that from you."
"No shit, you were just gonna bail," Jack muttered, kind of pissy about that and not inclined to hide it.
"Jack—"
Jack made a negative noise. "That is a no-go, Robby. I never thought this was an option. If it is? You do not get to take it from me. If I have to hunt you down, I will. You know I'm trained in this stuff, right? This is not theoretical."
Robby stared at him, like he might be the insane one. "Jack, you cannot give up your life to follow me."
"Watch me."
Robby looked at him, unblinking, seeming lost for words. "...no one does that for me," he finally said, a shade helpless. "I'm the disappointment."
"Not to me," Jack said, easy as anything because it was entirely true. "Whatever you want, Robby. The Pitt, somewhere else, whatever. We'll do it together."
Robby's eyes went shiny. He clenched his jaw, nodding tightly. "Okay," he finally said, voice hurting.
Jack eased a soothing hand down his side, leaning in to kiss him again, all reassurance now. When he pulled back, he smiled a little. "So about getting lost in me," he drawled, slipping his hand under Robby's scrub top to press into the sweaty skin of his lower back. He radiated heat, delicious.
Robby groaned. "This is why," he rumbled, voice shaky. "Do not fucking tempt me."
Jack pulled his hand away, going entirely innocent. "Something to come back to," he said as he stepped back.
Robby watched him go, expression dazed, half-turned on, half-frustrated. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, straightening, like he hadn't been getting felt up in a closet. "Looking forward to it."
***
Fin. Feedback is adored.