Archive of Our Own

1997

It's a ballsy move, sliding the napkin across the table like that. Jack is younger, but already more fearless than he is. Maybe it's to do with their upbringings, maybe it was just the amount of alcohol downed that evening. Either way, there's a lightness, a thrill of excitement in his chest when he accepts the napkin, folds it in half and sticks it in his pocket.

He doesn't know if it means anything. He doesn't know if Jack expects him to call.

But he can't stop thinking about Jack. His eyes that feel like they see right into his depths, that look older than his years. His arms, that Robby imagines holding him down, lifting him up and wrapping around his waist. Those lips, that Robby's eyes flicked down and stared at greedily when Jack wasn't paying attention.

He finally calls when the memories of Jack begin to blur.

"I wasn't sure you'd call," Jack says after Robby stumbles through a greeting.

"Holy Fuck, Robby, is that you?" Jack swipes the photo off the coffee table the minute he spots it.

He's glad Robby finally called, invited him over, just for this photo alone.

"Give me that!" Robby tries to grab it out of Jack's hand, but Jack jumps back out of reach.

Jack stares at the photo.

"Damn."

"It was my first day in the ED, alright? Someone snapped a photo, I thought my Grandma would like it."

"You look twelve."

"Funny, can you give it back now?"

Jack holds the photo against his chest and looks over at Robby, his cheeks flushed red.

"Cute, though."

Robby's eyes widen at the compliment, "Yeah?"

Jack grins. It's a dangerous game he's playing, but he can't help himself, not with Robby standing there looking like that.

He hands the photo back, but the memory of it is seared into his brain.

1998

Jack is the one who suggests the leaving drinks.

"C'mon, you're moving a thousand miles away, I'm not leaving here any time soon, I don't know where the army is going to send me afterwards, we'll never see each other again."

It's a little dramatic, but Robby feels it too. There are phones, and they can write letters, but Robby is going to get busy with his residency in Pittsburgh, and Jack is still in med school, paid for by the US Army. They'll be collecting on their investment. The chances of them meeting again anytime soon are slim.

This could be it, his final chance.

The nerves make his knee twitch under the table as they drink their beers and reminisce. It's dark enough that no one sees the way Jack slides his hand across Robby's knee to calm him.

"When do you leave?" Jack asks softly, his thumb swiping over the denim slowly.

"Monday, first thing," Robby answers, suddenly all too aware of the warm hand on his knee, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife.

He wants Jack more than he's ever wanted anything.

"That's a whole…sixty hours away," Jack notes.

His voice is rough, affected. Robby is glad he's not the only one.

"You got plans between now and then?"

With his eyes on Jack, Robby shakes his head slowly.

"Well okay then…let's go, shall we?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Robby downs the last of his beer in a couple of mouthfuls.

It's strange being back in Pittsburgh after so long away, and yet it feels like putting on a pair of old boots, perfectly worn to the shape of his feet. Some things have changed since he finished undergrad and med school, and some things haven't changed in the slightest.

He finds an apartment close enough to the hospital that he can walk there. It's barely a one-bedroom, with a curtain dividing the livingroom from the bedroom, but it's cheap enough, and the neighbours seem nice. It's also just a short bus ride to his grandmother's house so he can check on her as much as his residency allows. She's struggling with stairs now and doesn't leave the house much. Every time he visits, she tries to get him to move in with her, and he's tempted, if only to keep a closer eye on her.

His first day as a resident doctor is tough, but everyone seems nice, including Dr Adamson, a warm Black man with a strong handshake who seems genuinely interested in supporting him. He also finds a smoking buddy in a nurse, a few years older than him, Dana. He likes how sarcastic she is and how she seems to know every single person in the hospital, like she's been there forever.

As much as he's enjoying being back in Pittsburgh and feeling excited by the start of his residency, he can't ignore the feeling of missing New Orleans and what he left behind there.

1999

"I'm not taking no for an answer."

Jack glares at Harrison, one of the few other med students he hangs out with regularly.

"It's the Millennium, Jack, you can't miss that."

"Watch me," Jack folds his arms across his chest stubbornly.

"Look," Harrison drops down onto the chair opposite and pushes the flyer across the table, "It'll be fun, we drink, we dance, we meet some hot girls, we ring in a new millennium, what's the worst that could happen?"

"I just don't know if I'm in the mood."

"That's what the alcohol is for, my friend."

Jack huffs.

"This is what we both need. The year has sucked, I passed by the skin of my teeth, you've been in a weird funk for months," Jack opens his mouth to argue, but Harrison gets there first, "Don't argue with me, you have."

Jack sags back in his chair in defeat.

"We start 2000 fresh, new us. And hopefully we also start the year getting laid, God knows you need it."

"I don't-" Jack tries, but Harrison shuts him down once more.

"You do…whoever you've been thinking about, leave them in 1999. Find yourself someone new."

Maybe Harrison is right, Jack thinks, looking down at the flyer. Robby is a thousand miles away. The regular calls are nice, but there's no future there, not now, maybe not ever. He needs to move on. It was only one night.

"Okay," he gives in, "Let's go."

2000

Robby winces when he opens his latest phone bill. He's still a resident, still not making the big bucks. Thanks to his regular phonecalls with Jack, his bill has skyrocketed.

Their relationship has changed since moving to Pittsburgh. With the physical distance and Jack's military career in the way, their one night together was quietly put to one side and in its place was a friendship that Robby has started to treasure.

Every Friday night, Robby cracks open a beer, squeezes himself into the window seat in his apartment, the phone cord just about stretching that far, and rings Jack.

Jack always picks up on the first ring, like he's been waiting for the call.

For two, sometimes three hours, they talk about everything. Robby shares stories from his shifts at PTMC. He tells Jack they call the place 'The Pitt', recounts gossip that Dana tells him over cigarette breaks, and shares anonymised medical cases in great detail like he's delivering a medical paper.

"Might come in handy, you never know," Robby explains.

Jack, meanwhile, complains about whatever rotation he's on that isn't emergency medicine, updates Robby on the latest goings on in New Orleans and sometimes, if Jack is on his second or third beer already, he'll admit how scared he is about it all. About choosing the military, about what that might mean in the future.

"I know being a doctor will mean one day I'll be responsible for someone's death….the thought that being in the army means that I might also have to take a life one day, that's what keeps me up at night," he admits quietly.

Robby listens. There aren't any words that'll help, not with this.

They keep meaning to meet up. There are promises to look at diaries, to schedule time off, but they're both too busy. Soon, they both say.

2001

The message is passed to him in between traumas by one of the temp nurses covering a bout of flu that's going around.

He ignores the extra message from Dana at the bottom and rereads the message meant for him.

He doesn't know why his stomach tightens as he reads it. It's none of his business who Jack dates. They're friends, nothing more.

Even if there was more between them, they live hours away from each other, and there's that pesky little 'Don't ask, don't tell' to contend with. It's not safe for Jack to be out, so what's the point in even thinking about it?

He crumples the message up and drops it into the trash.

Maybe he'll go out on Friday instead, find himself someone to bring home so he can forget all about Jack smiling across a table in some dimly lit Italian restaurant with whoever he's with.

It probably won't last anyway.

2002

The invite arrives in a thick cream envelope, his name and address handwritten. He'd been expecting it ever since finally meeting Sarah face to face just before Christmas. He'd seen how they were together, how perfectly matched they were.

And then Jack called with the news. He'd proposed, Sarah had said yes.

Jack hadn't come out and say it outright, but Robby knows there's another reason for the sudden proposal. The world is different from what it was just a couple of years ago. Jack is inching closer to finishing his second year of residency, and Robby has to wonder if Jack's already thinking about being deployed. They say the war in the Middle East will end soon, but he feels like it's only just beginning.

Jack's always been a practical person. He wants to make sure Sarah is taken care of while he's away. Wants to rest easy knowing that she will be taken care of if anything happens to him.

He stares at it for a long time, trying to understand his own emotions in the face of it. Jack hasn't been his for a long time and yet there's a bitter taste in his mouth.

Thankfully, Jack has asked one of his army buddies to be his best man. Maybe because he knew Sarah would be angry if she ever discovered Jack and his best man had slept together many moons ago and never told her.

He thinks about what it would be like to attend. To sit in a chair and watch Jack marry the love of his life, see the way he looks at her, and watch them kiss.

He's not sure he could do it. Jack would see right through his forced smile.

In the end, he blames work. Even though it's still a few months away, he won't be able to get the time off like he thought he would. Jack seems to understand, or at least he doesn't question it. He's sad, though, Robby can hear it in his voice. ..

"You really can't make it?"

Robby grits his teeth, feels the guilt swirl around in his stomach like he's eaten something bad.

"Adamson can't spare me," he lies. "I'm sorry."

Robby hates himself.

He works the day of the wedding, lets each ambulance that pulls up distract him from what was happening a thousand miles south.

As he writes the thank-you card, Jack stares at the casserole dish on the open shelf. It's simple, but a good make, probably cost Robby a hundred bucks. Sarah's been saving recipes she finds in magazines to make good use of it.

All Jack thinks when he looks at it is that Robby was missing from his wedding.

The lack of Robby didn't ruin the day. Jack hasn't smiled that much in God knows how long. From the moment he was told he could kiss the bride, Jack hasn't been able to stop smiling like an idiot. Looking back at the photos, he sees how happy he was, how perfect the day was, but he still feels sad that one of his best friends couldn't make it.

The more he thinks about it and the more that he stares at that fucking casserole dish, the more confused he feels. Jack would move heaven and earth to be where Robby needs him, he thought Robby felt the same. It didn't feel like he even tried to make the time.

He doesn't want to believe that Robby didn't want to come. He can't believe that after all this time, Robby still has feelings for him. What they had was special, but fleeting. He had to move on. He thought Robby had too.

He makes light of Robby's absence in the card, if only to try and gauge Robby's thoughts about the whole thing and adds in a final, subtle reminder that it's been far too long since they saw each other in person.

2003

He celebrates finishing his residency with a much-needed night out with some colleagues. It's been a long, tough five years. He's not sure if he would have made it through if it weren't for Adamson. He's made mistakes, he's grown, become someone his Grandmother would have been proud of. He feels for the first time like he's a good doctor. This is what he was meant to do; he can feel it in his bones.

He gets dragged into doing shots at the bar before he's pulled onto the dancefloor. He's not the best dancer, but the alcohol coursing through his system means he doesn't particularly care what he looks like.

He can let loose tonight. He doesn't have to worry about what's next. There's a letter on his kitchen table at home, an offer of an attending position at PTMC. It's his if he wants it, and he wants it.

It's slightly terrifying, being the one responsible all of a sudden, but there are people who believe in him, and if they can, he can believe in himself.

He wakes up the next morning hungover but happy. His bed is empty, but that's okay. He just wishes he could have celebrated with Jack.

Robby's stomach sinks when the message comes through. He's at work, grabbing his fourth coffee of the day, when his phone beeps in his pocket.

They both knew there was a chance Jack could be deployed before his residency finished with the army now fighting in two countries.

His hand shakes as he types out a response.

When?

Jack doesn't answer immediately, and Robby has to return to work distracted. His response arrives as he's leaving the hospital.

I don't know, soon.

Robby doesn't know what else to say. There's nothing he can say.

I'm worried…about Sarah. She isn't taking it well.

Fuck.

I know it's a lot to ask, but will you check in with her? I'll rest easy knowing you're looking out for her.

Robby stares at the message for a long time. While he couldn't quite bring himself to go to Jack's wedding, he has come to terms with the fact that Jack moved on. He likes Sarah. He thinks she's probably good for Jack. Still, Jack never asks for anything, and he's asking for this.

Of course, I will.

2004

Afghanistan is hot and dry, and the dirt gets fucking everywhere. The hours are long and hard, the injuries bloody and severe and unrelenting.

And yet, Jack loves it.

He misses home like crazy, misses Sarah more than he thought he would, but out here, he truly understands what he was put on this earth to do. A lot of people freeze in a crisis, but when the adrenaline is pumping is when Jack feels the most clear-headed. His hands are steady, his movements fast and exact. Each life he saves energises him. And he's damn good at it.

Wherever possible, he volunteers for the life flights, flying into danger to rescue injured personnel, bullets whizzing past his head as he wraps tourniquets around legs and pushes gauze into open wounds.

When he's back at his bunk, after a phonecall with Sarah, he thinks about Robby. Wonders what injuries he came across today. Is he just as satisfied with his vocation as Jack is? Does he lie in his bed, knowing he saved lives, made a difference?

He sleeps like a log, gets up, and does it all over again the next day. There's a long deployment still ahead of him, but he's ready for whatever comes his way.

His life changes in an instant.

There's a flash, a boom and pain. He doesn't remember being dragged to a helicopter, the flight to Craig Joint Theater Hospital or the surgery that followed.

He wakes up a day later, dosed up on pain medication and too out of it to notice the space where his leg once was.

He's only vaguely aware of being transported out of Afghanistan, the flight to Landstuhl long, and they kept him mostly sedated for it.

He's in Germany for just under a week. The realisation of what has happened to him sinks in slowly, and he goes through every emotion under the sun during his time there. He's not the only one in a bed with a missing limb, but he feels the most alone he's ever felt.

He's in denial at first, barely able to look down his body and see the bandaged stump. He's angry too, refusing the food they bring him until they threaten to put a feeding tube down his nose. Bargaining and depression follow and by the time he's ready to be transported back to the states, he's nowhere close to acceptance.

It's another long flight back to the US. They take him to Walter Reed, and Sarah's there waiting for him.

How can she want him now?

He convinces one of the nurses to push him to the hospital library while Sarah is back home for a few days. He'd forced a smile and convinced her that he would be fine without her for a little while.

There are a couple of computers set up in the library with internet access, and the nurse pulls the chair away from the desk in order to push his wheelchair underneath it instead.

"You good here?" He asks Jack.

"I won't be long," he promises.

Despite the promise, it takes him far too long to remember how to log in to his email account, his brain still a little rattled three weeks post injury. Once he has a blank email staring back at him, he struggles to put the words together.

He asked Sarah not to tell Robby. He needed to tell his best friend himself. Now that it's time, he doesn't know what to say. There is no gentle way to tell your friend that you were injured in action, missing a leg and have months of rehab ahead of you. In the end, he just asks for what he wants, what he needs.

He asks for Robby.

He returns to the library the next day, and there's a response waiting for him.

I'm on my way.

2005

What now? He wonders as he stares at his dishcharge papers. He's done in the Army; the IED saw to that.

"How about LA?" Sarah suggests gently one night when he admits he's not sure what's next for him. "Might be nice to be closer to my parents, you can finish your rehab, figure out your next steps out there."

It's a sensible idea, and Sarah has talked about living closer to her parents since before he was deployed. She's already sacrificed so much for him; he knows he should do this for her.

"There are plenty of places you can finish your residency at," she adds.

She's pushing hard. The only thing he can think about is how much further away LA is from Pittsburgh. He barely sees Robby as it is. The few days Robby spent with him at Walter Reed flew by. It's a selfish thought, one he doesn't admit to out loud.

"Okay," he says, because he loves his wife and he wants her to be happy, "Let's do it."

He emails Robby about it a few days later, after Sarah has started house hunting.

I'm sure it'll be good for you, all that sunshine will be very healing. Robby replies.

Good for him, maybe. Jack's known Robby long enough to know he's upset by the move. He knows what isn't being said in Robby's message. He puts his feelings in the same box all his complicated feelings towards Robby live and stares at the house listings Sarah has shared with him instead.

2006

One of the med students bullies him into setting up a Facebook account. Robby doesn't really understand why he needs to.

"Alright, now you can find people you know and add them as friends," She says, leaning over his shoulder to move the cursor around the screen. "Pick someone, I'll search, see if they're on here yet"

"Uh," Robby wracks his brain, "Shelly West, went to med school with her."

She types the name into the search bar, and they look at the results together.

"Any of these her?"

Robby shakes his head, "Doesn't look like it."

"Hmm, well, when you do find someone you know, just click the add friend button. It'll send them a request, and if they accept it, you'll get a notification."

"Thanks," He puts a chart in her hand, "Ankle fracture in nine, work her up and report back to one of the senior residents."

As soon as she leaves, Robby returns to the screen. He glances left and right to see if anyone is looking, then types a new name into the search bar.

Jack Abbot.

There are a few Jack Abbots in the search results, from all over the place, but only one looks like the Jack Abbot he knows. He clicks add friend and waits.

Two days later, he's back on the site for god knows what reason when an update appears in his feed.

He smiles.

"Hi Jack," he says to the small square profile picture on the screen.

He likes the post.

Adamson gives him a week, that's all he's able to be spared for. Robby takes it and rushes to the airport as soon as possible.

On Jack's doorstep, Robby wraps his arm around Jack's body tightly and doesn't let go for almost five minutes. Jack is a mess, Robby isn't surprised to discover, and he does what he can to help. He cleans the house, orders in fresh food, and helps with the funeral arrangements.

Jack doesn't sleep much, and he drinks more than Robby would like, but he doesn't say anything. Whatever Jack needs to get him through this, Robby will provide.

He finds the article in the paper while he's waiting at the funeral home to go over some last details, Jack still at home in bed, unable to leave the house. It's three pages deep, at the bottom of the page. The photo of Sarah catches his eye first. She was beautiful, he thinks as his throat tightens.

He didn't love Sarah like Jack did. But he grieves for her too. He grieves for what Jack has lost, grieves for the slightly dimmer light in Jack's eyes. Grieves for what their life together could have been. Kids maybe.

He has to leave right after the funeral. It kills him to go. Jack looks drained, and Robby worries about what too much time alone will do to him.

"I'm going to call you every day, and you better fucking pick up," Robby murmurs into Jack's ear as they hug on the doorstep once more.

Jack grumbles under his breath as he stuffs the appointment card and note into an envelope, aggressively licks the envelope and seals it. He flips the envelope over and scribbles down Robby's address that he knows by heart.

It's been nearly six months since his wife died, and Robby won't leave him alone. At first, it was the daily calls which Jack was able to put a stop to after a month of them. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to stop Robby completely, and alongside the twice-weekly calls, Jack still received almost daily check-in messages and multiple offers to visit.

He gets that Robby cares about him, and right after the funeral, it was good to have someone in his life who he knew would always pick up the phone if he called. Even if it meant calling in the middle of the night, he knew Robby would answer. He appreciates it, he really does, but it's a little too much now.

There has been more than one push by Robby get some therapy.

"You lost your leg and Sarah in quick succession," Robby had reminded him gently. Like he needed the reminder. "It might be worth speaking to someone about it"

Jack had resisted, more than once.

Finally, Robby snapped.

"For fuck's sake, Jack, it's keeping me awake at night, knowing you're across the country and if something were to happen to you, if you felt like you couldn't-" Robby stops and sighs, "I can't be there for you, and I couldn't live with myself if you-"

Jack didn't need to see the look on Robby's face to know how devastated he looked.

With those words on his mind, he makes the appointment. And if Robby wants proof that he's actually going to therapy, he'll prove it to him.

2007

"They spelt your name wrong," Robby says as soon as Jack picks up.

They're long past the point of answering the phone with pleasantries.

"What?"

"That research paper, they spelt your name wrong."

Jack sighs, "Yeah, you know you're not the first person to mention that, right?"

"You going to get it fixed?"

"Why?"

"Because you deserve proper credit."

"That's sweet, really, but I'm fine, very unbothered." There's a pause. "How many times has someone misspelt Robinavitch?"

"Too many fucking times to count, why do you think I introduce myself as Doctor Robby?"

2009

Jack doesn't tell Robby that he was offered a job at PTMC. It's a good salary, flexible hours, Adamson seems nice, but it's not the only offer he's had, and he has to weigh his options carefully.

It isn't in his blood to think through his decisions carefully. He's a gut instinct, fly by the seat of your pants, make-it-up-as-you-go kind of a person. It was Sarah who thought things through and made them talk about it in detail. She made him wait a whole forty-eight hours after he proposed for an answer.

Maybe some of her patience has finally rubbed off on him.

She would have made a pros and cons list, he realises. That's how she made big decisions.

He gets out a pad and a pen.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Robby blurts out as soon as Jack answers his phone.

Jack just laughs. "So Adamson finally told you."

"Sent out an all-staff email," Robby explains, "This is how I find out? You didn't think to tell me yourself?"

"Surprise!"

"Jack."

"Robby."

Robby's grinning like an idiot, "You're moving to Pittsburgh."

"I am."

"This is crazy, I can't believe we're finally going to be working together."

"About time, don't you think?"

Robby shakes his head in disbelief, "This is what you want?" He feels like he needs to ask. It's a big move. What if he regrets it?

"It really is," Jack responds, exhaling softly.

Robby is determined to make sure Jack falls in love with Pittsburgh. He knows Jack isn't moving across the country just for him, but he has to assume he played a large role in the decision, and he doesn't want Jack to regret it.

He chooses Max's for their first outing, emails Jack the link to it on the map so he they can meet there. Considering how they met, he doesn't know why he's so nervous. It's definitely not a date, and yet it's bringing back memories of time spent in bars in New Orleans. He remembers how everything felt exciting and full of possibility back then. He thinks about how Jack's hand on his shoulder sent tingles down his arm. When the music was loud enough, Jack had to lean in close enough that his warm breath tickled Robby's ear. When they stepped out into the cool night air so Robby could get his hit of nicotine, and Jack would just talk about anything to pass the time.

That was so long ago.

So much has happened since. They're not the same Jack and Robby who met over a decade ago.

That's why he's nervous. He doesn't know where they stand exactly. What does it mean to work together now? Without the barrier of a dozen-plus states keeping them apart, what does it mean to be friends with their history?

There's only one way to find out.

Jack finds him at the bar, two bottles of beer in front of him. Robby slides the full one across as Jack fills the empty seat. He takes a couple of deep gulps and wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Liquid courage, he needs it.

"Just like old times," Jack grins at him, holding the bottle out for Robby to clink it.

"Only time will tell," Robby responds quietly, letting the loud music in the bar carry his words away.

2010

Robby must have walked past the notice board in the break room a hundred times before he stops and notices the new addition. He doesn't remember the photo being taken, but someone had printed it off and posted it up for everyone to see.

Whoever took it has added a slip of paper above, the words 'the dream team' scrawled in thick capital letters.

It makes him smile.

After all this time, all these years, they were finally working side by side. Jack is quick and calm under pressure. He hands Robby equipment before he's even had a chance to ask for it. Sometimes it feels like they've been working together since they finished med school.

He realises, as he stares at the photo, that it's the first photo he's ever seen of them together.

After all this time.

He makes a mental note to track down who took the photo and try to get his own copy without it reaching the rumour mill.

2011

He feels silly, but there's no one Robby can talk to about this. Not even Dana.

Dana would absolutely laugh in his face if he told her.

So he turns to Google.

He doesn't know why this is so difficult. Since Jack moved to Pittsburgh, they've only gotten closer. It feels like every week one of them ends up at the other's place for some reason. Sometimes it's just beers and the game, other times it's just about having someone to talk to after a tough shift.

He's known for a while that his feelings for Jack never really went away, but Jack has been looking at him differently, and he wonders, hopes, that maybe Jack feels the same way. It's about time he said something. He can't keep going on like this anymore. Every time Jack stands a little too close, his heart thuds in his chest. Enough is enough.

Google, surprisingly, is unhelpful. There's no script for him to follow. He highly doubts someone out there online has had the exact same experience as him. He'll have to figure this out himself.

Jack is horny, cold and frustrated.

He's not sure why Robby couldn't have thought ahead and made sure there were supplies in the house. He's also not sure why he is the one who had to go out and pick some up.

If he wasn't head over heels for the man, Jack might have gone home, and left Robby with blue balls.

He rushes back to Robby's with the goods purchased, the brown paper bag hugged to his chest, while doing his best to avoid ice patches. The last thing he wants is to end up at the Pitt right now, not with Robby waiting for him, hopefully naked in bed. The thought makes him pick up the pace.

He sticks Robby's key in the lock, the warmth hitting him like a wall as he steps over the threshold.

"What took you so long!" Robby calls from down the hall.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" He lets his coat drop to the floor, locks the door, and heads towards the bedroom.

"You will be," Robby responds with a wink when Jack appears in the doorway. Robby is exactly where Jack hoped he would be, in bed, naked.

Jack shakes his head at the terrible joke. "Why do I like you again?"

Robby grins, "I'm pretty sure you said love earlier."

"Yeah, well, I downgraded you for making me go out in that weather for condoms and lube."

Robby yanks the covers back, giving Jack an eyeful. He curses under his breath.

"Get naked already," Robby orders.

Jack does as he's told.

2012

Robby works on the to-do list at the kitchen table, his coffee still too hot to drink and his toast cooling far too quickly. He hums as he adds another thing to the bottom of the list. He's not keen on letting HR know, only because gossip spreads like wildfire in that damn hospital, and he wants to keep Jack to himself a little longer, but he's already told Adamson, and he'll be on Robby's case about it if he doesn't.

He hears the clack of crutches, and he glances up just as Jack enters the kitchen, his hair damp from a shower.

"Morning," he greets softly.

Jack heads straight in his direction, and once he's close enough, Robby angles his face up to meet Jack's lips for a slow, indulgent kiss.

"Morning," Jack finally replies, the word mumured against Robby's lips.

Robby kicks out the chair next to him, and Jack drops down into it, immediately swiping some of Robby's toast.

"So what's the plan?"

Robby slides the Post-it note over for Jack to check, "How's the packing going?"

"Would be done already, but you came over to help, and we got distracted, remember?" Jack says with a pointed look.

Robby's cheeks flush red at the memory. "I'll leave you to it then."

"You can work on clearing out your closet," Jack taps number five on the to-do list. "You've got clothes in there from when you were in med school, I remember those t-shirts well."

Robby grins at the reminder of how long they've known each other. Thirteen years. Never did he think that a scribbled phone number on a napkin would lead to him living with the man he loves.

"What's that smile for?" Jack asks.

Robby reaches over, slides his hand up Jack's thigh, just because he can.

"Just thinking about old times."

2014