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When July 1 rolled around, they got a new crop of med students and residents, including an intern, Turner, a kid so uncertain it was like he was put on this Earth to make Whitaker seem confident. Which was put into stark relief by Whitaker himself, starting his intern year and no longer scared of his shadow, like a literal manifestation of man's capacity for growth.
Robby was glad about Whitaker, but the whole thing just made him feel old.
The team welcomed the newbies in typical warm fashion, everyone going above and beyond to help poor Turner. Princess, in the big sister way she had, decided that a little project was in order. She brought a gigantic folding posterboard with rows of pushpins into the breakroom, titled it The Wonder Year, and demanded that everyone bring in a picture of themselves in their first year of work—for whatever their position was—a kind of visual reminder that they were all young once.
Of course everyone jumped at it, delighted to see their coworkers in days gone by. All the ED nurses had pictures up the next day—on Princess' orders, surely—medical assistants, security, and even environmental services following, which was truly adorable. Though the confusion among the residents about how to get actual physical pictures, it's so analog, do they still make those? made Robby feel like he had one foot in the grave.
"Brother, you do have one foot in the grave," Jack said as he pinned up his picture, having arrived early for handoff.
"Gee, thanks," Robby said, distracted by the flash of camo. He couldn't help but lean in, fumbling for his glasses—
At which point Jack's picture resolved into perfect clarity...and Robby kind of wished it hadn't.
Because it was a picture of Jack as a soldier, wearing desert camo pants and one of those tan army t-shirts, a steth draped around his neck. He was leaning against a Humvee in the bright sunshine, sand under his boots, looking off at something in the distance, an unguarded moment. His shirt clung to his sweaty form, Jack all tanned and freckled and ripped.
Robby shot an accusatory glare at him. "Did you pick the hottest picture you could find to make the rest of us feel bad?"
Jack made an interested noise. "Really, Robby? Think I'm hot, do you? Tell me more." The tone was light, but his green eyes were weighty.
Alarm screamed through Robby—that was a danger zone, a no-go zone—so he just glared and brazened his way through it. "You know what I mean. The rest of us are in antiseptic hospitals suffering under fluorescents and here you are, half-naked and flexing in the sunshine."
"Man, if you think that's half-naked, I have some news," Jack drawled, that serious look fading away. Then he went a little wicked. "Where's your baby duckling pic, Dr. Robby?"
"I keep forgetting," he muttered, eyes unerringly drawn back to the picture of Jack, seeming so young and unburdened, for all that it was a picture at war.
"Yeah, well, you gotta bring it in. If I have to flash my baby face, so do you."
He did have a baby face, Robby realized, going unexpectedly fond at the roundness of Jack's cheeks. "It's cute," he said without thinking, smiling over at Jack.
Who seemed almost embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck, vaguely sheepish. "Yeah, yeah. Bring your fucking picture, Robinavitch. I can't be the only 90s relic up here."
"Dana's there, too," he protested, waving to the photo of her, the very epitome of a blonde bombshell.
"Dana is timeless," Jack corrected primly.
"Thank you," Dana drawled from out in central, like this was her due.
Jack shot a sly little grin at her and then looked back to Robby. "You have your mission."
Robby sketched out a mocking salute. "Yes, sir."
Jack just glared, but underneath it was...warm.
***
That warmth stayed with Robby all the way back to his condo, spurring him to dig into his photo albums from New Orleans, marveling at how young he looked. Most of his pictures were group shots, or pictures he'd taken of others, but he found one of him alone—sitting in the middle of doing some procedure, no idea who had taken it or how—so Robby figured that would do.
***
Robby pinned up his picture as soon as he arrived for handoff, before he forgot again.
Jack was instantly at his side, a little mocking. "Well, well, the fearless leader finally joining in on the team building." But his voice faded off as he took in Robby's picture and kind of...stilled.
Something rose up into the silence, a weird tension Robby couldn't understand.
Finally, he broke it. "What?"
Jack huffed out something like a laugh and shook his head. "Man, it's a good thing I didn't know you back then," he muttered, shooting Robby a brief sideways look. It made Robby's skin go hot.
He tensed. "Why?" he asked, kind of insulted. What, Jack didn't think they'd be friends? Was he too prissy-looking or something? Did he unintentionally announce himself an asshole for all the world to see? Was it the gloves?
Jack shot him an obvious look. "I would've been pushing you into supply closets to ravish you. Screw patients, a man has priorities."
Robby froze. His gut rolled, sick with a kind of fluttering, that old nervous excitement, totally beneath him at this stage in his life. But he couldn't help the reaction, his mind reeling, because, well—
There was a world where Jack was attracted to him? What?
Jack looked from the intern picture to Robby again, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. "Jesus, this is like a recipe." He gestured between the picture and Robby, young and old. "It's like twink plus seasoning equals daddy. Fuck," he said, a kind of helpless note to it. Then he walked out, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on Robby's head.
What did that mean?
***
"Something on your mind, Cap?" Dana asked mildly, in that way that meant she knew there was, but would allow him to act like it was new information.
On one hand, he was so fucking glad she was back. On the other...she knew him too damn well.
"Just distracted," he said, shooting her an apologetic look from where he sat before a computer, trying to chart. It was true; he was off his game just the slightest bit, needing people to repeat things to him like he never did. Jack had done the handoff, quick and efficient, not saying another thing about the picture before leaving. But his comment was all Robby could think about.
"Does it have something to do with everyone gossiping about your little twink pic?"
"It's not a—and what do you mean, everyone?" Alarm raced through Robby. He hated it when people gossiped about him. He hated more that he was suddenly desperate to know what they were saying.
Dana ghosted a smile at him. "You didn't know what you were doing, picking that one?"
"Do you think I have tons of pictures of myself from the 90s? Or, hell, even today? It was the first one I found that worked."
Dana raised an eyebrow. "Well, the first one you found made everyone want to climb on top of you, so congrats."
Robby rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "This isn't going to be a thing, is it?"
"The revelation that the chief attending was a total smokeshow? Nah, forgotten by lunch," she drawled in a way that mocked his intelligence.
Robby sighed. Part of him wanted to ask her about what Jack said...but then Dana would know. He suspected she already knew a little too much about the longstanding crush that he'd never had the courage to do anything about. He really didn't need that confirmed.
He just wished he understood what Jack meant.
So Robby did what he did best...he pushed it out of his mind. It was irrelevant. He had lives to save.
***
The problem was...he couldn't stop thinking about it. And it didn't help that the residents were definitely gossiping about the picture, Robby catching them staring at him at odd times, for no reason.
Well. For no reason he wanted to know about. Except for how he kind of did.
But he wasn't thinking about that.
Instead, all he could think about was how Jack had definitely said he found that younger Robby hot. That was pretty clear. He'd never said anything like that before and it was totally messing with him. Robby understood the twink comment—even if he vehemently disagreed with that characterization, he knew some had found him pretty back in the day—he just didn't know what the whole daddy thing meant. How Jack viewed him in the present. Was it just musing about what could have been, had they met when they were younger? Just aesthetic appreciation, like how Robby could acknowledge that Dana was hot without having any desire to go there? Or...was it something else?
Robby felt a foolish, traitorous hope rising and tried to quash it. He didn't know anything. Clearly. He shouldn't get his hopes up.
But he couldn't stop thinking about it.
***
Ellis showed up early for her shift, like she usually did. As the ED Medical Education fellow, she practiced as an attending, but Gloria also kept another attending on with her, which almost always meant Jack. Because Jack didn't play favorites except for how he totally did when it was Ellis, something that made Robby go all fond, so he let them work together as much as the schedule allowed. If Ellis was around, Jack was usually not far behind. Which meant this was Robby's chance.
He caught her by the lockers, thankfully deserted. "Ellis, I need a young person's perspective."
"Shoot," Ellis said, shoving her bag in her locker and closing it, giving him her full attention.
"And possibly a gay perspective?" Robby said, more careful on that. There were probably HR rules about this. He was sure they'd said something about it in the training modules, though of course now it escaped him. He had the sense that it only mattered if it was unwanted.
Ah, hell, if it was a problem, Ellis would say so. She wasn't shy.
In fact, at the moment, she was entirely smug. "Well, you're batting a thousand, old man. Hit me."
"Is it good when someone calls you a daddy?"
Ellis stared at him. Not reacting at all, stone-faced, for a long moment. Then her eyes sparkled. "This is the best day for me."
"Okay," he drawled, ready to disengage and go off to suffer his confusion.
She waved a hand. "No, I'm sorry, you came to me in your hour of need—"
"My hour of need, really?" Robby muttered.
"And I am here for you, boss. Especially because I will be telling this story for the rest of my life."
"Right, this was a bad idea."
"It's absolutely a good thing," she rushed out, stopping Robby from bailing.
He frowned, trying to decide if she was serious. "Really?"
But Ellis seemed entirely genuine as she nodded, her braids swaying in their bun. "The context matters, but it's vaguely sexual slang for a hot older male authority figure. I'm shocked you haven't gotten it before, honestly, given all this," she said, gesturing to his form. Robby must have looked alarmed because she rushed to continue: "In a purely aesthetic sense. I don't swing that way. Obviously."
Robby nodded, getting it. "So if someone calls you that, is it a matter-of-fact descriptor or is there intent behind it?"
Ellis smiled at him like he was an adorable baby animal. "Oh, this is so cute, you don't know if you were getting hit on," she drawled.
Robby huffed a breath and shot her a look.
"Okay, I'm sorry, I've just never been in this position before, I feel all wise and learned." Then she tipped her head. "The answer is it depends. It could go either way depending on how it was said. Did it feel like it had intent to it?"
Robby thought back to it. It had felt more like Jack talking to himself than anything. Or even commenting to the world. He hadn't been putting anything on Robby. "Not really," he finally said, feeling his own hopes dim a little at that.
Ellis seemed to read that. "Sorry," she offered, genuine.
Robby shook it off. Jesus, he didn't need his subordinates knowing anything about his love life. "It's fine. Thanks for the help."
Ellis stayed sympathetic. "Any time."
***
Jack showed up like normal and they did the handoff like normal and everything was completely normal except for how Robby was obsessing about it. He obsessed all the way home and into the shower—where he ignored the twitch in his dick at thoughts of Jack, thank you—and then he obsessed about it all the way into bed, tossing and turning and thinking about it until he fell into an exhausted sleep.
And then he woke up at 4am with a heaviness in his chest because he wanted it. Robby wanted Jack's admiration and his lust and his intent, he wanted Jack to be in this damn bed at this damn moment. Not that he could have any of those things because they weren't like that and Robby had a spectacular record of crashing and burning every time he tried with anyone else.
He wanted it and he couldn't have it and even worse, now he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Fucking Jack.
***
The next day, Robby dragged himself in, tired from too little sleep. He stowed his stuff and went to his usual computer...only to pull up short.
Twinkies were piled in the open space in front of the keyboard. Dozens of them. Just sitting there, waiting for him. They were available from the vending machine—or they used to be; they might have been bought out given all this—so it wasn't like anyone had to make an extraordinary effort for this little prank.
But still.
Robby looked to Dana, who was desperately trying to rein in her amusement. "Really?"
"What can I say? You're all kinds of inspiration."
"Dare I ask who bestows these gifts upon me?" Robby asked, hearing the annoyance in his voice.
"Might be quicker to ask who didn't."
"Oh, that's—that's real great. Thanks."
"Take it as a compliment," she advised, patting him on the shoulder. "You still got it, old man."
Robby hated the warmth that flushed through him at that, what he knew would show on his skin. He'd always blushed way too easily.
Dana laughed, delighted.
He made a frustrated noise. "Isn't this against all the new respectful workplace guidelines? You're not supposed to sexualize your coworkers," he grumbled because he'd had that drilled into him by HR. Over and over again. So much that it had gotten a little insulting, actually.
But then, he was the boss. And he had dated Collins. So.
"That's mostly for men being creepy," Dana said, wildly unconcerned. "But if it really bothers you, I can tell everyone to nix it."
Robby considered that. Underneath the embarrassment...well, it was kind of flattering. And it was nice to feel like part of the group. "Let them have their fun," he allowed.
Dana laughed. "See, that's what I thought," she teased.
Which was when Jack appeared, Robby's heart doing a humiliating little flutter at sight of him. Jack looked from Robby's flushed face to the pile of twinkies and back again—
And laughed.
"Okay, very funny," Robby groused.
"Hey, it wasn't me," Jack said, the lines around his mouth crinkling in delight. He reached over and snagged a twinkie, actually opening it.
"Man, that shit'll kill you," Robby warned.
"I'll risk it." Jack held Robby's eyes as he took a pointed bite of the twinkie.
Unbidden, heat slid through Robby. That...should not be hot. Or suggestive. And yet, Jack licking the cream from the corner of his mouth was undeniably suggestive. Robby was probably beet red and he couldn't stop staring and fuck.
Fucking Jack.
Robby cast around wildly for something to say; he couldn't stand here staring like a lovesick fool. "This day is off to a great start," he said, running his hands over his face.
Jack grinned again. "Only up from here," he said, toasting with his twinkie, and it was such a brazen lie that Robby had to laugh.
***
Robby dumped all the twinkies in the breakroom—as they deserved—so for the rest of the day, he had doctors and nurses wandering by while chowing down and smirking at him like he had been the one to start any of this.
Somehow he'd lost control of his own ED and he didn't like it. Not even a little bit.
***
"How you doing with your distraction?" Dana asked, leaning against the counter and eyeing him, knowing.
Robby was charting, his shift over, having already handed off to Jack, one of those horrible scheduling confluences where they were just back-to-back for four in a row. But he thought he'd been handling all the...feelings in a low-key kind of way. Apparently not.
"It's weird to suddenly be the it-boy, not because of you, but because of who you used to be," he said with a sigh. Because Jack's comment still rattled around in his brain every time he got a look from one of the nurses or residents—Robby reminded of the possibility of that younger Jack wanting the young man Robby had been. There was a kind of ache in it, still. What could have been.
"Don't think it's just who you used to be," she said carefully, like she knew something.
Robby just scoffed. "Right."
Dana tipped her head, a few blond strands escaping her ponytail this late in the day. "There may have been some whispers about you getting called a daddy. I got two girls. I know what that means."
Robby looked at her askance, his heart rate ticking up. "I don't."
Now Dana just looked exasperated. "It means you're wanted, you big lug."
"Bullshit," Robby shot back, his heart still going, that vaguely sick feeling back in his gut.
Dana raised a cutting eyebrow. "No one goes on and on about someone's hotness if there isn't something there." So clearly Dana knew everything; hell, maybe she'd been listening at the damn door, what the hell did he know?
"It wasn't...like that," he finished, kind of pathetically. But it wasn't.
"Well, if it's running through your mind like a hamster on a little wheel, you should raise it. To stop the hamster, if nothing else."
"Raise it?" Robby asked, incredulous. As if he could just turn to Jack after handoff and say, By the way, I've had a pathetic crush on you for years, thoughts?
No. Just no.
Dana leaned in and pinned him with a look, her blue gaze unwavering. "Robby, I'm gonna tell you what I tell my girls: sometimes you gotta say what you want. Otherwise, how's anyone supposed to know?"
And Robby had nothing to say to that.
***
Dana's words followed Robby home, into another night of shitty sleep, the idea plaguing him. She said it like it was so simple, like there wasn't so much riding on it—risking the closeness he and Jack shared, the only sense of stability he had in his life, aside from Dana herself. And for what? Even if Jack did want him, Robby would just fuck it up. That was his goddamn specialty. It was better just to leave it.
It was.
***
Robby arrived to the ED in the midst of its usual managed chaos, nothing out of the ordinary. He found Ellis standing before The Wonder Year board, casually eating a twinkie.
He joined her with a nod. "Ellis."
"Hey, boss." She took another bite of twinkie, and from her it was not suggestive, so really, it was all Jack. Robby felt vaguely vindicated in that. He shot a quick glance at the board—
And froze. "What the fuck?"
His intern picture was missing. The space where it used to be empty, its pushpin all sad and lonely.
"We got a thief in this here ED," Ellis said, amused, popping the rest of the twinkie in her mouth—
And then she pinned the empty wrapper right where his picture used to be.
Robby glared at her. "Really?"
"People won't even know the difference," she quipped.
***
The mystery of his missing picture remained unsolved, everyone protesting innocence, Jack actually laughing at the news. "That's what you get for setting out some temptation," he drawled, like he didn't even know the concept of sympathy. No, he was entertained by Robby's pain.
Robby huffed at him. "You wouldn't say that if someone stole your picture to use as jerkoff material."
"Brother, if someone wants to jerk off to my picture, they are welcome to it. Honored to bring a little more pleasure into the world." Then he considered. "Wait, why aren't people jerking off to my picture? I'm kind of offended right now."
"There is something wrong with you, you know that, right?"
Jack just grinned, all shiny and bright. "I got the therapy bills to prove it."
***
Robby stared at Jack's picture, brain beyond tired. He'd already handed off to Ellis, here early as usual, and he really should be charting. Except he'd gone to get coffee and had gotten drawn in by Jack's picture again, looking so young and full of life. It was back before he'd lost his leg, his wife. Jack was probably a completely different person these days. And yet Robby wanted to know this one, to go back there and let himself get ravished. Everything might be different.
The clap on his shoulder made him jump, Robby looking over, already knowing who it would be, the only person who'd ever touch him so. Jack smirked at him, leaning in, voice teasing as he said, "Mooning over my masculine perfection?"
"It's really annoying," Robby said, only realizing that it might be an admission after the fact.
But Jack just grinned. "A lot of it is dehydration. Do not recommend."
Robby hmmed, looking back to the picture. Jack didn't look dehydrated. Just hot. Robby's fingers itched. "I would've let you, you know," he said before he really thought about it. Maybe something of Dana's words still hanging around.
The hand on his shoulder gripped. "Let me what?" Jack asked, voice gone careful.
Robby looked over, figuring he'd already gone there, might as well. "Ravish me."
Jack stared at him, green eyes wide and startled, like he hadn't expected that at all. Then his eyes narrowed—
He used the grip on Robby's shoulder to propel him out of the breakroom, biting out, "Dr. Robby and I need to have a private chat," as they passed central.
"What?" Robby asked, mind whirling. Okay, sure, maybe he shouldn't have brought it up at work—unwanted, his mind whispered—but he didn't expect Jack to get pissed about it, manhandling him down the hall.
And then Jack was pushing Robby into the on-call room—a sad rectangular box, windowless and featureless, with only a plain cot and lone chair to its name—closing the door behind them and pushing Robby back into it. Robby huffed a breath out at all the jostling, his hackles rising. Jack didn't need to be a dick about it. "What the fuck—"
The kiss cut him off, Jack's mouth hot and insistent, one hand in his beard, holding him in place.
...oh.
Robby sagged into the door and made a helpless soft kind of noise as he gave up all dignity and kissed him back. Jack sank against him, his body heavy in the best kind of way, pressing Robby into the door as he tilted his head and opened his mouth, the kiss going heated, sudden lust rushing through him, mind buzzing at going from a fight to...this. Their tongues tangled, Jack tasting like the energy drinks he liked, the start of a long night. Robby probably tasted like old coffee, but Jack didn't seem to mind, fingers pressing to the hinge of Robby's jaw as they kissed, deep and open and wanting.
Jack wanted him. This version of him, even.
Robby turned his head to break the kiss. "Really?" he asked, breathless, taking in Jack's eyes, dark with desire now.
"Obviously," Jack muttered, biting at Robby's bottom lip, sensation sizzling through him, stirring his cock.
"Wasn't obvious to me," Robby said against his mouth.
"Because you can't imagine that anyone who really knows you can want you," he said, matter-of-fact and devastating.
Something squeezed in Robby's throat, no idea what to say to that—
But Jack was kissing him again, soft little kisses, interspersed with more words. "But I do, Robby," he murmured into his mouth. "I know you. I want you. Let me have you."
Robby made some wounded noise and crushed their mouths together, answering with a kiss when words failed, all intentions to leave it be falling away in the face of Jack offering exactly what he'd wanted. Jack moaned a yes kind of thing and kissed back, shifting his body against Robby's, his hip pressing to Robby's cock—
A streak of fire shot through Robby, cock heavy and full and trapped in his cargos. Jack huffed a laugh, his breath fanning over Robby's lips as he pulled back, eyes glassy, lips full from their kisses. He cupped Robby through his pants, making a sexy kind of wanting noise at finding him so very hard from this. Robby banged his head back against the door and let out a desperate, "Fuck."
Jack laughed again, his hands moving to Robby's belt.
"Jack," he half-warned, half-gasped, because they were at work.
"You're off shift," Jack argued, not even pausing as he undid Robby's belt, then moved to his fly, "and Parker can handle things for a minute."
"A minute?" Robby challenged.
Jack laughed. "Protest some more, baby, I totally believe you." He promptly shoved a hand in Robby's boxer briefs, caught his mouth again, and Robby's brain checked out of rationality.
Jack's hand was hot and tight and perfect, Robby grunting into his mouth with every stroke, kind of worried that the minute estimate might not be too far off. But then Jack shifted back, working at his own pants, adjusting them so that he could bring their cocks together and send what little brain function Robby had packing.
All he could do was hold the back of Jack's head while they kissed, and his forearm where he jerked them off, feeling the muscles flexing as Jack worked them perfectly, those steady hands skilled at this, too. When Robby broke off to breathe, he looked down at their cocks pressed together, the sight of it another kind of high, above and beyond the lust rushing through him with every stroke of Jack's hand.
"Do you have any idea what you look like?" Jack rumbled against his temple, voice rough.
Robby looked up at him. "I know I was pretty—"
"Not then, Robby, now, jesus." He took Robby's mouth again, fierce, like he was making a point. Then he pulled back and teased his hand over the head of Robby's cock, slowly, holding eye contact the whole time. "You're all flushed for me, you know that?"
Robby did, feeling the heat in his skin, his orgasm getting close, tingling everywhere. "Jack, I'm—"
"I know." Jack's hand was relentless, the pleasure of it consuming Robby. "I am going to trace exactly how far down this flush goes," Jack drawled, like he was looking forward to it.
"All the way," Robby answered automatically, gasping.
"Good," Jack growled into his mouth, kissing more like breathing against each other. Or maybe from each other, Robby couldn't tell, his whole world lit up, body singing with it, pinned in place by Jack's heavy weight, by his eyes, as he methodically stripped them, so close to the edge Robby could almost touch it.
"Please, Jack. Fuck, please," he chanted in a breathy kind of whisper, not above begging at this point.
Jack held his eyes and twisted his wrist over his cock as he said, "I'm gonna spend the rest of my life making you come."
And then Robby did, a white wave of bliss that roared in his ears, pleasure rushing out, shuddering through him.
"Just like that," Jack muttered, hand working him beautifully, cupping his other hand over them so he didn't get come everywhere. Jack's rhythm went jerky as his own orgasm took him, his head going to Robby's shoulder. "Fuck, Robby," he breathed, helpless, biting at his collarbone as he came, trembling.
Robby gasped at Jack's hand still working them both. He was oversensitive now, the touch too much even as it was all he wanted. "Jack," he whined, a protest.
Breathing hard, Jack released his cock, but he didn't move away, forehead still buried in Robby's shoulder. Robby massaged the muscles at the back of his neck, soothing, as they both breathed through it, bodies coming down from the high.
Eventually Jack lifted his head and met Robby's eyes, his expression sex drunk and gorgeous. Robby couldn't help himself; he leaned in to kiss him. Jack instantly kissed back, mouth soft and lush. Robby wondered if that was how he got after he came.
He could find out now.
After long moments, Jack sighed and pulled back, looking down to his hand, covered in come. He made a face and headed for the box of tissues discarded on the floor—bless whoever left that in here—taking a couple and cleaning himself up. As he did that, Robby put himself back together, doing up his pants, his belt.
Jack finished wiping his hand, then looked over at Robby, one corner of his mouth curling up. "You should stay in here for a minute. Take a sex nap," he drawled as he returned, fixing his own cargos.
Robby frowned. "I never sleep here."
"You also never come all over my fist and lemme tell ya, you go out there right now, people will forget about your twink pic real quick," Jack drawled, something entirely satisfied in it.
Robby felt his skin flush even more, Jack's smug look deepening into an actual smile. "Fine. But I expect my twink pic back."
Jack huffed an appreciative laugh, like he enjoyed Robby. "You know me too well." He reached down for one of his side pockets—
And came up with the picture, totally unrepentant.
"You kept it on you?" Robby asked, grabbing it.
"Just in case," Jack drawled, like there might actually be emergency situations where this picture was required.
"Something seriously wrong with you," Robby repeated, exasperated.
"Sure, but now you get the benefit, so can you really complain?"
Robby snorted at the lightness within him, the happiness so plain to see now...and then he went softer. "I never thought this was possible, so no, Jack. You won't hear me complain."
Jack stepped in to kiss him, slower, fingers brushing over the soft place beneath Robby's ear, a soothing sort of touch. Then he pulled back to regard Robby. "We're gonna talk about this shocking lack of vision. But later. When we have a bed and nothing but time."
Robby shivered at the dark purr in it, the promise of pleasures untold. "Looking forward to it."
***
Fin. Feedback is adored.