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Dana shot him a meaningful look. "She up and says to me that Robby can't stand to be alone, has got the TV on in his bedroom all night."
Jack scoffed. "No, he doesn't."
Dana stilled, her blue eyes locking onto his. And just like that, it went from an idle comment to a moment. A moment that expanded, curling into something weighty, settling leaden in Jack's gut. "That right?" she muttered, and there was a whole epic journey packed into those two words, going from how would you know all the way to how did I not know.
Fuck.
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16 Feb 2026
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Jack grabs his gear bag and limps over, gait even but unmistakable. “Morning,” He calls.
The man looks up. His eyes are brown, warm but wary. He wipes his hands again, like he’s stalling for time. “You the lead bullfighter?”
“That’s me.”
“Dr. Robinavitch,” The man says, offering a hand. His grip is big, firm, and careful in a way that tells Jack he knows how to use his size. “Vet for the stock. Call me Robby.”
(Two cowboys: a vet and a vet, fall in love).
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07 Feb 2026
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Jack flashed a grin, but didn't let himself get distracted. "Fun message I got today. It seems that someone rode his midlife crisis to work while conspicuously not wearing a helmet."
Underneath his hand, Robby stilled, his heart beating faster than normal. "What?" he asked, but that was a stall, Robby playing for time to decide on his approach. Which was cute, really, but Jack knew all his tricks.
So he just nodded, mocking. "Yeah. See the thing is, when you do shit, I hear about it."
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18 Jan 2026
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Darnell nodded, glancing over Robby like he was trying to place him in the hierarchy of important to ignorable and it could go either way. "What's this?"
"MSF FNG," Jack shot back. Whatever that meant, he sounded amused.
Darnell scoffed and looked to Robby, expression going decidedly unimpressed. "Oh, yeah? You here to find yourself? Have an adventure? Do something hard?" he asked, each question more mocking than the last.
And there was that question again, like it was haunting Robby. He stifled his instinct to bite back and kept it simple: "I'm here to help."
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05 Jan 2026
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“I appreciate you sharing that with me,” Robby slowly says, picking his words with care. “Objectively, and with love, that’s the saddest defense of therapy I’ve ever heard.”
“It worked. How about I buy you a drink after each session? The bar’s close to the therapist’s office.”
“You’ve got better things to do on your day off.”
“Not really,” Abbot says, and he smiles at Robby’s surprise. “The nachos aren’t half bad.”
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After months of ducking and digging in heels, Robby finally starts seeing a therapist. Abbot's therapist. It's inadvisable, sure, but it seems to be working. At least, until their deepening relationship dredges up feelings which Abbot thought had died with his husband.Bookmarked by SimplyFandom_Trash
02 Jan 2026