Chapter Text
2026
Jack closes his eyes, wiping his hand down his face before re-reading the text from Dana, which came in an hour after he passed out earlier after his shift.
Robby’s been offered Chief at Hennepin Cty. Let me know if you want me to add a bet to the pool.
His breath comes out on a short gasp as he tries to control his emotions. Chief Attending in a Twin Cities Tier 1 Trauma Center is a big deal. It’s not the Mayo, but it’s certainly a big bump up from Pittsburgh. Robby isn’t really ambitious these days, but with everything he’s been thrown the last year, since COVID really, it makes sense. It makes sense for him to want a fresh start somewhere else. Maybe with someone else.
Not that they’re together. What they have, it’s just blowing off steam. Just two long-time friends who get together and fuck sometimes. When they have the energy. It doesn’t have to mean anything that they have the energy several times a week.
Nodding to himself, as though he’s made some sort of decision, Jack gets out of bed, reaching for the crutches leaning on the bedside table. As he crutches into his bathroom to quickly shower and brush his teeth, he steers his mind through a to-do list for the weekend, thinking maybe he’ll finally get around to hosing down his deck furniture. If he momentarily pauses, toothbrush resting on his back teeth, thinking about the time Robby fucked him slowly on that deck while Jack leaned over the railing, looking up at the stars, it’s only because he remembers they’d spent a couple hours before that sanding and re-staining the deck. It was a good day.
And if he deliberately chooses a burgundy shirt to put on under his scrubs top, it’s probably not because Robby told him how good he thought the color complemented Jack’s eyes that time they went hiking and they got each other off with their hands while Robby pressed Jack up against a tree. He’s just going for something other than his usual black t-shirts.
Dressed and with his prosthetic back on, Jack walks into the kitchen to make himself some coffee and a protein bowl before heading into work. Scanning the fridge, he adds hazelnut creamer to the shopping list hanging on the freezer door. It’s not only because every time Robby has coffee at Jack’s place, he uses that awful, too-sweet creamer and gets a happy little smile on his face, his eyes catching Jack’s as he slightly nods to him in thanks. Jack just likes to be a good host. Taking care of your guests is being a good host. He’s maybe a little uncertain that “taking care of your guests” usually extends to remembering exactly how much pressure to apply to a guest’s prostate to make them immediately come all over your hands, but he's Army. He improvises. He goes with the flow.
By the time he’s out the door, keys and coffee thermos in hand, he’s feeling better about things. Robby will tell him about the job offer after they go through handoff. Jack will paste a celebratory smile on his face and congratulate him. And whatever they have will be over. Which is fine. It doesn't have to mean anything.
***
Robby doesn’t mention anything about Hennepin County Medical Center or about a job offer at all. Jack waits, the protein bowl now a rock at the bottom of his stomach, listening to Robby detail the day shift’s cases of note, explain who is still waiting for CT or test results, list the regular boarders. Expecting maybe Robby will say something once they’re no longer hanging out at central, Jack doesn’t prompt him about it.
Once the handoff is done, and Ellis and Shen are bickering over which cases to run, Jack follows Robby toward the ambulance entrance as Robby zips up his hoodie all the way and pulls his sleeves down, hiding the dark hair on his arms, the tattoos. Jack tears his eyes away from watching Robby’s hands, bringing them back up to a nice collegial level, somewhere near his shoulder.
They walk out into the chilly air. It’s still cold enough that their breath puffs out in small clouds in front of them. Jack resists rubbing his hands along his arms, instead stuffing his hands into his pockets. This also helps with the ever-present need to touch Robby, anywhere on his body, which Jack feels whenever Robby is within arm’s reach. He slows his pace to match Robby’s, who eventually stops, looking back at Jack with a question in his eyes.
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about, Jack?”
Jack is momentarily disoriented. Is Robby just not going to tell him? Is he not going to say something about the job offer at all? It’s not like Robby owes it to Jack to discuss his major life decisions. They’re just friends. Just friends who know each other better than probably any other person alive now. Just friends who know exactly what the other sounds like, tastes like, when they come. It really isn’t that big of a deal. It doesn’t mean anything, anyway.
“Uh, was there anything you wanted to talk about, Robby?”
Robby shakes his head, a look of confusion still on his face. He turns toward something over Jack’s shoulder. Parker has followed them outside.
“Hey boss, you coming? We’ve got an MVC inbound, 3 altered, 1 unrestrained driver.”
Jack glances back at her.
“Yeah, I’m coming, just a sec.”
As he turns back to say something, anything else, to Robby, he see Robby is already heading toward the parking lot. “Good shift, Jack,” he calls over his shoulder.
Jack watches Robby go, noticing that his heart is beating a bit erratically, his breathing harsh and quick. It feels like Robby’s leaving already, like he can’t wait to get away from Jack. Jack turns back toward the sliding doors, back into another night shift of blood and pain. This is the way things go. He loses people. People leave him, forever. He just hoped Robby could be someone who stuck around.
***
Though the sound is on its lowest setting, Jack hears a text notification from Robby come in around 0100. Things are winding down after another multi-car MVC, two alcohol poisonings, and heartbreakingly, a kid tub drowning. Jack is more than ready for the shift to be over, but then, he always finds that losing kids is the worst.
Robby is one of the few contacts on Jack’s phone who can bypass all his Do Not Disturb and Silent settings and Jack had given him a special notification sound years ago. Running the timeline in his head, he figures Robby must have dozed off on his couch after he got home and has only just woken up again. Jack ducks into the staff lounge to pull his phone out of his scrubs pocket, glancing at the notification on his screen.
Hey man, sorry if I was a dick, had a back spasm. You seemed like you needed to talk, come over later?
Ordinarily, Robby wouldn’t go so far as to extend an invitation, the expectation of Jack’s arrival after a shift taken for granted. Jack’s gotten used to the way they’d blended their lives, even if sharing a bed didn’t result in having sex.
Because Jack happens to know Robby’s work schedule, a perfectly reasonable and sensible thing to know about one’s coworker and boss, he knows that Robby is off the next day. He sends a thumbs up back to Robby’s text, putting his phone back into his pocket. Then he quickly pulls his phone back out and sets a reminder to grab some Icy Hot from the pharmacy. Robby had been almost out the last time Jack was at his apartment when Robby was dealing with his back. Might as well replenish his stock so he can get some real sleep.
***
Jack lets himself into Robby’s building, nodding to the guy at the security desk as he heads slowly toward the elevators, his feet sore and his residual limb tingling a little. While he knows Robby would tell him to sleep first, if he asked, he’d rather get this over with sooner than later. Besides, Robby will expect him to come straight over. He knows Jack likes to face things head on.
As he’s waiting for the elevator doors to open, he tries not to think about the drawers full of Robby’s clothes in his dresser, the second toothbrush that’s always sitting on Robby’s bathroom counter, the knee scooter next to the front door that Robby had gotten him the year before, the way that both his cats seem to know when Robby’s about to walk through the garage door.
Getting into the elevator and hitting the button for Robby’s floor, he also tries not to think about how he experiences some of the most recuperative sleep with Robby in his bed, waking refreshed to the warm pressure of Robby’s body behind his back, Robby’s arm curled around Jack’s chest, sometimes close enough to his waist that if Jack pushes up just a little, Robby’s hand will brush his cock, half-hard with morning wood.
The elevator opens and Jack trudges to Robby’s door, full of fatigue and trepidation. He briefly considers knocking, but on trying the doorknob and finding it unlocked, he walks right in. Robby must indeed have expected Jack would be over after his shift. And there he is, standing in his kitchen, opening a cabinet to pull out the mug Jack uses, pouring him a cup of black coffee, sliding the mug over toward him on the counter.
Jack closes the door behind him, dropping his backpack to the ground. He decides against removing his prosthetic, just in case he needs to make a hasty exit. It would be even more humiliating to need to spend the time to strap it back on after being told that Robby was done with him.
So he comes over to the counter, leaning his hip against the edge as he picks up the mug and takes a sip, relishing the pain of the burn as it slides down his throat. Robby clears his throat, his hands in the pockets of his sleep pants, looking expectantly at Jack.
Jack uses the cover of drinking coffee to let his eyes slip over Robby, whose dark hair is still mussed from sleep, the stretched collar of his old Steelers shirt drooping enough for Jack to see his collarbone. Jack remembers when he got that shirt for Robby, maybe 10 years ago. Liz was still alive, Robby dating Janey. He didn’t have any Steelers shirts, not being a big football fan, so Jack got him one as a joke for a playoff game watch party, one of the few times Jack has even seen Robby watch football.
In the years since, Robby has taken to using it as a bed shirt, so the fabric has slowly softened, stretching out around Robby’s body. Jack wore it once, totally by accident, having grabbed from the wrong drawer. He was a little buzzed at the time, as he and Robby were up late drinking to toast a Pens’ loss. It smelled so much like Robby, Jack didn’t have the willpower to change his shirt.
Now he raises his eyes to catch Robby’s, who is still waiting for him to say something. Jack takes a breath and decides to rip off the band aid.
“It’s nothing, really, I just thought you were going to tell me about Minnesota.”
Robby’s eyes widen a little; he’s clearly surprised, his eyes suddenly dancing anywhere but in Jack’s direction.
“I, uh, I’m not sure what you mean. Did someone say something…” his voice trails off softly.
Jack’s known that Robby is a bit squirrelly about heavy stuff. He never talks directly about his own feelings, or anyone else’s, really. He gets uncomfortable when he gets too much attention these days, particularly when someone commends him for how PTMC handled PittFest. When Jack thinks back to their first – well, maybe second – meeting, it’s a little jarring to reconcile Robby’s current reclusive tendencies with his younger self, who was cocky, self-assured, and so ambitious.
But this also confirms for Jack what he’d thought. Robby is freezing him out. He doesn’t want to tell him about the job offer, doesn’t want to invite him into his life. At least not all the way. Jack’s good enough to get off with or hang out with, but not someone Robby wants to build a life with. He nods once, then again, to steel himself.
“Yeah, Dana mentioned it, so.”
Robby makes a strangled kind of sound. “She promised she wasn’t going to say anything,” he says, half under his breath. He pulls a hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his neck, a clear sign that he’s upset.
Jack puts the mug of coffee back on the counter and pushes off, taking a step back toward the door.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. You deserve it and I think it’s a really good move for you. Congratulations.”
Robby does a kind of double-take, his head quickly swiveling so he can look into Jack’s eyes. “What?”
“Ok, you clearly don’t want to talk about it, which is fine. I mean, I thought you’d at least mention the offer, but it’s ok.” He gestures between the two of them. “This is…” His hand drops. He tries again. “We’re just friends, man, it’s fine. You know I’m always going to support you, whatever you choose to do.” He huffs, deciding that his friend duty has been discharged. Time for a retreat.
He turns to leave, terror rising in his chest. His mind skips over memories of the two of them over the years, casual hangouts, alone or with friends, but also silent, meaningful looks. Robby knowing exactly how to dig into the muscles of his residual limb after a long shift. The sound of Robby’s breath against the back of his neck.
He’s so inside of his head that he doesn’t hear Robby moving. He startles a little when Robby wraps a large, warm hand around his arm, tugging on Jack to turn him around again.
“Brother, what is happening right now?”
“I’m just wishing you well, like a good friend does. You’ll rock it, for sure.” He focuses on some of the gray hairs in Robby’s beard, a few more having appeared since the last time he really stopped to look.
“Why do you keep saying it like that, friend? What are you talking about?”
Jack is starting to get frustrated. “I’m talking about Minnesota, man. I’m sorry Dana violated your confidence or whatever, but she told me, and you didn’t, so that feels great, but it’s fine.” Jack shrugs Robby’s hand off. “We’re fine.”
He stoops to pick up his backpack as Robby sighs.
“Jack, you don’t need to go, let’s talk about…”
“Nothing to talk about, man, I said it’s fine. I’m gonna go crash and let you get started with your planning or whatever,” he waves his hand around at the living room and kitchen.
“But I don’t… Jack, please…”
“Look, Mike,” Jack breaks out Robby’s first name on the verge of panic. He rarely uses it, if only to prevent himself from casually saying it at central, or across a patient, in a tone of voice not fit for others’ ears. “You could’ve just said you wanted this to be over. I mean, I’d have gotten the message when you left, but you know, direct communication is appreciated.”
“Ok, now you’re just being an asshole. Jack, stop for a second and listen to me.”
“I’m really not interested in hearing more, thanks. I’m tired and I want to go home. It’s better that we stop this now before anyone gets hurt.” Jack is very proud of himself how his voice definitely does not crack on the last word, finally reaching for the front door and walking through it. He can hear Robby say, “what the fuck” on the other side as he closes the door behind him. Maybe it wasn’t the break-up Robby had planned, but it’s for the best.
Besides, it’s not a break-up. They’re just friends. It doesn’t really mean anything.
It’s only when he gets down to his car that he remembers he still has the Icy Hot from the pharmacy in his bag.