Archive of Our Own

Jack loves Michael. 

It's not a new revelation.
Not anymore. 

Not after Robby showed up to his house on the one year anniversary of his mother's death with a pack of beer and some pizza. Jack took off for the night on Adamson's insistence and had been trying desperately not to think about the hot clay pot in his hand that had been cooled only by the river he had dumped the ashes into or her stiff expression in death. A face he hadn't seen in decades still haunted him.
Just then a knock. 

Michael. 

He had been still in his scrubs and his stupid hoodie. But he had that small crooked smile on his face. And offered him a hug the moment he dropped the two items on the coffee table. He smelled of hand sanitizer and blood. He smelled of home. 

He knew right then.
He loved Michael. And he’s sure he will never stop. Even if it was obvious that his friend didn’t feel the same. 

“Why do you think that?”
“What?”
“That he doesn’t love you. He is your friend is he not?”
“Yes but- a lot has happened. Listen- if you interrupt me then I kind of forget where I was going with my story. I’ll get to it.”
He can almost hear his therapist roll her eyes as she says,
“Forgive me. Go on.”
“Right. So-” 

Loving Michael is easy. Like he is made for it. There’s not a single doubt in his heart- his mind about it. Robby looks at him, that smile curling his lips and his eyes filled with amusement and there his heart goes, skipping beats to a rhythm that spells his name. The sun rises when Michael and his eyes meet and sets when they part ways. 

Even the bite of December’s chilliness seems to be warmer when Michael’s beside him. Food tastes better around Michael. The world slows down around him. He breathes easier. Jack actually feels alive when he feels his presence. 

Michael was the sun. 

And Jack a blackhole.
He hungered and ached and ate everything around him. Jack took and took and took until there was nothing. No light. No warmth. He had been an empty cup, nothing to pour.

And yet. 

There was this love, somewhere in that ever consuming darkness, there was his love for Michael. The singularity holding it all together. 

And in front of Michael, it all spilled out. Time warped and he was back to being who he was. He went back to being a neutron star. Unstable, collapsed, yes, but bright, a lighthouse in the darkness of the universe. For a moment, he existed. 

Sometimes, his heart feels heavy from the weight of it all, this love that he carried. Love that he cannot give away. Love that now has bite marks indented in it. Love that feels like a rat in the maw of a stray dog. Unwilling to let go and yet- guilty for catching it. For killing it. 

“You remind me of a dog sometimes.” Michael had said and Jack turned his head to look at him. They’re at the ambulance bay, smoking. Their fingers brush when the younger attending passes him the lighter and Jack lights up his cigarette. 

“I’m not the one chasing after the new intern.” He teases right back and ignores the way his heart aches. Burns.  

The new first year resident. Collins.
Kind, witty, ambitious, brilliant, challenging. She didn’t shy away from Robby’s light and instead of taking it, she reflected it right back. A beacon in the night. 

If Michael was the Sun, she was the Moon.
He sees why Robby likes her. And that makes it all the more worse.

At least it was just a crush for now. Nothing had happened. Nothing yet.
A mantra that he held close. 

“Oh fuck off. I’m not talking about that.” Michael says with a roll of his eyes,
“I mean it like… you know, a dog. A house dog.”

“Okay. I don’t know if this is some weird form of insult but I feel like I should be offended.”

Robby laughs and Jack doesn't even care if he is making fun of him. It didn’t matter. 

“No, I mean it as a good thing.” He says softly and it’s one of those rare moments where Michael lets himself actually speak not with his mind but with heart.
“You’re a good friend Jack. Loyal, comforting and when I walk into a room and you’re there, it’s like you know I’m there. You’re happy to see me and in turn, it makes me… happy. You just make rooms better. You know, like a dog because they make everything better.”

Jack had laughed then. 

But the words had lingered. 

A dog. 

Maybe he was a dog. Not a house dog. Not a pet, no. A stray.

Jack was a stray dog, circling the heels of a man that fed him. A dog that had chewed off his own leg trying to escape. A dog that was kicked, beaten down and starved.
Whining, waiting for love, for affection. 

But the dirt in his fur, the blood in his teeth and the curve of his claws were far too filthy for that. 

He was not a house dog. He was a stray, waiting, begging to be loved. 

Jack knows it to be true the day Robby says he’s taking Collins out on a date. 

He returns to his house after a shift. Empty, quiet. In his ears echoes the same voice, Robby, full of happiness, excitement. 

I’m taking Heather to the new bar a few blocks down.

He sits on the bed, slowly takes off his prosthetic and then curls into the cold empty sheets. The only sound for the moment is his breathing, the noise of the city outside and the hum of the radiator. 

Then it’s pulled out of him. A whimper. 

His heart hurts. Like someone had pulled it out of his chest and was crushing them in between two palms. And the space in between his ribs feels hollow. He clutches his chest, trying to fill it with his nails digging into his flesh, his bunched up shirt as he curls up tighter. 

Ugly loud wails fill the room, drawn out of him, slow and forced. There are tears but Jack barely feels them fall. All he can feel is the ache in his heart, the breath he can’t quite catch, the voice that strains out of him. 

Jack sobs and wails and cries until there is nothing left. 

He'd gone in the next day, having barely slept with a mug of coffee already in his system. He's sipping the next when Michael shows up. And Collins. 

They give each other that grin. Playful. Like they knew something no one else did.
But he did. He knew. 

And it's only confirmed when he sees a hickey on the base of Robby's neck. 

Jack knew Michael was not his. He has known for a long time and yet, it still feels like betrayal. And for the first time since that day in the ambulance bay, when Robby pats his back, he flinches away. 

“You okay?” The attending looks at him, confused and almost a little hurt.
“Just tired.” He replies, clipped. 

And that’s about how it remains for the rest of the shift. He’s snappy and annoyed and tired. He wants to cry but when he gets a moment of quiet to do so, there’s nothing there. No tears, only the lump in his throat and the weight on his chest. His hurt had warped into anger and all he could do was try not to bite. Robby tries to corner him in the break room, he barrels right past him. Dana asks him about his leg, he dismisses her with a wave of his hand. Even Perlah and Princess give him a wide berth. Adamson gives him that knowing look but says nothing.

“Dr Abbot, are you -”
“I’m fine!” He snaps and turns to see, not Robby but his R2, Shen. His eyes are a bit wide and he steps back with his hands raised. Guilt immediately rises in his chest.
“I was going to ask if you’re free. I needed help with a case.”
“Shit- sorry kid. I’m free. Whatcha got?”

They’re walking over to South 10 when he sees Robby talking with Collins. And he laughs. He laughs and Jack feels the teeth about his heart again. 

He ended up on the roof for the first time.

He doesn’t want to jump. He really doesn't. He just wants to sit there on the railings and watch the sun set and the stars come out. But in the city, the stars were hard to see and the sun set into the buildings, not the horizons. 

The urge to cry had fallen apart somewhere along the way and now all Jack felt was this vague emptiness. Along with the heartbreak now there was guilt. His hurt, which he shouldn’t even be feeling- Michael owed him nothing, was spilling out and he was hurting other people. And that made it all the worse.
He needs to apologize. 

“That’s not the safest place to sit.”

Jack doesn’t turn back. He knew who it was. It was always Michael. Always. Always. 

“Thanks for the information, Mr obvious.” He sighs, his eyes still on the horizon.
“Why are you here Robby?”
Michael shuffles closer, hands on the railing, leaning against it.
“I should ask you that.”
“Killing myself obviously.” His voice drips sarcasm,
“ Don’t. Don’t fucking joke about that.”

There’s a moment of tense silence. 

“A few of us are going to the bar. Princess, Collins, Dana-” Jack doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to hear it. Not when he’d see them there.
“I just need a moment, Michael.”
“A moment for what?”
“To be alone man. Do you know how to do that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I want you to leave me the fuck alone!” 

He all but snarls, turning to look at Robby, his eyes hardened. It already hurt enough and here Robby was smearing salt all over it. But the anger quickly fades when he notices the hurt in Michael’s face. It’s quick but he recognizes it in an instant. Some part of him hopes that this was enough. Enough for Michael to leave.
And yet, 

“I’m not going to go until you’re on the other side.”
“Robby-”
“Scream. Yell. Curse. Whatever man. Get back here first.”
Jack’s turned back to watch the sky again. He can feel Robby’s arms brush along his torso as his hands hold onto the railing. And for a moment, he can fool himself, just a moment that it was him and Michael. And no one else. 

He takes in a deep breath and finally swivels on the railing to turn towards Michael. Then he puts his foot back on the cool concrete of the roof that was inside the railing. He can feel Robby’s eyes on him and for the first time in a while, he can’t bring himself to meet them. He knows he should apologize, he knows he needs to. Michael had only been trying to help. But the words don’t come. 

“Come on, I’ll drop you home.”
“You don’t need-”
“I clearly do. You were at the edge of the roof. Just shut the fuck up and let me walk you home.”

Michael’s voice is harsh and full of anger and Jack’s quiet, first time feeling what it was to be yelled at by the younger man. It stung but then Jack knew he deserved it. 

They walk home in silence and Jack builds up his courage to say something. Anything. But there’s nothing. It’s only when they reach the start of his porch does Jack starts, 

“I’m-”

But he’s quickly interrupted. 

“Save it. I don’t want to hear whatever you have to say. Just.. go to bed. Eat something. We’ll talk about this tomorrow when we’re not running on fumes.” 

With that, Michael’s gone and Jack can only stare as he leaves. 

He stares because what he really wants to do is grab Michael’s arm, fall to his knees and beg him not to leave. That he would be better. That he just needs one more chance. He could do better. He could.
And there’s that lump of tears in his throat again. 

He goes inside. He eats something. And he sleeps like Michael had told him to, the exhaustion of the day quickly pulling him into a deep slumber. 

The next day he’s in The Pitt, having slept for more than 8 hours, an americano in hand for Michael and an apology on his tongue. 

He walks in and there Robby is. He looks tired but he has an amused smile as he listens to Adamson. He wonders if Adamson was once again recounting his case about the man who had drunk over 12 cups of coffee before noon.

As he inches closer, he catches the tail end of the conversation. 

“No wonder he thought he had a heart attack.” Michael says with a chuckle. 

Jack takes a deep breath and gently nudges Michael. He looks down at him and Jack meets his eyes with a small smile before offering him the coffee, a peace offering. Michael takes it.
“Mind if I steal him away?” He asks Adamson who smiles at him,
“He’s all yours.” 

Jack's smile slips slightly at that but he leads Michael towards the on-call room. Thankfully it's empty. 

“I'm sorry.” He blurts out immediately, before he can overthink it to death,
“I shouldn’t have blown up like that.” 

“You shouldn’t have. But you were clearly distressed. It’s fine, Jack.” 

Jack hates it, the forgiveness in Robby’s voice, the easy kindness. He should be angry.
But there’s also a deep sense of relief flowing through him when Robby says it's okay. He was okay.
They were okay. 

“Were you about to-”
“No. No, I meant it when I said I just needed a moment alone. Yesterday was just..” Jack trails off, not knowing what to say. I was jealous and angry that you picked someone else over me? It physically hurts me to think that I’m being left behind again. 

Michael didn't even know he loved him. 

“Too much?”
“Yeah. I didn't sleep well either. Again, I know they're just excuses-” 

“Jack. You don’t need to do that. I was… worried. You haven't acted like that since your first couple of months here. And, seeing you on that roof, it just-” Robby shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee. 

“I’m sorry man.”
“Stop apologizing Jack.” He pauses,
“You ever think about talking with someone? I know Kiara has some resources.”

Jack snorts at that,
“I’ll go when you go.”

“Oh fuck you.” Robby says with a roll of his eyes, his voice holding no heat. He shoves Jack back slightly before he walks out of the room. Jack watches him with fondness that threatens to spill out. But he manages to shove it down. 

For now, he had Michael back. And that was all that mattered. 

Jack learns to bear it. 

The pain of seeing Robby and Collins. But there's only so much he can handle. 

So, when he's asked to go for after work drinks, he always refuses. There's always an excuse ready to go. And while he's nothing but nice with the new resident, he doesn't go out of his way to be too friendly either. He keeps a wide berth and instead focuses on work. 

They still meet up but it’s significantly less than before. And the one time, Jack brings up Collins, Robby shrugs and says,
“I don’t know. We don't know if we want it to be a relationship.”

We.
Jack knew Robby wanted it. That man wanted to give his love to anyone who would take it. And he would keep giving until he runs out. If he could even run out of it.
He was one of the lucky ones who Michael loved, maybe not the way he wanted it but Jack would take what he got. He didn’t have the luxury to be picky. Honestly for Michael, he didn’t want to be. 

Michael could give him the leftovers of all the love he gives away and he’d take it anyway. Not caring for the gaping hole in his chest when Robby is with Collins.

And he has to wonder. Why? 

Why does he feel this way? He’s always known he wouldn’t have Michael. The moment he had started developing a crush he knew this wouldn’t end up a fairy tail dream. The younger man only saw him as a friend and well, Jack knew Michael was too good for him. He would destroy the man like he had done with everything before. 

His love was too much for Michael, too… mangled, too much like a corpse, a rat that he offered like a stray dog to its new owner. 

Michael deserved better. Better than him. 

So he watches as the two grow ever closer and he grits his teeth. And more often than not, he ends up on the roof. And Michael always finds him there. Never on the edge but always on the railing. 

Until one day.
He had worked alone that day, Michael had the weekend off and Adamson had called in sick. So it had been him and the residents only. On top of that his leg had been acting up the entire day, cramping and radiating waves of pain everytime he put a little too much pressure on it. 

Then there was the kid. Chris. The tell-tale sign of abuse was there, the bruises, the much too skinny frame and the broken arm was definitely not from “falling off a tree.” The mother talking with no worry for her child, still drunk and the father, his eyes always glaring at his child. He doesn’t even cry from the pain of his broken arm. 

He prepares to call CPS but before he can, the kid is gone. He had a congenital heart defect that the parents knew about and didn’t tell him and he didn’t think to look and the shove, Jack knows it’s a shove and not a fall- made it fail. 

After the machines are turned off, he turns to say something to his residents, to impart some sort of wisdom but nothing. There’s nothing to say. What could he say?
That he died in peace? What peace? Some part of him is glad the kid’s dead, at least he won’t have to deal with the shit his parents put him through anymore.
He just shakes his head and leaves the room. 

The second death hits him harder. Max and Julian, a gay couple. Max dies due to the trauma to his head. It had been a hate crime. They’d been beaten with a bat. The only reason Julian had survived was because Max had done his best to protect him. And despite it all, he still had a multi compound leg fracture with no guarantee of walking properly again. Jack could only hold Julian’s hands as he sobbed, the heart wrenching wail that echoed in his brain as he made his way to the rooftop. 

Just some fresh air before he heads out. Just a moment of levity. He told himself but when he got up there, his feets hit the edge of the concrete before he realized it. He’s staring down at the pavement below, the people walking there rather than the sky he usually liked to admire. 

He could jump. He could. Take the pain, the guilt, the hurt- oh the ache of it all. And he could jump. 

The singularity of it all would collapse in on itself and Jack would go back to being spacedust. No longer a black hole. He could jump. 

He could jump.

He could-

“Boss?”

He looks back and Shen’s there, the worry in his eyes so evident, it makes Jack want to throw up. He realizes his hands are shaking and shit- when did he start crying? 

“Boss, are you okay?” John’s voice is quiet, and his usually stoic face had a strange panic he hadn’t seen before. His hands hover, almost like he wanted to reach out but was afraid that the touch would send him tumbling down. 

“Why are you up here?” He says as he wipes off his tears with his still shaking hands. 

“You’ve had a tough day and I saw you head upstairs.”
“And you decided to follow me up here like a creep?” He goes for a joking tone but it comes out harsher.
“It was that or find you on the pavement 2 minutes later apparently.”
“I wouldn’t-”
“Yes you would. I know that look.”

Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his face tiredly. He remembered Shen’s quietness when they had brought in a suicide attempt last month. Remembered their quiet conversation in the on-call room later about his own brother, how he had found him. He climbs over the railing to his side before the kid can come closer. Before he had to see something he shouldn’t have to again. He couldn’t do this to him.

There’s a moment of hesitation before Shen pulls him into a hug. Jack stiffens. The man is considerably taller than him and yet he curls into Jack’s shoulder. Jack slowly wraps his hand around his head and he presses the man close, the warm presence grounding despite the fact that it feels like Jack’s the one comforting him and not the other way around. 

“I’m okay, kid. I’m okay.” He mumbles but his voice is still a bit shaky. 

It’s not. Both of them know it’s not. But for the moment, it was enough. 

Jack even lets the man drop him off in his car, which his aching leg is thankful for.

And the next morning, when he’s back for another shift, Shen hands him a card. 

Sam Manroe
Psychotherapist

“She works mainly with ex-military clients. You should go.” 

Jack doesn’t take it. He thanks Shen but says he doesn’t need it, that he’s okay. It had just been an overwhelming day. Shen doesn’t protest only says, 

“If there’s a time you’re not then please come find me.”

Jack gives him a smile, a crooked one and turns to leave. But then his attention is grabbed by a familiar laugh and he watches as Robby steps into the ED, with Collins in tow. His heart, which was already heavy, feels like it’s filled with stones.
When Jack looks back, he recognizes the pity in Shen’s face.

Later in the day, Robby tells him that they’re official. And his heart breaks a little more.

At the end of the shift, he asks Michael for the week off before he takes the card from Shen after all. 

“So then you called me.” Sam said as she shifted herself, leaning closer to Jack who nodded,
“Yep.”
“But we’ve been in contact for two years now and you’re only bringing up Robby now.”
“I’ve brought up Michael before.” He protests though it’s weak and Sam immediately cuts through his bullshit.
“Yes, as your friend. But this is the first time you’re even admitting that you have feelings for him.”
“I-” Jack pauses, wondering how to even say this.
“Something happened.” She prompts and he huffs,
“Yes.”
“Care to share?”
“We had sex.”
“Recently?”
“Six.. months ago.”

Sam raises her eyebrows and he scowls at her,
“It was during the lockdowns alright? I couldn’t see you then.”
“We’ve had several sessions before today.”
“It wasn’t easy to bring up. I knew you would be judgemental.”
“Now why would I judge you for having an intimate relationship with someone you clearly love.”

Jack looks down, his face burning with shame. Sam’s voice is much softer when she asks,
“Jack what happened?”

The pandemic had been brutal. 

Day after day, night after night, both him and Robby left the ED shaking, eyes full of tears. Both of them ended on the roof one time or the other. Both of them pulled the other off the ledge and both of them went home to an empty apartment. 

Then one night. 

“Heather broke up with me.” 

Jack’s head snaps to Michael. They’re once again at the ambulance bay, smoking. They found themselves here more often than not. 

It’s a simple sentence. But it brings about a mix of emotions from Jack. First is relief, happiness. Then the guilt over feeling it. Then only sadness over his friend losing someone who he loved. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, things were shaky and this..” He breathed out slowly and Jack could hear the exhaustion in his voice. His heart twists as Robby says,
“This just broke us apart. Nothing we could do.” 

Jack nudges him slightly, unable to pull him into a hug like he wanted to. Michael nudges him back. 

“We’ll get through it.”
“Will we?” 

And Michael, he sounds so defeated. His eyes are looking away, and his shoulders are tense. He can see how close he is to falling apart. Jack can’t help but reach out and hold his hand. PPE be damned. His own feelings be damned. Robby looks at him finally and he can see the tears in them.

“Yes we will.” He says, squeezing their now intertwined hands.
“We will get through this shit, both of us. I promise. I’ll even carry you over the finish line if need be.”

Michael gives him the smallest smile with the fondest of looks. His heart skips a beat despite it all. 

“I believe you.”

That night before they go home, Jack offers Michael the key to his apartment. 

“I don’t want to be alone and honestly, I don’t want you to be alone either. So, if you want to-”
“I do.” He says softly, taking the key from Jack,
“Thanks Jack.”

Robby all but moved in after that. The guest bedroom becomes Robby's room. He does their laundry on Friday, Jack folds it the next day. They try their best to cook on alternative days. 

And then Adamson fell sick. 

Michael. Oh, his poor Michael.
Like Atlas punished to hold up the sky, he suddenly had to take on the entire ED. Hold up the entire world but with the burden of also caring for someone who was nothing less than his father. And he tries. Gods, does he try. He gives everything he has and more. 

And when they return home, he always collapses in the doorway. Some days, no, most days, there were tears. He’d crouch, draw into himself in a way that made him look impossibly small. He never cried loudly, only soft and quiet gasps that made it hard to know if he was even crying. 

But Jack always figured it out. And he always sat with him. He’d take off his prosthetic and sit crossed legged in front of Robby, hands holding his tightly. Robby would lean his head against their intertwined hands and cry, until he couldn’t anymore. Then they’d both take turns in the shower. They made dinner sometimes, sometimes they drank together, sometimes they even joked and laughed. But the sadness that lingered never truly went away. 

Jack wanted to snap at the world sometimes. At the ED, at the nurses, the residents and even at Adamson.
The world had enough heroes.
Michael is all that he had.
They didn’t need Micheal. His Michael.

Day after day after day, the world ground down on him until there was nothing left. 

“Do you remember the first time I cried in front of you?”
Michael looks at him, his eyes full of tears. They were on the living room floor again. The shift had been so long, they’d reached home at 10 pm. Jack hadn’t managed to take his prosthetic off yet.
“You cried about your pet rat.”

Jack smiles and nods,
“I did.”

He pauses and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter. 

“Actually I cried because… I asked you why you cared. And you said-”
“I just do.” Michael interrupts him, tearing his gaze away and Jack lets out the softest, “Yeah.”

The next day Adamson dies.

Michael doesn’t come home that day. And even though he has the day off, Jack makes his way to the hospital. Everyone’s eyes are on him the moment he walks in with that look, the same look his commanding officers gave him when his wife died. He wants to throw up. 

Then Shen corners him, his eyes sunken and full of tears, hidden by the plastic face covering. John doesn’t beat around the bush.
“Dr Adamson’s dead.” 

Those words send a chill down his spine but the first words that leaves his lips are,
“Robby?”
“In the morgue. He’s not- Boss, he’s not doing well.”
“Okay. Okay, thank you. Are you-”
“I’m okay. You need to go.”

A nod and he’s making his way to the morgue. It’s cold, the kind that seeps into your bones. He can hear the softest whisper of a prayer. 

And there he is. His Michael. 

Curled up in a corner, left hand wrapped around his head in a way to soothe himself. The right held his Star of David. He murmured a prayer that Jack didn’t know.
Jack slowly makes his way over, slowly kneels in front of him and waits. There is nothing to say. Nothing that would fix this. So he just sits and waits. 

Michael looks at him after 15 minutes. His eyes are red, his face splotched red. 

“Jack-” He whispers but his voice cuts off with a sob and Jack finally reaches over to hug him tightly. Robby sobs into his shoulders and he can do nothing but hold him. Hold him until his breaths become even, steady. 

After that he leads Robby home. 

Shower. Food. Bed. 

The next day is Robby’s day off. It’s not his. He leaves after making breakfast for both of them, even though Robby is not awake yet.

When he returns. Robby's still in bed, a mess. Of course he is. He expects that. But what he's not expecting is how he clings to him. 

“Jack-” Michael gasps out, pulling him in and Jack lets himself be tugged into bed, holding the man tighter.
“Hey. Hey. You’re okay.” he whispers quietly as the man curls into him. 

“No. Jack, I can't feel...” he sobs,
“I can't feel anything. It's all so cold.” 

Jack feels tears spring into his own eyes and he presses his face into Michael's hair, taking in the smell of his shampoo. He blinks back his tears before pulling back to meet Robby's eyes.
“I have you. You're safe.” He whispers, as his eyes search Robby's face which is still splotchy and red from crying. His heart aches. 

He leans down and presses their forehead together.
“You’re okay, Michael.” He whispers softly.

There's a moment of silence as slowly, Robby syncs his breathing with Jack's. Their eyes never leave each other but Robby's fingers dig into Jack's shirt.
Then something flickers in his eyes. And Michael surges up to kiss him. 

Michael. Kissed. Him. 

Shocked, Jack freezes for a second before he pulls away. His heart feels like it's going a million miles per hour. 

“Robby,” he says, voice shaking,
“What-What are you doing?”  

“I just need to feel something. Anything. I'm so cold.”
“We shouldn't, you're clearly not thinking this through and I-” I love you.
“The last thing I want to do is think. Jack, please. You’re the one thing I haven’t lost, let me have you please.”

And how could he argue with that? 

Robby was asking him for one thing. One thing in their years of friendship where Michael had given everything and Jack had just taken and taken. He could help Robby. For once he didn’t have to be a blackhole that took everything from that bright sun. 

It was Michael who needed him and not the other way around.

Jack kisses him and it’s not sweet and gentle like he thought their first kiss would be. It’s demanding and harsh and needy and Michael returns it with the same fervor. His hands are pushing off Jack’s shirt and he pulls away to take it off before returning to the kiss. Robby’s rough hands brush along his sides, his chest, the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He shudders at the touch, each brush, each little press feeling like fire burning under his skin. 

Jack would be lying if he said that helping Michael was the only reason he was saying yes. It wasn’t.

He wanted this. He’s wanted Michael since that day in the ambulance bay and he would want him for the rest of his life. And yes, he was being selfish. He knew he was being selfish. But there would be no other chances for him. No other chance to hold Michael like this. To be touched like this. To be held by him. To be loved by him. 

He rolls his hips down and both of them let out a strained groan. 

Jack presses a kiss to his jaw, his neck, bites until there's red marks littered all over. Until Robby whines at him to stop teasing him. Jack hums and bites once more before moving away to take off Robby’s shirt and he looks.. Jack wants to say beautiful but he looks like he’s been crying.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he leans in to kiss Robby again who pulls him in without hesitation.
“Don’t ask me that.” 

Then he feels Robby cup his already hardening cock through his pants and all his doubts fly through the window. He stifled a groan but couldn't help bucking his hips into Robby’s hand. Fuck. When was the last time he’d done this? When was the last time he had felt anyone touch him like this before? 

“Jack, I want you.” Robby’s voice is breathy and Jack’s head swims. He lurches forward to kiss him, head heavy with lust. 

Michael wanted him.
Him. 

Jack feels him move his hands trace along his hips and pull off his pants which he kicks off with a grunt before returning to the kiss with a hunger that he fears will swallow them both whole. His fingers grab into Robby’s waist, trying to drag him closer and he doesn’t even notice how hard he’s pressing until the man hisses under him.
“Sorry. Shit-” He whispers letting go immediately, watching fingerprints bloom red into Robby’s skin, right above his hip bones. He whines, a strange kicked sound when he realizes he's clawed too hard. He looks up at Robby and sees only want.

“You’re okay.” Michaels whispers and tugs him back down again, and his voice is oddly calm.
“That’s exactly what I need right now.”

Jack feels his mouth dry up as Robby grabs his hands and puts it back on his hips. 

“You want me? You want to fuck me?” He asks and Jack only nods dumbly. Words to explain his needs, his want- gods, his years of want simply slipped past his tongue uncontrollably.
“You have me. Lube?”
“I have medical ones… in my bathroom cabinet.”
“Go get it.”

Jack gets off with one smooth motion and makes his way to the bathroom obediently. He grabs the bottle of lube and the condom. He washes his hand.

It’s only when he stands in front of the mirror and looks at himself does it hit him. 

“You want me?... Go get it.”

Robby looked at him like a dog after all.
It had been no joke.

A dog. 

Obedient, following whatever Robby told him to. Circling his heels, cowering under the tables, waiting for scraps. Snarling at anyone who got too close to him. Waiting for affection like a fool. 

What was he doing?

Robby was clearly not doing okay. This is not what he needed at all. He should say no. End it before it got too far, before it slipped into something that would hurt them both. A taste would be all he needed before Jack would get addicted to it. And he would fall all over again into a new low.

He makes his way to the bedroom, slowly, his heart beating out of his chest.
Say no.
Say no.
You need to say n-

“Jack?”

All the words in his head disappear in an instant. He crawls right back into bed with Robby. 

The earlier hesitance is gone now and they move through the motion smoothly but with the same level of desperation. The rest of their clothes come off in record time and Jack rubs the lube in between his fingers to warm it up before he’s pushing two fingers into Robby. 

Robby gasps his name and his eyes take in every singular detail.
The way he ground his hips down, the way his face flushed. The way he clenched around his fingers before relaxing and the way his hips moved to meet his hand with every thrust. His whine when Jack pressed against his prostate. He can’t help but memorise each twitch, little sound or the way his brows furrowed.
This would be his only chance and he never wanted to forget this. 

When Robby’s begging him for more is when he finally pulls away from him.

His hands shake as he rolls on the condom before adding more lube to hand before spreading it over his cock generously and as he slowly pushes into Robby, his attention is more on the way his fingers dig into his thighs. The pleasure is sharp and Robby’s moan pulls his gaze back on him. He’s crying again, tears trailing down his temple, soaking into the pillow. 

“You look amazing.” He whispers softly and it makes Robby cry more. He cups his face with the hand that isn’t covered in lube and kisses him deeply. He doesn’t bother trying to wipe away the tears on his face, it feels impossible to. 

When Jack moves, the pace isn’t slow and passionate. It’s rough, fast, harsh and with every thrust Robby cries out, in pain, pleasure- it was hard to figure out. 

There was no tenderness. No love. 

It should break Jack. It doesn’t. 

“Jack-” Robby groans as he grabs his legs and puts it over his shoulder. Jack bites down on his calf to stifle a moan of his own as he slides in deeper. 

It feels all wrong and yet so fucking good. It’s the exact opposite of what he thought it would be like to be with Michael.
His hands grab Robby’s cock, hard and leaking on his stomach and strokes in time with his thrusts, one, twice- 

Robby spills over his hands, their stomach as Jack kisses him, muffling his moans. He clenches around his cock tightly and it’s what pushes Jack over the edge. His hips stutter and he pushes in deeper as he comes. 

He pulls out, shaky hands tying off the condom before throwing it away.

Jack then all but collapses into the bed besides Michael. They don’t say anything. Both of them trying to catch their breath, too exhausted, too broken. 

And when Jack closes his eyes, he falls asleep instantly, the exhaustion of the day, the week, the month, the year, all hitting him at once.   

Jack wakes up with a start in the dark. Robby’s breathing is even and quiet besides him. They’re both covered with a blanket. His head pounds like he’s going through a horrible hangover. He makes his way out of the bed, searching in the darkness for firstly his boxers and then his pants whose second pocket still held his phone. 

25%
2 am. 

He makes his way to the bathroom. He throws up. Well, with nothing in his stomach but acid, he dry heaves until his head feels like it’s about to burst. He washes out his mouth, splashes water on his face and swallows an Advil dry.
He needs a smoke. He needs a drink. He needs someone to hold him. To tell him that everything is okay. To someone to run their finger through his hair. To tell him he was good. He needed someone to love him. 

A smoke would have to do. He makes his way to the balcony, lights up a smoke and stares at the city lights. His head is strangely quiet and the night is dark, black clouds hiding the stars and the moon. 

He’s on his second cigarette, when he hears the familiar footsteps approaching him. 

Robby’s beside him and Jack offers him a cigarette. He takes one and Jack lights it for him. They sit in the silence for a moment more. 

“I’m so-”
“Don’t. Just…” Jack can’t even look at Michael, can’t meet his eyes.
“Don’t.”

The silence that follows is heavy. 

“Jack-” He starts but Jack cuts him off.
“We can’t do that again. I- I can’t do it, Michael.” 

His voice breaks, his hands are shaking again and his eyes are full of tears. His heart. It aches with the weight of it all. He’s angry and he’s hurt and he’s so so ashamed. How could have Robby asked him of that? How could he have said yes? How was he here at all? 

And he’s crouched on the floor again, for the second time in front of Robby. Once again Robby reaches out, holds his hand. He leans his forehead against it. A lifeline. But this time, he doesn’t sob. He doesn’t cry.
“You can’t ask me to do that again. Ask me to die instead. Don’t- Please don’t ask me of that.” 

“I’m sorry...”

His guilt wells up once more and he shakes his head,
“Don’t be sorry. You shouldn’t be sorry. I should have- I should have said no. I'm sorry.” 

Robby says nothing. What was there even to say? 

A minute ticks by. 

Jack lets go of Robby’s hands to wipe off the tears from the corner of his eyes, his heart a little too hollow.

“Fuck. I need sleep. I have a shift tomorrow.”
“Jack-”
“Go to bed Robby.” He says finally, picking up the fallen cigarette and putting it out on the ashtray he had shoved in between the bars of his balcony,
“We don’t have to talk about this. I- I know you needed this. And I tried. Is that not enough?”
A pause.

“It is more than enough.”
“Good. Then… Sleep well Michael.”

With that he walks back to his bedroom. He can’t look back at Robby. The shame that follows is too much.

“And that’s it?”
“Yep.”
“You haven’t talked about it after with Robby?”
“No. He moved back into his place after a few weeks. And things sort of went back to normal.”
“Have you talked about it with anyone at all?”
“No. Well, not directly. But-”

The next day he wakes up and Michael is gone. A note reads: 

“Gone for my shift. You have the night today.”

Michael had swapped their shift. 

He doesn’t have the strength to fight it. He takes the day to actually eat something, make dinner to take for his shift then proceeds to clean his house. His room, the living room, the kitchen then finally, Robby’s room.
He walks in then swiftly walks out. 

Not yet. He couldn’t do it yet. 

He takes a long shower, one that wasn’t just a quick rinse. He takes a nap somewhere in the middle of the day. 

Then he goes for his shift. He spots Robby the moment he steps inside in his PPE. He looks exhausted, dead on his feet. He grabs his shoulders and pulls him away before he can talk to another nurse. 

“Go home.” He says firmly and the man who usually protested, looks him over, his expression strange and nods,
“Dana will give you the rundown.”
Jack nods back,
“Sounds good. Go home. Shower. Sleep. Food’s in the fridge.”
Michael almost seems to relax as he steps back,
“Thanks Jack.”

Jack on one hand is happy that the night seemed to have changed nothing between them. Other part of him is angry.
Both parts of it are overwhelmed by the hurt of it all.

The shift is brutal as it always is. But the night is quiet and the air is cool and his heart is not as heavy as it is in the morning. 

And during a quiet hour, he steps out onto the ambulance to find Shen there. He takes the moment to smoke while the kid eats what was supposed to be his dinner. But the other looked like he needed it more so he had caved. 

“Ellis?” Jack asks, finding her suspiciously absent in the last few hours.
“Home early. I told her to go home.”
“Didn’t even ask me?”
“You would have said the same. She… needed it.”
“Fair enough. How are you holding up?”
“Honestly, not that bad, considering the shit show that was yesterday.”
“You just pulled a double man. I don't know how you're even awake.” Jack says, almost in awe of the calm that John held in this chaos.
“I enjoy the night shift. Also, it's called being not 50 and having a bedtime at 9.”
“And not you stealing my energy drinks? Yeah, I know that's you, asshole. Stop stealing my shit.”

John just grins at him and Abbot shakes his head as he takes a long drag of his cigarette. 

“How's Robby doing?” Shen asks in between big bites of pasta and Jack lets out a big sigh,
“I honestly don't know.”
He pauses and then silently confesses,
“I think I fucked up. And.. I don’t know how I can fix it.” 

There's a moment of silence and Jack puts out the last of his cigarette. 

“You’ll figure it out, Boss. You always do.” The resident says at last.

Though his heart fills with fondness, Jack lets out an amused huff and says,
“I don’t know if your confidence in me is the best reassurance.”
“It’s better reassurance than your past experience with romance, man.”

Jack snatches his tupperware back from John’s hand,
“Food access revoked.”
“Hey!-”
“That’s what you get for being an ass.”

“Then I kicked him in the shin-”
“You’re derailing the subject.”
“But that’s what happened.” Jack says with a sigh and Sam rolls her eyes at him.
“While it is nice that you ‘talked’ with your friend.”
“I wouldn’t call him my friend-”
“It’s clear you’re still harboring feelings for Robby. And it’s not just love. You clearly still feel hurt from that night.”
“Of course I’m hurt. But the fact of the matter is, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that I love him like a desperate street dog. He never meant to hurt me.”
“I do wish you would stop referring to yourself as a dog.” She says softly and when he doesn’t say anything in response she continues,
“And people rarely ever mean to hurt others intentionally. We’re not made for that Jack.”
“I remember. We survived because we learned how to cooperate. ”
“Exactly.” She says pleased and Jack can’t help the smile that curls into his lips,
“But it doesn’t take away from the fact that you were hurt nonetheless. You’re allowed to feel as such.”
“Am I?”
“You are.”
“Then why do I feel like shit for feeling that way?”

Sam sits up straighter and Jack subconsciously follows her lead as she says,
“You’re not going to like what I say.”
“When do I ever?”
“You clearly adore Michael, it’s clear. You try your best for him. But you can’t always rely on him. You call yourself a blackhole but do you know, the sun rotates around it? Not the other way around.”
“Do not use my metaphors against me.”

“Fine. Here’s another one then. Michael is your anchor and anchors are important, yes, but you can’t always let yourself be chained by them. You never move forward that way.”

Jack’s face falls, the snark all dissolves. 

“I can’t let him go. I still love him. I still… I need him. If nothing, he’s still a friend.”
“I’m not asking you to let him go completely. But, some distance, it might do you good.”
“I.. I don’t know.”
“And that’s okay. But let me ask you this, if it weren’t for Robby, would you stay in the day shift?”

He doesn’t have to think about the answer because it’s a simple,
“No. I prefer the nights.”
“Why?”
“It’s quieter. Even through the chaos, it feels easier to breathe in.”
“You find comfort in the darkness.”
“I do.”

Silence. 

Sam glances at her watch before standing up,
“That’s all for today then. I’m sure you have a lot to think about.”

Jack rolls his eyes at her but takes the cue to leave,
“Thanks for today Sam. See you next week then?”
“Of course.”

Three days later, Jack’s outside in the ambulance bay with Robby again. It’s day break, Jack had just finished his shift. Robby was about to begin his. In the morning sunlight, Robby looks beautiful. His brown hair seems to glow in the warm orange light and his cigarette smoke around him looks like clouds. This time, Jack’s not smoking. 

“I want to be the primary attending for the night shift.” He tells Robby who looks at him in surprise.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” He lies,
“I just need you to approve it, Chief.”
Robby’s brows furrow, he wants to reach over and smoothen it out,
“Did something happen?”
“Nope.” He says, making the last syllable pop,
“I just work better during the night. Besides, the lack of administrative oversight is great.”
“You hate Walsh though.”
“Ehh, we’ll get over it. Besides, I will have Shen to keep me in check.”

Robby laughs at that, though it’s quiet.
“Sure. He’ll keep you in check.” He murmurs around his cigarette. 

Jack rocks on his heels for a moment before his impatience overtakes him,
“So? Will you approve it?”

Robby looks over at him and gives him a smile, but it’s tight, pained. Jack feels guilt well up like a familiar friend but he doesn’t falter. He can’t. 

“Of course. I understand why you want it. I’ll get the paperwork ready for you by tonight.”

Relief crashes into him along with the hurt he knew would follow. Some part of him wanted Robby to fight it, fight for him. 

But he knows far too well that he needed this. All he did was take. And he had taken enough from Michael because one day, there would be nothing for him to take.

Blackholes didn’t revolve around Suns. 

They consumed them whole. And he had come too close to it once. 

He couldn’t risk it again.