Work Text:
The first time he spotted you was on a Sunday afternoon.
Sunlight streamed down the canopies on his street as you stomped up your new front steps with a box in your arms. A cool breeze blew your dress to one side, hair following suit. Arms glowed in the warm light, damp with sweat from the heat and from the exercise. You dropped the box by the door, then hurried back outside.
He was coming back from a late lunch with Jake, catching up and all. You don’t see him yet, but he’s frozen on the sidewalk, looking at the moving truck parked in the street. It’s you and his next door neighbour standing by the truck, assessing the situation.
Your friend spotted him first, raising an arm up to wave. “Robby.”
You turned, eyes squinting. The first thing you saw was his beard, then the crinkle between his eyebrows when he was looking at you, trying to figure you out. Your friend hopped down from the truck to meet him in the middle. You followed.
“Hey, Serena.” He greeted her, voice all gruff. He crossed one arm over the other, the glint of his watch facing you. After trailing the cotton of your dress up, his eyes met yours. Golden hour was doing wonders for you.
“This is my friend,” Serena introduced you, “she’s taking over my lease while I’m gone.”
Robby nodded, “Nice to meet you.”
“You must be the doctor.” You smiled, mouth wider than intended. Serena had mentioned him to you once or twice. Emergency doctor, barely home, but shut-in when he was. Grumpy old man, she had joked, but she never mentioned he was… attractive.
Robby gave a bashful nod, and Serena must’ve caught you staring because she nudged you on the shoulder. You recoiled, rubbing your arm dramatically.
“Hey, play nice.” She warned you teasingly. Her eyes darted to him, leaning towards Robby like she was telling a secret, “This one bites.”
“Serena…” You scolded as she headed back to the truck with a laugh and a skip. Face burnt in embarrassment, you cursed her out in your head. You exhaled, looking at Robby’s amusement, an eyebrow quirked by intrigue and a subtle rise of his lip. Meekly, you attempted to smile, “Sorry… Nice meeting you.” You trekked back to Serena quickly.
Robby let out a breathy laugh to himself, before shaking his head and walking to the door. From over his shoulder, he heard you and Serena laughing to each other.
“You didn’t tell me that Grumpy Old Man was hot.” He heard you say to Serena. She cackled with an eww attached to it.
The second time you saw him, you were coming home from work.
It was early in the morning, six o’clock or so. You were approaching the steps to your front door, and he was just emerging from his. Rubbing your eyelids, you couldn’t help but look over. He had on a brown hooded jacket over his scrubs and dark brown boots. His hair was dishevelled, like he didn’t even look in the mirror before leaving.
When he reached for his keys in his pocket, you realized you had been staring. His head turned and, all of a sudden, you weren’t.
“Morning,” Robby said your name as he gave a sleepy grin.
With a yawn, you nodded, “Headed to work, Dr. Robby?”
He laughed softly, “Uh, huh.” He noticed that you had a bag full of your things and were dressed in sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, leaning against the rail. “Just got back from somewhere, or…”
“Work,” You nodded, “You know how it is.” He gave a slow nod. You grabbed your keys from your purse and reached for the door. Before opening, you turned over your shoulder, “Have a good work day, Dr. Robby.”
The third time, Robby came home from a night shift.
His sleep schedule hadn’t gotten the memo, but the caffeine in his system told him otherwise. Finishing his shift, he was absolutely exhausted yet alert. The night was college students getting their stomach pumped, babies with too-high fevers, a diner chef with third-degree burns, and sleep deprived parents pacing in the waiting room. Nothing extreme, nothing unusual, but, then again, it was an emergency department.
The sun had been peeking above the buildings that sprawled past his street, and the brisk morning temperature held steady on his way home. Medium blues and lilacs coated the sky and clouds moved so slowly.
From your stoop, he spotted a puff of smoke flying into the air. Drowning in a dark hoodie, you were perched on your steps, cigarette in one hand and phone in the other. Your knees were pulled to your chest and you were peeking over the railing to see him. He might’ve decided he was too tired to say hello if you hadn’t waved.
“Robby.” You called, not bothering to stand from your seated position.
“Hi.” He passed his own door, approaching you.
Your eyes glazed over his tired face and rolled up sleeves as he stopped in front of you. Putting your phone down, you patted the brick beside you, sit, like he was a dog. And he obeyed, the smell of coffee, faint pine, and hand sanitizer lingering from one place to the next.
You offered him the cigarette wordlessly, then immediately caught yourself, “Oh, sorry.” You gestured at him, “Doctor. I know.”
With slow hesitation, he shook his head slightly, “Uh, uh.” His fingers traced yours, reaching for the cigarette. He was all wound up anyway, he probably needed it. You gave it to him graciously.
In between his lips, he felt the grain of your glitter lip gloss and tasted the flavour of bubble gum on the filter. You leaned back on your hands, watching him puff. It would be a disservice to not recognize how attractive it was: the suck of his cheeks, lines on his face flattening and reshaping, the pull, then the release. He held the cigarette in between his index and middle, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Work was rough?” You asked quietly, more interested in the way the smoke played by his face than his answer.
“Just tired. I don’t usually work nights.”
You gave a hum of affirmation, taking the cigarette back from him and puffing yourself.
“How was work for you?” He nudged his knee against your bare legs, which were now stretched into the sidewalk landing.
“Same old, same old.” You exhaled, facing away from him and crossing one of your legs over the other. Passing the cigarette back, you caught his eye. He had been looking over his shoulder at you, expressionless and observant. Not realizing he was so close, you almost bumped him doing so.
“What do you do? For work, I mean.” He asked quietly, then took a puff.
You weren’t really listening, scanning his figure instead. The crows feet by his eye, the tired wrinkles on the side of his neck, and the bend of his arm as he rested it against his thigh. You couldn’t even feel guilty because the sight had been that good. Eyes landed on his badge that dangled from his hip. You smiled, tapping it.
“Michael Robinavitch, MD.” You read, looking back up to him. His head turned back to you, the tired look still overshadowing whatever emotion he wanted to convey. “Cute photo.” You teased, grabbing the cigarette back from him.
“Thanks,” he chuckled softly, shaking his head to himself. He watched you take another hit, then stamp it out on the ground. “How do you like the neighbourhood?”
“It’s nice. Very…” you hummed, “Geriatric.”
“Hey…” He scolded playfully.
You gestured to an old couple across the street, who had been emerging from their front door with a huge greyhound. Waving, you caught their attention and they returned the wave.
“The Robinsons are sweet.” You told him, nudging his shoulder, “I’ve talked to them a few times on their morning walk. Susie’s getting cataract surgery next month.”
“Right.” He nodded mockingly at you.
“But my next door neighbour…” You started, a coquettish grin growing on your face. “He’s another story.”
“Really?” He tilted his head at you and raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, he’s up at ungodly hours of the day, throwing parties and doing God-knows-what.” You exaggerated, watching the Robinsons make their way down the street. “I can barely sleep with all that noise.”
“He sounds terrible.” Robby played along with a smile.
Raising an eyebrow at him, you warned, “He’s lucky we don’t have an HOA.”
“Okay,” he rolled his eyes. You smiled, watching as his eyes landed back on yours.
Truthfully, you nodded, “The neighbourhood’s nice, much nicer than my last one. Not noisy at all, even when I’m asleep.”
“And your next door neighbour?” He raised an eyebrow at you.
“Haven’t decided yet.” You pursed your lips. His eyes held yours, and your breath caught. He tilted his head at you, goading more of a definitive answer from you. Then, you nudged his arm again, “You do shut the door like a maniac, though.”
Half-laugh, half-yawn, he smiled anyway, “Uh, huh.”
You looked at the sun, which was breaking between the buildings at the end of the street. The cool morning air had dissipated into something slightly warmer, and you took that as your cue.
“Should probably get some rest.” You said, meant more for him than you.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He nodded, starting to stand from his sitting position. He slowly made his way back to his door. You stood, watching as he walked down the sidewalk.
“Goodnight,” He called your name from his stoop, looking at you until you said it back.
“Goodnight, Dr. Robinavitch.” You smiled sweetly before escorting yourself into your apartment.
Then, it became a common thing.
Usually, it was a quick hello in the morning— an acknowledgement of his scrubs and ruffled hair and a cheeky goodnight as the sun came up. Sometimes, you’d ask for some miscellaneous ingredient you probably had at the back of your pantry (but wanted to see him). Then, it evolved into something more, like coming over for coffee in the morning.
You’d bring pastries from the bakery a few blocks down. Robby would make some comment about you “spoiling him.” You’d pat his belly playfully after he ate, like you knew him for ages. He’d smile warmly, leaning into your touch. There’d be a moment where maybe you got too close and your eye caught his with a hitch of the breath. Then, you two would go on your neighbourhood walk as if nothing had happened.
Or Robby found himself tagging along on your grocery trips. You’d be halfway out the door with your reusable bags in tow and he’d catch you from his window. He’d insist on driving, nudging his head to where his car was parked down the street. You’d take aux, playing some modern music he didn’t really know.
“Learn a thing or two, old man.” You’d smile, nudging him before singing along again.
At the grocery store, an old lady would make comments about what a sweet couple you were— how you two reminded her of her late husband. Robby would stay quiet, watching your reaction, if any. Then you’d smile and thank them without a hassle.
Or it was simply a text. Not that he expected to see you everyday, but it was nice to have some kind of reassurance that you wouldn’t evaporate into thin air one day. Some days, you had been out on the town and texting Robby about some nice-looking restaurants or cafes. He’d reply with a “Let’s do it”, secretively smiling at his phone like a teenage girl.
If an ambulance drove by, you’d snap a picture and send it to him, knowing he was waiting for it. Thinking of you. Wink emoji.
This became routine, and you had memorized his schedule around yours. It was domestic without the strings. It was lighthearted companionship. You liked the arrangement, and he seemed to too. Especially since work felt lonely, it was nice to come home and have a constant.
On very rare occasions, you invited Robby over for dinner, when he had come home from work and you had a day off, or when you both had a day off.
“You probably don’t eat much in that hospital, huh?” You teased, passing him a beer from the fridge. You had been stirring the pot of pasta on your stove, while he was leaning against your counter, watching you intently.
“I manage.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. He was in his “normal person” clothes, a simple t-shirt with a forest green collared jacket on top and some blue jeans. You two had decided to try that new bar down the street after dinner.
You watched the way he fit into the kitchen. So casually, he stood beside you like that’s where he belonged. He had taken the San Diego magnet bottle opener from the side of the fridge, exactly where he knew it was. He even took his shoes off at the door, just as you requested. His hand around the cold glass of the beer bottle was so unconcerned, just as his face was. You’d never seen him so relaxed.
On mornings where you caught him on the way to work, it was like his shoulders were infinitely tense, automatically flinching at an alarm that wasn’t there. The times you did see him return from work, there was a weariness on his face and a slight droop of the eyes. He looked like he needed a big nap, or a cigarette. You wanted to be the one he fell into at the end of the day, and you were.
You hadn’t considered it too much, since his presence became a habit, but you realized you liked Robby more than you let on. Not only did you want him there, in your house, around all the time, but you wanted him.
“What?” Robby’s voice and chuckle cut through that thought. His eyes scattered like he’d done something wrong.
Voice weak, mouth gone dry, your eyes darted back up to his face and you asked, “Can you pass the Parmesan next to you?”
He nodded as he obeyed, “You were staring.”
“Yeah, I just had a mini stroke, I think.” You said unseriously, sprinkling cheese over the pasta like you hadn’t said that.
“What?” He repeated, now more alert. He had shifted forward, arms flexed and hands ready, like you needed them.
“No, I’m kidding.” You laughed, stirring the pot again.
He settled back into his former position, “Geez, kid. You can’t just say that, ‘specially not to a doctor.”
You sucked in a breath, reaching to turn off the stove, “Dinner’s ready.”
After dinner, you two had ended up at the bar, just as intended. It was far more hip than you thought, falling into a neighbourhood of elderly people. It had a stupid name, The Orca, after the boat in Jaws. The name had nothing to do with the interior.
It was just as dark as it was on the street. The only few lights coming from very dim green glass lamps hanging from the ceiling and the purple, turquoise, green, and warm yellow spotlights that coated a dance floor. Tipsy adults had been dancing— genuinely dancing— to whatever music the DJ was playing. It was packed, expected for a Friday night.
“I don’t think I’ve danced at a bar since I was in med school.” Robby noted with a chuckle. You were leading him towards the bar, which was busy all around.
Sliding between full stools, you got the attention of one of the bartenders. You turned to Robby, who was just inches behind you.
“What’re you drinking?” You asked, nudging your head towards the bar.
“Gin and tonic?” He shrugged, surveying the area for some seats.
You ordered his drink, along with a Rum and Coke for yourself, and requested an open tab. The bartender nodded and trailed off to do so.
As a group had come and gone from your section of the bar, some guy slid by next to you, “Busy, huh?”
You had been watching your bartender, then realized he was talking to you. Turning over, you squinted your eyes, “Huh?”
Absolutely focused on you, he was probably around your age, nursing a pint. He was fairly attractive, maybe on any other night you’d care. You weren’t a stranger to getting hit on at a bar, but you had just been so disinterested, mind on something else— someone.
“The bar,” He nodded, gesturing around, “It’s busy.”
“Oh,” you shrugged indifferently, “Yeah, well, it’s Friday.”
“Yeah,” He nodded with a smile, leaning towards you, “What brings you here tonight?”
The bartender had finished up with your drinks, placing two glasses in front of you. After a quick thanks, you looked back to the guy and repeated, slightly irritated, “It’s Friday.”
Reaching out for the glasses, you felt Robby tap on your shoulder, “Seats over there.” He nudged his head to the other side of the room, then to the drinks, “I’ll grab ‘em.” You nodded, moving aside for him.
Slipping past you, he glared over, spotting the guy who had been speaking to you. The guy’s mouth had fallen slightly ajar as Robby pointedly asked, “Did you need somethin’?”
The guy narrowed his eyes at Robby, who towered over him, and mumbled some “Jesus” under his breath with the roll of his eyes. He walked away and Robby had followed you.
“Seems like you got some fans.” Robby said, sliding into the U-shaped booth beside you and placing the drinks on the table. The red vinyl was sticky under your palms as you scooted closer to him.
You smiled bashfully and shook your head, “Nah, he was just bored.” Robby gestured to him and his friends by the bar, who had been mumbling to each other and looking in your direction.
“A lot of attention for someone so bored.” He mocked, seemingly ticked off.
“Are you jealous, doctor?” You sang, nudging his arm with your elbow. A smile grew on your face as you took a sip of your drink.
The blush on his face and his avoidant eye contact made you settle in closer to him. You watched his hands grasp around his glass, bringing it up to his lips and completely disregarding that there had been a straw in it.
“Well, how about you?” You insisted with a nod, folding one hand over the other on the table. “I’m sure girls are all over you at the bars.”
“Honey,” he chuckled, causing you to cock an eyebrow, “I haven’t properly been to a bar in months.”
“Why not?”
“Well, work… for one.” He shrugged. “And—“
“Okay, how about work?” You interjected, leaning in. “Is it Grey’s Anatomy up in there or what?”
Robby leaned back, a smile playing at his lips and a laugh stuck in his throat, “Excuse me?”
“Oh, c’mon, are you the hospital hussy?” You sipped on your drink, teasing him with a playful grin.
He tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes at you as he pursed his lips. You stared right back, as if there had been some competition. That was the thing about you and Robby— you acted like he was your age, not some deadbeat old man whose job ruled his life. He felt like he was still young with you, or at least virile. You acted like it wasn’t ridiculous you two were at the bar together, squeezed into a booth all romantic-like.
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” He furrowed his eyebrows, but his lips upturned.
You liked the element of surprise you put in Robby. Picking up on his tired eyes, the could’ve-been life that sat wistfully inside of him, you saw the dead end that he thought he met. You felt it too, so mixing it up, saying whatever was on your mind, made it less sad and less lonely. The light at the end of the tunnel, or whatever.
Finishing up your own drink, you noticed that he was running dry as well. His eyes wandered around the swarm of bodies that moved in sync. It was that wistfulness again, a sparkle of nostalgia in his eyes. A smile grew on your face as you recognized the song change.
You nodded your head at him, “You wanna dance?”
Taken aback, Robby gave a surprised smile, “Dancing? Am I in my twenties again?”
“That wasn’t a no.” You sang, smiling as you coaxed his arm to the dance floor.
“I don’t know how to dance.” He protested, reluctantly following you out of the booth.
“Does anyone?”
You yanked him close by his forearms, having him crowd you, making sure it was obvious who was whose. He smiled like it was ridiculous, saying so under his breath as well.
You started swaying to the music, finding a rhythm with him. He did the same, slowly trying to break the barrier between awkwardness and euphoria. You smiled, watching him do so. There was something so charming about his meeting you in the middle.
You leaned your head towards his ear and said, “I was staring, by the way.” Pulling back, you saw the grin on his face grow wider.
“Were you?” He tilted his head teasingly.
“You knew I was.”
“I wasn’t sure if you had a mini stroke or not.” He shrugged and you rolled your eyes.
You placed your forearms to rest on his shoulders, beckoning him to slide in closer to you. He did so, hands finding your hips. Becoming one unit, your moves glued to each other’s, just as your eyes did. Your face neared his and you smelled the gin on his lips and felt the heat of him overtake you.
“Hey,” you called, practically into his beard. He nodded wordlessly, completely entranced by his view. You leaned forward but waited for a sign of reciprocity. He smiled again before following suit.
Slowly, you exhaled, surveying his face one more time before pulling yourself up to him. Lips grazed his beard before anything and the tip of his nose touched your cheek. You felt his hands press into your lower back, grasping like he was about to slip. You could’ve sworn he made a sound when you kissed him.
Music reverbed off the walls and the lights went out on you. The contact of his lips felt like a crashing shock. It was one press— the surface area finding yours as if he needed to memorize it. When his body pressed against yours, your shoulders heighted and your body pushed against him. More. It felt greedy.
He started pulling back but immediately caught you again. Your lips desperately trailed him, kisses turning sloppier, faster, needier. Every press felt like you found an oasis, sipping water like you had been dehydrated for months, yet you hadn’t even tasted his tongue.
Your hands found his hair, fingers grazing the soft texture at the base of his skull. The sensation of the skin on his lips, the graze of his beard, the hair between your fingers, the texture of his jacket on your arms all felt like too much but also too little.
“Robby,” you mumbled, cut off by his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.
He hummed in return, “Yeah, baby?” He left a kiss on the corner of your lips, like he was starting a trail to return to. His head moved to the right side of your neck, soft kisses along the bone behind your ear, then your jaw, then lower and lower…
“Robby,” You repeated, more as an exhale than a proper word, like it was the only thing blinding your thoughts. His lips lifted from your neck, but his hands stayed stable on your waist. You gulped and opened your eyes slowly, afraid you had imagined it all.
When your eyes did open fully, you saw Robby, who was staring at you with a certain hunger in his eyes. The purple lights from the club surfaced over his face and you remembered where you were. He was so patient, eyes scanning around your face, ready whenever you finished that thought. Your mouth stayed ajar, dumbfounded.
Your breath desperately caught up with your heart. The sound of the music was white noise, indistinguishable from a breeze in the wind. Your eyes widened and you blinked like you couldn’t believe it. Your senses both shut down and tensed, all at once, as you zeroed in on Robby, who had grown a smile on his face. It was a movie kiss, you identified, a perfect release that could have only been rehearsed trillions of times but happened to fall into you like a shooting star.
“Honey,” he whispered, “You’re staring again.”
You snapped out of it, looking away from Robby sheepishly. It definitely wasn’t the first time you’ve been kissed, but it definitely was the first time you’ve been kissed like that. There was something so sure about Robby; maybe it was the slowburn but you assumed it was the way he guided you, like you didn’t have to worry about anything but being with him.
He squeezed his hands around your waist to get your attention and said, “Use your words.”
“Home, Robby. Please.” You inhaled sharply, “Take me home.”
The walk back was quiet. The orange of the street lights guided you home and strangers slinking around the streets reminded you just how eager you were to leave the club. Robby had slipped his jacket around your shoulders and his hand in yours. He pressed kisses into your temple while you walked, mumbling sweet little reassurance as you leaned into him.
Your knees felt weak when you approached his door and you wanted nothing more than to feel him again and again. On his stoop, your hands and your back found stability on the cold, steel railing. You felt drunk, not from the drink, but from the buzz and possibility of Robby wanting you too.
Your bottom lip slipped between your own teeth as he looked at you. You were wide-eyed and awestruck, so desperate to know what happens next. His eyes glazed over you in his jacket and he slipped an arm between the jacket and your back, pulling you closer.
You let out a satisfied hum, watching him unlock his door. Robby smiled down at you as he pushed it open, taking you with him. Your head reached up to his while he shut the door behind you.
Swiftly, his face met yours and his lips enveloped you again. You sighed into it, drawing closer to him. Your hands eagerly found his chest, running your fingers and palms up and down on the cotton of his shirt. You drew your head back against the door in ecstasy, so relieved and self-indulgent.
This time, his tongue found your bottom lip and eventually the inside of your mouth in three-fourths time. It all happened so slowly, and you drank up every painful millisecond. He relaxed against you, attempting to ease your heart’s tempo. God, he knew you wanted more, but he exhibited such good self control. You whined into it, feeling lightheaded from the taste of him.
Lips felt wet and messy all of a sudden, but he was taking his time with every kiss, both giving and taking. His mouth worked on you, like tuning a piano to perfection, with controlled movements and an ear for perfect tune. While his hands ran up and down your sides, you felt yourself shudder against him. His bottom half pressed against you as your back pressed up against the door.
With a groan, you bit down on his bottom lip, begging for more. Your leg hiked up around his hip, craving to feel him closer against you. His right hand found the back of your thigh, running up to grab onto your ass. Perching you on him for just a moment, his lips left yours then his head dipped to your neck.
“You really want me to fuck you against the door?” He mumbled into your skin sarcastically, heat against it causing you to gravitate closer to him. You felt his nose against your pulse and his beard grazing the skin on your collarbone, overwhelming you in the best way.
“Uh, uh.” You gulped, shaking your head as he planted soft, wet kisses up the column of your throat. His hands latched onto you more firmly and he pulled you in. Face moving up from your neck, his eyes found yours and his arm slipped around your back again.
“Good.”
With a yelp, you followed as he began to drag you down the hall with him. You giggled, quick and giddy, causing him to let out a chuckle as well. Your face pressed into his shoulder, warm with excitement and anticipation— so much so, you didn’t realize both of your shoes had been checked at the door. It was silly, the way he made you blush, like you were living some life you only knew before your alarm went off.
Reaching his room, it was barely lit by the warm street lights through the window. The glow surfaced on his face and you could tell he was smiling too. You pushed his jacket off of your shoulders, dropping it to the floor recklessly. He pulled you in close again, and your mouth reached for his lips. He tilted his head up before you could meet them.
“Robby,” you scolded playfully. His beard tickled your fingers as you ran them through.
He smiled down at you, “I just wanna look at you.”
“I’ll be here all night.” You teased, voice breathy as your hands found the scruff of his jaw. When you kissed him again, his arms went around you and lifted you up, carrying you towards the bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your head tucked into his shoulder.
Your back hit the mattress and it felt like the perfect fit. The plush of his comforter molded around your arms and the smell of eucalyptus, wood, and man overtook you. He had a huge, cozy bed, expected of a doctor in his department— you could wonder why he was always so exhausted. You’d trade your cheap queen mattress for the memories you’d have on this foam any day.
Robby settled between your legs, bodies pressed together. You felt him above your jeans, slowly rutting into you just like you wanted. Your legs dangled around his hips automatically, allowing him to get as close to your core as possible. Eagerly, you giggled again as he placed his hands on your hips.
“What’s so funny?” He teased, reaching his head down to nip at your neck again.
You sighed, throwing your head back to give him room, “Need you to touch me.”
Your hands found his sides, grasping at the tense muscles on his back then finding the hem near his hips to slide your hands in. Your fingertips pressed on the soft flesh of him, feeling as he moved against you.
“Where, sweetheart?” His breath made you press up closer to him.
Your breath caught in your throat as his head slowly made its way down. First, the space between your shirt’s neckline and the base of your neck, then the valley between your chest. His right hand ruched up your shirt, the warmth from his hand meeting the chill in your skin. Each beat of your heart sped up as his lips pressed against you.
While doing so, he kneeled against you, keeping his body a distance away from yours. His eyes made their way up you dangerously slow. The space between you felt agonizing as the fabric of his shirt teased your bare stomach.
Attempting to find release for the ache in your core, you pushed yourself down to feel him against you. When his knee dipped into the mattress, your hips bucked upwards on his thigh, like a reflex. A soft sound coming from your mouth, you felt Robby grin against your skin.
He hummed, “I’ll take that as an answer.”
As he drew his head up, you urged him to come closer, pulling him by his back. Your eyes found him in the dim light, pulling his shirt over his head. He seemed to shiver at your touch, fingers finding the surface of his chest before tossing his shirt onto the floor.
Robby followed suit, hands going under your top and pulling it over your head. Humming, you smiled as he sat back, running his hands up and down your torso. He squeezed at your chest and smiled.
You groaned, “Robby,” more annoyed than intended.
“Yeah, baby?” He leaned his head down, body hovering over you once again.
“Taking your sweet ass time, huh?” You mumbled, hands finding the sides of his neck. He shook his head and you could practically feel him roll his eyes.
His hand lightly pushed down on your bare stomach as his fingers searched for the button on your pants. Legs still surrounding his thigh, you squeezed against him as he skimmed your bare waist under the denim.
“Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to move your legs if you want me to touch you.” He chuckled roughly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You obliged, staring up at him while he focused on getting your pants off. When he slipped them off, his fingers skimmed over your lace-clad hipbone, causing you to shudder against him. His head was tilted down, zeroed in on your core.
The wet between your legs gathered when he looked at your face, burning to be acknowledged. There was also a tingling sensation that had been playing on your lips. Desperate to find his, you reached your chin up. Through your underwear, you felt two of his fingers press against you and you pressed up with a quiet moan, taking his mouth to yours. His tongue met yours with a hum and an exhale.
Robby was still on his knees, and his fingers found their way into your panties. Pushing the gusset aside, he slid the wet up and down your folds, causing you to buck your hips up to him. He hadn’t even put any fingers in you yet, but you were so sensitive that anything was enough.
His lips turned sloppy against yours, saliva mixed with whines. Your breath was jagged too, chasing the high he was giving. Your hands splayed around his head, so eager you had no clue if you wanted to push his head closer to yours or hold the nape of this neck, intertwining fingers with his short pieces of hair.
Body attempted to push towards him, only failing when his other hand forced your hips down. Whining, you buried your face into him like you needed everything— lips, tongue, beard, nose, wrinkles and all. Yeah, he was hungry, but you were starving.
His fingers hooked on your panties without disconnecting his face from yours. He pushed them off with the help of your elevated hips, and you kicked them off your legs.
Moaning into his mouth, your hips met his fingers against your entrance. You whined as he stalled just outside. Face pulling away, he smiled at you.
“Eager, are we?” He teased, fingers meeting your puffy clit. He rubbed up and down, gliding around and on it. It was enough pressure for you to grasp at his shoulders.
“Need it so bad, Dr. Robby.” You whined, pushing your hips into the mattress as he went to tease your entrance.
“Fuck,” he groaned quietly, fingers ghosting over you, “Wow.”
Your head fell back and mouth into an O-shape as his fingers slid into you. The gush had you moving your hips into his still fingers. He watched your face as you did so, bringing himself closer to you.
His mouth moved with yours as he rocked his fingers into you. You could gauge his eagerness by how his fingers curled in you, like he wanted to feel all of you. You really squealed when he moved to rub on your clit again, eliciting a chuckle from him.
“Are you gonna finish on my fingers, sweetheart?” Robby teased before you kissed him again with a whine. When his fingers slipped back inside of you, your body met him in the middle with each movement, desperate to get off.
Fingers pumping into you, his thumb found your clit and drove you close to the edge. You threw your head back again as he lifted his. Breaths turned shorter and you clung to his shoulders, one hand making its way to the side of his head.
“Oh, fuck.” You mumbled, hips raising off the bed to meet him. You looked back at him and he had been staring at your face the whole time. The determination in his eyes made you lightheaded. He nodded as he felt you pulse around him, only to speed up.
Your breath hurried as you felt heat bubbling in your core. Your hips locked and sweat grew on your skin, all over your body. Biting down on your lip, you hummed as your hands pressed down on Robby. You grew tight around his fingers and felt yourself gush.
Rutting your hips up to his fingers again, you moaned and exhaled. Hips stalling against him with his eyes on yours. You vibrated under him without proper release, riding the high of his pressure on you. He kept his fingers in you, causing you to pulse with an ah-ah-ah noise leaving your mouth.
Dropping your hips, you felt the wave of release crash over you, sighing with a whine as his fingers slipped out of you. You panted as you watched a smile grow on his face.
Gulping, you pushed your fingers through his short hair and he placed his hand on the outside of your thigh. He squeezed as he dipped his head towards you.
You kissed him slowly this time, fire inside you still burning, skin heated with sweat. Lips moved in sync and it was his turn to groan when your hand reached surfaced over the bulge growing in his pants.
You tugged at his belt buckle, yanking it off and going for the button on his jeans. At the glimpse of his dark blue boxers, you bit your lip. He helped you, pulling his pants and boxers away altogether.
Robby was… Fuck, he was exactly what you expected. Thick, strong, filling… The length of him had already been dripping. He had fallen against your lower abdomen, painting you giddy. You didn’t mean to, but you smiled far too wide as you stared.
“Mmm, I’m excited.” You joked, looking up at him as he squeezed at the plush of your thighs.
“You’re somethin’ else.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he leaned in to kiss you again.
Reaching your hands around his neck, you pressed your hips up to him as he fell between you. Grinding against the wet gathered at your entrance, he groaned into your mouth as he met you in the middle. You felt the friction against your clit as you squeezed your legs around him.
After humming into a kiss, you tilted your head away, “You’re clean, right?” He stalled against you, about to speak, but you cut him off. “Oh, doctor, right. I know…”
“You?” He nodded once, raising himself on his elbows.
“Mhmm,” you ran a hand over his beard and rested it on his shoulder, grinding over the length of him with a heavy breath, “Birth control too. You wanna fuck me raw, Dr. Robby?” You purred, chin tilting up with a smirk.
“Jesus,” he shook his head at you with a smile.
His hand ran up and down the surface of your thigh, coaxing you closer to him. An arm caged around the side of your neck, fingers pushing hair behind your ear. Your knees locking around his waist, he slowly worked his way inside. You reached up for his lips again, smooth surface pressing softly.
His lips felt like silk against yours, smooth sheets against your skin. The roughness of his beard only tickled you, balancing out delicately. The pads of his fingers barely squeezed on you, rather rubbing circles to ease you in.
As he slowly started to fill you in, your breath synced with his. Mouth suddenly still against yours, he panted, peeling himself off your face hesitantly. The wince in his eyes told you everything, crows feet growing beautifully in ecstasy. Fuck was the word, right, but he had started so gentle that maybe there should’ve been a word more lush, tender even.
As he bottomed out, you inhaled sharply, eyes grazing over his face. He stared at you and ran his hand up to your side. Clenching around him, you stayed as still as he did, anticipating, waiting.
He was deliberately slow with it, inching out of you like he was holding himself back. Rocking into you, each drag made you more eager, made you insatiable. His eyes burned into yours, watching your breath catch each slow two-seconds his pelvic bone met yours.
“Robby,” you whispered, his bottom lip hanging off of yours.
Squeezing at your ribs, he sighed, “Yes, sweetheart?”
“C’mon, honey, I’m not gonna break.” You cooed as his forehead rested against yours.
“Yeah?” He mumbled, giving a small kiss to your lips.
You lifted your hips off the bed, begging to meet him in the middle. Hands grasping at his back, you rocked your hips onto him. His breath turned heavy against you as his hand found your waist. Pushes turned to shoves while you prodded him to go harder on you.
“Don’t even need to move, you’ll fuck yourself on me, won’t you?” He rasped into your lips before giving you a bruising kiss.
His hand went heavy on you, pushing your hips down on the bed. You squealed against the kiss as you felt him drive further, faster. Slipping in and out, he huffed as he met your cervix, legs pushing open more for him.
Quickening the pace, he locked you under him. He was more heavy pants and hums than he was grunts or moans. Hips snapping against each other, sweat brewing over your skin, the sound was absurd. Still, his face hung over yours, staring at you in awe.
Blissed out, you panted a mess of noises as he thrusted into you, the bed rocking slightly beneath you. You arched your back, bringing your stomach to meet his and trying to get somewhat closer to his body. Throwing your head back, you shut your eyes as the pressure wound up in you.
Legs reaching up, you locked your ankles behind his back, pulling him further in and earning a heavy shit, sweetheart from him. Chasing your high, you swore you saw stars, pressing your closed eyes tighter.
“C’mon, baby, look at me.” He croaked, muscles tightening. His hand that was on the side of your head moved to grasp your hand, which was intertwined with the sheet.
“Feel so good,” you murmured. Your eyes fluttered open, fingers grasping as they met his hand. Your other hand found the side of his face. “Kiss me. Please.” You nodded your head up, eager to meet his lips in yours.
With the shift of his hips, his mouth caught against yours, a groan falling in between. His pace changed, harder and sloppier, skin meeting with a slap. Tongue intertwined in yours, muffed moans filled the room. Breaths were forgone for the sweetness of his saliva.
Robby noticed the way you squirmed against him, like you were just there. He reached down between you and pressed his fingers to your sweet spot. You started to writhe into him, whining and bucking your hips.
“Oh, my God.” Your hands grasped his as you let out a muffled noise.
“God, if you keep squeezing like that, sweetheart—“ His hips stuttered, feeling you gush around him.
The overwhelming and enduring fire in you reached its crescendo. All of a sudden, the press of his body against you, his hands on you, the light feathering of his body hair over your stomach, and, of course, the absolute jackhammer of him blended like static on your senses. Ringing grew in your ears and with another snap:
“Oh, fuck!” You choked out, throwing your head back on the pillow.
The aftershocks of your climax still rode out as he found his. Your whines and moans filled the room as you let him use you up. Your walls clenching and contracting around him was enough to send him reeling. Hips shuddering, he plunged all the way back in. Everything in him buckled as he twitched and spasmed.
With a few deep jerks, Robby growled into you, “Oh, shit, so fuck–ing perfect. So beautiful, baby. You’re so good for me. Fuck, yes!” Filling you warmly, he went limp with a big exhale.
Panting against him, you kept your fingers intertwined and let him fall onto you. His forehead pressed into the crook of your neck, sweat against sweat. The deadweight of his body felt perfect, trailing the overstimulation of it all. With him still inside of you, you pressed your hand to his back.
Lightheaded, you attempted to catch your own breath, inhaling deeply but lazily. You ran your fingers up and down the slick skin on his back. Mind going numb, you allowed yourself to doze a little, eyes half-lidded.
Huffing, he tilted his head to you, softly pressing a kiss to your temple, “Sorry, sweetheart. Must be crushing you.” He began raising himself on his elbows, ready to roll over to the side of you.
Whining disapprovingly, you pulled him back in, making him rest back on top of you. He followed hesitantly, allowing himself to relax. Your legs stayed wrapped around him, tightly holding him in as he softened.
“M’so sweaty, honey.” He said, face buried into the pillows. “Should clean up.”
“Tired,” you whined again. Sighing, he lifted his head to pepper kisses on your face, cheek, forehead, nose.
“C’mon, don’t want to see you in the emergency room with a UTI.” He mumbled into your skin.
“So dramatic, Dr. Robby.” You rolled your eyes, slipping your hand out of his to wrap around his back. Embracing him, you tucked your head into the opposite crook of his neck. “Let me hold you for a little, please?” You pleaded softly. “Then, we can go clean up.”
Exhaling, Robby collapsed back onto you. He couldn’t even try to fight it if he wanted. He continued pressing tiny pecks into your skin, nipping at your neck and up your jaw.
Eventually, you would get up, but for now, Robby was yours.
The morning slipped in like it had been attached to the night. The sun was hushed behind his curtains and you had woken up slowly and effortlessly. Over the rays that slipped in, you were in one of Robby’s worn shirts— he made some comment that it was definitely older than you. He remained shirtless, chest hair free under the morning light.
You had been facing Robby and his fingers were hanging off your ribs. Head tucked into his chest, you had an arm around the plush of his stomach by default. The snores he let out made you softly chuckle, unaware of how you possibly slept through it.
Turning away from Robby, you rolled onto your stomach, checking your phone for any morning notifications. You heard him shift next to you, the bed dipping slightly behind you.
He rolled over with a rasped “Morning, sweetheart.”
His hand surfaced over your back, under the shirt, like he was searching for something. With a tired sigh, his lips found your spine, kissing from the base of your neck slowly to the dip in your waist. The touch made you shiver against the sheets and gravitated you towards him.
“You’re addicted to that thing.” He mumbled, his breath and the movement of his lips causing you to flinch a little. He tapped your hip with his hand, as if trying to catch your attention. The ghost of his mouth faded on your back as he fell back into his former position.
Dropping your phone back on the nightstand, you rolled over to meet him in the middle of the bed. With a smile, you pressed your hands against his bare chest and found his lips to meet yours. It felt nicer in the daylight somehow, the sunrays peeking through the window to coat the lines on his face. The plush on his lips were somehow rougher, waiting to be broken in for the day.
“Happy?” You said, running your hand over the side of his beard. Your face was only a distance away from his and your body had leaned off his side. He hummed as you pressed another delicate kiss on his lips.
You pulled yourself onto his hips, so you could feel your body flush against his. He let out a slight hum at the feeling of your skin pressed together. His hands went to your lower back, grasping to feel you closer.
“Do you wanna go to that diner for breakfast?” You pressed another kiss on his lips as you rested your arms around his head. You shifted yourself on his hips, feeling the morning greet you.
“Mhmm,” Robby nodded, but it seemed like he hadn’t really heard you. He ran his hand over your hair, letting you lazily grind over him.
You hummed, “Found out I have to go to work tonight.”
“Leavin’ me on my day off?” He mumbled, hands resting on the underside of your thighs as he pressed a kiss onto your cheek.
“It’s just later tonight. You’ll survive.” You teased, fingers playing with his hair.
“Better make the rest of the day, then.” He said before reaching his head up to sweep you into a deeper kiss. You giggled as his hands went under your (his) shirt to pull it off.
The next morning, Jack had called Robby into the ED, although he wasn’t meant to work at all that day. With Shen on vacation, he assumed he could handle it. Apparently, patients started piling up, and there was a crisis downtown— something about a bar fight, Robby wasn’t exactly sure.
As Robby made his way in around four, Jack patted him on the back, “God, am I glad to see you, brother.”
They walked towards central, Robby looking around at the chaos flooding into the walkways. “Jesus, what’s going on?”
“Huge bar fight from the Strip District. Mostly bruises, cuts, and fractured bones, but we have one in trauma with a stab wound, about to be transferred to the OR.” Jack explained. “Everyone got in around three-thirty, so all of the beds are full now.”
“When are they not?” They approached central and Robby nodded at Lena.
Jack nudged his head over to Trauma One, and Robby followed. Peeking inside, he saw a larger man on the table with an ice pick sticking out of his side and a gash across his arm. Walsh and Donnie were over him, observing and checking his vitals.
“What happened there?” Robby asked, folding his arms.
“Someone at the bar got creative. We don’t have a full story yet.” Jack continued walking down, towards the other rooms and beds. “The police are on their way, but I don’t think anyone will get arrested.”
“Why?”
“Ever seen Coyote Ugly?” Jack raised an eyebrow.
“Yes…” Robby nodded slowly as Jack gestured down the walkway.
Robby looked to the curtains that were crowded with girls in sequins, glitter, leather party clothes, some with blood staining them.
“You chipped my fuckin’ tooth!” One of the girls in a wheelchair, who had a towel over her mouth, yelled across the way.
“It was an accident, bitch!” The other girl was on a bed, her foot elevated and a bruise on her cheek.
The area was overflowing. Girls chattering and girls half-asleep, there was even a couple arguing in one of the rooms. Robby had experienced bar fights coming in before, but it was always a bunch of beer-bellied guys or boyfriends defending their masculinity. He toed his way over, eyes roaming the area for a quick survey.
“Fuck, boss, do you think we’ll get fired?” One of the girls, who had some cuts on her legs and a black eye, called from one of the beds. She was being treated by Mateo.
“No way,” That was your voice, one that Robby had to second guess because why the hell would you be here?, “If Gustav wants to fire you guys, he’s gonna have to go through me first. Besides, though, you guys gotta stop bringing boyfriends into the bar.”
Swiftly, Robby turned on his heel, spotting you slumped over in a chair. By one of the beds, you had a bruise on your cheekbone, one on your knee, and a gauze wrapped around your right hand. You were in knee-high boots and possibly the most revealing outfit he’d ever seen you in. You leaned on your non-gauzed hand with a furrow in your brow. He called your name, rushing over.
Alarmed, you sat up with your eyes wide, “Robby.”
“Sweetheart,” his voice turned soft, concerned. He came to your side, kneeling next to the chair, and, immediately, you felt your face burn up.
“Fuck.” You pressed your left hand to your forehead, shutting your eyes. “This is so embarrassing.”
The girls who had been arguing across from you chirped up:
“Damn,” Kelly, a broken ankle propped on the bed, cursed your name, “Is this your man?”
“Who else would she be cooking all that food for?” Chris responded, lowering the towel from her bleeding mouth.
“In such a good mood. No wonder she started tipping out.” Jenna, in the bed beside you, joked with a shake of her head. “Been getting it good, huh, boss?” She pinched your elbow teasingly, which made you wince.
“Ignore them.” You rolled your eyes, flitting your hand at them. You looked at him, “I thought you weren’t working today.”
“I got called in. What the hell happened?” Robby took your gauzed hand in his, examining where your palm had been cut. What he couldn’t see was Jack, who had been peering over from across the hallway. A soft eyebrow raised in interest, and a sharp inhale, this is why Robby had been so nice and calm and easygoing.
“Uh,” you looked around, and all eyes were on you, “Can we talk… privately?” He nodded slowly, standing and helping you up. You winced at his action and mumbled, “I’m fine.”
Making your way a distance from the curtains, the girls resumed their chatter, now diminished to hushed whispers. Robby walked beside you, hand still holding yours. Landing somewhere by Pedes, Robby folded his arms in front of you.
He furrowed his eyebrows concernedly, “I heard the police got involved? What’s going on, sweetheart?”
“A bunch of tourists came in tonight and got fucking sloshed.” You sighed, “I had it under control until one of them thought it was a good idea to try to grab Kelly off the bar—”
“Why was she on the bar?” He jutted his head out, now even more worried.
“Nevermind that.” You shook your head. “His group thought it was funny to harass the other girls as well.” You gestured to the curtains. “Bella was getting felt up by some asshole, and, for some reason, her stupid fucking boyfriend showed up.
“He got crazy possessive about her and broke out into some animalistic aggression? I don’t know,” you spoke frantically and defensively, like you were in trouble with your parents, “he started howling and swinging at the tourists. Long story short, it gave everyone else an excuse to fight.”
“Okay…” He nodded slowly, then tapped at the gauze on your hand. “Doesn’t explain this.” You shook your head as your eyes caught the man who was being wheeled out of Trauma. His eyes softened, “Oh.”
“His stupid friends fled before the cops came.” You turned back to Robby, “I just wanted to protect my girls.”
“Uh, huh.” He saw the panic in your eyes settle when he nodded.
“I had it under control. We didn’t need to come here.” You reasoned with an exhale.
“But I’m glad you did.” He placed a hand on your bicep, attempting to be supportive. You dropped your shoulders when he did, unaware you had been anxious.
“There’s, uh… Something else.” You mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear out of stress.
“Tell me.” Robby spoke softly, hand rubbing up and down your arm.
“Half these girls don’t have health insurance, the other half are still on their parents’.” You exhaled, like you had been holding a weight in your chest. “I really didn’t wanna take them to the ER, but someone called the cops.” You explained to Robby with a hand pressed to your forehead.
“Okay,” he sighed, “You can talk to our case manager, Noelle Hastings, and she’ll discuss some options with you.”
“She’s not gonna tell me anything I don’t already know. Can we wipe this from the record, call it a… write-off or something?” You neared Robby, able to lean towards him.
He mumbled your name, “I… Since there’s probably been a police report, it’s already on the record. Please, just talk to Noelle. She can help.” You shut your eyes with an exhale and let out a soft okay. “I’ll have them send her down.” He patted your arm, taking you closer to him.
“Thanks,” you whispered, although you weren’t really sure what for. He pressed a kiss onto your forehead before leading you back to the curtains.
After having talked to the cops, the woman identified as Noelle made her way over to you. She was long legs, shiny black heels, a proper navy pantsuit, and luscious black hair in a half up-half down. An older lady, her wrinkles were a testament to her grooming, beautiful around her eyes and complimenting her smile.
“Hi, I’m Noelle Hastings, the case manager here at PTMC.” She greeted as you stood up, one hand clutching a tablet. Her eyes glazed over your outfit as she chuckled, “Looks like someone had quite the night.”
Following her off to Central, you realized you felt silly around her. She had been so professional, and half the surface of your skin met the cold air conditioning of the emergency department, hair slightly messy from the fight. You never shivered, though, standing up straight in front of Noelle.
You laughed awkwardly, attempting to pull down the little fabric you had around your hips, “Um, I assume you’re caught up on the circumstances.”
“Yes,” She nodded once, her eyes crinkling as she exhaled. “Some of these are quite a hefty bill for those uninsured. They are all technically work-related injuries, so I suggest talking to your boss about worker’s comp when you can.”
“Okay,” you shrugged, then looked away, “Shit, I don’t know if my boss will go for that.”
“Well, another option is financial assistance from the hospital. If some of them fall under certain income limits, they could qualify for Charity Care and PTMC will cover it.” She explained delicately, like she knew you were on edge.
“How can we…” You looked back at her, who had a concerned look for you. “How can we check?”
“I can talk to the girls about their income, if that’s okay with them,” she offered supportively, "Then, we can move forward with some forms and things.”
“Everything okay here?” You heard Robby’s voice trickle in, coming to stand beside you. He looked to Noelle for an answer, who had made dreamy-eyes at him when he stepped forward. If she hadn’t calmed your nerves, you wouldn’t have noticed.
You recognized the glint in her eye, a narrow like there was a secret you weren’t in on and a smirk on her face. The friendly smile on her face only grew into something more… suggestive?
“Yes, I briefed her on our options.” Noelle nodded. With you still there, girlish youth grew on her face, suddenly lit up and hopeful with a little bit of desperation. She took a step forward, “Dr. Robby, if I could just—“
“Great,” Robby nodded like he hadn’t heard her. You looked between them, inquisitive and a little entertained. Ready to walk away, his hand skimmed over yours as he looked at you, “Did you need anything from me?”
Receptive, your hand wrapped around his and gave a squeeze, “No. Thanks, honey.”
He nodded again, a bashful smile playing at his lips before he trailed off. You watched him walk away, biting at the inside of your cheek to stop a proud smile from coming about.
Turning back, you nodded at Noelle, “Thank you again.”
You began to walk away, then her voice stopped you.
“Do you, uh,” she started, the veil of professionalism faltering for just a moment through her curious eyes, “Do you know Dr. Robinavitch?”
“We’re…” You stopped yourself, then cleared your throat, “Why?”
She looked away and exhaled a little, “Oh, nothing… Just—”
“We’re neighbours.” You grinned with the tilt of your head, unintentionally fishing for more information. It wasn’t technically a lie, but it definitely wasn’t what she was asking.
“He just, uh,” She shook her head, then looked back up, “Kinda dropped out a few months ago.”
“You mean he… ghosted you?” You slowly nodded understandingly.
Could’ve been. That’s what Noelle was. In all her polished and experienced beauty, Robby had led her on. Why he let such a woman get away was beyond you. And maybe it was self-centred to think so, but the timeline had lined up to when you landed on Robby’s front steps.
She was older than you, more mature, no doubt. You were practically in shiny underwear in front of her with big lashes and glittery lip gloss, looking like some little aspiring cosmetologist’s fucked up Barbie doll.
“God, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” She muttered, more to herself than to you. Her hand moved to cover her face slightly, embarrassment blooming on her cheeks. In this state, she was another girl just like you, confidence faltering over this old man.
“No,” you shook your head supportively, then offered playfully, “didn’t really know a 50 year old man could have a situationship.”
“Stupid, right?” Noelle shrugged, rolling her eyes. Removing her hand from her face while flicking her hair away, she scoffed, “Guess I just thought we had something real. Jokes on me for trying something with a man so lonely.”
You chuckled at her honesty, “Happens to the best of us.”
With a pressed smile, she nodded, “I’ll go speak to the girls now.”
“Of course,” You affirmed as she trailed off.
A few hours after the whole bar fight party had been discharged and everyone was slowly getting caught up, Jack stopped by at Central, where Robby had been finishing up some charts.
Knocking on the counter, Jack nodded, “How’s it going?”
“About ready to head home.” Robby sighed, tilting his glasses down to look at Jack.
“What, uh…” Jack leaned over the surface, an amused smile growing on his face, “What’s going on with the fighter from earlier?”
Robby laughed to himself, leaning over the desk like he and Jack were two girls at a sleepover, “The fighter?” He mocked, raising an eyebrow innocently.
“You know, the leader in that tiny skirt…” Jack teased, watching Robby’s expression soften, “What’s going on there?”
“Uh, she moved in next door a few months ago,” Robby shook his head bashfully, “We became friends pretty quickly, and, uh… you know.”
“I know? What are you, a teenager?” Jack scoffed playfully.
“I don’t know what you want from me, man.” Robby smiled, tilting his head, “It’s new.”
“That’s where all your free time has been going, then?”
“Sorry I don’t want to play pickleball on my Sundays.” Robby joked, logging out and rolling his eyes. He stood from his chair, reaching for his jacket, which rested on the back of it.
“Young thing.” Jack commented, standing up straight. “Is this the one packing your lunches?”
Sighing, Robby slipped on his jacket, “Leftovers from dinner.”
“I’m happy for you, man.” With the pat of his back, he tilted his head up and joked, “Careful with that one, though. She’s feisty.”
“Yeah, I should get home, check on her.” Robby laughed with the shake of his head. “Shouldn’t even be working right now.”
Jack rolled his eyes, “Alright, Chief.”
Upon coming home, Robby saw you where he usually did, on your stoop with a cigarette and your cell phone. You had swapped your sequined halter for your big hoodie, and your legs stayed bare on the stairs, pulled to your chest and feet in slippers. Your nails tapped on your screen frantically, but your face stayed straight, eyes drooping tiredly.
“Hey, killer.” He said, making his way over to you.
You tried to laugh but it came out as a small huff, “Hey, Hospital Heartbreaker.”
He chuckled as he sat beside you, shaking his head, “That’s a new one.”
“That, uh,” you gestured the cigarette to him, which he declined, “case manager…” You raised an eyebrow playfully as he nodded. “I was right about you.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled, sitting back. He was close enough that his scrub bottoms were flush against the skin of your thigh. “Wasn’t serious. It was before… you.”
“Does she know that?” You chuckled with a draw of the cigarette.
Robby tilted his chin at you, “How are you doing?”
“Seen worse days.” You tilted your head at him with a lopsided smile. “Should’ve seen the other guy.”
He nodded his head slowly, “I did.”
“Is he gonna be okay?” You asked, more out of curiosity than concern, eyes trailing to the street..
“I… don’t know.” He exhaled.
“Hope not, that bastard deserves jail time.” You hissed half-jokingly, taking another drag of your cigarette and blowing it in the opposite direction.
Robby cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, “I didn’t know your job was so… dangerous.”
“Yeah.” You shrugged, like it was the most simple thing in the world.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” His eyebrows knit together, genuine concern brewing in him. He looked at you in confusion, eyes uneasy as he waited patiently for a response.
“I don’t know…” You offered hesitantly, “I thought you’d…”
“Care?”
“I don’t know what I thought. I’m just a private person, I guess.” You shrugged dismissively, turned away from him at this point. “Working at a club isn’t uncommon.”
You didn’t mean to be so defensive, but you never thought your worlds would collide the way it did. You never intended to take Robby seriously until you realized how much you actually liked him.
With a final puff of the cigarette, you said, “My last boyfriend was a detective. He kinda… had a thing for being invasive about my job, then our relationship turned into a sting operation. It was a whole thing.” You swatted your hand in the air tiredly.
“Didn’t take you for one with crazy exes.” He joked, but you couldn’t even smile.
“Sammy’s not crazy… he’s just,” you shook your head, unsure why you even bothered to bring it up, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter anymore.”
Robby watched as you tapped the ashes off the cigarette and reached to put it out on the ground. His eyes softened when you looked at him.
“Well, I’d like you to stay safe.” He said, like it was a suggestion, medicine for whatever illness the night gave you. “And I want to know what’s going on with you. I don’t want to hover, just want you to come home in one piece.” His hand found the side of your face, urging you to lean into him.
“Home.” You repeated with a nod, like it was an epiphany.
“Yeah.” He smiled.
“What, are you my boyfriend now?” You teased, nudging his knee with yours.
“Boyfriend,” he repeated, like he was trying it on for size, running a thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah…”