jackabbot | 2001 AU

Entry tags:

robby

2001 AU

He’d gotten his orders two weeks ago, but he’d known they were coming down the pipe since September 11. The country was at war again and war meant casualties. Casualties meant medics and that meant deployment orders for one Sergeant Jack Abbot among countless others. He’d been given a week of preparation leave, which he was supposed to use to go visit his family and wrap things up, but there wasn’t a lot of family he wanted to visit and not much to wrap up. He didn’t even have a dog.

Instead he booked a flight to Seattle. If anyone asked, he said it was because Seattle was cold and rainy and he thought he was going to be short on cold and rain for a while, or at least rain. Afghanistan and Iraq could get really fucking cold in the winter. He knew that from the stories people told about the Gulf War. He ought to call it the first Gulf War now, he guessed.

He’d actually chosen Seattle because he’d texted Robby “just to check in” as soon as he’d gotten his orders and Robby had mentioned that he’d be at the ACEP annual assembly in Seattle this week. They’d seen each other several times after Jack’s first trip to New Orleans, but then he’d PCSed from Polk and their relationship had dwindled to text messages and emails, all of which were carefully written so that he was friendly but not too friendly, in case anyone ever saw something. Even still, if Jack was going to the other side of the planet and potentially (maybe even probably) not coming back, he wanted to see Robby again. He’d told Robby he’d be visiting Seattle at the same time and just left out the part where he made his travel arrangements after he’d talked to Robby.

He had a room at a hotel near the convention center and its hotels but not too near, and he had arranged to meet Robby in a bar that was between the convention center and Jack’s hotel. They tended to meet in bars since it was a completely public and defensible place to be, even if they didn’t always stay in the bar.

He was sitting in a booth this time instead of on a barstool, turning a beer bottle in his hands and waiting for Robby. He was late. Jack wondered if Robby would actually show or if this whole trip had been a stupid idea.

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"Yeah, ready," says Robby, shrugging into the denim jacket that he'd thrown on over t-shirt and dark jeans. They fall into step like that haven't been apart for years. Robby shoves both hands into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid.

“Hey thanks. You didn’t forget I’m shorter than you,” Jack teased. Robby had always been willing to adjust his steps for Jack’s height. Not everyone did, and some deliberately didn’t because it was some kind of masculinity crap. Jack thought all of that shit was stupid.

“The hotel’s just a couple blocks this way. Rock paper scissors on who buys the booze and who goes to the pharmacy?”

Two dudes could buy a bottle of liquor together without raising eyebrows. Two dudes could not buy a condoms and lube together, especially if one of them was also holding a bottle of booze.

"Sure," says Robby, taking one hand out of his pocket. He's fine with whichever option, honestly. As long as he gets to make use of both condoms and liquor at some point in the next forty eight hours.

He goes paper. He always does.

Jack usually chose rock and he did in this case too, which lost, so he made an exaggerated face.

“You win. Your call which one you do and I’ll handle the other one. If you take the liquor store, though, no vodka.”

Very bad vodka had been the reason they’d realized they wanted each other in the first place, or at least decided to do something about it, but Jack still avoided that shit in memory of the hangover the next day.

"I'll get the liquor," he says, because it's going to cost more than the trip to the pharmacy. " It'll get decent beer and a good bottle of bourbon or something. For old time's sake."

“Bourbon’s a good call,” Jack agreed. “You won’t have to pay so much for it either. Well, hopefully not, anyway.”

He still didn’t know what Robby had paid for his smuggled bourbon and he didn’t want to know. Robby probably didn’t want to remember either.

The pharmacy was first, so Jack motioned to it.

“You got any preferences for what I pick up?”

There was no one around them, so he could ask if Robby cared about brands or whatnot. Jack didn’t — most of the time his condoms came from the US Government. They had a vested interest in their soldiers not coming down with the clap.

Robby shakes his head. It's taking everything in him not to touch Jack, right then. He managed to keep himself from doing it though.

"I trust your judgement," he said, grinning. "Just make sure you stock up, soldier."

Jack raised one eyebrow at that insinuation, but he didn’t think Robby was wrong. They were probably going to fuck in as many ways as possible as many times as possible in the next couple of days. \ It’d be something good to remember in the middle of the suck.

“Roger that,” he agreed, and headed into the pharmacy. There were any number of options, but he just picked up a twelve-pack. If they went through more than that, neither of them would be able to walk easily. He picked up a couple of options for lube and some deodorant, since he really had forgotten to pack that. He also got another toothbrush and some toothpaste in case Robby wanted to brush his teeth at some point. And then at the last moment, he got some granola bars, in case they were hungry but didn’t want to get dressed and leave the hotel room.

The bored-looking clerk didn’t even blink at his assortment of items and double-bagged them for him when he asked nicely. With the double bag, the condom box graphics didn’t show through the plastic.

He left the pharmacy and lit a cigarette while he waited for Robby. For all he knew, Robby had quit, but Jack hadn’t.

In the liquor store, Robby grabs beer and considers for a moment before he buys a mid-price bottle of bourbon. It's probably about as good as the one they drank that first time in Sarajevo, but it costs him about half as much. He grabs bottled water and soda too.

"Okay," he says, walking up behind Jack and maybe leaning up against him for a second. "Good to go."

Robby definitely leaned against him just for one moment, just short enough that no one else would notice but long enough that Jack definitely did. He chuckled out a stream of smoke, then held out the pack of cigarettes in case Robby wanted one.

He glanced down at the plain brown paper bag that Robby was holding and nodded. He could see the neck of a bourbon bottle and a few cans of beers in there, plus water and maybe soda.

“Water, good idea. Gotta stay hydrated. I tell soldiers that all the fuckin’ time, not that they listen to me.”

"Well, don't look at me," says Robby, taking the cigarette and slipping it between his lips, bending his head to light it. "Doctors make terrible patients." He tilts his head. "You going to show me this hotel or not?"

“I’ve heard that,” Jack agreed with a motion of his cigarette in the direction of the hotel before they started walking that way. “I’ll put a doctor up against a brand new arrogant recruit any day for the Terrible Patient Olympics, though. No one can ‘walk off’ a fucking stress fracture.”

The hotel was a mid-range anonymous kind of hotel and Jack took one more drag of the cigarette before he stubbed it out in the ash tray next to the door. He fished in his pocket for the little plastic card that was his hotel key, then held it up between two fingers.

“When I checked in, there was no one at the front desk unless I rang a little bell, so, should be fine, but I have two keys in case you want to go in separately.”

"That...is true."

Robby takes a last drag on his cigarette and then stubs it out. He looks at the key card and then back to Jack.

"Well, that's up to you. Stakes are a whole lot lower for me."
Nobody gives a shit who the new R1 is fucking, as long as he turns up on time and washes his hands.

Jack passed the spare key card over.

“Room 325. I told them I’m a light sleeper, so it’s at the end of the hall down a little corridor next to the housekeeping room. I won’t start taking anything important off till you get up there. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on the opportunity.”

He’d take his jacket off and probably his boots, but unwrapping the present was the best part.

A smile ticks up the corner of his mouth and he takes the keycard, his fingers brushing against Jacks as he takes it. He holds out the paper bag in his arms.

"Take this and I'll give you five minutes?"

“I’ll give you six if you need it,” he joked, then took the booze and headed in.

The elevator was slow, so he just took the stairs and then got into his room. He stripped his jacket off and then looked around the room. He kept his shit neat just as a general rule, so nothing needed to be done. Everything except the condoms went on the desk and then he just took a deep breath.

This was happening. It was real.

Just under five minutes later, Robbie knocks on the door, just to let Jack know that he's there, and then he uses the keycard to let himself into the room. He shuts the door and leans back against it. It's a fairly standard hotel room. It's got a wide double bed and a bathroom and, honestly, that's all they're going to need.

"Hey," he says, smiling. "Doing okay?"

Robby didn’t even take five minutes before there was a soft knock on the door before the door clicked open and he slipped in.

“Weirdly nervous, actually,” Jack admitted, because he could admit this to Robby. It might have started off as just physical and it’d certainly never been exclusive, but they both knew there were some emotions involved here now.

“I didn’t know how tonight was gonna go. I didn’t know if you’d even show up. And you did and now I’m nervous.”

"Yeah?" asks Robby, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the hook next to the door and then crossing the space between them. He feels a flutter of nerves, too, but it doesn't feel like something it would necessarily be useful to admit to Jack, right then. Instead, he steps into Jack's space, hand coming up to cradle the side of Jack's neck, thumb stroking against his skin.

"You don't have to be nervous. I'm right here and I'm going to be here as long as I can."

Jack exhaled when Robby cradled his face so incredibly gently, then leaned up and kissed him. He’d closed the curtains and used a small clip to keep them closed, both for privacy and so he could sleep better if there was light out. Now it meant he wasn’t worried at all about anyone seeing anything.

They were alone, they would be alone all night, and they could do whatever they wanted.

That soft breath out, and the soft kiss that follow it, melt something in Robby's chest. His other arm slips around Jack's waist, pulling him close, but he keeps the kisses gentle and soft. He's thought about this a lot since the last time they saw each other. He intends to make every minute of this count.

They had time. Jack was going to keep reminding himself of that. They could kiss like this for as long as they wanted to, and then when they were done with that they could do other things.

He slid his arms up and around Robby’s shoulders as they traded soft kisses. Robby never seemed to gain weight. He was always long and lean, although there was strength there as well, since he hauled patients around and popped joints back into place.

He'd been telling himself, for years, that he didn't have feelings for Jack Abbot. That that night they'd spent together in his apartment in New Orleans hasn't meant anything. Now, kissing Jack like this, he can feel that he's full of shit.

He slips one hand under the hem of Jack's shirt, pressing his palm against bare skin.

"I missed this," he murmurs. "Fuck. I missed you."

Jack drew a breath when Robby’s hand slipped onto his skin. He curled his hand against Robby’s neck and scratched through the short hairs at his hairline.

He’d felt the same way but hadn’t wanted to say anything in case it seemed too creepy or clingy. This was supposed to just be sex, after all. It just hadn’t stayed that way for him and apparently not for Robby either.

“Same. I don’t fucking care that this can’t be anything the world knows about. I want whatever I can get with you.”

"Whatever it is, we'll make it work," he says, and he means it as a promise. "What do you want first? What have you been thinking about for three years?

More then anything, he wants to make sure that Jack feels good.

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