Entry tags:
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.
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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"Think you'll be up for another round tonight?"
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His dick was still taking a little nap, but it'd perk up if they needed to get something started. He knew that much.
"You have a year left, right? Where're you gonna apply to make the big bucks?"
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"I'm starting to think that I might go home," he says. "Keeping my fingers crossed that something comes up at PTMC - that's the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. That's where I'd like to be." He tilts his head. "You gonna come visit?"
He doesn't see any harm in idly fantasising about a future, even if it's something they can probably never have.
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"Yeah, sure. I'll spend my R&R leave visiting all the beautiful sights of Pittsburgh," Jack replied, but he took some of the snark out of the statement by looking down Robby's body.
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"My tour's supposed to be about a year," he said after another sip of bourbon, partially because he wanted to enjoy the bourbon and partially because booze made this discussion easier. "Fucking joke to call it a 'tour' like I'm gonna be seeing pyramids and shit."
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"So you'll be back around the time I'm starting an attending position," he says. He is not even willing to consider a future when Jack doesn't come home.
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He toasted with his own glass, mostly sarcastically. The first deployments were already in progress, so he was going to see what happened with them before he made any plans for his own R&R.
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The first time, they’d had two hours. In New Orleans, the longest they’d ever had was a night, but mostly it’d been a few hours. Two nights was so much time that he almost didn’t know what to do with that kind of opportunity.
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"Seems like you have a plan already," he pointed out, although he wasn't actually sure Robby did, other than "be close to Jack".
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They were both more relaxed, literally, but he was curious to see if this was going to go anywhere. He could honestly be talked into sleeping, showering, or another round. They had time. They had so much time.
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"And what would you do if I was?"
He didn't know where this was going, but he trusted Robby. If Robby wanted to get a little kinky, Jack was willing to play with that, up to a certain point. He had his own boundaries, but Robby wasn't likely to try any shit that required negotiation without that negotiation in place.
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"Take you apart," he says. "See how much you could take before you were begging me to let you come."
Jack has to have done interrogation training, so maybe Robby would have been on a hiding to nothing there.
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"You didn't already do that?" He definitely remembered asking Robby to fuck him just a few minutes ago, and he hadn't been particularly calm when he did. He hadn't begged, though.
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"Overachiever," he teased. Robby was almost hard against him like he was almost hard against Robby.
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"Sometimes," admits Robby, rolling his hips again,.teasing them both with the friction. It hasn't escaped him that Jack hasn't even tried to break his hold on his wrists.
"Would you let me tie you up?" he asks, not even entirely sure that he wants to, but curious, all the same. "Or a blindfold, maybe."
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“I’ve never done either of those things. Guess I’ve been pretty vanilla, if that’s the right word for that,” he replied. “But … I could do a blindfold. Not sure about tying up. I don’t think I’d like not being able to touch you.”
He hadn’t pulled his wrists away from Robby’s, but they were still teasing. If they really got into it, he’d want to be able to touch Robby.
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"I'd like that," he says. "The blindfold, I think."
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