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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"Still leaves us with the question of round two tonight," he says, curling the fingers of one hand around his own cock and stroking slowly.
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“You wanna get fucked?”
That seemed like a pretty simple solution to the question of Round Two. Jack was sure he’d be better at it now than he had been when they’d done this last. He felt like he was getting pretty good at it by the time he PCS’ed and they had to stop watching Saints games together, but he thought he was even better now.
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They'd tried a lot of different things, back when they were watching all those Saints games. He's more than happy to let Jack choose.
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“How comfortable are the chairs at that conference? Wouldn’t want you to need to sit on a foam donut or anything.”
The question was challenging, but the sentiment was real. He didn’t want Robby to be unable to sit down tomorrow or for him to not want to do anything tomorrow night.
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“On your knees, I think,” he decided. “And I think … I wanna rim you, if you don’t mind.”
He didn’t think Robby would, but it was something he wanted to be sure about.
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"Sounds good to me," says Robby, slipping to the side so he's sitting back on his heels, rather than straddling Jack, his cock still in his hand. "I'm all yours."
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He sat up and leaned over to kiss Robby, just to start with, and slid his hand down to cover Robby's on Robby's dick. He wasn't planning to jerk Robby, but he'd tease a little, maybe. Why not, right? They had time. They had so much time.
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After a little bit of that, he let go of Robby then pushed him down onto his back so he could lean over him and kiss him again. He was keeping his hands in safe places for now, just to tease, even though both of their dicks would definitely have appreciated a little bit of something.
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"Thought you wanted me on my knees," he says, between kisses.
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Jack wasn’t. He’d get Robby on his knees and make it good for him, but teasing his partners was, apparently, one of his kinks. Talking was one of Robby’s, so he pulled back from their kisses and looked down at Robby, sprawled and flushed on the pillows. His lips were a little red and puffy from all the kissing and Jack wasn’t sure exactly what the word ‘debauched’ meant, but this was probably it.
“You need me to fuck you into the mattress sooner rather than later?
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"Maybe I'm the one who needs tying up," he says, rolling his eyes, mostly teasing. "If you're going to keep making me fuckin' wait."
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“Better?” he asked easily, and leaned down to kiss the nape of Robby’s neck.
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"Definitely a start," he says.
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Jack started kissing his way down Robby's spine, slowly and teasingly. Every spinous process of every vertebra got a kiss. When he got to Robby's waist, he stopped.
"You still want my mouth on you?" he said, to confirm before he went any lower. If Robby didn't want to be rimmed, Jack wouldn't do that.
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He didn’t let the kiss go for too long before he moved again and continued his kisses down to Robby’s coccyx, then stopped again and pressed lightly on the back of Robby’s thighs to encourage him to shift them and open himself up.
“Lemme see you.”
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"Like that?"
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“Fuck am I gonna remember this picture later,” he told Robby. He’d been shy about admitting that at first, but he really wasn’t anymore. And he didn’t know how often he was going to have privacy in the future, but he wanted some good memories for those times.
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"Take your time," he says. "Look as much as you want."
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"Jesus. Jack."
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