had to get this out. thinking of them again. told you i had a soft spot!! a bobby&abby moment the next day, implied buck/bobby
Bobby’s doing paperwork about all the babies being born.
Technically, he’s waiting on broth to boil for the egg-drop soup he’s making. Stocky, hearty, and easy to reheat when he takes the leftovers home. To – well, he’ll say it – home to where there’s a partially naked 26 year old drooling on his scratchy sheets, well fucked and exhausted with it, loose on the inside and massaged with coconut oil on the outside (he pulled it from Bobby’s cabinet – so it’s food safe, Buck said). Waiting for him. And food. And his cock.
The night’s been a total conundrum – there for one expected mother and left with three new lives behind them. The mom sent to the hospital made it out of labor with little intervention, and right now he’s scratching out the women’s information and trying not to flag when he writes the name Robert Carhart. Not named after him, promise. Thank God.
Buck would have loved it – tripped through the whole night like the other probie did, probably would have called out his own name as a suggestion. Two of them were boys. Wouldn’t that be something. A Bobby and a Buck right next to each other. He’ll have to tell Buck about this when he gets home – moves faster at the thought, scribbles out baby Carhart’s dimensions and pulls out his phone to get the notes on Hen and Chim’s night.
He’s got a text from Buck. It’s a fuzzy picture of instant oatmeal in a plastic bowl pushed against his face, a wide boyish smile crinkling everything from a drastically high angle. He’s a little red, looks almost winded. Bobby presses the notification to get a better look and –
Yup, his dick and balls are out in the kitchen.
“Bobby!”
He shoots up, slams his phone face down on the table with a quick press to the power button. “Abby!”
Abby’s in her dispatch polo. Judging from the drop of coffee stains down her side and her frizzy hair, she’s just got off a shift. Full moon and all that, she looks better for wear than some of his men.
“Hi! Wow, I just –“ she waves her forearms around in circles in front of her and he approaches her with a hand out, “well, Chimney and Henrietta worked a call with me tonight, sort of, I came by to thank them for everything.” She pats her pocket. “Can’t go wrong with a coupon for donuts.”
“That’s the truth,” chuckles like he knows it or something.
“Yeah,” she shifts a shoulder so some of her hair falls forward. He wasn’t lying – she’s pretty and easy to talk to, competent on the other side of his radio, caring. Buck’s an open book, and well…given a little more time, maybe some growing on Buck’s end, and it could have worked out that way. “Hey, do you know where I can find Buck?”
“Oh, sleeping. I gave him the day off. Apparently he had a busy night.” Bobby pulls his belt up a little at that. Peacocking. Pea-cocking – he’s gotta rush home the second his shift over. Buck’s waiting on the soup. And his cock.
Abby sighs. “You probably heard about it, then.”
“He did mention something about a…buttered roll?”
“Oh, gosh,” head in her hands. “Worst date in the world.”
He quips back, little inflection of malic and a double entendre that drags her head up with a playful groan and a swat at his shoulder.
“Do you, um, do you know – like, where he is? I drove by his place and his jeep wasn’t there…” she peers over the railing. Chimney turns quickly and marches to the ambulance. “And no offense, it’s very nice to see you again, and maybe don’t tell Henrietta I said this. I kinda came here for Buck, though.” Looks back at him with her nose scrunched up as she says it.
Bobby puts a hand in the air, opposite the slight smirk in his smile. “Don’t have to convince me about that. He’s at m-uhh,” his air of confidence flies out of him quickly, straining, “mmmmmy. Uh. Myy – “ oh he could really do with an alarm right now.
Abby’s nodding along, eyebrows disappearing into her glasses as she follows his stuttering. “He’s at…your place? Sleeping?” He nods back, numb. “So he left our date early to go stay with you…?” She’s looking him up and down and he’s fighting off something on his tongue, something mean about how he said he wanted to stay there forever when he felt the water pressure, said it through garbled little moans while Bobby cleaned him up after a post-shift fuck that left them seeing the same stars.
The alarm goes off, blessed be.
He puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll tell him to call you, Abby.” Pats it and brushes past her, twists off the oven, and flies away. “It was good to see you, really.”
He’s halfway down the stairs when she calls out to him, bites her lip and tucks an incredibly thick chunk of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be waiting for it.”
Shoots her a thumbs up. There’s a little nic along the pad of it, dull and thinly healed over.
Re: FILL: Anyone in the world and you’re here? part 2
a bobby&abby moment the next day, implied buck/bobby
Bobby’s doing paperwork about all the babies being born.
Technically, he’s waiting on broth to boil for the egg-drop soup he’s making. Stocky, hearty, and easy to reheat when he takes the leftovers home. To – well, he’ll say it – home to where there’s a partially naked 26 year old drooling on his scratchy sheets, well fucked and exhausted with it, loose on the inside and massaged with coconut oil on the outside (he pulled it from Bobby’s cabinet – so it’s food safe, Buck said). Waiting for him. And food. And his cock.
The night’s been a total conundrum – there for one expected mother and left with three new lives behind them. The mom sent to the hospital made it out of labor with little intervention, and right now he’s scratching out the women’s information and trying not to flag when he writes the name Robert Carhart. Not named after him, promise. Thank God.
Buck would have loved it – tripped through the whole night like the other probie did, probably would have called out his own name as a suggestion. Two of them were boys. Wouldn’t that be something. A Bobby and a Buck right next to each other. He’ll have to tell Buck about this when he gets home – moves faster at the thought, scribbles out baby Carhart’s dimensions and pulls out his phone to get the notes on Hen and Chim’s night.
He’s got a text from Buck. It’s a fuzzy picture of instant oatmeal in a plastic bowl pushed against his face, a wide boyish smile crinkling everything from a drastically high angle. He’s a little red, looks almost winded. Bobby presses the notification to get a better look and –
Yup, his dick and balls are out in the kitchen.
“Bobby!”
He shoots up, slams his phone face down on the table with a quick press to the power button. “Abby!”
Abby’s in her dispatch polo. Judging from the drop of coffee stains down her side and her frizzy hair, she’s just got off a shift. Full moon and all that, she looks better for wear than some of his men.
“Hi! Wow, I just –“ she waves her forearms around in circles in front of her and he approaches her with a hand out, “well, Chimney and Henrietta worked a call with me tonight, sort of, I came by to thank them for everything.” She pats her pocket. “Can’t go wrong with a coupon for donuts.”
“That’s the truth,” chuckles like he knows it or something.
“Yeah,” she shifts a shoulder so some of her hair falls forward. He wasn’t lying – she’s pretty and easy to talk to, competent on the other side of his radio, caring. Buck’s an open book, and well…given a little more time, maybe some growing on Buck’s end, and it could have worked out that way. “Hey, do you know where I can find Buck?”
“Oh, sleeping. I gave him the day off. Apparently he had a busy night.” Bobby pulls his belt up a little at that. Peacocking. Pea-cocking – he’s gotta rush home the second his shift over. Buck’s waiting on the soup. And his cock.
Abby sighs. “You probably heard about it, then.”
“He did mention something about a…buttered roll?”
“Oh, gosh,” head in her hands. “Worst date in the world.”
He quips back, little inflection of malic and a double entendre that drags her head up with a playful groan and a swat at his shoulder.
“Do you, um, do you know – like, where he is? I drove by his place and his jeep wasn’t there…” she peers over the railing. Chimney turns quickly and marches to the ambulance. “And no offense, it’s very nice to see you again, and maybe don’t tell Henrietta I said this. I kinda came here for Buck, though.” Looks back at him with her nose scrunched up as she says it.
Bobby puts a hand in the air, opposite the slight smirk in his smile. “Don’t have to convince me about that. He’s at m-uhh,” his air of confidence flies out of him quickly, straining, “mmmmmy. Uh. Myy – “ oh he could really do with an alarm right now.
Abby’s nodding along, eyebrows disappearing into her glasses as she follows his stuttering. “He’s at…your place? Sleeping?” He nods back, numb. “So he left our date early to go stay with you…?” She’s looking him up and down and he’s fighting off something on his tongue, something mean about how he said he wanted to stay there forever when he felt the water pressure, said it through garbled little moans while Bobby cleaned him up after a post-shift fuck that left them seeing the same stars.
The alarm goes off, blessed be.
He puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll tell him to call you, Abby.” Pats it and brushes past her, twists off the oven, and flies away. “It was good to see you, really.”
He’s halfway down the stairs when she calls out to him, bites her lip and tucks an incredibly thick chunk of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be waiting for it.”
Shoots her a thumbs up. There’s a little nic along the pad of it, dull and thinly healed over.
Buck’s doing – twerp.