Chapter Text
And then, nothing.
Well, not nothing, Jack will concede. Far from nothing.
They’re friends.
Bitty finds him one evening and gently asks him to stop with all the gifts and Jack can’t say no to his determined face so the kitchenware stops.
They’re drinking at their favourite bar one night when Jack confesses his Ransom and Holster and Bitty misunderstanding which leads to a slightly embarrassing conversation where Jack learns that whilst that had been the case for a while, it certainly wasn’t any more. This in turn leads Jack to blushing every time the four of them hang out for the next two months. He’s an artist; he has a vivid imagination.
They meet up for dinner occasionally, just the two of them, but they aren’t dating.
Jack brings it up once and Bitty just looks at him, puzzled and explains “you kept pushing me away and then you couldn’t ask. It doesn’t fill me with a huge amount of confidence, Jack.”
It stings to hear it but, deep down, he knows it’s true: he’s never shown any sign that he’s capable of an actual adult relationship.
Bitty smiles at him, wistful. “I think we might have got our timing wrong, Mr Zimmermann.”
Jack swallows the sour taste in his mouth and nods. “Friends, then?”
Bitty breathes out a small, sad chuckle. “Well, of course. We’re there already.”
They’re friends.
-
Jack is half asleep as he tries to fit his key into the lock on his front door. “Just open, you motherfucker,” he mutters as he kicks at the door. It’s 3am, it’s humid and he can feel sweat sliding down his back and he’s been traveling for nineteen hours. “I’ll turn you into firewood, asshole,” he grumbles as he kicks the door again and finally manages to successfully gain entry to his home. It’s been two months of jobs everywhere but Providence. Jack likes visiting new places and he loves his job but the final leg of the journey, Dubai to home with layovers, was just awful.
He doesn’t even bother turning on the lights, just dumps his bags by the door and heads straight to the kitchen for some water before going to bed. He’s finishing off the second glass of water when he notices a container on his kitchen table. He opens it and it is full of thick, chewy oatmeal raisin cookies. He feels a little spark of hope start burning in his chest. And, now that he looks for it, there’s a loaf of bread on his counter, milk in his fridge, a fruit bowl he’s never seen before is filled to the brim.
He’s too tired to think too deeply about what this means now so strips out of his stale and uncomfortable clothes on his way to the bedroom. His bedroom window has been opened so the room doesn’t seem as stuffy as it usually does when he gets back from travel. He definitely didn’t make up his bed that neatly before he left.
He allows himself a moment to grin before climbing into bed and falling into a deep sleep.
-
Eric’s finished class and is walking with Leo to the bus stop when hears someone calling his name.
He turns and sees Jack jogging up to him, hair slicked back and dressed much more formally than Eric can ever remember seeing him. He turns back to Leo. “D’you mind if I . . .?” He gestures to Jack. Leo just laughs at him and keeps walking to the bus.
Jack pulls up right next to Eric and pulls him into a hug. “Hi, Bitty,” he mumbles and Eric bites his lip to try and contain his grin. Eric commits to the hug wholeheartedly.
“Hi, Jack.”
“I’m back.” Jack smiles at him, and Eric can feel giddiness building in his chest.
“I can see! And looking very dapper!” Eric decides to throw his last specks of dignity away and looks Jack up and down meaningfully. “Important meeting?”
Jack nods. “Very important. There’s someone I need to impress.”
They are both grinning at each other and, for a moment, Eric reflects on how ridiculous they must appear to all the people passing them by: two grown men, standing in the middle of the footpath, grinning at each other and saying nothing.
Jack cocks his head to the side and his expression turns very serious. “Bitty . . . Eric, I need a recommendation, please. For this meeting.” Eric feels a burst of panic that maybe he’s misunderstood what’s happening here. “If you had to choose the perfect location in this city for someone to,” he hesitates, takes a deep breath, “declare their feelings - romantic type feelings - to someone who they are worried is no longer interested in them, um, where would you suggest?”
Eric looks at this man and thinks - about how they’ve been orbiting each other for the best part of a year and how, inadvertently, their lives have become intertwined to the point of having keys for each other’s homes and knowing each other’s preferred routes around the grocery store and texting each other in the middle of the night to discuss the podcasts that they’ve recommended to each other - and thinks yes .
Jack is still waiting for his answer so Eric schools his face into the most serious expression he can muster. “Well, Mr Zimmermann, if the timing was right, I don’t think the location is really that important.”
-
Jack is actually shocked at how calm he feels. He nods again and considers how best to follow on from Eric’s response.
“So, is there any particular time that would be best for that kind of statement?”
He watches as Eric pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. “Personally, I think mid-afternoon works. Say, anytime between 3:35 and 3:38.”
“I see,” Jack says as he glances down to check his watch, “so, anytime now, really?”
Eric is biting back a smile and Jack can feel his own face breaking into a grin again. He looks back at his watch, holds it up for Eric to see the time again.
“Eric Bittle, I spent most of my income on baking tools, I assumed you were in a relationship with your neighbours, I did my best to ignore your blatant flirting and I had some pretty inappropriate thoughts about you when I was editing images from your shoot. Despite all of this, you still left me cookies.” He grabs Eric’s hand. “Please let me take you out.”
Eric raises his eyebrows. “Just so we’re clear, on a date, yes?”
Jack gives a small laugh. “Yes, on a date.”
Eric’s whole face lights up. He nods. Jack tries to suppress a shiver as Eric runs his one of his hands along the sleeve of his suit jacket. “I like that you dressed up.”
Jack thinks yes .