Chapter Text
Jack noticed that Bittle was giving him the cold shoulder, but he couldn’t figure out why. It had been going on for two months but ultimately came to a head at the field trip. Jack was hurt. He couldn’t find a good time to ask though, as finals were coming up, and then ultimately graduation.
A few students had come up to him during his classes, asking to get their diploma from him, and during the classes he shared with Bittle, they both got requests. Jack noticed that Bittle got a few more. Not the Jack was counting. He wasn’t competitive like that anymore.
On the weekend he invited Shitty over. He needed help figuring out what was up with Bittle, or what problem he had with Bittle or just…. Bittle. Shitty came right away, making a B line for Jack’s couch. Jack brought a couple beers out of the fridge and sat down next to him, offering the beer.
They sat there in silence for a bit, before Shitty cleared his throat.
“What’s up, man? Why’d you call me over? Not like I don’t flourish in your presence, and adore being here,” Shitty said, taking a big sip of his beer.
“Nothing’s up, Shitty. Can’t I just hang out with my best friend?” Jack took a sip from his beer as well, though much smaller. Shitty gave him a look, and Jack sighed. “Fine. There’s just something about Bittle, I can’t quite figure out.”
“Eric? Did he do something?” Shitty set down his beer, turning his full attention to Jack. It would’ve been disconcerting with anyone else, but Shitty always did emotional stuff at 110%, in the same way Jack did everything else 110%.
“No… It’s more about what he didn’t do.” Jack sighed, and Shitty gestured for him to continue. “I think he’s giving me the cold shoulder. We haven’t talked all that much at all, even about our classes.”
Shitty squirmed a little, looking anywhere but Jack. Now this was uncharacteristic of Shitty. Though, as Jack thought about it, it was becoming more and more common. With all of his friends too. Jack put his beer on the coffee table, leaning forward, with his head in his hands.
“Yo, Jack, you alright?” Shitty leaned forward as well, trying to get a look at Jack’s face. Jack sighed and shook his head.
“Just tired, Shits. Don’t worry about it.”
“I will worry about it, because you are my best friend.” Shitty threw an arm around Jack’s shoulders, literally pulling him out of his slumped position. Jack looked at Shitty for a bit, before looking back at the beer, watching the condensation drip down.
“I feel like everyone is doing something behind my back, conspiring against me,” Jack refused to look at Shitty, but could feel him stiffen. It could just be the anxiety talking, but the way his friend was acting was enough to vindicate his suspicions.
“Bro, I’m sorry you’re feeling that way. I’m sure your friends aren’t conspiring against you. Hell, I’m not conspiring against you, on scout’s honor.” Shitty held up a three-finger salute.
“Why the girl scouts’ salute?”
“Brah, the boy scouts are a morally flawed organization. Girl scouts sell cookies and are alright people. I’m more surprised you recognize it,” Shitty said. He picked up his beer again, releasing Jack from his strong hold.
Jack laughed before picking up his own beer again. He still refused to look at Shitty though. How could he, when he was lying to his face?
Jack continued to work with his students, preparing them for their finals, and the seniors for graduation. In his classes he taught with Bittle, he noticed some of the students giving them both sideways glances, and it was enough to keep Jack on edge for the week.
He tried not to take it out on anyone, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was snapping at everyone. He distanced himself from everyone as much as he could, and he and Bittle went from barely talking about work to barely talking at all.
And Jack was miserable . He couldn’t figure it out. Why was he so affected by his interactions, or lack thereof, with Bittle? Why couldn’t he just be excited for the summer coming up in two weeks? He went into the staff lounge with a frown on his face more often than not.
Shitty and Larissa noticed it, but there wasn’t much that they could do for him. They looked like they wanted to say something every time Jack walked into a room, but ultimately they would decide against it. Whatever they wanted to say wasn’t important enough to say.
Even though Jack felt terrible, he couldn’t keep his mood from affecting his classes, so he slipped into full on robot mode. It’d been awhile since he had acted that way, but it was better than him moping around. At least in robot mode, he got out what was needed to be said.
It was when Jack started using robot mode around the other teachers that he figured there was something actually wrong with him. He hadn’t felt like this since he was younger, back right after he stopped playing hockey. At that time, he knew why he had felt so bad, and it had to do with hockey. Now, he just couldn’t figure out why he felt this way. Nothing was clicking in his brain.
He went to lunch with Shitty for the first time in almost a week. Shitty was good at figuring out what was wrong with Jack, and he really needed to figure it out. He didn’t want to ruin his students’ graduation because he couldn’t muster a smile onto his face.
“Jack! It’s almost surprising to see you here. You doing alright?” Shitty gave him a concerned smile, and it almost made Jack want to turn around and leave. He hated pity more than anything. Instead, Jack sat down across from Shitty with a sigh.
“No, I’m not.” Shitty instantly turned his full attention to Jack, and waited for Jack to continue. Jack mulled over his words carefully, trying to figure out exactly what it was that he was feeling.
“I think… I think I might be worried about something.” It sounded childish to his own ears, but he couldn’t think of a better way to say it.
“Well, what are you worried about?” Shitty didn’t miss a beat. It’s why Jack went to him for help. He was always willing to put up with Jack’s shit, and Jack had a lot of shit right now.
“I don’t know… mainly why Bittle and I don’t talk anymore. I know it’s partly my fault, but he was giving me the cold shoulder weeks ago. Ever since the camping trip. It was the worst at the museum. You should’ve seen it, Shits, he wouldn’t even look at me.” Jack looked at his hands. He couldn’t figure out why he felt like crying. Were he and Bittle ever that close? Did Jack just blow their friendship out of proportion?
Shitty started and stopped several sentences, and Jack looked up, looking at the comical way that Shitty was flapping his mouth. Eventually though, he settled on something he actually did want to say.
“Jack, it’s not your fault. It’s not even his fault. I can’t tell you whose fault it is, but I promise you, it isn’t you. It never was.” Shitty sighed. He pushed his lunch around on his plate, and Jack did the same. Neither one spoke for a while, before Jack couldn’t take it.
“Were we ever even friends, Shitty?” Jack stared down at his plate, though he noticed that Shitty was staring at him.
“Of course you were. You still are. There’s just... something in the way right now. It’ll fix itself, I’m sure.” There was a bit of panic in Shitty’s voice, and it almost made Jack want to laugh, because he’s the one who usually panics. Shitty’s words had an interesting way of calming him down. It’ll fix itself . Jack should just let it run its course. He nodded, before taking a bite into his food.
“Thanks, Shitty.”
“Always, Jack.”
It took a couple more days of not talking to Bittle before Jack figured that letting it run its course fucking sucked . His mood hadn’t improved much. He couldn’t figure out what it was about not talking to Bittle that made him feel this way.
They kept running their classes like they had all year, but they had stopped talking about it before each day. Jack missed their discussions. They were more often than not purely professional, but at least they were talking . This ‘seeing each other across the gym but never making eye contact or conversation’ thing that they had going on was killing Jack.
Jack figured it was his fault that they weren’t talking. He would just have to make the effort to get them to talk again, before graduation. That was Jack’s current goal. Just to talk to Bittle.
It was finals week for the seniors when he tried to give it a shot. There wasn’t a final in the gym classes, but they still had to go to the class. So, the kids had free time, and Jack had an opportunity to talk to Bittle. He steeled himself up, before walking the all of five feet to where Bittle stood.
“Bittle, hey. It’s… been awhile since we’ve talked, eh?” Jack was painfully aware of how awkward he was being. He could see a couple of the kids nearby rolling their eyes, and he couldn’t tell if it was at him or at something they were talking about. It didn’t help him at all either way.
Bittle looked at him for a moment, crossing his arms. The last time he crossed his arms he cut the conversation short. Jack was about ready to make a break for it, before Bittle dropped his arms and sighed.
“Yeah, it has, Jack. Sorry ‘bout that. I’m not sure what it is.” Jack could tell he was lying, but he didn’t want to press the issue. He was just so happy about talking to Bittle again. It wasn’t even a reasonable amount of happy. Jack was trying to keep a giant smile off his face.
“It’s fine, I did it too. I think I was completely closing myself off from people. In full robot mode.” Jack thought for a second, before raising his hands in the robot. “You know, beep boop.”
Bittle laughed softly, and Jack held back the giant smile as best he could. Instead, he let an extremely smaller one out. He thought back to making Bittle laugh in Annie’s over pop music that Jack pretended not to know. He parroted his words from back then.
“It’s so easy to make you laugh,” he said. Bittle stopped laughing, and instantly Jack thought he had done something wrong. But Bittle was still smiling, so it wasn’t a total bust yet.
“Mr. Zimmermann, your sense of humour astounds me.”
“Your word choice astounds me. How can you say them with that accent of yours?”
Bittle gasped and slapped Jack lightly on the arm, before crossing his arms and turning away with a huff. Jack was glad to know it wasn’t an end to the conversation. Bittle turned back almost right away, with a glimmer in his eyes.
“Why Jack, I didn’t think you could judge anyone on their accents. What with all that French Canadian coming out of your mouth.” Bittle tried his hardest to mimic Jack’s accent, and Jack admitted to himself that it was pretty good. But two can play at that game.
“Y’all best not be messin’ ‘round with the French Canadians. They’ll mess you right up to next week.” Jack exaggerated a southern accent as hard as he could, throwing in some fake southernisms. Bittle laughed, clear and wonderful, and Jack didn’t keep his smile back this time, letting it spread across his face.
Why did he spend so long avoiding talking to Bittle? It was the second to last week of school, they wouldn’t see each other for an entire summer. Jack didn’t want to know what he would’ve done if Bittle kept giving him the cold shoulder. Somehow, Jack figured it would’ve been a lonely summer.
They talked like that for the rest of the week, making fun of each other and talking about things. Bittle was so easy to talk to, about everything and about nothing, that Jack couldn’t figure out how he could have not talked to him all this time. They had spent a solid month and a half basically avoiding each other’s existences.
Bittle started to eat his lunches with Jack and Shitty again, and Shitty seemed relieved by this just as much as Jack was. Jack hadn’t noticed, but it looked like Bittle had been giving everyone the cold shoulder. The bright southern baker didn’t seem the type, but everyone has something that makes them close up. Jack knew that well enough.
Jack could feel himself relaxing, completely getting out of robot mode. Something about talking to Bittle pulled him out of himself, and Jack didn’t feel as closed off as he usually did with the approaching summer. Usually, Jack wanted to get to graduation as quick as possible so he could go home as quick as possible. He wanted to get back to Montreal, basically the day after graduation.
But this time, Jack wanted the last two weeks to drag on forever. He wanted to keep talking to Bittle for the rest of the time. He couldn’t figure out why though. All he knew is that talking to Bittle was something he looked forward to every day. Jack didn’t want to think too hard on why it was though.
As the last week of school came up, and all the seniors began their senior week, leaving a lot fewer students on campus. Jack busied himself with grading papers, and proctoring for his other class finals. Sometimes he hated having non senior classes, because it meant he actually had to do work. But with Bittle around, it was slightly more bearable.
Bittle had invited all the teachers to help him grade his students’ finals: a full course meal. Bittle could only eat so much, and he was a big opponent to wasting food, so after having tasted and graded each meal, he had the teachers eat one of the meals, and give their own grade. Whatever the teachers said wouldn’t affect the final grade, but Bittle believed that everyone deserved to know that their cooking was enjoyed. Bittle told him all that when explaining why he invited the teachers to eat his students’ finals.
Jack came in with Shitty and Larissa, to find Adam and Justin already scarfing down their dishes. Jack gave a small look of disgust that was laced with amusement.
“How can you enjoy something if you eat it so quickly? You’ll never taste it.” Adam put down his fork, already laden with another piece of food. He guiltily started chewing what was already in his mouth, and Justin did the same. Jack gave a little chuckle, before sitting at a table with Shitty and Larissa. Bittle was nowhere to be seen, but the invitation was to sit down and wait to be served.
“Oh, Jack! And Shitty and Larissa. Glad y’all could make it. I didn’t want my students’ hard work to go to waste. Let me get the first course for you!” Bittle had come out of the back, but before Jack could say anything, he was turning around. Jack was a little disappointed, but he remembered that he was here to help Bittle, not talk to Bittle.
Bittle came back, carrying three dishes, putting one in front of each of them. It was a salad, and as much as Jack would love to start digging in, Bittle started talking, describing what was in it and what the rest of the meal entailed. From his sitting position, Jack couldn’t look much higher than Bittle’s mouth, watching as he talked rather than listening. When Bittle left, Jack turned to the salad, but noticed both Shitty and Larissa looking at him.
“What? Look, the salad looks amazing. Bittle’s students did a really good job.”
“Jack. I can’t believe how oblivious you are.” Larissa shook her head, taking a bite of her salad. Shitty simply shook his head, doing the same.
“What? What do you mean? What am I missing?” Jack stared at them, but they just continued to look at their salads. Jack shrugged, and dug into his own. If they didn’t want to tell him, he wasn’t going to press.
Jack forgot about it for the rest of the time, as Bittle continued to bring out dish after dish until the dessert. Jack was almost too full to eat it, but Bittle said it was hand-made ice cream and Jack wasn’t one to deny someone’s hard work. Not to mention, if he didn’t eat the dessert he couldn’t spend more time with Bittle, or give an accurate grade to the student.
Jack had never felt so full but satisfied in his life. Whoever this student was was really good at cooking. He would tell them as much in his grade report.
“Bittle, this was a really good idea. Thanks for inviting us to do this.” Jack smiled at him, and Bittle smiled back.
“Well, thanks for coming! I wanted to make sure my students had someone to appreciate their cooking. Now, I could’ve invited some of the students to eat it, but I figured that they could get an extra grade out of it this way!” Bittle began to clean up, and Jack jumped up to help, clearing the dishes from where he and Shitty were sitting. Before Bittle could protest, Jack flashed another smile.
“I don’t want you to do all this work yourself, Bittle. You fed us, we might as well help clean up from it.” Bittle had a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jack was surprised to see a bit of panic there, but he tried to brush it off as southern hospitality not wanting to let the guest doing any work.
Jack took the dishes to the back, following Bittle. Bittle put down his dishes, gesturing for Jack to do the same, before clapping his hands together, looking at the dishes.
“Well, Jack, why don’t you go home. I got this handled. Thanks for bringing them back, but you don’t have to clean them.”
“No, I want to help. Why don’t I dry them?”
“No Jack. Please, go home. Don’t you have history papers to grade or something?” Bittle was insistent, so Jack finally agreed, with a nod to see Bittle tomorrow. Jack left the back with a frown on his face.
“Hey, Jacko, what’s up? You look like you ate a lemon the way your face is all puckered up.” Shitty slid off the table he had been sitting on, coming over to Jack. Jack looked at him, sighing. It wasn’t something he wanted to talk about here.
“Shits, do you want to have a grading party? Larissa, you can come too. Are Adam and Justin still here?”
“No, they left while you were in the back with Bittle. Said they hadn’t done any grading yet.” Larissa shook her head, moving over to where the two men stood. “A grading party sounds fun. Your place?”
“Yeah, why not come by in an hour?” Jack gave a small breath of relief. He wanted to talk about Bittle, and how odd he was acting, but not when Bittle was just in the next room.
“Yeah, brah, see ya then,” Shitty said. The three walked together until the parking lot, before going to their separate cars. Jack hoped he could get some answers later.
“Jacky boy, what was on your mind earlier?” Shitty walked into Jack’s house without a hello. Jack shook his head with a smile, before gesturing to his couch.
“Hi, Shits, welcome, Shits, have a seat, Shits,” Jack said monotonously. Shitty cracked a smile before sitting down, plopping a large pile of papers on the coffee table in front of him.
“Alright, I’m sitting. Now talk.”
“Not until Larissa is here. She should get here soon.” Jack held up a finger. Shitty threw his head back with a groan, but instantly perked up when the door opened and Larissa walked in with her own stack of papers.
“Hey, boys. I didn’t miss anything, right? Figured Shitty would want to know right away, but also figured Jack wouldn’t tell until I got here. So spill, Zimmermann.” She sat next to Shitty on the couch, and both of them turned to him expectantly. Jack looked up at his ceiling for a moment, before looking back at them.
“Bittle was acting weird. He really didn’t want me to help him with the dishes. Like he didn’t want to be in the same room as me anymore.”
Shitty and Larissa exchanged a look that Jack couldn’t read, and after some sort of silent conversation, Shitty shook his head.
“Jack, Jacky Jack Jack. Oh Jack. Jack—“
“Shitty, stop saying my name and get to the point.”
“Right. How you can be so oblivious is beyond all of us, but we all promised not to tell you. So we won’t tell you why Eric is acting that way,” Shitty said. Larissa nodded, and Jack frowned in frustration. So there is something everyone is hiding behind his back.
“Who is ‘we all’?” Jack asked instead. He wanted to know what they were hiding, but Shitty was too stubborn to fold and Larissa was immune to his methods.
“Well, me and Shitty for one, Adam, Justin, Chris, Will, Derek. We’re the ones in on it. But everyone else already knows.” Larissa counted off on her fingers, and Jack looked at her incredulously. When they said everyone, they meant everyone.
“So, you won’t tell me anything, but everyone already knows?” Shitty and Larissa hesitated before nodding.
“Well, not everyone? But pretty much. Pretty sure your students know too.”
“Not the students.”
“Sorry, brah.” Shitty picked up the first paper from his stack, and that was the end of the conversation. Jack’s mind was racing, trying to figure out what could have every single teacher and student in on it. He thought back to everything he hadn’t understood over the past school year, but the only thing that popped into his head was everything to do with Bittle.
Bittle existing in Jack’s life was some sort of enigma in and of itself, but Jack was sure that it couldn’t have anything to do with the small baker. Shitty and Larissa didn’t say that Bittle didn’t know, but they didn’t say that he did know either.
They sat in silence, Jack silently going over everything that he could be ignoring, Shitty and Larissa grading like they were supposed to. Jack was sure that he wouldn’t get anything done tonight.
Graduation approached quickly, and Jack managed to finish all his grading. He still couldn’t help but think about all the things his friends were hiding from him, so once the last day of school came around, Jack was in a bad mood. Everything his friends said, where he couldn’t hear what was said, was directed at him in his mind. He felt paranoid, but he didn’t know what was being hidden from him and he didn’t know how to not think everything said near him was about whatever it was.
Jack was fiddling with his tie in the gym where all the students sat. They’d line up there, then walk from the gym to the field, where the field was lined with chairs for every student in the graduating class, plus the teachers who would hand off the diplomas.
Jack was to hand off the diplomas to ten students, the maximum. It was the most he’d ever gotten. He would probably be the last to admit he was a hardass, but it’s not like he changed all that much from then to now. Had he?
Bittle had also gotten ten students, but Jack had noticed he had to turn down several students. Jack didn’t think anyone had ever been that popular, other than Shitty. But mostly, Shitty was popular because he had zero filter. Bittle on the other hand, was popular because the students genuinely liked him and looked up to him. It was a little jarring, looking at how much admiration the students had for the man.
Jack smoothed out the jacket of his suit. It was the same suit he wore at prom, but it was also the only suit he owned, since Justin had made him throw out the old one. Justin wasn’t wrong about the suit, but Jack figured he’d have to go shopping for himself again. This suit made him feel self-conscious, with how expensive it was. It looked amazing on him, he’ll admit, but he felt weird wearing it.
Jack glanced up, noticing Bittle across the way. He looked nice, in a blue suit with a red bowtie. He was laughing with a few students. Jack thought he looked good, one of the better dressed teachers in the room. Bittle looked over in his direction, and Jack started. He didn’t know why he felt guilty for staring.
Bittle walked over to him after saying a few parting words to the students. Jack looked around a little, just so it wasn’t like he was just staring at him still. He felt more awkward doing that, though, so he turned his eyes back to Bittle.
“Hey, Jack! Well, here we are, at graduation. What are you gonna do with your summer?” Bittle smiled at him, like he hadn’t seen how Jack had been staring at him. Why was Jack so painfully awkward?
“Oh, hey, Bittle. I usually go home to Montreal for the summer. What about you?” Jack was proud that he didn’t sound awkward. Why did he feel so awkward?
“I’m going home to Georgia for a little while. I promised my mama I would, but mostly I’ll be staying ‘round here, trying to find things to do. Didn’t have much time, you know?” Bittle didn’t sound awkward at all, but that was to be expected. If anything though, Bittle sounded a little sad. Jack didn’t know what to do with sad.
“Well, I wish you luck. Shitty never leaves, so you can always ask him for help.” Jack reached out and rested a hand on Bittle’s shoulder, but startled again as an announcement peeled out through the gym.
“Students and teachers! It is time to line up for the procession!” Bittle smiled apologetically, before turning around, moving to the front of the room. Jack fell to the back. Alphabetically, they were never farther apart.
Sitting on the field, watching the students that he’d been teaching graduate, Jack felt nostalgic. Looking back over the year, thinking about all the moments he had with each person called out. Each person he knew in some way, either through stories told by the other teachers, or from one of his own classes. There had been something different about this class of students as opposed to years in the past.
There had been something different about this year as opposed to years in the past. Jack couldn’t help but think the main thing different was Bittle. Before he came, Jack didn’t think he’d ever had so much fun teaching the gym classes. He didn’t think his students had had as much fun either, thinking back with a small smile to the essays Jack had passed out in the past. This year was lucky that Bittle had vetoed that idea immediately.
Bittle’s group was the second group to go, and as his name was called up, a smattering of cheers petered out from the crowd of students. Jack thought again just how popular Bittle was. Jack looked down his row, at the students smiling next to him. He couldn’t help the frown that he made, thinking yet again how no one else had liked him so much.
Jack tried to turn his attention off of such thoughts, instead thinking about different things each teacher did, from when Chris nearly passed out from talking about the Sharks’ current winning streak, or when Larissa begged Jack to model for his class due to his ‘Adonis looks, according to Shitty’. It wasn’t just the teachers he thought about, but each student whose name he recognized. He tried to think of all the memories he had with each and every person he knew, even if it was just in passing. Like the student who never had him, but said hi to him in the hallways, or the student who ended up in Jack’s classes every year.
He came up with a memory for each person, right up until the last of Pacer’s kids made it back to their seats, and Jack’s kids had to walk up to the stage for their last walk as high schoolers. Jack led them with a little pride, taking the group of ten students he had taught for at least one year on their final journey as his students.
Jack stood, watching the students tossing their caps. He couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Every memory that had gone through his head made him think that he wouldn’t see any of these kids again. Sure, some would visit, but eventually, they’d stop coming and leave high school far far behind. It was a bittersweet thought, but for now, Jack tried to put on a happy smile. This was their moment, and they deserved it.
Once the caps all landed, the students were free to leave, no longer students, onto their next journey, onto the rest of their life. Many stuck around, for pictures with their friends or to chat with family or even to talk to other teachers. Jack rarely got former students coming up to him, which is why he was surprised by an insistent voice from behind him.
“Coach Z! Coach Z! Wait!” Tera Anfera came running up to Jack, clutching her cap in her hand. She beamed up at him, and Jack smiled awkwardly back.
“Hi, Tera. Look at you, all graduated. Excited for what’s to come?”
“Yup! I can’t thank you enough for everything you taught me. You were one of my favourite teachers!” Jack tried not to show how touched he was by that, instead choosing to switch the conversation.
“Where are you going to college? Oh, did you put it on your cap?” Jack looked at her hand, where she held the panel of her cap to her stomach. She looked down at it too, before responding.
“Oh, no… I didn’t put my college on my cap. I put a quote I really liked.” She flipped the cap around, showing Jack the words written on it. “’You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.’ It’s something I live by, whether in school or work or in relationships. It’s really resonated with me.”
Jack kind of… stopped listening to her. The words his uncle Wayne said, that were now written on Tera’s cap bounced around his head. He can’t believe how stupid he was. It was right there, in front of him, and had been for months .
Oh, god damn it.
Jack turned tail, looking over the heads of the students for the short man, cursing under his breath. Why’d Bittle have to be so short? Jack remembered he was in the middle of a conversation and turned back around.
“Sorry, Tera… I have to—I have to go.” Jack took off without waiting to hear her reply. He was going to find Bittle if it was the last thing he did. He hoped it would be the last thing he did today.
Jack thought over the entire year—from the moment he met Bittle, to all the little things, to the culmination of the skating unit and the way Jack had felt when Bittle was three inches from breaking his nose— his cute button nose . To the coffee dates that Jack had unintentionally set up, to getting locked into the closet and just wanting to hold Bittle. To Valentine’s Day and actually wanting to stay for dinner, because Bittle was there. To the camping trip and having to share a tent, and then almost panicking when Bittle fell in the river, and sitting next to him at the fire, watching him sleep on his shoulder.
To prom, and being pressed so close against him. To wanting to kiss him without knowing he actually wanted to kiss him. To Bittle pulling away after that, avoiding him, giving him the cold shoulder. Not looking at him at the museum, brushing him off and not looking at him. How hurt Jack felt, how he brushed it off, thinking they just weren’t as good of friends as he thought. To how just one conversation with Bittle had brightened his mood so quickly. How Bittle hadn’t wanted to be in a room alone with Jack.
Jack had been so stupid. All the signs were there, from his own feelings, to what he hoped were Bittle’s feelings. He just had to find the man. Tell him how he felt, make sure that Bittle knew. Jack wasn’t sure he’d be able to figure out the right words to say. Maybe once he found him, he’d be able to find them. He hoped to find them.
It took him five minutes to find Bittle. He stood off to the side, chatting with a few parents and students. Jack stood there and stared. He wasn’t coming up with anything to say. Maybe he’d have to be face to face. He walked up behind Bittle, determination in his eyes.
“Bittle…”
Bittle spun around, surprise written all over his face.
“Jack! Oh, why are you all out of breath? Did you come running over here? Are you ok? Did something happen? Did you—“
“Eric.” Jack stopped him in his tracks. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing anymore. He just couldn’t stop staring at Eric’s lips. He leaned forward, and kissed him.
It was the best feeling, something Jack felt like he had been missing for a long long time. He didn’t want to stop kissing Eric. Eric was kissing him back, reaching up for the collar of his suit. He didn’t seem to want to stop either. But they needed to come up for air, and Jack was pretty sure he heard cheering.
He pulled away, resting his forehead on Eric’s. Eric had his eyes closed, a small frown playing on his face, confirming Jack’s theory that he hadn’t wanted to stop. Around them, students were cheering, grabbing at each other. A few shouts of “finally!” rung out in the circle, and Jack laughed.
“Seems they all knew, except us.”
“Mr. Zimmermann, I’ll have you know I have known for a very long time that I wanted to do that. I just figured it was one sided.”
“Might as well have been. Appears I’m just as oblivious as Shitty said I was.”
“Glad you figured it out, sweetheart.” Eric pulled him in again, for another kiss. And Jack wouldn’t change anything about this moment for the world.