Chapter Text
The one thing Bitty is grateful for is that he submitted his job application before it all happened. He's back into his funk and getting the phone call for an interview is the bright light that keeps him going through the post-break up week. His phone keeps pinging with alerts from the Falconers Twitter account, so even without watching any games, Bitty knows they're on a winning streak and seem to be heading straight for the final round. He can't bring himself to unsubscribe but the payoff is sporadic needles of pain to his chest when Jack’s name or face shows up on the feed. Maybe if Jack looked the pinnacle of health, Bitty could tell himself that Jack made the right decision. But the pictures on Bitty's Twitter tell a different story, one where Jack's losing weight and sleep to the game he loves. The bags under his eyes rival Bitty's.
Forcing himself to bed early the night before his job interview is ineffective and Bitty breaks out the concealer in the morning to try and hide the purple on his skin. Knowing Shruti and Sharon already is marginally useful for dampening his nerves, but as he pushes thoughts of Jack from his mind to focus on the next hour, it hits like a cement truck that he’s about to interview for his dream job. His emotions turn into a kaleidoscope of happiness and hope and nerves and worry and doubt and enthusiasm.
Shitty agrees to drive him to the interview so he doesn’t have to think about buses, but they spend the drive in silence with Bitty going through his flashcards of points he wants to bring up. He remembers the feeling he had before his interview for his current job, the usual nervousness that tries to convince you that you need to go to the bathroom even though you've just been. Today is different. He catches his reflection smiling in the front window and realises that through his eddy of emotions, what he’s feeling the most is excitement. He's going to walk in today for an interview for his dream job. He's been preparing for this for longer than he wants to admit. He's knows he's ready.
—
Shitty meets Bitty outside Annie's, post interview, with a roll of mass-produced cookies in one hand and a giant iced coffee in the other.
Shitty holds both up. "How was it?"
Bitty lifts a finger, trying to milk the moment, but he can already feel the smile pushing across his face. He points at the iced coffee.
Shitty laughs. "Ay, awesome! Knew it would go well."
Bitty laughs, accepting the drink Shitty holds out. "That makes one of us."
"No, come on. Your dream job!" Shitty slings an arm across his shoulders and walks them off toward wherever he parked the car. "I know you've been thinking like the manager of that place already. I'm sure they loved everything you said."
Bitty nods, recalling the on the spot feedback he'd gotten, all very positive. It was the least formal interview he'd ever participated in. He wonders if it was that way with all the applicants or whether it helped that he's a regular at Annie's events and on good terms with Shruti and Sharon. He feels light and bubbly, something he hasn’t felt in weeks.
Bitty beams into his iced coffee. "I think they really did. Shruti seemed really on board with my ideas for integrating the food and the events more."
"Of course your ideas were about the food." Shitty ruffles Bitty's hair which he only lets him do because the interview is over. He spent a lot of time on it this morning.
"So when are you going to hear back from them?" Shitty asks.
"They'll call by the end of this week and let me know if they want me for a second interview."
Shitty hugs Bitty from the side as they walk and the iced coffee almost tips over onto the sidewalk. Bitty can't help but laugh at Shitty's obvious enthusiasm.
"Ah, you'll get the call. 'Course you will."
"Don't jinx it!" Bitty reprimands Shitty, elbowing him in the side. He doesn't really mean it, he's feeling extremely positive. For once in his professional life, he didn't walk out of a job interview with regrets.
Actually, that's a little bit of a lie. He has one...it’s not a regret, but a thought that bursts the bubble of his mood.
Shitty pulls the drink from Bitty's lax hand.
"Where'd you go? Remembering something embarrassing you did during the interview?"
Bitty shakes his head and lets Shitty help himself to his drink.
"You know, the second I walked out of the office, I was so happy I forgot for a second that me and Jack broke up," Bitty hears himself confess without making the conscious decision to do so. "My first though was, 'I need to call Jack and tell him how it went'." He crosses his arms over his chest, staring ahead down the street. “It's been three weeks, Shitty. I’m still thinking about him every day."
Bitty doesn't look to Shitty for an answer. They continue down the street in silence, Shitty slowing down to match Bitty's pace. The sun hits Bitty's face but the warmth doesn't reach like it did a minute ago.
They make it all the way to the car before Shitty says anything.
"I'm going to be very real for the next few minutes. Are you open to it?"
Bitty knows from experience that means Shitty's going to say something he doesn't think Bitty wants to hear. He also knows from experience that it's going to give him a better perspective of his situation.
"Yeah. Let me hear it."
The car sits idle, Shitty having never turned the engine on. Shitty rests a wrist over the steering wheel and turns to look at Bitty.
“Did you ever consider it like Jack didn’t break up with you? It’s more like he made a massive decision for you?”
Bitty blinks. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I've been thinking about your situation and I think you do need to talk to Jack.”
“I don’t need to talk to him," Bitty lies to Shitty's face. "Nor do I want to."
It feels wrong saying it.
“Okay, well we know that last part is a lie," Shitty calls him out. "I see you staring at his name in your contact list when you’re meant to be answering work emails. But I digress. Bro." Shitty reaches to put a hand on Bitty's shoulder and levels Bitty with his most serious look. "You’ve got to talk to him.”
Bitty doesn't see the part where he's 'got to' talk. All he knows is that he misses Jack's voice on his phone. But 'want' and 'need' and 'got to' are different things.
“There’s nothing more to say," Bitty tells Shitty. "He made it clear what he wanted.”
“Yeah, Bitty. That’s my point . He made it clear what he wanted. The way you described it, it was all about his needs and concerns in the situation, and like, I’m not saying they’re not valid—everyone’s feelings are valid—I’m saying when did you say what you wanted?”
Bitty has no defence for the accusation and Shitty knows it. It's one of the things he'd told Shitty and Lardo after the break up, how his body had locked up in shock and he couldn't do anything, even though he'd wanted to; wanted to call Jack back, tell him Bitty didn't care, that this relationship was worth going through whatever was to come.
Bitty pushes a hand through his hair.
"It sounds like he was scared of things falling apart,” Shitty says, “so he bailed before it could get to that point. Didn't he say something like, I want you to —It was something about grounding?"
Bitty hears the words in Jack's voice , ‘I want this to be the thing that grounds me’. He repeats it to Shitty.
Shitty nods and squeezes Bitty's shoulder. "It's the strangest, most backward break up I've ever heard about. As far as I can tell he was essentially saying ‘I care for you too much.’"
Bitty wants to push Shitty’s hand off him. He’s not meant to be saying things to Bitty that a part of Bitty has whispered to himself in the quiet solitude of his bedroom at night. He’s not meant to speak in the daylight the thoughts Bitty has been having and dismissing ruthlessly because if he acknowledges them it means he and Jack could still be together if he’d only done something that day.
“One last thing, then I’ll let the conversation go,” Shitty says. “Jack loved you, Bitty. The way he used to look at you? I’m certain he’s been thinking about you every day, too.”
Shitty squeezes Bitty’s shoulder before pulling his hand back and starting the engine. As the streets pass, Bitty brings up the familiar film reel of that day in the café, tries to watch it through the lens Shitty has been looking through. He runs the dialogue over in his head. He's incredibly efficient at that now.
In his mind’s eyes, Bitty sees Jack reach for his hand, hears him say, ‘If I thought I could get through the season and not ruin us, I would’, and ‘I want to be in a place where this is the thing that grounds me’ and ‘my anxiety will be worse’. He sees the tension in Jack's shoulders, the purple beneath his eyes. He goes back further and runs the night Jack told him about his dreams, hears every sentence starting with an ‘I’. He pushes back further, further than he normally goes, and recalls Jack saying, ‘that’s anxiety for you’.
He goes back and forth and tries to see what Shitty sees and not dismiss the voice in his head like he has the past few weeks. It's easy because Shitty is right. A part of Bitty already knew it, but he’s finally ready to listen. He needs to talk to Jack.
-
Bitty still hasn’t gotten rid of his Falconers alerts. He waits until he knows Jack is out of state before he calls. It gives him time to plan the things he wants to say, what he needs Jack to hear. All the moving on, the giving time to wedding planning, applying for the position at Annie's, all of that when he wasn't even ready to move on. Admitting it to himself is cathartic. He doesn't want to let Jack go. Not when he hasn't given himself the chance to fight for them.
Bitty puts aside time to call Jack on Wednesday night, but his plans are derailed during breakfast that morning when Jack calls him.
Bitty almost lets it ring out, sure his mind is playing tricks on him, but when he answers with a tentative ‘hello’, emotions quivering between hopeful and scared, it’s Jack’s familiar baritone that comes through the line.
“Eric. Thank you for answering. I know you didn’t have to.”
“Why are you calling?” Bitty asks, voice thin and shaky as his body reacts to hearing Jack for the first time in three weeks.
"I need to apologise. I want us to talk again. I want to give us another chance.” Jack says it with such surety that Bitty knows he must have written a list before calling.
“But, but…” Bitty stammers, trying to comprehend that what is happening is real, and not a dream brought on by his conversation with Shitty. Jack is calling him. Jack wants to talk. Jack wants to get back together.
"I’ve been talking to my therapist about what’s been happening,” Jack tells Bitty openly. “I know now that my anxiety and our relationship being new and the playoffs put me into an anxiety spiral. The break-up was me reacting without thinking about you.”
“Every reason you gave me that day was about you," Bitty agrees, still floored by Jack’s call, trying to keep the accusation from his tone when Jack has taken the step to call him.
“I know. I’m not happy about that.” Jack tells Bitty. “I know we spoke a little about my anxiety, and I should have shared with you what was going on with me. I was just so worried I’d ruin things. That I wouldn't be present enough.”
“You’ve told me this before,” Bitty points out as Jack repeats the words he used when he broke up with Bitty.
“I know. I’m telling you again not so you’ll excuse what I did, but so you understand where it came from. I got to a point where I told myself breaking-up would benefit both of us.”
Bitty frowns. “I’ve been miserable for three weeks, Jack.” Bitty knows he’s tapping into that part inside him that’s hardened since their break up.
“And I caused that, some of it, at least. And I’m sorry.” It’s the first actual apology since Jack started the call. Hearing it brings mixed feelings up. Bitty’s want to accept Jack’s apology, but he knows that before he does, they need to talk properly about what’s gone on.
“Bits?” Jack checks after Bitty remains silent while he tries to pinpoint what he’s feeling.
“I’m here. I’m processing.” Bitty shuts his eyes and drops his head into his palm, trying to center his thoughts. “I can’t…I feel like I had this exact conversation with myself just the other day. You know what I was going to do tonight?” Bitty asks Jack.
“No.”
“I was going to call you and tell you that breaking up with me for the reasons you gave me was confusing and shitty. That if you cared about me as much as you were saying as we were breaking up then you wouldn’t have broken up with me. That we would still be together.”
Jack is silent though his breathing is present and heavy.
“I was going to say,” Bitty continues, lifting his head and crossing his arm over his chest instead. There’s a deep well of misery and missing Jack that he continues to tap into. “I was going to say that neither or us know if you would have been the things you feared because you ran away. I was going to tell you how your fears were valid, but you made a massive decision for the both of us. I was going to tell you that I wanted the chance to fight for us.”
Bitty takes a deep breath and drops his shoulders, which had tightened with tension during his rant.
“It is so, so surreal,” Bitty says softly, shaking his head, “to have you call me to say the same thing.”
“Bits, I want to fight for us too,” Jack replies immediately with some desperation. “You are the best thing. I love being with you. I got worried and scared and I ran away instead of letting us get through it together. I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”
Bitty presses the phone tight to his ear, screwing his eyes shut. “What exactly are you asking for?” Bitty breathes out.
"A promise that after the season's over, we’ll talk about us." Bitty’s stomach flips over. “You deserve better than what I did, and I know it may be too late, but I’ve been thinking about you every day, hoping you don’t want to give us up.”
Bitty takes a deep breath. It’s shaky. “I'm not ready to give us up,” Bitty confesses. “I think about you every day too.”
Bitty hears Jack’s harsh exhale. “Can I call you after playoffs? Can we talk about getting back together?”
“Yes, Jack. You can call me.”
-
Bitty moves on from moving on which some might call going backwards. Bitty would vehemently disagree with those people. Jack texts the morning after they talked with a brief apology for his behaviour again and a request for them to continue texting through the remainder of the playoffs. Bitty agrees, letting Jack take the lead on how often, making sure to keep his replies within the bounds of friendship. It doesn’t return to the daily back-and-forth messaging of when they were dating, but every other day, Jack will message with an update on the playoffs and on one occasion with a reflection on something he’d discussed with his therapist.
Bitty is making a practice rehearsal dinner cake when his phone rings a few afternoons later. His fingers are covered in sticky caramel icing and by the time he's washed them the phone has gone silent. He returns to the cake, finishing spreading the buttercream over the two layers. He steps back, tilting his head to try and visualise it with the other decorations.
It's almost an hour later that Bitty gets around to listening to the voicemail.
"Hi Eric. This is Sharon. I'm calling about your application for the assistant manager position at Annie's. If you could call me back when you get a chance, I have some exciting news."
Bitty's breath catches when he hears that and he does an excited shuffle on the spot. He calls back straight away before getting even further ahead of himself.
"Hello. Sharon speaking."
"Hi. Sharon. This is Eric." He clears his throat and tries to sound less like a prepubescent boy. Who knew excitement could make his voice go so high. "I got your message about the assistant manager job?"
"Thanks for getting back so soon. As I said, exciting news. We'd like to offer you the position."
Bitty literally jumps with joy. He hopes that's not audible.
"Are you still interested?"
Bitty beams. His dream job and Jack and he are going to talk about getting back together after playoffs. Fate is back on his side.
"Yes, yes. I certainly am," Bitty tells her.
-
Bitty waits until he's signed his new contract before submitting his resignation. It's one of the happier days of his past year. Shitty throws him a "retirement" party which Bitty let's happen because he's joyous enough that it sounds fun and not inappropriate. He slips away halfway through the party into a spare room and pulls out this phone. His fingers itch with the need to call Jack and tell him what's happened. Jack was the one who kicked this all off, in a way, telling Bitty he should get serious about going after the job he wanted. Not that he had any power over the actual job becoming available. Still. It feels like something Bitty should tell him. If they were still together properly, and not at the strange re-starting a friendship stage, Jack would have been Bitty's first call, before Shitty, before his parents.
Bitty opens their text chain and scrolls through them for a minute, letting the urge to call Jack fade. Jack's already promised they'll talk after playoffs. The final round of games starts tomorrow so it'll be sooner rather than later that Bitty will see him in person. Bitty can wait to tell him then.
The Falconers go all the way to game seven for the Cup. Jack texts only a couple of times during. Still, Bitty's feeling good enough about where he and Jack are at that he agrees to watch the game with Lardo and Shitty at their place. The Falconers lose and Bitty knows it's going to hit Jack hard. He has to sit on his hands so he doesn't text, knowing he won’t be able to keep his text totally platonic. The knowledge that playoffs are finally over and Jack is going to call him any day now helps quash the urge.
Two days go by without a call from Jack. Fears fester without even a text from Jack to placate him, but Bitty thinks back to their phone call and knows that Jack was honest when he said he wanted to talk to Bitty, but also just as honest when he said his anxiety was always going to be there.
He's locking up Annie's three days after the cup final when he hears from Jack. He turns the lock in the door, checks the handle to be sure, then heads to the bus stop only to see someone watching him from a few paces away. He freezes. He'd recognise the shoulders anywhere.
Jack.
He's wearing the same leather jacket that he did to their first date, hands in the pockets.
It's like sound goes negative for a moment. Bitty can actually hear the silence. It's disconcerting. Not as disconcerting as seeing Jack in the flesh with none of the promised forewarning.
Bitty doesn't know what to say, how he should treat Jack. When he says 'hello' should it mean 'I missed you' or 'why didn’t you call'.
Jack speaks first. "Hi, Eric."
Bitty doesn't know what it sounds like beyond awkward.
"Hey, Jack."
The few feet between them remains.
“Sorry about the Cup match,” Bitty offers when the sound of silence starts to overwhelm. He hasn't moved since seeing Jack but his heart pounds like he's run up ten flights of stairs.
“You watched?” Jack asks. Bitty hears the surprise.
Bitty nods. “Of course.” He doesn't tell Jack that he was following every other game too. “You played well.”
Jack frowns, still uneasy with compliments it seems. “My wrist was sprained for the last two games and I -”
“You played well,” Bitty repeats.
Jack clears his throat. “Right. Right. Thank you.”
Bitty toys with the keys in his hand, watching Jack.
“I, uh,” Jack starts, removing his hands from his pockets. “Congratulations.”
Bitty tilts his head, not sure what Jack means. Jack gestures toward Annie's.
“Oh. Thanks, Jack." Bitty wonders how he found out, since he never texted. Has he been keeping up with Bitty's Instagram? "Only a few weeks but I'm really enjoying it.”
Silence falls again. Bitty closes his fingers around the key set to quiet them.
“You weren't at the library,” Jack says loud and abrupt into the quiet of the night, then continues in soundbite sentences. “I made those flapjacks. The Margaret Fulton ones. You were right. They're really good.”
“I'm glad you liked them.” Bitty frowns at Jack, then asks the question he’s been holding in his mind since turning and seeing Jack on the sidewalk. “I thought you were going to call me?”
Jack sighs. “I'm sorry. I didn’t-” Jack cuts off. The way Jack's looking at Bitty reminds Bitty of quiet mornings in Jack's apartment; emotions laid bare.
Jack lifts his hand toward Bitty, though they're still far apart. “I forgot the way your hair curls.”
Bitty's eyes widen and his gut twists. “Jack,” he says, voice low. “Why didn't you call?”
“I didn't want to talk about getting back together over a phone call.”
Bitty’s palms tingle. Hearing the words in real life makes the hope in him far more palpable.
“I need to do this face to face. It’s easier for me when I can see your reactions. And if you say yes, I want-” Jack cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath.
“You want?” Bitty whispers, heart flipping.
“I’ve missed kissing you.”
“ Jack .”
Jack squares his shoulders. "I've thought about this. You and me. I told you before that I wanted you to be my anchor. To ground me, lift me up, support me.”
Bitty's breathing becomes shallow. “You said you weren't there yet,” Bitty reminds Jack, not questioning the contradictions of supposedly being able to ground Jack and lift him up.
“I didn't think I was." Jack shakes his head and takes a step closer to Bitty. "But I was lying to myself. You were all those things to me this past month. Even when we weren't together. But I wasn't in the right place to start us up again."
Bitty feels like a broken record as he says Jack's name again.
Jack closes the distance between them. They stand toe to toe without touching. Bitty has to tilt his head back. It’s just like the night Jack officially asked him out, though so much has changed.
"When you called me, I thought I was imagining your name on my screen,” Bitty tells Jack quietly, “that I was in another of my dreams.”
“You’re not dreaming. I’m here. I’m sorry it took so long.”
Bitty swallows roughly, looking up into Jack's eyes. God he's missed them. It's dark on the street but the blue shines clear in Bitty's mind.
“And now?” Bitty whispers, hope still throbbing inside him.
Jack smiles, a small upturn of his lips. "Now I'm ready. Now I'm just a boy standing in front of a boy-”
“You’re quoting Notting Hill at me?” Bitty interrupts, a surprised smile creeping onto his face as he remembers watching it with Jack those few months ago.
Jack drops his chin to his chest for a second. “I, uh, couldn't think of a nice way to say how I wanted to say what I want.”
Bitty lifts a hand up and hovers it over Jack's chest. Jack leans in and Bitty can feel the thump of Jack’s heart beneath his palm. Bitty sucks in a breath.
“That doesn’t matter to me, Jack. The simple truth is fine.”
Jack nods, his expression becoming serious. “I want to date you again. I want you by my side through everything.”
Bitty's breath catches audibly and he stops breathing. For all Jack doesn't think he's good with words, the blunt honesty he possesses has always shot straight through to Bitty's heart. It does again now, starting a rapid thumpthump in Bitty's chest.
"I want to be by your side," Bitty repeats Jack's words. "Through everything."
Jack smiles like the sun coming out.
Bitty knows there's a lot for them to talk through still; promises to make, fears to address, apologies to say and accept. That can come later. For now there's this; Jack's hands on his hips, Bitty's hands on Jack's chest, Jack's lips soft and sure and familiar against Bitty's own.
EPILOGUE: LOVED IN RETURN
Jack during the offseason is a force to be reckoned with. It seems like every stray romantic thought Jack had during their separation is put into action, days of flowers and dates and good food and bad rom-coms and meeting the friends again.
Bitty re-invites Jack to Lardo and Shitty's wedding and Jack books them into a ballroom dancing class in preparation, even though Bitty assures him that's not the kind of music they’ll have at their wedding. He will admit it's been one of his favourite dates so far.
The ceremony is during the day in a gorgeous National Park with views down to the water. The sun shines and Bitty cries, and from his place beside Shitty at the front he hears Jack laugh every time the officiant stumbles over Shitty's name.
There are a few speeches, including one from Bitty that Jack must have heard at least ten times already, and then a buffet of food and dancing with a live band that have gigged at Annie's before that Lardo loves.
The dancing spills out onto the deck of the reception hall, and Jack leads with an unfair amount of grace for all the pounds of muscle he carries even in the off season.
“Do you know what this reminds me of?” Jack asks as they sway out on the deck while the sun sets over the water.
Bitty pulls his head off Jack’s shoulder to look at him. “No. What?”
Jack smiles down at him. “The first time we met.”
“Really?”
Bitty’s memories of that night are crystal clear and he can’t see much similarity between the two costume-clad strangers kissing on the dancefloor like teenagers, and the people he and Jack are tonight.
“Yeah.” Jack spins Bitty around in a waltz step and pulls him back in. “Sure, the mood is a little different, but this. Here. You in my arms.” Jack pulls Bitty even closer so they’re chest to chest. “It feels like that night.”
Warmth blossoms and Bitty’s cheeks lift with an unstoppable smile.
He tilts his head up to Jack. “I love you,” he tells Jack with all the warmth he can muster.
“I love you too,” Jack whispers back, before leaning down the rest of the distance to join their lips together.
