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Jack wasn’t sure if he had really prepared for this. The reality of his team finally meeting his partner, his distinctly not female or male or anything of the sort partner.
Holding Bitty’s hand in a tight grip, Jack guided them towards the rink. Jack’s palms were slick with sweat.
By now the team had known that Jack was dating someone for sometime, the baked goods and affectionate post-its attached to all his lunches had made that much clear. But Jack was still…tentative.
He knew that the organization had his back, he knew that this would be okay by them, and Bitty was more than ready, they’d already told Jack over and over that this is what they wanted too but “Only if you’re ready, sugar. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing this. This ain’t just about me, this is about you, too. It’s about us.” Bitty had said in with sweet sincerity. Jack knew that this was what he wanted, he wanted the team to meet his partner, for who they were, not whoever the team had thought they might’ve been.
When he told the boys he’d be bringing his partner by sometime in the week, that they wanted to meet them, only some of the boys had picked up on the intentional pronoun game while others were more excited to finally meet the mystery “girl” behind the pies and cookies.
Once the ribbing had died down as they dispersed post-practice, the war with himself began in earnest. Should he have mentioned their gender? Should he have said that Bitty wasn’t a girl, or a boy, or anything like that, at all? Jack didn’t want to make it seem like Bitty’s gender (or lack thereof) was anything that needed to be disclosed, he didn’t want to build it up and set Bitty on a pedestal for examination and scrutiny, as if their gender needed to be prefixed with a warning label. Jack didn’t want to do that to Bitty, to treat them like a novelty. But at the same time, he worried that his lack of disclosure might throw some of the team off.
Maybe the boys wouldn’t get it, wouldn’t understand or be okay with it. And that scared Jack, probably more than it scared Bitty. Bitty was a tough cookie, they’d been through hell and high water to be who they were as openly and true to themself as they could be. Jack knew that Bitty could handle whatever came their way, as they’d also repeated over and over “Honey, there ain’t nothing those boys could say to me that I ain’t already heard before. I ain’t scared of them.” But Jack? Jack had to come back to work everyday after that, regardless of what happened. Contracts are contracts, and he’s got one to fulfill with this organization. If shit were to hit the fan, there’s nothing he can do but play through it. Jack doesn’t think he could take the shunning or the slurs directed at him or Bitty. But Jack already knew, if he had to choose between this team or Bitty, he’d chose Bitty every time. It sounded crazy to his own ears, but his priorities had changed. It wasn’t just about hockey anymore, Jack had a life and a purpose and a passion outside of that now, and that was a big step forward for Jack. And that made this, the merging of these two worlds, feel just that much more monumental.
Jack pushed open the glass door, hiking his bag up higher on his shoulder as he went. No turning back now.
He held the door open for Bitty behind him, shakily reaching out to take Bitty’s hand again. Bitty made smooth, slow circles on Jack’s hand as they walked through the arena. Bitty’s shoes made a heavy clicking sound as they navigated the hallways towards the lunch room, the sound made Jack feel a little more at ease. Going against his knee-jerk reaction to let Bitty dress themself down today, he’d urged Bitty not to dress differently than they normally would, even though he could tell they were initially leaning towards a more conservative t-shirt and jeans look to make today’s introductions somehow “easier”. Jack had instead suggested Bitty’s favourite pinafore/turtleneck combo, the one that made their hair look extra golden, the one that Bitty had being wearing the first time Jack had met them. At Jack’s suggestion, Bitty had smiled a soft grin and put it on confidently, and Jack knew he’d made the right call. He also knew he’d do anything to keep Bitty that happy.
The door to the lunch room was left wide open.
Jack inhaled slowly as they crossed the threshold. The room was full of chatter, most of the boys loitering around waiting for him. Jack swallowed as, slowly but surely, all the conversations dropped off. Everyone turned to Jack and Bitty standing tentatively in the doorway.
“Um, boys,” Jack began, clearing his throat, “This is my partner, um, Bitty? Or Er? I, uh–” Bitty cut Jack off.
“Name’s Er, but y’all can call me Bitty if you like, s’what all my friends call me.” Bitty spoke confidently and clearly, but Jack was the only one who could feel Bitty’s hands shaking ever so slightly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Thirdy was the first one to move forward, reaching his hand out to shake. Bitty took it easily, smiling a little less tightly and a little more genuinely.
“So this is Jack’s secret lover we smell all time at lunches. Your baking comes ‘fore you, we wait so long to meet secret bake person.” Tater came clambering up, all long limbs and loud Russian-accented speech.
“I have some pies in the car if y’all want, I wasn’t sure if I–” Bitty was interrupted.
“You bring pies? For us?! We no worthy! Jack, you no worthy! Baking lover is so much good and you no share for so long! Am wounded deeply!” Tater ruffled Jack’s hair, startling a laugh out of Jack at the sudden burst of affection.
“Jack, you mean to tell me you’ve been hogging all those pies I send with you every week? For shame!” Bitty playfully nudged Jack’s arm, rubbing the spot with his thumb.
“That’s a lie! I always share, you make too many desserts for me to eat them all myself.” Jack retorted.
“Tater meaning you, Bitty. Jack been keeping you to himself, we wait patiently to meet Jack’s boyf–er, girlf–? I…you, we waiting very long to meet you.” Tater finished weakly, clearly uncertain of exactly what words to use. Bitty only smiled, appreciating Tater’s diversion.
“Jack you never told us he’s a southerner, this changes everything!” Snowy chimed in. Jack stiffened, unsure of how to proceed with correcting Snowy’s misgendering.
“I’m agender, actually,” Bitty supplied, easy as breathing. “They/them pronouns work just fine for me,” Bitty continued. “But do go on, how does my southernness change anything? And tread carefully, I hold the key to your pie privileges.” Bitty smirked good-naturedly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Bitty,” Snowy replied instantly, not even batting an eye at the correction. “What I meant to say is, you must know football! American football! These buffoons wouldn’t know a good game of football if it was happening in their backyard! Finally, a reprieve from this insanity!” Snowy smiled brightly.
“Hallelujah! Lord, do you know how hard it is tryna get Jack to understand anything about football? Canadians, I tell ya!” Bitty chirped affectionately.
“I take that as a personal attack.” Marty replied, smiling at both Bitty and Jack.
“So, about that pie, Bitty…?” Poots interjected. Bitty only laughed.
“Yes, yes, of course! Jack? You wanna come get the pies with me?” Bitty looked up at Jack, clear relief and joy present in his eyes, and Jack felt like his eyes must’ve read the same because the instant wolf whistle and call for money in the sin bin came from someone in the room “There’s gotta be a rule about googly-eyes somewhere in the rules!”
Jack would put his whole NHL salary in the sin bin if it meant he could have more moments like this with Bitty. For the rest of his life, if they’d have him. Jack could do nothing more but smile and nod.
“Yeah, let’s go get the pie.” Jack pressed a soft kiss to Bitty’s forehead as someone shouted “Fine! Definite fine! Right in the sin bin, Zimmermann!” and both Bitty and Jack chuckled.
Putting his bag down, Jack took Bitty’s hand once again as they headed back to the parking lot. Jack’s palms weren’t sweaty anymore. Bitty’s shoes made a heavy click, and Jack smiled.