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“I can’t -” hic “believe -” hic “I did it again!” Bitty wailed, thumping his head down on Jack’s shoulder.
“Oh Bits,” he tried to sound sympathetic, but couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice.
“Don’t laugh at me! I really was gonna be responsible this year.” Jack squeezed Bitty’s thigh where he was holding him up.
“It’s Spring C, nobody’s going to judge you for being schwasted.”
“This is the second time you have had to piggyback me home from this.”
“Yes, but this year you have both shoes, so you’ve made progress. I bet next year you’ll walk back all on your own.”
“Chirp, chirp, Mr. Zimm-” Bitty was cut off by a loud, rumbling belch falling right out of his mouth. Jack snorted, then coughed, and finally doubled over with laughter. The sudden lurch had Bitty gripping him tighter, fingers bunching the sleeves of Jack’s shirt. “Oh my lord,” He pressed his burning face into the back of Jack’s neck. “Excuse me. Oh honey, I’m so sorry, I’m just a mess.” That only made Jack laugh harder. Bitty huffed, “Well, I’m glad you think it’s funny,” and proceeded to let go and roll off of his boyfriend and onto the grass of the quad.
He pushed himself up to sitting and tried to start wobbling his way across the lawn. It was pretty slow going since he felt like a baby deer. Behind him, Jack’s laughter tapered off, and he heard footsteps as he closed the distance between them in a couple long strides. As soon as Jack’s hand cupped his elbow, the world steadied. And then Jack was in front of him, easily supporting him and reaching with his free hand to brush through Bitty’s sweaty hair, his expression concerned.
“Bits, what’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”
“I just-” his voice went wobbly, vision blurring with frustrated tears. “I’m tired, and sweaty, and drunk, and I really just want to be home.” He sniffles. “And I really, really, want a shower.”
Jack moved to Bitty’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him steady. He kissed the side of Bitty’s head.
“I think we can manage to make that happen.” Bitty sighed happily and leaned harder against him.
“Thanks sweetpea.” They shuffled their way back to the Haus together, walking along in contented silence. Bitty was still pretty out of it, and Jack didn’t mind the quiet, so they shambled along, Bitty still heavily bolstered by Jack’s hold. At the Haus, Jack nudged Bitty up the stairs, following carefully behind in case he stumbled, and sent him into the bathroom to pee while Jack fetched a pair of pajamas. Then he joined Bitty and got them both undressed and into the shower, Bitty leaning against him again as he sudsed up his hair and gently washed the sweat and dirt smudges from his body. He combed his fingers through Bitty’s hair to get the bubbles out, tipping his head back into the spray and shielding his eyes with his other hand. When Jack washed himself, Bitty tried to clumsily reciprocate, humming and giggling and giving Jack a soapy mohawk that made him laugh outright.
Both boys toweled off and pulled on shorts and t-shirts and all but fell into Bitty’s bed, smiling and thoroughly exhausted. Jack, curled on his side to face his boyfriend, reached out to run a hand under the back of Bitty’s shirt and touch cooling skin.
“Feel better?” he checked. Bitty nodded, scooting closer so he could tuck his face into Jack’s shoulder.
“Much. You always take such good care of me, baby.” Jack closed his heavy eyes and settled deeper into the pillow.
“I learned from you.”
“Oh stop,” Bitty murmured, sounding half asleep himself.
“Never.”