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With the last dirty plate loaded in the overflowing dishwasher, Bitty turns to rejoin Jack on the couch. He stops short in the doorway and silently takes in the scene before him. The tv is paused, prepped to start whatever movie Jack has chosen for them to watch next. Jack sits reclined on the couch, looking the very image of comfort and coziness. The light coming through the window is muted from the heavy snowfall outside, it sets a completely serene and gentle scene - Bitty should probably stop wasting time. He should grab that giant quilt and snuggle up as close as possible with that big warm boy.
His boy.
Jack is focused on his phone. He has a silly half-grin as he types out a message - Bitty assumes that there’s some chirping going down in the group chat right now, he can see the screen of his own phone on the coffee table lighting up with alerts almost non-stop. Bitty leans against the doorway, arms crossed, and he watches as Jack opens the newest text. Jack laughs soft and silly as he reads it, then he bites his lip to stifle his laughter as he types out his reply. Bitty’s heart does a somersault.
And he has this thought. This one that comes on him like a tidal wave far too often, and without any warning.
I can’t believe this boy is mine.
And as usual, this thought is followed shortly by its natural progression.
I can’t believe I get to kiss this boy’s face.
“Hey, honey.”
“Hmm?” Jack briefly looks up from his phone, but another text comes through and draws his attention away again.
“How do you feel about me comin' over there and kissing you all over your ridiculous face for an irresponsible amount of time?” Bitty asks with an air of extreme casualness.
Jack looks up again, his half-grin now fully formed. He shrugs, and mimicking Bitty's casual tone, says, “Je pense que je peux être persuadé.”
“Lord, Jack, that better be annoying French Canadian for, ‘Yes, please.’ I swear to God.” He rolls his eyes, and makes his way over to the couch.
Jack unceremoniously drops his phone down on the table next to Bitty’s and holds his hand out for him to take. “Yes, please,” he says with a new light in his eyes.
Bitty gladly lets Jack pull him down to him - he falls a little awkwardly onto his lap, but gets into a comfortable position, giggling as he fits his knees on either side of Jack’s hips. And he kisses that boy all over his ridiculous face. He starts on the lips, taking his time there. Then he kisses his temple, his nose, his cheek, he gently tugs on Jack’s earlobe with his teeth, and he basks in every sigh and hum that escapes Jack’s mouth. It's when he is working his way down Jack’s neck that Bitty starts to get more than a little annoyed at the persistent buzzing coming from the table - he never truly hates his cellphone except when it’s distracting him from kissing his boyfriend.
And then Jack says the five most perfect words he could possibly say in this moment.
“Alexa. Play Love On Top.”
The song begins to play, and Bitty is no longer kissing Jack.
He’s looking at him a little stunned. Jack’s expression is stuck somewhere between heavy-lidded contentment and a new growing confusion. “Sorry, the phones were starting to drive me crazy. Thought maybe some music might hel - “ Bitty cuts him off with a kiss. He kisses Jack deep and eager, and when he pulls back it leaves them both a little breathless.
“You are actually fucking perfect,” Bitty says, love drunk. He keeps their foreheads pressed together. He can feel Jack’s smile more than he can see it. He can also feel Jack’s hands moving from his back, down his spine, and finally finding their grip on his hips.
They linger there for a moment, just breathing in the same air. Bitty can tell that Jack wants to say something, it's the way that his brow furrows as he is overcome with some new feeling. But honestly, Jack sometimes takes an astonishingly long time to get his words out, and Bitty is quickly growing tired of not kissing him. He gently takes Jack’s chin in his hand and he kisses him a little softer this time, hoping that Jack gets the message. That Bitty understands what Jack is feeling - he understands because he feels it too - and words aren’t always necessary.