Chapter Text
Jack stretches deliciously in bed, knowing without touch or sight that Eric Richard Bittle is still next to him. At first, he thought it was only on the ice that they had this connection, knowing just where Bitty’s speed would take him to perfect no-look passes from stick to stick. And then in the Haus you could follow the sound of his music, even if his nose wasn’t guiding him to good smells. And around campus, well, Jack did try to keep track of everyone’s schedules. And now, Jack can feel the depths of relaxation, calm, and well-being that he only feels when waking up next to Bitty, the warmth that radiates out even when they’re not in physical contact. He cracks open his eyes. His Bits is curled up facing away from him, the extra blanket that’s just for the Southerner side of the bed spread out on top of the duvet.
Jack wants to wake him up, so badly. Slide his arms around him, nuzzle into the back of his neck, press up against his backside and stroke lazily over his chest and nipples until Bitty murmurs, then groans, then demands morning teeth-brushing before make-outs. But a twinge of soreness in his dick and a lingering ache of his muscles reminds him of just how badly he wore Bitty out last night so he decides to be a gracious top and let him sleep. Bitty does the same for him after an intense night.
He can’t bring himself to start the day, either. He slips out to pee and brush his teeth, then grabs a protein smoothie and his phone before sliding back into bed. He admires Bitty for a few minutes, what he can see of him at least, tousled hair and long eyelashes and soft lips parted in sleep. He drags his eyes away when the urge to touch makes his fingers twitch and determinedly unlocks his phone. Maybe he can catch up on e-mails.
His notifications are…. a mess. He’s had his phone silenced overnight and the messages have been pouring in across different platforms, Georgia and his parents most of all. He thumbs open the text from Georgia. Well, Jack, this is most certainly not what we were expecting. The truth will come out soon and it’ll probably all blow over quickly, but I don’t think there’s any way to avoid the underlying questions. How would you like to handle this?
From his dad: >I’m furious but also worried about you and Bitty but also laughing because that video… it’s classic. But worried for him, too, when he realizes what happened. Have you heard from the man of the hour or is he still sleeping it off?<
Jack puts down his phone, closes his eyes, and does some breathing exercises. He sips his smoothie, reminding himself that hunger is a major anxiety trigger. But he can’t figure out an appropriate reaction if he doesn’t even know what’s going on. He grips his phone in both hands and shakily pulls up his Google alerts. Deadspin and TMZ top the list. Of course. He clicks the article that promises the most words and pictures, and……
Jack squints at his phone, then over at his beautiful sleeping boyfriend, then back at his phone. The headline screams, “JACK ZIMMERMANN OUTED BY BF’S DRUNKEN RANT!”
He frowns in confusion. Bitty is here, has been here, and is so careful about drinking in public, especially now that he has a secret NHL boyfriend…. who may not be a secret anymore.
He doesn’t want to wake said boyfriend so he scrolls past the embedded video and down to the gallery that promises, “Years of Flamboyant, Forbidden Love.” Years? He wishes. Flamboyant? Bitty is many things- fierce, yes- fabulous, certainly- but he never struck Jack as flamboyant. He hesitates, then taps on the first picture. And there is Jack, smiling, laughing, looking happy, a hand on his face squishing one cheek while the other gets enthusiastically kissed…. by his flamboyant, mustachioed best friend. Great.
“Well,” Jack whispers to himself. “This is….. Shitty.”
He taps back to Google and searches for a transcripted version of the video to watch on mute. He didn’t even know there were YouTube channels dedicated to deaf hockey fans, but hey. Maybe he should think about that more- accessibility and barriers to enjoying the sport. Do the sports announcers narrate the action well enough for a blind fan to follow and enjoy it? He makes a note to look into it later then clicks play.
The video is of a dimly lit bar full of wood paneling, leather chairs, and small chandeliers at every table. Harvard aesthetic, but clearly trying too hard. A TV over the bar is broadcasting Jack’s game live so this had to have been taken last night. The quality suggests a cell phone that’s been zoomed in to max on the booth Shitty is sharing with several Harvard-looking bros. Shitty is plastered and doing his best attempt at a seated celly. The transcript and video picks up mid-sentence.
“-gorgeous goal, Jack, you beautiful beaut, I love you so goddamn much, look at those soft hands, gonna lay on the smackeroos next time I see that fine Canadian mug, fuckin’ clutch shot, that gorgeous ass is just flying down the ice, Jackabelle, you amazeballs motherfucker, what a GOALLLLL!” It looks like he’s doing the whisper-shout thing that’s never as quiet as he thinks, practically when he’s several shots in. Must be, for whoever’s recording this to pick it up. The bros he’s with look shocked and confused as the video continues.
"Dude, Knight, we totally thought you were straight."
"Straight? STRAIGHT? As if sexual orientation is going to stop me from expressing my love for this handsome hockey robot hunk in the most manly fashion? Your heteronormative narrative has trapped you in a society devoid of bro kisses and drunken make-outs, of dudes proclaiming their emotions and love in the most masculine of ways, of-"
Jack pauses the video. He knows how this rant goes, has heard it a million times over the past 5 years. He also knows how it'll sound to an outsider, knows how many lax bros and other jocks and straights it has confused over the years, too, even at Samwell. There's no explaining Shitty and now.... sports analysts and gossip columnists across the continent are going to try.
Jack takes a moment to assess his reaction. He always thought that getting outed involuntarily would send him into an immediate panic attack. And he’s stressed, sure. His mind is whirling with all the implications and possibilities and the plans the Falconers have to handle such a situation and Bitty’s parents still not knowing he’s gay and he's spent the past 10 years terrified of being outed by the media and he doesn't know what to do but it’s…. muted, somehow. It doesn't seem real. The media actually thinks he’s dating Shitty? How can he possibly take this seriously? How can anyone?
But when he denies it all, when he laughs it off as a big misunderstanding, symptomatic of Shitty's particular brand of extreme manly feminism, it'll be blatantly obvious if he never affirms his straightness. He looks down at the blonde head next to him and strokes Bitty's hair softly. Decision time.
But first, maybe a little more panicking. And some stifled snickers. Followed by some panicking. Maybe? Time to see what the rest of the video has to say.