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Winter has officially arrived and made itself at home around Samwell, a thick layer of snow settling around the Haus as delicate icicles drip from the balcony. The air is fresh and crisp, buildings are adorned with ugly colored lights, and a terrifying blow-up snowman has been installed on the front lawn, courtesy of Chowder and Nursey.
Bitty has already finished his classes for the day, baking in the kitchen as he absently watches the gentle snow fall outside. He’s determined to make the Haus smell and feel as cozy as a frat house can be, already having produced a couple of apple and cinnamon pies that smell positively heavenly from where they sit cooling on the counter.
The text from Jack comes through on the group message as Bitty is mid-lattice, his fingers sticky with dough as he leans over to read the screen.
Jack: Who’s free 17th - 19th Dec?
Holster: My cousin’s birthday
Jack: My parents said we can have their cabin in Vermont for two nights
Shitty: Jack that place ain’t no cabin its some James Bond secret lair type shit
Lardo: !!!
Holster: Well FUCK my cousin
Lardo: Fuck your cousin?
Holster: Metaphorically
Holster: Count me in
Ransom: Me too! My presentation is the 16th. Lets get litty
Shitty: I’m obviously a yes, I love Mr and Mrs Z’s vacation homes
Jack: I still don’t get why you were invited to stay in New Jersey that one time and I wasn’t
Shitty: Bc I’m the favourite son babes
Jack: Lards you in?
Lardo: Always
Ransom: Bitty’s quiet, is he mid-pie?
By now, Bitty has finished his prep and cleaned off his hands, smiling as he picks up his phone.
Bitty: I was mid-pie. I’d love to come!!
Jack: Great, I’ll let Mom know
Lardo: Mid-pie you say?
Holster: We’re on our way home Bits save us some!! Don’t let the frogs take it all
Bitty giggles, thrilled at the idea of a mini vacation with his closest friends. He’s touched that Jack has included him, heart racing at the thought of two nights in a beautiful, snowy cabin with him.
Bitty: Ofc I’m saving you guys some ♡ Hurry though Chowder’s hungry
Ransom: Fucking hyped for vacay. We love Mr and Mrs Zimmermann
Jack: They love you too
Jack: Oh and Shitty - no weed. Not in my parents’ cabin
Shitty: But :(
Jack: I will frisk you if I have to
Shitty: All the more reason for me to bring some then
X
On the morning of the seventeenth, armed with Starbucks, Bitty’s blueberry muffins and enough alcohol to supply an army, the six of them pile into Holster’s jeep and begin their trip to Vermont.
“Oh, Holtz, for the record, we’re not listening to shit like this the whole way there,” Ransom says from the passenger seat as Taylor Swift blasts from the speakers.
Holster swiftly slaps Ransom’s hand away as it reaches out to change the playlist, eyes still focused on the road ahead. “Driver picks the music. Don’t like, don’t ride.”
“Hey Jack, who sings this?” Lardo asks with a smirk.
“Uhh.” Jack looks blank. “Taylor Swift?”
“That’s not fair,” Bitty laughs. “He guesses that every time.”
“Is this actually Taylor Swift?” Jack asks, wearing a small, fond smile as he looks at Bitty. “I kinda like it.”
Holster lets out a dramatic sigh, reaching out to change the song. “You ruined it. I will not share the same music taste as Jack old-man ‘back in my day’ ‘what’s a Beyonce’ Zimmermann.”
“Please, I educated him on our lord and savior ages ago,” Bitty jokes. “He loves her now.”
“Sure,” Jack says plainly, before adding completely deadpan, “You put my love on top.”
Everyone laughs, and Shitty reaches over to kiss Jack’s cheek, flirting, “I’ll put your love on top.”
Bitty and Jack laugh again, and Lardo interjects, “Before anyone asks, yes, Shitty has already spiked his own coffee this morning.”
“Why?” Jack asks, holding Shitty’s wrists to ward off the full force of a loved-up Shitty snuggle.
“We’re on motherfucking vacation!” Shitty answers, voice even louder than it usually is. “The real question is why am I the only one who spiked my coffee?”
“Holtz, this is no fucking better,” Ransom complains, the two of them still arguing in the front of the car. “Katy Perry, really?”
Holster doesn’t respond, instead just turning up the volume as he belts, “‘cause baby you’re a firework! Come on, let your colors burst!”
“You actually have a really pretty voice, Holster,” Bitty comments, sipping his latte. “Very striking.”
“Please, don’t encourage him,” Ransom says, exasperated as the two of them slap each other’s hands for control of the music.
“Aww, you two,” Lardo says as she scrolls through her phone. “The married couple bickering is just too much.”
When they finally arrive, everyone is achy from the car and Bitty knows he’s not the only one with a headache from Holster’s singing.
“You see now why we don’t encourage him?” Ransom says with a small, smug smile, hopping out of the car.
“Yeah, I see it now,” Bitty concedes. “That boy is a machine.”
“Hurry up, Bits, I’m gonna piss m’self,” Shitty grumbles as he gently nudges Bitty’s back to get him out the car faster. “Can’t believe you guys wouldn’t stop at that last gas station for me.”
“There was only ten minutes of the journey left,” Jack says simply, ever the realist as he fumbles for the cabin keys in his pocket. “You’re a grown-up, you should be able to hold it.”
“Fuck you,” Shitty retorts, grabbing the keys out of Jack’s hand and sprinting off through the untouched snow that blankets the front yard. “I’ll open up!”
Bitty watches Shitty go, his eyes drawn upwards to the luxury cabin. The exterior is wooden and classic, very homely, but it’s clearly been renovated in recent years with airy floor to ceiling windows along both sides of the house. Two large trees, almost bare now that they’ve lost their leaves for winter, create a cozy veil of privacy from the rest of the world, one even wrapped with fairy lights around the lower branches which gives a magical winter wonderland effect. The snow has fallen heavier here than it has on the roads, protected from the disruption of shoes and vehicles as it sparkles against the faint glow of solar lights along the front path.
Despite the biting cold, Bitty’s chest feels warm knowing that he’ll be tucked up here for two days with his best friends. Two days with Jack, all relaxed now that he’s been taken away from the stress of assignments and gruelling hockey practices for a short while.
Bitty’s moment is abruptly broken as a snowball smacks him square in the back of the head, shrieking from the cold as droplets of water drip down his neck. He already knows who’d thrown it without even having to look, spinning around with furious eyes. “Holster!”
Holster shoots him a shit-eating grin, hand already poised and reaching to make another.
Bitty, spurred on by his checking practices with one Mr Zimmermann, doesn’t give Holster a chance to reach down as he charges forwards and leaps up at him.
Holster is built like a tank so of course he catches Bitty no problem, but that doesn’t stop Bitty from attaching himself to Holster and using all of his body weight to try and take him down.
Holster barely moves an inch, looking at Bitty with a raised eyebrow. “Is that the best you can do, Bits?”
Bitty stays where he is, just long enough to see Lardo wink at him behind Holster’s back. She sneaks up to hand him a snowball which Bitty promptly shoves down the back of Holster’s jacket, vindicated.
Holster screeches, jerking from the cold and dropping Bitty straight on the ground. “Uncool! That was a dirty shot.”
“We feel okay about it,” Lardo replies, grabbing her bag from the trunk of the car and disappearing off towards the house before Holster can retaliate.
Bitty gets back to his feet, brushing snow off his coat and smirking. “Don’t underestimate us, sweetheart; we’re small but scrappy.”
“Are you guys coming in or are you staying out here bickering all day?” Jack calls to them from where he’s halfway up the garden path, blue eyes sparkling in the bright winter sun.
Everyone collects their bags before following Jack up to the front door, Bitty and Holster taking the lead as they shiver from the snowballs. They pile into the house, kicking snow off their shoes, and Bitty takes a moment to have a glance around.
It’s beautiful in here, like something out of those old cozy Christmas music videos. Dark hardwood floors with plush rugs spread through the cabin, though the space feels clean and bright with the sunlight pouring in through those large, modern windows. In the centre of the hallway is a grand staircase, lights wrapped around the bannister, and the hallway divides equally around the stairs into what looks like a dining area and a huge, inviting living room.
“Jack, it was so nice of you to invite us all here to remind us again how rich you are,” Holster says.
“You’re welcome,” Jack responds simply, pulling off his coat. “Do you guys want a tour?”
“Yes, I love looking around places,” Bitty beams as he takes off his gloves, wet from where Holster dropped him outside. “I’m a sucker for those house buying shows.”
“Me too!” Ransom agrees, following Jack as he heads down the hallway. “I’m expecting secret rooms and trap doors by the way, after the way Shitty described it.”
“I can’t promise trap doors,” Jack says, leading them left into the living room. “But I’m sure you’ll like the bar.”
“Oh my goodness, Jack, this place is gorgeous,” Bitty says as he takes in the living room, wanting to dive onto the enormous, cream couch in the center of the room and snuggle in the cushions. He eyes the brick fireplace that the couch faces, asking eagerly, “Can we light a fire later?”
“Sure. My mom said there should be firewood in the pantry.”
“The pantry,” Holster says incredulously. “Getting some real Downton Abbey vibes from you, Zimmermann. Particularly the old lady character.”
“What? That’s what it’s called,” Jack answers, his tone innocent. “It’s not that showy here, is it?”
Ransom snorts. “Somewhere back at Samwell, Dex is having an aneurysm.”
“I don’t mind if it’s showy or not, I think it’s lovely,” Bitty smiles, before gasping and grabbing Jack’s arm. “Please can I see the kitchen?”
“I thought that might be the bit you wanted to see most,” Jack smiles, leading everyone through to the open plan kitchen and dining room. “Will this be okay for you, Bittle?”
Bitty doesn’t respond verbally, too busy gawping at the double range, nearly new and probably rarely used, and the huge, brown marble counters with more than enough space for all the prep work he needs to do to feed four huge hockey players and a team manager. “Oh my God. I think I just cheated on Betsy.”
Holster, Ransom and Lardo are too busy inspecting the wall of photographs in the dining area to pay attention. Lardo points at a photo of who Bitty assumes is toddler Jack, and she comments, “Jack, my dude, you really did have a glow-up, didn’t you?”
Jack blushes a bit as he looks at the photos too. “So I’ve been told.”
“Your parents are straight up hotties, bet they thought there’d been a fucking terrible mix-up at the hospital when they were handed you! Look at that dumpling in the shape of a baby.” Holster chirps as he points at another baby photo.
“You’re so mean!” Bitty laughs, finally tearing himself away from his dream kitchen and joining the others. “Although, oh my god, Jack, I’m gonna need a copy of that one of you covered in porridge. Your eyes are like, sixty percent of your face.”
Jack shifts uncomfortably at all the attention. “Anyway. Moving on. Let me show you guys the bar.”
He takes them through the kitchen and down another hallway lined with potted artificial plants and framed artwork along the walls, opening a door and leading them into the bar. There’s a few extra amenities in here; another fridge, more counter space of the same brown marble style from the kitchen, and two cabinets with rows upon rows of bottles, sparkling from the LED under counter lights.
Predictably, it’s where they find Shitty, who has already taken a couple bottles and is perusing their labels at the counter.
“Oh, there you are,” Lardo comments, heading over to the counter too. “Was starting to wonder where you were.”
“Guys,” Shitty beams at them all with pure glee. “We’re gonna get so fucking schwasted tonight.”
“Do your parents mind if we drink some of this?” Ransom asks Jack. “This ain’t your regular beer and tub juice. It’s like, stuff that my grandpa drinks.”
“What’s brandy?” Bitty frowns as he reads some of the labels.
“It’s what rich, old people drink,” Holster answers, picking the bottle off the shelf. “Wanna try it?”
“Is it really okay for us to open this stuff?” Bitty asks Jack.
“Sure,” Jack says, answering Ransom’s question too. “My parents don’t mind, honestly. They said it’s a Christmas gift.”
“Fucking thank you, Mr and Mrs Z!” Shitty exclaims, holding up a bottle in cheers. “Why aren’t they here, Jack? You know Bad Bob is my bro.”
“And your mom’s a milf,” Holster adds, with Lardo nodding her head in agreement.
“They’re away visiting my mom’s sister,” Jack answers, swiftly stealing the bottle of brandy from Holster’s hand as punishment for his comment. “Don’t call my mom a milf.”
“Just speaking facts, Jack, even Bitty can admit your mom is smoking.”
“She is very pretty,” Bitty concedes. “I will refrain from calling her a milf though.”
“How about Bad Bob?” Lardo smirks. “He’s got some dilf energy about him, right?”
“I can throw you all out at any time, you know,” Jack grumbles.
The others laugh, and Bitty says, “Sorry, we’ll behave!”
Ransom takes a sip from the bottle of whatever that Shitty has just opened, wincing at the flavor before saying to Jack, “Hey, can we go look around upstairs too? I wanna explore some more.”
“Actually, there’s a couple more cool rooms downstairs that I wanted to show you.”
Jack takes them through to some more rooms in the house, showing them a full games room in the basement that’s just on the right side of garish with a pool table and an arcade game that makes Holster and Ransom lose their minds.
Then, back upstairs, he leads them into a truly stunning room that’s being used as a library, towering bookshelves almost touching the ceiling with a handful of cozy armchairs dotted around. The best feature of the room though, is the windows stretched across one wall completely, looking out onto a quiet lake frosted over with ice.
“That’s why I told you all to bring your skates,” Jack says with a small smile, eyes fixed on the lake as it glitters and sparkles beneath the afternoon sun. “Why don’t I show you where the bedrooms are upstairs and we can drop off our stuff and head out?”
“Do you own the lake too, Jack?” Ransom asks incredulously.
“No. But there’s hardly any other houses around here, I’ve only seen other people use the lake a handful of times when I’ve stayed here.”
“Awesome, we’ll tell people you own it,” Holster says, slapping Jack’s back before heading back out. “I’m ready to get out there, I gotta stretch after driving.”
Jack quickly goes after Holster, clearly not trusting him enough to go rampaging through the house. “Wait, okay, I’ll show you upstairs. There’s three bedrooms here, guys, so we’ll just work out the sleeping arrangements later.”
After Jack successfully herds the group upstairs and everyone has grabbed their skates, they head out the back door and walk the short distance down to the lake. It’s so peaceful here, the only sounds to be heard being the wind and the faint chirps of nearby birds perching in the pine trees.
Holster, Ransom and Shitty immediately tear onto the ice, racing and shoving each other, and Bitty hangs back with Lardo to help her delicately step onto the ice. Lardo has basic skating skills and she can hold her own, but skating on frozen water is different to just being in a rink, and Bitty wants to make sure she’s safe. He holds her hand as they skate over to the others, happily showing the guys how to do a few little figure skating tricks.
At one point, Bitty stops for a breather, skating off the ice and grabbing his water bottle off the snow. Jack is there, hardly paying attention to him as he snaps photos of the others on his camera.
“Those will be some lovely photos,” Bitty says once he’s had a drink, smiling up at Jack.
Jack brings the camera down, wearing a little smile himself. Bitty doesn’t often see him so relaxed, and he finds himself hoping to see this much more often. “Yeah, the lighting is great.”
They’re quiet together for a moment as they watch Shitty dragging Lardo around the ice, distantly hearing her yelling at him to slow down.
“If we get time tomorrow, we should make some maple candy,” Jack says out of nowhere, and Bitty’s gaze returns to him.
“Oh, yeah,” Bitty says, a little frown caught between his eyebrows. “Tell me again what that is? Ransom tried explaining it to me once but I had no idea what that boy was talking about.”
“It’s this Canadian snack, but people also do it up here in New England as well, basically anywhere with a lot of snow. You heat up the maple syrup and then pour it onto snow, so it goes hard like a lollipop.”
“So it’s literally just maple syrup and snow? Straight up snow from the ground?”
“Yes. It’s very good, I used to make it with my mom.”
Bitty lets out a long suffering sigh. “I’ll take your word for it. But I would be willing to try a bit.”
Jack smiles. “Okay. It’s not as good as anything you make, though.”
Bitty immediately glows from the compliment, lighting up from the inside. “Why, thank you. You’d think I’d get tired of nice words about my baking, but I really don’t.”
Jack laughs. “Speaking of, we should probably head back soon since we need to sort out dinner.”
“Yes, and I want to whip up a couple of pies for dessert. I’m just dying to try out that beautiful oven!”
X
Once off the ice and back in the cabin, the group disbands for a short while as everyone takes quick showers to warm up and changes their clothes. Bitty was the first to get ready, before dashing back downstairs and letting himself into the kitchen with unabashed glee like a kid in a sweet shop.
He’s just humming to himself as he rolls out his batter when Holster enters the kitchen. Bitty does a quick glance beside him, expecting to see Ransom too but seeing that Holster is on his own. “Hey, Holster. Where’s your other half?”
“In the shower,” Holster says, not even batting an eyelid at Bitty’s phrasing. He reaches over and carefully pokes his finger in the filling Bitty has already prepared, complaining when Bitty swiftly slaps his hand away.
Bitty rolls his eyes, looking up to scold Holster on basic kitchen etiquette when he’s quickly distracted by something much more important. “What are you wearing?”
Holster beams, perking up that Bitty has noticed. He straightens up, modelling what Bitty can only describe as the most god awful sweater he’s ever seen in his life. “I found it in the closet, it must be Jack’s dad’s, or something. How sophisticated do I look right now?”
“It’s…” Bitty gives it the side-eye. It’s a thick cable knit in a very washed out kind of beige color, with a folded collar and large buttons, and it manages to make Holster look around thirty years older than his actual age. “Honey, no.”
Holster pouts. “It’s my cream cable knit sweater! It’s fancy and comfortable, and I look very mature in it.”
“You definitely look mature,” Bitty says weakly. “Please take it off, I’m asking you nicely.”
“No.”
“I can’t bear to look at it.”
“You don’t understand, Bits,” Holster says, reaching into his pocket and then sliding on his glasses, thoroughly completing the Grandad Birkholtz look. “I’ve got a whole vibe going, I feel fucking glorious.”
Jack and Shitty save Bitty then by arriving too, both of them changed and ready to start prepping dinner. Jack does a double take when he sees Holster, asking, “Is that my dad’s sweater?”
“Mine now,” Holster says, unbelievably proud of himself. “Isn’t it perfect? It’s like it was made for me.”
Shitty lets out a loud laugh. “What are you, cosplaying as my grandpa? Take that shit off, man.”
“As someone who routinely walks around fucking dong first, you are in no position to have an opinion on what I wear,” Holster retorts, pointing a finger at Shitty.
“He makes a good point,” Bitty admits, resuming rolling his batter.
“You can keep the sweater if you want, Holtz, but I think there’s a reason my dad left it here and didn’t take it home with him,” Jack says, heading around the counter to stand with Bitty.
“Yes, and that reason was destiny. You’re all just jealous that I look so fucking good right now.”
Shitty snorts, but Bitty beats him to it before he can start chirping again. “Yes, honey, you’re right. Are you boys all here to help me start dinner once these pies are in the oven?”
X
Dinner is a team effort, everyone chipping in to help chop vegetables, prep the food, pour out drinks and lay the table. Afterwards, they have Bitty’s pie for dessert before retiring to the living room in front of the open fire, everyone flopping down and wanting to relax for a little while.
“I am stuffed,” Shitty says around a yawn.
Everyone hums in agreement, and Bitty curls in on himself a little more on the couch. The cabin is cozy, but it is also still mid-December and the place is surrounded by three feet of snow, so Bitty can’t help being a little chilly. “Hey, Jack, do you have any blankets in here?”
“Aww, you cold, Bits?” Shitty asks, clambering up from where he’d collapsed on the floor and joining Bitty on the couch. “C’mere.”
Bitty giggles, surprised but pleased as Shitty gathers him up and brings him in for a cuddle. “Thank you. This place is lovely but I’m still just a sunny southern boy at heart. I’m not built for snow.”
Lardo smirks, rolling her eyes as she chirps Shitty, “You are so needy, man. Any excuse for a whole snuggle fest.”
“I don’t accept that as an insult,” Shitty clips back, arms around Bitty and rubbing his back. “We’re all friends and we all fucking love each other, what’s wrong with a fuckin’ lil snuggle every now and then?”
“I’m not complaining,” Bitty mumbles happily, already feeling much warmer as he rests on Shitty’s shoulder, eyelids drooping. There’s something about Shitty that makes him so comfortable to be around, and Bitty feels safe and reassured when he’s with him.
“As the person who has to fight off your snuggles on a regular basis, I’m on Lardo’s side,” Jack interjects from where he’s sitting on the floor, leaning back on his hands in the most effortlessly handsome of ways.
“Man, y’all heartless,” Holster says, still nibbling on some cashews set out on the coffee table despite how much all of them just ate at dinner. “You’ve gotta open yourselves up to love at some point, and all that shit.”
“See, Holster’s on our side,” Bitty smiles.
“Yeah, get over here, Holtzy, come cuddle with us,” Shitty says, gesturing with his hand for Holster to come over.
Holster just rolls with it, hauling himself up onto the couch to sit beside Shitty and easily wrapping his huge arms around both Shitty and Bitty. Bitty giggles again, reaching over to gently hold Holster’s forearm and feeling warmth swell in his chest.
“Rans won’t admit it to the group, but he’s on Jack and Lardo’s side too,” Holster says with a raised eyebrow, swiftly throwing Ransom under the bus. “He’s not as bad as them but there’s been more than one occasion where we’ve fallen asleep next to each other and he’s kicked and slapped me before he’s even fully woke up.”
“It’s not that I’m opposed to it, I just like my space,” Ransom laughs, unbudging in his spot on the armchair. “And you’re huge, you’re like a fucking space heater. It’s too warm.”
“Well I’m seeing a pretty clear divide in our little group here,” Shitty says, Bitty, Holster and him all pressed together on the couch with Jack, Lardo and Ransom all a safe distance apart on the other side of the coffee table. “Think we’ve got our teams for drinking games later?”
“A hundred percent, we’ll take you fuckers down,” Holster says.
“Snugglers versus non-snugglers?” Bitty suggests.
“Yes,” Shitty says plainly. “Lovers versus non-lovers.”
Jack raises an eyebrow in challenge at Shitty. “Needy versus normal?”
“Loveable amazing friend versus cold fucking robot.”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it. What are we even playing?” Ransom asks. “And more importantly what are we playing for?”
“I’ve got this app that gives you challenges, it’s kinda like truth or dare but more fun,” Lardo offers. “And if you don’t do a challenge, you have to do a forfeit. Team with the most points wins.”
“What’s the forfeit?”
“Probably something to do with the snow, it is way too cold out there for human life,” Bitty grumbles, cuddling closer to Shitty.
“Oh my fuck, yeah, if you don’t do a challenge, you have to go out in the yard and do a naked snow angel,” Shitty exclaims, holding up a finger. “And I mean naked, I don’t mean stripping down to your panties and doing it. We’re talking full bare ass.”
“That sounds awful,” Jack deadpans.
“Well then you better not accept any forfeits, Jacky.”
“Ransom made another good point, what do the winners get?” Bitty asks. “Nobody say more food, I am way too full to get back in the kitchen anytime soon.”
“Fuck what the rest of you want, if we win, I’m keeping this goddamn sweater,” Holster says passionately. “I am a different man in my cream cable knit, it’s like I’ve been possessed by a powerful but fair CEO who golfs five times a week and drinks a lot of scotch but also diligently attends all my children’s clarinet recitals to support them and be there for them.”
“Highly specific.”
“I don’t care, I love it and I must have it forever.”
“Okay, we accept the terms,” Lardo says. “If the snugglers or lovers or whatever you wanna call yourselves win, Holster keeps the sweater. If we win, we’re pulling the sweater clean off his body and throwing it into the fire.”
Holster gasps. “Evil.”
“The fire may be a step too far,” Jack adds diplomatically. “But yeah, that sweater needs to go.”
Holster turns to Ransom with big eyes. “Rans, don’t turn against me like this.”
Ransom at least has the decency to look vaguely sympathetic. “Sorry, bro. I’ve made my choice.”
“Fucking betrayal.”
“Let’s start soon, yeah?” Lardo says to the group. “Right when I can fucking breathe again, because man, that was a lot of food.”
X
Bitty has mixed feelings about any game involving truth or dare style ‘challenges’, expecting it to be as embarrassing and pretty much on the same maturity level as a bunch of fourteen year olds hanging out.
Which it is. When the game starts with Lardo having to kiss the tallest person in the room (Holster), which Shitty and Ransom both film on their phones while cheering like they’re at a hockey game, Bitty takes a large gulp of brandy and resigns himself to a few hours of chaos.
“Okay, Shits,” Lardo says, the self-appointed ringmaster as she reads the next challenge off her phone. “Read the last text you received from a member of the group in a seductive voice.”
Everyone laughs at that, and Shitty pulls out his phone to see his messages. “Oh my fuck, guys, we’re in luck. Jack fucking Zimmermann texted me just this morning.”
“Oooh,” the rest of them chant, everyone apart from Jack drumming on the floor to build suspense as Jack just takes a small sip of his drink.
Shitty takes a quick glance at the message and tilts his head back, laughing uproariously for a second, before composing himself. “Okay, okay.” His voice drops an octave, putting on a smooth, sensual tone. “Shitty, for the last time, stop leaving your crap all over my room. I’ve just seen underwear under my desk which is definitely not mine because I know how to tidy up after myself, come in here when you’re up and get rid of it because I’m not touching it.”
The rest of them all fall apart laughing as Jack wears a small smirk, simply responding, “Maybe now you’ll actually remember to clean up after yourself.”
“Why ever would I do that when I could just keep trashing your room and wake up every morning to beautiful poems like this?” Shitty answers, waving his phone.
“Okay, Rans, you’re next,” Lardo says, moving the game along. She taps her phone, bringing up the next challenge. “Ooh, hit on a member of the opposite team like you’ve never met them before. I nominate Bitty.”
“Excuse me?” Bitty laughs, cheeks immediately filling with color at any challenge remotely flirtatious.
“Don’t act like you’re mad about it, Bits,” Ransom says, shuffling over to Bitty and slowly sliding an arm around his shoulders. He brings his face in closer, murmuring lowly, “Hey, sugar. You come here often?”
Bitty can’t contain his giggles, managing to respond, “Um, no, it’s my first time here.”
“Oh really? Well, I can help you pop that first-time cherry if you want…”
Bitty squeals as Ransom pretends to lean in for a kiss, gently pushing his face away and trying to calm down his blush.
“Ooh, Rans, didn’t know you had any game in you,” Shitty jokes.
Lardo rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t. Get back over here, that was awful. At least we got the point.”
“It’s me next, right?” Holster asks, taking a big swig of his drink.
“Okay, Holtz,” Lardo says, bringing up the next challenge on her phone. “Go on instagram and like someone’s last ten photos in a row.”
“It’s gotta be Esther Shapiro,” Jack immediately pipes up.
Holster’s face rapidly pales, and Shitty and Ransom start yelling in approval.
Holster only groans, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “You actually fucking suck, Jack. I hope your dick gets frostbite when you inevitably have to do a naked snow angel later.”
Jack only smiles. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. You could just get a frostbitten dick yourself.”
“You suck. You are the itchy rash in the armpit of life.”
“Sometimes I worry that Jack is gonna become an evil supervillain,” Ransom comments, eyeing Jack. “Look at him so calm and smug right now. All he needs is a white cat to pet.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, still wearing an unnerving smile. “C’mon, Holster. We haven’t got all night.”
Holster grumbles, opening Instagram as Lardo checks over his shoulder that he’s actually doing it. “I fucking hate you all. There, wonderful, I did it, now I look like a crazy psycho stalker. Can’t wait for her to call the cops on me.”
“Worth it. We get the point!” Shitty beams.
Bitty’s cheeks hurt from laughing so much, and the game carries on from there with Bitty and Lardo imitating some beautiful couple’s yoga poses together, Ransom sucking down on a popsicle with such surprising ease that it makes everyone stop and stare at him in mortified silence, and Jack, after being dared to discuss a dirty fantasy, stumbling through a very awkward and mumbled description of having sex on or in the near vicinity of a hockey rink.
“I knew you were sexually attracted to hockey,” Holster says when Jack is finished, shaking his head in dismay. “In this fantasy, are you with an actual living person, or are you just grinding on a hockey stick?”
Jack, shoulders hunched and expression tensed, doesn’t answer the question. “Can we move on, please?”
“Absolutely,” Lardo says, turning her attention back to her phone. “There are some things I never need to know about this team and that is bordering on one of them. Okay, Shitty - suck whipped cream off the finger of the person with the shortest name.”
Shitty laughs loudly. “Oh, Jack, it’s your lucky fucking day. Bits, we have whipped cream, right?”
“It’s in the fridge, but please note I brought it for our pie and not for filthy sex games,” Bitty says weakly, offended to be wasting ingredients.
Shitty disappears to the kitchen before returning with the cream, dropping to his knees beside Jack and shuffling closer to him. He jokes as he shakes the can, “C’mon, babes, give me that finger.”
Jack’s face screws up. “I will if you promise to never say that to me ever again.”
Shitty only laughs, taking Jack’s wrist and bringing his hand closer so he can squirt a generous amount of cream onto Jack’s finger.
“We’re filming this one!” Ransom says, he and Holster both holding up their phones.
“Ready?” Shitty asks, not waiting for an answer as he brings Jack’s hand up to his lips and starts sucking Jack’s finger. Bitty can’t help blushing a little as Shitty bobs his head, averting his eyes with an awkward laugh.
“Woo, get it!” Holster and Ransom whoop as they film, and Jack eventually pulls his finger free with a short laugh, cheeks a little pinker than before.
“You’re welcome for the fucking free show, everyone,” Shitty says as he sits back down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What an honor,” Ransom jokes.
“So guys, did that remind you of anything?” Lardo suddenly asks, raising her eyebrow pointedly.
Bitty eyebrows fly up, drink paused halfway up to his lips as he glances at Jack and Shitty.
Shitty only smirks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Lards.”
“Oh, come on,” she laughs. “We’ve been asking for years if you two ever got it on in freshman year and you always get all weird and tight-lipped.”
Jack rubs his face, wearing a mildly amused expression, and Shitty replies, “We have no comment on the matter.”
“Please.” Holster rolls his eyes. “If nothing happened, then you’d just say that. The fact that you both get all weird about it every time we ask is just proof that something definitely did happen.”
“Well if you think you already have your answer then why do you keep asking?” Shitty says mysteriously.
“Come on, just tell us yes or no!” Ransom pleads. “Stop talking like a Bond villain.”
“Sorry, I’m not in a position to provide any further statement,” is all Shitty says, and Bitty blushes a little more as Shitty comes back to sit beside him.
“Well at least we know one thing; you’re already a pro at speaking like an annoying lawyer,” Lardo sighs, giving up. “One day you’ll both slip up and tell us.”
“I get my point, right?” Shitty replies smoothly, turning the topic of conversation back to the game.
“Yes, the snugglers get the point.”
Bitty can’t help glancing up at Jack, wondering if it’s true that something happened between him and Shitty back when they were freshmen. He’d like to ask, but he doubts Jack would tell him.
After a couple more rounds, the vague tension in the air is forgotten and the group returns to the usually scheduled levels of nonsense and loud talking. Everyone’s cheeks are flushed from the brandy, words a little sloppier and limbs clumsier.
“Let’s do a couple more rounds and then we might have to call this a tie,” Lardo tells them, ever the manager as she reigns them all in. “No naked snow angels tonight. Maybe tomorrow it’ll happen. Okay, Holtz, give someone on the opposite team a lap dance.”
“Ransom!” Shitty immediately shouts, sloshing his drink as he points at a wide-eyed Ransom.
Holster rolls his eyes. “You guys are too predictable. Rans, go sit on the chair.”
“Wait, wait, you’ve gotta do it properly,” Bitty giggles, pulling out his phone and opening Spotify to find the perfect soundtrack for them. He quickly finds the right one, turning his volume all the way up and pressing play on ‘Pony’.
Ransom laughs and Holster just rolls his eyes again as he gets up and approaches where Ransom has sat down on one of the dining chairs. Shitty and Lardo quickly get ready with their phones to film again, cheering for Holster to start.
Holster steps closer to Ransom, picking up his hand and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it before bracing his hands on each side of Ransom on the back of the chair, straddling him and grinding in time to the music. Everyone screams as Holster takes Ransom’s hand again and places it on his chest, slowly pushing it down his torso until it’s barely grazing the top of his crotch. Ransom laughs loudly, head tilting back as he lets Holster do his thing, and Bitty thinks not for the first time that, with their chemistry, Holster and Ransom would actually make a pretty great couple.
Holster doesn’t keep going for much longer, grinding a little more before pulling back with a laugh and taking a quick, theatrical bow for his audience.
“Fuck me, that was actually good!” Shitty laughs, putting his phone down. “Why am I turned on right now?!”
“Yeah, I’m gonna give you double points for that one,” Lardo agrees. “You earned it.”
“Thanks,” Holster says as he returns to the group. “Maybe I’ll charge for it next time.”
“Next time?” Ransom repeats jokingly, coming to sit down with them again as well. Holster just chuckles, taking another sip of his drink.
“Okay, Bits, you’re the last one,” Lardo says, yawning. “Because this brandy is making me sleepy. Oh, this is a spicy one - choose the person in the room who you’d most like to kiss.”
Bitty swiftly turns a very unattractive shade of fuchsia as the boys all start chanting and cheering. His mind helpfully supplies him with Jack’s name but he can’t even bring himself to look in his captain’s direction, mortified by the question. Yes, he has daydreams and fantasies pretty much every day about Jack taking him in his huge, strong arms, laying him down on a breezy beach or perhaps a meadow of wildflowers, and kissing him. Yes, he would also subsequently die if he tried to plant one on Jack in front of all of their drunk, obnoxious friends, as Jack politely laughed it off.
So Bitty quickly settles on a safe answer. “Well, as lovely as you all are, I can’t say I’ve been thinking about kissing anyone here. However, I would be curious to know what Shitty’s mustache actually felt like.”
Everyone laughs at that, and Shitty says, “Well there’s only one way to find out, our sweet Bits.”
“Uh, I don’t think that was the challenge,” Bitty says, raising a finger at Shitty to hold him back.
“Actually I think it’s open to interpretation,” Lardo weighs in.
“And we interpret it as yes, you do have to follow through with the kiss,” Ransom adds.
“C’mon, plant a big smoochy on him, Bits,” Holster teases. “You know you wanna feel that itchy mustache burn all over your face.”
“Hey, now, I’m a gentle lover,” Shitty jokes, before moving closer to Bitty and wrapping his arm around him. “Get in here, Bits.”
Bitty rolls his eyes, accepting his fate as Shitty leans in to cup his cheek and kisses him. It’s very chaste, but sweet, and it makes Bitty feel safe and warm in his belly. He manages a few seconds before pulling away, dissolving into giggles. “It’s tickly!”
“For real, that thing isn’t itchy?” Holster frowns, disbelieving.
“Get over here and I’ll fucking prove it,” Shitty answers, puckering his lips in Holster’s direction.
“Do I have to?”
“Wait, that means we win, right?” Bitty asks Lardo.
“Yes, you did technically win since Holster got double points for the lap dance.”
Bitty, Holster and Shitty all cheer, and Bitty squeals as Holster and Shitty both pile on top of him in a celebratory hug.
“How does it feel to get beat by a bunch of snugglers?” Shitty taunts the others. “Love wins. Team, we need a three way kiss.”
Holster, still draped over Bitty, quickly concedes. “Fine, only because I’m so damn happy I get to keep this sweater.”
Bitty snorts to himself before making a ‘mmf’ noise as Shitty and Holster both lean in to kiss him at the same time, giggling as they pull away and roll off him.
“Huh, I guess it isn’t that itchy,” Holster says in surprise, touching his own mouth. “Bitty’s right though, that shit’s ticklish. How do you ever go down on anyone?”
“Okay,” Jack says quickly, his Captain Voice coming into play as he gets to his feet. “Game’s over, well done to the winners. Probably time to start winding down.”
“It’s still not that late, shall we watch a movie or something?” Holster suggests.
“Ooh good idea, and I can make us hot chocolate,” Bitty offers with a smile.
“That we can spike with something!” Shitty says, eyes lighting up. “I’ll go loot the bar again.”
Shitty gets up and dashes off, Lardo and Ransom following him to gather movie night supplies for them all. Bitty heads off to the kitchen, leaving Jack and Holster to bicker over what movie they’re going to watch from the limited selection of DVDs that are kept in the cabin.
By the time Bitty has rooted through the cupboards until he finds some hot chocolate powder, he’s being joined by Jack in the kitchen. “Oh, there you are! That was a speedy movie decision.”
Jack looks only a little pained as he usually is after fighting with Holster. “We haven’t fully decided. I said we’ll take a vote when everyone’s back in the room, but Holster is set on Dirty Dancing.”
“Oh goodness, someone must be feeling romantic,” Bitty jokes, pulling open the cutlery drawer for a spoon. “I’m guessing from your face that that’s not your thing?”
Jack just shrugs a bit. “I don’t mind it. I’m not a big movie guy, honestly, so I guess I don’t have a leg to stand on.”
Bitty gasps. “Well, gosh, don’t you need a movie education, mister? Dirty Dancing is sweet, I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“Can I help with the drinks?”
“Of course, it’d be very helpful if you could help me find some mugs in this giant monstrosity of a kitchen.”
Jack nods, walking over to stand closer to Bitty as he reaches into one of the higher cupboards for the mugs. Bitty grabs the marshmallows they’d brought with them for the trip, sighing as he realises the whipped cream is still in the living room from Shitty and Jack’s earlier performance.
“Hey, Bittle,” Jack suddenly asks, not looking at Bitty as he brings the mugs out of the cupboard and places them on the counter. “Just about the sleeping arrangements. Like I mentioned earlier, there’s three bedrooms here, so Holster and Ransom are gonna take one, and, if you want, maybe you could room with me?”
“Oh,” Bitty says, unable to hide the surprise from his tone as well as his face. “Yes, of course! I guess I just… assumed you’d be with Shitty?”
“He gets in bed with me all the time back at Samwell,” Jack says, glancing at Bitty with a small smile. “I’m sure he can survive a couple nights without me. Besides, somebody needs to give him and Lardo a gentle nudge.”
Bitty laughs. “Jack Zimmermann, who knew you were such a matchmaker? But yeah, that’s no problem, I’d be happy to room with you.”
As he bustles about making the hot chocolates, he deliberately doesn’t look in Jack’s direction for the sake of hiding the faint blush that’s graced his cheeks. He and Jack are better friends now than they were last year, but that doesn’t mean Bitty was expecting them to be sharing a bed anytime soon. And of course there’s the slight issue of Bitty’s giant crush on his captain; how is he supposed to handle lying beside Jack all night, feeling his body heat, hearing his gentle snores, their knees and elbows brushing against each other?
Bitty can’t help wondering why Jack made the offer. Despite Jack’s grumbling, the person he’s closest to is Shitty, and the two of them are always in bed together at Samwell, clearly very comfortable around each other.
Bitty’s blush darkens as he thinks about how he always hears Jack and Shitty talking and laughing together when they’re in his room, and now tonight it’s going to be Bitty in that position instead. It feels very intimate, and they haven’t even gone upstairs yet.
Could it be a sign of some kind? Or is Jack just being polite and trying to make Bitty feel included?
Either way, Bitty is quietly excited.
When the drinks are prepared and everyone is finally settled, they turn on the movie, everyone feeling happy enough to go along with Holster’s movie choice. Bitty curls up with Shitty and Holster, and they even manage to get Jack, Lardo and Ransom to join them on the couch despite all their shtick earlier about not liking too much physical contact.
“I’ve never actually seen this,” Ransom says as the movie starts.
“Me neither,” Jack and Lardo agree, and Shitty adds, “I think I saw it once when I was like fifteen.”
“It’s very sweet,” Bitty tells them, having seen it a couple of times himself. “And it’s basically just a lot of people dancing like Holster did during his lap dance earlier.”
“Fucking preach,” Holster says, sipping his drink. “Fuck me, this is boozy. How much did you two put in?”
Shitty and Lardo, both the ones in charge of spiking, shrug cluelessly. Shitty says, “Honestly, we had no fucking idea how much to use so we just kinda eyeballed the bourbon.”
“Why didn’t you google it?” Jack asks.
“Get out of here with your logic, Zimmermann.”
Everyone is relatively quiet as they watch the movie, the strong bourbon hot chocolates making them all pretty sleepy. Bitty, pressed between Jack and Shitty, can’t help blushing to himself every time Johnny and Baby kiss on screen, hiding his pink cheek against Shitty’s shoulder.
When the movie ends, everyone stretches and starts to slowly get up, gathering their blankets and empty mugs.
“Oh my God, that was fucking mushy,” Ransom says as he stretches his arms up to click his back. “But it was actually pretty good.”
“Yeah, I always like the bit where they’re doing the lift in the water,” Bitty adds around his yawn.
“And when they dance right before they fuck,” is Holster’s tactless contribution.
“How about you, Jacky?” Shitty asks. “Please, bestow upon us your detailed, emotional, poetic review. Thoughts, comments, questions?”
Jack picks up the remote off the coffee table to turn the tv off. “It was nice.”
Everyone laughs, and Lardo deadpans, “Nursey is quaking.”
Once the dirty mugs have been deposited in the kitchen and the fire has been put out, everyone heads for the stairs. Bitty can’t stop yawning, very relaxed after a fun evening with his pals.
“Oh wait, before you all leave,” Jack says, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Uh, I guess I just wanted to say I’m really glad you all came with me this weekend. I really like this place but growing up I was just kinda staying here with my parents, or hiding from my relatives when I was being awkward. So it’s… this is fun. A few years ago I didn’t, um, when I was in rehab I thought that… I don’t know. Shitty’s done so much for me, and it’s just nice to have all you guys now.”
Bitty melts, his stomach doing a small flip at Jack’s surprising emotional words. He’s probably heard Jack mention his time in rehab once or twice in the whole time he’s known him, and he knows it’s big for Jack to address it openly in a group of people like this.
“Brah!” Shitty exclaims, coming over to Jack and wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a sweet hug, kissing his cheek. “Of course, Jack, we’re always here.”
“We love you, bro,” Ransom says, patting Jack’s shoulder.
“Yeah, thanks for having us here, it’s been awesome,” Holster adds.
Jack just smiles gratefully, arms around Shitty as he blushes quietly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make that into a whole speech.”
Lardo squeezes his arm. “Don’t need to apologize, Captain. Okay, love you all but I’m gonna pass out standing up if we don’t go to bed now.”
With pretty much everyone yawning by now, the group trudges upstairs to bed. It takes longer than it really should for them to get ready with everyone rummaging through their bags to work out who packed the toothpaste, bickering over who gets the biggest room, and Holster serenading the group with his own rendition of The Time of My Life. Impressive, since he does the whole thing with his toothbrush in his mouth.
As everyone finally starts winding down, Bitty can’t help but feel a little stab of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, hoping his night with Jack runs smoothly and he doesn’t do anything to embarrass himself. Holster and Ransom retire to their room, the two of them winning the battle for the master since everyone begrudgingly agrees that they have the biggest combined body size, and Lardo disappears into the bathroom.
Bitty and Jack both stop to speak to Shitty in their respective bedroom doorways before they say goodnight, Shitty predictably complaining as he has been ever since he found out Jack had chosen not to room with him tonight.
“Can’t believe you booted me out of your room,” Shitty says, only half joking. “I don’t think Lards is gonna spoon me and play with my hair until I go to sleep.”
Jack rolls his eyes. “I did that one time and now you won’t let it go.”
“Yes, because I believe that one day your cold, robot heart will de-thaw and you’ll do it again,” Shitty says, looking at Bitty and shooting him a wink. “Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight, Bits!”
Bitty knows Shitty is just talking about spooning, but the innuendo of his words mortifies him. He stumbles to speak for a moment before playing it safe and swiftly turning the focus back to Shitty. “Maybe you should ask Lards nicely and you might get lucky too.”
“I’m not counting on it. She’s already told me I’m not allowed to sleep naked,” Shitty sighs mournfully. “You know I get uncomfy in bed wearing clothes!”
“My heart bleeds for you,” Jack says sarcastically, no sympathy at all in his words as he steps into the bedroom. “Goodnight.”
Bitty lets him step past, ready to go to bed too. He’s still warm and a little unsteady from all the drinks tonight, smiling at Shitty and leaning up on his tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Love you. Night!”
“Love you, too, Bits.”
“Goodnight, everyone!” Bitty calls, hearing a few muffled responses as he heads into the bedroom and closes the door.
It’s suddenly a lot quieter now without the background noise of the others puttering around. Bitty forces himself to move his feet and walk over to the bed, climbing in carefully and watching as Jack retrieves his phone charger from his bag and plugs it into the wall.
Once Jack has sorted his phone, he slides into bed too, casual and straight-faced as ever. “Do you mind if I turn the light off now?”
“Sure.”
Jack leans over to turn off the bedside light, and the two of them quietly get settled for a moment. It feels very intimate, and Bitty is glad for the darkness, a helpful mask for his blush.
“So,” Bitty says softly after a pause. “Did you really like Dirty Dancing?”
“Yes, it was sweet.”
“Yeah. I don’t really watch romantic movies like that very often but it’s fun, with all the dancing and everything.”
“It was interesting. Much better than having to watch Holster’s dance earlier.”
Bitty laughs at the sudden chirp. “Don’t let him hear you say that. I think he’d throw you out in the snow.”
Jack chuckles quietly, and Bitty hears the sheets rustle as Jack rearranges himself. “I’m glad you could make it this weekend, Bittle.”
“Thank you for having me,” Bitty murmurs, beaming. “It means a lot that you want us all here with you, since, well I mean… what you said earlier about…”
“Yeah,” Jack replies, knowing what Bitty is referring to without him actually having to say it. “It’s… this is a private place for me, and I also came here to spend time sometimes before I came to Samwell, too. I found it calming. And it’s nice to be able to share it with all of you now, I guess it’s… therapeutic in a way.”
Bitty, spurred on by the lack of light in the room hiding their faces, reaches over and gently rests a hand on Jack’s forearm, squeezing. He hears Jack suck in a quiet breath. “I understand. I’m glad you feel that way about us. About… everything.”
“Yeah,” Jack murmurs, his voice soft. “Me too.”
Bitty slowly takes his hand away from Jack, not wanting to ruin the moment by making Jack uncomfortable. “So. Are you going to show me how to make maple candy tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. As a baker, I’m shocked that you don’t already know how to do it,” Jack teases, his smirk coming through in his voice.
Bitty gasps. “Jack Zimmermann, that is blasphemous. I won’t let you step foot in my kitchen tomorrow if you’re only going to chirp me.”
“You mean my parents’ kitchen?”
“I can make any kitchen my own kitchen,” Bitty says simply. “Once I’ve christened the oven with a pie or two. I didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”
“I wouldn’t dare to.”
“Good. What else are we planning on doing tomorrow?”
“Well, everyone’s probably going to be a little hungover,” Jack contemplates. “Do you think I could enforce a morning practice session?”
“Only if you’re evil. Holster would actually murder you.”
Jack laughs. “Just because the semester’s over doesn’t mean practice has to stop.”
“You are a machine, Mr Zimmermann. You’re not allowed to organise a morning practice tomorrow, you’re staying inside and I’m giving you a cup of tea and putting a blanket around your shoulders. When was the last time you had a lazy morning?”
“Hmm. I don’t exactly do lazy mornings.”
“Well, we’ll teach you how,” Bitty smiles. “I saw some board games in the closet earlier, maybe we could just hang out and play some games.”
“Yeah,” Jack agrees, fondness lacing his tone. “Yeah, I guess that could be nice.”
Bitty hums happily before letting out a large yawn, snuggling down into the blankets. Jack isn’t close enough to touch, but his body heat is radiating, and it’s making Bitty very drowsy.
Bitty’s yawn is passed on to Jack, who chuckles quietly before saying, “On that note, we should probably go to sleep.”
“‘kay. You’re too warm and toasty for your own good, you know. G’night, Jack.”
“Night, Bittle. Sweet dreams.”