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Bitty’s just relieved that everyone knows. It had been hard to keep his relationship with Jack a secret from the team, much less the rest of the world. At least now they can be open in the Haus, even if it's going to cost them (well, Jack) a lot of money.
He and Jack are still a little post-nap groggy as they sit around the living room with the rest of the residents of the Haus, picking at the pizzas they’d ordered for dinner. Bitty couldn’t be bothered to cook for once, he was just too physically and emotionally drained from the events of the previous 24 hours. (Except for pie. Of course there was pie. As if there wouldn’t be pie.)
He’s sitting on the floor between Shitty and Jack, tucked under his boyfriend’s arm, slowly coming back to wakefulness when Ransom points at the two of them.
“This all makes sense, now that I think about it. I mean, the fanfic about you two hasn’t exactly been G rated.”
“Excuse me?” Bitty is suddenly wide awake. “The fanfic? About us?”
“Oh. I mean, yeah. Jack is well-known enough to get some RPF written about him, and look, people have seen you two hanging out together, so it was pretty much inevitable. I mean, your twitter didn’t exactly help.”
“Inevitable?” Bitty repeats.
“I mean, Zimbits fic is probably the fastest growing ship right now in the Hockey RPF fandom.”
“I’m sorry, what?!”
“Hockey RPF, it means real per...”
“I know what that means. Before that.”
“Zimbits?” he replies with a laugh.
“Mmmhmmm.” Bitty narrows his eyes.
He looks up at Lardo, who is sitting on the couch, running her fingers through Shitty’s hair. (When she'd started, Dex had leaned forward and Bitty had seen him start to hold his hand out for the fine, but he'd snatched his hand back at the look on her face.) Shitty is sitting on the floor at her feet.
“So that’d make y’all, what, Shardo?”
Lardo rolls her eyes while Shitty’s face lights up.
"Shardo! That's fucking epic, brah."
“If only it was Shitty and Bitty together…imagine the possibilities,” Lardo says.
“Shittle,” suggests Holster.
“ShitBits,” Ransom chimes in.
“No. I have it. ‘Shitty Shitty Bang Bang!’” Shitty exclaims.
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Bitty argues.
“Love doesn’t always make sense, Bitty my sweet,” Shitty says.
Eric snorts and snuggles into his boyfriend, who hands over a crisp fifty just as Dex barks out "Fine!"
🚢🚢🚢
A few weeks later, Bitty's walking to class when he sees Dex and Nursey across the quad arguing. Again. He stops next to a tree, trying to decide if he should head in that direction to see if he can de-escalate things when they start to head in his direction. He darts behind the tree so they don’t see him. Peeking around, he's shocked to discover this argument isn’t too serious, after all. They’re almost smiling, even.
Bitty is intrigued. They’ve stopped a few feet away, so deep in their conversation that they don’t notice their teammate eavesdropping.
“Durse? Dude, no,” he hears Dex say.
“Okay, okay, chill, man,” Nursey replies. “How about Nex? Dill?”
Dex snorts. “Come on, we’re going to be late for our lab,” and Bitty swings around to the other side of the tree to stay out of sight, but not before he sees Dex hook his hand around Nursey’s bicep to drag him in the direction of the science building.
Bitty tries to parse what he just heard. It sounded like they were discussing what their ship name would be. Maybe his hopes of his two frogs falling in love, enemies-to-lovers style will come to fruition after all. Or maybe he’s been reading too much fanfic and the tropes are just getting to him.
It’s true, he's been reading fanfic, ever since that night at the Haus when Ransom and Holster talked about it. Not about himself and Jack, that’s too creepy. But once he discovered Yuri on Ice fic he couldn't stop.
Consequently, Bitty has become just a little obsessed with figuring out everyone else’s ship names. He secretly loves that he and Jack have one.
🚢🚢🚢
It’s a cold winter day. Eric's in the kitchen rolling out a pie crust and talking to Jack on Skype when the front door slams and two sets of heavy footsteps head towards the living room. Ransom and Holster must have just come back from class. The stress of senior year has been getting to both of them, especially Ransom. Bitty just hoped he wasn’t about to slip into coral reef mode.
The rumble of a loud conversation echoed through the Haus, he could just about pick out a few names in the noise…
“Lord, those boys have no idea how loud they really are,” he tells Jack.
“I can almost hear their conversation from here,” Jack replies.
Bitty puts down the rolling pin and walks over to the kitchen doorway, listening. I'm becoming quite the snoop, he thinks to himself. Well, they should know he’s there, so it’s not like they can expect to have a private conversation.
“Bits?” Jack calls from the laptop screen.
“Just a second, honey, I just want to make sure everything is okay. It sounds kind of heated.”
Jack makes a skeptical sound. Bitty whirls around and points at the camera. “Don’t you start, mister. Now shh.”
“...part of your name and part of my name…”
Bitty’s eyes widen and he scampers back over to the computer. “I think they’re trying to figure out their ship name!”
Jack squints at the camera, confused. “Their what?”
“You know, like we’re Zimbits?”
“Right, right,” Jack chuckles.
They hang up, but not before Bitty blows a kiss to his boyfriend through the camera.
He puts the pie in the oven, closing Betsy 2.0's door more loudly than he normally would, wanting Ransom and Holster to know he’s home before he walks out of the kitchen. He mentally apologizes to her for the assault.
Ransom and Holster are sitting on either end of the disgusting green sofa when Bitty ambles, oh-so-casually, into the room. He plops himself down on the beanbag, but he might as well have been stark naked and juggling peaches for all of the attention they were paying to him.
“Remember when we used to read all that Jack/Kent fanfic? Do you remember what the ship name was?” Holster asked. He notices Bitty sitting there and grimaces. “Uh, sorry Bitty.”
Eric rolls his eyes. “Don’t stop on account of me, this is fascinating.” He makes it sound sarcastic, but he’s not actually lying.
Ransom pipes up. “I remember. It was Pimms.”
Holster and Bitty both grimace. Ransom shrugs. “I didn’t make it up.”
“That’s a terrible ship name. No wonder they never got together.” Holsom comments.
Bitty bites his tongue. As if that was their biggest issue, he thinks.
Bitty hums noncommittally. "Yeah, you're probably right." He eyes the pair on the couch speculatively. “So what about you two?”
“Well, that’s what we were just talking about. But we can’t decide between “Ranster” and “Justam.”
Bitty wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, those aren’t great.”
🚢🚢🚢
Bitty is not ready to say goodbye to Lardo. He’s already had to deal with Jack and Shitty graduating, and now he’s going to lose Lardo and Ransom and Holster? He hates saying goodbye. But he's going to be one of the seniors on the team next year, so helping her find a replacement is the least he can do.
The frogs have been distributing fliers (Bitty makes a mental note to figure out what the three of them would be called — Chowder is an interesting addition to the Dex/Nursey dynamic) and Bitty agreed to be on the interview panel with Lardo and Dex if they ever get any promising candidates. (Lardex? No.)
Plenty of weirdos, that’s for sure, but the answer seems pretty clear when Denice Ford sits down and hollers "Call! Is at 4:30! Sharp!" at the top of her lungs. As Bitty, Lardo, and Dex (Blardex) watch, Tango trots up to the window, coming from what might have been across the entire Samwell campus.
“Yes ma’am,” he says to Denise, deferentially.
Lardo gives her the standard “I've gotta talk to the coaches first” spiel but as soon as Tango’s sweet little face had appeared at the window, Bitty knew that Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot was gonna be a thing.
WTF, indeed.
🚢🚢🚢
Bitty adores Tater. Strictly in a platonic way. Well, mostly strictly. He’s got eyes, after all. It doesn’t hurt that he is very vocal in his appreciation of Bitty’s baking and jam-making. But Bitty definitely doesn’t tell Jack that after he met Tater in person at family skate, he immediately came up with Baked Potato for the two of them.
“Oh yes, I like that, that is funny!” Tater is confused at first by the concept but quickly warms up to it. Especially when Bitty shares his idea. “Yes, I get it, I get it! Baked because you bake and Potato because I am Tater!” he says proudly. Bitty laughs and gives him a side-hug as Tater finishes off a piece of pie.
Shitty comes to visit and Bitty relays the name to him and Lardo as they sit in the Reading Room one night shortly before graduation. Lardo is tucked up under Shitty’s right arm, but when he hears Bitty’s proposal, she immediately mutters, "here we go," correctly predicting he'd take great exception to it. Waving his joint perilously close to Bitty’s face, Shitty argues, “brah, if you can’t see that Tater and I would be Baked Potato, I don’t even know what to tell you.”
Upon reflection, Eric agrees. So he brainstorms a new name for Tater and himself as he sips his lukewarm beer.
Tatertits? Bitater? Tateric? He isn’t sure, and probably for the health of his relationship, he shouldn’t dwell on it too much.
🚢🚢🚢
Graduation day is warm and sunny. As he gets dressed for the ceremony, Bitty thinks I have never been happier that Moomaw insists on me having a full set of monogrammed handkerchiefs. Last year’s graduation was tough, but the memory of what happened after kind of helped him forget the devastation he felt watching Jack — his friend, his crush, the boy he couldn’t help but love — walking across the stage, as tears streamed down his face, with nothing to wipe them off except the sleeve of his jacket. He smiles to himself as he considers where they’ve ended up. As Zimbits.
He folds the starched handkerchief and carefully tucks it into the pocket of his suit jacket, his thumb rubbing over the EBR stitching. He gently shuts his bedroom door and walks downstairs. He sees Ransom and Holster standing behind the green sofa of doom, their heads so close that their foreheads are nearly touching. They are gripping each others’ hands and Bitty could go into the kitchen and throw all of his pots and pans to the floor and he doesn’t think they’d even blink.
Bitty does go into the kitchen, but not to create a ruckus. He needs to save his handkerchief for the ceremony, so he tears a paper towel off the roll and blots the tears that have welled up at the emotional display he witnessed between Ransom and Holster. It was so sweet, so pure, so…wholesome.
Bitty snorts through his tears. Holsom. Perfect.
As it turns out, he barely even pulls the hankie out of his pocket. There aren’t too many tears at the graduation ceremony, but enough clapping and screaming for his friends that he’s hoarse. They have a lot to look forward to, after all. The Falcs are in the playoffs, and Jack got them all tickets. He’s really excited about seeing his boyfriend again.
🚢🚢🚢
After the final game, after the euphoria, after the kiss, after champagne is spilled and tub juice is brewed, as the night wears on and things get sillier, talk turns, as it often does these days, to the most outlandish pairings that the group can imagine.
“Chowder and Cait!” Holster yells.
Ransom immediately replies, “Charmer!” and Holster high fives him.
"Oh my god, that's so cool!" Chowder shouts as Snowy gives him a noogie.
Lardo waves her arms excitedly and says “I got a good one — Bitty and Ransom!” She shakes her head. “No listen, no listen, ReefCake!”
The room erupts in a chorus of “oooh”s, impressed by her creativity. Ransom reaches over to where Bitty is holding out his fist and bumps it.
“I have one,” Tater bellows.
He’s sitting at the end of the couch, his braced leg propped up on the ottoman. The television is on but muted and he’s watching the TV with one eye closed, swaying where he sits. He sits up straight and waves his hand at the screen where ESPN is talking about Kent Parson. His drunken gaze goes slightly dreamy, or at least that’s what Bitty imagines.
“Mmm, Kent Parson,” he slurs, “pretty man, pretty, pretty man.”
Bitty looks at Jack, who is sitting between them, and raises his eyebrows. Contrary to what he might have assumed, Jack does not look the least bit upset by this, but instead extremely amused. He whispers in Bitty’s ear, “Patater.”
Bitty pulls back and squints at his boyfriend. After a moment he dissolves into giggles. “You’re so right, honey.” He leans over Jack and waves his hand in front of Tater’s face, who is still staring dreamily at the screen, where Kent is now talking into the camera.
“Tates,” Bitty shouts. Tater turns his head towards Bitty but doesn’t break eye contact with the Kent on the screen. He’s…is he blushing? Bitty thinks he’s blushing.
“Yes, little baker?”
“Patater,” he announces.
Tater nods, still staring at his crush on the television. “Yes. Patater.”
Bitty looks at Jack again and snorts. They fall into each other and giggle uncontrollably.
The segment on ESPN is over, and Tater is unsteadily pouring vodka from a bottle on the table next to him into a shot glass and knocking it back. Over and over again. “Patater,” he mumbles, a huge grin on his face as he stares off into the distance, dreamily. “Patater.”
🚢🚢🚢
Senior year. It’s here. It’s bittersweet, Bitty thinks, and then offhandedly wonders who he needs to hook up with to make that their ship name. He shakes his head and continues to wipe down the counters of the kitchen, giving Betsy 2.0 a pat. He missed his girl over the summer, even though it was a magical few months, living with Jack in Providence. Even if Tater was around for most of it. At least when he was sober he wasn’t pining over Kent.
The front door slams and a moment later, Dex pokes his head into the kitchen. “Hey Bitty.”
Bitty puts down the cloth and walks over to Dex, somehow enfolding the much taller man into a hug.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I meant Cap’n.”
Bitty pulls out of the hug and swats him on the arm. “Don’t you even start, mister.” Bitty is so happy to have his frogs back, to be back in the Haus, to get this year started. “Where’s Nursey?”
Dex’s face pinkens, which Bitty finds very interesting. He mumbles something that Bitty can’t quite make out.
“Sorry, what was that?” he asks.
“Getting his stuff out of my truck,” he mumbles.
Bitty crosses his arms and looks Dex up and down. Dex seems to shrink into himself and he turns even redder. “Out of your truck,” Bitty repeats.
“Yeah, um, we drove up together.”
“You drove up together?” Bitty narrows his eyes. “Last I checked, Maine was north of Samwell.”
Dex turns indignant, which Bitty finds absolutely adorable. “Yeah, so we spent some time together in New York before school started, okay?” He is now absolutely neon red at this point. Bitty decides to stop tormenting him, but then Nursey walks in and almost trips into Dex when he notices Bitty standing in front of him.
“Oh hey, Bitty. Chill.”
Bitty bites back a smile. What is going on here? “Hey Nursey. Did you have a good summer?” Bitty tries to make it very clear from his tone of voice that he knows exactly what is going on here.
“Chill, yeah, super chill. Very chill. Chill chill chill.” Derek is most decidedly not chill, Bitty notes. He gives him a quick hug and pats the boys on their backs and sends them out of the kitchen. He pretends not to notice Derek putting his hand on the small of Dex’s back as they head upstairs, suitcase in the other hand.
Nursey, Dex. NurseyDex. It’s just that simple.
🚢🚢🚢
In spite of how fine Jack was with Tater crushing hard on Kent, he still had a hard time when the Aces came to town and they had to face each other on the ice. Bitty has employed a lot of strategies to help him deal with this particular stress. Sometimes it’s just cuddling and letting Jack talk about their days in the Q, sometimes it’s a massage or really drawn out sex to get Jack out of his head, and sometimes it’s laughter. And that’s what Jack needs on this particular night. To laugh.
“Okay, let’s see. Kent and Shitty.” Tonight they are making up the most ridiculous pairings imaginable and Bitty is letting Jack come up with the combinations while he comes up with the ship names.
“Oh that’s easy, Kitty,” Bitty says decisively.
“Then what would it be with you?” Jack wonders.
“Kittle?”
Jack nods. “I accept that,” he says with mock-seriousness. “But what if it was you and Shitty with Kent?”
“Lord, I don’t think I could handle that much talking,” Bitty replies.
“That’s fair,” Jack concedes. “Okay. Kent and Dex.”
“Dent.”
“Kent and Nursey.”
“Kerek.”
“Kent and Connor.”
“Whiskent.”
Jack seems to run out of ideas, but then he looks at Bitty and his eyes darken. Bitty leans in. “Kent and you…and me.”
Bitty’s heart pounds and he probably answers too quickly. He hopes Jack doesn’t figure out how much he’s thought about it already. “PBJ, of course.”
But Jack isn’t upset, on the contrary. Jack seems really into the thought of it, and, well, that’s the last talking they do for the rest of the night.
Sometimes it turns out he needs laughter and sex.
🚢🚢🚢
Up until tonight, Bitty thought he had considered every permutation of people on the Samwell campus and the Falcs possible. Turns out he’s wrong. Very wrong. Because he’s never considered the lax bros. (He didn’t mean for fuuuuck the lax bros to be taken literally.)
He isn’t sure what to think. The lax bros! He obviously doesn’t care that Whiskey isn’t straight. He just wishes he’d caught him making out with almost anyone else on campus. Anyone but a lacrosse player! Has Whiskey no pride at all?
Jack’s on the west coast playing the Sharks (Chowder hasn’t shut up about it all day) but he needs to talk about this with someone who isn’t on the team, so he calls Shitty.
Shitty answers the phone after barely a ring. “Bitty, my magnificent friend, baker to the gods, the light of my life, how are you?”
Bitty doesn’t have time to formulate a response to Shitty’s exuberance before he hears, “Shitty, calm the fuck down.”
“Lards!” Bitty shouts at his phone. He missed her so much.
“Hey buddy, how’s it going?” she asks.
Bitty forgets why he even called. He’s just so happy to hear the familiar voices of his friends. He has to fight back tears for a second, but then he remembers “Shardo” and he lets out a giggle.
“Sounds like it’s going okay,” Lardo observes.
“It’s going okay,” Bitty says, “but I tell you what, having all of Shardo answer my call sure turned my day around.”
“Awwww,” Shitty and Lardo croon in response.
“So what’s up, for real?” Lardo asks.
“It’s Whiskey.”
Shitty never played with Whiskey, who came to Samwell the year after he graduated, but he’s heard plenty about Bitty’s struggles with captaining him. He’s immediately indignant on Bitty’s behalf. “Do I need to come have a talk with him about homophobia or something? Does he need to be straightened out? Because I swear, Bitty, we will not have any of that bullshit on that team, I will make damn sure of it.”
Bitty laughs weakly. “That’s not it. I can’t be too specific, but let’s just say I saw him with someone at a party and I know he has a girlfriend and it threw me for a loop, and I want to be supportive, but he won’t talk to me, and I’m just having a real hard time being his captain.”
“Saw him with someone?” Lardo asks. “Like, with someone?”
Bitty sighs. “Yeah.”
“Bitty,” she sing-songs. “Are you more upset that you saw him with someone, or that you can’t figure out what their name would be?”
Bitty gasps dramatically. “Larissa Duan, how could you ever think such a thing? I would never…” he trails off. “Okay, fine, it’s the second one. I just can’t figure it out for the life of me!” he whines.
Shitty and Lardo try to give him some real advice about the captaining side of things, but Bitty isn’t really listening.
Whad? Chiskey? Channor? They’re all just too terrible to contemplate.
But when Kent Parson shows up at the Haus a few months later, he remembers Whiskent and decides before Kent goes back to Vegas, he’s going to introduce them. Because that’s a damn good ship name. He mentally apologizes to Tater.
🚢🚢🚢
Graduation day has come and nearly gone, and John Johnson gazes around the room at faces both familiar and not. Everyone has dozed off around the living room, the long day (and celebratory booze) has caught up with them. He didn’t have to come back to watch a few of his frogs graduate, but he’d been looking forward to seeing how this seemingly disparate group of people was going to gel, so it was worth the trip.
Holster is sitting next to Shitty, Bitty on his other side tucked under Jack’s arm. Lardo is leaning against him with her feet in Chowder’s lap. Nursey was on the floor, leaning back against the arm of the sofa, and ransom was stretched out with his head resting on his thigh. Whiskey sat in the recliner next to them, wearing his Aces jersey, Ford balanced on the arm of the chair. Dex was in the beanbag next to them, and on the table next to him was a tiny figurine of Tater. Johnson nods and walks out the front door, shutting it quietly behind him.
Holshibizzachowtorentdonurransexter slumbers on.