Work Text:
Jack prided himself on being self-aware. After everything that had happened in his life, he had to be. Sure, he’d never really learnt how to talk to others about those feelings, but he was aware of them.
Because of that, he’d known since the first semester of his senior year that he had decidedly non-platonic feelings towards Eric Bittle. At the time, he’d thought it would just go away, but four years later he wasn’t over it.
In a way, he was glad he’d never tried to initiate anything while they’d been at school. Back then, he hadn’t been ready to come out of the closet, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask Eric to go back into it just to be with him.
Things had changed since they’d been in school.
Jack felt the familiar anxiety rise up through his body as he got out of his truck and walked into the Falconer's PR Team’s office. He couldn't help but remember the first time he’d met with them, how he'd told them that he was bisexual and that someday he may have a boyfriend and want to come out.
As with a lot of things, Jack had been wrong that day; he was still very single but now felt that it was time to be honest. Besides, last year an openly gay Canadian rookie had entered the league so he wouldn't be the first LGBQ hockey player. That had been one of the biggest causes of anxiety surrounding his thoughts of coming out.
He sat down in front of the PR team, feeling like he was being persecuted on one of those daytime courtroom shows - the kind that Shitty hated because they were so inaccurate. In the back of his mind, he could almost hear Shitty yelling at the TV that this would never happen because this or that person had compromised evidence, was personally involved in the case, or had committed some other legal blunder.
“You wanted to discuss something?” Georgia asked, pulling Jack out of his own head. He trusted and felt comfortable with her, more than with the other members of the team, so he always requested that she was present when he had to deal with PR.
“Yeah,” he said solemnly, looking down and folding his hand together . He took a deep breath, “I want to come out.”
A man who's name Jack couldn't remember pulled out a small stack of paper. “We've had a statement ready since you told us, with small edits made since then, of course.” His smile screamed to anyone watching that he was involved with ‘public relations’ - just the right amount of fake empathy and detachedness.
The woman next to him (Jack was fairly sure that he’d never learned her name) spoke up, choosing her words carefully. “It would be easier if you - if you had someone, before you come out. Partially for support, but also to show the public that this isn't just a whim.”
Jack paused, mouth open in mild shock. He closed his mouth and considered the statement. She was right - the whole process would be easier if he had support. But there was only one person in his life that he could think of that would fit - only one person that would be able to give him the support necessary if the media got too hard to deal with, and at the same time be able to portray a convincing fake boyfriend for anyone that thought he was lying.
Jack was also certain that the woman hadn’t meant for him to get a fake boyfriend at all, but it was the only thing that he had access to. He didn’t want to wait any longer to get a real boyfriend before coming out. “Okay - I... I think I have someone.”
She grinned and it was an echo of the man’s polite but impersonal grin. “Great! Just give us their name and we'll put it in the statement.”
He hesitated once again before replying. “Eric Bittle.”
As he walked out of the building, Jack hoped that he wouldn't regret this, but he knew himself too well to believe that.
“You did WHAT?” Eric's voice came loudly down the phone line, so much so that Jack had to pull his cell away from his ear. He could feel his face pull into a pinched expression and saw a few people turning to look at him oddly in the street, but he didn’t pay them much mind.
“I know - I know! I'm sorry! I panicked!”
Eric sighed and from a state away, Jack could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose the way that he did when he was exasperated and consequently getting flour all over his face. “I'm gonna call my publicist before your guys call her. She's going to kill me over this.”
“I'm sorry for dragging you into this,” Jack murmured.
“Oh, honey, don't be.” Jack could hear him setting down cooking utensils and felt bad all over again for interrupting him in the middle of making a recipe - probably a new one for his show. “I'm proud of you, okay? I know how hard it's been, and I get it. I'll be the best fake boyfriend anyone's had, ever.”
Jack smiled even though his chest felt like it was going to implode. It felt like a weight off his shoulders. “Thank you.”
“You know, most people just ask out their crush directly,” Georgia said conversationally as soon as Jack picked up the phone.
He put his head in his hands. “Georgia.”
“I’m just saying, Jack. Just saying.” She paused. “That’s not why I called. Obviously. As much as I find joy in chirping you, I did call for a real reason.”
“Then get on with it, please, so I can get to being swallowed by my floor.”
He could almost sense her shaking her head at him. “Please don’t do that; a press release for sexuality is a lot easier than one for killer carpet - though that would be a new thing for me to have to write. And please stop derailing me. I called to tell you that I spoke with Mr. Bittle’s publicist and she says that it’s all good and he will be coming up to stay with you in a week so that he can be part of the press release, as he’s also a public figure.”
Jack nodded along as she spoke before remembering that she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I know. You’ll be glad to know he shouted at me when I told him.”
She let out a pleased hum. “Good. I hope you realize what will happen if this thing goes balls up, Jack. There’s only so much I can prepare for - there’s still time to say that you’re not ready.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Georgia.” Jack hung up and tossed his cellphone on the plain IKEA coffee table before hanging his head in his hands again.
He really had fucked up.
Part of the deal that they had struck with Molly (the publicist assigned specifically to Eric by the Food Network, because they feared that his comfort with social media would lead inevitably to disaster - which it hadn’t yet, because Eric had spent three years on a hockey team with a semi-famous person and nothing too bad had happened) was that before the Falconer’s PR team released ‘Jack’s’ official statement, Eric would get to say on twitter or his ‘behind the scenes’ vlog channel that he had a boyfriend, but that he wouldn’t say who until just after the statement written for Jack was released.
Like any normal and totally platonic friend, Jack had Eric’s twitter notifications turned on for his phone. He didn’t have anyone else’s notifications turned on, but that was besides the point - he didn’t exactly know many people who used twitter much, anyway.
The point was that on the Wednesday before Eric was supposed to fly over to Providence to be part of the ‘week of PR’ as it had been unceremoniously and unofficially dubbed, Jack’s phone beeped while in the changeroom after practise. He checked it quickly while he pulled off his shin guards.
It wasn’t anything much, just a simple ‘going to spend the week with the bf’ followed by a blush-face emoji. Jack scrolled down a little and all he could see where replies with lots of exclamation points and people asking who, exactly, he was going to see.
He felt his chest constrict again, not for the first time that week, and locked his phone before setting it in the top of his glorified cubby. Jack took his phone out again as he walked out of the change room and into the afternoon sun. He paused just outside the door so he could type out a quick text to Eric.
‘When does your plane land? I’ll come pick you up.’
The reply came quickly: ‘Don’t worry; I’ll get a rental car. See you soon!’
Jack sighed. ‘You’re making it hard to be a supportive boyfriend, Bittle.’
He could imagine Eric’s laugh as he read the text - or at least his smile. ‘Fine. I’ll be there by 4.’
Jack grinned to no one in particular.
Jack was at the airport by three thirty. Shitty had told him a long time ago that there was no such thing as ‘fashionably early’ but Jack didn’t mind. He’d rather be early than miss something all together.
As much as Jack was early, however, Eric’s plane was late. Jack’s watch was creeping up on twenty to five by the time his phone buzzed again with a quick ‘have landed’ text.
A mix of anxiety and excitement thrummed through his veins as he kept his eyes on the door that he knew Eric would be walking out of soon.
His focus was total until he felt a tug on his sleeve. Jack looked down into the face of a boy no older than seven who was carrying a Falconer’s backpack. Within seconds, Jack flipped on his ‘public figure’ mode and smiled at him.
“Excuse me, sir,” the boy started, “are you Jack Zimmermann?”
Jack glanced up at the boy’s mother who looked like she was ready with an apology on her lips. “Yeah, that’s me. What’s your name?”
The boy grinned wide, showing off two missing teeth. “Marty,” he said happily. “Can I take a picture with you, Mr. Zimmermann?”
“If you ask your mom really nicely, then yes.”
Marty turned to his mother, already with his childhood puppy-dog eyes on. “Please, mommy?”
She looked at Jack, trying to make it clear without saying anything that if he didn’t want to then they would walk away. He nodded to her, so she smiled at her son. “Alright, Martin.” She took out her phone, and Jack crouched down so that he was at the boy’s level.
As he stood back up, a familiar voice startled him. “Hey, Jack.”
He turned around and met Eric’s eyes with a grin. “Bittle, hello. Glad you made it. I was just saying hi to a little fan over here.”
Eric smiled his 40-Watt smile at the boy. “Hey there, thanks for keepin’ Jack company for me while he waited.”
Martin nodded mutely, then turned to his mother. “Isn’t that the man you watch on TV a lot?” he asked in a child’s whisper.
She blanched. “Thank you for entertaining him, Mr. Zimmermann; but we have to go now. Come on, Martin.” She grabbed her son’s hand and quickly walked away.
When Jack turned back to Eric, they were both clearly holding back a laugh.
“It’s good to see you,” Eric said, reaching forwards hesitantly as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to go for a hug or not.
Jack quickly pulled him into his arms. “Good to see you, too.”
They stood like that for a moment longer and then Eric pulled away. “Let’s go to baggage claim, yeah?”
“You can take the bed,” Jack said as they walked into his apartment. “I’ll take the pull out couch. I don’t have a guest room, sorry.”
Eric was shaking his head before Jack finished speaking. “No, no, I can’t kick you out of your own bed, Jack!”
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The pull out couch isn’t very comfortable, Eric, but I’ve slept on worse, so it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“We’ll share,” Eric said, setting his jaw in a way that Jack was all too familiar with. Once Eric Bittle made up his mind, nothing short of the apocalypse would stop him.
“We’ll talk about this after dinner. Do you want to eat in? Or we can go to a restaurant.”
Eric set down his luggage at the side of the couch and sat down. “There’s a restaurant that Molly wants me to check out and review, but we should probably stay in until after your statement’s out.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. Chinese or Thai?”
“I would kill for an egg roll right now.”
Jack was usually up early, but that didn’t mean that he appreciated being woken up by the shrill noise of his ring tone echoing through his apartment far too early.
He slapped a hand onto his bed side table and inched it along until it found the phone. Jack hit the speakerphone button and laid the phone down on the table.
“‘Allo?” he grumbled.
“You’re an idiot,” Georgia said.
Jack wasn’t going to dispute that. “What did I do?”
“You know better than the talk to gossip writers, Jack. I’m not mad - just disappointed.”
Now Jack was confused. He couldn’t remember speaking to a gossip writer in his entire career, let alone since the last time he spoke with Georgia. He told her as much as he propped himself up on an elbow.
“There’s a picture of you with a kid, and in the back you can clearly see Eric Bittle walking towards you. Could be easily written off, but the writer recognized both of you and Eric had tweeted that he was going to see his boyfriend not long before being seen with you.”
Her little speech hadn’t helped clear anything up. “I’m coming out tomorrow anyway, what will speculation hurt?”
“You’re coming out today. It’s been decided; the PR team is sending your release out as we speak.”
Jack groaned and buried his head in the pillow. “Thanks for the warning, I guess. I’ll see you at practise in -” he checked the alarm clock “-two hours.”
Georgia sighed. “Good luck, Jack.” He hoped that he wouldn’t need it.
Jack hung up the phone just as he heard an oddly melodic beeping noise from inside his room. He turned over and noticed Eric curled up and sleeping soundly, and then on the other bedside table there was a smartphone that he knew belonged to Eric, it’s screen lit up cheerily displaying several notifications.
He poked Eric’s side. “Your phone needs you.”
Eric blinked awake slowly. “Wha’?” Jack pointed at the phone and repeated his statement and Eric seemed to understand, because he rolled over and grabbed his phone, thumbing through the notifications quickly. “Thought your statement was supposed to released tomorrow,” he mumbled. “Hope your people told Molly before they did this.”
Jack shrugged. “Probably.” Suddenly, he was being pulled back down to the bed into an awkward side-hug and staring into Eric’s phone’s camera. More surprising than the cuddle was that Eric pressed his lips to Jack’s cheek just before taking the picture.
He pulled back the phone and let Jack go before, once again, doing things on it that Jack couldn’t comprehend. “This is a good instagram shot,” he murmured. “And posted!” Eric turned the phone screen towards Jack. It displayed the picture that Eric had just taken along with the caption ‘guess the secrets out!’ followed by another blushing emoji.
“You really like that emoji, don’t you?” Jack asked.
He shrugged. “It’s appropriate.”
Jack couldn’t argue with that.
“Should I come with you to practise?” Eric asked as Jack was getting ready.
“If you want to? Practise isn’t really fun to watch but I won’t stop you. I know some of the guys’ wives and girlfriends love your show.”
Eric nodded resolutely. “Then I’ll come.”
Jack grabbed his bag. “Alright. We can get something to eat after, make it worth your while.”
“Can we get baking supplies at the grocery store before we come back here?” he asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of possibly being able to bake.
Jack nudged Eric with his shoulder and grinned down at him. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring everything with you, eh?”
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that, Zimmermann.”
Jack expected more awkwardness in the change room before practise than there was. Really, he should have expected that instead, because the statement hadn’t contained any new information for them. A few of his teammates clapped him on the shoulder as they passed him and others told him that they were proud of him.
It was probably the best practise that Jack had had in a long time. And it wasn’t because Eric was in the stands wearing his Falconer’s windbreaker. Absolutely not.
A group of people from the team decided to go out for lunch, and they invited Jack ‘and his boyfriend’.
Unlike practise, lunch was awkward, if only because all of the hockey players thought that there was no way they’d be able to socialize with a small, southern baker. It didn’t occur to them that Jack was also a hockey player and managed to date the man in question. But once they found out that Eric used to play hockey, and with Jack no less, conversation flowed more freely. A few of them even felt comfortable enough by the end of the meal to ask Eric to sign things for their wives or girlfriends.
Jack threw an arm around Eric’s shoulders because he was allowed to, and even pressed a kiss to the side of his head as he blushed and sputtered when he realized that the players he knew from TV and Jack’s stories knew him as well.
When it was time to go, Jack didn’t move his arm far. He linked his fingers with Eric’s, swinging their arms comfortably between them as they walked out of the restaurant.
“That was nice of them.” Eric smiled.
“I’m surprised they didn’t try and interrogate you to defend my honour. It happened to a few of their girlfriends, but I guess this is different.” Jack rubbed his thumb in a small circle on the back of Eric’s hand.
He held the passenger door open for Eric, and heard one of his teammates from a few cars down yell to tell him that he was whipped. Jack just told him to shut up before getting in the other side of the car and pulling out of the lot.
“Butter?” he asked.
Eric nodded. “Among other things. I have a list up here.” He tapped his temple.
“Of course you do.”
Eric spoke with his hands. This was not new information to anyone that knew him, and usually no one did anything about it. But after his third time almost knocking something off a shelf, Jack grabbed one of his hands and laced their fingers together - because he could, and because they were supposed to be dating. Holding hands was something that Jack, as socially awkward as he could be, knew that couples did in public.
He didn’t let go, even when it would have made sense to. He didn’t plan to unless Eric said anything or let go first.
Jack let himself be dragged around the store, carrying the small basket on one arm, knowing that he was the picture of the perfect boyfriend. He finally let got of Eric’s hand when they got back to his car, but he grabbed it again when they walked into his apartment building.
As soon as his door was shut behind them, Eric dropped his hand like it was on fire.
“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he said quickly, looking anywhere but at Jack.
He disappeared into the kitchen before Jack could respond.
Jack woke up to the smell of breakfast being made and sun landing on his face and shoulders. For just a moment, he let himself burrow deeper into the covers, but when his hand reached out and touched the cold side of the bed, and he was jolted back to reality.
This was not a domestic scene in a long-term relationship, this was a friend doing a favour for a friend and liking to bake more than most people.
Jack hauled himself out of bed, pulling on socks and a shirt before shuffling into the kitchen. Eric was wearing fuzzy socks, boxers, and a Samwell hoodie, singing quietly to himself as he attended a pan with bacon sizzling in it.
“Morning!” he greeted cheerfully when he noticed Jack standing in the doorway.
“This seems like a lot,” Jack grumbled, brushing past Eric to make himself a cup of coffee.
Eric rolled his eyes. “Figured you’d need to calories before a game. Now stop complainin’ and grab some pancakes.”
Jack laughed and pulled a few onto his plate, resisting the childhood urge to drown them in maple syrup. He sat at the counter and started to dig in. Eric sat down next to him before he was done the first pancake and knocked their shoulders together.
He had known that coming out just before a game would make the reporters afterwards act like sharks circling injured prey. There were exactly two questions about the game before they laid into his personal life.
“You’ve always been very private, why suddenly open up about your relationship?”
“I just want to go out with my boyfriend without people theorizing. Now you all know.”
“Eric Bittle is known for his social media presence - can we expect that of you now?”
“Probably not - I’m not a fan of it.” He shrugged. “It makes Eric happy, though.”
“Any big plans now that you two have gone public?”
Jack coughed awkwardly. “Uh - no, no plans really just yet.” He pulled on his jacket. “I’ve got to go now, sorry.” Jack shouldered his way out of the room and quickly got to the parking lot, hoping in his car and heading home.
The first thing that Jack noticed when he woke up was that his arm was around Eric’s waist and Eric sitting up with his back against the headboard, phone in his hands. He quickly removed his arm and propped himself up with an elbow.
“What’s happening on Twitter?”
Eric didn’t look up from his phone. “Facebook, right now. Made a post last night congratulating you on a good game. All the comments are about how you’re ‘such a sweet boyfriend’. Also about your butt.”
“At least your fans like me.”
Eric made a noncommittal noise. “The women on my Facebook page like you. The teenagers on Twitter, however, keep telling me that I’m not being treated right. I’m trying to assure them that you’re perfectly lovely. Mind if I take a post this picture to Instagram?” He turned the phone towards Jack and showed him a picture of Jack cuddled against Eric’s legs in the same position he’d woken up in. “Sorry for taking a picture while you were asleep but it was honestly too precious.”
Jack laughed. “It’s fine - go ahead and post it. I need to save my reputation as ‘not a terrible boyfriend’.”
“I’ll make sure to keep the record straight. Do you have practise today?”
“In the afternoon. We can go to that restaurant Molly wants you to review after?”
Eric nodded, tapped a few more things on his phone, and then hopped out of bed. “That sounds good to me. But for now - breakfast?”
Jack sat up and grinned. “That sounds good right about now.”
They spent the morning watching movies on Netflix that Eric seemed offended Jack didn’t recognize.
“Do you want to come to my practice again?”
“No - there’s this peach pie recipe I found on Pinterest that I’ve been meaning to try,” Eric said. “I’ll probably film myself making it for the ‘behind the scenes’ vlog. That’ll be easier to do if you’re not here chirping me the whole time.”
Jack hummed in the back of his throat. “Sounds like something I would do, yes.”
“You used to chirp me all the time while I was vlogging back at school - ‘sounds like something I would do’ you have done it!” Eric was trying for a stern tone but he was laughing and it fell flat.
“Well, I have practice. Have fun with your ‘Pinner recipe’ or whatever it’s called.” Jack stood up and grabbed his hockey bag from where he’d put it by the door.
“It’s Pinterest!” Eric called as Jack walked out the door.
Jack only had time to put his hockey stuff out to try and air it a little before Eric was in his space and chattering about the restaurant that Molly wanted him to review.
“I checked it out on Google maps while you were at practice,” he was saying. “It’s not far from your apartment.”
Jack nodded. “It it’s close then we should walk. Sure you’re gonna be warm enough in your thin jacket?”
Eric rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know I wore that jacket all through Winter last year.”
“Yeah but there’s no wind in New York City.”
“I’ll be fine, Jack. Trust me.”
The restaurant was high-class, but Jack was familiar with that. He remembered a time, however, when Eric wasn’t. The memory of Eric in a suit shortly after his graduation and looking around uncomfortably at the restaurant that Jack’s father had recommended was one that always made him smile.
Eric pressed his foot into Jack’s shin. “What’re you grinin’ about, there, Jack? Want to enlighten the class?”
Jack shook his head. “It’s nothing, I just - I missed you.”
“You, too, Jack.” Eric grinned back at him and then looked down at the wine menu. “Is there anything here that appeals to you?”
“I’m not a ‘wine person’. Do they have beer here?”
Eric sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “The things that I put up with, geeze. No, you’re not allowed to order beer here. We’ll order and then ask the server what they think the best wine pairing is.”
It had been a good idea to walk to the restaurant. Neither of them were lightweights, and normally wine wouldn’t have been a problem for either of them, but the server recognized Eric and gave them free rum and refills - whether it was in an attempt to flirt with Eric or as congratulations for going public with Jack, neither of them could say.
Jack would deny that he was drunk, citing his hockey metabolism and size, but Eric was a different story. Being nearly half Jack’s size, to start with, he was going to be more susceptible than Jack was.
Eric leaned heavily against Jack’s side as they walked back to Jack’s apartment.
“That was nice,” he said, looping his arm around Jack’s waist in an attempt to keep himself upright.
Jack hummed in agreement. “Great review, Bittle; I’m sure your readers will appreciate.”
Eric looked up and scowled. “I’ll say - I dunno, usually I take notes during the meal.”
“Are you saying that I distracted you?” He meant it as a chirp but Eric didn’t laugh.
“You always distract me,” he said earnestly. “You and your - your weird, floppy hair.”
Jack ran a hand self-consciously through his hair, pushing it back over his head. “My hair.”
Eric nodded. “Mmhmm. Your hair.”
“Okay then. I’ll tell my hair to be less distracting in the future,” he laughed.
“Thank you.”
Eric walked into the living room scrubbing at his face tiredly. “Coffee?”
“I have a Keurig, you have to fend for yourself,” Jack informed him, not getting up from the couch. He pretended that he was reading the book in his lap, but his eyes trailed after Eric as he disappeared into the other room. “I was thinking that I could show you around Providence today? Since it’s my day off?” Jack asked, trying to sound casual but instead just falling flat.
Eric walked back into the living room holding a cup of coffee between his hands. “That would be fun,” he murmured before taking a sip and sighing deeply. “That’s exactly what I needed.”
“There’s some tourist destinations that I’ve never been to around here,” Jack continued, “and I figured now is as good a time as any. If you want to, that is.”
“That would be lovely,” Eric said, depositing himself in the place next to Jack on the couch. “There’s nothing better that I could think to do with today than touristy things.”
Eric bought overpriced coffee in the museum Starbucks on their way in.
“That’s your second cup this morning,” Jack remarked.
“I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Jack shoved his hands into his coat pockets and made a thoughtful noise. “Maybe that’s because you drank too much coffee.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “I doubt it.”
“Well, then I don’t know if I believe you.” Jack bought their entrance tickets and they both got their hands stamped by the tired looking teenager. “Because I woke up at three this morning with no blankets. You seemed pretty asleep then.”
Eric had the decency to blush, but he tried to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s - I don’t have an answer to that. But I’m tired this morning, so coffee.”
Jack shrugged. “If you drink any more before lunch you won’t be happy about it.”
They got lunch at the museum restaurant and then walked around downtown. Eric was recognized by a group of women who fussed over him and asked for pictures before going on their way and Jack took a picture of Eric posing in front of a statue to post on his official Instagram page, which was mostly full of shots from Samwell, the canal in Ottawa (which his family visited at least once every winter), and downtown Montreal.
“I should get a picture of you for Twitter,” Eric said cheerfully. “Let everyone know you’re not neglecting me.”
Jack laughed. “I’d appreciate that.”
Eric pushed himself against Jack’s side and got on his toes before turning his phone towards their faces. “Smile,” he instructed, giving Jack barely enough time before snapping the picture and pulling away. “How are you so warm? I’m freezing out here. You’re like a human space heater.”
“I told you you’d need a better coat, Bitty.”
Eric grumbled something that Jack couldn’t hear, but he knocked their shoulders together so that Jack knew he wasn’t actually offended. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he added.
Jack smiled and felt himself blush, but he hoped that Eric would assume it was just because of the cold. I’m lucky you’re here, Jack thought. But he didn’t say it.
Mornings were Jack’s favourite time of day. Before everyone else was awake, before even the sun was at its peak, when the world was quiet and cold - that was when Jack himself felt the most calm.
Eric, by contrast, was not a morning person. He woke up grumbled and stumbled into the kitchen, nearly grabbing Jack’s cup out of his hands.
“Decaf,” Jack informed him. “It won’t help you.”
Eric nodded and went about making himself a cup. “When’s your practice today?”
“In,” he paused and checked the time, “about half an hour. So I have to go.” He downed the rest of his cup and put it in the sink. “I have a spare key by the door if you want to leave while I’m gone.” Jack grabbed his bag, dropped a kiss to Eric’s cheek, and walked out the door.
He only realized what he’d done as the elevator doors closed in front of his face.
More than once, Jack had to be called back to focus during practice. He couldn’t stop thinking about his slip-up from that morning. He’d been so careful to keep his feelings under wraps during the week, trying not to let anything slip - but Eric had looked so comfortable in his kitchen, sunlight filtering in and hitting him just right that Jack felt a tightness in his chest and it had happened before his mind had caught up with his body.
He made sure that he was last off the ice and last out of the locker room, trying anything to stay out of his apartment for longer just in case Eric was still there and wanted to ‘talk’.
Eric was in the apartment but he fairly obviously didn’t want to talk, if the way he shoved a plate of pie in Jack’s face before he had both feet through the door was any indication. Jack took it gratefully and dug in.
“Is this maple apple?” he asked around the fork.
Eric nodded stiffly. “Do you know how much maple syrup you have in your fridge? I’m surprised that your nutritionist hasn’t killed you yet.”
Jack shrugged. “She’s thought about it, any time your care packages come in.” He looked down and worked at separating a bite with his fork. “She loves your cookies, though, so I just bribe her with those and she leaves me alone.”
“And you used to make fun of me for bribing people with baked goods - look at you now!”
Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “I take back anything I said about you using pies as a bribe - it works.”
Eric looked smug as he dished himself his own piece of pie. “I know it does.”
Monday, despite Jack’s blunders in the morning, had been comfortable. They’d both pretended that nothing had happened, and tried to act as normal as always. Tuesday was a stark contrast to that - Eric was already gone by the time Jack woke up. There was a note on the kitchen counter that informed Jack that he was at the grocery store. Jack found a pen to write a quick ‘ok’ just in case Eric came back while he was at practice before making himself some toast.
When Jack got back, the apartment was still empty, but there was more food in the kitchen now than before and Eric had added to the note conversation.
‘Just a quick stop in to drop stuff off. There’s a specialty store I want to check out - heard they have interesting fruit preserves. I’ll be back soon!’
Jack grabbed a protein bar from his cupboard and found his book, settling into the couch to read quietly until Eric came crashing into the apartment.
“You bought enough to feed an army, eh?”
Eric rolled his eyes and unpacked the grocery bag that he was carrying. “I think a hockey team would be a better analogy. They eat enough for a country in my experience.”
Jack laughed. “Probably.”
They didn’t talk much after that. Jack couldn’t concentrate on his book, the feeling of Eric’s skin sleep-warm under his hands and lips still burned in his memory, but he pretended to while Eric threw himself wholly into baking.
The hours ticked away and the sun fell in the sky before Jack finally broached the walls of the kitchen and cleared his throat to get Eric’s attention. “Do you want to go to a restaurant? You’ve kind of… filled my kitchen, so we can’t make anything here tonight.”
Eric whipped his forehead with the back of his hand and only succeeded in getting flour all over his forehead. He didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah!” His voice came out too high, so he paused and started again. “Yeah, sure, good idea. Just let me take this pie out of the oven and we can go!”
Despite the awkwardness of the day, they were more comfortable at the restaurant. Jack thought that maybe it was because they were outside of the apartment, because they were expected to act like a couple here. He didn’t try and follow that train of thought.
They weren’t recognized until the end of the meal. A woman came up to them and asked for an autograph, and then others followed her.
“Can we see a kiss?” someone asked.
Before Jack could even process the question, Eric was agreeing and pulling him down, pressing their lips together in an awkward and chaste kiss. Jack hoped that the awkwardness was read as ‘not used to public displays of affection’ rather than the truth that it was their first kiss.
Eric pulled away and continued chatting happily with fans, but Jack couldn’t concentrate after that.
When they got back to the apartment, Jack went to the fold out couch.
Eric was either still asleep or just not leaving the bedroom when Jack woke up. He folded himself out of the low bed and stretched his arms and back, trying to get all the soreness out of his bones.
When he finally got back from practice, Eric was standing in the front hallway looking almost angry. Immediately, Jack was concerned, all thoughts of awkwardness pushed from his mind.
“What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk.”
Jack felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach and his face go slack. He dropped his bag on the ground and nodded slowly. “Okay, I - okay.”
“I like you,” Eric started. “I’ve liked you since we were in school and I really can’t see how you wouldn’t have known? Because I was really obvious about it. And I really am proud of you for coming out, because I know what it was doing to you, but I’m also kind of angry at you for asking me to do this.
The only thing Jack could thing to do was apologize, so he did. He came out slightly mechanical and without much feeling behind it, but he was still in shock from what Eric was saying. And then it all clicked together in his head, and he smiled. “I really didn’t know that,” he admitted. “I was busy hoping that you didn’t notice how much I liked you.”
Eric blinked slowly. “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” Jack drew his eyebrows together in confusion.
“You’re telling me that we’ve liked each other for about the same amount of time and have never done anything about it,” Eric said. “Let’s not waste anymore time, then.”
Before Jack could respond, Eric was pulling him down to his height and kissing him like the night before. Except it was better now, knowing that he meant it.
“Do you really have to leave now?” Jack asked, his face pressed to Eric’s hair as they said their goodbyes before security.
“I have a guest appearance this afternoon, so yeah. Sorry, sweetheart.”
Jack pulled away, but only far enough so that he could kiss his boyfriend (and wasn’t that something interesting to get to say truthfully?) again. He knew they were making a bit of a scene, but he didn’t care. “Call me when you get in, okay?”
Eric sighed and rolled his eyes, but the effect was lost behind his grin. “You know I will.” He grudgingly removed his arms from around Jack’s waist and stepped away. “I’m going to be late for the flight if I don’t go now. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” He ducked in for another kiss. “Bye.”
“Bye. See you soon.”
Predictably, everyone forget about Jack and Eric quickly after his coming out. A few other players followed him, and others made huge public relations blunders, and even the most obscure sports media bloggers stopped talking about them.
Things were going really well, which was what had Jack standing in the middle of a mostly empty apartment in New York City and a contract for the Rangers signed and shipped away with his agent.
“This is really happening,” Eric said happily.
Jack sighed. “I know. I filled out the paperwork.” He was ready for the whole ordeal to just be finished and behind them so they could get on with it.
Eric put his hands on either side of Jack’s face to kiss him soundly. “Have I told you how much I love you yet?”
“A few times today, yes,” Jack chuckled.
“New York,” he said slowly. “You’ll be living in New York City, with me, in this apartment.” Eric looked with wide eyes around the box-filled apartment. “This is so exciting!”
Jack smiled, his boyfriends enthusiasm catching. “Yeah, it is.”