Work Text:
To: Jack
I can’t wait to see y’all tonight!
To: Jack
Its gonna be so much fun!!!!
To: Jack
I’ve been baking all day! (I’ve got a maple apple in the back of the fridge so Ransom & Holster won’t get to it)
To: Jack
I’m just so excited!!!
To: Jack
!!!!!
From: Jack
Me too.
***
Bitty was elbows deep in flour and butter when the front door crashed open to reveal Shitty screaming, “WE’RE BACK, BITCHES,” and then, significantly more quietly, “Though the term ‘bitch’ has a long history of degrading women and in most cases is pretty fucking unacceptable. Bro, like, whoa. Not chill, but in a space, such as the magnificent Haus, it mi--” only to be cut off by an unintelligible scream from Lardo.
Bitty smiled to himself and finished dumping the dough onto the counter. Making his way over to the sink, he heard someone enter into the kitchen.
“No pie until I get a hug, Shits!” he tossed over his shoulder, smirking.
“Shitty’s still on the floor with Lardo,” Jack smiled quietly. He nodded to the wine glass on the counter, “I see you’ve started the night early.”
“Oh, that? That’s nothing, sweetheart.” Bitty grimaces as his cheeks flare with heat.
He hadn’t meant to call Jack sweetheart; it’d just kinda popped out. It hadn’t felt like such a big deal when Jack was living in the Haus. He called everyone some variation of sweetheart or honey, but after months of skype calls and text messages, he hadn’t called Jack anything other than, well, Jack in ages.
“Eric, I--” Jack starts before Shitty barges in with Lardo attached at the waist.
Bitty startles at the use of his name, but his full-body jerk is luckily ignored in the chaos that is Shitty picking up Bitty and twirling him.
“Shitty!” Bitty screeched, “Put me down!”
“Never!” He yelled squeezing tighter.
“Put me down! I can’t breathe,” Bitty gasped with a huff of laughter.
Firmly on solid ground again, he noticed Jack was nowhere in sight, but Shitty quickly distracted him.
“Bitty, my man! Lardo here said you’ve been baking up a storm!” Shitty clapped his hand on Lardo’s shoulder. She huffed but didn’t push it off. For a moment Bitty caught her eyes and smiled at the warmth he saw in them. She gave a small warm smile back before changing it into her usual smirk.
“What do you have for me?” Shitty asked looking around the kitchen and breaking Bitty out of his moment with Lardo.
“Well, I’ve got a little bit of everything, but I may have a strawberry cream in the fri--”
“BITS, YOU ARE THE FUCKING SHIT!”
***
“Jack!”
Bitty watched him turn at the sound of his voice. A beer bottle was dangling from his fingers, half empty, but Bitty had watched him nurse it all night. Which was looking like more and more of a good decision as the full affect of his third margarita was making Bitty’s legs feel like wet noodles. But that could have been just Jack. It was hard to tell, and the alcohol wasn’t helping. Bitty placed his glass rather heavily on the nearest surface. A bookshelf? Maybe.
He wasn’t paying attention anymore, because Jack was in front of him. His chest a few scant inches from his own. Bitty could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and for a moment he reveled in it.
“Bittle?”
Bitty snapped open his eyes. “Oh, sorry, Jack!”
A look of concern flashed across Jack’s face. “Are you alright? Do you need water?”
Bitty felt the flush rise on his cheeks, and quickly grabbed the glass at his elbow. After a large sip, hiding the the softness of Jack’s eyes and the way it made his stomach flutter dangerously, Bitty just smiles and said, “I’m fine. Selfie?”
The smile returns on Jack’s face. And Bitty can almost imagine there’s fondness in the way his eyes crinkle, and for a moment, his heart clenches in his chest.
“Haven’t you got enough selfies with me tonight?”
“Oh, you--!” Bitty’s hand shot out without his permission and smacked into Jack’s chest. “Jack Zimmerman, do not chirp me! Now you come here and take a selfie with me.” Bitty used the hand on Jack’s chest to manhandle him into the position next to him.
Jack was a line of heat along Bitty’s side, and he took another long sip of his drink before putting it down to grab his phone.
“Smile on three, eh?”
Bitty shot Jack a blinding smile. “Now you’re getting it!”
Jack smiled back, and Bitty could feel his face flushing further. Quickly turning to his outstretched arm, he pulled up the camera and flipped it to face them.
He just hoped he could blame the blush on his cheeks on the alcohol and not Jack.
***
“Jack, Jaaaaaaack. Selfie!”
Bitty knew that there was a reason he shouldn’t be draping himself over Jack, but he couldn’t remember what that reason was at the moment. He thinks he might have left it at the bottom of his fifth margarita. But Jack was so warm, and he hadn’t said stop. So Bitty figured it was okay.
“Jack. You’d tell me not to, right?”
“Not to what?” Jack looked confused, but he was smiling.
“Not to-to this,” Bitty gave him a squeeze, “if you didn’t want me too, right?”
Jack was smiling bigger now. His eyes were smiley crinkling instead of confused crinkling.
“Of course, Bittle.”
“Good,” Bitty said, patting Jack’s cheek and his happy crinkles seriously. “Now, selfie.”
“Sure,” Jack chuckled. Bitty could feel the way his chest quaked with laughter, and he felt his stomach flutter in response.
Smiling, Bitty lifted up his phone and tried to focus the camera.
“One . . . two . . . three . . . smile!” Bitty said, hitting the shutter button.
But as he hit it he felt something strange. A warm gentle pressure was pushing into his cheek. His thumb still over the photo button, he continued taking pictures as he turned towards the feeling. Turning, it disappeared, and he found Jack sitting next to him, blushing profusely.
“I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” he barked.
“Okay?” Bitty asked and watched Jack shoot up. Trying to follow, Bitty tried to stand, but he moved too quickly. He stumbled forward, and just missed braining himself on the corner of an end table. Instead, he fell into the sturdy warmth of Jack, whose arm instantly falls over BItty’s shoulders to help him stay balanced.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” Bitty announced and tried to step away from Jack only to stumble again. “Maybe not,” he giggled watching the room spin.
With the weight of Jack’s arm across his shoulders and his own arm wrapped around Jack’s waist, he managed to get up the stairs and next to his room. To be honest, there were times when he could have shook his arm off of his shoulder, but the weight of it was so grounding, he didn’t have the heart in him to do it. Expertly managing to keep Bitty up while also flipping off Ransom and Holster’s cat calls was a talent, and Bitty had never been more appreciative than when he stumbled going up the stairs and Jack kept him from face planting while simultaneously telling Ransom to cut off some overeager freshman.
At the door, Bitty tried to guide the key into the lock, but it was significantly more difficult than it had been earlier in the night. Jack gently pushed his hands out of the way and leaned him up against the wall, where he immediately slumped over.
Keys in hand, Jack made quick work of the lock. With the door open, he gently guided Bitty through it, dropping the keys on the desk in the process.
Falling onto the bed, Bitty kicked off his shoes wincing at the loud thumps that resulted halfway across the room and then giggled.
“Sorry, sober me,” he whisper-giggled.
Looking over to Jack, he watched as he started making his way towards the door.
“Jack?”
Pausing, Jack turned back. “Yes?”
“Where’re you goin’?” Bitty slurred.
“I’m going crash in Chowder’s room.”
Bitty’s eyes widened. “Noooo. Don’t. I saw Farmer and Chowder come upstairs,” he said trying desperately to remember when, but only coming up with, “. . . earlier?”
Bitty could just make out the small smile on Jack’s face through the darkness. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just sleep in Shitty’s old room.”
“But, Shitty and Lardo were gonna talk about feeeelings, Jack. Feelings.”
“Aaand that leaves Ransom and Holster’s room, which no,” he sighed.
“Sleep with me,” Bitty blurted.
“What?” Even in the dark, Bitty couldn’t miss the surprise on Jack’s face.
“Just, ugh,” he groaned, sticking out his arms towards Jack and making grabby hands, “Come here. You’re warm, and I wanna cuddle.”
Jack somehow managed to slump in what looked to be relief then tense up almost immediately.
“B-but--”
“Shuddup, and get over here, Jack Zimmerman,” Bitty demanded.
Softly closing the door behind himself, Jack made his way slowly over to the bed, quietly toeing off his shoes at the foot of the bed in the process. He lowered himself down onto the bed fully dressed on top of the covers next to Bitty. Instantly, Bitty wrapped his arms around him and shoved his head into his armpit.
“Mmmm. Warm,” he purred. “G’dn’t, Jack.”
Jack whispered almost soundlessly in reply, “Goodnight, Eric.”
***
The morning was disgustingly bright, and Bitty hated everything. Everything except the nice warm thing he was curled into and around. That he liked. Unfortunately, he had no idea what it was.
Tearing his eyes open, he blinked against the agonizing light to see Jack’s tousled black hair and stricken face looking down at him.
“No,” Bitty groaned, shoving his face back into Jack’s armpit.
“What?” Jack said, his voice gravelly and warm in a way that made Bitty’s heart whimper.
“I’m not dealing with this right now. I’m too hungover.”
“Bitty, you can’t put things off because you’re hungover.”
“Yes, I can. Now, don’t move. You’re warm.”
“B-b-but--”
“Nope. No buts. Only sleep.”
And Bitty could feel Jack’s judgmental and confused stare, but he was resolutely ignoring it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ignore it for long, because Shitty burst in.
“GUESS WHO JUST GOT LAID BY HIS BRAND-FUCKING-NEW GIRLFRIEND?”
Bitty blearily raised his head and blinked at Shitty’s stark naked figure and look of pure confusion at the scene before him.
“You. Congratulations. Now go away. I’m too hungover,” Bitty announced and flopped back down with a groan.
A brilliant smile appeared on Shitty’s face. “Nice job, Jay-Z!”
“B-but we’re n-not--”
The door slammed cutting Jack off.
Bitty could feel Jack tensing up underneath him, and he sighed. Slowly, he lifted himself by pushing off Jack’s (rather firm he noticed) chest.
“Jack,” Bitty started sternly, “I like you, but I am too hungover to deal with that right now. And considering you kissed me on the cheek last night, you do to. So boyfriends?”
“You remember that?” Jack sounded stricken.
“Yes. So boyfriends?”
“Of course!”
“Good.” Bitty patted Jack’s chest. “Boyfriends.”
“Boyfriends.”
Bitty smiled at the wondering tone in Jack’s voice.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Of course.”