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Jack
1/1/2016
Jack knows he’s being a jerk, but he can’t really bring himself to care. It’s the start of a brand new year, the Winter Classic is just starting on the TV, his closest friends are with him in the room, and he can’t decide if he hates them most, or himself.
However hard to tries to stop it, he keeps thinking about Bitty and Whits’ kiss last night. He doesn't want Whits’ hook-up lifestyle, but he envies the ease with which he can slip into seduction. Jack is always too safe, too guarded, even now he’s sure about what...who he wants. He’s good at taking risks on the ice, goddammit, why can’t he do that when it comes to his happiness?
He knows Shitty’s worried about him and right now he’s not grateful for it. He’s tempted to snap at him, start a pointless argument. But Shitty knows him too well, and Jack would get tied up in knots. He bites his tongue and moves the pizza box further away from Shitty in the hope it will annoy him.
Shitty simply leans over him to reach for a slice, not hugging but still exuding aggressive affection. Jack sighs, he’s already lost this face off. He feels a little of his tension leave him and he starts to concentrate on the game. He glances over to Bitty and Whits but they don’t look to be getting closer. If anything they seem to be rather uninterested in each other, both staring at their phones.
Two minutes into the second period and the Habs score again. Shitty groans as Jack smiles. Bitty’s phone immediately blares out some peppy tune and Jack turns to watch him tense up before he answers, moving to take the call in the kitchen. It’s Kevin, Jack’s sure. He wonders if Bitty will be honest with him about the kiss and if so what the outcome is most likely to be. Jack really doesn't want Bits to be shouted at, he’s already looking too fragile today.
Bitty keeps his conversation soft at first, but before long Jack hears a voice raised in distress, followed by the sound of a cupboard door slamming. He quickly gets up from the sofa, throwing some disjointed excuse about water over his shoulder. His eyes narrow as he hears a choked sob. As much as he wants to give Bitty his privacy, if Kevin’s saying something to hurt him, so help him God…
Bitty’s backed himself up against the wall, cowering under the shelf displaying Jack’s small collection of Lapka studio pottery. Tears are dropping from his eyelashes onto his phone, Kevin clearly having hung up on him. Jack approaches him gently, trying not to spook him, fisting his hands against his thighs to stop himself from reaching out to touch.
Jack can hear Bitty’s breath snag and he can’t tell if its sadness from the break up with Kevin, or frustration at Jack’s presence. He gets no time to guess though, as suddenly they are overwhelmed by a loud crash and a shower of jagged pottery pieces rains down on them both.
Jack jerks his head up in surprise and falls over his feet, tumbling backwards into the open walk-in food cupboard. He catches his hip on a shelf and yelps as he crashes down. He must have put his hand out to Bitty in the chaos of the moment because next thing he knows his arms are full as his backside hits the floor. The cupboard door slams shut, leaving them sprawled and tangled together in almost darkness.
Jack is currently lying third on the NHL power play goals table. Every team he’s played with has known his real genius is his astonishingly quick reactions in front of the goal. He’s been practising getting his stick on the puck and deflecting it in for twenty years now. His body reads the team play before his brain does.
Adrenalin rushes through his veins. His heart beats deafeningly hard in the quiet of the kitchen cupboard. In the soft light he can see the moisture on Bitty’s eyelashes, the trickle of blood down his hairline. Bitty’s fingertips are pushing hard into Jack’s biceps. Jack has absolutely no idea what’s going on, but actually that really doesn't matter right now. His hands, lips and heart have got this.
“Bits?” he says, his right hand cupping Bitty’s cheek and his left hand wrapping round the slim waist to steady him. Bitty’s lips are already on his, slanting together into the sweetest kiss Jack has ever experienced. Something slots into place in Jack’s heart; he knew it’d be like this when it finally happened, he’s not a man to linger in the gray areas. His arms tighten around Bitty and they deepen the kiss. Jack swears he can hear cheering, supposes it must be coming from the TV in the living room before he tunes it out in favour of Bitty’s contented murmurs.
**** ~*~ ****
Bitty
12/31/2015
Everyone who’s ever played hockey with Jack knows he’s at his most instinctive on the power play. With the team working hard in front of him, he slips into place in front of the opposing goalie and his hockey-seeped body responds without thought or question. If his team can get the puck within arms length of him, the klaxon will sound before Jack’s even aware he’s taken a shot. Jack’s best teams have learned the surest way to get points is to plan exactly how to get Jack the puck.
Bitty texts the planning team to meet for a 8.30am breakfast at the café just up from Jack’s apartment. Everyone’s kinda tired from holiday travelling and getting up so early, but they've been working on this high-risk strategic play for a while now. It seems like no one else is awake in Providence early on New Year’s Eve; they've got the coffee shop to themselves and the streets are pretty deserted.
Whits is the last one to arrive and sits down to a round of fist bumps and a chirp from Holster about the time it took him to walk three blocks. Bitty gets Kevin on FaceTime and holds the phone so he can see the table. They can see Karen sitting next to him and leaning in. Ransom has Excel open on his laptop to a complicated multi-tabbed worksheet that they were all supposed to memorise. Shitty definitely hasn't even looked it at and Whits is guiltily remembering how he accidentally deleted it when Jack unexpectedly asked him what he was frowning at. Lardo looks between them and sighs, before reaching into her backpack, pulling out a whiteboard and pens and slapping them down on the table. “Okay,” she says, “this is how it’s going to go.”
Play one: boarding
Boarding: checking a defenseless player in the back, causing them to violently fall/impact into the boards. This typically leads to the face/head of the unaware player to hit first, causing greater chance of injury. Usually a penalty.
“You’re kissing me at midnight,” Whits says to Jack, like it’s already settled.
Jack rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
Whits’ gaze shifts to Bits. “So Eric—”
“Oh god,” Bitty says.
Whits slides over to him and cuddles him in. “C’mon. Kiss me at midnight.”
“I'm what, your fifth choice?” Bits asks, struggling a bit not to laugh at how easily this is going.
“No, not even. Second, maybe.” He leans in and whispers “You're playing like you're 6 feet tall today.” Bitty uses his outstretched middle finger to scratch his ear and Whits grins back at him.
Whits and Bitty stand together as the party counts down to midnight. Bitty feels like he’s at his high school prom all over again, awkwardly slow dancing with his best friend. She was a sweetheart about it all, whereas Bitty knows Whits is going to enjoy taking advantage. He leers comically at Bitty as he leans in.
Whits absolutely gives it his best moves, he’s got the sluttiest tongue action going and his hand is slowly sliding down Bitty’s side. Bits mentally rolls his eyes and breaks them apart. He tightens his hands, just subtly digging his nails into the thick muscles of Whits’ neck. Whits whimpers a little at the sensation and Bitty can’t help laughing, he really should have predicted that reaction.
He looks round at Jack and his laughter stops as he sees Jack heading off down the corridor, his shoulders clenched and his head down. Bitty always knew this was going to be the hardest bit and Whits has to grab his elbow and physically hold him still. He feels a gentle hand on the back of his neck, anchoring him again. Bits is surprised when his looks up and sees it belongs to Holster. He’s looking very well kissed, but he’s got sympathy in his eyes.
Play two: neutral zone trap
Neutral zone trap: defensive strategy focused on preventing the opposing team from proceeding with the puck through the neutral zone and attempting to take the puck from the opposing team.
The next day everyone is grumpy and a little worried and it takes a pep talk from Lardo to keep the strategic attack on track. Jack is his belligerent worst, clearly not doing a good job of holding in too many bubbling emotions. Shitty knows the next play works to all his strengths but he still thinks resentfully of how much more fun Ransom and Holster are having.
They settle in on Jack’s huge sectional to watch the Winter Classic, nothing but grunts between them. Halfway through the first period, Shitty leans across Jack to reach another slice of pizza. He keeps leaning against Jack’s tense torso, letting his bare arm rest against Jack’s, trusting the skin-to-skin contact and his body’s warmth to do its job. Jack grunts and shifts, letting Shitty properly curl into his side. Neither of them look away from the TV.
Play three: deke
Deke: when a player handles the puck or himself in such a manner to fool the opponent into moving out of position, allowing the player to get past.
The second period has barely started when Byron knocks it in for the Habs. As he drops to his knees in celebration, Bitty’s phone breaks into a chorus of Starships . He jumps to his feet and walks rapidly to the kitchen as he connects. “Hi Kevin,” he says, his tone carefully soft.
“How’s it going so far?” asks Kevin and Bitty sighs, keeping his voice low.
“I'm honestly not sure, I hate that I've hurt him. I keep telling myself I have to be cruel to be kind but lord, I wish we could have found a better offensive play.”
“Ready for the gun lap?” Kevin is trying to make him smile with his refusal to use hockey terms. He and Karen have rapidly become Bitty’s favourite people this semester and he definitely owes Karen a pie when this is all over. She’s been his favourite shoulder to cry on, but lending her fiancé to the battle was above and beyond the call of friendship.
“Yup.” Bitty takes a deep breath and tries to remember the theater techniques Kevin has taught him. He visualises himself as a tough and tiny eight year old, remembers the shock and sadness deep in his bones the day Blackie died.
“What?!” Bitty’s voice wavers as it rises. “You think what?!” He can hear the hysterical hitch as the tears start in his eyes. More importantly, he can also hear some movement on the couch behind him in the living room.
“Kevin, don’t pressure me! I can’t do this!” the tears are running down Bitty’s cheeks now and he blinks his eyelashes as he opens, slams, then again opens the pantry cupboard door.
“Really great job!” says the voice in his ear, the director of Samwell’s successful 2015 Edinburgh fringe festival production. “Ransom says everyone’s in position. Good luck!”
Bitty’s chest heaves. He moved to lean against the wall opposite the open pantry, tears dripping onto the phone clasped in his hand as he stares at the screen, up at Jack, and then down again. Jack comes further into the room and stands in front of him, his fist clenched but his face only showing concern.
Play four: shutdown pair, slew foot
Shutdown pair: two forwards or defensemen working together, fundamentally to stop the opposing team's offense players; slew foot: sweeping or kicking out a player's skate or tripping them from behind, causing them to fall backwards.
Behind and to the left of Jack, Bitty catches the movement of the balcony curtain and a flash of Holster’s blond hair. It takes everything in him not to look, not to tense up. He reminds himself how much he trusts his teammates, how they always have his back. He remembers Jack’s careful tuition in how to take a check.
It’s hard to miss the end of the long Japanese blowgun poking in from the balcony but Jack’s attention is still focussed on Bitty. Three things happen so quickly that afterwards Bitty is hard pressed to remember it in order: a strange ‘huff’ noise from outside, the whoosh of a dart over his head and then the crash of Jack’s hideous vase as it tips off its shelf and falls in pieces down onto Bitty’s head. He yells as a fragment grazes his forehead before bouncing off his phone, shattering the screen.
Jack takes a sharp step backwards as another shard drops point first onto his foot and he falls onto his arse in the pantry. Bitty throws his phone to the floor and crashes in after him. Ransom’s shadow passes behind and the pantry door slams shut, leaving them in the silence of the food-padded cupboard and the gentle red glow of the apartment's fire detection system.
**** ~*~ ****
“I had no idea Holster had trained as a ninja,” says Bitty, much later, in bed, his head on Jack’s naked chest and his leg draped over Jack’s thighs. They can both hear said ninja, Shitty and Whits singing Bang Bang in the kitchen, Whits having taken the Jessie J part and Shitty as Nicki, obviously.
And then, a little more hesitantly, “Are you angry with us… with me?” It’s one thing to try a complicated risky play on the ice, but Jack would have every right to walk away from this sort of manipulation. Or at least not invite more of it, and Bitty wants more, he really really does.
Jack thinks about it carefully and realises that his head is quiet and his heart is full. He can’t remember the last time that happened. He doesn't want to talk about it yet, although he suspects the team might have something in mind to combat that weakness too. He knows he’ll have to define it all soon. He puts a gentle finger under Bitty’s chin and pulls him up for another kiss.