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Bitty lounged on the sofa, laptop balanced in his lap. Originally, he planned on working on the conclusion of his thesis while Jack was at practice. Alas, he decided to check his emails first. This led to him clicking on the Pottery Barn one, which advertised a spring sale on their website. Of course, he had to see if there was anything good. Mama complained to him the week before how expensive a floor lamp she wanted for the living room was. Maybe it was part of the sale and he could send her the link.
Although he checked for the lamp right away, it still wasn’t marked down low enough for mama to deem it worth the price. He did end up perusing the rest of the sale items, imagining which pieces he would purchase once he graduated and had a steady income. Each item Bitty liked ended up in a new tab for him to look at later. He planned on using it as a reward for finally finishing his conclusion.
When he reached the end of the sale items, he minimized the entire Pottery Barn window and pulled up his thesis. All he had to do was sum up his entire 30 page paper into a few neat paragraphs. Easy peasy. He leaned against the couch cushions and arched his back, stretching his arms over his head to release some of the tension from being hunched over his laptop before going back to work.
Bitty diligently typed away at his thesis, wanting to get the paper done so he could finally get his baking privileges back. He couldn’t bake at Jack’s apartment even if he wanted to; his boyfriend preemptively removed 90% of his bakeware before he arrived, and none of the Falconers would reveal who was currently hosting his beloved pie tins, beautiful stand mixer, or even his favorite set of measuring cups. When he rummaged around the now-bare kitchen after Jack left for practice this morning, all he could find were a few cookie sheets, a rolling pin, a set of small bowls, some heart shaped cookie cutters, and one mixing bowl. He thought it was cruel to have the only bowl that could be used to make something was instead marinating the chicken for tonight’s dinner.
An hour later, Bitty let out a small whoop in celebration. He finished his thesis! He double-checked that he saved the document before composing an email to Professor Atley and adding his thesis as an attachment. So what if he didn’t read it over first? It was supposed to be a first draft. All that really mattered was he was done writing! He placed his laptop next to himself on the couch and stood up, stretching once more.
Going into the currently depressing kitchen, Bitty grabbed a glass from the cabinet and went over to the fridge, taking out the pitcher of sweet tea he made the night before. Thank goodness Jack didn’t send the pitcher off with one of his coworkers; he would’ve rioted if he was unable to make the southern staple. He filled his glass with ice before pouring in the sweet tea, taking a refreshing sip before placing the rest back in the fridge.
With his new drink in hand, Bitty made his way back to the couch. He set the tea on a coaster on the coffee table, and picked up his laptop. Time to do some more online window shopping.
By the time Jack returned from practice, Bitty was done with his bout of retail therapy. “Hey, Bits! How are you?” his boyfriend called out as he came through the door.
Bitty hopped up from his seat, setting the laptop down next to his half-drunk sweet tea, before rushing to meet Jack. “Guess what, honey?” He asked as he skidded to a stop in front of him.
Jack glanced up from where he was untying his shoes. “What?”
“I finished my thesis! And I sent the rough draft to Alice!”
“Bits, that wonderful news!” He rose and gave him a peck on the lips.
“It means I can bake again! Who has the mixer and my pie tins? I want to celebrate!” Bitty proclaimed as Jack followed him to the kitchen.
“Eh…More than one person have your baking supplies. It will take a few days to get it all.”
“If you tell me who has what, I can pick one person to pick up my things from. And I can find something to make with what they have.” Bitty glanced around the kitchen. “Right now, I think I could make some sort of parfait with pudding and graham crackers with what remains here, but I wanted to do something fancier.”
Jack ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know who has what. I packed everything up in boxes and asked my teammates to take one for safekeeping.”
“What?! But… my pie tins! What if Tater got them and tried to make something in them? I love him, but he’s a worse cook than Nursey. Moomaw will kill me if they get ruined.”
“Bits,” Jack held his hands out in front of him, trying to placate Bitty before he worked himself up into a rant. “They were asked to hold onto the box for safe-keeping. They know not to go through it. That being said, I won’t be able to collect everything until practice on Monday.
“I’m sorry you can’t make what you want.” He leaned over and kissed the crown of Bitty’s head. “But the parfait thing you mention sounds good. I’ll eat it if you make it.”
Bitty let out a resigned sigh. “I suppose that’s better than nothing. We would’ve had to go to the store for me to make anything else, seeing as you refused to stock the kitchen for my visit.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Jack asked as he pulled a red Gatorade out of the fridge.
“It’s been torture, not being able to bake anywhere on campus! Did you see the fliers the Frogs distributed? They acted like I was some kind of criminal. And I’m 90% sure that Nursey paid one of his friends on the Swallow’s editorial staff to run it as an ad. And then it ended up in The Daily, complete with quotes from anonymous SMH teammates and Shruti of all people. I can’t believe my fellow queer captain betrayed me like that!
“When you go back to Samwell tomorrow, you can bake to your heart’s content.” By this point, Jack had poured his Gatorade into a glass. “Come join me on the couch. We can watch some Great British Bake-off and unwind,” he said as he walked towards the living room.
Bitty trailed after him, and watched as his boyfriend moved his laptop out of the way for his own coaster.
“What’s this?” Jack asked, pointing at the throw pillows still up on the screen.
“Oh, Pottery Barn is having a sale, and I was taking a look.”
“I like the color of them.” He gestured at the screen. “I think they would look good in here.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah. It’ll go with the wall color, right? Or is it not a warm blue, as maman would say.”
“No, it would match,” Bitty was quick to reassure as he settled down on the couch next to him. “I didn’t know if you would like them, is all. I also think they would be good in here.”
“If you like them, get them. Let me get my credit card.” Jack stood up to grab his wallet.
“Wait, you’re letting me get something for your apartment?”
Jack paused, card in hand. “This isn’t just my apartment. I chose it in part because of you. Even if it was subconscious. I wouldn’t have this fancy kitchen if it were only for me.”
“You got this place because of the kitchen?”
He nodded, refusing to make eye contact but blushing all the same. “Whatever place I picked, I knew it had to have a good kitchen. I guess what I’m trying to say is—”
“Oh my god!”
“You don’t have to ask; this is your home, too.”
“I-I…You mean it?” Although they spoke about moving in together after Bitty graduated, he still vowed the apartment as something that was solely Jack’s. He was only a frequent visitor at this point. At his boyfriend’s nod, he added, “Thank you, Jack.”
He held out the Amex. “If you want the pillows, buy the pillows. I trust your judgement.”
Bitty took the card from his hand. “Before I order these, is there anything else you think we should buy?”
Jack shook his head. “Not that I can think of. But feel free to add something else if it catches your eye.”