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Spring C was going far more differently than it had last year.
For one, Bitty wasn't nearly as drunk. Both shoes were on his feet, Shitty hadn't been there to wake him up with a mimosa, and Jack Zimmermann had not piggybacked him all the way back to the Haus.
(Bitty's toes curled at the thought. He'd been in more intimate situations with Jack in the following months, had bared his heart to that boy, but the memory of that night stuck with him like a warm summer haze, the ghost of the budding romance tingling in his stomach like a virus.)
Other things that were different: Ransom spent the night with his arm around March’s shoulders, nuzzling her neck between songs; Holster was drunk crying, supported between Dex and a slightly bewildered Tango; Lardo and Nursey were sloppily singing along to the band, swaying together with Whiskey; and Chowder was listing into Bitty’s side, smiling serenely.
Oh, and Caitlin Farmer wasn't there holding Chowder’s hand.
The breakup had been amicable, and far less dramatic than Bitty’s own breakup with Jack. Farmer was going abroad for the Spring, and then she'd be working at her Aunt’s law office in Dallas the entire summer, and they'd decided long-distance just wasn't going to work for them.
(Bitty could relate; distance had been a factor in his deteriorating relationship with Jack. Chowder was the only person who knew this, because Chowder was the only person Bitty ever told about the secret relationship, when Chowder had found him sobbing into Señor Bunny the day Jack called it quits.)
Still, it hurt Bitty’s heart to see Chowder alone. He and Farmer had been cuter than a sack of kittens, and Chowder’s smile seemed a little dimmer this semester. But maybe Bitty was just projecting.
The concert ended and the team headed slowly back towards the Haus. March had left to find her friends, so Ransom, Holster, and Lardo were all stumbling along in a big group, chanting, “HOCKEY SENIORS! HOCKEY SENIORS!” Bitty was almost certain they would all crash on Lardo’s bed tonight, crying and reminiscing and whatever else seniors did so close to graduation.
Nursey and Dex were bickering, though they both had fond looks on their faces. Whiskey and Tango had left to head to their dorms, or maybe to hang out with the lacrosse team, or whatever it is they did when they weren't at the Haus. Chowder was still leaning up against Bitty, but he wrapped an arm around Bitty’s shoulder as they walked.
“You doin’ alright, sugar?” Bitty asked, looking up.
Chowder grinned. “Yeah, that was a good concert, wasn't it? Real good dancing music. Oh!” His smile faded. “Bitty, you didn't dance! You always dance!”
Bitty shrugged as best he could with a heavy, goalie arm around him. “Wasn't feeling up to it, I suppose.”
Chowder frowned. “Is this because of-? I mean, are you still-? It's been months, Bits. I'm worried about you.”
Bless his sweet, li’l heart . Bitty shook his head, half burying his face into Chowder’s chest. “Oh, hun, no. I mean, am I still hurtin’? Yeah. I think I was in love with him for a long time. But this isn't about him. It's just, sometimes even I'm not in the mood for dancin’.”
This answer didn't seem to convince Chowder. He drew Bitty in closer, eyes going sharp in a way Bitty rarely saw off the ice. “But you're happy, right?”
Bitty sighed. They were fast approaching the Haus, and Dex and Nursey had peeled away to head to their apartment. Holster was crying again, which had set off Ransom, and Lardo was yelling at them both, voice strangled as she fought back her own tears. It would be almost comedic if Bitty wasn't dreading graduation as much as they were.
“I am happy, most days,” Bitty finally said as they walked up the steps. He paused and wrapped both arms around Chowder’s waist, hugging him tightly. “And I'm always happy with you, sunshine.”
“Aw, Bits.” Chowder squeezed him back, resting his chin on the top of Bitty’s head. “You make me happy, too.”
They stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other on the front porch, under the dingy, single light bulb. Part of Bitty marveled in this still, being able to hug a boy so intimately outside where any LAX bro could see. He didn't quite feel safe - would probably never feel safe - but the fear that has surrounded his relationship with Jack was notably absent. Despite himself, Bitty smiled.
Chowder rubbed a circle between Bitty’s shoulder blades, tilting his head down to nuzzle Bitty’s hair. The night was warm, classes were over, and the last dregs of alcohol in Bitty’s bloodstream had left him feeling loose and sleepy.
In a moment of impulse, Bitty dropped a soft kiss to Chowder’s chest, feather-light. Chowder gasped softly, and Bitty could hear his heart rate pick up, could feel it against his cheek, matching his own pulse. They'd toed this line for a while, their friendship softer and more intimate than simply teammates and bros. There was a reason Bitty had not once referred to Chowder as his “son” since the school year began.
“Bitty?” Chowder whispered. Bitty looked up, straight into two wide, stunned, beautiful eyes. Though he still had his braces - poor thing - Chowder had lost some of the youthful roundness in his cheeks, though Bitty suspected they'd both be getting carded until they were thirty. He'd slowly gone from cute to handsome in the past two years, though his wide smile was still purer than sunshine and puppies. Bitty tilted his head back to drink in the sight of his best friend.
A faint blush was spreading across Chowder’s cheekbones. Slowly, tentatively, Chowder leaned down, sliding his hands from Bitty’s back to gently clasp his arms. Bitty parted his lips, heart racing, unsure if he was reading the moment right and-
Chowder’s mouth tasted like cheap beer and warm boy. Bitty surged up into it as Chowder deepened the kiss, grasping at the worn Sharks logo on Chowder’s t-shirt. He pulled them closer together, going up on his tiptoes to adjust the angle.
Like with everything he did in life, Chowder kissed with tenderness and enthusiasm. His hands settled on Bitty’s hips, thumbs rubbing small trails into the bone that jutted out there. “You're so small,” he mused, flushing red as he realized what he'd said. “I mean! You're real thin is all. You're so strong, it's just surprising.”
Bitty snorted. “Sugar, you're all skin and bones. Pot meet kettle.”
Chowder laughed, resting his forehead against Bitty’s. “Still. You're the strongest person I know! I mean, not physically , Holster could probably bench press the both of us, but-! I mean-! You're brave, Bitty,” he said pre quietly. “I forget how small you are ‘cause you're so... Bitty!”
Overwhelmed with affection, Bitty pressed another kiss to Chowder’s lips, soft and chaste. “That doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but thank you, sweetheart.”
Chowder beamed at him, then yawned, eyes glazing over a little. Bitty could tell the day was finally catching up with him - with both of them - so he pulled away and cleared his throat. “Time for bed, I think. You look pooped.”
As Bitty opened the front door, Chowder took his hand. They stumbled up the stairs together, pausing only when they heard three voices from Lardo’s room wailing and cursing at each other affectionately.
“That'll be you, next year,” Chowder said softly. Bitty frowned.
“I guess,” he murmured, letting Chowder nuzzle against his neck. “Though I don't really have friends in my year. I mean, I like Ollie and Wicks alright, but...Jack and Shitty had each other, and those three have been inseparable all year.” He sighed and rested his forehead against Chowder’s collarbone. “Who's gonna cry with me when I kiss the ice?”
Chowder pressed a kiss to his temple. “Me! And Dex and Nursey! We all love you, Bitty. You won't be crying alone.”
Bitty’s eyes burned, which he blamed on fatigue and the joint the others had passed around during the opening set. How he loved his frogs.
“Thanks, hun,” Bitty whispered. As the wailing in Lardo’s room drowned out the playful shouts, Bitty nodded towards his bedroom. “Well, time to sleep off today I think. Night, sunshine.”
Chowder beamed at him, bright and full of love. “Goodnight. Oh!” He scratched the back of his head, cheeks flushing again. “I was wondering if you wanted to do breakfast tomorrow.”
Bitty shrugged. “I usually do a post-party brunch for everyone, I'll probably do the same for this-”
Chowder shook his head. “No, I mean, would you like to go and get breakfast. With me. On a date?”
“Oh.” Bitty stared at Chowder for a moment before breaking into laughter. “Oh, yes! I'd like that. The others can fend for themselves.”
“S'wawesome!” Chowder said before leaning down and kissing Bitty again. “See you tomorrow, Bits.”
“G’night,” Bitty said and slipped into his room, dazed and grinning.
At Spring C last year, if you'd told Bitty he'd soon date Jack Zimmermann, he'd have told you you were drunk. If you'd told him that relationship would end, he'd probably still think you were drunk. If you'd told him Chowder and Farmer wouldn't get married and have an army of tall, smiley children, he'd have called you a monster for speaking such slanderous lies.
But if you'd told him that in the morning he'd be going on a date with a cute boy he'd known for a while and loved very dearly, well-
Bitty grinned into his pillow as he settled into bed. It didn't matter what he would've thought a year ago. Because now, in this moment, he was just happy.