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Jack Zimmermann was not the most self-perceptive human on the planet. But when it came to his feelings for Bittle, he desperately wanted to understand exactly how, when, and why he had gone from "resent" to "like" to "love." In fact, he'd very nearly ruined his life--a second time--because he'd failed to piece together how important Bittle was to him. And he needed to know how that had happened, so he could recognize other momentous decisions when they came flying at him.
Or: In his rookie season, Jack tries to make space in his life for the NHL, Bittle, and romance all at the same time.
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From the first practice, there had been something about Bittle that made Jack oddly protective.
"He's so small," he'd told Shitty after their second training day at Faber. "I'm sure someone's gonna snap him like a twig."
"Coach Murray saw something, though," Shitty reminded him. "So he can't be all that bad. And if he doesn't make the cut, well...nothing to worry about, is there?"
Shitty had a way of making things okay, and his nonchalance about whether the slim, swift skater from Georgia would even make the team calmed Jack considerably. If Bittle couldn't survive training, he wouldn't get hurt in the regular season. More to the point, his performance wouldn't impact Jack's team in a season when, he knew, all eyes would be back on him.
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Aside from the whole contact problem, though, Jack began to recognize another potentially damaging issue when it came to Bittle. He...liked Bittle. As a person, if not as a teammate. Off the ice, Bittle had a tenderness, a selflessness about him, that could not help but endear him. Maybe more a mascot than a winger, but...the kid's sensitivity made him observant, and his charm and effervesence, if a bit much at times, certainly improved the team's spirit. Jack found even by the end of training camp that the boys--that he--liked having Bittle around. He even went so far as to ask Coach Murray if there wasn't a role for Bittle that didn't put the kid at risk on the ice.
"Jack, I appreciate your concerns--Coach Hall, too--but the fact is, he's got great hands, and you've seen his speed."
"I know, and I grant he's got some skills. But--he's going to get checked. Sooner or later."
"And we've talked about that with him. He knows he's going to have to learn to take a hit."
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jack purposely putting on an attitude in attempt to get bitty to work harder
jack used to people trying to use him
jack suspicious of bitty until he realizes bitty is not trying to butter him up by being so nice n helpful
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"I know you know why I have to be careful, but...I want you to know I don't like it. I mean, I hate that I have to hide things. This. Us. And I know this going to sound like a cop-out, but, when Shitty came at me like that...yeah, I choked, but I wasn't lying. Not exactly. The thing is, I don't think of us as just dating. I mean, it's okay if you want to call it that, I won't mind. But to me…. Dating's...casual. This is not dating. It's more than that, eh?"
Bitty blushed. He picked up his stuffed bunny, and played with one ear absently. "Oh, you--"
"I mean it. I asked you to be my boyfriend; that's not just a label to me. It's a commitment. And I know, we haven't really talked about--about our future. But I think maybe we should. So, here goes: Bits…I want to be with you. I want you to move in with me once you're done with school. If you want to, I mean. And maybe by then we can tell the right people in the league and we won't have to...won't have to lie about it. Or at least not as much. And in the meantime, I...I want you to be able to talk to someone about us. Lardo, maybe. Or Ransom and Holster. They should know what's going on in your life."
Bittle took a breath and honest-to-jesus clutched at the collar of his costume. His jaw worked for a few seconds before he made any sound. Then suddenly he adopted the forced happiness that Jack recognized as his trademark evasion.
"Well! Jack Zimmermann, you charmer. I told you I'm fine. But I want you to focus on your season." He crossed his legs, and sat his stuffed animal in the hollow of his ankles as he fired up his usual chatterbox. "Normally you know I wouldn't bring this up, 'cause I know all those sportscasters can do a number on you, and it's better not to listen, but, well--you know...that ESPN commentator? When you came off the bench for the shootout, he was talking about the 'tremendous pressure' you must have been under, and how your coach was taking a huge risk, that you'd never be out there as a rookie if you weren't 'Bad Bob's son.' I declare, I wanted to reach through the set and slap him silly. So'd half the team."
"Everyone watching, eh?" Jack muttered.
"Honey, we called an intermission on the kegster to watch that OT. Almost killed the party buzz. Dex is talking about a new by-law for it. But my point is, you need to get through this, at least this first couple of years, and I'm not about to let either of us do anything to jeopardize that. Don't worry about me. You go on and do what you need to do. It's okay."
"Okay," Jack said, letting out a breath. "As long as you're all right with it. But...just remember. If I have to answer that kind of question again? We're not dating. We're together."
Bittle drew in a breath and let it out in a little "whoof" sound. He rocked back a bit against his pillow, in a way that Jack could tell meant he'd gotten through. "Jack Laurent Zimmerman, you do not do things by halves." -
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