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Kent gets the call just before he’s about to sit down for a quick post-practise interview. He’s got his hand on the door, his press-face on, but because Bitty never calls during the day like this, he’s compelled to take it.
“Hey babes, you alright? Aren’t you supposed to be working on that big cake thing?”
There’s a long pause before Bitty answers, which worries Kent. “Um. I’m at home. I’m...It’s been years, Kenny. Years, and I don’t know why it’s happening now. I already called my doctor and the nurse said not to worry but made an appointment anyway but I don’t really know what to do and I’m freaking out and...”
“Babes,” Kent said in the voice he usually uses to keep Jack calm mid-panic attack, “you’re not making a lot of sense right now. I want to help. Tell me what you need me to do.” In the brief silence before Bitty answers, Kent wonders how he manages to be calm in the face of a raging fear because something is apparently so wrong with his boyfriend he had to call a doctor and...
“I got my period.”
The phrase rings out, and Kent takes a second because well--that’s new. I mean he gets the concept and from what he’s read (and in the beginning he read a lot since he’d never dated a trans guy before) they can get periods from time to time. But they’ve been together five years now and it had sort of become a vague concept.
“Okay,” he says. He’s not sure what the appropriate response is here and he wishes he was Jack because Jack could handle this shit. But Jack is in the middle of class right now teaching tenth graders about Alexander Hamilton and shit so... “What can I do?”
“I don’t have any...um.” Bitty clears his throat and his tone is so stressed and tense Kent thinks he might be on the verge of tears which makes his gut twist up because fuck he hates whenever either of his boys are hurting. “Things. Supplies.”
Kent takes a breath because that he can do. He can get things. He can get supplies. He’ll buy out an entire fucking supermarket if he has to. No big deal. “Look, babes, I have to get into this interview. Text me what you need...every single thing, okay? And I’m gonna do my best Zimms and give the most boring answers ever and they’ll boot me out and I’ll be home in less than an hour. Can you...are you okay to wait that long?”
Bitty lets out a tiny sigh. “Yeah. I...sweetheart I’m so sorry I just...”
“No. Nope. I love you, no sorries, I’m gonna be done soon I swear. Fuck I love you so much, Bits.”
“I love you too.” Bitty rings off quickly so it doesn’t drag out the way Kent tends to do over the phone, and he tucks his into his pocket before going in.
He knows he looks like shit now, all worried and anxious to get the hell out of there, and the interview is nothing short of a disaster because he keeps picturing Bitty like...suffering and forgets the questions halfway through his answer, then mid-sentence he just stands up and says, “Well that’s it for the day. Thanks.” Then he leaves.
The reporter sputters a little but he sees Marty in the hall and knows they’ll just nab him for sound bites and he’s in the clear. He might get shit later, but his phone has buzzed six times in his pocket and he just cannot make Bits wait anymore.
He gets in his car and pulls his phone out, then checks the time and mentally calculates Jack’s day. He’s gonna be in his fourth period now, which means he’ll have free time to take a call in about ten minutes, which will take Kent that long to get to the market.
He flicks through Bitty’s messages which are all short and devoid of his usual emojis which, oddly, makes Kent sadder than anything.
I need period supplies.
Something for the cramps.
They’re bad. And we’re almost out of ibuprofen.
Also maybe something for dinner because I don’t think I can cook tonight.
Also a heating pad? I think we left yours at your sister’s place last week.
I can’t find it.
Kent’s bound and determined to do whatever he needs to, but he gets to the supermarket and marches to the period aisle then freezes because holy fucking shit there are so many things and he doesn’t even know where to begin because he’s never dated a person with a uterus before Bitty and well, this had been a non issue in the past.
He checks his phone again and sees he has a minute before Jack’s class is up but he calls anyway. It rings a while, goes to voicemail, so he hits the button again and again until Jack’s harrowed voice picks up.
“Crisse, what’s the emergency.”
“You can drop the tone, Zimms, because there actually is one.”
Jack swears, and there’s the sound of something slamming then he says, “What happened? Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?”
“Well no. I mean yes. I mean Bits...”
There’s another crashing sound. “What about him?”
“Have you two...when you were dating at Samwell did Bitty ever like have a period? Because he apparently is having one now and I’m trying to get supplies and Jesus fuck, Jack there’s so much here and I feel like asking him to clarify what he needs is gonna make him feel worse and I don’t...”
“Kenny,” Jack says, and it’s weird to hear him be the soothing one in the face of panic, “it’s okay. He had a few when he was changing up his T. He’ll be alright. I know what to do.”
“Thank fucking god. Tell me everything. Please.”
In less than two minutes, Kent has a texted list of what Bitty wants. Pads. A specific brand and style that absorbs but is thin enough that Bitty won’t feel them. Jack tells Kent that it helps lessen the dysphoria that comes with the period.
Kent finds them almost immediately and gets three boxes because he really doesn’t know what’s enough and he feels like a fucking idiot. But he thinks if it’s too much at least they can donate what Bits doesn’t need to a shelter.
Jack suggests Bitty’s favourite juice, because he tends to crave it. Also a list of both chocolate and fruity sweets. Also crisps and a package of the pre-popped kettle corn.
Also the ibuprofen. Kent gets six bottles because he figures with the fact that they’ll probably use it anyway.
He stands in the aisle near the pharmacy and stares at their selection of heating pads and buys one of every kind because well...he doesn’t know what Bits might want, and what if he tries one and hates it. Bitty should have options.
Jack also suggests tea, and Kent buys that, then three novelty mugs with cats on them that look nothing like Kit but are cute anyway.
He then thinks of dinner but he’s useless at literally everything he can’t just take a wrapper off and put in the oven, so he goes for pizzas and this giant tray of lasagne that Bitty will chirp him to hell and back for, and some frozen mac and cheese and corn dogs and toaster waffles just because they kind of look good right now. Pizza pockets, and he also throws in some frozen veg because if he doesn’t do something green his life may be in danger.
He doesn’t even look at the total, just swipes his card, then drags the trolley out to his car and packs it all away in the back seat. He’s about to get in when he smells something amazing, and realises it’s the little Chinese take-away shop next door, so he runs over and they tell him he can have his order ready in ten minutes if he waits.
So he orders his favourite, then Jack’s and Bitty’s and soon enough he’s got an old, empty supply box packed full of white cartons, and he drives--well maybe a little recklessly, but he gets home in one piece. He thanks whatever god might be listening for his massive upper arm strength because he somehow manages to get all the groceries and the food in one go.
He has to do some secret jewel-thief heist manoeuvres to get the door open, but he manages it, and soon enough he’s standing in the middle of the entry way. He can see right into the living room where Jack is home--thank god because it took way longer than he thought, and Bitty curled up in Jack’s old Samwell hoodie, his head in Jack’s lap.
They both look up, and Bitty moves so Jack can help Kent with everything.
They take it all to the kitchen, and Jack begins to unpack everything, giving Kent A Look, but Kent just shrugs.
“What? Better over prepared than under, right?”
Jack sighs, and a small voice in the doorway to the kitchen says, “Oh bless your heart, what are we doing to do with seven heating pads?”
Kent blushes, but drags Bitty over to him and cups his chin, kissing him soft and sweet, and letting his anxiety melt away because he’s here now, and Bitty’s here and he can touch him and soothe him. “Sorry I took so long.”
“It’s okay,” Bitty whispers, and lets Kent hold him for a moment before his hand darts out and he takes one of the boxes of pads. “I’m gonna just...” He flicks his head toward the bathroom and Kent nods.
“Go on. I’ll get food ready. Bring out the comfy duvet, okay?”
Bitty nods and when Kent hears the door click, he turns to Jack who’s watching with a fond expression. “You know he’s gonna be okay, don’t you?”
Kent nods, still feeling a little miserable. “I don’t want him to feel any of this.”
Jack sighs and yanks Kent in, pressing a fierce kiss to his temple. “Neither do I, but he’s a strong guy and in a few days this’ll all be over.”
“I’m gonna go with him to the appointment. I’ll take a healthy scratch if I need to. I don’t want him to be alone. I mean...if he wants.”
“Ask,” Jack says as he begins to put the freezer stuff away with a small scowl at them. “But I think he’d like that.”
Bitty returns a little while later and looks relieved. He’s still in the sweater, but he’s changed into shorts, and he makes grabby hands at the bottle of juice and the kettle corn--both of which he takes back to the sofa.
Jack chuckles, then bangs a bottle of the ibuprofen across the room, and Bitty catches it impressively, setting it on the table.
Kent hurries through the rest of their chore, then all but runs and leaps onto the sofa. Bitty giggles as Kent manoeuvres Bitty between the V in his legs, and when Kent whispers, “This alright, babes?” Bitty just nods and shuffles onto his side so he can put his ear against Kent’s chest.
“Can you rub my stomach. Not like massage just...”
Kent dips his hand under the sweater and just below the waistband of the shorts, and begins a slow back and forth motion. Not a lot of pressure, just the heat from his palm, and Bitty sighs with some relief.
Jack eventually comes into the room, taking a seat near Kent’s feet and pulls one of Bitty’s ankles into his lap. “You want to watch something?”
“Just whatever’s queued on Netflix,” Bitty says, sounding sleepy. “I think the meds are working and I’m just tired now.”
Jack nods, and Kent settles back a little more so Bitty is more or less reclined, and the three of them lay silent.
Eventually Bitty wants food instead of sleep, so they eat and Kent puts on Breakfast Club for them since Bitty’s been on a John Hughes kick. When Jack’s sure Bitty’s feeling okay, he excuses himself to finish up marking with kisses all around, and a promise to come back the second he’s done.
Kent hasn’t really stopped holding Bitty, who then turns up to look at his boyfriend’s face. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
Kent blinks. “Um. Like laying here?”
Bitty nods, and Kent laughs.
“Babe, if I could just like get paid my salary to lay here and hold you all day every day, I’d do it. This is the fucking best. I just wish you weren’t feeling shitty.”
Bitty sighs. “Thanks for you know. Not getting weirded out.”
Kent lifts a brow. “Okay one, I love you so you could like wear nothing but your puck bunny costume for the rest of your life, and I wouldn’t think it was weird. But...I mean I understand what you’re saying, and all I can really do is assure you that it’s alright and I love you.”
Bitty sighs and rubs his cheek against Kent’s chest. “It never feels good. Ugly reminders of you know...that my body isn’t exactly what I want it to be. I mean...I have options...”
“Options?” Kent repeats.
“Hysterectomy,” Bitty says. “But a lot of the people in my family who had them had complications afterward, and I just wanted to be a little older first. The T worked so well. I mean, I haven’t had a period since Samwell.”
Kent drags his fingers into Bitty’s hair and massages his scalp, making Bitty smile. “Well hey, you have the appointment with the doctor and I’ll totally go with you if you want.”
“Oh hun, you don’t need to miss a day for me.”
“Yeah but like...what if I did? What if we got froyo after? Or that Greek place you like uptown? I don’t even have to go in with you if you don’t want. But we can have a date. We haven’t done that in forever and I’m owed a healthy scratch.”
Bitty smiles softly and holds Kent a litlte tighter. “Yeah, okay.”
Kent grins. “Okay.” There’s a small pause, then he says, “Is there anything else I can do? I mean, did I get everything you needed?”
Bitty laughs and rolls his eyes. “Sweetheart, I don’t think we’re gonna use half that stuff. And don’t think for a second I’m gonna let you eat all that frozen junk you bought. It’s getting donated the moment my insides aren’t trying to claw their way out of my body like a damn gremlin fed after midnight.”
Kent snorts at Bitty’s strange mixture of southern metaphor with 80s pop culture and kisses him because damn it, he just can’t help it. “Yeah yeah, fine. Claude will thank you.”
“Mm, oh I’m sure,” Bitty chirps softly. Then he yawns and snuggles in. “Can I take a nap now?”
“You can do anything you want,” Kent says.
“Even...climb Everest?” Bitty mutters as he drifts toward sleep.
“Yep,” Kent says, letting his fingers play up and down Bitty’s spine.
“Even go...to the moon?” Bitty murmurs.
“Mmhmm. Start a moon colony if you want.”
“Mm.” Bitty pushes his face into Kent’s abdomen and breathes in. “Evennnn...go down Niagra Falls in a barrel?”
“Even that,” Kent says, quieter now because Bitty’s slipping.
“Even...” Bitty breathes out. “Even. Be... a cat?”
“Yep, yeah babe. Even that,” Kent says.
Bitty’s asleep in minutes and Kent lets himself be overwhelmed with how goddamn fucking much he loves his life and how an asshole like him shouldn’t be this lucky--and yet here he is.
He feels it doubly when Jack returns and sets himself on the floor, stretching his leg in front of him which looks a little swollen, but Kent realises it’s just his brace under the joggers.
“You alright? I got enough crap to pamper you too,” Kent says.
Jack chuckles and leans his head back against Kent’s arm, turning his face to press several kisses where he can reach. “No, chéri. I’m alright. What about you? You sounded a little panicked earlier.”
“Just out of my element,” Kent confesses honestly. “I just don’t want to fuck any of this up.”
“You haven’t. He loves you. I love you.”
“I’m lucky,” Kent whispers very softly, holding Bitty even tighter.
Jack kisses him again. “We all are.” He flicks another movie on, and stretches his arm along the cushions, tangling his fingers with Kent, which are pressed against Bitty’s side, and the warmth between them is a lot, but in a way it’s just perfect.
Kent looks down at them both, at Bitty’s face soft in sleep, at Jack’s profile which looks easy and calm as the movie starts, and he realises that yeah, maybe they all are pretty lucky. It’s not exactly what he imagined, but...it’s definitely enough.
He squeezes Bitty tight just once, and closes his eyes.