Work Text:
It was only by a stroke of luck that Jack happened to look at his phone just as he exited the lecture hall. The group chat was blowing up -- the group chat was always blowing up these days -- but the lack of all-caps or exclamation marks caught his attention right away.
SMH
Eric Bittle: Guys, I wouldn’t ask this of y’all if I really didn’t need this, but I have to ask a HUGE favor of one of you.
Shitty Knight: brah are you dying
Justin Oluransi: You can have my kidney, Bits.
Adam Birkholtz: u aren’t gonna save that for me just in CASE, JUSTIN?
Larissa Duan: shit, bitty, r u ok
Eric Bittle: Um, yeah, mostly, I just…..need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.
Jack frowned. More than once he’d stepped in as a fake boyfriend for friends and acquaintances, but they were usually drunk women who needed to escape creepy guys at parties. Bittle’s texts were starting to make him nervous.
The group chat didn’t seem to feel the same way.
Adam Birkholtz: dude this isn’t a favor
Justin Oluransi: this is a MOTHERFUCKING PRIVILEGE
Shitty Knight: AN OPPORTUNITY, REALLY
Adam Birkholtz: WHERE DO YOU NEED US
Shitty Knight: YOUR LEGION OF HANDSOME BOYFRIENDS
Larissa Duan: bits why wouldn’t you just ask chowder, these knuckleheads aren’t worthy of u
Despite himself, Jack agreed. Bittle deserved someone kind and smart and funny and well-dressed and... well, maybe Ransom fit the bill, but even so. Bittle deserved the best boyfriend.
Jack didn’t realize he’d come to a full halt outside of the building until someone knocked into him from behind. His phone arched down into the grass, and the person next to him gasped.
“Oh, fuck, Jack, sorry,” Camilla huffed, bending down quickly to grab his phone. “I just wanted to surprise you, not break your shit.”
Jack snorted. “It’s fine. Look, not a scratch.” He took the phone from her hands and held it up to show. “You check pretty hard for a tennis player.”
Camilla grinned up at him. “What can I say, you boys inspire me. What’s got you so spaced out? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you even look at your phone before.”
Jack sighed and shook his head. “Oh, I think my teammate’s in a bit of trouble, I was reading through the texts. He needs someone to pretend to be his boyfriend?”
Camilla grimaced. “Ooh, yeah, there’s usually never a good reason for that. Did he sound like he was in danger?”
Jack felt his gut sink. “Um, no, I don’t think so…”
“Then he’s probably okay,” Camilla said quickly. “I mean, like, he’s probably just trying to let someone down gently and thinks this is the best way.” She bit her lip, as if she could tell just how quickly Jack was spiralling into panic. “I’ll let you get back to your texts. Let me know if there’s any way I can help?”
Jack nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Camilla,” he murmured. “See you around.”
She gave him a soft, fond smile. “See you,” she said. “And if you need date night recommendations, that new Indian cafe on Main is really good.”
“I don’t know- I’m not-” Jack frowned at her. “How did you-?”
Camilla laughed brightly. “You’re you , Jack. Of course you’re going to help him out.”
“Oh.” Jack watched as she waved and sauntered away, heart beating rapidly in his chest. He and Camilla were friends, but they weren’t close by any means. If she could tell he was going to volunteer...Jack wondered idly what Shitty might say about the whole situation.
With a sigh, Jack plopped down on the nearest bench and opened up the group chat again, scrolling back up to where he’d left off when Camilla ran into him.
Eric Bittle: Because Jason knows Chowder! And though I love him, Christopher is not the best liar.
Justin Oluransi: JASON?
Adam Birklholtz: JASON?
Adam Birkholtz: lol jinx bro
Larissa Duan: deets, bits
Eric Bittle: This guy in my calc class asked me out and I think he’s really gross so I said no but then he asked why not and he’s probably taller than Holster and is on the JV wrestling team and I panicked and said I already had a boyfriend but instead of just dropping it he got really nosy and pushy and I agreed to bring my boyfriend to a party at his place tonight.
Shitty Knight: um
Shitty Knight: so hypothetically what is this dude’s last name
Shitty Knight: and hypothetically would anyone miss him if he died
Eric Bittle: SHITTY
Adam Birkholtz: OK I have facebook pulled up
Adam Birkhotlz: stop me when i get to him
Adam Birkholtz: Jason Mu
Adam Birkholtz: Jason la Posta
Adam Birkholtz: Jason Lowell
Adam Birkholtz: Jason R. Ball
Adam Birkholtz: Jason Paul
Adam Birkholtz: no last name i guess
Adam Birkholtz: Jason Richards
Adam Birkholtz: Jason White
Eric Bittle: holster stop
Justin Oluransi: bits that was so out of line, he shouldn’t have forced you into that situation
Larissa Duan: did u kno there r kilns in the art building large enough for a human body
Eric Bittle: LARDO
Eric Bittle: guys seriously stop
Eric Bittle: i don’t like this guy, but I think he’s fresh out of the closet, too. It doesn’t excuse his behavior, but the fella clearly just doesn’t know how to handle his newfound freedom. Cut him some slack.
Shitty Knight: ok bitty but you don’t have to go to the party
Shitty Knight: he can deal with a little rejection
Eric Bittle: What I’m hearing is that no one will go with me.
Justin Oluransi: bits….
Adam Birkholtz: dude, i’m sorry, i actually do have plans already for tonight
Justin Oluransi: bitty it’s not gonna kill him if you bail
Jack frowned at the boys’ reactions and was typing before he even knew what he was doing.
Jack Zimmermann: Bittle, would it make you feel safer if you went with one of us?
Eric Bittle: yeah
Jack Zimmermann: And you’re going to go to the party regardless of what anyone says?
Eric Bittle: it would be rude not to
Jack Zimmermann: What time does it start?
This was a terrible idea.
The party was small, some collection of bland-faced Econ and Business majors Jack had never met before. None of them talked sports, for which he was grateful; at Samwell, there was always a chance someone would recognize him. Jack was almost certain this would not come back to bite him -- he wasn’t drinking, wasn’t being overly handsy with Bittle, no one was taking selfies or even pretending to have fun at this party at all. Bittle hadn’t even introduced Jack to half of their new acquaintances as anything other than his hockey captain.
But every now and then, when Jason would look across the room, Bittle would take Jack’s hand and Jack thought he was going to pass out every, single time.
This was a terrible idea.
Bittle relaxed a little somewhere after his first beer, still too tense to do much more than stand next to Jack and politely follow along with Boring Econ Dude #1’s conversation. Jack had zoned him out a while ago, and had no idea if they were talking about the stock market or Game of Thrones at this point.
Tired, bored, and really hungry, Jack placed one hand on Bittle’s hip and pressed a kiss to his hair before murmuring, “I’m gonna hit the head. Be right back.”
Bittle looked up at him with wide, stunned eyes, and it wasn’t until Jack was in the bathroom, washing his hands, that he realized what he’d done.
How could he just kiss Bittle? And it wasn’t just kissing him casually, in front of other people, but Jack had done it without thinking at all! Was he losing his mind? Was he getting sick? Had his hunger really rendered him so delirious?
Stomach churning, head spinning, Jack wandered back into the living room, feeling dazed and confused. It took him a moment to realize Bittle was no longer speaking with Boring Econ Dude #1, who had moved on to a group of well-dressed, stern-looking women. In fact, Bittle wasn’t in the living room at all.
Warning bells went off in Jack’s head, and he slipped around the edge of the room and peeked into the kitchen -- the place in any home or apartment that drew Bittle like a moth to a flame.
Jack almost shouted when he first glanced into the small room. Bittle was leaned back against the counter, Jason looming over him, the two of them talking quietly and tersely. Jason really was a big guy, built like a brick wall, and Bittle shrank away from him in the most heartbreaking manner.
But then Jason grimaced and held up his hands in a placating gesture, face twisting into something guilty and ashamed. Bittle’s look of apprehension faded, and he very tentatively reached out to pat Jason’s arm.
Though not as on edge as before, Jack still decided it was time to intervene. “Everything alright?” He asked, marching up to slip an arm around Bittle’s shoulders. Despite his earlier stiffness, Bittle practically melted into Jack’s chest; through the thin fabric of his shirt, Jack could feel Bittle shaking.
“Yeah,” Jason said, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I was just apologizing to Eric. I, uh, realized that maybe I came on a bit too strong in class today.”
Jack said nothing, just nodding and pulling Bittle a little closer. Jason paused for a moment, as if waiting for Jack to agree or reprimand him or maybe even yell. When Jack did none of those things, Jason continued.
“Yeah, it was really out of line,” he said. “My best friend, Timmy, he really let me have it after I told him. And he was right -- he’s always right…” Jason sighed. “So, really, again, I’m sorry, Eric, for being so...aggressive, I guess.”
Still shaking slightly, Bittle smiled. “Thank you, Jason. That means a lot, really.”
“Anyway, I have to say, you guys are really sweet together,” Jason said. Jack could feel Bittle stiffen again, but Jack let himself smile. “We’re always looking for people for our trivia team -- we play every Wednesday at O’Flannery’s, you’re both welcome to join us. We always need help with history questions,” he added, smiling at Jack.
“That sounds fun,” Bittle said in a non-committal tone. Jack nodded in agreement. “We should probably be headed out,” Bittle continued, yawning a little. “ Someone has an 8 a.m. lecture tomorrow.”
Jack shrugged. “It’s an interesting class.”
Bittle rolled his eyes. “Classes are only interesting if you’re awake for them, sweetheart.”
Jason laughed. “I don’t know how you do it, man. I would’ve flunked out of it by now.”
“It’s a history class,” Bittle said, as if that explained it all. At the look at Jason’s face, he added, “Jack’s very...passionate about history.”
Maybe it was the deliriousness that came from standing so close to Bittle, but Jack was almost certain he heard something else in Bittle’s voice as he said that. Insinuation, perhaps. Innuendo.
This party had been a terrible idea.
“Thank you for having us,” Bittle said. “Please, keep the rest of the mini pies, I made them just for y’all.”
“Thanks, Eric,” Jason said. “Jack, it was nice to meet you. Hope you two can join us for trivia sometime.”
“Sure thing,” Bittle said, and all but pulled Jack from the kitchen. A minute of goodbyes later, and he had them both out of the apartment and speed walking down the street.
“Bittle,” Jack said as they sped away from the party. “ Bitty, wait .” He reached out to take Bittle’s hand, halting his forward momentum.
“Sorry, was I going too fast?” Bittle asked, not quite meeting Jack’s eye. “It just got so cold out, I thought I’d have more of a beer jacket tonight, sorry-”
“Are you okay?” Jack asked. “You’re still shaking.”
Bittle looked down at his hands and, for the first time, noticed the trembling of his arms. “O-oh, yeah, I’m fine, Jack. Um…”
Wordlessly, Jack shepherded Bittle over to the curb, sitting him down. After a moment’s hesitation, Jack shed his jacket and draped it around Bittle’s shoulder, just in case any of the shaking was from the weather. Bittle inhaled deeply, eyes squeezed shut, and let out a long, ragged breath.
“I never thought…” Bittle scrubbed at his face. “I never thought I’d have to be worried about other gay guys,” he said softly. “Like, girls are afraid of straight boys, that’s a given. I’m afraid of straight boys. But he was just so big and pushy, there really was a moment where I was back in seventh grade and the football team was throwing me into that stupid closet again. And I’m so relieved Jason apologized, that I was right and he just didn’t know what he was doing, but...the next one could be different.”
Jack didn’t know what to say -- sure, he wasn’t Ransom-and-Holster-sized, but he was a big dude who played a very violent sport. Jack had never been afraid that he couldn’t win a fight. So he cautiously wrapped an arm around Bittle and pulled him in, letting him tuck his head under Jack’s chin.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” Bittle said softly. “I don’t know why I was so insistent on coming to this stupid party -- it was so boring and Jason’s not my favorite person. I guess I was afraid of what would happen if...if I didn’t. If he got mad and cornered me after class. I don’t know, it’s stupid…”
“It’s not,” Jack said. “It’s not stupid. You felt safest coming to this party with one of us, so of course I came. I’ll always have your back, Bits.”
“Thanks,” Bittle whispered. “Ugh, I’m glad that’s over with. I’ve never met a group of more boring people in my entire life, and I grew up going to church with the Whitacres -- let me tell you, those folks could talk your ear off all day ‘bout drywall, I’m not even kidding. Family business, and all that. Dull as dishwater.”
Jack laughed. “Yeah, they were pretty bad, even by my standards, and Shitty tells me I’m the ‘epitome of boring white dudes.’”
Bittle scoffed. “You are not boring , Mr. Zimmermann. Certainly not like- oh, shoot, what was his name? Michael? Matthew? The one who just kept quoting different Founding Fathers whenever that cute, redheaded girl walked past.”
“The one who was talking about Game of Thrones?” Jack asked.
Bittle laughed, smacking a hand against Jack’s chest. “Oh! No, no, he was talking about the Walking Dead.”
“Are you sure?” Jack asked, grinning. “I thought he mentioned Ned Stark at least once.”
“Tony Stark,” Bittle corrected. “No, wait, that’s Iron Man. Oh, shoot, was he talking about Game of Thrones? I was so spaced out, I think I asked him about the zombies! Are there zombies in Game of Thrones?”
“I have literally no idea,” Jack said, and they both burst into laughter.
“Oh, lord, I can never talk to any of those people again,” Bittle said with a sigh. “I can’t even remember their names. What a disaster of a day. At least I can sleep well knowing Jason probably won’t become my stalker and that you, sir, are as fine an actor as your mama.”
Jack quirked an eyebrow. “That’s quite a non sequitur.”
“Not really,” Bittle said. “You did such a good job pretending tonight -- I was such a mess, I don’t know how it would’ve gone if you’d been as awkward as me. If you get bored of hockey, you should take your mother’s career for a spin, see how it treats you.”
“Bittle…” Jack could feel his heart beginning to race again, the strange haze of having Bittle in his arms clouding his judgement. “I’m a terrible actor. I was cast as a tree in a school play once, and I was so bad at it that I was demoted to rock .”
Bittle’s hand flew to cover his mouth. “Oh, no ,” he gasped, stifling laughter. “Oh, Jack, that’s horrible.”
“No, it’s hilarious,” Jack said seriously. “But I...I wasn’t acting tonight.”
“What?” Bittle pulled back a bit, staring up at Jack incredulously. “Is this one of those ‘what is art’ debates? ‘What really constitutes acting?’ Pretending to be my boyfriend counts as acting in this situation, Mr. Zimmermann-”
“I mean it, Bittle,” Jack said, looking down at his knees. “It was all just...natural.”
Bittle was quiet for a moment. “Natural?” He finally asked, voice hesitant.
“When I kissed your head,” Jack said, grimacing a little. “I didn’t mean to do that. It just felt…”
“Right?”
Jack looked up to see Bittle staring at him, mouth parted, eyes hopeful, so he let the deliriousness of the evening take over once more and leaned down to kiss Bittle properly.
“Oh,” Bittle said, voice breaking, as Jack pulled away. “That’s...natural.”
“Like breathing,” Jack whispered.
Bitty surged up and captured his mouth again, squishing their noses together almost comically. It was awkward and unrefined, but Jack was almost certain it was the best kiss of his life.
“Do you wanna get dinner?” He asked, pressing his forehead against Bitty’s. “Camilla recommended a place today -- like, a date-type place.”
“Did she, now?” Bittle asked, smile teasing. “I’d love to, Jack.”
“Great.” Jack leaned down for another kiss, and another. “I’m glad you didn’t bring Ransom tonight.”
Bittle grinned. “You know, I’m starting to feel the same way.”
“I guess you won’t be needing that legion of handsome boyfriends anymore,” Jack said as he stood, holding out his hand to help Bittle up. Bittle took his hand and did not let go, even as he began to walk back to campus.
Bittle smiled at him, blindingly bright. “Who needs a legion when I got the best one?”