#bittykent

The door to the kitchen of the coffee shop slammed open and Bitty turned his head to see his boyfriend plastering his back against the door. Most of Kent’s face was blank, but there was a look of utter panic in his eyes that nearly made Bitty abandon the puffed pastry he was working on. Kent opened his mouth before Bitty could ask what was wrong.

“We can’t work here anymore.”

Bitty blinked, because that made absolutely no sense. “What are you talking about sweetpea, you love it here.”

Finishing up, Bitty folded the pastry before moving to put it back in the refrigerator, which incidentally brought him closer to Kent. The other boy had pushed himself off the door and was now pacing agitatedly in Bitty’s kitchen. “Okay, you can still work here. And so can I, I guess, but I can’t go back to the front.”

Bitty chanced a look at the front through the small round windows in the double doors that led to the kitchen, but there didn’t seem to be anything special going on. Certainly nothing that would warrant this reaction from Kent at least.

"The guy,” Kent said helpfully, though he still didn’t move from his prostrated position on the ground. “With a square jaw and stupidly blue eyes and that perfect fucking hair and-" 

Kent stopped himself with a groan, but Bitty felt like it wasn't because he had run out of material to talk about. The description was perfect though, because wow, the guy near the corner did have a perfect jaw, and hair that looked soft, and when he raised his head Bitty ducked under the windows too because those piercing blue eyes sure were something.

"So it's not just me, is it?"

Kent's commiserating voice let Bitty breathe properly again as he realised that his heart was beating far too fast for no discernable reason. "Does he always look at you like-"

Bitty couldn't find the words to express the feeling, but Kent and him were on the same wavelength  as usual. "Like you're the sole focus of his attention, yeah."

And this time, Bitty realised that something was wrong, because Kent usually never sounded despondent when they were both noticing a boy like that. He stood up and moved closer to his boyfriend. 

"Okay, what did he do?" Bitty asked in all seriousness. He pulled Kent into his arms and the other boy moved easily enough. The tension in Ken's sturdy frame seemed to lessen as Bitty breathed with him, and he eventually answered the hug.

"We... used to date, Kent said eventually. And it hadn’t ended well judging by the way Kent was still refusing to look Bitty in the eyes.

Bitty chased every good thought he'd had about the man's attractiveness out of his mind. "Want me to kick him out?" he asked, though he wasn't expecting a positive answer. After all, Kent knew how much Bitty abhorred confrontation, and kicking that guy out without due cause would certainly count as such. As he’d expected, Kent shook his head in refusal.

They stayed like that for a few more moments, and it thankfully seemed like the ex wasn’t planning on staying in the coffee shop for long. The next time Bitty looked through the windows, Kent’s ex was gone, much to both their relief. 

-------------

Unfortunately, it seemed like the appearance of Kent’s ex wasn’t a coincidence the first time, but was instead the beginning of a new habit. Bitty usually wouldn’t mind, except that this was Kent’s ex and Bitty was thus contractually obligated to hate him on principle. This also wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for the café’s dreadful lack of clientele at 7 in the morning, which coupled with Bitty’s southern upbringing, forced him to make small talk with the man under pain of disappointing his mental mama Bittle. Actually talking to the guy emphatically did not improve things however.

“All of this would be so much easier if he was actually rude,” Bitty eventually complained to Chowder, who had the misfortune of being the only person in the vicinity other than Kent once the ex left.

“But he isn’t?” Chowder asked, but Bitty was too busy moping over how terrible of a boyfriend he was being to try and process what undercurrent of emotion the other boy had added in his tone.

“But he isn’t.” In fact, Kent’s ex – and Bitty was determined not to call him Jack despite having been given explicit permission to do so by the man himself – had been nothing but polite to Bitty, and even tipped generously, the bastard! How was Bitty supposed to hold on to his dislike in such a case?

“Talking to Kent might work?” Chowder’s reply had Bitty realizing that he must have said part of his inner monologue out loud and he flushed. Chowder waved away his attempts at apologies and simply continued. “That’s his ex, right? If they broke up, Kent must have tons of reasons as to why it didn’t work, and they might help you like him less.”

“Chowder, you are a genius!” Elated, Bitty engulfed the younger boy into a hug, nearly choking him with the force of his embrace.

-------------

Kent looked up as the doors to the apartment he shared with his boyfriend opened. He would usually have waited for Bitty to be done so that they could leave the coffee shop together, but he’d had an appointment with his endocrinologist that afternoon and had to leave earlier. Bitty crossed the threshold, arms laden with groceries and looking slightly dumbfounded. Kent chuckled and moved to help him.

“You look like you’ve discovered the answers to the universe, what gives?”

If Kent hadn’t been looking at his boyfriend, he might have missed the way his expression faltered slightly before coming back to normal. As it was, he had nothing to distract him from Bitty’s face and he didn’t much like what he saw.

It seemed like Bitty had learned that there wasn’t much he could do to keep Kent from finding out what he was feeling, for he relented. He greeted Kent with a kiss and crossed the room to put down the groceries in the kitchen.  “It’s about your ex.”

Kent grimaced even as he tried to ignore the pang in his chest that resurfaced every time he thought about Jack. It had been years already – 3 years and 7 months, not that Kent was counting – and yet his reaction still hadn’t abated.

He knew Bitty wouldn't push, especially not if Kent insisted, but maybe it was time to face his problems instead of spending another two weeks hiding in the kitchen like his life depended on it every time he caught a glimpse of Jack. "Shoot," he sighed, though he put on a cocky smirk to put his boyfriend at ease.

Bitty didn't seem impressed, but he still continued. He seemed to hesitate over his words, strangely enough. Kent briefly wondered how terrible the question he was going to ask had to be to cause this reaction. "I need you to give me all the reasons you can think of to hate him," Bitty said in a rush, as though the words were fighting to come out of his mouth.

"You... what?"

Kent's nonplussed answer must have opened a dam, because Bitty transformed under his widening eyes. The other boy spoke too fast, moving his arms so much as he ranted that the sleeves of his shirt slid down to reveal the strap of his binder. Kent managed to catch something about Jack, and nice, and too much hockey, and tips, and polite maybe? By the time the rant was over, he did have a very good idea about what the problem was, and grimaced slightly as he considered his answer.

"Yeah, Itsy?" Bitty turned, facing Kent again, and he opened his mouth. "Yeah, he's not-  I can't really help you with that." Kent admitted wistfully. "We didn't break up because he was terrible or anything, it was..."

He raised his hand to make some kind of gesture, to try to illustrate his feelings, but eventually let it fall down after it having hovered in the air. What was there to say? That they’d broken up because they were both in terrible states, which in turn made them terrible for each other? He sighed, before leaning against Bitty’s shoulder, who’d approached to stand at his side. Reaching out for his boyfriend’s hand, Kent looked at their entangled fingers and tried to voice his thoughts. 

“He hated himself and closed himself off, I hated myself and lashed out, it built up along with other factors until…” Kent interrupted himself, not wanting to be the one to tell Bitty about Jack’s overdose. It wasn’t his place after all, and Bitty really didn’t have to know.  “Something happened,” he continued instead. He shrugged. Turned his head to look Bitty in the eye. “We never officially broke up, I guess, but we never saw each other again and eventually moved away.”

Kent had thought he’d gotten over the whole train of events, but even years later there was still an ache in his chest when he thought about Jack. That, and he had to admit that his inability to face Jack didn’t solely come from the awkwardness of facing an ex.

“Nonono, Kent!” Bitty was pleading in that way that let Kent know he was being a drama queen rather than genuinely distressed. He even swooned toward Kent, and Kent couldn’t help the small laughter that escaped him at the sight. It was far too obvious that he was trying to dispel the tension, but Kent still felt grateful for it, ridiculous as his boyfriend was being. It was working after all. 

“You were supposed to help me hate your ex, not make me feel sad for the both of you” Bitty protested, though he was also smiling slightly now that the tension had been released.

Kent shook his head fondly and lowered his face to Bitty’s hair, breathing in his familiar scent. “Sorry Bitsy, he’s just that great.”

The tranquil atmosphere couldn’t last for that long though, not when Kent knew he’d let too much of his feelings show with the way he spoke.

“You still love him,” Bitty said eventually, and Kent flinched as he realised that it wasn’t a question. And he couldn’t in all honesty deny the statement.

“I love you,” he said instead. Even to his ears the words sounded like an exrather than honest, even if he meant every single one of them. 

Still, Bitty didn’t push him away. He didn’t even let go of the reassuring hold he had on Kent’s shoulder. Instead, he kept holding Kent close and used his free hand to guide Kent’s chin until they were locking gazes together again. 

“I never doubted that for a second, Kent,” Bitty said, and the words were fierce in a way that made Kent’s eyes mist over a little. “And I love you too, no matter what your feelings towards Jack may be.”

Kent couldn’t keep looking Bitty in the eyes like this. Not when he felt like his heart had grown three sizes and he had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling. Not when the weight and guilt he’d unconsciously felt piling on his shoulder seemed to have lightened with his boyfriend’s tacit approval and unconditional love. Not when he knew Bitty would support his decision no matter what it would be. 

Sniffling a little, Kent engulfed Bitty into a hug and hid his face into his boyfriend’s neck, relishing in the soothing motion a steady hand on his back. 

“You should talk to him,” Bitty whispered near his ear. Kent couldn’t see his face, but his voice was tremulous, like he was holding back tears too. “There’s enough place in your heart for more than just little me, and you could see where you want to go from there, alright?”

This time, it was Kent’s turn to pull back a little until he could press his forehead on Bitty’s own. “You’ve never been “just” anything to me,” he whispered hoarsely against Bitty’s lips. He closed the distance between their mouths to press them together gently for a few moments. “And if there’s a future out there that doesn’t include you I don’t want it. 

“Kent Parson!” Bitty exclaimed with a tearful burst of laughter. “You are not allowed to make me cry in my own goddamn apartment!”

-------------

It took a while for Kent to put Bitty’s advice into action. Bitty didn’t even push, even when Kent kept conveniently finding tasks to do in the kitchen where he could remain out of view of the customers. Jack must have seen him at least once by this point, unless he had truly become more oblivious to the way he affected people with time. It had to come to a breaking point eventually though.

“Okay, this can’t go on like this I’m going out.”

“Kent, are you-”

But Kent didn’t let Bitty finish his sentence before he’d headed off towards the table that had become Jack’s usual since his first visit to the café. Jack didn’t look up as Kent approached, nose buried in what was probably a history book, knowing him. He did raise his head however when Kent stopped near his table and didn’t move.

“Hey.” The word left his mouth like a prayer and a curse all at once. It was also like exhaling a sigh of relief, and Kent felt all the better for it even as he felt his senses narrow until everything outside of Jack and himself felt dulled.

Kent had been very careful about not stalking Jack on the various kind of social networks available to him, and maybe this was why he was so taken aback by the intensity of those blue eyes. Jack’s eyes looked Kent over with a clinical gaze for a few moments, and Kent felt ice begin to cover him as he pondered the possibility that Jack might have forgotten him entirely. After all, it had been years since they’d seen each other, he’d gotten on hormones since he’d broken up with Jack and though he wasn’t unrecognizable there were still some sizeable changes there. What if Jack had never tried contacting Kent because he truly didn’t care? This entire thing was a terrible idea, Kent should have remained in the kitchen after all.

After what seemed like too long, Jack finally opened his mouth, recognition replacing the confusion in that cold gaze. “Kenny?” said Jack, looking him up and down, and Kent felt the full weight of that stare on him. He didn’t answer verbally – couldn’t get his voice to work suddenly – but his expression must have talked enough for him because Jack suddenly looked both relieved and deeply uncomfortable. They stared at each other in silence, neither of them willing to break it.

“You, euh, you have thighs,” Jack eventually said.

Kent just. Stared. Well no, that wasn’t exactly what he did. He looked at his thighs first and noticed that yes, he did in fact have them, but then he let his gaze climb back up and stared at Jack. To be fair, the other man seemed as confused as Kent about the words that came out of his own mouth, so Kent decided to give him some leeway. Before he could speak, Jack hastened to correct himself.

“Not that you didn’t before, it’s just-” Jack gestured vaguely in the direction of Kent’s legs, and Kent couldn’t believe he still felt some sort of fondness for that awkward mess of a boy. “They got bigger since we-”

“Yeah,” Kent interrupted before Jack could mention their failed attempt at a relationship. “Um, I took up hockey again? And I work out too so…”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, and Kent couldn’t take it anymore. He broke their staredown and turned on his feet, speed walking out of there as fast as he could. 

Bitty was hands deep in a new batch of what looked like croissants when Kent opened the door, so Kent hovered at his side and waited for him to finish before he spoke. “Okay, we need to move on to plan B.”

“Plan B, what plan B?” Bitty asked confusedly. Then his face split up in a delighted smile. “Oh, you talked to Jack! How did it go?”

Kent waved his concerns away. “We talked, but now we need plan B,” Kent repeated, and he couldn’t believe Bitty hadn’t understood him the first time. “Which is the one where you talk to him in my place, because I can’t focus when his face is just… Right there!”

Kent arrived home after working at the rink. He had a smile on his face as he unlocked the door, excited to just sit and watch a movie with Eric. Their schedules hadn’t lined up the last few days and they kept only seeing each other as they got ready for bed. 

Today was also the first day in a long time that Kent’s knee wasn’t acting up. It hurt from time to time, sometimes more than others. Some private ice time when his knee was feeling good last week was fun, but in hindsight, he realized it probably wasn’t worth it if his knee gave out on him a few days later. 

For Kent, thinking about his knee and how he injured it was annoying at best and traumatic at worst. But it was also good in a twisted way. If he hadn't injured his knee, he wouldn’t be coaching. And he wouldn’t have met Eric.  

An injury at the end of his rookie year (at least he got a Cup out of his short-lived career, if he could call it that) took him out of the NHL for good. Retirement the way no one wanted to retire. He didn’t even reach his prime. From number one draft pick to the rookie who busted his knee so bad he couldn’t play in the big league anymore. 

Which was how Kent ended up in a different city assistant coaching a women’s hockey team. It was also how he met Eric. 

Eric was a men’s singles figure skater who trained at the same ice rink complex as the women’s hockey team. They met by pure chance almost colliding in the doorway of the men’s locker room one day when Kent was running early and Eric was running late, which somehow made their schedules overlap. 

It was by no means love at first sight, but there was some lust. Kent couldn’t help but stare at the attractive skater in his tight fitting workout gear, a slight flush already on his face from changing so quickly. 

“I’m sorry, hun. I wasn’t watchin’ where I was going. I’m just running late and Katya’s gonna kill me.” He patted Kent’s shoulder as he walked past. “Sorry again, I gotta get to practice.” He said as he turned to walk down the corridor, skate guards clomping on the floor as he went. 

Kent shook himself out of his silence, “It’s okay…” only to trail off since the guy was already halfway down the corridor. 

Kent would spend the rest of the day—and subsequent week—thinking about the blond figure skater with the sweet Southern accent. Until, as fate would have it, they ran into each other again. And this time neither of them were running late and there were no near collisions. And most importantly Kent now knew the blond skater’s name. Eric.  

-------------------

After running into each other the second time, it became a thing. Kent’s schedule hadn’t changed, so he figured maybe Eric’s had. This time they saw each other in the locker room when they were both heading out. Kent had just finished changing his clothes as Eric walked by, skate bag in hand. 

Before Kent realized he made a decision, he called out before Eric left the locker room. “Hey, Eric! Wait up?” 

Eric stopped in his tracks. He looked hesitant, but curious as he turned to face Kent. Kent who was shoving his feet into his shoes and nearly tripped over the bench as he made his way over to Eric, who was trying to stifle a laugh behind his hand. Kent didn’t remember being this clumsy, but at least someone found it amusing.

“Ha ha, laugh at the guy who almost brained himself on his locker.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bitty said with a giggle. 

Kent just scoffed before putting on his charming smile. “I guess I can put up with my newfound clumsiness if it means I get to see you laugh.” 

“Well, Mr. Parson, that was not smooth, but I appreciate the confidence.” 

“In that case, I’m going to confidently ask you to get coffee with me?” 

“Really?” 

“Yup. So what do you say? You, me, coffee? You can laugh at me if I walk into a door.” 

“Sounds like a plan.”

-------------------

Years of training away from home made Eric appreciate the people in his life, his found family. And while his parents supported him, they never fully understood him. Sure he and his mama were close as was possible with him training in a different state halfway across the country, but that didn’t mean his parents really knew about his life. They knew he was gay and still supported him and wanted him to succeed, but they didn’t understand why he couldn’t stay in Georgia to do it.

But moving away from Georgia to continue skating was one of the best things Eric did. He had his coach Katya, Larissa and the girls who Katya also coached, Ransom and Holster who lived nearby and befriended him when they all met while skating at a public rink, Jack and Tater who played NHL hockey, and Kent. He had Kent. 

Kent who Eric met two years ago at the rink. Kent who became Eric’s best friend—don’t let Larissa hear him say that—and then something more. 

------------------

Kent was having a good day. Practice was going great, the team really had a shot at winning their next game in a couple days, and he was having a great lunch with some of the women on the team he was friends with (he was technically one of their coaches, but he was also in the same age range as a majority of them). 

Which of course was when he felt his phone buzz with a text, followed by what seemed like a couple more. He smiled as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, figuring Eric was sneaking texts during practice. He was affectionately chirped to oblivion for the sappy smile on his face as he unlocked his phone.    

The laughing and chirping stopped on a dime as the smile fell off of his face, a furrowed brow and concerned frown taking its place. 

“Dude, what’s going on?” March asked.  

“Um, it’s Eric, I mean not actually him, Larissa sent me a text from his phone, and Katya texted me too. I have to go.” He stood up so quickly that his chair tipped over. 

“Kent, go, we’ve got it,” said Caitlin as she stood up to pick up Kent’s chair, “I hope Eric’s okay. Let us know what’s going on and give us an update when you can.” 

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?” 

“Yeah, thanks. I’m gonna…” he pointed to the door. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and grabbed his bag. 

He ordered a Lyft and leaned against the window of the cafe while he waited. It said it should be there in three minutes, but by the time it arrived it felt like it had been thirty. 

Once the car arrived he opened the door, maybe a little more aggressively than was necessary, “Sorry,” he apologized to the driver, “just in a bit of a hurry.” 

“No worries,” the driver assured him. 

“Thanks,” Kent replied slightly short of breath. Once they were on the road, Kent finally read through all the texts more carefully. Eric got injured in practice. It was serious enough to warrant a trip to the hospital. He hit his head on the ice when he fell on the landing of his triple loop. That’s what the text from Larissa said. She wasn’t sure what caused Eric to flub the jump. 

The text from Katya, who usually hated texting, was more informative. Apparently Eric’s ankle had been bothering him a bit, but it was just sore not sprained or anything. So he was only supposed to work on his jumps a few times so he could take it easy for the rest of the day. But he must have put too much strain on it. 

Kent could feel his breathing getting more and more labored. He was pretty sure he was on the verge of a panic attack. He didn’t get them often, and he was more used to being on the other side of them—when someone else was having one—but he could feel his mind spiraling a bit. 

He didn’t want Eric to go through what he did, to have a major injury that cut his career short. Rationally, Kent knew that Eric probably didn’t experience a career-ending injury, but his brain kept showing him worst case scenarios. 

Kent anxiously tapped his fingers on his knee as he tried to slow his breathing. He was mostly worried because Eric got hurt, but also freaking out because the situation kept making him cycle back to thinking about his own injury and how he didn’t get to live out his dream. He didn’t want that for Eric.

Kent pulled himself out of his anxiety spiral enough to fumble his phone in his hands and send a quick text to Jack. It was a moment where Kent was immensely grateful that he and Jack were friends despite a bit of a falling out after Jack’s overdose several years ago that meant being anything more than close friends again was out of the question. Kent was okay with that though, he and Jack worked much better as friends than boyfriends anyway. 

He expected a text back, but his phone rang only a few seconds later. He heard Jack’s voice coming through the phone. “Hey, Kenny. How are you doing?” 

“Uh, I’m okay,” he paused, “No, that’s a lie. I’m not, not okay. My figure skater boyfriend is in the hospital and I’m having a panic attack in the back of a Lyft,” He laughed, self-deprecatingly. 

“Take a deep breath, Kenny. You’re on the way to the hospital, you’ll see him soon. Just listen to my voice, I’ll stay on the phone until you get there.”

Kent tried to get his breathing under control as he listened to Jack’s soft voice. He sighed as his mind stopped racing and he was on the verge of breathing normally again.

“Thanks, Jack.” 

“Anytime, Kenny. I hope Eric feels better soon.” 

--------------

Eric couldn’t believe he fell, and on his triple loop. It should have been fine. His ankle had only been a little sore, the trainer at the rink said it would be fine for him to do a few practice runs of his jumps and take it easy. Katya agreed. Now he was sitting in a hospital bed with a fractured ankle and a pretty bad concussion. 

Katya went out into the hall to call Eric’s parents so they would know what was going on. Eric was glad he didn’t have to do that himself, but he would make sure to call his Mama later so she wouldn’t worry too much.  

Aside from that, all Eric could think was ‘Where’s Kent?’ He knew Katya and Larissa texted him, not that he was allowed to look at his phone anyway to know for sure. And even unsupervised he couldn’t check since his phone was currently in the pocket of Katya’s coat because she knew him too well. 

Just as Eric sagged back against the pillows, eyes closing as he sighed, the door was pushed open and Kent walked in. He looked a little frazzled and his hair was an absolute riot, but he smiled when Eric caught his eye. 

“Hey,” Kent said, voice rough, waving as he walked closer to Eric, throwing his bag vaguely in the direction of the chair near the bed. He stepped closer and grabbed Eric’s hand. 

“Hi, sweetheart, I was hoping someone called you.” 

“Of course they did. I’m here now. How are you? I mean I’m sure you’re feeling pretty shitty. But… you’re okay?” 

Eric managed to smile up at him even though his head was feeling a little fuzzy, “I’m okay, ‘specially now that you’re here.” 

Kent huffed out a half-laugh and then sat on the edge of Eric’s bed, putting an arm around his shoulders. Eric leaned into the embrace and instantly burst into tears. His emotions finally catching up to him now that he felt safe in Kent’s arms.  

He thought about how hard he had been training and how excited he was for this year’s short-program after tweaking it a bit, only to be disappointed he wouldn’t get to perform it in competition again. He had such a shot at placing at Nationals and then Worlds, and now thanks to one bad landing he was out. 

He was out for the year. His ankle wasn’t the worry, but the concussion was. There was no way he would be healed in time to skate at Nationals, dang head injury. And no Nationals meant no Worlds, he’d have to wait until next year. At least he would have another chance next year. It was a sobering thought, and while he wasn’t done being sad about the missed opportunity, he was lucky that he would get another shot. 

His full-fledged crying lasted a few minutes more until it devolved to sniffling into Kent’s neck and Eric was able to catch his breath. “I’m sorry for crying on you, honey.” 

“Hey, no, it’s okay. Cry as much as you need. I know how much it helps.” 

“Guess there’s always next year,” Eric responded with a half-smile, his eyes still watery as he gripped Kent tighter. Kent lightly kissed him on the forehead and hugged him back just as tightly. 

It wasn’t much, but it had Eric finally feeling a little better after his disaster of a day. 

--------------

When they got to their apartment, Kent opened the door so that he could help Eric inside since crutches weren’t the best idea while he also had a concussion throwing off his balance. 

Half of the hockey team (March, Caitlin, April and co.) stopped by in the following days. Most of them were friends, not only with Kent, but Eric too. 

It had been a week since Eric got injured, and Kent was taking care of him while he recovered. He made them dinner and even assisted Eric in the kitchen so he could make a pie. Kent tried to do all of the chores so he didn’t have to worry about Eric getting dizzy or needing to hobble around with his still healing ankle. But Eric insisted that he could still do things and he really didn’t want to sit on the couch 24/7 until he healed. 

Eric made sure to wrestle the laundry basket out of Kent’s arms so that he wouldn’t just start folding the clothes after he washed them. Their deal was one washes and the other folds. 

Eric also kept up with some yoga. “Honey, I still need to stay in shape. And yoga means I can do the poses that don’t involve putting weight on my left leg. Plus I’m already close to the ground, so quit worrying about me falling.”  

“Sorry, sorry. I should have known I was smothering you.” 

“Mothering maybe, but not smothering. I love how much you care ‘bout me.” 

“Yeah?” Kent asked with hope in his eyes. 

“Mmhmm, of course. Thank you for taking care of me. But shouldn’t you be at the rink? The team needs you. I know that they have a game coming up.” 

“I’m just an assistant coach, they can make do without me.” 

“Kent Parson, stop undervaluing yourself. You are an asset to that team, and we all know it.” 

Kent blushed in response to Eric’s forceful reassurance of his worth. 

“I guess. But yeah, I probably should be at the rink. I got enough angry texts that I’m choosing to ignore.” 

“Kenny, please go to the rink. We can make dinner and listen to some podcasts when you get back later.” 

“Well you didn’t suggest watching something, so at least you remember you’re still on limited screen time.” 

“As if you’d let me forget,” Eric grumbled, his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

-------------------

One Year Later 

As the music faded out, Eric glided across the ice towards the edge of the rink, stopping with a flourish before leaning his arms atop the boards. “How was that!?” He excitedly asked Kent who was standing on the other side.

“Amazing! You hardly wobbled on your quad and the landing on your triple axel was perfect.”  

“Thanks for staying late to watch me run through this, honey,” Eric said and leaned further over the boards to wrap his arms around Kent.  

Kent laughed, bracing himself as he wrapped his arms around Eric as well. “Of course, I love watching you skate. And with just the two of us here, it feels like you’re skating just for me,” Kent said, his breath tickling Eric’s ear. 

“Mr. Parson, you really know how to charm a boy.” 

“It’s a gift,” Kent smirked. 

“Sure,” Eric said with a smirk of his own. “I’m just so excited for Nationals next week. I can’t wait to skate this routine.” 

“You’re gonna be great, babe.” 

“Thanks, honey. Now what do you say we stop and pick up take-out on our way home?” 

“I think it’s the least you can do since you kept us at the rink for hours,” Kent replied jokingly, shaking Eric who was still in his arms, despite the awkwardness of the boards between them. 

“Ha ha,” Eric said deadpan. 

“Whatever, I’ll grab our stuff, you change out of your skates,” Kent said as he let go of Eric and they met at the rink door.  

“Meet at the door near the side parking lot?” Eric questioned. 

“Yup, five minutes.” 

“I bet I’ll beat you there.” 

“Oh, it’s a race now?” Kent asked, eyebrows raised. 

The rest of his pod would say he didn’t have a single scale of self-preservation in his body. Kent just felt that he had an overabundance of curiosity. They weren’t supposed to go to the surface, particularly near land. But, he was curious. And they were near enough to a small inlet that it wouldn’t be too risky. When Kent breached the surface, he was a mere 50 feet from a wooden structure jutting out into the water. Sitting with his knees tucked to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs was a land boy that must have been a couple of years younger than Kent - assuming that humans aged at the same rate as merpeople.

Kent drifted closer, just barely keeping his eyes above the water. He watched as the boy idly tossed pebbles into the water and stared down at the dark surface. His large brown eyes were red-rimmed and he dragged his forearm across his face, smearing the water dripping down his cheeks. 

Just as Kent got up the courage to open his mouth, a large man came down the hill and out to the boy. “Come to supper, Junior. The rest of the family is waiting on you.”

The boy stood up and nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”

That was the last time Kent saw the boy that year.

* * *

Kent gave up going to the surface to see the boy after 3 months. It was dangerous and his friends in the pod were starting to get suspicious. He had to dodge Jack and Alexei more than once when he went scouting. The other boys were deeply concerned with his afternoon vanishing stunts. 

He wasn’t sure if the land boy that looked so sad would ever come back, but something in his heart hoped he did. And he hoped that the boy looked less sad the next time he saw him. If he ever did.

Finally, a year after first going to the surface and spying on the land people, Kent decided to try again. He had no idea if he would see the boy, Junior, or not. But something deep in his bones drew him back to the surface. Jack and Alexei had stopped watching him like sharks and had relaxed over the intervening months. So, it wasn’t a challenge to sneak off while the other young merpeople were learning about deep ocean currents.

Kent let his eyes barely break the surface, and there, sitting on the edge of the pier was the mysterious boy from last year. He looked sad again, idly tossing pebbles into the ocean, knees tucked up under his chin as he sat curled up into himself. Kent was rarely thankful for his black and silver tail. But, it came in handy when he needed to hide in the shadows.

He swam as close as he dared and watched as the boy mumbled something to himself. It took all of his willpower not to break the surface so close to land and try to listen to what the boy was saying. He knew what he was doing was already dangerous. So, he watched in silence beneath the waves.

That summer, he came back to the pier every day for a week. And finally, the day came when the boy and his family were gone. Kent didn’t go back again that year. But, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away forever. Something about the sad boy drew him in. It was like a missing piece of his soul was calling out, begging to be put back together.

* * *

The years passed and Kent made sure to go back every summer and watch the boy grow up. Some summers, he was happy and played with his family, particularly the younger ones. But, there came a time when the smiles became less frequent and the tears more common. It took everything in Kent’s body to not go to the other boy when he was crying by the ocean. Each year, he came back sadder and sadder, tossing stones into the ocean waves and watching them disappear.

Kent tried to explain the situation to Jack. But, Jack was a pragmatist. And he refused to break the pod’s rules about land people.

“Kenny, how many times have I told you that one of these days you are going to get caught going there. Either by the land people or by the pod. It’s dangerous.”

“You haven’t seen how sad he is. He keeps looking out to the ocean like he would do anything to jump in and just keep swimming.”

“Kenny, it’s not your problem. I know you have gotten attached, but land people cannot be trusted. You need to stop going there and torturing yourself over a land boy that you can never even speak to.”

Kent knew that Jack was being sensible. It was the answer he was supposed to take. But, he couldn’t abandon the boy on the pier. His heart ached every time he cried. And, really, how bad would it be if one land person knew that merpeople were real? After all, it didn’t appear that he had anyone to actually talk to.

He knew he was being ridiculous, but he had to at least try to speak to the boy.

Kent waited in the shallows just below the pier. He made sure to get there while the water was still dark before the sun fully rose over the horizon. He knew he would have several hours to wait before the mysterious, sad land boy would make his way down to the water.  He just had to be patient. It wasn’t really his strong suit, but he was determined to finally have some answers to his questions that had only multiplied in the years that he spent watching from afar.

He lurked for hours under the wooden pier. Finally. Finally, the boy appeared. But, he wasn’t a boy anymore. Then again, Kent wasn’t a boy anymore either. Years had passed and somehow Kent never noticed them until he was faced with them up close. He listened to the young man as he whispered his sorrows to the ocean.

He didn’t really understand why the problems were problems. But it seemed that the young man couldn’t be himself around his family. Kent knew that he had to do something before he ran out of time tonight if he was ever going to stop this aching in his chest.

He screwed up his courage and let himself drift just out from under the pier. “I don’t understand why you are so sad, but maybe it would help if you had someone to talk to?”

In retrospect, Kent figured a random voice coming from the water would scare any sensible land person, but he wasn’t expecting the young man to flail back away from the edge and vanish out of sight further back on the pier. “Crap. I’m not going to hurt you. I just - I was worried?”

Eventually, two large brown eyes peered over the edge back at him. “Who - how? What on Earth?”

“I’m Kent. But, you can call me Kenny if you like. I’ve been listening to you and I have to admit that I don’t really understand why you are so sad, but sometimes talking to someone else can help? I usually tell all my problems to my friends and they do a really good job of telling me to make good decisions.”

“Does it work?”

Kent smiled. “Nope. Not at all. I shouldn’t be here, but I feel like I need to know you.”

They talked deep into the night. Bitty explained the hatred he faced from his family, the disappointment from his father, and the constant, never ending loneliness he lived with. Kent listened and nodded. He wasn’t sure why anyone would treat a family member poorly for loving someone of the same gender, but he supposed it was a land people thing that he would never truly be able to understand.

Kent showed his tail to the first land person he had ever spoken to and preened when Bitty gushed over how shiny his scales were. He always thought he was drab in comparison to Jack’s beautiful blue and yellow or Jeff’s bright red with black markings. But, Bitty assured him that black and silver complemented his skin tone well and that it looked very pretty in the moonlight. Kent couldn’t stop a blush from blossoming over his cheeks. He also couldn’t stop the crush that was forming right that very moment.

* * *

Two more years passed and the ache was still there. Kent still felt drawn to the surface every time Bitty was nearby. He spent that one blissful week in the summer talking to him and learning about his life. And somehow along the way, Kent’s bizarre obsession turned into something more.

“You are not letting this go, are you Kenny?”

“Alexei -”

Alexei sighed and swam over close to Kent. “You are wanting to save your human from land. Is he wanting the same?”

Kent was quiet for a moment, remembering the lost look in Bitty’s eyes as he gazed out over the ocean. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Is not easy thing you want to do. But, maybe come speak to my babushka. There is old family story from before we came to this pod. From back when we lived in the White Sea. Maybe you should hear it.”

Kent followed Alexei back to the caves where the pod slept safely at night. They meandered through the tunnels and eventually wound their way to the section where Alexei’s immediate family stayed. The elderly mermaid that was Alexei’s babushka didn’t leave the cave system often. It was dangerous for a mer of such advanced age in the open ocean where she didn’t have the ability to see too far around her, nor the speed to escape immediate danger. 

“Babushka, I brought my friend, Kenny. He is having questions about -”

“Ah, the fickle mer who likes to go to surface.”

Kent’s jaw dropped and stared aghast at the elderly mermaid. “I - I -”

“Tsk. I know the feeling. You are drawn to surface, yes?”

Kent hesitated a moment before replying quietly, “Yes.”

“Hm. I remember what it was like. You feel like your soul is split in two and the missing piece isn’t in the ocean where it belongs.”

Kent drifted forward, his entire being needing to hear more.

“It is because you are meant for the one you are drawn to. And they are separated by sea and land. Have you spoken to them, yet?”

Kent nodded weakly. “Yes.”

Alexei covered his mouth in shock. “You spoke to the land boy?”

His babushka waved him off, seemingly unconcerned. “I am not surprised. It was same with your dedushka. I could not stay away. He longed for the ocean. And I longed for him. You have heard the story.”

“Yes. But, he never spoke of being on land.”

“Because he was dead there and alive here. There was no point in looking back. Our pod in Russia was not happy with what I had done. They made us leave.” She stared into Kent’s eyes. “You are willing to risk everything for this land boy?”

Kent leaned forward and nodded fervently. “Please.”

Alexei’s babushka opened a large clam shell. Inside rested a glimmering moonstone pendant. “You take this necklace and lay it on the beach or on some rocks and let it charge in the light of full moon. When it shines with the brightness of the moon, place it back in the shell and keep it closed until you see your land boy again. Have him place it around his neck. He must jump into the water and dive deep enough that no light can reach him. When the moonstone is the only light touching him, he will change and become a mer. You will have to hold him down. Land people will fight to get to the air no matter how much they want to stay under. Once they have changed, they can never go back to the land. They will be just as much a mer as you or I. Can you do that?” 

Kent stared at the moonstone necklace and nodded. He wouldn’t force the decision on Bitty, but he could at least give him the choice. He wasn’t sure if he could hold him down as he struggled for air, but if Bitty decided that’s what he wanted, he would do his best.

* * *

“Bitty, come with me. I promise you’ll be happy.”

“How? I can’t breathe underwater, Kenny.”

Kent gripped Bitty’s hand tight and stared directly into his eyes. “If I could give you a tail, make you a mer, would you do it?”

“At what cost? I’m not stupid. Every fairytale I’ve ever seen is clear. Magic always has a price. If it costs your well-being, I don’t want it. If it means that I can never see you again, I don’t want it. I’d rather have these few days a year than lose you for some magical fix.”

Kent played with the moonstone pendant, twining the chain around his fingers. “The price is your life on land. You can never see your family again.”

“What?”

Kent laid the pendant on the pier. “This pendant can turn you into a mer. Forever. I charged it on the last full moon and kept it concealed. If you put it on and dive into the ocean, you will change.”

“What about the never coming back to land part?”

Kent solemnly looked up at Bitty. “You have to go deep enough in the ocean that no light but the pendant’s can touch you. Then, you will change. Once you are a mer, you can never go back to land. Land people cannot know we exist.”

Bitty stared back in vague horror. “I - what?”

“That’s the price. Your life on land for your life in the ocean.”

Bitty took the pendant from Kent’s fingers and inspected it for any sign that it was more than just a pretty rock. “Can I think about it?”

Kent nodded and held out the shell container. “Place it back in the clam shell so that it doesn’t lose its charge. If you decide to use it, do so at night so that you don’t have to go down as deep. I will stay close by, just in case.”

Bitty nodded and carefully closed the shell around the pendant. “I promise I’ll think about it.” He leaned back and then seemed to think better of it. “Kenny, would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Kent pulled himself as far out of the water as he was able, supporting all of his weight on his arms. “I’d like that.”

It was wet, salty, and rather quick, but Kent felt like an electric eel had shocked him down to the tips of his fluke. 

Bitty blushed high on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I’ll let you know.”

Kent let himself drift to the bottom of the ocean floor, the after effects of the kiss still pounding in his ears. He was an infatuated fool and he couldn’t care less, until the next day came and there was no sign of Bitty. Nor the day after that. Nor the day after that.

Kent felt sick. He supposed it was a good sign that Bitty had not returned. Maybe he had resolved his problems with his family. Maybe he didn’t need the escape of the ocean anymore. And then a dark voice whispered in his head that maybe it was Kent himself that Bitty didn’t want and the kiss was out of pity. But, he was stubborn. He would stick it out until Bitty and his family left. Then he would go back and wallow in his misery and never leave babushka’s cave again.

The last night of Bitty’s time at the shore came. Kent stayed well beneath the surface and sulked. Then, something changed. Cautiously, he poked his head above the dark water and heard distant yelling. A figure dashed down the sloping yard and hit the pier at a full sprint, diving straight into the ocean.

Kent didn’t waste any time and swam directly for him. Bitty had the moonstone pendant around his neck and swam down as hard as he could, but the water this close to shore was too shallow. Kent, grabbed his arm and pulled him to the surface. “If you want this, we have to go further out. Hold on to me.”

Bitty wrapped his arms around Kent’s neck, soft sobs wracking his body. “I told them. I finally told them I was gay. They couldn’t - they said -”

Kent shushed him. “It doesn’t matter what they said. Your family is here, with me, and soon the pod. You’ll see. Take one last breath. I’ll pull you down.”

Bitty gasped his last breath of air with his lungs and let Kent pull him deep under the waves into the darkness. The moonstone gleamed in the dark. Just as Bitty started to scramble against Kent’s grip for air, the moonstone flashed and his pants ripped apart as his legs fused into a tail with beautiful red scales and white speckles. Gills opened along his sides and water flooded in and filled his blood with much needed oxygen. It was done.

~~~

It was October Kent Parson heard the first whispers. And by whispers, he means locker room shouts.

“Holy fuck!” A voice shouted from across the locker room, and it managed to quiet the majority of people. When Kent looked over, it was Candy who was waving his phone and bouncing where he sat half dressed in his street clothes. “It looks like Erb’s Bakery is heading west! And southish!”

“You’d better not be shitting with me, Candy, you fucker,” Harpy said, lunging from where he’d been pulling on his shirt. Candy relinquished his phone without a quarrel, and after a moment, Harpy whooped. “Saint Louis! It is! Holy fuck!”

Kent took in the mix of chaos and exasperation that spread through the room, and he decided to bite. “What the hell are you dweebs talking about?”

Harpy, Candy, and a good portion of his teammates all looked at him in varying stages of dismay and disbelief. “Cap, have you not heard about Erb’s?” Harpy asked.

Kent let his silence speak for him.

Candy spoke up quickly. “Parse, it’s like the most legit bakery. All the East Coast teams are talking about it.”

“Well,” Diva interrupted, “not all of them. It hasn’t been down to Miami.”

“True,” Harpy said.

“Anyways,” Candy said pointedly, “it’s a bakery run out of a food truck, and I heard from some of the Islanders that the mini pies are to die for.”

“Yeah,” Harpy said. “But, like, it’s not a chain or anything. It seems like it’s just this guy traveling around the country in his food truck, and no one ever knows where he’s going to end up next. God, I hope he comes to Vegas.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled around. Kent felt his brows furrow slightly, how was he just now hearing of this?

Sonny, Kent’s A, and a forward nearly to retirement, spoke up. “If no one knows where he’s gonna be, how does he get any business?”

“He’s on the social media, Pops,” Candy said, with the barest hint of sarcasm. “Whenever he sets up shop, he’ll snap it—”

“He’ll tweet it,” Diva said.

“He’ll gram it,” Candy said.

“Hell, he even facebook’s it!” Harpy chimed in.

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, Cap,” Swoops said from next to Kent and with an elbow in his side. “He’s got an up and coming feline on Instagram.”

“What’s the name,” Kent said, already pulling his phone out. “I need to follow him right now.”

His teammates laughed at him, but once Kent got home from practice, he spent a shameful amount of time digging through @ERBbakery to see all the pictures of the gorgeous black cat, apparently named Plum.

~~~

“Dicky, I know you don’t follow sports much, but your Aunt Judy just told me that your cousin Tris told her that Kent Parson talked to you on the Instagram,” Suzanne said, and Eric resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he wiped down his countertops, Plum weaving her way around his feet.

“Mama, I’m sure I’d be a lot more excited if I knew who Kent Parson was.”

“He’s a hockey player, sweetie, the captain of the Las Vegas Aces. He’s quite the cutie, if your cousin can be trusted at all.” Eric bit back a snort, as Suzanne’s tone implied how trustworthy she thought Tris was. “Anyhow, you’ve just got to talk back to him on Instagram. He’s quite a bit famous, he could help out your business a bunch.”

This time Eric had to snort. “My business is doin’ just fine, Mama, and without a hockey player’s endorsement.”

“I’m just thinking, Dicky, some extra cash can’t hurt, especially if you decided to stop being a traveling circus for a while, maybe rent out an apartment and stop livin’ in the cab of your truck for a while.”

“I like my truck! It’s fun to travel, see all these cities and people.”

Suzanne snorts at him. “Mhm, and I’m sure you’ll keep thinking that when you aren’t nineteen.”

“I know it’s not a forever gig, Mama, give me more credit than that. Now, let me put you on speaker phone, and I can take a look at Instagram.”

“You do that, Dicky. And did you see that new cobbler recipe on our Pinterest? I was talking to your Aunt Mel earlier, and she was just going on about some blackberry peach cobbler her neighbor Sally had made for their neighborhood potluck, so I just had to figure out how to make one. The recipe I pinned…”

Eric would be slightly ashamed to admit that he zoned out a little then, but he had opened the picture he was tagged in that seemed to have exploded his Instagram.

kitpurrson: @ERBbakery I hear there’s some competition growing for best insta-cat. In unrelated matters, LOOK AT THIS CUTE FLUFFBALL

The picture it was attached to showed an incredibly fluffy calico stretching in a patch of sun on a table. Eric frowned. “Plum’s much cuter than this kitpurrson character,” he said, and during Suzanne’s shocked laughter, he realized he had cut her off. “Sorry, Mama, but you know I’m right.”

“Well, maybe you should tell her owner that. He seems to think she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

Eric was scrolling through the account, looking at the pictures of the calico, apparently called Purrs, and trying to see his competition. “Mama, are you encouraging me to start a cute cat war with this professional athlete?”

“I’m certainly not advocating against it. You’ve got a cute kitty there, and if it weren’t for your father’s allergies, I’d have gotten us our own by now.”

“You hate cats.”

“I know! That’s why it’s impressive that I like yours.”

“Oh, Mama, I found the link to the hockey player’s Instagram. Should I stalk him?”

Eric was already clicking the link when his mom agreed. “Well, Jiminy Cricket,” Eric breathed. The first picture on the page was a selfie of a lean man wearing sunglasses, his blonde hair a chaos of cowlicks, with his hands propped behind his head. He was also shirtless. Eric felt the blood flood his cheeks.

“What’s that, Dicky?” Suzanne asked, and Eric scrambled for a decent response.

“That, he certainly is… an NHL star, isn’t he?”

“Ooh, honey, what’re you goin’ to say back at him?”

“I don’t know yet,” Eric said, and he kept looking at more of this Kent Parson’s pictures, maybe paying more attention to the selfies. Whatever. It wasn’t like anyone had to know.

~~~

[a picture of a presumably all black cat covered in flour, the light catching on puffs of flour suspended in the air. The cat’s eyes are looking directly at the camera.]

ERBbakery: Well, if @kitpurrson thinks there’s any competition for cutest insta cat, he is sorely mistaken

~

[a picture of a long haired calico cat curled up in what looks like a hockey bag, as the cat is surrounded by hockey pads, pucks, and a hockey stick.]

kitpurrson: Baker cats aren’t the only ones who can tag along to work @ERBbakery @JeffTroy43 do you think the coaches will let her watch?

JeffTroy43: If I see her at practice I will take her home with me

kitpurrson: :( please don’t

heaththehockeyhunk: @JeffTroy43 you could almost say you would catnap her

JeffTroy43: @heaththehockeyhunk you can sleep at the rink tonight

Heaththehockeyhunk: :(

~

[a picture of a sleek black cat pawing at her nose as soft snowflakes fall around her.]

ERBbakery: I think Plum has the same opinion as I do about snow…

prissytrissy93: You HAVE to bring her to Georgia soon! Also, I think Aunt Suzie would love to see you

heaththehockeyhunk: @ERBbakery you know where it doesn’t snow? Vegas

~

[a picture of a fluffy calico cat, focused on her face, which is pressed on a man’s face right in front of his ear, her fur mingling with his blond hair.]

kitpurrson: Shame her for mistaking me for her scratch post and getting mad at me while she’s using me as her jungle gym.

dropdeaddiva87: I would never shame Purrs

M.S.Harper: ^Diva knows who the real captain is

ERBbakery: Plum often has those same misconceptions lol

~

[a picture focused on a black cat perched on a chair back, the background is full of warm colors and a Thanksgiving Day feast]

ERBbakery: Home for the Holidays

moomawmarjorie: Eric! Tris made me an Instagram account so I can see your cat. It’s good to have you home. I’ll be over to your house later today, so you can show me that new custard you were going on about.

ERBbakery: Thanks @moomawmarjorie I can’t wait to see you :)

kitpurrson: …

~

[a picture of a calico cat sprawled out next to a plated turkey sandwich and potato chips]

kitpurrson: Even though my dinner isn’t comparable to @ERBbakery at least Purrs blows his cat out of the water.

ERBbakery: Fight me.

heaththehockeyhunk: @ERBbakery I will pay you to come to Vegas and fight him

kitpurrson: @heaththehockeyhunk @ERBbakery I’m a professional athlete. He’s a traveling baker.

M.S.Harper: @ERBbakery don’t listen, @heaththehockeyhunk just wants you for your pie

heaththehockeyhunk: @M.S.Harper shhh I almost had him

~

[a picture of a black cat weaving through chair legs on a picturesque patio]

ERBbakery: Plum and I are loving New Orleans

prissytrissy93: try the beignets

moomawmarjorie: Oh, New Orleans is just one of my favorite places! Make sure to stop and listen to the music, Eric!

~

[a blurred picture of a calico cat curled up on someone’s chest]

kitpurrson: the only good thing about coming home with a lose

dropdeaddiva87: We’ll get ‘em next time Cap

JeffTroy43: The Avs won’t know what hit them

heaththehockeyhunk: ^^

M.S.Harper: ^^^

~

[a picture of a black cat sitting on the sill of the order window of a food truck, busy streets and a long line in the background]

ERBbakery: Can’t say Plum and I are rooting for the home team tonight in Denver, CO

kitpurrson: You know they’re playing the Panthers, right? The Avs will definitely win

prissytrissy93: You holding a grudge there Eric?

delarosedawn: OMG I don’t care WHO you’re rooting for, just please don’t run out of pie before I get there!

~

[a picture of a silhouette of a cat backlit by the setting sun]

kitpurrson: Purrs is embracing her romantic side

dropdeaddiva87: I’m in love with your cat.

~

[a picture of a black cat leaning out a truck window, the pink of sunset taking over the sky]

ERBbakery: @kitpurrson Plum as well

kitpurrson: <3

~

[a picture of a calico cat laying on a locker room bench between two men who look ready to skate]

kitpurrson: we’ve got our good luck charm in the house tonight

heaththehockeyhunk: omg don’t let coach see

M.S.Harper: You can’t let Purrs be kicked out!!!!

JeffTroy43: @kitpurrson I guess Purrs is going to have to come to all our home games now :)

ERBbakery: Good job tonight boys!

~

[a picture of a black cat laying on a truck dash, a city sprawled in the distance beyond]

ERBbakery: Vegas, here we come :)

JeffTroy43: @heaththehockeyhunk

heaththehockeyhunk: aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA

dropdeaddiva87: thanks @ERBbakery you broke him

~~~

Kent saw ERB Bakery post, at six a.m., that he had officially set up shop for a few days in Las Vegas. Kent ignored the sudden butterflies in his stomach. More accurately: a stampede of elephants in his stomach. Actually, Kent couldn’t really ignore them, but acknowledging them would mean that he would have to also acknowledge his fondness for the man, Eric, who ran the food truck.

To deal with his feelings, he ran, and by 7:22 he had returned to his usual state of successful repression. That is, until he saw Swoops standing outside his house.

“The fuck are you doing here, man?” Kent said, short of breath, as he let himself (and subsequently Swoops) inside.

“Take a shower, and I’ll get Purrs all leashed up.”

“Why,” Kent sighed, but he was already pulling off his shirt and walking towards his bathroom.

Swoops didn’t answer, opting instead to grab the cat treats from under the sink to lure Purrs down from her perch on top of the bookshelf.

Twenty minutes later, Kent met Swoops in his entry way, and Kent may have been dressed up slightly, with his hair slicked into order. He knew what Swoops was doing.

The three of them piled into Swoops car, and within thirty minutes, they were standing in a lot, the only fixture in which being a truck, and a short line of people leading to it. The food truck was painted a nice dark blue, the name of the business painted in swirling light blue, and there was a light- yellow awning suspended over the window. Standing inside the window was a blond man, who smiled at his customers with as much welcoming spirit as Kent had ever experienced before, and the man’s hand that wasn’t scrawling out orders or counting money was absent-mindedly scratching a black cat between her ears.

Kent’s heart beat stuttered as Swoops guided him into line.

In the back of Kent’s awareness, he recognized that Swoops was carrying on a very one- sided conversation, but he also recognized it didn’t matter, as sooner than he thought possible, they had reached the front of the line.

“What can I do for y’all today?” the blond man— Eric— said, half turned to prepare some part of a previous order.

Kent couldn’t breathe, and Swoops elbowing him in the side was not helping.

Then Eric turned all of his sunshine to face Kent, and he looked down and saw Purrs weaving around Kent’s legs. Eric looked at him again, softer this time, less preformed, more genuine, but he still smiled like the last puzzle piece of his life had fallen into place.

“Kent Parson, I presume?”

He stood in thehallway between his room and Jack’s for a long moment, staring at the lightunder Jack’s door. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He really, really wasn’tsupposed to be there. For any of it. Poking his nose into other people’sbusiness only let to poor decisions. And yet.

In a million other universes, Bitty would have done somethingdifferent. But in this one he followed Kent Parson downstairs.

Maybe everyone was somehow able to sense the animosityradiating from those who had just come from the second floor because despiteKent Parson’s claim to fame, he was the only one on the lawn when Bitty walkedout. Bitty eyed the three paper cups by Kent’s feet. He had no doubt it was tubjuice. Kent must have really wanted a drink to have chugged them all so fast.

“Can I help you?” Kent asked, slapping a smirk onhis face when he saw Bitty making his way across the lawn. Bitty thought hesounded almost tired, but that wasn’t going to get him out of anything.

“I don’t know what you said,” Bitty told him.“But you better not come ‘round here again.”

He had no idea where this courage was coming from. KentParson was a professional NHL star and Bitty, for all that he was comfortablewith his average height, was very aware of the different builds they held. Kenthad at least four inches on him and no doubt a lot more workout time, judgingby the firm look of his biceps.

The last time Bitty had been in anything close to a fight, heended up spending the night in a school closet. He hoped this time it would goa bit differently.

Kent scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Jack is my friend,”Bitty stressed. “And you don’t get to come into his home uninvited and make him feel likeshit.”

That made Kent pause. Bitty was very aware of the way Kent’seyes dragged his eyes up and down Bitty’s body.

“Yeah,” Kent said, not quite a sneer but damn nearclose. “He always did like blonds.”

Bitty felt hot under the collar. “What’s that supposedto mean?”

Kent fixed him a look.

“What do you think it means?” He asked. Bitty knewit was supposed to be rhetorical, so he didn’t answer, but his head wasspinning a little too much to make sense of things right now.

Bitty opened his mouth to retort and then shut it, audibly. Kent’sagitated look melted into… something else. Bitty saw Kent’s eyes flickerbetween one of the second floor Haus windows— Jack’s room— and Bitty’s face.

Objectively, Bitty could appreciate that Kent Parson wasattractive. Objectively, a person could drown in Kent Parson’s eyes and his asswasn’t half bad either, even if he did wear a douche-y snapbacks. Objectively,Kent Parson was a hot piece of ass, but that didn’t mean he wanted it when Kentgrabbed his face and pressed his mouth to Bitty’s.

Kent’s mouth was much too hot against his for the cool Decemberweather. It only took Bitty’s fist slamming in to Kent’s shoulder twice beforehe let go. Bitty stumbled back.

Kent Parson kissed like a dying man. Bitty was pretty sure itwasn’t for him.

“I’m sorry,” Kent said roughly, stepping back andturning his head toward the road. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“No,” Bitty agreed, voice firm. “You shouldn’thave.”

It wasn’t like he was no longer upset. The anger had not ‘drainedout of him,’ like he’d seen the phrased used in the odd romance novel. ButBitty was very aware he was having an argument on the front lawn of the Haus,where anybody could see, with NHL star Kent Parson, who had just kissed him outof some surreal jealousy. It was about as much as Bitty could take for onenight.

Bitty rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands. His lipssure didn’t tingle, but he coulddefinitely feel the ghost of a mouth on his own.

“I think,” he said evenly. “You should callyourself a cab.”

Kent wouldn’t look at him. His hands were in his pockets. “Yeah.Sure.”

Kent had driven to the Haus, but with three cups of tub juicein his system, Bitty was sure his Porsche could survive the night alone.Possibly a little more egg-coated than it had been the night before, but itwould survive.

Bitty trudged back into the Haus without giving a secondthought about Kent Parson and his thin shirt and the bitter December chill.

Jack probably wouldn’t have opened the door if he knocked andBitty wouldn’t have known what to do with himself if he had. He just went tohis room instead. He very deliberately did not look out the window at Kent fromabove, but he did wait until he saw the telltale body of a cab pull up and ablond head get in before he went to bed.