The Stranger the Better
From: @hockeydyke
To: @bitty-smol
Summary: Kentās had a bad day and he figures date night with Bitty will improve his mood. But when Bitty watches a hot stranger get stood up, he decides to invite the man over to join him and Kent for the night. The only problem? Kent knows the guy.
Rating: T
Tags: Alternate universe- no one plays hockey, Established Eric āBittyā Bittle/Kent āParseā Parson, Eric āBittyā Bittle/Kent āParseā Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Misunderstandings
Kent hadnāt had the best day so far.
All things considered, though, he was doing a pretty good job of holding it together. In fact, he was actually proud that he hadnāt snapped at his boyfriend at all despite his bad mood, because he was still feeling rational enough to know that he didnāt actually want to push Bitty away or do anything to make things worse. Instead, he was trying to ignore it and go about his daily routine as usual.
And sure, maybe it wasnāt the best thing in the world for Kent to push down all his feelings and frustrations, but Bitty had a tendency to pick up the moods of the people around him, and Kent didnāt want to make Bitty grumpy just because he had the misfortune of being both physically and emotionally close to a particularly pissy Kent Parson on what could otherwise be an entirely pleasant Friday night.
So Kent had texted Bitty during work and suggested a low-key dinner date, because enchiladas and a couple happy hour drinks from Cactus Cantina across the street from their apartment certainly couldnāt make things worse. All Kent knew was that the place was casual, the dessert menu was up to Bittyās standards, and the drink selection rotated often enough to keep him happy, so it was a win for both of them, and they usually ended up there at least once a week.
And thatās what brought Kent to where he was currently, sipping a half-priced strawberry swirl margarita and pouting because his boyfriend wasnāt paying attention to him. This was particularly offensive to Kent since Bitty was busy looking over Kentās shoulder at some hot guy whoād sat down on the other side of the room around when theyād arrived. The nerve of it all. Sure, Kent and Bitty had an open relationship, but that didnāt mean that Kent never got jealous-- especially when he was two margs in and in need of attention as he tried to tell an entertaining story about Jenna from Marketing.
Bitty rested his chin on his hands and made heart eyes in the hot guyās direction again, and Kent finally gave up and sighed as loudly as he could get away with in public. āCome on,ā he said, sounding only slightly whinier than heād intended. āIs this guy really that hot? Youāve been staring at him for ten minutes.ā
He began to turn, but Bitty darted his hands out and grabbed the collar of Kentās shirt to keep him from doing it. āI swear to god, Kent. Do not look at him right now. Itād be so obvious that weāre staring.ā
Kent threw his hands in the air. āAlright, alright! Iām not looking, okay? You can describe him to me.ā He stared in front of himself instead, at the turquoise accent wall and exposed brick and generic cactus-themed decor. āSee, not looking, so paint me a damn picture. But make it a sexy picture, at least.ā
Bitty leveled Kent with a stare. āYouāre ridiculous,ā he said, but he did take another good look over Kentās shoulder. āHeās got gorgeous blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass. Honestly, he looks familiar. I feel like Iāve seen him somewhere before.ā
āWhat kind of familiar?ā
āLike, B-list reality TV star famous. Or maybe some kind of modeling? He has the bone structure for it. Heās easily the hottest person here, other than us, obviously.ā
āObviously,ā Kent repeated. āAnd heās seriously been alone this whole time?ā
āYes! The waitress has checked up on him, like, five times. Poor thing,ā Bitty said, frowning. āSomeone definitely stood him up. We should go see if he wants to come sit with us to take his mind off of it.ā
āAre you kidding me? I bet he got stood up because heās an asshole.ā
āKent.ā
āWhat if heās a serial killer?ā Kent said, then sat up straighter and poked at Bittyās forearm. āEven worse-- what if heās the kind of guy who golfs on weekends?ā
āOh, shush. Youāve been such a grump today,ā Bitty said, which, ouch, but true. Maybe Kent wasnāt as good at hiding his feelings as he thought, which was possibly something that he should talk to his therapist about. āWeāre going to do something nice and weāre going to feel good about it.ā
Feel good. A Freudian slip, or maybe a complete coincidence, but it was enough for Kent to jump to a conclusion that he felt pretty good about. He grinned.
āYou just want us to have a threesome with him, donāt you?ā
They stared each other down for a few moments. Bitty had a decent poker face, but Kent had known him for long enough to recognize the faint pink blush on his cheeks as a dead giveaway that he was right.
Finally, Bitty gave in. āOkay, fine, I think we should invite him home with us. But once you see him, youāre gonna agree with me. Heās exactly your type.ā And before Kent could speak, he added, āYour other type, sweetheart. Not like me at all.ā
āBig guy?ā
āMm,ā Bitty hummed, gazing over Kentās shoulder and nodding, chin resting in his hands again. āThighs for days. Dark hair, very mysterious. Could definitely play a vampire in a movie, but like, a vampire who works out.ā
āFuck, okay. Invite him over,ā Kent said, just as their waitress passed by again. While Bitty stood and headed out of Kentās view, Kent waved her over so she could get him another margarita. She brought the drink out immediately. Kent was just lifting it up to his mouth for a sip when Bitty returned, smiling and bouncing on his toes as he sat back down across the table from Kent.
And then next to him, because Kent Parsonās life was a nightmare or at least a mildly uncomfortable stress dream, Jack Zimmermann sat down, looking stunningly handsome but also sheepish and shy right up to the moment when he met Kentās eyes. Immediately, Jackās annoyingly perfect face collapsed into a frown, looking for all the world like heād seen a ghost.
At least, thatās what Kent felt like, because here was the same Jack Zimmermann who Kent had been moping about all day, after seeing on Facebook that morning that heād moved back to town after more than five years away. Kent hadnāt seen him in person for nearly as long, since the last time heād made a pitiful attempt to win Jack back at the Zimmermann family holiday party was just a month before heād met Bitty. This was that Jack Zimmermann, back in his life without any warning.
It was all Kent could do not to spit out his entire mouthful of tequila and sugar, and the only reason he didnāt was because his shirt was white and he didnāt feel like spending his evening trying to remove a pink stain from it, but God, he wanted the drama of it.
Bitty dove right into introductions, seemingly unaware of Kentās hopefully well-disguised mental and emotional crisis. āJack, hon, this is my boyfriend, Kent. Kent, this is Jack. He just moved in across the street from here.ā
Kent swallowed. His drink felt like it had gone stale in his mouth. āWeāve met,ā he said, dry.
āOh, really?ā Bitty asked, looking up at Jack again, narrowing his eyes.
Jack didnāt say anything at all. Instead, while he sat there slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Kent had to explain what was going on. āThis is Jack Zimmermann,ā Kent said, trying to use his eyes to convey his sheer panic to Bitty. āI played hockey with him in high school,ā he said, because that was easier than saying that Jack was the one who broke his heart, and anyway, Bitty knew the entire story and would be able to infer.
Bitty continued to force a smile. āGoodness! Well, I really walked right into that one, huh? No wonder you looked so familiar,ā he said, patting Jackās arm in a way that Kent knew was meant to be both comforting, but actually made Jack look like he was about to implode.
āEugh,ā Jack started, helpful as ever, and something about his rich tenor made Kentās blood feel warm. It was also possible that the tequila had just hit. āI can go. I donāt want to, um, upset anyone. Sorry.ā
āYou donāt have to! Weād still be glad to have you join us,ā Bitty said. āI know that Kent has so much heād love to talk to you about, and Iām sure itās the same on your end of things!ā
āBits,ā Kent hissed. He wasnāt sure if heād ever been betrayed this badly. Bitty was definitely sleeping on the couch tonight, but he couldnāt say that right now, because that would probably look bad in front of Jack.
Kent didnāt want that, probably. In fact, he wasnāt at all sure what exactly he did want from Jack now, at this point in his life, at age 25 and happy with his boyfriend, job, cat, apartment, and basically every other aspect of life that showed that he had proudly moved on from Jack Zimmermann.
And yet Kent couldnāt help but let his mind drift to how happy he was that he hadnāt had time to change after work, because he looked pretty damn good in his slacks and button-down. He wasnāt wearing a hat, but he had spent a very long time in front of the restroom mirror touching up his hair after his lunch break, so he felt pretty confident that it looked good right now. Comparatively, this was a much better way of running into Jack than, say, running into him during a late-night grocery run when Kent was wearing ratty sweatpants and a shirt with a picture of his cat on it.
Kent thought he looked okay. And he did want Jack to know that he was okay.
Jack was still frowning, and the worry lines in his forehead and around his eyes were deeper than they used to be. His eyes were also, somehow, so much more blue than Kent remembered, as if time had somehow erased their intensity. After a moment, Jack cleared his throat, stilted and awkward, and said the one thing that could convince Kent to give this a shot: āIāve missed you.ā
It was too much.
āYup,ā Kent said, standing up fast enough to knock into the table and jostle it, loudly shifting the plates and glasses and fake cactus on top of it. āI gotta hit the bathroom. Bitty?ā
Bitty stood, much more graceful, and slid out of the booth. āIt seems like I also have to use the restroom. Stay here and weāll be right back,ā he said, and something in his tone was commanding enough that Jack obediently remained seated and didnāt argue.
Kent pushed through the main room of the restaurant and back to the hallway where the restrooms were located and closed the door once he and Bitty were both in the one-stall menās bathroom. He took stock of the situation: shockingly he wasnāt having a panic attack, but he was still feeling thrown off and almost dazed.
āI think Iām in shock. Could I literally be in medical shock right now? Am I crying?ā he said to his own reflection in the mirror, eyes wet and hair wild. His hair had cowlicks, it seemed, remained tamed. Over his shoulder, he could see mirror-Bitty facepalm, then move closer so he could pat Kentās shoulder.
āKent, honey,ā Bitty started, then paused as Kent leaned over the sink and splashed water in his face, hoping to refresh himself. āI love you, but you really have zero common sense. Youāre getting your shirt all wet.ā
āGood!ā Kent said. āDoes it look like Iām crying? Because Iām totally not crying.ā
āYou donāt look like youāve been crying because youāve basically trained yourself not to cry properly, which is absolutely not healthy, but Iām not going to lecture you about it right now,ā Bitty said. āBut even if you were, itād be fine! Iām sure heās freaking out just as much as you are right now!ā
āIs this a pep talk, or are you trying to make me feel guilty?ā Kent asked. āBecause I donāt feel guilty. He ignored me for years, Bits. It never meant anything to him.ā
āKenny.ā Bitty grabbed Kent by the shoulders. Kent could feel them flex and press into his shirt as Bitty raised up slightly onto his toes. It was a habit heād developed from years of trying to close their three-inch height difference, and the familiarity of it lulled Kentās pulse to a more reasonable pace. āYouāve been wanting closure with him for as long as Iāve known you. I know he broke your heart. But youāre both adults now and I think youāre finally mature enough to talk about it, so why donāt we give it a try?ā
Kent leaned forward until Bitty understood what he wanted and wrapped his arms around him in a proper hug. He sighed. āYeah, okay. Even though I hate it when youāre right.ā
āIām always right,ā Bitty said, giving Kentās back one final pat and then gently pushing him back out of the restroom and into the main floor of the restaurant.
For the first time, Jack smiled. āDid you spill a glass of water on your shirt?ā he asked.
āDonāt worry about it,ā Kent said. āWhat really matters is that my boyfriend thinks youāre hot. Can you buy him a drink and also explain why the fuck youāre back in town?ā
āOh,ā Jack started, then faltered. āI guess, I-- well. I got a new job.ā He took a deep breath, then turned to Bitty. āSorry, what would you like to drink?ā
āJust a regular margarita, thank you,ā Bitty said, sliding into the booth next to Jack. āSo, Mr. Zimmermann. Please tell us all about this new job of yours.ā
And so Jack did. Kent was quiet during their first round of drinks, listening and watching and learning about this new, older Jack Zimmermann. He was still reserved and still a little bit slow on the uptake when it came to the jokes and slang that Kent and Bitty easily tossed around, but he also cracked a few jokes of his own, which was something he never used to do when they were teenagers. He was more relaxed, too: although Kent spent several minutes watching Jackās hands, he didnāt see them shake at all.
Their conversation flowed easily enough that two hours passed without Kent noticing. He only realized that it was close to ten-- closing time-- that their waitress had started to hover around the table, pacing at the edge of Kentās line of vision. At ten, she shuffled up to the table, but didnāt say anything yet. The girl was young, probably in high school, and Kent felt bad for her. Heād hated waiting tables, too, back when heād done it in college. He looked at Bitty, then at the waitress, trying to subtly let him know that it was time to go.
Bitty nodded, and then, under the table, kicked Kent. It was all Kent could do to keep from yelping, but he somehow managed it and shot a glare in Bittyās direction, thankful that Jack was oblivious and rambling happily about his photography. Bitty kicked Kent again. Clearly, it was up to him to decide how they were going to end the night.
āAlright,ā Kent said, before his leg had to sustain any more damage. He waved the waitress closer and motioned for the check. āHow about we move this to our place? You can meet my cat, Zimms.ā
Jack looked up. āReally?ā
āYeah, really,ā he said, accepting the check and sliding his card into the holder before either of them could stop him. It was a convenient way for him to avoid eye contact. Ā āI donāt know if you want anything like that, and if you want to just ignore me so we go back to pretending each other doesnāt exist, I could get over that too.ā
āBut,ā Bitty prompted, kicking Kent again.
āBut Iād like it if youād come home with us,ā Kent said, finally looking up from where heād been fidgeting with his debit card.
It was dim in the restaurant this late at night, the colorful string lights and candles doing little against the dark outside, but Jackās eyes were shining. He nodded, thoughtful. āThis was nice. Iād like that too.ā
āThank God,ā Bitty said. āOkay, letās get out of here. Iām dying to get out of my work clothes,ā he said, giving Jack a wink that made him choke on his last sip of the single pint of beer heād been nursing all night.
As they left the restaurant, Jack and Kent walked on either side of Bitty, who looked as pleased as the cat whoād gotten the cream. āTold you weād feel good about this,ā he said, knocking his hips against Kentās own and smiling, and thatās when Kent realized what should have occurred to him the moment that Bitty invited Jack over to their table.
That little shit knew who Jack was all along.
āOh, man,ā he said, throwing his arm around Bittyās shoulder. He nuzzled his nose against Bittyās ear before blowing in it and laughing when Bitty squealed. āYouāre lucky I love you.ā










