#transbitty

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” Bitty asks without bothering with small talk -- he knows Jack gets too focussed when he’s like this to think of anything else. He sets down his laptop bag and sits across from Jack. 

“We’re getting married in eight months,” Jack says. He bites his lip.

“Oh.” Bitty frowns. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No! No, never, Bits,” Jack says, eyes wide. 

“Good...” 

“It’s just.” Jack takes a deep breath and splays out his hands once, twice, before closing them in tight fists. “You know I want to take your name.”

“Yes, honey, and I still don’t quite understand why. I mean, I’m not complaining, Lord knows I can’t wait until we get mail addressed to Mr and Mr Bittle, but...”

“It’s because sometimes I don’t want to be Jack Zimmermann.”

The sunlight streaming in from the late afternoon August sun illuminates Jack earnest face as he says it, and something in Bitty breaks a little.

“But I love Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty says.

Jack breaks eye contact to look around almost helplessly. “I think I’m going about this the wrong way,” he says quietly, brows furrowed deeply.

“What, honey? Whatever it is...”

“Um. Okay. You know how I really like when you, uh, wear your bunny suit?”

Bitty is taken aback by what is seemingly a complete non sequitur. He almost wants to laugh at the strange question. “Yes? I like it too,” he says instead, incertainly. “But it’s pretty old now and you know I’ve gained weight recently, so we might have to retire it.”

“I’ve, uh, already bought you a new one,” Jack says.

“Lord, Jack. I didn’t know you liked it that much.” Bitty shakes his head, half-smiling. “It won’t be quite the same one as before, I had just cut the legs off a onesie I found at Target.”

“Yeah. It’s not. Um. Quite the same...” 

Jack pulls his laptop closer and opens it up, and Bitty wonders what this all has to do with wanting to be Jack Bittle and not Jack Zimmermann.

When Jack turns the laptop around, Bitty can’t help the gasp that falls from his mouth same as he can’t stop his eyes from widening. Because it’s a bunny costume, alright, but this one is certainly... more. It doesn’t show so much skin, and is decidedly fluffy, and reminds Bitty a lot of those fursuits he’d seen when he’d stumbled across a strange corner of the internet back in high school. It’s not as bulky as those, not quite a full suit, but... close. There’s a mask.

“Oh,” he says eloquently. 

Jack looks down. “Um. I know it’s not. Probably not. What you expected.”

“No,” Bitty says. His voice is higher than normal. He wonders if the fur is soft. If it will be soft against his skin. “Not really.”

Jack takes another deep breath and turns the laptop back to himself, clicking a few things quickly, then showing it to Bitty again. On the screen now is a similar thing, but this time it isn’t a bunny. It’s a dog. A husky? The mask has big droopy eyes that are precisely the same shade of blue as Jack’s.

Bitty’s throat feels a little dry. “Did you get these custom-made?” he asks, strangely, instead of the myriad of other things he could say.

Jack nods slowly, and his shoulders are hunched down, like he’s afraid. Something in that look makes Bitty push away from the table and walk around it to sit on Jack’s lap and wrap his arms around him. 

“What,” Jack says hoarsely, but doesn’t finish his question. He’s stiff in Bitty’s arms but readjusts so Bitty’s comfortable anyway.

“Okay, baby,” Bitty says softly against Jack’s forehead. “Okay.”

The tap-tapping of Jack’s foot against the floor stops and his arms come up around Bitty’s waist. “Really?” he whispers.

“I can try,” Bitty says. He kisses Jack on the temple.

“I love you,” Jack says. Bitty smiles.