Just felt part of my reality shift a little bit. Cuz I was reading an adorable fic that is part introspective on Jack’s experiences with romance over the years and part Zimbits fluff extravaganza. And I came across this paragraph:
Jack calls Bitty “bud” and fools everyone into thinking it’s short for buddy. But actually, Jack calls Bitty “bud” because, in his head, it’s short for rosebud because he thinks Bitty is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen–- as perfect as a rosebud. His beautiful, beautiful bud.
JACK CALLS BITTY BUD ALL THE TIME IN CANON THIS IS LITERALLY ALL I’M GONNA BE THINKING ABOUT FOR THE REST OF FOREVER
The fic is titled You’ve Got the Universe Reclining in Your Hair, by WrathoftheStag on AO3 and they have a truckload of other excellent OMGCP fic I’m just saying
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I just wanted to say that Jack and Bitty's little kiss at the Haus looks like my parents when my dad gets home from work. My parents have been married for 25 years. I'm pretty sure they're it for each other.
although it pains me to use this number, 45, pretty please
Thanks for the prompt! I loved this one: “Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.” As I mentioned in our chat, this one is rated mature and a little longer than the other prompts. Summary: A love story in ten acts. Jack and Bitty spend time alone in Providence before the start of junior year.
the heat of his breath in my mouth; i’m alive
i.
“Hi,” Bitty said as he walked to baggage claim where Jack stood waiting for him with a smile on his face and his heart on his sleeve.
It was the first time they’d seen each other since Fourth of July weekend in Madison, and while phone calls, texts, and Skyping were terrific, there was no substitute for Bitty’s face in person. Had he always been that beautiful, Jack wondered? Yes. Yes, he had. Jack had just been too boneheaded to realize it—or let himself see it fully.
“Hi,” Jack replied.
Their smiles were a mile wide and fifty feet deep. Jack cleared his throat and spoke.
“Do you have a lot of bags?”
“Just two bags. It was cheaper to FedEx stuff to the Haus than to bring it on the plane.”
They made their way to the appropriate carousel and stood side by side, close but not too close. Jack could feel Bitty’s heat radiate off his body and brush against him. Jack’s stomach pleasantly flipped in a way that was all too exhilarating.
Everyone at the haus was expecting Bitty three days later, thinking he would be coming in from Madison but in the dark stillness of the night, in Bitty’s childhood bedroom, the two made whispered plans back in July. Secret and safe.
“Come back early, and stay with me,” Jack pleaded quietly as they pressed their foreheads against one another.
“I mean, there’s no reason why I can’t,” Bitty said as he smiled shyly.
“We can be alone. We can bake, hang out, watch movies, sleep together,” Jack said. The thought was almost too much for Jack to bear. All at once, overwhelming and perfect. “No haus shenanigans, no fear of your parents walking in on us.”
“Did you actually say ‘shenanigans?’”
Jack smiled, “Haha. I did.”
“You’re such an old man.”
Jack chuckled and kissed Bitty’s forehead. “Will you stay with me?”
“That sounds amazing, sweetpea,” Bitty said then ducked his head into the crook of Jack’s neck.
“Are you blushing?” Jack asked, instantly charmed.
“No,” Bitty giggled. “Maybe.”
“Will you come and stay with me before school starts?”
“Yes.”
Jack pressed a kiss to Bitty’s lips, already counting down the days. And now, there they stood waiting for Bitty’s bags, ready to head to Jack’s apartment where they would spend three entire days, completely and blessedly alone, without any interruptions or fears.
“That’s my bag there,” Bitty said.
They smiled as their hands lightly brush against each other while they both reached for the suitcase.
ii.
They held hands the entire drive home. Bitty watched Jack as he drove, how he maneuvered the streets, the intense look on his face when he merged lanes, the anxious tap-tap-tapping of the steering wheel when they were at the red light. All the while, Jack gently rubbed circles with his thumb on Bitty’s hand, and when Jack would turn to look at Bitty, the open happiness on his face was something that took Bitty’s breath away.
This boy.
“I got us enough groceries so that we don’t have to go out—euh, unless you want to,” Jack said, “go out, that is.”
“I don’t mind staying in,” Bitty said.
He leaned over and stroked Jack’s cheek. Jack closed his eyes and kissed the inside of Bitty’s hand. And angry car horn broke them out of their moment, and Jack shook his head as he chuckled and started to drive once again.
When they finally pulled into Jack’s parking garage, Bitty suddenly became nervous. Alone. That would be the first time they were alone together, without mama walking in on stolen kisses in Bitty’s room, without Coach practically barging in on a quick hug by the garage. Alone. What would that look like?
Jack had been so sweet and gentle back in Madison, taking his time with Bitty, repeatedly asking him if he was okay, he if wanted to continue. How would Jack be at his place? No, Bitty wasn’t worried about Jack being too handsy (truth be told, Bitty wanted Jack to be as handsy as possible), he was just worried that Jack would still want to take things slow for Bitty’s sake. Bitty knew Jack was the more experienced of the two, but Bitty felt he had a lot to make up for. He was a ripe Georgia peach, ready to be plucked and Bitty was prepared to make his home state proud.
“We’re here,” Jack said with a tiny smile. “We’re home.”
Jack carried both bags as they walked in, and the entire elevator ride up, the two remained silent. Bitty, however, could feel the electricity crackle between them.
The doors opened on the second floor, and an older woman with a dog walked in.
“Oh, hello, Jack,” she said.
“Hi, Mrs. Somerlot. Hi, Peanut,” Jack said.
The dog huffed at Jack and wagged his tail approvingly. She smiled and nodded at Bitty, and Bitty in turn softly elbowed Jack in the ribs.
“Uh, this is my friend. Bittle.”
Bitty scrunched up his nose. “Eric. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
Mrs. Somerlot smiled. “What a sweet face you have.”
Bitty smiled, and his smile grew even wider when Jack was the one who elbowed him that time.
Mrs. Somerlot got off on the fifth floor and waved goodbye. The second the elevator doors closed, Jack chuckled.
“What a sweet face you have,” he chirped.
“You hush.”
“It’s true, though. It was a lame chirp because it’s true.”
The two exchanged a shy glance that made Bitty feel like he was the star of his very own rom-com.
The ding of the elevator broke their spell as Jack honest-to-goodness winked at Bitty. Bitty took one of the bags from Jack and made his way out.
“I hope you like it,” Jack said as he took out his key. He placed his hand on the small of Bitty’s back, a quiet intimate gesture that thrilled Bitty.
“I do! From what you’ve shown me, I like a lot.”
Jack had been so cute when he gave Bitty a Skype tour of the apartment, and now there he was, all 6’ 1” of nervous as he showed him around in person.
“And here,” he said when they finally reached the kitchen, “is, uh, the oven in the flesh. You can name it—her, uh, him—if you want.”
“Honey, why are you so nervous?” Bitty asked as he tried to mask his nerves.
“I’m not sure,” he said as he blushed and laughed softly.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I am, too… a little bit.”
Bitty walked toward Jack, who had both hands behind his back as if he were keeping them there to stop himself from touching Bitty.
“But,” he continued, “it’s okay if you touch me. I want you to.”
Jack’s nod was almost imperceptible, and soon, Bitty stood in front of him.
“Now shut up and kiss me properly, mister,” Bitty whispered.
Jack reached out to cup Bitty’s face, and Bitty’s eyes shut. He could feel the heat of Jack’s breath on his mouth as he leaned in to ghost his lips to Bitty’s.
Bitty reached out and wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, and suddenly, it was on. The two exchanged frantic kisses as they moved around the apartment, exiting the kitchen. They hit the edge of Jack’s coffee table and nearly tripped over it, as they made their way to the sofa and landed on it with a big oomph!
“See,” Bitty said breathlessly as Jack sucked tiny kisses onto his neck, “absolutely nothing to be nervous about.”
Jack began to pull Bitty’s t-shirt up and over his head.
“Shirt, off,” he panted.
The two became lost in their kisses once again as Jack blindly pulled at Bitty’s Falconers t-shirt.
Bitty laughed when he found himself tangled up in his t-shirt, arms akimbo. “How about we get to the bed?”
Jack paused and then looked at Bitty, and the two laughed as Jack pulled the shirt back down.
“You are the most adorable person in the entire world,” Jack said as he sweetly smoothed down Bitty’s cowlick.
“Right back at you, mister.”
Jack smiled and kissed Bitty softly on this lips. He then grinned and scooped him up out of the couch and flipped him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
Summary: A little early-in-the-relationship pillow talk. Also on AO3...
“I like nuts, but not in baked goods.”
“Hmmm, is that so?” Bitty asked as he traced Jack’s ear.
The two lounged in bed; a sleepy, lazy morning…
Bitty was draped across Jack’s back; his head nestled in between Jack’s shoulder blades, feet grazing his ankles.
Jack’s head rested on top of his crossed arms as he continued. “Roasted nuts, totally fine. Almonds, cashews, pistachios, good. Put one in a muffin? That muffin now belongs in the trash.”
Bitty smiled and pressed a kiss onto Jack’s shoulder.
“What else?”
“Walnuts? Walnuts in baked goods are the worst. They have this bitter texture; you can feel it on your tongue.”
“Heaven forbid,” Bitty chirped.
“It’s gross,” Jack said, “I don’t like the texture.”
Bitty danced his fingers up and down Jack’s forearm.
“I had no idea you were so high maintenance when it came to your baked goods, Mr. Zimmermann.”
Bitty pushed away the fact that he was starting school again next week when all he wanted to do was focus on his time left at Jack’s. Their relationship was still so new for them both, fragile and precious, but it felt like home… like a place they were born to be.
“I hate bananas, but I like banana bread,” Jack said as he reached back to softly squeeze Bitty’s backside.
Bitty giggled.
“Wait a minute. You hate bananas? But I’ve seen you eat plenty of bananas.”
“They’re a good source of potassium, Bittle.”
“Ah, well, there you go. Silly me.”
Jack reached around again and tickled Bitty.
“Stop!” he screeched. “We’re supposed to be calm and relaxed.”
Jack rolled onto his side, as Bitty gently plopped onto the bed.
“We are calm,” Jack said as he moved closer and gently pressed his lips to Bitty’s, “and relaxed.”
He licked into his mouth, and Bitty pulled back to break the kiss.
“So I’ll be sure to make you plenty of banana bread without nuts. Got it.”
“Banana cream pie is good, too,” Jack said as he wagged his brows.
Bitty laughed. “What’s with the eyebrows?”
Jack wagged them again and grinned.
“I’m doing that to let you know that I like banana cream pie. Get with the program, bud.”
Bitty smiled and inched closer to Jack. He rubbed his cheek on Jack’s, and Jack happily hummed.
“Feels nice.”
“You feel nice.”
Jack leaned in to kiss Bitty again.
“Mmm,” Bitty muttered in between kisses. “How about rice pudding? You like rice pudding?”
Jack replied, while dotting smooches along Bitty’s jawline, “Rice pudding is good, but I don’t like tapioca.”
“Yeah, me neither.” More smooches. “Raisins?”
“Undecided. Depends on the baked good.”
“You can’t be undecided about raisins, Jack.”
Jack shrugged. “You know what else I like?”
“What,” Bitty asked.
“You.”
Jack locked eyes with Bitty, and Bitty felt his breath hitch. Was it possible to be so head over heels for each other this early in the relationship?
Jack wagged his eyebrows, and Bitty laughed again.
Summary: When you don't know how to say hi to the cutie you see on campus, sometimes you just do kooky things to get their attention. A Zimbits AU meet cute. For @devereauxsdisease. Also on AO3...
ERIC
“I think it needs some more parmesan,” Eric said as he tasted his pesto.
“Dude, it looks so good. Can I have some?” Larissa asked as she stared down Eric’s pesto.
“Back, you fiend,” he said with a laugh and put the cover on the food processor. He pulsed it as he added more cheese and olive oil.
Larissa leaned against the counter and waited for Eric’s final verdict. He dipped his spoon and tasted. He offered her a taste and both nodded in agreement.
“Perfecto!” Eric said.
Larissa added a healthy dollop onto her bowl of plain pasta.
“Thanks, man. Lunch is served,” she said as she hopped onto the counter and began to dig in.
“You’re lucky I love you as much as I do, you mooch,” Eric said with a smile.
He spread the pesto on his homemade ciabatta, added the buffalo mozzarella, slices of heirloom tomato, and gave a quick glug of olive oil. He took the prosciutto out of the toaster oven and put it on top of the tomato, then added the other slice of bread, and plated the sandwich.
“You gonna take a picture?”
“Totally on it. Behold the world’s most perfect sandwich,” Eric said as he took several photos with his camera.
“Now all I have to do is take this over to Professor Atley and sweet talk my way into her Women, Food and American Culture class.”
“Dude, it’s kinda scary that you managed to find out what her favorite sandwich is,” Lardo said.
“I have my ways,” Eric said as he wagged his eyebrows.
He wiped his hands and took the plate. Eric loved cooking in the student kitchens. He loved everything about Samwell, actually. He loved the diversity, the inclusivity, the fact that it was a traditional four-year college, and he could major in culinary arts. Because of that, he had friends that were econ majors (like Adam), bio (like Justin). There was Chris who was a computer science major, and of course, Larissa, who was his best friend and one of the best artists on campus. He loved his school and would love it even more if he managed to get into Professor Atley’s class.
“Wish me luck,” Eric said as he walked out with plate in hand.
Eric whistled as he made his way out the student kitchens, through Building C---which was a handy-dandy shortcut to the Culinary Arts Building---and through the block of student dorms. Just as he passed by dorm 115, the door opened and out popped one of the most gorgeous guys Eric had ever seen; tall, icy blue eyes, dark hair, and muscles for days.
The two froze in place, and Eric saw the guy’s eyes grow wide.
“Oh, good! You’re here with my sandwich,” he said as he grabbed the sandwich from Bitty’s plate, took a bite and walked down the hallway.
Eric stood flabbergasted.
“Hey! HEY!” He yelled as he chased the guy down the hallway.
He turned around and had the nerve to have some pesto smeared on his cheek. The utter nerve!
“That’s my goddamn sandwich,” Eric said as he marched right up to the guy, plate still in hand.
The guy smiled. “It’s really good. Thanks!”
He turned again and kept going down the hall until Eric saw him knock on another dorm room door and walk right on in.
JACK
Now Jack could admit that he wasn’t the smoothest, not by a long shot, but even this was lame for him.
“Shits, I’m such an idiot,” Jack groaned as he plopped himself onto Shitty’s bed. The sandwich sat on Jack’s abdomen, staining his Habs t-shirt with grease.
“Whatchu do now? And why do you have a sandwich on you?” Shitty asked as he closed the door behind him.
“I finally talked to him,” Jack said, still on the bed, as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“The tiny blond? The chef kid?!” Shitty asked with glee. “Out-fucking-standing!”
Jack propped himself up in his elbows. “Not really…”
Shitty sat next to Jack, picked up the sandwich and took a bite.
“Kermit, Piggy, and Gonzo! This is a good sandwich,” Shitty said.
“It’s his. His sandwich. I just stole it, off a plate he was carrying,” Jack said and then groaned.
Shitty looked at him then began to cackle. “What?! Jack, what did you do, you goon?”
Jack first noticed Eric last semester. He was arriving at Faber for team practice (his usual one hour earlier than the rest of the team) and noticed there was someone on the ice. Once a month, Faber hosted an open skate; that’s when he saw him. He was the only person still there. He skated gracefully, fluidly, with a strength and ease Jack had never seen.
Jack stood there mesmerized and watched as Eric began a complicated jump. Jack hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until Eric landed his jump.
Eric huffed and puffed, and smiled to himself as he skated off the rink.
Jack didn’t know what to do and wanted to meet the mystery skater, so he did the only thing he could think of. He ran into the locker room.
Jack would see Eric around campus. He knew Eric was a culinary arts major, was from Georgia, and he baked a lot of pies. The Baking Club had regular sales, and while Jack never got the nerve to buy anything in person, he’d send Johnson in his place. He would sit with Shitty and eat Eric’s baked goods.
“You could just introduce yourself,” Shitty suggested one day as he took a bite of chocolate pecan pie.
“How? When? Where?” Jack helplessly shrugged.
“And sometimes why?” Shitty laughed. “Jack, you’re a gorgeous hunk of hot maple candy. The next time you see him around, just introduce yourself. Just say, ‘Hello, I’m Jack Zimmermann and I love you.’”
Jack frowned. “You know I’m not good with…” he began and waved his arms.
“Words?”
Jack nodded.
And so, he admired and pined for Eric from afar, just as nature intended. That was until he now found himself sitting on Shitty’s bed as his own personal human buffet. It happened so fast, he hadn’t even realized what he had done until after he did it.
Jack walked out of his dorm room and found himself face to face with Eric. He could have said hello, he could have introduced himself, he could have invited him to coffee. No. Instead, he panicked and stole Eric’s sandwich, took a bite and ran off---like a complete loon.
“So you didn’t say anything?” Shitty asked as he cuddled up next to Jack, sandwich still in hand.
“I said it was a really good sandwich. And then I said thanks.”
“Well, at least you were polite. Brah, you are hopeless. Oh, and you have pesto on your face, by the by.”
“Great, just great,” Jack said and sat up.
“Why don’t you just go look for him and say, 'Sorry I stole your sandwich'?”
“I don’t think I can do that,” Jack said as he took the sandwich back from Shitty and took another bite. “It really is a good sandwich.”
Shitty nodded as they passed the sandwich back and forth.
ERIC
“Of all the nerve,” Eric said as he marched back into the student kitchen.
“What happened? Atley turn you down?” Larissa asked still sitting on the counter where Eric left her.
“No, I didn’t even make it there. Some person---some rapscallion---took the sandwich. My sandwich!” Eric said as he slammed the plate onto the counter.
Larissa smirked. “Rapscallion?”
“It’s not funny, Lar. I was walking through the dorms and this sandwich thief, a very hot sandwich thief---totally not the point, but still---walked out of his room, said thanks and took my sandwich. Damn hot sandwich thief.”
“Okay, but that’s kinda funny… especially since you mentioned he was hot, like twice.”
“If I ever see him again, he’ll rue the day,” Eric said.
“As God is your witness?”
“Oh, hush!” Eric replied as he took out more sandwich fixins’ from one of the fridges.
Three weeks later, Eric had yet to see Mr. Hot Sandwich Thief, and he still had the mind to go right on up to his dorm room and demand an apology.
Still, he felt silly holding on to a grudge this long, especially for a harmless prank. But, still, still! If he ever just bumped into Mr. Hot Sandwich Thief serendipitously, he’d give him a piece of his mind.
Eric walked into classroom 329, and frowned when he noticed most of the seats were taken. There was one in the middle of the room, which wasn’t too bad. He hated sitting far back in a classroom. And, he really couldn’t complain. He was just thankful that Professor Atley took the bribe---nay, the persuasion---and let Eric join the Women, Food and American Culture class.
He happily walked over toward the empty seat and asked the person next to the chair, “Is anyone sitting here?”
“No. No one is sitting here.”
When the person looked up at Eric, they both froze.
“Well, well, well,” Eric said as stunned blue eyes gazed at him. “If it isn’t Mr. Ho---Mr. Sandwich Thief himself.”
The guy fidgeted in his seat as Eric sat down.
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“What do you have to say for yourself? Defiling a perfectly innocent sandwich in that way?” Eric asked as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“It was really good?”
“Yeah, you said that.”
“And I have no excuse…”
“And?” Eric demanded.
“And I… just really wanted to talk to you but didn’t know how. So I panicked. I’m sorry I stole your sandwich.”
“Oh,” Eric said dumbfounded. “Oh.”
“Um… hi. I’m Jack, by the way. Jack Zimmermann.”
He looked over at Jack and how awkward and sweet he looked. Eric couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh boy, you are going to be trouble, aren’t you? You charmer.”
ERIC + JACK
“So how did you two meet?” George asked Eric at the Falconers’ monthly family skate. “College, right?”
A line of children zipped past them as they laughed. Eric and Jack waved at one extra enthusiastic tiny skater who smiled brightly at them.
Jack put his arm around Eric. “Go ahead, you tell it. You tell it better than I do.”
“Jack stole my sandwich,” Eric replied as he wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist.
George laughed. “He what?”
“Jack stole my sandwich,” Eric said again as Jack nodded.
“It’s true, I stole his sandwich.”
“This one was so shy. He had a crush on me and didn’t know how to talk to me, so one day I was walking through his dorm building just as he was walking out of his room, and I had a sandwich on a plate---”
“He was going to bribe a professor,” Jack added.
Eric waved him off. “And this man took my sandwich.”
George laughed again. “Jack, no!”
“Right?” Eric said as he beamed at his goofy husband.
Jack leaned in to press a kiss onto Eric’s temple, as Eric smiled and squeezed Jack tighter.
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Summary: Five vignettes of Zimbits fluff while they are vacationing in a cabin. Short and sweet. I wrote this on vacation out in the woods on my cell (I hate typing on my phone) so I'm sure there's a typo or two in here. It was beta'd by a squirrel, after all. Also on AO3...
I.
Bitty sat upon a small slope on a rock at the water’s edge. He looked back over his shoulder and could see Jack on the hammock chair which swung gently from a large pine tree on the bluff. Jack's eyes closed slowly as the sun shone on his face.
Bitty turned his attention back toward the water and could see tiny fish nibbling at the surface, one curious enough at Bitty's movement above to flutter nearby. Bitty smiled as it swam quickly away, that's when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. It was a tiny frog. Golden grey with specks of black. An olive green stripe ran from her eye down her side.
“Oh, hello,” Bitty said as the small creature sat perfectly still. Bitty dipped his fingertip in the cool lake then slowly and gently pet the frog's back. Bitty beamed and wished he could trap a fly to offer his new friend.
He opened the notebook he had with him and quickly drew a sketch of the frog. He raised his notebook and called out, “Look!”
Jack opened his eyes and smiled.
Bitty studied the frog and watched as she breathed in and out. He looked out toward the lake and spotted a bigger fish as it swam back and forth.
Just then Jack's feet appeared on his rock. He lowered himself down next to Bitty and sat with a small, “Oof.”
“Look, she’s mine. I named her.”
“Her name is Mine?” Jack said with a smirk.
“Oh, hush! Her name is Olive and if you wet your fingertip like this… you can rub her back. See?”
Jack watched smiling.
“You wanna try?”
“No, I'm okay.”
Bitty heard a camera shutter click and saw that Jack had his lens aimed right at Bitty.
“You're so beautiful,” Jack said softly as he took another picture.
Bitty smiled and watched the waves lap against the rocks.
II.
“I can't believe you've never had Jiffy Pop.”
Jack wrinkled his nose. “It seems full of chemicals.”
“That's hardly the point, sweetheart.”
Bitty sat in front of the fire pit and held onto a Jiffy Pop container with a long pair of BBQ tongs.
“The wrapper says it's not for campfire use,” Jack warned as he read the discarded label.
Bitty began shaking the container back and forth furiously. “That's a lie! I'm sure it'll be fine.”
Jack stood by, arms across his chest, and watched as Bity shook harder. He then reached for his phone and began to record the ordeal.
“I can hear it sizzling!”
“Uh-huh,” Jack replied zooming in closer.
After a few minutes, the entire thing caught fire, which caused Jack and Bitty to both shriek.
Bitty got up, blew on it repeatedly and finally flung it onto the ground and stomped on it. Jack laughed so hard, he doubled over.
Bitty huffed out a breath and calmly asked, “Who wants s’mores?”
III.
Jack watched Bitty sleep soundly and snuggle into the soft blanket with a gentle sigh. Jack was itching to explore but didn't have the heart to wake him. He made a pot of coffee, slipped on his gym shoes, and quietly left the cabin.
Jack walked down the gravel path toward the dock which remained quiet as everyone else on the grounds clearly followed Bitty’s game plan.
He found a small dock off the main path. The sun began to shine in earnest and Jack took a hearty sip of coffee and admired the view and tranquility.
He noticed a group of tiny frogs sitting on a rock. He got down on his haunches and smiled.
“Any of you Olive?”
The frogs all jumped in different directions and dispersed.
He smiled and walked over to a small wooden square of what appeared to be an old segment of discarded dock. It tilted into the water and bobbed slightly.
Jack stepped on it gingerly and took a step closer toward the edge. That's when it happened. He felt his feet begin to slip on the slick, mossy wood closest to the lake. His movements were exaggerated and almost cartoonish as he tried to take a step back but instead just felt his feet give out from under him. He squeaked as he went down, landing with both feet in the lake as his bottom slid down to meet his feet.
Miraculously, his coffee remained in the mug. He sighed and pulled himself up and trudged back toward the cabin.
“You went for a swim?” Bitty asked with confusion as he sat up, groggily in bed. “Without me?”
Jack frowned then laughed as he proceeded to toe out of his soaking wet gym shoes.
IV.
The Perseid meteor shower was taking place over the next few evenings. Jack and Bitty made their way in the dark of the night to the main dock, aided only by a small flashlight. The dock was unobstructed by trees and offered a wide view of the sky above.
Jack had been looking forward to the shower all week.
“I've seen the Northern Lights plenty of times, but never a meteor shower.”
“I haven't seen anything,” Bitty replied ruefully as they ate lunch earlier that day.
“We’ll remedy that soon enough, Bits,” Jack said as he bit into his PBJ and squeezed Bitty’s hand.
Bitty beamed.
So, they spread out on that deck, supine, and drank in the stars overhead which in turn spread out vast and warm, like a velvet blanket above. And everything was silent, save for their breathing and the sound of one lone night swimmer braving the cold lake waters.
“The Big Dipper looks so clear,” Bitty said joyfully.
“I wonder how long till we see something?” Jack asked quietly.
The two waited patiently, shoulder to shoulder, leg grazing leg, foot touching foot.
“There!” Bitty cried out as a zip of white shot across the sky and dissolved into the darkness.
“So cool…” Jack whispered. “One more!”
They counted 17 meteors, after that they simply intertwined their fingers and counted some more, feeling both the enormity of the world around them and like the only two people alive.
V.
Bitty loved burrowing into Jack’s wide chest. He’d snuggle his face in Jack’s hair and breathed in the scent of him, letting himself melt into the safety of his presence.
Jack’s warm laughter would reverberate through his chest and ring into Bitty’s ear pressed firmly against him.
Whether it was back at Providence, Madison, Samwell or even in a tiny cabin in the boundary waters, Bitty felt all the love Jack offered and gave him freely each and every day, in every way and possible.
The night sounds of rattling trees and exploratory squirrels rang just outside their windows.
Jack pressed a kiss to Bitty’s forehead but Bitty instantly wanted more---needed more and reached his lips up to meet Jack's. And Jack happily, and greedily, received them and he welcomed Bitty, as he would every night again and again, both feeling the enormity of the world around them and like the only two people alive.
A small Zimbits fic. I had this idea of Jack probably not having had the chance to experience a lot of things during his childhood that most kids did. Bitty helps change that. Also on AO3...
Their plans for a date by the WaterFire had come to a screeching halt when neither Bitty nor Jack had bothered to see that the forecast called for heavy rain, all day, and the next day as well. So they stayed inside, not sure what they would end up doing.
By mid-afternoon, they had watched two movies, fooled around quite a bit, ate almost an entire extra large pizza, fooled around some more, and Bitty reorganized the kitchen while Jack alphabetized his DVD collection.
“Okay, this is nuts. I am so bored, honey, I’m actually contemplating going outside,” Bitty sighed.
Jack looked out the enormous apartment windows. “It doesn’t look like it’s letting up, and you might get swept away.”
Bitty smirked. He strolled around the living room and plopped down on the couch. “How about we play some cards? Go Fish? Old Maid? War?”
“I’ve never played any of those,” Jack replied with a tiny shrug.
“How? Those are, like, childhood staples. Next, you’re going to say you’ve never made a pillow fort,” Bitty said with a small laugh.
Jack stared at him quietly.
“Sweetpea? You can’t be serious,” Bitty said with wide eyes.
Jack blushed. “I… I didn’t do many sleepovers when I was a kid or had many kids over. And, with my anxiety—a pillow fort wasn’t exactly the most soothing thing.”
Bitty’s face fell.
“Cramped, dark spaces…” Jack said as he fiddled with his fingers, and shrugged once again.
Bitty jumped up from the couch to hug Jack. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Bits. There were just some things I couldn’t do when I was a kid,” Jack replied as Bitty settled into his arms.
“Well, I think we should change that,” Bitty said and looked up at Jack with bright eyes.
“Oh?”
“Let’s build a fort right now!”
Jack smiled, “Right now? Where?”
Bitty pointed at the couch. “We have an excellent couch with a ton of pillows and cushions, and the coffee table is perfect.”
Jack eyed the couch skeptically. “Will we fit?”
“Of course, sweetpea. Go and bring two chairs from the dining room. I’ll go get a sheet from the bedroom.”
Bitty ran out of the living as Jack smiled. He thought the day would never come when Bitty would cease to amaze him.
He took two chairs from the dining room and returned just as Bitty rushed back carrying four pillows from their bed, Señor Bun, a comforter, and one sheet. He wobbled like a penguin as he held everything.
“You got it there, bud?”
“Uh-huh,” he replied and released a whooshing breath and let everything fall on the floor.
“So what’s our blueprint look like, Bits? Do we need to call for a building permit?”
Bitty smirked, “Dad joke. No, I’ve got this totally under control.”
Bitty pulled the coffee table a few feet away from the couch, then lined up the two chairs on opposite ends. He placed the downy comforter on the floor in between the couch and coffee table and plopped their bedroom pillows onto the comforter. He then ran to the kitchen. Jack watched, mesmerized.
Bitty returned with an enormous bowl of popcorn, a large water bottle, and a bag of marshmallows tucked under his arm. He placed them on the comforter, walked over and gingerly took Bun and sat him on top. He left the room again and came back with a flashlight, a book, and a deck of cards.
“How’s it going? Do I need to call OSHA to make sure this building site is safe?”
“Boooo!” Bitty said as he laughed. “So you take the couch cushions and lean them against the chairs. See? They’ll be additional supporting walls. They can stand erect and not fall over easily.”
“Erect, huh?” Jack said with a smirk.
Bitty shook his head, held up a finger and said, “Just one more thing and then we’re ready to move in.”
He took the navy blue bed sheet, shook it open and draped it across the couch, coffee table, and chairs. It drifted downward slowly and settled into place as the fort’s makeshift roof.
“After you, kind sir,” Bitty said motioning toward the fort.
“Will, euh, I fit?” Jack asked as he crouched down on all fours, lifted the sheet and peered inside.
“Your ass isn’t that big, mister,” Bitty said as he joined Jack. “Here, let me go in first.” He pushed against Jack and crawled in. Jack watch the bottoms of Bitty’s feet as they disappeared inside.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” He called from within the fort.
Jack crawled in, and his eyes adjusted to the soft light inside.
“Welcome to Fort Bun. This is our host, Señor Bunny.”
Jack shimmied next to Bitty, settled on his tummy and propped onto his elbows, mimicking Bitty.
“Well, what do you think of our new humble abode?”
Jack took an appreciative look around. “I love it.”
“Uh-huh! We have food, we have music,” Bitty said as he pulled out his phone, “and we have entertainment. Should we read a book or play cards?”
“How about cards?” Jack said as he reached for the deck which sat in front of him. “You can teach me to play Old Fish.”
“Old Fish? Lord, man. Sometimes I wonder if you say things on purpose to try to make me apoplectic.”
Jack laughed and handed Bitty the cards.
They spent the rest of the day inside the fort. They played War, had a tag-team round of Solitaire, they ate popcorn and more pizza after Bitty crawled out to bring the box inside. They kissed and kissed some more, and Bitty read Crazy Rich Asians to Jack while he held their tiny flashlight.
And when they realized it was well into the night, they both decided it was time to dismantle the fort and head to the bedroom.
“Aw, I kinda want to leave it up,” Bitty said as he got up and stretched in the living room.
Jack’s yawn turned into a wide smile, “Well, we don’t have to take it down if we don’t want to, bud.”
“Really?” Bitty said as he pressed up onto his toes and gave Jack a sweet, small kiss.
Jack’s eyes fluttered shut as he let himself melt into it. He wrapped his arms around Bitty’s waist and once again realized how incredibly lucky he was to have this glorious human being in his life. Bitty constantly gave Jack the world, and now he had even managed to give Jack a bit of the childhood he never knew he always wanted. How did ever truly smile before Bitty?
“It can stay up overnight if you want… or,” Jack began.
“Or?”
Jack leaned down and nuzzled Bitty’s neck. It smelled like home. “Or we can have a sleepover. You know, since I never really had one of those either.”
Bitty laughed, bright and lovely, “I’ll go get the sleeping bags, you clear out that pizza box!”
“You’re on,” Jack said and crawled back into the fort.
Jack is a hairy dude. Body hair is natural. But sometimes a dude wants to choose where he has hair and where he doesn’t and that’s okay too.
[very tiny little headcanon thing, behind a cut only in case shaving/body hair grosses some folks out)
Jack ‘yeeps!’ as Bitty’s fingers smear the cream over his sides, setting Bitty off in another fit of giggles.
“Will you stop making that cute sound?! We’re gonna get it all over the tiles again!”
“Why is it so much colder there?? It feels fine on my neck and shoulders!”
He’s standing buck naked in the master bath while Bitty is in his sleep clothes of Falcs shirsey and boxers.
Bitty plops a dollop over Jack’s “lil’ tail” at the very base of his spine and calls “all done!”. He washes his hands, wipes up the spillage, sets a timer and scolds Jack for putting his arms back too far and smudging his handiwork.
“It’s starting to crinkle, Bits! Look!”
“I still say this isn’t great for your skin, hon. Please let me book you in for a waxing next time!”
Jack pouts at Bitty in the mirror where he’s twisted around.
“I like doing this with you, though. Maybe you could wax me?”
Bitty resolutely shakes his head. “Uh-uh! I’ve seen some nasty ingrown hairs and rashes on Youtube from bad home waxings. Trust me, the professionals know what they’re doin’. And you wouldn’t have to do it as often!”
“Since when is hair removal something you watch videos about?” Jack smirks, rubbing at Bitty’s down that’s just beginning to show on his chin.
“Since you first asked me to Veet you!” Bitty returns, grabbing a wash cloth from the bathroom cupboard. “Rans does Holster’s back for him so he sent me a few.”
Jack shakes his head fondly. Those two have a scary number of intimate rituals similar to those he has with Bitty.
“Holster was the one who sent me the ingrown hairs videos and I had to put a stop to that sharpish.” Bitty shudders. “I originally wanted to ask your mom since you clearly get this from your dad, but I figured you’d kick up a fuss.”
“Yes! Thank you!” Jack yells, eyes comically alarmed.
Bitty whistles low and leans a hip against the bathroom counter. “Hoo boy though, if you ever decided to go au naturale. That shirtless photoshoot he did in the 80s with the unbuttoned jeans? All that glorious, dark, oiled up hair, right up to his shoulders… “
Jack’s gusts out a sigh of relief when the timer interrupts Bitty’s reverie.
Bitty goes quiet as always, tongue poking out slightly and relishing in dragging the little scraper over the muscular planes of Jack’s shoulders.
“Gotta say though, there’s a part of me that’d miss getting to do this.”
He makes two more swipes, down over Jack’s lil’ tail, and gives his handiwork a passing over with the washcloth.
“Alright, mister! You go on an’ shower,” Bitty picks up the white and gold tube that sits next to Jack’s shaving cream. “Time for me to have my shave!” he giggles, waving it around.
Jack blows him a kiss and steps behind the glass door, moving slowly and languidly because Bitty is looking.
As Bitty rolls the head of the little shaver over his chin, he recalls a time, long ago, when he had begun to fear he’d never have more of a beard or moustache to shave than his Aunt Judy.
Then the reality of makeup over stubble and razor burn made itself known on the other boys in the figure skating program, and Bitty never regretted his own baby smooth chops ever again.
