Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Good, no one's getting to second base up here," Bitty muttered to himself as he rounded the top of the stairs. The warm buzz of tub juice had him a bit off kilter, but not fully drunk yet. Still, it wasn't a good idea to have his phone in hand with easy access to Twitter when he was at all tipsy. 

Still… he had the urge to scream out loud - he'd met Kent Parson! And drunk + screaming on Twitter usually lead to embarrassment the next morning. 

Two low voices leaked out of Jack's room as Bitty reached for his doorknob. He wiggled it, but it wouldn't open. Oh right, Jack had told him to lock up. Where had he put that damn key?

"Kenny!" 

Bitty froze. 

"- Zimms just stop thinking for once and listen to me. I'll tell the GMs you're on board and they can free up cap space. Then you can be done with this shitty team. You and me -"

"Get out."

"- Jack."

"You can't - you don't come to my fucking school unannounced -"

"Because you shut me out!" 

"- and corner me in my room -"

"I'm trying to help!"

"- and expect me to do whatever you want -"

"Fuck, Jack! What do you want me to say? That I miss you? I miss you, okay?" There was a pause. Bitty's feet were glued to the floor. He knew he should turn and walk away, but he couldn't move. "I miss you."

Jack's voice was soft and broken when he nearly whispered. "You always say that."

"Huh… well, shit, okay. You know what Zimmerman? You think you're too fucked up to care about? That you're not good enough? Everyone already knows what you are, but it's people like me that still care."

"Shut up…"

"You're scared everyone else is gonna find out you're worthless, right? Oh, don't worry! Just give it a few seasons, Jack, trust me." 

"G-Get out of my room."

"Fine. Shut me out again."

"And stay - stay away from my team."

"Why? Afraid I'll tell them something?"

"Leave, Parse!"

Bitty fumbled his key as the door shot open and his heart pounded up into his throat, adrenaline spiking. He tripped down to his knees to grab it and tilted his face up to find Kent Parson and Jack standing in Jack's doorway. That… what he'd heard… it didn't mean what he thought it did, did it?

Parse cleared his throat and stepped around Bitty where he was still curled on the floor, twisted up with mortification. "Yeah, well, call me if you reconsider or whatever. But good luck with the Falconers. I'm sure that'll make your dad proud." Parse thumped down the stairs.

"J-" Bitty started, but Jack turned away without looking at him and slammed his door.

Bitty stood in the hallway, heart pounding, his key clutched in his hands. Shitty had warned him away from talking to Jack about Parse, and now he could see why. That was - that was awful! How could Parse say those things, tell Jack he's worthless? 

Indignation flushed in, hot and bitter, and replaced Bitty's humiliation. How dare - He shoved his phone back in one pocket and the key in the other and stomped off after Parse.

Ransom was standing by the bottom of the stairs. 

"Did you see which way Kent Parson went?" Bitty asked, trying to keep the rage out of his voice.

Ransom gestured towards the kitchen. Bitty marched off that way, but Parse wasn't in the kitchen. The back door was open, though. 

The yard was surprisingly quiet. Shitty's tub juice had drawn most of the outside people to the front, and the back was dark and hard to navigate at night. A few people were chatting on the deck, but Parse wasn't with them. Bitty had almost given up, when he saw a flash of white from the back of the yard, out by the lone tree. Bitty took a deep breath, squared up and marched across the lawn, adrenaline, frustration, and a copious volume of mystery alcohol giving him courage he didn't usually possess.

Parson was sitting on the grass, leaned back against the tree.

"Kent Parson, what on earth gives you the right -" Bitty cut himself off. 

Parse was staring straight ahead at the fence of the neighbour's yard, jaw clenched, but unmistakably visible in the moonlight was a single tear rolling down his cheek. He looked up at Bitty, almost distractedly, then wiped it away with his sleeve. "What?" His voice was flat, inflectionless.

Bitty hovered there, all the wind out of his sails. When he didn't speak, Parse gave him a studious look, eyes raking down him. "Heard all that, did you?" he asked.

"Um. Yes." Bitty wrapped his arms around his middle. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Jack sounded upset and well…"

"Yeah." Parse pulled off his hat and ran his fingers back through his hair. "Historically, I'm pretty good at that. Making Jack sound upset." He jammed his hat back on his head. "You come out to beat me up?" He gave Bitty another once over. "Cause no offence, man, but I think I could take you. Not that I don't deserve it, but you should probably save yourself the bruised knuckles."

"Oh, um. No. I mean, I'm not the beat up kind of guy. Came out to give you a piece of my mind, actually."

"Be the first piece in here." He tapped his finger against the side of his head. "Fuck," he breathed. "You know when you practice something all out in your head and it sounds perfect and then you get in front of the person and it all just falls to shit?"

Bitty thought about all the times he'd tried to tell his parents he was gay. He nodded.

"Yeah… Don't worry. I'll drop gloves next game and let someone get a good swing in. Save you the trouble."

"For goodness sake," Bitty snapped. "You're really going to sit around, back here, feeling sorry for yourself, and planning your -" he spluttered, looking for the word "- penance on ice, when you could be up there apologizing to Jack? Look, if what you said wasn't what you meant to say… maybe you should try again?"

Parse's head smacked back against the tree and his eyes drifted closed. "I've been trying again for like… years now. I don't -" His eyes snapped open again and narrowed at Bitty. "What was your name again?"

"Um. Eric Bittle."

"Right. Right. You're across the hall. Jack's mentioned you." Parse tapped the ground next to him. "Pull up some lawn, Bits."

Bitty sunk down, crossing his legs.

"I've basically made it my life's work to piss Jack off. Can't believe he ever lets me in again at all, after all the shit I've said."

"You guys have - um - known each other since the Q? Shitty said you used to be best friends."

Parse gave Bitty a sharp look, as if he could read his mind, read past "known" into a deeper question. One Bitty didn't have the right to ask but wanted to, desperately. "Yeah. Two dumb teenagers. Making dumb teenager mistakes. It was mostly awful, we were bad for each other, but… I still miss him. I came here to try and convince him to join the Aces. I don't know why. Thought maybe we could try again, older and wiser… and sober, and see if we could figure it out this time."

The way Parse's voice softened and cracked, not around the "miss" but around "him." It was a pain Bitty knew. Kent was in love with Jack. He didn't know if he was right in wondering if something more… intimate had happened between them back in their teammate days - it was honestly a complete shock to consider that Jack could be anything other than entirely straight - but the look in Kent's eyes right now? Bitty knew that look. 

"If you said it wrong the first time, maybe you should say again until you get it right?"

Kent let out a broken bark of a laugh. "Maybe you should say it for me," he muttered.

"I mean, if you're too scared," Bitty hummed softly, an edge of challenge woven in.

"Do these idiots really fall for that kind of thing?" Kent asked, jerking his thumb back towards the house. But the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile.

Bitty dropped his chin to his hand, resting his elbow on his knee. "All the time." He batted his eyelashes. "And then they get pie when they're good."

"Well, shit. If there's gonna be pie." Kent suddenly pushed up to his feet then held out a hand to Bitty. Bitty took it, and Kent pulled him up too, then his smile shifted into a smirk. "Promise there'll be pie?" He still had that confident swagger that had followed him into the Haus, but in the soft moonlight, Bitty could see his nerves too. And Bitty had never particularly trusted his gaydar, but no straight boy had ever leaned in and looked into his eyes like that.

"Promise," Bitty managed to squeak out.

"Alright." Kent took in a deep breath then let it out in a rush. "If Jack chews me up and spits me out in pieces, just pour me into a cab and send me back to Boston, alright? I'll find the airport."

"Just maybe… tell him what you told me?" Bitty patted him on the shoulder.

Kent caught his wrist as Bitty pulled away and held it for a moment, his intense eyes fixed on Bitty's face. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Bits." He released his wrist and stuck his hands deep in his pockets then marched off towards the house.

**

Bitty didn't see Jack or Kent for the rest of the party. Jack's door remained firmly shut and Bitty didn't see Kent's cab show up or his snapback floating around amongst the crowd. Bitty cleaned up the last of the stragglers and sent them to bed then climbed up to his own room. He leaned a little towards Jack's room, but it was silent and dark. He yearned to knock, talk to him, find out how it went, but he didn't want to wake Jack up if he was asleep, so Bitty turned back to his own room, found his key without trouble this time, and went to bed.

In the morning, Bitty got dressed and shuffled downstairs to start baking the cookie dough he'd mixed up before the party. They were actually a version of snickerdoodles but the Haus had dubbed the recipe "Hangover Cookies" after the first time Bitty had made them post-kegster, and both the name and the tradition had stuck.

When he walked into his kitchen, however, it wasn't empty.

"Kent?"

Kent looked up from where he'd been flopped over the kitchen table, his chair tipping ominously. "Huh? Oh. Hey, Bits. Morning."

"I thought you left."

"Nope. Didn't leave." He blinked at the room for a moment then dug his phone out of his pocket and yawned at that.

"Oh. So, um -" Bitty went to the fridge to give his hands something to do and pulled out the rolled tube of cookie dough, wrapped in plastic wrap. He set it on the counter and took out a cutting board. "Jack wouldn't let you back in last night, huh? I'm really sor-" 

The back door clicked open and Jack walked in, shorts and running shoes on and a white bakery bag in his hand. "They didn't have sprinkles, Kenny, you're just going to have to live with it," he announced. Then he seemed to notice Bitty was there, stopping abruptly. "Oh. Good morning, Bittle."

Bitty cut his gaze over to Kent who was grinning like a cat with both cream and a canary. Oh. Jack had let Kent in last night. And he hadn't left. Bitty tried to be happy for him, tried to summon every ounce of southern hospitality from deep in his marrow to be welcoming to Kent, but, good lord, did it ever hurt. He'd always thought Jack was off the table because of his sexuality, but it wasn't that. It was just… Bitty. He wasn't right, wasn't what Jack wanted, and Kent was. Who could blame him? Kent was gorgeous, funny, confident, and the current highest scorer in the NHL. Heat sprung to life at the back of BItty's eyes and he spun sharply back to Bessie. He set her to preheat and bent to rattle around in the bottom drawer for a baking sheet.

He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't. Jack was happy, that was what mattered. It wasn't like Bitty had a shot anyway. Jack'd had over a year and hadn't made a move, so fine, Bitty wasn't his type. And Kent was. They were talking softly to each other but Bitty focused on his cookies, playing Seasons of Love in his head while he worked to block them out. Once they were in the oven, Bitty set a timer on his phone and marched towards the door. "Better get started on clean up!" he announced to the room at large, then made a dash for the storage closet upstairs. 

He started with the bathroom, and just as he was finishing, Shitty woke up and began the tiresome work of turning out the stragglers who had passed out on the floor, furniture, and in the tub. Bitty could hear the frogs' excited cry of "Kent Parson is still here!" as they tumbled downstairs and into the kitchen.

When the timer went off, Bitty couldn't ignore the main floor anymore, but when he shuffled down the stairs, he was relieved to find that Kent and Jack were both in the living room with the others. Bitty silently transferred the cookies to a cooling rack and popped in a second batch. His need to share overcame his need to protect his own heart, so a few minutes later, he piled the finished cookies on a plate and carried them into the living room, but Kent was standing, fixing his hat on his head, getting ready to go. 

"I'll walk you out," Jack said to him and Kent nodded. The frogs clamored around him, shaking his hand and wishing him luck in the second half of the season. Bitty hung on the edge of the group with his plate of cookies, stuck in the tortuous position of having had what was actually a rather personal talk with Kent last night - under different circumstances, he would have called it bonding - but Kent was also responsible, inadvertently, for breaking his already cracked heart.

But when Kent walked over to him to say goodbye, Bitty plastered a smile on. "Cookie?"

"Thanks." Kent took one and bit into it. His moan was verging on obscene. "Wow. Those are amazing. You still owe me a pie, right?" He winked.

Bitty nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"Seriously, Bits. Thanks. Better than any pep talk I've had in the locker room." He held his hand out for a fist bump, and Bitty had a moment of intense fanboy fluster when he knocked their knuckles together. "See ya."

Bitty set the cookies on the coffee table and the hungover boys descended on them. Jack opened the door for Kent and they walked out together. Bitty wasn't sure what made him do it. Maybe he needed the closure of knowing for sure what had happened last night, maybe he just wanted to punish himself, dig the knife in a little deeper, or maybe it was just the relentless curiosity that had him eavesdropping in the first place, but he chose to pick up the bag of cans and bottles he'd collected earlier and take it out onto the porch, following a moment after Kent and Jack.

Sure enough, Kent was in his car and Jack was folded around the driver's side window. He had his arm rested on the top and his head ducked down until it was practically inside. They were both talking, too low for Bitty to hear, but their smiles were undeniable. The street was quiet and clear, and Jack looked across the road for a second then snuck a tiny, quick kiss from Kent.

Bitty dropped the bag of recycling on the porch and slipped back inside. The boys were still busy eating, so he went to the kitchen, pulled the baked cookies out of the oven and turned her off. He left the cookies on the baking sheet, on top of the stove, not caring that they'd stick. He tossed his oven mitts on the counter, turned tail and fled, needing to be in his room before Jack came back inside.

**

Bitty barely saw Jack before he was bustling off to the airport the next day. He seemed in a good mood, which Bitty couldn't help but be glad for, as much as he hated the reason why. Laden with his packed - overpacked - suitcase, Bitty ran into Jack in the hall on his way out. "Have a good break, Bittle." Jack gave him a bright, honest smile.

"You too, Jack!" Bitty waved and made to thump awkwardly down the stairs with his suitcase, but Jack stepped forward and grabbed the handle. His extra foot of height made it easy for him to carry the heavy bag to the bottom. Bitty stood by the door with Jack watching him from the hall and tried to summon something to say, but he couldn't think of anything.

He hoped the note he'd left in Jack's bag along with a package of cookies would say a little bit of what he couldn't.

**  

Going back to Georgia for winter break was a mix of wonderful and painful. The nostalgia of going home was always a pleasant warmth in Bitty's chest but he was someone else in Georgia, someone tangential to Eric Bittle, but not quite right. He unpacked his suitcase into his old closet, shoving more than just his clothes into the back, and went downstairs to cook with his mama. 

The two weeks went by in a blur of family dinners, church potlucks, and Christmas parties. Before Bitty knew it, he was back on the plane, headed to Samwell, with four days before classes would start again. When he dragged his suitcase back in through the front door, his keys dangling from his fingers, he found the Haus already full.

Chowder was vibrating on the couch and nearly exploded when Bitty walked in. "Kent Parson is here!" he exclaimed.

"Oh. Hi, Kent."

"Hey, Bits." Kent was sprawled across an armchair, his foot close enough to Jack's shoulder where he sat kitty corner on the couch that it was almost touching. Bitty cut his eyes over to Jack who smiled at him then pushed to his feet and crossed the room to stop two feet from Bitty, hands in his pockets. 

"Welcome home."

"Thanks, Jack."

Jack nodded towards his suitcase. "Need a hand?"

"Yes. Thanks, honey." Bitty gratefully let Jack lug the damn suitcase up the stairs. He'd carted it all over the airport with one wobbly wheel and he was just about out of steam. Jack handed the suitcase back at the doorway, and Bitty hefted it up onto the bed and unzipped it. He pulled out the baking dish and the silpat mat his Mama had given him for Christmas and carried them back downstairs with him, leaving his laundry to be future Bitty's problem. After all, he had the whole weekend to wear pajama pants and Jack's Samwell t-shirt he stole before break before he needed clothes for class and hockey practice.

He put his new kitchen supplies in the cupboard over the microwave and joined the rest of the gang in the living room. "How was break?"

Everyone chimed up with their experiences. Bitty claimed an arm of the couch, realizing a moment too late that it put him in the spot that had been occupied by Jack's shoulder earlier. Kent's foot was hanging only a few inches from his hand.

When the stories were done - including a few from Bitty himself - Kent bumped his hand with the toe of his shoe. "We were going to play this game I got for Christmas."

"A game?" Bitty looked towards the TV automatically.

"Nah, it's a board game."

"Were we going to play it?" Lardo asked, quirking an eyebrow. "The box says it takes like four hours to play."

Bitty peered over the coffee table towards where she gestured and saw an enormous box with dragons drawn all over the sides. 

"Best four hours of your life," Kent quipped. Then he smirked. "Well… second best for some."

Bitty bit his lip as Jack choked indelicately on his cranberry juice, but no one else seemed to notice. "It's already pretty late," Bitty said loudly, patting Jack on the back. 

"You got somewhere to be tomorrow? It's still break."

"Don't you have a game on Saturday?" Bitty shot back. Kent shrugged.

"I'd love to play," Chowder said, vibrating with excitement where he sat cross-legged on the floor. He pressed his palms together in front of him. "I don't have anywhere to be."

Lardo patted his knee. "We know. Shitty?"

Bitty turned to look at Shitty who was crammed in the other armchair, opposite Kent. He hadn't said anything since Bitty arrived so he hadn't really given him a second look, but now that he was, he could see that Shitty was deeply focused on two needles and a ball of lurid green yarn in his lap. His tongue was stuck between his teeth on one side, and, in a feat of physics, a joint stuck out of the other. "Shitty… are you knitting?"

He nodded solemnly then set the whole mess of yarn and needles down in his lap. He took the joint out and snubbed it in an ashtray by his elbow. "Making a dictionary cozy for my mom, bro. She gave birth to me. Least I can do."

They all stared at him for a moment, then Jack nodded. "Nice."

Lardo poked him in the ankle. "Will you play, though?"

"Sure."

It took two beers, almost forty-five minutes, and a quick break to start brownies baking, for Kent to explain the rules and for everyone to pick characters. The goal, it seemed, was for all of them to work as a team, against the board, to collect treasure and defeat monsters.

Bitty picked an archer character with a red panda friend that traveled with him, Jack chose a wizard. Kent's character was something he described as a "battlemage." Lardo was an enormous warrior who she said had "more muscles than sense." Shitty picked a mysterious ranger who had red eyes and fur lining her cloak. Chowder changed his mind no less than eight times, and didn't settle until Kent grabbed a character card at random and put it in front of him.

"There. You're a necromancer vampire. Don't bite your teammates unless they're already dead. Let's go!" Kent clapped his hands together and started collecting handfuls of dice.

Once Bitty figured out the flow of the game, it was actually pretty fun. As a team, they stormed the dungeon, fighting off a gang of skeletons with bows and a few lurking blob creatures. The closer they got to the treasure at the end, the tenser everyone became.

"No! Chowder!" Kent dropped his face in his hands. "If you'd attacked this demon first, Bits could have taken out the other one on his first attack. Now he's going to get hit by both of them."

"Oh no!" Chowder scraped his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, Bitty."

"It's okay," Bitty said through gritted teeth. "Maybe I'll roll really well."

"Demon goes first. It's Shitty's turn to roll for the monsters." Kent tossed him the dice. 

Shitty grimaced, shook the dice, blew on them, made Jack blow on them, then rolled.

"Oh, bless your heart," Bitty grumbled.

"Bitty's mad now!" Chowder proclaimed.

Kent did the math. "Two hit points left, Bits."

Shitty rolled again, but this one was a miss. Bitty took the dice. The tension was palpable, everyone leaning forward to see what he was going to roll. He tossed the handful of dice on the table and there was a moment of held breath while everyone did the math. 

"You did it!" Lardo yelped, getting there first. "Nailed it!"

"Demon down!" Kent swiped it off the board, making Bitty laugh.

By the time they took the final treasure, Bitty was three beers in and feeling tipsy. Everything was soft and easy and Jack's shoulder against his was warm and steady. With a cheer, Lardo rolled the last hit and took down the boss spider. Kent read out the end of the story and they all high-fived. 

"God, it's almost two in the morning. Bed everyone!" Bitty stood and started shooing Chowder towards the stairs. 

"Bittle's right. We have practice tomorrow," Jack said, hands on his hips. 

Kent laughed and plowed past Jack, headed for the stairs, and Jack drifted on after them. Bitty took the empty beer bottles to the kitchen then followed. The two boys were already in their room, but Bitty could hear the soft murmur of their voices behind the door. He took out his phone and composed a tweet while he brushed his teeth.

@omgcheckplease - 1s ago
Kent Parson is a secret dork @puckedup

He attached a picture of Kent rolling dice, bent over the board with a look of intense concentration on his face. He tucked his phone away, washed his face, then went back to his room where he pulled on boxers and Jack's t-shirt. He climbed into bed and was setting up his music to fall asleep to when his phone buzzed in his hand

@puckedup Retweeted your Tweet
That cave troll didn't know what hit him
        | Kent Parson is a secret dork @puckedup

It took Bitty a few minutes to realize he'd gotten stuck there, just smiling down at his phone.

Kent being sweet, funny, handsome, and kind made it a lot harder to stay mad at him for being with Jack.

**

Of course, Kent being sweet, funny, handsome, and kind, also made it really horribly easy to fall in love with him too.

By the time midterms were over, Bitty was in a constant state of tension in the Haus. Kent managed to find a shocking amount of time to visit, though it was usually only for a single night. No one else seemed to see anything between him and Jack, but Bitty had no doubt at all that they were dating. He always stayed in Jack's room despite Jack not having an air mattress, called Jack his best friend with this twist of humour in his voice, and a few times, Bitty had heard soft noises across the hall from Jack's room in the middle of the night when they would think everyone was asleep.

Worst of all, perhaps, was that they both seemed to see Bitty as some sort of social shield. Though there had been no hint of rumours or speculation about them - not even from Shitty and Lardo - Jack and Kent both had a habit of dropping Bitty in between them - figuratively and physically - to, presumably, avoid looking too coupley.

It snapped back and forth between wonderful and horrible, constantly third wheeling. Sharing the couch with Jack on one side and Kent on the other - Bitty squished up in the middle and vibrating, the tension between them near crushing even when they hadn't sent a glance each other's way in ages -was a unique brand of torture. 

On the bright side, Bitty had never spent so much time with Jack, and this new Jack who was lighter, happier, funnier than he had been before Kent. When Kent wasn't there, Jack turned to Bitty instead of hiding in his room. He'd signed up for the photography class he'd always wanted to take, and more often than not, Bitty caught him standing in weird places on campus snapping away at a duck or something. But he never seemed to mind Bitty interrupting him, and at least three mornings a week, they met at Annie's for coffee between Jack's first class and Bitty's.

The downside was that now Bitty knew that Jack was interested in men - short sassy blond men, no less - and for the first time, Bitty worried about what he was saying, how he was sitting, what his hands were doing. Jack had always seemed so utterly clueless about how Bitty felt about him that he never worried too much that he was being obvious with his feelings, but for some reason, Jack managing to have a successful relationship with Kent made it feel like Bitty would suddenly be an embarrassingly open book. It didn't make sense, but he couldn't help the anxiety that squirmed in his stomach when he realized he was leaning in too close, eyes going sappy and soft while Jack waxed poetic about morning light in Faber.

The other downside was that Bitty found himself in the middle of the good and the bad.

"Kenny, that's not true and you know it," Jack snapped angrily, and Bitty winced, wondering if it was worse to sit quietly and pretend he couldn't hear Jack out on the roof on his phone or close the window and give himself away while giving Jack his privacy. "No - tabarnak. Tu comprends ni du cul ni de la tête pis j'suis écoeuré de me répéter. No. No… Kenny… Yeah, okay, fine. I have to go study. No! I have to study, Parse. I'll talk to you later."

The roof fell silent and Bitty sat frozen in his chair, eyes fixed on his window frame. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel tension vibrating out from the roof. A second later, he heard a thump and a frustrated sigh from Jack, then it fell silent again.

Bitty waited, wondering if Jack was going to appear in his window - maybe to demand he tell him what he heard, maybe to look for comfort. A part of Bitty that he was entirely uncomfortable with wondered if they were breaking up and who Jack would turn to if they did. Not that he wanted to be a rebound, not at all, but with Kent out of the picture, maybe…

But then Kent would be out of Bitty's life too, and that was a surprisingly painful thought.

In the end, Bitty couldn't take the tension anymore. He unplugged his laptop, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and snuck downstairs. He stretched out on the couch and opened his laptop up to his course readings, forcing himself to focus on his schoolwork.

The Haus had long gone dead and quiet when a soft knock on the door startled Bitty out of his trance. He'd given up studying hours ago and had gotten sucked into reading comments on other channels' cooking videos, trawling for questions he could answer in his own videos and scouting out the competition. It was well after midnight, and he debated not answering the door at all, but the tentativeness of the knock made him push his laptop off his knees and stand. Maybe it was some poor, drunk freshman, looking for their dorm room.

He unlocked the door and opened it. "Kent."

Kent looked like he'd been run over a few times, hair and clothes rumbled, scowl deep enough to stay that way if he left it for a minute longer. He was only wearing a t-shirt and he had his arms crossed over his chest against the crispness of the winter air. "Hey, Bits," he mumbled. "Is Jack here?"

Bitty nodded. He sucked in a breath and tried not to let tears out with the exhale. He wanted Jack and Kent to be happy, he really did, and the Kent he'd met four months ago at the kegster wouldn't have driven for hours or hopped a plane or whatever he did to get here in the middle of the night and make up for a fight on the phone. 

"Think he'll let me in?"

Bitty stepped back, and Kent shuffled forward into the house. Bitty closed and locked the door behind him. "He'll let you in, honey." He reached out and gave Kent's wrist a reassuring squeeze. "If he's not in his room, he's on the roof. You can go out through the window in my room. Everyone else is in bed. And for goodness sakes, put on a sweater."

"Thanks," Kent breathed.

Bitty watched him tiptoe up the stairs, heart aching in a way he couldn't quite put words to.

**

"Hey guys! With Valentine's Day approaching, a lot of you have asked me what the best thing to bake for your sweetheart is, so today we're going to walk through making red velvet cheesecake. Careful if you're single (like me) though, since there's enough calories in each bite to fuel a whole line of D-men for two seasons, and you're gonna want to eat the whole thing yourself! Okay, first off, make sure you've softened the cream cheese…"

**

The ache didn't go away. Every time he saw Jack and Kent together, smiling and laughing and falling in love, Bitty's head spun. His attraction to both of them only seemed to quadruple when they were together and his jealousy and envy stacked and stacked until he felt like a tea kettle ready to squeal every time they were in the same room. 

Even when Kent wasn't there, it felt like Bitty's whole life was wrapped up in the two of them. Lardo confronted him on a Thursday afternoon as he packed his bag for class. "Is Parse, like, super into you?" she mused, leaning in his doorway, eyes on her phone.

"What?"

"He tweets about you a lot. Just wondering. Cause, like, props dude. Quite the catch."

"I'm - oh - uh - no? No. It's not like that. We're just friends. I'm -" Bitty dug his phone out and clicked through to Twitter. 

@puckedup - 34 minutes ago
Get you a man who can do both:

Parse had tweeted the caption, followed by two pictures side by side, one of Bitty asleep in an armchair in the living room, flopped sideways, mouth open and hair askew. The other was of him in the kitchen, bent level with the counter, tongue caught between his teeth as he tried to measure out exactly two cups of milk for a custard. A startling number of people had liked it.

"Good lord."

"Are you sure Parse knows you're just friends?" Lardo asked, quirking an eyebrow up to the ceiling.

Bitty kept scrolling until he found a picture of Kent and Swoops reenacting the boat-flying scene from Titanic on the ice in full Aces kit with the caption I've never felt more alive. He showed her. "He's like that with everyone."

Lardo shrugged. "He doesn't spend every spare minute in everyone's house though." She pointed down the hallway. "But that's his sweater on the banister and he's left a grand total of eight pairs of shoes here. Which I'm still puzzling out because that seems like something you'd notice leaving without."

"He has a lot of shoes," Bitty grumbled. "And he's not here for me. He comes here to visit Jack. They're best friends. I'm just -" Bitty cut off before he accidentally said collateral damage. Suddenly, Kent's flirty tweets weren't funny anymore, they were cruel. It wasn't like Bitty was that subtle, and sure, Kent had a habit of saying the worst possible thing he could in any given moment, but it wasn't because he was emotionally blind - no, that was Jack - Kent was good at ripping people apart when he was hurting because he was so good at seeing how they were feeling, pinpointing all their insecurities with unerring accuracy. Kent had to at least have an idea how Bitty felt about Jack, if not also about him, and teasing him wasn't cute anymore. It hurt.

"I'm late for class," Bitty snapped, and he grabbed his bag and stormed out, Lardo staring after him.

He wasn't late, he was early, and Bitty realized halfway across campus that he'd forgotten both his headphones and his wallet in his rush to leave. That meant he had half an hour to kill with no coffee and no music, and he couldn't go back to the Haus to get either. He slumped down with his back against a tree, despite it still being too cold to sit on the ground, and scrolled back through five months of Kent's twitter. 

Lardo was right, he did tweet about Bitty a lot, usually tagging him in, but sometimes not. He tweeted about Jack a lot too, and all his teammates, but it was startling to see that Bitty featured almost as much as the rest of them. He was also surprised to see how often he knew the context behind Kent's vague tweets.

@puckedup
Ever feel like someone was put on earth just to test your patience?

That was after a fight with Jack and

@puckedup
All of Kit's favourite people are Not Me.

was sent during a phone call with Jack that had Bitty on speakerphone with him where Kit had spent the whole call rubbing against the phone, meowing and making them all laugh. 

Bitty sighed and closed Twitter, actually almost late now. He hustled off to class and tried to focus, his mind wandering everywhere that wasn't Early American History.

As he was packing up, the cute brunet boy who sat two rows down approached him with a tentative smile. "Uh, hey. Eric, right? I'm Aaron."

"Oh, hello. Eric, yeah, but most people call me Bitty. Nice to meet you, Aaron." He wondered if Aaron was going to ask him for Kent Parson's autograph.

Aaron laughed nervously, his cheeks brightening. "I, uh, I just wanted to come over and say that I really enjoyed your presentation on the history of bread baking last week, and I thought maybe I could take you to coffee and we could talk about it more? If you're free."

Bitty stared. He was getting asked out. Wow. of course, this being Samwell, he should have assumed there would be other gay guys in his class, but he never considered that one of them might be interested in him. But here was a cute, sweet boy - with no sign of any interest in hockey - asking him to coffee. Bitty swallowed heavily. He should say yes. "Oh, um. That's really sweet of you, honey, but… uh. I'm not - I'm -"

Aaron waved Bitty's protests away. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Just thought I'd give it a shot."

"I would! I'm just kind of struggling with school right now and I figure I'd better stay focused." It wasn't entirely a lie - Jack and Kent were so distracting, Bitty had nearly failed his last quiz.

"Admirable. Well, hey, we have a few classes together. If you want to get coffee in the summer instead, let me know." Aaron smiled brilliantly, apparently unaffected by the sting of rejection.

"I will. Thank you." Bitty watched Aaron leave with his friends, then threw everything in his bag and motored home. He had another seminar in a few hours, but it was optional, and he promised himself he'd review the class notes online after if he didn't go, which he could tell he wasn't going to. 

He passed three pairs of Kent's damn shoes on the way in and knew he had to be there because one of them he'd never seen before. It didn't help that he knew the Aces were playing in New York that weekend, their schedule permanantly fused into his brain as much as he wished he could tell himself he didn't care where Kent Fucking Parson was. He was suddenly filled with so much frustrated anger that he couldn't even bake. 

Bitty stomped upstairs and pushed his door open. He shuffled across the floor, kicking his shoes off as soon as he reached his desk. He knew he should start making a new video, but he didn't want to spend the evening staring at his own face. He sighed. Maybe Jack wanted to - but there were voices coming from the roof and he knew those voices - Jack and Kent. It all bubbled up - suddenly too much - and Bitty grabbed the edge of his window and slammed it shut, not caring what they heard or what they thought. 

All he'd wanted for the first two years of school was for a cute boy to ask him out and now he finally had that and he'd said no, all because he'd already given his heart away to two people who didn't want it. It was horrible and terrible and he couldn't even call his Mama and cry to her because he couldn't bring himself to say "she" without breaking down. 

He grabbed Señor Bun and climbed into his bed, pulling his blanket over his head. He found earbuds under his pillow and plugged them into his phone, clicking his way to Red, and starting at "I Almost Do," and finally letting the tears fall.

He couldn't do this anymore. When he woke up in the morning, Bitty was going to be done - he was going to let those boys go.

**

"You ever just… hit your limit? I've mentioned on here before that there's this guy I like and sometimes seeing him happy is really hard. Well, it's gotten harder lately. I don't begrudge him his happiness at all, in fact, I'm so glad he found someone that makes him shine like that, but… well. 

"Anyway, enough about me! Today we're going to do question and answer instead of a recipe. 

"First up, Anne from Colorado asks: what's the difference between stiff peaks and soft peaks when whipping egg whites. Good question, Anne!"

**

Jack was skyping with Parse when Bitty walked into the kitchen. His first instinct was to turn around and walk out again, but he'd left oats soaking in buttermilk for muffins and if he left them much longer they were going to turn into clumpy, oat goop instead of delicious, baked goodness. He walked past the table without giving Jack a second look and started to tug ingredients out of the cupboards.

But Jack didn't take the hint. "Hi, Bittle."

Bitty nodded vaguely in his direction.

"Is Bits there?" came Kent's voice from the phone. "Hey, Bits!"

Bitty waved towards Jack's phone. "Hey, honey." He turned back to the muffins. 

"What's he doing?"

"He's baking," Jack replied.

"What's he baking?"

"What are you baking, Bittle?"

Bitty sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Muffins."

"He said muffins."

"I can hear him, Jack."

The anger from last night flared up again, and Bitty started slamming the bottles and measuring cups down on the counter with more force than was necessary. 

"You should bring Bits with you," Kent said.

Bitty hovered, pausing halfway through measuring out the flour. 

"Oh. Yeah?" Jack rapped his fingers once on the table. "Bitty, I'm going to Vegas next weekend to visit Kent. You want to come?"

Bitty set the flour down and turned to look at him, incredulous. "You want me to come?"

Jack smiled. "Yeah! You can see Kent's place. And there's this amazing bakery you'd really love. And a fountain that's a cow. You don't have class on Fridays so -"

"No thank you," Bitty snapped, his voice coming out colder than he intended. Jack stilled, brow furrowing, then he nodded.

"Right, okay." He turned back to his phone. "He can't come."

"Bummer."

Bitty mixed up the muffin batter as quickly as he could, threw them in the oven, then ended up letting them burn because when the timer on his phone went off, Jack was still in the kitchen talking to Kent.

**

Bitty walked in the Haus after class to find Kent on the couch with a controller in hand, beating a starry-eyed Chowder into pulp on Mario Kart. Bitty marched upstairs, exchanged his bag for a jacket, and walked right back out of the house without a word, not stopping when he heard Kent call after him.

**

"Hey, Bittle!"

Bitty looked up from where he was shaking cinnamon on his latte to see Jack working his way through the tables at Annie's, one hand raised in a frozen wave. He was a little pink, his breath heavy like he'd seen Bitty from a distance and jogged over to try and catch him. The idea that he'd move with any type of speed to make sure he saw Bitty was altogether too heart-stopping. "Hey, Jack. What's wrong?"

"Bittle. Uh - can we talk for a minute? I can walk you to class?"

"Oh, sure. Of course. Whatever you need."

"Thanks." Jack waited while Bitty snapped the lid on his cup, then they set off across campus. Jack walked close behind Bitty, almost tucking up against his back like he could make up for the height difference by being as close as possible. "So, uh - Did Kenny say anything to you? Because if there's one thing he's good at, it's putting his foot in his mouth. And we've both noticed you've been kind of… distant."

Bitty sighed. He flirted briefly with the idea of denying he was avoiding anyone at all, but he knew they both knew how much of a lie that would be. He hadn't exactly been subtle. "Oh no, honey. It's not him." His stomach twisted with hot guilt. He'd only been thinking about himself, about protecting his own feelings. He hadn't thought about hurting Kent or Jack. "I'm sorry." He twisted his hands around his coffee cup. "Kent didn't do anything wrong, neither did you. I'm - I - I know," he finally confessed in a rough whisper. "Kent told me at the epigkegster the night you guys got back together. Or, well, I figured it out, based on context."

"Ah." Jack's face ignited, flames of heated flush licking up the back of his neck. "Right."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… invade your privacy, Jack. I just -" he shrugged. "I mean, our rooms are right across from each other," he muttered.

"Crisse," Jack huffed to himself, his blush deepening. "But. Uh - if you knew for that long, why is it -? I mean, I would think of everyone, you wouldn't have a problem -"

"Oh no! No, honey, not at all. Of course I don't have a problem with you and -" his eyes flicked around to the press of students thickening as they approached the centre of campus. "With you two," he said diplomatically. "I'm… Jack, I'm jealous," he finally confessed roughly.

"Oh. Ah - right. Oh." Jack blinked over at Bitty's coffee cup, then he smiled. "It's okay, Bittle." He bumped their shoulders together. "I know it feels like there aren't a lot of - uh - people… like us. Options? For you. In hockey. But you'll find someone. I know you will. You're wonderful. Who wouldn't want to date you? It's not like Ke- we have the perfect relationship, or anything. Don't be jealous."

He thinks I'm envious of what they have, Bitty realized with a souring stomach. But it wasn't that at all. It was so hard to explain that he was jealous in every possible direction. He was jealous that Kent got to hold Jack's hand, that Jack got to press Kent up against his bedroom door, kissing him until they were both laughing. He was jealous that they were together and happy and two men and okay with it, even when they couldn't be out, sure, but he was more jealous of the gap of air between them when they stood side-by-side, wanting more than anything to replace it with his body. "Thanks, Jack," he managed to rasp out. "It's just kind of hard sometimes."

"I get it. We can, you know, back off a bit…? Or go away for break?"

"Oh no, lord, don't do that, honey. I'm just being dumb. It's - I have a big paper due and it all just started to be too much. But I don't want Kent to think I'm mad at him or anything. I'll apologize."

"You sure? I can tell him it's okay. If you don't want to talk to him."

"No! I do. I do. It wasn't working anyway. The hiding thing. I just missed you guys while still being jealous. I'll apologize." The arrived at the door to Bitty's lecture hall and Jack stopped, rocking back on his heels.

"Okay. Good."

"Thanks for talking to me." Bitty's hand boldly snapped out and squeezed Jack's wrist.

"Yeah, sure. I'm glad you're not mad. See you tonight?"

Bitty nodded, and Jack bounced off, smiling softly.

Bitty made it ten minutes into class before he snuck his phone out under his desk. Now that he knew he needed to apologize to Kent, he couldn't wait any longer. He didn't have his number, but they were mutuals on Twitter. He still got a little buzz of starkstruckness every time Kent liked one of his tweets. He clicked through to Kent's profile, scrolled back through his last few tweets - two hockey related and four of his cat - then hit the message button. The blank screen glared back at him. 

@omgcheckplease: Hey, Kent.

Only a few minutes later, Bitty's phone buzzed in his hand.

@puckedup: hey, bits

@puckedup: what's up?

@omgcheckplease: I'm really sorry that I've been avoiding you lately. It's nothing you did. It's me.

@puckedup: …

@puckedup: jack talked to you, huh?

@omgcheckplease: Yes. But I shouldn't have needed him to. I was being really rude.

@puckedup: it's fine

@puckedup: you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, bits. I should have told jack not to say anything

@omgcheckplease: No! I do want to talk to you. I miss you. Sorry. It was dumb.

@puckedup: what was it? seriously, if I said something, you have to tell me, cause god knows i'm going to say it again

@omgcheckplease: You didn't. It wasn't you at all. I was just… I got kind of jealous.

Kent didn't answer right away, and Bitty squirmed in his seat. The lecture was a complete write off, and if the door weren't at the front of the room, Bitty would have just slipped out. 

@puckedup: of me?

Of course Kent picked up on what Jack didn't. Bitty considered saying "yes," just so someone would know how he felt about Jack. But since it wasn't the whole truth, he didn't feel like he could say it at all.

@omgcheckplease: Of… you guys. You found each other. I'm single. 

@puckedup: right

@puckedup: we can… like - not? around you. or whatever?

@omgcheckplease: No way! Now that Jack knows I know, I'm one of the few people you guys can be yourselves around, I assume. I know how much it hurts to hide, Kent. I'd never ask you to.

@puckedup: don't want to hurt you, tho

@omgcheckplease: I'm okay, honey. I'm fine. I just had a hard couple weeks and I cut off from the world, but it was a bad idea. I'm really sorry I made you think I don't want to talk to you, cause that's not true at all.

@puckedup: okay if you're sure

@omgcheckplease: I'm sure.

@puckedup: good

Class flew by in exchanges with Kent, and when the prof released them, Bitty was the first one out of the door, nose to his phone. They kept chatting throughout the day, and every time Bitty thought the conversation had lulled, he couldn't think of anything else to say, his phone would chime only a few moments later with something new from Kent. He fell asleep with his phone in his hand and woke up to a barrage of notifications.

After a long list of random morning thoughts was, @puckedup: which is better? followed by two pictures of Kent, one in a blue hat and one in a red hat. Then, inexplicably, one of his cat, wearing both.

@omgcheckplease: Kit makes them look good.

@puckedup: kit makes everything look good. what about me?

@omgcheckplease: The red makes you look slightly less like an asshole

@puckedup: harsh, bits

Another pic came through, this time Kent, wearing Kit on his head, with the red hat on her head. She draped long over him, one paw braced on the end of his nose. This pic had a slightly wider angle, trying to fit Kit in, and it was clear that Kent was shirtless, one bare arm up to hold her in place, his bicep bulging. Bitty's mouth went dry.

@omgcheckplease: Definitely the best one.

@puckedup: what are you up to today?

@omgcheckplease: Class. Writing a paper that I should have started two weeks ago. Baking a stress pie when the writing goes badly.

@puckedup: send it to me I'll write it. then send me the pie.

@omgcheckplease: That would go amazingly.

@omgcheckplease: I *can* send you the pie though. I owe you one.

@puckedup: really?? you can mail a pie?

@omgcheckplease: Sure can :) I've gotten quite good at it, actually. 

@puckedup: fuck yeah, screw my nutritionist i'll hide it under my bed ;)

Bitty kept his phone in his hand as he brushed his teeth and picked out clothes, resisting the urge to send pictures to Kent and ask him which overshirt he liked better. He had to pay attention in class, this time, but when he peeked at his phone halfway through the lecture, Kent had sent him four more pictures, and eight messages.

**

Bitty made two pies that night, let one cool in a box to be sent off to Kent the next day, and shared the other with his Hausmates, unable to stop his grin when Jack took a piece and devoured it in seconds with a happy smile of his own.

When the tracking said the pie had been delivered, all Bitty received from Kent was an entire paragraph of random emojis. The next afternoon, he sent a picture of Kit licking the empty pie tin.

**

There weeks later, Bitty opened his door to find a shirtless Kent Parson standing in his hallway. "Oh my gosh!" He nearly dropped his phone, tangling his headphones around his fingers. "Kent!"

"Hey, Bits. Miss me?"

"Yes!" Bitty lurched forward and threw his arms open to hug him, then remembered Kent wasn't wearing a shirt and tried to bounce back out of his space with a stammered apology. But Kent laughed and grabbed a handful of Bity's shirt and tugged him in again, wrapping his arms around his waist and squeezing. Bitty let his eyes fall shut for a moment, just enjoying the way Kent felt, smelled, how steady he was.

When Kent pulled back, he was smiling. "Surprise?"

"Definitely. I guess you didn't take the flight home with the rest of the team after last night's game?"

"Aww, bless, he follows me," Kent said with a smirk.

"I follow the whole league, Mister. Don't go thinking you're something special."

"Don't worry. I know I'm special." He winked.

Jack's door opened and he stopped, looking between the two of them. His hair was damp and he brought a cloud of his body wash with him. "What are you doing standing in the hallway, Parse? Calvaire, t'es en train de causer un bouchon. Morning, Bittle."

"I was going to ask if I could use Bits' bathroom since you were taking seven million years, but if you're done, I'll use yours after all." He turned around and walked back into Jack's room.

"Don't use all my shampoo, Kenny!" Jack called after him. He turned back to Bitty with a half-smile. "He uses like half a bottle each time."

"Likely an inevitable side effect of being a millionaire bro. You'll be doing it next year," Bitty joked, bumping Jack in the upper arm.

Jack made a face. "I hope not." Jack looked down at Bitty's shorts and the headphones he still had wrapped around his fingers. "Were you going for a run?"

Bitty shrugged. "I was thinking about it, but…" he stumbled around the words, not wanting to give too much away. "Uh. If Kent is around and you guys are all going to hang out? But, I mean -"

"Oh!" Jack brighted. "Yeah, actually, Kenny and I were going to go to Farber and snag some free ice time. Just mess around a little, you know? You want to come?" Jack leaned in, eyes sparkling. "Not many more chances for me to boss you around on ice, eh?"

Bitty, completely whammied by the way Jack was looking at him, damp hair flopping in his face and a cloud of something sweet and steamy pouring off him, just stammered out a, "Yeah, okay," without really processing what he was agreeing to.

"Great."

"I - um." BItty stared down at his hands. "I should change… then - uh - bake…" He spun around into his room, closing the door behind him. He leaned back against it, letting out a sharp puff of air. Wow. Okay. So he was going to spend the morning skating with his crush and his crush's boyfriend, who he was also crushing on. No big.

Everything was okay. He just needed to make like… eighty pies.

Heart rate effectively elevated more than a run could possibly have done, Bitty changed into jeans and a sweater and trotted back downstairs to pull a ball of dough out of the freezer and set it to thaw on the counter while Bessie pre-heated. He dumped a bag of cherries on the counter and started pitting and chopping.

Bitty had fallen into the rhythm when a cool, quiet voice whispered, "You making me another pie, Bits?" in his ear.

He jumped. "No. What have you done to earn a pie, Mr. Parson?"

"Been very handsome and shockingly good at hockey."

Bitty huffed. "Well, get in line. So's everyone else in this house."

"Hmm. You got me there," Kent hummed, and Bitty couldn't see but he could feel Kent's eyes on him as he dropped into a chair by the table. "Jack says you're joining us at the rink."

"Mhm. Thought it'd be more fun than going for a run. Need to get my cardio in." Bitty focused on popping each pit out with a chopstick. Pop, pop. Then he didn't need to wonder where Kent's eyes were wandering to now. "Who else is coming?"

"Dunno." Kent's phone chimed, and Bitty snuck a look at him to find him typing away. A moment later, Bitty's phone buzzed on the counter. He used his cherry juice free knuckle to swipe it open.

@puckedup - 2min
@omgcheckplease is making me a pie.

@omgcheckplease - 12s
Not for you, Mr. Parson.

        | @puckedup
        | @omgcheckplease is making me a pie.

The rest of the gang filed in, but one by one they shared their excuses for not going skating until it became clear it was just going to be Bitty, Jack, and Kent. Bitty tried not to panic at the thought of being even more alone with his two crushes, torn between excitement at getting to skate with them and the now constant ache of having almost what he wanted, but not.

Bitty hung back on the walk over, nose to his phone, only looking up when Jack's hand landed on his shoulder to guide him across a road that hummed with busy traffic. Faber was quiet, serene, and Bitty laced his skates up first then turned on the radio in the changing room to pipe soft music out onto the ice.

They'd only done a few laps when Jack's phone started trilling loudly from the bench. 

"Oh, damn. That's probably George. One minute." He skated off the ice, grabbed his phone, and trotted out to the locker room where the sound wouldn't echo. Bitty meandered after him, stopping by the edge of the boards to check his notifications. His tweet-flirt with Kent earler was blowing up. Any tweets that involved Kent usually did.

Bitty leaned over the edge of the boards, sliding his feet back and forth so his toes bounced off with a dull, hollow sound, clicking through his new followers for anything interesting. The slick cut of Kent's blades zipped across the ice and then he slid to a stop next to Bitty, snowplowing ice over Bitty's feet, and give him a gentle hip check into the boards. Bitty raised an eyebrow at him.

"Show me some of that figure skating shit," Kent said.

"Don't you chirp me, Kent Parson."

"I'm not!" Kent promised, throwing his hands up in surrender. "It's cool. I want to see you, like, fly through the air and shit."

Bitty sighed and tossed his phone over the boards, onto his sweater. "Alright. What do you want to see?" He had to admit, he missed skating that wasn't about scoring goals, but about beautiful lines, grace and power, instead. 

"A jump thing. I dunno." Kent shrugged, but he was grinning now.

"A jump thing," Bitty echoed flatly. "Okay, but I don't have my figure skates with me so it might be a hot mess."

"I'll be impressed no matter what."

"Right, cause you're so easy to impress." Bitty pushed away from the boards and cut across the ice, building speed and titling edge to edge to sink into his skates. He firmly reminded his brain about his lack of toe pick as he turned backwards and crosscut around the end of the rink. On his next lap, he threw in a few twizzles, spinning his way around the curve, and he heard Kent laugh and clap his gloved hands together. 

Another lap, then Bitty lined up for a loop, changing direction and lifting his foot, but his balance was off, so he popped it into a waltz jump, then cut back and bounced along on one foot for a moment, recalibrating.

"What was that?" Kent called from the boards.

"That was a 'give me a minute to warm up, Mr. Parson,'" Bitty sing-songed back.

"I liked it," Kent replied, laughter in his voice.

Suddenly needing to turn the laughter into awe, Bitty picked up speed again, shooting down the ice, then took a breath, and turned into the jump, he kicked his leg in the air, drawing the rest of him up after. He got two rotations and that glorious moment of hang time, then spun back to the ice, wobbling and almost losing his edge, but catching himself at the last moment. 

"Holy shit!" Kent started clapping again, laughing, and Bitty skated back over to him and took his turn coating his feet in snow. "Teach me."

"I can't teach you how to do a double loop." Bitty sighed. "You're a hockey player, you can barely hold your arms up without looking like an awkward Sims character. Not even the new Sims. Like Sims 1."

"Wow. Incredibly rude. I'm extremely graceful."

"You're a posable action figure," Bitty shot back.

"I dare you."

Bitty sighed and put his hands on his hips, already knowing he was helpless in the face of Kent Parson's puppydog eyes. "I'll teach you to do a spin."

"Yessss." 

Bitty held out his hand and Kent took it without hesitation. Bitty's heart immediately leapt into overtime, and he was grateful for his gloves, hiding how sweaty his palm had instantly become. He skated backwards, drawing Kent along with him. "Okay. First of all, relax then stand up straight. Hockey is about getting low and leaning into it, curving around a midpoint. Figure skating is about length and extension, tall and long. You're making beautiful lines, but it changes your centre of balance."

Kent straightened up and his weight shifted back, making him wobble then laugh, his hand still firmly gripping Bitty's. "I'm going to eat ice, aren't I?"

"Probably."

"You're taking far too much joy in that."

"You're the one who wanted me to 'do a jump thing' on command like some sort of performing monkey." Bitty curved them around the end of the rink then took Parse's other hand and tried to guide him into a more figure skating appropriate shape. Without really realizing it, he slipped them into a pairs hold as they sped over the ice, and when Bitty felt his cheeks heating, he backed off, releasing Kent's hands. But Kent had his tongue between his teeth and was trying to emulate the way Bitty moved, his stiff upper body betraying him. 

"How'm I doing?" he asked around his tongue.

"Hmm. Tolerable."

"Some coach you are. Where's the encouragement?"

"You're doing great!" Bitty clapped his hands together. "Time to spin."

"Alright!" Kent hit the brakes and watched as Bitty described the anatomy of a two-foot spin.

"Don't let your weight slip too far back. You want to be as tall and straight as possible -"

"You've got your work cut out for you with both of those things," Kent quipped lightly, and Bitty shot him a look.

"Use the force of your arms coming in to pull you into the spin. Watch." Bitty demonstrated at half-speed, drawing himself in tight and whipping around a few times before popping out a foot to stop with a schick of blade-on-ice.

Kent clapped his hands together once. "Totally. Easy, simple, no problem. My cat could do it." He pushed off, used a few crossovers to build speed around the centre circle then braced his foot and pulled into a very wobbly, off centre spin, with a laughing yelp. "Shit, that's hard," he said when he stopped himself. "I've won the cup and I can't go round and round without falling."

"Stop bragging," Bitty chastised with a smirk.

"Well, then stop showing off, Mr. 'I can do a spinny thing'."

"You asked me to!" 

Kent got a concerningly devilish look in his eye, so Bitty dug his edge in and powered off across the ice away from him. When the air rushing past made him too giddy to stop, he cut hard into a one-foot spin at full power, whipping around and around, hugging his arms in tight until the world was a blur. 

An arm around his middle, jerked Bitty out of the spin with a startled cry and Kent heaved him up into his hold, his skates leaving the ice and Kent pushed off. "Ah! Put me down, Kent Parson!" he yelped, squirming.

But Kent just laughed and spun him around then powered over to the boards. He hauled Bitty up in his arms and tipped him over the edge into the stands. Bitty yelped, braced for the tumble down onto the bench, but instead, new strong arms caught him easily and twisted him back around onto his feet. "You break Bittle and you're going to have to fill in for him next game," Jack chirped, one hand still resting on Bitty's lower back, holding him steady.

Bitty panted, almost certainly doing a wonderful tomato impression, and Kent folded his arms over the boards and grinned at him. "Bits taught me to do a spinny thingy."

"A useful life skill, I'm sure," Jack drawled, but his voice was twinged with that light playfulness that always made Bitty's heart skip a beat. "I thought we were here to practice."

"And I thought we were here to have fun, Zimms."

Jack shook his head and opened the door to the ice. He tossed a few pucks out and grabbed his stick, pushing off onto the ice then twisting back to face Bitty. "You okay?"

"Course I'm okay." Bitty shook him off. His heart was still pounding but it had nothing to with the shock of being snatched and everything to do with having been in both Kent's and Jack's arms in the space of five minutes. "Just going to check Twitter then I'll join you."

Jack nodded and took off, but Kent hovered, looking worried. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No! Of course not." Bitty rocked forward onto the tips of his skates and braced his arms against the boards. "I'm fine. It was funny. You're alright." He squeezed Kent's upper arm. "Just winded. Plus addicted to social media."

Kent's smile returned. "Okay. Don't indulge your addiction too long. We're going to play you and me versus Zimms."

"Alright." Bitty sat down hard on the bench as Kent skated off to join Jack, colliding with him and pulling him into a headlock almost immediately. "Alright. Phew." Bitty took a moment to remember how to breathe then dug his phone out. He flicked through his notifications, then started a new tweet.

@omgcheckplease - 34s
Teaching hockey players to figure skate should come with a surgeon general's warning. It's hazardous to your health. And sanity.

**

"I can't believe you're going to be playing on TV next season, just like this." Bitty used the popcorn bowl to gesture towards the screen. Kent cut in front of the camera, and Bitty caught Jack's smile out of the corner of his eye. The Aces were one up at the first intermission and were just hitting the ice again. 

Jack sighed, turning his attention back to Bitty. "I'm trying not to think about it too much."

"It'll be great. The Falcs seem like a really great group, very positive, not as media obsessed."

Jack nodded.

Bitty pulled his gaze away from the TV to watch him for a moment. Jack's eyes darted back and forth to follow the skaters, leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, tense and riveted. He was beautiful like this, though really, he was beautiful all the time. Bitty felt a sigh ripple through his whole body. If he'd ever managed to truly hope that his feelings would go away on their own, it was clear now that they never would. The way his heart sputtered and leaped at Jack's presence had only gotten worse, if anything. Even falling for Kent hadn't pulled his heart away from Jack, just twisted it in awkward origamis instead. The only thing that would help, Bitty decided, was Jack leaving for Providence and taking Kent's constant presence with him. Distance, time… it was all he could hope for. Not that that didn't ache terribly too.

Bitty turned back to the screen in time to watch Kent cut past the Hurricane's defense and flip the puck between the goalie's legs. "Yes!" He leaped up, Jack only barely managing to catch the popcorn bowl as it flew from his lap. "Oops." He grabbed the bowl back and sat down, setting it on the coffee table. 

His new position pressed his shoulder up against Jack's, but when he looked up at him, breath caught in his throat, Jack smiled down at him. "He looks good, eh?"

"Really good." He sighed and leaned away from Jack again, out of the cloud of his body wash. "Really, really good."

**

@puckedup: were you watching?

@omgcheckplease: You were amazing!!! I'm still squealing. Congrats!!

@puckedup: :))

@puckedup: your skating lessons help ;)

@omgcheckplease: haha <3

@omgcheckplease: How are your spins coming along?

@puckedup: great. trying to teach the guys but it always devolves into a fight

@omgcheckplease: Definitely not a problem I've had teaching figure skating before.

@puckedup: extreme figure skating

@puckedup: it should be a thing

@omgcheckplease: What is with you boys and thinking everything should be a contact sport?

@puckedup: just an excuse to rub up on each other ;))))

Bitty sent back a rolling eyes gif.

**

Bitty stepped across the hall and knocked on Jack's door. It was cracked so he pushed it open. "Hey, Jack, sorry to bother you. Do you have a green high- Oh. Sorry."

Jack was at his desk, computer open, and he was leaning forward and speaking softly into the camera. He looked up when Bitty appeared, though, and smiled. "Hey, Bittle. It's okay."

"Is that Bits?" came Kent's voice from the computer. "Put him on."

Jack gestured Bitty over. Bitty leaned in so his face would be in frame, but Jack grabbed his hip and tugged him down onto the chair. It was already too late to move away when Bitty realized that Jack had shuffled to the side so they were each perched on half of his desk chair, pressed side-to-side from hip to shoulder. Kent grinned at both of them from the screen. "Hey, Bits."

"Hi, Kent." Bitty waved. "How's it looking versus the Senators next week?"

"We've got their number. No problem." Kent paused then looked down at his lap. "What?" he asked it. "Ugh, fine. Come here." He bent out of frame then reappeared with Kit in his arms, upside down like a baby. Her long, fluffy tail dangled over his forearm. "Kit says hi."

"Hi Kit! Gosh, she's so adorable. I'd love to meet her."

Kent's eyes cut right to Bitty's. "You should come to Vegas. We can see Bey live."

"Oh my lord. That's - that's too much to even consider."

"Even better, we can make Jack come. Put him in the front row." Kent grinned like a shark, eyes bright.

Jack made a frustrated, French-sounding noise, and Bitty could feel his eyes rolling. Bitty forced himself to stay still, not sure if he would lean closer or farther away if he gave himself the freedom to move. But Kent's gaze cut over to Jack's and held, something passing between them that made Bitty instantly feel like he was intruding. "Well, nice to see you, Kent," he said in a rush. "I'll let you guys get back to your talk." He pushed up to his feet, immediately feeling the loss of Jack's heat against his side. 

"Aww, Bits, don't go. You haven't told me how your paper went, yet."

But Bitty couldn't stand there, caught in the crossfire of their electricity, and not feel it twisting deep in his gut. He offered Kent an apologetic smile. "Sorry, honey, I'm in the middle of reviewing lecture notes. Quiz tomorrow."

Jack turned to him. "What was it you wanted? Something green?"

"Oh, a green highlighter. If you have one. I ran out of colours."

Jack opened the top drawer of his desk and dug around until he came up with a neon green highlighter, which he handed to Bitty. "Good luck studying."

"Thanks, Jack," Bitty breathed. "Night, Kent. I'll text you."

"You'd better."

As Bitty closed the door behind him, he heard Jack's soft voice, the gentle, lilting one he used when he was a little drunk, waxing poetic about aperture or history's forgotten figures, or talking to Kent. His heart clenched painfully, and he resisted the urge to shut his own door too hard. He was trying, he really was, and it wasn't like he didn't enjoy the time he spent with both Jack and Kent, but some times hit harder than others.

An hour later, a soft knock on the door, jerked him out of morose musings, his books spread out on the bed around him, not one single thing highlighted green. "Yes?"

Jack's head appeared around the door. "Still studying?"

Bitty nodded, though technically he wasn't sure he could call it that anymore.

"Mind a little company? Can't seem to focus tonight."

Bitty laughed lightly. "I know the feeling. Come on in. If we get through two chapters each, I'll make turnovers."

"Deal." Jack settled at Bitty's desk and opened a textbook in his lap. A soft, comfortable silence settled around them, and Bitty found his eyes flicking up from his book far too often. Jack was deeply focused, a pen cap caught between his teeth as his eyes darted back and forth across the page. 

Bitty let himself love him quietly for a moment, sinking deep into the feeling, filling him up from head to toe. It didn't hurt quite like it used to. Like pulling on an old, itchy sweater, it was always there, in the corner of his mind, just a little uncomfortable, but warm and cozy too, familiar. And maybe he wouldn't be able to move on until Jack moved out, but from now until graduation, he was happy how things were.

Jack's lips started to move as he pondered a paragraph with particular intensity, and Bitty smiled to himself as he turned back to his own book.

**

@puckedup: can you skype me in for jack's grad? pissed I can't be there

@omgcheckplease: Of course, honey. I'll call you once I get settled.  

**

Watching Jack graduate was bittersweet. On one hand, Bitty was so proud he thought he might burst. Jack had accomplished so much, overcome so much, and now he was on his way to the NHL, his degree under his belt. Bitty screamed so loud when he crossed the stage and waved his arms so much that when he finally took his seat again, Kent was laughing through his phone. 

"Did you see?!" Bitty asked, bouncing where he sat.

"I saw a vaguely Jack shaped blur," Kent said with another laugh. "It's like I'm really there."

"Oh, sugar. I'm so sorry, Kent. I should have held the phone steady."

"It's okay. It's still nice just to hear them call his name."

Lardo elbowed Bitty in the ribs. "We're taking pictures by the tree, you coming?"

"I'm coming!" He turned back to his phone. "I -"

"I heard. Leave room to photoshop me in. Thanks for doing this, Bits, really."

"It's my pleasure. I'll text you later."

Kent gave him a salute then disconnected, and Bitty shoved his phone in his pocket and ran to catch up with the rest of the team for pictures. Finally, he found himself alone with Jack, standing by the lake. The rest of the graduates and families were milling around them, but the team had mostly dispersed.

"Y'all look ready to go."

"My mom has a small alum thing first, yeah. Then my parents and George made reservations. Then right down to Providence."

"Oh, well." Bitty's heart clenched painfully. He'd never live beside Jack again, never play hockey for him. "I guess that's it, isn't it?"

"...Yeah" Jack didn't move away, his soft smile sinking sadder as they stood there without speaking.

Bitty couldn't help it. He launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Jack and burying his face in his shoulder. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't. "Um. Kent asked me to hug you for him."

Jack laughed softly. "Ok."

Bye, Jack."

"Bye, Bittle." Jack's voice sounded rough, too. "It's been great playing with you."

"Jack… I… I -" Bitty's voice cracked. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't give him away, and Jack belonged to another. He cleared his throat. "Guess the next time I'll see you will be on TV, huh?"

Jack snorted. "What? Bittle. I'll drive up a ton before the season starts. You know I don't really like hotels, and I haven't found a place in Providence yet, so as soon as my parents go back up to Montreal, I'll probably be back at the Haus, sleeping on your couch. Actually, Lardo isn't moving in until the fall, so Shitty said I could use his room. I'm sure Chowder has already redecorated mine."

"Haha, okay. There'll always be plenty of room for you at the Haus, Jack. You know that." Bitty reached out and squeezed his arm, then he forced himself to step away. He needed to get away, before he offered Jack his room, before two years of confessions tumbled out. "You'd better get going."

"Okay, see you, Bittle." 

Bitty turned sharply and started plowing across campus, eyes hot and cheeks no doubt flaming red. He fled, dodging everyone who'd want to talk to him, and plowed up to his room. The Haus was empty so he didn't even bother closing his door, throwing himself down in his desk chair. He was starting to regret not going to Georgia until July. It had seemed pointless to be at the house if his parents weren't there, and he'd only have gotten a few days in with them before they were off to Florida for their cruise, so he'd opted to stay in Samwell until later in the summer. But now he just wanted to run away. He missed Jack so much already that it felt like it was burning a hole in his chest. He grabbed his headphones, but before he could put them on, a hand landed on his shoulder.

He startled around, hastily wiping tears off his cheeks, and found Jack standing there. "Jack?"

"Bittle."

"Oh my goodness - why are - are you all right? You're out of breath. You could have texted -"

"Bitty."

Bitty froze at the nickname. "Did… did you forget something?"

Jack's mouth opened but he didn't say anything. Then he stepped forward and pulled Bitty into a hug, something desperate and clawing about the way his arms squeezed Bitty close. "I feel like I didn't say goodbye to you."

Bitty rubbed his hand up and down Jack's back. "It's okay. You're not going to be that far away. You said yourself you'll be around all summer. And I'll visit. If you want."

"Yes. Please. I just - I'll miss you. You're one of my best friends. You know that, yeah?"

Bitty nodded. "I know. You're mine too. I'll see you soon. You'd better go."

But Jack hovered, his eyes on Bitty's face, expression unreadable. Then, finally, he blinked and nodded. "Okay. I'll see you soon. I'll text you." He slipped out of the room and Bitty was left sniffling after him, his phone clenched his hand. He sunk back down in his chair, and his phone chimed with a text.

**

"Hi, y'all! Sad news, today. If you watch hockey then you know the Aces got kicked out of the playoffs last night. I feel really bad for Kent because he had one of his best seasons, but the team just couldn't quite pull it together this year. Jack is also in Montreal for another week or so, so I can't go visit him in Providence and commiserate."

*ding!*

"And that would be Kent - haha - poor boy. So I'm thinking today we'll talk about brownies, since they're Kent's favourite, and I can send him the output of some ingredient comparison testing. What do you think? Check the description below for the full results!

"I'm going to answer this text then I'll meet you in the kitchen!"

**

Two days later, Bitty was wrapped in a blanket on the couch watching a movie when his phone chimed.

@puckedup: no need to send the brownies. im gonna see you in two weeks

@omgcheckplease: Really??

@omgcheckplease: Wait, I just posted that video!

@puckedup: i have the bell thing on

@puckedup: and yeah I'm spending the summer in boston/providence

@puckedup: you know… for no real reason

@puckedup: ;)

@omgcheckplease: !! That's amazing. Jack must be so pleased!

@puckedup: he'd better be. living in a hotel for two months for that boy. I don't do hotels in the off season.

@omgcheckplease: I think we all know you won't be spending much time at the hotel

@puckedup:... bit of a point of contention, actually

@puckedup: i guess some of the team are staying at the haus all summer? so he feels kinda weird about it, i guess. and he's supposed to be apartment shopping but doesn't have anything yet

@omgcheckplease: Yeah Rans and Holster are going to be here for a bit for an internship and summer classes. I'm staying too, until July at least. My parents were in Florida when exams ended, so I said I'd stay for a bit, maybe help Jack redecorate when he gets a place :)

@omgcheckplease: Though, if you're going to be here, you've probably got that covered.

Sure. He could help pick out pillows for the bed Jack and Kent were going to be sharing all summer. No problem...

@puckedup: you know I'm hopeless at that kind of thing. course we'll need you.

Bitty flushed hot at the thought them "needing" him for anything.

@omgcheckpleease: Oops, gotta run. Talk to you later.

@puckedup: bye bits.

**

"Hi everyone! Thanks for tuning in. I thought I was going to be posting a lot this week, because classes are over and the Haus is a bit quieter so it's easy to find time to record. Buuut… I got invited on a camping trip. Four days in the woods with a bunch of NHL hockey players… Obviously, I'm thrilled to be invited, and it's going to be so much fun, but I'm not sure how I'm going to make it through this without the ability to stress bake.

"So, on that note, this video is going to walk you through how to make campfire pies! I know some of y'all don't have the fancy iron, so we'll cover two ways to make them, and we'll talk about bread versus pastry. Alright, let's get started!"

**

On Thursday morning, Bitty threw his duffle and sleeping bag into the back of Kent's monster four-by-four. It was the same truck Kent had back in Vegas and as soon as he'd landed in New England for the summer, he'd bought a copy so he could drive the same one there. Bitty had called him a rich asshole and he'd gotten put in a headlock for it.

Frankly, the way that headlock had made his tummy flip over and his heart start pounding only reinforced what a shockingly bad idea this camping trip was. It seemed that the captain of the Bruins organized the trip every year, and over time, more and more regulars had been added to the docket. Now, they rented out half the park, and a whole hoard of hockey bros descended for four days, once a year. Several of the Falcs went each year, so with Jack officially signed now, they'd invited him too. He'd said yes, asked if he could bring friends, and immediately invited Kent. 

Bitty had been there when Jack had asked him. He'd watched both of them go through the realization that showing up together for a camping trip was the absolute worst move they could make towards keeping their thing a secret, and as one they'd turned to Bitty and said, "Want to join us?"

Lord help him, Bitty had said yes.

When his choices were to sit around a campfire, making smores and pining after the two boys he'd be sharing a site with, or to sit around at the Haus, by himself, sulking, and pining after the two boys who were off having fun without him, it really was a no brainer. But that didn't make it feel any less stupid, when he climbed up in the back seat of the truck and snagged the aux before Jack could get his hands on it. Four days with these two. He sighed, looking between them. Could he really do this?

Bitty hadn't had any camping gear off his own, and he didn't want to stoop so low as to ask Kent to get an extra tent for him, even though he knew he'd do it without question, so he was forced to borrow Chowder's Sharks tent and sleeping bag. Bitty didn't mention that he'd gone out and bought an extra tarp to cover the huge logo on the top of the tent. It would have been one thing to go out with the Samwell gang tarted up like a Sharks fanboy, but entirely another to meet half of his NHL heroes like that. There certainly wasn't anything wrong with the Sharks, but Chowder's approach was a little… intense for Bitty's liking. Besides, he'd been cheering for the Aces this year.

For no reason whatsoever.

Jack was reading in the front seat while Kent bobbed his head along to Beyonce as the countryside flew by. It was easy, sort of, in the way that it was always hard, but some times were harder and this wasn't one of them. It felt less like he had to pretend, when they were away from Samwell, from their teammates. Kent was so unabashedly flirty with him that flirting back didn't feel like it was giving anything away, and Jack never seemed bothered, merely laughing at their antics. 

It was also nice to see Jack and Kent get to be themselves, without reservation. Kent's hand snaked across the console to rest on Jack's knee as they flew down the highway out of town, and the farther in the rearview the Haus was, the higher up on his leg it drifted. It also didn't hurt as much to see them happy when no one else was around. Bitty didn't feel the need to snap and pout and remind everyone that he was friends with Jack when Kent wasn't, or that he was the one Kent called when the media pressure got to be too much. 

When they arrived at the park, Jack leaned over Kent's lap to hand the gate attendant his printed sheet, and Bitty's stomach fluttered vicariously at the bold contact. She gave them a map and waved them in. They found their site with only a couple of wrong turns, and while Jack and Kent dumped their stuff in one corner, Bitty hauled out his and started unzipping the bags.

A loud chorus of bro-cries came from the other side of the trees, then a stampede of hockey players appeared. Bitty kicked his backpack over the side of the Sharks tent and wiped his palms on his jeans.

"Zimboni!"

"Hey, Tater." Jack shook hands with his teammates. Kent, unsurprisingly, already knew almost everyone there and they bumped fists and did bro hugs. "This is our friend, Bittle," Jack said, gesturing Bitty over. "He played with me at Samwell."

Bitty mumbled a flushed hello and shook hands. He was introduced to the gang, trying to remember all their names, and was shaking the last hand when an enormous man in a bright purple sweatshirt came out of the trees, clutching a tiny chihuahua wearing a matching sweater in his hands. "Hey!" he called. "Welcome!"

"Charlie!" Kent grabbed his hand and they bumped their chests together. "How've you been, asshole?"

"Ah, don't hate me, Parser. You guys knocked yourselves out. Also you'll see that I am here instead of in the playoffs, myself." Charlie laughed, loud and booming, and shook Kent by the shoulder. He had a slight accent, pleasant, soft and lilting, and he gestured wildly with his tiny dog as he talked. He spotted Bitty. "Hello."

"Hi. Eric Bittle. Bitty."

"Nice to meet you Bitty. Lysander Charles, but everyone calls me Charlie."

"Really? With a first name like Lysander, you ended up with the nickname Charlie?" Bitty laughed along with Charlie.

"Who knows with these guys. Just lucky not to be 'Lysol,' I guess!" Charlie reached out and tipped the tiny dog into Bitty's arms. He nuzzled up and licked Bitty's chin, leaving his tongue out after so it hung limply from his mouth.

"Oh my goodness, he's so adorable." Bitty tried to figure out how to get his phone out to take a picture for Twitter without dislodging the little pup.

"That's the Poncho. He's all yours!" Charlie walked away.

Bitty blinked down at the tiny dog that was settling into his hold. "Oh. Okay." Poncho yawned.

Bitty cradled the dog while everyone chatted and got to know each other, finding his small presence to be quite a comfort. They followed Charlie back to his campsite and everyone chatted and had a beer, and Bitty finally started to relax. He liked these guys. He really liked Poncho, but as the afternoon dragged on, he realized he needed to get his stuff set up or risk doing it in the dark. "I'm going to go unpack, ya'll." He poured the dog back in Charlie's hold, who tucked him up under one arm like a football and went back to playing cards.

Bitty crossed the path to their campsite and started digging through his things.

"We're going to go get ice and firewood from the office," Jack said, suddenly behind him. "Want to come?"

Bitty shook his head. "No, you go, honey. I'm going to try and get this set up." He gestured to the tent. His role on this trip was to make it clear Jack and Kent weren't a couple, but that didn't mean they shouldn't have the chance to have alone time. Besides, that way he could get the tent set up and covered before anyone had to see it.

He'd never set up a tent before, but how hard could it be?

Half an hour later, the answer proved to be very hard. Nearly impossible. He tried once again to get the damn thing to stay upright, but it made no sense.

"Wow. Someone's a fan," Kent said, dumping a bag of ice by the picnic table.

Bitty didn't feel the need to ask him what had taken so long. He had a pretty good idea what he and Jack had been up to. "I borrowed it from Chowder. But I can't figure it out!"

"Whoa, Bits. Calm down." Kent wrapped an arm around Bitty's shoulders and tugged him close. "I'll help you."

But twenty minutes later, Jack found them both sitting on the ground, glaring at the pieces of fabric. "What's wrong?"

"We can't figure out how to put Bits' tent together."

Jack rifled through the parts. "You're missing the main centre pole. This one is too short."

"I said it was too short!" Bitty threw his arms in the air. "So where's the centre pole?"

Kent looked around. "Chowder must have forgotten to repack it after the last time he used it."

"Oh no…"

"Don't worry, Bits. You can share with us. I have one of those huge mansion tents."

Bitty winced. "I can't do that, Kent. You're… you know, I'm sure you…" He cleared his throat and dropped his voice low. "Sure you want the alone time."

But Kent just laughed and pulled Bitty into a one-armed hug. "We're not going to leave you to sleep with the bears, Bits. It's totally fine. It's supposed to be unseasonably cold tonight, anyway, better to keep all the body heat in one tent. We don't mind."

"If you're sure…"

"It's fine," Jack said.

Kent gathered up the tent pieces in his arms and dumped them back in the bed of the truck without bothering to pack them up properly. "Completely sure."

Together, they got Kent's tent up - and he wasn't kidding, it was huge. Bitty took one corner and unfurled his sleeping bag, making a little space for himself with his water bottle, solar charger, and a book. When he came out again, Jack was inflating a queen-sized air mattress for him and Kent. It felt a bit… obvious, to Bitty, but Jack and Kent didn't seem worried. Truth be told, Bitty was probably imaging eyes on them much more closely than they were. There were at least ten campsites, and almost all of them were populated by guys, several sharing tents. Bitty saw something more there because he knew there was something more, but if he hadn't known, and hadn't been about to sleep five feet away from their shared bed, he probably wouldn't have suspected a thing.

Any worries about the night were pushed from his mind once the tent was set up and everyone convened on Charlie's campsite for the evening. Bitty managed to coax Poncho into his lap again and he nursed a beer while everyone talked, joked, arm wrestled and got to know each other. Kent seemed in his element and Bitty caught him offering Jack a few comforting knee-squeezes under the picnic table when no one else was looking.

They all went down to the beach to play football in the dwindling sunlight. Bitty made his way back to their campsite with a permanent smile on his face and sand in his shoes. They took turns at the outhouse and Bitty brushed his teeth sharing a water bottle with Jack, spitting toothpaste into the bushes.

As soon as the sun had gone all the way down, a chill crept into the air, and by the time Bitty had snuggled down in his sleeping bag - wearing almost every layer of clothing he'd brought with him - he was shivering. 

The ground was hard and cold and it leached his warmth away and dug into his spine painfully. He should have thought to bring an air mattress or at least a second sleeping bag to lie on top of. If only he'd borrowed Poncho for the whole night - he'd likely make an excellent hot water bottle.

Bitty tucked inside his sleeping bag with his phone and tried to lull himself to sleep scrolling through Twitter, but after two hours he was even colder, even more uncomfortable, and sleep was still far, far away. Staring at the phone was making his eyes hurt, holding it up was making his shoulder hurt, and the battery was draining fast enough that the solar charger he'd set up during the day wasn't going to make it through the night. 

With a sigh, Bitty turned his phone off and re-emerged from his sleeping bag, gasping in an oxygen-rich but frigid breath that set him shivering again. He wrapped his arms around his middle and wondered if it'd be better to get up and walk around until he was tired. It was awfully dark out, though, and who knew what kind of dangerous wildlife wandered through the woods at night.

"Bits?" Kent whispered, and Bitty winced. He'd woken Kent up.

"Sorry," he whispered back.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm f-fine."

"I can hear your teeth chattering."

"This sleeping bag is kind of thin. But I'm ok-kay."

There was a rustling from the bed and then Jack grunted. "Uh?"

"Bits is a popsicle. Move over." More rustling.

"I'm fine, Kent, really. My Southern blood just isn't used to it, that's all."

"Bittle, it's freezing out. You must be really uncomfortable." Jack sat up, and Bitty could make out his shape in the dark. "Come here."

Come here. As if Bitty was going to climb in bed with the two men he was madly in love with. "No thank you."

"Bits."

"I'm f-f-fine."

"We're going to wake up to a little Bittle icicle and then we're going to have to tell your teammates. God, I'm going to have to call your mom, it'll be horrible. Just come up here. It's really warm. Too warm cause Jack is a fucking Canadian-moose sauna. Come here. Please."

"Bittle."

"Fine," Bitty finally huffed out, so cold that higher thought had mostly abandoned him. He scrambled up, letting his sleeping bag fall down around him and made for the air mattress. Kent peeled back the two sleeping bags they'd lain across them like blankets, and when Bitty tried to tuck up on the edge, he hooked his waist and deposited him in the middle, between them. Jack poked Bitty's foot with his own.

"Crisse, you're like ice, Bits."

"It's really c-c-c-cold out," Bitty managed, heart pounding in his chest.

Kent tucked the blankets down again, shifting closer, and the heat of the two of them and their little cocoon immediately started seeping into Bitty, thawing his icy skin. He bit his lip and held back a moan. It was so warm. 

"Thank you," he managed to squeak out. 

Jack moved up against his side, the mattress bouncing and shifting, knocking their knees together and rolling Bitty down into the dipping centre. He was trapped between their two bodies, gravity drawing them closer and closer. It was warmer, not just because of their shared body heat, but because their proximity had drawn a heated blush to Bitty's cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will his body not to react. 

"Better?" Kent asked.

It wasn't. It was so much worse. But in the best possible way, so Bitty nodded. "Better. Thank you." The shivering slowly subsided, and Bitty was able to relax. It was much more comfortable physically, though emotionally, he couldn't imagine being anywhere worse. 

"Goodnight," Jack whispered, so close that Bitty could feel his breath puff against his hair. 

"Night," Kent echoed on the other side.

As silence fell, Kent shifted in the night, one hand slipping down to press up against the edge of Bitty's hip, warm and unmistakable. If the cold wasn't going to be the death of him, the heat certainly would.

**

Bitty woke early, if he'd ever really slept at all, and slipped out of the tent. He peeled off a few of his layers and left them on the picnic table then went to the outhouse. He walked back to the campsite slowly, stomach churning. Last night had been different. It seemed impossible that Kent and Jack didn't know what they were doing to him, but surely, if they did know, they'd stop. It wasn't fair, and he was getting harder and harder to deal with. He could still feel the ghost of Kent's hand on his hip, Jack's breath in his hair.

Bitty snuck back in the tent and changed quietly, grabbing his headphones and a granola bar. He forced himself to eat, even though anxiety was taking up most of the space in his stomach, then pulled on his running shoes. When he jogged past Charlie's campsite, he saw that he was already up and Poncho was shoulders-deep in a bush, tail wagging.

"Good morning, Charlie."

"Morning, Bittle! Going for a run?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could take Poncho for a walk?"

"Ah! Of course. He'd love that. Though, you might have to carry him back. He doesn't last too long. Poncho!" Charlie snapped his fingers, and the little dog's head reappeared.

"Thank you."

Bitty bent and unclipped Poncho's tie-out then clapped his hands, leading the way off towards the wood's trail. Poncho followed happily along, stopping every now and then to sniff a tree trunk or lift his leg on a shrub.

The birds were waking and the sun was rising which warmed the frigid air from last night. Before long, Bitty had taken off his last two sweaters and tied them around his waist, baring his shoulders to the filtered light coming through the trees. It was beautiful on the trail, and for a while, Bitty let himself get lost in his music, Poncho trotting along at his heels.

But as he hit the end of the trail and turned back towards the campground, his heart started sinking down into his stomach again. Jack and Kent were obviously an important part of his life - he couldn't cut them out entirely, and he certainly didn't want to - but he had to be careful with them. It was getting harder and harder instead of easier to push down how he felt. There had to be a line, between wallowing in something he couldn't have, and protecting his own heart, surely? He just didn't know where it was.

Maybe… maybe the only thing for it was to talk to them, tell them he was having feelings and ask them to respect his boundaries. He sighed. That wasn't going to be an easy conversation, and the last thing he wanted was to have a big emotional blowout at the campground. He couldn't survive another night sandwiched between them, though.

Poncho gamely kept up the pace all the back to their site. Charlie wasn't around, so Bitty put Poncho's leash on and set off for his site, determined to come up with some way of explaining things to Jack and Kent that would ask them to keep their distance without completely laying his heart out to be stomped on.

Bitty pulled his earbuds out as he rounded the trees back to the campsite. Kent and Jack were up now, sitting side by side in umbrella chairs with their feet up on the bench of the picnic table, backs to Bitty. A pot on the stove was sending wisps of steam into the air and it smelled like coffee. Bitty opened his mouth to ask if any of it was headed his way, when he heard his name.

"Bittle isn't like that," Jack grumbled, shifting in his seat.

Bitty froze. They were talking about him? He knew he should say something, announce his presence, but he froze like a deer in headlights. 

"Says you," Kent said with a snort. "You don't know."

"I've lived beside him for two years, Kenny." Jack sighed. "I think it would take… convincing? I don't know. Maybe you're right, but if you're wrong…"

"So - what? We just keep teasing him until he breaks?"

Jack huffed angrily. "You can't know for sure what he thinks."

"Oh come on, Zimms. You know he's been in love with you for, like, forever." 

In a hot flush of bitter anger, Bitty unfroze. He started to march across the campsite, but Poncho's leash went taut and he turned back to see the chihuahua with his head in a bush. He snatched the little dog up and held him in his arms, charging past the truck to where the boys sat. 

"How dare you," he snapped out, and they both spun around. He'd never been so angry, maybe ever in his life. He wanted to scream and cry and slap them both. He clutched Poncho to his chest with both arms, holding him between them like a shield. "You knew? You knew how I felt and you still - still - You were teasing me? How could you be so cruel?" His voice broke and hot tears spilled over his cheeks but he pushed through it. "You think it's funny? I'm trying so hard, to be happy for both of you. I thought you wanted to be my friends so I put myself through all this - this shit to get to be your friends too, but you didn't care… you just thought it was -" he sniffled and Poncho turned and started licking tears off his cheeks. "...funny."

"Bittle, no -" Jack took a step towards him and he jerked back, making Jack freeze again. "No. It wasn't like that. Calisse. What the fuck, Kenny? Comment tu veux qu'on explique ça?"

Bitty turned to Kent. "You said you were teasing me. Flirting with me and touching me on purpose because you know how much it bothers me."

"No, Bits." Kent shuffled closer and this time Bitty didn't move, holding his ground but keeping Poncho on the frontline. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. Just - just breathe for a second."

Bitty sucked in a sharp breath, glaring at Kent for daring to tell him what to do, but he was right. The oxygen flooding his lungs made him stop wobbling in place. "I trusted you," he choked out.

"We weren't trying to hurt you," Jack said. "We were trying to… test something."

"Excuse me?"

Kent groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Zimms, that sounds even worse. Bits will you sit down. Please? You'll still be welcome to hate us in ten minutes after we've explained, but this is going to take, like, a second to get out."

Bitty seriously considered saying "no" and walking away. He could ask around for a ride to town and take the bus back to Boston, then a train back to Samwell. He could move up his plane ticket to Georgia, block them both on Twitter, and try and move on. But Jack was giving him this soft, desperate look, one hand reaching out towards him, and Kent had his hat in his hand, crushed into a crumpled mess, so Bitty, still hopeless for them both and hating it, nodded once and sat down heavily at the picnic table. 

Poncho sat bolt upright in his lap, vibrating with chihuahua intensity. At least neither of the boys would try to touch him with Poncho on guard. He hated it, but he didn't think he'd be able to resist a hand on his arm or his knee. He'd give in, agree to whatever they wanted, forgive them for treating him so cruelly.

"Eric," Jack started, and Bitty startled at his first name. "We weren't trying to hurt you. Not at all. What you overheard, it sounds bad, but it's not the truth. We weren't teasing you."

"Parse said you were."

Kent huffed. "Yeah, cause I'm an idiot with a way with words. I didn't mean teasing, not like that. I meant flirting."

Bitty rolled his eyes. "Same thing. When you know it's hurting someone, it's the same thing."

"We didn't know it was hurting you," Jack insisted. "I'm sorry."

"We were honestly flirting with you, Bits. Not to upset you, but because we're both - we, uh, we both have it really bad for you."

Bitty blinked at Kent then at Jack. "What?" It came out less like a word and more like a squeak.

"Yeah…" Kent went on. "We've been… feeling you out. Once we figured out that it was both of us and we were both cool with it. We've been testing the waters. And sorry if that wasn't fair to you, honestly, I really am, but for once I wasn't being an asshole. We really wanted to know if you'd be interested in this."

"Interested in what?"

Jack gestured between the three of them. "In this. In us."

"I don't get it." Bitty pulled Poncho closer.

"We want to date you, Bits."

"You - um - sorry? I don't understand. You're breaking up and you want me to choose one of you?" Bitty's heart rate was rapidly reaching hummingbird status and his desire to throw Poncho at them as a distraction then turn tail and flee was building by the minute.

"Oh god, no," Jack said. "We wouldn't do that to you. We're not breaking up. We thought, maybe, ah, you want might to date us, too? As well. Both of us. And us with you. And each other."

"Well put, Zimms."

"Ta gueule."

Kent reached out, slowly and hesitantly, and dropped his hand to Bitty's knee. Poncho growled but he didn't flinch back "You missed the beginning of the conversation where we were whining about how hard it is being around you and not getting to have more, not getting to touch you or hug you or tell you how we feel. My dumb ass thought this trip would be a good chance to get it all out in the open but then after last night you seemed really uncomfortable this morning, and I realized that if your answer was no, it was going to make it really awkward for you to be stuck with us until we go home. So we were debating if we should say something or wait until we were back in Providence."

"You were… debating…" Bitty couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't process what they were saying. Jack and Kent.. wanted him? "Jack Zimmerman if you're screwing with me, I swear, I'll -"

"We're not. Bittle. Eric. I promise. Promis." Jack reached out and took Bitty's hand between both of his. "Be our boyfriend? My boyfriend?"

Bitty opened his mouth, the yes ready to trip off his tongue. How could there ever be a no to that question?

"Hey, yeah, Little Bittle!" Charlie called as he stomped into the campsite. Kent and Jack both rocketed back hard enough that their chairs tipped backwards. Bitty's hand burned where Jack's fingers had been touching it. "There's the Poncho! How was your walk?"

Bitty had to clear his throat twice to manage to say, "Great. Good. He was good."

"Wonderful." Charlie held his arms open, and Bitty stood on shaky legs to hand the dog to him. "Time for breakfast, little dude," Charlie told the chihuahua, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and nearly drowning him in his copious beard. "You guys want pancakes?"

Kent and Jack both looked at Bitty, heating the back of his neck. He knew they'd go with whatever he wanted, and really, they needed to talk more, but he needed a moment to process what he'd heard, to really think about what it meant. "Pancakes sounds great, Charlie, thank you. Let me bring some jam." He rushed off to the truck, climbing up the bumper to lean over into the back and open the cooler. Inside was a jar of Aunt Judy's special strawberry jam. He clutched it between his hands, as if it could somehow protect him from these crazy feelings. 

When he climbed down again, Jack's hand appeared on his lower back, steadying him. "You okay?"

Bitty nodded. "Sure. I'm fine. Just - um - give me a chance to think?"

"Of course."

Kent and Jack left careful space between them as they walked over to Charlie's campsite. Most of the group had gathered, and Bitty felt immediate relief from the chatting and laughter of the gang. It meant he could curl up in a chair with a plate of pancakes, smothered in jam and syrup, and think.

But his brain wouldn't stop just running around in endless circles, getting nowhere. Jack and Kent wanted him? As well as each other? It didn't make any sense. 

And yet…

The way Kent always sent him a barrage of messages… how Jack had invited him to come to Vegas, to come skating, to join them for coffee… Kent's touches… Jack's smiles… Bitty had always assumed they were putting him between them to hide the fact they were a couple, but they never seemed that worried about it getting out, never actually seemed to find it that hard to keep it a secret. So maybe there was another reason they wanted Bitty around.

And last night… maybe it wasn't as platonic as he thought. Maybe Bitty wasn't the only one who'd stayed awake, thrilling at the tiny touches.

He spent the rest of the morning sitting quietly with a book, but with one eye on the boys all the time. Instead of letting his jealousy rear up, Bitty really watched them, the way they orbited around each other, the smiles, the soft looks, the chirping. It was the same way they treated him, really, if a little restrained. They'd been including him in their relationship all this time, and he hadn't noticed. 

And why was he hesitating now? His first instinct had been to say yes and how could there be any other answer? He'd wanted both of them for a long time, and now they were telling him that not only did he not have to choose, he didn't have to hurt what they already had between them either.

Harley pulled out a deck of cards, and Bitty realized with a growing panic that he was running out of time. He needed to talk to the boys before the last train ran, in case it went badly and he needed to not be here anymore. He stood up suddenly and glances shot his way. Only two held, though: Kent and Jack.

"I'm going for a walk." Bitty looked Jack firmly in the eye, then Kent. "Come with me?"

They both darted to their feet as well, and that drew everyone's attention.

"Need to work off the pancakes," Kent said, lightly. "Let's go!"

Hoping no one realized it was the second walk Bitty had had since dawn, he marched off into the woods, towards the back trail, and trusted the boys to follow him. They walked in silence until they were far enough away from all the sites that no one would over hear. Then Bitty stopped. 

"I had no idea."

Kent and Jack both turned to look at him.

"I mean I knew you both liked me well enough, always inviting me places, but I figured it was mostly so you wouldn't look like a couple. I didn't know you felt that way."

"I fell for you as soon as I met you, Bits." Kent pulled his hat off his head and squished it between his hands. "If Jack hadn't let me back in that night I would have tried to get your number. Maybe that's a shitty thing to say, but, hey, that's me, saying the shitty thing."

Bitty shook his head. "That's not shitty. If Jack hadn't let you back in that night, I would have given it to you. But you two are happy together…"

Jack held out a hand. "We'd be happier with you, too. But if you don't want to, that's okay. We can stay friends. I hope. Can't we?"

Bitty dropped his hand into Jack's and large fingers folded gently around his. He took two steps closer until he was nearly pressed up against Jack's chest. Jack didn't move, didn't breathe. "I guess we'll never find out," Bitty said, and he leaned forward, stretched up on his toes, and kissed him.

Jack melted into the touch, managing to both give to Bitty's pressure and wrap himself around him like an octopus at the same time. His lips were soft and gentle, his chin ducking to find the perfect angle, and Bitty's knees threatened to give out entirely. This was Jack. And Bitty was kissing him. 

Bitty pulled away, sucking in a much needed breath on a gasp. Jack kept hold of his waist until he wasn't wobbling anymore, then released him. Bitty turned to Kent who was standing a few feet away and suddenly felt shy. He took a step forward and Kent stayed planted where he was, hands shoved his pockets, shoulders up around his ears. Bitty reached out and gripped the edge of his flannel between two fingers, not quite able to reach his eye as flames licked up the back of his neck.

"It's okay if it's just Jack," Kent said softly. "We can both love him. That would make me happy."

Bitty tugged on his shirt and Kent's hands came out of his pockets, hovering at his sides but not touching. "What do you want?" Bitty asked.

"You. All of you. Both of you."

Bitty swallowed hard and finally flicked his gaze up to meet Kent's. "Well, then. You'd better kiss me, Mr. Parson."

"Shit," Kent breathed and he stumbled forward, managing to wrap himself entirely around Bitty as he bent and kissed him. Bitty wrapped his arms around Kent's neck, holding him close and kissing him deep, heart singing. Kent pressed closer and Bitty thought he was going to stumble backwards onto the ground with Kent on top of him - not entirely unwelcome - but instead, his back hit Jack's chest and he found himself sandwiched tightly between them. 

One of Jack's arms snaked around Bitty's waist and he caught the other one curling through Kent's hair out of the corner of his eye. There was heat and solid muscle all around him and Bitty's hands were fisted in the back of Kent's shirt, just hanging on for dear life. When his body started hitting the point of no return he broke the kiss and shoved his face down against Kent's chest, panting. 

"Good lord."

Jack squeezed him gently. "You okay?"

"Once my heart starts again, I'll be fine."

Kent huffed a laugh and Bitty heard and felt him kiss Jack over his shoulder, then Kent pulled away a little. "Maybe we should actually walk for a bit."

"Thought we were already walking for a 'Bit,'" Jack quipped.

Kent and Bitty groaned in harmony. "See, Bits. You've made him so happy he's making jokes."

"We'll have to put a stop to that."

"Don't worry." Kent grabbed his hand and pulled him along, setting off down the trail again with a grin. "I've figured out a few things that shut him up pretty effectively."

"Good lord." Bitty had to steer clear of those thoughts or he risked not being fit to return to camp for quite some time. He took Jack's hand on his other side and they wandered through the forest, fingers wound together. A boy on either side made it impossible for Bitty to check his phone when it vibrated in his pocket, but for the first time, he didn't mind. 

They ended up down at the beach, all three strunk by a goofy energy that had them running around in the sand. The water was too cold to swim, but that didn't stop Kent from rolling up his pant legs and wading anyway, yelping and screeching whenever a new patch of skin got hit by a wave. 

All three stole touches and kisses whenever they could, and when the sun sunk low in the sky, Jack flopped down in the sand and Bitty curled up against his chest, warm and soft and safe. They watched Kent fight with a clump of seaweed for a while, then he ran back over and collapsed by Bitty's hip, sending up a spray of sand. 

"Hey!" Jack flicked him on the nose then laughed. 

Kent settled his head in Bitty's lap, and Bitty ran his fingers through his hair. 

They watched the sun drift down towards the horizon.

By the time they made it back to the sites, the other boys had made a towering camp fire and everyone was gathered around it. The three of them went back to their own site to grab chairs, snacks and extra socks. It was really cold already, and Bitty layered on one of Jack's big hoodies, hoping it was enough to stave off the chill. Jack smiled at him when he came out of the tent wearing it. He reached out and tugged on one of the strings hanging from the hood. "Looks good on you."

"Thank you."

Kent appeared beside them, arms laden, and they all marched over to the campfire. Jack and Kent set their chairs up side by side and Kent lay his unfolded sleeping bag over the chair. Bitty hovered, not sure which side to sit on, but Kent made the decision for him by hooking his waist with one arm and pulling him down into his lap.

"Kent!" Bitty hissed.

But Kent just smiled at him. "No one cares, Bits," he murmured quietly against his ear, and sure enough, when Bitty looked around, no one was looking their way. Kent grabbed the bottom of the sleeping bag and zipped it up as high as it would go, locking them together in a big cocoon of warmth. Kent eased Bitty back against his chest, and held him tightly around his middle, using the privacy of the sleeping bag to work his hands up under Jack's sweatshirt to find Bitty's bare skin. 

Bitty let the wash of conversation and laughter mix with the sound of crickets and the water lapping against the shore down at the beach. He closed his eyes and snuggled into Kent's neck.

He woke up in Jack's arms, bundled in the sleeping bag. He blinked his eyes open and realized they were walking back to their campsite, Kent with the chairs tucked under his arms, and Jack carrying Bitty. "I can walk," he muttered, but Jack just chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

"You gotta catch up on all that sleep you missed last night, Bits," Kent said with a laugh.

Bitty scoffed. "That seems highly unlikely to happen tonight."

But when they all crawled onto the air mattress, the heated intensity of their trail walk had softened into cozy comfort. Kent curled up on Bitty's left, one leg thrown over his thighs, and Jack pressed up against his right, his arm draped over both of them, lips pressed into Bitty's hair. It was like a mirror held up to the night before, but right this time. 

Bitty dropped one palm to Kent's leg and covered Jack's hand with the other. He imagined life with these boys, in the future, and it didn't really look all that different. He'd skype with Kent from Jack's lap instead of squishing up on the edge of his chair, he'd fly to Vegas, meet Kit, go to concerts with Kent. He'd help Jack decorate his new apartment in Providence, maybe even picking out a drawer in the dresser for his stuff. It wasn't hard to imagine, not at all. 

And maybe that was why it was easy to snuggle down in the covers, tomorrow forgotten in favour of listening to the frogs singing outside the tent and the soft in and out of Jack and Kent's breaths. Bitty closed his eyes and fell asleep with a smile on his face.