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ittybittypbandj · 6 years

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The Internship - Chapter 3

We’re 3 chapters in, team! Halfway there and things are about to get real!

So buckle up, let’s keep going with this multi-chapter Bittyparse fluff-fest, now featuring special guest Angst. 5 chapters, weekly updates. Also on ao3. <3

Fic Summary:

Eric Bittle arrived in New York two weeks ago, newly single and ready for a fresh start. This internship was just what he needed to jumpstart his life.

Kent Parson loved his life in New York. He was at the peak of his NHL career. He had friends, the world’s greatest cat, and everything he thought he needed.

He never expected a small Southern blonde to burst into his life and turn everything on its head.

“Okay, brah, so what happened after that?”

Bitty rolled his eyes and adjusted the laptop resting on his knees. “C’mon, Shitty, I told you this part already. He grabbed my arm so I wouldn’t fall and then stared at me for a minute.”

Shitty cupped his chin in his hand and sighed longingly at the screen. “Fucking love at first sight, my man. Like a scene out of a queer-positive, alternate universe John Hughes movie.”

“You sap,” Lardo snorted, and shoved Shitty’s shoulder. “So what will you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you obviously want to bone him and have his hypothetical babies, so what’s the plan?”

Bitty sputtered. He could feel his cheeks blushing and he covered his face with his hands to hide the evidence. This was embarrassing enough as it was.

“I don’t know, guys…I don’t even know if I like him like that.”

Lardo arched one eyebrow.

Shitty leaned offscreen briefly, then reappeared with a joint between his fingers. He waved it at Bitty decisively. “You can’t fool us, little brah. You look super glowy for a dude who just spent two hours with another dude he didn’t like.”

Bitty sighed. He knew it was fibbing to say that he didn’t like Kent. But what was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to lie, but the situation was a mess. Kent was his client. And Jack’s ex. And a hockey player. Apparently Bitty had a type, and his type was Closeted Top Scorers in the Eastern Conference.

He was pretty sure Kent felt something for him, too. He may not have a lot of relationship experience, and goodness knows it took him and Jack long enough to sort out their feelings, but he also wasn’t born yesterday, and Kent’s winks and smiles and lingering stares…well, he could read between those lines.

“Earth to Bitty…hellloooo?”

Bitty looked back at the screen, where Shitty was waving his arms at the camera.

“Look, I like him. Okay? I want to have his – lordy – his hypothetical babies. But he’s Fancy Feline’s client. Isn’t that illegal or somethin’?”

Shitty stroked his mustache. “It could be problematic, I’ll give you that. But it’s only a conflict of interest if it affects the business relationship. As long as you keep it on the DL and don’t, like, grab his ass in meetings – although, the guy does have a handful of handsome ass…maybe a couple handfuls…”

“Shitty!” Bitty cried. His cheeks were seriously going to catch fire.

“Sorry bro. What was I sayin’? Oh, as long as you keep it professional and don’t let it affect your business decisions, I wouldn’t sweat it. Besides, if they transfer you to another department when your internship ends, you’re golden. You can grab all the hot hockey ass you want.”

Bitty leaned his head back against the headboard. What did he even want? He didn’t want to jeopardize this job, goodness knows he needed it for his resumé. But he also wanted Kent. Lord, how he wanted.

Bitty tried to remember the last time he was this infatuated with another person. It was obviously Jack – he and Jack had circled each other for two years before making a move. They’d wasted so much time that they could have spent together. Bitty didn’t want to make that mistake again.

He didn’t have the luxury of time with Kent. At the end of September, his three-month internship would be over. That was only a month away. What if the company didn’t extend his contract? The Rangers’ season would start in October, and it’s not like Kent would have loads of free time. If Bitty didn’t give him a reason to make time, they might never see each other again.

Lardo leaned in and eyed the screen as she said, “You’re thinking awfully hard, Bits. Care to share?”

Bitty nodded to himself, decision made.

“I’m gonna go for it.”

Shitty whooped and Lardo smirked.

“Shitty, you’re right. I reckon we can keep it professional, and I don’t wanna lose my chance by waiting. If he’s interested – and that’s a big if.” Bitty pointed at the camera for emphasis. “If he’s interested, I want to give it a shot.”

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

Kent’s phone buzzed for the fifth time in an hour. It was from Eric, another chirp about the episode of Chopped they were both watching. Kent grinned and tucked his toes under Kit’s couch cushion as he typed a reply.

Somehow, ever since their meeting in the café, Kent and Eric had gone from business acquaintances who occasionally texted, to text acquaintances who occasionally talked business. Kent was totally down for the shift. He hadn’t seen Eric in person since then – his schedule had gotten crazy and he knew Eric was swamped with his job – but he was already imagining the things they would do the next time they saw each other.

It was super lame to be crushing this hard on someone he hardly knew. He was almost thirty, for god’s sake, and he probably should have wised up a decade ago. But you know what, fuck it. He’d wasted most of his twenties pining after a teenage heartbreak. He was a grown-ass dude now and he could do what he wanted.

Kent: i found where we should go to our next meeting thingy

Eric: Our monthly touchbase? That’s great! Where?

Kent: i’m not telling. it’s a surprise

Eric: Ok lol, how am I supposed to get there?

Kent: i’ll pick u up

Kent: lambo or r8?

Eric: Bless you

Kent: cool, r8 it is

Eric: [puzzled emoji]

Kent: [sportscar emoji] [thumbs-up emoji] [sunglasses emoji]

Kent set his phone on the table when it became clear Eric wasn’t replying right away. He snuggled further down the couch, and Kit stretched out on her cushion like she was trying to protect her space from his feet. Kent’s legs were sore from a grueling practice today, and it felt good to relax at home.

Kent’s phone buzzed and he grabbed for it. That would be Eric, chirping him about his flashy cars.

Jack: Hi Kent. Ready for pre-season?

Definitely not Eric. That was cool, he could roll with the punches.

Kent: hey zimms

Jack: When is your first game?

Kent: next saturday at home, then leave for a 2-game roadie in cali

Kent: u?

Jack: We play the Isles next Friday

Kent: cool

Eric: how on earth you justify TWO sports cars in NYC, I’ll never know. smh.

Kent’s stomach did a little flip at seeing Eric’s name on the screen.

Kent: three

Kent: sports cars, that is. if u count the beamer

Eric: Lord, where do you even park them?

Eric: Also what day is good to meet? How 'bout Saturday?

Jack: Would you want to meet up this weekend? We’ll be in New York until Saturday afternoon.

Jack: It would be nice to see you.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Kent muted the television. He needed to think right now, and he couldn’t do it with Ted Allen describing kumquat soup in the background. Fucking hell. Of course Eric and Jack wanted to meet on the same goddamn weekend. Kent’s life was basically a Lifetime movie. He scrubbed his face with his hands and weighed his options.

He really wanted to see Eric. That was a given. Eric made him feel weirdly happy. It was the first time in forever that he’d felt this optimistic about someone.

And Zimms…Kent hadn’t hung out with Jack since the doomed frat party of 2014, not unless you counted the small talk at galas and awards ceremonies. He didn’t even know what they had in common anymore other than hockey. It might be totally weird, but meeting up was part of his Being-Friends-With-Jack Master Plan, and he still wanted to be friends, even if it required super awkward hangout time.

A niggling part of Kent’s brain was worried that seeing Jack would dredge up old feelings. Kent was doing fine now, doing great actually, but when Jack had called him ‘Kenny’ last month, his brain had gone totally haywire. What if seeing him was like that, but a million times worse? What if he fell hopelessly in love again?

Kent flopped across the couch and onto Kit, trapping her with his arms and nuzzling his face into her side.

“Tell me what to do, baby girl.”

Kit twisted like a goalie blocking a wraparound and jumped free of Kent’s arms. He watched her disappear into the bedroom.

“I see how it is!” Kent called after her.

His phone buzzed. Crap, he probably should have texted Eric and Zimms back like five minutes ago.

Eric: I'm also free Thursday or Friday

Kent’s stomach swooped. Before he could answer, his phone dinged again.

Jack: I’m sorry if that was overstepping.

Jack: I understand if you don’t want to meet up.

Kent noticed that his stomach didn’t do any swoopy-feelings at seeing Jack’s name on his phone. Huh. That was a good sign, right?

Eric: Basically I have no life yet in this city........ :/

Kent felt the swoopy feeling again. Yep, he definitely only felt it for Eric. Taking it as a sign from the Lifetime movie gods, he replied,

Kent: how's thursday? gotta get my beauty sleep friday and saturdays the game

Eric: Thursday's great! 6pm?

Eric: Y'know, can we make it 7pm instead?

Kent: 7 is perf. text me ur address

And to Jack,

Kent: sure zimms, let’s meet sat morning

Kent unmuted the television and stretched his legs along the full length of the couch. The upholstery was warm where Kit had been sleeping.

Now would probably be a good time to tell Jack and Eric about each other. He was pretty sure adults were supposed to tell each other about being friends with exes, although he’d never been in that situation. It seemed like an upstanding thing that a real adult would do.

But what would he say to Jack that wouldn’t scare him away? And more importantly, what would he say to Eric that wouldn’t be a total buzzkill for whatever feelings Eric potentially had for him?

He stared vacantly at the TV. If he told Eric about Jack, and then Jack decided to ghost him again, he’d ruin his chances with Eric for nothing. His and Jack’s track record of being friends wasn’t exactly stellar. Hanging out with Jack might be awkward and he'd bail after an hour. Surely that wouldn’t warrant telling Eric about. And if it went well, Kent would have plenty of time to tell him later. Right?

Kent nodded at his own logic. He would wait to tell them. It would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

“…I’ve been here all night….I’ve been here all daaaay…and boy you got me walkin’ side to side…”

Bitty swayed his hips and sang along over the hairdryer.

He’d been looking forward to this meeting all week. If he was being honest, it was a work meeting only in name. He’d transferred his work files to his phone so he wouldn’t need a laptop. He’d pushed the start time to 7pm so they wouldn’t hit happy hour. He wanted to have the luxury to take things slowly, to suggest dinner or more drinks without the pressure of happy hour ending at seven.

He stepped back from the mirror and gave himself a come-hither look. Should he add eyeliner?

He grabbed his phone off the toilet back.

Bitty: eyeliner??

Lardo: yasss

Bitty: [blowing kiss emoji]

He closed one eye, stuck out his tongue in concentration, and started to apply.

At 7:05, Bitty’s front door buzzed. Kent was downstairs, leaning against a royal blue Audi. He flashed Bitty a smile as he opened the passenger door, then walked to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat. When he pressed the ignition, the powerful engine settled into a deep purr.

“You ready to start your New York education?”

As they crossed the Manhattan Bridge and drove into lower Manhattan, Bitty’s leg bounced restlessly. He forced himself to sit still and squeezed his fingers together in his lap. Kent was right here, and he was so much hotter than Bitty remembered. It was hard to be around him without staring; everything about him felt electric. Eric willed his dick to ignore the observation. His skinny khakis wouldn’t exactly hide an erection.

They pulled up to a swanky hotel and a uniformed man opened Bitty’s door. Kent gave instructions to the valet and handed her a folded bill.

“Is this where we’re going?”

“Nah, we’re just parking. The Dominick does good valet service.” Kent grinned and motioned for Bitty to follow him down the block. “You’ll see. We’re going to a real New York institution.”

The location Kent had picked for their date (meeting, Bitty scolded himself) turned out to be a 1960’s tiki bar that had been in business for fifty years. Kent peppered Bitty with details about local history as they made their way to the bar.

The interior of the bar was dark and hazy. The ceiling was completely covered with autographed dollar bills pushed into the ceiling with drink umbrellas; Kent pointed out his own name, and Bitty politely pretended he could see it in the mass of bills. Surfing movies played on a TV in the corner, vintage posters covered the walls, and everything was covered in a fine film of dust.

Kent ordered drinks – two variations of something fruity and blended, garnished with pineapple – and he let Bitty try both and pick his favorite. They slid into a mostly-hidden back booth. Bitty noticed the bill Kent slipped the bartender, and the ‘Reserved’ sign the bartender removed from the tabletop before they took their seats.

Bitty couldn’t help feeling a little bit awed at the way Kent spent money. Jack and Kent both made a lot of money playing hockey (Kent made two million more, not that Bitty’d checked, that wouldn’t be polite). But they spent it so differently. Jack was reserved and cautious, investing in real estate and vehicles with good mileage and safety records. Kent spent money like it was water. He seemed to view money as a means to solve problems and enjoy himself. After years of coexisting with Jack, Bitty found Kent’s largesse exciting.

As they sipped their drinks, the conversation was light and easy. Bitty leaned into Kent’s space and listened to him describe his favorite New York restaurants. They traded stories and chirps until their glasses were empty and Kent hailed a waiter.

“Another?”

Bitty grinned and nodded. His limbs felt loose and warm. Lordy, he couldn’t even taste the rum in these drinks.

When their refills arrived, Bitty leaned forward to taste Kent’s drink and used the movement as an excuse to shift his knee so that it pressed against Kent’s under the table. Kent glanced up sharply. He didn’t move away. Bitty’s stomach did somersaults.

The thing Bitty loved about conversations with Kent, is how he felt like an equal in them. He didn’t feel young or inexperienced or like an object of adoration – although watching the way Kent’s eyes tracked him as he talked, maybe there was a little of that, too. But he felt like an adult and an equal. Bitty had as many stories to share as Kent did, and Kent seemed genuinely interested in them. He asked follow-up questions about Bitty’s job. He whistled at Bitty’s recounting of the Jam Fiasco of 2015. Bitty thrived on the attention.

By the time they finished their second drinks, Bitty had his hand on Kent’s forearm as Kent regaled him with an embarrassing story of him and his old teammate, Jeff Troy, at a state fair. Bitty gasped as Kent concluded the story by miming a bin of stuffed animals falling on top of them.

“Oh my!” Bitty exclaimed. “Thank goodness y’all were alright.”

Kent looked down at Bitty’s arm, opened his mouth to say something else, closed it again. Bitty was suddenly very aware of the places their bodies were touching.

Feeling brave, he traced his finger down Kent’s arm to his wrist, following a vein just below the skin. Kent inhaled. He watched Kent’s lips, parted slightly with his breath. Bitty wanted to kiss him so badly. He felt invincible from the alcohol and Kent’s attention.

Before he could lose his nerve, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Kent’s.

The kiss was gentle and lasted only a few seconds. Kent moved his lips against Bitty’s, hesitantly, chastely. To an outsider it probably looked innocent enough, and before Bitty could lose himself in the moment, Kent pulled away.

“Not here,” he breathed.

Bitty leaned back. Oh lord, how had he forgotten? Kent was famous in this city and he wasn’t out. There could be cameras anywhere. Kent could be outed on Deadspin tomorrow and it would be so awful for his career. Bitty pressed his hands to his face. Goodness, he’d been so selfish.

Kent looked at Bitty with concern. Bitty could feel the flush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Kent whispered, “I…I want to, just…later?” He cocked his head to one side and asked in a normal volume, “How about we get some food?”

Bitty nodded, still feeling horrified. Things had been going so well, and he totally messed it up with his stupid recklessness.

They closed their tab and walked outside into the warm September night.

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

“So, uh, is pizza okay? I had a place picked out, but we could find somewhere else if pizza after Mai Tais is a no-go.”

Kent looked at Eric hopefully, wishing he could turn the dial back ten minutes and put the wide, happy grin back on Eric’s face.

“Pizza’s fine.”

Kent tried a new conversation topic. “Got any plans after your internship ends? It must be soon, right?”

Eric nodded. “I think they might give me an offer in a different department, outside the Pet division. I’ve had a couple interviews.” Kent nodded as Eric got into the rhythm of the conversation and started to sound more like himself. “Of course, I want to move to the magazine – Home Cooking, they sell it in supermarket checkouts?” Eric glanced over and Kent made a noise like he’d heard of it, “but it’s so darn competitive. I don’t know where I’ll end up.”

Kent half-smiled. He was happy for Eric, even if it blew that he wouldn’t work with Kent and Kit anymore. He’d known from the beginning that Eric’s internship was temporary. He wondered if it would be appropriate to send a letter of recommendation to someone about the food magazine. He’d seen firsthand how good Eric was at his job. The company would be crazy to let him get away. He filed the thought away for later.

“Will you stay in New York?”

Eric nodded and looked around him in a way that made Kent imagine he was assessing the worthiness of all New York City.

“Yeah, the city’s growin’ on me. The company’s based here. And I’ve made some friends,” he turned and met Kent’s eyes, “I’d feel like I missed out if I left now.”

They lingered over pizza at the little restaurant Kent picked out. Eric perked up after a slice of margherita pizza and a coke. He asked Kent all about this year’s team and how Kent felt about their chances in the preseason.

Kent couldn’t stop looking at Eric’s eyes. They looked fucking beautiful, warm honey brown ringed with dark lashes, and it was all Kent could do to keep his hands to himself. He wished they were somewhere private so he could kiss him again. He wanted to feel Eric’s fingertips on his arm again, to lean into his kiss instead of having to pull away. Would Eric be down for it if Kent asked him to come back to his place? What if he was hella offended? He was Southern, did that make a difference? He should have googled this shit beforehand.

Kent waited until they were back on the sidewalk, strolling away from the restaurant with no particular destination, to ask the question.

“Uh, so, I only live a few blocks from here. It’s a nice night…do you, um, maybe want to walk back to my place and leave the car? I can hire you a ride back to Brooklyn whenever you want.”

He could see Eric blush in the yellow light of the streetlamp. It hadn't been his smoothest line, and he hoped he’d read the situation right.

“I wouldn’t be a bother? Don’t you have early practice?”

“You could never be a bother.”

Kent cringed. Welcome to Cheesy McCheesetown, population him.

Eric smiled tenderly, apparently not noticing Kent’s total lack of cool.

“Well, then. I’d love that.”

Kent grinned. His chest felt lighter than it had in months. Eric liked him. Eric wanted to spend time with him and kiss him and come back to his place and hopefully do other things with him. He felt like he’d won the fucking lottery.

They started walking. Kent looked quickly behind them to see that the street was deserted, then reached out and traced his index finger down the outside of Eric's hand. Eric moved his hand closer and pressed their fingertips together. Kent's face felt warm. He felt like a giddy teenager walking home after the homecoming dance, not that he'd ever had a homecoming. He briefly squeezed their fingers together.

When they reached his building, Eric casually put his hands in his pockets as he followed him inside. He stood off to the side, typing on his phone, as Kent asked the concierge to retrieve his car from SoHo; and Kent remembered that Eric had done this before.

Eric knew how to date a famous athlete in the closet. This wasn’t his first time looking unobtrusive in the lobby of a condo building. It was a very specific skill set, and Kent wanted to fight every homophobe who'd made it so Eric needed to learn those skills in the first place. He deserved so much better. Although he had to admit, not many people knew how exhausting it was for guys like Kent and Jack to keep up the bro-ey pretense of heterosexuality, and it felt really fucking good that Eric understood.

Kent nearly vibrated out of his skin as they rode the elevator up to Kent’s apartment. He kept his hands shoved in his jeans pockets, trying not to look nervous.

As soon as the apartment door closed, he turned to Eric and gingerly took his face in both hands. Eric stared up at him, eyes dark.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Eric grinned without answering, then leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kent’s. Kent tried not to moan at finally getting the contact he’d wanted all night. He brushed his tongue inside Eric’s mouth, relishing the hot wetness. He ran his fingers up through Eric’s hair and smelled his coconut shampoo.

Kent hummed in encouragement as Eric wound his hands around Kent’s back and down over his ass. He squeezed playfully, smiling against Kent’s lips, then pulled away just enough that Kent stopped and looked at him questioningly. When Eric seemed satisfied that he had Kent’s attention, he pushed Kent backward with more strength than Kent would have expected, pressing him against the wall of the entryway and bracing him in place with a hand on each of his hips.

“This okay, hon?” Eric asked through his lashes.

Jesus fucking Christ. “More than okay.”

Eric kissed him again, deep and filthy. A shiver ran down the whole length of Kent’s body, and he instantly felt himself go from mildly aroused to hard as a fucking rock.

A small chirp sounded from behind them. Kent groaned.

He turned his face away from Eric’s lips and grumbled, “Go away, Kit. I’ll feed you later.”

Another chirp. This time Kit came right up to them and butted her head against Kent’s shinbone, annoyed. Kent wondered if locking her in the guest bath would be considered animal cruelty. He sighed and relented.

“Sorry, Eric, I forgot. I usually feed her right when I get home.”

Eric gave him an amused little smirk. “You’d better get on that, Mister Parson. She looks mighty displeased.”

“I’ll be back in two minutes.” He leaned forward and kissed the smirk off Eric’s face with quick, silly, closed-mouth kisses. Eric laughed and squirmed away.

Kent ran to the kitchen and proceeded to set a land speed record for preparing cat food. When he finished, he found Eric in the living room with all the lights turned off, watching the city from the wall-to-wall windows. The night skyline of Manhattan lit up his face in a warm yellow glow. Kent stood behind him and circled his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Eric’s shoulder.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

Eric half-laughed, half-sighed. “If you’d told sixteen-year-old me that in a handful of years I would be living in New York City, making it on my own, enjoying dinner and drinks and this,” he gestured pointedly between Kent and himself, “with a hot NHL star...I would’ve said you were downright crazy.”

Kent smiled and trailed little kisses down the back of Eric’s neck, feeling pleased with himself when he felt Eric shiver. “C’mon,” he whispered into Eric’s ear.

“Hmm?”

Kent slid his hands over Eric’s torso, brushing the exposed skin at the waistband of his khakis. “Come with me. I know a few things we could do that would make sixteen-year-old Eric blush.”

Eric snorted. “Oh my god, Kent, that line was awful.”

Kent grinned. “Did it work?”

Eric just laughed, full and throaty, and pulled Kent in the direction of the bedroom.

“Uuuugggghhhh.”

Kent groped around on the bedside table for his phone. Why the fuck was his alarm going off? It was so goddamn early. How was anyone awake at this ungodly hour?

He turned off the offending alarm and reached out for Eric, but the bed next to him was empty.

Kent was immediately awake. He sat up.

When had Eric left? Oh god, had he done something to offend him? He tried to recall what would have upset Eric enough for him to leave, but nothing stood out. The last thing he remembered from the night before was both of them crawling under the sheets, post-orgasm, and Eric laying his hand on Kent's chest as they passed out.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked around. A little yellow sticky note sat next to his phone.

Kent,

I had so much fun last night.

I left early, needed a shower & clothes before work.

Kick ass in your game.

<3 EB

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

Bitty scrambled for his phone when it buzzed, praying it would be Kent. He’d had two false alarms already this morning – a good-morning note from his mama and a string of eggplant emojis from Shitty.

Kent: my pillow smells like you

Bitty: [blushing emoji] you got my note?

Kent: i did

Bitty: Sorry I had to run, I forgot we had a team meeting at 8 and I kinda needed a shower

Kent: heh yeah

Kent: i mean, if you’d let me swallow like i was planning to

Bitty: Oh lordy

Kent: but nooo, u wanted it on my abs

Bitty: Kent Parson

Kent: and then it got everywhere

Bitty: We are not having this conversation while I’m sittin’ in a SHARED cubicle

Kent: [smiling devil emoji] [winking kiss emoji]

Bitty swiveled his chair so he faced away from his cubicle-mate. He hunched over the screen and reread Kent’s texts, beaming like an idiot.

Bitty: Will I see you before your roadie?

Kent: probably not

Kent: we have practice & team photos today, game tmrw, then hit the road right after

Bitty: :( :( :(

Kent: I’d love to meet up next weekend after i’m back

Bitty: I’d like that :D

Bitty: Btw you earned serious baked goods last night

Kent: i live to please [cherub emoji]

Kent: and my favorite flavor is blueberry

Blueberry. Hmm. Bitty had all sorts of blueberry recipes he could bake for Kent. If he stopped by Whole Foods on his way home from work, he could whip up a batch of blueberry mini crumbles easy-peasy. Or maybe the blueberry brie tartlets the boys had been so fond of at the Haus? He opened his browser to research recipes.

It was a bummer that Kent couldn’t hang out until next week. Bitty had no plans tonight and baking would take his mind off the excitement of the last couple days.

That’s alright, he could wait until next week.

He could wait.

If he stopped on his way home and picked up some blueberries, surely that was alright.

If he washed the blueberries and set the butter out to room temperature, that was just smart preparation.

Well, as long as everything was out, he might as well make a little somethin'.

Two batches of mini crumbles, two batches of tartlets, and one batch of sweet potato cat treats later, Bitty finally felt calm enough to crawl into bed. He knew Kent would be busy tomorrow, but he could drop by quickly and give Kent the baked goods and a good-luck kiss. He wouldn’t even have to go inside. It would be sweet and perfect.

The next morning, Bitty tied two bakery boxes with twine and a little note; presentation was important. Kent had said their practice was over at 10, so at 10:30 he skipped up the front steps of Kent’s building and set down his boxes in the lobby.

Bitty: Hi hon, are you home?

Kent: hi what’s up?

Bitty: I have a surprise for you [winking kissy face]

Kent: ??

Bitty: Let me up and I can show you [winking emoji]

Kent: how about I come downstairs to u?

Bitty: Oh don’t you worry, this won’t take but a minute

Bitty: I don’t mind makin’ the trip

Kent: that’s ok you don’t have to

Kent: i can come down

Kent: i don’t mind

Kent: eric?

Bitty hopped into the elevator with a woman holding a Pomeranian, pushing the button for Kent’s floor after she’d swiped her keycard. He smiled in what he hoped looked like a friendly-not-intruder way. Kent was so silly. He didn’t mind coming up at all. No reason Kent should have to interrupt his routine for Bitty.

Bitty knocked on Kent’s door and Kent opened it right away, like he’d been waiting for him. He had on basketball shorts and a Rangers t-shirt. His hair was sweaty. He didn’t invite Bitty in.

“Hey Eric, I didn’t expect you today.”

“Oh honey, I was just in the area and thought I’d drop off a little somethin’ for the boys on your roadie.”

Bitty handed Kent the packages and Kent smiled as he sniffed appreciatively. He turned briefly to listen to something in the other room, and his smile faded. He turned back to Bitty.

“That’s really cool, man. Thanks.”

Bitty started to wish him good luck, but he stopped when he thought he heard…was that footsteps?

Kent jumped in, “Sorry I couldn’t hang out today, I just–”

“Parse, where are the bowls?”

A tall, dark-haired man in running shorts and yellow sneakers walked into the entryway holding a box of cereal. He froze when he saw Bitty.

Bitty’s heart stopped. “Jack?”

“Bittle.”

Bitty backed away, clutching his phone to his chest. What was happening? He couldn’t breathe. Why was Jack here? From somewhere far away, he heard Kent saying his name.

He turned and ran.

#bittyparse #eric bittle #kent parson #kit purrson #jack zimmermann #omgcp #omgcp fic #omgcp fanfic #kent plays for the rangers #parsepositive #i'm posting all of this because i'm too excited to wait #hope you like it!

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