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Jack’s stomach dropped and his pulse sped up as he turned to see Kent Parson standing in the front hall of the Haus wearing a stupidly cocky grin.
“Kent.”
“Hey, Zimms. Didja miss me?”
Had he missed him? Jack consciously stopped his eyes from scanning Kent’s body. He didn’t think he’d missed Parson as a person per se. What he’d missed was the feeling of comfort that came from having someone in your corner who you were also physically connected to.
Bittle shifted anxious and excited next to him. He still held his phone tightly in both hands, and Jack could see Twitter open on its screen from the corner of his eye. He needed to remove Kent from the party, he needed to keep Kent away from Bitty. Or did he want to keep Bitty away from Kent? With anxiety crawling up his throat Jack didn’t have time to analyze his feelings. He waited just long enough for Bitty to get his selfie before brusquely maneuvering Kent upstairs.
“Why are you here?” he asked once they were behind the closed door of his bedroom.
“Aw come on, Zimms. That’s no way to greet an old friend.”
Parse took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair making this cow lick stick up in a way Jack shouldn’t, but did find attractive.
“I’m not allowed to stop by when I’m already basically in town?”
Jack sighed and ran a hand through his own hair, “That’s not what I said. Not what I meant. Hi.”
“Hey,” offered Kent in return, his smile turning possessive. “What’s new with you?”
He looked around the room casually before sliding his eyes up and down Jack, “You look good.”
“Thanks…”
Conflicted, Jack both wanted to take a step closer and put more distance between them. After his overdose he’d pushed Kent away for a reason and he couldn’t lose sight of that just because the blond’s shirt stretched across his chest in a way that made Jack want to fall to his knees.
“...um nothing much. Haha. Just going to class and stuff. Average college experience.”
“Is that why you take selfies during keg parties now? ‘Cause you’re an average college student?”
Parson seemed to be making fun of him yet Jack didn’t understand why and couldn’t call him out for it.
“Yeah, I guess…. What’s new with you?”
“Nothing much,” parroted Kent as he moved a little closer. He stuck his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Jack tried not to notice how that only accentuated his chest even more.
“Not doing any average college stuff but I am playing some pretty un-average hockey.”
“Huh.”
Unsure what Kenny wanted Jack simply stood next to his bed and stared at the man he used to share so much of his life with. It felt strange to have Kent in his space and the more time they stood there staring the more Jack wanted to get whatever this was over with.
“I’m thinking about what team to sign with too, I guess.”
“Oh yeah?”
Kent came even closer, wrapping one hand around the back of Jack’s neck, squeezing the muscles there, and running it up his head against the grain of his hair in the exact way Jack loved. He bit his lip to stop from making any noise and closed his eyes for a beat.
“Only just thinking about where to sign? You don’t know what team you like best?”
“Euh, no, I don’t know yet.”
For the first time since he’d arrived Kent looked unsure though it only lasted for just a moment.
“Wait really?...You have no clue?”
“I mean…” It was hard to think while Kent played with his hair, “It could be Montreal it could be LA. I just don’t know.”
Kenny’s other hand slipped around Jack’s waist, his index finger dipped into the waistband of Jack’s jeans to tug them down some.
“...What about Las Vegas?”
“I...I don’t know okay?”
The finger slid out and for just a second relief swept across Jack’s body. But Kent only moved his whole hand down to cup Jack’s ass, causing all relief to evaporate and his heart rate to pick up again.
Their kisses had never been subtle and this one was no different. Kent pressed himself against Jack and squeezed his ass with a sense of ownership as if they’d never fought and parted. Out of habit or desperation Jack reached out and held onto Kenny’s waist with both hands. He opened his mouth without letting himself think, relishing the warmth of Kent’s tongue against his.
“Pars--” he murmured as they both pulled back for air. Kent just leaned in again. He nipped at Jack’s lower lip and Jack tightened his grip on Kent’s waist.
He needed to move away. He needed to put space between them. Kent didn’t want him. Kent wanted something from him. That’s how Parson operated and even at his most well-meaning Kenny always knew how he could work a situation so he got something out of it too. Jack needed to move away but… But Kent was so warm and so close and it felt good.
After hesitating Jack lifted his hands away and patted, not pushed Kent’s hips.
“--Kenny...I can’t do this.”
Kent chased Jack’s mouth as he moved back, “...Jack come on.”
“No, I--...um,” Jack struggled to keep moving backwards and out of Kent’s grip, “Kenny--”
“--Zimms,” frustration leaked into Kent’s voice, “Just fucking 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--”
Jack shoved Kent away completely.
“Get out.”
He felt dirty and used. Kent hadn’t wanted him. Kent had wanted something from him. He was so stupid to think that Kent could have changed so much. Kent thought Samwell was stupid. He didn’t understand how important it was or how much Jack needed this place and these boys.
“--Jack,” Kent took a big step forward and tried to kiss him again but Jack held him at arm’s length.
“You can’t--” he needed to breathe so he could get the words out. “You don’t come to my fucking school unannounced,”
“Because you shut me,” argued Kent.
“--and corner me in my room,”
“I’m trying to help--”
“--and expect me to do whatever you want--”
Something in his words or tone finally cause Kent to back off. He ran his hands through his hair again, agitating his cowlick more than usual.
“FUCK- Jack!!” Kent sounded hurt, “What do you want me to say? That I miss you? I miss you, ok?” His voice softened, “... I miss you.”
Jack’s conscience twinged. He had to stand firm, “... you always say that.”
“...Huh. Well, shit. Okay.”
As Kent paused Jack braced himself for whatever nasty thing was about to come next. That was how it’d always gone before. Kenny didn’t just fight to clear the air. He fought to wound. He fought to cause the most damage he could to the other person. He fought to make himself feel better.
“...You know what Zimmermann? 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 who still care.”
Already Jack could feel the blood pumping in his ears making it hard to stay standing. Weakly he murmured, “Shut up.” Kent just kept going.
“You’re scared everyone else is going to find out you’re worthless, right? Oh don’t worry, just give it a few seasons, Jack. Trust me.”
He wasn’t worthless and other people did care about him. Jack tried to visualize the crushing force of one of Holster’s hugs and the love Shitty radiated from every pore. He hung onto the smiles Bitty threw to him and the way it had felt to lean on a wall next to him and joke. He wasn’t worthless but he was going to fall apart any minute now and he needed to get Kent out of his room before that happened.
“...G-get out of my room.”
A mask of superiority came across Kent’s face and wiped away any real emotion he had shown before.
“Fine. Shut me out again.”
“And stay… stay away from my team.”
“Why? Afraid I’ll tell them something?”
With his last pieces of self control Jack straightened his shoulders, “Leave, Parse.”
Kent threw open the door and they both looked down. Crouched in the hall Bittle fumbled for a dropped door key. The flush on his cheeks could have been from embarrassment or alcohol and Jack’s brain spun as he tried to decide how much Bitty had heard.
Totally ignoring Bitty, Kent casually put the Aces snapback on his head again and cleared his throat. Watching him made Jack aware of how mussed his own hair probably looked and that his jeans sat irregularly on his hips.
“Hey. Well. Call me if you reconsider or whatever. But good luck with the Falconers... I’m sure that’ll make your dad proud.”
The final dig was too much and Jack began to shake as he watched Kent walk away. He’d meant go downstairs too to make sure Kenny actually left however, that wasn’t an option now.
“J--” Bitty started to say but, unable to handle it he turned sharply and flicked the door closed.
The silence of his room pushed him against the flimsy wood and he crumpled to the floor. His head fell between his knees and he pulled at his hair hoping the pain might jolt him out of the panic.
He felt the wood at his back vibrate and Bitty’s soft, hesitant voice call, “Jack?”
He wasn’t worthless. People like Eric cared about him.
He didn’t answer. Instead Jack closed his eyes and let his head fall down further. Bitty would go away in a minute and he then it’d all be over. Distantly he wished they’d taken a selfie before the night had gone to shit.
Right after the draft his therapist had taken to saying, “You can what-if yourself to death if you’re not careful.” Though he hadn’t thought like that since his the end of his sophomore year suddenly a rush of what-ifs pummeled his brain.
What if I hadn’t overdosed? What if Kent and I were still together? What if I did play for the Aces? What if I went home and played for the Habs? What if signing with the Falconers does disappoint my dad? Shit. Fucking fuck. What if I hadn’t kicked Kenny out? What if he was here now and holding me? What if Bittle overheard? What if Bittle didn’t overhear? What if he was here now and holding me? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! What if I am worthless and what if people only love me in spite of it? What if Maman only loves me because I’m her son? What if Papa is faking it?
Stuck in a hellish loop of self-doubt and loathing Jack didn’t notice as his bathroom door opened and slid shut again. Nor did he hear the click of the lock or the soft stutter of unsure feet crossing the room. Only as gentle hands closed around his biceps did his head jolt upwards. He was met with warm but concerned brown eyes.
“Oh, Jack,” breathed out Bitty.
What if Bittle was here and holding me? What if Bittle was here and holding me? What if Bittle was here and holding me? What if Bittle was here and holding me? What if Bittle was here and holding me?
Incapable of answering Jack only stared at Eric who stared back, uncertain of what exactly to do.
“Jack? I’m sorry that I sorta broke in but you didn’t… Lord… I googled what to do to help with panic attacks… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping…” he stuttered out. “I want to help, ok? Can I stay with you?”
Despite his unsure words, Bitty’s hands didn’t leave Jack’s arms. His thumbs slowly rubbed circles into the skin just under the short-sleeved Samwell tee.
Stay. Stay. Stay. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t hate me. I’m sorry. I’m not worth this. I’m such an inconvenience. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.
Jack nodded yes.
“Ok. Thank you.”
Bitty sank even further to the floor. Sitting with his feet folded under him and between Jack’s legs, he kept his voice soft and level as he mentally ran through the checklist he’d read online. “You’re going to be okay, sweetheart. This isn’t going to last and I’m not going to leave.”
A shuddering breath forced itself from Jack’s mouth. Tears welled in his eyes and he blinked furiously to clear them so he could keep staring at Bittle.
Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.
“Oh Lord, Jack. How can I help you breath more normally? Um- can you try and match your breaths with mine? Or… take a nice big breath and let it out slowly? I can’t remember what the article said, I’m sorry.”
Bitty began taking exaggerated breaths trying to keep them deep and even. Once it seemed like Jack had caught the rhythm the smaller man shifted forward a little closer and smiled.
“Great. That’s way closer to normal. That’s great, Jack. You know I went to Professor Atley’s office the other day because I had a question about the written portion of our final and she said some things about crumbles that well, Jack, I consider myself a gentleman but the urge to correct her was too strong…”
As Eric prattled away he let himself focus first on the sound of his voice and then on the words themselves. By the time the story ended he’d managed a chuckle and his own hands had come down from his head to hold Bitty’s forearms weakly.
“Th-thanks,” he whispered.
Impulsively, he leaned forward to pull Bittle into a hug.
“Thanks,” Jack repeated himself.
“Of course, sweetheart. When Kent walked out-”
“-Please.” begged Jack, cutting Eric off, “Can we not talk about… I don’t really want to talk about what happened.”
Bitty didn’t falter, he nodded, tucked his face into the crook of Jack’s neck, and moved his arms up to wrap around Jack’s shoulders. They hugged for some time, until Bitty’s knees ached and Jack’s legs fell asleep.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Eric said as he pulled back and raised himself up.
Out of the front pocket of his jeans he pulled a prescription bottle. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. It was on the counter in your bathroom and it’s got your name on it and… do you need one?”
Jack moved a hand to cover Eric’s and nodded, “Yeah, just one though. I think there’s a water bottle next to my bed.”
Bitty looked behind him and turned back smiling, “Well why don’t we use this as an opportunity to get off the floor then.” He stood in one fluid motion only to wince as both his knees popped audibly.
“Come on, I need your help, there’s no way I can pull you off the ground.”
Bitty held out his free hand to Jack who took it gratefully as he pushed himself up too.
“I’m pretty tired,” Jack started off apologetically, “I don’t think I want to go back to the party…”
“Oh god, Jack! I didn’t expect you to! Take your jeans off and get into bed, I’m going to get you fresh water,” mothered Eric who all but pushed Jack towards his bed as he bustled away.
With slightly clumsy fingers Jack unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor. He frowned as he registered how tacky his back felt and peeled off his shirt too, putting on a freshly washed and very well-worn Pens shirt that originally belonged to his dad. Gingerly he sat and looked down at his still slightly shaky fingers before letting out an equally shaky breath.
“That looks more comfortable,” Bitty came back, locking the bathroom door behind him again just in case. “Someone threw up in Shitty’s room,” he laughed lightly while passing over a full water bottle and a single oval pill.
“He never locks the door, I don’t know what he was expecting.”
Jack’s eyes flicked over to his own door but Bitty shook his head and he looked back, “I locked it too. You’re safe and secure.”
Thank god for Eric, he made everything seem more manageable.
Attack apparently over, pill taken, and Jack off the ground Bitty seemed to lose the confidence he’d gained over the course of the night. He stood in front of Jack, not quite between his knees anymore, and shifted his weight from left to right.
“Do you need me to stay?”
“Not if you don’t want to…?”
Please don’t leave yet. I don’t feel ready to be alone.
Bitty’s lower lip escaped from between the teeth worrying at it.
“I don’t mind.”
He took a fortifying breath, “I’d like to stay at least for a little bit. Especially if it’d still be helpful.”
Jack nodded and grabbed his laptop from the bedside table. He scooted onto the bed all the way so his back leaned against the wall and smoothed out the covers beside him for Bittle.
“D’you mind if we watch something on Netflix?”
Grinning as he hopped up next to Jack, Bitty couldn’t help teasing, “You want to learn at a time like this?”
His ease loosened something in Jack’s chest, “Well I was going to watch something I’d seen before. But maybe you’ll learn something.”
Pressed together from shoulder to knee Bitty couldn’t do too much to defend himself except shake his head and mutter, “This boy,” under his breath.
“Go on then. What am I learning about?” he asked.
“Euh,” Jack scanned his to watch again queue, “The Civil War?”
“Sounds good to me.” Bitty pushed his shoulder into Jack’s, “If I fall asleep on you though it’s not my fault and it’s no reflection on you. History class always made me nod off in high school.”
It’d be nice, thought Jack as he pressed play and pressed closer to Bitty’s warmth, to fall asleep next to Bittle.
Huh. That’s an interesting thought. Maybe one day. Maybe I could be worth this.