Chapter Text
Being in the closet was difficult. A bit too much, when you had to juggle it while also being the most observed rookie of the league, with a tragic backstory to overcome and a legacy to keep up with.
Things will get easier once Georgia knew, Jack was aware of that. By ‘Georgia’, he was also aware it meant both George and Bittle’s parents (and Bittle also probably knew it) but they hadn’t really talked about that yet. First, George. Then, the parents.
The plan wasn’t complicated. Go jogging with her, tell her about Bitty, ???, profit. Or something like that. Holster made the plan, if anything goes wrong Jack knew who to blame.
But right now, he was still in his car in the parking lot and George was a few meters away, stretching, and she hadn’t yet noticed him, and why did he decide to follow Holster’s plan that was the worst idea ever Holster’s plans were terrible why-
Marde. Sors-toi les doigts du cul, Jack.
For you, and Bits.
He finally got out of the car, and Georgia was glad, if a bit surprised to see him; she was happy to invite him to tag along for her run. Breathe, Jack. You can do it.
They hadn’t even begun, before George’s hand was on his back and she asked him:
“What’s up, kid?”
Uh. So he was that easy to read, hein?
“Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about something…”
And they jogged.
Jack was trying to find his words, but it was hard. He didn’t know the forest at all, so he had to focus on the way, and how do you even begin to explain something so big, and so close to your heart?
“You’re not talking much, for someone who wants to talk,” George teased him, after a minute or two of silence.
“I don’t know how to say it.”
“If you want,” she proposed, leading them towards a wooden bridge, “we can talk about other stuff right now. And you’ll tell me about your thing when you’re ready.”
“I’m going out with one of my teammates”, he almost spat out. It didn’t go past his lips, though. It got stuck in his throat.
“Ok, so I’ll begin” George said, considering his silence as an agreement. “We’ve been scouting a lot of people lately… In the AHL, the NCAA, Juniors, all that. We need to strengthen our offense.”
They needed to, indeed. First line was good, but the second and third lines were… lacking something to make them truly reliable.
“It’s complicated. We need a precise profile, and you know me, I’m picky. I know who I want, and I’d rather not settle for anyone less.”
“Oh, really?” Jack stammered. “So, who…”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence. George was already chuckling.
“I think you saw him play. Short, quick. Clever. Soft hands. Great teamwork.”
Jack knew one (1) short, quick, clever guy who loved teamwork and had the softest hands, but he wasn’t the point, right now. He’ll be as soon as he gets the guts to-
“Eric Bittle, your old teammate. I want him with the Falcs, the minute he graduates.”
Oh well. Marde. Now he couldn’t talk, could he.
When he got back to his car, Jack didn’t know what to do with himself. He was all over the place. George and him (okay, mostly George, that wasn’t supposed to happen like that ) chatted a lot about Bittle, and what a great asset to the team he’d be, and Jack. Couldn’t. Talk.
When she asked what was so important he wanted to tell her, he stammered something about wanting a list of the best sports psychologists in Providence because, well, it’s something he had wanted to ask for a while now -Skype sessions with his current therapist were becoming a bit tedious for him.
And now he was sitting in his car. Georgia had already left. And he didn’t know what to do. So, he phoned Bitty, a bit lifeless.
“Hi sweetheart!” Bitty’s familiar drawl welcomed him. “How did it go?”
“I… I couldn’t do it.”
“Oh, honey-“ Jack could hear Bitty sigh, the warm sigh that made his heart feel better. “-don’t worry. It’s nothing. You’ll manage when you’re ready, and-“
“No, Bitty, that’s not it. George, she…”
“She…?”
In just one syllable, Jack could hear that Bitty was scared . Oh, no. No, no, no. Not like that.
“Bits, she wants to sign you into the Falcs.”
There was a silence. A long, long silence.
“… She wants what now?”
Bitty was smiling, Jack knew it. His fake smile he wears when he’s overwhelmed and could not compute. Welcome to the club, bud.
“… Like, as a PR person? As the team’s personal baker?”
“Wha- No? As a player?”
Sometimes Bittle’s train of thought was a mystery to Jack.
“As a player ? Me?”
“I- Yes? Bitty, I don’t know if you noticed, but you play hockey?” Jack incredulously stammered.
“Yes, but.”
“Good hockey, Bits. Great hockey.”
“NHL-worthy hockey?”
It was surreal. The whole situation was surreal. It wasn’t how Jack imagined his day would be, at all. Until now, he never thought about it. Because Bits never seemed to care.
“Yes. Yes Bitty, you play NHL-worthy hockey.”
There was a beat, where Jack only heard Bittle breathe. Finally, he said:
“George told me -well, she told me not to tell you, because she’s still trying to convince some people of the board waiting one more year to scout you is a good idea.”
“I don’t- I don’t know Jack. I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out. I can’t tell anyone.”
“Don’t worry -I’m already on the way.”
Forty minutes later, Jack was parking in front of the Haus. Bitty was supposed to have a morning class at nine, but frankly Jack wouldn’t even chirp him to have skipped it.
He would have ditched it.
He tiptoed into the house, not wanting to be noticed and to have to explain what he’s doing here on a Tuesday morning; but he saw no one downstairs, and the kitchen was empty. There wasn’t even a faint odour of food. Shit. Jack rushed upstairs. So, he went straight to Bitty’s room, fortunately not walking into anyone on his way.
His boyfriend was here, lying in his bed on his side, wide awake and fully dressed.
“Hi, bud.”
Bitty just groaned. Jack went to sit on the bed next to him, but his boyfriend’s arms were quick to drag him down so he was lying too and Bitty could hide into his chest.
They stayed a few minutes like that. It was easy.
“So, the NHL,” Bitty finally said.
“The NHL.”
That was the whole problem. The NHL. Bitty had never thought that much about the NHL. It was Jack’s goal, Chowder and Holster’s dream, half of the team’s fantasy. But to Bitty, it was a concept, far away from him. Not his place. He was just a former figure skater who began hockey in high school to stay on the ice.
And now, the NHL wanted him.
“Well, there are scouts this year too. A lot,” Bitty explained. “To our matches, I mean. I thought they were for Chowder, or Holster.”
“Chowder is still only a sophomore, but I don’t worry for him; by this time next year,, the scouts will be focusing on him, and I think he’ll be invited to prospect camps this summer. As for Holster…”
“Holster isn’t NHL-cut.”
“Holster is NHL-cut. The most common cut for NHL players. And he’s good at what he does. But…”
“But he’s not great. There are already so many defencemen just like him, but younger, stronger, quicker.”
“Yes. He’s good , but he’s not unique. ”
“And I am.”
Bitty was trying very hard not to freak out. Nothing about this conversation wasn’t surreal.
“You definitely are, Bits. You’d do great in the NHL. You’d do great with the Falcs. So, that’s why…”
“That’s why you didn’t come out to George.”
Jack swallowed, as a way to gather his thought before he said:
“I couldn’t, Bitty… I don’t know. I don’t know if you want to ever try the NHL. I don’t know if you actually could , because George does want you in but the whole board isn’t decided yet, and I don’t know if other teams have noticed you and would like to get you to sign with them. But had I come out to George… I could have killed your chances to ever do so. I couldn’t do it before talking to you first. If you tell me you’re certain you don’t want to try, I’m going to tell George the minute I’m out there, but if you still even wonder if you could… I can’t kill your chances.”
“Will it be? A problem, I mean. That we’re together.”
“I don’t know. Probably. Definitely.”
If Bitty joined the Falconers, once they’d be out, the problems would be legal, of course. Did Jack bribe someone to get Bitty a contract? Did he manipulate anyone to do so?
The answer would be no, of course, but how would they prove it?
If he joined another team, well… To begin with, if any team knew of their relationship, they wouldn’t risk signing him. No one was out in the NHL. Definitely no other big-money sports league had two players overtly in a relationship together. There were too many variables, too many unknowns. Even George wouldn’t risk it.
And that didn’t even begin to deal with the homophobia they both will have to deal with. That Bits will have to deal with anyway if he decides to sign.
“Maybe… Maybe I’d like to try the NHL. I don't know.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, bud.”