#i need more lgbt to balance out the straight smh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zombizombi · 6 years ago

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hummingbird heartbeat - pt43

Senior year put a lot on Bitty’s plate. Being out as a team captain was important to him -- being a good captain was important, but how did a person do that, exactly? What made a good captain? What had he appreciated about captains he’d had?

He needed to figure that out. He had a chance to inspire others by being out as an NCAA captain, and after this summer with Kent, he was facing a lot more pressure than before. Whether Bitty liked it or not, his performance as captain would reflect on LGBT people in general, not to mention his coaches, his parents, his boyfriends.

His boyfriends, plural.

That wasn’t even common knowledge, and Bitty was pretty sure Kent would rather die than have anyone know anything more about their personal life. Kent definitely couldn’t handle being publicly polyamorous, and honestly? Bitty didn’t think he could, either. His stomach hurt just thinking about it. He hadn’t really even told anyone he was also seeing Jack -- Lardo had sort of implied she knew, via text, but they’d never talked about it.

Balancing Kent and Jack was still… kind of hard, especially since Kent was physically so much further away than Jack. It was easy to make time for him because Bitty was used to that, he just -- worried, maybe, that talking on the phone and Skype wouldn’t be good enough. And Kent had Jeff so close, which wasn’t different, exactly, but it seemed more important than it had before. Like it might make Kent miss Bitty less.

Kent did not seem to think so. “How’s my captain?” he asked.

Bitty laughed. “I’m not your captain,” he said, phone to his ear as he walked to Faber.

“Yes you are,” said Kent. He paused. “Babe. What is it?”

“What’s what?”

“Eric,” said Kent. “You just told me you’re not my captain.”

Sometimes it could be really annoying, the way Kent always seemed to know something was wrong. Sweet. But annoying. “It’s just that I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Bitty said, quickly. “And it’s -- I don’t know.”

“Join the club,” Kent said. He paused. “But, Eric -- you’ve already, like, been a leader to some of these guys. I mean, all of last year you talked about Dex and Nursey and the new guys, and I think it was kind of obvious that they looked up to you? At least a little?”

Bitty blinked. Was it? “I guess,” he said. “I hadn’t really thought about that.” He pulled the door open.

“You got this,” said Kent. “You’re gonna be great.”

Maybe he was right.

That night, he RSVP’d yes to a meet and greet, hoping for the best. To his knowledge, Ransom, Holster, and Jack never attended any of the varsity captains’ meetups, but -- well, Bitty wasn’t Ransom, Holster, or Jack. Maybe talking to some other people in the same position would help? It couldn’t hurt to try, anyway.

At Annie’s, he peered around a bookshelf, staring at a group of students for just a moment. Ducking back behind it, he squared his shoulders. “Listen here,” he muttered to himself, “if talkin’ to other captains is what you need to do, then by golly that’s what ya need to --”

A voice interrupted his self pep talk. “Eric?”

He jumped a little. Oh, Lord, there were three of them.

“You’re Eric, right?” a girl asked.

Right, questions needed answers. “Oh! Hi!” he said. “That’s me! Eric Bittle.”

A short, dark-haired girl waved one hand. “I’m Shruti, I captain rugby.”

“And I’m Sharon -- I captain Ultimate,” said the other. “And this is Edgar -- he’s the volleyball captain.”

“We’re so glad you decided to come to the meet n’ greet!” said Edgar, leading them away from the bookcase and toward a group of people.

“Wow,” said Bitty, “everyone’s here. I guess -- I guess I’ve been missing out!”

“We know the men’s hockey team can be insular,” said Shruti.

“Cult-like,” Sharon cut in.

“Confusing and threatening to outsiders,” Edgar muttered.

“So it’s cool that you could make it,” Shruti finished.

Bitty sat in a chair, giving Shruti a nervous smile for a moment. It didn’t take long for them to break into conversation, and once they got going, it was… surprisingly easy. Chill, even.

“Yeah, dude!” said Shruti. “You had a like, a crazy summer? You don’t have to talk about it, but --”

“No, no, no!” Bitty said. He hadn’t wanted to mention the Cup and Kent and everything first, but everyone had to know, and -- Lord, crazy summer was such an understatement. Being the boyfriend of the first openly gay player in the NHL was… a lot. “It’s so weird, bringing it up -- I didn’t want to --”

“I mean, I guess I’ll just say it,” Shruti said. “A lot of the varsity captains are also in Samwell’s LGBT athletes?”

They were? That probably shouldn’t have surprised Bitty so much, but --

Shruti shrugged. “Not like I had the summer you had, so no assumptions... but like, I hope you’re not... overwhelmed.”

Well. “It’s pretty overwhelming,” Bitty admitted. He laughed a little, rubbed at the back of his neck. Overwhelming? Second understatement.

“Yeah… me and Edgar were talking about the write-up in the Samwell Daily,” said Sharon. “Man.”

Bitty winced. That write-up was really something.

“Oh my god, 100% written by a straight student,” said Edgar.

“Just, like, the captains are here for you and stuff, dude,” said Shruti, giving Bitty a warm smile.

“That’s so nice of y’all,” said Bitty.

“Even Chad L. from Lacrosse.” Shruti gestured to a guy in a white backwards cap standing behind them, talking to someone else. At the sound of his name, Chad L. looked up.

“Five on the beef,” he said, giving Bitty a thumbs up. “Brush the fuckin’ narp goss and nip ched all season, bro. Ripped.”

Oh, Lord. What did that even mean? It was a form of bro dialect that Bitty wasn’t entirely prepared for. “Oh! Um, thank you,” said Bitty, trying -- and failing -- not to think of all the times he’d heard Shitty say “fuck the LAX bros”.

“You guys should all come over for a kegster!” Bitty said. “I promise the Haus isn’t that haunted.”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” said Shruti. After a moment, she frowned. “Um, wait, did that loud guy with the giant chiclet teeth graduate yet?”

Chiclet teeth? Bitty laughed. “Holster?” he asked. “Yeah. He graduated.” The obvious relief on only made him laugh harder.

“Okay. Question. How did the fire over the summer start?”

“Well, that’s --” Bitty started to explain, but someone else cut in.

“Can someone please explain the hockey bro - lax bro rivalry I can’t tell most of y’all apart --”

Bitty laughed. It really felt like home. He was glad he’d come. True, he still had… hockey traditions to keep up with, of course, but having other team captains to talk to made him feel a little better about things.

Classes starting did not, to Bitty’s delight, bother him that much. He was done with French, thank the Lord, and since he’d actually enjoyed his classes with Professor Atley, she was serving as his thesis advisor. Not that he knew what he was going to be writing his thesis about, of course. He could… figure that out at a later date. There were plenty of way, way more important things to deal with -- like initiation.

Bitty wanted something good. Something fresh, even. The classics were classic for a reason, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make it his own. Chatting with Ford as they cleaned dishes one evening, Bitty mentioned the hockey team’s tradition. “You know, before the season starts and everything,” he said. “Just a little welcome to SMH.”

“So, hazing?” asked Ford.

“I mean, not like, hazing,” Bitty said, scrubbing the pan he’d baked the pound cake in. “Goodness. Nothing awful. We certainly won’t have any boys dyin’ on our watch or anything like that!��

“So like, a little Haze by Hazewest, then,” said Ford, drying some plates with a dish towel. “Creative, fun, but not as crazy as Hazing Man.”

Bitty laughed. “Yes,” he said, “exactly. Exactly!” He picked up a towel, running it over his pan. “We’ll just put our own little twist on it.” He paused. “Haze by Hazewest is perfect.”

Ford grinned.

That night, Bitty called Kent at their regular time, surprised to see him pick up the Skype call at his kitchen table. “Hi, honey,” he said.

“Hey, you.” Kent glanced back down at the table.

“You still working on school stuff?” Bitty asked.

“Yeah, but it’s -- it’s fine,” said Kent, waving a hand. His classes had started earlier than Samwell’s, and he was already taking something called multivariate calculus that Bitty had absolutely zero interest in understanding beyond the bright smiles Kent gave him when he figured something out. “How’re you?” Kent asked.

“Oh, you know,” Bitty said, “just gettin’ stuff together. Went through my equipment this morning. Isn’t it amazing how gross stuff gets when it sits for even a little while?”

“Truly,” said Kent. “Like mouth guards.”

Gross. “It reminded me that I meant to ask you the other day,” Bitty said. “Are you gonna wear your cage again this season?” The thought of dealing with another concussion was a little horrifying, if he were honest, and he hadn’t forgotten the last time. Seeing Kent in a cage alleviated a little of that worry, and he’d realized he didn’t know if Kent planned to keep wearing it or not.

Kent let out a deep, irritated sigh, glancing up from his paper. “Yes,” he said, and Bitty could tell by the eye roll that he was only wearing the cage because Jeff was making him. And maybe because he feared Bitty’s wrath, like, a little. Kent’s anxiety over displeasing Bitty had mellowed somewhat with time. “I am.”

“Sweetie,” said Bitty, frowning, “do you need to take a break from the math for a second? Or should we hang up and try this again? Because you’re making your ‘lost in shootout’ face.”

“Sorry, I’m almost done, I swear,” said Kent, rubbing his face with both hands. “Can we talk about something less irritating?” He paused. “What’d you decide about initiation?”

They’d been talking about it the past few days. As he’d said before, Bitty didn’t want to just repeat previous years’ events, he wanted something new. Or, at the very least, old enough that it could be new again. “I was thinking blankets,” Bitty said. “You know, make them carry them around everywhere. Embarrassing but not, like. Bad.”

“Seems harmless enough,” said Kent, still looking at his homework.

“Obviously fines,” Bitty continued. “There’s always fines. And, you know, every year they always do the initiation in underwear, but it’s just so cold in Faber, so I was thinking I’d let them have a sweater --”

“I thought that the whole point was like, being uncomfortable or something,” Kent murmured.

“Well, but I don’t want them getting frostbitten, honey,” Bitty said. “And I have to feed them, obviously. I mean, not everything will be comfortable, I’ll give them some challenges --”

“You should make them figure skate or something,” said Kent, head bent as he scribbled something on his paper. “There.” He slammed his textbook closed. “Done.” Looking up at the camera properly, he grinned.

“You’re a genius,” Bitty said.

Kent shook his head, running fingers through his blond hair. “No, this took me like, hours,” he said, “it’s totally not --”

“I meant the figure skating, baby, not the math,” said Bitty, interrupting him.

“Hey!” Kent yelped. “That math was hard!”

“Yes, you have a very sexy brain,” Bitty said, waving a hand. “But oh my god, figure skating. It’s perfect. We can find little outfits, and I’ll pick a song -- I guess we can just try to get Ford on the ice, I don’t think she can actually skate --”

“Obviously there should be glitter,” Kent added. “And Britney.”

“So much glitter,” said Bitty. “Just. So, so much glitter, babe.”

Kent laughed so hard his face turned red. The next video he posted on YouTube was a cover of Britney Spears’ Gimme More, clearly recorded after he’d hung up with Bitty, warm golden lights on in a dark living room. He still wasn’t showing his face in his covers, even though they both knew it was only a matter of time before the entire internet knew about Kent’s channel. It was honestly a shock that he hadn’t deleted it, because Bitty’s channel sort of led to it, and --

And he needed to stop worrying about it.

Planning initiation now that he had a list of ideas took up the rest of Bitty’s spare time. He had ingredients to buy, a skate routine to plan, music to pick… plus blankets, leotards, and glitter. Bitty recruited the frogs, sending Chowder for the blankets and Nursey for groceries.

It was possible that the hockey team was taking up energy he ought to be using on school, but… it was infinitely more interesting, and Bitty had always been great at putting schoolwork off. The first week wasn’t that intense, anyway. At least, he hoped it wasn’t, because he wasn’t really paying attention.

Fitting a visit to Jack in to his already busy schedule took a little work, but Bitty managed it. Due to his late arrival, they made a quick dinner, nothing fancy -- though Bitty insisted on getting a pie in the oven while Jack cleaned up.

Washing dishes, Jack glanced over at him.

“Yes, honey?” said Bitty, looking up from the lattice of his pie.

“You didn’t bring schoolwork,” Jack said, “did you?”

Oh boy. “Now you listen here,” said Bitty, pointing with a bit of pastry, “I’m already gettin’ enough of this from Kent, I don’t need --”

“It’s your thesis year,” Jack said.

“I know,” Bitty said. “It’ll be fine! I’ve got a long time to -- school just started, you know.” He pressed the pie crust with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

“Kent’s classes started already?” Jack asked, after a moment.

“Yeah, early,” said Bitty. He opened the oven to slide the pie in. “He’s ridiculous. Can you imagine learning calculus for fun?”

“Not really,” Jack said, and Bitty laughed.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s watch a movie.”

Jack let Bitty lead him into the living room, settling on the sofa while Bitty flicked through the streaming menu to find something to watch. “When do you see him again?” Jack asked.

“Hmm?” Bitty paused his scrolling and turned to look at Jack. “Kent, you mean?”

“Yes,” said Jack.

“I’m not sure,” Bitty admitted. “I mean, I’m gonna call him later. But I don’t think I’ll get a chance to see him until they come to Boston.” Maybe New York, but they had multiple schedules to line up. Bitty’s hockey schedule and Kent’s hockey schedule and school and -- Bitty took a breath. “Not like I can drive down to see him,” he added. “Not like you. Why?”

“I was just wondering,” said Jack. He slid an arm around Bitty’s shoulders, pulled him close.

“I’ll see him some time,” Bitty said. “Maybe, um. Maybe you can see him, too?”

“Maybe,” Jack said. He took the remote from Bitty, scrolled through some things on his own. “I think I’d like that.” He chose The Devil Wears Prada, pushing play before Bitty could question him.

They didn’t actually end up watching much of it, anyway.

After cleaning up and brushing his teeth, Bitty ducked into the guest bedroom. He settled onto the bed and set his computer down, chewing his lower lip for a moment before opening Skype. A quick glance at the clock told him he had about two minutes. Bitty pressed his hands to his face, sighing softly.

It was harder than he’d thought, going from seeing someone every day to not being able to see them for months. Being with Kent all summer was maybe the happiest Bitty had ever been. It was like a little window into his future, he’d hoped, waking up with Kent every single day. He’d missed Jack, but -- it was different, still, because he was used to missing Jack over the summer, just talking to him on the phone or whatever.

Kent was in his living room when he answered the call, both cats lounging nearby. There was no sign of Kevin, though. Was Jeff not there? “Hey, you,” Kent said, smiling. His guitar sat next to him.

“Hi, baby,” said Bitty. “How was your day?” He paused. “Were you recording?”

“Yeah.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Kent shook his head. “Conditioning,” he said. “Yours?”

“School,” said Bitty.

“We both suffer so much,” Kent said. They chatted about workouts and school assignments and how all the boys were doing, with occasional breaks as Kent tried desperately to keep Purrs from shredding his favorite blanket.

He was mildly successful.

“You look tired,” said Kent, after a while. “You want me to read to you a little and call it quits?”

“Tell me about Jeff instead,” said Bitty, leaning back into the pillows. He yawned. Kent hadn’t said a single thing about Jeff in days, which was… kind of out of character, really, considering how Jeff was always around.

“What about him?” Kent asked.

“You know,” Bitty said. “What’s the deal? I mean. Just tell me some stuff. We’ll call it your reading for tonight.”

“You know him,” said Kent.

“Not really,” Bitty said. “Beyond Stampede and like, his mom being nice. Humor me, honey.”

Kent let out a soft laugh. “Uh -- okay. Let’s see. Um, Jeff went to Boston University.”

“Don’t tell me stuff I can look up on Wikipedia,” Bitty said.

“Okay, um. I met him the first day I was in Vegas,” Kent said, then. “At the airport. He thought I was gonna be a total asshole.”

Did he? Bitty laughed. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” said Kent, “because nineteen year old boys aren’t famous for being like, sensitive or well-mannered?”

“I forget Jeff is older than you,” Bitty said.

“Yeah, by four years.” Kent paused. “Anyway, uh. He was nice to me, though, I think because Christopher told him to be --”

“Jeff is kind of a nice guy in general,” said Bitty. “Right?”

“Uh, kind of?” said Kent. He laughed. “He can be a huge dick, you have no idea.”

Actually, Bitty did have an idea. Jeff had warmed to him, but he hadn’t exactly been friendly at first. And Bitty hadn’t forgotten the way Jeff talked to him in his apartment a while back, when he made him stand out in the hallway and almost didn’t even let him inside. Plus, he got his fair share of penalty minutes with that temper on the ice. “I believe that,” he said.

“Yeah.” Kent picked at one of his cuticles, stayed quiet for a few minutes.

Bitty frowned. “Is everything okay?” he asked. Kent’s answering nod wasn’t reassuring. Had he said something and Jeff rejected him? Surely not. There was no way he’d do that.

Would he?

The truth was that Bitty didn’t really know Jeff that well. They’d had exactly zero intimate conversations, no true bonding moments. From what he could tell, they didn’t share any interests besides hockey and Kent. Even during the time they’d spent together in Calgary, Jeff seemed to kind of… hold back from Bitty, just a little, and he was intimidating enough that Bitty had never pushed his luck. Southern charm and pie did not work on Jeffrey Troy, that much was clear.

“Everything is fine,” said Kent.

“Did you, um.” Bitty maybe shouldn’t ask about what Kent talked about in therapy, but -- “Did you talk to Brian about Jeff?” he asked. Kent didn’t really talk to very many people, he’d realized. Not the way Bitty did.

Kent’s eyes flicked up from his hands for a moment. “Yes,” he said, after a long stretch of silence.

He clearly did not want to talk about it. “Okay,” Bitty said. “I’m -- nevermind, sweetie.” He cleared his throat. “Um, Jack was asking when I’d see you again,” he said.

Kent blinked. “Uh -- whenever we have a roadie out there,” he said. “Or bye week. Whichever comes first.”

“D’you think that maybe, um.” Bitty twisted his covers in his fingers a little. “Maybe we could all have lunch or something? Like, you and me and Jeff and Jack.”

Kent laughed a little. “What, you wanna be a witness to a murder?”

“Excuse me?”

“Jeff and Jack,” Kent said. “In the same room. For, like, an extended period of time.”

“Yes,” said Bitty.

“It’s madness,” Kent said. He grinned. “But yeah, I’ll totally arrange it.”

Sliding into bed beside Jack once he’d bid Kent good night, Bitty wiggled until he could rest his head on Jack’s chest.

“Hey,” Jack murmured. “Good call?”

“Yeah,” said Bitty. He closed his eyes.

The following Thursday, armed with some impressive shades and flanked by upperclassmen, Bitty set his plans in motion.

“Listen up, eggs,” he said, facing the freshman. “I explain the Samwell rookie blanket once.” He hefted them in his hands. “Let this blankets serve as reminders, you’ll carry them with you every day until initiation.” He paused. “Hops.” He tossed a blue blanket at one of the freshmen.

“Uh,” said Hops, catching it, “but, what if I have class tomorrow?”

“Bully,” Bitty said, tossing the duck print blanket.

“Hey, cool. Ducks,” Bully said.

“And Louis.” Bitty tossed the last blanket.

“This doesn’t seem that bad,” Louis said.

“And to better ensure camaraderie on and off the ice,” Bitty continued, “fines incurred by one frog will be incurred by all frogs.” He lowered his shades. “Because you’re a team. Get it?”

“Yes sir!”

Oh, it was perfect. Bitty beamed. “Wonderful!” He clapped his hands together. “Then you’re at the disposal of your upperclassmen this weekend. You can turn in your blankets Monday night at --” he glanced at Ford. “Haze by Hazewest!”

She grinned.

The boys racked up fines all over the place -- some for being overheard gossiping about Bitty and Kent, some for horrible playlists, and some for, like, harshing Nursey’s vibe, or something? They incurred reasonable fines, too, of course. Getting on the ice before an upperclassman, finishing Ollie and Wicks’ pre-game cereal, breaking multiple sticks in one game…

Bitty was sure they were more than pleased when Monday night started out with his homemade scones and pizza. They got all settled in, tucked into their little sweaters, guards down, and --

And the fun began.

Making them all work on a figure skating routine was even more fun in practice than Bitty had imagined. He even managed to get Ford on the ice, because -- well, no freshman was safe. And watching her try to skate? Hilarious.

Bitty put so much into initiation and then their hockey games that he honestly forgot to talk to Kent about Jeff again. They were getting busy in Vegas, anyway, with camp coming up. Jack had his own things going as well, including Tater being back in town and informing all of Twitter about their workout progress, including Instagram-worthy thirst traps. Bitty did his best to keep up with schoolwork, but he still ended up getting to bed pretty late sometimes, unable to keep up with Jack or Kent’s strict bedtimes.

It felt like he’d only just fallen asleep when shrill noise interrupted what could’ve been a very nice dream. Bitty rubbed his eyes and picked up his phone before leaning over to turn the lamp on. It was a Skype call. Pushing the button to accept, Bitty pushed himself upright just a little further. “Mmm?”

Kent stared at the screen, worrying his lip between his teeth. The pale light of his computer reflected off his glasses. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late,” he said. “I just needed to talk to you.”

Oh. That didn’t sound great. “Hi, honey,” Bitty said, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Hey,” Kent said. He swallowed. “Jeff, um. Jeff --”

Had it finally happened, then? Bitty’s stomach tightened a little. “Did you talk to him?” Lord, what if he’d been wrong?

“You were right,” Kent said. “About everything.”

Thank god. A warm smile spread over Bitty’s face. “Oh, baby. That’s great,” he said. To clarify, did that mean -- “You tell him you love him?”

“I --” Kent paused. “Yeah. Well, he said it first. I mean, I was gonna say it first, I just. It’s not cheating, right?”

Bitty rubbed his face with one hand. “No,” he said, “not unless what I’m doing with Jack is cheating.”

“No,” Kent said. “We talked about it, it’s fi--”

“It’s the same as that,” said Bitty, cutting him off. “For me. You and Jeff, I mean. It’s the same as me and Jack for you, except -- I mean, I wouldn’t kick Jeff out of bed, y’know? Everything’s fine.”

“Eric,” Kent hissed.

“What? Jeff Troy’s hotness is, like, an acknowledged fact. You know there’s a whole Twitter account dedicated to the length of his hair,” Bitty pointed out.

It took a second, but Kent laughed. “God,” he said, pressing his hands to his face. “I love you. I freaked out, didn’t I?”

“Little bit,” Bitty admitted, because it was like, three in the morning and he was still half asleep. He paused. “Did you make out with him?”

“Oh my God, Eric,” said Kent, his face reddening. That was a yes, right?

“Hot. How was he?” Bitty asked, grinning. “Can I watch next time?”

“Oh my God, Eric,” Kent said, again, and he pressed a hand to his face. “Stop. Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I don’t -- Jesus, fuck. It was just kissing.”

It was like a romantic comedy. “You precious thing,” Bitty said. He yawned. “He’s good, right?”

“This is gross,” said Kent. “Go back to sleep.”

“So he’s good,” Bitty said. Confirmed. He’d have to ask Kent about it again later. “I bet he’s into --”

“I’m hanging up,” said Kent.

( HH is on AO3 if you need to start from the beginning! )

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