puckandpie | (no subject)

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jack

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If there's anything likely to make me reconsider deciding to take a few summer courses, it's this last week of finals for the spring semester. Though, if I'm honest, it's not the exams that have got me so stressed out but the projects. I swear I've been working harder than a rooster in a hen house trying to get everything in line. I even had to take a week off of working at Semele's to make sure I didn't run myself into the ground like last semester and, even if I'm not as overwhelmed as I'd been then, I'm still just about to tear my hair out.

I'm glad when Jack decides to head out and get some fresh air, partially because the last thing we both need is for me to take out all my nervous energy on him and also because it's just nice to see Jack out and socializing with people. I know it's not always the easiest thing for him to do, but he's come so far in the past year or so. It's nice to be reminded.

I've had a few hours alone in the kitchen while he's been gone, complete with locking the pups and Elvis up on Jack's apartment to keep from tripping over any four-legged furriness. I'm pretty sure I've got two of my dishes nearly down and I'm just starting on the third -- some fried green tomatoes with miso mayo and thai basil -- when I hear the familiar jangle of keys in the lock.

Happy for the interruption, I quickly grab a towel and wipe off my hands, smiling in relief as I turn to face Jack right as he walks in.

Except what I see makes everything come to a screeching halt.

Instantly, I've dropped the towel back on the counter and I'm rushing forward. "Oh my goodness, Jack, what happened to your face??"

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He's not wrong, honestly. But I prefer to serve my pies fresh and having an emergency pie on hand sort of makes that impossible. I know he's only teasing though so I don't dwell on it too much, instead focusing on exchanging the ice pack for the glass of water and using my other arm to scoop Elvis up and out of the way.

Elvis responds with a plaintive sort of yowl and I hike him up so I can bop him on the nose before glancing back to Jack.

"He bites a lot harder than I do," I point out with a grin and a little bit of a wink before ducking to press a kiss to the top of Elvis's head. Which he doesn't appreciate as much as Jack often seems to. "Are you serious about testing the cookies?"

"You know the deal," I tell him with a smile that's partially hidden by the ice pack. "I'll eat whatever you eat as long as you promise to still love me if I get fat again."

I'm not as afraid of that happening as I'm used to. I may not be training for the NHL anymore, but I still exercise every day and watch what I eat most of the time. I'm proud of my body and how hard I've worked for it, even if I do get anxious if I start to get a little soft. Maybe it won't be the end of the world.

"Besides," I tell him, reaching out to grab his thigh. "I think I've earned a few cookies today."

He's joking, I know, but I still give him a Look, one meant to remind him that I'll love him whether he's one-eighty or four-eighty. Don't get me wrong, I love everything about how Jack looks, but I love what's inside even more and I know that won't ever change.

"I don't think getting your face smashed in with a volleyball is a real good way to earn anything but a black eye," I tell him, reaching up to graze my thumb along his cheek. "You got that part covered though, at least."

With a sigh, I pull away then to head back toward the kitchen, still talking as I go. "Better not make a habit of this, Mister. If you really want cookies from me, all you ever have to do is ask!"

"Fine, then I deserve them!" I call back, wincing when the loud pitch makes my nose ache. He comes back with cookies and milk and I sit up eagerly, shooing Elvis away when he hops up into the coffee table. "Back, demon. These are mine."

I set the ice pack down on the table and wipe my hands on my shorts as I look over at him. "What kind are they?"

I scoop Elvis up off the table after handing over the cookies and the milk, plopping myself on the edge so I can watch his expressions carefully and better gauge when he's being honest and when he's just saying something so he won't hurt my feelings.

Elvis squirms a little, meowing pitifully, but I hold him tight as I point at the napkin. "That one there is a peanut butter stuffed," I tell him. "That's a carrot cake cook, that one's a funfetti shortbread, and that one is a zucchini chocolate chip. I came up with every recipe myself, but I need to narrow what I have down to just three so one of 'em's gotta go. I just can't decide which one."

I take the plate and glass as I sit up, doing a bit of a double take when I see Bits sitting on the edge of the table are staring at me with those giant brown eyes. "Wow, no pressure or anything."

Once it becomes clear that this cookie session has something riding on it, I sit up a little straighter and regard the cookies. "Well, I have good feeling that I'm gonna love the peanut butter one, so I'll save that for last."

I try the zucchini one first, chewing the bite slowly and nodding to myself before setting the rest of it down and taking a drink of milk. "That one's good. Not a cookie I've ever heard of, but I like it."

I taste the rest of the cookies and regard them all, holding my fingers under my chin for a moment. "They're all delicious, but I say ditch the shortbread. Shortbread's never been my favorite, though."

While I can't honestly say I'd been hoping he'd lean one way over another, I still feel my lips tug into a frown at his verdict.

Elvis is squirming something awful in my arms so I let him slither to the carpet, though he immediately springs right back up on the couch and into Jack's lap, sniffing at the crumbs on the plate and swishing his tail in Jack's face.

"You think?" I ask, glancing up toward the kitchen. "I thought shortbread might add a little bit of variety. I'm worried the peanut butter and zucchini chocolate chip might be too ordinary. We get graded on originality."

As soon as his face pulls down into a frown, I feel like I've been tricked into falling for some sort of trap. The cat jumps on me and I flick his tail out of my face, wincing at even the slightest touch to my nose.

"Hey, I never said it tasted bad," I remind him, feeling like I've messed up a bit somehow. "I don't know about you, but I think a zucchini chocolate cookie is plenty original. I've never heard of anything like that before."

But then again, I'm not a chef or a baker and I don't exactly thrive on variety. I would probably have baked chicken and protein shakes every day if there was no one else to put something in front of me. "And hey, you know how I feel about peanut butter. Maybe you should make something like a peanut butter and jelly cookie, eh? Is that a thing?"

Maybe he's right. Maybe having the zucchini chocolate chip will be enough. People do seem to have very distinct opinions on shortbread and I honestly don't know my teacher is for or against them.

It's hard not to laugh at his suggestion though, my face cracking into a smile as I reach out to squeeze his knee. "Oh, honey, trust me everyone has come up with a peanut butter and jelly cookie. I'd be surprised if at least three different people don't bring in some for their final. If you want, I'll steal a couple for you as payment for all this. Or maybe bake you a batch of my very own."

Pausing then, I eye the empty little plate. "You really think to zucchini chocolate chip is okay? It didn't taste too vegetable-y?"

"What? Peanut butter and jelly cookies have existed this whole time and you haven't made me any?" I ask, mouth falling open in mock outrage. I huff at his suggestion, nose going up in the air. "I don't want stranger cookies. I want your cookies."

Bits' gaze turns back to the plate and I lean in to rest a hand on his back, sliding it up at down soothingly. "They tasted amazing, Bits. You're going to ace your final. I know you will."

"Excuse you, mister, I'm pretty positive I baked you an entire batch back at Samwell when I was busy mooning over you and you were too focused on hockey to even notice," I tell him, grinning as I shift over to sit next to him on the couch, curling up close to his side. "But maybe it's for the best. I've definitely perfected the recipe since then so now when I make them, you won't want any other kind ever again."

This is easier to talk about than whether or not my other cookies will land me a good grade. It feels... comfortable. Right. Somehow, it's hard to believe we've been together a whole year already and yet sometimes it feels like it's been hardly even a week.

"Wait, you did?" My brow furrows as I try to think back. Bittle made a lot of different snacks back at the Haus, and I'm pretty sure I would have remembered peanut butter and jelly cookies. Though, if we were in the middle of the season, little caught my attention aside from hockey and my studies. "Mooning over me, huh?"

I turn until I can lay down on the couch with my head in his lap, eyes slipping shut as I rest the melting ice pack against my sore nose. I don't know how long Bittle harbored feelings for me, but there's a part of me that has to believe that we would have worked it out eventually back home. I know I can be obtuse, but this is too good. It feels too right to not have happened wherever we were.

"I-- I'm sorry if I ever hurt you," I blurt out, blue eyes opening wide as I look up at him. "I wish I hadn't been so blind."

I'm not at all surprised he doesn't remember. Not because Jack's ever really thoughtless or inconsiderate, but only because, back home, he'd been incredibly focused. He sort of had to be, honestly. I hadn't understood it when we first met, but once I figured out what sort of pressure he was under, it all made a lot more sense and I stopped taking it personally.

He shifts against me, stretching out across the couch to rest his head on my thigh, ice pack covering half his face.

Something tugs at my chest and I gently card my fingers through his hair as I smile down at him. "Oh, honey, it's okay," I tell him, curling my fingers a bit to lightly scratch. "I mean, it's not like I said anything either. I kept tellin' myself I would. I'd catch you lookin' at me a certain way and kinda... kinda wonder. Or hope, I guess. But I was just so scared of ruinin' it all. You were one of my best friends. I didn't wanna risk loosin' that, you know?"

The pet name and the tone of his voice relax me and I let out as a breath as I stare up at him, shifting the ice pack so that I can see him better. He sounds so sincere, but I still feel bad for all the times that I was a jerk to him. I feel bad for all the times that I looked at him and didn't see him like this, so gorgeous and so important that it makes my chest ache.

"I know," I say after a moment, humming as he scratches soothingly at my scalp. "You were one of my best friends too, Bits. You still are, obviously."

Lowering the ice pack, I reach up to take his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. Even though my life was so upended when I came here, and nothing is really how I thought it would be, I feel safe with him. I feel good.

"I love you," I say softly, smiling at how good the words feel to say. It's not even scary. "I love you a whole lot."

He seems to relax a little bit, though there's still a crease between his brows and I slide one hand down to smooth it away before he takes my hand in his and presses a kiss to the knuckles. My cheeks go warm at the gesture and I let out a quiet laugh. He really is like some kinda Prince Charming sometimes, though I'm not real sure how he'd take that if I ever said as much.

"I love you too," I tell him and, even if we've been saying that for months now, sometimes it still feels like this Big Thing that makes my chest go all tight and my stomach flip right over.

"You know," I add, a little more hesitant, but strangely emboldened by the moment, "there's somethin' I've sorta been thinkin' about for awhile. And I know, uhm... I know we've only been seein' each other for about a year and it might be too soon, but considerin' how often we're in each other's places already, I thought. Well." I pause for a moment, taking a breath as I squeeze his hand a bit tighter. "What would you think about movin' in together? Officially. Like in one apartment instead of two."

The words make me smile, but it soon fades from my face at the hesitation in Bittle's voice. It makes me a little anxious but I wait it out, squeezing his hand in return and then blinking up at him once he's finished talking.

"Oh," I say dumbly, giving him a sheepish expression. "That would make sense, eh? In my mind we've just been living together already this whole time."

For awhile now I've been thinking of the apartments as our place, without giving much thought as to why we need two of them. I squeeze his hand again and smile up at him. "One apartment instead of two. I like that."

Jack's got a weird look on his face there for a moment and I frown down at him, suddenly sure I've definitely made him uncomfortable and he doesn't want to do it at all. Of course, the ice pack is still blocking most of his expression so that's not helping, but he a beat later, he lets out a breath and squeezes my hand and I can just make out the flicker of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah?" I reply when I'm finally able to form words again. "Really?"

There's this bubble of excitement growing inside me and I can barely contain myself as I continue to card my fingers through his hair. "Would it be okay if you move into mine? Only 'cause I'm worried Betsy won't make the move and I can't let her go now that she's working so nicely. I think Elvis might like that better, too."

"Yeah, that works for me," I say softly, watching him with open fondness. I'm here most of the time anyway, and this apartment feels much more like home than mine. "The dogs are over here all the time anyway. I'm sure they won't mind."

An overwhelming sort of peace falls over me, and I just stare up at him for a long moment. It's a huge thing we just decided, but it feels like a no-brainer. It's sort of dumb that it took us so long. "We're both so busy during the day, but I can start packing stuff up during the evenings. I don't have all that much to move over anyway. Most of my stuff is already here."

It's strange how easy it is, honestly. And to think I've been mulling it over for months now, wondering if I should bring it up, afraid that it might scare Jack off somehow.

But it's nothing like that at all. Jack looks... happy honestly, his smile as genuine as I've ever seen it.

"Okay," I breathe on a laugh, feeling a zing of excitement all through. "I can help too on the days I'm not at Semele's. It doesn't have to happen all at once -- we can just move stuff over little by little and then let the complex know. But, uhm. You can start stayin' over every night if you want."

Edited 2017-06-30 03:31 (UTC)

"I definitely want," I assure him. It's rare that we don't end up together in one bed or another anyway, but this time it will be in an official capacity. The thought makes me smile until a sudden thought occurs to me and I look at him with wide eyes.

"We're going to save so much money," I say with the awareness of someone who has never really had to worry about that before. Elvis jumps up onto my stomach and I laugh, reaching down to run my hand down his back, murmuring to him. "Gonna have the whole family together, eh? Mon petit."

Something about how eagerly he says that just settles under my skin the very best way and I can't help but beam at him.

Right then, Elvis jumps up to land on his belly, his tail flicking as he starts sniffing at Jack's poor bruised face. "He might not be too thrilled about Shannon and Macha pushing into his space, but I bet he'll get over it soon enough. Maybe we can make a little safe room for him for awhile. And, as long as he's got you to climb on, he'll be happy as a clam, I'd bet."

"They can be a little rambunctious, eh?" My fingers find the downy soft fur behind Elvis' ears, and I manage to move my face to the side before he headbutts me. "Maybe we can keep the dogs out of the spare room? Get one of those baby gate things, and Elvis can go in there."

It's so exciting to talk about all this, and only scary in an exhilarating way. It's almost like being in line for a rollercoaster. Scary, but you can't wait for it to happen.

"Unless you're planning on turning that spare room into a pantry," I say, chirping him and tipping my head back to look up at him with a grin. "Those cupboards are close to bursting right open."

"Oh, honey, if I haven't turned that room into a pantry by now, I'd say it's safe," I tell him with a smirk. Not, of course, that I haven't been tempted. And, I'll admit, during the holiday season, I have used the closet in there for excess flour and spice storage. I wouldn't have to if I had a bit more room in the actual pantry, but there's no getting around it, really.

Carding my fingers through his hair again, I let my self relish the twist of anxiety and anticipation in my gut. "A room just for him might be a good idea. At least until he gets used to it all. I'd be nice to keep the spare room for whenever we might need it. And there's plenty of room in the closet for your things."

"I'll start moving everything over tomorrow," I tell him, practically purring as loud as Elvis as Bits drags his fingers through my hair. "Once my eyes are black and I'm hideous to look at. Tonight I just want to stay here with you and have you keep doing that."

After a few peaceful moments, I let out a soft groan and move to sit up. "I need to take the dogs outside, though. They've been cooped up all day."

I look at Bittle with wide, sad eyes and manage a bit of a pout. The swollen noise probably ruins it, but I try anyway. "Can they spend the night here too? Since starting tomorrow they'll be here permanently anyway?

I'm hardly about to argue over Jack moving in just as soon as possible so I only nod, a smile spread wide across my face as I continue running my hand through his hair.

After a few quiet moments, he shifts again, his blue eyes locking on mine and I let out a soft breath as he pushes himself up, only a little disappointed to no longer have the weight of his head on my lap. I know it's only for a while though.

"Oh goodness, don't give me that look," I tell him, grinning even as I roll my eyes. "Of course they can stay over. Might as well start in on things, yeah? What do you think I am, some kinda monster who's gonna force them to stay over at your place until the very last moment? You know I love those two idiots just as much as you do."

I didn't think for a second that Bittle would say no, but I still grin at his answer and lean in for a gentle kiss, careful of my nose. Straightening up, I grab his hand and tug him off of the couch.

"Come with me," I plead, threading our fingers together. "My face hurts."

What this has to do with walking the dogs, I don't know, but it feels like it'll work. "We'll get some fresh air and then come back and eat more cookies."

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