WHO Jack Zimmermann & Eric Bittle, or for ease of reference "Zimbits" WHERE The Haus WHEN November 11, sometime after Jack runs into his dad WHAT Jack and Bitty wonder if their ghost-like parents conspired against them to push them to Pick A Date. STATUS Complete WARNINGS None, it's just cute. Watch your teeth for cavities.
Bitty didn't remember his walk back to the Haus. Somehow he was in the city, talking to his mama—no, a ghost of his mama, a spectral form in the shape of his mama, goodness, he couldn't seem to figure out what sounded right—the next moment, he was home. Bitty did a fretful pace on the porch, like the bit of time might sort the mess in his head, but it only made it worse, messier, confusing. The only thing, the only person that could make this better, was inside.
He beelined for the kitchen because no conversation should be had without pie. In a flurry of movement, Bitty had warmed up the leftovers of a maple-sugar crusted apple pie (stolen a bite for himself first, then felt guilty for not waiting) before marching upstairs. Bitty put on his best face, the one that said everything is fine, but can we talk about something super tiny, not even a big deal, and hip-checked the bedroom door open.
"Hi, sweetheart!" Bitty said, placing the pie on the desk, and taking his time laying out the napkins and two forks beside the warm dish. But even that tiny procrastinating gesture seemed to break his resolve, and his smile fell. Bitty made a slow shuffle to the edge of the bed and, molasses-slow, climbed onto the bed where Jack was sitting up, and into his lap. No asking required.
Curling tightly against Jack, solid and sure, Bitty let out a soft breath and squeezed his eyes shut. "I saw my mama today."
The pie itself wouldn’t have been strange, but the shuffling? The look. Jack had sat up a little more before he ended up with a lap full of Bitty, but there was no hesitation as he wrapped arms around his fiance and settled them comfortably.
This helped more than he knew. He had compartmentalized this morning, this morning of stopping in the middle of a run because his father was suddenly next to him, ethereal and smiling that slow Zimmermann smile. Their talk had left him sitting alone on a bench for a long while after, letting the memory settle in as a bittersweet but happy thing.
But he hadn’t realized until Bitty’s confession that the bittersweet part was sitting like a weight on his chest.
Jack’s head fell forward to Bitty’s neck, and he pressed a soft and gentle kiss at the skin he found there. He nodded, and his tone wasn’t surprised. “Tell me about it.”
Bitty wanted to melt right then and there. His whole heart felt fuller with Jack's arms around him and that sweet kiss to his neck. Bitty was sure if he hadn't already spilled the beans about his mood, he could just sit here forever and not say a word. Or, well, not say a lot of words, because staying quiet was not something Bitty was skilled at in the slightest.
He walked his fingers up and down a spot on Jack's chest, so easily distracted, not looking him in the eye. "It was like what everyone has been seeing lately. Ghosts but not ghosts? I know mama isn't—" His throat closed up briefly at the thought of death. Bitty shook his head; it was a thought without any legs and he refused to give it any. He continued. "But I saw her. She was right outside of the apothecary, and I thought she's here."
Bitty didn't sound excited, and he leaned back so he could look at Jack's face. "And I didn't know what to say to her first! I tried to hug her but my hands went right through her! And I thought, well I'm not gonna have a lot of time with her, so I need to ask her all the questions I have—I think I messed up her buttered carrots recipe and then she asked about you. And if we set a new date for the wedding."
Jack’s stomach fell into the pit of his feet and he had to brush that particular anxiety away so he could focus on the rambling blonde in his lap. He’d been through years of the agony and anxiety Bitty had gone through when it came to his parents and coming out, and everything after. Things had been good leading up to the engagement and after, and he knew Suzanne had thrown herself into helping plan the wedding.
But that worry, that fear that one conversation could turn things on their side, didn’t belong here. Jack ran a comforting hand up and down Bitty’s back, a repetitive, soothing motion that he knew from experience was a winner in their relationship.
He blew out a little breath and braced himself, “What did you say?” It was a soft question, trying to keep his own anxiety about the whole situation directed away from his fiance, but he still felt the need for a little defense. “Your buttered carrots were delicious, though.”
"I mean, what do you say to that? I couldn't lie to her, I couldn't not tell her we were planning something here with the boys because we didn't want to wait until we, maybe, went home." Bitty was still frowning, but he struggled to keep it. Jack's soothing hand on his back was chasing away all the bad thoughts faster than they could materialize.
Bitty let out a huff. "And the carrots were overcooked. I should have known the butter would add to the heat in the pan and continue to cook them just past—nevermind! I'll work on it, I didn't even ask her about the recipe, because I told her we did." He surprised himself by admitting it out loud. That somehow the conversation with his phantom-mother wasn't real until he told someone else, told Jack.
"It was like she knew, honey. And she wasn't mad. She didn't look mad, or upset. She looked—" And here Bitty offered Jack a small, encouraging smile. "She said, 'Dickey, if y'all are happy, then the rest is just icing.'" Bitty had asked her what kind and she said vanilla buttercream, but he didn't think that was necessary to add.
Jack’s anxiety settled so easily with that explanation, his face morphed into something so much more calm as he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He pointed a crooked smile at Bitty that said so much more than Jack ever did - it was full of love and fondness, both for “Dickey” and for his mother. Even if they didn’t get married here, Jack’s heart swelled at the idea of his future mother-in-law giving them her support.
“I’ll have to introduce her to my Uncle Wayne at some point,’ Jack replied easily, as if he didn’t already have plans to introduce the Bittles to Uncle Wayne at their rehearsal dinner back home. That was bound to be a fun meeting, and there was a little pang of disappointment that they couldn’t have it here.
“I-uh-” It was never an easy thing for him to shift a conversation to himself, even if Bitty was unbelievably generous with his time and the pair meshed well as far as that went, but Jack still flushed a little. “I saw my dad, this morning?” He laughed, quietly, and brushed a piece of Bitty’s hair absently. “I wonder if they conspired.”
Even for all his tightly-wound babbling, Bitty could feel something shift between him and Jack. A relief of another kind from his fiance. It made Bitty smile, big and wide, growing like a sunrise. He liked the idea of his family meeting Jack's family. Everyone intermingled extending in different directions because they, he and Jack, had come together.
His mama had been right: it didn't matter where or when or who was there, only that they were happy and everything else would fall into place. Except—
"Jack Zimmermann," Bitty said, looking absolutely appalled. "How dare you not lead with that!" Of course, Bitty happened to quickly forget that he had been the one to suspiciously shuffle into the room, looking miserable and leeching affection, with no room for Jack to actually say anything. But, technicalities. Bitty was paying attention now, he was listening now.
"Tell me everything! Do you think they spoke to one another? Were you the only one who could see him? I was talking to mama and I swear people were giving me strange looks, I don't think they could see her. Probably thought I was losing it, I mean—" Bitty waved his hands in front of his face, shushing himself. "What did he say?"
Jack narrowly dodged the waving of Bitty’s hands - wasn’t the first time, he was proficient in Eric Bittle Talking Hands - with a flush of embarrassment. He shrugged, casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal they’d both seen two of their parents during all of this. Vallo’s wildness was still so strange to him, but became less and less unusual with each passing day.
Dinosaurs, magic, minotaurs that sold bagels-- Ghosts were somewhere in the middle of that scale, as wild as that was. Ghosts of their not-dead parents was somehow just as strange and not at all, like well, this was bound to happen. But his father had been comforting, like Suzanne, and Jack idly wondered if that was the purpose. To help them.
“I think I was the only one, I tried to touch him and went right through, like you.” Jack smiled fondly at the thought of his father’s french. “Skate to where the puck is going to be, not to where it has been. It was in Québécois, but I’d just have to translate it for you anyway, so--” Now he was teasing.
His eyes were wide, earnestly curious, waiting patiently as Jack explained his conversation with his father. It seemed telling that both their parents had arrived to comfort them similar things—things Bitty had told himself multiple times, and somehow they didn't stick. But it was different coming from his mother, it solidified something that had been tossing around in his chest even as he and Jack decided to have their wedding here, sooner, without family.
Bitty placed his hand on Jack's arm, doing his own comforting motion. But abruptly stopped, and he squeezed. "Honey," Bitty said, trying for mad. But it was difficult for him to do so. Not about this. Instead he leaned in to kiss him, and pulled away to bump noses, soft and sweet. "My French is not that bad. I would have gotten some of it!" Maybe, maybe.
He jumped out of bed in a flash, returning with the pie and a fork. "So what do you think it all means?" Bitty asked, as he cut into the crust. "I know what it means for me, and I'm pretty sure I know what it means for you, but—" He offered Jack a forkful of pie, because he wouldn't Eric Bittle if he wasn't trying to feed the people he loved first.
Jack was a sucker for Bitty feeding him pie, especially when it was his favorite pie and conjured up a million happy memories of that time Bitty had fed it to him for his birthday. So pie won out, over explanations and musing over their parents, and laughing at Bitty for defending his terrible French skills. The thoughts didn’t stray far, though, and Jack only accepted two bites before getting back to the topic at hand.
“I think it means--” He paused, suddenly a little unsure about what it meant, despite the obvious connections. “I think they’re telling us not to stop living our lives just because we’re here? And that we have their blessings to make a life together.” Jack smiled that crooked smile of his and settled a hand on Bitty’s hip so he could flex his fingers against something solid. “What do you think it means?”
Jack may have stopped at two bites, but Bitty took the opportunity to eat the third. He nodded with the fork in his mouth, in agreement. Live their life, be happy, take their blessings and run with them. Bitty didn't think he would ever get that much of a sign from Vallo, but if a ghost of his mama wasn't enough to nudge him in the right direction, then nothing would, short of going home.
"I think it means you and I have a wedding to plan, goodness." Bitty placed a hand over his heart, as if the revelation shocked him. They knew they would have to marry in Vallo, but setting a date had been a complication, a hold out. Now it didn't matter, there was no need to wait. "By the winter? Maybe January. Is that too soon? We can elope. Well, we could but even then, I think there is a limit to what mama would find acceptable, and there is a difference between giving blessings for weddings and blessings for running off without anyone involved."
Bitty took a deep breath. They had already made these plans. They already decided what they would do for their wedding. But now it felt sooner, more real. "There's so much to do," Bitty said, returning to the pie, shoveling bites into his mouth a little more frantic than before. "Do you think they showed up just to stress us out? Like a test."
Jack laughed. He shouldn’t have, since Bitty was working himself into a frantic rush at inhuman speeds, but at least it was on the more-fun end of frantic instead of the kind that made him sick to his stomach. He reached in and gently snagged the pie plate away from his fiance, took a bite before it was gone, and then set it to the side.
“Hey,” his voice shifted dramatically in an instant, going soft and gentle. Jack’s hand came up to cup Bitty’s cheek. “No stress, okay? I already told you this, but I’d marry you tomorrow, dragging all of our friends along and have no regrets ever about it.” He let his thumb slide along Bitty’s cheek, and Jack leaned in for a kiss, lingering sweetly.
He was going for calming, though kissing Bitty was always a little bit of a risk of getting sidetracked with the next kiss, and the one after that-- he had to stop himself while he was ahead, and just lean in to press his lips to Bitty’s collarbone. “Like your mom said-- ‘The rest is just icing’. I love you, this world and the next, and we can get married a dozen times if we have to.”
Bitty made a small noise of displeasure when Jack took away the pie plate. He even did a little reach for it, but Jack was faster, and Bitty had to let it go. He opened his mouth to complain—something along the lines of Jack Zimmermann, how dare you try to take away pie when it is needed!, but he was stopped short with a hand to his cheek. Jack always knew how to press that instant-calm button.
"I know, honey. No stress. It's just before it was an option to have a second wedding first, in case our family showed up here, and now we have every option. We can do everything we wanted, and I want to do everything and maybe I should have another bite of pie before—" Oh, kissing was good. Kissing was a surefire way to stop that spiral. Stressing was much more difficult when it was only Bitty, and nowhere for it to go.
And for one precious second, Bitty just stayed in that moment with Jack, pressed together. "I love you, too, Jack, so much," Bitty murmured softly into Jack's hair, before his tone grew from sweetly tender to deathly serious. "But do not tempt me. Because I will absolutely plan a dozen weddings, one for every month."
Jack laughed against Bitty’s skin. He knew a serious threat when he heard one, but it wasn’t like that threat was the sort that would scare him off. Well, the next thought maybe did scare him a little, but mostly it made him laugh. “A different theme for every month. Shitty dressed as a rabbit for Easter. Lardo dressed as a Christmas tree.”
The whole thing was ridiculous and endearing at the same time, much like all of their friends. Even if he knew that people showing up dressed as Christmas trees to their wedding might just be enough to set his adorable fiance running for the hills. Maybe.
Jack laughed again, at himself and at them, relief had settled on his heart and in his chest and it made him feel soft and loved all at once. He’d never expected this for himself, to have this, to have someone that fit him as perfectly as Eric Bittle did. He leaned back to look Bitty in the eyes. “One wedding, a dozen weddings. Themed or not, sign me up, I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.”
There was one thing in this world better than everything else, and it was Jack Zimmermann's laugh. It warmed every bit of Bitty from the inside out, and he knew he would do anything to hear it all the time, any time. He swooped back in to kiss the words right out of his mouth. I'm lucky too honey, you mean the world was mumbled between each press of their mouths.
But a thought stuck in his head. A dozen weddings would be a logistical nightmare, and while having multiple chances to get the wedding right, he couldn't afford to be stressed consistently for a year. Even if thought of Shitty wearing a bunny costume to their wedding (God forbid, that would hamper his flow and that felt like cruel and unusual punishment) was hilarious. For a moment. Their families might have something to say about—
"Wait. Wait, wait wait." A new revelation dawned on him again and Bitty quickly leaned in to kiss Jack, then was crawling off the bed to pace. He did better when he paced. "Your dad said skate where the puck is going and my mama talked about icing, which food but... sweetheart, I know I turned it down before, but that was because I was still thinking of planning our wedding in case, but there's no reason to have in case anymore. I think they were tryin' to tell us something."
Bitty let out a deep breath. "Faber is always open? We wouldn't have to wait."
Jack wasn’t quick enough to grab Bitty by the hips and pull him back, so he was stuck watching his fiance pace across the floor. It was a fairly normal occurrence, happened even when the topic wasn’t their wedding and something like Beyonce dropping an album suddenly and without warning. Or the hidden meanings behind that Hozier song? So Jack knew it wasn’t all stress, just Bitty’s way, and he waited quietly and patiently.
Mostly. He opened his mouth a few times to talk, and then closed it again and ultimately just ended up huffing out a surprised laugh. “You were wildly against getting married on the ice, Bits. We’re not changing that now just because my dad was quoting Wayne Gretzky.”
Jack’s hand twitched with the desire to reach out and snag Bitty and pull him back. He edged himself to the end of the bed, hoping to give the blonde a hint to come closer. “We’re in a world filled with magic and a magical forest. I proposed to you in Faber because that’s where it all started, but maybe we should pick something Vallo to continue that tradition? It doesn’t need to be tomorrow.”
"I know, I know! I'm just thinking out loud, because this is a lot, now." Bitty threw up his arms in defeat, but he still wasn't looking at Jack. He was sorting through all the thoughts and ideas that seemed to have been sitting in the mental maybe pile of wedding ideas. Ones that were ridiculous, impossible, and needed convincing but Bitty could come around. His mind was a windstorm of emotion and excitement, and in the middle of it was—was—
"Jack, honey," Bitty said on an exhale, and the frantic energy that had been building seemed to sag out of him at seeing Jack's face. Bitty drifted back toward him, a little calmer. "So Faber is back on the no list. And you want—the forest? Do you want to get married in the forest?" Bitty's hand went to his mouth in an attempt to hold back that soft oh that came tumbling out.
A wedding that was literally magic could be more iconic than Lady Gaga hatching from her egg at the 2011 Grammys.
"That is the most magical place in Vallo, I just worry about our guests getting lost trying to get there. But I suppose if we stay close to that adorable inn, right by the waypoint—" He leaned in to swiftly kiss Jack. "Do I need to slow down? You said it doesn't have to be tomorrow but I want to be ready in case tomorrow you say tomorrow."
Jack laughed in the middle of the kiss, but wrapped his large hands around Bitty’s waist, encompassing it with a gentle and firm hold so that his fiance couldn’t run all around the room like an excited puppy again. As much as he loved that excited puppy. “You could win the Cup with this kind of speed, Bits.” He sounded so fond, so enamored.
But he was also slow and steady, except on the ice, and Jack wasn’t afraid to get Bitty to chill a little. He knew these distraction techniques well, from the Thesis Saga, and he didn’t want to turn it into a situation that Bitty would in any way dread something like their wedding. He’d already worried about this back home, but having a wedding planner and a lot of other people around to add a sense of calm had been helpful - but their wedding was still months away then.
They’d already been here for several of those months, catching up without that wedding planner and with it just looming.
Jack sighed, and his hands stretched across Bitty’s hockey butt to pull the blonde in between his legs. “You know what I think? I think we should look at the forest as an option, but get our friends to help. Put something together with people that love us, and that’ll make it perfect? If you’re ready for this?”
Bitty came easily into Jack, his hands on him were a surefire way to get Bitty to melt. The forest sounded dreamy, and it would be romantic. Not typically them, but Vallo wasn't typically them. Bitty was slowly leaning into Jack for a kiss to say okay when disaster hit.
The absolutely horrified expression that came over Bitty's face was enough to think Jack asked for carnations at the wedding. Or, no, worse—that Jack had suggested they get married in their jerseys again. Bitty drew the line.
"Jack Laurent Zimmermann, did you just ask if I was ready to marry you? I am frankly affronted that you would ever think there was any time or place or world that I wasn't ready to marry you!" The sentiment should have been sweet, but the way Bitty said it was aggressive, like an angry kitten. He wanted there to be no doubt that he was in this with Jack—always, completely, irrevocably. If anything, Bitty should have been asking Stanley Cup Champion Jack Zimmermann if he was ready for this.
Bitty was crashing into Jack, pushing him down onto the bed, and kissing him in, well, the softest way possible. "You never need to ask that again, but if you do, the answer is always the same. Of course, I am."
Despite the feral takedown that was launched into his arms, Jack was laughing when he was tackled. He went down easily, hands finding purchase above him on Bitty. He found it hot, this abrupt tornado of a man so violently into him and not afraid to show it. That aggressiveness said more to him than any amount of sweetness could, and Jack was living for it.
“Okay okay,” He dropped his hands back in mock surrender, not fighting back or doing anything other than seeking another kiss. “I’ll never do it again, I swear.” He should have sounded contrite, but Jack just sounded as smug as he looked, and utterly in love.
That smugness branched out, and he stretched ever so slightly under Bitty, flexing muscles he knew would distract. “But, just in case, you might need to remind me a little more, eh?"