#literally me at the end of this
based on this amazing gem that ngozi blessed us with today:
When Bitty first calls Jack “sweetheart,” Jack freezes in place.
For a moment, Bitty thinks it’s just his Skype video acting up, but then his own words catch up to him, play back in his ears like a wave crashing back to shore. Jack’s still frozen on screen, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes widened. Even in low resolution, Jack’s eyes are still so, so blue.
“I—I mean…” Bitty huffs out a breath, wrings the corner of his bedsheet nervously. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—no, well I did, I just—” Bitty laughs, and even to his own ears it sounds forced and fake. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. It’s just, southern habit, I guess, you know.”
He bites his tongue so he doesn’t accidentally say the rest. That calling him “sweetheart” felt so natural and right in his mouth. That he wants to call him other things, like “honey” and “baby” and “darling.” That it’s not just a southern habit, that Bitty wants to save these names for Jack and Jack only, that he wants Jack to know that he’s precious. That Bitty loves him.
Jack’s mouth moves. He says something, but Bitty’s ears are still hot and ringing and he misses it.
“What—what’s that?” Bitty asks, and presses down more firmly on his earbuds.
“I like it when you call me that,” Jack says, quietly, and the way he’s looking up through his lashes is soft and vulnerable and almost demure. “Sweetheart. I like that. A lot. It sounds—it sounds good, when you say it.”
“Oh,” Bitty says, and it’s not even intentional, it’s barely a breath. “You do?”
“I do,” Jack says, and oh, is he blushing?
Bitty suddenly desperately wants to be next to him, wants to be crushed in his embrace and feel how that blush tastes under his tongue.
“I miss you,” he says instead, because it’s true, he misses Jack fiercely, more than anything else in the world. “I miss you so much honey.”
Jack’s mouth parts again, his bottom lip pink and wet. He looks like a man who has seen something beautiful, like a man so very much in love.
“I miss you,” he says back, like it’s a reflex, then seems to collect himself. He chuckles softly. “I’m going to be down next week anyway, you know that.” He smiles again, a wide and shining thing, and Bitty feels so, so lucky.
“Oh, don’t I know it,” Bitty says, and props his chin on top of his folded arms. “I hope you’re ready for the Georgia heat, you poor ice creature. It was over 80 degrees today.”
Jack laughs, chirps, and the rest of their conversation is soft and easy, like it has been ever since graduation back in May. It isn’t long before Bitty looks down at his phone and sees that it’s 2 am.
“Don’t big hockey stars need their sleep?” he teases, and Jack grins at him.
“Don’t want to sleep, want to talk to you,” Jack says, and Bitty feels his heart glow.
“Go to bed. I’ll text you in the morning,” Bitty says. He pauses. “Goodnight, sweetheart.
“Goodnight,” Jack says. He looks radiant. Then, “Mon coeur.”
Bitty doesn’t know what that means, but it warms him down to his bones all the same.
—————
A few days later, when Jack does come down to Madison for the 4th of July, Bitty meets him at the airport and stops just short of launching himself into Jack’s arms. Instead, he leans forward, pushes himself up on his tiptoes.
“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers, and Bitty is so close that he can see in full detail just how Jack reacts to the name: can see the way his mouth trembles, how his eyes shine, how the lines in his face become smiles.
“Hi there,” Jack says back, voice hoarse, almost shy, and he lets go of his duffel bag for just a moment to lace his fingers with Bitty’s, trapping warmth between their palms.
Bitty squeezes, smiles. Slowly, Jack lifts their entwined hands and gives Bitty’s a kiss, closes his eyes, and holds on for as long as he possibly can.
FCKUING FIGHT ME PEI
Soothing the burn of the summer void.
