Chapter Text
March
"Hey, so I've been thinking," Bitty says, his head in Jack's lap. Bitty's been watching the Food Network while Jack reads, but he's just muted it. "When you play the Bruins next week, do you wanna get dinner with Ransom and Holster?"
"Sure," Jack says. He hasn't met Bitty's other college friends yet, beyond playing against Holster a few times.
Bitty sits up. "I'd really like to tell them about us."
Jack had a feeling that was coming. He's still not a hundred percent comfortable with someone on another team knowing yet, but he did say they could talk about it. "You really trust him with that? I mean, I'm sure if he's friends with both you and Shitty he'd never out someone on purpose, but even the wrong offhand comment in the locker room, totally by accident…"
"He's not gonna do that," Bitty says with complete confidence, "because he's used to keeping that kind of thing quiet. It'd be a double date, sweetheart."
"Oh." Jack lets things reorganize themselves in his head for a minute. "I guess he wouldn't, then. You've talked about him and Ransom before, but you never said they were—I mean, I guess you wouldn't. So does that mean you asked him about this?"
"I have spent the past week playing a very careful game of Don't Out Anybody Without Their Permission," Bitty says with a chuckle. "I told him and Ransom I've got a boyfriend, and said I'd like them to meet him, as a couple. And he was kinda wary of it like you are, of course. But Lardo and Shitty assured him that you can be trusted, and between the three of us he eventually said okay. But then he noticed I've never told him so much as your name, and I told him you were in a position where you couldn't be outed, either, and then he started getting all protective of me and Shitty and Lardo had to reassure him again that I wasn't being kept some dirty little secret. Then he started trying to guess who it was, like if you were like a politician or a famous athlete—he did guess Falconers at one point—or what, and I'm glad it was over text so my face couldn't give anything away, I'll tell you that. I was finally like look, you know full well I can't tell you until I talk to him. So anyhow. Here I am, talking to you."
"So you've been plotting behind my back for a week now?" Jack asks, but he's grinning in amusement.
"Pretty much," Bitty says. "So now I've got permission from Party A to disclose their identity to Party B, I just need permission from Party B to disclose to Party A, and I'm starting to think this would all have been simpler if I just had Shitty draft some non-disclosure agreements or something."
"Well, yes, obviously." Jack kisses Bitty's cheek. "If that's the situation, you can tell him."
"Oh, good! Oh, and… you might want to tell him about your plan for this summer? I know he's been getting really down because they can't get married while it's a secret, but he isn't exactly at your level career-wise so he doesn't wanna be the first. I can't promise anything, but I have a feeling he might give you some backup, though." Bitty digs his phone out while he talks.
"Sure, we can talk about it over dinner. …Are you calling him now?"
"Might as well," Bitty says with a grin. "I wanna hear his reaction when he finds out it's you. Him and Rans both, honestly. Now you didn't hear this from me, but Ransom has the biggest crush on Tater, like I hope Tater's as straight as you think he is because otherwise, if you can introduce him Holster's probably gonna get his ass kicked to the curb."
Jack laughs, then listens to Bitty's side of the conversation.
"Hey, you remember how I was asking if you guys wanted to meet my boyfriend?" There are muted rumblings from the phone. "Y'all wanna catch dinner after your game against the Falconers next week?"
"I knew it!" Jack can hear the shouting through the phone speaker even from a foot away. "You're dating a fucking Falconer! Holy shit, Bits, please tell me it's not Mashkov, because then you and I are both gonna wind up single and look, I love you, bro, but I just don't think we're compatible like that, y'know?"
I told you, Bitty mouths, then says out loud, "Calm down, as far as I know, Alexei Mashkov is straight."
"So who the fuck is it? C'mon, Bits, spill—Rans!—he just got home, hang on a sec—Dude, Bitty's dating a fucking Falconer, I fucking told you!"
Jack hears a different voice. "Oh. Ohhhh, Bitty, my man, tell me it's not Mashkov, I don't wanna have to steal your man, Bits."
"He already said it's not. So c'mon, who the fuck is it, bro? There are so many hot guys on that team!"
"I know you guys know this already, and obviously I trust you, but I've just gotta say it in case: You know you can't tell tell anyone, right? Like, not a soul beyond Lardo and Shitty 'cause they already know."
"Duh!" they say in unison.
"You know we know how it is, bro." Jack thinks that's Holster, but it's hard to tell when he's not the one actually on the phone. They're both really loud, or he wouldn't be able to hear everything to start with.
Bitty curls into Jack's side and half-hides his face in Jack's shoulder, which is adorable. Jack wraps an arm around him and squeezes.
"I'm datin' Jack Zimmermann."
There are a couple beats of silence, then at first they both seem to be talking at a respectably normal volume.
"Oh my god."
"Oh my god, Bitty. Rans, did you hear that?"
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Holy crap, man."
"He's not joking."
"Bitty. You actually mean to tell me that you are dATING JACK ZIMMERMANN'S ASS?"
Bitty has to actually hold his phone away from his ear by the end, and Jack cracks up.
"I am not, I am dating the entire Jack Zimmermann, thank you very much!"
"Oh fuck, is that him laughing? Did he hear that?" Holster raises his voice again. "Sorry, Jack! I have nothing but the utmost respect for your ass, and I will continue to do so long after we kick it next week. Bitty, let us talk to him."
"Oh, hell no," Bitty starts, but Jack takes the phone from him.
"Brave words after my hatty last month, Birkholtz. I didn't realize I'd scared you guys that bad."
"Ohhhhhhhh, damn!" He hears Ransom in the background.
"Yeah, yeah," Holster says easily. "We can shit-talk later, bro. Look, seriously though, you better be treating Bitty right. I know Shitty and Lardo like you, and trust me, that goes a long way with us, but if you hurt that tiny ball of Georgia sunshine I will not hesitate for a second to take it out on you on the ice, got it?"
"Holster!" Bitty tries to take the phone, but Jack has a tight hold on it. "Are you threatening my boyfriend? Seriously?"
"It's okay, Bits," Jack says, and kisses his forehead. "Hey, I'm glad he's got friends who are willing to stand up for him, but trust me, it's not necessary. Both because I have no intention of ever hurting him, and because—didn't you live with him for two years? Have you seen him when he's pissed off? If I break this man's heart he will lay a trap for me where I least expect it and ensure my career is over before you even get a shot at me, then trash my reputation across this city, if not up and down the entire east coast, all without ever being so crass as to out me or letting anyone believe he's being anything other than perfectly polite. And he'd have Lardo to help him do it."
"Oh shit, bro," Holster says quietly.
"He's right, bro," Jack hears in the background. "Man, be nice to him, he's either gonna marry Bitty or spend the rest of his life as a social outcast with only like three functioning body parts. Either way, be nice."
"I would do no such thing," Bitty says, but he looks far too smug saying it.
"I saw what you did when that juice company tried to rip you off," Jack insists. "Nobody in Providence carries that brand of juice anymore! And it only happened a month ago! I don't even know how they all got out of their contracts so fast!"
Bitty looks far too pleased with himself. "You say such sweet things, honey. Now lemme talk to 'em."
"I'll see you next week, then, eh?" Jack says into the phone.
"Looking forward to it!"
The Bruins go down easier than the Schooners did. Jack doesn't get a hat trick like he did the last time against them, but he does get a goal and an assist.
They go to an Indian restaurant with a private room, so that neither couple has to worry about being seen together. Ransom and Holster have the easy chemistry of a long-term couple, bickering over menu items ("That'll give you heartburn." "I'll be fine." "Holtzy, I love you, man, but I'm not dealing with your whining all night. I'm on call starting at seven.") and correcting each other's stories ("Bro, that was your sister, not my sister." "Are you sure?" "We were in Toronto, Rans, remember?" "Oh right, that was the year before we started dating.").
Jack keeps looking over at Bitty, hoping they get to that point. It hasn't been long, but he thinks they will. The past two months have easily been some of the happiest of his life. They see each other every day Jack's in town, Bitty spending the night more often than not (Jack managed to convince him it's not a "walk of shame" if Jack gets up and walks him home or to work, and since the weather started staying above freezing he's complained much less about it). Bitty comes to most of his home games and he's met Jack's friends on the team, who all adore him. Jack's even come out to the rest of the team because it was just getting too awkward to talk about Bitty at all without making it obvious they're together. Only a couple of the guys seem uncomfortable with it, but none of them are in a position to say a damn thing out of line to their star player and not risk being traded mid-season.
Eventually Jack manages to bring up his plan to come out when the season is over.
"Bro," Ransom and Holster reply in unison. "Seriously?"
"That's fucking amazing, man," Holster adds.
Bitty is looking at Jack like he put the stars in the sky, and Jack remembers for the hundredth time how worth it this will be.
He shrugs. "If I can't do it, how could anyone else possibly be expected to? Worst case, my career is over and I've only got one Art Ross, y'know? Poor me."
Holster and Ransom have a silent conversation that Jack pretends not to see, although Bitty is clearly watching. He's known these guys long enough that he can probably interpret half of it.
"You should talk to PR first, bro," Ransom finally says. Jack perks up.
"Yeah, yeah," Holster replies, then turns to Jack and Bitty. "As much as I wanna just say I'll do it, too, he's right. You've cleared this with the Falcs?"
"Yeah, I've been talking to them about it for nearly a year now. Management and PR have been really supportive. Some of them I'd say are even excited for it." Jack pauses for a second. "Have you talked to your team at all?"
It's Ransom who answers. "He's never like, stood up in the locker room and yelled 'I like guys!', but it's basically an open secret with his teammates, y'know? I mean, we've been living together for years, and then we went and bought a house together, you can't really hide that shit. There's a couple assholes, but most of 'em are all right. The PR team is awesome, if they were in charge we'd have it made. Management, though…" He shakes his head.
"I mean, Jacobs is a dick," Holster picks up, referring to the Bruins' owner. "Everyone knows that. I've talked to the GMs, and they would 'prefer I didn't make any waves' but they also don't want to look like homophobic asswipes. So bottom line, if I did it myself they'd probably put out a generic statement of support and then trade me in like a year."
Jack winces, but nods. It sounds about right.
"But bro, if someone like you came out, too? Not gonna lie, that'd make a huge difference. Especially if the Falcs are really supportive." Holster grins. "What kind of dicks would the Bruins look like if they're not as enthusiastic, right?"
"PR's on our side already," Ransom says. "Talk to them first, they're gonna love this, and they can help you take it to management." Holster nods.
"Look," Jack says, "if you're serious, try not to mention my name directly too early, but tell them to contact Falconers PR about it. This'll go better if everyone involved is working together, y'know? And I've got one other person who's interested. Do you know anyone else?"
Kent finally relented just last week, once Jack made it clear that he's definitely doing it no matter what.
"Yeah he does," Ransom says, grinning widely.
"Oh my goodness, if you two had a threesome with someone I do not want to hear about it," Bitty says, blushing.
Holster rolls his eyes, but there's definite fondness there. So far, Jack has really enjoyed seeing how much Bitty's college friends love him.
"Fine, bro. Jack, I'll have my people call your people about it, then—"
"You'll have your people call his people?" Ransom interrupts. "Really, brah?"
"Bro. I have always wanted to say that to someone, and I've been in the fucking NHL for almost three years now without ever becoming important enough or famous enough to say it, just let me have this, bro." He turns back to Jack, who is honestly busy being amused that these two have been romantic partners for several years now and still call each other bro. "Anyhow. Once we get all the PR people lined up, I'll talk to that other guy, get his team looped in if he's interested. I'll let you know, okay?"
June
Bitty drives him to the stadium, and Jack gives him a quick kiss before getting out of the car. Bitty will come back with Jack's parents just before game time.
Bitty's taken some time off from the bakery so he can be at every game of the Stanley Cup finals, home and away. He's sat with Bob and Alicia every time, and it's definitely starting to draw a little attention. Most people aren't really looking at who's in the stands, of course, but anyone who does is going to be paying attention to Bob Zimmermann, and when the same short blonde guy around Jack's age, who's never been seen with Bob and Alicia before, is sitting next to him every time, at some point someone is bound to wonder who that is. Luckily, nobody's asked Jack about it directly, but there's been speculation.
Jack is pretty excited to put all the speculation to rest.
It's game seven, so one way or another, this will all be over soon. There's a plan in place if they win tonight. There's a plan in place if they don't win tonight.
Either way, they'll be out by the end of the week. Jack, Holster, Kent, and this guy Lunsford from the Maple Leafs who has apparently, Jack is chagrined to know, hooked up with Kent and Holster and Ransom in the past, although he's in a monogamous relationship now. That part will not be made public, as far as Jack knows, and if it is, it's not his problem anyhow. He does wish that the group were a little less incestuous, but it's hard for them to know who else in the league is queer other than guys they've personally slept with. There are a few more Kent's talked to, but they're all waiting to see how it goes for that first group.
Either way, Bitty is moving in with Jack at the end of the summer. He's gone from staying over most nights to every night Jack is in town, and his belongings are already starting to migrate from his own place to Jack's. One day Jack woke up to realize he had an entire drawer full of Bitty's shorts, and he wasn't even sure when it had happened. But with him there, Jack's new condo finally feels like a home. Shitty is currently studying for the Rhode Island bar exam, and will be moving down to Providence and getting a place with Lardo. Bitty is going to use the money he'll make from renting out the apartment above the shop to help hire a replacement for Lardo, who is looking for full-time graphic design jobs now that she's finished her MFA. Coming out won't even be the biggest change in their lives this summer, and that's kind of a relief, honestly.
Either way, Jack is pretty sure he's starting the rest of his life after tonight, and he couldn't be happier. Either way, it's all taken care of, so Jack can concentrate on hockey.
The Canucks put up a fight, but that's no surprise. The whole series has been rough, every one of the Falconers' victories coming in overtime. When this game also goes into overtime, Jack just hopes that they continue to be the team with better stamina.
Tater gets the winning goal, and for a second Jack just stares at the net. Then someone crashes into him, and all hell breaks loose.
When he finally makes it out of the huge pile of Falconers, Bitty is over at the side of the ice, crying. Jack can't quite go to him yet, because people are lining up to shake the Canucks' hands, but he blows him a kiss.
Finally Jack skates over, and he's riding high on a lot of different emotions right at that moment, so he barely even thinks before scooping Bitty up.
It's a really, really good thing that this was their plan all along, because he's pretty sure no force on earth could keep him from kissing his boyfriend on live television right now.
There's a huge swarm of people surrounding them, of course, so no one's really paying that much attention as he presses Bitty against the boards. Bitty's fingers tangle in his sweaty hair as they kiss, and the sounds of the stadium fall away for a moment. They're in a little bubble, just the two of them, kissing and murmuring their love to each other.
They're finally disrupted by Poots, who knocks into Jack from the side yelling, "Zimmermann, stop sucking on your boy's face for five minutes, will ya? I know you're tryin'a get the media's attention but we're all gonna get cavities over here!"
They both laugh, faces red. Bitty covers his face with his hands.
"Oh my goodness, Jack! We just did that!"
"We did! Wanna do it again?" But before Jack can get their mouths back together, Tater has come over and is ruffling Bitty's hair.
"Bitty! You make us cake in shape of Stanley Cup, yes?"
"I guess I have to, don't I?" Bitty laughs and ducks out of Tater's reach, putting Jack between them. But a reporter pulls Tater away to ask him his twelfth question about how it felt to get the winning goal, so Bitty is safe for the moment.
Jack greets his parents and poses for photos—everyone wants a photo of him and his dad with the Cup. Then he takes a selfie with Bitty and the Cup. Bitty posts it to his personal Twitter account (when Jack found out about that, he couldn't help but chirp Bitty for giving him his phone number instead, but Bitty has no shame about having seized the opportunity that was presented to him) with the caption, "Some guys get their boyfriend flowers or chocolates, mine got me this big shiny Cup! #Falconers #StanleyCup2020 #LoveWins #thisboy".
They both know that Bob and the Falconers will retweet it. Holster and Ransom will post a congratulatory selfie together, as will Lunsford and his boyfriend. Jack has no idea what Kent will say, but he's planning to come out via Twitter as well.
It turns out, Kent retweets their photo almost immediately, adding "TFW ur ex gets the Cup & a cute new guy, & ur stuck at home w ur cat. Joke's on you, Zimms, I like Kit better than any guy I've hooked up w!" Then he posts a picture of himself kissing his cat.
"Well, that's one way to do it." Bitty looks up despairingly at Jack, who is wrapped around him from behind. "Did the Aces PR really sign off on that?"
"I seriously doubt it," Jack says, laughing at Bitty's phone.
Just then, someone tugs on Jack's arm. "Zimmermann, don't think you're getting out of postgame interviews just because you have your own PR stunt to pull off. C'mon."
Jack gives Bitty a kiss on the cheek and heads over to where a small cluster of reporters are waiting for him.
Word of the tweet has clearly spread quickly. A woman with dark hair jumps right in. "Jack, can we take this photo that the Falconers have retweeted as confirmation that you're dating a man?"
"What?" another reporter, an older, balding man, mutters, then pulls out his own phone. The other reporters give him a strange look; he's clearly the only person not in the know.
"Yes, that's my boyfriend, Eric Bittle."
"Does this mean that you're the first out gay player in the NHL?"
"I'm bisexual, actually. I am the first openly queer player, yes, but I think if you check Twitter again you'll find that I'm already not the only one."
"Jack! What does Kent Parson mean when he refers to you as his ex?"
"It means we used to date, and we don't anymore. Exactly what ex usually means."
"Jack, did you plan this with Parson and Lunsford, or are they just riding your coattails?"
"Um, first off, you might want to check Adam Birkholtz's Twitter as well." There's a flurry as the reporters type into their phones. "Second, yes, the four of us planned this. Third, if any other players are inspired to come out after this, I hope nobody will see them as riding on anyone's coattails. It'll be hard to be first, but it won't be easy to be tenth, either, and every player in the NHL who at any point in the future decides to let the public know that they're not straight is doing a very brave thing and deserves our full support."
"Jack, you've been playing hockey in your father's shadow for a very long time. Do you feel like winning the Stanley Cup finally gives you a chance to shine on your own?"
"Wait, are we talking about hockey now? Did hockey happen today?" The reporters laugh in surprise; Jack doesn't make jokes during interviews often, though he's not quite as robotic as he was as a rookie. "It obviously wasn't easy to go into the same career that my father saw so much success in, and you all know that it took its toll on my mental health when I was younger. But I honestly haven't felt like I was playing in his shadow for a few years now. Winning the Calder my rookie year proved to myself, and to anyone else paying attention, that I was my own player. Obviously, I'm beyond thrilled to win the Stanley Cup, and more than that I'm honored to be on such a talented and hard-working team. And I know my father is proud of all my achievements. This is a great accomplishment, but it's not the defining moment of my career."
"Is your father proud of that photo on Twitter? Do you think Bob Zimmermann is happy that his son is telling the world he's gay?" Jack doesn't know who this reporter is, but the man has a snide sort of voice and clearly thinks he's just caught Jack out somehow. Jack grits his teeth before answering.
"First off, as I said before, I'm bisexual, not gay. I'm not sure why you've got that microphone if you're not going to pay attention to the things I say." A couple of the other reporters shoot delighted glares at the man who asked the question. "Second, given the amount of speculation recently on Eric's identity, I'm pretty sure it was made clear before tonight that my parents have spent a lot of time with him and adore him, and I'm sure they love the photo of us together. Proud, I don't know; the composition was a little messy, to tell you the truth, but my father doesn't know much about photography so I'm not sure he'd notice."
That draws a few more chuckles, which feels nice. It's too bad Jack is pretty sure he won't be able to replicate this easy joking once the endorphins from the victory and the kissing have worn off.
"Last question," a man from the Falconers' PR department tells the reporters, then points at one.
"It's been a very big night for you, Jack. Would you rather be congratulated on winning the Stanley Cup, or on that kiss we all saw you and Eric share earlier?"
Jack's cheeks hurt, he's smiling so hard. "I honestly can't say. I was lucky enough to have two of the best moments of my life tonight. But I'm sure there are even better to come, both with hockey and with Eric."