Work Header

Swear That We'll Be Fine

Work Text:

Hey Bittle, you’re getting back to Samwell early right? You should come visit me in Providence.

Bitty stares at his phone, because yeah he’s been texting Jack the entire summer but Jack’s never indicated that he wants Bitty to visit—

Oh, who the hell is he kidding?

He lets out a squeal and does an impromptu little dance, because—he’s going to get to spend time with Jack! Well, a very much taken Jack, but still. Jack’s his best friend. He’s allowed to be excited, right?

He swallows back the lump in his throat that forms every single time he thinks about that night (the Epikegster, flashes of conversation, of overhearing Jack and Parse very much reconnecting in Jack’s room, waking up the next morning to find them in the kitchen, kissing, Lord), even though it’s been over six months since then and he’s had plenty of time to get over it.

And he has tried to get over it, really, because now that Jack’s graduated and is in a relationship, it’s kind of ridiculous to still be crushing on him, but—well. That’s still a work in progress.

He needs to reply to Jack’s text, so he types ‘Yeah, that’d be great! Do you have a day in mind? Might need a ride though, hope that’s not a problem?’ and presses send.

His phone buzzes a couple of minutes later.

Wednesday before your classes start would work, you can stay the night if you want. Yeah, that’s not a problem, but I might have to get Parse to drive you if that’s okay, sorry?

Ah. Shit. Parse is in Providence with Jack, isn’t he? Well. It’s worth it, to see Jack, even though thinking about them together sends nervousness bubbling, eroding at his stomach. It’s not that he dislikes Parse, quite the contrary in fact—Parse was perfectly lovely to Bitty at the Epikegster, and it seems like Parse makes Jack happy. But Bitty kind of wishes he did hate Parse, because everything would be so much easier if he could channel all his frustration toward hatred of some sort.

As it stands, he can’t feel jealous. Just a little guilty, and a little sad.

He sighs, briefly considering turning Jack down—but that’s not even a choice, really. He wants to see Jack, even if Parse is there, even if he has to watch them kiss and talk and maybe even love each other. He’ll have to be okay with that.

I’m fine with that day, and no problem! :) Just give him my number and have him text when he’s leaving please?

Sure, see you then

He’s going to see Jack in less than a week—that thought alone is enough to make him want to start thinking about packing, to get out of Madison as soon as possible. As he’s eyeing the pile of dirty laundry that’s spilled out of his hamper, his phone buzzes again with a text from an unknown number.

hey, this is kent, just let me know later what time you want me to pick you up cuz you probably don’t know yet right?

Bitty swallows down the instinctive pulse of distress at the thought of being cooped up in a car with Parse for half an hour. But ugh, he’s being ridiculous. Parse is a good guy—Bitty’s not allowed to hate him on principle.

Yep will do :) Thanks for the ride!

He’ll be okay. He’ll spend the week thinking nice thoughts about Jack (but not too nice), and about going back to Samwell and about life in general because he’s excited about this, really. He can’t let silly worries get in the way.


Okay, yeah, he’s definitely let his worries get way too much in the way because he’s sitting on the front porch of the Haus, terribly jittery as he waits for Parse to pull up. He’d spent the better part of yesterday reading Parse’s tweets and interviews and looking at pictures of him, which hadn’t exactly helped make him less nervous—all it had accomplished was making him aware that Parse is, well, really hot. And funny.

And okay, Bitty might have a little baby crush on him now, which only serves to make him more nervous about the state of his life in the next twenty-four hours. He’s trying not to analyze it too much, because he has a sneaking suspicion that his crush is partially just because Parse is close to Jack, which isn’t much of a grounds to have a crush on at all. He’s barely even spoken to Parse for crying out loud—Lord, what is he doing?

He looks up at the crunching of gravel, and—oh, of course Parse pulls up the drive in a freaking Ferrari. Bitty does his best to sigh the nervousness out of his body before standing and lugging his backpack over to the car—which he can admit looks very nice, though he knows next to nothing about cars. Flashy, just as he belatedly thinks he should have expected.

“Hey,” Parse says as Bitty opens the passenger side door, music spilling out that sounds like it’d be at home at a kegster. Parse is slouched in the seat, sunglasses on and wrist draped over the steering wheel, looking—well, attractive, and also surprisingly human. “Bitty, right? You can stick your bag in the back if you want. How’s it going?”

So that’s how this starts—Parse is calling him Bitty. Huh. Bitty takes him up on the offer and stows his bag away, since there’s not a lot of leg room up front to begin with. “I’m doing pretty well! I’m all moved in, and I’ve just started baking again—oh, shit, the pie!” he yelps, jumping out of the car from where he’d been nearly seated and dashing back inside the Haus. How the hell had he almost forgotten the pie—but he’d remembered before they’d left, so it’s okay, he tells himself. Honestly, he must be going crazy to be forgetting the pie.

When he returns, lowering himself into the car with the pie nestled safely in its carrying case, Parse is giving him an amused half-smile that could almost be a chirp in itself. “I guess Jack wasn’t lying when he said you like to bake?”

Jack’s been talking about him. To his boyfriend. The thought warms Bitty just the slightest bit as Parse puts the car into gear and starts backing out of the driveway. “No, not at all! I love baking, though I don’t normally forget to bring things with me like that—sheesh, I dunno what I was thinking,” he shakes his head bemusedly.

“No big deal,” Parse waves a hand in dismissal as he pulls onto the road. Bitty’s relieved to see that Parse is actually a pretty careful driver even though his posture remains casual, his arm resting on the wheel as if it’s of little consequence. “This is, what, your third year?”

“Yeah! I’m a junior,” Bitty confirms, smiling.

“Nice,” Parse gives him a nod. “Sometimes I wish I’d done the college thing—usually I change my mind about two seconds later, cuz I fucking love hockey, but y’know,” he shrugs easily.

And Bitty had thought that getting along with him was going to be harder, but so far Parse hasn’t really done anything wrong—Bitty’s finding that he’s actually starting to genuinely like him. Which makes the car ride a whole lot less awkward in the way of jealousy and a whole lot more awkward in the way of the incessant fluttering in Bitty’s chest. “Don’t worry, I lived with Jack ‘carries-a-thousand-dollars-in-his-pocket’ Zimmermann for a year, remember?” Bitty smirks lightly.

Parse snorts. “Still? Damn, I thought he would’ve stopped doing that by now.”

“He once bought me coffee and had to ask the barista to break a hundred,” Bitty chuckles. But then he immediately wonders if it’s weird to mention that Jack had bought him coffee—because it’d happened quite a lot, honestly, enough that he would have wondered if it was really ‘just friends’ thing if Jack didn’t happen to be dating Parse at the time.

“Sounds like him, all right,” Parse smiles crookedly, the summer sunlight spilling over his arms as they make a turn. He’s blonder than when Bitty had seen him at Epikegster, which makes sense since Bitty’s blonder too. It seems more striking on Parse somehow, maybe because his skin looks tan where Bitty only burns.

And God, Parse really is attractive, isn’t he? Damnit, Bitty absolutely does not need to be thinking about it right now, but it’s hard not to take notice. His hands are sweating. He wishes he could bake something, but they’re kind of in a car right now, and on the way to someone else’s kitchen to boot.

Despite his worrying, it doesn’t take very long to drive to Providence; it feels like no time at all until they’re pulling up the driveway of a small house in the suburbs. Bitty likes it immediately—there are a couple of small shrubs lining the front walk, the walls are a warm faded brick, and the whole thing gives off a sweet, homey feel.

Parse notices the involuntary smile that’s settled onto Bitty’s face. “Excited to see him?” Parse asks, and Bitty’s heart flips in his throat because that had almost sounded like it was insinuating something. And fuck, what if Parse can tell Bitty likes Jack? He really doesn’t want Parse to dislike him. God, he’s going to have to try extra hard to hide it tonight, he can already tell.

“Yeah—we’re pretty good friends,” Bitty tones down his smile a notch. He’s trying to juggle the pie and get his backpack out of the car all at once, and it’s not working out well until he feels the pie dish lifted out of his hands.

“I’ve got it,” Parse flashes him a lazy grin that makes Bitty’s heart pulse in distress. Without even knowing what he’s done, Parse turns and walks up the sidewalk, motioning for Bitty to follow.

The interior of the house is homey, too, all hardwood floors and strange, abstract hockey art on the walls—he bets that’s Parse’s doing, since Jack’s sense of decoration amounts to hanging a Canadian flag on the wall at best. The thought of Parse coming over, picking wall art, making himself at home causes an odd clenching in Bitty’s stomach because in no time at all, Jack and Parse seem to have become domestic, and ugh, Bitty’d never even had a chance, had he? Even though it burns in his throat, even though he’d spent night after night just imagining what it would be like if he had tried just a little harder to get closer to Jack—but then, he’d thought Jack was straight up until the Epikegster. He hadn’t had a chance at all.

The house is quiet, but it’s the peaceful kind of quiet, the kind that lies in sleepy chuckling and fills sleepy mornings until they burst. There’s no sign of Jack as they walk through the entryway and into the living room, but there’s a low thump as a small calico cat jumps down from a scratching tree near the window, padding over to wrap herself around Parse’s legs.

“Is that Kit?” Bitty smiles, kneeling down to try and coax her over.

“Yep! She’s a sweetheart,” Kent shifts the pie dish into one arm so he can lean over and pet Kit between the ears. “Go say hi,” he nudges her toward Bitty.

Kit crawls toward him in interest, sniffing the hand he holds out. She must decide he’s worthy of attention then because she immediately butts her head against his hand and purrs, and Bitty’s pretty sure he’s in love with this small cat child. “Aww!”

“See? Already charmed, aren’t you?” Parse laughs. “Anyway, I’m gonna go put this in the kitchen,” he motions at the pie. “Should it go in the fridge?”

“Yes, please,” Bitty nods, and then Parse leaves him alone for some quality time with Kit and Bitty’s not complaining. It gives him time to calm himself down, and even though the butterflies in his chest won’t stop, they at least start ricocheting a little less forcefully. Jack’s apparently at a media thing and won’t be back for at least another half hour, which Bitty assumes is why Parse picked him up. And that’s okay; he ends up just sitting against the couch and playing with the cat while Parse flicks through channels on the TV. It feels—not bad, actually, even though neither of them are really saying anything. Bitty’s comfortable here, in Jack’s house, without Jack there, and it’s a little odd but he’s decided not to question it. It’s much, much better than the awkward tension he’d been stressed over finding himself in.

Then there’s a crunch of gravel and the sound of an engine outside, and Bitty makes to stand, but Parse is up and halfway across the room before Bitty’s even on his feet. “Mind if I talk to him alone for a sec?” Parse asks, and Bitty would have been suspicious except that Parse has an open, unguarded smile on his face.

Oh. He probably just wants to kiss Jack without Bitty watching, and—yeah, Bitty’s gonna stay in here. “Sorry,” he flushes, sitting down on the couch.

Parse laughs. “You don’t have to apologize, no worries,” he says, and it sounds like it’s been practiced into effortlessness—and maybe it has, Bitty thinks as Parse leaves the room. Parse is dating Jack, after all. He’s probably good at comfort, good at being a shoulder to lean on, just like Bitty had been good at it for the short year that Jack had started to confide in him.

But Jack probably doesn’t need that from Bitty anymore, now that he has Parse.

Jack doesn’t need Bitty anymore.

And that thought hurts worse than getting checked, makes him lean back in the couch and squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. God, he wishes he could unthink it.

He tries his best to push it out of his mind, struggling with the wave of nausea that’s trying to influence his stomach, because—Jack’s here. Bitty will see him soon, and even if Jack doesn’t need him anymore, he’d still asked to see him and Bitty has to be grateful for at least that. He fidgets, feeling jittery, and wonders if the muffled shout he’d just heard was someone tripping—he hopes they’re not getting themselves hurt out there.

There’s a few minutes of silence, the quiet ringing in his ears. Then the door opens, and Bitty stands, restraining himself from dashing over to the entryway and instead walking over as normally as he can manage.

He turns the corner and—oh. Jack’s there, tall and beautiful. He’s standing there next to Parse, a smile growing on his face, and he’s broadened even more over the summer from his training with the Falconers. Oh, dear Lord, he’s—Bitty is going to have a hard time not staring at him tonight, he knows that for sure. God.

He suddenly feels shy. “Hi,” he says. He wants to hug Jack but Parse is right there, and Bitty really doesn’t want this to be awkward.

“Hey, Bittle,” Jack smiles, and then that smile turns teasing and he says, “Looks like someone still hasn’t been eating their protein.”

“Shut up!” Bitty says, his chest bubbling with laughter nonetheless. And then he does step forward and hug Jack, just a quick squeeze, because Jack is his best friend and why wouldn’t they hug each other? And gosh, that’s nice, to be warm and safe in Jack’s arms, if only for a brief moment. Jack smells like sweat but Bitty doesn’t even care, because Jack also smells like familiar comfort, like Chowder’s room as Bitty had cried his eyes out after graduation, like the sweatshirt Jack had accidentally left behind and Bitty had kept.

Except when Bitty tries to pull away, Jack holds on for a few seconds longer than necessary, and Bitty is happy and terrified all at once because what if Parse thinks it’s weird? He could suspect something, and then maybe he’d realize Bitty likes Jack and he’d be annoyed and jealous and definitely disappointed and—Bitty pulls away, even though his spine is tingling with Jack’s warmth. He misses it immediately.

Jack ruffles his hair. “Doing all right, Bittle?”

He bats Jack’s hand away—“Stop that,” he murmurs into Jack’s smirking face. Then he glances over at Parse, and good, Parse is still smiling. The hug hadn’t been too weird, too intimate, thank goodness. Bitty’s relieved.

“I’m gonna go shower—talk in a bit?” Jack addresses both of them, jerking his thumb toward the stairs. “I didn’t get a chance to at the rink, and the kids wore me out.”

“Sounds fine,” Parse says, and Bitty hasn’t even seen he and Jack touch yet but the way they’re looking at each other is so sappy it’s squeezing his heart into mush. “I was thinking about starting dinner soon anyway?”

“That’d be good. Hungry?” Jack turns to Bitty with a gentle smile. He’s seen Jack smile more now than he ever had before, and even if that’s Parse’s doing, it still makes Bitty feel warm to see Jack looking so content.

“I ain’t gonna say no to food,” Bitty answers with a smile, then turns to Parse. “Need any help?”

“If you want, sure,” Parse nods appreciatively, squeezing Jack’s shoulder before heading toward the kitchen. Bitty’s surprised they hadn’t hugged, or kissed, maybe, but he supposes that they’d done that outside where Bitty couldn’t see. And then he’s thinking about them kissing, and it really kind of hurts so he stops those thoughts in their tracks.

He follows Parse, turning his head to watch as Jack heads up the stairs. But Jack pauses halfway up, a sly grin on his face—oh no. “Oh, Kenny—make something with lots of protein in it for Bittle, all right?” he chirps. Rude.

“Hey!” Bitty huffs, because really—but both Jack and Parse are laughing, and the happiness is infectious so Bitty laughs too.

He and Parse end up starting on chicken enchiladas, which Parse assures Bitty he was going to make anyway, and Bitty helps him chop up green chilies to go in the mix.

“I’m done! Need anything else?” Bitty says when he’s finished, setting the knife down.

“Nope, chicken’s done, just dump those in the mixing bowl,” Parse turns the stove off. “But—can I ask you a question?” he turns to Bitty, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah?” Bitty asks, pouring the chilies into the bowl of other ingredients. He feels nervous—this is the first time today that Parse has sounded so serious.

Parse waits until Bitty’s set the cutting board down to speak. “Do you like Jack?”

Oh God.


How does Parse know? Has he always known? Oh God oh God—Bitty’s hand flies to his mouth. His heart pounds in his chest, his breathing quickens—it’s like he’s just been checked, like he’s flying through the air, just about to crash hard into the ice. Oh God, fuck—he flushes brightly, and even if he denies it his face has already betrayed him, so all he can do is tell the truth. “Y-yeah,” he admits quietly, unable to look away from Parse’s face even if he tried. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Parse—doesn’t look annoyed? He doesn’t look happy either, but that’s to be expected. “Thought so,” Parse murmurs. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad or anything.”

Bitty’s not sure he believes him because Bitty would probably be pretty upset in Parse’s position, but he lets it slide, gripping the counter with one hand to keep himself afloat. “I’m trying to get over it,” he says quickly, misery starting to creep its way into his words. He’d thought he’d done an okay job at hiding his crush, at pushing it far away in the back of his mind, but apparently he’d been way too obvious just as usual. God.

And wait—does this mean that Parse knows that Bitty is crushing on him a little bit, too? Fuck, Bitty hopes not, because then he would literally have to die of embarrassment. His heart’s already beating faster than the wheels of Parse’s Ferrari; he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

But then Parse walks over and puts a hand on Bitty’s shoulder. The touch sparks all up and down his arm, making him feel tingly and light-headed—and Bitty’s kind of freaking out, but Parse is speaking so he should listen—“I dunno if this’ll make you feel any better,” Parse is saying, expression pensive. “But—I think if anything had gone differently, like if I’d fucked up at the Epikegster—I honestly think Jack would be dating you instead.”

Bitty stares at him, because—what? “I—he doesn’t—like me?” he scrambles for the words.

Parse snorts. “Don’t be so sure of that. He—talks about you. Like, a lot.”

“Oh,” Bitty flushes. “I’m sorry,” he says again, shaking his head. Because even though knowing Jack talks about him makes him really happy, he’s sure that this must be hurting Parse in some way, so the happiness isn’t nearly enough to balance out the guilt, nor to override the weird sense of pleasure he gets from having Parse’s hand on his shoulder. Gosh, he’s got so many emotions trapped in his head that they’re crowding his thoughts, boxing him in like a scuffle against the boards.

“It’s fine,” Parse squeezes his shoulder once before letting go. Bitty misses the touch, almost puts his hand where Parse’s had rested just to remember the feeling, but he stops himself just in time. Parse doesn’t need to know how much Bitty had liked that, not at all. “I trust him, you know? And I don’t think you’d try to take him from me or anything, so I guess I trust you too,” Parse shrugs, looking unsure of himself.

“Umm—thank you?” Bitty blinks at him, surprised.

“It’s like—you’re one of Jack’s best friends, right? And Jack has great taste in friends, so I should probably trust you. Maybe I’ll regret that later, but you know,” Parse elaborates ruefully.

“I—I wouldn’t take him from you,” Bitty bites his lip. He wouldn’t. He’d feel guilty forever, and Jack looks so happy with Kent right now—Bitty couldn’t bring himself to break that up.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Parse says, and then he smiles at him and Bitty feels oddly reassured. “Which is why—I mean, anyway, my main point is—I figured I’d ask—“ he cuts off, laughing slightly. “Shit, this is harder than I thought it would be. All right, so this might be kind of weird,” Parse warns.

“Um, okay,” Bitty crosses his arms nervously, preparing for anything and everything. His emotions have twisted themselves all up in his brain; he’ll have to untangle them later, maybe talking it out in front of his webcam until he feels somewhat better, though this is one video he won’t be posting.

At least the hard part is over—nothing can be worse than having Parse know he has a giant crush on Jack, right?


“So. Would you wanna have sex with us?” Parse asks.

Holy shit. Is he joking? He has to be joking, but—Parse’s face is completely straight.

He’s not joking.

“What.” The word comes out short and sharp, because God, touching Jack, having sex with Jack, not to mention Parse, but also—a threesome? Not to mention that this is basically guaranteed to be messy and probably will wreck Bitty to pieces in the end, because after it’s all over he’s just going to go back to the Haus and he’ll be alone. Again. Not that he wouldn’t be alone in the first place, but he knows from experience that missing something after having a taste of it can be much worse than never having it at all.

“Just something to think about,” Parse shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Kent Parson wouldn’t mind. Kent Parson wouldn’t mind having sex with Bitty and his boyfriend at the same time—“W-why?” Bitty stammers, because he can’t think of a single reason Parse could have for wanting to do this.

Parse apparently has a lot of reasons because he holds out a hand, ticks them off his fingers one by one. “So first of all, you’re damn cute, okay?”

Bitty blushes. “Um—thank you?” he murmurs, and Parse flashes him a grin.

“Second, I really like sex. Threesomes are hot. You know. Third,” he lowers his voice just in case, “you like Jack. Fourth, Jack likes you—“ Jack likes him, Parse is saying, and Bitty still doesn’t quite believe it but Lord—“Fifth, I love Jack—“

Bitty instinctively flinches at that, because he’d expected them to love each other but that doesn’t stop it from stinging, from punching a hole right through his chest.

“Not gonna apologize,” Parse says softly. “I do love him. Not hiding it anymore.”

And that says more to Bitty than anything else Parse has said, because Parse has loved Jack for a very long time, hasn’t he? It almost makes Bitty want to walk away, to stop intruding and leave them well alone.

But the other, more selfish part of Bitty wants to see where this is going, even though it’s reckless. Even though it has the potential to ruin a lot of things, including Parse and Jack’s relationship and Bitty’s own fragile heart.

“Sixth, he loves me,” Parse continues, and damn, that hurts worse, like a punch in the gut, but Parse moves on before Bitty can dwell on it too much and he’s kind of thankful. “Seventh, he talks about you all the damn time, so I was pretty curious about you, you know? Eighth, now that I’ve met you I can see why he likes you, if I’m being honest here.”

Parse actually reddens a little at admitting that, and Bitty opens his mouth to say something, anything, but Parse keeps going before he can speak.

“Ninth—I want him to be happy, and—I think this would probably fulfill a lot of fantasies that he may or may not have told me about,” his voice roughens, a light smirk playing on his lips. A rush of tingling washes over Bitty’s skin at the suggestion in his words, at the thought of Jack thinking things about him, wow. “Tenth, not gonna lie, this would fulfill a lot of my fantasies, and—oh look, I’ve run out of fingers,” Parse waves his hands in the air. “Damn, I had more reasons, but—you get the picture,” he leans back against the counter, looking all too satisfied with himself.

“You—“ Bitty starts, then has to clear his throat. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“Maybe,” Parse looks away, a light flush dappling his cheeks. He turns back to the enchiladas, pulling a wooden spoon out of the drawer and so he can mix the filling. “Have I convinced you?”

Bitty knows that if he opens his mouth now, he’ll babble, so he glues it shut until he’s absolutely sure of what he wants to say. He must be quiet for a moment too long, because Parse turns to him with an alarmed look on his face. “Fuck, did I read this wrong? Shit, like, let me know right now if you’re really not into this, cuz we can pretend it never happened—“

“No! I—you don’t have to stop—convincin’ me, I guess? I mean, I think I’m into it but I just don’t know, and I don’t even know if I’m all that great at sex so this probably isn’t a great idea but I—I dunno, I really, really like Jack but this might be kinda hard? And—oh, shit,“ Bitty slaps a hand over his own mouth, because damn, he’d been right about the babbling.

Parse stifles a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to be good at sex—it’ll be good because it’s you,” he says as easily as if it’s true.

Bitty stares at him, eyes wide. Parse.

Parse frowns. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“You just,” Bitty shakes his head. “You just said somethin’ real nice to me,” he murmurs, face flaming, because—wow? Parse is—gosh.

“Your accent comes out when you’re nervous. It’s cute,” Parse turns away and starts pulling out tortillas, carefully spooning the enchilada mixture in and rolling them up one by one. Like it’s nothing, like it’s effortless to say these things to Bitty, things no one’s ever said to him before. Bitty’s heart is all fluttery—another compliment, another little bit of happiness.

“Are you doin’ that on purpose?” he asks quietly.

“Doing what?” Parse rolls the last tortilla, dusting his hands off and shoving them in his pockets.

“Complimentin’ me. Like, trying to seduce me or something?” Bitty bites his lip because it sounds sillier out loud than in his head.

“I—ha, yeah, I guess I’m trying to seduce you? But nah, the compliments—I’ve just learned to do it a lot. Cuz Jack likes it,” he explains, a low flush on his cheeks. “Some people don’t like it.”

Bitty blinks at him, because Parse looks like he feels self-conscious about it even though he’s just said some of the sweetest things that Bitty’s ever had directed at him. “Why wouldn’t they?”

Parse shrugs as the oven beeps, indicating that it’s preheated. He slides the tray of enchiladas into the oven and sets a timer, eyes flicking back and forth between Bitty and his task. “I’ve dated guys who’ve said it was overbearing, I guess. But that’s not really here nor there.”

And Parse looks so suddenly insecure, and oh, no. Bitty wants to touch him, to hug him, and the desire is strong enough to be a burden—it’s the same kind of desire he often has to stifle around Jack. God, this isn’t good. He’s going to get himself hurt, he just knows it. “Oh, Parse,” he sighs, and Parse raises an eyebrow at him.

“You know if you say my name like that, I’m going to start thinking things, right?” Parse gives him a cheeky grin.

Bitty shivers, because now he can’t ignore the trembling in his body, the pulsing want that’s building low in his belly. “Um.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll tone it down,” Parse laughs self-deprecatingly, brushing his hand through his hair again. His cowlick pops right back up, and Bitty kind of wants to touch it, maybe to smooth it down under his fingers.

“N-no,” Bitty says, surprising both Parse and himself. “You can—keep saying things. I don’t mind.”

“Aw, shit, well all right then,” Parse grins at him.

And Bitty realizes that even though everything logical in his brain is screaming against it, he’s probably going to do this. Maybe it will hurt, but he’ll probably enjoy it a lot at least, and Parse wants to, and Jack—probably wants to? “Have you guys, um, talked about this?”

“Ah, well—no. Not more than theoretically, at least,” Parse looks away. “I wanted to make sure you were on board first.”

Bitty crinkles his brow. “Isn’t that kind of backwards?”

“Probably,” Parse shrugs. “But I didn’t want to get his hopes up if it didn’t work out, and I—well, I wanted to make sure you and I were gonna be compatible too, you know?”

Bitty’s mouth goes dry. “Um—are we?”

Parse laughs. “You tell me.”

Oh, fuck—Bitty grabs the hem of his tank top, twisting his fingers in it nervously. “I—maybe?” his voice comes out as a squeak.

Parse fucking winks. “You think I’m sexy, don’t you?”

Bitty covers his face. “Yeah,” he mumbles.

“Are you thinking about kissing me?” Parse asks, voice dipping low.

“Um. Now I am,” Bitty shivers.

“What about kissing Jack?” Parse continues, and an actual shudder runs down Bitty’s back.

“You’re still trying to seduce me, aren’t you?” he peeks through his fingers.

Parse is grinning. “That’s the plan.” He glances at the timer again then turns toward the living room, gesturing with his hand. “Come sit?”

Bitty nods meekly and follows, pulse heavy beneath his skin. He sits down first, which might be a mistake because then Parse sits way too close to him on the couch, close enough that he holds back a whimper—because Parse’s thigh is against his, and Bitty’s getting hard, fuck. He wants Parse, wants him so badly, but Jack hasn’t agreed to any of this yet so he can’t—and God, Jack, he wants Jack so much even though Jack’s not even in the room with them right now. He closes his eyes and thinks of how he’d hugged Jack barely half an hour ago, of how Jack’s arms were so strong and warm—

“You haven’t said yes yet, you know,” Parse breaks Bitty out of his reverie, and Bitty blinks his eyes open.

“Yes,” he says, a little too emphatically—but the way Parse looks at him then, wide-eyed and breathless, makes it worth it.

Parse leans back against the couch then, tipping his face toward the ceiling as the smile on his face spreads further. “Perfect,” he murmurs, the delight radiating from his body, and Bitty is so gone.

“Um—what now?” Bitty asks, hands clenching unconsciously in his lap.

“Now, we ask Jack.” Parse stares up at the ceiling. “I think I heard the water turn off a minute ago, so he should be down in a mo’.”

Bitty’s breathing spikes, because what if Jack says no? Bitty’s already so invested in this, he wants it so much that his chest hurts. “What do we say?” he wipes his hands, damp with sweat, on the fabric of his shorts.

Parse gives a short laugh. “Huh, umm. I guess we just ask? I can do it, don’t worry,” he assures him. “And then—well, I bet you’d like to kiss him, yeah?”

Bitty’s eyes widen—Lord. He takes a few breaths to steady himself, then nods his head short and fast. “I—can I?” he asks, just to be sure.

“If he says he wants it, then yeah,” Parse smiles at him.

Oh, God. “Parse—thank you,” Bitty breathes, because never in his dreams did he think he’d actually get the chance to do that, and now it’s right in front of him—

Jack could still say no.

There are footsteps above them, heading toward the stairway.

“You’re tense,” Parse murmurs.

Bitty stares at him. “Are you not?” he hisses, because Parse somehow looks almost calm about this.

Parse shrugs. “I’m hot. You’re hot. He’ll say yes.”

Kent Parson thinks he’s hot. Lord. Bitty’s heart thuds in his chest, and Jack walks down the stairs and into the room.

“H-hi!” Bitty squeaks. Next to him, Parse smirks.

“You all right?” Jack asks, brow furrowing. “You look pale, Bittle.”

“I’m f-fine!” Bitty says, but Jack doesn’t look convinced.

And he’s expecting a big lead-in, but no—Parse just leans back against the cushions, smiles fondly at Jack, and says, “So I was thinking that we could have sex with Bitty, if you wanted.”

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, his face flaming red. “You—w-what? Bittle, you…?”

Bitty sucks in a sharp breath—here goes. “W-we talked about it, and—I-I’d like to,” he looks away, his blush consuming his face and eating him whole.

Jack looks back and forth between both of them for a moment that’s as tense as a shootout. “If that’s the case—uh, yeah. That’s fine.”

‘That’s fine.’ As casual as can be, just fine, God—but he had said yes, oh Lord oh Lord—

And Parse puts his hand on Bitty’s back, gives him a light shove. “Go on,” he smiles, a conspiratorial glint in his eye.

Bitty gulps as he stands. “You mean—?” he asks, staring at Jack. Jack stares back, a light flush on his cheeks, and Bitty can tell that he’s nervous.

“Yeah,” Parse nods, pressing at the small of his back again until Bitty moves, and the touch feels good but this is going to be even better—

Bitty steps forward until he’s right in front of Jack. “Um—can I?” he whispers, staring up at him.

Jack shivers. “Anything you want,” he says, and Bitty wonders if he really really means that, because gosh, if he does—

“I wanna kiss you,” Bitty squeezes his eyes shut as the words come out because he can’t believe he’s actually saying this aloud.

And Jack looks at him, eyes solemn and wide. “I—Bittle. Yes,” he says, and then he’s leaning down and Bitty’s reaching up and their lips meet—oh. Oh, they’re kissing. He’s kissing Jack, Jack’s lips are soft against his, and Jack’s arms come up around his waist, so so warm, oh God.

Bitty reaches up and tangles a hand into Jack’s still-wet hair, fists the other in Jack’s t-shirt. Jack gasps against his lips, opens his mouth slightly, and fuck him because then Jack’s tongue darts into Bitty’s mouth and he’s drowning, everything around him is Jack and it’s so much better than he ever could have imagined.

But then Jack sighs into his mouth and starts to pull away, and Bitty feels the loss in his bones, even as he blinks his eyes open to see Jack, lips puffy and eyes centered somewhere behind Bitty. Then there’s a hand pressing warm between his shoulders, and it isn’t Jack’s because Jack’s arms are wrapped around his waist. Bitty turns and Parse is there, eyes glazed over as if he were the one who had just been kissed so thoroughly that it could have shattered the earth they’d been standing on if it had gone on any longer.

Parse leans forward and kisses Jack over Bitty’s shoulder, just a brief close-mouthed peck, and seeing it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as Bitty had thought it would. It helps that Jack hasn’t let him go, and that Parse is curving his body around him, back pressing against his, trapping him in a circle of heat so intense that he feels like he could shatter.

“Dinner’s gonna be ready soon,” Parse tips his head so the side of his forehead is pressed against Bitty’s, and Bitty whimpers involuntarily because there’s fire in his body and he’s so fucking hard right now.

“I might, um, not be able to concentrate,” he admits, feeling shaky.

“Bed?” Jack says, and he’s looking at Bitty—and Bitty’s definitely made the right decision, because he decides then and there that he’d do anything to have Jack keep looking at him like that.

“Let me take the enchiladas out of the oven,” Parse murmurs, and then he presses a warm kiss to Bitty’s temple just as the timer in the kitchen goes off. Parse pulls away then, and Bitty hadn’t expected to feel longing for him but there it is, strong as anything.

“Hurry, Parse,” he says quietly, and he can feel Jack shake with laughter against him as Parse stops dead in his tracks.

“Eager, huh?” Parse throws a smirk over his shoulder, and Bitty shivers. “You can call me Kent, by the way.”

“Um, okay,” Bitty says, and then Parse disappears into the kitchen and he’s left alone with Jack.

“Call him Kenny. He likes that,” Jack says, smirking.

“Heard that!” Parse yells from the kitchen. The oven door opens with a comforting clunk, and Bitty has to stifle his laughter.

“I’ll consider it,” he grins up at Jack.

“So,” Jack says, a smile lingering on his face.

“This is okay, right?” Bitty asks carefully, and Jack leans down so he’s eye-to-eye with Bitty.

“I want this, if that’s really all right,” Jack says, and the words wrap around Bitty’s chest and squeeze until he nearly whimpers from the sheer potency of his happiness. “Kenny—Kenny said it was okay, right? If he’s okay with it, then yes,” Jack grips him closer.

“Thank the Lord,” Bitty whispers, and then he keeps his eyes on Jack’s as he kisses him just so he can watch them drift closed.

He hears footsteps from the kitchen as Jack kisses back, harder than before, and it feels like Jack is devouring him from the inside out. He’s hard against Jack’s leg, Jack can probably feel it, but it only makes Jack press closer and oh, this feels so good and none of them have even taken their clothes off yet. He could probably come just like this, if it weren’t for Parse’s voice speaking up from behind him—

“Hey, c’mon. Bedroom,” Parse says, and Bitty can hear the grin in his voice. Kent’s voice.

Bitty breaks away from Jack, a trail of spit stretching and breaking between their lips. “Kenny,” he turns and looks at Kent, grinning.

Kent raises his eyebrows, a slow smirk spreading on his face. “Fuck, okay, yeah. We’re going upstairs now,” he reaches forward and takes Bitty’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

“Yes, please,” Bitty says, only it comes out more like a whine and Jack chuckles.

“Bet I can pick you up,” Kent grins.

Bitty glares at him. “Kent Parson, don’t you dare—oof!” he squeaks as Kent does, in fact, pick him up, lifting him bridal style as he scrambles for a handhold around Kent’s neck.

“Aww, this is fun. I can’t do this with Jack,” Kent says, and okay yeah, Bitty feels less annoyed about being manhandled because Kent’s smiling at him like he’s so happy Bitty’s there.

Bitty—Bitty likes Kent, he decides as they make their way to the stairs. He—damnit, Bitty likes Kent.

He’s pretty sure this isn’t the outcome Kent had expected when he’d asked Bitty to do this, but fuck, it sure as hell is happening whether Bitty wants it to or not.

The urge to feel melancholy about the fact that he now has two unrequited crushes is strong in his chest, but Bitty makes a snap decision that he’s going to ignore that for now. Kent’s holding him, carrying him up the stairs, and Jack’s right behind them and Bitty’s about to have really fucking great sex. He’s going to focus on enjoying it or so help him.

They walk into the bedroom, and it looks cozy and warm and the setting sun is striking the wall in just the right way—Bitty’s throat feels tight. Jack and Kent lay in here, wake up together in here, make love in here. The bed’s unmade. Bitty feels distinctly like he’s intruding, but neither Jack nor Kent seem to register that anything’s strange, and Kent lays him down on the bed much gentler than he’d expected.

There’s a brief, tense moment where Bitty’s caught in a triangle of gazes—Jack’s staring at him, Kent’s staring at Jack, and Bitty’s staring at both of them. Then a lazy grin spreads onto Kent’s face, and he crawls onto the bed next to Bitty, leaning down closer closer—and doesn’t kiss him, but instead puts his mouth to Bitty’s ear.

“I bet if you cleaned yourself up and asked him very nicely, Jack would eat you out,” Kent says, his voice husky, heavy with suggestion, breath ghosting across Bitty’s ear.

Bitty whimpers, his hands flying to cover the flush that’s blazing over his cheeks. “I—I can’t ask him that,” he says, embarrassment filling his body.

Kent nips at his ear, licks around the shell and makes him shudder. “Want me to ask him?”

“Please?” Bitty whispers. He knows Jack’s watching them, can probably hear them, but maybe that’s the point of this—who knows, though, because his thoughts are nearing on incoherent at this point.

“Hey, Zimms. Wanna eat him out?” Kent turns and grins at Jack. Bitty doesn’t look.

But then Jack answers “Yes.” There’s no hesitation.

Bitty swears he’s been electrocuted, because the shock of energy that runs down his spine is—fuck. Fuck. “Nngh—would you?“ he whimpers and finally looks to Jack, almost terrified to see what he might find.

Jack is staring at him and Kent, his pupils blown out wide. His basketball shorts are tenting. “I would.”

Bitty jumps out of the bed faster than he would have thought possible, then stands there embarrassed because he doesn’t know which door leads the bathroom. Fuck. “Umm,” he blushes.

“It’s this one. You can use the shower,” Jack opens the door closest to him, and Bitty’s heart thuds as he walks by him.

Jack catches him by the wrist, pulls him closer and kisses his cheek. “If you’re uncomfortable with anything, let us know, eh?”

Privately thinking that it’s highly unlikely that he’ll be uncomfortable with anything in this situation (because it’s basically a wet dream, Lord), Bitty nods anyway. “Of course, honey,” he murmurs, then darts into the bathroom before he can feel too embarrassed about calling him honey.

He shuts the door behind him, disrobing and twisting the shower knob on. He doesn’t know where the towels are—maybe he should ask? But when he leans near the door, he hears the distinct sound of kissing and decides against it.

Deciding he’ll just use one of the ones hanging on the rack (hopefully it’s not too weird?), he steps in the shower and washes himself off, hands trembling with the knowledge of what’s coming, of how soon he’ll have Jack all over him, and Kent too—

He’s done almost too quickly. Stepping out, he dries himself off and wraps it around his body, opening the door into the bedroom.

Jack and Kent are lying next to each other on the bed, both naked, both staring at him, oh Lord. He takes a breath and says “Hi, y’all,” for lack of anything better.

Both of them chuckle. “Hi, cutie,” Kent says, grinning cheekily. Kent thinks he’s cute. Oh gosh. Kent’s said it before, but it’s still such a new thought that it pings around Bitty’s brain, nearly dislodging the nervousness in his spine. Almost.

“C’mere, Bittle,” Jack smiles softly, voice slow and viscous like syrup, and then he sits up and crawls down to the foot of the bed, motioning for Bitty to lay in the spot he’d vacated.

Bitty complies, lying on his back next to Kent and trying not to think about how he’s lost the towel in the process. He’s been trying not to stare at either of them, but it’s really hard because he’s seen other men naked before, but not two at once and certainly not two with the bodies of professional hockey players. So he’s probably ogling a bit more than is proper, eyes roaming over Jack’s chest hair and his thighs, Lord, and then Kent next to him whose torso is hairless like Bitty’s, muscles smaller than Jack’s but no less tantalizing. And, well. They’re both hard. Which is—yeah. Fuck.

Jack leans forward, crawls over him, and Bitty stares up at him wide-eyed—his heart might just beat out of his chest at the rate it’s going. “Okay?” Jack smiles at him, eyes flicking to Kent and then back to Bitty.

Bitty nods, and then Jack’s face is right in front of him, so so close. Jack’s smiles and Bitty smiles back, happiness pooling in his lungs and pushing out into the air in a long sigh. Oh. Jack’s face is smooth—he must have shaved in the shower, and his hair hasn’t even had time to dry yet and his eyes are so pretty this close up—if Bitty hadn’t already known he was in love months ago, he thinks he would definitely know it now. It’s all he can do not to say it out loud.

Jack leans down and kisses him softly, then starts roaming lower, kissing his neck, his chest. Bitty can’t help but squirm, grasping at the sheets, turning and locking eyes with Kent—and gosh, Kent’s touching himself—slowly, lazily, and the sight has Bitty thrusting unconsciously upwards against Jack’s belly.

Kent waggles his eyebrows at Bitty. “Like what you see?”

“May—ahh, maybe,” Bitty whimpers, because Jack’s kissing down his stomach. He looks down Kent’s body, at his abs and his thighs and his hard cock, wrapped loosely in his fist. Kent has bruises on his thighs, and Bitty had thought they were maybe from hockey until Kent casually draws one leg up so his foot is flat on the bed. “Those… aren’t from hockey,” Bitty says, blushing as he realizes what they most likely are from.

Kent smirks. “We play a different kind of game here, if you know what I—hey, oww!” he grumbles as Jack flicks him in the thigh.

“You’re ridiculous,” Jack mutters.

Kent shrugs. “Never said I wasn’t.” He turns back to Bitty, leans so close that his cowlick brushes against Bitty’s forehead. “Do you like it?”

“W-what do you mean?” Bitty swallows, partially confused but mostly just extremely distracted, because Jack’s kissing his hipbone and the sensation is turning his bones to jelly.

“I mean, like. He could do it to you, if you wanted,” Kent leans in even further, lips hovering near Bitty’s, and that’s when Bitty realizes that they haven’t even kissed yet.

“Umm—yes, I think, yes,” he says, and then Jack makes an approving little hum and then leans down and sucks at Bitty’s hipbone, and Bitty lets out a choked sob at the rush of pain-pleasure—“Jack!”

“You’re so sexy,” Kent murmurs, his breath coming faster against Bitty’s mouth.

Bitty kind of wants to turn and hide his face in the pillow out of embarrassment because Jack’s nipping down his thigh, pausing every moment or so to suck hard enough that Bitty’s sure he’s leaving marks. God, he’s going to be able to look down for weeks and see that Jack had been there, Jack is here, Jack is kissing him and Bitty’s falling apart. “I—um, th-thank you,” he says to Kent, and then he takes a deep breath and adds, “Please for the love of God kiss me?” It comes out in a jumble of syllables, and Kent seems surprised, though Bitty’s not sure why.

“You—want that?” Kent murmurs, and yeah, of course Bitty wants it. That’s why he’s here, isn’t it?

But he looks at Kent’s face and realizes—oh. Kent thinks Bitty’s only here for Jack. And that sets Bitty’s thoughts spinning, makes him wonder how much of this Kent is doing for himself and how much of it is for Jack instead. Jack didn’t know Kent had wanted to do this until they’d asked, so maybe—maybe it’s like a present or something, which seems both really thoughtful of Kent and also kind of strange (because who gifts sex with someone else to their significant other? Kent Parson, apparently).

Bitty clears his throat. “Kiss me,” he repeats, and Kent grins and closes the gap between their lips.

It’s soft and enticing and different than how he’d seen Kent kiss Jack because it’s much much gentler. Bitty moans into it, feels himself melting up into Kent, and Kent responds and pushes himself up onto his arm to get a better angle. He trails his other hand up and down Bitty’s chest, and every pass sends pleasure skittering frantically through his skin, even though Jack seems to have stopped kissing his thighs.

Bitty wonders why, breaks from Kent to look at Jack and sees that Jack’s staring at them raptly, pupils blown out and mouth hanging half open.

“Like that, Zimms?” Kent half-chirps, and Jack chuckles and shakes his head.

“Of course I do.”

Of course he does. Bitty’s heart pounds, because somehow that’s a given, and now he really, really wants to know exactly how much Jack and Kent have talked about him because this sounds much more premeditated than he’d thought it was.

“We’re his idea of a wet dream, you know,” Kent smirks at Bitty, and Bitty can’t help but laugh.

“What, small and blond?”

“Freckles, cowlick, good at cooking,” Kent lists off. “Hockey,” he adds, just as Jack chimes in to say the same, and Bitty bursts out laughing.

“Is that—a thing?” he gasps out between giggles.

“What, sex and hockey? I mean, there’s locker room sex, and if you wanna get really into it then there’s sex on the ice—we did that once,” Kent smirks fondly at Jack.

“Would’ve been better if you hadn’t been complaining about being cold the whole time,” Jack chirps.

Kent’s eyebrows fly up. “We were fucking on top of a giant sheet of frozen water, of course I was cold!”

Bitty’s laughing so hard he’s almost crying now, and Kent leans over and kisses the corners of his eyes, making him flush all over—Kent’s being sweet. Gosh, this is so fun, him and Jack and Kent—Bitty kind of wishes that this would never end.

“Bitty,” Jack says softly, and Bitty tilts his head to look down at him past Kent. “Want to spread your legs?”

Oh, shit, he’d almost forgotten what they’d been planning on doing in the first place—he nods quickly, biting his lip and letting Jack slip his hands under Bitty’s knees and push them up, up until he’s nearly doubled over.

“Hold yourself open for him,” Kent says, watching avidly as Bitty loops his hands through his knees. “Have you had this done to you before?” Kent asks huskily.

Bitty shakes his head. “I’ve never, umm,” he flushes. “I’ve only had sex a couple of times, so I haven’t done lotsa stuff.”

Kent snorts. “You make it sound like we’re the epitome of debauchery, Bits.”

“You’re not?” Bitty arches an eyebrow, hissing as Jack sucks hard at his inner thigh—it’s probably a chirp of some sort, but he’s going to let it slide because it feels really good.

“Point taken,” Kent winks, and then groans—Bitty looks down and sees that Jack’s reached over and is touching Kent, stroking him, and Kent’s rolling his hips into it—fuck, wow. Bitty lets out a sighing moan, and Kent’s eyes flutter open.

“Lick him, Zimms,” Kent says, and Bitty shudders and grabs for his hand—he needs something to hold onto. Kent smiles obligingly and slips his fingers between Bitty’s, holds on tight—and then Jack’s leaning down, nipping the crease between Bitty’s thigh and groin, making him flinch—and then closer, until his tongue rasps flat against Bitty’s entrance and he sobs.

Jack, Jack, oh fuck, does—does he, do this? To you?” he gasps out at Kent, who has a smug look on his face as Jack licks wet, teasing circles around Bitty’s hole, dips in slightly and then pulls back out again.

“Mhmm. Nice, isn’t it?” Kent sits up, squeezing Bitty’s hand and palming himself with the other one, stroking lazy and slow.

Bitty closes his eyes and just feels, because Jack has started pushing in more and more often, farther and farther until he’s working Bitty open, until Bitty can almost feel Jack’s pulse up inside of him—or maybe that’s Kent, who’s moaning next to him, touching himself and holding Bitty’s hand so Bitty doesn’t float away from all the pleasure.

“He looks so pretty like that, Bits,” Kent murmurs, and Bitty lifts his head up so he can look.

Jack perks up at that, swirls his tongue once more before sitting up, mouth slick with spit. “Hey, Bittle? If you want him to shut up, we can trade,” he chirps, grinning, and Bitty snorts.

Kent pretends to look wounded. “You don’t want me to shut up, do you?” he asks Bitty, a fake pout on his face.

Bitty pretends to consider it. “I dunno, maybe,” he shrugs, a coy grin on his face. “It might make the mood better if I wasn’t bein’ distracted every other minute.”

Kent blinks. “Oh. Really?”

“No, not really,” Bitty laughs. “I don’t mind it. I babble a lot, so I can’t really talk,” he points out.

“He does babble a ton,” Jack says, ducking away when Bitty leans up to swat at his head. “I was agreeing with you!”

“Now who’s not shutting up?” Kent says smugly. “You’re leaving Bits hanging, here,” he gestures to where Bitty’s legs have relaxed on either side of where Jack’s sitting.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, Bitty,” Jack’s eyes widen.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Bitty shakes his head. “That was—that was really good, but I, um. I want to touch you guys too?” he says.

Next to him, Kent grins. “Can we keep him?” Kent asks Jack, slinging his arm around Bitty.

Jack turns bright red. “Um,” he says.

Kent laughs. “Don’t answer that. Anyway, hmm. Wanna blow Jack?” he asks Bitty, and Bitty feels the flush bloom all the way down his chest.

“Y-yes,” he stammers out, and Jack groans at that.

“Can I finger you?” Kent asks him, voice going lower still, and Bitty moans softly.

“Please, Kenny,” he says, and then Kent kisses him hard.

“You’re so—fuck,” Kent grumbles against his lips, and Bitty whimpers at the way Kent’s pulling him, helping him sit up so Kent can wrap his arms around him, kisses raw and almost possessive—wow.

“Is that—a good thing?” Bitty kisses back, returns the fiery energy that Kent’s putting in.

“Very,” Kent pulls away and stares at him.

Bitty breathes, licking his lips—his lips taste like Kent, God. He glances around blearily and realizes Jack’s missing. “Where’d he go?” he asks, voice muzzy.

“To brush his teeth,” Kent points at the bathroom, and Bitty hears the sound of the faucet turning on.

“Mkay,” he says, and then lets Kent pull him in again, kisses him until his mouth feels raw from Kent’s stubble, until he wants Kent so much he’s burning with it. “I want—please, can you—“ he whimpers, unashamedly pressing his hips against Kent’s leg.

Kent’s starting to unravel; Bitty can tell from the way his eyes are half-lidded, from the way he’s rutting back against Bitty. “Wanna get on your hands and knees?” he suggests.

Bitty drops down immediately, sighs at the way Kent’s hands trail down his back. He hears a drawer open, hears the pop of a cap opening, and then Jack walks back in the room.

“Look at him, ready for you, baby,” Kent purrs from behind Bitty, and Bitty and Jack both flush.

“Jack…” Bitty starts, not quite knowing what to say.

Jack climbs up onto the bed in front of him and leans down, threads his fingers wordlessly through Bitty’s hair and kisses him. Bitty relaxes into it, relaxes into Jack’s quiet strength and the way Kent’s hand is running up his thigh, spreading him open. Bitty reaches up to grasp at Jack’s cock, feeling it warm and heavy in his palm, and just then he feels a slick finger at his entrance, teasing, pushing in just the slightest bit. An electric shock zaps through his spine. “F-fuck,” he gasps, and Jack sits up so he can watch over Bitty’s shoulder.

Bitty wishes he could see too, but he his neck doesn’t turn that far. “You gonna fuck me, Kenny?” he says over his shoulder anyway.

The finger in him stills. “Shit—yeah, if you want,” Kent says after a dropped beat, and Bitty groans and nods and presses just the slightest bit back onto Kent’s finger. Kent hisses a “fuck, you’re hot,” makes Bitty blush all over, and Jack nods in agreement.

“You are hot,” Jack says, and somehow the same words from Jack’s mouth instead are enough to make him shudder violently because God, Jack thinks he’s hot. What kind of alternate universe has he managed to walk into?

“I wanna suck you,” he tells Jack quietly, and Jack shivers and sits up on his knees.

“Like this okay?” Jack asks him, moving so his cock is level with Bitty’s face, uncut and thick and hard.

Bitty nods, leans forward and licks a circle around the head—Jack lets out a long sigh.

“You should moan for him, babe,” Kent murmurs, and Bitty looks up to see Jack almost relax, as if he’d been holding himself back.

“Okay,” Jack nods, and so when Bitty opens his mouth wide and slides down on Jack’s cock, Jack groans and puts a tentative hand on his shoulder. “So good, Bit—Bitty.”

Bitty takes him in as far as he can without gagging, pulls back and suckles at the tip, and Kent’s got another finger inside him and he’s crooking them so that he hits—“Mmph!” Bitty whimpers, pulling off of Jack’s cock so he can breathe easier. “Kenny,” he moans, because Kent’s slowly adding a third finger, pushing so that he can hit that spot again and again, and Bitty’s head is going fuzzy with the stimulation.

Jack smiles softly down at him. “Good, Bits?”

“I—Jack, I, mmn, can’t talk—I,” the words fall out of his mouth and turn to moans, and Jack chuckles, warm and throaty.

“Tell him when you’re ready,” he murmurs.

Bitty shudders. “I think—soon,” he says, and behind him Kent groans, starts focusing on stretching him open. “Okay—okay,” Bitty says, “Want you, want you, please.”

“Sure you don’t want Jack?” Kent pulls his fingers out with a wet squelching sound, and Bitty gingerly sits up and turns and looks at him. A pretty flush is dancing between Kent’s freckles, and even though he’s smirking he looks hesitant, uncertain.

“I, um,” Bitty turns and looks at Jack, because—yeah. He wants Jack, but also it wouldn’t be real, and he’s not sure how well he could deal with that. “What do you want?” he asks Jack.

Jack sighs, biting his lips. “I want—lots of things,” he says, shaking his head. “We can do what you want.”

Bitty’s lips twist because deciding this is hard, thank you very much, because he only gets this one chance and either way it’s going to be really fucking good—“Kenny can fuck me,” he says. “Um, and I can? Do it to you?” he asks Jack, and Jack’s eyes widen.

“Fuck—okay,” Jack says.

Bitty has to close his eyes for a moment as an onslaught of images whizzes through his head, of fucking Jack, of being fucked by Kent, oh Lord, he probably could not have asked for a better night. Well—he could have asked for Jack to love him, he supposes. But Jack is in love with Kent, so this is all that Bitty’s going to get.

Dimly, he’s aware that Kent is instructing Jack into a particular position. Then he hears them kissing and he opens his eyes to watch, to see Kent sucking Jack’s bottom lip into his mouth and to hear the low groan that Jack makes as Kent’s hands smooth over Jack’s shoulders. Bitty’s not complaining about watching anymore—they make a nice couple, after all.

And soon they’ll both be all over him.

“Get yourself ready for him,” Kent whispers to Jack, sitting up, and Jack nods and leans over the edge of the bed to retrieve the lube from the nightstand. “It might not be as good if we do it all at once, but we can try, or—you can ride me if you wanna, Bits,” he suggests coyly.

Bitty laughs, crawls over and falls into Kent’s arms. “Both,” he says quietly, kissing Kent’s nose.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Kent grins, leaning back on the pillows.

“Okay with you?” Bitty asks Jack, climbing over Kent so he’s squatting low over his hips. Ah—they need a condom—but Jack seems to have read his mind because he’s already reaching for the nightstand.

“Very okay,” Jack smiles, flipping a condom over to them. Bitty takes it, fumbles at the wrapper with shaking fingers until Kent slides his hands over Bitty’s and helps him tear it open. Then Bitty’s heart pounds as he reaches down to glide his fingers over Kent’s cock, to take it into hand and stroke it until Kent’s groaning beneath him.

“Please, Bits,” Kent says, and Bitty’s again surprised at the vulnerability in his voice. He looks to the side and is caught, trapped in Jack’s eyes, because Jack has his legs spread open and he’s sliding a finger into himself—

“Oh,” Bitty gasps, and it’s all he can do to roll the condom over Kent without shaking too badly with all of the want burning in his throat.

“Ready?” Kent asks, and this time he looks focused, running a hand up and down Bitty’s thigh. Bitty nods, scooting forward and positioning himself, and his legs are probably gonna hurt after this but he wants it so badly, God.

Kent slides his hands around to cup Bitty’s ass, and then Kent’s spreading him open and Bitty whimpers even as he reaches down to grasp at Kent’s cock, to angle it upward and—“Oh, Kent,” he moans as he feels the tight press of Kent sliding inside of him those first few inches. “Oh, nngh, Kent—I, Kent,” he’s saying, and he hears a groan from his side—Jack is watching them, looking like he can’t tear his eyes away, two fingers pumping inside of him and fuck, Bitty needs to move—he lowers himself down until Kent’s all the way in and Kent lets out a strangled groan.

“Bitty, Bits—I’m gonna—can I move?” Kent asks, and Bitty nods his head and then Kent’s lifting him, God, just the slightest bit so he can get leverage and then Kent pulls out and presses inside him again, fucking into him, oh, oh.

“You two are—fuck,” Jack’s voice rumbles low, and Bitty forces his eyes open to look down at them, to look at Kent, eyes half-lidded and mouth rounded into an ‘o’, and then to look at Jack who’s gazing at them fondly as the sound of Kent pressing into Bitty fills the air.

“You gonna—?” Bitty motions vaguely, and just then Kent makes a particularly hard thrust and he gasps into it—“Jack, need you,” he moans.

“Okay,” Jack says, pulling his fingers out of himself with a slick sound. “But—how?”

“If you get in front of him and lean against the headboard, it might work like this—oh, fuck, Bits—uh, Bitty wouldn’t have much leverage so you’d have to push back on him, and the angle might be weird but—mmph!“ Kent stops as Jack kisses him roughly, and then he sets Bitty down on his cock so that Jack can straddle Kent more easily.

“Kenny’s really sexy, eh?” Jack directs over his shoulder at Bitty, passing him a condom.

Bitty flushes, his hips rolling unconsciously. “Yeah,” Bitty admits, and he’s not sure if the gasp he hears from Kent is because Bitty had agreed or because Bitty can’t help squirming with Kent thick in him like this.

Jack’s on his knees and Bitty’s wondering how the hell this is gonna work as he puts the condom on, but then Jack leans forward and presses his ass back towards Bitty, and oh, fuck, he’s going to be inside Jack, and Kent’s inside him already and God he’s gonna come before he’s ready, he just knows it, oh God.

“Okay, Bittle?” Jack asks, the slightest hint of a whine in his voice, and Bitty whimpers a yes in response.

And then he leans forward, and it doesn’t really work until Kent thrusts his hips up, and then the angle’s right but Bitty waits until Kent can stuff a pillow beneath himself and then—and then Jack’s pushing backward, and Bitty grips at his hip and aims so he can push in—oh fuck, “Oh fuck—oh, J-Jack, oh,” he can’t think, he nearly falls out because he’s shuddering so hard, so then he pushes back in again and Jack clenches around him, and then Kent starts rolling his hips, driving Bitty further into Jack. All Bitty can do is grip tightly at Jack’s waist and try his best to hang on, desperate sobs coming from his lips, and maybe he should be embarrassed that he’s being so loud, but—“I-I’m, oh God, I’m so close, oh—“

And then Jack pushes back on him, starts moving faster as the headboard thumps against the wall—and Bitty’s orgasm hits him in between one thrust and the next—“Ohh!” He lets out a wordless cry, feeling Kent fuck into him faster as he spasms around his cock, dimly registering that Jack’s jerking himself off in front of him, and everything is fiery bliss, consuming him, wringing him out until he can barely hold himself up.

Jack and Kent come within two beats of each other, Kent groaning and pulsing up inside Bitty and Jack clenching so hard that Bitty has to pull out of him soon after because it’s too much, God.

Bitty slowly lets himself fall sideways, extricating his legs and curling up on the crumpled comforter—fuck, that was without a doubt the best sex of his entire life. He’d gotten to touch Jack and now it’s never going to happen again, and he’ll never be with Kent enough either, even though it had been so good—he squeezes his eyes shut, ingraining every moment into his memory even as a rush of sadness pounds in his ears along with his slowing heartbeat.

“Bittle—are you okay?” he hears, and he opens his eyes and Jack’s sitting on Kent’s chest and staring at him, looking worried. Bitty cranes his neck up and Kent’s even closer, reaching a hand over to cup Bitty’s cheek.

“Was that all right? Did I hurt you?” Kent asks, and fuck, Bitty’s worrying them.

“No, don’t worry—it was perfect, really, it was really really good, just—it was so good,” he says, straining against the urge to get choked up. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, and Jack pulls him immediately into a hug, Bitty’s heart speeding again as they press warm and sweaty together.

“You’re shaking,” Jack says, stroking his hair.

“I’m okay,” Bitty says immediately, and then he closes his eyes and rests his head on Jack’s chest. Kent’s hand smooths over his back, rubbing lazy circles into his skin until Bitty really does feel almost okay, okay enough so when Jack murmurs something about getting cleaned up, he gets up with them and cleans himself off without missing the feel of their touch.

It helps that Kent grins at him afterwards, looking so satisfied with himself that Bitty can’t help but chuckle. “Happy?” Bitty asks him.

“I am,” Kent’s grin softens, and then he grabs Bitty’s hand and pulls him into a hug too. “We gonna nap, or—?”

“Huh?” Bitty says, leaning his head back so he can look at Kent even as his arms fall around Kent’s waist. “I thought—um, dinner?”

Kent raises an eyebrow. “You hungry?”

Bitty thinks on it—a nap does sound really good right now, but he also really, really doesn’t want to intrude. “Not really, but—is there a guest room?”

“If you want, I can show you,” Kent tilts his head, looking puzzled. “But—if you wanna cuddle with Jack, that’s totally fine,” he lowers his voice, and Bitty flushes but Jack is somewhere in the bathroom and Bitty doesn’t think he can hear them.

“Wouldn’t that bother you?” Bitty looks away, feeling the guilt start to settle in his lungs again.

“No,” Kent says, then makes a noise like he’d wanted to say something but then had stopped himself.

Bitty nudges his shoulder. “What?”

“I—never mind,” Kent shakes his head. “Come nap.”

From there Kent tugs him over to the bed, and Bitty is still a little wobbly from the sex so he falls easily against the pillows next to him. Kent loops an arm over his waist, and Bitty turns so that Kent’s spooning him, just in time to watch Jack crawl into bed beside him. “Hi,” Bitty whispers.

Jack gives him a droopy-eyed smile. “Hi to you, too.” And then Jack reaches over and pushes a strand of Bitty’s hair behind his ear, and the touch sears along Bitty’s cheek like the time one of his young cousins had accidentally gotten a sparkler too close to his arm. God, Jack. He’s so gone on this boy it hurts.

Kent tightens his arm around Bitty, and the way that they’re pressed together feels so warm and comforting that Bitty lets out a helpless sigh. “Lord,” he murmurs, and Jack chuckles.

“Worn out?” Jack asks him.

“Mhmm,” Bitty nods, and Jack leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead.

Bitty lets his eyes drift shut.

Three beats later, he hears Jack murmur to Kent, “I love you.” It doesn’t hurt Bitty nearly as much as he’d thought it would, not sandwiched in between them like this—

But then behind him, Kent swears softly. “Shit, I thought so.”

Bitty blinks his eyes open to see Jack looking distraught. “I didn’t—fuck, Kenny, I’m so sorry,” Jack’s face falls.

Bitty rolls over so he can look at Kent, and there’s a quiet disappointment lingering in Kent’s face. “Wait—what happened?” Bitty asks.

“He loves you,” Kent says, and Bitty can feel the hitch in his breath at the end even though it’s almost inaudible.

Slowly, he turns to look back at Jack, who’s staring hard at the ceiling. “Jack?” he whispers, because it can’t be real, it can’t be—

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” Jack says, and—it’s real, oh God, it’s real.

Jack is in love with him. Bitty’s heart feels like it might explode, and he’s happy but stronger than that is the guilt, because Kent is wrapped around him and Kent is dating Jack, and this shouldn’t be happening—

“It’s okay. I kinda knew,” Kent murmurs, stroking his side, and Bitty realizes his whole body had tensed up.

“But—“ Bitty starts, and then he numbly shakes his head.

“Bittle,” Jack says softly. “Did Kent tell you about—?”

“Tell me what?”

“I didn’t yet,” Kent sighs, and Bitty wrinkles his brow.

“What?” Bitty asks again, the curiosity biting almost harder than the guilt.

“So—uh. Jack didn’t invite you here,” Kent says, looking away. “I did. I, uh. Stole his phone and pretended I was him.”

“I didn’t even know until just before I came inside,” Jack confirms, and Bitty’s thoughts are spinning. That explains the shout from earlier, then—had Jack been angry? He really doesn’t want to ask so he doesn’t.

Instead he stares at Jack, then Kent, resisting the urge to grab at his phone and check his texts from a couple weeks ago—it’s in the pocket of his shorts anyway, and those are in the floor across the room. “I—um? Why did you do it?”

“Because,” Kent says, and then pauses, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I wanted to hear him say it.”

“Kenny—“ Jack starts, but Bitty says “Say what?”

“That he loved you,” Kent answers, face looking blank, and beside Bitty Jack looks miserable.

“Kenny…” Jack tries again. “I love you too, you know—Kenny, please l-look at me?” his voice cracks.

And then Kent does look at Jack, and Bitty can see the moment his face crumples even as he says, “It’s really okay, Zimms. I knew, so it’s okay. Really,” Kent shakes his head.

Bitty doesn’t know what to do, trapped in the sad space between them. He would flee, but his clothes are in the floor and Kent’s arm has drifted back over his waist. “I’m sorry,” is all he can think to offer.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Bits,” Kent murmurs seriously.

“But I—I’m messing everything up,“ Bitty moans, covering his face with his hands.

“Bittle, no—it’s on me,” Jack says, softly. “It’s not your fault.”

For a moment Bitty thinks he might cry because Jack sounds so sad even as he reassures him, but he manages to bite back the tears. “Please don’t break up because of me,” he whispers, and the words rip him to pieces but it’s all that he can do to fix this.

It’s quiet for a tense second, but then Kent reaches his arm over Bitty to slip his fingers into Jack’s hand. “I’m not planning on leaving you anytime soon,” he says to Jack over Bitty’s head.

“No,” Jack shakes his head. “I—Kenny. I love you, I really love you, and I want to be with you,” he tightens his fingers around Kent’s hand.

“I’m really, really glad,” Kent swallows, sounding relieved. “But—that being said… I wanted to hear you say you loved him because—well—fuck. Um. Okay, so I’m going back to Vegas soon,” he says, the words coming faster until they’re a blur. “And that means I won’t be here anymore, and I don’t want you to be all alone, Zimms.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asks, and that’s exactly what Bitty’s thinking; his mind is whirling around in circles like he used to spin during figure skating competitions.

“I mean—shit. If Bits wants to keep you company, and if you want him around—I’m saying I’m okay with that,” Kent sighs.



“Company—how?” Bitty finally speaks up, his voice a strangled gasp, because Kent can’t just mean as friends.

“Romantically, or—sex, if you guys want. Anything,” Kent says, sounding strained and sad.

“I don’t understand,” Jack says. “Kenny, aren’t we staying together—?”

“Yes, but—fuck,” Kent pulls his hand away from Jack’s. “Being in love with someone and not being able to be around them really hurts, okay? And I don’t want you to feel like that, Zimms, and—if having Bitty around means you won’t feel lonely then I’m okay with it,” Kent says, sounding almost panicked.

“Oh, Kenny,” Bitty says softly, and Kent flinches slightly, as if he’s not expecting the comfort.

“Not—not if you don’t want to, Bitty,” Kent adds quickly. “Sorry—fuck, I’m probably getting way ahead of myself, aren’t I?”

“Kent—Jack—I just really, really don’t wanna get in the way of you two being together,” Bitty bites his lip.

“You won’t be,” Kent tells him. “I—I dunno. I just—fuck, I just don’t want Jack to leave me,” he whispers, jerking his head away so he’s not looking at either of them. “And if you’re there to make sure he’s not lonely, then maybe—maybe you won’t leave me, Zimms,” he whispers, almost to himself.

And Bitty’s heart breaks for him, just as Jack sits straight up in bed. “Kenny—I’m not leaving you. Really, Kenny, please—I’m not,” Jack says, and Kent sits up slowly, sighing through his nose.

“You say that now, but,” Kenny says, and then stops there, shaking his head.

Bitty sits up too, pulling his legs to his chest and looking between him. His chest is pounding harder than it had been during the hockey team auditions.

Jack doesn’t need him. He knows that.

But slowly, unraveling before his eyes, is the idea that Kent just might.

“Kenny,” he murmurs.

Kent’s gaze softens as it slides over him. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t—I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“Kenny,” Bitty says again. “You said—you said you wanted me to maybe keep Jack company, but—what about you?”

“Huh?” Kent’s eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“If I were to be with Jack—I would wanna be with both of you,” Bitty says quietly.

“Oh,” Kent breathes, eyes widened in shock.

“Bittle—“ Jack says then, “You—you’d want that?”

Bitty feels a flush rising on his cheeks, because in all of the excitement he’d almost forgotten that Jack doesn’t know—“I, um. I kinda really like you. And, um. Kent too?”

There’s a few seconds of silence. Both Jack and Kent are staring at him, and Jack is blushing.

“Bitty,” Jack sighs softly.

“Bits—really?” Kent nearly whispers.

“Yeah,” Bitty says. “I—when you both were touchin’ on me, I never wanted it to end—and I just don’t want anyone feelin’ sad anymore.” Including himself, because he really, really wants to be with Jack so much that it’s been tearing him apart—and he knows it’s selfish, but if he can have both of them—God, he’ll take it.

Kent gives a startled laugh. “I—fuck, wow. Bits. I—I’ll be in Vegas, though, you know?”

Bitty licks his lips. “Does that mean—you don’t want me?” he asks, the words pinching themselves out of his chest.

“No! I—shit,” Kent eyes Jack. “Um, I do? If Jack does—God, okay, you’re really great, all right?”

Bitty ducks his head, feeling flushed and warm from the compliment. “You, too,” he says honestly. But he needs Jack to be in this too, because if Jack doesn’t want him, God—“Um, Jack?” he says, and he feels almost scared.

“I’m in love with you,” Jack says again, and the words jolt through Bitty’s body just as they had the first time—“Both of you. And—if it wouldn’t hurt anyone, I really—I want to have you both in my life,” he says somberly.

Bitty presses his hand to his mouth, because he’s feeling anxious and fluttery with new hope he hadn’t thought would ever be justified. “Jack,” he whispers, full of emotion.

It’s Kent who drapes himself over Bitty though, pressing his face into Bitty’s chest. “Bits—you really—wouldn’t mind me also?”

“Of course not, honey,” Bitty lets a cautious hand rest on Kent’s back, and then he looks up and Jack’s face is breaking into a brilliant smile.

“I really—you two look really good together,” Jack says, leaning in toward them so his side is presses against Bitty’s. The warmth is perfection and bliss, just like the comfort of an oven on a cold winter day—Bitty could come back to this again and again and never get tired.

Kent laughs, his body shaking against Bitty’s as he drags his head up to look at Jack. “We know. We’re your type, aren’t we?”

Slowly, Bitty smiles. “Are we—we’re doing this, then?”

Jack and Kent share a look. “Yeah, we are,” Kent says after a moment. “I mean—you’re you, and Jack’s talked about you so much—I wanna get to know you, if you’ll let me. Not to mention the sex is fucking brilliant, and—um. And Jack loves you,” he adds quietly.

“I do,” Jack says, and this time when Bitty’s heart swells, it’s all happiness.

“Jack,” Bitty mumbles, pressing his face into Jack’s shoulder. “You have no idea—I like you so much, Jack.” He loves him, even, and it’s too early to say, but he really, really loves him, so much he feels like he’s sparkling with it.

Kent makes a pleased sound, and Bitty turns to grin at him. “Kenny—I wanna fall for you too, you know,” Bitty says.

“Oh?” Kent raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Bitty nods, feeling fuzzy as Kent reaches over to hold his hand. “So—keep trying to seduce me, I guess?”

Kent laughs then, looking back and forth between Bitty and Jack. “That was the plan, you know. Is it working?”

Bitty chuckles, warm and happy between the two of them. “Mhmm. You’re in luck—I think it just might be.”