It’s two in the morning, Bitty has a test in his economics class in six hours. He did his homework, showered, and called Jack on Skype an hour ago. It was normal to have chats that they both fell asleep during, to have to come back to the Haus after his first class to grab his phone, fully charged. Bitty will occasionally even send his boyfriend some tarts, cookies, or other baked goods (the man can’t ONLY eat pie, that’s ridiculous). These little care packages, texting, and bi-weekly Skype calls are about all the interaction Jack and Bitty get to have, and boy do they try and make the most of it. Even if no one really knows what bi-weekly means. Is it every two weeks? Twice a week? With Jack and his schedules, Bitty can honestly say that either would be a correct definition.
When Bitty called, it wasn’t his fault he happened to be wearing a loose sleep shirt that happened to have slid off one shoulder. And yes, true, Bitty is often known to wear fuzzy pajama pants when he gets cold, and in the Haus it is often cold. But when Bitty is not cold, who can blame him for not wearing pants, in the privacy of his room no less?
Sure, Jack might have said something in the past about fucking Bitty out of a specific pair of shorts, but how was Bitty to know that laundry would make it so that he was wearing these particular shorts that Jack seemed to like him in— or out of, as the case may be. All in all, it’s not his fault at all. He didn’t plan this, and certainly can’t be held accountable.
Oh but how he wants to be. He can see Jack’s stare getting hotter and drawn further and further down his chest as the shirt slips again, and when Bitty gets up to check his wall calendar Jack outright gasps. Bitty immediately rushes over to ask Jack if he’s alright, but it’s inherently clear in Jack’s small blush that everything is perfectly alright.
Bitty really should take responsibility, he thinks, staring at Jack with a debaucherous grin.
“Are you okay, honey?” Bitty knows it’s not. He just wants to hear Jack say it.
“Well, I’m thoroughly seduced, if that’s what you’re really asking.” Jack is trying to seem unamused, but he knows what’s coming. This may be the first time over Skype, but they have spent quite a bit of time together not on the crappy video call service.
Bitty responds to Jack in kind.
“Mr. Zimmermann, I do believe you are wearing too much clothing for our activities tonight, wouldn’t you agree?”
“It’s two in the morning, Bits,” Jack points out, but he’s already stripped of his shirt, and working on his pants. Bitty fans himself. There’s nothing that says “buff” or “butt” quite like a NHL-class hockey player who has a nutritionist and spent more time on the ice than off as a teenager.
“What do you want tonight, baby?” he asks Jack, leaning his phone on a pillow so that he has both hands free. Jack thinks before he responds, glancing at something beyond the camera before speaking.
“The toy we ordered?” Bitty smiles.
“That’s perfect. Get it and the lube for me?”
The two had done some online shopping when Bitty was last in Providence, and they had decided to stay a little conservative and only bought a small bullet vibrator, not for insertion, instead of the carts worth of stuff they put in their cart. One at a time, Jack had said, always the pragmatist.
“Now,” Bitty started, “I want you to turn it on, and drag it from your wrist to your neck, slowly, to get used to it.” Bitty watched as Jack shivered, cock hardening as the small vibrator traveled across his body.
“Circle your nipple with it.”
“Now your other nipple.”
“Baby, you’re doing so well. Can you keep it on your nipple while you start fingering yourself for me?”
Jack took each command with a nod and a small shiver. He absolutely loved it when Bitty took charge, and Bitty took charge often, delivering commands as he was now, palming his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts. Jack inserted one finger, and then two, an then dropped the vibrator and almost fell over trying to catch it. Bitty let out a snort, and then quickly covered his mouth with his hands to stop himself from laughing outright.
“Are you okay?” he asked, muffled.
“Ugnh, I’m fine, I guess I usually don’t do this without holding myself up.”
“Honey, if you don’t think you can—”
“I can do it! I just, need a moment, to move,” Jack moved himself so that he was leaning against a small wall of pillows, and then continued right back from where he stopped, letting out a moan that had Bitty lurching for the volume controls.
“Sweetheart you’re doing so well. Can you move the vibrator to your cock for me?” Bitty asked, fluttering his eyelashes and fisting his cock. Jack just stared at him for a moment, the image too much to handle.
“You okay, Jack?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” He smiles, and Bitty blinks at him in surprise. “I love you.”
“Mr. Zimmermann! I love you too honey, where is this coming from?” Jack does a kind of not-shrug and puts the vibrator against the head of his cock. As Bitty predicted, he lets out another one of those deliciously loud moans and comes almost instantly. Bitty whispers encouragements and positive reinforcement, along with other reminders of his love. When Jack comes down from his high he looks at Bitty regretfully, almost reproachful.
“Oh honey, I wish I was there too. Make sure you clean yourself up, okay?”
“It wasn’t that. Well, it was, and thanks Mother Bittle. I was just, ahh. It’s just that this time you didn’t tell me to come.”
“Oh! Well I’m certainly not upset sweetheart. I figured you would. I came just watching you.”
“You know how attractive you are, Jack.”
“Aha. I must not have heard you.”
“With this much practice staying quiet? I’ll be surprised if I make much noise during sex again.” Bitty wipes his hand up with a tissue, deciding to wash his hands after he says goodnight to Jack. When he looks up at the screen, Jack has a wide grin on his face. Bitty smiles back instinctively. “What’s that smile for, sweetheart?”
“Next time we’re together I’ll just have to make sure you make a lot of noise. We can’t have you being quiet.” Bitty blushes and tells Jack a hasty goodbye.