bunny's scribbles

October 21st - Costume Malfunction

Bitty had been pretty sure the bunny costume had been the right choice, even if Tango thought he was a cat, but then Tango wasn’t the sharpest skate. And then Jack hadn’t responded. Bitty’s mind raced through scenarios - the picture he’d sent Jack was too risque and Jack had been standing next to someone and was now getting chewed out for being bi, or Jack thought he looked ridiculous and didn’t know how to tell him, or Jack’s phone was dead and he wasn’t ever going to respond because he’d dropped it down the dish disposal or -

Bitty was overthinking it. It was just, he’d dressed as a Zimmermann puck bunny, and if Holster wanted to give Jack shit for spending kegsters getting sucked off by Zimmermann puck bunnies (which Bitty now knew to be an entirely false accusation), and he wanted Jack to acknowledge that fact. Wanted him to acknowledge that he was the only Zimmermann puck bunny.

But now Jack wasn’t answering his texts.

Bitty retreated up to his room a little while later and tried calling him. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and then answered.

“Jack honey?” Bitty asked. He tried not to sound concerned but it didn’t work very well.

“Hey Bits,” Jack said. He sounded tired and stressed and in the background it sounded like there might be an espresso machine running.

“Jack? Where are you?” Bitty asked.

Jack was silent for a moment. “Starbucks.”

“Why are you at Starbucks?” Bitty asked.

“North of Pawtucket,” Jack added.

Bitty blinked. “Where north of Pawtucket?”

Jack hesitated before answering. “Attleboro?”

“Jack, what are you doing in Attleboro?” Bitty asked, sitting on his bed. He couldn’t stop playing with the ears of his costume.

“I was driving to Samwell,” Jack said. He sounded disappointed in himself.

Bitty exhaled sharply. “Why? It’s ten pm honey.”

“I know,” Jack said. “I just – you sent the picture of the costume? And god I just really miss you and want to—well, you know.”

Bitty couldn’t suppress his grin. “Do I? What do you want to do sweetheart?”

“I’m sitting in a Starbucks, Bittle, I’m not going to tell you,” Jack protested.

“Why not?” Bitty asked. “Is it dirty?”


“Would I have to take the costume off?” Bitty asked.

“Jesus Bits,” Jack groaned. Bitty could perfectly imagine the red on his face. And there was poor Jack sitting in a Starbucks just outside of Rhode Island.

“Well? Would I?” Bitty prompted.

“…no,” Jack admitted.

Bitty could hear the filthy tone in his own cackle. “Why Mr Zimmermann, do I need to bring the costume with me next weekend?”

“Only if you want to,” Jack said.

“Honey, if you think I wore this for any reason besides getting you all hot and bothered, you are so wrong,” Bitty replied.

On the other end of the phone, Jack groaned. “Why are you doing this to me, Bittle?”

Even though Bitty knew full well Jack couldn’t see him, he shrugged. “It’s nice to be reminded someone actually wants me. Like, a lot.”

Jack swore in French and Bitty thought he could hear Jack’s forehead hit the table at the Starbucks twenty minutes away.          

“I want you all the time,” Jack said. “It’s actually kind of problematic.”

Bitty laughed again. “So what are you doing in a Starbucks?”

“I started driving to come see you and then realised it wasn’t a good idea,” Jack said.

Bitty tapped his finger, trying to think it through. “Well, how about you come meet me at the corner, and then I’ll tell the boys and Lardo that I’m goin’ home with someone, and I can take the train back tomorrow?”

“Really?” Jack asked, his voice significantly brighter.

“Really,” Bitty replied. He could hear the sound of a door opening and Jack’s truck starting. “I want you all the time too, sugar.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Jack said. “Love you.”

It still made Bitty’s heart flutter in surprise whenever Jack said it, but Bitty wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Love you too,” he said. “I’ll see you soon, honey.”