Two Beers and the Truth
An extremely late birthday fic for @wrathofthestag, who shares my hopes for Coach and Bitty. Here’s a little fic about how I hope the summer goes for the Bittle Clan…
Bitty knew that coming out to coach would end one of three ways.
The first scenario was the one that had kept him silent since middle school when he realized that it didn’t matter how many girls stole kisses from him, he just wasn’t interested. He could see Coach’s face turning to stone, the way it did when the Dawgs lost a game in overtime, and hear his father’s steely voice proclaiming I have no son. Some nights he would still wake up shaking when he thought about that scenario, if he was lucky, Jack would be there to gather him up and mutter soothing bits of nonsense into his hair as he trembled.
The second scenario was more likely, but still not something Bitty was looking forward to. Coach would press his lips together until they disappeared behind his mustache, then nod with a resigned air. If he was lucky, Bitty would get an awkward slap on the back and Coach would mutter something Suzanne told him Oprah said to say. It would be disappointment, but acceptance. Some days Bitty wondered if that wouldn’t be worse than outright anger.
The third scenario Bitty blamed on Chowder, who seemed to think everyone in the world would be thrilled with a gay son. In this dream setup, Coach cried, opening his arms to his son and assuring Bitty that he could never be prouder of a child. They would cry together, then, hugged up on the porch swing, talking about life and maybe boys.
Bitty bit his lip, wondering which scenario he would be living through. He rolled his shoulder, preparing for a disappointed pat. He glanced at his mother in the kitchen.
With a sigh, Suzanne moved to the refrigerator, picking out two beers and holding them out to Bitty. She kissed his forehead. “Go on, I’ll be doing dishes if you need me.”
Bitty nodded and looked toward the porch again.
“I can do this,” he muttered. “For me. For Jack.”