No piece of mine has never had as much interest surrounding it as this one has, so thank you for expressing your excitement to me. I hope you’ll find it was worth the wait. (Protip: if you’re reading on mobile, ditch the app and read on Safari or Chrome instead, as the app is prone to close on longer pieces of text).
This one is dedicated to @permanentcross, simply because she’s the best. E has listened to me ramble on and on about this story for longer than anyone should have to. She’s the inspiration behind many things beneath the cut, all of which I will leave up to your own interpretation.
Without further adieu, I present you with Nine Months…
The lights are off, but the other side of the bed is cold, covers thrown back haphazardly. Jack searches through the dark for the neon light of their clock, reading 4:16 am.
He listens to the silence, the eventual ringing of it filling his ears. Just as he starts drifting back to sleep, there’s another thump, this time followed by the sound of a door slamming. In an instant Jack’s up, adrenaline rushing through his veins. As he feels his way down the hallway, he can’t help but think of the worst, of Bitty missing, of an intruder sneaking in and hurting him, killing him–
It’s not until he turns the corner to his kitchen that he sees it.
And by it, he means Bitty, leaning over the counter in the dark and putting the finishing touches on what has to be the tallest cake Jack has ever seen. Jack feels the tension leave his body. This, he can handle. There are smears of flour across Bitty’s chest, and he’s wearing nothing but Jack’s too-big sweats, hung low on his hips, and he’s safe.
Jack watches from the hallway silently as Bitty reaches into the drawer and pulls out candles and a lighter. He places each one on with care, 36 simple white sticks. Bitty lights them all one by one, slow and deliberate. Jack’s not exactly sure what’s happening, but this isn’t the first time he’s gotten up in the middle of the night to find Bitty mass-producing baked goods.
Bitty takes a step back, hands on his hips. Jack barely catches the exhausted “Finally,” that escapes his lips. He looks… relieved. Peaceful.
“Happy Birthday, Ms. Beyoncé Giselle Knowles,” Bitty sighs before closing his eyes and blowing out the candles all in one breath.
“Are you serious?” Jaebum asked incredulously, eyes wide.
“Yes, I am,” You responded confidently, “and you are not going to do anything about it. Are you, Daddy?”
The car was heavy with tension as you sat a red light, the clock nearing midnight, and you felt as though your body was buzzing with electricity. Jaebum’s presence felt heavy and suffocating next to you. All you wanted to do was reach across the center console and make contact with any open skin you could get your fingers on. You needed to feel him, and if you didn’t soon you were sure you would combust. But, with the way you acted at dinner you knew better than to touch him. You were “in trouble” as he put it. You scoffed at the thought.
“What is so funny over there?” Jaebum asked, turning his head for you for a second before returning his eyes to the road.