A/N: Hey folks! New fandom I've been obsessed with. I'm trying to be better about cross-posting my stuff instead of posting on Ao3 and then here like...a year later. Hopefully gonna go back and do some clean up of old stuff-properly mark anything as abandoned that y'all are still hoping for updates on...

In the mean time, definitely check out the webcomic Check, Please! if you're not familiar with it! It's super fun! Enjoy!

By the time 10 o'clock rolled around, Eric had only made one pie with his new oven. He would've made more, but people kept pressing drinks into the birthday boy's hands while the first pie baked and, as a polite, southern gentleman, he had to drink them. And of course, he couldn't defile his new oven with drunk baking. So one pie. Which had quickly disappeared into the mass of people crowded into the Haus.

And now Eric was drunk and couldn't even look at his oven because if he did he would think about how everyone had bought the thing and hid it from him and he was not going to cry again–

So he avoided the kitchen and instead ended up talking to Farmer who had lost Chowder at some point. Eric liked Farmer. Eric may have said that out loud. Farmer just laughed and tugged him across the room towards the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jack was talking with Shitty. Farmer pushed Eric gently towards the two of them and he was caught by Shitty. "Well hellooooo, birthday boy!" Shitty pulled him into a tight hug which had the added bonus of holding Eric upright.

"Trouble with your feet, Bittle?" Jack smiled softly.

Eric held up a finger and pulled away from Shitty to look at Jack. "That was a terrible chirp, Mr. Zimmermann." He started to lean to the side but was caught by Jack as Shitty patted Jack's shoulder and wandered away.

"I'm saving the best ones for when you can stand without help." Jack grabbed the solo cup out of Eric's hand before he could take another drink. "Let's get you some water." He pushed Eric through the crowd and into the kitchen which had been declared off limits for the evening and surprisingly was empty. No one usually listened when things were off limits. If they did, he wouldn't have to lock his room during parties.

Of course, in the kitchen Eric caught sight of the new oven again. He tightened the grip he had on Jack. No, he had already cried tonight. He had already cried on Jack tonight.

"Bittle?" Jack looked down to Eric leaning against him and staring at the oven and starting to tear up.

"I can't believe you got me an oven," Eric whispered, hiding his face against Jack, repeating his actions from earlier in the evening and getting tears on Jack's shirt again. Eric was a mess.

Jack shrugged, patted Eric on the back, and handed him a glass of water. "It's just an oven."

Eric shook his head but didn't say anything, sipping at the glass. He was tired. Maybe he should just go to sleep.

"Hey." Jack nudged Eric back into awareness. "I'm not a pillow. Come on." But Eric was too tired to do more than hold on to Jack. Exam, oven, party. It had been a long day.

He shut his eyes for a bit and when he opened them again, he was standing in front of the door to his room with Jack shaking him. "Key, Bittle." Eric patted down his pockets. Key. He pulled his key out of his pocket. Jack took it from him and opened the door.

"Happy birthday, Bittle."

Eric opened his eyes again at Jack's voice. When had he closed them? Now he was lying down in his bed, shoes off and under a blanket. His door clicked shut. Señor Bunny was in his hands. Eric looked at him and squeezed him tight and slipped off to sleep.