More Protein
Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Ngozi Ukazu's Check Please!, and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece. All other situations and plot developments are mine.
Summary: Do you think I made Bittle uncomfortable when I told him to eat more protein?
Author's Note: This has been bouncing around my head for like, forever and I finally committed it to paper. I don't ask too many questions—neither should you. Enjoy. Possible out-of-characterness. Beta'd by Twistedmiracle.
Comments and constructive criticism are always welcomed.
Published: 2 November 2021
Rating: T
Jack was sitting in the airport when he thought of something that left him feeling anxious. He tried to dismiss the thought; it didn't go away. He tried doing going over a journal article on his tablet for his senior capstone, but after the seventh time of reading the same sentence in a row and retaining nothing, he gave up. He tried a different tactic—reviewing plays and looking over some of the coaches' suggestions for the team—but even hockey wasn't helping. The anxiety-inducing thought wasn't dissipating. If anything, it was growing and taking up more and more space in Jack's brain.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and he pulled out his phone after he tucked his tablet away in the front pocket of his backpack.
J: Hey Shits. I have a slightly delicate question.
Thankfully, his phone pinged a moment later.
B.S. KNIGHT: Yr dck shldnt b itchn tht mch. See dr prnto!
J: Ha ha.
J: I'm being serious.
J: & I know you're just skipping vowels to be annoying. Stop it.
B.S. KNIGHT: Ou, serious questions! Lay it on me, you broody Adonis, you!
B.S. KNIGHT: See? Used vowels, just for you!
Shitty's gentle ribbing was good. It felt normal, and loosened the tightness in his chest. If Jack was focused on Shitty's teasing, he wasn't focusing on how he wasn't better.
J: Thanks.
J: Do you think I made Bittle uncomfortable when I told him to eat more protein?
B.S. KNIGHT: ?
B.S. KNIGHT: How'd that make Bits uncomfortable?
B.S. KNIGHT: You tell him that all the time
J: Yes, but realised it might be inappropriate.
J: Don't want him to feel awkward or harassed.
B.S. KNIGHT: ?
B.S. KNIGHT: Why'd you think Bits'd feel harassed?
Jack sighed silently. He didn't want to have to spell it out.
J: Because he's gay?
Shitty was silent for a moment. Jack felt his anxiety start to spike and he had to make himself take some slow, measured breaths.
Shitty finally texted back another trio of questions marks and said not sure where you're coming from. Walk me through it?
Jack sighed again.
J: Because of slang for 'protein shot'?
J: & I keep telling him he needs more of it?
J: & He might feel like that's uncalled for & unsolicited & rude?
B.S. KNIGHT: ?
B.S. KNIGHT: …
B.S. KNIGHT: !
B.S. KNIGHT: Holy SHIT.
B.S. KNIGHT: H O L Y
B.S. KNIGHT: S H I T
B.S. KNIGHT: !
B.S. KNIGHT: !
B.S. KNIGHT: !
B.S. KNIGHT: Let me get this straight
B.S. KNIGHT: Did JACK LAUNDRY ZIMMERMANN just ask me
B.S. KNIGHT: if Bitty
B.S. KNIGHT: Y
B.S. KNIGHT: thinks he's telling him
B.S. KNIGHT: he needs to go out
B.S. KNIGHT: & suck some dick
B.S. KNIGHT: every time tells him he needs
B.S. KNIGHT: 'more protein'?!
B.S. KNIGHT: !
B.S. KNIGHT: *Laurent
B.S. KNIGHT: I'm saving this conversatio !
B.S. KNIGHT: Framing it & putting it on my wall
B.S. KNIGHT: Commissioning L to paint it
J: Shits! This is serious!
J: I don't want him to be uncomfortable because I've been unknowingly harassing him!
B.S. KNIGHT: Whoa there, nobody thinks that.
B.S. KNIGHT: Especially not Bitty.
B.S. KNIGHT: I doubt he even knows what *that* means
J: Are you sure?
B.S. KNIGHT: Yes
B.S. KNIGHT: Could ask him, if make you feel better
J: NO
J: I just wanted to make sure I wasn't saying something inappropriate.
B.S. KNIGHT: In the clear, my sexy man. You're in the clear
J: Merci, Shits.
B.S. KNIGHT: NP
B.S. KNIGHT: But now I've got questions. How do YOU know about 'protein shots'?
J: Sorry, plane's loading. Talk to you later.
J: Thanks again.
B.S. KNIGHT: NO!
B.S. KNIGHT: JAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
B.S. KNIGHT: Inquiring minds need to know!
B.S. KNIGHT: I can see ur reading my messages!
B.S. KNIGHT: Stop ignoring me!
B.S. KNIGHT: I'm gonna blow up ur phone with texts & calls so u go over ur limit!
B.S. KNIGHT: & dont tell me uve got unlimited
B.S. KNIGHT: Ill do it so mch it wnt mttr!
B.S. KNIGHT: ! ! !
Jack tucked his phone in his pocket, relief washing over him. It was a huge weight off of his chest to know he wasn't inadvertently harassing Bitty and that Bitty wasn't feeling like Jack was targeting him for his sexuality; Bitty didn't deserve that.
Jack reached into the main pocket of his backpack, intent on pulling out his book so he could get a little light reading done (Fields of Fire: The Canadians in Normandy; while he knew he should be more productive, doing something enjoyable probably was a better idea because the reward system worked) before the plane loaded (he knew he should feel guilty about lying to Shitty, but it was the little lie or endless teasing) when his fingers brushed against something foreign. Curious and with growing apprehension, he tugged it out. He huffed, worry replaced with something closer to fond exasperation. Somehow, Bitty had managed to tuck a bag of cookies into his backpack when nobody was looking.
He shook his head, but didn't resist the urge to pull one out to taste.
It was, of course, delicious.
Jack forced himself to stop after two cookies; just because he had staved off an anxiety attack did not mean he had free rein to eat an entire bag of sugar and butter, even if they had raisins and almonds in them.
He was going to have to figure out what to do with the cookies; if he mentioned them to his parents, his father would eat half of them, but not saying anything would be too close to hiding them, and if his parents were worried he was hiding things again…he couldn't put them through that again. He had to be better for them. He needed to be better.
Jack did a few rounds of box breathing to get back under control: Inhale, un hippoptoame, deux hippopotames, trois hippopotames, quatre hippopotames; hold, un hippoptoame, deux hippopotames, trois hippopotames, quatre hippopotames; exhale, un hippoptoame, deux hippopotames, trois hippopotames, quatre hippopotames; hold, un hippoptoame, deux hippopotames, trois hippopotames, quatre hippopotames; repeat. He had a whole plane ride to figure out what to do with his cookies; he would work out a solution.
He pulled his phone back out and—ignoring the massive block of texts he had from Shitty—sent a quick message to Bitty. Because Bitty was so addicted to his phone he was all but surgically attached to it, his reply was nearly instantaneous.
E.R. BITTLE: Aw, you're welcome, sweetpea!
He smiled a little at his screen. Only Bitty would dare to call someone like Jack Zimmermann a flower name, and mean it in a good way.
Jack texted back a reminder that just because Bitty had gone home, it didn't mean he could ignore his meal plan.
E.R. BITTLE: LOL! I know, I know! I should eat more protein!
E.R. BITTLE: ;)
Jack nearly choked and he had to shift his position on the hard plastic chair. The comment came too close on the heels of his conversation with Shitty, and now Jack had a mental image in his head he didn't know what to do with. It was…
…Something Jack absolutely was not going to think about, particularly not in public and hopefully never again! Bitty was his teammate. He was Bitty's captain. He needed to be better than—
A new text from Bitty popped up.
E.R. BITTLE: See? I'll be getting all I need!
Oh no.
Jack's brain tried to go there but before it could get too far, a picture came in.
It was of Bitty, smiling brightly as he staggered under the weight of two turkeys that were almost bigger than he was.
Jack felt a whole well of emotions swell up inside and he did the only sensible thing to do in a situation like this—he pushed them all away and pretended he hadn't felt any of them. The whiplash between what was happening in Jack's head and reality was intense, and Jack was going to pretend he hadn't almost gone down that path. This whole thing never happened, and Jack never envisioned Bitty—innocent, sweet Bitty—leaning forward and parting his pink lips to—
Another text appeared.
E.R. BITTLE: Is that enough for you, Coach Zimmermann? ;P
Jack swallowed hard because apparently, his head was going to read that as suggestive, even though it wasn't, and shakily texted ha ha back. Then he told Bitty that his plane was boarding and he'd talk to him later. He needed to end the conversation before his traitorous brain took him to a place where he'd never be able to look Bitty in the eye again.
Before he could put his phone away, Bitty got another text in.
E.R. BITTLE: Okay, sweetpea! Have a safe journey! Text me when you safely land!
Jack paused, but then his fingers were moving.
J: Okay. Bonne journée.
E.R. BITTLE: I don't have French until next year, Mr Zimmermann, don't think you can sneak some in early!
Despite the churning of emotions in his gut, Jack chuckled. He wondered how Bitty managed to confuse him and comfort him at the same time, but maybe he shouldn't be surprised—it just was who Bitty was.
He tucked his cell away and opened his book again.
It gnawed at him, and finally, Jack gave in. He put his book aside, reached into his bag, and pulled out another cookie.
It tasted like Bitty's smile.
x Fin x