CHECK, PLEASE! Short Stories

Cold Weather, Warm Drinks, Warm Hearts

Title: Cold Weather, Warm Drinks, Warm Hearts

Summary: 

It was fall.

And fall meant Cold weather and Warm drinks. Sad Storms and Happy People. Warm blankets, Warm fires, Warm hands and Warm, Warm hearts.

It was a drowsy afternoon and Bittle decided it was the perfect day to make apple cider.

Warnings: None

Published: 10/24/17

Words: 828

A/N: Ayye this take places during the first fall that theyre dating.

Cold Weather, Warm Drinks, Warm Hearts

It was fall.

And fall meant Cold weather and Warm drinks. Sad Storms and Happy People. Warm blankets, Warm fires, Warm hands and Warm, Warm hearts.

It was a drowsy afternoon and Bittle decided it was the perfect day to make apple cider.

Jack was still asleep in their room. He had gotten home late from a successful home game last night, and had immediately passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. It was now 10:23, which meant Jack had been asleep for approximately 9 hours, which was understandable. Jack had scored 3 of the 4 goals the falconers won last night, and his plans of leaving as soon as the game was over were crushed. He was stuck there for 2 hours just answering press questions.

Bittle had watched his boyfriend on TV from his boyfriends couch. How crazy was that? He was so proud of Jack for how far he had come and how far he was going to continue on.

He hummed Whenever, Wherever as he stirred the pot of apple cider, hoping Jack would be up soon. He didn't want to reheat the cider, it was never as good that way.

Apple cider was one of Jack's favorite drinks, he had learned that during his second year at Samwell. October 22nd, he knew the date by heart for some reason. Jack was warming up as slowly as the pot of apple cider simmering over low heat, and Bittle was coming to terms with the fact that his infatuation with the Captain would be dead-ended road.

He had already told off Chow, Nursey, and Dex when it came to taste-testing the cider. 'I can take care of that myself, you common-folk have no taste palate.' Apparently Bity had either assumed the Seniors knew better than to taste his cooking before it was down, or Jack had not been around to hear his scolding words, but Jack foolishly used the wooden spoon with which Bitty was using to stir, and felt it was perfectly okay to slurp it up.

As if Bittle had some sort of 6th sense, he stormed into the kitchen, ready to chew him out. The only thing stopping him was the stern look on Jacks face.

'You don't make cider very often, eh.'

'No,' He confirmed, 'only during the really cold weather. And there were only one or two where I was old enough to make it without Mama's help.'

Jack smiled softly, though Bitty wasn't sure why. 'My dad always boiled orange slices in it.'

'...And it tasted alright?'

'One of my top 3 drinks.' He grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl and began cutting it up.

Bittle watched him do this, holding his tongue, careful not to critique his technique. 'What are the other two?'

'Coke Zero.'

'and?-'

'Wayne Gretskys homemade lemonade.'

He laughed. 'Seriously?'

'He invited us to his housewarming party a few years ago. I swear I had 20 glasses of the stuff.'

He made a mental note to try and find Gretskys recipe. Then he sat on the counter and watched Jack make his dads cider.

A year later, Bittle had secretly exchanged Jacks dads cider recipe for a chocolate chip cookie recipe, and made it every fall day in which they were stuck inside.

After he finished this batch, he poured 2 cups and set them on the coffee table.

He turned the TV on, waiting for Jack to wake up.

Some 15 minutes later, Jack walked down the hall, their beds comforter wrapped around him like he was some sort of sleep-deprived mummy.

"Morning sweetheart." He smiled. Jack said nothing as he flopped on the couch, snuggling against his small, heat lamp of a boyfriend.

Bittle held up his cider mug as a gesture that he had some for Jack. Jack grabbed the other mug.

"How did you sleep?"

"Like a baby."

"I'll never understand if that's a good thing or bad thing. In my babysitting experience, babies never slept very well."

"Monsieur Lampe chauffante, it's a very good thing. j'ai bien dormi merci. Last night I was tomber de sommeil."

"You know my french vocabulary doesn't stretch that far, Jacques." He giggled. Jack leaned over and kissed him quickly, pulling back to tease him slightly. Bitty laughed and hit his arm. He tugged his sleep and pulled him back.

Jack snuggled into Bitty, holding his cider close.

"Are you gonna share that blanket with me, monsieur?" Bittle chided the blanket-hog.

"Maybe if you get me more cider...?"

"Not a chance, you have two perfectly working legs."

He pouted, and leaned in closer. Bitty giggled. "Not happening."

Jack sighed, got up from his comfortable position, and poured himself another cup.

"Wanna put a movie in?" He asked when he got back.

"Of course." They snuggled and shared the warmth of the hot drink between the two of them, watching ridiculous fall-themed Hallmark movies, and thanking the stars for cold weather.