Chapter Text
It’s halfway through April and Dex is sitting on his bed as Nursey mills about the room, getting ready for his night out. Friday evening is always a strange kind of purgatory for Dex. He never quite knows what to do after he’s done working for the day, but he doesn’t need to get ready for any parties yet.
He decides to take the guitar out to get a feel for it again and see if he remembers anything useful. He goes over to his closet and brings it out, but he’s only able to sit back down on his bed and strum a single chord before Nursey interrupts him.
“So you’re just gonna whip out a guitar with no exposition or explanation at all?”
Dex looks up and sees Nursey staring at him from where he’s leaning on his desk, expectant. “My parents were cleaning out the attic over spring break, and my dad was going to get rid of his old guitar, so I had to bring it here to save it.”
Nursey nods, intrigued. “Do you still play?”
Dex shakes his head. “It’s been a long time.”
He tunes the guitar a bit and strums it a couple of times, trying to remember if he still has one of his old books somewhere in his room back home. Nursey pulls up a chair across from him and takes a seat, propping his chin up on his right hand. “What are the songs you learned?”
“Some of the Stones, some Kings of Leon, a little bit of the Who.”
Nursey smirks, ostensibly entertained by what Dex just said. “Incredibly on brand.”
“I feel like when you say I do something on brand it’s either a dig or the dig is coming up.”
“Bro, I think the whole White dudes playing guitars thing is super fucking tight, definitely not lame as hell or wack as shit or anything.”
“And there it is,” Dex declares. “You never disappoint.”
“So, when are you gonna play me a song? Will it be a serenade? A lullaby, mayhaps?”
“Let’s see,” Dex announces, as if he’s taking it under genuine consideration. “To answer the first part it’ll be never, so to answer your second question, it will be…neither.”
“Wow,” Nursey exclaims, pretending to be shocked and betrayed. “Am I really going to finish this whole first year as your roommate without any of the silky smooth stylings of Baritone Billy?”
“I’m frustrated with myself,” Dex decides aloud, “Because I don’t hate Baritone Billy as much as I absolutely should.”
“‘Cause it’s that perfect mix of corny and dope. It’s in that sweet spot so you can’t resist.”
Dex shakes his head and looks back down at his guitar, hoping he’s not too obvious about being charmed by Nursey. “You might be right.”
Dex allows himself a quick glance as Nursey goes back to getting ready, but he makes sure to keep his gaze from lingering. Out of his periphery, he sees Nursey double check his pockets, fix his shirt collar and take one last look in the mirror before heading to the door. Right before his hand turns the knob, he stops, presumably remembering something he forgot.
“Poindexter,” Nursey calls, to Dex’s surprise.
Dex looks up, suddenly nervous. “Yeah?”
“I just wanted to double check, like. Before I go. We’re cool, right? Like, everything is chill?”
No, Dex thinks, jealousy rising up harsh and bitter. Not even remotely.
“Yeah,” he lies. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” Nursey responds, looking down at his hands and fiddling with his keys. “I just. I know I’ve been spending a lot of time with Andrew lately and we haven’t really had like a…one on one d-man chill sesh in a while, you know?”
Dex’s evidently limitless jealousy expands, deepened and strengthened by a bleak, depressing realization. He feels sorry for you.
“Yeah, but that just happens when you start dating someone,” he shrugs, playing the role of supportive, unperturbed roommate. “It’s alright.”
Nursey looks at him sharp and discerning, clearly displeased by Dex’s response, brow furrowed by a still unresolved problem. “Do you want to go for a jog tomorrow?”
Dex’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re gonna get up at 6:00 a.m. to join me for my morning run?”
“Hell nah ‘cause you O.D and I’m not with that crack of dawn nonsense,” Nursey responds, quick and assured. “You’re gonna wait for me so we can go at a reasonable and humane hour.”
“Fine,” Dex yields, with a scoff. “Sounds good.”
Nursey grins, satisfied. “And then tomorrow night, we're gonna have the sickest time at Shitty's party.”
“Definitely,” Dex agrees, perking up at the reminder that he has an Andrew-free night with Nursey in Boston to look forward to.
“'Swawes,” Nursey nods. “Well, I’m off, Poindexter. Try to not to miss me too much.”
“Not sure how yet, but I think I’ll survive,” Dex quips.
Nursey smiles at him, gives a quick wave, and heads out the door. Dex takes the opportunity to reflect on why, when, and how he became so deeply and unresolvedly screwed.
The why and how are fairly easy, so he gets them out of the way. After you realized you needed to get along in order to survive sharing a room, you started to listen more and argue less, and as you got closer, unfortunate feelings started to develop.
In our defense, Dex thinks, Nursey is smart and funny and gorgeous with an actual fan club, so we never really had a chance.
The when of it all isn’t as clear and straightforward to figure out. Slowly, he thinks, starting when they got back from the summer and started junior year. Steadily, with every argument that was prevented by hard-fought patience and genuine attempts at understanding.
These days, it’s even more flared up and aggravated by the fact that he has to share Nursey with the world’s most annoying douchebag. He presumes Andrew could be seen as handsome if you’re into the whole blond and preppy trust fund baby thing, but either way, he wouldn’t mind being jealous that Andrew’s more attractive if he could only be less insufferable.
Whatever, he thinks to himself, going back to the guitar. You and Nursey would never happen anyway, so there’s no point in even thinking about it. He focuses on putting his fingers in the right spots, takes a moment to picture the chords, and keeps playing.
----
Dex reasonably wakes Nursey up at nine a.m., undeterred despite Nursey’s grumblings. They get dressed and ready to go in near complete silence because Nursey wakes up in stages, and takes a little while to do so completely.
“Alright,” Nursey says, once they’re stretching on the sidewalk. “What’s your route?”
“On a weekend run, I usually take the long back way to Annie’s, and then I get some coffee and walk back to the Haus.”
“Nice,” Nursey nods, straightening up. “Let’s go.”
They start the jog off at a slow and steady pace, sprinting at different times, chatting along the way. Nursey teases Dex about his overly serious Running Face and chirps him for normally doing this even earlier in the morning. He’s a pest, but Dex is enjoying himself.
When they get to Annie’s it’s pretty busy, but the line for the café isn’t that long.
“Could I have a large dark roast, no room,” Dex says, when they get to the register. “As well as a medium vanilla cinnanut latte, half-caf and extra hot, please?”
“Sure,” the cashier says. “What’s the name for the order?”
“Will,” Dex says, taking out a ten and handing it to her. When he looks back over at Nursey, he’s on the receiving end of a curious, perplexed look. He puts a dollar in the tip jar and goes to the end of the bar where everyone else is waiting.
“That was a pretty good guess for my drink, Poindexter.”
“Well- Well,” Dex stammers, realizing he doesn’t really have a good or normal reason for remembering Nursey’s coffee order perfectly. “Well, I mock you so much for your ridiculous drink, I guess by now I could order it on my own.”
“Whatever.”
“I don’t even understand how or why you drink these sugary barely-even-coffee drinks like you do.”
“It’s called living your best life, William. I understand being an anti is a full-time job, but maybe on your next day off you could try it.”
“I’ll stick to my actual coffee, thanks.”
“The gall it takes. The nerve required to diss my tasty lattes when there is no beverage that has more of a chaotic and dark-sided energy than black coffee with nothing in it.”
“What’s incredible about you is that you take the preposterousness to a point where it’s almost a skill,” Dex says, as they bring his coffee to the bar. “Like, you might actually have a gift.”
They get their drinks and sip them on their way back to the Haus, chatting about what Shitty’s last party was like and how messy and ridiculous the group chats get when something important is coming up. When they arrive, Ford is in the kitchen looking distressed.
“Dex,” she says, perking up at the sight of him. “The garbage disposal is acting up and I was wondering if you would mind taking a look at it?”
“Sure,” he agrees, throwing his coffee cup away. “Let me go get my toolbox.”
When he comes back downstairs, Ford is sitting at the kitchen table scrolling on her phone, and Nursey’s sat next to her. Dex sets the toolbox down in front of them and goes over to the sink, crouching down and opening up the cabinet underneath to take a better look.
“You want some help?”
Dex turns to look at Nursey, surprised because he has no idea how Nursey could possibly help him fix a garbage disposal, but he wants to laugh.
“Sure,” he answers, already entertained and curious to see what Nursey will do. “Could you hand me the pipe wrench?”
“For sure,” Nursey says, looking down at the toolbox, focused and determined. “Pipe wrench,” he mutters to himself, as he picks tools up and puts them down.
Dex lets him search for a little bit longer before he puts an end to the charade. “You know what, why don’t you just bring the whole toolbox over here?”
Nursey snaps his head up and narrows his eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”
Dex tries to fight the smirk that’s building, but there’s no way he’s succeeding. “Like what?”
“Like I’m slow or something,” Nursey retorts, “Just because I didn’t, like…come out of the womb with a screwdriver already in my hand like you did.”
“Ridiculous and incorrect,” Dex says, getting up and walking over to where Nursey has the toolbox. “They were pliers.”
Ford and Nursey laugh at that, with Nursey throwing his head back and practically howling as he claps his hands. For a few moments, Dex buzzes from being the one who made him laugh that hard.
He gets down to business but it’s a simple jam, and he fixes it pretty quickly. When he’s finished, it’s actually working a little better than before because he cleared out some of the junk.
“You’re the best,” Ford says, hugging him.
“No problem, Foxtrot.”
“It really is so chill how you can just fix stuff,” Nursey says, and he should probably be worried by the rush he gets when Nursey gives him a compliment.
“Thanks.”
“So,” Ford starts, finishing her dishes now that the garbage disposal is working. “What time are you guys leaving for Shitty’s party?”
“I think Chowder said we’re leaving around 7, right Nurse?”
“Oh,” Nursey says, looking up from his phone. “Actually I’m gonna hang out with Andrew for a little bit before I go to the party, but I’ll definitely meet up with you guys in Boston.”
“Sounds good,” Dex lies, trying to simmer down by remembering he’ll still have most of the night. He packs up his tools, closes the toolbox up, and goes upstairs.
----
Shitty has an incredibly cool apartment, spacious and modern but still homey, and with a gorgeous view. They have plenty of time before the party starts so they’re all just hanging out, talking, pregaming and listening to music. He’s having a great time, but he does feel like something’s missing.
He’ll be here later, Dex reminds himself, looking down at his phone.
The party starts getting into high gear at around 10, and the apartment is full of people. Shitty’s law school friends are intelligent and a lot of fun, so he has some interesting conversations.
He’s loose, laughing through a stupid argument with Chowder, drunk enough to even bop to the music a little. He checks his phone obsessively as the night goes on, hoping to get a text from Nursey and fighting the urge to send one.
“Who has got you lookin’ at your phone every ten seconds?”
Bitty’s right in front of him, hitting him with a shrewd, discerning look. “No one,” he lies, putting his phone away and forcing himself to be present, remembering with a tinge of grief that his time with Bitty is dwindling down.
Despite the agitating absence, Dex keeps having a good time as the party goes on, and finds a cozy spot next to Chowder to crash on when everything dies down. The next day, they all get up at noon, thank Shitty profusely for everything, and head back to Samwell, hung-over but happy.
When Dex walks back into their room, Nursey is on his bottom bunk, reading.
“Hey,” Dex says.
“Sup,” Nursey replies, looking up from his book.
“So,” Dex starts, trying for casual. “Uh, did something happen to you last night?”
“Oh, um, nah. I just, uh. I kind of got into it with Andrew near the end of the night and afterwards I didn’t really feel like going anywhere.”
Of course, Dex thinks, already irked. Of course, Horrible Fucking Terrible Andrew ruined your night and kept you from having a good time with your friends, and it was probably over a shitty thing he did. Dex knows it’s not his business to ask what they got into an argument about, so he doesn’t.
“Well, it was a sick party. Jack showed up and the tadpoles looked like they were gonna cry.”
“Aw,” Nursey coos. “Just like you used to be about Jack.”
Dex narrows his eyes. “That’s inaccurate.”
“You’re right,” Nursey nods. “Just like you are about Jack.”
“Shut up,” Dex says, but he’s smiling, and despite still being annoyed about Andrew getting in his way last night, it comforts him a bit to see Nursey smile too.
---
The Spring C pregame at the Haus is an impressive event on its own, and preparations for it begin well in advance. He and Bitty bake a bunch of mini-pies that everyone will inhale, particularly after the drinking starts, and Dex tries to just enjoy it, without thinking about how much he’ll miss helping Bitty do his thing in the kitchen.
The entire hockey team and their various intertwining social circles fill the Haus, and Dex feels like everyone he’s ever met is here, except for. Well, except for.
Nursey is with Andrew at Andrew’s fraternity doing Andrew’s fraternity’s Spring C pregame party and Dex isn’t thinking about it, Dex isn’t bothered by it, and Dex definitely doesn’t drink a couple more beermosas than he should to take his mind off of it.
They start in the morning so by noon, Dex is remarkably drunk, but he’s holding his own. A bunch of them head to the field because even though the concert is later, Spring C has a carnival during the day that’s actually pretty fun. When they reach the carnival, they start passing around a water bottle Whiskey filled with Jungle Juice and make a mess as they eat cotton candy and play games. There’s still a small, nagging sense of emptiness that hasn’t been fixed, but Dex is having fun. He is. He’s having fun.
At some point, he finds himself standing in an enormous line for a corn dog. He should definitely pace himself from this point on, but he still has a good amount of control over his facilities. Someone bumps into him, and when he turns to tell them to watch where they’re going, he finds that it’s Nursey.
“Hey,” Dex exclaims, overjoyed to see him.
“Hey,” Nursey responds, but he seems out of it.
“What’s up?”
“Um, nothing I’m just kind of. Walking around?”
“What do you mean,” Dex starts. “Where’s Andrew?”
“Yeah, I guess, um. I guess I thought we were doing Spring C together but it seems like he found some other people, or linked up with his frat brothers. I don’t know.”
Classic, Dex thinks, clenching his jaw. Andrew made it seem like they'd be hanging out all day only to act like he had something better to do and ditch Nursey at the last second. When he’s had a bit to drink, it’s even harder to get the anger under control so he takes a deep breath.
“You want to come back with me? There’s a bunch of us on the hill, and we’re having a pretty good time.”
“Chill,” Nursey says, perking up a bit. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Chowder, Farmer and some of the volleyball girls, Foxtrot and some of her theater friends, Ollie, Wicks, Whiskey, Tango, and Bitty.”
“Nice,” Nursey nods. “Which volleyball girls?”
“Jamila, Stephanie and Taylor.”
“Cool, you must be happy Taylor’s there.”
Dex turns his head. “Why would I be happy Taylor’s there?”
Nursey looks as lost as Dex probably does. “Don’t you like, have kind of a thing for her?”
“No,” Dex says, and he delivers it too strongly. “I mean she’s cool and she’s pretty, but she’s-”
Not you, his brain completes, as the words hurry forward and multiply. She’s not you, she’s not you, she’s not you.
“Not my type,” his mouth provides, blessedly.
Nursey regards him with a quirked eyebrow. “Interesting. What is your type, Poindexter?”
Preppy New Yorkers with curly black hair, evidently. Clumsy hipsters with forest-green eyes, apparently. Hockey-playing poetry-writing pretty boys, as it would seem.
“I’m not sure. I just feel like she’s not it.”
“Hmm,” Nursey hums, miraculously not seeming to need to push the subject further.
They continue to wait in the longest line Dex has ever been in and catch each other up on the happenings of their days so far. After they finally get their corn dogs, they go back to the hill and everyone is thrilled to see Nursey. They sit back on the grass and Nursey is laid out next to him, laughing and gorgeous.
Nursey’s so close to him that he’d barely have to move his arm to take his hand, and Nursey would barely have to move his head to rest it in Dex’s lap, and Dex lets those daydreams breathe for a minute before packing them up and putting them away.
“Bet you’re excited for that DJ set,” Nursey starts, and Dex knows it’s a chirp. “Right, Chow?”
“So are you, Nursey,” Chowder retorts. “The only difference between you and me is that I’m honest about liking fratty EDM and you’re not.”
“Sounds fake but aight, broski.”
“Well, there’s a video of you on my phone where you’re singing your heart out to that Chainsmokers song that would probably disagree, so.”
Nursey sits up a bit, vexed and very suddenly alert. “Wait, were you really recording?”
Chowder, Farmer and Dex end up in a pile, laughing hysterically and leaning on each other for support as Nursey’s concern visibly grows. “C, are you forreal?”
“Of course not, bro,” Chowder answers, in his jovial, affable way. Nursey narrows his eyes and lays back down, and Dex makes a note to remember to ask Chowder to send him that video.
Nursey, staying true to form, takes a nap on the grass as the festival continues around them. Dex tries not to be weird and stare at him too much while he’s sleeping, and thankfully there are various shenanigans that occur and bring his attention away.
When Nursey wakes up, he looks at Dex sleepy and soft, and Dex wants death to arrive soon and happen quickly.
“What’s good, Dexy? What did I miss while I was asleep?”
“This girl and her friends were next to us and she was wasted,” Dex starts to update him. “Making a mess trying to eat her ice cream cone, and her friends were trying to help her but she didn’t let them.”
“Yo, you already know your boy is hashtag Team Drunk Girl.”
“Also, one of the Quad Cats was in front of us napping and it was still for so long we thought it was dead, until it finally moved but only to roll around to its other side and go back to sleep.”
“A lifestyle. Wow, if that ain’t me.”
“Yeah, I was gonna say that cat is your spirit animal but then I remembered that’s not a thing anymore.”
“And it touches the depths of my heart to see how far you’ve come,” Nursey announces into the air, loud and insincere. “I’m proud of you for that growth.”
“First of all, shut up,” Dex says, and Nursey chuckles. “Second of all, if I were you right now I would say that thing you say when people are being excessive.”
“Which one,” Nursey asks, turning back to him. “Being extra, doing the most or O.Ding?”
“Yes,” Dex nods, and Nursey’s chuckles distinctly develop into laughter. “The answer is yes.”
The rest of the day unfolds in a similar way with Nursey right by his side on the grass then in the crowd when the show starts, and the biggest gifts of Spring C are the moments it gives him where he can look at Nursey, stand close to Nursey, and pretend.
---
It’s a Saturday evening at the beginning of May, and Dex is frustrated because the coffee table is lopsided. He supposes he could sand it down, but he’d have to be careful not to create an even bigger slant, and make it even more uneven than it already is. The table stands in front of him, staring him down defiantly, and Dex stares right back.
“Dex?”
He turns his head as Nursey walks into the studio, confusion painting every feature. “What are you doing in the art building?”
“Some of the studios are open to non-art students and you can just sign up to use them,” Dex explains with a shrug. “I needed the carpentry stuff to finish this coffee table I’ve been working on forever.”
Nursey watches him for a moment, eyes going back and forth between Dex and the table. “You’re like…a sculptor or something.”
“Um, no.”
“Well, you’re an artist,” Nursey continues, undeterred.
“I enjoy carpentry as a hobby,” Dex insists, “But I’m definitely not an artist.”
Nursey crouches down and runs his hand over the top of the table before coming around to the edges. “This is just the cleanest detailing,” Nursey says, tracing over the corners of the coffee table. “Poindexter, you really didn’t have to go this hard.”
The rush returns and Dex looks down at his hands, hoping his skin doesn’t flush. “Thanks.”
“Are you bringing it back to the Haus?”
“Tomorrow, yeah. I have to find somewhere to put it for the summer, and I’m thinking the basement.”
“Do you want some help carrying it?”
“I'm borrowing a cart so I think I'll be good but thanks, Nurse.”
Nursey’s still focused on the coffee table, and Dex becomes curious as he stands back up. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I was just chillin’ with some of the art friends I made through Lardo,” Nursey responds. “But I’m actually on my way out.”
“Where you headed?”
“I’m gonna meet Andrew at his apartment,” Nursey says, and Dex controls his face very carefully. “Then we’re gonna go out somewhere.”
“Cool,” Dex grits, barely because his teeth are practically locked together. “Have fun.”
After Nursey leaves, Dex does some more staring at the table, but he eventually accepts that he’s probably not going to get any more work done before he brings it to the Haus tomorrow, so he wraps it up and puts it back in the carpentry storage.
When he returns to the Haus, he scrolls for a few minutes to see if he should do something since it’s one of their last days before finals get real. He’s probably on his laptop for five minutes before Nursey walks in.
“Hey,” Dex says. “You stopping here to get ready before you head out?”
“Uh, no I, uh. I don’t think that’s happening anymore tonight.”
Dex turns his head away from his laptop and regards Nursey carefully. “Did something happen?”
“Well, I went to his apartment and he wasn’t there.”
“Didn’t he tell you to meet him there?”
“Yeah, I guess. I guess he forgot or had something else going on.”
Dex comes to the realization that he should have said something a long time ago, but late is better than never, and he might actually strangle Andrew if this continues in their senior year.
“Okay,” Dex starts, readying himself for whatever argument this might create. “You need to break it off with this guy. He’s awful and a complete fucking flake.”
Nursey does look a bit surprised as Dex’s frankness, but he recovers quickly. “It’s complicated.”
“No it’s not,” Dex pushes, “And I’m not just gonna sit by and keep letting you date a complete douchebag.”
That must hit a nerve because Nursey’s face becomes angry, and his voice is harsh when he speaks. “Letting me?”
“Well, I just mean-”
“Poindexter, how is this your business at all? What does any of this have to do with you?”
“Nothing,” Dex admits, simply and truthfully. “You’re right that it’s not my business, but I’m not exactly having a great fucking time watching my best friend get treated like shit.”
Nursey looks up towards the ceiling as he takes a deep breath, and Dex can see the defensiveness recede. “The thing is, it’s more of a casual thing. He’s not like, my boyfriend or anything.”
“Boyfriend or not, this is a dick move.”
“It’s not that deep, dude,” Nursey says, firmly holding the mask of chill in place. “I’m just gonna kick it here.”
Dex stares at him for a moment and thinks that maybe he should leave Nursey alone, but his instincts tell him otherwise, and he needs to start listening to them more.
“No,” Dex decides aloud. “We’re going out.”
Nursey looks at him with a quirked eyebrow, waiting.
“We’re going to that bar you like with the poetry and stuff,” he continues. “The artsy one.”
Nursey takes a moment to figure out what Dex is talking about. “The Luna Lounge?”
“Right,” Dex confirms. “Just give me a minute to get ready.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I want to,” Dex cuts off, voice firm and unwavering. “Okay? I want to.”
Nursey looks at him from across the room with a newfound softness in his expression and Dex has to break eye contact, afraid that if Nursey keeps looking at him that way, he’ll confess all of his feelings. “Now, help me pick out a shirt that’s hipster-y enough for your stupid bar.”
Nursey scoffs and shakes his head. “Any one of your eight million flannels will do just fine, I’m sure.”
When they arrive at the bar, it’s somehow even more ridiculous than Dex thought it would be. It’s too dimly lit, and there’s no way every college student in here actually likes the jazz that’s playing, but Nursey seems to be in higher spirits. He orders them some beers and they start chatting, shooting the shit.
“Chowder tell you about how much he loves yoga now?”
“Oh my God,” Dex answers. “I know. The guy goes to one class with Farmer and now he’s obsessed.”
“You should go, Poindexter. If anyone needs their chakras aligned, it’s you.”
Dex finishes the sip of his beer and sets it back down before he responds. “I don’t know what the word chakra means and I’m willing to bet money you don’t really know either.”
Nursey laughs and takes a sip of his own beer before going into another subject, and Dex starts to struggle when the all too familiar pangs hit his chest, but it’s not his fault. The Luna Lounge is romantic.
“I’m not gonna lie,” Nursey starts, when they’re about halfway through their drinks. “I was never really into Star Wars like that, but I kind of fuck with these new ones.”
“What? The Force Awakens is what got you into Star Wars?”
“Chyeah,” Nursey shrugs.
“That’s a travesty,” Dex shakes his head. “These new ones are nothing compared to the original 70's trilogy.”
“Hmm,” Nursey hums, pensive. “Seems kind of sus to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you might want to think about why you hate the ones that finally have non-White leads.”
“I don’t hate them, I just don’t like them as much, and it’s not because of that.”
“I don’t know, Poindexter. There are some pretty unchill racial vibes coming off you right now.”
“Nursey, I know by now that if you really wanted to talk to me about a racist thought or behavior, this is not the way you would do it, so it’s evident that you’re just fucking with me.”
Nursey purses his lips like he doesn’t quite know what to say, looking down and starting to chuckle once he realizes Dex got him.
“It is kind of upsetting because you’re usually a lot better at trolling me but I’m not mad,” Dex says. “I’m just disappointed.”
Nursey loses it at that and starts cackling in full, laughing so hard he needs to lean on Dex for support, and Dex joins in. When Nursey looks back up, he glances down the bar and his laugh cuts off. Whatever he’s looking at is making him develop a dark, sad look on his face.
“I think that’s Andrew.”
Dex follows his gaze down the bar and watches as someone who is definitely Andrew kiss a guy who is decidedly not Nursey, and livid is a mild, tame understatement.
“You mean to tell me,” Dex starts, putting everything together. “This guy blew you off and stood you up only to show up to your favorite fucking bar, with someone else?”
Nursey blinks and looks down at his drink, and that’s what does it. The crestfallen, dejected look on Nursey’s face is what makes the volcano erupt in earnest. “I’m going over there.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nursey says, holding a hand up. “To do what?”
“I don’t know,” Dex admits, honestly not having thought that far ahead. “I’m gonna say something.”
“Say what?”
“I don’t know yet,” Dex repeats.
“Dex, I need you to chill.”
“Nursey-”
“There’s no need to make a scene. Let’s just leave.”
“Fine,” Dex agrees, as begrudgingly as he’s ever agreed to anything. He takes the time to calm himself down and does so mostly in silence, as they close out their tab and go outside.
They stand in front of the Luna Lounge and Dex knows Nursey’s not sure what to do next either. He looks around at the other Samwell students milling about and a thought comes to him. “Do you know what Chowder’s up to right now?”
“Let me text him,” Nursey says, pulling out his phone. Chowder must text back almost instantly, because it’s only a few moments until Nursey has an answer.
“They’re at the Marsh.”
Dex legitimately facepalms, dragging his hand down to his chin before he speaks. “Are you serious?”
Nursey nods, serious and somber. “I’m deadass, bro.”
Dex lets out a long, pained sigh as he and Nursey start walking. “Can’t believe we’re going to the fucking Marsh right now.”
“On some real shit, Poindexter,” Nursey says, pocketing his phone. “Don’t you feel like the Marsh is the actual worst bar in Massachusetts?”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that that’s true.”
“What is it with him and that place?”
“I have this theory that he loves it so much because it’s like the green Haus couch of bars.”
Nursey quite literally stops in his tracks, puts a hand on Dex’s shoulder, and looks at him in astonishment. “Yo.”
“Yeah.”
“Hold up. Now, wait just a damn minute.”
“I know.”
Nursey puts a hand on his chin and takes a few moments to look around and fully process the realization. “Poindexter, that’s literally exactly what it is.”
“Yup,” Dex nods. “Unfortunately for us.”
He and Nursey fall back into step and turn onto Jerry Street, now only about a block and a half away. “Well, we kinda had a good time last time.”
“Derek, getting really drunk on cheap beer and watching terrible karaoke is not my idea of a good time.”
“Word,” Nursey agrees. “I forgot about that karaoke.”
“I envy you.” Dex mutters, shaking his head. “Wish I could say the same.”
They arrive to the collection of health code violations and join Chowder and Farmer at the bar. Dex can at least admit that the pitchers are pretty cheap here, and it’s not actually a tetanus-infested sewer drain, it’s just fun to chirp Chowder like it is.
There’s a game on the big TV they have behind the bar and the four of them drink and talk and watch it. They hang out and enjoy themselves as they work through a second pitcher, and when Bar Trivia starts they get involved. None of them are very good but they’re enjoying themselves anyway.
Later on, other members of the SMH show up to the Marsh and join them, and when there’s a non-insignificant number of hockey players in a bar the likelihood of disaster significantly increases, so he’s preparing himself for whatever might happen. Nursey goes to the bathroom, but at some point Dex notices he’s been gone for a while.
He goes to the restroom to look for Nursey but he isn’t there and Dex looks around, trying to think of where else he could be. There’s a side exit to a little alley behind the bar, so Dex tries his luck.
When he opens the door, Nursey is standing with his back to him, looking out at the parking lot that the alley leads into. It’s a fairly dark alley and Nursey isn’t standing that close to him, so Dex can’t be sure of what he sees.
He can’t be sure that Nursey quickly wiped tears away before turning towards him. He can’t say for certain that he wasn’t just rubbing his eye or scratching his face.
“Hey,” Dex says.
“Sup,” Nursey nods, leaned against the wall, and Dex is stung by how badly he wants to get closer.
In that moment, there’s nothing he wants more than to be able to reach out and bring Nursey into his arms to fix it. In that moment, there’s no one he hates more than Andrew for being the one to break it.
“He’s the fucking worst.”
“Dex-”
“He is. He’s an asshole, and he pulled some bullshit tonight.”
“Yeah,” Nursey agrees, so quietly Dex can barely hear him. “You’re right.”
“Nurse-”
“You don’t have to, like. I don’t need, like a. Pep talk or anything,” Nursey says, setting his jaw and looking past Dex. “I just needed a minute but I’m coming back inside soon.”
“Okay,” Dex nods, understanding. “Okay, yeah.”
He turns to go back inside but something stops him, and he stays at the doorway.
“I just want to say, for what it’s worth.”
He’s probably about to be hugely obvious, but Nursey’s his best friend. He has to say something.
“You’re attractive, and funny, and creative, and intelligent and you should be with someone who can appreciate those things, and he’s a huge fucking moron for not seeing how lucky he is to date you.”
Nursey looks at him for a long time without saying anything, and it occurs to Dex that he should probably leave before he embarrasses himself any further.
“Anyway, that’s the last thing I’m gonna say about this. See you inside.”
Dex returns to the group and when Nursey joins them again, he seems to be in decent spirits, but he cuts his night short. “I’m gonna head out,” Nursey says to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “See you back at the crib.”
Dex bids Nursey goodbye as normally as he can, but he’s going over everything in his head, trying to figure out if there’s an actual weirdness that exists between them now or if it’s just imagined.
They stay for a little while longer and after Chowder leaves with Farmer, Dex goes back to the Haus. When he walks into their room, Nursey is knocked out, and Dex gets ready for bed as quietly as he can.
---
There is an undeniable strangeness that exists between them in the weeks that follow the night at the Marsh, but neither of them bring it up. Dex goes back and forth about saying something, but finals take up huge chunks of their time and make it so they see less of each other and don’t have as much time to talk anyway.
At some point in the busy and cluttered last weeks before summer, Nursey casually mentions that he and Andrew are no longer dating, and Dex reacts in a balanced, neutral way. Unfortunately for Dex, the break-up only worsens and exacerbates his yearning, but it’s good news.
Preparations for the graduation of the class of 2017 begin and Dex throws himself into everything he possibly can to distract himself from the fact that Bitty isn’t coming back next year. They throw a kegster of epic proportions to send the seniors off, and he’s pleased with how it goes.
He’s okay during the graduation ceremony, he’s okay when he’s helping Bitty pack up his truck, he’s okay when all the SMH lines up to say goodbye to Bitty and it’s his turn for a hug.
Chowder, Nursey and Dex go back upstairs to help Chowder move a few more things to the basement before he goes back to San Francisco, and to Dex’s surprise, Bitty pokes his head into the room.
“Dex, could you take a quick look at the truck? It’s making a weird noise.”
“Sure,” he responds, and follows Bitty down the stairs. He hops into the driver’s side and starts the car and the engine sounds fine, from what he can tell. When he gets out, he goes to the front of the car.
“The engine sounds good so far,” he says, before he goes to pop the hood.
“I know,” Bitty says, and Dex looks at him, confused. “I just didn’t want to embarrass you in front of Nursey and Chowder with my big sappy goodbye.”
There’s nothing left for Dex to do to distract himself and after weeks of being postponed and pushed away, the sadness is finally allowed to flourish. “Wow,” he says, as the emotion rushes in. “This is really it, huh?”
“Now, don’t make it sound like you’re at my funeral. Providence ain’t nothin’ but a skip away.”
“But it won’t be the same, and what about-”
What about the team? What about the Haus? What about my senior year, and how the hell am I going to do it without you?
He wants to yell and cry and throw a tantrum like a child because all the words he needs to say are too heavy and lumbering to pull out of his head. Unfortunately, his mouth has to make do. “What about the pies?”
Bitty lets out a surprised chuckle but Dex watches him understand and see right to the core of him, the way he always does. “I reckon you’ll make ‘em just as good as I ever did.”
Dex nods and looks down at his hands, wringing them a bit.
“I know you’re probably gonna chirp me for sounding like a mom,” Bitty continues. “But I’m just so proud of the person you’ve grown into. It’s just been amazing to watch.”
“Thank you,” Dex responds, starting to get overwhelmed.
“And I know that you think everything through a thousand times before you do it, and that’s a good thing. But I hope next year, you take some chances. I hope there are times where you just say ‘fuck it’,” Bitty chuckles. “And go for it.”
Dex snorts a bit at that but he cooperates. “We’ll see.”
“And I also just want to say, that. You’re so hardworking and disciplined so you deny yourself a lot, but you deserve to enjoy things. I just want you to remember, you deserve the things you want.”
“Thank you,” he answers, and it’s hugely overdue, so all of it starts coming up at once. “And, thanks for-”
For teaching me how to bake, not enough.
For being a better big brother than the one I have, too much.
For helping me be okay with myself, for helping me actually kind of like myself, for making the Haus a home. Way too cheesy, and unforgivably so.
“For everything,” he finishes, opening his arms up for another hug. “Thanks for everything, Bitty.”
“It was my pleasure,” Bitty says, pulling out of the hug and smiling up at him. “Best time I ever had.”
Bitty hugs him one more time, climbs into his truck, and drives to Providence.
---
After Chowder leaves in the afternoon, Nursey and Dex spend the evening packing up all their things and getting ready to leave the next day. The end of school means the Haus is quiet and so is campus, so they tool around for a bit before Nursey suggests something.
“You want to go back to the Luna Lounge tonight? It’s actually nice and we didn’t really get to enjoy it last time.”
“Sure,” Dex agrees, glad that the weirdness isn’t too much for them to hang out one on one.
They get to the bar and it’s a bit emptier than it was last time, but Dex is significantly less annoyed than he was before. Maybe it’s growing on me, he thinks.
Nursey gets them each a beer and leans a bit towards Dex, elbow up on the bar with his chin propped up on his hand. “Why have you never told me what the J is in William J. Poindexter?”
Dex takes a sip of his amber ale and decides to have a bit of fun. “Maybe I want you to guess.”
Nursey furrows his brow, purses his lips and looks off into the distance for a long moment. “Jedediah,” he finally says, and Dex’s face can surely be accurately described by nothing but a series of question marks.
“You’re Amish,” Nursey elaborates. “Distantly.”
“I am not Amish,” Dex scoffs. “Distantly or otherwise.”
“Right,” Nursey nods, confidently. “It’s Jasper, because your parents are obsessed with the antebellum South and they’re Civil War reenactors.”
“No to every literal single part of that.”
“I still feel like it’s country for some reason,” he continues. “Let’s go with Jarrett.”
Dex chuckles at Nursey’s disinterest in coming up with normal J names. “It is certainly not Jarrett.”
“I would love it if your parents just hit you with the wild ethnic middle name for no reason and it’s Julio or Jabari or something.”
Dex shakes his head as he puts his beer back down. “You know perfectly well it’s neither Julio nor Jabari so now you’re just talking to hear yourself talk.”
“Hang on,” Nursey says, holding a finger up. “This is it, forreal.”
Dex looks at him and waits.
“It’s that thing White People do where they take a regular name but spell it in some extra ass way for no reason,” Nursey explains. “It’s Jason but spelled J-a-y-c-e-n.”
“Wow,” he says, making sure to sound as shocked and awe-struck as possible. “You got it, Nurse.”
Nursey sets his beer down and turns his head over to Dex, sharp and focused. “Wait, really?”
“No, you clown,” Dex retorts, joining in when Nursey starts to laugh. “Also, I’m mad because you’re right about the White People naming thing.”
Nursey laughs even harder and picks his beer up, looking at Dex with a crinkly-eyed smile, and Dex has no idea how he’s going to survive another year of this. He shakes his head a little and chugs a bit of his drink before telling Nursey he’s heading to the bathroom.
When he comes back, he spots someone sitting in his seat and talking to Nursey. A flare up of jealousy occurs, but he tamps it down, reminding himself that Nursey isn’t his.
As he gets closer, he realizes that the person sitting down is Andrew, and when he’s back in front of his seat, Nursey looks upset.
Andrew looks over, realizing Dex is standing next to him. “So, Will is why you stopped answering my texts,” Andrew concludes, slurred and loud. “That’s what’s going on?”
“You need to chill,” Nursey says, “And you should probably leave.”
Dex is already annoyed that Andrew is harassing Nursey, and it gets worse when he watches Andrew reach over and get a grip on Nursey’s elbow. “Derek, come on.”
Dex counts to five before he speaks, but it doesn’t do much to help. “I’m gonna need you to let go of his arm.”
Andrew fully turns towards him, and Dex realizes he’s even more obnoxious when he’s hammered. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
The razor-thin tolerance he has for Andrew snaps into two, and what the simpleton in front of him doesn’t know is that he’s officially talking to d-man Dex, who has a massive amount of aggression, a comically short fuse, and absolutely nothing to lose. “Why don’t you do as I tell you before I do something stupid?”
“Dex,” Nursey says, looking back and forth between them. “Chill.”
Andrew is looking at him, incredulous and clearly appalled at the threat. “Are you serious right now, bro?”
“I don’t know, bro,” Dex emphasizes, and it feels so good to let the rage stretch out and warm up. “Do I look like I’m fucking kidding?”
“You’re not gonna do shit, dude,” Andrew says, and Dex can’t believe how much confidence he has. Dex just can’t wrap his head around how someone can be this smug and this cocky, and the more he thinks about it, the angrier he becomes. On some level, he thinks Nursey might be saying something, but he can barely hear anything over the roar of the fury.
“I’m not gonna do shit,” Dex repeats, making a show of cracking his neck and cracking his knuckles. “Okay, why don’t you try me and find out? Why don’t you fucking try me and see for yourself what the fuck happens next?”
He knows he’s out of control, but he’s turned all the way up and once he’s this ready to go, there’s nearly no coming back.
“Whatever,” Andrew jeers, removing his hand and standing up. “It’s not even worth all this trouble.”
Dex doesn’t like Andrew’s tone, but he’s leaving. He’s leaving, he reminds himself, and it all starts to come down to a more manageable level.
“I mean he’s hot but way too needy,” Andrew continues, and Dex is frozen but the flames flare up again, undoubtedly too strong now to be put out.
“Good with his mouth but a real basket case,” Andrew finishes, as reason and sense burn up into ashes that slip through Dex’s fingers, because. Because that’s just the last goddamn straw, isn’t it?
Dex blacks out, balls up his fist, and swings.
---
He wakes up to dull and throbbing pains in his jaw, his hands, and his head. He sighs as he puts a hand on his face, making sure to only gently touch the bandage on his chin. The room is empty, but as he gets down from his bed, the door opens and Nursey walks in.
He and Nursey wordlessly look at each other as Nursey leans against the wall, crosses his arms, and stares at him, visibly furious.
They barely spoke at all last night, through all of it: Nursey pulling him out of the bar, wrangling him into an Uber, patching up his cuts and getting him into bed. Most of that occurred in the same exact kind of heavy, suffocating silence that lives between them at the moment.
“Um,” Dex croaks, not knowing how to start. “Hey.”
Nursey licks his lips, swallows hard and takes a deep breath before he speaks. “Hey.”
“Um,” Dex repeats, because he can’t stand the silence but he doesn’t really have anything to say for himself.
“Um,” Nursey imitates. “What the fuck was last night all about?”
“I just,” Dex says, starting with at least part of the truth. “I just hate his fucking guts.”
“I get that,” Nursey responds, “But I had to beg the bartender not to call the police and we’re lucky Coach Hall probably won’t find out. Andrew is not worth that kind of trouble.”
Dex nods, realizing Nursey was smoothing things over when he went back inside as Dex waited on the street for the Uber. “You’re right,” he says, as the weight of Nursey’s words settle in. “You’re completely right.”
Nursey uncrosses his arms and walks over to where Dex is standing, bringing a hand up to move Dex’s neck and get a better look at the cut. “How’s your jaw,” he starts, examining the bandage. “How’s your hand?”
“They’ve both been better,” Dex admits, which elicits a half-chuckle, half-scoff from Nursey.
“Poindexter,” Nursey declares, shaking his head and taking his hand away. “What am I gonna do with you?”
Choose me, date me, fall for me, Dex thinks. All acceptable options.
“Well,” Nursey says, taking a look around the room. “I need to get my things together to leave soon.”
“Right,” Dex says, going over to his desk to where his phone is charging. He checks the time and sees he has a few hours left until he needs to leave, but he might as well double and triple check that he has all his things together. They both move quietly, busying themselves with their hands and tidying what they already tidied yesterday.
Dex is about to open his mouth to apologize and try to end the tension, but Nursey beats him to the punch. “Can I ask you something?”
He stops what he’s doing and leans back on his desk, facing Nursey and giving him his full attention. “Sure.”
“When, when- When we were,” Nursey stutters, choppy, like he’s having a hard time getting the words out. “When we were at the Marsh like a month ago and you said.”
The weirdness is finally being addressed, he thinks. He recalls what he said, and how he probably said it, and prays to God he’s ready for wherever this conversation goes.
“And you said," Nursey continues, slowly, with a deep breath. "That I’m attractive and creative and intelligent and funny, and that I should date someone who can appreciate me. Were you talking about you?”
Dex blinks hard and feels like he can barely breathe as Nursey waits, looking him straight in the eye. He starts to think of some kind of response that will save him from being exposed and salvage the situation, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s tired of lying, he’s sick of daydreaming, and he’s fed up with all the pretending.
Fuck it, a voice says. Go for it, it continues, even louder.
“Yeah,” he admits, as boldly as he’s ever done anything, not breaking eye contact for a single moment. “I mean, I was speaking generally but I was also talking about myself, yeah.”
Even when they were mortal enemies they never stared each other down as hard as this, Dex thinks, focusing on Nursey’s face and watching Nursey do the same. It’s so quiet in their room that theoretically, if it weren’t for the relentless beating in his chest, Dex could hear a pin drop. Nursey takes a single, excruciating step closer.
“It would have to be slow.”
For the moment, all of Dex’s capacities are being used to try to calm the pounding in his chest and he can’t fully focus yet on forming words, so he’s glad when Nursey continues.
“I just mean that I just got out of this thing with Andrew and it wasn’t really good for me, so I want to spend some time by myself.”
“I get that,” Dex says, thankful that his mouth can move despite the fact that his brain is melting because there’s a chance, because it’s not a no, because it’s just a not now.
“And I don’t know when I would be, like. Ready to start something.”
“That’s fine,” Dex assures, honestly. “We could just play it by ear and see how it goes.”
“Okay,” Nursey says, stepping an inch closer. They’re looking at each other and neither of them knows what to say, but Dex feels like he has to speak because it’s all too hazy and nebulous like if he blinks too hard, the entire conversation will disappear.
“Do you want to come to Maine this summer?”
Nursey is clearly caught off guard and Dex has even surprised himself, but he wants to put everything on the table.
“It doesn’t have to be anything,” he elaborates. “And it doesn’t have to, like. Mean anything or have any pressure, I’d just. I’d love to see you this summer, if you have the time. If you want.”
“Chill,” Nursey smiles. He takes another step and Dex cannot actually believe that this is legitimately happening to him.
He’s on high alert as months of anticipation get ready to culminate in a matter of seconds, and as Nursey brings himself another agonizing half-inch closer, goose bumps develop all over his arms. At this point, any attempt at getting his breathing under control is undeniably, certifiably futile.
Nursey’s phone buzzes and they both jump a bit at the suddenness. He pulls it out to look at the alert, and Dex tries not to be disappointed about the moment that’s evaporated.
“The Uber I scheduled is close by,” Nursey explains. “I should probably get downstairs.”
“Right.”
“Uh, um,” Nursey stammers, picking up his bags and starting to move. “I’ll talk to you soon?”
“For sure,” Dex answers, entirely too eager. “You should send me…pointless, waste of time Snapchats on the train.”
“My specialty,” he retorts.
“Do you want help with your bags?”
“I’m good,” Nursey nods, turning around to face Dex once he’s stopped at the door. “Thanks.”
“Alright, well. Bye, Nurse.”
Nursey half-grins and sends him a wave, right before opening the door with his free hand. “Bye, Poindexter.”
After the door closes, it becomes glaringly obvious that he might actually pass out if he doesn’t prioritize breathing normally again because oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. He runs a hand over his face and looks around the room, consumed by exhilaration but still submerged in disbelief.
The door opens again and Nursey comes back in without his bags. He probably forgot something, Dex thinks.
Nursey strides towards him, wraps his arms around Dex’s waist and kisses him, gentle, but intense. It’s frenzied and tender and Dex is dissolving. It’s perfect and Dex has dissolved.
“Okay,” Nursey whispers after they’ve pulled apart, his face an inch away from Dex’s. “Bye, forreal this time.”
“Bye,” Dex says again, as Nursey brings his arms back from around Dex, walks out the door, and heads back downstairs.