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It’s well into Dex’s third year before the topic comes up. He isn’t exactly sure how or why, but right now he’s amused. That might also be because he’s a little drunk, but whatever. It’s nearing the end of the kegster, and a couple people have gathered in the kitchen. Shitty and Holster are here, and for some reason, Tater and Snowy, who kind of adopted the SMH team. Or maybe they were adopted by SMH? Anyway, occasionally they turn up at Kegsters and games and - huh. They turn up quite a lot, actually.
Anyway, they’re all sitting at the kitchen table, Nursey, Chowder and Farmer, Holster, Shitty, Foxtrot, Tater and Snowy and Dex. Tango is around somewhere too. It all started with somebody saying:
“I bet Dex owns one of those old trucks.”
Dex was just about to say something about that - stereotypes, everyone? - but Shitty was faster.
“Brah. Stereotypes. Bet you it’s an old German car.”
It’s Farmer who gets out the money so Dex thinks she might be the one who started all this in the first place, but -
“Well, put your money where your mouth is. I’m putting -” she squints at the note in her hand. Dex is sure he hears Foxtrot whimpering. “10$ on the old truck.”
Shitty has to go looking for his pants - he’s down to his boxers - but once he finds them, he adds 10$ and says “Old German car.”
And suddenly it’s mayhem, everybody’s getting their wallets out.
“Fools. It’s obviously a new truck,” Holster says, being the one with quickest access to his wallet. There’s another hand trying to add some bills, when -
“STOP. If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it properly. Gimme one sec.” Foxtrot is scribbling something down. “Anyone who wants to enter may do so with 10$, okay? So, Farmer is putting her money on an old truck, Shitty says it’s an old German car, Holster says new truck… Alright, who’s next?”
“Me,” Dex says and everybody looks at him. “If nobody gets it right, I’m requesting the money to go towards the car.”
Foxtrot considers this. “Half the car, half the sin bin?” she offers, and Dex nods. They shake on it.
“You sounded awfully sure about this,” Nursey says. He really knows Dex much too well by now. Dex tries to look innocent. “But you did say it’s to go towards the car, so -” His eyes widen comically. “I’m getting in and I say it’s a small hybrid.”
Chowder is the next to add 10$ to the growing mix. “Convertible.” At the questioning looks, he shrugs. “Nursey’s right. Convertible sounds unlikely, but you sounded very sure about this.”
Tango enters the pot with a family sedan. Dex is faintly offended for some reason, but tries to keep it from showing on his face. Tater puts his money on a sports car. Snowy stays out of the whole thing, but doubles the money, “for proper stakes”, Foxtrot stays out of it for refereeing reasons. Dex takes a look at the list and bites his tongue in an effort not to point out that Shitty’s entry would cover all the other entries too, save those that specified “new”. It’s not like any of them are right.
Foxtrot counts the money out for everyone. $140, neatly stacked.
All eyes turn to Dex.
He takes a sip from his beer.
Nursey, like the impatient fucker he is, breaks first. “So?”
Dex gets his phone out and shows the others his background picture. Featuring him. With his car. How have these people been his friends for so long without knowing this?
“It’s a 1974 Ford Mustang fastback, with a 171 cu in Cologne V6 pulling 105 horsepower with four on the floor.”
In a movie, there’d be crickets chirping right now. They are, in Dex’s imagination. In reality, of course, the music from the living room is too loud and there are no crickets anywhere near the kitchen. He hopes.
Foxtrots sighs and counts out 70$. She’s offering the money to Dex, when Tater speaks up.
“Wait. Is Mustang not sports car? I should get money!”
“No, it’s a muscle car,” Foxtrott says and Dex points at her with one hand. With the other, he grabs his money.
“But what is difference? Is muscle car not sports car?” Tater asks and Dex has to admit that he has a point, what with muscle cars being advertised as sports cars. But no. He can’t let that stand. Also, $70 is $70. It’s not like Tater needs the money.
“It’s not a sports car,” Dex says. The others are looking from Tater to him and back, like following a tennis match. Shitty has his phone in his hand. Dex considers how to explain it for a moment. “Alright. See, a sports car is a small, lightweight two seater, usually. They’re designed for performance and nimble handling. They’re… they’re basically the Bittys of cars, yeah?”
Somebody laughs, but Tater nods. “So how about muscle cars?”
“Muscle cars are power cars, they have big block engines. They’re marketed as sports cars sometimes, but they’re really not. Think Holster of cars.”
“Hell yes”, Holster says and grins.
Tater nods. “Okay, I see point. So Mustang is muscle car and muscle car is not sports car.”
Dex thinks that’s it, but then Shitty speaks up. “Wikipedia says a Mustang is a pony car, not a muscle car, though.”
Dex makes a face at him. “Pony cars are the economical versions of a muscle car, Shitty. And either way, none of you were right, so it’s my money.”
///
“Dexyyyyy. Wake up. Come on. Dexyyyyy.”
Dex wakes up at once, Shitty leaning over him. So much for sleeping in after the kegster.
“We decided we want to see the car in person,” Shitty says. Dex blinks up at him. They want what now? Who’s “they” anyway?
“What?” His voice is hoarse. Not enough water last night. Rookie mistake, Poindexter, he thinks and slowly sits up. The world doesn’t spin, which he takes as a good sign. Nursey, who sits on the floor in front of the bed, reaches into the mini fridge and hands Dex a Gatorade. He unscrews the lid and blinks at the people in his and Nursey’s room: Shitty’s there, backed off a little now, in pants but without a shirt; Nursey of course; Holster sits by Dex’s feet; Tango leans against one side the door frame; and Chowder’s head sticks into the room on the other side of the door frame.
“The car. Your 1977 Mustang thingy. We want to see it in person,” Shitty repeats and Dex nearly spits out his Gatorade. He catches himself and instead closes his eyes for a moment. Good lord. The car thing. He sighs and opens his eyes.
“It’s a ‘74 Mustang fastback and if you guys think I’d bring a car like that to college, you’re very much mistaken.”
“We want to see it, though,” Tango says. “You could’ve told us anything about your car. We want proof.” Dex pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Nursey, give me my phone, will you?” With everyone’s eyes on him, he dials his sister’s number.
“Put it on speakerphone,” Chowder says and Dex shoots him a long-suffering look, but does so. The quiet of the room is only interrupted by the ringing of the line, until -
“It’s freaking 8 am on a Sunday, this better be serious,” his sister says in lieu of a greeting. Dex suppresses a smile.
“Well hello to you too, sis,” he says, and then: “You got me and a bunch of my noisy teammates-”
“And ex-teammates!” Holster interrupts. Dex glares at him.
“ -on speakerphone. They want to see my car.” The line is quiet for a second.
“Your car? What do they want to see your car for?” Shitty opens his mouth but Dex cuts him off before he can say anything.
“There might’ve been some betting last night, on the kind of car I’m driving. No one got it right, so I got half of the money and now they want to see the car.” His sister starts giggling.
“I can’t believe none of them knew about your car. You never stop talking about it! It’s either the car or hockey with you. Or-” she switches to Norwegian. “Gutten du liker.”
Dex sighs. “Vicky, nej. Han er i rommet.” Victoria laughs and Dex barrels on, ignoring the confused faces of basically everyone in the room, minus Nursey. And Holster, who’s looking at him with this super intense face. Uh-oh. “You up for a road trip sometime? You could bring the car and watch a game.”
“Visiting my dearest brother? Always! When’s the next time you guys are playing at home?”
///
After being woken up by his (ex-) teammates, calling his sister, and explaining why he speaks Norwegian, Dex decides he might as well get up. There’s no way he’ll be able to get back to sleep now anyway. Everybody else scattered to god knows where, so Dex takes his time getting dressed - T-Shirt and sweatpants have to be enough - and shuffling downstairs. He’s hoping there’s coffee in the kitchen, but Bitty spent the weekend at Jack’s, which means the breakfast options are lacking. Whiskey and he picked up some of the slack, but nothing reaches the quality of Bitty’s breakfasts. He misses them. However, he only makes it to the foot of the stairs when he’s ambushed by Holster - how is a guy of Holster’s size even able to ambush anyone? Maybe it’s because Dex isn’t all that awake yet, but Holster manages to turn up out of nowhere, throwing an arm around Dex’s shoulders. So much for ignoring the situation and hoping it would go away.
“Breakfast in the dining hall?” Holster asks. Dex looks up at him and sighs.
“Do I have a choice?” he asks, already giving in mentally. Holster grins, his eyes literally twinkling. Although on second thought that might also be his glasses reflecting the light.
“Sure you do,” he says, but he’s still steering Dex towards the door. Dex just goes with it.
To his credit, Holster waits until they’ve started eating before bringing up the topic . Well, Dex has started eating, Holster only took a sip of his coffee and is now looking at Dex, chin in both hands.
“So, you want to tell me about this guy you like?” he asks and Dex looks down on his plate. He feels his cheeks and ears go hot. Holster’s hand appears in his line of sight and settles on his wrist after a second of just hovering over it.
“You don’t have to,” Holster says and even without seeing his face, Dex knows, with absolute certainty, that he means it. He takes a deep breath and looks up, but he’s not quite sure where to begin, so instead he asks: “Where’d you learn Norwegian anyway?”
Holster grins and launches into an explanation.
“Online classes, baby. Ransom and I started a bet in our first year about who’s better at learning languages? We didn’t quite think it through, but the idea was that we’d both choose a random language and learn it as best we could during college. To determine which language to learn, we threw a dart at a world map. Well, we started with the world map, but there was so much water? And then Ransom finally put a dart in landmass, but it was Ivory Coast and like. Their official language is French, but Ransom speaks enough French that we both felt it’d give him an advantage and we couldn’t find resources on other languages spoken there, so we switched to a European map. Which, looking back, kinda is wimping out because it’d have been much more interesting to choose less well known languages? Anyway, I learned Norwegian and Ransom learned German. Then we finished college and didn’t quite know how to find out who learned his language better? We’re planning to finally settle the bet when we’ll be going over to Europe for our first We-Earn-Big-Money-Holy-Fuck-Holidays. The one who gets by better wins.”
Dex grins at Holster. “This is so you and Ransom, though,” he says, before he gets serious again.
“It’s just -” he pokes his omelette with his fork, not looking up. “I don’t know - I’ve been an ass when I first came here. For a couple of reasons, but - You know, I’ve been out to a couple people at home for a while now, but it was never something I felt comfortable putting out there? And I mean - I didn’t come here by accident, but - I don’t even really know how to put this into words -” He breaks off, frustrated by himself. Holster puts his hand back on Dex wrist. The omelette looks more like scrambled eggs now. “I’ve been trying to better myself, you know? But I don’t know if it’s enough and I - I don’t want to fuck this up.” Holster pets his wrist and Dex looks up at him. Holster looks very serious.
“I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable enough around us to be yourself,” Holster says and takes Dex’s hand. “But I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to talk to me now.” Dex smiles, more towards his hands than Holster’s face, but whatever. He links his fingers with Holster’s.
“You know, I had to unlearn stuff too,” Holster continues. “All of us had to. Remember how Shitty tried to explain pho to Lardo? You’re good, Dex, you’re really good, okay?” Dex nods and holds onto Holster’s hand. It’s nice to hear that.
“So.” Holster waggles his eyebrows. “Hvem er gutten du liker?”
Dex is sure he’s looking a tad sheepish right now. “It’s… maybe… Nursey?”
Holster starts laughing.
///
Dex isn’t 100% certain how it happened, but suddenly he’s roped into a group chat with Ransom and Holster and they want to know everything and - he tells them. He’s been chatting with the two of them nearly constantly all week, and it’s kind of amazing.
They’re on their way to Harvard for their first game of the season against them, when Ransom sends a message that makes Dex freeze up. He opens the message - a picture - thinking nothing much of it, takes one look and then can do nothing more but stare at it. He feels the heat slowly climbing up his cheeks, up into his ears and he knows his eyes are wide, he stopped talking in the middle of a sentence but holy shit. It’s a very, very beautiful picture of Holster. (Dex is completely crushing on Nursey, not blind, okay?) The picture shows only his head and half of his upper body, navy tank top complimenting his broad shoulders, head thrown back in laughter, showing off his neck and beard - the glorious beard he kept after they graduated. The message with the picture is “This enough 2 make you stop thinking about him ^^?” and hell yes, for a hot second it is. Dex isn’t sure how it couldn’t. But while Holster is objectively Hot, he’s not Nursey.
“Yo Dex, you listening to us?”
“Huh?” Dex looks up, into the faces of Chowder and Nursey. “Yes, yes, I’m listening.”
Nursey lifts one eyebrow. “Sure you are, buddy. What did your girlfriend send you that you short circuit like that?”
“My… girlfriend?” Dex asks.
“Dude.” Chowder says at the same time as Nursey says: “Come on, you’ve been glued to your phone all week, don’t front!” Dex feels his cheeks go even redder.
“Uhm.” he says. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m chatting with Ransom and Holster?”
“Ransom and Holster?” Nursey does not sound like he believes him. Chowder however, thinks of something else.
“I thought I knew what made you do that face when I thought it was a girl writing you, but what did Ransom and Holster send you?” Dex looks at the picture and the accompanying message, then at Chowder and Nursey, thinking, biting his lip. He turns his phone around so they can see.
“This enough to make you stop thinking about him?” Nursey reads out loud and Dex can feel his cheeks go even warmer. He did not think that through all the way. Chowder looks from the screen of the phone to Dex, then back at the phone. Then back at Dex.
“I, uh, am gay?” Dex says and feels very awkward. Nursey just kind of stares at him, Chowder opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again, without actually saying anything. Tango turns around from where he’s sitting in front of Chowder and Dex and offers his fist. Dex tentatively bumps it with his own.
“Cool, bro. Thanks for trusting us with that,” Tango says (was he always sitting there?) and turns back around, which is the moment Chowder chooses to launch himself into Dex’s lap, hugging him tightly. It’s a little awkward sitting in the bus seat with Chowder all over him, but Dex hugs back as well as he can. Which is to say with only his left arm, because his right arm is squished between his body and the back of the seat. As if to make up for the lack of words a minute ago, Chowder is now talking about a mile a minute into Dex’s neck. Dex catches what he thinks means “I’m so proud” and “thank you for trusting us”, before he gives up, awkwardly pats Chowder on the back and catches Nursey’s eyes.
“You know we’re cool with that, right?” Nursey asks and Dex nods. Chowder is still clinging and talking. It’s kinda nice, Dex decides.
“You want to tell us about him ?” Nursey manages to make it very clear he’s not talking about Holster with just the inflection of the “him” and Dex is suddenly even more glad about Chowder still clinging to him, because it means Nursey can’t see him go stiff all of a sudden.
“Uh,” he says. “Not right now?” Nursey nods and keeps his gaze on Dex, who thinks that his cheeks might by now be hot enough to set fire to a close enough piece of paper. I really didn’t think that all the way through , he thinks and hopes that maybe Nursey and Chowder won’t needle him too much about his crush.
///
Dex blinks up at Nursey.
“What?” he says and is reminded of the Sunday after the kegster. At least this time it’s only Nursey who leans over him.
“Your crush,” Nursey repeats. “You never said anything about a crush, like, at all.” Dex groans and pulls his pillow over his head. Nursey pulls it down a bit and looks seriously at Dex. “I might be overthinking this, but like. It’s a serious crush, no? And you never said anything about being interested in anyone at all.”
Dex continues to blink up at Nursey, trying to concentrate on what Nursey is saying rather than how close he sits, or how his weight is dipping the mattress down close by Dex’s hip, or his eyes. Dex very much does not think about how easy it would be to lean up and kiss Nursey.
“You’re not saying anything,” Nursey frowns. “Why are you not saying anything?”
“Nurse, what the fuck. It’s like, way too early and you woke me up to ask me about my crush,” Dex finally manages. “The hell am I supposed to say?”
Nursey opens his mouth, but doesn’t actually say anything. He looks a bit sheepish. And tired, Dex notices. He sighs and rolls over to make space on his mattress. The sigh turns into a groan, when all his muscles protest the movement. Last night’s game was a hard one and he can feel it in his whole fucking body.
“Come here, Nursey,” he says and pats the mattress, and then, when Nursey’s lying next to him, “What’s going on?”
Nursey buries his face in Dex pillow.
“It’s stupid,” he says. Dex can barely understand him, because he’s talking more to the pillow than Dex.
“Hey, come on, your feelings aren’t stupid,” Dex says. “Your feelings are always valid.”
Nursey turns his head and looks at him. “Did you get into Shitty’s binders again?”
“Did not,” Dex says and shoves at Nursey, but he grins. Nursey smiles back. “So, you want to tell me what’s up?”
Nursey burrows deeper into the pillow again. “It’s just… This is gonna sound awful, but… I’m kinda jealous you talked to Holster and Ransom first about, y’know, your crush and all that? I just…” He trails off, or maybe gets so quiet that Dex doesn’t hear him anymore through his pillow.
Dex scoots even closer and wraps Nursey in both his blanket and his arms. “Dude, you know you and Chowder are my best friends. Like, ever. I’m just strange about coming out to people, okay?” After a second, Dex feels Nursey nod. “Alright. So, can we nap a little, now?”
When Dex wakes up for the second time that day, he’s toasty warm and completely fucked: Nursey is snuggled to his side, arm thrown over Dex waist, one leg tangled with Dex’s and his head on Dex’s shoulder. He looks very soft and Dex can smell his fruity shampoo. Fuck.
Somehow, he makes it through the rest of the morning with Nursey without blurting out anything stupid, like “You are so beautiful when you just wake up.” , “My bigass crush is you . ” or “ I think I’m in love with you.” because apparently everything that’s been going on has his feelings dragged right up to the surface. They get breakfast at the dining hall together, but after that they split up - Nursey going to the library, Dex back to the Haus to do some homework with Chowder.
“Chowder?” He opens the door to Chowder’s room after just a cursory knock and looks in. “Can I talk to you?” Chowder looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, reading something.
“Sure, come on in,” he says, and Dex does, after taking of his shoes, leaving them outside the door.
“What’s up?” Chowder asks and sits up as Dex sits down next to him.
“I, uh,” Dex says. “The crush I got?” He doesn’t quite know how to go on, but Chowder interrupts him before he has a chance to decide what to say.
“It’s Nursey?” he asks.
Dex sighs. “It’s totally Nursey and I am so fucked.” Chowder pets his shoulder.
///
He decides it’s kinda nice to be out to people. It’s not earth shatteringly different, but it’s nice not to think about what he says to his teammates. Even better is that there’s people who know about his crush now. So his feelings might have high tide right now thanks to the events of the weekend, but whatever, at least now he can text Holster and Ransom or rant at Chowder. People (and with people he means Chowder, Nursey and Tango, once) bring up his crush once or twice during the week, but he makes it through okay.
Which is when his sister comes to visit, with the car, shaking things up. Again. The plan is for her to drive down Friday, arriving in the evening, watch the game on Saturday against Harvard and then drive back Sunday midday or so. She gets to meet Nursey, which will either stop the chirping or drive it up to new heights (Dex suspects the latter), and the rest of the team, including Shitty, Ransom and Holster who plan to come by Saturday for the game and to see the car - Snowy and Tater have a game of their own, for once. It feels a bit like a showdown, but Dex is definitely not thinking about that. It’s a good plan, which, of course, is why it all falls to pieces on Friday afternoon.
Dex has class until mid-afternoon, which should have given him at least an hour or two before his sister’s arrival, but of course she drives like the devil, which he kinda forgot about (better for his heart anyway, not thinking about his sister, his car, and high speed combined). So when he comes back to the Haus, a little later than usual because the professor had to finish her lecture no matter what, he is absolutely not prepared to see his car parked in front of it, let alone see Nursey leaning against it. His heart skips a beat, just to pick up again at twice the pace.
Nursey looks absolutely fantastic leaning against the car. Dex has to admit that he’s kinda checking out the car too - it’s been a while since he was home and he trusts his sister, okay, but his car is his baby. His sister better has taken care of it. But from what he can see, it looks good, the paint its usual undefined color between dark grey and dark blue, looking very blue right now, the white racing stripes only accenting the hard to place color. It also looks like she took it through a car wash before getting here, which he’ll have to thank her for. Can’t have his baby look dirty when everybody wants to see her.
Nursey watches him with a smile while Dex takes in his car.
“Don’t trust your sister?” he asks and Dex grins at him.
“I really do. But this is my baby. I took her apart and then put her back together, piece by piece. You bet your ass I’m double checking how she’s doing.”
Nursey looks at him with a face full of wonder. “How did we never notice how much of a car person you are?” he asks. “Like, seriously.”
Dex shrugs and rubs at a mostly imaginary spot above the driver window. “Beats me, dude, I have her as my wallpaper basically on every device.”
Nursey looks like he’s about to say something, but they’re interrupted by Vicky coming out of the house and throwing herself into Dex’s arms. Dex takes a half step back, but he expected this.
“Missed you too, sis,” he says and Vicky doesn’t even chirp him for it, only hugs him tighter for a bit.
When she lets go of him again, she turns around to Nursey, who’s looking rather curious. Vicky is a sight to behold, no question, only a little shorter than Dex, her hair as red and nearly as short as his own. They have the same nose and eyes too, but Vicky didn’t get the ears, which, unfair much? Today she’s wearing jeans overalls and a flannel that Dex thinks was his at one point, sleeves rolled up above the elbows - in short, she looks every bit the farm lesbian that she is. Nursey, however, doesn’t seem to get the hint, if the spark of interest in his eyes is anything to go by. And Dex knows that spark, has seen it regularly during Kegsters before Nursey declared interest and went to pick up. Dex scrunches up his nose and decides to stop thinking along those lines, because one, that’s his sister and two, if he doesn’t he’ll get jealous that Nursey apparently is interested in his twin sister, but not him and that’s not good.
“Hi Nursey,” Vicky says and laughs when Nursey splutters a bit, before recovering.
“Hi Vicky,” Nursey answers and sticks out his tongue. Vicky laughs harder, Nursey joining her and Dex feels his heart drop to his feet. Oh no. They like each other. As Vicky pulls Nursey towards the Haus, he gets out his phone and texts Ransom and Holster. They better show some sympathy.
***
Like always before a game day, they have team dinner, Vicky joining them. Unsurprisingly, she gets along well with the team and they seem to like her too, especially after she absolutely wipes the floor with Stenny, who somehow assumed that her being a woman meant she had no idea about hockey. Dex started snickering into his food the second he caught onto that, because his sister is both vicious and super informed about hockey. Not only does she follow Dex’s games, the Bruins and Boston Pride, but she also played hockey herself for a long while, until horses took her life over completely.
Stenny learns that the hard way, looking like he’s been steamrolled once Vicky is finished with him. Then Chowder leans over and asks about the horses she mentioned and she tells them about her work on the Heritage Farm - they mainly have horses, offer trail riding and riding lessons, but they also own some cattle and are very nearly self sufficient. In the summer, the farm is a very popular tourist destination.
“Hey, so, Dex,” Nursey starts and Dex knows exactly what’s coming. “Do you know how to ride?” He says it like he’s completely serious, but he’s waggling his eyebrows where Vicky can’t see. Dex makes a face at him, but answers anyway.
“I’m getting by,” he says. “Isn’t my favourite activity and I don’t think I’ll ever be good at it, but I know the basics, yes.”
“Dex much prefers his horses to be metal and oil,” Vicky chimes in and Dex rolls his eyes at her.
“As if you don’t appreciate those either, Ms. Fix-it,” he says.
“Yeah, but I never took my car apart into its smallest components,” Vicky retaliates, and it’s so easy to fall back into the old bickering.
They’re interrupted by Nursey asking if that means that Vicky can repair cars too and dinner proceeds in much the same way - jumping from one topic to another, Vicky, as the new one, often the focus. Dex watches more than contributing and thus doesn’t miss how well Vicky and Nursey get along or how Nursey looks at her. God damn it, but he is a little jealous that Nursey looks at Vicky that way, not at Dex.
He complains a bit more about it in his texts to Ransom and Holster.
After dinner, the team goes their separate way and Dex, Vicky and Nursey end up watching Finding Dory - huddled together on Dex’s bunk, Nursey on one side, Vicky on the other, laptop in his lap. It’s warm and cuddly and even though it’s not the most comfortable thing ever, Dex thinks he could get used to it.
After the movie, they blink at each other sleepily and decide to go to bed. The second they decide that, Vicky jumps up and towards the bathroom.
“My turn first!” she calls and closes the door behind her. Nursey is staring after her, still leaning against Dex.
“Dude, your sister is amazing,” he says, sounding awed.
“She’s also super gay,” Dex says and takes out his phone. Chowder shot them a message in the frogchat, asking about breakfast.
“What the fuck,” Nursey says. Dex looks up from where he’s answering Chowder.
“Dude, I’ve seen how you look at her,” he says and turns back to his phone. Only two new messages from Ransom and Holster, which is weird, until he opens the message.
Holy shit.
“Yeah, but,” Nursey starts and then stops himself again. “Dude, you just turned instantly red. Ransom send you a nude of Holster or what?”
Dex doesn’t even hear him, not really. His brain is very much offline.
“Dex?” Nursey asks and grabs his phone before Dex can react. He’s quiet for a long while.
“What about your crush?” he asks, finally. Dex looks up.
“I’m fairly certain my crush doesn’t reciprocate my feelings,” he says, unable to read Nursey’s face. Whatever. “I’m not even sure he’s interested in guys at all. Also, have you seen Ransom and Holster? And remember the energy they had on the ice together...” Dex trails off.
Nursey shrugs. “Point.”
Dex takes his phone back and looks at the messages again.
We know you’re like, totally hung up, but if you play a good game tomorrow, we’d be totally down rewarding you, if you know what we mean
You know we wouldn’t joke about this, right?
***
Saturday before the game feels like no time at all - partly because it’s an afternoon game and partly because Dex can’t get the messages out of his head. It doesn’t help that Ransom and Holster (and Shitty) show up early to take a look at his car - they all mill around the car for five minutes, ask some questions and then go back into the Haus. Dex doesn’t quite understand the sense of it, but they seem satisfied - and help set up the Kegster that is planned for after the game. Everytime Dex looks at either Ransom or Holster, they’re looking back and his brain supplies him with new pictures, of Holster on his knees before him, Ransom’s hand on his dick, Holster’s hand in his hair... Dex tries to keep out of their way.
He’s not very successful.
Ransom and Holster just look slightly amused.
Nursey is basically glued to Vicky until she drops them off at Faber, talking about one thing or the other, with or without Dex. Mostly without Dex though. And suddenly, while getting dressed, Nursey next to him chattering about the book he discussed with Vicky, Dex comes to a decision. He writes a message, then puts his phone away, concentrating on the game ahead.
***
Holy shit.
7 - 0. One of the goals was Dex’s, on another he got the assist. And - what the fuck just happened.
“You should take Ransom and Holster up on their offer,” Nursey says, next to him. Dex stares at him, halfway out his pads.
“What?” he manages.
Nursey shrugs nonchalantly and keeps stripping.
“Your crush is apparently unobtainable, and you’re right about them, you know. Also, you really deserve it. I’ll keep Vicky busy, if you wanna.”
“I…” Dex hesitates a moment. “Thank you, I appreciate it. But also, Vicky is very much self-sufficient and would not like the implications of what you just said.” Nursey only sticks his tongue out it response.
They don’t talk much afterwards, and when they leave the dressing room, Vicky basically bounces onto them - Dex reflexively lets his bag fall when he sees her coming out of the corner of his eye, catching her.
“Well done, Will!” she hugs him fiercely and he swings her around, laughing, before setting her down again. But instead of letting go like he expected, she tightens her arms around his neck and speaks into his ear, voice low.
“Ransom and Holster said they’ll properly celebrate that goal with you. They didn’t just mean tub juice and such, did they?”
Dex shakes his head and Vicky looks at him, serious.
“You sure about this?”
Dex nods and Vicky pats his cheek, says “Be safe, bro” and is bouncing off towards where Nursey, Ransom and Holster are waiting before Dex recovers. He picks up his bag and follows her more slowly.
“You sure?” is how Holster greets him and coming someone else he’d be irritated, but Dex doesn’t actually mind.
“Yeah,” he says and suddenly his head is filled with all the possibilities again, his ears and cheeks turning hot. He barely notices Nursey and Vicky taking off, but in his defense, Ransom just took his bag and used the opportunity to cop a feel. Holster throws an arm around Dex’s waists and steers him over to the parking lot and suddenly Dex finds himself in the backseat with Holster next to him, Holster’s hand high on his thigh and Holster starts talking.
He never stops talking until they’re up in the hotel room the two of them got and Dex thinks that they were either hopeful and optimistic or incredibly certain that Dex would say yes. He’s not quite sure which option he’d like to be true.
Holster pushes Dex towards the bed and sits down next to him, talking again - he’d stopped doing so on their way up to the room. He starts off by complimenting Dex’s game, telling him how much he and Ransom liked playing with him - Dex looks up at Ransom who looks back and nods, a slight smile on his lips - and manages to get an ambitious, not awful pun about stick handling in there, but Dex doesn’t really have time to appreciate it, because Holster scoots closer, close enough that Dex can feel his breath ghost over his face, lets his hand wander a little higher and says -
“Do you even know how elegant you look on the ice? How beautiful? Ransom and I didn’t get the idea for this only yesterday, you know.”
Dex inhales sharply and turns his head to finally look at Holster and Holster is right there and it takes absolutely nothing for Dex to lean in and finally, finally kiss Holster, who kisses back without hesitation, hard and hungry, one hand coming up to cup Dex’s face and Dex gets lost in the kiss a little, Holster’s beard scratching against his face, Holster’s hair just long enough that Dex can tug on it - Holster gasps when he does that.
“Sorry, I didn’t -” Dex scrambles to say, but Holster interrupts him, cheeks pink.
“No, no, that’s… That’s okay, tugging is okay,” he says.
So of course, Dex does it again and Holster sighs, his eyes fluttering shut, head tipping back, baring his throat and who is Dex to resist that, really? He’s kissing and nipping his way along Holster’s throat, his hand still in Holster’s hair, his teeth leaving faint marks that almost immediately are gone again, when Ransom speaks up.
“You can mark him up,” he says and Dex looks up at him from where he ended up in Holster’s lap. Somehow, he completely forgot about Ransom, who is leaning against the headboard, watching them. Dex has to swallow, because while he had never thought about it before, knowing that Ransom was just watching them is kind of hot. And following his suggestion…
“Really?” he asks Holster, who gives a little nod, eyes still half closed.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“While you’re already detached from Holster a bit, why don’t the two of you lose some clothing as well?” Ransom interjects before Dex can actually go ahead and Dex looks up again at him, then back at Holster, who’s grinning at Ransom.
“Do you actually plan on joining us sometime or will you just indulge your director’s kink over there?” Holster asks and Ransom shrugs.
“Didn’t have any definite plans, actually,” he answers and both of them turn to look at Dex.
“Any preferences?” Holster asks and Dex can only shake his head.
“I’m good with either, really,” he says, “So why don’t we indulge Ransom a little?”
***
They don’t actually make it to the Kegster. After the game and round one, Dex is completely done for and needs a nap, and Ransom and Holster think napping is an amazing idea. When they wake up again, it’s not too late yet for the Kegster, but Holster presses two fingers into the mark that Dex left earlier on his neck with this look on his face that both Ransom and Dex catch and, well. At least they make it to brunch.
***
The team doesn’t stop talking about Vicky the whole week and while Dex doesn’t actually mind most of the comments, he does get a little tired of it and the longer the week goes on, the more crude comments he catches and the worse his mood gets.
They spend the whole morning on the bus, his code doesn’t work the way it should, Nursey and Vicky have teamed up on him about a book he apparently needs to read and he didn’t sleep very well last night, so when Stenny quips about Dex really being the soft Poindexter sibling after their late lunch, Dex just can’t anymore.
“So what about it, Stenny, huh? You got something to say about that? I may be the soft Poindexter sibling, but that doesn’t mean I’m really soft,” he snaps and Stenny basically flees towards the rooms.
“Poindexter,” Coach Hall warns and holds out a keycard. “If you share a room with Nursey, are we going to find one of you dead tomorrow?”
Dex shakes his head no and grabs the keycard. “Sorry, Coach.”
Dex only stays long enough in their room to drop his bags and grab his wallet, then he’s out the door again, trying to get his temper under control with a walk. He knows he’s got a temper, he doesn’t actually need to fuel it.
He’s setting a quick pace through the unfamiliar streets of Princeton, which admittedly isn’t as bad as it could be. He also doesn’t have too much time - their game is late, so they travelled the same day, which is a pain and a half, but still better than the other options, in Dex’s opinion. Arriving the day before and travelling back directly after the game would be okay too, but the day before the game was Friday and he’s rather not miss more of his classes than he already does. But it also means that right now, he only has an hour or so before they need to leave for the arena, which isn’t a lot of time to calm down about issues that have been stacking up the whole week.
He’s on his way back, when he walks past a little yarn shop and stops dead in his tracks. Yarn. Knitting. Now there’s an idea. He hasn’t been knitting much lately, but he always liked it. It gave him and his fingers something to do when he couldn’t or shouldn’t do something more active. Of course, he doesn’t have anything with him, but he ducks into the shop anyway.
Almost the first thing that catches his eyes is a basket full of discounted yarn, which feels amazingly soft under his fingers. Most of the skeins left are a soft pastel pink, but his youngest cousin - who somehow skipped the ginger genes - just turned two and would probably love the color. Fuck it, he decides, and buys two skeins and a pair of needles. It’ll give him something to do, might calm him down and will make his cousin happy. Also, he kind of really likes the color.
Of course, then he gets a little lost, and by the time he gets back to the hotel, most of the others are already at the bus, including Nursey, who brought Dex’s bag.
They’re quieter than usual before a game, but it’s a friendly quiet, and Dex is much calmer than earlier, which is for the best, he guesses. If he’s lacing up his skates with more force than necessary because somebody makes a raunchy comment about redheads, nobody needs to know.
Then they step on the ice, and all of Dex’s patience is being tested. More often than not, when he and Nursey are on the ice, so is #22 of Princeton, a big guy with a crooked nose, who’s missing both a tooth and the ability to differentiate between chirping and hate speech, apparently.
Dex makes it through the first period okay-ish. He’s gritting his teeth basically the whole time and his hits are a little harder than absolutely necessary, but he makes it. Until five minutes into the second period and #22 says to him: “I bet the black guy likes to take it up the ass, all sub-”
Dex rams him into the boards before he can finish the sentence, dropping his gloves and helmet at basically the same time. #22 gets with the program quick enough, but the first hit is still Dex’s, a satisfying crunch when he hits the nose.
***
“FUCK YOU, POINDEXTER, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, FUCKING STARTING A FIGHT?!”
Dex barely looks up from his knitting when Nursey stalks into the dressing room after the second period, careful not carry the yarn along his busted knuckles.
“You knew damn well that with you ejected, I won’t leave the bench for the rest of the game! What the hell is going on with you today?”
Dex shrugs. “Sorry. I’ve been on edge all day and then the dude was both homophobic and racist, and just…” he trails off when Coach Murray catches his eye.
“We’re going to talk about that one, Poindexter,” Murray says and Dex nods.
“Yes, sir,” he says. Nursey next to him is quiet.
***
When Dex comes back to their room after his rather unfun talk with the Coaches, Nursey is sitting on the bed, playing with the yarn - Dex had left his knitting. He looks up when Dex closes the door.
“What did he say?” Nursey asks.
“Coach?” Dex asks, confused. It’s not as if their coaches have a lot of variation in what they said to ejected players.
“No, number 22. What did he say?” Nursey asks again.
“Oh.” Dex isn’t quite sure what to say, if he should really repeat what the dude had said.
“Come on, spit it out, Poindexter.”
Dex takes a deep breath. “He said he’d bet that you like to “take it up the ass” and be “submissive” for me,” he says, making air quotes with his fingers. Nursey nods slowly.
“You should ice those knuckles, not knit,” he says and gets up. “I’ll go see if I can get some for you.” Before Dex can react, Nursey is gone.
He’s gone for a long while. And he was right, Dex probably shouldn’t knit with his busted knuckles and if he’s being totally honest, it kind of hurts, but knitting is soothing, so he does it anyway.
Nursey makes an exasperated noise when he finally makes it back to their room. “This is what “no knitting” looks like to you, Poindexter? But seriously man, you should put that away and ice your knuckles.” He holds out an ice pack. “Foxtrott helped me get one, it was a whole thing. So you should really use it.”
Dex puts his knitting away and takes the ice pack from Nursey. “Thanks man,” he says, wincing a little when he puts the pack on his hand, the soft cloth that someone (Nursey maybe?) put around it actually painful on his busted skin.
Nursey sits down right next to Dex and picks up the knitting, his fingertips following the rows and stitches, his shoulder bumping into Dex’s. He clears his throat.
“So, uh. You know how Holly was close to you and that dude before you dropped gloves? And like, after I went off on you, he told me what that guy had said, in like, broad terms. He was all like “Dex totally defended your honor” and what not. Which… I guess is why I was asking about it earlier, to find out if that’s, like, what happened.” He breaks off and makes a face. Dex can only stare at him. Nursey seems to have prepared what he wants to say. “Like, I kinda needed to know that it wasn’t just your temper? Which sounds awful when I put it like that, sorry.”
Dex wants to tell him that he doesn’t need to apologise, he does have a point there, but Nursey cuts him off before he can say anything: “Can I like, say what I need to say first? I need to get this all out, I think.” He barely waits for Dex to nod before going on. “So, uh. Holly did tell me about the part where the dude said I probably like to be fucked, which, by the way, I do. Occasionally. Anyway, Holly didn’t say anything about the dude insinuating that you were the one doing the fucking, but… You did.”
Dex freezes and thinks back. #22 had indeed only talked about Nursey. And he… hadn’t. Shit.
“I…” he tries, but Nursey cuts him off again.
“No, I’m not finished yet. Just… Give me a second to make sure I don’t say this wrong?” Nursey requests and Dex nods. Nursey takes a deep breath.
“What I think happened is that you misheard the dude. Or maybe Holly did. Anyway, somehow some wires got crossed, but it doesn’t mean anything, right? It’s just, my brain kinda hung itself up on the fact that you, y’know, said what you did and-”
Dex puts his hand on Nursey’s. It’s an awkward move, because it’s the hand he’s got the ice on, which obviously he needs to hold in place, so technically he’s probably putting both his hands on Nursey’s hand, but it works, Nursey stops talking. Dex can feel his fingers tighten around the knitting.
“What do you need me to say, Nursey?” he asks, because he has absolutely no idea what to do. Nursey looks up at him, biting his lip.
“Who’s your crush?” Nursey asks and Dex… Dex didn’t expect something so direct.
“I…” For just a second, he considers saying Holster and playing it off as a joke, but… He can’t, he really, really can’t, so he says: “You. It’s you.” Barely more than a whisper, because what if?
What if?
He starts to move away from Nursey, get some distance between them, but before he can even pull his hands away completely, Nursey is grabbing his wrists, letting go of the knitting. Dimly, Dex thinks of dropped stitches, but that’s not what’s important here. He keeps his eyes firmly on their hands, his own so very pale in direct contrast to Nursey’s soft brown skin.
“Dex, come on, look at me,” Nursey says and Dex wonders if he spaced out for a bit. He looks up, and he isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the soft look Nursey has on his face; his eyes are serious, but there’s a hint of amusement lurking in the corners of his mouth, his eyebrows scream “confused” and Dex can read that face so easily, when did that happen?
“You said you weren’t sure if your crush is even interested in dudes,” Nursey says, his voice mirroring the confusion of his eyebrows. “I know I never officially came out or something, but like. I never made it a secret that one or two of my exes are guys? Don’t you listen when I talk, Poindexter?” Nurseys’ voice is fond, so, so fond, when he asks that and Dex can’t help himself.
“Not when I can help it,” he quips and Nursey makes a face at him. They both know it’s not true, hasn’t been for a long while.
“Dex,” Nursey says, all faux-serious. “You’re an idiot. Can I kiss you?”
Dex blinks at him.
“What?”
He must have misheard.
“I would like to kiss you,” Nursey says. “Because you’re an idiot, but I like you anyway.”
“Oh. I guess that’s okay then,” Dex says and Nursey smiles at him and then they’re kissing. It’s soft and awkward because of how they’re sitting and kind of amazing.
***
They end up not sleeping for a long while. Just making out, and cuddling and talking, sometimes.
“I can’t believe you told me to take Ransom and Holster up on their offer,” Dex says at one point and the second he does, he wants to take it back. It’s a stupid thing to say. But Nursey just pulls Dex closer towards him, kissing him on the nose.
“Yeah, well,” he says. “But you deserved it, and I couldn’t give it to you, so… You did have fun, right?”
Dex feels himself flush. “Hell yeah,” he says, and his voice must give something away because Nursey looks… intrigued.
“Now I’m curious,” Nursey says and Dex can’t deal with this.
“I’m not telling you about my threesome with Ransom and Holster.”
Nursey is quiet for a bit. “Not tonight or not ever? Because you looked super relaxed when you came back, and I’m curious. You don’t have to tell me anything, obviously, but I wanna know how to get you so relaxed.” He starts grinning wickedly. “Of course, I could find out by trial and error,” he suggests and Dex’s face turns even warmer.
“If you really want to know, I’ll tell you sometime. But not tonight.”
***
Dex is woken up by his phone. He needs a second to orientate himself, remember where he is, but then his brain catches up to him and the fact that he’s got Nursey in his arms, and he starts grinning.
His phone continues to ring though, with Vicky’s ringtone. Thanks to the farm, she’s up early most of the time, but she usually doesn’t call him this early.
“Vicky, what’s up?” he asks, “ What happened?”
“Ford invited me to a game sometime, is what happened, Dex. Is that a thing she does? Casually invite friends to your games? Or does it mean something?”
Dex stares at the ceiling. “What? Ford? Why is Foxtrot inviting you to our game?” He asks.
Vicky sighs. “That’s an awful nickname that only makes sense if you connect it to two dudes, and I refuse to do that. But you know how she and I hooked up when I was-”
“You did what now?” Dex closes his eyes. “You hooked up with my team manager?”
“Yes, yes, didn’t you know? Anyway, get with the program, she invited me to a game and I need to know if that’s a thing she does,” Vicky says and Dex groans.
“I feel like my sister hooking up with my team manager is a bad idea, but I don’t know why. So. Do you need me to give her the shovel talk? Can I give my manager the shovel talk?”
Vicky sounds impatient. “Unimportant right now, Dex, come on, I asked you something!”
Dex pinches his nose and gives in. Nursey, next to him, is dead to the world.