Chapter Text
According to Wikipedia the next 'language' is quality time. Shitty looks at Holster a bit suspiciously when he asks about it, but he tells him what it means: doing things together, or even just being with the person when you’re not forced to, or when you have to give something else up or whatever.
“Like eating together.”
And, well, Holster already eats most of his meals with Ransom, at least when neither of them are in class.
“Or dates, like stay-in movie nights.”
Which they do on the regular, just without the romantic subtext.
“It doesn’t even need to be interactive, you can just do things at the same time like exercising, or studying.”
Well, now Shitty’s just listing activities that Ransom and Holster do together. This is a joke.
Shitty pulls a considering face as Holster stands sort of dumbly next to the couch. “Y’know, he’s got that late Ecology test, I’m sure he’d appreciate you just being there even if you’ve got nothing to study for.”
Holster feels like he’s been doused in an ice bath without permission.
“What,” he says, intelligently.
“Well, I assumed you were talking about Ransom, unless you’re hiding a girlfriend from us—which is totally not cool, brah.”
“I’m not dating Ransom?” Holster says. He thinks his voice has climbed a couple octaves.
“Nah, but you’re not saying that close friendships can’t be as important to someone as romantic relationships, are ya? You’re allowed to love your friends and want your platonic relationships to be strong and fulfilling, Birkholtz.”
“Of course,” Holster breathes. “Platonic relationships, right.”
That definitely gets him a weird look, but Holster’s too busy thundering up the stairs to the attic. He can’t believe that Ecology test slipped his mind. With all the Passover stuff and his own introspective focus recently he just totally forgot. He feels terrible.
Ransom’s sat on his bed, hunched over and frowning at his laptop, notecards and random sheets of paper spread around him in a way that makes him look like that FBI woman in Homeland who solved crimes by throwing all of the documents on the floor and sitting in the middle of them or something. Holster’s only seen a tiny bit of that show. But that’s what his brain comes up with as a description of Ransom at the moment.
It’s irrelevant, really. There’s a worrying look in his d-partner’s eyes and Holster knows that nothing about this current set-up is healthy.
“Hey, Rans," he says cautiously. “D’you wanna go to the library?”
“I don’t have any books due back,” Ransom says absently, and Holster frowns.
“Well I need to go,” he lies. “I just thought you might want to come with me. You always get more work done there.”
Ransom looks up, finally. Holster almost cheers. And then he almost falls over because this beautiful little smile breaks across the guy’s face.
“I guess.” Ransom starts collecting the mess of paper up into a more transportable pile. “Thanks for looking out for me, bro.”
“Always,” Holster replies, then he has to clear his throat and turn away because that sounded way more like a confession than he meant it to.
---
Holster figures it can’t hurt to do the gift thing as well and buy Ransom a coffee on the way to the library, so he goes into the shop on the pretense of buying one for himself and just gets two of Ransom’s favourite, fully intending to give 'his' one to Ransom later.
(Ransom’s smile is totally worth the price of two Timmies-style double doubles. Even if Holster had to argue with the barista about what he meant by ‘double-double’ and got charged like an extra 50¢ per cup because apparently the woman hates Canadians.)
Once they get to the library and settle down at a table, they both seem to realise at the exact same time that Holster doesn’t actually have anything to study with, while Ransom has a whole backpack full of notes, plus textbooks and his laptop. Holster guesses the game is up when Ransom levels him a no-nonsense, its-physically-impossible-for-you-to-lie-to-me-so-dont-even-try squint. Damn, he's got that expression down.
“You don’t have your notes,” he says, sounding tired and confused, like he thinks Holster might have left his stuff at the Haus accidentally. Which has happened before, to be fair.
“Uh…I’m moral support?” Holster says, and winces when Ransom’s eyes only narrow further.
“I want to hang out but you’ve got your test, and you’re probably not in the mood, so I’m just here to give you some company," he elaborates. “And scare off the people who come down this aisle making noise. Or the LAX bros. Whoever isn’t going to help you study, I guess.”
He’s rambling, and he’s fully aware of this. He wasn’t really expecting Ransom to call him out. And he can hardly say, yeah I’m trying to help you notice that I’m in love with you. That would be... less than ideal.
“Oh,” Ransom says, before Holster’s train of thought can get away from him, and he glances down at his hands. “You didn’t have to do that, bro.”
“I wanted to,” Holster says back, just stubborn enough to check any argument Ransom might have.
---
Ransom aces the Ecology test. Which Holster knew was gonna happen, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less happy to see Rans grinning about it.
Then,
“It’s all thanks to you, bro,” Ransom says.
And Holster doesn’t know what to do with the look in his best friend’s eyes.
“Wha’d’ya mean?” he manages.
“You looked out for me,” Ransom says easily. “You made sure I was gonna be as productive as possible, even when that took up your own time.”
Well, that’s exactly what Holster was aiming for, but Ransom still seems to be taking this as a ‘bros’ thing. And that’s fine, because there’s still three love languages left to tey, but Holster thought that day had been more like a date than anything he’s done with Ransom before. Except maybe the Niagara Falls thing. But that’s something other bros do. Other bros don’t give up a comfortable afternoon of 30 Rock binging to sit with their bro as he studies just so he has company.
At least Holster is pretty sure they don’t.
Maybe he and Ransom are just too codependent for all this slightly-unplatonic stuff to be noticed, in the context of all the rest of the routine they have. They do already spend a ridiculous amount of time with each other. Like, waking up early for practice, then breakfast, meeting up between classes, working out, chilling—Holster knows that some people would not be able to deal with one person for that long. But they’ve always been joined at the hip.
(More so than some actual couples Holster knows, which makes something weird twist in his stomach.
He immediately feels bad for thinking that, because he knows that however much he might, Ransom will never mean it like that. They’re friends, great freaking friends but only friends. And it’s not fair on either of them to start reading too deeply into what Ransom says or does.)
---
As soon as classes start again after spring break Holster makes sure he gets a copy of Ransom’s exam schedule and learns the times of every single one, final and pop quiz alike. Since Rans always puts more study hours in anyway, Holster gets in the habit of dragging him out of the attic and to the library, via the coffee shop, and just sitting with him, sometimes studying but normally just doing whatever. He can tell that it’s appreciated and Ransom always seems less stressed when he’s got the space to organise everything and some low maintenance company and the resources in easy reach, at least far better than sitting hunched on his bed in panic mode.
Holster would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it too. It’s got to the pathetic point where just being there with Ransom, no matter what they’re doing, is somehow calming. Easy. There’s no pressure and no awkwardness, only their trademark seamless coexistence. Holster loves it a little too much.
He loves it so much, in fact, that he sort of forgets he’s doing Bitty’s whole ‘love language’ thing. And then he promptly realises that the quality time isn’t working to convince Ransom of anything, because even Holster himself can’t distinguish it from something that’s completely normal for them.
So, like, maybe it’s time for him to move onto the next one.