Chapter Text
The fourth language is going to provide some obstacles, mostly because Holster has no damn clue what it means and Shitty is getting a bit too suspicious to ask. Like, he did say all that schtick about solid platonic relationships but he also keeps sending Holster knowing glances whenever he lets his thing about Ransom slop over the edges of the like, vat or whatever he keeps it hidden away in.
(That’s a catastrophically bad metaphor but it does sort of explain the spilling aspect pretty well. Sometimes Holster just like, looks at Ransom and he can tell he’s betraying everything. Like the emotion’s sloshing over the side of the vat.
Look, it makes sense, alright.)
Anyway, Shitty might just put it together once and for all if Holster comes to him about this again, and Holster doesn’t really want to risk that. Not that he doesn’t think Shitty would be great about it, but it’s—it’s private. And Ransom needs to be the first to find out.
(At one point, he considers asking Bitty. But excluding one particular person who he's completely oblivious about, Bitty is way too perceptive for his own good.)
So Holster goes to Lardo. He figures she’s like, wise and everything. She’ll know.
---
Lardo doesn’t know.
“What the hell is a love language?” She asks, frowning not at Holster but at the painting she’s currently standing in front of. Holster thinks she might be analysing the colour balance instead of contemplating his question.
“Like, French?”
“No,” Holster sighs. “Not French.”
---
Holster’s next port of call is the internet. He’s generally distrustful of any online relationship advice, as a general rule, but he thinks he’s going to have to risk it here because his real-life options are null and void (respectively).
Even when the stuff he found for ‘words of affirmation’ was pretty—well, terrible, to be totally honest, and not at all suited to his situation.
He gets a result this time; he realises, after the best part of an hour and a little bit of a tumble down a wikipedia rabbit hole, that ‘acts of service’ basically means ‘doing chores’. Like, cooking, cleaning, things like that. Most of it is kind of more applicable to married couples but he thinks there’s plenty of stuff he can come up with for him and Ransom.
He has a good feeling about this one.
---
Holster’s first idea isn’t straight from the internet.
They’re at morning practice and Ransom’s got a Bio-Chem assessment almost directly after skate ends, which is already making him stressed out enough.
Normally the routine and the feeling of ice under his feet is a pretty good way to calm Rans down, get his mind off the test. But today is just not his day. He’s fallen on his ass at least five times. And like, the first two times were funny but Holster can tell that Ransom is starting to get frustrated with the way his skates seem to have a life of their own today.
He’s a two-hundred-plus pound defensemen. No way he should be having this sort of trouble gripping the ice.
Holster is kinda annoyed that it takes him so long to realise the obvious, actually. He remembers Ransom taking his skates to the equipment guys after their last game when he crashed pretty brutally into the boards and the legs of this big centreman at the same time. Some idiot must have sharpened Rans’ blades wrong, like maybe their normal guy was on vacation or something and they let the intern loose on the machine, because Ransom has all the grip in one direction and absolutely none in the other.
Holster winces in sympathy as Ransom once again tries to turn left and goes flying when his feet slide out from under him. Damn, that’s rough.
“Mis-aligned grinding wheel, eh?” he says as he helps Ransom stand. Then immediately frowns to himself—because apparently he says ‘eh’ now like an actual freaking Canadian.
Ransom’s such a bad influence.
“Looks like it.” Ransom grunts back. There’s a worrying crease between his eyebrows that hockey normally gets rid of. Holster hates it.
So when they get back into the locker room and Ransom is looking like all the frustration from the practice is just compounding onto the test anxiety and on top of that Holster knows he won’t have time to go and get his skates sharpened if he wants to, like, not be in a rush to get to his exam—
(G-d knows he can’t be rushing into the exam at the last minute. Even Holster gets stressed out by that.)
Holster barely thinks before tugging the skates out of the iron grip Ransom’s got on them and clanking them down on the bench.
“Rans, chill. I’ll go get them sharpened.”
“You sure?”
“I know your specs, it’s no big deal. You focus on your test, bro.”
“Dude, thanks,” Ransom says, smiling as wide as could be expected before a Bio-Chem exam. It fills Holster with this frankly pathetic warm feeling. Rans leans in for a fist bump as he leaves to get his pre-exam Redbull and Holster wants to kiss him.
He doesn’t, obviously. But just for that second, it’s almost like he could.
---
Holster’s never claimed to have a good memory, alright. And he’s scrolling through this website that has like, a hundred ideas for acts of service. There’s no way he’s supposed to remember all the ones that are applicable to Ransom.
So he writes a list. On the back of a receipt from Annie's that he finds scrunched up in his jacket pocket when he and Ransom are studying at the library.
Well, Ransom is studying. Holster is sitting across from him and doing his usual thing of glaring at other students and occasionally offering distractions when the tension builds up a little too much in Ransom’s body language.
Holster doesn’t have any paper, and he’s not going to ask his best friend because that would bring questions, hence the receipt. It’s risky enough as it is, doing it literally in front of the guy; he feels like that man in Mission Impossible. Tom Cruise. Ethan Hunt. Or whatever.
He’s not humming the music under his breath, because that would be immature. (He’s not.)
The list slowly and messily takes shape on the receipt;
How to Convince Rans I Love Him: Chores Edition
- Make Canadian Kraft Mac—he misses it
- Put up a shelf for his textbooks
- Let him choose next movie night
- Call the Visa office about that question he had
- Make him pie?? Ask Bitty
- Watch a Leafs game with him
- ...
By the time Ransom’s finished the references on his paper, Holster has got a good twenty things on the list. The words are scrawling and crammed into every spare bit of the space but he feels this weird mix of satisfaction and anticipation as he carefully folds it and slides it covertly into the pocket of his sweats. This feels like the one. These are all so obvious. Like, there’s things on there he’d never in a million years do for anyone else on the team, and Ransom’s gotta know that.
He’s gotta, right?
---
Jack finds Holster hunched over his laptop on the green couch. His face must be super screwed up because it’s enough to earn a concerned glance.
“You okay?” Jack asks awkwardly. It sounds as unnatural as a 90+ day in Buffalo but Holster appreciates the effort. Bitty must have really had an effect on the guy, because during Holster’s freshman year he’s pretty sure Jack didn’t say more than five words to him that weren’t somehow related to hockey. He’s come a long way.
“I’m good,” Holster says back, not very truthfully, his focus still on the laptop where this stupid Canadian website is refusing to let him pay because it can’t recognise the Haus’s zip code.
Jack actually sits down next to him and peers at the screen, which probably surprises both of them. Holster tries to not raise his eyebrows; he doesn’t want to spook the guy.
Then the captain laughs, which is a complete curveball.
“You’re ordering KD online?”
Holster shrugs. “Yeah? For Rans?”
He’s not sure why it’s a question.
“From Superstore.”
“Um.”
Jack laughs again. Holster is kind of worried for him.
“They don’t deliver here.”
Oh. That makes sense.
That makes a ton of sense. Oops.
He must be pulling another face because Jack fixes him a look as he stands up.
“Just order it from Amazon,” Jack says, and Holster doesn’t know which revelation to be more surprised at—that you can get Canadian Kraft on Amazon or that Jack knows what Amazon is.
---
The KD arrives the next day (thanks to the shared Haus Prime account no-one knows who’s paying the subscription for). Holster finds the perfect time to cook it up when he’s at home and Ransom is out at one of his classes that Holster can’t pronounce the name of.
He always comes back from this specific class in a foul mood. Hopefully the KD—and the fact Holster cooked it for him—might help with that.
Chowder pokes his head around the door of the kitchen. He must have smelled the cheesy goodness of the mac—Betsy really does have the weirdest power of spreading every smell of food throughout the entire Haus.
Chowder doesn’t even live here.
His face is all kinds of hopeful and Holster feels bad when he tells the poor rookie that it’s special D-men mac.
He should’ve known that wording was a mistake, because two minutes after Chowder’s sad face disappears from the doorway, the two D-frogs turn up, shoving and chirping because they’re incapable of standing within a metre of each other without doing that.
“Heard there’s mac and cheese,” Nursey says, trying his best to look chill and being totally betrayed by the excited look in his eyes. Dex just looks angry, which is kind of his version of a neutral expression, but there might be a hint of hope in the way his eyebrows raise.
“Sorry, dudes,” Holster says, and he really is sorry. “It’s for Rans.”
“What?” Nursey says. “He’s not even here.”
Holster can tell the tips of his ears are going that red colour they always do when he’s put in sticky situations.
“Uh, it’s for when he gets back,” he says with as much confidence as he can muster. “I ordered the proper Canadian stuff, to cheer him up.”
“Is he depressed or something?” Dex asks, then scowls at Nursey when he receives an admonishing elbow in the side.
“Nah, it’s just this is like, his least favourite class,” Holster says, and he’s perfectly aware, thank you, of how bros don’t normally do stuff like this. He just has to hope Dex and Nursey will put it down to the RansomandHolster symbiosis and not the actual, far more embarrassing truth that he’s too chicken to admit his feelings like a normal human being.
Not like Dex or Nursey have any high ground over Holster in the whole emotional intelligence field, especially considering how they seem to have spontaneously begun an argument now and neither are paying attention to the mac and cheese anymore.
Frogs, eh.
---
Ransom comes home at like, the perfect time, when Holster’s got the KD keeping warm in its pan on the stovetop and has bowls set out for them to take it up to the attic and is standing there on his phone tapping his foot nervously. He’s just starting to worry that Ransom actually has another class or an extra project or has been delayed for some reason—just veering into the dangerous territory of what if he’s gotten hurt when the front door clicks open.
Exactly as planned, the glorious smell of mac and cheese lures Ransom to the kitchen and Holster.
He’s got a sceptical look on his face, like he thinks it might be a trap.
“Made you KD,” Holster says, as casually as he can manage.
“You mean Kraft Mac,” Ransom replies pretty much immediately. “Don’t try and call your substandard American stuff KD, Holtzy.”
“No, it actually is KD,” Holster grabs the box, which he left out for exactly this purpose. “Look.”
Ransom’s face does some interesting things.
“Bro, you made me Canadian KD?” he says, and his voice is quiet.
“Yeah, I got it online.” Holster waves his hand dismissively. Ransom’s still just kind of staring at the KD as Holster shares it between the bowls, so he elaborates.
“That class always puts you in a bad mood. I thought this might help.”
Holster hopes Ransom’s silence is because he’s overcome with emotion and not because he’s passed out. He sneaks a look, just to check. Rans is standing, still holding his bag, in the kitchen doorway.
So he hasn’t passed out. The silence is still sort of worrying.
“Rans?”
“Dude,” Ransom finally says, voice sounding a bit odd. Choked, even. Holster does him the courtesy of not commenting on it. “You’re the best.”
---
There is one moment, sat together on Holster’s bunk with their bowls of KD and Netflix open between them, when Ransom levels him with this look that makes Holster think that maybe he’s figured it all out. Something in his eyes seems so much bigger than just being grateful for the pasta.
He’s about to say something, Holster is sure.
But then he glances away and the atmosphere dissipates. Whatever was on the tip of his tongue is lost and Holster is left with only his imagination of what it could have been.
---
Holster dives into his receipt list, and yeah he’s chasing that KD moment but he’s also really enjoying himself.
He puts that shelf up above the desk in the attic for all the textbooks that are currently piled haphazardly against the wall by the door, the pile they both keep knocking over in the dark. Ransom’s grin when he comes back from a Genetics lab and sees them all on the shelf (in alphabetical order, Holster’s not a monster) is so blinding that Holster is suddenly glad he’s sitting down.
The pie idea falls through but Holster starts making Canadian KD more often, because it was pretty cheap off of Amazon and he actually can’t tell the difference from the US one the way Ransom can. It’s no skin off of his back to give Rans that little bit of home. Just like Ransom somehow finds a Buffalo wing sauce that tastes exactly like Holster’s dad’s homemade one.
He lets Ransom choose their next movie-night movie, even though he makes them watch the shitty Goon sequel for about the seventh time this semester. He doesn’t complain once. Ok, maybe once. Or twice. Whatever. It’s the thought that counts.
In a brave effort to make up for his whining about the movie, Holster agrees to sit and watch a Leafs-Hawks game. And agrees to cheer for the Leafs instead of the team he grew up half-supporting. Ransom grins dangerously and shoves one of his horrible bright blue toques onto Holster’s head and Holster has to bite his tongue when Kane scores an absolute top-shelf beauty.
“Y’know he’s Jewish,” Ransom says randomly during second intermission.
Holster almost dislocates his neck looking over at Rans, wondering how the hell he missed that important fact about one of the most famous guys in the game. “Patrick Kane?”
“No, dude, Zach Hyman," Rans says like it’s obvious. Holster guesses something on the analysis mentioned the guy but he was paying too much attention to Ransom to notice. He thinks he maybe shouldn’t tell Ransom that.
“That's not gonna make me like the Leafs, bro,” he smirks. “No chance.”
Ransom just pouts until Holster throws an arm around him and pulls him in to ruffle the tassels on his toque. They don’t untangle themselves from that position until the final buzzer sounds. Holster can’t reconcile the warm feeling of having Ransom close with a scoreboard that puts the Hawks to shame. But he can try, for Rans.
---
Holster records the next Leafs-Sabres game instead of watching it on his own while Ransom’s at class. It doesn’t quite go as smoothly as the last one did but the fates intervene and it comes to a 4-3 overtime win for the Leafs, which is pretty much the closest thing to equal. Holster can bear the pain of losing, he thinks, when he sees Ransom’s victorious grin.
Doesn’t mean he won’t prevent the evening dissolving into a wrestling match, though.
---
Holster tries to find every opportunity to do more of these ‘acts of service’ for Ransom. He makes up an extra protein shake after practise, he records all the Leafs games Rans misses because of class, he fixes the wobble in the desk chair that only makes the anxiety of exams worse.
He even calls the Visa Office to settle that query Rans has because he knows that phone calls are hell for stressed, anxiety-ridden juniors with finals coming up. It was sort of hell for him, too, but that doesn’t matter. He’s doing it for Ransom, because he loves him, and that’s what you do for people you love.
He’s learned more about how a healthy relationship should be in the last few weeks than he’d ever been taught by near on two decades of the American public school system. Go figure.
Still, he’s not getting any closer to Ransom realising. Sometimes there’ll be a moment like the KD one, where it almost seems like something is gonna break. Sometimes Rans will look at him in a way that really does not scream ‘bros’, but Holster has no way of finding out. No way of asking that doesn’t have the potential to horrifically backfire.
The whole point of this was to find Ransom’s love language, right? To find the thing which would convey it all without Holster having to say it straight out. But this one evidently isn’t it, or isn’t clear enough, and there’s only one more left. He’s almost losing hope.