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This is definitely not what Dex signed up for.
He expected Nursey Patrol to involve limiting Nursey’s shots and keeping him from dancing on tables, which, okay, would have sucked, but this is honestly not much better.
“Soooo, have you met Dex?” Nursey says for the third time this night, like imitating Neil Patrick Harris is still funny. He’s dragged Dex over to yet another group of female athletes that he’s going to have to do his best to avoid for the next three years of his college career. Nice.
“Hi,” Dex says awkwardly. “I’m Dex.”
“Pssh, I just said that,” Nursey says, slinging an arm over Dex’s shoulder and leaning on him only a little more heavily than he might have done sober. “He’s usually a lot brighter than this, ladies. He’s a CompSci major—super smart with computers and shit. Plus all that typing means he’s good with his fingers, if you know what I mean. Just look at those hands—”
“Okay, that’s enough, Nurse. Sorry, you guys, um. Bye.”
He pulls Nursey away from the girls and—fuck, he’s pretty sure one of them is in his Stats class, dammit. Nursey stumbles behind him obediently, letting Dex drag him over to the kitchen. Dex fills Nursey a glass of water and Nursey drinks it dutifully, standing next to the fridge.
“Okay, so remind me why you’re trying to humiliate me in front of half of Samwell’s female population?” Dex demands when Nursey finishes the glass.
“‘M not humiliating you,” Nursey insists, then waggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “I’m trying to get you laid.”
“Well, thanks but no thanks,” Dex says. “I can manage on my own, thank you very much.”
“Chyeah, I’m sure you can,” Nursey says suggestively, making a lewd gesture.
Dex isn’t blushing. “Oh my fucking god, Nurse, could you, you know, shut the fuck up? Why do you want to get me laid, anyway?”
Nursey laughs, swaying close enough that Dex can easily feel Nursey’s boozy breath on his face. He stage-whispers in his ear, “You need to get that stick out of your ass, Poindexter.”
“Fuck you, Nurse.”
“Nah, bro, fuck you. That’s the whole point.”
“Why is this your job, seriously?” Dex asks, trying to change the subject. He really doesn’t want to keep talking with Nursey about fucking, and he isn’t buzzed enough to admit to himself exactly why.
“It’s my job to find you hook-ups, bro. D-Man duty, or whatever. Ransom and Holster play wingman for each other all the time.”
As if the act of saying their names summoned them there, Ransom and Holster suddenly burst into the kitchen, beers sloshing.
“Dude, don’t say that word,” Holster says. Ransom nods in agreement.
“Which word?” Nursey asks. “You mean wing—”
“Shh,” Ransom says, lurching forward to put a hand over Nursey’s mouth. “Don’t say the W-word.”
“How come?” Dex asks, because now he’s curious.
“Dunno,” Holster says with a shrug. “Just, a few years ago, Johnson—”
“He was the goalie before Chowder,” Ransom adds.
“Yeah, Johnson heard us using the word and freaked out. Like, seriously freaked.”
“Kept babbling about angels and firefighters and shit.”
“So we don’t use that word anymore. It’s banned from the Haus,” Holster concludes.
“You’re free to use the word ‘Wheelman’ though,” says Ransom.
“O...kay....” Dex says.
“Yeah, chill bros,” Nursey says. “I’m just trying to get Dex laid.”
Holster gives Nursey a high-five. “Nice, bro. The kid needs it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dex asks, but he’s ignored.
“Try the volleyball team. The volleyball team is full of babes,” Ransom suggests.
“Volleyball team, got it,” Nursey nods.
“Hello? Does no one care about whether or not I want to be set up in the first place?” Dex asks.
“Nope,” Nursey says, then pulls him out of the kitchen with more dexterity than he should be able to manage after this much alcohol. Dex wonders if he’s really as drunk as he’s been acting all night. “Hey, have you met Dex?” Nursey asks to the first group of girls they see. “He’s quite a catch.”
_/_/_/
The thing is, Dex doesn’t exactly mind being set up. He doesn’t even mind people trying to set him up exclusively with girls, even though he thinks me might actually lean a bit more towards guys. The problem is Nursey. Dex can handle Nursey when they’re arguing or bickering, when they’re too angry to talk to each other, and when they’re on ice together. But he has no idea what to do with Nursey when he’s complimenting him. It’s not part of their dynamic. Dex feels completely lost.
“Look at those muscles, damn!” Show them your biceps, Dex. You should see him in a tank top, Jesus Christ!” Nursey says to a pair of freshmen on the women’s swimming team. “You can really tell that all that working out pays off.”
“Have you seen the jawline on this kid?” Nursey asks a group of tennis girls next. “Fucking unbelievable.”
“You know what they say about hockey player ass, right?” Nursey says later to some softball chicks. “Dex is definitely not an exception.” He pats Dex’s ass lightly, and Dex isn’t sure if he wants to kiss him or throttle him.
Maybe, just maybe, Dex could have managed to find a way to handle all of this if Nursey weren’t so fucking tactile when he’s drunk.
He keeps touching Dex’s shoulder, grabbing his arm, setting his hand at the back of his neck, leaning into Dex’s side. Between the touching, the compliments, and the tub juice, Dex isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to keep it together. It’s only a matter of time before shit goes down. Because he’s had enough alcohol now to let himself acknowledge that yeah, Nursey was pretty hot, and yeah, he might like this praise and caressing a little too much, and yeah, he might like Nursey, his teammate and fellow D-Man, a lot too much. Which was inconvenient.
He manages to get a short break from the constant physical and emotional onslaught that is Derek fucking Nurse to play beer pong with Lardo. He figures he’s allowed to abandon Nursey patrol for a few minutes, since he’s been on it all night. He deserves a fucking break—labor laws, and all that.
Even with Dex’s subpar aim, he and Lardo still manage to win the game. One of the to girls they’re playing against is in Dex’s CompSci section. They did a group project together at the beginning of the semester, and he’s pretty sure her name is Laura, but he’s not completely sure. He’s too embarrassed to check. She’s nice.
“Damn, you’re pretty good at beer pong, Will,” she says.
“No, no, it’s all Lardo,” he says. “She’s the queen of beer pong. She beats everyone. She’s beaten two different NHL players.”
“Still!” she insists, “she wouldn’t have been able to win if you were just deadweight. You pulled your own.”
Dex really isn’t sure about that—he’s seen Lardo win games with drunk-Chowder on her team. Still, he lets the topic slide. “Is this your first party here at the hockey house?” he asks. “I don’t remember seeing you at one of these before.”
“No, yeah, this is my first one! You call them kegsters, right?”
“Yeah. Kegsters,” Dex confirms. “We have a lot—”
“Heeey, Dex, who’re you talking to?” Nursey asks, coming up behind him and grabbing him by the shoulders. His mouth is right next to Dex’s ear.
“Oh, uh, Nursey, this is Laura—”
“Lauren, actually,” she says, and Dex feels himself blush ten shades of scarlet.
“Shit, Lauren, sorry,” he corrects himself. “Lauren is in my CompSci section.”
“Oh,” Nursey says. His smile falters momentarily, then comes back in full force, almost glaringly bright. His tone takes on a quality that Dex can’t quite place. “Cool. Nice to meet you, Lauren. Gonna get some more tub juice now.”
Nursey wanders off towards the back of the Haus, and Dex frowns after him. He’d like to think that by now, he knows Nursey pretty well, and that? That was weird. Nursey has been practically attached to Dex all night, and suddenly he takes off two seconds into a conversation. It raises a red flag. This is probably Dex’s cue to go check on him, because he’s technically still on Nursey patrol, and he’s definitely been neglecting those duties for the past fifteen minutes. He kisses his short Nursey-free break goodbye. “I should probably go make sure he’s not overdoing it,” Dex says to Lauren apologetically. “I’m supposed to be watching him tonight.”
“He doesn’t need a babysitter, does he?” Lauren asks, eyebrow raised.
“No, no, it’s just...” Dex pauses. “When you’ve seen him dance on as many tables as I have, you learn to keep an eye on him.”
When Dex catches up to him, Nursey has already helped himself to a refill from the cooler. He’s leaning against the doorway leading to the kitchen.
“Hey,” Dex says. “What’s up?”
Nursey shrugs. “Nothing. ‘Sall chill.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Dex says. “You practically ran off back there. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” says Nursey. “Great job, by the way. It looks like you don’t even need me to wingman for you. You’re doing all the work yourself.”
The way he says it sounds almost like an accusation—bitter, caustic. It sets Dex on edge.
“What the fuck, Nurse?” he says. “I thought you wanted me to get laid. You’ve been throwing me at people all night.”
“Yeah. But I didn’t think it would actually work—”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Then why the fuck did you say it? What’s your problem?”
Nursey stands a little straighter, matching Dex’s height. “I don’t have a problem. I don’t give a shit if you fuck her or not.”
“You’re being a dick, you know that?” Dex says. “Clearly, for some reason, you do give a shit. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing is—”
“Bullshit!” Dex raises his voice. “I think I know you well enough by now to tell when you’re fucking lying to me!”
“You know me, huh?” Nursey says dangerously, taking a step forward into Dex’s space. “I bet you just have it all figured out, don’t you?”
“You think you’re so fucking smart—”
“Okay, kids, break it up,” Holster says, wading over from somewhere in the middle of the throng to shove them apart bodily. “This is a party. People are here to have fun, alright? If you can’t figure this out, take it outside. Or upstairs.”
Dex looks around, finally noticing the small crowd that has stopped talking to watch them. Damn it. Lauren is staring at him from across the room, her expression slightly shell shocked, and shame dims his frustration a little.
“Sorry, Holster,” Nursey says. “I think I’m just going to head back to my dorm. I’m not feeling too well.”
“Okay, well, walk home safe,” Holster says, clapping Nursey on the shoulder. “Dex, you good?”
“...Yeah,” Dex says. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Awesome,” Holster says. He disappears back into the party.
“See you later, Dex,” Nursey says. He won’t meet Dex’s eyes. “I hope it’s not raining outside. I didn’t bring a jacket....”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” Dex asks, and he knows he shouldn’t ask, knows that he should probably let this one go, but he has to know. He has to fix this. He cares too much. “We have a game in a couple days, and we’re going to fuck it up if we don’t figure this out—and don’t pretend this isn’t about me somehow, because I know it is.”
Nursey looks... vulnerable. Caged, almost, like he’s trying to look for a way out. Dex really doesn’t want to give him one. Maybe that makes him a dick, too.
Finally, Nursey nods. “Okay,” he says. “Yeah, let’s... let’s talk.”
They go to Chowder’s room, a silent agreement that they don’t need to vocalize. Chowder already left an hour ago to spend the evening with Farmer, so they know he won’t be home for the rest of the night. Nursey closes the door behind them and they sit side by side on Chowder’s bed.
The silence lasts for a while.
“What was that about?” Dex asks finally. “One minute you’re trying to set me up, and the next.... If you’re pissed off at me you can at least tell me why.”
“I’m not pissed off at you, I just—” Nursey says, then stops. He runs a hand through his hair, looking anxious. Dex is used to seeing Nursey angry, upset, happy, and drunk, but anxiousness isn’t something Nursey let’s slip through very often. It makes Dex’s heart clench in his chest. “I didn’t like it,” Nursey confesses. “You talking to her, I mean. Which is really shitty and stupid of me, I know. I’m sorry I’m like this. But I... I didn’t like it.”
And there’s that tone again, the one Dex couldn’t place before. Only now he’s pretty sure it’s jealousy, which—
Shit. Dex is going to need a minute.
“I thought you were trying to get me to hook up with someone,” Dex says quietly.
“I was, I was, I just....” Nurse covers his face with his hands. “I don’t know. I’m probably just drunk.”
Dex can hear the lie in his voice, can recognize the out Nursey is giving him. Dex can just pretend that this was a fluke, if he wants. He can pretend it didn’t mean anything and move on.
Nursey’s still holding his face in his hands, his long fingers brushing the roots of his hair. It’s messy from a night of drinking. It looks almost like it does after a game.
Dex doesn’t want to pretend.
“Hey, Derek?” Dex says.
“Yeah?” Nursey lifts his head from his hands, resting his palms on Chowder’s shark-themed bedspread.
“You were killing me earlier, you know,” he says. He reaches his hand out, setting it carefully on the bed a few inches away from Nursey’s. “You kept saying things about my ass or whatever, with your arms all over me. Do you know how many times you whispered in my ear tonight? They should make me a damn saint for not saying ‘fuck it’ and kissing you.”
For a second, Dex thinks that he’s read this all wrong, that he’s made a huge mistake, because Nursey is silent and he isn’t moving. Then he shifts his hand slightly on the bed, putting it right over Dex’s wrist.
Dex isn’t sure who moves first, after that, but it’s probably both of them. Suddenly Nursey’s face is closer, his jaw sharp and those dark eyes looking more green than gray. Then Nursey’s lips are on his and they’re kissing, softer and sweeter than they have any right to. Dex’s other hand, the hand that’s not being gripped by Nursey’s, comes up to tangle itself in the hair at the back of Nursey’s head, pulling him closer, anchoring him. All he can hear are the muffled sounds of the party down below, the wet sounds of lips, and the breathy noises Nursey’s making against his mouth—or maybe Dex is making those noises? He’s honestly not sure.
They pull apart for a moment, then immediately find each other again. Nursey takes Dex’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs at it and fuck, that noise was definitely Dex. Nursey’s tongue licks into Dex’s mouth, slick and wet, his hand sliding up under Dex’s shirt. Dex feels like he could drown in this, in Nursey. Everything is too much and not enough. It’s always been like this with them, from day one.
Nursey slides his mouth to the side, trailing his lips down Dex’s jaw, down the crook of his neck. He sucks the skin there, then bites.
“Fuck, Nursey,” Dex groans. Nursey pulls his mouth away and looks up.
“Sorry. I didn’t—”
“No, shit, no, do that again. Please,” Dex gets out. He winds his fingers tighter into Nursey’s hair and tugs. Nursey makes a low noise deep in his throat that goes straight to Dex’s groin and then returns his lips to Dex’s neck.
“I fucking love how pale your skin is here,” Nursey murmurs, his breath ghosting the underside of Dex’s jaw. He shivers as Nursey sucks another mark into his skin. “I love how red you get when you blush. I love how dark I can make your skin get when I do this—”
He bites again, and Dex tries and fails to choke back the needy sound that works its way out of his throat.
“Nursey, Jesus Christ,” Dex pants. “Are we—are we doing this?”
“Doing what?” Nursey hums, his voice rough.
“I don’t know—making out, in Chowder’s room... on Chowder’s bed.”
“Why? You think he’d be mad at us for using his room?”
“No.... I don’t know.”
Nursey shifts away from Dex’s neck to look him in the eye. He grins. “What Chowder doesn’t know won’t kill him.”
Damn. He has a point.
“Not a word of this to Chowder, okay?” Dex says. “And we’re not doing this in his room again.”
“But we are doing this again somewhere else, right?” Nursey grins cheekily. Dex rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile inching across his face.
“Yeah. I mean, I hope so. I’d like to.”
“Me too,” Nursey says. “I’d really like that.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” Dex says, and kisses him.
They’re already in Chowder’s room, after all. The damage is already done. A few more kisses aren’t going to make it worse.
Or at least, that’s what Dex tells himself.