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The buzzer sounded. To Nursey’s right, Dex dropped his stick, eyes vacant with shock. Behind him, Chowder pushed back his mask, tears already streaking his cheeks. In front of him, Nursey’s breath fogged over his plastic visor, and hazy figures moved across the ice. Cheers and airhorns skipped on the boundary of Nursey’s perception, and he felt the pinch of his shoulder pads and the cold air on his face, but the sensations seemed far away. He drifted on his skates until Dex slid into his chest, and Nursey’s consciousness rushed back to feel Dex’s arms wrapping around him. Dex pressed their helmets together, narrowing Nursey’s vision to the dimples in his cheeks and the gold-rimmed pupils looking straight into his eyes.
They won.
Chowder crashed into him a moment later and all three of them toppled over onto the ice, 175 pounds of goalie and 50 extra pounds of goalie gear on top. “You guys!” Chowder hiccupped between gasping breaths. “You guys! Oh my gosh! Guys! You guys!”
Dex’s laughter crackled out from the bottom of the pile. He was crying now, too, and hugging both of them. Squeezing them, really, and laughing hard through his tears, red-faced and unashamed.
Nursey had never felt more present.
--
When they finally made it back to the locker room, Nursey pushed open the door and took one step before he was tackled to the ground. Again.
“MY! BEAUTIFUL! BABY! BOY!” Shitty punctuated each word with a kiss on his forehead.
Dex giggled at the sight and barely reacted in time to catch Bitty in a flying hug. Dex spun him around and grinned over Bitty’s slight shoulder at the much larger man behind him. His former captain—and last year’s Stanley Cup winner—grinned back. “Congratulations, guys.”
“Thanks for coming Jack!!!” Chowder beamed.
Jack gripped Chowder’s shoulder for a moment before pulling him into a hug. “Of course, eh? It’s about time this team took home the title.” Jack’s face beamed with pride, and Chowder started sniffling again.
Bitty released Dex in order to grab Chowder, both of them red-eyed and smiling. “No! No more crying, y’all! I’m all cried out!”
“Shitty, let me up!” Nursey whined. Shitty responded by scrubbing his mustache on Nursey’s cheek. It was wet. When Dex finally took pity on him and pulled Shitty up by his armpits, he found himself pinned to the ground next to Nursey within seconds.
“MY BOY! MY GORGEOUS! GINGER! GRANDSON!”
“Auuuuuuugh!” Dex squirmed his face away from Shitty’s affections, and his eyes found Nursey, still on the floor beside him, grinning and flushed and watching him fondly. Dex grimaced at him, and Nursey’s smile widened even further.
Chowder saved them both by tripping over someone’s arm and landing, once again, on top of the pile.
--
“So, boys: Where to?” Lardo peered down at them from the driver’s seat of a periwinkle minibus, double-parked in front of their hotel. A quick wink broke her otherwise impassive expression.
Nursey smirked. “Hey Larissa, how’s it been?”
Lardo casually raised an eyebrow at the name. Dex boggled at the vehicle. Chowder caught up with them, arm slung around his girlfriend’s waist, and immediately squealed, “Lardo! We missed you!”
Lardo dropped her cool façade, and delight filled up her face. “Get in here, you dumb butts! I missed your dumb faces!” She slapped a button to trigger the sliding passenger door, revealing a lime green interior accentuated by twin airhorn blasts.
“EHN! CEE! DOUBLE-AY! CHAAAAAAAAA-”
“-AAAMPIONS TWENTY NINETEEEEEEN!”
“Oh my gosh! You guys!”
Rans and Holster used their free hands to pull Chowder into the minibus. Caitlin helped by hoisting him up by his ass.
Hands over his ears, Nursey peeked at Dex just in time to catch him looking back. They grinned together, easy and intimate, as if they’d never hated each other all those years ago.
--
Hours later, Nursey stumbled against Dex as they navigated the hotel hallways. “You’re drunk, Dexy.”
“I’m drunk? You’re way more drunk.”
“We’re drunk together. Drunkgether.” Nursey giggled and gestured with the hand that wasn’t slung around Dex’s neck. “T‘gether forever. Drunkever.”
“At least for another month.” Dex pulled on Nursey’s waist to guide him around a corner. His lips were a thin line.
Nursey opened his mouth to respond, but he lost his train of thought. Dex continued pulling, and he did his best to follow.
“Hold on, I need the card. Here, lean on the door.” Dex handled him with practiced fingers. Nursey’s head was starting to hurt. There was a glass of water, and he managed out of his shoes, and then there was a bed. Nursey pulled Dex down with him without thinking about it. He was still holding on to Dex’s wrist when he fell asleep.
--
Nursey had two thoughts when he woke up the next morning. In order, they were 1) I’m in bed with Dex and 2) We’re going to be together forever. His head was throbbing, but everything else felt wonderful—Dex’s back against his chest, his arm curled around Dex’s torso, Dex’s fingers meshed together with his own. It was good. And in the span of a moment, Dex’s warmth and the ache in his temples joined the sudden memory that they won the championship, and Nursey started to cry.
Dex, of course, woke up and tried to turn over. Nursey just held him tighter.
“Nurse.” Dex’s fingers flexed against Nursey’s hand. “Nursey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just . . .” Something stuck in his throat. Emotion churned in his chest, and his thoughts skittered around potential explanations. They were together, they were good, they were champions . . .
Nursey remembered the championship, and the drinking, and he and Dex had fallen into bed and Dex had said something about a month and oh shit graduation and oh shit oh shit this is it this is it this is it I can’t breathe I can’t . . .
“Nur—Derek. Shit, look at me. Derek.” Dex twisted and broke his hold. Nursey started gasping as Dex fit his palms around his jaw. He clutched at Dex’s, at Will’s wrists, but he shut his eyes against his stare.
“Derek, it’s ok, just breathe, slowly now . . .”
Derek’s sobs broke with quivering breaths. Will shifted, pressing his cheek against Derek’s forehead. Will’s fingertips stroked the back of his neck.
When Derek was 16, he had the worst panic attack of his life. He stayed up all night to finish a short story, submitted it on time for a competition, and immediately broke down. He’d been worrying about the deadline for weeks. He should have felt relieved. Anyone normal would have been relieved. Derek felt sick.
And now Will was comforting him, and they had won, and it felt like the end of all he ever wanted.
His breathing slowed. Derek could sense embarrassment prodding just outside his awareness, but it could wait. Embarrassment was nothing compared to this.
Will didn’t pull back, and neither did he. Exhaustion flooded his senses, and he almost slept. Almost.
“Derek.” Will’s mouth moved against his forehead, and goosebumps trailed down Derek’s back. “Derek, I need to tell you something.”
Will seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Derek nodded, slow and slight. A puff of breath escaped across his temples.
“Derek—” Will stopped. His fingers stilled, and drew back. Derek looked up—Will’s brows were drawn together, lips pursed. “Wait, I’m sorry. I’m—Derek, are you all right?”
It could have been the tone of voice, or the words, or even the almost-admission that did it. In the moment, Derek only noticed the movement of Will’s throat as he swallowed down whatever he wanted to say.
“I think I’m in love with you, Will.”
There was a half of a pause, and then Will’s lips touched his forehead. Lightly at first, then firmer, and then a laugh that could have been either of them. Another kiss, and another laugh.
“I’m definitely in love with you.”
--
Two months later, Derek tripped coming up the stairs to their apartment. Will caught him from behind and shoved him up to the landing. “Dumbass.”
“You love my ass.”
“I hate everything about you.”
Derek grinned, and Will kissed his teeth.
--
A Small Thing
by Derek Malik Nurse
After all
It was a small thing
To die and live again