Work Text:
Day One
“Fuck! Fucking fragging fricking frack frick fuck!”
Holster leaned against the doorway and politely waited until Dex was finished before speaking. “Problem, Dexeridoo?”
Will bristled at the nickname. “M’fine, I’m just fucking… ugh.”
“Ah.” Holster rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his blonde beard.
“Hm?” Ransom asked, peeking around Holster’s shoulder.
“Eh,” Holster answered, sweeping his hand to indicate Dex.
“Mm,” Ransom replied.
“Pft.”
“Snkt.”
“Argh!” Dex slammed the door on the two of them, each reacting with “ooh!” and “eeh?!” until their monosyllables collapsed into giggles.
Will was frustrated, but not really angry. He rarely let his anger show these days—he wouldn’t have made captain if he hadn’t learned to check his temper. These days he had responsibilities and rituals and his own batch of frightened frogs. All around, these days were usually pretty good.
“Pie!” Holster’s voice crashed down the stairs, with Ransom’s “yessssssss” slithering after. The team’s former co-captains had driven down from Boston specifically to check up on Dex before the playoffs. Pie was a welcome reprieve.
Downstairs, Bitty was serving pear lavender slices with walnuts and whipped cream. Dex idly wondered how the team got so lucky as Bitty raised his hand to rustle Will’s new haircut. “It looks great on you!”
“Thath wha I fld hm!”
Ransom just gave a thumbs up.
Dex nervously ran a hand through the longer top section of his straight ginger hair. The sides were shaved well above his ears, and he was afraid the new cut emphasized how they stuck out sideways from his head. Will felt like he was wearing a costume. “Thanks, Bits.”
Bitty beamed at him. After graduating last year, he had been hired back as an assistant coach. The team was overjoyed when he came back, but no one more so than Dex. To be completely honest, Bitty was everything Dex aspired to be—dependable, selfless, and well, unashamed to be himself. You know. Out.
Will wasn’t any of those things.
Holster swallowed his slice (did he eat that in one bite?) and motioned his hand at the ceiling. “Where’s your D-man, my man D?”
“Albuquerque.”
“Hmm!”
“Nn?”
“Hn.”
“Would you stop that?!”
--
Okay, so Rans and Holster were right. Dex missed Nursey. But it had only been, like, 32 hours, and it was embarrassing. It made him irritable and ugh, whatever, it’s not a big deal, just get it together and go to class, Poindexter. Nursey usually walked with him and said something moronic about “little Dexy finally learning to appreciate poetry” because Will had admitted to liking the class, so sue him, and one time Nursey had been so focused on chirping Dex that he had run into a tree, so Will had dubbed it the checking tree, and maybe Derek was one of the closest friends he’d ever had.
Come to think of it, he and Nursey generally spent ninety percent of their time together. Wake up in their shared room at the Haus, eat breakfast, go to practice, walk to class, meet for lunch, study in the library, eat dinner, play video games, go to bed.
At first, Dex thought he would hate spending so much time with the most annoying hipster on the east coast. Will could deal with a certain threshold of annoying—he had little sisters, after all. But his sisters didn’t want to argue about whether banana bread is really more of a banana cake because it doesn’t use yeast, but bread is right there in the name, Nurse, but the naming of parts is not a description of the whole, remember Dexy, remember “The Naming of Parts,” yes I remember, but that wasn’t about bread or bananas and fucking hell Nurse I hate talking to you.
Dex’s sisters are needy and curious and clumsy and embarrassing and Dex loves his sisters with all the straightforward, overprotective love in his bones. Will thinks he is the wrong kind of human.
Dex slung his bag over his shoulder and toed on his shoes with the enthusiasm of a four-year-old going to the dentist. Only three days until Derek got back.
--
Day Two
Bitty found Dex splayed over the kitchen table, pulling on his eyelashes and disdainfully flicking them onto the floor. “You ok, honey?”
Dex grunted in response.
“Do you want some more pie?”
“No.” Dex picked a walnut off the crust anyway.
“Do you want a hug?”
“No. Yes.” Bitty’s hugs were the best.
“Hang in there, honey.” Dex grunted something like “thanks” into Bitty’s shoulder.
--
Nursey: dexxxxxxx
You: What.
Nursey: this presentation is so boringgggggggowekdlshkgy
You: What’s it called?
Nursey: “werewolf women and the waning wild”
You: wtf, how can that be boring?
Nursey: it’s amazing
Nursey: like
Nursey: that takes talent
You: You’re presenting tomorrow, right?
Nursey: yup pp pp yuppers
You: Nervous?
Nursey: . . .
Nursey: i’m
Nursey: . . .
Nursey: oh holy shit she did not
Nursey: . . .
Nursey: wtf bbl
You: Heh.
--
Day Three
Okay, Dex was starting to hate himself. His homework wasn’t cooperating, and his brother had left him a passive-aggressive voicemail, and he was hungry but he didn’t want pie, he didn’t know what he wanted, he didn’t want to call his brother back, coding sucks, everything sucks.
Chowder poked him in the forehead. Will looked up without raising his head. “You really miss Nursey, huh?”
“No.”
“Yeah you do,” Chowder grinned.
Dex pushed Chowder’s book off the table. Chowder continued grinning. Will hated him a little. No he didn’t, not at all. He hated not being able to hate Chowder.
“You know, I bet he misses you, too.”
“Doubtful.”
Chowder raised his eyebrow, unimpressed. Dex had never told him, but Chowder seemed to know about his crush anyway. Bless Chowder for not assuming he was straight. Curse Chowder for figuring out Will’s feelings.
“Stop moping and help me figure out these lines. Come on, I’m depending on you.”
Dex lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Chowder even knew his magic words.
“Okay, okay, I’m over it, let’s do this.”
--
Nursey: dex
Nursey: DEX
Nursey: I rocked it SO HARD
Nursey: like
You: Congrats!
Nursey: i got asked a million questions afterward
Nursey: thanks!
Nursey: it’s because you wished me good luck, you lucky irish clover
You: . . .
You: That’s fucking embarrassing.
Nursey: *heart eyes emoji*
--
Day Four
Dex drummed his fingers on his steering wheel, his truck idling in the arrivals lane at Logan International. After three days of moping, Will was excited and pretty bitter about the reason why. He spotted Nursey exiting the terminal and started singing, “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” to the tune of “Here Comes the Bride.”
Nursey glanced at him and grinned, wide and heart-cracking, before waving and winking and at least three people probably fainted at the sight. Dex wouldn’t know—he only saw the scruff of not-quite-a-beard and a green beanie and a warm face in between.
Nursey threw his suitcase in the bed and half-tripped into the passenger seat. “Didja miss me, Poindexter?”
Will grimaced and focused on the road.
“Yeah, I did.”