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The NHL All-Star Game is an exercise in patience every year. For some, it’s not that bad. The first time you get back on the ice after bye week is for a game that doesn’t matter in the long run, that is for the fans in a completely different way than the game they played on a daily basis. The first first time back wasn’t even for a game at all. They had the skills competition first, just a couple hours of actually throwing themselves all into something that was just for fun and seeing friends and rivals alike doing the same.
(Some said that it was actually more fun to be micced up for the game, but Derek couldn’t stand the thought of having to be that conscious of censoring his words so that they would be palatable for the fans at home. He tried to give off a persona of chill all the time and the thoughts actually running through his head during games would really ruin that for him.)
On the other hand, for some it’s the very last obstacle before a week with no responsibilities and sand, sun, and fun. Derek was going with Chowder and Farmer to Saint Martin along with a couple other college teammates who had recently graduated and gone into the workforce but were going to take a week off work to spend some time with their friends. He just had to make it through this one last thing before he could be around people he knew and knew him back, not just the façade he threw on to keep people from looking too closely at him. If they didn’t look any closer, they would never know that he didn’t actually belong there, that he was just super lucky and was going to keep riding that until his luck ran out. In just over 48 hours he’d be on a beach with a book in one hand and a drink in the other and life would make sense again for a little bit. But first, he had to get out of the airport and make his way to the hotel with the other New York guys who had come in for the game.
“NURSEY!!” Derek was finally checking into his hotel was there was commotion behind him. The commotion was nearly six feet tall and wearing a San Jose Sharks hat, giving no deference to the fact that wearing a hat for the team you played for was going to get you recognized, even in Houston. “Hi! How are you? How was your flight? Did you just get here? I’m so excited you were chosen to come this year! Last year was fun but this is going to be even better wow.”
Nursey laughed. “Hi Chowder, my flight was good. I am very obviously still in the midst of checking in, I’ve been here for like 15 minutes maximum. How are you? Is Farmer around?”
Chris Chow smiled sheepishly back at his best friend, “I’m just happy to spend time with you! I’ve missed you a lot. Cait had a work thing tonight, she’ll be here for the skills comp tomorrow night and then ready to leave with us after the game on Saturday.”
“I’m glad to see you too brah. You’ve done this before, are we expected to do anything tonight? I just kind of want to get a beer and then go to bed, we had a game run into a shootout last night and I can feel some of the shots I blocked pretty bad right now.”
“Oh! I wanted to introduce you to some of my other friends here tonight, I just thought it’d be fun to all hang out! But if you’re really tired it’s okay, I’ll see you all of next week too!”
Derek sighed and started mentally calculating how much time he’d have to spend out with Chowder at the bar before he could sneak away without the puppy dog eyes making an appearance. “I’ll come and hang out for a little bit but I’m not spending more than like 45 minutes out with you guys, I’m so tired.” Hopefully, that would be enough to keep Chowder satisfied and then Derek could make it up to him once there was a beach and no responsibilities or expectations looming over them.
“Chowder! Over here!”
Derek looks over to see a tall, dark haired man calling for Chowder’s attention, and then has to stop and shake himself. Jack Zimmerman is one of the most recognizable faces in the NHL, easily the most recognizable face to the general public that doesn’t follow hockey. It’s still surreal to him that the players he grew up idolizing, or just watching, are people that he can interact with and play against now.
“Hi Jack! How are you? When did you get in? Who’s this?” Chowder, as always, is nonstop as soon as they get close to Jack and his companion, who Derek is trying very hard not to look at too closely. Derek finally raised his head to make eye contact as –
“This is Will Poindexter, we called him Dex at Samwell, but I’ve heard they’ve got a new nickname for him now up in Toronto.”
- he looks dead in the face of the most beautiful man he has ever seen. And look, Derek has eyes. He’s not an idiot. He knew that William Poindexter was gorgeous with a capital G, okay, he knew. He was aware, all right? But looking at someone on a different team, across a rink, while your teams have a rivalry, doesn’t really invite you to stare the same way that looking at a man in a bar when you’re both basically on vacation does. In all honesty, the man was just so beautiful that even in the depths of Derek’s soul, the part of his soul that said he should go to college and get a degree instead of trying for the draft, the part of his soul that had hoped for a little bit in college that maybe hockey wouldn’t work out, that he could get a publishing contract and sit in a nice apartment in New York and just write poetry for the rest of his life, he didn’t think he’d ever get close to describing just how similar looking at Poindexter felt to looking at the sun. He finally tuned back in to hear Chowder, “This is my best friend Derek Nurse! We call him Nursey,” and has to shake Jack and Poindexter’s hands, feeling like the world is maybe spinning out of control around him.
“Nice to meet you both outside of games. Next time we play, maybe don’t hit me quite so hard, yeah?” He looks straight at Poindexter as he says it and gets to watch the most delightful flush he’s ever seen bloom to life over Poindexter’s face.
“I didn’t even hit you that hard! You just couldn’t hold onto the puck,” Poindexter started out looking a little offended and transitioned to a grin, a chirp, and a quick flirty once over that Derek was hoping in his heart wasn’t imagined.
Just to double check, he made sure there was an extra lilt in his voice as he gave him the slowest up and down look he’d given anyone in a while (trying to make it in the NHL didn’t leave a lot of time to start a relationship, or even just hook up, with anyone with anymore of a normal schedule), “I’m sure you never have any problems keeping a hold of the puck.” Derek watches as Will, yes he’s Will now, even if it might only be in his head, notices and looks slowly satisfied. With that, Derek is content to see how the rest of the night unfolds.
Three hours later, he’s deep in conversation with Will about some artist that his moms are obsessed with that Will actually went to college with, when Chowder yawns and then stands up, “Alright you guys I’ll see you for breakfast! I’m going to call Cait before I go to bed, she’s finally home from practice.”
Jack mumbles his agreement before the two of them head out towards the hotel. Will smiles over at Derek, “It’s probably about time we head back too, can I walk you home?”
It’s a mark of just how much Derek has discovered he likes Will Poindexter in the last few hours that he doesn’t chirp him for the weak flirting game, or the fact that they’re staying in the same hotel and Will’s room is three floors closer to the hotel bar than Derek’s is. “I’d like that,” he told Will.
“I actually have a question to ask you first, okay? Don’t laugh. I know we just met, but I would really love to take you to dinner tomorrow night, like a real date. I know our teams don’t like each other, but it’s only like an hour long plane ride from Toronto to New York, and I just really want to be able to say I’ll get to see you again after this weekend ends.”
Derek thinks to himself that this might be how he dies, with the most adorable man in the world telling him that he’s perfectly happy to try long distance after only knowing each other for a handful of hours. “I would love nothing more than to go on a date with you, tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that.” They’ve made it up to Derek’s floor at this point, and he looks down at Will. “Meet me at breakfast at 10?” The way that Will’s eyes light up is almost too much for Derek to handle and he has to bend down to kiss his cheek before the night is over. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Sleep tight.”
As Will walks away, Derek watches him leave and then steps into his room to scream into his pillows. He’s got a date with a brilliant man the next day and nothing could be better.