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Dex doesn’t cry when he’s awarded the captaincy, but it’s a near thing.
He does sit on his bed that evening, holding the plaque in his hands, staring at it for a very long time. There are a million different things that should be crowding his thoughts right now: Whether or not he’s up to this challenge; whether or not he earned it; how the hell he’s supposed to lead these guys in a season directly following a championship win led by the first out captain of an NCAA division one hockey team...
But instead, the only thing that fills his head, hours after the initial shock of being handed this honor, is: Of course I voted for you.
He can still hear Nursey’s voice clearly in his ears, all pseudo-casual and confident, his arm slung around Dex’s shoulders. But his tone was softer than usual. And a little lower than necessary, so that Chowder was probably the only other person who heard him.
Of course I voted for you.
Said so easily. Too easily when paired with such a fond expression that was obviously going for cocky and failing.
Said like it was obvious. And like Nursey was just waiting for Dex to ask the question that prompted the words.
Holding that plaque, his best friends immediately at his sides, Dex doesn’t know why the first thing out of his mouth was to wonder at Nursey’s vote. To poke that particular disbelief that rears its ugly head whenever Nursey decides to press the buttons in Dex that illicit positive responses, instead of the ones that he knows will end in shouting.
Of course I voted for you.
If he’s really honest with himself, Dex sometimes kinda likes when it ends in shouting.
When it ends with a smirk from Nursey and a blush from him. Or an eye roll from him and a reluctantly amused snort from Nursey. When it starts to feel less like pushing buttons for the hell of it, and more like I want to know more of you and the only way you’ll let me is if I poke at you.
And now Dex is Captain. His teammates all voted for him. Nursey voted for him. Nursey...
Of course I—
Dex stands up abruptly and sets the plaque down on the bed. He heads up the stairs, out of the basement, and then up another flight to the second floor.
Nursey’s door is open, and Nursey himself is visible through it as he stands over a pile of papers on his desk, eyeing them. His suit jacket is off but he’s still got his dress shirt on, sleeves rolled up attractively to just below his elbows, showing off sinewed forearms. A couple more of the top shirt buttons than earlier are undone, so that his breastbone is visible, the swell of his pecs stretching the opening just enough to be, frankly, indecent.
Dex is pretty sure he now knows at least a few of the words that have been stuck in his throat ever since he first met this insufferable man.
“Well hey there, Cap,” Nursey greets jovially when Dex knocks lightly and enters the room. There’s a twinkle of mischief in Nursey’s eyes at the use of Dex’s new title, but there’s nothing mean about it. It’s the kind of subtle segue-way into a chirp that leans heavier into the flirting than the chirping.
And so, of course, Dex is blushing before he’s even managed to utter a word.
Nursey grins, but doesn’t crow over the achievement. So obviously he’s got a lot more on the way. A barrage of incessant prodding for as long as he can make Dex stick around.
That poking and prodding all started to get a lot gentler once he found out Dex wouldn’t always stick around. Once Dex moved out and Nursey was faced with the fact that there was a limit.
Nursey has his own limit as well, which Dex has slowly been learning at the same time.
They both just got so good at pushing each other for awhile there that they kinda forgot to keep catching each other too.
Before Nursey can say anything else, Dex takes a step forward, further into the room, and lets the door shut behind him. “Why am I always so surprised when I find out you like me?”
Nursey blinks, clearly caught off guard. And then he surreptitiously slides his gaze up and down Dex’s form like he’s trying to ascertain what level of disaster management is required. Is Dex mad at him? Is Dex fishing for something?
There’s nothing that physically gives Dex away, though. He’s got his own dress shirt still on as well. A couple buttons undone, but a tanktop beneath that keeps it all rated a solid G. He was in the process of removing his tie when he first sat down on his bed with the plaque, but got distracted halfway through and so it now just hangs loosely from his neck.
Nursey blinks again, like he’s surprised by Dex’s apparent sincerity. “...Because I don’t like you?”
“No, it’s because I’m an idiot,” Dex throws back, fast and easy.
Nursey purses his lips for a moment. Then concedes with a small tilt of his head to the side. “Yeah, fair.”
“And shut up, okay? You do like me. I’ve finally started to believe that, so just. You know. Shut up.”
Nursey doesn’t frown, but his expression is a hard neutral that, for once, doesn’t let anything slip past his guard as he continues carefully studying Dex.
Then he nods once, quick. “Again, fair.”
Dex closes his eyes. “I want to be a good captain.”
“You will be. I wouldn’t have voted for you if I had any doubt.”
Dex squeezes his eyes closed a little tighter. “And I want to be a good friend.”
Nursey sighs in a way that sufficiently conveys his epic eye-rolling as he does so. “You already are, dumbass.”
“And I want to be a good—” Dex stops himself. Because even with his eyes closed, this is hard. Even not looking at Nursey, he can feel the weight of the other man’s gaze. “I want to be... good. To you. For you.”
The silence in response lasts for so long that Dex finally opens his eyes to see Nursey turned away from him and staring out the open window on his right. His shoulders are a tense line, and his jaw is clenched. At last he says, voice rough, “Wonder why I’m always so surprised when I find out that you like me.”
Dex shrugs, trying to keep his tone light. “Because you are an even bigger idiot.”
Nursey huffs and turns back to face him. “I think we share in the idiocy equally, Poindexter.”
“True. But also I could probably have been a lot better at showing it.”
“Showing it?”
“Showing that I like you.”
“Well you did run screaming from having to share a room with me...”
“Okay, that was on both of us and you know it.”
Nursey hums and doesn’t disagree. His shoulders are still too tense, though, his eyes skirting away from Dex every few seconds like it’s hard for him to keep them there. “So did you come up here for a reason, or...?”
A breath of laughter escapes Dex. “For someone so well-versed in poetry, you are really bad at reading between the lines.”
“And for someone so generally straightforward, you are doing a hell of a job at not actually saying what you mean.”
“Fine, Derek,” Dex huffs. “Then here it is: I like you. And I know you like me. I’m terrified of having the C but I want to do it right. I want to be a good captain, and a good friend, and a good... more than friend.” Dex sighs and runs a hand down his features. He’s not used to decelerations like this, and he feels immediately exhausted by it. “I don’t know how to say it more plainly than that, Nursey. I just want to stop being such a stubborn asshole about pretending I don’t notice when I catch you staring at me.”
Nursey’s jaw clenches again. His expression allows nothing. “I don’t stare at you,” he says, perfectly monotone.
Dex nearly growls in his frustration. But reins it back in, just barely, at the last second. He puts his hands in his hair and grips it tight without actually pulling.
And then he breathes in deep, counts to ten, and lowers his hands.
He regards Nursey with a critical but sympathetic gaze. “You voted for me,” he says.
Nursey remains motionless and pointedly aloof.
Dex, for once, doesn’t take the bait.
“You trust me with that, you know me, and I’m telling you that I feel the same way.”
Nursey looks down at the floor and bites his lip. “It’s not the same—“ he begins to mutter, but Dex interrupts.
“I feel the same way,” he repeats, determined.
And finally Nursey looks back up at him, expression so vulnerable, all cracked open with hesitant hope. He swallows, throat catching with how dry its gone. “You are way too pragmatic to think that this conversation is a good idea.”
“I am also,” Dex reminds him again softly, “a stubborn asshole. And that side won out when I decided to come up here.”
It’s Nursey’s turn, then, to take a step forward, making the distance between them now feel almost nonexistent. Despite the fact that he probably shaved twice since this morning, his usual five o’clock shadow is now back in spades. His ever-growing bicep tattoo is faintly visible through the thin fabric of his dress shirt. His always meticulously maintained curly hair is just out of sorts enough to seem a bit rugged and unintentionally dashing.
“You’re my teammate and now my captain. I don’t want to be the thing that trips you up. ‘Don’t shit where you eat’ or whatever. You’re already worried about next year, and I’m not going to be the final straw that breaks you.”
Dex purses his lips and steps forward once more, eliminating the distance between them entirely.
“Are you planning on breaking me?” he asks quietly.
“Of course not, but you know how I am. How we—”
“You voted for me,” Dex interrupts, putting his hand over Nursey’s mouth just to make sure Nursey stops arguing long enough to listen to this. “You’re not going to be the last straw for me next year, Derek. You’re going to be what helps me succeed. And I want to be that for you too.”
They stare at each other for a very long moment, the air heavy around them.
And then Nursey licks his palm.
Dex pulls his hand away from Nurey’s mouth and makes a face. “Did you seriously just--”
“Neither one of us is emotionally mature enough to not break the mood right now, I mean come on.”
Dex rolls his eyes, wiping his hand on his pants. But he’s smiling and doing a poor job of hiding that fact.
Nursey sobers then, and draws in a deep, somewhat shaky breath. He meets Dex’s gaze with his own. “Tell me I won’t be a burden.”
The words hit Dex right in the sternum, with enough force to affect his gut as well.
“You could never,” Dex assures, hoping his suddenly chaotic emotions are choosing the right words for this. They so rarely have before. “Tell me I won’t be a hurdle. A... a plot point to overcome.”
Nursey’s features soften so much that Dex feels like he’s intruding by not turning his eyes away. “You won’t be.” And then he grins. “But holy shit if you talking all writer-like doesn’t do it for me.” He pretends to leer. He means it, but is also too nervous to make it seem as confident as he always wants to make it.
“Alright alright,” Dex pretends to sigh, and barely bites back an answering smile. “We’re both idiots, we both know the other way too well at this point, and we should probably kiss in the next several seconds or one of us will never hear the end of it.”
Nursey takes that as the challenge Dex knew he would.
But Dex also takes it as a challenge, and so they meet halfway. They kiss and kiss and kiss and it’s... Not something Dex has the words to describe, despite his somewhat poetic turn a few moments ago.
“You’re right,” Nursey breaths raggedly as they press their foreheads against each others and gasp for air. “I am totally not letting you live this down.”
“I was the one that came to you!” Dex replies indignantly, though he’s just as out of breath and just as preoccupied with mouthing along a collarbone he’s secretly always wanted to taste.
“I voted for you,” Nursey throws back.
“So did almost everyone else on the team. You think they also want to get in my pants?”
Nursey pulls back just enough to smirk at him. “Well, if they do, they’ll have to fight me for it.”
Dex rolls his eyes, and kisses him again.