Chapter Text
“Bitty, how many layers are you wearing?”
“Eight,” Eric replies, glaring at Ransom from beneath the two scarfs wrapped tightly around his neck and lower half of his face.
Shitty tugs him against his side. “Don’t make fun of him, brah. Our sweet southern belle just isn’t used to such cold, Canadian winters!”
“And you are?” Lardo asks.
Shitty opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Eric takes this as an opportunity to free himself from his friend’s grasp.
When Ransom had invited them all up to Canada for the last week of 2015, Eric had already been a bit reluctant to accept the invitation. Then he had made it known that they’d be spending their trip at a ski resort and Eric was even less inclined to say yes. It took a lot of convincing, Ransom and Holster creating an entire PowerPoint presentation on why Eric should go on the trip.
Once they had gotten to the slide about how it’s Ransom, Holster, and Lardo’s last winter break before they graduate and therefore one of the last chances they have to do something all together, Eric had caved in.
So here they are, arriving at a resort Eric can’t even remember the name of, with temperatures in the negatives and snow covering every surface. Thankfully, they’ve arrived too late in the evening to do any skiing today; Eric is perfectly happy with staying in the rustic hotel with its central heating for as long as he can.
They drop their luggage off in their rooms – Ransom, Holster, and Shitty in one with him and Lardo in another – which Eric takes as an opportunity to shed a few layers, leaving him in only an undershirt and his Samwell Hockey hoodie.
Once they’re done getting settled in their rooms, they all head down to the lobby for dinner. The food is decent for a hotel restaurant, and once they’re finished, Ransom and Holster immediately make a beeline for the pool table they had seen near the bar when they arrived. Shitty joins them.
“For emotional support,” He explains. “You know how much they both suck at pool.”
Lardo waves him away, rolling her eyes fondly before turning to Eric. “You wanna drink?”
“....Lards, I’m still only twenty.”
“We’re in Canada, man. Drinking age is nineteen here.”
Eric’s eyes widen and he nods, getting up from his seat. He and Lardo sit themselves down at the bar, hopping up onto the barstools. Eric hopes he doesn’t look like a child, with his legs dangling from the chair and his eyes looking anywhere but at the bartender.
Lardo notices his nerves immediately and orders for both of them. He doesn’t even know what she got for him, but as he takes a sip, the tension in his shoulders loosens almost immediately. He gives Lardo a smile, thanking her for knowing exactly what he needs to feel better.
Someone else slides up to the bar then, sighing as he takes a seat right next to Eric. He chances a look at the stranger, and Eric almost chokes on his drink.
The guy is….exactly his type, if Eric’s being honest; Tall, broad shoulders covered by a navy cable-knit sweater, messy dark hair as if it’s been contained in a hat for hours, a jawline that could cut glass, and even in the dim lighting, eyes so blue Eric can’t even believe they’re real-
He looks to Lardo, who’s eyeing him knowingly, looking at the man and back at Eric before taking her drink and hopping off the stool. She shoots him one last look as she makes her way to where Holster is using his cue stick like a hockey stick, shooting the balls into the holes and failing miserably every time.
Turning back to the bar, Eric glances at the man beside him, only to see him staring back. Eric quickly averts his eyes and takes a not-so-subtle gulp of his cocktail, hoping the high alcohol percentage will calm his rapidly beating heart.
The man, seemingly unaware of Eric’s internal Gay Panic, gets the attention of the bartender and says, “I’ll have a beer, thanks.”
The sound of the stranger’s voice has Eric downing the rest of his drink; that accent, Lord almighty….Eric can’t even place it (French maybe? It’s definitely unique), but he can recognize that he finds it extremely attractive, like, unfairly so. Paired with the man’s looks, Eric wonders briefly if he’s died and this is who’s welcoming him at the gates of Heaven.
Or is it Hell? Because Eric is so incredibly nervous right now it almost feels like torture.
“....And another one of whatever he’s having,” the stranger adds, gesturing to the now empty drink in Eric’s hand.
Ok. Definitely Hell, because now Eric’s on fire.
After a few moments of staring, he realizes he should probably say something. “Um….Thanks.”
“It’s no problem,” the man replies, raising his drink to his lips. Eric can’t help but notice how big his hands are; they’re at least twice the size of his own-
A new drink is placed in front of him, and Eric immediately goes to drink it. It suddenly feels a lot hotter than before, making him tug at the collar of his hoodie.
The unfairly attractive man next to him tracks the movement, looking down at his hoodie with recognition. “Samwell...Like Samwell University?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m on their hockey team,” Eric glances down at the words on his chest, then back up at the man. “...Obviously.”
The stranger’s eyes light up at that, and damn are those eyes blue. “What a coincidence! My mother went to Samwell.”
“Really?” Eric asks, nerves subsiding a little as he smiles. “Wow, small world!”
The man smiles in return, and his teeth are somehow also perfect. “Very.” He takes another sip of his beer and turns in his stool to face Eric. “So, what brings a college student from Massachusetts all the way to a ski resort in Ontario?”
So that’s where they are! To be honest, Eric had completely forgotten what province they were in the moment they left the airport. Not like it makes much of a difference where they are either way, with the weather staying the same practically everywhere up North.
Wait, is this guy trying to flirt with him?
No, he can’t be.
“A friend of mine is from Toronto. He invited us up here for New Years’,” Eric replies, gesturing towards the pool table where the game seems to be going terribly, from the looks of it.
The man glances in the direction of Eric’s friends and nods, “I see. So, how’s the cold treating you so far?”
“I live in Massachusetts, what makes you think I’m not used to it already?” Eric responds, leaning into the flirting; not too much, just enough to get the idea across (hopefully).
“I don’t know, you just seem like someone who does better in the heat.”
Yeah, he’s definitely flirting. Fuck, Eric doesn’t know how to respond-
“Plus, your hands have been shaking this whole time,” the man adds, a soft laugh escaping his lips as sets his eyes on the hand around Eric’s drink.
Eric’s not sure if it’s actually from the cold or….something else, but he shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket anyway. He can feel the warmth of a blush reaching his face as the man beside him gives him a knowing smile.
“So, have you ever skied before?”
Grateful for the change of subject, Eric shakes his head. “I think you can guess the answer to that one.”
“I thought you might surprise me,” the man reaches for his beer, but doesn’t take a sip. “Don’t worry, I’ve heard the instructors are pretty great here.”
Eric’s about to ask what he knows about them when Shitty appears between them.
“Bits, you gotta get over there. Holster’s challenging Ransom to a rematch and they almost started sword fighting with their cue sticks. It’s swawesome!” Eric gives him a pointed look and Shitty’s eyes widen, making him whip around to the stranger sitting behind him. “Sorry to interrupt whatever magic is happening over here, brah, but I’m gonna have to steal my boy Eric away from you now. Captain’s orders.”
Oh, Eric is going to have a talk with Ransom and Holster after this.
The man looks a little confused, but he nods and Shitty takes that as permission to haul Eric out of his seat and towards the rest of the crew.
“Sorry!” Eric calls out as he’s dragged away by his friend.
But the stranger just smiles, giving a small wave and saying, “It’s alright. See you on the slopes!”
Eric doesn’t even have time to wonder what he means by that, too busy being roped into convincing Holster to give up on winning for now, everyone starting to feel the fatigue from their flight.
“I demand a rematch tomorrow though,” Holster says on the elevator ride up to their rooms.
Ransom gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Of course, bro. Tomorrow you can beat me all you want, but can we please go the fuck to sleep now?”
They part ways for the night, and Lardo proceeds to prod Eric for deets on the “unfairly attractive” man he’d been talking to.
It’s only then that Eric realizes he never even got the guy’s name.