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Ransom’s afternoon class is just wrapping up and he lets out a small yawn, relieved to have no more classes after this for today. As he packs up his things and says goodbye to his classmates, he makes a quick plan in his head for the rest of the afternoon. Starbucks, go home, finish his paper, and then hang out with Holtz and the rest of the team all night. In fact, it’s been a while since they had a full blown Mario Kart tournament. Maybe he could orchestrate that tonight.
He pulls his phone out of his back pocket as he leaves the classroom, intending to text Holster about his plans, but his brow creases when he’s instantly bombarded with notifications from his favorite bro.
*Two missed calls from: Holster
Holster: Rans answer the phone
*One missed call from: Holster
Holster: Rans
Holster: Hurry up
Holster: I need you
Holster: Like right now
*One missed call from: Holster
Holster: RANS I’m freaking out!!
*One missed call from: Holster
Holster: Don’t make me full name you, JUSTIN
Ransom can’t help letting a small huff of amusement at Holster’s dramatics, but concern floods through him as his instincts tell him this is more than just Holster having a meltdown because the store ran out of chocolate fudge ice-cream again.
As he heads down the stairs with more purpose in his step than before, he sends Holster a quick, extremely helpful reply to let him know that he’s here and listening.
Ransom: ???
Holster immediately calls him.
“Thirty seven minutes!” Holster is already yelling before Ransom has even brought his phone up to his ear. “That’s how long it took you to answer the fucking phone! I’m fully, like, having an anxiety attack, man, I need you.”
“Jesus, Holtz, what the fuck is going on?” Ransom frowns, dodging other students as he tries to leave the building as quickly as he can.
“It’s Holly,” Holster starts, his voice tight.
Ransom’s frown only deepens. “Holly? The girl you slept with the other week?”
“Yeah. She’s… fuck, Rans, I don’t know what to do. She said she thinks she might be pregnant.”
Ransom abruptly stops in the middle of the corridor, making a couple of people bump into him and grumble in annoyance at him. He can’t bring himself to care.
“Oh…” Ransom answers weakly after several seconds of silence, his throat suddenly very dry. “Shit.”
“Yeah,” Holster agrees, his voice quieter. “Shit.”
“Are you…” Ransom clears his throat, feeling speechless in a way he never is around Holster. “I mean, how does she know, did she… has she taken a test?”
“She just said that her period’s really late. She’s in class this afternoon and she said she’s going to get a test straight after. So we won’t know for sure for another couple hours.”
“Man,” Ransom sighs, finally forcing his feet to move again after receiving a string of dirty looks from the people who have to deliberately step around him. “And did she say… if she is… it’s definitely yours?”
“Yeah.” Holster lets out a humorless laugh. “I asked her and she got really mad at me.”
“Fuck, Adam,” Ransom exhales, feeling a little dizzy from the information he’s processing. He reaches the front doors of the building, stepping out and taking a deep breath of fresh air to try and calm his pounding heart. It only helps a little. “This is crazy, I can’t believe it.”
“I know. We can’t raise a baby, we’re too young! We’re still in college, we don’t even have jobs yet!”
“You and Holly?”
“No, me and you! You’re in this too, by the way. You can’t let me do this by myself.”
A laugh bubbles from Ransom’s chest, slightly hysterical but amused by the comment all the same. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll be a mess as a first time dad! You’re better than I am at this kind of emotional crap; you’ve gotta help me, man. I’ll make you godparent and everything.”
“That’s sweet,” Ransom can’t help smiling. “Fucking terrifying, but sweet, bro.”
He hears Holster groan, and he doesn’t need to see him to know that Holster is probably tugging his hair in the way he does when he’s stressed. “I don’t know what to fucking do with myself until she’s taken a test. I feel like my whole life has just been fucking changed. Where are you, anyway? I don’t mean to sound so fucking needy but I actually do need you, dude, before I have a full-blown panic attack.”
“Shh, calm down, babe, it’s gonna be okay. I’m on my way home now, where are you?”
“Already home. I’m stress-eating the rest of Bitty’s lemon squares. Don’t tell him.”
Ransom laughs. “Okay, great, just stick with the lemon squares until I get there. I won’t be long, alright?”
Holster makes a pained sound in the back of his throat. “You’ve gotta stay on the phone with me until you get here. Tell me something boring, like what your class was about.”
“Sure.” Ransom hitches his bag a little higher over his shoulder, picking up the pace as he rushes home to his emotional d-man. “So we're looking at biochemistry right now, we’re covering research into ethical considerations of laboratory ex-”
“Ugh, nothing is worth this,” Holster interrupts, exasperated. “I still think you’re insane for taking advanced bio.”
“Fuck you,” Ransom laughs, eyes glancing up to the sky. It’s mid-afternoon but the winter sun will start setting soon, and the clouds are swirling and grandiose. “Okay, shut up and let me tell you about all the cool clouds I can see instead. There’s a really big one that looks like a parrot riding a banana.”
Holster laughs quietly, his response mumbled like he’s chewing again. “What else is there?”
“Uh, there’s a small one next to it that looks like… kinda like a wheelbarrow? Or a shopping cart or something. And there’s another that’s kinda weird and lumpy, looks like, uh…”
“Your mom?”
“I can hang up any second, you know.”
“No,” Holster laughs. “I love Mrs. Oluransi. She gives the best hugs.”
“Better than me?” Ransom can’t help teasing.
“Well, no,” Holster replies, quietly earnest as Ransom hears the sound of more chewing in the background. “No one’s better than you. How long are you gonna be? Someone needs to stop me binge-eating these fucking lemon squares.”
“I’m nearly there, you giant fucking idiot. Put down the damn lemon square before you puke or Bitty finds you.”
“Can’t. I’m gonna marry Bitty’s baking someday, I’m telling you now.”
“Beautiful. Try not to get that pregnant, too,” Ransom smirks, knowing full well that if he was in the room with Holster right now he’d have thrown something at him.
“Rans, fuck! I just went three minutes without thinking about it.”
Ransom laughs. “Sorry, but you can’t expect me to not chirp you at all for this.”
“You suck,” Holster grumbles, the sound of chewing swiftly picking up again.
“Hang in there, okay? I’m almost there.”
Ransom picks up the pace, taking long strides down the street and side-stepping around meandering pedestrians. He’s relieved when he finally sees their Haus sweet Haus, letting himself in, dumping his bag on the floor and making a swift beeline for the kitchen.
Holster is leaning with his elbows on the counter, phone still pressed to his ear as he looks up and lets out a heavy sigh of relief at the sight of Ransom.
“Hey, idiot,” Ransom says fondly into the phone before hanging up the call, taking a few steps across the room towards Holster and throwing his arms around him.
Holster hugs him back, squeezing him close enough that Ransom can feel the way his body trembles slightly. Holster sighs, his breath tickling Ransom’s ear as he murmurs, “Yeah, I pretty much feel like an idiot right now.”
Ransom gives Holster space for a moment to calm down, swaying them on the spot as he holds his best friend. He’s glad there’s nobody else around to disturb them, wanting some time alone with Holster whilst the two of them talk things over and process the situation together.
Only when Holster’s broad, tensed shoulders finally start to relax a little does Ransom loosen his grip, pulling away just enough to see Holster’s face. He gently squeezes Holster’s waist and leans in to press a quick, reassuring kiss to Holster’s cheek - an action he wouldn’t dare to do when they’re around any of the other guys. “Wanna go upstairs?”
“Yeah,” Holster responds, his cheeks tinged a soft pink.
So the two of them head up to the attic, grateful not to bump into any of the team on their way up. The Haus is quiet, most people still in class or out and about around campus.
Holster heads immediately to his bed, flopping down with a melodramatic groan. Ransom closes the door behind them for privacy, joining Holster and sitting on his bed with him. He wants to be reassuring, but he also doesn’t want to freak Holster out with any serious kind of talks yet when they’re not even sure if there’s a baby or not.
Ransom opts for a joke instead. “You know Shitty is going to give you a full fucking lecture about having protected sex, right?”
“I did have protected sex, I wore a condom, I swear!” Holster whines, pained as he rubs his hands over his face.
Ransom sighs, rubbing Holster’s shoulder. “Maybe it broke. Condoms are only effective ninety eight percent of the time, I guess.”
“After this, I’m not wearing anything less than three at a time. I’ll triple bag if I have to.”
Ransom laughs. “Wow, such a gentleman.”
Holster chuckles weakly, his gaze moving up to the ceiling. Ransom watches for a moment as Holster gets lost in thought, hand coming up to chew on his fingernails as he does when he’s on edge sometimes.
Ransom takes Holster’s wrist, and gently pulls his hand away.
“How are you feeling?” Ransom asks. “Like actually?”
“Scared, man,” Holster admits. “I just really hope it’s negative. I don’t know if that’s horrible to say, but I just… I’m not ready for this kinda shit, you know? I just wanna play hockey and throw kegsters and hang out with you guys.”
“I know. And it’s not horrible to say; I’m pretty sure I’d feel the same way. But I’m here, okay? I’m always gonna be here.”
Holster shoots him a weak, soft smile. “I know you are. What would I do without you, huh?”
Ransom beams, moving to lie down beside Holster. “Probably implode. And you’d dress worse, for sure.”
“Hey, now. There is nothing wrong with the way I dress.”
“Usually I’d fight you on this but I’ll let you off today on account of baby-gate.”
“Ugh,” Holster grunts, dramatic. “This is what I get for having powerful fucking sperm.”
Ransom laughs aloud, getting more comfortable beside his friend. “Fucking gladiator sperm, bro. That’s not a detail I needed to know about you.”
“Well there you go, I think you officially know everything about me now,” Holster says, glancing to the side and shooting Ransom a weak smile.
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you know everything about me already.”
“Well, you’ve never told me about your sperm.”
Ransom laughs, playfully shoving Holster. “My sperm isn’t on trial right now. I haven’t potentially knocked anyone up lately.”
Holster groans loudly, rolling to bury his face against Ransom’s shoulder. “What am I gonna do?”
Ransom aches with sympathy, his own stomach twisting up again as he tries to hide his own anxiety. “Nothing,” he murmurs. “Nothing until we know the test results. There’s no point in stressing too much before then, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Holster agrees, though he doesn’t sound convinced.
“Look,” Ransom sighs, reaching his hand across to cover Holster’s. “Whatever happens, it’s gonna be okay, you know? If the test’s negative, then great, we go order pizza and carry on with our lives and it’s chill. And if it’s positive, then we’ll work it out. One step at a time. And I’ll be here the whole way through, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Holster murmurs, smiling weakly. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“I do know that,” Ransom jokes.
Holster lies in contemplative silence for a few long moments, and Ransom gives him the space to be quiet. Eventually, Holster asks, “Can we just watch something and chill for a while?”
“Yeah, course. Maybe a sitcom or something.”
Ransom reaches for his laptop, turning it on and bringing up the Netflix account the two of them share. They choose a show and then lie back together, watching the screen quietly. Holster’s body gets slowly less tense beside him, and Ransom is glad he’s been able to help Holster relax just a little.
It’s going well, until one of the characters on screen makes the emotional announcement to her friends that she’s pregnant.
“Oh, come on,” Holster groans, head flopping back against the pillow.
Ransom bursts out laughing. “I swear I didn’t choose this episode on purpose.”
“This better not be a fucking sign. Where’s my phone? I’ve gotta keep checking to see if she’s texted me.”
Ransom is closer so he picks up Holster’s phone, passing it over to him. Holster checks it before exhaling, tossing it to the side again.
“Nothing yet?” Ransom assumes.
“Nothing yet. She should be done with class by now though.”
Ransom’s own stomach twists, though he tries to hide it from Holster. “Okay, that’s okay.”
“It’s really not,” Holster sighs, tension seeping back into his body as he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck this. Do you think I should actually go celebate now?”
Ransom snorts, shifting onto his side so he can see Holster properly. “I mean, sure. Probably a little late for that though.”
Holster huffs, copying Ransom and rolling to face him too. When he next speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, and Ransom inches closer to hear him properly. “Why couldn’t I just be smart like you?”
“What are you talking about?” Ransom frowns. “You are smart. You’re super intelligent, dude, I don’t know why the fuck you would even think you’re not.”
“It’s just… I don’t know, something like this would never happen to you,” Holster mumbles. “I always screw things up.”
Ransom’s frown only deepens, hating hearing his best friend sound so self-deprecating. “Holtz, it’s not your fault if the condom broke. You did everything right, you might have just got… unlucky.”
“Yeah,” Holster repeats miserably, gaze shifting away from Ransom. “Sounds like me.”
It feels like snakes are squirming in Ransom’s stomach, so unused to hearing Holster talk about himself this way. Ransom bristles, passionate and defensive, and he leans in to gently press their foreheads together.
“Shut up,” he murmurs, no heat behind his words. “You are an awesome, funny, clever, fucking insane, ridiculously loud dude, and you’re my best friend. You’re not a screw-up, and one little accident doesn’t make you stupid either. Don’t get down on yourself, okay? I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that.”
He feels the gentle puff of Holster’s breath against his lips as Holster releases a breath. “Sorry, I don’t mean to throw a pity party. I… hey, thanks, man. Means a lot.”
“Don’t ever forget it, dumbass.”
They lie together for an undetermined amount of time, their breath mingling as the rise and fall of their chests fall in sync with one another. Ransom is just starting to drift off, warm and cozy from the shared body heat, when the quiet vibrate of a phone disturbs their slumber.
Holster instantly shoots up, a rush of chilly air hitting Ransom in the space where Holster once lay. He barely notices it, all traces of sleepiness gone as he stares at Holster with wide eyes and bated breath.
Holster’s eyes cast over the screen, intense, before his face breaks out into a grin and he lets out a loud shout of relief. He immediately throws his phone to Ransom, rolling off the bed and continuing to shout, running his hands through his hair. “Oh my fucking god!”
Ransom quickly grabs Holster’s phone to read the message, heart pounding.
Holly: We’re good - it’s negative. I’m still never having sex with you ever again
“Fuck, man!” Ransom exclaims, relief flooding through him so fast it makes him feel faint. “Thank fuck for that!”
He tosses Holster’s phone onto the bed just as Holster tackles him in a hug, the two of them laughing as they squeeze each other tightly. Holster, swept up in the moment, pulls away and plants a quick, chaste kiss to Ransom’s lips, the sudden affection making Ransom’s heart skip a beat and his stomach do a little somersault. It’s not the first kiss they’ve shared in moments of (usually drunken) elation like this, and he’s sure it won’t be the last either.
“I am so fucking relieved, man, holy shit!” Holster laughs, moving away from Ransom and tugging at his hair again. “That was so crazy, don’t ever let me do something so stupid again. I’ll sit through as many of Shitty’s sex ed lectures as he wants.”
“Bro, he’ll actually love that.”
“Oh my God, we need to throw a kegster,” Holster says, eyes lighting up. “C’mon, let’s fucking go, we gotta buy drinks.”
“A kegster, are you for real?” Ransom laughs. “‘Epic-Holster-ain’t-gonna-be-a-dad-kegster’?”
“Perfect! Shall we do it tonight?”
“You’re fucking insane.” Ransom grabs his wallet nonetheless, never needing a solid reason to throw a kegster. “But I’m all in.”
“Yeah, you always are, huh?” Holster turns fond for a moment, catching Ransom’s eye. “Dude, I just… I can’t believe I told you I might be having a baby and that you needed to help me raise it, and you just straight up rolled with it without a second thought. Just fully accepted you might be a godfather.”
“Well, yeah,” Ransom shrugs as if it’s the easiest answer in the world. “You’re my ride or die. I guess that includes helping you raise an illegitimate child, which is an unexpected and terrifying addendum to our friendship that I wasn’t aware of until today.”
Holster laughs, reaching across to gently slap Ransom’s shoulder. “You’re my ride or die, too, man. Let’s try and hold off on the illegitimate children for a while though.”
“Hey, you don’t need to tell me twice. I’m not gonna be the one triple bagging my dick every time I have sex from now on.”
“Oh fuck, yeah, don’t let me forget to buy more condoms while we’re out,” Holster says, completely seriously. “I’ve gotta make an investment and stock the fuck up.”
“Sure, man.” Ransom rolls his eyes at his ridiculous best friend, picking Holster’s car keys up off the desk and tossing them to him. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah.” Holster grabs his jacket, throwing it on and shooting Ransom a wink. “C’mon, ride or die. Let’s go celebrate.”