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1
“Holy crap,” Emily said, sitting down next to Chowder and pulling out her laptop. “Your hockey friend absolutely blasted me in class today.”
“Oh no,” Chowder said, covering his face. Dex should never have been allowed to take a World War II From an International Perspective history class. The topic was too close to home. “What did he say?”
“We were talking about Hiroshima and Nagasaki,” she said.
“Uh ohhh,” Chowder said, wincing. Dex’s grandfather was a World War II vet, and Dex was very proud of this, and Chowder knew he believed with genuine sincerity that he would have died in the planned land invasion if the bombs hadn’t been dropped. Personal feelings like that got in the way of logic and reason when it came to controversial matters like the necessity of the use of the atomic bomb.
Chowder knew this, because Dex had been shaking when he stormed out of the room mid-argument with Nursey, looking simultaneously like he wanted to punch Nursey in the teeth and burst into tears.
“And I said that using them was a war crime and everyone knows it was just an intimidation tactic against the Soviet Union using Japan as an unfortunate casualty of the Cold War, and he just blew up at me,” Emily said. “Told me that I could believe what I wanted to believe, but acting like either side of the argument was obviously correct was willful ignorance and disrespectful to the hundreds of thousands of American soldiers who almost definitely would have lost their lives in Operation Downfall. It was pretty intense.”
“I bet,” Chowder said, wincing again.
“It was so weird, because he’s normally such a chill guy,” Emily continued.
“Uh,” Chowder said. Well, that was patently untrue, but nice of her to say?
“Then Professor Whittemore said he admired our passion, but could we please go back to discussing Maus,” she said. “I didn’t know it was such a personal topic for him. I think I really upset him.”
“I’m sure he’s okay,” Chowder said. He blinked, something occurring to him. “Wait, aren’t you reading Maus in your…?”
“Literature of War class, yeah,” Emily said. “Why?”
Chowder furrowed his brow. Dex wasn’t in her Literature of War class. “Nothing,” he said absently.
Nursey was, he realized. But he wouldn’t have any personal feelings on that matter, would he?
Weird. He would have to remember to ask Nursey about it later.
2
While he was walking to Koetter, Chowder composed a quick text - What is the soup today?
Soup was just… really important, and the last three days had been some variant on barley and leek. Which, no.
He hummed as he walked, thumbs hooked under the straps of his backpack, and then pulled out his cell phone when it buzzed in his pocket. Clam chowder., Nursey had written.
With the period.
Ooh. Nursey never texted with punctuation unless he was upset. He also hadn’t taken the easy opportunity to chirp Chowder about his name, so. Uh ohh.
Instead of going straight to the soup line, Chowder immediately sought out Nursey at their regular table and plopped down across from him. He folded his hands on top of the table. “What is wrong?”
“People are dickheads,” Nursey grumbled with no further need for prompting. “You know? Like, how fucking hard is it not to be a huge dickhead? This is fucking college, what if people didn’t get off on catty gossip like fucking middle schoolers? I can’t believe there are still people that immature - we’re supposed to be adults, fuck.”
“Hm,” Chowder said. “Yes.” He reached over and patted Nursey’s hand. Then he said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You do know that, right?”
“I just found out that Lara has, like, a tally chart for Dex’s different shirts,” Nursey said, scowling fiercely. His hands were gripped tight around his cardboard coffee cup to the extent that Chowder worried about its structural integrity, and leaned away in case of an errant soy latte flood.
“I somehow understand even less,” Chowder said.
“Making fun of him for wearing the same shirts over and over again,” Nursey said tightly. “Like, there’s double points for wearing a Samwell hockey hoodie over his blue plaid shirt.”
“Oh,” Chowder said, considering this. He frowned. “Well, that’s a fucking shitty thing to do.”
“Right?” Nursey said, fingers tightening even more. “I was honestly, like, stunned. I had no idea what to do.”
Chowder set aside his anger on behalf of Dex to pay more attention to Nursey in that moment. He cocked his head to the side, trying to identify the set of his jaw, the downward cast of his eyes.
Guilt, he realized. It was guilt.
“Um,” he said. “It’s like Dumbledore said, you know?”
Nursey looked up. “I have… literally no idea where you’re going with this.”
“It is harder to stand up to your friends than to your enemies,” Chowder said, patting Nursey’s hand again. “Dex would not blame you for not alienating yourself with your friends for his sake. It wasn’t your fault she is terrible.”
“What?” Nursey said. “No, I told her to fuck off with her classist bullshit.” He narrowed his eyes. “If Shitty wouldn’t make me put five bucks in the jar, I’d have told her what an enormous -”
Chowder put his hand over Nursey’s mouth. “Right, yes, got it.”
Nursey shook his head. “Just wish people weren’t dicks.” He reflected silently for another moment, gaze focused inward, before he sighed and looked up, shaking it off. “Dude, aren’t you getting soup?”
“Yep!” Chowder said, standing up. “You are a good friend, Derek Nurse.” He head-bonked him. “Even if I know you would rather die than let me tell Dex what you did.”
“Don’t you dare,” Nursey said, flailing in his seat and knocking over the coffee cup, spilling soy latte all over himself.
Chowder giggled all the way to the soup counter.
3
Chowder pretended very hard to be invisible when Jack stalked past him to Nursey's spot on the bench. Jack had a way of glaring that made him want to apologize even when it wasn't his fault.
“I don't want an explanation,” Jack said, viciously quiet. “I don't want to hear what he said about your mother or your sister or your pet Pomeranian - you keep it together on the ice.”
“Got it,” Nursey said, his face carefully blank.
“I don't think you do,” Jack said. “Because if you did, you'd know that it isn't Chowder’s job to cover for you when you get your ass thrown in the box for the dumbest penalty ever taken.”
Nursey actually growled. “I said I've got it.”
Jack still didn't seem convinced, but he gave a jerky nod and went to his seat to start weaving new laces into his skates.
“Dude,” Shitty said, after a long awkward silence, “do you actually have a Pomeranian?”
Nursey shook his head. “We have a Jack Russell?” he said.
Ransom perked up. “Dudes. Did you hear about the guy who went to that zoo where the only animal was a dog?”
“Huh,” Holster said, frowning thoughtfully. “Oh yeah, I heard about that - it was a Shih Tzu, right?”
Ransom stared at him, betrayed. “You just stole my awesome joke.”
“I helped your awesome joke,” Holster said.
“You stole my awesome joke,” Ransom repeated as if in disbelief. “My joke was awesome and you stole -”
“Helped!”
“So what did Malkovich say to Nursey, anyway?” Dex asked Chowder in an undertone. “You must have heard.”
Chowder shrugged. “Didn't hear anything,” he said honestly.
Dex shot him a skeptical look but backed off.
Chowder meant it, though. Malkovich hadn't said anything in his earshot to explain the blatantly dirty hit Nursey had laid on him.
And if Chowder thought it might have something more to do with the questionable check on Dex right behind the net that Malkovich hadn't been called for, then it wasn't really anyone's business but Nursey's, right?
4
“You know what, let’s cut through the SciLi,” Nursey said, grabbing Dex by the wrist and tugging him abruptly in the opposite direction. “I need to return a book.”
Amidst Dex’s grumbling, Chowder glanced back and saw a table of students with a large sign calling for CDS to stop serving tuna. He had to squint to make out some smaller text about overfishing and murder and environmental genocide before Dex called for him to hurry and catch up.
Ooh, yeah, probably better not to give Dex a chance to throw his hat into that ring.
Chowder had never met someone with such strong feelings about fish in his life.
5
Chowder was getting a refill on jungle juice at the moment it happened, which meant he was a lot closer to the action than the rest of the team. He tried to take mental notes, knowing from the very start that he would be asked to recount the story later by no fewer than six different people, at the very least.
“Dude,” Riley said, snagging Nursey by the collar. “Lara says you like, flipped out on her earlier for the shirt thing. What the hell, dude, it’s a joke.”
“It’s a shitty joke, then,” Nursey said in a close approximation of his normal drawl, although there was an unfamiliar tightness in the line of his shoulders. “I calls it like I sees it.”
“God, you hipsters are so freaking sensitive,” Riley said, rolling his eyes. “You don’t actually get points for being the best allies, there aren’t awards for it.”
Nursey shrugged, ratcheting his shoulders up even tighter. “And you rich elitist fuckboys don’t get complimentary Costas for being judgmental fuckheads, yet somehow you keep on truckin’ there, so…” He shrugged again.
“Nice line, you practice it at home?” Riley said. “Or does that stoner guy train you up with soundbites just in case someone makes a slightly politically incorrect joke about your white trash friend?”
Chowder’s eyes went wide, and then even wider when Dex walked up. “What’s going on?” he said, frowning.
“Nothing,” Nursey growled, eyes flashing with a fire that Chowder had never seen from him off the ice. “We’re good, yeah, Riley?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” Riley said with a smirk. “So - Poindexter, right?”
“Say another fucking word,” Nursey said, barely seeming to notice when Chowder rescued the Solo cup of jungle juice from his hands before he could crush it between his clenched fingers. “Say one more fucking word, Tyson, I swear.”
“Jesus, Nursey,” Dex said. “What the hell’s the matter?”
“Yeah, Nursey,” Riley sing-songed. “Tell your trailer -”
Chowder didn’t know how he didn’t see the fist coming; it was pretty obvious that Nursey was winding up for it. Nursey had a good 20, 30 pounds on the kid - ugh, lacrosse, Chowder took a moment to disparage mentally - and he put all his weight into it, sending Riley sprawling on his ass.
Unfortunately, Nursey did not have as much weight on Riley’s friends, who abruptly took great interest in the situation occurring two feet away from them.
It was a very exciting 30 seconds.
Even though he had been as close to the action as anyone, Chowder lost Nursey in the hullaballoo, and it was only by following the droplets of blood afterwards that he tracked him out of the house, down the sidewalk, and into the Student Union. He tried to carry the bag of frozen peas stolen from the sorority house by the very corner so the warmth from his hand didn’t thaw them.
He found Nursey in the all-gender bathroom, hearing his voice before he caught sight of him. He couldn’t make out individual words, just a low murmur that rose and fell, at one point loud enough that he heard ‘Well, maybe that’s not -’ before dropping off again.
When he looked into the mirror and saw the reflection of Dex standing between Nursey’s legs, leaning in and dabbing at his split lip with a wet paper towel, he paused.
Dex’s expression was both alien and achingly familiar, exasperated but fond, the way he always seemed to be looking at Nursey only so much more so. He shook his head. ‘ I can’t believe you- ’ Chowder read from his lips before he forced himself to look away, feeling abruptly intrusive on such a private moment.
He looked down at the bag of frozen peas in his hands, then up again, taking in the tenderness softening Dex’s features. He chewed his lip, conflicted.
‘ I can’t believe you - ’ he read from Dex’s lips again. But this time, it was Nursey pulling Dex in by the shirt collar that left the statement unfinished.
Chowder backed out of the bathroom, carefully easing the door shut behind him. This definitely wasn’t his moment to interrupt.
Anyway, Nursey would tell him all about it at lunch the next day, he figured.