Chapter Text
Nursey focuses on the ground as he and his teammates dejectedly trudge off the ice. He can feel the gaze from the stands raking his back, cheers piercing the air while frustration crackles through his friends. As they move away from the crowd, Nursey longs for the tinny buzz of the locker room. Sometimes, especially after a loss, it can feel a little crowded, but Nursey doesn’t mind. There’s something soothing about the press of his teammates around him: the camaraderie, the comfort of familiarity and mutual failure. Maybe that will be enough to quell the muddled rush of emotion building up inside him.
When they reach the locker room, a shaking Dex throws his helmet across the room, and Nursey peers at him out of the corner of his eye. He wants to say something, do something to wipe that angry red flush away and still the torrent of frustration trembling in Dex’s taut shoulders, the clench of his pursed lips and set jaw. Every inch of his exposed skin burns bright red, from his forehead down to the curve of his neck where it disappears into his jersey. But Nursey can’t do anything, can’t say anything that would make it better, so he places a steady hand on Dex’s back, trying to will some semblance of comfort into him, help him see that things will be okay. He feels Dex’s shoulder blades twitch for a second under his jersey, tense up and then relax, but only for a moment. His body still shakes like a leaf shuddering in the wind, and Nursey feels a desperate surge of protectiveness crash over him.
They change in silence. Jack is nowhere to be seen, and it’s better that way because Nursey doesn’t know how he’ll be able to face him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking about how Jack and Shitty are going to graduate this year without the win that they had fought so hard for. He glares at the ground, unlacing his skates as he attempts to quiet the swirling dismay in his chest.
When Nursey finally looks up, Dex catches his eye, his skin now a shade lighter than the angry red flush he had shone with before. He’s calmer now, still pink, his expression subdued. Nursey tries for a smile but feels the corners of his mouth fall too quickly, and Dex feebly rolls his eyes in response. Nursey smiles a little more easily then, because this is familiarity, this crudely balanced back and forth that he’s come to know and appreciate so much about their relationship. Dex looks up again, raises an eyebrow, but Nursey is still smiling faintly at the way his scruffy orange attempt at a playoff beard shifts in the bright light.
At that moment, Jack appears at the entrance to the locker room, looking pale and exhausted, still fully clad in his hockey gear. Bitty is close behind. Jack surveys the team for a few moments, and everyone looks at him expectantly. There’s a pause that feels like an eternity before Jack finally cracks a tired smile and says, “Thank god Chowder can finally shave all that hair off now, eh?” It sounds forced and colorless, but the room slowly fills with chuckles, and the crushing silence is over. Nursey glances over at Dex, who shoots him a smirk, and smiles inwardly. Maybe moving on won’t be so hard after all.