3. Wingman // Nurseydex
a/n: sorry, this is two days late, but it’s also almost 3k, so…. hopefully that makes up for the tardiness? also! please note that this fic doesn’t have anything to do with ngozi’s short comic, wingman. your characters are safe. content warning for underage alcohol usage.
This is definitely not what Dex signed up for.
He’d expected Nursey Patrol to involve limiting Nursey’s shots and keeping him from dancing on tables, which, okay, would have sucked, but this is honestly not much better.
“Soooo, have you met Dex?” Nursey says for the third time this night, like imitating Neil Patrick Harris is still funny. He’s dragged Dex over to yet another group of female athletes that he’s going to have to do his best to avoid for the next three years of his college career. Nice.
“Hi,” Dex says awkwardly. “I’m Dex.”
“Pssh, I just said that,” Nursey says, slinging an arm over Dex’s shoulder and leaning on him only a little more heavily than he might have done sober. “He’s usually a lot brighter than this, ladies. He’s a CompSci major—super smart with computers and shit. Plus all that typing means he’s good with his fingers, if you know what I mean. Just look at those hands—”
“Okay, that’s enough, Nurse. Sorry, you guys, um. Bye.”
He pulls Nursey away from the girls and—fuck, he’s pretty sure one of them is in his Stats class, dammit. Nursey stumbles behind him obediently, letting Dex drag him over to the kitchen. Dex fills Nursey a glass of water and Nursey drinks it dutifully, standing next to the fridge.
“Okay, so remind me why you’re trying to humiliate me in front of half of Samwell’s female population?” Dex demands when Nursey finishes the glass.
“‘M not humiliating you,” Nursey insists, then waggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “I’m trying to get you laid.”