"Forget I even asked" dexnursey
Dex glances up at the sound of Nursey’s voice, sticking his pencil behind his ear. Nursey’s frowning, his expression more hesitant than Dex has ever seen him. And that’s weird. Because Nursey never looks uncertain–he’s always got that chill face on, the one that drives Dex up a fucking wall. This isn’t a look he’s used to. Dex raises his eyebrows. “Sup?”
Nursey gestures to the chair across from Dex. “Can I sit?”
“Yeah?” Dex blinks, watching Nursey plop down and put his backpack on the back of the rickety dining hall chair. “You okay, dude? You’re doing, like, a face.”
Nursey wrinkles his nose, which just kind of makes Dex’s point, and then says, in a rush: “Okay, look, so. I was thinking about Winter Screw. And it’s coming up, and I know I’ve been kidding around, mostly, about setting you up with someone? And you haven’t been into it at all, which is cool, because, like, you’re not into my aesthetic or whatever, I get that. But we’ve also been, like, way chiller than we used to be? And I like hanging out with you–not just with the team or whatever, but like, when it’s just us. And then I was thinking, you know, Rans and Holster are trying to set me up with somebody, but I don’t really wanna go with some random person, and–”
“Nursey,” Dex interrupts, because he’s actually a little worried that Nursey isn’t breathing. “Get to the point?”
“I–” Nursey breaks off, chews his lower lip for a moment–and wow, okay, that’s not distracting–and then blurts out, “DoyouwannagotoWinterScrewwithme?”
Dex stares. Gapes, really. Because–what?
Because that. Does not make sense. Because Nursey is soft and gorgeous and languid and cool water, and Dex is–none of those things. Dex is hard edges and too-big ears and jerky movements and hot tempers. And Dex gets distracted by Nursey’s green eyes and his long fingers and the sweep of his curls when he takes off his helmet after practice, but there’s no way that Nursey would ever look at him like that. Dex knows empirical data, and that shit does not compute. It’s gotta be a joke, or a trick, or something.
He must be quiet for too long, staring, because Nursey’s cheeks darken slightly, his lips pressing together. “Okay, message received,” he says. Dex blinks, startled out of his train of thought, but Nursey’s still talking. “Sorry, this was–this was dumb, I shouldn’t have–forget I even asked you, okay, I’m sure Rans and Holster can find you someone you’d like better, I’ll just–”
“Yes,” Dex blurts out.
Nursey stops. “What?”
“Yes, I’ll go with you.” His face is burning, and if this is a joke he’ll absolutely never look Nursey in the eyes again, but he can’t lose the chance.
“You–really?” Nursey sits back down in his seat–Dex hadn’t realized he’d gotten half to his feet. His expression looks a little dazed, but the beginning of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Like, as friends, or…”
He trails off. Dex swallows. You miss every shot you don’t take, right? “No,” he says. “Um. Not as friends.”
Nursey’s grin is instant, and blinding, and without a trace of mocking or teasing. Something loosens in Dex’s chest and spills warm and fluttery into his belly. “Swawesome,” he says.
Dex grins back. “It’s chill,” he agrees, and Nursey’s laugh keeps him warm the rest of the day.