Can I prompt some DexTangoWhiskey? Maybe Dex and Tango getting close because of their shared interest in computer science and Whiskey getting jealous?
you know, this too should be a full fic at some point. But for now, I skimmed my prompt list and found something that sounds like it’ll work for your concept. “Where did that come from?”
It’s not like Whiskey didn’t have other friends. He had plenty of friends. He had the lacrosse team. He had everyone on his dorm floor. He had the peeps at the LGBT resource center AND the Latin@ house. He had a regular study group for his intro econ class who usually met up to have dinner together. Really, Whiskey was up the fucking wazoo with friends.
So why the fuck does it bother him that Tony keeps hanging out with Dex?
They’re CS majors. They have a class or two together. Dex is clearly an idiot and needs all the help he can get. It really shouldn’t bother Whiskey that any of this is happening.
Yet here he is, trying to play Smash with Tony at the Haus (on the fucking biohazard couch, no less) which is the first time they’ve been able to hang out outside of practice in two weeks when — “
Fucking Dex shows up.
Whiskey rolls his eyes.
Tango flashes him a smile and commences nattering away. “What’s up, Dex? How was your day?”
“Fine, I guess. That MP I was telling you about yesterday? The one we couldn’t figure out?”
Dex cracks his neck loudly as he settles down on the couch next to Whiskey. Oh of fucking course. “So I asked the TA and apparently this MP was supposed to be reworked between semesters. But they never got around to it.”
“So does that mean we get help or
“It’s extra credit if we turn it in by tonight,” he explains. “Otherwise they’ll explain it in lecture tomorrow. Apparently there’s only one thing we need to know about it for the exam.”
“Why didn’t they just take it off the exam then?” Tango asks.
“I don’t know,” Dex rubs his temple. “Because then they’d have to adjust the percentages or come up with another question I guess.”
“That’s fine,” Tango “We can start after this.”
Of course, Whiskey thinks.
“Nah, I have some other homework to get done first. Why don’t you guys keep playing until Ollie and Wicks kick us out?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Tango agrees.
And so, Dex stays there. Typing away at some user inter-whatever assignment as Whiskey and Tango play another dozen or so rounds of Smash.
“You should really increase your stock,” Dex says after the fifth time Tango’s whooped Whiskey’s (metaphorical) ass.
Whiskey crinkles his nose. “Why?”
“Because he always picks Kirby and always spits you out in the first thirty seconds,” Dex points out. “You’d better at characters with long range offense anyway. You’d stand a better chance if you had a few more lives as buffer.”
“Thanks but — “
“Fuck, that’s a good point,” Tango says. “Hmm, maybe it is time to go broader with my choices too. What’d you think Whiskey?”
“I think maybe you two should just go fuck and leave the rest of us alone already,” he snaps.
Tango and Dex blink at him a few times.
“Ok.” Tango frowns. “
Where did that come from?”
Whiskey rolls his eyes, throwing his controller on the floor. He doesn’t grab his back. He just storms out of the Haus. He’ll probably just go across the street until he cools down. But of course (of fucking course) Dex catches him by the elbow as he’s trudging down the porch steps. Whiskey turns enough so Dex can see him glaring.
“Uh,” Dex stammers. “What was that?”
“None of your business, William.” Whiskey rolls his eyes. “I’ll be back later I just
— can’t deal right now.”
“Look, I’m sorry I interrupted your afternoon with Tango.”
“That’s not the problem
“Then what is?”
“It’s every fucking afternoon, Dex!” Whiskey snaps. “It’s every dinner, every lunch, every lazy afternoon where all I wanna do is get high with my best friend. And you’re just there. And I’m just so
—” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “
— over it, ok? So just leave me alone. I don’t need you’re fucking pity.”
“I’m sorry.” Dex huffs. “For what it’s worth, you know I wasn’t just trying to hang out with Tango, right?”
Whiskey stares at him, confused and impatient.
“I thought we were, I don’t know, bonding?” Dex shrugs, leaning against a post. “My mistake. No harm, no foul, alright?”
“Alright…” and maybe Whiskey feels kind of like a douche bag.
Maybe it wasn’t so strange or odd that Dex only showed up when they were both free. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing that he bothers to ask how Whiskey’s doing or if that asshole in his biology section learned to keep his mouth shut yet. Maybe it wasn’t about getting Dex to leave them alone. Maybe he just needs to accept that Dex is there. Dex sends him videos just to make him laugh, and Dex keeps an extra slice of whatever he bakes in the back of the fridge for later.
—” Dex stops himself.
He shrugs again. “Maybe we could hang out sometime, just the two of us?”
Whiskey smirks in spite of himself. “Yea, I’d like that.”