Going for Gold
To @allmylittleflaws
From @effyeahzimbits
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Dex/Nursey
“Will you fucking quit typing? I’m trying to sleep here.”
Nursey glanced up from the white glare of his laptop screen. The plane was mostly in darkness, but he could see his teammate’s golden eyes glaring at him from across the aisle. They were surrounded by the soft snores of other members of the United States Men’s Hockey team, and none of them had been disturbed by the clacking of Nursey’s plastic keys. He was pretty sure Poindexter just had it in for him.
Nursey couldn’t blame him. Ever since that match a few months ago where the Rangers played the Islanders, the budding rivalry between the two teams exploded to new heights, and Poindexter seemed to carry that grudge off the ice too. Nursey still wasn’t entirely sure what had kicked it off - something about the Rangers’ goalie and a wayward puck sent by an Islander’s D-man. Either way, a fight of epic proportions ensued, resulting in both teams nearly sacrificing their entire benches to the sin bin.
Nursey had been on the other side of the rink at the time, but he soon pelted over to defend his goalie. He’d only gotten halfway when he was suddenly tackled by Poindexter and sent colliding with the ice. It was a defensive tactic used to keep the pair of them out of the scuffle, but it was enough to raise Nursey’s hackles. He only managed to throw a couple of haphazard punches to Poindexter’s face before he was being dragged away by an official and that was that.
Or so Nursey had thought. Fans of both teams expressed their delight at the spectacle all over social media, and it wasn’t long before videos of the match went viral. ESPN highlighted his little brawl with Poindexter, and before Nursey knew it, his Twitter account blew up with notifications. False stories about some feud between the two of them spread like wildfire across the Internet, even though Nursey had never even said two words to the guy. Still, it felt harmless enough to Nursey, and he even joined in on the fun a little, pinging a few chirpy tweets Poindexter’s way. The other D-man didn’t seem to appreciate it though, even going so far as to tell one reporter brave enough to ask about it that Nursey needed to “grow the fuck up and start playing decent hockey.”
Nursey took offence at that. He took pride in his game and loved playing for the Rangers. However, he was strongly urged by PR to refrain from retaliating and the spat was left as it was. The two teams weren’t due to meet for another month or two, but that was the least of Nursey’s concerns. Not long after the fight he’d received confirmation that he had been chosen to play for the United States in the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing. He’d been ecstatic, that was, until he saw the name of another defenceman on that list. William Poindexter.
He’d tried not to worry about it too much. That was easier said than done though when practice sessions finally rolled around. It was a tight team, containing top players from all over the country and captained by none other than Kent fucking Parson, and Nursey was honoured to be a part of it. But working with Poindexter was tough. There was none of the smoothness Nursey had with his defence partner at the Rangers. Poindexter seemed to play by his own agenda, working against Nursey rather than with him. No words were spoken between them, but Nursey could see the contempt in his partner’s eyes every time they passed each other. If nothing else, it at least brought out Nursey’s competitive streak and made him play harder. And they must have been doing something right, because the Coach had placed them on the starting line together.
And now came a couple of weeks of hardcore hockey with the possibility of medals resting on his broad shoulders. He was excited, genuinely over the moon crazy kind of excited. But he was also worried. He didn’t want this weird spat to affect his game, and he also didn’t want people to make out it was worse than it actually was. He never had anything against Poindexter before all of this kicked off, but if he wanted to cause trouble while they were out here representing their country, then Nursey wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen. But for now, he was going to keep his head down and play good hockey.
“I can’t sleep,” he murmured in response to Poindexter’s snapped words. “I never can on planes.”
“So do something else. I can’t sleep with that racket in my ear,” Poindexter argued, nodding towards the laptop.
“Put earphones in then or something,” Nursey suggested. He couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Poindexter’s tone was starting to get his back up.
“What are you even writing?” Poindexter demanded, leaning in his plush seat to try and get a glimpse of Nursey’s screen.
Nursey glowered and tilted it away from him, instantly on the defensive.
“None of your fucking business.”
“Are you writing poetry?” Poindexter asked in what definitely sounded like a sneer.
“I said it’s none of your fucking business!” Nursey snapped, slamming the laptop lid down harder than he meant to.
“Hey!” A voice thick with sleep called over from a few rows away. “Both of you cut it out or I’ll have you run burpees ‘til you puke.”
Nursey bristled. The Coach was pissed now, and it was all because Poindexter was too precious to try and sleep with a bit of noise. Nursey clenched his jaw and physically turned away from the other defenceman. If he had to look at his stupid freckly face any longer, he’d punch it. He folded his arms in a huff and glared out of the window instead. There wasn’t much to see except expanses of thick, fluffy dark clouds but he concentrated hard on them, counting the rare glimmers of stars that glinted through. Thankfully, he managed to fall asleep.
He didn’t know how, but he was signed up to share a room with Kent Parson. He’d met the guy once at a benefit before practices started, and other than a suave “hey how’re you doing?” (to which Nursey blushed and stammered over his words like a dork), they hadn’t spoken. At practice Nursey could say with confidence that Parson was a solid captain. He took initiative, looked out for his team members on the ice and got shit done. But off the ice and in a dorm room in the Olympic village? Nursey didn’t know what to expect.
“Hey. You wanna see pictures of my cat?”
Okay, so it wasn’t that. But hell fucking yes Nursey wanted to see pictures of Kent Parson’s cat. He huddled next to Parson on his squeaky, scratchy mattress and peered over his shoulder at his Instagram. The cat was a huge fluffball of a thing with massive green eyes and a sparkly collar. If it was pink it would probably look like candyfloss with ears. Nursey wasn’t usually a cat person, but he thought he’d make exceptions for that one.
Parson didn’t stick around long. After ten minutes of cooing over the cat pictures, he announced he was meeting a friend and sauntered off, the epitome of cool carelessness. Even the way his hair flopped seemed effortlessly nonchalant. Nursey thought he had wandered off in the direction of the Canadian athletes’ dorm, but he couldn’t be sure. As long as Parson was back before the game tomorrow, it really wasn’t any of his business.
The dorm room seemed depressingly empty after that. It wasn’t very inviting to begin with, and after half an hour the dull, beige walls and stark sheets were suffocating. He shoved his boots back on and stowed his laptop under his arm, hoping there would be somewhere with a decent Wi-Fi signal and a good cup of coffee he could hang out at until team dinner. Most of the guys on his team had announced plans to nap, and Nursey didn’t want to disturb them in the hopes of finding a companion. In the immortal words of his Rangers captain – never wake a sleeping hockey player.
The Village was huge. He wandered past buildings that all looked the same, half following the multi-lingual signs and half following other athletes. It was an icy February, and he was grateful for the thick, padded duffel coats they’d been provided with. He hoped they could keep all the clothes they’d been given. It was pretty awesome wandering around with “Team USA” embroidered on everything. His mom was keeping a scrapbook too and he knew she’d love the Team USA dressing robe folded up on his bed.
He turned a corner and halted in his tracks at the sight of the recreation centre domineering the horizon. Banners adorning its walls boasted a theatre and a cinema, plus sports halls and exercise facilities and even a spa. Making a mental note to check that out after dinner, he went on the hunt for coffee and Wi-Fi. It was like a maze inside. He bypassed the McDonalds and instead headed for the official athletes’ cafeteria.
It was already bustling with people, all of them prattling loudly over the sound of scraping chairs and clattering dishes. Nursey had to take a minute to absorb it all and stop himself from getting overwhelmed. Breathing in check, he strode into the crowd. He emerged clutching the biggest takeaway mug of coffee he could find and a slice of cake the nutritionist definitely wouldn’t have agreed with. It was a bit harder to find a table, but eventually he located an empty one in a quieter corner of the room.
He people watched and nibbled his cake while he waited for his laptop to load up. It was incredible really, seeing the sheer amount of people gathered to play a few sports. The atmosphere was electric though. Everyone was clearly super excited to be there and play for their countries. Inspired by their enthusiasm, Nursey’s hands were soon speeding over his keyboard.
“More poetry?”
Nursey’s fingers froze. Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, he raised his eyes to see Poindexter standing in front of him, clutching his own bucket of coffee. No cake though. He was wearing the same Team USA tracksuit they’d all been issued, but Nursey couldn’t help noticing just how well it seemed to sit on Poindexter’s broad shoulders.
“Blog post, actually,” Nursey replied, fighting to keep his voice cool. Poindexter’s tone hadn’t been snippy, but Nursey was still on the defensive.
“Oh. Cool.”
Nursey lifted a well-groomed eyebrow at him. Cool? Out of all the words that could have possibly tumbled out of Poindexter’s mouth, that certainly wasn’t what he expected. He wanted to document the entire Olympics process for his online blog to accompany his Instagram and Twitter reports, but he doubted it was anything Poindexter would be interested in.
Poindexter shrugged, and if Nursey didn’t know better, he could have sworn he saw the faint tint of a blush underneath those freckles.
“I saw your Twitter. You seem to write a lot.”
Nursey blinked. Was Poindexter actually attempting to have a conversation with him? It was a bit awkward with the other defenceman hovering over the table like that, but seeing how nervous he looked was kind of cute.
“Yeah. I majored in literature at college,” Nursey replied, taking a swallow of his coffee so he could do something with his hands. He couldn’t help bragging a bit. “Had a few poems and short stories published.”
“Oh. That’s awesome,” Poindexter replied, his voice quiet but sincere. “I uh, I did computer science. A bit different.”
Nursey nodded, managing a half smile. He was still a bit freaked out. Just this morning Poindexter had been snapping at him for typing and now he was striking up a conversation, albeit a slightly awkward one. Nursey didn’t quite know what to say to that though, and there was a minute or two of weird silence until Poindexter plucked up the courage to open his mouth again.
“I wanted to apologise. For this morning. I was tired, and a bit nervous, and took it out on you. So uh, yeah. Sorry.”
Well that was a turn up for the books. Poindexter was definitely blushing now, and Nursey wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that it was a good look on him. Still, Nursey wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and if Poindexter wanted to make peace then Nursey was going to take it.
“It’s okay. It’s my fault too. I should have been a bit more considerate.” Nursey gave him another smile that was a bit more genuine this time. Poindexter seemed to grasp the mutual apology by both hands and nodded eagerly, his stiff shoulders relaxing with relief.
“Okay. Cool. No problem. Well, I’ll uh, leave you to your writing then. And I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Nursey watched him retreat, still a little bit dazed about the whole thing. He wasn’t sure what had made the guy change his mind, but he wasn’t going to question it. Maybe all Poindexter needed was a cup of coffee and a couple of hours sleep. He hoped the wary truce would extend onto the ice too, but he’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out. Their first game was against the Chinese hosts in the early afternoon, and Nursey was keen to get his skates on and win some matches.
Dinner was a quiet affair. The whole team was still exhausted from their long plane trip and exploring the Village. Nursey spent it sat next to a couple of vets who seemed to take him under their wing. He was grateful for their dogged insight and listened avidly to their stories playing for the USA over the years. He couldn’t help his eyes drifting over to Poindexter from time to time, but the man kept his head down and ate in the corner. Nursey was starting to think he was just a quiet kind of guy.
After they’d eaten the team split up again. Parson was the first to suggest hanging out at the bar, proposing they met up with a few of the Canadian and Russian team members. Nursey found it a bit weird to think he’d be playing against a couple of guys from the Rangers who just happened to be Canadian. He could easily imagine all the chirps that were going to be shared back in their home locker room in a few weeks’ time.
He declined the offer in favour of hunting for the spa he’d seen advertised. He was a sucker for a good steam room and a massage and hoped a little swim might help him sleep well. He returned to his room a couple of hours later feeling sleepy and content. Parson wasn’t back yet, but Nursey didn’t expect him to be. He stripped to his underwear and climbed into bed, flicking off the lights as he went. His hair was still damp, and he teased the curls with his fingers as he squashed a yawn and scrolled through his phone all at the same time.
He’d published his first Olympic blog post earlier that day. It had already been liked and retweeted hundreds of times by his loyal fans and his mom. Since the whole Rangers v Islanders fiasco, he’d turned off his social media notifications, but he still liked peering through the comments and mentions. Occasionally he would come across a heartfelt message or something that would make him laugh and he liked letting fans know they’d touched him in some way.
He trawled through the well wishes and memes, liking a few tweets and responding to a couple. A little banner appeared on the top of his phone to let him know WillDex96 has liked his most recent tweet. Nursey paused. Poindexter never liked his tweets. And his most recent tweet was the link to his blog post. Before his brain could even process it properly, his phone pinged with a direct message.
WillDex96 I liked the coffee too
Well, that wasn’t much of a conversation starter. Nursey had barely even mentioned the coffee in his blog, but it meant more that Poindexter had actually read it. Nursey smiled to himself and settled into his cushions a little more. He hesitated over the keys, then thought fuck it.
DerekDoesDefence Do you want to grab one together after the game tomorrow?
It was a bold move, and Nursey wasn’t sure it was the right one, especially as it seemed to take Poindexter an age to reply. Nursey just knew that he liked Poindexter’s awkward yet endearing demeanour and wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little more off the ice. His attractiveness was just an added bonus. Just when he was about to give up hope, a reply popped into his inbox.
WillDex96 Yeah okay. See you tomorrow.
DerekDoesDefence Goodnight
He didn’t get a reply, but he didn’t really expect one after that. Poindexter seemed to be a man of few words. Nursey put his phone aside and settled down, curling up and pulling the sheets around him. He couldn’t help the big, cheesy grin. It wasn’t a date, but he felt like he always did when he’d arranged one. It was probably a bit silly to even consider these things with the Olympic games right on top of them, but the thought made him giddy nonetheless. He fell asleep thinking of freckles and auburn hair and big hands.
The game was incredible. Nursey couldn’t remember the finer details, but he remembered the fanatic roar of the crowd, the bite of wind on his cheeks, the burning in his lungs and his calves as he raced across the ice. Every player in both teams seemed wired, like they had caffeine in their veins as they powered through each period. Playing with the Rangers was one thing but playing for his country set his blood on fire.
They won. It was a tight match and China played incredibly well, but USA just seemed to dominate the punk that little bit more and it made all the difference. Nursey’s team left the arena elated, cheering with the fans and rough housing as they made their way back to the Village. Most of the team headed to the recreation centre to burn off energy. Nursey followed them, feeling giddy all over again. Poindexter walked beside him, though he only greeted him with a subtle nod.
The team went their separate ways inside. A few of them headed towards the sports halls while others went to the spa for a post-game massage. Nursey watched Parson spearhead a small group into the bar where he could see a few of the Russian hockey players. Parson seemed to be friends with everyone, and Nursey didn’t know how he had the energy for it all. He and Poindexter headed towards the cafeteria, which was a lot quieter than yesterday.
They were silent as they retrieved their coffee. Nursey was pulsing with pent up excitement, but he couldn’t bring himself to string a sentence together. Poindexter had looked damn good out on the ice. His flushed, freckled cheeks and determined brow had made Nursey’s knees weak. It felt a bit weird looking him in the face now. They managed to grab a table by one of the huge windows, and it was a while before either of them found the courage to say something.
“That was a good game,” Poindexter eventually said, dragging his eyes away from the plastic tabletop and onto Nursey’s face. The half grin he managed made Nursey’s stomach churn.
It had been an awesome game, and Nursey wasn’t sure how it had happened, but something had finally clicked between them. They had worked in tandem out on the ice, analysing each other’s movements and tactics to form an unpassable duo. Their breathless teammates had slapped them both on the shoulder with each successful blockade, and the coach had been singing their praises in the locker room. The budding partnership had left Nursey as ecstatic as the win had.
“Yeah, it was. I think we finally played well together, Poindexter,” Nursey grinned at him over his cup.
“Finally,” Poindexter agreed with a snort of amusement. “And call me Dex. Anything else just sounds a bit weird.”
Nursey hid his grin behind his cup. He was probably making more of it than necessary, but the permission to call Dex by his hockey nickname just proved they’d made some progress. Fuck, Nursey wanted to kiss him. He took a big swallow of coffee instead and burned his tongue.
“You think we have a decent shot?” He asked to mask his pained grimace.
“Too early to tell,” Dex replied with half a shrug. “Especially with Canada’s line up. Zimmermann’s been on fire lately.”
Nursey hummed his agreement and licked the foam off his latte, only just avoiding making a mess. He looked up to find Dex’s eyes on him, his face bearing an odd expression. He swallowed and looked away quickly, hoping he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d humiliated himself in front of a pretty boy. He scrambled for something to say.
“You read my blog,” he said after a moment, figuring that was a safe enough topic.
“Oh. Yeah. It was fun to read. I wanted to make sure you were telling the truth about everything,” Dex grinned.
Nursey blinked. Was Dex…flirting with him? Or was it just a chirp? Though he’d once heard somewhere that flirting and chirping were just variants of the same thing.
“Um. Yep. Total truth,” Nursey replied eloquently. “No lies here.”
Fuck, he was such a dork. It made Dex snicker though, and he counted that as a win.
“I uh, I ended up going through your stuff,” Dex admitted, his eyes flitting away to a poster announcing the daily specials. “I really liked it. Especially the articles you did for your college magazine.”
Nursey lifted an eyebrow at him and tilted his head slightly in confusion.
“Those are all about bi erasure and hetero bullshit in the locker room,” he said slowly. To his surprise, Dex blushed so hard even his ears went red.
“Um, yep. They uh, really resonated with me. Especially the…especially the bits on internalised homophobia.”
Oh.
Nursey wasn’t quite sure how he managed to keep his mouth shut and his face straight. It wasn’t quite an admission, but it was as good as. Following Jack Zimmermann’s epic reveal of his sexuality after the Providence Falconers’ Stanley Cup win three years ago, only a few other NHL players had been forthcoming with their own. Parson had been one of them, and Nursey had been open regarding his as soon as he was signed with the Rangers last year. Things weren’t perfect, far from it, but the sport had been making progress and that was good enough for him. He could understand Dex’s reasons for being tight-lipped though, and he took a minute to think of something that would affirm everything without being too direct, for Dex’s sake.
“Well I’m glad they helped some people. That’s what I wanted, you know? To help bring a little peace and support.”
Dex nodded and a silence fell between them again. Oddly enough it wasn’t awkward, and Nursey allowed his tentative friend the time to process it. He wondered if he should ask if Dex wanted to talk about it. It sounded like he had a couple of issues that caused a little friction and Nursey hoped he could shed light on a few things. Before he could open his mouth though, Dex looked up and caught his eyes.
The look Dex gave him made Nursey’s heart leap into his throat. There was a spark of something between them that wasn’t there before, a spark that made the hair on Nursey’s forearms stand on end. He swallowed slowly, his mouth suddenly dry. He wanted to do more than kiss him. For a long, agonising moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Nursey threw caution to the wind.
“Do you…want to come back to my room?”
Dex nodded so fast his neck creaked. Nursey’s face split into a huge grin, the arousal already pooling in his gut. He shot to his feet in an instant, knocking his coffee cup flying. The lukewarm liquid splattered the table and both their clothes like watery paint.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Nurse.”
Dex’s laugh was quiet but carefree and obviously entertained. He threw a wad of paper napkins over the puddle and left it at that, leading the way towards the dorms. Nursey scrambled to catch up, nearly tripping up over his own feet. He ached to grab his hand as they powerwalked out of the centre, but he held himself back. They bumped shoulders along the way and the heat from that alone tented Nursey’s loose tracksuit pants.
The sex was mind-blowing. It was messy and hot and frenzied and had Nursey howling like an animal. Dex was an attentive lover, his mouth and fingers desperate to explore every inch of him. Nursey learned more about Dex in those couple of hours than he had in the few days they’d known each other. It left him wanting to know more, wanting to know everything. They lay curled up in bed together afterwards, flushed, breathless and blinking away stars. Nursey was suddenly very grateful they both lived in New York. It made the possibility of finding out just what made William Poindexter tick all the more enticing.
“I think I’ll write a poem about this,” he announced, his voice loud in the thick, sex-laden air.
Dex smacked him with a pillow.