Hey so this is an Omgcp AU where there happens to be a Falcs vs. Sharks game on or around Chowder’s birthday and a certain former SMH Captain treats the gang to tickets. Or Something. >.>
Since @chowderweek is still reblogging posts, have some (really late) Chowder/Nursey for the family dinner prompt.
On AO3 here.
“Is it even cold there?” Nursey asks. Chowder watches through his computer screen as Nursey adjusts his beanie absently, squishing down more of his curls flat against his head.
Chris snorts, because they’ve played this game before. “I live in California” translates for Nursey into “I have never experienced a day of cold weather in my pre-Samwell life”, no matter how many times Chris reminds Nursey that he lives in the Bay Area, not LA.
“Of course it is,” Chris says. “It’s night, and I live in Northern California, Nurse.”
“Google says your average temps. are between 44 and 59 degrees Fahrenheit in December.” Nursey has said it so many times that he has the numbers memorized. It’s only a little bit embarrassing. “Your minimum temperature is our maximum temperature.”
“Cold is relative,” Chris reminds him. “Not all of us want our cities drowning in white stuff.”
“Nah man,” Nursey says. “If you think a single inch of snow in New York City is white, you’ve clearly never been there. It’s gross and dirty from the people and the cars within like. A day, tops.”
Chris cracks a smile at that, and when Nursey’s face breaks out into warm, self-satisfied grin, a wave of fondness floods Chris’ chest. His thoughts go in two directions at once. He can definitely picture Nursey grimacing at the tar-stained slushy snow, walking around in his hipster boots that look cool but definitely aren’t actually made for actual cold weather.
But he lingers longer on the mental image of Nursey walking through the streets of New York just as the snow falls, his breath fogging up the air and the green beanie that matches his eyes protecting his hair from the snow as he stares up at the sky and thinks about stuff like…
Chris doesn’t know, exactly. He’s never been able to imitate Nursey’s thought process, to capture the way Nursey’s words come out both thoughtful and also more concise than Chris has ever been in his entire life. Chris loves the quiet moments when Nursey shares his more pensive thoughts out loud; they’re few and far between, like Nursey was taught to keep everything locked up tight.
He probably was.
“So how has time with your family been going?” Chris asks, and it’s enough to get Nursey going. He talks about staying with his grandma for Christmas, and how his favorite cousin coming in town almost makes spending the holidays in the ‘burbs worth it. He talks about all the passive-aggressive extended family reminders that he should maybe consider a major that is more ‘economically feasible’ than English.
“Really, though, it’s been pretty nice,” Nursey says. “Everyone’s in one place. We don’t get that too often.”
Every time Nursey talks about his family, Chris can’t help but think how different it is from his own. Nursey’s family is huge and seems relatively warm, but everyone is so scattered geographically. People went away for school or moved for jobs or married out of the NYC area. Nursey has family in Chicago and family in Georgia and family in Florida and family in Connecticut, and getting them together in one place is a challenge and a half.
Chris has some family back in China, but not much; his grandmother went back home to take care of her sick mother not long after Chris was born, and even though she always says that she’s coming to see them around the Chinese New Year, Chris knows better than to believe it by now. And Nursey’s met all of Chris’ state-side family. Chris’ parents make every excuse they can to visit their alma mater, and Chris’ sister came up with them for freshman year parents’ weekend. When Chris finally told his parents he was dating Nursey, a few months into their relationship, they turned it into a whole big thing, insisting they take Nursey out to dinner to get to know him better.
They loved him, of course. They loved Nursey when he was just Chris’ friend, and they liked him even better when he survived the first boyfriend and parents dinner with flying colors.
Chris has met Nursey’s parents once, when they came to take Nursey to school freshman year. Chris didn’t really know Nursey very well then, and he spent most of orientation weekend with his own parents.
It isn’t anyone’s fault that he hasn’t gotten the chance to really meet Nursey’s parents, but it always tugs at the nerves in Chris’ gut a little bit more than he’d like, in a way he probably should’ve brought up before but has never been brave enough to.
“Maybe next year I can go up there with you, too,” Chris says, his voice tentative. “We’ve been together long enough for me to meet the family, right?”
“C,” Nursey says, his voice gentle. Chris is almost embarrassed by how soft it is, is almost embarrassed by how easily Nursey has picked up on the fact that he needs to be soft. “I would love that. My family would love that. Nana Nurse has asked about you twice already. If I hadn’t shown her all the pictures of us on my Facebook, she was gonna start running her mouth to the aunts and uncles that I was making you up.”
“All of the pictures on Facebook?” Chris asks, surprised.
“...Most of the pictures on Facebook,” Nursey amends, sheepishly. “But they all really want to meet you. I think they’d love you.”
Chris can feel his cheeks bursting with how wide he’s smiling, his braces on full display. “It would be really, really, really nice to stay with you in New York and to meet your family and to get to see your hometown. You can show me all the tourist traps and complain about the crowds of people who don’t know the basic rules of walking in a city.”
“I can have you eat your pizza the right way,” Nursey teases. “Folded over like a reasonable person.”
“I can bring a selfie stick and take a zillion pictures of everything we see, staring around wide-eyed like I’ve never seen tall buildings before,” Chris replies.
Nursey groans, and Chris knows he’s won. He laughs, relishing the victory for a second, before he settles back down.
“I think I’d love your family, too, you know,” Chris says, more seriously. “I wanted to be home as much of this winter break as I could, because it’s my sister’s last year before she heads off to college. Next year we’re going to have different schedules, with me coming back early for hockey and her applying mostly to schools on a quarter system. But… next Thanksgiving, or next Christmas….”
“Yeah,” Nursey agrees. “Next year we can have our first Thanksgiving together. Our own little family dinner.”
It sounds better than Chowder could have imagined.
