Jun 6, 2020
this is who i am now i guess i just poorly photoshop characters faces onto other screencaps that’s the whole blog (it isn’t i promise)
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this is who i am now i guess i just poorly photoshop characters faces onto other screencaps that’s the whole blog (it isn’t i promise)
Teenage Dream
From: @jeanjacketbittle
To: @redneterp
Rating: T
Tags: fake dating (sort of?), friends to lovers, valentine’s day
Summary: Ransom swoops in and saves Holster by telling someone that he is Holster’s Valentine’s Day date. Holster repays his bro for the save by actually taking him out on a Valentine’s Day date. It’s not a real date, though. It’s just a bro-date. Right?
A note to my valentine:
I’ve wanted to write Holsom forever because I love them so much, but I never found the right muse for it. Writing this fic for you pushed me to do it, and I am so glad!! I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!
“Adam?”
Holster’s head whipped to find Esther Shapiro, hand on her hips at the end of their booth at Annie’s.
“Esther, hey! Uh, what’s-”
“I thought you said you had plans?”
Holster gestured vaguely to Ransom and the coffees and pastries on the table between them.
“Plans that you couldn’t change to go on a Valentine’s date with me.”
“Oh. Well, uh...”
Ransom didn’t know what possessed him to say it, the thought hadn’t even stopped in his brain to check with him, just flew right out of his mouth. “Not that it’s your business, but this is a Valentine’s date.”
Ester rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Adam, if you hadn’t wanted to go out you should’ve just told me flat out instead of-”
“Plans on Valentine’s Day isn’t flat out enough?”
Esther blinked between them. Then, shockingly, she smiled. “Well, of all the people to blow me off for, I guess I’m glad it’s him.”
And then she left.
Holster looked at him, seemingly trying to blink the shock out of his eyes. “Bro, nice save. Thanks.”
Ransom chuckled. “C’yeah, well, you were floundering, and I didn’t want you to get dragged on a last-minute V-Date by Esther Shapiro.”
“You were right, I’d prefer a V-Date with you anyway.” Holster winked.
Ransom choked a little on his coffee. “Holtzy, I didn’t mean-”
Holster cut him off despite his mouth full of lemon cake. “Dude, are you about to no-homo me? We’re better than that.”
Ransom snorted. He was right, of course. They were way past no-homo both in their lives and in their friendship.
“So, what are we doing for phase 2 of our V-Date?”
“Holtz, we don’t have to.” His heart was beating a little faster in his chest.
“We were hanging out anyways, right?” Holster asked.
Ransom nodded.
“We can just tweak our plans a little, then. Oh!” Holster’s face lit up, and Ransom’s heart skipped a beat. "We could go to that new karaoke bar we’ve been wanting to go to. And then I’ll walk you home at the end of the night. Bam! Rans and Holster V-Date.” Holster explained.
It wasn’t like Ransom was surprised that Holster was so comfortable with this. They’d been best friends for three years. They did everything together and knew everything about each other. Including Holster’s new-found pansexuality.
It was stupid that it changed things. It shouldn’t, Ransom knew that. But it did. Because he was bi, and somehow he’d never even considered Holster in a more-than-bros way until Holster had come out to him and now it was all he could think about. It made things like a spur of the moment Valentine’s Day date fill his stomach with butterflies.
“Only if you want to, man. If you’d rather us have chips and Mario Kart like we planned that’s cool, too.” Holster assured him. He knew this was an out, and that he should take it. Holster really wouldn’t care either way, he knew that, but the look on his face when he’d thought of the karaoke bar…
“No, it sounds great. We should do it.” Ransom smiled, and Holster did an excited fist pump. “We do have to go back to the Haus and change, though. We are not dressed for karaoke.”
Holster let out a laugh. “Good call. I’ll get us some to-go cups.”
Ransom took a breath to get himself together once Holster was gone. He could do this. It wouldn’t be weird; it was just like any other night they spent together. It wasn’t a real date, after all. It was a friend date. A bro date. They’d literally been on bro-dates before. This was no different.
He stood up and cleared their table while Holster waited for their drinks. Ransom had a hold on himself again just in time for Holster to come back and hand him his tea. “Thanks,” Ransom said.
Holster smiled and they were on their way.
It was normal until Holster took Ransom’s free hand in his when they got outside Annie’s.
Ransom blinked at him, and Holster shrugged. “I always think February is going to be warmer than it is.” He explained, looking down at Ransom’s gloved hand in his.
“Gotta start using that weather app of yours, bro.” Ransom laughed.
Holster made an indignant sound. “When it’s been 15 degrees for a month and a half, 30 sounds like summer!”
Holster’s hand remained in his for the rest of the walk back, but it was easier after that. Holster had always been his tension diffuser, Ransom just hadn’t thought it would apply to situations where the tension was caused by Holster, too. It was a relief to find out he was wrong. Maybe he could do this after all.
Ransom had gotten ready for quite a few dates in his life, but he’d yet to get ready for one with the person he was going on the date with. He decided he liked it better, though, when Holster turned to him holding up two different shirts. Ransom couldn’t help but grin. “Dressing to impress, Holtzy?” he teased, pointing to one of the shirts.
“Don’t know why, you’re already coming home with me.” Holster smirked.
Ransom chuckled, turning back to his dresser to dig around for his own shirt so Holster wouldn’t see the flustered look on his face.
They split fare for the uber to the bar, and Holster talked Ransom into signing up for an act before eating anything.
They had a few drinks and watched the other acts while waiting for their turn, and Holster refused to tell him what song he’d signed them up for.
“Come on, Holtz, I need to prepare!” he protested.
Holster chuckled into his drink. “Trust me, you know the words. Besides, there’s no studying in karaoke. That’s the point, it’s just fun.”
Ransom sighed. “Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just…” Just what? He didn’t even know.
“It’s okay, Ransy-poo, dates make everyone nervous.” He said it so casually that Ransom just nodded, not fully absorbing. By the time it processed, Holster was smiling at him and taking his hand, and he knew he couldn’t say anything about it, not when Holster was pulling him up to the stage and someone was handing him a microphone.
Ransom took the stage next to Holster, who was grinning at him as if there wasn’t a bar full of people watching them.
He heard the familiar guitar start to play and Ransom couldn’t help laughing as there were a few cheers at the song choice from the crowd.
Holster began to sing Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream to him, and somehow despite his anxiety and nerves about the date, everything faded and there was only them, Ransom and Holster. It was his favorite way to be.
“Now every February, you’ll be my Valentine. Valentine,” Holster sang, and it was right to him, like a question, a confirmation, and Ransom grinned.
Holster took to the next lyrics more like he usually did- an absolute karaoke ham, performing now more than he had been before. And Ransom fed off of his energy, joining him enthusiastically for the chorus. They danced around each other and Ransom practically forgot they were on a stage until people cheered after they belted out the last notes.
They definitely weren’t the best that night, considering Holster was practically tone-deaf, but the bar-goers were loving them anyway and they were having a goddamn blast. It was like when they sang at Kegsters- off-key and energetic and giving a Ransom a feeling that he couldn’t describe even if you paid him, but he swears he could live off of it.
Holster hugged him once they got off the stage, and Ransom couldn’t wipe the grin off his face even if he wanted to.
They ordered dinner, finally, and enjoyed the other acts as they picked off of each other’s plates. It didn’t feel like any date Ransom had ever been on, but… that wasn’t a bad thing.
It definitely felt more date-like, though, when Holster reached across the table and took one of Ransom’s hands in his. He just played with it idly as he ate his food, rubbing his hand with his thumb, toying with his fingers. If Ransom couldn’t literally feel him doing it, he wouldn’t even have noticed. But he had, and his heart was fucking racing again, and he knew he should be trying to listen because Holster was mid-story about something that had happened in one of his classes but Ransom just couldn’t think about anything besides the thoughts using his brain as a fucking NASCAR track.
“Why did you tell Esther you had plans?” He interrupted.
Holster stopped talking and gave him a look, eyebrows knitted. “Because we had plans, dude. She asked me, like, two days ago.”
“I would’ve understood. You know that.” Ransom insisted.
Holster nodded. “Of course you would have, but I didn’t want to cancel. I wanted to be with you.”
Ransom blinked at him. Holster’s voice was like fucking velvet and he finally let himself think that maybe Holster meant that like he wanted him to. “Holtzy, is this a real date?”
“I’d like for it to be.” Holster grinned at him, and Ransom felt both excitement and relief spread through him.
He let out a sigh. “Me too,” he said, smiling back at Holster. His grip on Ransom’s hand tightened, and they just looked at each other for a few moments. “I really want to kiss you right now, but I hate those stupid separated-by-a-table kisses.” Ransom admitted.
Holster chuckled. “Same. Are you finished?” he asked, gesturing to Ransom’s plate.
Ransom looked down and found the plate empty except for a few fries stolen from Holster’s plate. Holster’s was in a similar state.
“Wanna sing again, or?” Ransom asked.
Holster smirked. “I mean, I always wanna sing, but we can come back another time.
“Agreed.”
They paid at the bar and went outside to wait for their uber. “How about that kiss?” Ransom asked as they waited. “There’s no table in our way now.”
“Not yet.” Holster said, “if I start now, I will not want to stop, and I don’t think our uber driver will appreciate us making out in the back seat.”
Ransom laughed and agreed. It was a relief, to find out that Holster wanted this as much as he did. That he wanted him.
Once they were back at the Haus, though, they practically raced to the attic. They knew they were the first ones home, since all the lights had been off and all their other Hausmates were out with plans of their own.
And it was there, in their shared attic bedroom that they had their first kiss. And second. And third. And Ransom thought maybe they might have every kiss ever here in this room in this moment because he never wanted it to end.
They ended up on the bottom bunk, just kissing and hands roaming over clothed chests and backs, but Ransom felt the need to clarify, for both their sakes. “Despite what we sang about earlier, I don’t think we should go all the way tonight.” Ransom said between kisses.
Holster chuckled and nodded. “Agreed, I don’t want to go too fast and fuck this up.”
Ransom grinned and kissed him. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
He moved his mouth down to Holster’s neck and began kissing there when the blond spoke up again. “Katy was right about one thing, though.”
Ransom looked down at him, eyebrows raised.
“You make me,” he did this strange mix of a whisper and singing, “feel like I’m living a teenage dream,”
They laughed softly into each other’s necks before finding their rhythm again.
The next morning they woke up to the alarm clock, that beeped a few times before turning to the radio.
Holster almost fell out of the bed laughing, and Ransom shot out an arm to catch him.
Teenage Dream was playing on the radio.
-
“So, that’s why Teenage Dream is our song.” Ransom finished.
Their friends were all sprawled around Jack and Bitty’s living room, smiling at him and Holster, their hands clasped together.
“That’s sweet, y’all. But as your wedding planner I just can’t let Teenage Dream be your wedding song.” Bitty protested.
Jack put his hand on Bitty’s, still chuckling. “Come on, Bits. Settle on this one. Aren’t you just happy they aren’t asking to sing it?”
There were groans around the room as Holster whipped his head to Ransom. “Can we?” he asked excitedly.
Ransom could feel the death glare Bitty was giving Jack without even looking their way. But really, he knew that’s what they’d do from the beginning. He knew it would dawn on Holster eventually, and that he’d look at him with that same sunlit smile that he was giving him right now, and that Ransom would do absolutely anything for Holster, especially if it made him smile like that.
“Of course.”
Holster cheered, and their friends laughed and chirped them, and Ransom could barely hear any of it because just like that night all those years ago, it was just him and Holster grinning at each other like idiots, and that was all that mattered.
of course (it’s us)
From: @willdexpoindexter
To: @crocophant
Giftee, I hope you love this! you said you loved bed sharing and mutual pining and boy did I chock this full of those.
Justin’s bed broke on a Tuesday morning.
He wasn’t even sure how it happened, but when he swung his legs over the side, the frame just split. Holster chirped him about breaking his bed in the most boring way possible but then offered to share his own. Justin made his excuses about using the couch and not putting him out, but Holster wouldn’t back down and he eventually caved to his best friend.
Holster had a queen mattress at Haus 2.0, and while it felt so much larger than the twin bunk Justin had sometimes shared with him at Samwell, it suddenly felt tiny when Justin joined him in it that night. Holster climbed in first, taking the spot by the wall and the air felt charged as Justin pulled back the covers and laid down.
“Thanks again, bro,” Justin mumbled as he nestled into his pillow beside Holster.
“Anytime, bro,” he whispered back. “I wasn’t gonna make you sleep on that couch. You don’t even fit on it.”
Justin didn’t know why Holster was whispering but it suddenly felt important not to break the silence.
“It’s different,” Justin answered in his own whisper, even as his body relaxed into the bed.
“‘S the same, Rans.” Holster reached out and pulled Justin into a loose cuddle. “Just two bros, cuddling. Let the cuddles happen.”
Justin smiled up at him and let himself be held, pushing down on the weirdness he was feeling for being in Holster’s bed. ‘It’s the same,’ he told himself.
Because the thing was, ever since they’d graduated and moved to Haus 2.0, Justin had been missing Holster. He had no reason to! They had bedrooms next door to each other and desks on the same floor at work. They commuted together, ate nearly every meal together, talked constantly. But at the end of the day, Holster went into his own room and Justin missed him.
There was just something wrong about not sharing a room with Holster anymore, and the more it bugged him, the more he retreated into himself and then felt bad for doing so since Holster hadn’t done anything! He just had to get his head straight.
His subconscious clearly had no qualms about being close to Holster, because the next morning, Justin woke up spooned around him. He took a deep breath and reveled in the feeling of Holster in his arms. ‘It’s the same,’ he told himself again.
Holster stirred and woke up, rolling so he was flat on his back and looking up at Justin.
“Morning, Holtzy.”
Holster smiled. “Hey, Rans. Sleep alright?”
“Yeah,” Justin answered with a soft smile. He couldn’t remember ever sleeping this well in this Haus, actually. And he’d slept in Holster’s bed before! After anxiety attacks or just stressful days, Justin often sought out a bro cuddle. But those nights, Justin was exhausted and never slept well. Last night though? Oh my God, he had slept so well it was kind of embarrassing. He swallowed it down. “You?”
“Yeah,” Holster answered with an easy smile. “We should get up.”
“You’re right but you shouldn’t say it.” Justin groaned as he hauled himself out of the cocoon of warmth.
Holster laughed and followed him out of bed. They got ready for work together as always but it felt different. Like they had been living in a different universe briefly in that bed and now he had to step out of it. Justin wanted nothing more to go back.
He pushed the thought from his head and pulled on his coat.
The day passed in a blur. A big pitch was coming up at work and Justin didn’t have any time to think about the latent feelings of the morning. By the time he collapsed into Holster’s bed that night after staying late and working until well past nine o’clock, Holster had just wrapped him up and held him close. He felt himself relax into the hold slowly and finally looked up at his best friend.
“Thanks, Holtz.”
“Rough day?”
He knew it had been, he was just giving Justin room to rant if he needed it. God, Holster knew him so well. “Yeah. I’m okay now, though.”
“I got your back,” Holster assured him with a smile.
“I didn’t have a chance to call the bed place,” Justin mumbled into Holster’s chest. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Don’t even worry about it, bro. It’s not like it’s some great hardship to cuddle you,” Holster chirped. His chest rumbled with laughter beneath Justin’s forehead and he grinned. He loved Holster so much.
Oh shit, did he love Holster? Was that what this was? The missing him from right next door, the ease of falling into his arms, the misery of not being by his side all day?
“Rans? You okay? You’re kinda weirding me out, bro.”
Justin took a deep breath, consciously relaxing his muscles and looked up.
“I’m okay,” he lied. Holster didn’t look like he believed him. He wasn’t yet, but he would be. “Just stressed, I guess.”
“What can I do?” Holster asked.
Justin shrugged. “I just wanna sleep I think.”
Holster nodded and nudged at his shoulder until Justin rolled over, then pulled him to his chest. “You’re little spoon tonight. That’s the rule for stressful days, Ransy.”
Justin chuckled as he let Holster hold him and hoped he would fall asleep quickly so Justin could worry in peace.
As Holster’s breathing evened out behind him, Justin let his mind wander. He felt so secure in Holster’s arms. He felt at peace here. He loved being held by Holster. He loved being with Holster. He missed him when he wasn’t around. He wanted nothing more than to stay in this bed forever.
He was in love with Holster.
The morning dawned bright and Justin woke to find himself laying on Holster’s chest. He had slept just as well after his realization as he had the night before, and it only made him feel more secure in himself. As with everything related to Holster, even things that should cause anxiety did the opposite. A small part of him thought he should be worried that he had fallen for his best friend, but it was Holster. Holster made him calm.
He looked up at Holster and found him looking down at him sleepily. The sunlight peeking through the curtain lit his hair in a fiery halo and Justin fought to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Even though he was secure in his realization, it wasn’t the time to share it.
“Morning, Rans,” Holster yawned, and Justin’s heart beat faster. Yep, this was happening.
Justin took a deep breath and decided to just let it happen. For too long, he’d been fighting this new (ish) urge to look at Holster, compliment him, touch him, hold him. He was gonna let himself do it.
“Hey, Holtzy,” Justin murmured, staring up at his best friend. He squeezed him a little where he was holding on and Holster smiled at him. “You ready to kick Thursday’s ass?”
“With you? Always.” Holster grinned.
They got up and seamlessly orbited around each other as they worked through their morning routines. Holster got dressed while Justin used the bathroom and then they switched. Justin started coffee while Holster threw bread in the toaster. Holster grabbed their jackets from the closet while Justin double checked both bags were zipped all the way and handed Holster’s to him in exchange for his jacket.
As they walked out the door, Justin let himself bumped into Holster’s arm playfully. Holster smiled over at him.
“You’re the best, Holtzy.”
“Pretty sure that’s you, Rans,” Holster nudged him back.
Justin’s heart soared and a new thought introduced itself: he could press up just a couple of inches and kiss Holster.
It wasn’t a scary thought. He almost expected it to be, such a big change from how he’d previously thought about his best friend. But that same calm settled over the new thought, too, and Justin just smiled. Soon.
Justin spent the rest of the day, through the commute and lunch together at work, through making dinner together with Shitty and Lardo, and through getting ready for bed, absolutely failing to keep his newly acquired heart-eyes to himself. The more he thought about Holster, the more he wanted to never stop thinking about Holster.
“The bed place is coming out Saturday morning,” he told Holster as they settled in for the night. He’d pushed aside thoughts of prolonging the forced bed-sharing and called the place he’d bought the bed from that afternoon. They assured him they would come out as soon as possible and replace the frame under his warranty.
“That’s good. Sucks that it broke so fast but at least they’re taking care of it.”
“Yeah,” Justin agreed. “This is nice, though. Getting to hang out with you more.”
Holster gave him an indulgent smile. “We hang out all the time, Rans.”
Justin just smiled back and shrugged. “Still nice.”
He’d come to the conclusion that he shouldn’t make a big deal about his feelings until after the bed was fixed. If it was weird, he needed to have somewhere to go. Not that he thought it would be weird! He had been basically flirting with Holster all day and he was pretty sure he was flirting right back. But his anxiety demanded a back-up plan. He’d know on Saturday.
Friday was absolutely lovely, as far as Justin was concerned.
He’d woken up to Holster spooning him again and he had basically refused to get up. They’d gotten seats on the train and been pressed into each other the whole ride. Justin let himself rest his head on Holster’s shoulder and Holster had responded by wrapping an arm around him.
“You can nap on me if you want, bro,” he’d said, tugging Justin flush to his side. Justin had grinned to himself and cuddled in.
At lunch, they’d been eating in the kitchen and a couple of coworkers invited them to a happy hour after work.
Holster had been loose with his affection at the happy hour, too, squeezing into a booth and dropping his arm over the back behind Justin.
“Not enough room for all of us,” he’d murmured in Justin’s ear. Justin had squeezed his knee beneath the table in silent thanks and chatted easily to Paul on his other side.
They’d gone home together and Justin had eagerly crawled into Holster’s bed.
“Ransy, it’s like eight o’clock.” Holster regarded him with a chuckle.
“Shut up and cuddle me,” Justin demanded, reaching out for him.
Holster laughed again, loud and free, before crawling into the bed.
“You good?” Holster asked, his voice suddenly serious after the big laugh he’d let out the moment before.
“Gonna miss this,” Justin admitted.
“You’re always welcome to come cuddle, Rans,” Holster promised, squeezing Justin tighter.
“Gonna hold you to that, Holtzy.” He let the silence sit for a moment before looking up at Holster. “You wanna watch some 30 Rock?”
“Only always,” Holster grinned, reaching for his laptop.
Justin let himself relax into the comfortable sound of Holster quoting half the episode to him as they lay in bed together. A small part of him was still wondering if Holster felt the same way, but curled around each other like this? It was them. It had always been them.
He woke up to his phone alarm. He didn’t remember falling asleep or setting the alarm, but of course Holster had his back.
“Gotta get up,” Holster grumbled. “Bed people in an hour.”
Justin chuckled and sat up. “I’ll make coffee.”
The installers worked quickly and his bed was fully functional again less than a half an hour after they’d arrived. He sat on the mattress and stared at the wall. He could tell Holster now, but he was suddenly nervous. Not about them, never about them. But about it not being enough. Holster deserved the world! He deserved to be wooed! Justin would have to come up with a plan and ask him out properly, not just kiss him the minute he could.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lost in his thoughts when a knock sounded on the doorframe to his room.
“All done?” Holster asked when Justin looked up.
He gestured to the bed lamely. “All done. Don’t gotta share your bed anymore.”
“You know you’re always welcome,” Holster said gently.
“I know.” Justin stood. “Let’s go out for lunch?”
“Okay,” Holster smiled, wrapping his arm around Justin’s shoulders as he came level with him and walking them out of the house.
By the bedtime, Justin still had no plan to woo Holster properly. Everything he thought of was too small for the bigness of his feelings. So he hugged his best friend goodnight and went to his own bed.
Where he laid awake and stared at their shared wall.
His bed felt too big without Holster to wrap himself around and too cold without Holster’s body heat and too quiet without Holster’s small snores. He tried to put it from his mind, clear it of anything and just drift away. He tried to firm up a plan to woo Holster properly.
Nothing worked.
Justin grabbed his phone and checked the time. Nearly two. He was never going to sleep without Holster. Maybe he could just slip into his bed and Holster would accept the cuddle. He decided to go for it.
Justin swung his legs over the side of his newly fixed bedframe and froze as a soft knock sounded at his door. He crossed to the door and opened it.
“Hi,” Holster said shyly.
“I can’t sleep either,” Justin replied. “Get in here.”
Holster’s face split into a giant grin and he climbed into Justin’s bed with him, wrapping around Justin and humming happily.
“Night, Ransom.”
“Night, Holster.”
Justin’s eyes slipped shut and he fell asleep almost immediately.
As had been the case for the last four days, Justin woke up first. As he looked at his sleeping best friend, he realized there didn’t need to be some grand gesture. Things between them were simple, they always had been. They understood each other like that. Besides, Justin had been wooed by this ridiculous man long ago, who’s to say it wasn’t the same for Holster?
“Hey Holtzy?”
Holster blinked awake and smiled shyly at Justin.
“Can I say something? It’s kind of scary, but just… hear me out. I think you should know.”
Holster suddenly looked a lot more awake and grabbed for Justin’s hand. “You’re scaring me, Rans. You know you can tell me anything.”
Justin gave a smile he hoped was reassuring and took a deep breath. “I can’t sleep without you. It was only four days, but I can’t do it. And I need to tell you why. Because I never want to sleep without you again. I’m in love with you, Adam.”
“Oh.” Adam blinked.
Justin gave him a moment to process, squeezing his hand.
“You are?” Adam asked.
“Yeah,” Justin said. He was trying so hard not to be nervous but now that it was out in the open and Adam hadn’t said anything he was starting to worry.
“Since when?” Adam asked at last, his voice cracking slightly.
“I, um, I don’t really know. But I realized it this week.”
“And, uh, what do you wanna do about it?”
Justin laughed, of course this was the one time Adam couldn’t read his mind. “I had hoped to kiss you at some point,” he chirped. “Maybe be your boyfriend if you wanted?”
Adam’s cheeks flushed pink and he nodded fervently.
“Do you have anything you want to share before that happens?” Justin prompted, cupping his free hand to Adam’s cheek.
“God, of course I want to be your boyfriend, Justin! I love you, too; I’ve loved you for so long.” He reached out his free hand to wrap around Justin and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Fireworks burst behind Justin’s eyes.
This was nothing like that time they’d made out at a kegster as frogs, all sloppy and drunk and inexperienced. This was the kiss of a couple in love, who had always been in love and would always be in love.
He melted into the kiss as he slid his hand into Adam’s hair.
They fit together like puzzle pieces because of course they did. They were Ransom and Holster. Justin and Adam. Insta-friends and forever partners.
Boyfriends.
Of course they were.
Are you partners?
From: @redneterp
For: @jeanjacketbittle
I hope this little story of these giant boys brings you joy!
Rating: T | Pairing: Ransom/Holster| Content warning: injury
When Holster is injured during a hockey game, Ransom is by his side every step of the way (literally), and realizes he has Feelings for his bro. Will those feelings be reciprocated? Will Holster be able to return to the ice? Read on to see how the original D-men Best Bros navigate these unexpected questions.
Friday Feb 12th 2016.
Samwell vs Harvard.
Four minutes remaining in the third period with the game tied 2-2.
Ransom put on a burst of speed to pressure Harvard’s right winger towards the boards, but at the last moment the guy dumped the puck behind the net. Still marking his man, Ransom spun just in time to see Holster rushing back for the loose puck. There was a flurry of sticks and limbs, and then somehow Holster was down and sliding towards the goal at great speed. Fuck, did that asshole right winger trip Holzy? Wait, did he hit the post? Shit, he’s not getting up.
Somewhere in the confusion, Chowder managed to get a glove on the puck on the far side of the crease, and the ref whistled the stoppage in play. Abandoning his mark, Ransom rushed to the goal, dropping to one knee at Holster’s side.
“Holtzy? Bro, are you ok?”
Holster was curled up on his side, stick abandoned, nearly in a fetal position with his right skate still within the goal. He groaned as he turned to face Ransom, his face a ghostly shade of white under the arena lights. “Uggh, fuck, my knee,” he moaned, clutching the joint with his still-gloved hands.
“Shit, did you go knee-first into the post?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“Fuck… Can you move it?” Ransom asked.
Holster tried, shifting his skate an inch or two on the ice, with a wince of pain. “Not really.”
By then the trainers had arrived, sliding across the ice on their shoes, confirmed that Holster hadn’t injured his head or spine, and gave permission for him to try and get up. Holster slowly got up, bracing himself on Ransom, but wasn’t able to put weight on that right leg. He balanced on his left, arms wrapped around Ransom and Whiskey’s shoulders as they carefully skated him over to the bench, where the trainers took over helping him down the hallway. Ransom was tempted to follow him, but a raised eyebrow from Coach Hall reminded him there was still a game to play. While he’d been occupied the ref had sent the asshole winger off with a major for hooking, and Samwell’s power play lines were about to hit the ice.
Moments later, the final buzzer sounded. Bitty had scored on the power play off an assist from Ransom, handing Samwell the victory. Their celebration, however, was muted out of concern for their teammate. As soon as the handshakes were over, Ransom made a beeline for the dressing room, where he tugged off his skates before rushing to the trainers’ room still wearing the rest of his gear. He arrived to find Holster sitting on the bed, stripped down to his UnderArmor with icepacks on his knee, which was visibly swollen. He grabbed Holster’s shoulders in a hug, careful not to jostle his leg. As he was checking in with his bro, Chowder arrived sans leg pads and skates, radiating concern and apologizing on behalf of the goal.
“Wait,” Ransom interjected. “C, you’re not responsible for the goalpost being where it’s always been, blame this on the fucker who tripped him.”
“Yeah, C, you may be one with the posts during the game, but this was 100% not your fault, bro,” Holster confirmed.
“Ok,” Chowder eventually agreed, “but anything I can do to help you, anything at all, you just say the word.”
And with that, trainer Sara shoo-ed them out, sending the back to the dressing room to shower and change with promises they could return after she’d finished examining Holster’s knee.
_X_
Two and a half hours later, Holster slowly made his way up the Haus’ staircase. One arm was slung around Ransom’s shoulder as he half-lifted Holster up the stairs, and Chowder followed one step behind, one hand on Holster’s back for balance. A trip to the small local hospital allowed for X-rays that had shown no fractures, so the team doctor had arranged for an MRI in the city the next day.
Once they reached the first floor landing they paused for rest and the bathroom (“Bro, once we’re in the attic we’re not coming all the way back down for you to brush your giant teeth, do it now.”), before continuing their awkward hop-shuffle up to the attic. With Holster safely perched on the lower bunk, Chowder ran back downstairs promising to get some of Bitty’s after-game peanut butter cookies for Holster as Ransom helped him tug off his tracksuit and prop his leg on a pillow. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but Holster still winced with the movement.
Shortly thereafter, cookies eaten and contacts out, Holster decided to call it a night, and Ransom helped him settle back on the bed. Once the pillows supporting the injured knee were arranged to his liking he turned to go, but was stopped by Holster’s hand grabbing his wrist.
“Stay?” Holster asked.
“Sure, if that’s what you want bro, let me just get the lights,” Ransom replied, doing so before carefully settling on his side beside Holster, whose injured knee was safely up against the wall.
They laid there for several moments, quietly breathing in the dark, before Holster finally spoke in an uncharacteristic near-whisper. “What if this is it? What if I blew my ACL, and I’m out for the rest of the season? This is our senior year, so what if this is it for me, no more hockey? I’m not ready for it to be over, I thought we still had another month at least, then the playoffs.”
Ransom couldn’t deny that similar thoughts had been racing through his anxious brain. He knew enough not to belittle his bro; knee injuries were the bane of hockey players’ careers. Taking a deep breath, he put his hand on Holster’s arm and tried to make his voice as reassuring as possible as he answered. “No matter what, I’ll be here with you, bro, we’ll figure it out together.”
“Thanks, dude,” Holster whispered before drifting off to sleep with an assist from the pain meds he’d received from the doc.
Ransom laid awake much longer, realizing that what he’d said was the absolute truth. Holster was the most important person in his life. As he laid there, tucked in next to him on a too-small bunk bed, he finally asked himself what Holster meant to him. He allowed himself to think of their past and future, and finally admitted to himself that his feelings could be romantic love, not just best-bro-love. The realization brought peace to his mind, and he followed Holster into sleep imagining a future together.
_X_
The next morning, Matt the trainer arrived bright and early to drive Holster to the city for his MRI, and was unsurprised that Ransom planned to join them. The Saturday morning traffic was light, and they made it to the hospital with time to spare. Holster’s knee was still sore, and he didn’t protest being directed into a wheelchair for Ransom to push him through the maze of hallways to diagnostic imaging. Registration completed, the clerk directed them to the changing room. “Are you Adam’s partner?” he asked.
Ransom confirmed that he was, and was allowed to stay. Squeezed into the tiny changing room outside the imaging suite, Ransom helped Holster into a hospital gown that was way too short for his giant d-man self, barely reaching his mid thighs. After removing the tensor bandages to reveal the knee that was still giant and red, they sat to wait again.
“You know,” Holster began, “I think they were asking if you were my partner-partner, not my D-partner.”
Ransom looked into Holster’s eyes. Time for full honesty. “I’d be your partner in every way, if you’d have me.”
“Really?” Holster asked, eyes wide.
“Yeah.”
Before Holster could reply, a technician stepped into the hallway. “Adam Birkholtz? Time to come on in,” she said as she propped open the door so he could wheel himself through. “You can wait back out in the waiting room,” she instructed Ransom, “it’ll take a while.”
Forty-five minutes.
That’s how long Ransom sat in the waiting room as Holster’s knee was being imaged, worrying alternately about what the MRI would find, and what Holster thought of his declaration of feelings. He wanted to pace, but kept himself in the seat next to Matt, knee jiggling. Had he really ruined everything with his bro? He hoped not, but …
Finally, Holster emerged from the back, still in the hospital gown but with a blanket over his lap. Matt directed them through the hospital to a clinic room where the knee specialist would see them. As they walked, Matt explained how the Samwell team doc had sweet-talked the radiologist and the orthopedic surgeon into be available on the weekend to urgently read the MRI and examine Holster, respectively. Once in the room Holster made it onto the small exam bed with a bit of help, leg stretched out in front of him, Ransom standing at his side. Matt stood at the doorway, keeping an eye out for Dr Wong, so Holster spoke quietly.
“Hey Justin?” he asked, reaching out his hand to softly touch Ransom’s hand. “I’d have you. I mean, I want that.”
“Partners?” Ransom asked.
“Partners. Dating. Whatever, so long as it’s with you.”
“Sap,” Ransom said, but still slid his hand to intertwine their fingers.
Minutes later, Dr Wong bustled into the room, followed by an exhausted-looking resident. After asking a few questions, they thoroughly examined Holster’s knee, poking, bending and twisting it as he grimaced and squeezed Ransom’s hand.
“Ok, I think we have good news for you, Adam. I’ve reviewed your MRI with Dr Chadra, and both the MRI and our exam now don’t show any evidence of a ligament injury. It seems you sustained a direct force to the front of the joint, and while your gear protected the patella from fracture, the impact was enough to cause bleeding within the bursa in front of the patella,” he explained, pulling up diagrams on his phone to demonstrate. “With the basics - ice, anti-inflammatories and rehab - I think you could be back on the ice in 2-3 weeks. Although that means you’ll be back in time to face off against my alma mater, BC, so maybe I should make you wait another week?” he finished with a laugh.
And with that, after a few specific instructions from the doc to Matt about the rehab plan and follow-up appointments, they were free to go.
Ransom and Holster settled on a bench outside the entranceway as they waited for Matt who’d run to get the car. It was nearing noon, and the sun was out, a warm enough day for boys from Toronto and Buffalo to sit outdoors. As they waited, leaning together shoulder-to-shoulder, they chatted about the remainder of the season, and the chance that Holster could be back in time for the ECAC tournament playoffs. As they discussed the logistics of getting around campus on crutches, Ransom pulled out his phone to confirm Holster’s schedule and his eye caught on the date.
“Bro, tomorrow’s Valentines day. I should ... can I take you on a date? I’ll need to get back to you on the details, once I figure out where I can take you while on crutches, that hasn’t been reserved for weeks.”
“Such a romantic sap. Yes, you can take me anywhere, anytime,” Holster said with an atrocious waggle of his giant eyebrows.
“Dork.”
“And yet you still want to date me.”
“I do,” Ransom confirmed.
“Well good, because I want to date you too. In fact, I think this is the perfect moment for a first kiss, don’t you?”
“Are you seriously imagining our lives as one of your romcoms right now?”
“Stop fighting it and kiss me, bro,” Holster insisted, leaning even closer.
And so Ransom did just that. Tilting his head to avoid Holster’s glasses, he pressed his lips to Holster’s in a soft kiss, before pulling back to see the giant grin on Holster’s face that surely matched his own. Leaning in again, his hand came up to Holster’s face, fingertips brushing against the day-old stubble he found there as he deepened the kiss.
The moment (and it really was an epic, screen-worthy, moment, Ransom had to admit) was interrupted by a brief toot of a horn. Matt had arrived with his car. Once the passenger seat was pushed forward as far as it would go, Holster slowly slid into the backseat, leg partially-extended in front of him. Ransom jogged around the car to slide into the backseat next to him, pressed up close against his best bro-now-date, fingers intertwined.
Ransom was a planner, and this wasn’t at all in his plans when he woke up the day prior, but he realized there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He was with his favourite person, and they’d figure it all out -- Valentines, hockey, romance, life after Samwell -- together.
A year with you
From: @hockeysometimes
To: @motoroilfanta
Summary: 5 times holster and ransom kissed and the first time it meant something.
Rating: M [language, moderate drinking mention, vague reference to sex]
Hi!! i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. i love these boys so much! happy valentines!!
December 31st 2015
The bass of some remix of The Weeknd was way too loud in Holsters ears as he walks past the swish stereo system that the hotel had set up for the New Years party they were putting on. It was packed, not a single person was sitting down, everyone was up on the make-shift dance floor in the ballroom . He was significantly more sober than he would like to be since he was still underage until later in the New Year and you can only pre game so much from the lousy bits of booze they had left over from the pre christmas break kegster.
A hotel was not where Holster was expecting to be for New Years Eve but when the team made it into a new year’s day tournament he had to head back to Samwell early from christmas break on the 27th to get some practice in. For him it’s not as bad because at least he’s in the states but Ransom had to fly back from Toronto on Boxing Day and showed up to the Haus alone and turn the heat back on for everyone else coming the next day.
Rans who he was looking for in the sea of party goers, he had been wheeling some girl the last time he saw him but had left to try and swipe some more booze and now he has a full plastic champagne glass that he’s trying to remember to not crush in his kind of clumsy hands. He’s trying to scrunch his glasses up his nose when he feels a hand on his back and a voice yelling in his ear.
“Bro! There you are!” It was Ransom, Holster turned around and there were Rans, without the girl he was wheeling.
“I was trying to find you and uh what was’er name? Alicia? Thought i was going to be booted from the room” He says and Rans starts shaking his head.
“Nah bro turns out she’s totally cuffed anyways, any luck finding that midnight kiss?” Ransom chides, eyebrows raised in a chirp. They had both been trying to find someone to kiss at midnight, because like how lame would it be to not have someone, but from their excellent wing men routine, everyone there was either hooking up with someone else there, part of SMH or married couples and then there was them.
Holster snorts a laugh and takes a sip of the champagne in his hands, feeling the bubbles burn down his throat. Ransom takes that as a no and they check their watches almost in sync. 11:55pm, no way either of them were going to find someone in under 5 minutes. Holster cant lie, he’s almost glad neither of them found someone, it pleases the part of his brain that he doesnt think about; the part that wants Ransom a little more than a guy should want his D-partner/ Co-Captain.
He’s resolved himself to not kissing anyone at this point and he’s kind of lost in the sauce of it all when something Ransom says yanks him out of his head like he’s just been checked into the boards .
“....kissed each other” is all holster hears over the ringing in his ears, completely sure he hadn’t heard him right.
“Bro, what? I couldnt hear you over the music” He says and he’s trying to sound chill but if he heard right, he heard,
“What if we just kissed each other?” Ransom says like it’s really no big deal, sure both of them have openly hooked up with dudes before and that’s not the problem, holster is secure in his bisexuality but outside of some cuddling and bed sharing at roadies,,, they’ve never actually kissed before.
Holster takes a second but the chants of the countdown to midnight had started and he’s sweating and kind of nervous and he’s not sure what to say except when the chants hit two he grabs Ransoms face and plants a kiss on him as everyone around them cheers for the New Year. It’s soft and fast and just long enough for Holster to taste the cherry schnapps that Ransom pregamed with still on his lips. It's too much and not enough as they part and Holster pours the champagne left in his glass down his throat.
February 13th 2016
The NYE kiss gets swept under the rug and never talked about again. They went back to their room and Holster fully expected to have some heart moving conversation but Ransom got ready and went to bed like they usually would. Holster hasn’t thought about the kiss. Not at all, ever. He hasn’t thought about how badly he wants it to happen again and how much he liked the feeling of it. Never had he thought of that. If it was any other guy, he totally would of but,, this is Ransom. He can’t pine for him, it just, it doesn’t work. They’re bros, that’s it.
And now, it’s the day before Valentines day and he had somehow been talked into the idea of dressing up like cupid by said bro.
Holster adjusts the strap of his repurposed toga from their last greek party and turns in the mirror to check out the red angel wings. He was in the bathroom for a quiet moment, the music was way too sensual for someone who was as alone as him and he was having zero luck with the ladies that night, or really anyone for that matter. He totally fizzed out of a conversation with one of the soccer players who he’s hooked up with before and lost his chance there.
He hasn’t actually hooked up in a Long Time; at least way before he kissed Rans. He tries to tell himself that he’s just off his game, and everyones settled up for Valentines anyways, [not that he’s in love with Ransom ,that’s ridiculous]
He leaves the bathroom and heads back into the party, searching the crowd once again for his wingman. He swings by the kitchen for some cinnamon heart infused tub juice that was going down way easier than it should.
He takes his solo cup and heads up the stairs to see if maybe Rans was hiding up there, he does that sometimes. He peeks his head into Chow’s room since the door was open and finds a group of people sitting on the floor- one toga’d Ransom included. Holster shrugs and steps in to, slipping around to the opposite of the circle than Ransom, who grins when he sees him. Holster takes in the empty beer bottle in the middle of the floor and everyone gathered around it and has high school flashbacks.
“Are you guys seriously playing spin the bottle?” he manages to spit out before doubling over in laughter, nearly sloshing his drink out of the cup.
“Holtzy! This is a serious game of nostaliga, shut up sit down and spin the motha fuckin bottle bro,” Ransom says and of course Holster sits down, carful of his toga skirt and with a grieving sigh, spins the bottle, praying it doesnt land on Chowder. In his blind panic of potentially kissing chow, it doesn't hit him that he could also kiss Ransom again but that’s a 1 in 9 chance, 11.1111% probability his econ brain manages to tell him. Probability is not in his favour as the bottle finishes it spin and lands, very definitely in front of Ransom. There’s an awkward pause in the room and Chowder speaks up.
“You guys don’t have to-” it's almost too little too late as Holster folds onto his hands and knees over the bottle and sloppily kisses Ransom, pushing his mouth against the soft pouty lips he’s thought about everyday since the last time they kissed. It’s entirely too short for Holster, as they pull away and he sits back down, flattening his cupid costume out.
“That’s how you do it folks,”
March 26th 2016
“Alexei Fucking Mashkov is downstairs in Our Haus Holtzy.” Ransom says, full fetal position on the floor, Holster is trying his damn best to be the comforting best friend he always is when Rans is going through it but,, his own feelings about the situation may be clouding over his want to help.
It’s Easter or Keagster weekend on top of Ransoms 21st birthday the next day, but Haus rules say no parties on a holy sunday or some shit so they’re celebrating early, or they should be but instead, Holster is sat with his BLL on the floor trying to rub Ransoms back as he has a level 10 freak out about the fact that Jack brought along his ultimate man crush to the party.
Holsters only a little jealous, he totally doesn't think about how he Knows that Rans has gotten off thinking about Tater before and has talked in detail about how he would totally go for it if it were available to him. Nope, Holster doesnt think about it.
“I know bro, i was in the kitchen when he got here. It’s like fine, he’s a really lowkey dude.” Holster tries to reason, trying his best to just be there and not be a total ass. He takes a sip of his drink, “Just come down stairs and we can play some pong and get you laid for your birthday,” He continues, his stomach twisting a little as he says the last part.
Ransom sort of uncoils and stretches out, propping himself up on one hand, thinking, Holster can see he’s starting to come down a little bit. “Getting laid would be pretty nice,” Rans says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Holster has to stop himself from rolling his eyes and instead snorts out some kind of laugh.
“Ch’eah exactly, but you aren’t going to catch anyone up in your room avoiding everyone.” Holster says, he stands up, taking his drink with him and offering Rans a hand up, which he takes.
They’re face to face when he stands up and Holster grins, looking at the face he knows so well. Smooth skin and lines where dimples sit.
“Not to get soft on you but, thanks Holtzy, don't know what i’d do without you.” Rans says and leans forwards presses the most confusing and gentle kiss on Holsters cheek before continuing out the room with a holler of “BIRTHDAY BOY INCOMING” down the attic stairs, leaving Holster frozen in his spot, clutching his beer and trying to understand what the fuck just happened
October 31st 2016
Once again in costume, this time too tight spandex of a Superman costume that was definitely in a size too small,Holster sighs as he watches Ransom try to pick up a guy dressed likePoe from Star Wars. This halloween party at the bar in Boston they frequented since grad was both the best and worst thing to happen to Holster.
The pros were he got to see Ransom dressed up as Batman and that shit is a sight. The black spandex hugs everywhere just so and it’s all Holster has to not… stare or look too long. Over the summer of graduating and moving in with Ransom, Holster may have come to a realization with his feelings.
The cons were, He was, without a doubt, in love with Rans and it kind of killed him. He knew they’d never really be more than bros, even when Rans would come into his room across the hall at night cause he couldn’t sleep without him or when Rans would take pieces of his clothes just to have. It was all too close to coupley for him, and then the matching costumes that Ransom had picked up for them for this party. And now he has to stand and watch him pull out all the stops for this gorgeous oscar isaac wannabe asshole stealing all of Ransoms attention. He stands against the bar and kind of hangs out, just vibing to the music and finishes his drink and decides to see how Ransom was doing, they had moved a little further closer to the dance floor since he last looked.
“Oh! Bro, there you are” Ransom says upon catching sight of him, Holster nods and keeps a tight smile as he looks over Poe maybe a little more judgey than he wants to be. “This is Evan! He works for the Bruins, we’ve been talking about last years ‘yoffs,” He yells and Holster shakes his hand. They’ve been talking about.. Hockey? The guys been giving Ransom ‘Fuck Me’ eyes for the past twenty minutes, and theyve been talking about hockey
“Adam,nice to meet you!” Holster says, fully fucking confused. The three of them talk for a bit just about the teams until Evan offers to get drink refills and heads back to the bar and the two of them are left alone.
“So are you getting some of that galactic ass?” He chirps and Ransom rolls his eyes.
“That was a bad joke and you know it bro and oh no i'm pretty sure he’s straight, besides i'm not gonna pick up cause im with you? Be kind of a douche move.” Ransom explains and Holster snorts.
“Bro, he’s totally into you, trust me. You’re looking like a whole snack tonight.” He says and he’s teetering un bro like compliments but he’s a little drunk and doesn't care at this point. Shoot your shot 2k16.
“A whole snack!” Ransom laughs and then pauses. “You think so?” He kind of flexes and the spandex contracts in a kind of beautiful way and holsters brain has to fire on all cylinders to not say something stupid and horny.
“Dude i know so,” He pauses and then grabs Ransoms face, half covered by a batman mask and gives him a peck of a kiss before stepping back. “I think i'm gonna uber home but, be safe and just let me know when you get in.” Holster says and Ransom is kind of unreadable but he nods and Holster disappears into the crowd without another word.
Ransom doesn’t bring anyone home and crawls into Holsters bed at 3 am, way drunker than he was when Holster left him and mumbling something Holster couldn’t entirely make out .
December 22nd 2016
They were late to the Christmas get together for SMH and for once it wasn’t Holsters fault.
Following his exit on halloween and Ransom passing out, koaled around him when he got home, things were a little weird. They were still their normal dynamic but something had shifted, there was something un-said between them that Holster couldn’t place. Of course other than his own unrequited feelings which were boiling to a fever pitch as they worked together and things got more and more awkward. Ransom hadn’t brought anyone home since that night either, and was climbing into Holsters bed more and more often
. Holster was kind of moody and didn’t want to parade around at the SMH party like everything was okay and Ransom could tell. They were a silent block out from the venue and Ransom stops.
“Adam, I think we need to talk.” Ransom says and Holsters stomach feels like it drops out of his body. Adam? Adam? He hasn’t been real named by Ransom in, Years.
“Oh, okay, is uh everything okay?” Holster asks and he can feel his hands start to sweat in his pockets.
Ransom won't look at him and it makes him feel, Horrible. “I don’t know, maybe i'm reading too far into things but are you angry at me?” He asks and Holster frowns but shakes his head ‘no’.
“Rans, why would you think i was mad at you?” He asks and Ransom continues to not look at him.
“Things have been, so weird lately and it’s so hard to read you and-” Holster acts before the thinks and cuts him off, with the most bruising kiss. He kisses him and Ransom takes a minute but he kisses him back and they’re kissing under the garland decorating the streets and Ransoms hands are holding his face and they’re so close.
“I love you Justin. I’ve been in love with you since last new years and it’s been so much for me to contain. I’m sorry for seeming like I was angry.” He says and the emotion is making tears run to his eyes. He’s always been more sensitive.
Ransom is quiet for a second and the smallest smile comes to his face, “Bro, only last new years? I’ve been in love with you since I met you, it’s always been you.”
Holster wraps his arms all tight around Ransom and cant help the squeeze he gives him.
They carry on eventually and both decide that a very long conversation was due but the group chat blowing up about them delaying festivities was getting unbearable.
1
December 31st 2016
The bass of Closer by Halsey and The Chainsmokers pulses loud through the speaker of the New Years Party one of Holsters coworkers was throwing. Once again searching the crowd for Ransom, but this time with champagne flutes for both of them. The clock was nearly at midnight.
“Holtzy! Babe over here,” he hears and swings his head to the left, Ransom was standing by himself closer to the outskirts of the party. He had been talking to Holsters friend Jermey and his wife Lilly.
He passes one of the flutes to Ransom and smiles, sneaking a peak at his watch. 11:59pm. He gets closer to him, tucking themselves into the wall space as the crowd gets louder in chanting the countdown.
There was no need to search for that midnight kiss, it was standing in front of him, like it always had been.
10...9...8..7… he leans in closer to Ransom, ghosting his lips over the jaw and cheeks and nose he’s gotten to love up front in the past two weeks...6...5...4...3...2...1 and they kiss and it’s like the first time again, cherry schnapps and all.
Do It for Petunia
From: @rhysiana
To: @zim-tits
Message: Hey, zim-tits, here’s a Holsom AU for you! It didn’t turn out quite as silly as I initially thought, but hopefully the inclusion of a cute dog helps make up for it. <3
Holster pulled into the parking lot of the animal shelter feeling confident. Resolute. He’d been thinking about his decision ever since he’d gotten the email about the adoption event for volunteers, giving them a chance to officially adopt a particular animal they might have bonded with before the big summer adoption drive started, and he was sure. He was going to adopt Petunia. She was his best girl, after all.
“Hey, Cait,” he said cheerfully to the normal front desk attendant, and she smiled back at him, but her eyes went wide.
“Uh, heeeeey, Adam, how are you?” Her eyes darted over to the other man standing at the counter with a clipboard of paperwork.
“I’m good,” he replied, now feeling a little less buoyant, but also distracted by Other Dude, who was extremely fine, and, look, Holster was only human. Those shoulders. Those cheekbones. That ass… Holster wondered if he’d played hockey.
“Oh, have you met Justin before?” Cait asked, all faux innocence, and Holster made a note to follow up on that later.
“Nope, can’t say that I have,” Holster said, and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, bro.”
“Likewise,” said the guy, Justin, and returned a firm, warm grip that Holster tried not to linger over.
They broke apart as Chris pushed through the door to the kennels with a cheery, “Here she is!”
“Petunia!” chorused Holster and Justin, and then looked at each other and then back at the ecstatic pit bull now dancing circles back and forth between them.
Oh.
Cait and Chris exchanged glances and then Chris held out the leash. “Why don’t you guys take her for a walk?”
Justin nodded slightly, and Holster reached out for the leash. “Yeah, okay.”
***
They set off side-by-side down the sidewalk to the nearby park, clearly a familiar route for both of them, with Petunia looking back to check that they were both there regularly, tail wagging madly. Holster felt a little ache in his chest area, because she wasn’t even his yet, but he also knew he’d give her up to the guy beside him if he asked.
“So… Cait said your name was Adam?”
Holster winced and pushed his glasses back up his nose with a sigh. “Actually, could you call me Holster? I’m just… way more used to it.”
Justin gave him a very obvious once-over. “Hockey nickname?”
Holster grinned at him. “Bro, you know it.” But then the smile faded. “Until recently, anyway.”
Justin shot him a questioning look.
Holster shrugged. “Busted my knee in my first NHL season.”
Justin nodded, looking resolutely at Petunia ahead of them. “Ransom,” he said.
“Huh?”
“Call me Ransom.”
“I knew it!”
Ransom smiled over at him, and Holster tried to remember how to breathe. That was just unfair.
“I figured I’d just have to get used to being Justin again when I started med school.” A shadow passed over his face and his lips pressed together into something less happy. “Guess that doesn’t matter now.”
Holster bumped him with a shoulder, and he didn’t think he imagined the way Ransom seemed to lean into it. “What gives?”
“Oh, I quit. My parents are super pissed, but, like, my therapist pointed out I was killing myself? For something I didn’t actually want to do? So I got an office job until I can figure out what I actually want, and she suggested walking a dog for the shelter as part of my therapy, so.”
They turned into the park, and Holster wrestled internally with his desire to hug a dude who was, for all intents and purposes, still a total stranger.
“It was physical therapy for me,” Holster said. “’Cause I didn’t like aimless walking.”
Ransom squared his shoulders and nodded, clearly about to say something, but then caught the look on Holster’s as his knee flared. “Look, there’s a bench, can you make it?”
“Yup,” Holster said, breathing through it, annoyed at how familiar this was. “C’mon, Petunia.”
Ransom reached over and smoothly took the leash as she bounded excitedly ahead, like they’d been making these handoffs for years. “You can use my shoulder if you need to,” he added, like it was nothing. “I got you.”
They made it to the bench successfully, and Petunia hopped up between them, turning in circles as she tried to decide who to lie on more. Eventually she settled with her head on Ransom’s thigh, tail tucked up against Holster. They both started petting her, and she sighed contentedly. Holster watched as the tension seemed to drain out of Ransom, and sighed his own relief as he stretched out his leg.
“You should take her,” they both said at the same time.
“But you need her for your therapy!” Ransom objected, and Holster thought he might not want to be a doctor, but he probably would have been a great one anyway.
“And you need her to relax,” he countered. “You were mad tense, and now look at you.” Relaxed was an unfairly good look on Ransom, Holster wasn’t gonna lie.
An idea occurred to him. A wonderful, crazy, stupid idea, but just thinking about it made him happier than he’d been since he crashed into the boards and knew his career was over before it had even started.
He turned toward Ransom. “So. I have a solution.”
Ransom raised his eyebrows.
“You should move in with me. I need a roommate anyway, and then nobody has to choose.”
Petunia took the opportunity to turn around and direct her soulful gaze up at Holster until he started petting her ears.
“It’d be a shame to make her pick, don’t you think?”
“Do it for Petunia, huh?”
“I mean, I’m not entirely altruistic. But I was thinking, you, me, and Petunia? We could all start over together.”
Ransom ran his hand down Petunia’s back and her tail thumped against his leg.
“You know, I think I’d like that.”
***
(Petunia is absolutely the ring bearer at their wedding.)
A Taste of Forever
From: @willdexpoindexter
To: @ivecarvedawoodenheart
You said you liked Bedsharing, fake dating, “everyone thought we were dating this whole time but us,” and fluff, and I’m always down for tropes so I did them all! I hope you like it!
Relationship: Holster x Ransom
Rating: Teen
Tags: sharing a bed; fake/pretend relationship; everyone thinks they’re together; meet the family; friends to lovers; fluff; first kiss
The invitation arrives to Haus 2.0 addressed to both of them, and that’s the first sign that something is up.
“Rans?” Adam calls. “Who’s Hannah?”
His best friend pops his head into the kitchen.
“Hannah?”
“We have mail from a Hannah Oluransi. Hoping you know her.”
“Oh, that’s my cousin. Odd that she’d send both of us something. Lemme see.”
Ransom takes the envelope from him and opens it, scanning the contents for a moment before looking up at Adam with an adorably confused face.
“It’s her wedding invitation. She’s invited both of us.”
“Weird, I wonder why,” Adam muses, but goes back to sorting at the table.
~
The “why” becomes apparent when Ransom shows Adam the text exchange with Hannah.
Justin : Hey, got your wedding invite! Why did you invite Adam though?
Hannah : Come on, Justin, the whole family knows you’re dating. I figured it was time to stop pretending we didn’t. Besides, I wanna meet him!
Adam reads it and then looks at Ransom. “We’re what now?”
Ransom laughs. “My thoughts exactly. I don’t know that she’d believe me if I told her we weren’t though. Do you wanna just go to the wedding with me?”
“Like, as your boyfriend?”
“Um, if you want? Or we can just go as friends and explain it there?”
Adam shrugs. “Whatever you want bro. I’m always down for a wedding.”
“‘Swawesome.”
~
Ransom sends in the RSVP and Adam forgets about it for the next several months. They have enough going on with the Falconers winning the Cup and their workloads that it doesn’t ever get decided how exactly they’re going to this wedding together.
They take off the Friday before the wedding so they can drive to Toronto and get there in time for the rehearsal dinner. Ransom isn’t standing up in the wedding but family is family so here they are.
It doesn’t occur to either of them until they walk into the restaurant that they didn’t actually discuss what they were going to say. Adam decides to just follow Ransom’s lead and opens the door for him, ushering him in first.
“Justin!” A woman’s shout greets him and then Ransom is being enveloped in hugs and being kissed on cheeks and drawn into the crowd of aunties and cousins.
He looks wildly back for Adam, still standing at the entrance to the party room, and reaches out a hand towards him.
Adam smiles and nudges his way through the crowd to take Ransom’s hand.
“And you brought your boyfriend!” the woman in a white tea dress exclaims. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you! I’m Hannah, and this is my almost-Husband, Mo.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Adam,” he holds out his hand to shake and she completely ignores it, wrapping him in a giant hug.
“Come, sit with me and tell me all about Boston,” she grins, dragging them towards the head of the table.
“Most everyone else stayed pretty local,” Ransom explains as they make their way behind her. “I’m exciting.”
“Plus you brought your boyfriend,” Adam chirps, but Ransom suddenly looks on the wrong side of panicked. “Rans, it’s okay. I’m cool with whatever you want.” He’s still holding his hand so he gives it a squeeze.
“Okay,” Ransoms says, and squeezes back.
~
When they get to their hotel room that night, they discover their next hurdle.
“Oh no,” Ransom says, stopping in the doorway. “My mom booked the rooms. I should have told her we needed two beds, I’m so sorry—“
“What like we’ve never shared a bed before?” He cuts him off. “Come on, let’s snuggle, bro.” Adam takes a couple of steps and launches himself onto the bed in the middle of the room. He bounces a couple of times then holds out his arms towards Ransom.
With an eye roll and a smile, Ransom curls up beside him. They watch TV for a while and then drift off.
Adam sleeps better that night than he has since moving into Haus 2.0 with his own double bed. He tries not to think about why.
~
They get up the next morning and go out for brunch with Justin’s parents and sisters.
Justin -- he should probably call his “boyfriend” by his first name -- takes Adam’s hand but otherwise doesn’t prompt any PDA.
The Oluansis ask questions about Boston and tell stories of their own lives and the kids’ childhoods as always. Adam has always loved how easily they folded him into their family.
Probably because they thought he and Justin were dating.
Oops.
They all head back to the hotel to change for the ceremony and Adam changes with the efficiency of years spent in locker rooms. Only when he’s reaching for his tie is the flow interrupted.
“Here,” Justin says. Adam looks up and stares at the soft green tie in Justin’s hand. It matches the shirt Justin has on, top button open, under a grey suit jacket.
“Thanks, bro,” he smiles and takes the tie, looping it through his white dress shirt. He adjusts it in the mirror and Justin comes to stand beside him.
Adam reaches an arm out, dropping it across his shoulders, and studies their reflection.
“We look good, bro.”
“We should maybe use something else tonight. Not bro.”
“Oh, yeah, what do you wanna use?”
“Babe has a nice ring to it,” Justin says, still looking in the mirror but not meeting his eye in the reflection.
“Sounds good, babe.”
He thinks Justin might be blushing.
~
Hannah is absolutely gorgeous in her gown. It has a deep, swooping back that shows off her dark skin and trails behind her elegantly. She is positively glowing as her father walks her down the aisle towards Mo.
Adam cries so hard when they read their vows he has to take off his glasses. Justin doesn’t even chirp him, though, just offers him a handkerchief.
After the ceremony ends, they wander around the cocktail hour hand in hand until the hall is opened and they are released to find their tables for dinner. They’ve been seated with some of Justin’s other cousins with plus ones, the single cousins at their own table. Which means that they’re subject to a barrage of questions about their relationship that Adam has no idea how to answer.
He lets Justin tell them fake answers about how long they’ve been together and where they went for their first date, and only hops in to explain how they played defense together on their college hockey team, which hasn’t changed even in their new “relationship”.
It could have gone worse.
After dinner, the other couples all drift off to talk to friends and family or join the dancing. Adam watches Justin play with his wine glass for a moment before standing and offering his hand.
“Let’s dance, babe.”
Dancing with Justin as a fake couple isn’t much different from dancing with him as best bros at kegsters. Adam flails in a semi-contained fashion next to Justin as he moves smoothly. It’s not any different.
Until it is.
An upbeat tune ends and a slow one comes on and all the couples gravitate in towards each other like magnets, the single people and kids largely leaving the dance floor. Hannah and Mo are in the center, rotating slowly around each other.
Adam isn’t about to give up the ruse now, so he pulls Justin in as well, resting a large hand on either side of his waist. Justin loops his own arms up around his neck, and then they’re slow dancing like middle schoolers, bodies six inches apart but feeling oh so close.
But Justin won’t look at him. Instead, he has his head tilted down and his eyes fixed on a spot near Adam’s collarbone.
“Rans?” he murmurs into Justin’s hair.
He doesn’t look up.
“Justin, please look at me?”
He’s speaking quietly enough that they won’t be overheard but Justin could still make it out.
“We don’t have to do this. We can go back to our table. It’s okay. Just tell me what you need?”
Justin doesn’t so much as look at him as launch himself up into Adam’s face and suddenly he has Justin’s lips pressed to his and the world stops moving.
He can’t get himself to move. To respond. Anything.
And after a moment, Justin pulls back and flees the dancefloor.
“Rans! Wait!” he calls as he rushes after him.
He makes it all the way to the lobby before Adam catches up with him, wrapping a hand around Justin’s bicep and pulling him around to face him.
Justin immediately curls into Adam’s chest and begins to cry.
“Rans, Justin, what’s wrong?” he says as he wraps his arms around his best bro, an impulse he hopes to never lose.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Justin says into his shirt.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Adam insists.
“I should have asked first.”
“That’s all this is? I told you I was cool with whatever you wanted tonight.”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it then?”
“I wanted to kiss you. Not for show. Not for anything but because I wanted to kiss you.” He’s still crying into Adam’s shirt a little but the words are clear.
“Oh.”
“And now I’ve fucked it—“
“Justin, no,” Adam cuts him off. “Nothing is fucked.”
Justin sniffles.
“Is this a tonight thing? Because I don’t think I can do just a tonight thing,” Adam asks when it becomes clear Justin isn’t going to explain.
“No!” Justin’s head jerks up, finally looking at Adam. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“So what is it?” he asks, studying Justin’s face for clues as to what the hell is happening.
“It’s how much I wanted this weekend to be real. I wanted you to be my boyfriend, not because my cousin thinks we’re dating and you’re always down for a wedding but because you want to be my boyfriend too.”
“Justin, that’s all you had to say,” Adam murmurs softly before pressing his lips to Justin’s.
He tastes like tears but he tastes like Justin and it’s easily the best kiss he’s ever had because he also tastes like forever.
~
When they get back to Haus 2.0 Sunday evening they don’t even have to discuss it before they both crash in Adam’s room.
Every night that week Justin gets ready for bed alongside Adam. They climb into bed together. They exchange lazy kisses. They fall asleep curled together.
Adam has never slept better.
Friday night they go on their first proper date. Justin is stunning as always in a wine red button down and grey slacks as they take their seats. Adam tells him so and Justin smiles bashfully.
The night is going well, and Justin has just taken a bite of his steak when Adam blurts it out.
“Move in with me.”
Justin’s eyes bulge. He swallows his bite and then takes another moment to think before he speaks.
“You won’t get tired of me?”
“Babe,” Adam reaches for his hand which Justin gives willingly, “I could never. You’re my best bro and my favorite person and you’re it for me. Nothing could change that. And frankly, I don’t like the idea of you ever going back to your own room.”
“Me neither.”
“So you will?”
“Yeah, of course, Adam.”
They move Justin’s things into Adam’s room the next day. He never moves out.
He still tastes like forever .
Secret Admirers are for Chumps
From: @secretgeniusshittyknight
To: @wlwboomboom
“Oh, those are fancy. Tiger lilies?” Holster asked, popping his head into Ransom’s cubicle.
“Yeah. They’re my-”
“Favorite,” they said in unison.
“Jinx,” Holster said with a wink. “Who are they from?”
Ransom looked at the small card tucked into the bouquet of flowers. “It doesn’t say. Just says, ‘You are a wonderful person whose smile brightens my day.’ Nothing else.”
Holster reached over and tousled Ransom’s hair, not that it did anything; the tightly coiled curls were cropped too close to his scalp. “Sounds like someone has a secret admirer. That’s cute.”
Ransom shrugged. “If you say so. I hope they don’t like expect me to just date them because they sent me gifts.”
A flash of an indecipherable emotion washed across Holster’s face, but it vanished in an instant. And without another word, Holster left Ransom’s cubicle and went back to work.
For the rest of the day, Ransom tried to put the flowers out of his mind. Yet, his thoughts kept drifting back to his mysterious admirer.
***
“These are fucking fantastic. Oh my God, Holtz. You have to try one!” Ransom didn’t give Holster a chance to object before he snatched a truffle from the box and held it to Holster’s mouth. And if his fingers happened to brush Holster’s lips, well whoops. “Best damn chocolates I’ve ever had.”
Holster mumbled in appreciation, his mouth full of confection. “Mmhmm.” After a beat of silence wherein both of them finished chewing, he spoke, “Do these have a card too?”
Ransom nodded, handing the card over. This time, instead of a small note, there was a crudely drawn handmade card with a slice of pizza on it.
“‘You have a pizza my heart.’ That’s adorable.”
“Check the inside. There’s more.”
Holster read, “You deserve the world, but no one in the world deserves you, not even me. You are one of a kind.’ Well, that’s...something.”
Ransom rubbed the back of his neck. “Whoever they are, they have good taste and seem to know me well.”
Nodding as though deep in thought, Holster chuckled, “You think it’s someone at the office? What if it’s Agnes on the fifth floor?”
Ransom gave him a playful smack in the arm. “Agnes is like my grandmother. Calls me the grandson she never had. Not only do I doubt she thinks of me that way, but I pray she doesn’t.”
***
“Okay,” Ransom said, dropping a box on the kitchen table when he got home. It hit with a thud and made Holster, Shitty, and Lardo look over at him from what looked to be an intense game of Mario Kart. “This is getting ridiculous. First, it was flowers, then chocolates, then a six-pack of that limited edition porter from All Ahead Full. You know the one…”
“Iceberg?” Shitty said.
“No the other one.”
“Ah, Hard to Port,” Lardo chimed in.
“Yes, That’s the one. And let me tell you, it’s fucking amazing. Please, do yourselves a favor and try one.”
Holster stretched his arms high above his head with a yawn, making his shirt ride up. Ransom absolutely did not stare. Nope. He didn’t even glance in that direction. “But wasn’t it like fifty dollars a six pack? I remember we asked about it when they announced it.”
“I know right? These gifts are getting extravagant. It’s almost like they’re trying to buy my affection.”
Holster sank down into the cushions of the couch. “Maybe they wanted to get you nice things? But you’re right, probably trying to buy your love.”
Was that a hint of bitterness? Ransom was about to ask, but he noticed the television out of the corner of his eye just in time to see Holster’s race rank drop from first to seventh as a blue turtle shell crashed into him. Lardo...was ruthless when it came to Mario Kart. “It’s been a week and a half. Flowers, chocolates, movie tickets, beer, and so on. I have no idea who this is, but it’s getting to be a bit much.”
“Yeah,” Holster mumbled, then cackled as he got retribution on Lardo’s blue shell by rocketing across the finish line just ahead of her. “Ha! That’s what I call karma!”
“Incidentally, what’s in the box?” Shitty popped the cap of one of the aforementioned bottles of porter.
“Oh, it’s...a Bruins t-shirt. A Bobby Orr shirt. In the correct size mind you. I didn’t think people at work listened when I talked about hockey. Hey Holtzy,” he said without looking as he pulled the shirt out of the box, “can you remember who it was I was telling about my favorite team? Was it Mark or was it Daphne?”
“Uh yeah, I think Holster went to take a piss or...something.” Shitty stroked his mustache, looking suspiciously like a supervillain when he did so.
***
To his surprise, the next day’s gift from his secret admirer was far less extravagant than he was suspecting, just lunch from Jimmy John’s. His usual order. It was starting to look more and more like Daphne from two rows of cubicles over was his secret admirer. She’d joined a bunch of them on a lunch outing more than once. Unfortunately, there was no card this time.
As annoyed as he was that someone in his office had this much of a crush on him that they would spend so much money on gifts for him, he was also quite curious, a fact which he mentioned to Holster, Shitty, and Lardo over dinner that night. “I think it could be Daphne. I should talk to her tomorrow.”
“I think,” Holster said with an entirely too full mouth, “that is a terrible idea.”
“Why? I know I talked about hockey with her, she would know what I ordered on my sandwich. She’s gone to happy hour at All Ahead Full, so...like she would know these things I like. I’m going to ask her.”
Holster didn’t elaborate on why he thought it was a bad idea to simply ask Daphne upfront if she was his secret admirer. Perhaps after Ransom had relayed all his evidence, Holster agreed with him. However, he remained strangely quiet for the rest of the night.
***
“Well, as it turns out… Daphne is a lesbian. She thought it was adorable though that I was convinced- Wait, where’s Holster?”
Lardo gestured to the bathroom, “Shower.”
“I thought we were supposed to have a movie night.” Ransom rubbed his forehead. “No, wait. That was tomorrow.”
“So,” she said, looking over at him, “what’d’ya get today?”
He shook the Mason jar of pistachios at her, pink and red glitter flaking off and falling to the ground as he did so. “Whoever they are is apparently, and I am quoting verbatim, ‘Nuts about me’. I don’t particularly care for pistachios, but it’s a cute idea. I guess.”
“Ransom,” Lardo walked over and put her hand on his shoulder, “you were uncomfortable when they were fancier gifts of things you liked, and you are annoyed when it’s homemade gifts of things you don’t like. That…”
“Sounds spoiled. I know. It’s more that I just want to know who it is. It’s unnerving… starting to feel like a stalker. That’s all.”
She hummed in contemplation. “You want to know what I think?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I think… you already know who it is.”
“I knew it! It is Mark. So how do I tell the guy I am not interested in him? He’s...I don’t know...utterly boring. Nice, but boring and should have told me all this to my face. Dunno, it’s becoming kind of creepy if you ask me.”
Lardo rolled her eyes, “Real insightful there, bro. Is it creepy, or are you just annoyed that they’re not coming from the person you really want to send you gifts?”
“Wait-” he called to her retreating back. “What was that supposed to mean?”
***
Three more days of increasingly simple gifts before Ransom came into work to find only a pink envelope decorated in that same pink and red glitter as the jar of pistachios, the homemade snowglobe, and pizza card on his desk. Inside was a machine printed note that said, ‘ Sorry. I’ll stop. Didn’t mean to freak you out. I tried to tell you in person, but I chickened out… again like the coward I am.’ There was badly drawn chicken with a sad face at the bottom of the note, but no name.
Huh, well how about that?
Ransom got up from his desk to go relay the latest events in this secret admirer saga to Holster, only to find his desk empty, computer off.
“Looking for Holster? He was here for about five minutes. Looked miserable. Boss sent him home sick.”
What? Holster wasn’t sick. He’d seen the guy just this morning just before he walked into the bathroom. He looked fine, and even if he was sick, why hadn’t he said anything to Ransom? They usually played nurse for each other when under the weather.
Baffled, Ransom sat down at his desk and tried to work, but for the better part of the day, his mind was elsewhere.
***
When he walked through the door that afternoon, after feigning illness (and why shouldn’t he? If his roommate got sent home ill, it stood to reason that he might also have caught the same bug. A total lie of course, but a believable one), he found himself met with total silence. Perhaps Holster was sleeping, as well he should be, but Ransom knocked on his door just to check on him.
“Hey, Holtzy...can I get you anything?”
“No.”
“Are you sure. They said you looked like you felt terrible. Least let me come in and give you the cursory check.”
“No. It’s fine.”
“Which one of us took a crapton of biology classes?”
Inside Holster’s room, he heard rustling, but eventually, Holster came and opened the door. The first thing Ransom noticed were his red-rimmed eyes and puffy face. He’d been crying. That or he had the worst case of stuffy-cold-watery-eyes face (trademark pending) that Ransom had ever seen. He was about to ask what the matter had been when his eyes caught sight of a bag, the contents of which were spilling onto the floor as though it had been haphazardly stuffed under Holster’s desk.
This, in and of itself, wouldn’t be too noticeable, but the bag of pistachios, a package of glass jars, scraps of construction paper...and a container of Valentine’s Day themed glitter which had opened and poured out onto the carpet caught his attention. Caught it, and kept it.
Pieces of the puzzle all slotted into place. Lardo had been right; he was upset because someone had been giving him all those gifts and it bothered him...because they hadn’t been from Holster.
Or so he thought.
Holster followed his line of sight, and a panicked squeak the likes Ransom wouldn’t even have thought possible from him escaped his throat. Ransom turned to look at him, noticing all the color had drained from his face.
Holster swallowed hard, eyes wide as though he was staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. Ransom swore he could see all the thoughts racing around in his head.
“I-” he began, but stopped, turned, and flopped down on his bed face first, burying his face in his pillow. What followed next, on any other day, Ransom would say was just Holster being overdramatic, but today… Holster screamed, the pillow muffling most of the noise. Then, he groaned, “Just get it over with, Rans.”
Get what- Oh. “Well, you could have gone about it in a less...weird way.”
Holster rolled over onto his back, covering his face with an arm. “I thought people found the idea of a Secret Admirer romantic. Clearly, I was mistaken.”
“Was this all a joke?” Ransom had to be sure before he said anything else.
Holster peeked out from under his arm. “What? Why would you think that?” With a long suffering sigh, he said, “First, I was just going to get you flowers. Then waltz over and say, ‘Surprise! Those are from me.’ But I panicked, and then, well you know” he gesticulated wildly with the arm not covering his face.
“It snowballed?”
“Yes. Exactly. So I tried to up the stakes. Nicer gifts each day, but you didn’t seem to like that. So, I went homemade. And well, then I overheard you talking to Lardo. So I gave up. Just if you would kindly put me out of my misery before leaving my room, that would be just grand,” he groaned.
Ransom pondered the thought. Holster was a large guy with larger emotions, who had the tendency to go over the top with most things. Why would declarations of romantic feelings be any different? And it was not as though Ransom didn’t think of Holster that way. In fact, it was the opposite. He adored him but had written off those feelings as purely platonic (most of the time. He was only human. So sue him) because Holster hadn’t shown any interest.
This was a case of differing preferences. Ransom preferred subtlety and Holster...did ostentatious work here? Yes, ostentatious. Had Ransom at any time grabbed a megaphone and shouted, ‘I think you’re great! I’d really like to kiss you...among other things!’, or had Holster just left a custom crossword puzzle on Ransom’s desk which spelled out, ‘You and I work great together. Date me?’ then they wouldn’t be in this mess.
So, he walked around to the other side of the bed, lying down on his back beside him. Then, he pried Holster’s arm away from his face and kissed his hand. “The beer was a nice touch. I thought they’d sold out of that one.”
Holster stared at him, flabbergasted. “I- you- what?”
Ransom rolled over and kissed Holster’s cheek. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Holtzy.”
“So...wait! This is a mutual feeling?” he shouted.
“Ding, ding, ding. Now he gets it.”
Holster burst out in ecstatic laughter. “You have got to be kidding me! But I um, sort of waited in line from like six am day of release. They sold out two people behind me.”
“Worth it,” Ransom said, lacing their fingers together.
“So um...I had a gift I decided not to give you and figured I would just see if you wanted to go with me...instead of you know…”
“Going with the mystery secret admirer?”
“Bingo. I have a pair of second row tickets for tomorrow’s game against the Aeros.”
Ransom reached over and tugged at him until Holster rolled on top of him. He kissed him on the nose. “I would love to.”
“Then it’s a date.”
“It certainly is.”