For SJ! Thank you-- your donation will be sent to the Palestinian Social Fund.
Prompt: the bad kids, mordred manor, group hangout
You mentioned not being pressed for details, so I moved it to Riz's office between S1 and S2. I hope you don't mind!
You can read all of the collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Kofi4ACause Request a fic at Kofi4ACause: https://ko-fi.com/omgpourquoi
TW: Disassociation/Derealization but his friends show up to help!
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Riz Gukgak isn’t one to rest on a case. He’s not even sure what that means, actually. He’s staring at his case board, red string blurring together to the point he wonders if he should start again with a new color. Maybe a gray?
He’s been locking himself in his new office as much as his mom will let him get away with and drinking coffee as fast as he can make it. Once he had gotten his murder board through the door, the Nightmare Crown theft consumed him fully; even when he was away from the board, he was thinking about it. It was easier to just stay here with the board. The thing is that he's close. He’s so close— he must be. It’s been a little over a month since the Nightmare Crown went missing from Principal Aguefort's office during the fight. He’s still trying to connect its theft to the last case. To Kalvaxus. To the Seven. To the Abernants. To Aguefort. There’s something he’s missing, though, there must be something else—
His thought is interrupted by a loud banging on the door. In a second, he's up from the desk, goblin ears pinning back to his head with a hiss, gun pointed towards the door. There's another banging.
“The Ball, open the door,” comes the muffed voice of Fabian Aramais Seacaster from the other side. Riz realizes the banging must be Fabian's version of a knock.
Riz takes a breath, trying to regulate his racing heart. He slowly replaces his gun in its holster. Apparently, though, he's not moving fast enough for his friends, because he hears an impatient sigh that can only belong to Fig.
“Move over, I’ll just kick it down,” he hears Fig offer.
It’s enough to get him moving towards them. He likes his door as it is, without Fig's bootprints on the front.
"I'm coming, don't break your foot or my door," he says as he drags himself away from his desk to unlock the door. It flies open to reveal his friends. And not just Fabian and Fig but Gorgug, Kristen, and Adaine as well. They’re dressed like it's warm outside and vaguely he remembers that it is summer.
The stand there and look at him blankly for a moment, before Fabian break the silence. "Oh, uh— we brought Chinese food?”
Just before Gorgug asks, "Are you okay?"
Both of them are outshined by Kristen though who, at the same time, raises her arms and yells, “This is an intervention!"
"Um," Riz doesn't know what to say. He settles on an answer to all three, "Okay."
They push past and pile into his small office without invitation. Suddenly, Riz feels tired. His legs are aching and his face feels sweaty and his head hurts. Gorgug pushes his old pizza boxes into the trash so that he can sit in the chair they’d been occupying. Kristen pulls the blinds and opens the window, letting in a light breeze. Vaguely, he wonders what time it is. He’s startled to realize he hasn’t had that thought for days.
"Hi, Riz. We're here for lunch," Adaine says, as she reaches forward to places a hand on his shoulder. Lunch. Huh, so it must be around noon. He feels the familiar rush of her magic, like summer rain and the faint smell of a library. His clothes unrumple, his face ungreases, his hair feels clean and he feels more present than he has in weeks.
"The Ball, we got you chow mein," Fabian says, pulling out boxes and placing them wherever he can find a spot on the desk.
Fig leans over and pushes some of the files and post-its off the desk and to the floor. Before he can protest, Kristen plops down into his desk chair and grins at him.
"It really is a nice office," she says, spinning in his desk chair.
Beside him, Gorgug lifts up a plastic bag.
"I bought a Cola, but, uh, we thought you should drink water. So-," Gorgug says, shoving a water bottle into his hand.
"Oh. Okay," Riz says, taking a sip. Someone hands him his food, he takes a bite and his stomach growls. Huh, when did he get hungry?
He looks at his friends, who've come into his office, interrupting his investigative brooding and taken up all his space. They're infuriating and chaotic and loud and overwhelming and here. They’re here.
Riz feels like he’s coming back from the dead. They sit in various part of the office, eating Chinese food and bickering about how much coffee is actually too much coffee. Riz just listens. He eats. He drinks. It feels like he's settling back into his skin. Into himself. Eventually, as always, they turn back to the case.
"Okay, what'd we got?" Fig asks as she kicks at his board. It rattles from the force, shaking all of his string. The vibrating strings look a lot like his brain feels, shaky and uncertain. Although, he is starting to feel better. More like their Riz, the Riz he is actually starting to like to be, instead of a hyper-fixated goblin in his room all alone.
"You know, I think we need a new perspective. New string," Adaine says. She reaches in her jacket, which is currently tied around her waist, and pulls out a fresh ball of string. It's gray.
With a sudden clarity, Riz realizes that his friends are, each in their own ways, caring for him. Riz Gukgak isn't used to being cared for. He's usually the one doing the caring. Sometimes he thinks he cares so much that it'll kill him. Sometimes he hopes it does.
But his friends are here. They're here and they care. They think he is worth caring for.
Thinking about it, he gets a little choked up and has to drink more water to cover it up. Then he actually does choke. Fabian moves to his side and pats his back a little too hard.
"Breathe, the Ball. Dying from drinking water would be a stupid way to die," he says.
"Yeah, you have to die in a cool way," Kristen chimes in.
He lets out about little cough and air returns to him. He turns back to his friends and they look at him expectedly. Right.
For SJ! Thank you-- your donation will be sent to the Palestinian Social Fund.
Prompt: nurseydex, the haus/samwell, trying to find alone time
You can read all of the collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Kofi4ACause
Request a fic at Kofi4ACause: https://ko-fi.com/omgpourquoi
Loosely set in my nothing subtle here timeline--
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Dex is annoyed. Which isn’t particularly new, his normal state of being is annoyed. But this is different, because now he knows what it’s like to be kissing Derek Nurse. And he wants to be doing that; he wants to be doing that and nothing else. Yeah, Nursey is right there. But also so fucking far. Too far. Life is cruel.
Life is a first kiss in Faber last night, a beautiful boy holding him against the boards. And then? A goodnight kiss like something out of a fucking movie, all soft and gooey; a morning practice of drills; classes; a study group; an evening strategy practice. Through all of it, just like always Nursey is still there and out of reach, except now that Dex knows what it's like for him to be firmly reachable, his chill and indifferent exterior are even more annoying. He's acting so normal that Dex is beginning to worry he dreamed everything last night. But no-- he can’t be sure, but Dex thinks Nursey's chill might be starting to break a little. He's sitting next to him, anxiously tapping his pen against his leg as he watches the clip of Harvard’s defensive line Coach is lecturing on.
His leg started jumping when Coach flipped off the light and hasn't stopped since. The lights are still off, and Dex is tempted to reach out and—
And what? They’re in a dark projection room surrounded by the whole team. Chowder is sitting to his left, chewing on his Sharks sweatshirt drawstrings and taking notes. Usually, Dex takes notes. Usually, Dex ignores Nursey (or tries) until it’s time to talk about their defense strategy.
But he can’t stop thinking about Nursey. The feeling of his always-there scruff against his skin. He wonders if Nursey will kiss him again tonight. Wants to kiss Nursey tonight. Wants to kiss him right now. He just…he wants Nursey alone. He wants, he wants, he wants.
He also can't stop thinking about Nursey's leg, which is still bouncing next to him. It's annoying. Dex is annoyed. Something has to give. With a sigh, he reaches out and puts his hand on Nursey's knee to stop its bouncing. There's nothing particularly non-platonic about it. He would have done it before yesterday. But now? He's all too aware of the texture of Nursey’s stupid hipster brown corduroy pants and the way his leg instantly comes to a halt under the touch.
"Sorry," Nursey whispers. Instinctively, Dex leans closer, close enough to smell Nursey's aftershave. He wants to follow the smell to his neck, but he doesn't.
"S'okay," he whispers back. Slowly, he removes his hand. He sneaks a glance at Chowder, who doesn't seem to have noticed. Good. He still wants this to be theirs, for now.
After a second, Coach starts a new clip and circles the player they're supposed to be tracking. Emery, #08. Dex starts to take a note but stops as Nursey shifts, pressing his thigh against Dex’s. He’s always had nice thighs, something Dex has desperately tried—and failed—to ignore for years.
Hockey is a great sport, is all his brain provides as he stares down at their legs pressing together. He looks up with a raised eyebrow and Nursey's icy chill exterior cracks even more as he scrunches his nose conspiratorially, a private something just for Dex. It's a little cheesy and so Nursey and Dex’s heart literally flutters.
Get it together, Will. He’s just a guy. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He attempts to shift his attention back to Coach, trying to clear away the longing. It doesn't work.
Nursey's just a guy. Except that he’s not. He never has been just a hook up or enemy or friend or some guy. He’s Nursey. The unsolvable math problem that still makes perfect sense. His best friend. His— well, whatever they are after a handful of kisses and the admission of this-- months of pining and bickering teetering on the edge of foreplay.
Dex presses back and he can feel Nursey’s body heat through his jeans. And he wants, he wants, he wants.
I'm so fucked. Dex thinks as he watches Coach start to wrap up, thank god.
“Alright, you're dismissed. Talk with your line about your approach next weekend. And email your professors about missing class on Friday, please.”
Nursey moves away to pack up his stuff and Dex misses his warmth almost immediately. Next to him, Chowder stifles a yawn as the light flips on, pulling up his sweatshirt hood to block out the florescents.
"Yo, C, you need to grab a coffee or something?" Nursey asks, looking at their sleepy goalkeeper with concern.
But Dex isn’t having it, not today. “I thought you wanted to review the offensive footage, Nursey?”
The words are out of his mouth before he plans what to do with them. Nursey has never, in his life, wanted to review hockey footage. He likes watching hockey, duh it's hockey, but when it’s homework, he gets all fidgety. And the thing is— Dex knows that. And Nursey knows Dex knows that.
Dex is the one who watches it with him— picking out weaknesses for the next week. It's kinda a thing. Nursey complains about sports coming with homework and Dex judges the players on their uncoordinated defensive lines. Somewhere in-between they learn their opponents habits. The anticipation is what gets Nursey, Dex thinks. At some point he starts getting in his own head about it and gets anxious about how they'll stack up in the game. They should actually review the footage. But not today. Dex's brain is on rails right now, desperately trying to get Nursey alone.
When he turns to look at his defensive partner, Nursey is chewing on the inside of his cheek— a nervous habit that Dex definitely isn’t obsessed with or anything.
“Um, I —“ he starts but stops himself like he's just hit a wall mid-sentence. Dex watches him realize that Dex wants to be alone. Alone with him. "Well, yeah, but-"
"Cool," Dex nods and turns back to Chowder. “I think we have to review it tonight, C. I have a test on Thursday so we won’t have time later.”
It's a white lie, but he stills feels guilty about it so he tacks on a “Breakfast tomorrow?” after. The idea of letting C down in any way heartbreaking, but Chowder doesn't seem to mind at all.
He shrugs. "No worries, I think I'm just gonna head to Caitlin's and nap anyways." Dex refrains from pointing out that staying the night at Caitlin's is why he's probably so tired in the first place and picks up his own bag.
"Can she come to brekkie?" Chowder asks, looking up from his phone, probably already texting her for a ride.
"For sure, bro," Nursey nods, bumping fists with C.
Dex also accepts Chowders offered fist. He smiles, "Already figured she'd be there, honsestly."
"Swawesome! See you guys in the am," he says with a tired grin and he answers an incoming call from Caitlin before his phone has a chance to ring.
They file out with the rest of the team but instead of heading for the exit, Dex peels off and motions for Nursey to follow. He raises an eyebrow but follows as the rest of the team dissipates into the parking lot. They walk around the corner, back towards the locker room and Dex turns left.
"What--" Nursey starts a sentence and then, because of who he is as a person, he trips trying to pivot. Dex reaches out to grab his bicep-- something he'd done last night. Something he's secretly glad to be doing again -- and pulls Nursey upright. He leads them towards the closet where they keep spare equipment and cones for drills. Dex can’t say he’s spent much, if any, actual time in the equipment closet. It was carefully organized by Lardo and now by Ford. He pushes the door open and pulls Nursey by his ridiculously muscular arm into the darkness.
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:) Read the rest on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Kofi4ACause/works/51163294
