#checkpleasespoilers

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 6)

(ch. 1) (ch. 2) (ch. 3) (ch. 4) (ch. 5)

Ford makes one more note on her clipboard, before setting it down beside her on the bench.

She doesn’t always watch practice. To be fair, she kind of doesn’t need to watch practice – technically speaking, that is. It’s kind of ironic, almost, what with her long (and, quite frankly, constantly expanding) list of duties as manager of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team, that none of her work actually has much to do with the hockey part of the equation. Instead, it’s all about the everything else – booking travel for away games, writing and mailing out the biweekly newsletter, coordinating team breakfast as well as other morale-boosting social endeavors and making sure the Scones don’t actually catfish the entire lax frat in a misguided attempt to impress a certain group of Samwell alumni. That sort of thing. 

It’s been a little while, since she last found herself seated on the bench when it wasn’t a game night. Or at least, it seems like it’s been a while. Because really, this can’t be the same team Ford watched less than two weeks ago.

Clearly, she’s missed out on some major developments.

Dex has called everyone together, and is going over a new play they’re about to try. He’s patient and very clear – succinct, Ford decides, after a moment’s consideration – and the smooth way he invites Chowder and Hops into the conversation, encouraging them to be vocal and precise about what they’ll need to get the timing right, is actually kind of cool. It’s not quite the route Bitty would have taken – his method involved a lot more determined enthusiasm, which Ford always loved – and it’s also distinctly different from the more humorous style Ford recalls from her brief observations of Random and Holster in action. In any case, it seems like Dex has really settled into a rhythm that works for him, works for this team.

Ford smiles.

Then she shifts her focus.

Across the ice, one of the Scones – Pippin, or Pips, the jury’s still out on that one – has sort of drifted away from the others a little. Ford frowns. She did see Pips fumbling the puck a few times during that last drill, but it’s unclear if anyone else even noticed. Still, there’s something about Pippin’s unusually closed off expression that doesn’t feel quite right. Out of all the Scones, Pippin’s always proven the most enthusiastic, the first to engage.

Ford gets to her feet – maybe, she can alert someone on the ice, just to make sure-

Except, it turns out, she doesn’t have to.

Whiskey has quietly made his way over to Pips. There’s a quick exchange of words – something Whiskey says makes Pips smile a little – and then they’re both gliding over to the others just in time for when Dex wraps up his talk.

Slowly, Ford sits back down again.

She finds herself watching Whiskey closely, for a while. He’s got a serious expression that always emerges whenever he’s anywhere near the ice, but there’s something about it that’s a little different from before. Ford isn’t entirely sure of how to describe it. Whiskey looks a little calmer, perhaps? Or maybe less anxious?

“Yeah. I know.”

Ford looks up. She’s been so preoccupied watching Whiskey, she didn’t even notice Tango making his way over.

“He’s doing well, isn’t he?” Ford says, getting up to hand Tango his water bottle.

“For sure.” Tango looks across the ice towards Whiskey, who’s listening intently to something Chowder is saying. “I’ve gotta say, when Dex gave Whiskey the A, I was kind of surprised. But he’s really been stepping it up.”

“Doesn’t Whisk seem a bit different this year, in general?”

Tango pauses.

It’s something Ford has been thinking about a lot. They’ve been really close for a while now, the three of them – legends only, as their private group chat humbly proclaims. Except this year, Ford doesn’t quite recognize Whiskey. He’s a little livelier, sometimes, and his smiles are definitely less brief. It makes Ford wonder if they should all have realized, during last year, that maybe something wasn’t quite right.

“Do you think he talks more?” Tango asks, and Ford has to bite down her smile – leave it to Tango to answer a question with a question. “And laughs more?”

“Yeah,” Ford says eagerly. “All of that, yeah. And like, he’s got some friends coming to our next game, and he wants us to meet them? Whiskey has never introduced anyone to the team. Literally never.”

“A cousin, is what he said,” Tango supplies, shaking his head a little. “Yeah. Wild.”

“I mean, it’ll be fun,” Ford amends. “I just don’t know what to make of it.”

Tango glances over towards Whiskey again.

Then he shrugs.

“I’m sure he’ll talk to us, eventually.”

“You think there’s something to talk about?”

“If there is, he’ll talk to us when he’s ready,” Tango repeats. He sounds completely confident. “Legends only, right?”

Ford smiles a little.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Tango grins. Then he sets down his water bottle, and skates back across the ice.

Ford sits down.

Her eyes don’t leave Whiskey until he skates off the ice.

(ch. 7)

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 5)

(ch. 1) (ch. 2) (ch. 3) (ch. 4)

Whiskey takes the stairs two steps at a time.

His heart is racing as he turns the corner, immediately heading for his own room. He barely registers passing by a vaguely curious Hops as he practically runs the last few steps. As soon as he's made it inside, he closes the door firmly behind himself and then locks it.

Whiskey's pulse is frighteningly close to a level that's comparable to mid-game in the playoffs, when the call finally connects.

“... Connor?”

Whiskey tries to take a breath – not even a deep breath, for fucks sake, if he could just fucking breathe at all-

“Beth. Hey.”

For some reason, Bethany Whisk almost laughs.

“For someone who did not just come out to our entire extended family, you sure sound like shit, Connor.”

Whiskey let’s himself sink down onto his bed, his head in his hands.

“What, uh. When’d you… How bad is it?”

The text hadn’t exactly clarified much. just outed myself to my parents and yours, over sunday dinner. everything a lil yikes. thought u should know

“Pretty bad.” Beth’s voice is strangely calm. “Although actually, not quite the worst case scenario? But close, yeah. Real close.”

“Shit,” Whiskey mutters.

“Yeah. My dad’s gone off somewhere – he sort of just got up and left, pretty soon after I’d said it? So that’ll be lots of fun when he gets back. Mom’s a lot calmer, comparatively. Said she needs to think. Which I’ve classified as ambiguous, but not completely hopeless.”

“What about…” Whiskey begins, his tone hoarse, and then he doesn’t finish the sentence.

He can’t finish the sentence.

“Oh, your folks weren’t too bad.” Beth pauses for a moment, as if to think. “I got the feeling they weren’t really angry – it was more like pity, I guess? Which wasn’t super fun either, gotta admit that. Your mom said it’s so sad I’ll never have children, and so of course I had to deliver the news that many lesbian women have plenty of kids, and then she looked, like, super confused. I’m so fucking relieved she stopped asking questions, after that.”

Whiskey gets up, only to sit back down again. He’s trembling all over. It’s almost like he can feel the way his whole world has just shifted, like there’s an actual, physical change between right now and five minutes ago.

"Are you… D'you need anything? What can I do?"

"Oh, Connor." Beth's tone is uncharacteristically soft. "You know, I pretty much knew I’d never have to worry about your reaction. Because actually, I have a feeling you get it – like, really get it. Don’t you?”

Whiskey freezes.

"Considering your hockey team," Beth continues, completely oblivious. "Your captain is the first out something, isn’t he? Which is so cool, by the way, even though I don’t give many fucks about hockey.”

It takes Whiskey a moment to find his voice again.

"First out NCAA men’s hockey captain,” he rattles off, and it’s lucky that’s something he could quote in his sleep, or he’d get the words all mixed up. “Yeah, uh. That was Bitty. He graduated this spring. But our captain this year – Dex – is actually dating his defence partner, so.”

"Defence what now?"

"Another player on our team."

“Wow,” Beth says, and there’s something not unlike wonder in her tone. “I guess it’s all true, those things they say about Samwell.”

“Yeah,” Whiskey returns unsteadily. “You have no idea, Beth.”

Beth is quiet for a moment.

“So I’m flying back tomorrow,” she says, and for some reason her voice sounds a little different from before – more determined. “You know, Samwell is less than a four hour drive from Columbia.”

“Is that so.”

“It is. We could, y’know. Hang out sometime? Anyway, you should meet Melanie.”

“... Oh,” Whiskey says, and it’s like he has to pause and process all over again. “Melanie. Huh.”

“You’ll like Mel,” Beth says eagerly. “And I could meet your team, maybe? That’d be fun.”

“That would be fun,” Whiskey says after a beat – it surprises him, that he actually, genuinely means it. He’s missed Beth. “Yeah. We should do that.”

“See, this is why you’re my favourite cousin.” Beth sounds extremely pleased. “Josh and Amy haven’t even returned my texts, yet.”

“To be fair, they kind of always sucked.”

“You speak the truth, my friend. Nothing but the truth.”

“Seriously, though,” Whiskey says. “If you, like, need anything? Anything at all? Let me know. We’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you.” Beth’s tone is warm. “I think I’ll be fine. Like I said, I’m flying back tomorrow, and once I’m back at school there’s not much mom and dad can do, even if they try. I’m on a full scholarship, plus I’ve already got a paid internship lined up for next summer, so I’m basically financially independent at this point. And I’ve made some really amazing friends at Columbia. They’ll help me out.”

“They’ve got your back?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay. Good.”

“So,” Beth continues, her tone for some reason a bit sly. “Your mom told me you’re back together with that girl from Phoenix? That was right before I dropped the big lesbian bomb on everyone, so I didn’t get to ask her, like, anything.”

“... Yeah,” Whiskey confirms uneasily. “We got back together during spring break last semester, yeah.”

“That’s nice.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Don’t you know?”

“I mean, I don’t see her a lot,” Whiskey tries.

Beth hums. “Long distance, huh. That’s tough.”

“No, that’s not…” Whiskey draws a shaky breath. It’s so much easier to lie to everyone else. “Beth. Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, C.”

“Right.” Whiskey tries to keep his voice steady. “Just, can you promise me to… To pretend like I didn’t actually tell you? To just never bring it up again. Ever.”

“I mean, sure.” Beth’s tone is kind, if a little surprised. “If that’s what you want, sure.”

Whiskey closes his eyes, and breathes in.

“I slept with a guy.”

For a moment, Beth is quiet.

“All right,” she says gently. “You know that’s not the end of the world, right?”

“No, I guess.” Whiskey’s voice is shaking. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

Beth hums. “You want to do it again?”

“We uh, we did.” Whiskey clears his throat. “A few times. Last semester.”

“Hold up,” Beth says, her tone startled. “You’ve been sleeping with a guy? Frequently?”

“Not since last semester,” Whiskey reminds her quickly. “But, uh, yeah. For a while there it was every now and then.”

Beth is quiet for a moment.

“Is this the part where I smoothly change the subject and we never speak of this again? Because I’m, like, dying to get all the details.”

Whiskey almost smiles.

Somehow, breathing feels a little easier than before.

“He’s on the lacrosse team,” he supplies, surprising himself.

“Athletic,” Beth concludes, her tone giddy. “Fit? Hot?”

“Really fit,” Whiskey admits. “And like, tall?”

“Fucking get it, Connor!” Beth laughs. “But you’re not seeing each other, anymore?”

“I’m back together with my girlfriend,” Whiskey reminds her tersely. “And me and that guy weren’t ever officially anything.”

“Right,” Beth agrees easily. “Still. Glad to hear you’re getting the full Samwell experience.”

“You could say that.” Whiskey sighs. “I just. I’m not sure… I don’t think I can ever do what you just did.”

“Okay,” Beth says gently. “Do you have to, though?”

“I mean, eventually,” Whiskey tells her uneasily. “Right? People come out, eventually.”

“Not everyone does. Some people don’t.”

Whiskey blinks.

“There’s really a lot more to being gay than coming out,” Beth continues. “I would know.”

“I’m not gay,” Whiskey says reflexively – and really, he isn’t. Not strictly.

“No labels, then? Cool, cool." There's warmth in Beth's voice as she continues. "You'll figure all of this out, Connor. I'm sure you will."

"You're not the first person to tell me that."

"Let's hope I won't be the last," Beth says brightly. "So. How many people know?"

"Noone," Whiskey says quickly – too quickly. "Well, you know now. Bitty found out accidentally, and I almost told Dex. Plus I guess that guy I was with has a hunch."

"Right," Beth says, and there's no judgement in her tone. "So when we come to see you, this conversation never happened. Obviously, I'm not telling Melanie."

"Yeah," Whiskey agrees. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Beth."

"No problem. And on that happy subject, when’s a good weekend for me and Mel to drive up for some Samwell shenanigans?”

“I can send you our game schedule," Whiskey suggests.

“Connor, you know I love you, but please tell me you don’t expect me to sit through an entire game of sports.”

“I mostly meant so you’ll know when we have away games,” Whiskey says, and to his own surprise he’s grinning slightly. “You know, so that I’m not in fucking New Jersey when you show up here.”

“Okay, fair point.” Beth pauses. “By the way. Are you any good?”

“What, at hockey?”

“No, at table tennis.” The eye-roll is near audible.

“I am,” Whiskey says. “Good, I mean. I’m the top scorer on our team.”

“Well, that’s only good if the team is.”

“You know, maybe you guys should actually drive up for a game weekend,” Whiskey tells her. “It’s really not a complete Samwell experience without a proper post-game kegster.”

“A what now?”

“A party, Beth. A huge party. At the hockey frat.”

“See, now you’re talking,” Beth says excitedly. “Hey. Mind if I bring some friends?”

(ch. 6)