#i can't write nursey well bc/ he reminds me of myself

[snackzimmerman]

Nursey leaves poetry all over their room.

This wouldn’t be A Big Deal (even though a year ago, there would have been a reckoning so great that not even pie could smooth it over) except for the fact that it’s.  Well.  The sappiest thing Will has ever read.  He hasn’t brought it up yet, but -

“It’s weird, right?” he asks, fidgeting with a pencil.

Chowder draws another shark doodle in the margins of Will’s notes.  It’s a small price to pay.  “We’re seniors, dude.  I’d write lovestruck poetry over Cait, if I thought it would turn out well.”

“Your poetry is terrible,” Will informs him, and is promptly hit in the face by a notebook.  “I’m saving your relationship!”

“I’m just saying, graduation makes people sentimental!”  Chowder retorts.

Will rolls his eyes.  “There’s plenty of time until graduation.”

“Dex,” Chowder says suspiciously, “you’ve started your senior thesis, right?”

“Yes,” Will replies, because he has.  Kind of.  He’s got a rough outline.  “I’m not Bitty, Cap.”

“No, you are not.”  Chowder sighs, both in relief and disappointment, and waves a hand at him.  “Now make me some pies, Bitty replacement.”

“Technically, the captain made pies last year.”  Will grumbles, but he climbs off Chowder’s bed and leaves him alone.

“Nobody wants me to make the desserts, Dex!”  Chowder calls after him.

Considering the poetry is Nursey’s, it’s pretty good.  As far as Will can tell at least - words have never been his strong suit.  He can’t even consistently string sentences together in his own head.  His roommate listens to classical music and musical theater and songs that have messages instead of easily repeatable choruses.

What is the point of listening to something that takes you hours to memorize.

Will thinks the issue is that Nursey and romance have rarely been linked together in his mind, because all he seems to do is date someone for a few months, avoid introducing them to anyone on the team, and then get dumped.  Then Will and Chowder have to throw him a pity party, which Nursey inevitably seems to enjoy more than the relationship.

Those are the facts.

However, the newest fact is that Nursey is writing sappy poetry, which he’s never done before, and there’s been absolutely zero mention of anyone new - secretive weirdo.  He’s always at least told them there’s someone, in the past.  Will knows for a fact that Nursey would be pissed if he pulled this kind of shit.  Probably because he has.  Last year.  Whoops.

“Seriously, Dex, I think six months is enough time to tell us!”  Chowder complains, crossing his arms in an attempt at anger.  The pout he’s sporting ruins the effect.

Nursey throws another eraser at him.  Will is fairly certain he bought a new pack just for this purpose, which is cheating, because now Will can’t steal one of those erasers every time he needs one.  “Chyeah.  Very unchill.”

“The word chill has lost its meaning,” Will says sagely, and the offended look Nursey gives him almost quells his urge to murder.  “But we broke up.  End of story.  I’m telling you about him now.”

“Why not before, though?”  Nursey sulks.  He’s not even throwing his eraser.

“Oh, like you can talk.”

So.  Interrogation it is.

“Nursey.”

“Dex.  Chowder.”

Muffled whispers.  “He didn’t leave me with anything to say.”

“Stick to the script, Chow.”

“I really don’t see why the cop light is necessary,”  Nursey speaks up, unimpressed.  Wordlessly, Will switches it off.

Chowder slams a stack of papers down on the desk.  “Derek Nurse, as your captain, I demand you tell us who you’re writing about.  There are papers everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Nursey frowns.

Will pulls another few papers from his pockets, slapping them down one after the other.  “Dining table.  Blender.  Couch.  Shower.  Oven.”

“How did those even get in there?”  Nursey mumbles, and Chowder presses his index fingers to his lips.

As much as Will wishes he could take credit for stashing them in enough places to create a problem, Nursey’s done that all on his own.  Chowder being on his team just outweighs the distress at baking a pie that came out covered in flaming paper.

Possibly out of guilt, Nursey had fearfully eaten an entire piece as Will made aggressive, angry eye contact.

Will grabs Nursey’s face in his hands and shakes it.  “Please.  I have read so much more than I ever wanted.”

“You’ve read them?”  Nursey yelps, at the same time Chowder points out “Nobody’s making you read them.”

“Also,” Will says slowly, scanning the latest poem.  “If she has hair this short, and she wears flannel, and - is the red hair natural? - dude, she might be a lesbian.  Like, totally not judging, but that’s kind of a style.”

Nursey looks like he wants to die.  Chowder looks like he wants to kill him.  “... how many of these have you read?”

“Maybe…” Will thinks back to when the poems started, months ago.  “A hundred?”  

As Nursey slowly pulls his hoodie over his head, Chowder stares at him with deadened eyes.

Gradually, Will starts to realize that this may have been a serious breach of privacy, in which case he’s a dick.  “I don’t mean to, but they’re in our room, Nurse.  Our shared room.”

Nursey lets out a high keening sound.

“... I’m really sorry?” he tries, and Chowder pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You should be,” he says, and leaves.

Nursey shows no signs of reemerging from his sweatshirt cocoon, so Will hesitantly settles in the seat next to him.  “So.  Freckles?  That’s kind of a lame thing to write so much about.”

“I like them,” Nursey grumbles, and Will feels.  Hmm.  Warm.  His face is warm, that’s gross and he hates it, okay then.

Nursey’s hypothetical person probably has nice, controlled ones across the bridge of their nose.  That’s always cute, even if Will himself doesn’t look for it.  He likes… something else, that’s dangerous to think about.

He rolls his shoulders, as if he can roll the thought out of his mind.  Nursey groans, emerges from his hoodie, and blinks up at Will like he’s mad.  “You suck.”

“What have I done now,” Will deadpans, “beside invade your personal privacy and interrogate you about something I have no business knowing.”

Nursey always looks at him like he’s looking at his whole face, instead of just his eyes.  “Figure it out.”

“Very mature.”

“Chill,” Nursey drawls, corners of his mouth poking up, and Will watches the shift.

Uh.  Okay.  Maybe Nursey and romance are tied closer together in his mind than he thought.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” his mouth manages, and Nursey blinks at him.  Stupid betrayer of a mouth.  “Could I - guess who it is?”

“Oh my god.”

“Do they have glasses,” Will starts, and Nursey pushes him out of his seat.

“No,” Nursey says through gritted teeth, “because they are stupid and take care of their eyes and are you.”

Will blinks up at him.  “Actually, I might need glasses in a few years.”

Then he grabs Nursey’s arm, pulls himself up, and flicks the string of his hoodie.  “I’m ‘like a tiger lily’?  Had to look that one up, by the way.”

“Fuck off my similies,” Nursey moans, and Will links their arms together to prevent his escape.  “I had written a lot.”

“This creates unfair expectations,” Will informs him, “because now I have to code, like, two hundred programs that somehow express affection.”

“Or,” Nursey suggests, “you could just go out with me.”

“Very poetic,” Dex says, and runs out the door before Nursey can tell him that the correct word is ‘eloquent’.  “Meet you at Annies!”