Chapter Text
Whiskey sighed and looked up at the Haus. It couldn't have gotten shittier....right? Granted, it had always looked kind of uninhabitable and gross. But as uninhabitable and gross frat houses went, the Haus had always been one of the nicer ones on the block. Whiskey resisted the urge to turn around and check across the street if the Lax house's porch sagged this much, or if it seemed to be so...tilted.
Maybe it was just the fact that he was actually going to live here now. Like, it was one thing to stop by a kegster, or pick up some snacks with Tango. But it was just a little depressing that this was his home.
He tried to remember that as he walked past the scorch mark on the lawn from when Bitty had taken a flamethrower to the Cauch. Maybe those floorboards on the porch had always seemed a little soft. That stale smell of old beer had always been this strong when he opened the front door, though there was no pie scent to cut through it now.
There was muffled music playing somewhere upstairs. The sun streamed in through the windows, unfiltered. Oh, maybe that was it. No curtains. They must have belonged to one of the old guys. No doormat either, he noticed, and briefly considered if he should take off his shoes, before he remembered all the kegsters that had happened on these floors. Whiskey made a mental note to ask about an IKEA run or something.
As he walked towards the stairs, he glanced instinctively into the kitchen, but it was empty. A couple of boxes labeled "Kitchen Shit" were on the counter, halfway unpacked. On the wall by the entrance to the attic, someone had hung up a photo of Bitty and Jack and some of the other old guys holding the Stanley Cup.
When he got up the stairs, the music suddenly got louder as Nursey burst out of the bathroom, a speaker still blasting music in one hand. He started when he saw Whiskey standing in the hall, and then broke out into a huge grin. "Oh, shit! You're here!" He paused the speaker with one hand, the other one occupied with holding up the towel wrapped around his waist.
He moved to go in for a fist bump or a hug or something, and then seemed to realize he was naked and paused awkwardly. Whiskey took mercy on him and did a little salute. "Yeah, I'm here. Hey, man, it's good to see you."
He readjusted his duffel and tried to turn around to go to his room, but the conversation apparently wasn't over. "Wait! How was your summer? You did some prospect camps right?"
Whiskey opened his mouth, but Nursey just kept talking, and walked a little down the hall. "Oh wait, let me get dressed before you answer. Or, actually if you have any more boxes, I can help–wait, I need to get dressed for that too...Well, in the meantime, your room is down the hall–wait, shit, of course you know where it is."
Whiskey nodded and kept walking down the hall, but Nursey followed him, and rapped on the door opposite Whiskey's new room. "Yo, C! Wake up! Whiskey's here!" Nursey gave one last smile and ducked back into his room.
A door shut and a door opened, and Chowder was leaning against his door frame, wiping a hand over his face. "What the fuck, Nursey, about please don't wake me literally for anything do you not–oh! Hey, Whiskey!" Chowder's face lit up with a smile, and Whiskey gave him a little salute.
Behind Chowder, a now fully-clothed Nursey burst into the room from the connecting bathroom. "C, chill! The man just got here, he doesn't need you jumping down his throat." Nursey threw an arm around Chowder and shook his head at Whiskey, like what are you gonna do.
Chowder rolled his eyes, and Whiskey stifled a smile. "Dex is the only other one here so far. He's just out on a Stop-and-Shop run." He gestured towards Whiskey's room. "Do you want help unpacking?"
Whiskey shook his head and shifted the duffel again. "Nah, I moved some boxes in end of last year. Kinda looking forward to taking a couple hours and just unpack by myself, unwind. Long flight, you know?"
Nursey looked a little disappointed, but nodded. "Yeah, man, I got you." Whiskey nodded back and turned around to finally get into his room. He heard Nursey start to talk again. "Hey, Chrissy-boy, now that you're up anyway, you wanna hang out?"
Whiskey shook his head and shut the door behind him. His heart was pounding in his chest a little. He'd known these guys for two years, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was moving in with a bunch of near-complete strangers. After all, it's not like he'd really made an effort to actually hang out with them outside of practice.
Still, he took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm himself. Move-in day was always weird , he reasoned. Give it a week, wait for Tango and Ford to show up, for practice to start.
After his heart stopped fluttering so much, Whiskey's shoulder started to ache, and he threw his duffel on the bed. It was a twin bed, but he didn't mind. Not like he would've had any different in the dorms. Caroline might complain, but it wasn't like she visited overnight that often anymore.
He grabbed a pair of scissors off the desk, and stabbed open one of the boxes on the floor. It had some old textbooks and notebooks, so he started putting them on the shelves above the desk. Tucked in between two biology textbooks that he honestly should probably sell at some point were a couple of pictures. Whiskey paused for a second to stare at them, enjoy the nice twinge in his chest.
The first was one of him, Tango, and Foxtrot sometime during sophomore year. Foxtrot had gotten a polaroid for Christmas, and before she realized that film cost money she had gone through a phase of taking random selfies and just handing them to people. All of them just bundled up on the quad on some random day, Foxtrot the only one actually smiling at the camera.
The other photo was one of him and Caroline from high school graduation, squeezed together in front of the school flagpole. Their parents had made them stay afterwards to take about a million photos; in this one the sun was already starting to set and they were hot and sticky. Somehow his mom had caught the exact moment Caroline had leaned over to whisper some comment in Whiskey's ear, and he was laughing.
Whiskey grabbed a random notebook off the shelf, opened it to a random page and wrote down scotch tape . Then he took out his phone and sent a quick text.
To: Caroline
Just got in. Unpacking now
From: Caroline
thanks for letting me know. send pics when youre done!
To: Caroline
Not like it'll look any diff than last year lol
Want to talk tonight?
From: Caroline
doesnt mean i dont still want to see it lol
and sorry i cant. :/ mom wants me to set up for gemma's going away party.
tomorrow tho?
To: Caroline
Sounds good. Tell your mom and Gemma I say hi
She didn't reply right away, and Whiskey grabbed the pen again and added IKEA run? below the previous note. After another second, he grabbed his phone again.
To: Caroline
Ok I'm gonna start packing now x
From: Caroline
they say hi back. remember pictures! x
When he was pretty much done unpacking, Whiskey swung down into the kitchen, hoping the fridge wasn't completely empty. He never ate enough on travel days. Something about the plane air made him whatever the opposite of hungry was, and there was only so long he could be sustained by the muffin his mom had shoved in his hand on the way to the airport.
He was caught up in vague daydreams about a ham and cheese sandwich, when he noticed that someone was already in the kitchen. Dex was standing at the counter, his hair obscenely red in the setting sun. He was messing with something sizzling on the stove, humming absentmindedly to whatever song was coming through his headphones. The boxes from before were neatly flattened and stacked in the corner by the trash can. Whiskey stood in the doorway, suddenly self-conscious.
After a couple seconds, Dex turned around and gasped a little, and then smiled when he saw who it was. "Hey, man. The guys said you were here. We thought you weren't coming until tomorrow."
"Nah, that's Foxtrot." Whiskey moved into the kitchen, and went to the fridge to inspect.
"Hm?" Whiskey turned back around. Dex was leaning back against the counter, his head cocked. Something spattered at him out of the skillet, and he jumped and went to turn down the heat.
"Uh, Ford." Whiskey cleared his throat. "Me and Tango call her Foxtrot." He turned back to the open fridge, feeling stupid. It was fully stocked, presumably from the Stop-and-Shop run, but all the ingredients were stuff that he would have to cook. Whiskey was kind of weird about other people being around when he was preparing his meals. He closed the door and leaned against it, trying to think of a way to leave without being rude.
"Oh, right. I thought I remembered something like that." Dex had picked up his spatula again, stirring what Whiskey could now see was fried rice. It smelled amazing. His stomach grumbled audibly, and Dex looked up at the sound. "Do you want some of this? I'm almost done, and I'm realizing it's like, way too much food for one person."
"Are you sure?" The pan was pretty full, but Dex was also a pretty big guy. He'd tried to bulk up a bit himself over the summer, but Dex was still a d-man, and could do a pretty good impression of a brick wall.
"Yeah, totally. This is more of a snack, anyways. Nurse and Chowds were talking about ordering a pizza or something? Wait, actually-" Dex pulled out his phone and started typing something. Whiskey's phone started buzzing in his pocket, and he grabbed some bowls and forks from the cabinet before reaching down to check it.
Will Poindexter formed a group
Will named the group Haus 2017–2018
From: Will
Whisk and I are starving we gonna order that pizza or
From: Chris
yeah!!! give us a second we'll be right down
From: Denice
can i have a slice? 🥺
Chowder walked into the kitchen, balancing a laptop on his forearm. "So, how do you guys feel about mushrooms? Cait loves them, but we could always do half and half or something?"
"Uh, I like mushrooms?" Whiskey maneuvered around Dex to scoop some of the rice into his bowl, and grabbed a seat at the table across from Chowder.
"Wait, is Farmer coming?" Nursey appeared in the doorway, typing on his phone. Whiskey's phone buzzed away on the table.
From: Derek
yah what's ur addy
Denice loved Derek's message "yah what's ur addy"
Chowder blushed and looked up from the laptop screen for a second. "Yeah, her plane just got in...is that okay?"
Nursey slapped Chowder on the shoulder and pulled out the third seat next to Whiskey, still tapping away at his phone. "Nah, bro, at this point it's weird when I see you guys not together. Honestly, I'm surprised you don't pack her in a suitcase for roadies."
From: Derek
also jesus dex do i have to do everything fun myself
Derek named the group and they were hausmates
"Dude, I'm in the fucking room with you," Dex called from his perch on the counter, before shoving another forkful of rice.
"And?" Nurse smiled back at him, his teeth brilliantly white. Whiskey's phone buzzed again.
From: Denice
omg they were hausmates!!
You liked Denice's message "omg they were hausmates!!"