The Falcs shut out the Rangers at home. During the course of the second period, Dex gets a puck to the face. Later, Jack will chirp him for finally looking like a hockey player. Snowy chirps him for doing his job a little too well.
“You don’t have to lay your life on the line for me, for fuck’s sake,” Snowy tells him.
He knew, however, that no amount of chirps or well wishes made up for the fact that his nose was broken. He already has big ears and bright red hair. A crooked nose will totally completely the “gawky white guy” aesthetic he’s been rocking since the day his growth spurt hit in seventh grade.
He’s told he can shower and head out early. Normally, that wouldn’t be allowed. But he can’t play the last period with his nose in a split. When Dex pulls up in front of his apartment building, he steals a few minutes of quiet breathing. Preparing himself for a barrage of questions and concerns.
Dex takes the stairs up to his fourth floor rather than the elevator. As he put his key in the lock, the door flies open. Nursey all but yanks him inside. He proceeds to check every inch of Dex’s face.
“Quit it,” Dex whines.
Nursey tuts. “It looks worse than it did on TV.”
Dex grimaces. “Please tell me you’re the only one who saw it.”
“Nope,” Farmer shouts from her office. “Parse called from the bar too.”
Dex sighs, of course he saw. He trudges to the couch, falling back carelessly. Nursey pats him on the back, heading toward the kitchen.
“Want anything?” Nursey asks.
“A time machine,” he mutters.
“You know no one’s that rich, right?” Nursey chirps.
Dex nods despite the fact that Nursey probably isn’t looking in his direction. “Maybe just leftovers, then.”
Farmer comes out eventually, sitting down next to Dex. She pulls him closer so he can use her shoulder as a pillow.
“It’s not so bad, y’know?” she assures. “You’ll look distinguished.”
“Distinguished is another word for ugly,” Dex argues.
“Remind me never to get you a tweed jacket then,” Nursey says.
“You’d get that for yourself, babe,” Farmer counters.
“True,” Nursey concedes. “Anyway, what’s eating you, Poindexter?”
Dex gestures with one hand, “who’s going to be worse? Chris or Kent?”
“Chris isn’t going to be that bad–” Farmer says at the same time Nursey says “oh good point.”
Dex rolls his eyes. “I know they mean well. I’m just…not up for being fretted over right now.”
Farmer pats him sympathetically. “Tough shit. It’s gonna happen, whether you like it or not.”
He nods, submitting to his fate.
Kent gets home first. He storms through the apartment, forgetting to close the door behind him. (Nursey has to get up to fix that.) Kent moves Dex’s at different angles.
Once he’s satisfied, Kent sighs. “What did I tell you at Anderson?”
“He’s a dirty son of a bitch,” Dex recites.
“And,” Kent says, “not to get on his bad side.”
“I thought you meant that metaphorically,” Dex huffs.
“Nope,” Kent says. He carefully tilts his head, planting a gentle kiss on Dex’s lips. “Glad you’re okay, though.”
Dex grins. “Me too.”
Chris arrives a few minutes later. Kent and Farmer scoot further down the sectional to give them space. Chris stares at Dex’s nose split for a minute.
“Don’t,” Chris interrupts Dex’s protests.
Chris takes Dex’s hands, rubbing circles into his thumbs. Dex squeezes back.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Dex argues.
“I told them not to give you shit,” Chris says. “I fucking hate them sometimes.”
“Hey,” Dex nudges him. “I’ll be fine.”
Chris glares half halfheartedly. “Are you okay? Seriously?”
Dex nods. “I got half the night off, and you’re here. How could I not be?”