Dex was NOT ready for what awaited in his mailbox today
ALSO: Keep reading if you wanna see what the actual love letters are!!
(courtesy of my best friend @aristocrating who offered to write them all without me even having thought of that)(they're all SO good)
Chowder:
DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!YOUâRE MY BEST FRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (other than nursey, ofc!)
OK THATâS ITTTT KTHXBYE!!!!
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Bitty:
Dear Dex,
Youâre a real sweetheart! Thank you for always helpinâ with the baking, and for always having an open ear for the newest gossip. You take care of the Haus so well, and you always give it your all for the team. I really admire that about you!
I would bake the world into a giant pie just for you, if I could! (Sorry Iâm not as much of a poet as Nursey, I suppose!)
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Ransom & Holster:
Yooo Dex! Dexter! Sexy Dexy! PokĂŠDex! (read alternating in mine and Holtzâs voice)
Youâre the coolest fucking bro on the whole damn team, and youâre hot as FUUUUUCK! (literally hot, too! write that down, Rans! Write that down!)
If youâre ever interested in a little d-men action, a little bro-bonding quality time, then hit us up!
Ps: haus 2.0 has a room thatâs pretty much just a sex dungeon, if youâre into that kind of thing (donât scare him off Rans, jeez!)
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Jack:
Hello Dex,
I was encouraged to send you one of these, by, euh, third parties who will go unnamed. I just wanted to write to you to say that, um. Your hands are soft as hell, and you always bring it your all to the ice. You give Samwell Menâs Hockey the good name it has, and it is an honor that I got to share the locker room with you for a whole year. Euh, I mean the ice. Yeah. Take care, eh?
Hi Dex, sorry this is not a love letter. This is just to say to please give my boyfriend back in one piece once youâre done with him, I still need him!
Thanks xx
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Parse:
Dear Will,
Ever since I saw you at that party, I knew you were something special. How did I get your home address? Donât worry about it. My point is: youâre really fucking hot and you should let me know the next time youâre in Vegas. I could show you around town and introduce you to some Aces, and then I could show you the Strip, if you know what I mean. Was that too corny? Whatever.
(for the @polyamships fellas, the characters in order are William Poindexter, Chris Chow, Eric Bittle, Justin Oluransi, Adam Birkholtz, Jack Zimmermann, Connor Whisk, Caitlin Farmer, Kent Parson, and Derek Nurse) (promise I won't do these many characters so often sorryyyyyy <3<3<3)
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For Day Four (Summer Lovinâ) of @dexrarepairweek â . Posted to ao3Â
Dex is sweating in places that he doesnât want to think about and shifts uncomfortably, trying to to find a position where his skin isnât sticking to itself. Heâs in the shade, no use denying he burns even under cloud cover and with a fresh layer of sunscreen, stretched out on his stomach and wondering when Ransomâs gonna get bored of lying out on the patchy grass that passes as the Hausâ front lawn.
From the looks of him, it wonât be any time soon. His skin is glowing in the sun, and Dex can see a lot of it what with his shirt being used as a pillow and his shorts rucked up for âmaximum thigh exposureâ, and he doesnât look grossly sweaty like Dex feels, long limbs sprawled across his towel like he doesnât have a care in the world. This heat suits him. Dex makes a face; heâs better suited to heat if itâs countered by the spray of waves but heâs not going home this summer. Neitherâs Ransom, whoâs staying at the Haus until he goes to Boston to start consulting, so theyâve taken to lying out on the front lawn on their days off, just enjoying being still and together before real life starts up again in August.
âYouâre staring babe,â Ransom says, eyes closed behind his sunglasses.
âItâs hot,â Dex grumbles, wiping his sweaty forehead on his arm. It does nothing but transfer the grossness; blond arm hairs plastered to his skin now. âUgh yuck.â Wiping it on the ground is even worse; dirt and pebbles get mixed in with the sweat on his arm. He rearranges so he can rub the mess onto his towel.
âItâs summer.â Ransomâs turned on his side, elbow bent so he can prop his head in his hand, and looking not unlike heâs posing to have his portrait painted like a French girl. It gives him a height advantage to look down at Dex over his sunnies. âYou canât tell me you donât sweat in Maine?â
Dex tuts and pushes himself up, sitting back against the Haus porch and resting his elbows on bent knees. âYeah, but I was always doing something to like work up the sweat. I dunno, I didnât just lie and marinate in it.â
âBro, such a way with words,â Ransom says, nose wrinkled. He pushes his sunglasses onto his forehead. ââMarinating in sweatâ- really paints a nice picture.â
âYou at least look good doing it,â Dex says. He waves a hand over Ransomâs⌠well everything. Heâs kept his bulk from the season, even adding to it after the stress of finals and grad finished and he had time to eat properly. Thereâs a bead of sweat rolling from his neck to his well-defined pecs that Dex would lick if they werenât in the front yard. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. âIâm a red mess.â He feels that his hair stays standing up on end; from the sunscreen remnants on his hand or the sweat from his hairline, he doesnât know but Ransom doesnât bother hiding his amused grin. He gets up, stomach flexing, and knee walks from his towel onto Dexâs.
âThatâs a look,â he says, settling in the v of Dexâs legs. He just barely fits; the insides of Dexâs knees are pressed right to his sides. Ransom uses Dex to balance himself, hands a comforting, not smothering, heat on his skin.
âIf you come any closer, Iâm gonna sweat on you Jay,â Dex warns, eyeing Ransom warily. Itâs half a warning, half a request. Ransom might look good covered in sweat, but that doesnât mean Dex wants his sweat on him in this context. Ransom ignores Dex completely and gets even further into Dexâs space, left hand slipping down Dexâs grossly clammy thigh to rest on his hip. He brings his right hand up, raising an eyebrow for permission. Dex rolls his eyes, but nods and Ransom grins and attempts to tame Dexâs hair, fingers tugging lightly at the strands and scratching at his scalp. Itâs soothing. The heat in Dexâs cheeks isnât entirely from the sun when Ransom leans back to study his work.
âYou done?â Dex asks when Ransomâs been staring a while. The sweat beading at Dexâs temples canât make much of a pretty picture
âWill, let me look.â Ransom grabs Dexâs chin to tilt his head this way and that. Dex huffs, but doesnât make another sound until Ransom surges forward so suddenly that the surprised sound Dex makes gets muffled by Ransomâs grin. Ransom kisses like he always does, lips soft against Dexâs, but the hand Ransom brings to Dexâs face is sweaty.
Dex breaks the kiss to glare.
âDid you just facewash me with sweat?â he asks, appalled at the six-foot-something âadultâ in his lap. Ransomâs smile is innocent but he doesnât deny anything. He squawks though when Dex clamps his knees around him and flips them so Ransomâs on his back and Dex has gravity working for him as he wipes his sweaty face along Ransomâs neck and chest. He gets an elbow to the stomach as Ransom tries to wiggle free or wipe something else sweaty on Dex. Heâs not really sure what the strategy is.
Embarrassingly soon, considering theyâre both college athletes, theyâre out of breath from laughing as they wrestle and now thereâs grass and dirt where Dex doesnât want to think about from having managed to roll off both towels. It was an all out war when they decided throwing dirt clumps was fair game.
âYou wanna get ice cream?â Ransom asks eventually. Heâs on his back again with a trail of sweat cutting through the dirt smear along his cheekbone. From his position under Ransomâs arm, Dex feels his chest moving up and down and up and down. It would have been perfect if they had managed to fall in the shade.
âYeah.â Dex blows out a breath, still comfortable despite the sun burning his skin. Neither makes a move and Dex struggles to keep his eyes open. Ransomâs even breathing and the way he idly traces patterns into Dexâs shoulder is extremely relaxing considering theyâre lying in the dirt. Heâs not 100% sure Ransom isnât rubbing more dirt into Dexâs arm now that he thinks about it. âYouâre gross though, we should shower,â he says.
Ransom hums agreeably. âYeah, and Iâm not going anywhere with you until you fix your hair.â
Dex pinches Ransomâs thigh. âDick, you were fixing it!â
âI never said that.â Ransom shoves Dex off his shoulder and rolls to his feet. Dex takes the hand he offers. Without discussing it, they pick up and shake out their towels, Ransom sneezing at the dust. They hang the towels over the porch rail to air out overnight and Dex makes a mental note to bring them in before work in the morning. If heâs being honestly though, theyâll probably stay there till their next day off or it rains, whichever comes first.
âIâm getting a triple scoop,â Ransom tells Dex seriously. He has his shirt tucked into the waistband of his shorts and the sunglasses they almost broke while wrestling hanging around his chin like a douchey chinstrap. âStrawberry gelato.â
âAnd?â
âThatâs it.â
âWaste of a triple scoop.â
Dex lets them into the Haus, shaking his head. He knows Ransom is sticking his tongue out at him without having to turn around and swiping a hand down Ransomâs face in an approximation of a no-look facewash confirms it. Ransom still follows him up to the bathroom where they shuck their clothes and donât bother with the hot water before getting in, leaving the door wide open. Dexâs skin is definitely burnt and Ransomâs is hot to touch so cold water is a welcome relief.
The relief is short lived once they leave the shower and have to put on clothes though. Dexâs solution is to keep them off. Itâs not difficult to convince Ransom.
Their shadows are longer when they finally stumble back out of the Haus and itâs still hot. Dexâs shirt sticks to his back but he doesnât complain. Itâs easy to ignore when Ransomâs kisses are also sticky and taste like summer too.