imaginethehaus:

From 555-555-1234:
Can you believe this traffic, bro?

Holster checks his phone, then he checks the number again. He doesn’t recognize it.

To 555-555-1234:
Who’s this?

From 555-555-1234:
Behind you, bro!

Holster turns in his seat to peak through the paint on his back window to look at the car behind him.

A bright smile in a handsome face beamed at him from an older gray Honda Accord. 

From 555-555-1234:
You’ve got your number on your window!

And…that is true. Holster’s driving his dad’s old pickup truck back home for Thanksgiving. He’d taken it to school after his Nissan had crapped out on him. His dad had told him to try and sell it so that they could get a down payment for a safer car with better gas mileage. Holster had decided to go with the tried and true driving advertisement. It’s limited success so far meant he was planning to set up a craigslist ad when he got home for the break.

To 555-555-1234:
I do
You interested in buying man?

From 555-555-1234:
…………

To 555-555-1234:
LOL
So you just hit me up to chat?

From 555-555-1234:
I mean….
We’ve been at a standstill for like 15 min
And I need some sort of distraction from the hunger pains
I did NOT pack enough snacks for this

Holster laughs. This is maybe the weirdest thing to happen to him on a road trip, but the traffic has been maddening and – while it’s a bit hard to tell in the dimming light – Chatty looks cute.

To 555-555-1234:
Alright – how about them Falconers?

As it turns out this was just the right question to ask. Chatty (who goes by Ransom) happens to play intramural hockey at Samwell. He has a LOT of feelings about Alexei Mashkov.

From Ransom:
HE LIFTED KENT PARSON WITH ONE ARM!
Come on, bro!
On ice!

From Holster:
Yes, acknowledged, lol
He’s a specimen 

From Ransom:
Mmm, yes, bro
Specimen!

From Holster:
So you’ve got a type 😉

From Ransom:
Tall, broad defensemen – hell yes

From Holster:
Huh
Good to know

So, you follow SMH at all?

The traffic chooses then to let up and allow them to move, which is maybe for the best. Holster’s not 100% sure what he’s doing (not that it’s stopped him from doing much else in his life), but he’s got some butterflies going and he hasn’t had those since. Well, since, March.

x

From Ransom:
Ok – favorite Disney song?

The traffic’s stalled back out again and Ransom’s been hitting him with a lightening round of 21 questions.

From Holster:
Easy
Hakuna Matata

From Ransom:
Gah!
Did you have to mention food, bro??
I’m starving!

From Holster:
Bruh
Slugs? The tangential mention of bugs has upset you?

From Ransom:
1. The use of three + syllable words – hot
2. I’m THAT hungry

Holster drums his fingers against his steering wheel and eyes the bag full of candy and jerky, protein bars he’d stocked up on before getting on the highway. On one hand, he knows  that inviting strangers into your space is dangerous. On the other hand, there’s a lot of witnesses around, and Ransom actually goes to his school. 

The Haus GroupMe:

Holster: I’m….about to invite a stranger into my car
Lardo: now Adam – we talked about Stranger Danger just last week
Shitty: Holtz, man, I know you and March were serious but…. 
Jack: Birkholtz, no
Nursey: Are they hot?
Dex: Nursey!
Holster: I’m not really sure
Holster: We’ve been texting for the last hour
Lardo: ADAM!
Jack: Birkholtz!
Shitty: Holster!
Holster: Not WHILE driving!
Holster: Traffic’s been shit – I just – we’ve been talking – flirting some
Holster: I think
Nursey: Nice!
Holster: Anyway – just wanted to let you know in case I get murdered
Holster: His name’s Justin Oluransi – goes to Samwell
Chowder: Go with your gut, bro – we’ll file the necessary reports, if needed

From Holster:
I’ve got snacks in the truck if you want to run up

From Ransom:
BRO!

The knock that comes to Holster’s window is quick and sharp. Outside he sees a bundle of hoodie and scarf, a wool hat and hunched shoulders. He pops his lock and Ransom slides inside.

“Oh shit, you’re hot.”

Holster’s momentarily thunderstruck. 1.) He’s never been greeted this way, especially not in his glasses. 2.) He’s pretty sure it’d be trite to repeat someone’s greeting back to them verbatim.

“Also, given that your Adam Birkholtz, Samwell’s defenseman, I’m assuming that statement isn’t going to get me punched. Or – you know – lose me those snacks.”

Holster chuckles.

“Yeah, no – punching you is not – that’s um – you’ve nothing to worry about – I’ve um. Snacks.”

Smooth.

He hands Ransom the bag of goods and watches as he makes his choices, chattering excitedly about the selection. His voice is rich and kind. His smile, so bright from afar, is stunning up close. And his eyes – Holster’s never seen a deeper brown that shone so vividly.

“Thanks, bro! You’ve saved my life!” Ransom says at last. And, with a burst of cold air and the slam of the truck’s ancient door, is gone.

The Haus GroupMe:

Holster: I’m alive
Holster: Also, maybe, in love
Shitty: …..
Lardo: o.o
Lardo: I’m too old for this
Nursey: Go get ‘em, tiger!
Dex: …..
Chowder: Keep us posted, bro