Dean Portman heard the shouting the moment he stepped into the hall. For the tuition that Eden Hall charged, he figured that the dorm room walls could stand to be a little thicker. But maybe that was for the teachers and monitors could keep track of what was happening from the hall. Lord only knew how many plans of his had been busted because someone had overheard something they shouldn't.
Lingering outside his dorm room, he listened to the voices of his teammates shouting over and around each other, giving and taking and arguing without pause.
The annual trick of the hockey captain was big news in their circle. For three years, Charlie had been targeted. Senior year, Adam had been chosen as captain. Now, the Ducks were trying to go all out and exceed all the tricks that had been played on Charlie.
He could just turn around and leave; supper would begin soon and he wasn't in the mood for their chatter. Portman might consider them family but he wouldn't hesitate to tell them that they had some shitty ideas.
Pushing open the door, his brows rose as the shouting became even clearer. The plans were being thrown around like confetti and were tenuous as glass. "Being around you people makes me feel like a genius." Silence fell as they looked at him.
"You don't fucking talk like one," Fulton retorted, glaring at Portman from the vicinity of his bed. None of his teammates were on his bed which told him that it was probably time to change his sheets.
Portman smiled because Fulton's pout always made him want to lean in and take a taste. He had more sense than that because Fulton had no idea that his mouth turned Dean on.
Or maybe he did because Fulton's bottom lip poked out even further. "What would you do?"
"Nothing." Portman slid off his leather jacket and fell back on his bed.
Averman squawked, reddish curls flying everywhere. "It's tradition."
"Yeah, and Adam is expecting it."
Fulton's glower disappeared as he understood Portman's point. His hazel eyes were amused and he tipped his head in Portman's direction. "That's…fucking genius."
Portman smiled smugly as their teammates voices exploded around them again. "Shut the fuck up!" he yelled when Averman brought up the snake idea again. "Listen," he said more quietly, rising up on one elbow. "Adam is expecting a trick so if we don't do anything then he'll get more and more paranoid. It's perfect."
They overruled him so he flopped back on the mattress and covered his face with his pillow. A half hour later, the Ducks left, still planning, and Fulton groaned when the door shut behind them. "Averman has an unhealthy obsession with that snake."
Portman laughed and pushed the pillow off his face to take a deep breath of fresh air. His sheets were rank. "I could have told you that a long time ago."
Fulton fell back on his bed, rolling over to eye Portman. "Because you're a genius," he said mockingly, mouth curving in amusement.
"Truth hurts," he replied flippantly and closed his eyes. The silence was comforting for two guys who rarely were and if it was tense, he just blamed it on himself.
Portman's stomach rumbled and he looked over at Fulton. Rolling off the bed, he stood in one quick motion. "Let's go eat," he said because Fulton's lip was poking out again and his self-control was unraveling around him.
If he'd been listening, he would have heard Fulton's soft sigh of regret behind him.
Maybe he didn't because his own quiet exhalation was full of relief that he hadn't done anything to ruin their friendship.