#happy thanksgiving nurseydex babes

[flowerflamestars]

Cue Crave Response snippet

The sixth time Derek kissed his ex-husband went like this: fogged glass not foggy enough, surrounded by scents of a hundred spices he’d filled a kitchen with in a house where he could no longer live.   Cinnamon cardamom clove kisses, Dex’s hands still half coated in sugar and butter, sliding gritty against his skin.   Everything warm and everything beautiful and everything such a bad, bad goddamn idea.   The original pantry of the house had been a coopted linen closet to start with. They hadn’t gutted the kitchen- they’d restored it, old roaring gas stove and terrifying oven. Stripped shitty seventies paint from dark gleaming wood, found pretty victorian bones hiding in this place that had been made and remade over and over before they’d found it.   But the pantry wouldn’t do.

So Dex had knocked down a wall and changed the shape of room- built just for Derek a weird little window nook just for sitting in, cushioned and sunlit. Three steps later a pantry- the one and only real estate agent they’d had come in before they never, ever again mentioned the idea of selling the house and starting over in the divorce had called it a butlers pantry- pretty glass doors and shelved walls, curve of a cabinet Moppet had teethed on digging into Derek’s hip.   Thanksgiving.   Fucking goddamn trash of a holiday American Thanksgiving.   Derek had brought a date.   His sister was ten feet away, down the hall, helping the kids destroy a pumpkin for roasting.   If he opened his eyes- if he stopped- it would be like nothing had ever happened. Cardamon clove cinnamon, Dex’s borrowed recipe brightened and made anew. Made theirs. Black coffee kisses and brown sugar freckles, everything he’d loved since he was eighteen years old, unchanged.