#the one with Dex in the red shirt is a good few months before he left to join CRIME

[dammarchy211]

THE COMMITTEE FOR RAPACIOUS INTERLOPERS AND MANIACAL ESPERS !

drawing dump I definitely can’t fit all of them in but here’s most of em lol. Neo Cortez the founder and Head of C.R.I.M.E. Got a complete redo which I actually Like now so’ll probably expand on him more

[sincerelyreidburke]

won’t you lay me down

Hi, I wrote some CCU hurt/comfort fluff. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but bear with me.

In which: Derek has a bad mental health day. Will has his back.

Also on ao3!

///

Will doesn’t see the text at first.

It’s not really his fault. Monday mornings are busy. After morning practice at 6:30 (Will likes that better than evening practice, and as captain he’s tried to keep the practice schedule relatively consistent), he has a meeting with Hall and Murray for thirty minutes while the rest of the team filters out to their respective morning activities and routines. It’s the last he sees of Derek until the afternoon, every Monday— because after Will’s meeting with the coaches, he’s straight off to his internship in Boston for the rest of the morning, then comes back to campus for his 2:30 CS 381 class.

So when the text comes in, he’s mid-transit from Boston to Samwell, sitting in traffic on 128. As a general rule, he doesn’t check his phone while driving. Also, why the fuck is there so much traffic in the middle of the day on a Monday.

He doesn’t understand Massachusetts drivers.

Anyway. It’s when he gets back to campus that he sees it, sitting in his lockscreen over the wallpaper of him and Derek.

18m ago

Derek: do u mind if i chill in the basement

Derek: can’t focus in my room, c is playing music

Oh. Will unlocks his phone, sitting in his student parking spot. He and Derek use each other’s rooms all the time, even outside of their constant sleeping-over in each other’s. Many a time has he returned from class, internship, or other obligation to find his boyfriend hanging out in the bungalow.

They have their own spaces in the Haus, but they do their fare share of, well. Sharing.

Sry just saw this , he sends back. Was drivung. Of cuorse you can use the basment

He looks at the text thread for a second, then sends a <3 after his message, and tucks his phone away again.

On to the next thing.

Class is sort of tedious today, but what’s worse than it is the actual trek back to the Haus from the compsci building, because it’s frigid outside, a chill that gets to his bones even in his winter jacket and the beanie he stole from Derek. In typical New England February fashion, it’s supposed to snow tonight, or at least that’s what he thinks he heard from someone at his internship this morning. He spent most of his shift working out a kink in his supervisor’s code, and he was lost in the numbers and symbols for hours.

He likes it. It’s satisfying to figure out a program.

When he reaches the Haus, finally , Whiskey and Ford are hanging out in the kitchen. He waves to them on his way by, then wonders if he should bake tonight. Maybe after his homework, he can make cookies. The pie he made this weekend is gone already, because all three of the freshmen were here yesterday, nothing he bakes lasts long in their presence.

Will heads straight downstairs, and the door to his room is closed; the lights inside look like they’re off. He eases it open, reaching for the light switch. Derek must have finished whatever he was doing.

Or— not.

Derek is here, and he can tell because he hears Dwayne Johnson singing. He freezes with his hand on the light-switch before he can turn it on, and steps all the way into the room instead, where he catches sight of him— or at least catches sight of what he knows is him, under several layers of cover.

Derek has burrowed himself into Will’s bed with his laptop, and he’s watching Moana , the light of the screen on his face the only source of any light in the room at all. He’s wearing Will’s Samwell hoodie, the good one with Poindexter and 24 and C on the sleeve, and its hood is pulled over his head, strings drawn to make his face look like a blue-lit mask poking out of it. He looks only half-invested in the movie, because he’s resting his face on his arm, scrunched up to the pillow.

Will’s stomach turns. Bedridden Derek in his stolen sweatshirt and Moana are a combination that can only mean one thing.

He closes the door, gently, behind himself. “Der?”

It appears that this is the first Derek actually notices that someone else has entered the room. Will hears the click of the space bar, and the Rock halts mid-chorus. “Oh,” comes Derek’s voice from his blanket cocoon, and it’s small and drawn, the opposite of his loud bravado. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi.” Will drops his backpack at the door, then goes directly to him, crouching on the steps that get him to the loft bed. “Hey,” he says, across the laptop. “Are you okay?”

Derek pauses. He purses his lips at his computer screen, then sighs and lowers it. “Ch’yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m alright.”

With the laptop closed, Will reaches for his face. He cups his stubbly cheek in one hand, runs his thumb across his cheekbone. Derek looks blank, drained. Will knows this demeanor well by now.

“No, you’re not,” he whispers. Without the light of the laptop, it’s nearly dark inside. The slivers of gray daylight from where Derek pulled the shade on the window are all that remain.

Derek breathes in like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He nuzzles his face into Will’s pillow a little more.

“Der,” Will whispers. He kneels on the steps, pauses his thumb by Derek’s ear. “Gray day?”

Derek whimpers a little, like it pains him to admit it, but nods. “Yeah.”

Will keeps gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “This morning?”

Derek bites his lip. “Didn’t feel it this morning.”

“Oh.” Will pauses. “When did it hit you?”

He closes his eyes. “When I got back to the Haus.”

Will frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Derek’s eyes are still closed. He shakes his head. “You couldn’tve known, babe.”

For a moment, the room is quiet. Will pushes Derek’s laptop aside a little. “What can I do?”

Derek takes his time, answering. Will is patient. He knows how to do this. He slides his hand into his curls under the hood; they’re matted, and they’ll be worse if he just lays in bed for the rest of the day. “You want to tie your hair?”

Derek takes a long breath.

“You don’t have to,” Will adds. “But if it’ll help you for later…”

“My scarf’s upstairs,” Derek mumbles, weakly, like upstairs is a continent away.

“It’s okay,” Will tells him. “I can get it, baby.”

Derek’s face contorts a little, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t; he just opens his eyes. His eye contact is distant, like he’s staring more into space than back at Will, but he’s trying, and Will knows that. “I love you,” he whispers, and then, “I don’t feel well.”

“I know,” Will hushes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek groans.

“Never be sorry,” Will says. “Ever.” He kisses his forehead, feather-light, and then tells him, “I love you too. And I’m gonna go get your scarf, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Derek winces again, like something hurts. He nods, though, slowly, and rests his cheek on the pillow again. Will pulls back to go, but God, it’s hard, because he knows how much Derek hates being alone when he feels like this, and he’s already been in here by himself for God knows how long—

Okay, he’ll only be gone a minute. But even so, he feels the need to fill that space. He climbs down to his bookshelf, reaches onto its center shelf between Derek’s poetry books, and grabs hold of his oldest friend.

“Here,” he whispers, bringing Cromwell up so Derek can see. “Do you want a friend?”

Derek eyes the plush lobster, and though he doesn’t look like he has an ounce of energy to smile, his eyes soften. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Will hands him over, and Derek engulfs the little red thing in his sea of blankets, resting him right under his nose. The visual would be cute, if Derek weren’t in such a bad spot. Will caresses his cheek again, then smooths the few curls that are poking out of the hood. “Be right back, baby,” he says. “Do you know where your scarf is?”

Derek pauses, then shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” Will assures him. “I’ll find it.”

This was hard, at first, being so new to this side of him, and not knowing how to help him. But they’ve been together for eight months, and Will knows Derek’s gray days by now, knows the tells for when he’s feeling down, knows a few remedies that help to ease the numbness.

He makes a beeline for Derek’s room upstairs as fast as his legs can carry him. The space itself is even evidence that Derek isn’t feeling himself; there are more clothes on the floor than usual, and the bed is unmade, and his desk looks like his notebook exploded. Will sifts through his dresser drawers, between Samwell shirts, pairs of gym shorts, random articles of Will’s own clothing that’ve been stolen, but there’s no sight of the green headscarf he wears sometimes to bed. He moves his search to the desk, and then to the actual bed, and he’s about to give up when he finds it tucked between the down comforter and the sheets.

Success. He heads back downstairs.

“Hey, Dex, is Nursey in your room?”

“Oh—” Will halts in the kitchen doorway. The question came from Ford; she’s still at the counter. “Yeah,” he replies, poking his head around the corner. Tango has now joined the kitchen gathering. “He’s just watching a movie.”

“Oh, cool.” Ford nods. “I just didn’t know if he was in the Haus. I thought I saw him go down there, like, two hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Will says, “he’s with me.”

Tango waves. “Hi, Dex!”

“Hey, Tango.” Will opens the basement stairs door.

Chowder knows this version of Derek as well as Will does, but the rest of the team doesn’t. It’s what’s buried under the chill, what he could never stand to let people know about himself.

Derek’s brain is awful to him sometimes.

Back in his room, he finally takes off his winter jacket and closes the door behind him, then climbs up the steps to his bed again. Derek is still snuggling with Cromwell, but his laptop has moved; he’s pushed it to the pouch adjacent to Will’s headboard where he keeps his phone, occasional book, and other random stuff while he sleeps.

Will unfolds the scarf. It’s silky smooth. “Gave up on Moana ?” he hums.

Derek rolls over and nods. Will kicks his sneakers off, then crawls onto the mattress, which squeaks a little under both their weight. He slides a hand under his back— Derek is very, very warm, but that’s the way he likes to be when he’s like this— and eases him up into a sitting position. “Sit up for me, babe?”

Derek moves with his touch, nice and easy, and when Will has him sitting up, he slots himself against his back, lets Derek lean on him. “You want me to talk?” he asks as he pulls the hood off his head. “Or do you like the quiet?”

Derek hums a little. “Talk. Please.”

“Okay.” Will combs through his curls, then pulls the scarf tight around them. He learned this on YouTube, after his third time hearing post-funk Derek lament that his depression was ruining his hair. “It’s supposed to snow,” he tells him. “Five inches.”

Derek groans. “Fuck that.”

“I know,” Will mumbles. “But if classes get cancelled, I’ll make cookies.”

“Mm.” Derek hums again, as Will pulls the knot at the back of his neck tight. “What kind?”

“Still deciding.” He hooks his arms around his neck, pulls him close, and kisses his cheek. “You can file a request, if you want.”

“Snickerdoodle.”

“Done.”

“Thank you.” Derek pauses. “For tying my hair.”

Will noses into his neck, drops a kiss there, and then moves back up to his face. “Of course, Der.” He turns him a little, cups his face in one hand. Derek still looks gray, and he looks, God, he looks so tired ; he always does when he’s like this, but it pains Will every time.

He wants to take every ounce of hurt away from him.

“What can I do?” he asks.

Derek takes a long breath while he thinks about it. His words, on these days, come slowly. “Um.” He nods to himself, like he’s thinking about it. “Do you have homework?”

Will shakes his head. “I have plenty of time to do it.”

“Okay.” Derek pauses, then, “Lay with me?”

“Yeah.” Will nods. “Ayuh. Of course.”

They wind up curled into the blanket pile, with Derek pressed tight against Will’s chest, a little further down the bed than him so he can tuck his face into his shoulder. Will presses a kiss to the top of his scarf, holds him as close as he can. He knows the pressure helps him, eases his brain a little. Cromwell rests on the pillow, somewhere near the both of them. He’s a little extra moral support.

“Thank you, Will,” Derek says, with an exhale, as he nuzzles into his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Will replies. “Always.”

“Mmf.” Derek wraps himself around him, arms and legs and all. His voice is muffled when he speaks again, but Will knows the words anywhere. “You and me.”

Will nods. “You and me.”

It’s a mantra and a promise. Hell or high water. Good days and gray ones.

“I’ve got you,” he tells him, and he’ll never let go.

[imaramennoodle]

Hey guys! Here’s part 1 for the kotlc the 100 au.

Tags (lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist): @vibing-in-the-void @everyonehasthoughts @clearlysokeefe @never-ever-too-many-fandoms

Part 1:

Sophie Foster sat bolt upright as the door to her cell clicked and slid open. Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of her mom standing behind two guards.

Sophie’s mom, Edaline Foster, was the head doctor of the Ark. She was also part of the council. And when the council was involved, things hardly ever ended well.

A gaurd marched in and slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Sophie’s wrist. She gasped.

“No! I’m not eighteen yet! I still have another year!” She struggled to escape. It was no use. Sophie was going to die. They were probably skipping the retrial and getting rid of all the criminals now, to save air. Sophie knew that they were running out. That had been why her dad was killed, because he had tried to tell people what was happening.

On the Ark, anyone who committed a crime, even the smallest one possible, like getting into a fight, was sentenced to death. If they were under the age of 18, they would be in prison until their eighteenth birthday, when there was a retrial to see if the criminal was guilty enough to be sentenced to death.

Sophie was marched outside of her cell. She twisted against the handcuffs and the guards holding her arms back.

She felt a needle go into her neck and started to feel dizzy. The last thing she saw was her mom whispering words that she couldn’t quite make out.

-

Sophie’s eyes snapped open. It was dark.

As her eyes adjusted, she realized that she was strapped into a chair, next to a girl with long, shiny black hair. Around them, there were others, all also sitting in chairs, confused.

A voice spoke over some kind of loudspeaker. It was Chancellor Endal. “I am sure that you are all confused about what is happening. My answer is this: All one hundred of you are being sent to the ground,”

There were surprised gasps and a few people started yelling about how they would die the moment they reached the surface.

“... on Mt. Weather,” the chancellor continued, “You will find enough supplies to last you three months. Good luck, and may we meet again.”

There was a click, and everyone was silent. Then, there was the sound of something powering on, and their tiny ship shot off of the Ark.

A boy with strawberry blonde hair had unbuckled himself from the harness and was now floating around the ship.

“What are you doing!” Sophie yelled, “That’s dangerous!”

The boy grinned.

“Hey, aren’t you the one that wasted a month’s supply of oxygen on an illegal spacewalk?” Sophie said.

He held up a thumbs up. “That’s me! Glad to know that I’m known everywhere.”

Suddenly, the ship went almost completely dark, the only light coming from a few emergency lights scattered around the ship.

Then, they crashed.

Sophie stood up and searched for the boy who had been floating around. If he was hurt, she was the closest thing that they had to a doctor. Sophie had been training to be one before she was arrested for knowing that the Ark was running out of air.

The boy had stood up and was now brushing off his shirt.

“You shouldn’t have done that. You could have died.”

He shrugged. “So what? When they sent us down here they basically sentenced us to death.”

A boy yelled something from near the huge door. Everyone’s heads turned to look at him.

A soft voice broke the silence. “Tam?” The girl who had been sitting next to Sophie elbowed her way towards the boy.

The boy’s face lit up and he pulled her into a hug. Sophie vaguely registered them as looking really similar to each other.

“You’re the Songs!” said someone from somewhere behind Sophie, “I’ve heard about you!”

“Yeah,” said the girl, who didn’t look very happy about it.

“Do you wanna be known for something else?” asked the boy.

“Like what?”

“Being the first girl on the ground in a hundred years.”

With that, the boy pressed the red button to open the door. It lowered down, and the girl uncertainly stepped onto it, and then onto the ground.

She stood in the sunlight for a few seconds before yelling, “We’re back!” at the top of her lungs.

Everyone took this as a sign to run out of the ship at once.

Sophie was the last one to leave. She picked up a map on her way out and made her way towards a ridge, where she held the map up and looked between it and the other mountains.

“Why so serious?” asked a boy with messy blond hair and a wrinkled shirt who had snuck up on Sophie.

“That’s Mt. Weather,” Sophie pointed to a mountain on the map, and then to the actual one, “They dropped us on the wrong mountain.”

-

Sophie was not happy to see Wylie. She hadn’t even expected to see him. He was the chancellor’s son, so he must have done something pretty serious to get sent to the ground.

Sophie was busy helping a girl bandage her broken arm when she first saw Wylie. He tried to apologize to her, but she just ignored him and walked away. After all, Wylie was the reason that her dad was dead and that she had been in prison for the past year.

She finished bandaging the girl’s arm. “You should be fine for a couple of days,” Sophie said. The girl smiled and walked away, leaving Sophie alone.

Fitz, a boy who Sophie had seen a couple of times in her Earth Skills class, wandered over to her. “You know where Mt. Weather is, right?”

Sophie nodded. “Yup. It’s just over there.” She tried to point towards it, but it was blocked by a group of trees.

“Great. Can you come with us to get some supplies from there?”

“Sure?”

Fitz led her to a small group that consisted of Dex, the boy who had floated around the ship, Keefe, who seemed to be Fitz’s best friend, and Linh, the girl with a brother.

Sophie unfolded the map and looked at it. “I think we have to go that way.” She pointed towards the forest, and the group set off for Mt. Weather.

They had been walking for thirty minutes before they got to the river. It looked perfectly normal, except there was no way to cross it.

Keefe pointed to a sign across the river that read ‘Mount Weather’ in large letters. “Look!”

Everyone turned to look at what he was pointing at.

“How are we supposed to get over?” asked Fitz.

“That’s easy,” Linh said, “We swim.”

She took off her shoes and socks and started to get in.

“Linh, no. You can’t even swim, and if you could, we have no idea if the water’s even safe. You could get radiation poisoning,” Sophie said, grabbing her arm and holding her back.

Linh twisted away. “I read somewhere that it’s human instinct to know how to swim, and besides, it doesn’t look too deep and I can see a couple of fish. I’ll be fine.” She jumped into the water.

“See! It’s perfectly fine. I’m not dead yet.”

Something dark slithered just under the surface of the water, behind Linh.

“Behind you!” yelled Keefe.

Linh didn’t pay attention until it was too late. The thing must have grabbed her leg, because she was yanked under the water and started trying to get away. Sophie’s eyes widened.

Keefe jumped in to try and get the thing away from Linh.

It must have worked, because after a few minutes, the splashing stopped and Keefe started pulling Linh towards the shore.

Fitz reached over and helped him pull her back up.

Linh coughed a couple of times and sat up on her elbows. Sophie sighed in relief. They had only been on the ground for a couple of hours, but four people had already died and Sophie would do pretty much anything to keep the rest of them alive.

Dex was standing a couple yards away. He called everyone else over. “We could probably swing across on this vine,” he said, “It looks pretty sturdy.”

“Who wants to go first?” asked Keefe. Nobody answered, so he shrugged and grabbed onto the vine.

Keefe got a running start, then jumped up onto the vine. When he got the the other side he let go and yelled “I made it!”

Sophie smiled at Keefe just before something came out of the woods behind their small group and hit him just under his ribs. Keefe collapsed

It was a spear. There were other people on the ground. 

-

Edaline Foster was in the area of the Ark where they were monitoring the 100 through metal wristbands that tracked things like blood pressure and heart rate.

A few of the many screens had gone dark, showing that someone was dead. Edaline scanned the remaining screens and let out a breath when she found Sophie.

Grady Ruewen, another member of the council, who also happened to not like Edaline very much, appeared behind her. “You’re needed in medical.”

Edaline nodded with a tight smile and walked back towards her job. Elwin, her assistant, went up to her.

“There’s a girl here who wants to know about the quarantine in the prison. Says she wants to see her boyfriend.”

The council hadn’t told people about the mission to the ground and had instead said that there was a virus outbreak in the prison and that nobody could visit anyone.

A girl with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail was standing in the waiting area. She walked up to Edaline.

“What was there an outbreak of?” the girl asked.

“Strep,” Edaline answered, “and no, there is no way for you to visit your boyfriend. It’s very contagious.”

“Really? Then why did I see a guard that was stationed there walking around just a few minutes ago? What did you actually do with my boyfriend?”

Edaline sighed. “You’re in engineering, right?”

The girl nodded. “Youngest zero-g mechanic in the history of the Ark. I’m Biana, by the way.”

“Good. Come with me.”

Biana rolled her eyes and followed Edaline.

Edaline led Biana towards an unused area of the ship, where the escape pods were kept. They hadn’t been used in a hundred years, but Edaline figured that Biana would be able to help her.

“Why did you bring me here? All that’s here is a couple of rusty old pods.”

“Because you’re going to help me get to the ground.”

Biana just looked at her. “Are you crazy? The ground isn’t supposed to be survivable for another 100 years!”

“I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but your boyfriend’s on the ground, along with 99 other criminals. My daughter, Sophie, is with them.”

Biana stared at Edaline for a minute. “You’re serious. Is Dex ok? Is the ground seriously survivable?”

“I don’t know, but right now, this pod is our only chance of getting down there. Can you fix it?”

“Yeah, but I’ll need a lot of new parts. This thing is ancient.”

“I can get the parts. Just worry about getting it to work.”

-

Sophie and Dex were the first to make it back to the clearing where the drop ship had landed. They were followed by Fitz and Linh.

Tam ran up to them. “What happened out there? Where’s Keefe?”

“We were attacked,” Dex said.

A few other people, including Wylie, had wandered over.

“By what?” Fitz asked

“Not by what, by who. Everything we thought we knew about the ground was wrong,” Sophie said.

“What do you mean, everything we know is wrong?” Tam asked.

“There are others out there. People. They threw a spear at Keefe and we don’t know if he’s alive or dead.”

“But we’re still gonna look for him, right?” asked Fitz.

Sophie nodded. “We’ll go tomorrow. Right now, we need to focus on finding food and setting up tents.”

-

Edaline was standing over Chancellor Endal, trying desperately to save his life.

One of the guards had found him laying in a hallway after being shot in the chest, and her and Elwin had been doing surgery on him for the past thirty minutes.

“He needs more blood,” Edaline said.

“We’ve already used more than we’re supposed to-“

“I don’t care!” Edaline said, cutting off Elwin, “We just need to make sure he lives long enough to see his son again.”

Elwin sighed. “Whatever you say.”

After they had finished, Edaline was sitting in the waiting area.

“How is he?” Grady, who was sitting a few feet away, asked.

“I don’t know. I hope he’ll be fine. I don’t want to deal with you as chancellor for any longer than I need to.”

Grady raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He was the acting chancellor, in case Chancellor Endal died or wasn’t able to be chancellor before the next election.

“We think we’ve found the person who shot him,” Grady said after a few minutes.

“Who?”

“Tam Song,” Grady said, holding out a tablet with a picture of a boy on it, “His sister, Linh Song, was sent the the ground along with the rest of the hundred, and he’s been reported missing from his job as a janitor.”

“So what, you think he shot the chancellor, snuck onto the drop ship, and went to Earth with them?”

Grady nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what we think.”

“You really think that a seventeen year old kid could have pulled that off?”

“Yes.”

Edaline stood up and left the waiting room. 

Biana was tinkering with the control panel of the pod when Edaline walked in. “Finally! I need a few new parts.”

She stopped talking when she saw Edaline’s face. “What happened?”

“Nothing. We just need to get this to work as fast as possible. What parts do you need?”

[writingformadderton]

The Book of You & I (pt. 6)

Ship: Madderton

Word Count: 3,186

Summary: Taron has a rough time and Richard decides to check up on him, knowing how lonely Taron could get. Seeing him so vulnerable and having him close brings up old feelings. And even Taron starts questioning himself why he needs Richard around him so badly. When Taron asks him to practice kissing for set, Richard just can’t say no.

Additional Tags: fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, first kiss

Dedicated to @taron-eggmcmuffin❤️ 

Part 5

When Richard comes on set this day, he hopes to see Taron. He hasn’t heard from him since they gave interviews and he brought him home two weeks ago. It wasn’t unusual that Taron hadn’t text him because he wasn’t using his phone often anymore. But he hasn’t seen him nor has anyone else on set as well. The rest didn’t seem to find it so unusual, so it must have happened before.

The first person he sees is Elton, who is talking to the chief designer of the film. Elton waves him over, seeing that something was on his mind and ends his conversation. “Richard, mate. What’s going on? You look a bit worried.”

Rich leans down to wrap him into a hug before sitting down next to him. “I am actually. Taron hasn’t called or text me in two weeks. No one has heard from him but everyone acts like it’s normal. I don’t know if I’m worried because I knew him differently and know that something is wrong when he behaves like this.”

Elton nods at his words before speaking again. “You’re right about him not feeling well. Since the accident, Taron slips into a depressed state from time to time and it always takes a while before he comes back to his normal, happy persona.”

“He mentioned something like that to me before. But it sounded more like a joke.” Rich says slowly.

“You know Taron best. He doesn’t whine around. I talked to him over the phone a couple days ago and he sounded tired. Maybe you should check on him? Even if it’s just a short visit. He’ll see you’re there for him.” the older man suggests and looks up as Dexter and his husband David come back.

“Yeah, I will do that. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea but now that you’re suggesting it.” Richard says nodding and lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

“No problem, Rich.” he assures him and pats his back.

************************************

After some draining work on set, Richard goes home for a shower first. It was a warm day and he was trapped in the fitting room trying on different suits and wigs to see if the preferred hairstyle fits together. His natural hair was a complete mess now.

Afterwards, he drives straight to Taron’s place and walks to his door slowly. Was this really a good idea? Maybe all the stuff in the media about the two of them was the reason for it. He hesitates for a moment before pressing the doorbell. If Taron didn’t need him, he would just go home and wait.

It takes a little while until Taron opens the door, wearing sweatpants and Richard’s dark blue sweater. His eyes are red and puffy. His lower lip is full of tiny bites, which happened whenever he cried. His hair is a fluffy mess and he looks pale and incredibly tired. “You look like you need a hug.” he says and Taron smiles weakly at his comment.

T lets him come inside and closes the door. He looks at Richard for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to do now. “I-I’m sorry that I didn’t let you know anything. I’m just having a bit of a rough time at the moment and-.” his voice cracks and his eyes fill with tears again. “And I don’t wanna get on anyone’s nerves with it.”

“You’re not getting on anybody’s nerves. Taron, you have the right to feel shitty and no one expects you to pretend everything is okay.” Richard assures him.

“It’s been nearly six months now.” Taron presses out. “Six months, Rich. I should be over it by now.”

“And? You think I’m not thinking about it? I’m still scared every time we sit in a car together.” he says and takes a step closer to T. “Come on, don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

“I’m just scared.” he presses out and his lips are trembling while tears start falling down his cheeks.

“Come here.” Rich says softly and Taron falls into his arms, like he was waiting for him to say this. His body shakes as he starts crying into his shoulder, uncontrolled sobs leaving his mouth. “Let it all out.” he encourages him and rubs tiny circles on his lower back with one hand. They stay like that for a while, holding each other close. Taron calms down in his arms the longer he holds him and Rich is glad that he still knows how to calm him down quickly.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Taron mumbles into his shirt and sniffs a bit. “I felt so lost the last few days. I wanted to call you, but I felt stupid and insecure about it.”

“I’m here now. You’re safe with me, bubs.” Rich assures him and starts playing with his hair a bit, fondling over the back of his head. “And you can call me whenever you want to. You don’t need a proper reason for it, okay?”

Taron nods and cuddles into him. He takes in the scent of Richard’s cologne and feels safe. Seeing Richard was what made him breakdown, but also calmed him down. He wasn’t alone and Rich was here for him, which wasn’t self-evident after everything they went through. T lifts his head and looks up to Richard. “Thank you.”

Rich looks down at him, caught up in his thoughts, and cups his face, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. Taron looked so soft and helpless right now it drives him crazy. He catches himself looking down at his lips and quickly looks back into his eyes.

Taron has seen his eyes hanging on his lips for a moment and looks deep into Richard’s eyes. The adoration and love in his ocean blue eyes overwhelm him a little. “Richie…I -.” he whispers and stares down at his full lips. For just a moment. Richard must be a great kisser. It was like he was trapped in his scent, his gentle touch on his cheeks and these damn blue eyes. For the first time, he felt his stomach flipping hard from looking at him and somehow, he wishes to have him around all the time.

“We shouldn’t -.” Richard just says and looks down at him, his eyes brimmed with tears.

Taron lifts his hand and strokes his cheek softly, catching a tear with his thumb. “I know.” he says low voiced. “And we won’t.”

Rich looks at him, softness in his features. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to force anything between us, okay?” his voice is trembling now. “It doesn’t have to be this way again if it doesn’t feel right for you.”

Taron nods slowly. “That’s something I’m scared of. What if I never feel that way again and I lose you because of it? It would be your right to stop talking to me, because it wouldn’t be easy for you as well.” he states and looks up to him with fear in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be mad at you or never talk to you again. It would be the way it is.” Richard says and shrugs his shoulders.

“Be honest, could you ever love me this way?” Taron asks timidly and his hand wanders onto Richard’s neck, rubbing soft circles on his chin with his thumb.

“I do.” he admits slowly. He wouldn’t have to fall in love. He already is. Taron made him fall in love all over again and it became harder to hide it as the days went on.

“Why? I’m a fucking mess, Rich.” T says and bites his lower lip nervously.

“I became a mess myself, T.” Rich sighs and fondles his cheeks with his thumbs. “God, you have no clue how amazing you are, huh?” he breathes out and his eyes wander all over his face. As if to memorize his features.

“Probably.” Taron answers with a soft chuckle. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Focus on yourself for once, will you?” Rich says and laughs softly. “Now take a shower and I’ll take you out in the sun. You need some fresh air.”

“Only if we get some coffee.” Taron says and smirks at him.

“Coffee it is then.” Richard giggles and lets go of him. He watches Taron grab some stuff in his bedroom and closing the bathroom door. “Holy fuck, Richard! Get yourself together, for fucks sake!” he curses himself softly as he buries his face in both hands for a moment. You’re falling too fast! Don’t scare him off!

*************************************

Taron sits down on a chair in the little café and watches Richard take off his sunglasses and lean back in his chair across from him. He thinks back to the moment they had in his entry hall and a little smile settles on his face. Taron would have never thought it was Richard he needed to calm down. He didn’t think he really needed him so badly. “Have you been on set today?”

“Yeah. I had to try on different suits and stuff to see what could be fitting. Elton’s reactions were quite amusing.” Richard giggles at the thought.

“When Bernie heard you would play John, he said something quite amusing as well.” Taron grins at that thought. “He saw a few pictures of you with the dark hair and in a suit and looked at Dex, then at me and then at Elton. And he was like: ‘All I can say is, John Reid should be happy that someone as good-looking as Richard Madden got to play him’.” He starts giggling as Rich chokes on his coffee surprised.

“What?!” he laughs out loud and looks at Taron shocked.

“I’m not kidding!” he giggles and takes a swallow of his coffee. “So what exactly will be my next scene?”

Richard remains silent for a moment before talking again. “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart. And the following scene with me.”

“Oh.” he says slowly and Rich nods. “You mean the kissing heavily in a closet scene?”

“You could call it that, yeah.” he laughs softly and feels himself getting nervous. It would be a bit difficult after today, but he would give his best to hold himself back during the scene. He and Dexter talked about the kiss together with Elton earlier in the day, but they thought it would be a good enough time to do it. They shot Tiny Dancer between their talks and the interviews and got a pretty good take after the second try. Even though both of them started laughing as soon as Richard finished his speech. All of them agreed that the Take Me To The Pilot scene should be the last one.

“I’m nervous about that one.” he admits and scratches his neck. “I’m not sure if I still know how to kiss properly.” He starts laughing after realizing how stupid it sounds. “This sounds so fucking dumb, oh my god!” he cringes and shakes his head at himself.

“The more nervous you get, the more awkward it’ll be.” Rich says and plays with the cup in his hands. “Every kissing scene is weird, even when you’re a couple. It’s weird to make out in front of a camera.” he states and tries to calm him down.

“Probably.” Taron says slowly and looks down at his hands. Oh boy.

********************************

The next day, Richard is at home and relaxing on the sofa with his script. His phone rings and after picking it up, he sees it’s a message from Taron. When he opens it, he reads it over and over again, making sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. He puts his phone aside. Was this a good idea? He picks up his phone again and plays with his lower lip, deep in thoughts.

Hey, Rich. This may sound weird but I wanted to ask you if we could maybe practice the whole kissing thing? You don’t know how often I deleted this message to type it again. If you don’t want to or you think it isn’t a good idea, just tell me. It’s okay… - Taron

We can. I think it’ll be okay. – Richard

Rich stares up at the ceiling and lets out a groan. It wasn’t the best idea to do this but they would have to share passionate kisses tomorrow in front of the camera. He couldn’t just walk in there, shove Taron against the shelves of a closet and kiss him passionately without going through it before. And he knows Taron would be struggling on where to put his hands and sorts. It would look awful if they didn’t practice.

Wanna come over? – Taron

I’ll be there. – Richard

Taron throws his phone aside as soon as Richard answered his question. “Oh my god you fucking weirdo!” he cringes and shakes himself. He rushes into the bathroom and brushes his teeth again, changes into a nice shirt and fixes his hair a bit. He considers taking off his glasses but decides he is too lazy to put in some contact lenses. Fuck, we’re really about to do this.

******************************

When Taron opens the door, Richard swallows hard. He has always been a sucker for him in glasses, with those beautiful sparkling soft eyes behind them. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Taron lets him in and scratches his neck, his cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry if it seems weird or-.”

“Taron, it’s okay. We shouldn’t walk into the scene tomorrow completely unprepared.” Richard assures him and takes off his jacket. They sit down in the living room and Richard takes out the script to match it with what they already discussed on set. “We actually talked about it yesterday on set. The way they want to approach the scene.”

“Okay.” T says and looks at him questioningly.

Richard gets up and walks over to a closet full of random stuff and opens it. “I’ll open the door and stand here, telling you to come over.” He looks at him and nods his head towards the closet. “I think you have a line while you’re coming over.” T nods and gets up slowly, walking over to him. “As soon as you’re in, I’ll kick the door closed. Don’t worry it won’t be dark inside.” he says and kicks the door closed again.

“They wouldn’t be able to film us if it was.” T giggles softly and looks at Richard, who catches him smirking when he realizes his mistake. “And then?”

“Then I kiss you while I push you towards the wall.” He says and walks towards him while Taron takes a few steps backwards. “As soon as you hit the wall, I’ll turn off the bright lamp. There will be a few seconds of us kissing. More rough and passionate this time.” Taron nods and now they’re standing close in front of each other. “And then we’ll say our lines and it’s done.”

“Okay, doesn’t sound that complicated.” T says and looks up to him. Maybe for a bit too long.

“It’s all about the way you look and the rest will happen in the moment.” Richard explains and creates some distance between them again. “Elton is completely in love with John at that point and he missed him. Elton longs him, wants to feel his lips and have him as close as he can.” He thinks for a moment and decides to make it easier for Taron to imagine things by talking about themselves, not Elton and John. “Let your eyes wander, stop at my lips for a bit. Try to make me see how much you want it.” Rich says and Taron nods slowly, playing with his hands nervously. “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me.” he assures him with a soft smile. “I’ve already been your first real kiss once.”

“My first real kiss?” Taron asks curiously.

“You had one when you were younger but you hated it, so you decided ours is your first.” Richard tells him and smirks a bit.

“Got it.” he says and falls onto the sofa heavily. Taron looks up to Richard and bites his lower lip. He and Richard became close the last few months they were together, especially yesterday. He is unsure about everything, his own feelings and the scene tomorrow. Rich was patient with him and gentle, which only made Taron long his near even more on his unstable days. “Can I kiss you?” he asks timidly and his cheeks flush in embarrassment. Jesus, think before you speak!

Richard stops in his movements and looks at him a bit startled for a moment. He sits down next to him and looks at Taron. The Welsh couldn’t even look in his eyes. Rich thinks it through and he knows there will be no way around it. If not today then tomorrow on set. And so he lifts Taron’s chin with his fingers softly and turns his face towards him. He looks into his blueish green eyes, which watch him with a mixture of interest, fear and longing. “Relax.” he whispers as he comes closer and T nods, his eyes wandering all over his face.

Taron feels his hands starting to get sweaty when Richard is only mere inches away. His heart races when Richard’s lips brush over his ever so softly. T freezes for a moment when Richard connects their lips fully. His lips feel way softer than they look and the kiss is sweet and hesitant, giving him time to process everything. Richard pulls back and opens his ocean blue eyes and Taron feels his throat getting tight, drowning in them. He leans forward, searching Richard’s eyes, and connects their lips as soon as Richard closes his eyes again. T lifts his hand and cups his face hesitating while getting completely lost in the feeling.

When he opens his eyes again and pulls back, Taron looks at him with clouded eyes. “Okay?” he asks just above a whisper and tries to blend out his racing heart.

“Okay.” Taron says and looks at him, remaining silent for a moment. He takes Richard’s hand into his and presses it onto his chest. “Is this shit normal?”

Rich guides his hand onto his chest, letting him feel his racing heart. “In this situation, yes.”

“If that’s what my first real kiss felt like, I’m pretty sure why nothing could top that.” He says and Rich just smirks a bit. “So, how exactly do I kiss you roughly while walking?” he asks and raises his eyebrows at him.

The Scottish pulls him up, grabs his shirt and raises his eyebrows at him. “You let it happen.”

And with that, Taron cups his face and everything else fades away as Richard’s full lips smash onto his and drive him to the edge of going crazy. “Oh fuck.” he mumbles into the kiss and pulls him close. Was this the normal way to fall for someone? Fuck it. We’ll go with it.

@multicoloredchicken @primaba11erina @sarahegerton96 @maddertonmyheart @madderton-obsessed @fuseburner

[stars-and-splendor]

Too Late

I did this is like an hour a few months ago and I realize I should probably post it instead of letting it sit gathering dust but anyway--

Trigger warnings: death, blood, and it get’s descriptive too

Summary kind of?: um, this is a dexiana request I got a while ago and being me, I had no clue what to do so I killed someone off

Word Count: 1.4 thousand 

Dex gazed at the beautiful mountains surrounding Rimeshire. Just beyond them was the sea, where kelpies often came. Every few months, their haunting songs would float in the air, ethereal and beautiful.

Kesler often dragged Dex out here, in the evenings where the Technopath was working on a new project nonstop. His dad would insist on going outside and they'd lay under the sky as he pointed out constellations, a human thing that both Dex and his dad loved.

Right now the night stars were twinkling, brighter than he had ever seen them be. If only this had been any other day.

This was the place where he and Biana had started dating. They'd made it official in this very spot. That day, Dex recalled, was a blur of laughs and kisses and an indescribable emotion that Dex could still feel.

This was the place it had begun.

But today, it would end.

▪▪▪

"You're not her." The voice was sweet and high like it belonged to a cliche pretty princess or a kindly old grandmother. But it was laced with poison, as deadly as the person it belonged to.

Dex forced himself to look up at Vespera. "I came instead. You're going to kill one of us anyway." It was either him or Biana. He couldn't let her go through it again. So he'd hid the note meant for her. She would hate him for it, but it was worth it.

"Oh, so we're doing that heroic sacrifice thing again? The brave prince rescuing the damsel in distress?"

Dex choked out a laugh, dark and humorless and so unlike the easy grins he normally gave to his siblings and Sophie and... Biana. "We both know that if anything, the roles would be switched," he said, his voice sharp.

"Yes, I suppose we do. The girl's quite strong, and feisty. I must give her credit for that," Vespera mused, rasing her head so her veil fell away and the moonlight illuminated her face. Her skin was pale, a sharp contrast to the dark makeup she wore.

Dex clenched his fists as white-hot anger, almost like bubbling lava, rose within him as he heard her speak. He allowed himself to curse under his breath. Sophie would probably look at him like he'd grown two heads if she was there. He never swore.

But Sophie wasn't here. No one was.

Plus, he was about to die, who cared?

"Get on with it already." The words were venom, spat out and dark.

Vespera sighed, looking bored. "Fine. Let's hope your little sacrifice was worth it." She reached into a pocket he didn't even know was there, and brought something out. Dex was hit with a new wave of terror as he realized something.

Dex wasn't ready.

He'd told himself he was. But when Vespera suddenly unveiled a deadly sharp throwing star, and her lips curled into a sinister smile, Dex realized that he was wrong. He wasn't ready.

He wasn't ready to die.

He wanted life, to be able to laugh with his friends and feel thrills of happiness when he made someone smile. He wanted to be able to have adventures, and make discoveries. He wanted to live out his long life, be happy.

But life rarely gives you what you want.

He had no choice. He wasn't going to be responsible for her death. If he couldn't live, he wanted Biana to.

So as Vespera sent the throwing star whizzing towards him, its blade flashing silver in the moonlight, he closed his eyes and waited for the pain.

▪▪▪

His scream pierced through the silence of the night.

Thankfully, he was far enough from the house that his family wouldn't be awoken from their sleep. And if they did, it would take far too long for them to arrive. When they saw this awful sight, it would be too late.

Dex couldn't believe the pain, worse than anything he'd ever felt before. It wasn't just the physical wound, it was the fact that this was truly the end. He'd done it and soon, it would be over.

Dex fell over, his arm clutching his side, as crimson bloomed on his shirt. Bright red blood was quickly gathering, dripping onto the floor, and sinking into the rich soil.

He gasped, red overtaking his vision, blinding him. A new stab of pain came, as shiny metal sliced into his arm.

He realized something, something he probably should have guessed already.

Vespera wasn't going to end this quick. She wanted him to suffer. She wanted him to truly feel the pain. She was going to let him slowly bleed to death, and would probably enjoy every moment of it.

Dex tried to breathe, gasping for air. A new wave of pain overtook him each time he took a quick gasp of breath.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

Blood was pooling on the ground, a deep shade of red. So. Much. Red.

Vespera stood over him and smiled, her pale face chilling him to the bone. Without a word, she lifted her leaping crystal and Dex realized she was going to light leap away.

No.

He gritted his teeth, trying to not scream out loud in agony, as he grabbed a throwing star that he'd taken with him, hoping to maybe take Vespera out and miraculously live.

He wasn't going to live now, but maybe he could accomplish part of his goal.

As Vespera faded away in a whirl of light and sparkles, Dex feebly managed to throw the throwing star. It nicked Vespera a little, not too deep, but the damage was done. Her concentration was ruined, and she would arrive at her destination faded and almost dead.

Dex wanted to feel triumphant, but instead, he wanted to sob.

Dex cried out in pain as another stab of agony pierced his side. Blood was flowing out of his wounds, faster than ever.

He was dying.

Making up his mind, he grasped for his Imparter. He had a few minutes left, and he was going to make them worth it. Wiping away the bright red stains from its shiny surface, only succeeding in smudging it more, he hailed Biana.

Cheery music came from the Imparter, as it waited for Biana to pick up. Dex wanted to laugh at the irony of hearing a happy song in the situation, but he could barely breathe, much less laugh.

After almost a minute, a lot of time considering Dex would die in the next few minutes, if not seconds, Biana picked up. She looked at Dex, his shirt covered in blood, his face smudged with blood, hair sprinkled with drops of blood, just blood everywhere.

Dex had never liked blood.

"Dex?!" Her teal eyes grew wide as she took in his experience. The clip she was holding clattered to the floor. Panic flashed in her wide teal eyes and she blicked, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.

"Biana..." he gasped out. He tried to think of what to say but he couldn't. Couldn't think. It was a blur again, confusion and fear and pain. "I need to tell you something... I love you." He had to say that at least.

She gave a small gasp and stood up. "Dex, you know I love you. But... what's happening? You're covered in blood an--"

He interrupted her, struggling to talk. "Tell... tell my family I love them... Even the triplets." He allowed himself to smile inwardly, remembering his rambunctious siblings and amazing parents. He was lucky to have a family like that. A new wave of pain overtook him and he almost threw up feeling the sticky blood on him.

Biana's eyes were wide open, her breathing fast as she ran, messy, chocolate-colored hair bouncing against her shoulders in a desperate attempt to get to him. But they both knew it was too late.

"Tell our friends, Fitz, Sophie, Marella, Tam, Linh, Wylie, all of them." He started to wheeze but continued talking, determined to say this through the agony. "I love them too... and... they're all the best friends I could ask for. And... tell Sophie she's still...still my best friend. No matter what." He coughed a little, blood coming out of his mouth, making him want to throw up again.

Biana nodded, silent tears streaking down her deathly pale face as she realized this was the end. Her eyes glimmered with sadness, but she looked straight into Dex's already closing eyes. The light was fading out of them quickly, but they were still the familiar periwinkle shade she knew.

"And remember, I love you... So please, remember me, but move on." He wasn't sure if that was good advice, but he could barely breathe now. He felt himself fading away, and the stabbing pain lessened. He closed his eyes and whispered his last words.

"I love you."

A second after his eyes closed for the last time, Biana whispered back, "I love you."

But it was too late.

[likeshipsonthesea]

heat of her breath in my mouth; im alive" for nurseydex?

heyyy remember months ago when i asked y’all to send in hozier lyrics as prompts and y’all fucking Delivered and i sat on my ass and did nothing??? (well,, two As and a citation in my classes but who gives a shit about that)

HERE IT IS. well. one of them. here one of them is. it’s weird and wishy washy and most reminiscent of my writing style from Forever Stained (remember that?) and nursey is mildly ooc and dex is Emotional and if you don’t know my oc luke it may be confusing for a bit but anyway it’s FUN and i hope y’all enjoy it

will be tackling the other prompts soon!! hopefully!! :]

warning for parental homophobia and older-person-young-person relationship (a 14 year old and a 17 year old, only in flashback)

The first night Dex is in New York, he dreams.

He dreams himself a house. A loud, angry house. The walls shiver, the floors ache. He drags his rough palm against peeling wallpaper until his fingers catch on the latch of a back door.

The night air is cold. It hurts, but tastes like water, and he chokes it down until his lungs close up. When he finishes swallowing, he is on a beach. The house is far away, a distant thrum in the back of his head. To his left is an outcropping of mossy rocks. To his right are the glassy waves of low tide. Behind him, he can feel, is a roaring fire.

If he turns around, he will find a ring of drunken teenagers cupping sixty cent beer like salvation. He will fade into their circle with little fuss and spend the night with sand in his jeans pockets wondering if he will ever be allowed to leave this place.

If he turns right, he will be chilled and damp and alone.

He turns left.

The rocks create a familiar path. The bottoms of the stones are encrusted with salt from high tide washing in and moss grows along their sides and tops, soft with stolen sunshine. The moss is smoother than the wallpaper and soothes his rough hands. Sand steals into his sneakers, irritating, but he continues to walk. He knows what is waiting for him at the end.

The house is all but silent, now. The bonfire’s warmth has evaporated, leaving the late autumn chill on Dex’s fingertips, his nose. He cannot hear his drunken peers and, more than that, he does not think of them. He tastes sixty cent beer and salvation and he has more important things to worry about.

After walking for hours, he turns the final corner, and there is a boy.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the boy says.

“Sorry,” Dex says. He dreams he is small. “I tried to be quick but—”

The boy shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter now.” The boy grab Dex’s wrist. His fingers are cold. He pulls Dex close. Dex comes to his chin, stares up at him with a broken back neck.

Moments before their lips meet, Dex realizes what’s wrong.

“You’re not Luke,” he says.

Nursey doesn’t stop to respond. His mouth, on Dex’s, is cold.

Dex wakes up, shivering in June, in an unfamiliar bed. He wants to go home. He wants to call Nursey. He turns over, instead, and tries to fall back asleep.

*~*~*

“Is the apartment nice?” Ma asks, when she calls the next morning.

Dex bends to grab a water bottle from his fridge. “It’s clean,” he says, pressing the bottle against his red, sweating neck. “It’s in a good location.”

“It was so nice of them to set you up with a place,” Ma says.

Dex nods, taking a breath. “Yeah, I got lucky.”

“It wasn’t luck,” Ma says. “You worked hard.”

Dex breathes.

“You’re breathing funny,” she says. Hesitant, “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head at nothing. “Yeah, I’m fine, Ma. You just caught me right as I finished my run.”

“Oh. You must’ve been up early.” Dex doesn’t know what to say to that, and doesn’t really want to explain that he woke up in the middle of the night after dreaming a memory all twisted and couldn’t force himself back to sleep, so he doesn’t say anything. After a moment, Ma asks, “Is there a nice running route nearby?”

“There’s a park close enough to go through.” He takes a quick sip of his water. “It’s nothing like home, though.”

“Well.” Ma fiddles with something—a pen or a piece of scrap paper in front of her. “It’s a good opportunity.”

“I know, Ma. I’m—I’m glad to be here.” 

“Good.” She lets out an audible breath. 

Dex can picture her, curled small against the phone, fiddling with a pen. She’s probably sitting in the kitchen, at the end of the table they squished in there. They use it as a kids’ table during family gatherings, but it’s otherwise just a junk surface for every odd end they bring into the house. Every few months Ma will get stressed at work, or worried about money, or someone in the family will get sick, and she’ll decide that it’s time to go through all the junk and keep the table clean for once, God damn it. Now, it’s probably half organized, half mess. She’d only started a week ago, when Dex got home from Samwell to pack for New York.

“Good,” Ma says again. “This really is a good opportunity. The company is great, right? And it will give you experience.” Dex hums, sipping his water. “And—and you won’t be alone, right? You have that—that friend of yours, Nurse something?”

Dex stops drinking. The water bottle sweats in his hand, one chilled droplet sliding down his skin. “Yeah,” Dex says, “he lives nearby.”

“Good.” Ma taps some more, with the pen. “Good.”

Dex puts down the water bottle and wipes his hand off on his gym shorts. “How’s cleaning going, Ma?”

“Oh. You know, it’s getting there.”

“This time’s the charm, I’m sure. As long as Dad remembers to keep it clean.”

“Yes, yes. He has to get better about that.” Dex breathes. Tries to think up another thing to say that won’t lead anywhere that makes Ma tap. He can’t think of anything. Ma says, “We all have to get better about things, though.”

Dex tangles his fingers in the fabric of his shorts. “I—I’ve got to go shower, Ma, but I’ll call you, okay?”

“Oh—okay.” She hesitates, and Dex thinks about just hanging up. “We love you.”

“I love you, too.” Dex picks up the cap from his water bottle. Ma doesn’t say anything more. “Okay, bye, Ma.” He hangs up, cutting her off in the middle of a second-too-late goodbye. He debates calling back to apologize.

He ends up leaving his phone on the counter, chugging the rest of his water, and stripping on the way to his shower. Whatever heat the run in the summer city air had given him has since disappeared, leaving his skin chilled, shivering.

*~*~*

The dreams don’t stop.

The next one is in a bathroom. Dex doesn’t remember the tile or the shower curtain with little blue whales on it, but he knows somehow that it’s Luke’s childhood bathroom. Downstairs a graduation party ensues, clean fun music simmering through the floorboards as Dex is nudged back into the wall.

Cold hands push under his shirt, nails catching. Cool breath hits his neck, wet, and he shivers. He is not drunk. He is worrying, about Luke’s parents, about the other guests. People here know him, know his family. This is a bad idea.

“We should go back,” he says, in the dream. He didn’t say it, back when this happened. “This is a bad idea.”

“You never go along with my ideas, Poindoodle.” Nursey laughs into Dex’s chin. “Come on, just try one play. I think we could make the two headed beast work.”

This is wrong, Dex thinks, and opens his eyes to the soft grey ceiling of his New York apartment.

*~*~*

“Good work so far, Will.”

Dex looks up from his screen as his boss raps his knuckles against Dex’s monitor. Dex’s fingers pause on the keyboard and he smiles. “Thank you, sir.”

Dex’s boss shakes his head. “Call me Hugh. I don’t feel old enough to be a sir yet.”

Dex inclines his head. “Thank you, Hugh.”

Hugh smiles, wide, and lifts his coffee mug. “Keep it up,” he says, and heads into his office. The walls of his office are see-through, all made of glass, and Dex’s eyes follow him without thought as he sits down at his desk. The building they work in is nice enough, clean, lots of glass that lets in sunlight. It’s nothing like Dex had been picturing, some dark room where they code for hours on end with no break. Dex likes it. Likes it here. Likes the people. To think such a thing feels almost like a betrayal, like he shouldn’t be enjoying this place of exile, but he can’t help it.

Dex returns his attention to his code. He lets the logic of the work soothe his brain, until thoughts of trading in worn wood for clean glass and disguised disappointment for blatant pride leave the forefront of his mind. He just works, and doesn’t think, and enjoys every moment.

Sometime later, his phone buzzes.

what’s up willy p, ready to hit the town this weekend :PPP

Dex stares at the screen until it goes to black. He turns over his phone and pushes it away, to focus on work, and two minutes later has to restrain himself from looking when it buzzes once again.

*~*~*

Not all of the dreams have Nursey in them.

“Good work so far, Will,” Luke pants into Dex’s neck.

They are in a car—Luke’s probably, it has the fancy leather seats and the driver’s side window isn’t stuck perpetually open. The air tastes like sweat and the windows are fogged, obscuring the beach outside with its black, freezing water.

Luke’s fingers scrape at the base of Dex’s back. “Keep it up,” he says, grin wide against Dex’s shoulder. “Keep it up, keep it up.”

Dex stares at the glassy waves. They loom ever closer, higher and higher tide until they reach the tires of the car. The air tastes more and more like salt until it’s dripping from his tongue. The car has filled with the sea. Luke is cold, like the water, and he keeps saying his lines, “Good work,” until Dex opens his eyes to a grey ceiling, alone.

*~*~*

On Friday afternoon, Dex texts Nursey back.

I’m not up for anything crazy. Still settling in.

Dex grabs his things—wallet, keys, sticky note reminding him to call Ma—and bids goodbye to the few left in the office, Hugh and a nice girl named Kate a few desks over he’s chatted with during their coffee breaks.

Nursey responds by the time Dex reaches the street. no p dude. wanna come over and watch a movie?

Dex falls into step with the endless, faceless mass of people. The city buildings around him cut into the sky, grey, unyielding. He needs something like fresh air.

What movie? he asks.

;) Nursey sends back.

Dex breathes. Okay.

*~*~*

Nursey’s brownstone is tall and clean and, surprisingly, cozy. Dex was picturing something styled out of a magazine, hard edges and white and unwelcoming. Nursey welcomes Dex into a house full of oranges and deep browns and yellows with a big smile. He’s wearing a t-shirt and Samwell branded shorts. He is not wearing socks.

“Dude,” he says, emphatic, and pulls Dex into a hug. “Feels like it’s been years, bro.”

Dex hugs back, automatic. “It’s been three weeks, Nursey. Chill.”

Nursey laughs, chest rumbling against Dex’s. His back shakes, sweaty and warm, under Dex’s hands. “Shut up,” he says, pulling back. “You’re allowed to say you missed me, too.”

Dex scrunches his eyebrows. “Did you say you missed me? I didn’t hear that part.”

Nursey laughs again. With all the colors around him, he looks like sunshine. Dex skitters his eyes away, blistering. Nursey coughs. “We’ll be in the living room tonight,” he says, walking towards one of the open doorways. Dex follows. “I’ve got snacks and shit, and my dad made food and put it in some containers before he left but I don’t know what it is.”

“He’s not here?” Dex asks, looking at the old concert posters on the far wall, next to a long stretch of built in bookcases, all filled to the brim.

“Nah, he left on a business trip on Wednesday. Mom and Mama have been gone since Monday. Date vacation.” Nursey flops onto a leather couch, plush. With limbs thrown about, he embodies coziness. Despite the heat outside, the air conditioner keeps it nice inside, and the idea of climbing onto the couch with him is irritatingly desirable.

“You’re here alone?” Dex asks, taking a seat on the other end of the sectional.

Nursey grins. “Not anymore, now that I have you.” He flutters his eyelashes at Dex. Dex laughs and says, “Shut up,” and doesn’t think about it any more than that.

*~*~*

When Dex gets home that night, after several movies, more than half of them Very Bad, full of popcorn and homemade food and laughter he’d forgotten the taste of, he gets into bed alone with his grey foreign ceiling and does not dream of anything.

*~*~*

“I’m glad work is going well,” Ma says, when Dex calls her in the morning. She’s on speaker phone, he can tell, while she works around the house.

“Me too.” Dex stirs the eggs in his pan. Eating Nursey’s dad’s food reminded him that he could actually use the kitchen in his temporary apartment. After his run, he decided to start easy, with breakfast.

“That girl you mentioned, Kate, she sounds nice.”

“She is.” He scrapes some cooked egg from the bottom of the pan and swirls around the yolks a bit. “She’s been working there for about two years now and she says it’s a nice place.”

“That’s good.” On Ma’s end, there’s some movement, probably throwing something out because there’s a soft swooshing sound, like the trash can makes. “Have you been able to do some fun things around the city yet? Maybe with your new coworkers?”

“Kate invited me out to dinner next weekend.” Dex turns down the heat and continues to scrape.

The movement noises stop. “Oh! How nice of her.”

“The restaurant is supposed to be really good. Her fiancé is the head chef there.” Dex checks on his toast just as they pop and he carefully plucks them from the toaster.

“Oh.”

Dex hums, dropping the toast on his plate and turning to find the eggs done. “I also watched some movies with Nursey last night.” He deposits the eggs next to the toast and then hurries to check the bacon before it gets too crispy.

“Oh. Your aunt and I wanted to see a movie, but nothing was playing that we liked.” Distantly, Dex hears tapping of something, probably as Ma cleans.

Dex pulls out the tray of bacon. “We didn’t go to the theaters, so we could just stream.”

“He came to your apartment?”

Dex uses tongs to transfer the bacon to his plate. “I went to his family’s brownstone.” Satisfied, he gets the pre-poured glass of orange juice out from the fridge.

Ma hums. “Were his parents nice?”

Dex gathers together his plate, utensils, napkin, drink, and phone onto a tray and carries it out to the living room. “They were traveling, but I’ve met them before. They’re nice.”

“Oh.”

Dex settles his things down on the coffee table and sits on the couch, refraining from digging in for a moment to admire his handy work. It isn’t amazing by any means, but since being home, since finals, the playoffs, even before that when the stove was temporarily disengaged, he hasn’t had a chance to make food for himself, really. He almost wants to snap a picture.

“Are you—”

Dex looks away from his plate, to his phone sitting next to it. He picks it up and turns off speaker. “What, Ma?”

“Nothing. Nothing.”

Dex drags his thumb against the case. Either the lack of AC or keeping up the call has made his phone heat up. Against his cheek, it itches. “Everything okay, Ma?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I just—” Dex hears the tapping, louder now that it’s in his ear. “I just want you to remember why you’re there. You’re working. This is for your future.”

The uncomfortable wrinkles appear between his eyebrows. “I know, Ma.”

“Good. I just don’t want you to—”

“To what, Ma?”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. Tapping fills the silence. “I’m glad you’re having a good time so far,” she says, quiet. “I’ll let you go. Have a nice day.”

“You, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Ma hangs up. Dex drops his phone from his ear, hot in his hand now. He breathes for a moment and then picks up the tray. He digs into his eggs and, though they’ve just started to go cold, it tastes good enough.

*~*~*

He dreams he’s trapped under sheets.

Fingers curl in his hair, tight. His scalp hurts, but he keeps going, stops breathing. He’s smothered under blankets, but he’s shivering. Every time he tries to surface, the hands on his head hold him steady.

After long, long minutes, the sheets flood with saltwater and he breaks through the waves and gulps in air. The world is still freezing but he can breathe. He can breathe.

“Be quiet,” Nursey rasps, cold breath against Dex’s ears. “Don’t want to wake anyone up.”

Nursey is swallowed by the sheets and Dex is left floating, freezing, staring at the ceiling of his own childhood bedroom. The open window lets in chilled winter air that flutters the drapes, dark blue that blends in with the water he’s drowning in. Ma could walk in at any moment. Jay could hear them, just a few walls away. What if someone walks in? What would happen then?

When Dex opens his eyes, he’s staring at the grey ceiling again. He can’t breathe, even though the air is air, and not water. He grabs at his chest and tries to press down, like he could manually make his lungs work.

With his free hand he reaches for the nightstand, the light, and floods the room with yellow. He sits up, gasping, and knocks his phone off the table, disconnecting it from the charger. Grabbing for it, because it seems important in the moment, he sees there’s a notification.

y tf are safiya nygaard’s videos so entertaining

it’s fucking 3 in the morning and i’m watching her wear clear plastic jeans for a week

like wtf

Dex realizes that he still can’t breathe, but now because laughter is bubbling in his chest and clogging up his throat. He laughs, hard and long and unbearable, until his whole body aches.

He lies back in his bed, on land, now. He types back a message.

Who let you on YouTube this late at night? You know how easy you fall into holes.

The three dots appear within seconds.

i am but a simple man with no self restraint

The dots appear again, disappear, and reappear.

you would understand if you watched her

Dex grabs for his laptop, sitting by the foot of his bed. He double checks the name and clicks on a random video about a merged Ugg and Teva shoe.

What… I.. what? Teva Uggs?

ur watching!!

I don’t understand

it’s Art dexington appreciate it

Dex doesn’t end up falling back asleep for a while, and getting up for work that morning is hell, but when he lies back down in bed with a buzzing phone and too-bright computer screen, he’s not drowning.

*~*~*

Someone taps Dex’s shoulder and he turns to find Kate smiling pleasantly at him. He takes out one earbud.

“Break time!” she says.

Dex laughs. “Wouldn’t want to be productive for too long.”

“Exactly.”

He turns off the music he was listening to to concentrate—some Spotify playlist Nursey made him to “be more productive” that just tends to make Dex laugh at inopportune moments—and then he joins Kate in the break room as she talks at him about dinner the other night.

“George says to come back whenever you want, he loves when people love his food, it’s a little ridiculous.” She fiddles with the coffee maker as Dex grabs his smoothie from the fridge. He’s taken to making himself smoothies in the morning and bringing them in for his breaks, since he’s never loved coffee all that much.

“I’ve been telling my friend all about it and he’s begging me to take him now, so tell George he can expect me back soon. My friend is pretty pushy.”

“Perfect, then he’ll stop bothering me about it.” Kate reaches out without looking. “Could you pass the cream?”

Dex dutifully hands her the cream.

“You’re coming to the office party next week right?” She fixes her coffee the way she likes it and turns to Dex, sipping. Her eyes are wide and clear that Dex’s answer should and will be yes. It’s a bit like Bitty’s captain look and it curls something sharp and sad in Dex’s chest. Going back to school in August is going to be so very different without him.

“I didn’t know there was a party next week,” Dex says, licking excess smoothie from his upper lip. “What’s it for?”

“Jenny’s birthday. There’s gonna be a cake.”

“How can I say no to cake?”

Kate grins. “You can bring a guest, too. We need fresh meat at these things. Also if you don’t bring a date someone is going to try to set you up with someone and believe me, you do not want to get stuck on a date with Karen’s second cousin Stew. He’s basically the opposite of whatever a hoot is.”

Dex snorts into his smoothie. “Noted.”

Dex’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out without thinking twice. He doesn’t check it while he’s working and there are a few messages.

buzzfeed unsolved is THE SHIT

shane and ryan r defo u and me but i can’t tell who’s who. you believe in ghosts right??

ur homework is to watch every episode tonight and then come sleep in my apartment bc i’m scared af rn

Dex smiles and quickly types out a response.

Sounds like the writing is going well.

“Who’s that?” Kate pushes onto her tiptoes to look over the lip of Dex’s phone screen.

“My friend from school.” Dex keeps his phone out long enough to see Nursey’s response– f off– and then shoves it back in his pocket. “He’s supposed to be writing a short story for the publication he’s working with over the summer and he’s getting a little sidetracked.”

“Ooh, a humanities. How did we meet someone from the Other Side?” Kate grins into her coffee.

“He’s on the hockey team with me.”

Kate hums. “Hockey, I should’ve known.”

“Huh?”

“George and I were betting that you played some kind of sport. I thought basketball because you’re so tall, but he guessed baseball.” She scrunches up her nose. “Basketball’s closer, I think.”

Dex huffs, laughing a little. “What was the prize?”

Kate is staring at nothing, face scrunched up, and then blinks, hearing Dex, apparently. She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, I can’t tell you that, HR would have a fit.” She sips her coffee again and Dex can’t help the volume of the laugh he lets out.

*~*~*

In the next dream, the sun is high and bright and dead in the sky.

“You’re good,” Luke says, walking next to him on the sidewalk. The ground is too hard against Dex’s feet, even through his sneakers. He turns and Luke is Luke, but also Jack. They speak at once. “If you work hard, you could take this somewhere.”

“You really think so?” Dex asks. He is small. Short. He looks up at Jack and his neck aches.

Luke grins, all teeth. “I really do.”

Dex wakes up reaching for his phone. Two texts wait for him, and he breathes as he makes his shaking fingers type out a response.

*~*~*

“I can’t believe you work a block away from my favorite coffee shop and it’s taken you this long to meet me on your lunch break.” Nursey tsks, reaching over to steal a bit of Dex’s muffin.

Dex slaps lightly at his hand, but Nursey still escapes with a sizable crumb. “I’ve been here for less than a month, it isn’t that long.”

“It’s ages,” Nursey insists, fingers still in his mouth as he speaks.

Dex winces to smother his smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nursey retorts, and then sticks out his tongue to further prove it.

Dex huffs, sipping his smoothie to keep himself from doing something stupid, like responding. “How’s writing going?” he asks, when he’s taken his sip.

Nursey hums, swirling a mixing stick through his iced coffee. “Pretty good. I have a working draft done, but it needs some serious editing.”

“That’s good, dude. ‘Swawesome, even.”

Nursey grins around his straw. “’Swawesome,” he repeats. “C would be proud.”

“You talk to him recently?” Dex picks at his muffin.

“Yesterday, actually. Training is going well.”

Dex chews thoughtfully. “S’good. Last time I talked to him he was more worried about Bitty than the NHL.”

“Oh, he definitely still is.” Nursey laughs and makes another dive for Dex’s muffin. Dex deftly moves the plate out of the line of fire.

“It took him two weeks to pick a wall color,” Dex says, pausing to drink his smoothie. “And Jack must be drowning in all the tester bakes.”

“Let’s be real, though, if Bitty Bakes ever does open it’s gonna be the sickest bakery of all time.”

Dex inclines his head, slowly nodding. “Oh, I’ll definitely be spending my entire paycheck on imported pastries.”

“If you run out we can share my trust fund,” Nursey says, batting his eyelashes.

The laughter tastes so pleasant and—more than that—familiar on Dex’s tongue that he doesn’t even do anything as Nursey makes another grab for his muffin.

*~*~*

The worst dreams are ones that aren’t really memories at all.

It’s a beach, but the sand is blue and the ocean is clear and all Dex can see is sunshine, though he can’t feel a thing. Nursey is next to him and their hands are stuck in the sand, twisted together and hiding.

“I love you,” Nursey says, and it’s his voice and his words except not, because Dex knows it’s wrong, know it’s his brain that made it all up, and he starts running, slipping against the sand.

He trips and falls onto his knees and he looks up and it’s Luke and he’s grinning and looming and huge and he speaks, “Quiet, kid, quiet or they’ll hear you,” and for some reason Dex knows they is Nursey and he swallows every breath, worried it will sound like a scream, and when he wakes up he is, screaming, except no sound will come out and he’s just broken with his throat open and empty and—

He presses call without thinking and Nursey answers on the third ring.

“Dex—what—”

“Can you—just—” Dex swallows, tries again. “Just talk. Please.”

“Dex, what’s going—”

“Please.”

“I—uh. Okay.”

And he does. He talks, about the funny conversation he had with his mama today and these cool shoes he saw on Instagram and the pretty clouds he saw yesterday and this fruity drink he wants to try at a bar downtown that he’s going to drag Dex to whether he wants to go or not.

And sometime later, Dex falls asleep. He wakes up with his phone warm and nearly dead against his ear and a text from Nursey asking if everything’s g and Dex doesn’t respond, half because Nursey used g for good and half because he doesn’t know the answer.

*~*~*

His old running route in Maine took him through the woods. Past gnarled roots that curled, mischievous, and tried to trip him up, under a canopy of green that shivered in the early morning wind. He liked to wake up with the sun, at home, liked the quiet moments before the rest of town woke up and started looking at him. So he’d wake and run and take his path until the trees gave way to a dusky beach, accompanied by a barely awake sun.

A lot of the time, the water would still be smeared with the red hues of the fading sunrise, and Dex would stand and pant and stare and think about nothing, or Samwell, or—later on—Nursey.

It was a nice path, back home. Even if it would inevitably bring him back to houses that creaked under his footsteps, full of people that couldn’t look away until he met their gaze.

In New York, he runs against sidewalk. Smooth and uncomplicated, it brings him to a small park, with a few trees and some grass and, occasionally, some pigeons. He takes the path set out for him there and doesn’t have to think about winding roots, but does, anyway. He thinks about how easy it is without them, and how much he misses them, and wonders what that means before the adrenaline in his body pulses in his temples and he stops thinking of much all together.

He returns to his apartment and guzzles down water and makes himself breakfast and sometimes calls Ma and tries not to think about how different his life is here, tries not to categorize the things he misses, and the things he’s glad to be without.

He runs to forget, and it doesn’t always work, but it doesn’t mean he can’t try.

*~*~*

Jenny’s birthday party is, surprisingly, fun. Nursey texts him in the middle of the afternoon apologizing, saying that his meeting is running late and he might not be there in time, but he will be there. Dex, dejected, expects the party to suck, but when they all clock out and the cake is wheeled out on one of the trays they typically use for mail and Kate grabs the AUX cord for the speakers, things actually become interesting.

It’s not quite a kegster—nothing is quite like a kegster—but his coworkers are nice, funny people and the music is lively and the cake, while not Bitty’s, is pretty damn good. Nursey texts him intermittent updates with ridiculous comments and Dex, after Karen is drawn to the dance floor to Cotton Eyed Joe, takes up a spot by the wall with his cake and his phone and snickers down icing to type out a response to do you think they sell candles that smell like the subway.

Then, suddenly, Hugh pops up.

“Will, hi,” he says, holding his own plate of cake. “Thought I’d come over and say hello, now that Karen’s let you go.”

Dex swallows a bite of cake and shoves his phone in his pocket. “Oh, Karen wasn’t holding me hostage or anything. We were talking apple pie recipes.”

“Good to hear she wasn’t trying to get you to meet Stew.” Hugh leans in, secretive and exaggerated. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but he isn’t quite the catch she makes him out to be.”

Dex laughs, because Hugh is his boss and you laugh when your boss makes a joke. “I’ve been warned.”

“Good, good.” Hugh leans back, nodding. The silence hovers for a second, then he asks, “How’ve you been liking it here?”

“New York or the company?”

Hugh shrugs. “Either. Both.”

“New York I’m liking more than I thought I would. I’m from Maine,” Dex says, smiling in that way Nursey describes as country-boy-sheepish, “so I’m used to some greenery, but the city has its perks too.”

“Good, good!” Hugh grins. “I grew up in the country too. Northern Michigan. It sure is an adjustment. But I think it’s worth it.”

“Working here has helped,” Dex says, and if Nursey was here he’d probably cough to poorly disguise a kiss up but he isn’t really lying. Working here has proved to him that he would enjoy going into this field, and while he is keeping his options open, that’s a good thing to know.

“Oh, I’m glad,” Hugh says, gesturing haphazardly with his cake. “We’re lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you, sir—Hugh.”

Hugh smiles, and they stand there for a beat, two, and then he says, “Forgive me if this is inappropriate, but are you seeing anyone?”

Dex stiffens. Hugh isn’t—? He’s Dex’s boss, he can’t—is he? It’s like ice, gone down Dex’s back, through his veins. He wants to pinch himself, almost. Is he dreaming? But Luke never said those words before. But the dreams have been stranger lately. Is it—?

“Because my brother,” Hugh continues to speak, unaware, “just got out of college and I couldn’t help but notice the Bruins t-shirt you had on last Friday and he is the biggest hockey fan—”

Nursey is there, suddenly, and he’s right there, bumping his shoulder into Dex’s. He’s out of breath and smiling and warm and Dex leans back into him without thinking. “I am so sorry I’m late,” he’s saying, to Dex, and then to Hugh, “I’m sorry, I just completely interrupted you. I’m Nursey—well, Derek, but everyone calls me Nursey, so take your pick.” Then, to Dex, “Do you go as Dex or William here?” He scrunches up his face. “William. Ew. You sound like an uncle.”

“I was named after my uncle,” Dex says, vaguely.

Nursey nods. “Exactly.”

Hugh coughs. “My apologies, Will. I didn’t know—well. I see now.” He smiles, tight. “I’ll let you two catch up,” he says, lifting his cake, untouched, in parting.

“What was that about?” Nursey ask, peering after him obviously. “Ooh, is that cake?”

Dex hands over the rest of his second slice. He isn’t much hungry now.

“You will not believe my trip here,” Nursey says, beginning to eat. “It was, like, totally unchill, dude.”

Nursey hasn’t moved, still pressed up against Dex’s shoulder. Dex takes a deep breath. “Tell me about it,” he says, and Nursey does.

*~*~*

“—and all the ladies at church say hi,” Ma says, over speaker phone as she works around the kitchen. 

The table, a continuous project, has been tabled for now—pun intended—for the sake of getting the dishes clean. Ma has to yell over the roar of the faucet. Dex is doing his own tidying as he folds laundry and listens to Ma talk. She always did used to talk while doing chores, Dex following her around, soothed by the words and the humming and the simplicity. It’s been a while since they’ve done chores together, and the familiarity, the comfort, mellows an ache in Dex’s chest.

“They all worry for you down in the big city,” Ma says, scrubbing audibly. “They don’t like the idea of a sweet country boy like you surrounded by all that crime and greyness.”

“You can tell them I’m holding my own,” Dex says, which makes Ma laugh a little, the short chuckle thing that he inherited from her.

“I will,” she says. A small clatter comes over the line as she, presumably, adds a dish to the drying rack. “They’re all in a tizzy planning for the July 4th social. I’ve been assigned drink coordination, which really means fielding arguments between Mrs. McMahon and Mrs. Fielding about soda over spirits, even though we all know we’re going to end up with the same drinks we always get and one of the rotten teenage boys is going to spike the lemonade despite whatever ridiculousness Mr. Spaulding tries to rig up.”

Dex smiles, remembering. When he was a kid and accidentally drank some of the spiked lemonade and wouldn’t stop giggling the whole ride home, when he was a teen and helped his then-girlfriend Isabelle spike it herself, when he was back from college and roped into standing watch over the lemonade but let one of the teens through anyway, on account of tradition.

“Oh, and you’ll never guess who I ran into in the grocery store the other day,” Ma continues as Dex reminisces. He probably could guess—there’s only so many people in their town, after all—but he lets Ma tell it how she wants as he searches for the pair to the sock in his hand. “Do you remember your old hockey captain? Luke Rossi?”

Dex freezes with his hand buried in laundry. A chill runs through the apartment.

“I ran into his mother,” Ma continues without a response. “She looks great—she says it’s yoga! I wish I had the time for something like that. But she was telling me all about Luke—you remember him, he was your hockey captain back when you were what? A sophomore?”

“A freshman,” Dex says, rough.

“Oh, that’s right. Well, anyway, his mother was telling me, he’s working with some big company out in Boston. He’s engaged! His mother says the girl is sweet as all get out, a tiny little thing. And she’s one of us, a ginger!”

Dex sits back on his couch. Small. Ginger.

“His mother’s just thrilled. It must be so nice to have a son engaged. Jay’s been with Kelsey for years, but who knows with him. Maybe I should send him Luke’s way, let that boy rub off on him!” Ma laughs. “Maybe he could rub off on you, too.”

A sick kind of laugh bubbles up in Dex’s throat. He swallows.

“It was just such a surprise. I knew all those kids you boys were friends with in high school, but I never get to hear what happens to them after, really. Luke was such a nice boy, too. It was just nice to hear about him.”

Nice. Yeah.

*~*~*

He dreams he is swallowing ice.

Someone’s mouth is on his and their tongue is heavy, leaden. Dex’s mouth catches on it, too cold, and it rips the skin from his lips until they’re bloodied. Copper stains everything, his tongue and eyes, and it rushes until he can’t hear anything but the blood.

He tries to open his eyes, and between one blink and the next the boy above him shifts, blond hair and blue eyes and too many teeth, then green and smile and salvation, and back again, sickening, spinning.

He manages to push himself away, sits up in whatever bed, ocean, driftwood, he’s on. Ma stands in the doorway. “Luke was such a nice boy,” she says, smiling, laughing. “That friend of yours, Nurse something? Is he a nice boy?” she asks, frowning suddenly, eyes intent.

“You’re wrong,” Dex goes to say, but chokes on the blood on his lips. He looks back over to the end of the bed, where Luke or Nursey or whoever is sitting, except it’s not just them anymore, it’s Jack and Hugh and Bitty, even, and they’re all staring at him.

“Good work,” they say, “If you work hard, you could take this somewhere,” they say, “Keep it up,” they say.

“She’s one of us,” Ma says, “Maybe he could rub off on you,” she says, “Nice boy,” she says.

Through it all, he can hear Nursey. “I love you,” shivers down Dex’s spine, ice. Dex swallows and swallows and tries to push through the rest of the voices to find Nursey in the haze.

Dex wakes up running and doesn’t—can’t—stop.

*~*~*

The sky is dark and the world is dizzyingly bright when Dex knocks on Nursey’s front door.

By all rights, it should be too warm to stomach. Late June, with all these people stuffed into one little place, blistering. But Dex clutches his jacket to his body, shivering. He can’t get warm. He can never get warm.

“Dex?” Nursey answers the door with a frown. Dex’s eyes catch on it and can’t pull away.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“I—okay?”

Dex nods. He steps inside, around Nursey, and their arms brush. It burns.

“What’s going on?” Nursey asks, shutting the door.

“Are your parents home?” Dex turns around to face him. The door—big and green behind Nursey—brings out the deeper green tones in his worried eyes. Nursey’s eyes have always made Dex homesick. Now, he aches.

“No,” Nursey says. “Mom’s in Milan and Dad’s in Chicago and Mama—she’s somewhere in the UK. Why are you—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Okay?” His face is all scrunched and his hair’s a little messy, curls hanging over his forehead, and he’s soft in Samwell pajama bottoms and so fucking gorgeous and Dex’s whole body is shaking, shivering, freezing.

“I—I’ve been having these dreams,” Dex says, hands clenching in his pockets. “For months now, these—these dreams about—” He swallows and shakes his head. “And now he’s engaged and it doesn’t—it doesn’t make sense, he—he shouldn’t get to move on when I’m drowning every fucking night, I don’t—I—”

“Dex.” Nursey is closer. Hands up, palms forward. Frowning. “What are you talking about?”

Dex shakes his head, but all of him is shaking and he doesn’t—he shouldn’t have come here. His broken brain isn’t Nursey’s problem, just because he’s in New York doesn’t mean they’re more than what they were before all this. Just because Dex’s home isn’t home anymore doesn’t mean he can build one in Nursey.

“I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—I should go.” His mouth tastes like a panic attack. How did he make the decision to come here in the middle of the night?

“Dex.” Nursey grabs onto Dex’s forearm, a brand. “Sit down. Please.”

Dex stares at Nursey’s hand. He hasn’t been warm in—it feels like years, now. It feels like he went out into the Maine winter one year with a boy’s hand curled around his wrist and frost spread from that point out and he never got warm again.

“Nursey,” Dex says, the word broken like so many shards of ice, and Nursey’s grip on his arm stutters, hesitation. Dex, without thinking, breaks the hold, and in the next moment he has his mouth pressed against Nursey and it’s warm, it’s warm, it’s—

Dex doesn’t know if he’s been alive, before this. The heat from Nursey’s mouth, soft and surprised and then—firmer, more intent, it warms him from the bones out, until his skin itches with it, sings. Dex sighs into it, slumps.

Hands come up to his cheeks, pull him back, so soft. “Dex,” Nursey says, quiet. “Can we please sit down?”

Okay, Dex thinks. He breathes. Okay.

*~*~*

Nursey makes them cocoa. In July.

Dex holds the mug between his shaking hands and explains, in starts, but mostly stops. I had this captain when I was a kid, he says, and then, not a kid, he says. Well.

“I was fourteen,” he says. “He was—older. I wanted—I wanted to be good for him.”

I was, he says, but doesn’t quite make the words work.

“Ma never knew. No one ever knew. Ma, though, she loved him. Thought he—brought me out of my shell.” He brushes his thumbs along the sides of the mug, takes a sip and licks marshmallow off his lip.

He jumps in time. “After Bitty and Jack—after the kiss, home wasn’t—home. Maybe before that, too, but—but after the kiss, everyone knew, they knew I was.” He shakes his head. “It was hard to be there. So I came here.”

She doesn’t, he says. She thinks, he says. “Ma thinks you’re gay, because you live in New York, and you go to Samwell, and it’s easier to think it’s—it’s you. Easier than thinking it’s me.”

Nursey holds back questions. Dex swallows. It’s me, he says. I talk about you. Too much. She worries. She thinks—she sees. Sees that I—that I love—hm. “She doesn’t like it,” he says, without finishing the last sentence. “It worries her. It worries me, I guess.”

He tries to put it together. The dreams—they pulled it all together. “She looks at Luke and she doesn’t—she likes him, he’s a nice boy, but he—he left me with all of these—these things, the things where I can’t have a normal relationship with my fucking boss, and all this—this cold in my body, and she doesn’t—she likes him when he is so cold and she doesn’t like you when you’re so warm and it just—I couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong it was and how angry it made me and Nursey, it’s just—it’s so—you’re so–”

Nursey curls his mug-warm hand over Dex’s knee. “Hey,” he says, quiet. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Dex says, and he can feel the way his eyes are rimmed red, itchy, and hear the hoarseness in his throat, and feel the way that Nursey’s hand burns against his skin, and he wishes that he’d done this different, more coherently, earlier.

“No,” Nursey agrees, “it’s not. But I—it’s late. And we’re both tired. We can talk more in the morning, if you want. But I think—I think we both need to sleep.”

Dex swallows. He tastes cocoa and gratitude and—thick, clinging love. “Okay,” he breathes.

Nursey leads him up to a bedroom filled with books. Mussed blankets encourage Dex into the bed. Nursey gets in on the other side. It’s cozy and the duvet is heavy against his aching body and the ceiling is blue and Dex is not alone.

Nursey curls his hand around Dex’s, under the blankets. Dex curls back, and squeezes.

“I love,” Dex says and swallows.

“I know,” Nursey says, close, breath hot against Dex’s skin. “Me, too.”

Dex closes his eyes. He may dream. He may not. Either way, when he opens his eyes, he will not be cold.

[sexyrasputin]

“Did Dex say what came up?” Rome asked, peering over Luca’s arm at his phone. They were in the backseat of V’s car since she had the front seat stacked full of junk and was “too lazy to move it.” Their reservation for dinner at 7:15 was looming, and Rome wasn’t sure why Dex had cancelled at the last minute. It was unlike her.

“No,” Luca said, sounding as confused as she was. Rome stared at his phone a few moments longer—definitely longer than necessary—before sitting fully back in her own seat.

“Probably had to deal with some pack related stuff,” V suggested from the front seat. Luca looked skeptical, but he didn’t say anything. He knew Dex better than she did, but not as well as V did. Rome was the outsider here, somehow. By her own doing.

V parked the car and the three climbed out before she gave the keys to the valet. She led the way inside the restaurant, flashing the hostess a smile and walking straight to the private room they always reserved in the back. Usually Rome was here for her monthly lunches with Luca, not dinner. But it was V’s favorite dinner place.

Rome walked quickly to keep up with Luca’s fast pace, and V practically sped ahead.

“It’s weird to be here for dinner,” Rome mused, wanting to talk to Luca but not knowing what to say. Goodness, when had this happened? What had she done to herself if she couldn’t talk with Luca? He’d been one of her closest friends as kids, and her boyfriend for a good year and a half before Adria died. They always had plenty to talk about.

“It’ll be weird to have an open bar,” Luca mused, glancing Rome’s way with a playful wink. He was joking. Luca was joking with her! At least, she thought he was joking.

They made it to the back room, only to be confronted by a grim V.

“My dad is calling a spontaneous family dinner. I gotta get Matteo and go.” Her voice was serious, but she didn’t sound quite as annoyed as she had in earlier sudden family dinner announcements. Probably since she’d have Matteo there. He was like V’s emotional support dog.

Before Luca or Rome could say a single word, V pushed past them, pushing Luca closer to Rome in the process. His arm brushed against hers, his fingers grazing hers, and Rome really, really wanted to grab his hand. She’d never even been a hand holder! Hands got sweaty and gross easily. But it was different now for some reason.

“Then there were two,” Luca said, pulling Rome’s chair out for her. She needed to resist the urge to smile at him, so she smiled to herself instead.

Rome didn’t know what to say, so she picked up the menu she had memorized months ago. Lunch wasn’t that different from dinner.

“What can I get y’all to drink?” a feminine voice asked. Rome looked up to the waitress to find her eyes focused solely on Luca. Not just on Luca, but on his exposed chest and the tattoos beneath his mostly buttoned shirt.

“I’ll just have a beer,” Luca answered, surprising her. Whiskey was his favorite poison. She wasn’t sure she’d seen him willingly drink beer in years. Apparently it hadn’t been strong enough, V had once told Rome. Was Luca suddenly doing better?

The waitress flashed him an award winning smile before glancing over to Rome with a flat face. “And you?”

Rome’s eyes narrowed. Okay. The waitress was jealous of Rome because Rome was there with Luca and the waitress wasn’t, but it wasn’t like this was a date. It couldn’t be a date. No, of course not.

“Red wine,” Rome snipped. The waitress walked off with a roll of her eyes.

Rome didn’t look back to Luca until she heard the door of their private room close. He was smirking at her!

“I take it you don’t like our server?”

Her eyes narrowed. “She wasn’t nice.”

“Yes, she was.” His smirk widened just enough for Rome to notice.

“To you!” Maybe she shouldn’t have reacted to his taunting smirk, because that was definitely what it was, but Luca always knew just how to rule her up.

“Are you upset that she’s jealous of you?” Luca challenged. Great. He knew his sex appeal and he was going to shove it in Rome’s face. It wasn’t like his face wasn’t already doing that. It also didn’t help that she wanted him to shove his face against hers, but maybe in a nicer way.

Rome spluttered, taking a second too long to reply. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Luca raised an eyebrow at her. “You know exactly what I mean, Ro.”

Ro. It was such a simple, simple nickname, but Luca hadn’t called her that in years. Since the day she pushed him away after Adria’s death. Heartbreak washed over her, regret threatened to drown her, and Luca’s freaking sexy smirk pulled her ashore to reality.

Luca called her Ro.

Was this what redemption looked like?

“I—“

He didn’t give her a chance to recover, chuckling as she stumbled for words.

“Dex and V didn’t have anything come up. They planned this from the beginning.” Amusement sparkled in Luca’s eyes, and the truth of the situation finally acknowledged itself in Rome’s head.

Dex wasn’t flaky. She always gave a reason if she had to miss something. Luca knew this.

V kept a meticulously clean car. She was far from lazy. Except for maybe vacuuming up dog hair.

V wasn’t nearly pissed off enough for her dad to have called a spontaneous family dinner.

Rome’s eyes narrowed as reality settled around her. “Did you know they were planning this?”

He shrugged, fighting back an arrogant smile. “Not until V left.”

Rome didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what to say! V and Dex had obviously clued in to her change of feelings (well, Rome had outright told V...) and had taken advantage of it. Rome was grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with Luca alone, in a positive mood, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready. How did she talk with Luca? How did she act normal with him? What would be the new normal with Luca?

Most of all, Rome was scared. She was so settled in pushing Luca away and renouncing everything she could that had anything to do with him that she wasn’t sure how to go back to loving him. She was scared of her own feelings because of her old feelings.

“What’s wrong?” Luca’s voice was soft, and Rome knew she wanted to curl up in his arms with how gentle he was being. She really had always loved cuddling with Luca... Cuddling with Derek had never been the same.

But Luca wanted to know what was wrong. Rome wanted to say nothing, to pretend everything was fine, but she had vowed to stop lying to Luca and to herself.

She was on a date with her estranged mate. She was scared about the new and exciting changes. She was nervous because she wasn’t in control of her feelings anymore. She wasn’t alone anymore. She didn’t hate Luca anymore.

The waitress practically barged in with their drinks, pulling Rome and Luca’s attention to her flirty smile and now slightly more unbuttoned blouse.

She set Rome’s drink on the table without a word. Luca’s beer, however, was accompanied with a cheery “here you go, love,” and a hand brushing against his shoulder.

Rome stiffened.

“You can stop flirting with my date now.”

Her own voice surprised her with its confidence. But she was right. Luca was her date—and her mate—and she wasn’t going to let anyone else get close enough to lay a hand on him.

The waitress turned to Rome with a scoff. “I wasn’t flirting. That’d be against the rules.”

“Oh, because calling someone love and touching their shoulder unnecessarily isn’t flirting.”

The waitress rolled her eyes. “It’s just being friendly. Maybe you should look it up in the dictionary.”

Okay. That was enough.

“Luca, let’s get dinner somewhere else tonight.” Rome stood up, looking over at her mate expectantly. He was holding back a chuckle—if not something more—as he stood from his chair, dropping a single large bill on the table, just enough to cover their too expensive drinks.

“You were flirting, by the way,” Luca smarted off to the waitress as he followed Rome’s lead out the door.

Rome didn’t say as they made their way outside. They didn’t stop until they reached the corner of the street a few feet away.

“I forgot how cute you are when you’re jealous,” Luca teased, smiling down at Rome. She glared at him.

“I was not jealous.”

“Oh? Maybe the right word is possessive. Either way, it’s hot.”

“I thought you said it was cute!”

“You’re both.”

Rome glared up at Luca, or at least she tried to. His cheery, arrogant grin kept her from being angry.

“Fine.” Her weak assertion—or concession—did nothing to Luca.

“Fine.”

She stood there, glaring (aka staring) up at Luca for what felt like the longest time. The cut he’d obtained during that last day with Adria, a diagonal slice through the arch of his right eyebrow, had scarred over nicely. His pale green eyes were focused right on her. His ringlets were all over the place just as they usually were. He was his normal self, but Rome hadn’t let herself admire Luca in years.

He looked like coming home.

“Where do you want to actually go for dinner?” Luca asked, interrupting Rome’s attentive staring contest with herself. He nudged her foot with his.

“Somewhere close by. These shoes are not meant for walking.” Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze down to her preciously tall high heels.

Luca snorted, and gestured to the restaurant across the street. It was basically an old diner, if even that fancy. Rome didn’t know how it had lasted this long out in the rich district of town. Probably because someone in the pack owned it. They weren’t exactly broke.

“The old diner work? If I remember correctly, you are in love with their chocolate malts.”

Rome grumbled incoherently. He was too good at this whole romancing her thing. “Yeah, I guess.”

Her voice may have been grumbly, but Rome’s smile had finally broken free.

“C’mon then, Ro, so we can get you that chocolate malt.” Luca didn’t say anything as his hand wrapped around Rome’s, and she did her best to stay calm at his forgotten but familiar touch.

Maybe this really was what redemption was.

[itslight-ishred]

Valentine’s Day Dance

Okay, so I’m a couple hours late on this, but I made it through all the distractions to finally bring you my first completed fic in over a year! This is my gift to @mlm-benvolio​ for the RvB Valentine’s Day gift exchange and first time posting one of my works to Tumblr. Enjoy. (will fix formatting if needed) @rvbgiftexchange Ship(s): Grimmons w/background Docnut and Locoboose and mentioned Tuckington 1,800+ words    "Dude, if you don't ask him out, I'm not talking to you ever again."        The lanky red-head gave out a sharp, fake gasp at those words, closing his locker and holding the non-robotic hand to his chest and faking a hurt expression. "You wouldn't. Who else would I talk to?"        "Wouldn't I?" This led to a full two minute stare-down between them both before a taller boy came by and picked up his older brother, squeezing him tight.     "Tucker! I just asked Loco to the Valentine's dance!"        "Okay, if Caboose can ask Loco, you can totally ask Dex," Lavernius gasped out, struggling to get out of his adopted brother's tight grasp. "Seriously, though, what's taking you so long? We all know you like him. Well, except maybe Dex himself."    

   Slinging his bag onto his shoulder, Richard just thought this over a bit as the three headed for the student parking lot. Passing through the commons, they noticed Franklin hugging Frank tight, but not nearly as tight as Michael had done to his brother. The blond noticed them and quickly broke the hug, dragging his boyfriend over to them. Before he could even say a word, Richard stopped him.    "He just asked you out to the dance?"        "Yes!! Has Dex asked you yet? Cause then we could go suit shopping together!" As usual, his younger brother was way too excited about these things than anyone had a right to be, but Franklin had always loved dressing up and going to parties.         "Dude, you don't need to go out and buy a whole suit for this. Not like it's prom," Lavernius told the junior. "Just pick something nice you already have. And can someone please tell Rich here that there's no way Dex would turn him down?"        Franklin's head perked up at that, looking his older brother dead in the eyes. "Rich, if he doesn't say yes, he's an idiot and in denial. He's been over for dinner more this year than the last three combined."        "I rest my case. Now c'mon, I've got a baby who's probably driving my dad up the walls."        Once out in the parking lot, Richard looked around for Dexter's old beater that was in this horrible, bright orange with the doors painted an even brighter yellow. Apparently having sensed his rising anxiety, F.I.L.S.S. started playing music from his relaxation playlist through the headphones around his neck that were connected to his prosthetic arm. "Thanks," he muttered to the AI before speaking up to get his younger brother's attention, giving the keys an underhand toss. "I'm gonna go find Dex. I'll be home in time to make dinner, promise." All of the other teens smiled at him as he jogged off, going up and down the rows to hopefully beat Dexter to his own car.        Thankfully he'd made it just a couple minutes before the shorter senior came over, drinking a soda that he'd gotten from one of the vending machines. "Oh, hey, man. Not goin' home yet?"        "Told Franklin I'd be back to start dinner. Wanted to hang out with you a bit." Dex raised an eyebrow at this but just shrugged, unlocking the car and getting in. It didn't take long for Richard to realize they weren't going to the middle school to pick up Kai. "Uhh. . . ."        "Relax, she's spending the weekend with some friends at a sleepover since our parents are out of town."        "So you're staying home alone? All weekend?"        "Yep."    Somehow this felt like the perfect opportunity to finally suck it up and ask him. No Kai around to spy on them, and nothing embarrassing to try explaining to their adopted parents. So far, so good. When they got to the Grifs' house, both teens kicked off their shoes and put their backpacks by the door, Richard setting up Halo 12 while Dexter went to the kitchen to grab some drinks and some chips. He made sure the red head was getting a thing of carrot juice, while he grabbed another soda for himself. "So, what's up? Normally you give me a heads up before showing up at my car."     "Eh, just didn't wanna hear Franklin talk my ear off about matching suits with Frank or whatever. Also hoping to avoid having Tucker call me to complain how stupid it is that he can't invite Wash to the dance. Pretty likely he'd also complain about Caboose not shutting up about asking Loco out."     "Are those two actually dating or . . . . ?"     "Dunno. But they're definitely going to the dance together." They sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to play a couple practice games of capture the flag before deciding whether or not they wanted to do an online match. "So, uh, are you going with anyone? If at all?"     "Maybe? No one's asked yet, and I'm not sure anyone would really wanna go with me. You going?"     Richard just shrugged before recoiling a bit at a sudden, sharp pain in his arm. "Ow! F.I.L.S.S.!"     "My apologies. I must have hit a wrong nerve trying to move the fingers."     The taller teen glared down at his metallic arm for a second, going back to their game and attempting to continue the conversation. "Been thinking about it. Had sort of an idea who to ask. Besides, Sarge'd want me to go to keep an eye on Franklin anyway."     "Good ol' Sarge."     Feeling the AI in control of his arm in the back of his head and ready to send more shocks up his arm, Richard took a deep breath. "Do you wanna go to the dance? With . . . . me? Maybe? You don't have to, y'know, but if you want, it'd be nice. But you don't have to!"     "Dick?"     "Yeah?"     "Course, dumbass. Who else would I go with?"     About an hour later, the lanky teen found himself back home and in-between on steps in cooking dinner, Franklin bouncing in place as he sat on the counter, watching impatiently. "So?"     "So what?"     "Did you ask him?"     "Did Rich ask who what?" Sarge asked, coming into the kitchen to see what his boys were talking about.     "Richard asked Dexter to the dance this Valentine's Day," F.I.L.S.S. spoke up for the boy, knowing he was too nervous from earlier still to hold any sort of conversation.     "Bout dang time, son. You been fawnin' over him for the last four years now. How late's the dance s'posed ta go?"     "11:30 the latest," the blond teen answered back, their dad just nodding, knowing he could trust them both to not stay out too late.     Later that night, Franklin had texted Lavernius the good news, and the two proceeded to gush over this new development together, the older of the two saying he was afraid they wouldn't ask each other out until well after they graduated in a few months. The next few days were then spent with both of them trying to pick out a classy outfit to the dance, Lavernius saying he'd probably have to take Dexter shopping if the man had any hope of looking decent. So by the time the dance was there, their entire group showed up dressed in black slacks(minus Franklin who was in white with Frank), and they all had their own solid-color button-ups.     Loco and Michael tried splitting their time between the dance floor and eating snacks, while Franklin couldn't sit down from sheer excitement. Richard was too awkward to even attempt dancing, so he was glad to hang back and have some snacks with Dexter, making sure the shorter male didn't get the shirt or pants Lavernius had bought too messy. Speaking of which, he hadn't seen the darker skinned teen since getting into the main hall. This wasn't going to end well. . . .     "So, probably brought this up sooner, but why did you ask me here? I mean, we're not dating or whatever Loco and Caboose are."     "And you call me the dumbass. . . . I kinda thought it'd be obvious? I asked you out to the Valentine's Day dance. Should be pretty self-explanatory."     Dexter nodded a bit, eating a few more bites of his snacks. "True. But I wanna hear you say it."     Now Richard's face was starting to turn a similar shade of red as his hair, if just a shade darker. It wasn't a nearly full-body blush like Wash was known to get from time-to-time, but it did make his freckles blend together a bit. Just as she had last week, F.I.L.S.S. threatened to shock him again if he didn't speak up soon. Her personality had been really weird since Thanksgiving, he'd have to talk to Dr. Church about that.     "I- I like you, okay? I missed you a lot after you had to leave, and then you came back and I thought things'd be like when we were kids again, but it wasn't, and it still isn't, which I think is okay, y'know? We still bicker a lot sometimes, but it's not like when we were little. And you're always there for me when I need it, and you didn't hate me when you found out about me being a boy. Still can't believe you outed me in bio, though. I know, it was an accident. But you're my best friend, and I don't think I would've wanted to ask anyone else to come with me." Taking a deep breath, he started calming down a bit. "Honestly, it was probably a good thing you had to leave cause I think even when we were kids I had a crush on you. And I don't think I could've sorted that out on my own if you were still living with us."     "Huh. Good to know. I like you a lot, too. Thought about you the whole time I was gone. I mean, hard not to, considering you're why I was able to get my skin grafts. So even though you weren't around, you kinda were?" Side-eyeing the other, Dexter noticed the blush had gotten darker "So . . . are we dating now?"    "I think so? If you want to, anyway."     "Cool, guess I can finally do this," the heavier teen said, more of to himself, before leaning over and kissing his now-boyfriend, able to feel the heat radiate off his face from how flushed he was. It was at that moment that a bright flash got their attention, making them look up and see the overhead balcony where one Lavernius Tucker Church stood with his phone out, cheering in triumph.     "Finally! I've waited four years for this!" he cheered before running off to find his younger brother for safety.     "Wha- Tucker, no, I wanna dance with Loco more!" the younger boy tried telling him, as he tried climbing up his back and onto his shoulders. Lavernius just reassured him it'd just be for a little bit, to protect him from Dexter.     "Okay, Tucker's officially the group dumbass now."

[fiftyshadesgrl]

Consumed part 7

(Y/n)'s pov

I cant believe i agreed to a night out with dean, well not just dean cause sam would be there but still. I put on pair of faded ripped jeans and a red strapless top, it laced up in the back like a corset which i loved then i slid on my black wedges. I done my makeup and checked myself three times before i walked out to the living room.

Deans jaw dropped and he didnt try to hide it, sam looked at me and gave me a thumbs up. I grabbed my black clutch bag and placed my cell phone inside. "Ready?" I tried to hide my nervousness as i walked out on the porch. After sam and dean came out behind me i turned and locked the door.

"Whos ride we taking?" Sam asked, i shrugged as dean jingled his keys in front of us. After we all climbed in the impala dean set off down the street.

"Theres a place ive been to a couple times, about ten minutes away." I say from the back seat. Dean nods and i direct him to where bullys bar and grill is. There was only two other cars parked in front of bullys, but it was before 8 pm so of course it hasnt started up yet.

As we walk in i see one of my good friends who happens to be the bartender behind the bar. "Hey dex!" I say to him as i slap my hand on the bar.

"Hey darlin' long time no see. Whereve you been?" He walks over and pour a glass of whiskey for me, my usual.

"Just busy with work and everything." I say, i motion to sam and dean, "dex this is sam and his brother dean. Guys this is dex."

Sam nods but dean just glares at him. I nudge deans arm and clear my throat. Dean straightens up and says, "two beers and a bottle of whiskey." Dex nods politely and brings dean and sam their drinks.

"Hows life been dex? I havent seen you in months." I ask him as he leans on the var in front of me.

"Ah," he shrugs, "been going through alot of changes here lately but other than that the same old thing."

"What kind of changes?"

He shakes his head, "nope my secret will be revealed all in good time."

I smile widely at him, "ohhhh, sounds like someone has a lady friend." I wiggle my finger at him.

He laughs, "something like that." Someone signals him at the end of the bar, he promises to be right back and i just nod. Dean grabs my arm and twirls me on my stool to where im facing him.

"What the hell dean?" I jerk away from him.

His eyes stare daggers at me but i dont wilt under his green eyes. "No, what the hell was that? You fucking the bartender now?"

I furrowed my brows, "what!? No! Even if i was its none of your business."

He squinted his eyes at me but sam spoke up before we made a scene. "Come on, we came out to have fun. Can you two at least be civil for just a fee hours?"

"I was being civil until this ass decide to start something." I said as i turned back around.

I saw from the corner of my eye sam placed a hand on deans shoulder and whisper something to him. Dean nodded and turned to me. "Im sorry (y/n)." I just nodded as i gulped my whiskey down and poured another. Sam sighed and gulped down some of his beer but it wasnt long before things went back to normal, whatever normal was for us.

Sam spied some brunette on the other side of the bar and had been in her company most of the night. Dean found a blonde and was occupied by her for the moment. I was left sitting at the bar drinking whiskey, a half bottle gone already. Dex walked over and stopped in front of me.

"Ya know what." I said a little to loudly, being halfway drunk. "I like being alone."

Dex nodded and chuckled, "thats a good thing. Most people think you have to have a significant other to be happy."

I shook my head a little to fast making the room spin. "Nope! Not me! I mean look around us everyone who comes here is only looking for one of two things."

Dex raised his eyebrows at me. "Those two things would be?"

"A, wanting to drown their sorrows or 2 their looking to get laid. But ya see once the lay part is over theyll be back to drown their sorrows." I pour myself some more whiskey.

He crosses his arms, just like a certain person that drives me crazy. "Comes full circle then, huh?" He says as he wipes down the counter.

I raise my glass to him and hiccup, "thats life for ya. Always chasing something but never truly getring your hands on it." I looked back at dean who was whispering something in the blondes ear, making her giggle and playfully smack his shoulder.

Dex looked from dean to me. "You okay darlin'?" I nodded and downed my whole glass then poured another. I felt a hand on my shoulder a few minutes later while me and dex were talking, i turned and it was dean.

I raised my glass towards him, "well if it isnt mr charm the panties off any girl coming or going himself." I patted the stool next to me and he sat down. I looked at dex, "his charm used to work on me, but my panties wasnt enough for him."

Dean cleared his throat and dex chuckled and looked down. My brain to mouth filter was gone at this moment. "(Y/n) hoe much have you had to drink?" Dean asked and i held the bottle out to him as i started pouring more in my glass. He grabbed the bottle from me and handed it to dex. "I think youve had enough."

I nodded, "youre right, i have had enough. Ive had enough of you." I poked my finger in his chest and he actually looked surprised. "Ive had enough of you acting like you care then make an excuse to come out and bring me along just to be hitting on some bottled dye hair blonde."

He laughed, i knew my words didnt come out right but for some reason i couldnt make them come out right. "See that just shows you dont care about me. You never did!"

Dean stood and grabbed my arm, "alright, its time to go home."

I jerked away from him, i lifted my hand to slap him but he caught my wrist. "What do you know about home. You had something called a home when you had me but it wasnt good enough was it." He bent and threw me over his shoulder.

I fought for a minute then felt all the alcohol i drank starting to make its way north. "Dean put me down!" He kept walking, "seriously dean, im going to puke all over that fine ass." He set me down quickly and just as quickly i leaned over and not so gracefully upchucked all over the pavement.

Dean held my hair back, i swatted at his hand but he didnt let go. When dry heaves was all that came out dean spoke rubbing my back. "You done?"

I nodded wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I started to sway as i stood up straight but soon was in deans arms. The next thing i knew i was being carried down a hallway, my hallway into my bed. Dean took my shoes off first then my shorts and shirt, i wanted to resist but my limbs were like jello.

He took his flannel and put my arms through it then buttoned it up. I wrapped my arms around myself and took in the scent that is only described as dean. He turned to leave but i grabbed his hand.

"Dean?" I whisper.

He looked down at me in what seemed like surprise, "yeah?"

I patted the bed and he sat down. "Im sorry."

"For what sweetheart?" His fingers were rubbing circles on the back of my hand.

"For not being enough for you. I tried so hard to make you happy, but i failed. Just like i do with everything else. I hate that i couldnt keep you home at night, that you felt like you had to go elsewhere to get what you wanted. Most of all i hate myself. I hate because i failed and mostly i hate that i still love you." My eyes became heavy as they started to close i whispered, "stay with me."

He hesitated but then he pulled his boots off and crawled in bed beside me. I nestled my head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around me. I fisted his shirt as i felt my tears coming through my lashes as my eyes closed. "Ive really missed you." I whisper.

He kissed the top of my head, "ive missed you to baby."

I hummed when he said that, "i love it when you call me that." Sleep overtook me then, i didnt dream that night but i had the best night of sleep in a long time.

@holylulusworld @an-unhealthy-obsession @tftumblin @vicmc624 @justanotherwinchester

[zimmerdouche]

The Logistics of Fae, or: How to Finally Get Your Fucking Sink Fixed

Read it on AO3!

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, Nursey was drunk. And maybe, just maybe, the guy seemed a little odd. But hey, everyone glows when you’re wasted, right?

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” He slides onto the stool next to the man at the end of the bar. “Because you must be an angel.”

Read it on AO3!

“Fae, actually.” The man takes a sip of the bright yellow cocktail in front of him. It sparkles, lit up by a faint gold aura.

“Guess I can’t give you my name then, huh?” He knew about the fae – his cousin married a changeling a few years back – but it had been a while since he met one in person.

“Like I’d give you mine, either.” His eyes are the same color as his aura, a smooth gold that reminds Nursey of the honey in his cupboard at home. They match the twinkle of the cocktail on the bar and he wonders if the fae ordered that drink on purpose.

“Call me Nursey.”

“Dex.”

“Now, I know if you like the fae, you give them an offering – can I buy you a drink?” Nursey leans forward. “Or you could at least tell me what you’re drinking now. It’s sparkly as hell and I want one.”

“This drink would kill a human,” Dex says bluntly. “And I made an agreement with the bouncer that I wouldn’t harm any humans tonight, so I won’t contribute to your downfall.”

“Do you regularly harm humans?”

“Not regularly.” Nursey sees his eyes flash. “But it’s a requirement for fae to enter the bar.”

“Well, that’s good. Dying wasn’t in my plans tonight.”

“Interesting that you chose to come to a faerie bar, then,” Dex says with a grin. He turns to face the sea of tables filling the open space of the bar. For a split-second, Nursey swears he sees his teeth sparkle.

“If I can’t share your cocktail, should I order you another one?”

Dex downs the remaining liquid in his glass. “I’m good. Not really in the mood to part with any more favors, and the money equivalent of faerie favors, is, well…” He grits his teeth.

Nursey’s look of confusion must prompt him to explain. “The faerie cocktails can only be paid for using favors. The rest of my weekend is booked with home and mechanical repairs. People will give a lot for a faerie to paint their nursery.”

“However,” he continues. “I’ve got some homemade honey mead at my apartment that my neighbor gave me for changing his oil, if you’d like to split it. Human friendly.” His smile returns, easier this time, and his glow subtly strengthens.

Nursey returns the smile. “I’d love to. You live close by?”

“Walking distance. Don’t even need to bust out my wings.”

“Good. I’m too drunk for heights.”

Dex laughs at that, throwing his head back and sounding oddly like church bells. “Well, let’s go then.”

“Lead the way,” Nursey says, enraptured.

Dex lives just down the street, in an apartment building that pricks him with the feeling of home as soon as he walks into the lobby. When he steps foot into Dex’s apartment, it turns into a flood.

“Enchantment,” he explains. “Who I let in here will never feel uncomfortable.”

“Smart,” Nursey replies, settling himself onto the couch as Dex pulls two wine glasses from his cupboard. “What do you do?”

“Computer engineering. You?” He sits next to his guest on the couch and hands him a glass filled with a golden liquid, and yeah, it matches Dex’s eyes.

“I’m a copy editor for a literary magazine.” He sips the mead and feels it warm his chest and stomach. “I wouldn’t expect a faerie to work with computers.”

“There’s magic in everything, including computers.” Dex tastes his mead and rests his hand on Nursey’s shoulder. His glow is bright. He twists his face in thought. “Including you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have faerie blood. Did-” He notices Nursey’s shocked expression. “Did you not know?”

“Uh, no. I mean, leaves follow me around sometimes, but I figured-”

“I mean, it’s a tiny amount. Barely noticeable, but definitely there.”

Nursey leans into his touch. “Does this mean I could’ve tasted your drink?”

Dex extends his arm so that Nursey is nestled into the crook of his shoulder. “No, still would’ve killed you. It’s barely noticeable. If the leaves follow you around, there’s likely a dryad way back in your family tree.” He pauses. “Pun not intended.”

A snort. “Yeah, okay.”

They’re silent after that, sipping on the honey mead until the bottle is empty and Dex has taken to burying his face into the top of Nursey’s head. He inhales deeply. “God, you smell like a dryad.”

“You smell like mmph-” Dex cuts him off with a firm kiss to the lips and they both melt into it, like honey melting into tea, like butterscotch melting on his tongue.

They continue melting into each other as Dex tries to stand and Nursey pushes him back into the couch, planting kisses on his neck and his forehead; a kiss for every golden freckle on his cheeks.

“Anything I should know about faerie sex before I take your clothes off?”

Dex laughs breathlessly and pulls off his t-shirt. “Nothing that’ll fuck you in the bad way.” His eyes flicker with mischief, reminding Nursey of the magic flooding their systems.

“I’m gonna suck your dick,” he murmurs. He discovers more and more golden freckles on the faerie’s torso as he kisses his way down, and when he finally gets his mouth on him, Dex’s gasp sounds like the wind whipping its way through a wheat field.

He whispers expletives in a language that gives Nursey goosebumps, even though he doesn’t understand the words. “Agh, faeguh meurin- Faeguh.”

“Fuck.” He’s overwhelmed by the magic, the mead, the inhuman scent of his partner – it’s not long before they’re both over the edge, and he collapses forward into Dex’s lap.

He buries his fingers in Nursey’s hair and scratches lightly at his scalp. “Holy shit.”

He can’t help but chuckle at Dex’s astonishment. “If it was that good, you owe me food.”

A sweet smile. “It’s the best head I’ve had, well, ever. I owe you more than that.”

Nursey returns the smile. “I’ll settle for a kebab. For now.”

“Deal. For now.”

***

This fucking sink.

Nursey curses as the kitchen faucet spews freezing water all over his hands and t-shirt. It was only a matter of time, he thinks. It’s been leaking for weeks and nothing had been done, despite multiple calls to his landlord.

“I’ll get someone over there lickety split, sweetpea,” he had said, three weeks ago, sounding like literal sunshine. “Just gotta get this pie out of the- oh! Jack!”

“I just want to rinse my dishes,” he groans, attempting to block the spray with his palms. “I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this.”

He adjusts his hands so that one is blocking the water and reaches for his phone because if Eric won’t call someone, he’ll just deal with his wrath after he calls his own guy. It’s better than waiting for hours while sopping wet.

When his fingers are inches from his, thankfully dry, phone, he hears a soft “caucch” behind him. A glowing hand closes over the top of his and the water slows, just enough that he can loosen his grip and not feel like he’ll get more soaked than he is.

“What the hell happened?” Dex says, exasperated. “How does your sink get so bad that it explodes like this?”

“How the hell did you get into my apartment?” Nursey shoots back as Dex heaves a bright red toolbox onto the kitchen counter. “And how the hell was your timing so perfect? I was just about to call someone-”

“Call it intuition.” He does an unintelligible move with a glowing wrench that stops the water entirely. “I picked the lock on your front door. Bitty really needs to up the security on this place.”

“Who?”

“Bitty? The landlord?”

“You mean Er-” Nursey is interrupted by a dripping hand clapping over his mouth.

“He gave you his real name? Faeguh- Bits! He knows better!”

He inspects the faucet further and Nursey takes the opportunity to try and wring some of the water out of his shirt. His efforts are unsuccessful.

“Looks like your valve seat was corroded. I don’t have a spare one, but the wrench fixed it up pretty nice, if I do say so myself.” He mutters under his breath and the faucet spout glows gold. “It’ll last until you move out.”

“Uh, thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s no problem.” Dex places the wrench back into his toolbox and closes the lid. “It’s on me. I owed you one.”

“What?”

“I owed you one. From when we were at my place? After the bar last month?”

Nursey is in shock. “From when I sucked your dick?”

“Well, yeah. I said I owed you one. And you said I owed you food, and I said I owed you more than that, and you agreed, and then we got kebabs and then we passed out on my couch and had pancakes for breakfast?” The gold flecking Dex’s cheeks is even more noticeable when he blushes.

“That’s not how sex works, Dex.”

“When I say, ‘I owe you,’ that’s a binding agreement. Besides, it was quite literally the best sex of my life. So, until I have better sex, just call me if you need something fixed.”

He peeks into Nursey’s living room. “I can come over Memorial Day weekend, if you want, and help paint. The green is fucking ugly. I’ve told Bitty as much.”

“I like the green!”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Nursey inhales deeply. “Fine. It’s not my favorite. But I’m attached to it at this point, okay?”

“But consider. A pale cream with green throw pillows.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Excellent!” Dex’s grin is blinding as he grabs the handle of his toolbox. “I’ll see you then.”

“Maybe I can see you before?” Nursey leans against the wall. “There’s a coffee shop a block over that has their own beehives for honey.”

“Holy shit.”

“Figured you’d like that. Are you free on Tuesday?”

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Perfect.”

When Nursey is sweeping his entryway later that day, he finds gold dust on the doorframe.

***

“Do you want to come over this weekend?” Chowder asks. “We’re doing a cookout for Memorial Day, and Farms wants you there. She says you have faerie blood, you know.”

“I’ve heard. But I can’t this weekend, I’m sorry.” Nursey rubs the back of his neck and feels his cheeks warm. “A, uh, friend of mine is coming over to help me paint my living room.”

“A friend?”

“A faerie friend.” He continues before he realizes what he’s saying. “I sucked his dick and now he comes over and helps me out with minor home repairs.”

“That happens. Glad the landlord is letting you paint your living room, though. The green is fucking ugly.”

“Hey!”

[alphacrone]

All Decked Out Like a Cowboy's Dream

[Part of the Blue-Eyed Jack ‘Verse]

CW: food mentions, homophobia mentions, being publicly out

When Jack and Bitty started publicly dating, the internet, well...the internet broke, just a little.

Though they were only known in their respective circles -- most of Bitty’s colleagues hadn’t heard of Jack and vice versa -- it was a big deal. Bitty was suddenly hailed as the “gay Carrie Underwood” and Jack had to order a moratorium on all jokes about his sexy “tractor.” They got the usual “keep your private life private” criticism from the AFA people (“Would that I could, y’all.”) and some nasty remarks from sports commentators, but it wasn’t as if either of them was coming out for the first time.

Mostly they both just had to suffer through the Blue-Eyed Jack memes. It seemed a fair price to pay for being able to date openly.

They’d only been dating a few months when Bitty approached Jack with a nervous, hopeful smile. They were in Vancouver on a short vacation together, walking hand-in-hand through the Granville Island market, pointing at the seagulls stealing food and laughing. They’d wandered down away from the market proper to a boat dock, and Jack read out the silliest boat names to Bitty in a straight-faced monotone. If he were being honest with himself, Bitty hadn’t laughed like this in a long time, even with all the time he spent with his goofy band. Jack was special, and Bitty was very, very lucky.

“So, I, uh, wanted to run something by you,” Bitty said as they fell into a comfortable silence. “You’re not busy on June 15th, are you?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. The Falcs had been knocked out of playoffs in the first round, hence the vacation -- Jack had needed to get far away and Bitty had needed to comfort his boyfriend in person. “I don’t have anything planned. Why?”

“Well, um…” Bitty scuffed his toe against the sidewalk. “That’s the night of the CMT Music Awards. I have a plus-one, was thinkin’ of reaching out to Troye Sivan to be my date, back before you. But, um...I know you don’t like public events…”

“Bits.” Jack squeezed his hand tighter and grinned. “I’d love to be your plus-one.”

“Really?” Bitty let out a deep sigh and leaned up against Jack’s arm. “That’s...I’m happy.”

“I’ve never been to Nashville outside of playing the Preds,” Jack said. “You’ll have to show me the sights.”

Bitty laughed, feeling a million times lighter. “Oh, yeah, I can show you all the crappy dives I used to play at. Oh! And the diner where I used to wash dishes. The fry cook there let me help him, sometimes, on slow nights. He even admitted my flapjacks were better than his.” Bitty sighed, swinging Jack’s arm up and around his shoulder so he could tuck himself in against his boyfriend. “As soon as I hit my break, I sent him money for his daughter’s school supplies. I sent money to every bar owner in the city who gave me a chance, too, and the blues band that found me on the streets that first week and gave me a couch to crash on. There are a lot of snakes in Nashville,” he continued, voice growing softer. “But if it hadn’t been for the good people, I don’t even know if I would’ve survived. I try to visit them all, every time I’m in town. Gotta remember your roots,” he added with a laugh. “When interviewers ask about my family, I tell ‘em that the kind folks of the world are my family, and I’m theirs.”

Jack bent down suddenly to kiss Bitty, soft and sweet. “I don’t know how someone as positive and gracious as you ever agreed to date someone like me,” he said, smile teasing. “But I’m very, very glad.”

“Well, according to TMZ, it’s for your NHL paycheck,” Bitty chirped, slipping his hand into the back pocket of Jack’s jeans. “And this fella here.” He squeezed Jack’s ass, laughing.

Jack snorted and pulled Bitty along the path, back up to the crowded market. “C’mon, I saw a cheese stand inside. I know how you are about fancy cheeses.”

“You get me,” Bitty said, fluttering his eyelashes. “Lead the way, Mr. Zimmermann.”

  Despite Bitty renting a perfectly good house with his band, Jack got himself an overpriced suite in a fancy hotel as a treat for the two of them after the awards. Bitty suddenly didn’t care if Bitty & the Biscuits won anything -- he just wanted to spend the evening drinking with his band and then retire to the giant bed with ridiculously soft pillows to spend some alone time with his favorite person.

Unfortunately, that meant his favorite person wasn’t at the house to get ready with Bitty and the rest of the band. Their rented car would swing by the hotel to pick up on the way, but while Jack got to dress and primp in peace, Bitty was running around the house with three other panicked guys plus their dates and several stylists.

Despite his threat to invite Alexei Mashkov to the awards, Ransom had settled on Lardo as his date because he thought their height difference was hilarious and would make for great red carpet photos. Dex, the giant nerd that he was, had flown his grandmother down from Maine to be his plus-one. Chowder was bringing his girlfriend, Caitlin, whose natural Cara Delevingne brows and Target-sale-rack dress put them all to shame.

Bitty himself was dressed in a snazzy sky-blue suit with the top buttons of his shirt undone. His hair was coiffed spectacularly -- “The higher the hair, the closer to God,” he’d joked with his stylist. -- and his shoes were gold and shinier than anything. Bitty looked good and he hoped Us Weekly agreed.

Somehow, they managed to get the whole band and their dates into the small, white limo on time and headed towards the hotel where Jack was waiting. Ransom and Lardo kept chirping him about “seeing the bride before the wedding” or something equally as dumb, but Bitty simply ignored them and texted Jack that they were on their way.

When they pulled up to the taxi circle in front of the hotel, Bitty literally felt his jaw drop. Because there, waiting, in the tightest jeans he’d ever seen and a pair of gosh darn cowboy boots stood his boyfriend and sexiest man alive. His ass was a national treasure when he wore tennis shoes and basketball shorts; when he wore heeled boots and well-tailored jeans? The Zimmer-booty was the eighth modern wonder of the world.

“Well, shit, Bits,” Lardo said, following his gaze. “You hit the Jack-pot.”

Ransom snorted with laughter and Bitty couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed. He wondered how rude it would be to skip the awards and drag Jack upstairs to his suite immediately.

The driver came around and opened the door for Jack, and he crawled in with a shy grin. “You look really, really great,” he told Bitty, taking in his blue suit and styled hair. “You’re gonna steal the show.”

Bitty shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think I am.”

When Jack cocked his head in confusion, Lardo clarified. “You look hot, Jack. You broke Bitty.”

“Really?” Jack looked surprised, then smug. “But it’s so early in the evening.”

The entire limo ooh-ed in dramatically scandalized tones. Even Dex’s grandmother laughed at the insinuation. Ransom elbowed Bitty in the ribs until Bitty smacked his arm hard.

“Shush,” Bitty said as the car began to drive again. “Let’s just discuss this year’s drinking game.”

“Alright,” Dex said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. “Take a shot every time someone trips or falls. Take a drink for every cowboy hat you see. Take a sip for every time Carrie Underwood changes her outfit. Oh!” Dex sighed and shoved the paper back into his jacket. “Chug your drink every time someone makes an off-color joke about us.”

“Great,” Ransom said. “We’ll be wasted within an hour.”

“None of them better say anything ugly about you boys,” Grandma Poindexter said crossly. “Else they’ll answer to me.”

“Wow, Dex,” Chowder said. “Your grandma is, like, way cooler than you.”

The boys chirped and fought the entire ride to the awards, leaving Bitty to reign in his overwhelmed little heart in relative peace.

  They didn’t win.

Bitty really hadn’t been expecting to, but it stung all the same.

Still -- he’d gotten to take drunk selfies with Kacey Musgraves and Jack had found Mike Fisher pretty quickly, two hockey boys in a sea of country stars. (Bitty could see the headlines already: Hockey Invasion?) There’d only been one tone-deaf gay joke about him, and Willie Nelson had smiled at him as he passed by his table. Dolly came over at one point to hug him tightly and make him promise to spend a day in the studio with her so they could record a duet or two. All in all, it had been a good evening.

And it was about to get better.

Bitty’s drunkenness had faded into a tired sort of buzz by the time he and Jack were dropped off at the hotel. They staggered to the room, giggly and sluggish. Bitty jumped onto the bed and kicked off his shoes, relishing the expensive squishiness of the mattress pad.

“You hungry, bud?” Jack asked, closing the door behind him. He shed his sports jacket, revealing the tight, white t-shirt underneath. Lord, he was the spitting image of the country hunk Bitty had dreamt about as a teenager. It suddenly really didn’t matter that Bitty & the Biscuits had lost -- Bitty had his award right here.

“Starving,” Bitty said, trying to sound suggestive, but the rumbling of his stomach ruined the moment.

Jack pulled out the room service menu, sitting down on the bed next to Bitty. “I could go for a burger. You wanna split a dessert?”

Bitty smiled up at Jack. “I want to make a comment about you being my dessert, but I also really want something smothered in chocolate.”

Jack laughed and pulled Bitty up until he was leaning against his chest. “Cheeseburger and fries for me. A ‘molten lava brownie deluxe’ for dessert. And…?”

“Ooh, fettuccine alfredo,” Bitty said with a happy sigh. “Yes, please.”

“It worries me how much dairy you eat,” Jack said teasingly. “And one giant bowl of cream and carbs, coming right up.”

“Just for that, you’re not getting any,” Bitty said petulantly. “Of either sort.”

Jack laughed and kissed Bitty’s head. “Will you love me again if I take you out for breakfast in the morning?”

“Maybe.” Bitty snuggled in closer, biting lightly at the underside of Jack’s jaw. “Will there be biscuits and gravy?”

“Of course,” Jack said. “To continue your diet of cream and carbs.”

“Chirp, chirp, chirp,” Bitty huffed. “It’s like you don’t want to get laid at all.”

“Bittle,” Jack said seriously, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I saw how you looked at my ass all night. I have no fears about not getting laid.”

Bitty pouted and slapped Jack’s stomach lightly. “I knew I should’ve called Troye,” he said grumpily. “Troye wouldn’t be this rude to me.”

Jack laughed. “Troye’s ass wouldn’t look this good in jeans, either.”

“Ugh, just order the food you narcissist,” Bitty said. “You know the true way to my heart is through my stomach.”

“That I do,” Jack said smugly, leaning down to kiss Bitty again before picking up the phone. “That I do.”

“Love you, Cowboy,” Bitty murmured as Jack dialed the front desk. “Love you, too,” Jack whispered. “Hello? Yes, I’d like to order room service…”

[READ PART FOUR]

[OMGCP Country Singer AU]

[My writing tag]

[My online novel, The Discourt Knife]

[petitloup]

tell me if I’m wrong (tell me if I’m right)

For Nurseydex week prompt: July 19th – gender/sexuality

“Come on, Nursey, let’s hook you up!” Holster’s voice is half-lost in the pounding bass that’s been shaking the Haus for the last two hours. “Yeah, bro, after that filthy fuckin’ shot you netted tonight, you deserve it!” Ransom has got one arm slung over Holster’s shoulder and the other over Nursey’s, and both his captains are grinning at him in a way he knows usually leads to trouble.

“We know for a fact that girl in your poetry seminar–”

“—Melissa,” Ransom supplies.

“Right, Melissa, is just waiting for you to say go.”

Nursey tries to stifle his grimace. “Melissa’s nice, but I’m not interested,” he says, sipping from his cup of tub juice. His eyes flit to Dex instead as he joins the darkened mass of people dancing and grinding together a few feet away.

“Come on, bro, you haven’t hooked up in weeks,” Ransom protests, and Nursey shoves at his head playfully. “I’m chill, if I find someone I like I’ll go for it, but I’m good where I am.”

“All right, man,” Holster says, slapping his shoulder before stepping back. “C’mon Rans, let’s go make sure Bitty hasn’t lost his shoes or some shit.”

Nursey appreciates their efforts, he does, but they’re wrong – he hasn’t hooked up in over a year.

And it’s not like Nursey doesn’t find people hot, okay, he does. He can totally acknowledge that people are hot. But that doesn’t mean he wants to hang a sock on is dorm room door. He wants to do the opposite, actually, when it comes to almost everyone. Except for Steph, at Andover. That was the first time Nursey ever really saw someone and wanted, and even then it hadn’t hit him until they were basically best friends and he was giving her a shoulder rub after practice one day.

He was admiring the set of her shoulders in her dress shirt, and her freshly washed hair smelled gently fruity and sweet, and she was working on math homework. He knew her well enough to be able to picture the tiny furrow in her brow, and the way she was probably biting at her lip. Steph was smart, and quick, and he loved that about her, and when he dug his thumb into the wing of her shoulder blade, she’d let out a low moan and Nursey froze.

“You okay?” She’d asked, tilting her head a little to try to see him, and he’d unfrozen himself enough to poke her gently back into place as he answered, “totally chill,” and continued pressing his fingers into her soft, warm skin.

After a few months of freaking out and trying to elbow his way through his feelings until they made sense, he and Steph started dating, and Nursey finally got what the big deal was with sex. It was a good enough experience that he felt comfortable giving hookups the old college try after he and Steph broke up, but it didn’t change the fact that Nursey just wasn’t that interested. The hookups were fine, sex was kind of nice, but it was never like with Steph again.

So he stopped bothering. He kissed girls, and he kissed boys, and he liked the feeling of being close to someone, but he never took it further. Some days, some kegsters, when he’s feeling less sure of his sex drive – or lack of it, really – Nursey will lean up against a wall and just look, watching out for someone who might spark him the way Steph did. It never happens, and after a while Nursey goes back to not worrying about it so much. Things always looked better during the daytime anyways.

“Looking for someone?” Dex asks as he pulls himself from the dance floor and pulls Nursey out of his own head, looking loose-limbed. He’s smiling at Nursey the same way he does when their chemistry is off the charts during a good game, warm and relaxed. “Nah, just looking,” Nursey says, nudging Dex with his shoulder.

Every hour or so Dex will usually come check on him, even if he’s not on Nursey Patrol, ever since that one time Dex found him pressed against the wall in the reading room panting for air like he’d just run a marathon, head spinning from the overwhelming press of people. The look on Dex’s face had flickered from concern to understanding, and he’d pressed one of Nursey’s hands to his chest and counted to ten and back, slowly, until Nursey had regained equilibrium. They didn’t talk about it after, Dex had never forced the issue, but from then on he stuck around in Nursey’s view, an open hand Nursey could reach for if he needed an out. The thought makes something warm flare up in Nursey’s chest.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me,” Dex says, turning and disappearing back into the crowd. Sure, Nursey knows exactly where Dex will be. Dancing with some girl, probably, flushed pink, hair mussed and sticking slightly to his temples, eyes dark. But more importantly, willing to walk away at a moment’s notice if Nursey needed him.

So Nursey settles into enjoying himself, teaming up with Lardo for pong, dancing with Bits to partition, and always keeping Dex in view. After a little too much tub juice, Nursey’s head is spinning vaguely, and he’s snickering into his cup when Dex finds him again.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Dex says, clearly amused. “I saw you giving Bitty a run for his money dancing on that table.”

“I’m a good dancer,” Nursey declares, stepping closer, “and no one can tell me otherwise.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, man,” Dex laughs, and he looks flushed under the Christmas lights that are hung up along the hallway. It’s pretty, Nursey decides, and he says so. Dex goes even more red, and Drunk Derek knows it’s a cliché, but he really does wonder just how far down Dex blushes. And then he blinks in surprise.  

“I’m ready to crash,” Dex says after a moment of weighted quiet between them. “Wanna walk back with me?”

“Mm, yeah,” Nursey pats his pockets to make sure he still has his keys and phone. His lanyard is still sticking out of his pocket, so he gives Dex a thumbs up and follows him out the door.

The night air is cool, and Nursey zips up his hoodie as they walk quietly towards the dorms. It’s peaceful, and comfortable, and Nursey hasn’t felt this safe and at ease with someone since –

Since –

Oh fuck.

“You okay, man?” Dex’s voice cuts through his momentary panic. “Your face is doing something weird.”

“Uh. Yeah.” Nursey’s mouth has stopped working, because this was not what he meant when he thought about wanting someone again. He didn’t mean his d-man, his best friend, but oh, oh, that –

“Hey,” Dex says, putting a hand on Nursey’s arm and pulling him to a stop. Nursey watches him a little blankly as Dex rubs his hand up and down the sleeve of his hoodie. “Seriously, you okay? You need to stop for a sec?”

Nursey is having a hard time swallowing past this feeling in his chest, because it isn’t a surprise, not really, but somehow – somehow he didn’t even realize, not like this, and Dex’s eyes are flickering between his own, looking for signs of panic, not pitying or judging but just caring, just wanting to be there, and oh fuck.

“I’m good, Dex, I just. Had a moment.” It sounds a little weak, even to himself, but Dex just gives him a small smile, encouraging. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m good.” Without thinking, he puts his hand over Dex’s, and watches in faint surprise as Dex blushes again, highlighting his freckles in the light of the nearest lamppost. “I just… realized something.” He says, watching carefully, and Dex looks back, his gaze searching and intense.

“What did you realize?”

“I’m still working on it,” he admits, tightening his fingers around Dex’s. Dex lips quirk into a little smile.

“Take your time,” he says, “there’s no rush.”

And maybe he only just noticed this tonight, but Nursey is fairly certain that this has been a long time coming. And he’s fairly certain that Dex will be waiting, like he always is, in the corner of his eye – whenever Nursey decides to reach for him.

[whiskeytangofrogman]

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” Nurseydex b/c I know you love them.

Here’s something I should have answered uhhhhhh months ago. Sorry, lol. 

NurseyDex, 1.9k. Unbeta’d and barely read over, so sorry bout that lol. Technically fills @nurseydexweek Day 2! More under cut.

“And that’s the last bit of your integral chart. Don’t forget, quiz on Monday, test on Wednesday!” Before his professor could even finish reminding them about the upcoming assessments, Dex had packed up his stuff and bolted for the door. He had approximately three hours before his Python midterm, and six hours of studying to do.

And then, of course, right as he reached the front door of Founder’s, some guy coming out slammed into him, spilling hot coffee down his front. The guy huffed, and dropped his cup in the trash can. “Watch where you’re going, dude.”

Dex cursed, pulling his shirt away from his body. He wanted to cuss the guy out, do something, but he was already walking away by the time Dex got up the courage to tell him to go fuck himself.

Dex did a quick mental calculation. If he was back home in five minutes he could change, and grab a snack, and still meet his last-minute study group just a few minutes late.

“Yeah, fuck it,” he said, and picked up his speed in the direction of the Haus. Campus was busy this week, he noted, as he pushed through throngs of people. Midterm week tended to gather all the people that had skipped class until this point to campus, like showing up to the review session and cramming would do any help for memorizing half a semester’s worth of material.

Dex, ever the diligent student (and for good reason, if he wanted to keep his scholarship), hated this, and hated how the library and the dining halls and the fucking sidewalks were all crammed for a week, and then empty the next.

He made it to the Haus in just over five minutes, and bolted to he and Nursey’s shared room. He tossed his backpack on his bed, and began digging through his clothing. Except… he’d been a little too busy this week studying to think about laundry (or fixing the dryer), and all he had were shirts that smelled like stale sweat, or beer. Or both. He looked around, desperate, and his eyes settled on a shirt tossed carelessly in the bottom of the closet.

It was Nursey’s, and smelled like expensive aftershave and, inexplicably, like fall but it would have to do. Dex was already running late. Besides, Nursey wouldn’t even notice, too caught up in his own midterms, Dex rationalised to himself. He’d do laundry tonight after his midterm.

He grabbed a muffin from a stressed Bitty on his way out, and waved to Chowder as he passed him and Caitlin on the sidewalk. Chowder, unlike Dex, had taken Python freshman year, so despite them being in the same major, they didn’t have all the same classes.

He slid into the library study room 3A ten minutes after his group had agreed to meet. They were there, but packing up. He frowned.

“What’s going on?”

Jason, cocky bastard that he was, rolled his eyes. “Well, we all got here early, William.” He picked at his manicured nails, and swung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “So we’re done studying. Didn’t you get the texts?”

Will pulled out his phone, and saw a string of texts he’d received in the middle of his last class about rescheduling earlier. He cursed under his breath. “Alright.”

Jason smirked, and patted him on the shoulder as he walked out. “Good luck on the test.” Everyone else murmured their agreement as they pushed by him and back into the main section of the library, leaving him alone with his panic, and no idea how to do some of the things he should have known by now.

He collapsed downwards into a seat, and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. There was bile building in his throat, and for a second he considered dropping the class and trying again next semester.

He wasn’t a great programmer, so much as a passable one with a lot of work. He wasn’t Chowder, who seemed to know a computer like the inside of his own mind, or Jason, who Dex spitefully believed must be paying for his good grades.

He took a deep breath, pulled out his laptop, and began studying, but not before setting a timer on his phone to pull him out in time to run across campus for the test itself. He’d been known on more than one occasion to get so lost in what he was doing he forgot to meet the team somewhere, or go get a meal before he was done.

He couldn’t afford to tank his grade, not now.

He got to work, drowning out the soft sounds of chatter in the background to try and understand seven weeks worth of material in time to regurgitate it well enough for a C. It would have to do.

Dex’s eyes were burning, from lack of sleep, and from concentrating too hard for too long. After studying for a few hours, he went straight to his test, and took all the time he could. He was one of the last people in the room, still scribbling away at a recursion problem, when his professor called time.

“Is there a curve?” He heard another student ask, and heard a negative in response.

“Fuck,” he whispered, setting his test on the stack and walking out of the room. He was so fucked, and all because he didn’t look at his phone, and because he was busy with hockey and extra practices between him and Nursey, and all the other shit in his life.

He walked to the Haus feeling like the whole world took rest on his shoulders.

He brushed off Bitty’s call of hello, and trudged up to his room, tossing his bag on his bed and himself after.

Nursey was at their shared desk, leaning back in the chair and tapping a pencil against his lips. Dex could hear the small sounds of classical music from Nursey’s earbuds, and his eyes were closed.

He was writing poetry, then, if Dex knew him at all.

He laid on his side, and scrolled through Twitter, waiting for either the urge to get up and do something else other than wallow, or for Nursey to open his eyes and notice him.

Nursey happened first. “Hey.” Nursey pulled an earbud out, and cocked an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Bombed my midterm,” Dex mumbled, not making eye contact.

“Ah, shit.” Nursey tossed something his way. Dex lifted his phone just enough to grab it. It was a fun size Hershey’s bar, Nursey’s snack of choice when it came to expending his creative juices. He shrugged when Dex shot him a confused look. “Makes me feel better, sometimes.”

Dex from a year ago would have found some way to be mad, probably said something about how a Hershey’s bar wasn’t going to make his grade go up. Dex now, though, knew Nursey was trying to give him space. Sharing a room made Dex more in-tune to what Nursey’s previously more confusing habits meant.

Dex now, though, saw the small chocolate bar for what it was, and smiled at Nursey. It didn’t make him feel better, but Nursey not trying to convince him it would be alright, or that it was just a test, instead giving Dex the room to be upset, was what did. “Thanks.” Nursey nodded, and turned back to his notebook as Dex unwrapped the bar and sat up.

“You know, I might have done better if Chelsea wasn’t dating Jason, and I didn’t have to study with him.” Dex said a few moments later, letting the chocolate melt on his tongue in small portions. “He rescheduled, and I’m pretty sure it was to fuck me over.”

Nursey turned back to him, shutting the notebook with a decisive click. “Fuck that guy.” Nursey tossed him another candy, this time a Snickers, and propped his feet up on Dex’s bed. “I hope he bombs the test.”

Dex snickered. “I can only dream.” Dex popped the Snickers into his mouth whole, and chewed as he talked. “He’s mad that I did better than him in Calc two, and jealous his girlfriend would rather hang out with me than him, but I’m not a raging douche, so it makes sense.”

Nursey grinned. “Of course she would. Chelsea’s got a good head on her, just not when it comes to dating.” He opened his mouth to say something else, and then paused, and looked at Dex with obvious confusion.

Dex looked down at himself, and then back at Nursey. “Do I have something on me?”

“Is that my shirt?”

Dex flushed, embarrassed. He’d forgotten he borrowed it earlier, and had meant to take it off before Nursey saw. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t have any clean ones earlier and I was running late-”

Nursey cut him off. “No, like… It’s just,” Nursey’s eyes were wide, and a little unfocused as he stared at Dex. “I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

Dex folded his arms across his chest defensively, as if covering his chest could get rid of the look on Nursey’s face, and shrugged. “Sorry.”

“I like it.” Nursey blurted out, sounding choked. “I-”

Dex hopped up, completely red and feeling like a cocoon of butterflies had opened in his chest just then. “Don’t say anything else.” He turned his back towards Nursey and took off the shirt, tossing it in his basket, and pulling on a ratty, grease stained tank he used for fixing his truck. “I’m doing laundry.”

Nursey nodded, looking panicked, and turned back to his desk.

When Dex came back, his shoulders were hunched in a tight line, and loud pop music was blaring from his headphones.

Dex sighed. “Nursey.” He walked closer when Nursey didn’t respond. “Nurse. Derek.”

Nursey jumped and yanked out his earbuds. “What?” He looked panicked. “Look, I-”

Dex frowned. “Don’t say I’m sorry.”

Nursey licked his lips, and swallowed hard. “Okay.”

Dex pulled up their extra chair, and sat next to him. Nursey paused his music as he turned to face Dex, and the room was silent. The only sounds from the Haus were coming from the kitchen, a mixture of clanking dishes, quiet voices, and soft music. “How long?” Dex’s voice broke the silence, but amplified the tension.

Nursey didn’t beat around the bush. “Last semester. I can live somewhere else-”

Dex snorted. “No. Me too. Stop worrying.”

Nursey huffed. “Kinda hard not to worry when you live with the person you… you,”

“Want to bang?” Dex grinned. Nursey knocked his knee into Dex’s with a glare.

“No. Maybe. Not right now.”

Dex’s grin grew wide. “Course not. The washing machine is done in ten minutes.”

Nursey buried his face in his hands. “You’re the worst,” he groaned, but Dex could see the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

Dex looked at the paper on Nursey’s pile, eyes caught on a large date in chunky black letters. “You have a test tomorrow?”

Nursey nodded, pulling his hands away from his face. “Yeah. I’ve given up on it.”

Dex picked up the paper, and frowned. “I can help?” He set it back down. “And the maybe after we can go get dinner, and talk?”

Nursey met Dex’s eyes, and smiled. “I’d like that.”

Dex stood, but left the chair. “Lemme switch my laundry, and then we can study.”

Nursey nodded, and Dex felt his eyes follow him from the room as he left.

And, when he came back, if he and Nursey sat a little closer than normal, and if he forgot to give Nursey back his shirt that night, well. No one had to know.

Send me some prompts!

[vicioushyperbolizer]

Im love that last nurseydex fic w ace Dex and was wondering if maybe i could prompt smth where they talk about Dex's intrusive thoughts and he maybe gets help for them (if he has anxiety or anything say) and Nursey being supportive and Dex tryna thank him by being romantic? No pressure to write though!

Okay, for the record, obviously you don’t have to be sex averse to be ace. In my head, Dex isn’t. it’s a conversation he and Nursey will have at a later date. Cut for length and not content

“Jesus, Poindexter, how long are you gonna be in there? I though-”

Nursey’s voice trailed off as he pushed his way into their shared bathroom. The second Dex heard the door squeak open, he grabbed for the first thing he could reach to cover himself, which ended up being the dirty shirt he took off before his shower.

Dex knew how it looked, he fucking knew. Naked and still dripping, alone in the bathroom, flushed in embarrassment, ashamed and hiding. It looked like…

“Were you masturbating?” Nursey looked horrified, but Dex couldn’t really tell if it was because he spoke without thinking or because of the way his voice cracked in the middle.

That. It looked like fucking that.

Dex tightened his grip on the shirt in front of his junk. “No! No, i wasn’t fucking… masturbating.”

“It’s chill if you were,” Nursey hastened. “We never really talked about, y’know… that. And if you do, that’s fine. Good even! I’m not really one to talk, because I do it a lot. Regularly, even.”

Nursey was rambling. Which was just fucking weird for Dex to hear. He had never seen his boyfriend so awkward and… nervous. It made something nasty twist inside Dex. He had caused that; it was his fault.

“Nursey. Please stop talking. I wasn’t, okay.”

Dex could tell Nursey didn’t believe him. He sighed and scrubbed his free hand down his face, wiping away stray water droplets that had rolled down from his hair. He didn’t really want to talk about it, but he would do a lot of things for Nursey that he didn’t want to do. Hell, he would probably chop off his own fucking leg if Nursey asked.

“Look, you know how I’ve been going to that study group early Thursday mornings? Well, I’ve actually been… going to the counselling center, okay? And the counsellor person thought that I should do this stupid self love affirmation crap. Look in a mirror and tell myself nice shit. That’s what i was doing, okay?”

Nursey’s face flashed from confused to hurt before it finally settled on neutral. Somehow, the neutral almost hurt worse than anything else. It had been months since Nursey defaulted to that stupid fake chill bullshit with him.

“That’s cool, Will. It’s really awesome that you’re going to the counselling center.” His voice was just as blank as his face.

Dex wanted to explain that he hadn’t told Nursey because he didn’t want to get his boyfriend’s hopes up that htis was something he was going to stick to. He made the first appointment without any plans of actually going, and the same for the second, and the third. By the time it was a regualr thing, he didn’t have an explaination as to why he hid it from Nursey in the first place.

He wanted to explain that he was doing this for Nursey, that he understood his anger and emotions were getting in between them. For maybe the first time ever, Dex would rather change himself than lose someone else, and he wanted Nursey to know just how important that made him.

He desperately wanted to explain that he loved Nursey so much it scared him, and that he would do anything in his power to never be the reason that Nursey was wearing that fake chill face and that tension in his shoulders. Even embarrassing shit that made him feel stupid.

With a sigh, he reached out and grabbed Nursey’s hand. “Why don’t you stay and watch?”

Nursey thought about it for a minute, the longest goddamn minute of Dex’s life. In the end, though, he nodded and sat down on the closed toilet lid.

Dex grabbed the sheet of paper that had fluttered to the floor in the earlier chaos of trying to cover himself. He waved it a little, so that Nursey could see the chicken scratch scribbled on the front.

“Any time I have an intrusive thought or, y’know, think negative things about myself, I write it down. And then I come in here and tell myself the truth, or the opposite or whatever. Every few days, or if it gets too long.”

Nursey nodded. “And the naked thing?”

“I kept getting distracted,” he mumbled. After a second, he corrected himself. “I kept letting myself get distracted. Looking at my shirt instead of actually looking at me, y’know.”

Nursey nodded again, but didn’t say anything. Dex took it as a sign to continue, so he did. Taking a deep breath he turned back to face the mirror and placed the paper back against the sink so he could read it. He glanced back at his boyfriend once before dropping the shirt.

Dex remembered the first thing on the list. He remembered exactly where he was when he had the thought, down to the smell of the nasty perfume someone in his class was wearing and the place in his notes where he had to stop himself from getting up right then and there so that he could punch something. Or maybe cry.

“I am not ruining Nursey’s life by trapping him in a relationship he doesn’t want.”

He barely paused before the next one, because they were practically the same thought. “We are not my parents.”

For his entire childhood, he knew that was how his parents’ relationship worked. His mom didn’t want to be with his father, but felt guilty about leaving. She was trapped there but circumstance, and Dex told himself every night for years that he would never be as unnoticing or uncaring as his father was.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he got it in his head that he was doing exactly that to Nursey, but it was days before he could get it out. Because it really felt like that sometimes. Did Nursey really want to be with him, or did he just feel bad about leaving Dex, pity about his poor, fucked up asexual boyfriend. But no, Nursey loved him. He did.

“I am not defective or broken.”

That one Dex found harder to believe. Most of his sessions revolved around his asexuality, and reaffirming that it wasn’t a disorder or dysfunction. It wasn’t some phase, and it wasn’t a hindrance. It was just a part of Dex, like his red hair and his big ears. It was just another thing that Nursey fell in love with. In theory… in pracrice, it was really fucking hard to believe that.

“I deserve to have a healthy relationship even if I’m not healthy.”

That one his counselor helped him word after a particularly rough fight with Nursey. Dex tried to break up with him because it felt unfair that Nursey was stuck with such a fucking shitshow. He was pretty sure that Nursey was thinking of exactly that incident, because he took a deep breath, but didn’t say anything.

Dex paused before the next one. He glanced back at his boyfriend again. He had forgotten all about this one, written in the middle of the night after a bad nightmare. It wasn’t something he had ever brought up before, or even voiced to his counselor. Dex focused back on the mirror, looking himself in the eyes.

“I am good for more than my use. I am not a utilitarian thing. I am a unique person, I have a personality, and people like having me around for that and not the things i can provide them.”

On his bad days, on those days when he felt like he was only going through the motions, it was hard to remember that the team were friends and that they wanted him around. That he wasn’t just there to fix the Haus, or to explain things to Tango, or to carry an extra sweater for Nursey. He was worthwhile independent from his usefulness.

He already knew what the last one was. It was the same every time, because it was the one thing he wanted to believe more than anything else.

“I can be the person Nursey is proud to be dating. I can be good for him. I can love myself for him.”

Dex stayed focused on the mirror, repeating it in his head over and over. He noticed the flash of movement, but didn’t realize what it was until Nursey wrapped his arms around Dex from behind. He pressed small kisses on Dex’s shoulders, where he knew there was a particularly dense cluster of freckles, up his neck until he could feel lips pressed against his ear.

“I love you, babe. And I am so proud.”

Dex felt the flush rise to his cheeks again. Somehow, it was different with Nursey there next to him. It was a little easier to believe the things he was telling himself and a little harder to come up with arguments in his head why these things weren’t true.

He wrapped his arms around Nursey’s, hugging him as close as he could. The amount of love he felt was beyond words.

“So, do you masturbate, though?”

[likeshipsonthesea]

63 and 86 for nurseydex?

from the mix-and-match au prompts, 63. Everybody Knows/Mistaken For Couple and 86. I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On

mm spicy someone’s trying to get my post banned from the tag listings on tumblr

here we go: the scene would start with a bracing line, probably something like;

“Why don’t you just fuck him already?”

who says this line? i was thinking chowder, but it’s probably ford or maybe even Louis for some Spice

he says it to nursey, who Did Not Ask For This and was just quietly sipping some box wine (he has expensive taste but the wine is better than the beer ollie and wicks bought) leaning against the wall of the haus living room, watching the dance floor bc he’s tired from morning skate (he was late, got into a fun debate with dex about the minimum wage, so bitty made them run suicides. nursey isn’t bitter–they are very close to playoffs and have a very good chance to win, and they can’t afford to slack off)

but even though dex had to skate the same suicides (with an extra lap for “that sassy look you gave me, William”) he’s still out on the dance floor with farmer (the only person who can get dex to dance) just, fucking, looking like That

(That is the fact that dex is wearing the too-tight old t-shirt he’s had since high school that advertises some kind of county fair that was themed around crustaceans, so his arms are BULGING the hem keeps lifting up and showing off the freckles on his lower back, and it’s so hot in the haus with all the people and the rising temp outside that dex is wearing the only shorts he had on-hand without digging around in his summer stuff–basketball shorts he wear for workouts, that cling to his ASSets and shift with each movement, dragging them higher and higher up his thighs)

so, like, obviously nursey does want to fuck dex in this moment but ford-and-or-louis (let’s go with louis, it’s fun) isn’t supposed to know that so nursey splutters his red boxed wine like “whatever do you mean? me fuck dex what is this ridiculousness??? me?? fuck? dex???? you trippin’ bro”

louis blinks. if it were ford she would Not Be Amused but Louis, little baby waffle louis who doesn’t understand why his mentor nursey never wants to be around him, is just, like, so confused.

“So you two are dating but not fucking?” Louis is so dumb my sweet little chaotic swede, so stupid, i love him (and guess what he goes on to be a fucking doctor, so chew on that (veterinarian but whatever)(also was not planning on flushing out louis’ character so much in this but here we are)

this is when Nursey chokes on his red wine.

“Dating?!?!!!?”

see, louis, along with a majority of the waffle class and a few of the taddies, are under the impression that nursey and dex are a passionate (at times explosive) couple that got together sometime after dex left their room.

what is the assumption? well, it depends on who you ask. hops thinks that it took them losing each other to see how much they really care and that one night nursey went down with dex to the basement and they had a long conversation about what they are to each other and how they can navigate their differences so they can be together and happy. hops is taking a class focusing on the great loves of romantic literature, so he might have went  a lil crazy

bully thinks that dex exploded one day and got too honest and it forced him to actually explain how he was feeling and then nursey explained how he was feeling and then they kissed and have since been going on tentative dates around campus (like, if bully cared, he means. he’s just, like, seen them around a lot and, like, they were talking and smiling and nursey was gesturing with his hands a lot and dex looked, like, super chill with it, so like. yeah.)

louis? louis thought that they probably started hate-fucking and feelings happened and yeah, maybe he thinks a bit too much about his teammates’ relationship but whatever. he’s confident in his sexuality and being as a person. it totally has no affect on all the grind-worthy music he plays at kegster, he’s not subtly wheeling from the background, he’s not the reason why they’re in this situation at all, stop interrogating him he’s just an innocent baby swede!!!

“oh.” nursey blinks. “that’s um. okay. um. that’s– well.”

nursey, the sweetie, is a bit broken. because look the waffles aren’t necessarily wrong. he and dex have gotten a lot–better, for a lack of another word. the move out was really dramatic, and after a month of distance nursey could see that he did a lot of bs along with dex’s stuff, and they talked it out

(dex actually brought it up, which nursey thinks was really, like, chill of him. dex explained that he’d been feeling a lot of anxiety about it, which seg-wayed into nursey talking about his anxiety that was exacerbated by sharing a room with someone, and dex didn’t explicitly say it but mentioned that things with his family have been a bit tense since jack and bitty came out and everything, and they both resolved that this was probably the worst time for either of them to move in together, but they were getting better before all of this, so maybe living apart isn’t the end to their friendship but the beginning and like, nursey was really excited about that)

but the friendship–the sitting together on roadies and playing weird games of i-spy, and the late night study sessions at the library bc their respective jitteryness and silent panicking counteract each other, and all of their kind-spirited debates (backed up by research and articles and personal explanations, both of them open minded about it, listening) it’s all been really really good.

and yes, nursey has thought dex was a certified snacc for years now, and he’s p sure that dex thinks he’s hot too but they’re just getting good at the friend thing and nursey doesn’t want to ruin it by pushing it too hard

all this he explains, stuttering and paraphrasing, too a quickly disillusioned Louis, who stares down at nursey with these giant sad eyes, so nursey sends him away quickly after and resumes his post against the wall, sullenly drinking his wine.

but here’s the thing–now that the thought has arrived, nursey can’t stop thinking about what it would be like if he went over to dex and did something about it. if he put his hands to the intermittently revealed waist, if he leaned down to put his mouth against the slightly stubbly spot on dex’s chin, if he let himself hold on tight and move in close and ask dex, “you wanna come upstairs with me?”

Nursey, per his character, spends the next half hour stressing and debating over what he should do, and in this time dex tires and leaves the dance floor. he approaches nursey with an oblivious smile and a sweating (like dex) bottle of water.

“hey,” he says. “what’s up?”

“we should fuck.”

it is dex’s turn to choke.

“what”

“fuck, sorry, i didn’t–fuck. come here.” and nursey grabs dex’s wrist and pulls him up the stairs and they enter The Room and close the door behind them.

and nursey explains what just happened with louis and the realization and the fact that all the waffles think they’re dating, and dex gets steadily redder (not from the dancing) and then when nursey finishes explaining (because they Talk now, they Communicate, and nursey is Very Good at rambling) dex takes a few moments to compute.

“so me… dancing… turned you on?”

nursey nods, reluctantly yet also emphatically. it hurts his head.

“i didn’t mean to do that.” dex sounds like he’s apologizing. nursey may love him. fuck this is going SO FAST.

“it’s okay,” nursey says, and is about to go on another ramble about how dex doesn’t have to reciprocate anything, he just wanted to explain where he’s coming from, because the Communicate now and he wants to be a good friend and–

and dex stops him. “we can.” nursey squints, confused, and dex coughs, pinking up again. “fuck, i mean.” nursey’s eyes widen. “i mean, not tonight!” dex hurries to clarify, shaking his head and water bottle frantically (which, unfortunately, spills water all over his hand) “i just– i think we can try. we’re– better, now.”

nursey is, justifiably, speechless, and attempting to wrap his head around the fact that he lives in a world where William Poindexter, asshole and kind hearted and total fucking wonder, wants to fuck him (and, like, romance shit, but the Fucking)

“i think,” dex says, and he’s wearing the expression he always wears before he responds to one of nursey’s better points with his own, well-crafted and thoughtful opinions, “that we should wait until after the playoffs. so we don’t affect anything on the team. but after.” dex smiles, small but full. “after.”

nursey returns the smile. an after sounds pretty good.

there are more kegsters between that night and when they become NCAA champions standing right behind bitty’s ot goal winner (it’s my fic i can make it as Dramatique™ as I want) and dex dances at a lot of those too, but when nursey watches him dance, either from across the room or standing next to him, he watches with the knowledge that someday–someday soon– they won’t go home to their separate rooms at the end of the song.

(unseen: the scene where louis explains to the other waffles that no nurse and poindexter aren’t actually dating. hops is heartbroken, bully doesn’t care (really, he doesn’t, he’s just up thinking about it because, like, circadian rhythm or whatever) and louis ruins the whole thing by asking, “so do you think it’s gay to thinking about your teammates fucking?” which promptly makes hops and bully walk away)

[1358456]

... Huh

So... A thought occurs. It seems to me that... the things I have happen to Dex Holders in my stories... also happen to me. Not all of them, of course, but... quite a few. Too many for comfort, really. Obviously non lethal ones, of course. I haven't been Flood infected as far as I'm aware, and I haven't been stabbed... er... completely impaled and resurrected as a half-skeleton. Stabbed, yes (once), but not dead yet. Impaled... eh, technically, I guess? I mean, I had sharp things stab into a part of me and go completely through. Such as... ear piercing for earrings. And one case of a splinter that pierced a finger. Technical "impaling", I suppose.

Anyways, there are a few that come to mind immediately. There are most likely more, but they require me to re-read all of my stuff, and... that'll take a LONG while.

Starting off with a minor one... Back when Destiny started, I had Blue feeling really unwanted, depressed all the time, and borderline rampancy. And a few months afterwards, I had the same "phase" in which I felt completely unwanted and I just felt like crap all day every day. Unwanted feelings, severe depression

In SA, Platinum attempts to kill herself, and in SL, White tries as well. And... in a bit of a twist, shortly after the above, someone did commit suicide... and landed just a few meters in front of me. And I later found out, she died. So, I saw someone die. ... I suppose in SA, Platinum saw Pearl fall to his death. So... yeah. Suicide/death by falling (witness)

In SR/SL, Crystal was held at knifepoint and was almost raped. Around September of 2015, I... well... the first sexual assault/attempted rape happened. I fought back, and... found out the hard way that the guy had a knife that he had used to cut my shirt open. Then I got stabbed and passed out shortly after. No Dex Holder got stabbed as far as I'm aware (not with a small knife, at least), so... that's like an extra for me that's not a good thing. Attempted rape

In SE, at one point, Blue got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time and got mauled by a pack of Tauros that resulted in her almost dying and being confined to a wheelchair. Around July of 2016, there was an... attempted mugging in an alley that failed (I had no money), which then resulted in the second sexual assault. I fought back again, and... things didn't go well at all, since there was one of me and... four of them. As it turns out, if you punch a guy in the throat for tearing your shirt, him and his buddies get pissed. Lots of bones broke (not all of them were mine at least), and I was confined to a wheelchair for a long while. Mauling that resulted in lots of broken bones, confined to wheelchair

In SY, Platinum was stripped down to her undergarments at one point. Yep. Happened twice now. If a third attempt is made... someone is going to die. Stripped

And for the most significant, most recent occurrence... As of the beginning of the short stories on this Tumblr (before Cycle), Gold now has an unwanted, uninvited house guest permanently living in his house without his consent. Yep. F*cking hell. That happened. And that pisses me off more than everything else put together. And in Legacy, Gold points out that his fridge has seen an 85% drop in food storage. ... Seeing how my freezer is f*cking empty now... yeah. ... Housemate

As of Legacy, Red also has a housemate, but at least he was the one who offered Blue the chance to live with him in the first place. And Blue is doing everything she can to "earn" her place, pretty much. ... Not the case for me, unfortunately. And for Red and Blue, it's super cute and sweet and all, but for me... ... haaaa...

... Have I ever had a Dex Holder almost freeze to death? Because that almost happened twice. ... Well, one serious and one... possible one. Trapped in a forest with a creek at -30C? Yep. Almost froze to death, since I fell into that creek almost immediately. And at one point, I was skating in the frozen Rideau Canal in Ottawa during the Grade 8 trip, and... there was a freaking ice fishing hole that I couldn't see because it was night time. Fortunately the hole wasn't that big, and because it was pretty freaking cold, the ice was really strong so didn't break at all, so that was more like "aww, my whole left leg got drenched!" instead of "I fell through the ice in a river at night time"

Anyways. So... does that mean... if I have a Dex Holder hit by a car and live... is that going to happen to me? ... Wait a minute, Black and White were hit by a car in SA and lived... uh oh. Heh. Ooh... spooky superstition! ... Meh. If it happens, it happens.