#nurseydex ficlet

[cricketnationrise]

Hey! For the ficlet request, could I have Dex and Nursey, in the Nursery, at 3:23am?

My ao3 is glitterandspacebuns 💖 congrats on 500!!

i have emerged at long last from an overwhelming amount of hours at work more determined than ever to bash out the last of these prompts that i've had since January. on with the ficlet prompt fill!

read the rest of the ficlets here

🏒🏒🏒🏒

3:23am, the nursery

Later, Derek isn’t sure if it’s the slight movement of the mattress or the small draft of cooler air that wakes him. All he knows is one moment he’s firmly asleep, and in the next he’s blinking sleep out of his eyes as he hears soft footfalls moving down the hall. He’s not sure what time it is, but it feels like the middle of the night—there’s a certain quality, a depth of the darkness outside the windows, that suggests all non-nocturnal creatures should be sleeping. He’s on his way back to dreamland when he catches some noises from beyond the bedroom.

A click of a door handle, a tiny hinge squeak, a bit of rain from a white noise machine, and the happy, nonsense babbling of his daughter greeting his husband—utterly unconcerned with the late hour. Derek swings himself out of bed and traces Will’s path down the hall to the nursery. The sight that greets him isn’t new by any stretch, but it still makes him feel like a swooning romantic heroine out on the moors.

Will is leaning over the crib, bare back outlined by the light of the moon, elbows propped on the railing as he lets Elena use his dangling fingers to pull herself upright. Their foreheads come together a touch violently from their daughter’s enthusiasm, but Will gives no indication that her headbut hurt him, merely extricating one hand to smooth over her face as he shifts to kiss her forehead. Elena seems unhurt as well, as her delighted ramble hasn’t so much as stuttered, let alone ceased or given way to tears. Derek leans against the doorframe and just watches the pair of them, fondness and love swelling and swirling beneath his skin.

His husband is the very picture of focused listening, nodding seriously as Elena chatters and responding with thoughtful murmuring when she takes a breath. Elena doesn’t have an extensive vocabulary yet, but Will always answers her as though she’s made perfect sense. Derek does too, but Will has this effortless knack of making whoever he’s talking to feel important and heard that Derek has always had to work at to achieve. It’s clear their daughter has realized how content Will’s focus can make one feel.

Derek is sure that Will knows he’s there, but he keeps his attention on Elena, and Derek lets him. He hasn’t been home for almost a week—stupid Canadian road trips that Derek doesn’t miss at all are stupid—and he missed her bedtime tonight. Honestly, Derek is surprised he didn’t just camp out in Elena’s room after he got home. There was many a night right after they brought her home from the hospital that Derek would come back from brushing his teeth to an empty room, only to find his husband sat on the floor with his back against the crib, head turned uncomfortably so he could watch her breathing through the rails. Will loves hockey—wants to keep playing as long as he can—but Derek knows how much Will misses them both when he has to travel.

Elena is yawning between each incomprehensible phrase now, and Will gently eases her down to the mattress again. Derek holds in a chuckle as Will makes to pull his hand away only for Elena to reach out and grip his finger firmly in her fist—unwilling to let Will move any further away. Derek can certainly relate. Will pets her already wild curls steadily, coaxing her to sleep with a soothing, hummed rendition of I’ll Stand By You. It’s truly as though he wants Derek to expire from the cuteness. 

Eventually Elena’s breathing evens out, and her grip slackens enough that Will can slip free. He walks backwards away from the crib until he’s leaning against Derek’s chest, eyes still on their daughter. Derek curls his arms around Will’s waist and rests his chin on his shoulder.

“I thought you’d be out till breakfast after such a long roadie,” Derek whispers.

“Me too,” Will sighs, letting Derek support more of his weight. “But my brain wouldn’t settle until I’d seen her.”

Derek drops a kiss to Will’s shoulder. “And now that you have? Come back to bed?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Derek squeezes him tight once and then lets go, only to tangle their fingers together as he leads them back down the hall to their bedroom. They climb into bed and Derek ends up in his favorite spot, sprawled across Will’s chest, his head nestled in the crook of Will’s neck. Will’s free arm comes up and slings across Derek’s waist, keeping him close and Derek hums contentedly.

“G’night,” Derek says, “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Neither of them so much as twitches until morning.

[elisela]

@missanniewhimsy reblogged something about one of my most favorite tropes and this popped into my head so. more nurseydex because apparently i’m weak.

.

“Did I ever tell you,” Will says, even though he knows he didn’t and that he’s also failed to give any context to the conversation, “that I woke up that morning and thought you snuck out?”

The adorable, confused look that overtakes his boyfriend’s face shows that he has absolutely no clue what Will is talking about. “Can’t say you ever did,” is all he says though. “What about this relationship makes you think I’m suddenly going to start sneaking out?”

“Not now,” Will says. He sets down the glass of wine Derek had poured—too bitter, a gift from Chowder because they’re grown-ups now and apparently beer isn’t an acceptable gift. Will disagrees. “After our first date. I thought you left.”

Derek blinks. His wine glass—also still full—makes a soft clink against their table when he sets it down. “Why would I have snuck out?” he says. His tone is odd, like he can’t figure out if he should be amused or offended and is hovering somewhere in-between.

Will shrugs. A year removed it’s difficult to get himself back in the panicked mindset that he’d worked himself up to after waking up alone, and it seems almost ridiculous now. “You weren’t in bed. I thought you’d regretted it, panicked, and left. I was halfway to deciding to move to Chicago when you walked back in with breakfast.”

The laugh that comes from Derek is a short bark before he shakes his head and reaches across the table; Will pushes the empty plate of lobster ravioli he’d spent the afternoon making aside and takes his hand. “You hate Chicago.”

“Which is why you’d never find me there.”

Derek chuckles. “You’re unbelievable.” There’s only a moment’s pause before he says, “I’d already done my panicking.”

Will raises an eyebrow. “Before I woke up?”

“Before I asked you out. And then again before I asked you out and had to clarify it was a date. I’m pretty sure we went out three or four times on what I’d intended to be a date but hadn’t actually gotten that across. Chowder was ready to throttle me.”

“The axe throwing?” he asks, grinning slowly.

“And the bar, the boardwalk, and the baseball game,” Derek says, nodding. “It was a lot of panicking. Wasn’t pretty.”

Will shakes his head. “You know I only went to the baseball game because I felt bad that no one else wanted to go with you.”

“You made that clear, yes,” Derek says, but his eyes crinkle at the corners in place of a smile. “I can’t believe you thought I left.”

“Yeah well,” Will says, pulling his hand back and reaching for his fork again. The wine may be shit, but the food is good and he’s not letting it go to waste. “Maybe I’d be less annoyed on a daily basis if you had.”

“Psshaw,” Derek says, reaching out to spear one of the remaining stalks of asparagus with apparently little regard for it Will was going to eat it, “less annoyed, but fewer orgasms. Your choice.”

“I’ll get back to you next year,” Will says. “Or maybe I’ll just sneak out tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” Derek laughs. “Just make sure you bring back a good breakfast.”

[maangoes]

my wips you can sponsor for fics for gaza:

a literally almost finished satosugu single dads fwb modern au that i abandoned for. Some reason (current wc: 5,784)

zosan wip that's a follow up to this series (current wc: 2,587)

kanthony wip inspired by this tweet - kate is an auctioneer, anthony is an old money rich person whose idiot family accidentally commits a priceless family heirloom to a charity auction (current wc: 1,018)

a nurseydex fic set a few years post the end of check please! nursey visits dex’s city for a stop on his book tour, more mature dynamic & Dex in particular has grown a lot (current wc: 1,968)

little ficlet about bruce forcing dick and robin!jason to go on a camping trip with him to bond because he’s an asshole (current wc: 977)

little ficlet about sokka visiting zuko in the fire nation when they’re #in love and #long distance pining (current wc: 608)

types of requests i’d accept

200-500 words for any of the dynamics above, canon compliant or AU

don’t write any of the dead dove stuff ✌🏽im bad at it

i’m going w/ fics4gaza’s base rate, which is $1/100 words!

[rhysiana]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @hmslusitania!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

96, somehow (some of them are ficlets preserved for posterity, so there should probably be more, if I remembered to move some more things from here)

2. What’s your total word count on AO3?

342,331

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Most actively at this exact moment, kpop rpf (ATEEZ and SHINee), but all but one thing in this category is a WIP I haven't posted yet. But I also have a Devil Judge AU I *really* want to write, if my writing brain picks back up properly.

4. Top five fics by kudos

This is hilariously skewed to Teen Wolf just by virtue of the size of the fandom, I don't actually think these are the fics I'm most known for, but:

-The (un)Usual? -Can I...? -Derek from the Club -You Give Me Butterflies -Rebalance

*Bonus content, least amount of kudos (because it is one of two fics for the entire fandom):

-This Would Be Enough

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably "In Love with Ghosts," a character study about Lan Xichen and Song Lan have to deal with being left behind in the world of the living

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I write so much fluff, I'm sure this is very subjective, but I think the one that makes *me* the happiest is the 2-part Petopher series Silver & Gold, because the middle-aged second-chance romance of them finally getting everything they've ever wanted was written to cater exactly to me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, but I do have a hilarious bookmark saying one of my rare M-rated fics should be a G (????)

9. Do you write smut?

Related to the above answer, not really. I collab for smut very happily, but I spent several years in my irl career copy editing for a self-published romance writer who was very prolific but not great at keeping characterization consistent in sex scenes and it kind of burned me out on thinking through such scenarios for my own hobby purposes. That said, I do keep writing things that toe closer and closer to the line, so. Perhaps I am recovering from the trauma.

10. Craziest crossover?

Uh, I'm pretty sure that would be the Kent Parson/Derek Hale thing I wrote here as penance for being a vector of cross-fandom Derek confusion, but I don't think that ever got moved over to AO3. The funniest AU that's almost but not quite a crossover was the Wenzhou AU ("Persistence Pays Off") I wrote that started from the premise of Senpai, Don't You Know?, which is a niche enough reference that I'm probably the only one who understands how hilarious the mismatch is.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes! Several times, it's very fun.

14. All time favourite ship?

You want me to choose??? Nurseydex, for the sheer power they had over my brain for so long, and Petopher, for being such tired Actual Adults

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I really want to finish Bull City Blues, but my brain started avoiding working on it hardcore because it was bringing up all my own bad grad school experiences, so I'm stuck here with most of the end written but not the ability to push through the middle, and I deeply apologize for that. I keep hoping I'll come up with a way around it, just so I can post the end, finally.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue (where I mentally always start) and descriptions of specific imagery (because I see scenes like movies in my head)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. (Longfic who? I don't know her.)

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

It's fine? If I ever wrote a long enough passage in not-English that it wasn't apparent from context, I'd have the translation in footnotes/hovertext, but it hasn't come up yet. Since so many of the fandoms I've written in recently have been non-English, I do sometimes have the dialogue in my head running in two languages simultaneously, but I tend to just write it all in English for ease of reading.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

Like, to be posted on the internet? Check, Please! Ever? I genuinely could not tell you.

20. Fave fics you’ve written?

-Petals & Thorns (Nurseydex pop punk star/florist AU series)

-Silver & Gold (Petopher rock star/lawyer second-chance romance)

-This Would Be Enough (Atom no Ko post-canon, the ace-est thing I've written so far)

-Fragments of a Life Lived in Dreams (Nirvana in Fire dreamsharing AU)

Ngl, I reread all my own fics regularly, but these are probably some of the most reread ones.

Tagging: anyone who wants to play! (but especially @annundriel, @cobrilee, and @gendzl, if you want)

[dumouwin]

Dex/nursey + first “I love you”?

“Okay, okay, okay,” Derek mutters to himself, pacing aroundthe room. “Hair, done. Makeup, done. Dress, on. Now we just need the bouquet – thebouquet! Fuck, fuck, fuck, where’sthe – ”

“Derek, calm the fuck down,” Yasmine says from behind him. “It’smy wedding day, I’m the one who is supposed to freak out. And the bouquet is literallyright there.” She points to the table right in front of Derek, and Derek refuses to feel shame. It’s his sister’swedding, and he’s the man of honor, he’s allowed to have a few freak-outs, too.

“You shouldn’t have made me your man of honor if you wanteda stress-free day,” Derek shrugs.

“Don’t I know it,” Yasmine snorts. “But you are my brotherand my best friend and you’ve made everything perfect so far. Just don’t passout when we’re up there and don’t get too drunk to give your speech and we cancall this day a win, okay?”

“You expect so little of me,” Derek laughs.

“Just because I know you expect so much from yourself, dork.”She pats the side of his face, and then Mom is there, telling them it’s timeand ushering them out the door.

Everything goes smoothly from there. He’s walking down theaisle with Samir’s best man, Chase, who gives him a little nudge and a grin ashe says, “Let’s just try not to trip.” Derek would be offended, but they had tripped in the rehearsal dinner, soit’s a pretty valid concern. He fixes his eyes on the officiant at the end ofthe aisle walks as carefully as he knows how, and by some act of God theymanage to get to their places with no incidents. Once he’s there, he finallylets himself look around the room.

It takes a minute, but he finally spots Dex in the thirdrow, smushed between two of his cousins. Everyone else in the room is turned tolook at the wedding party coming down the aisle, but Dex is looking right athim, grinning when Derek finally meets his eye.

Derek winks at him, and Dex scrunches his nose up like healways does when he’s pretending that Derek embarrasses him. Derek rolls hiseyes but keeps looking at Dex, taking in the sight of him in a suit. They hadn’tseen each other since breakfast this morning, with Derek immediately runningoff to triple-check everything and help Yasmine get ready. Before he’s donelooking, everyone stands and turns, and he has a half-second to be disappointedthat his view of Dex is obstructed before he realizes that Yasmine is walkingdown the aisle.

She’s gorgeous, of course, radiant and perfect and happy. He starts crying when she getsabout halfway down the aisle, and he doubts he’ll stop until the ceremony’sover. When she gets to him, she hands him her bouquet and mouths no crying, as if her own eyes aren’talready wet with tears.

The ceremony is sweet, and it’s beautiful how clearly inlove Yasmine and Samir are, but Derek can’t stop his eyes from wondering overto Dex. Mostly because every time he looks over, Dex is already looking rightback at him. It makes his heart feel so full, the way Dex is looking at himlike he’s the center of attentionhere. He can’t help it, he mouths I loveyou without even thinking.

He sees the way Dex’s breath catches as his grin turns intoa full-blown smile, and his own heart stutters in his chest when Dex mouthsback I love you, too.

Derek’s heart is full to bursting when he tunes back in justin time to hear Yasmine and Samir’s vows – which means more crying, from everybody this time. He cheers alongwith everyone as they’re announced husbandand wife and politely averts his eyes when they get slightly tooenthusiastic with their first kiss. Yasmine and Samir walk back down the aisle,stopping to hug everyone, and Derek slips over to the side to get to Dex.

“Hell of a time to tell me you love me, Nursey,” Dex laughs,stepping out of his row to meet him.

“Says the guy who couldn’t stop staring at me the whole ceremony,”Derek chirps. “Did you even look at Yas once?”

“Of course I did, she looks beautiful. It’s not my fault thebride happened to be standing next to the boy I love.” He grins, running a handdown the lapel of Derek’s suit jacket. “Also, not my fault the boy I love looksunfairly handsome in a suit.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about the boy I love,” Derek says, tipping forward tokiss Dex just once, quick and sweet.

“Alright, alright,” Dex sighs, “you better get out there forpictures before Yasmine has to come drag you out. I’ll meet you at the reception.”

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Derek huffs, smiling whenDex rolls his eyes. He kisses Dex on the cheek once before turning to leave.

“Hey,” Dex says, reaching out to catch his hand and turn himaround.

“Yeah?”

Dex tugs him a little closer, squeezing his hand as he says,“I love you.”

It feels like exhaling a big breath, relieving and easy andnatural all at once to say, “I love you, too.”

“Derek Malik Nurse if you do not get your ass out here right now – ”

“Fuck,” he whispers.“Coming, Yas!”

my writing | prompt me | paypal | kofi | cash.me

[willdexpoindexter]

Fictober18 Day 9: “You shouldn’t have come here”

Fandom: Check, Please!

Rating: T

Pairing: NurseyDex

He doesn’t see him when he sits down.

He doesn’t see him while he’s on stage, pouring his heart out.

He doesn’t see him until after.

He turns and suddenly William Poindexter is staring across Annie’s at him, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

Derek squares his shoulders and crosses the crowded coffee shop.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he says to the redhead.

“I’m sorry,” Dex replies, closing his mouth in a firm line. “You seemed upset, I thought maybe...”

“You thought wrong,” Derek snaps, turning on his heel.

“Derek!” Dex calls from behind him. Derek feels his resolve weaken at his first name, his shoulders slumping. “Was that about... me?”

He doesn’t turn around, but he nods.

“You... you love me?”

Derek takes a deep breath, tears threatening. When he saw Dex first, he had hoped that Dex wouldn’t have understood the poem. But he was too transparent for that. His words have betrayed him.

He turns around to be rejected.

When he finally meets Dex’s eye, he’s a lot closer than he had been before, and there’s tears in his eyes, too.

“I love you, too,” Dex says, smiling through his tears.

ao3 | ko-fi

[snackzimmerman]

They’ve got practice in about twenty minutes, and Dex can’t remember where he left his English paper. This wouldn’t normally be a huge issue, except that he has English right after he gets out for some godforsaken reason, so he doesn’t really have time to search for it. Curse his teacher for making them print every major assignment.

“Dex!” Nursey calls for what must be the fifth time in two minutes, clattering down the basement stairs. “Dude. You have to lead practice, like, stat.”

“Got that, Nurse,” Dex snaps back. “Just - go without me, okay? I’ll be there.”

Nursey gives him a look that says you’re not fooling anyone, which is the look Dex should be giving to him, seeing as he basically has the word chill emblazoned across his forehead at any given time. Still, he leaves, and that’s all Dex needs from him right now. He can’t exactly do what needs to be done with someone else in the room.

“Where’s my paper,” Dex asks the room at large, dry and impatient. Something pings at him in the back of his mind, and he turns to follow the ‘sound’, ducking underneath his desk and blinking in disbelief. His paper lies abandoned under a stack of books.

One challenge down.

“Okay,” Dex breathes, shoulders loosening as he jams it into his backpack, “quickest route to Faber.”

The pinging starts up again, and he follows it outside, trailing through back alleys and open stretches of grass, until he reaches the rink. Chowder raises his eyebrows in a way that surely means Nursey told me what’s happening, how did you make it here in eight minutes? Dex shrugs back at him. It’s - ugh - chill.

It’s not like he can say hey, I can magically find things without being carted off to an insane asylum - if they even still have those.

“Hey, Cap!” Tango chirps, which is very sweet and affirming, before inhaling in what is sure to precede a monologue of epic proportions. Dex subtly angles him toward Hops, who’s a lot more likely to actually listen than he is. The coward's way out will do for this morning.

“You about ready to lead?” Nursey asks lowly. “Didn’t want to start without you.”

The irritability Dex has gained from staying up too late the night before (for that damn paper!) melts somewhat. “Just about.”

His defense partner gives him a slight smile - the kind he might give to anyone - and sails away with a gentle pat on the back. It’s nice, Dex thinks, that he’s at the same level as everyone else is. Even at the same level of friendship as Chowder. He’s not that slightly-below point that he might have been even at the start of junior year.

Still, his mind itches with the instinct he’s forgotten something. Dex finds a quiet spot to lace up his skates and lets his power go to work.

“What do I need,” he whispers under his breath. “Right now, before I go lead my team.”

The pinging is stronger this time. That means he really does need this thing - more than just for the moment. By the way it blocks out the soft whoosh of the air conditioning, it might be one of the things he needs most.

Dex lifts his head, almost wincing as the pinging intensifies, and lets himself edge out onto the rink. He does slow circles himself as he orders them to start with a few idle laps, monitoring. Nursey and Chowder race each other instead of setting a good example for the new frogs, but that’s nothing new. Nothing he needs. Still, the noise gets louder as they get closer to him.

“I’m tooootally winning, C,” Nursey drawls, putting his hands behind his head in an effort to look unaffected, and Chowder gives him the slightest nudge as they pass Dex. Nursey flails too dramatically to keep him upright, tipping sideways. Distracted by the pinging, Dex takes the weight and goes down fast.

“Shit,” he grunts, wincing. There’s something warm on top of him. Something he’s pressed firmly into.

“Ow,” Nursey grumbles - Dex opens his eyes - oh, that’s Nursey’s chest right there, and his hand beneath Dex’s head to protect him, even though his helmet provides more cushioning - and the sharp sting of something akin to embarrassment rushes through him.

“Damn, Chowder,” Bully says in the background, amused. “You tried to assassinate the captain and our other best D-man.”

“I did not!” Chowder protests, skating closer. “Holy shit, guys, I’m so -”

“It’s chill, C,” Nursey waves it off. The weight leaves Dex’s front, and he lifts himself off the ground, brushing at his knees. “Dexy just couldn’t take the heat.”

“Shut the fuck up, Nursey,” Dex complains good naturedly, taking the proffered hand.

The pinging in his brain shuts up, suddenly and completely.

What do I need, he thinks again, spit rising to the forefront of his throat, and looks up at Nursey, who is and has been and always will be so clever - so irritating - so compassionate -

So pretty. Dex is fairly certain what he needs isn’t a romantic crisis.

Fuck.

[cricketnationrise]

Hi! For the check please follow party, can I request Nursey/Dex, basement, early morning

These have been so good! Love when a new one crosses my dash. Thanks for writing them :)

(thank you! 🥺) HELL YES I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR A BASEMENT ASK

_X_

basement, 6:12am

As a rule, Dex's days start with darkness, a grumble, a practiced roll across the mattress to silence a shrieking alarm. Then a closed-eyed stumble through the chilly air to the bathroom. The sooner he gets started, the sooner he gets coffee, the sooner he feels like himself.

Today though, Dex's day starts with the sound of birds, and a feeling of pleasant warmth. He's under the covers, and his blankets are the perfect temperature, and the sun is just starting to stream in through the basement window, but not in his eyes. For once, he doesn't have anywhere to be until the afternoon, and he shut his alarm off last night. These days are few and far between as a senior and a captain of a D1 team - Dex is taking advantage to relax every chance he gets. Dex starts to stretch and -

There's an arm across his waist.

An arm across his waist, and an ankle tangled with his own, the feeling of breath on the back of his neck. Without conscious thought, Dex can feel himself smiling - Nursey's here.

Nursey's here and doing his best impression of an octopus. Dex, moving slowly so as not to wake his boyfriend, turns over to face him. Nursey is dead to the world, one of the heaviest sleepers Dex has ever met.

And he's oh, so achingly beautiful like this.

The sunlight catches on his curls, his eyelashes, the side of his neck where Dex got a little carried away the other night. (The fines were worth it.) He drinks in the rare sight of Nursey still, the only movement is his chest rising and falling with every breath, the slightest snore on his exhales, betraying the tree allergy Nursey will deny until death. Dex's eyes trace the line of his jaw, the power in his shoulders, the swirls of his tattoo.

Nursey would be chirping him so hard if he was awake. Take a picture it'll last longer, Dexy. (He has taken pictures.)

(Many.)

As loathe as he is to miss a single second, Dex can feel sleep pulling him under once more. He scoots just a little closer. Laces his fingers through Nursey's in the little amount of space between their bodies. And just breathes as he lets his eyes flutter shut.

Nursey will still be here when he wakes up again.

[jam-heathen]

90-92 super combo

Hello! Okay, so I did not forget about this! I merely struggled to think of anything good, got entirely side tracked by school being difficult, and then had to wait until yesterday night at 11:30 pm to have an idea worth rolling with, all of which is to say I’m sorry this took so long, but I finally did this, and I hope it’s decent. Prompts are: “Forget it.” “That’s in the past.” and “You make me happy.” (which I kinda cheated, but here we go) 

---

Derek Nurse is of two minds as he and Dex look around this place. There’s a practical part of him that knows booking a tour of a haunted house, no matter how nice it is, objectively ridiculous. The location isn’t awful, a bit away from the city but certainly not a deal breaker, and it’s certainly bigger than their current place. They’re looking for their second apartment out of college, though; something much more two bros living it up in Boston rather than the soft suburban domesticity of the countertops Nursey’s currently admiring. If he’s honest with himself, which Nursey has a policy of restraint with, the quiet and vulnerability of the image this place conjures might fight their dynamic better anyway.

The better part of Nursey, however, is elated. It’s not particularly often he gets to tour around supposedly haunted houses, and as reluctant as he is to admit it, Dex is just the right amount of superstitious to make the whole experience that much more fun. The tour through the house has been uneventful so far, but there’s a pleasant back and forth routine as they walk through the house. Nursey will point out a great place for potential hauntings and Dex offers up his best on the fly scientific explanation for whatever phenomenon Nursey comes up with. He’s in the middle of listening to Dex rattle off one such explanation about refrigerators and the noises they’re prone to making when Nursey walks squarely into a ladder.

A ladder up.

Presumably to an attic.

Dex apparently sees the glint in Nursey’s eye before the idea is even voiced, because he’s immediately shaking his head. “Oh, absolutely not, Nurse. I care about you deeply, but I will not be going into a possibly haunted attic. Forget it.”

“You’ve spent time in the Haus attic,” Nursey smirks through the ladder rungs, “and Ransom swore up and down that it was haunted.”

“Okay, first of all the most dangerous thing about the Haus is probably the couch and that’s only because it’s a health code violation,” Dex rattles off without hesitation. It takes every fiber of Nursey’s being not to laugh, but he manages to let Dex continue. “And second, even if it was haunted, that’s in the past. I am a whole grown ass adult now with self-preservation.”

Nursey shrugs his shoulders. “Fine, you don’t have to go into the attic, but I 1000% am going up there and seeing what’s around.”

Nursey makes it halfway up the ladder before he hears a sigh and something suspiciously like “horror movie protagonist type fucker” follow him up into the attic.

The attic itself is nothing special compared to the rest of the house; it’s dusty in the way unused living rooms are, but really not so bad for what looks to be primarily a storage space. Dex stays by the entrance, but Nursey walks in further to explore. He’s kind of unfairly enamored with this space. A few old books stick out from piles of boxes, and the small window on the far wall conjures up images of potential cozy reading spaces in Nursey’s mind.  Bean bags and bookshelves would be incredible up here with all the natural light during the day, and warm lamps at night would make it a perfect space to wind down for the day.

“At least the window’s nice,” Dex offers, making his way over to inspect it. “Sealed correctly and a good size for this placement.”

Nursey’s about to explain his grandiose vision for an attic library in response when the attic door closes with a sudden thud. “I didn’t do that.

“I know... Nursey, please tell me that door isn’t locked.” Dex doesn’t sound quite scared, but he doesn’t quite look comfortable as Nursey crosses over to the hatch in the floor.

Nursey tries it once, twice, three times before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Okay, so it locks from the outside, but it’s okay; it’s fine, I can text the realtor and she can come get us out of here!” When Dex slumps down against the wall under the window instead of replying right away, Nursey gets worried. “Will, I am so fucking sorry I—”

“Nursey,” Dex interrupts, just barely keeping the giggles out of his voice, “in your own words: chill.”

To his credit, Nursey does take a second to steady himself and sit down beside Dex, but he still feels bad. “I’m serious, I really didn’t think anything would happen coming up here, and ghosts or not I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”

Dex shrugs, leaning ever so slightly into Nursey’s side. “I mean, this whole thing is fucking ridiculous, and it’d be more convenient if I could come get you unstuck from this stupid attic, but if I had to be stuck with anyone, I’m okay with it being you.”

“You’re not mad?”

Dex does snort a laugh at that. “I reserve the right to reevaluate if I get haunted by ghosts, but not really no.”

Nursey’s quiet for a moment, mostly because Dex’s tone feels much softer than he deserves right now. He’s not quite sure what to do with all of this, but Dex seems content to let him sit with it for now. Nursey, on the other hand, feels no such contentment leaving things where they are. “Listen, not to look a gift horse in the mouth here, but why are you not mad at me? I don’t want you to be or anything, but I feel like you have the right to be mad.”

Dex knocks his foot against Nursey’s ankle, shooting him a soft smile. “There’s worse ways to spend a Saturday, Nursey. I don’t know, hanging out with you makes me happy, I was already planning on us making a day out of whatever nonsense we got into, this is just a change in location. We’re good, okay? I like spending time with you, even in a probably not haunted attic.”

The look on Dex’s face is remarkably earnest, and there’s some part of Nursey that thinks somewhere along the way things shifted between them; either the air feels heavier, or he feels lighter, but either way he thinks this moment could be incredibly important to them. It’s frustrating how Nursey’s not sure of the right thing to say at a time like this. Everything feels either too much or not enough, too vulnerable, and yet insincere. He wants to say something, to respond to the soft look Will’s giving him in the afternoon attic light, but none of the right things are coming to mind.

Before he can say anything though, the realtor finally gets the door to the attic open and bursts the bubble between them. Maybe, Nursey thinks as he follows Dex back to the ground floor, if he’s lucky, he’ll get that moment back and hold onto it for good this time.

[hashtagdex]

aaaaa you reblogged the thing!!! could you write misc 7. “If I die, I’m haunting you first.” 💕

thank you so much for sending me one, jo!! i hope you like this <3

There is a reason Dex gets his hair cut once a month.

if it gets too long, it brushes his ears in a way he’s always painfully aware of and he can’t help but fidget with it if his hands aren’t busy. It’s a terrible distraction that he really can’t afford this close to finals. And yet, here he fucking is.

He’s tugging at it again, at the back of his head this time, when Nursey speaks up. “Dude, are you okay?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

Dex drops his hand onto his class notes and looks up at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just so busy studying that I don’t have time to get my haircut while the shop is open, but it’s growing out and getting so fucking annoying.” He tugs at his hair again once, like that will prove his point to Nursey.

Nursey looks at him for a moment, hand still curled around his pen as he scans Dex’s head, then shrugs. “I can cut your hair for you if you want,” he offers simply, “I saw clippers in the upstairs bathroom. How hard can it be?”

Dex hesitates. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Nursey, but Nursey is no professional, obviously, and he’s clumsy on a good day. His hair is important to him, Dex can admit that to himself, and the last thing he needs is to look like an absolute clown when he has places to be. And especially around Nursey.

But the hair is tickling his ears and it’s driving him insane, so he sighs and nods. “That would be great actually.”

_/ \_

Dex feels oddly exposed, sitting shirtless in front of the bathroom mirror on the stool they dragged upstairs from the kitchen, as Nursey clicks on the clipper’s guard. He knows he doesn’t need to. Nursey sees this—and more—almost every day in the dressing room, but this is more… intimate. There is no boisterous team around, no bro code to adhere to. It’s just them and whatever has been blooming between them for the past few months. 

“Ready?” Nursey asks and holds up the clippers in a much more menacing way than Dex thinks he really needs to. At least Nursey put on his glasses for this. As much as it makes Dex’s heart flutter to see him in them, it also calms his nerves to know he’s taking this seriously.

“If I die, I’m haunting you first,” Dex warns half-heartedly. He sees Nursey’s little eye roll in the mirror.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Nursey replies as turns the clippers on and gets started.

Dex finds it easy to get lost in the low buzz. Nursey’s free hand comes up to tilt his head where he needs it every now and then, and Dex lets his eyes fall shut. He hasn’t been this relaxed since before he started studying for finals two weeks ago and he’s going to soak up every second of this.

He only manages to drag his eyes back open once Nursey declares he’s done and turns the clippers off. It does look pretty good. Almost as if he’d actually managed to make it to the barber shop during opening hours instead of getting an impromptu haircut at home from Nursey at nine p.m. in their bathroom.

“Nice,” Dex tells him. He catches Nursey’s soft smile in the mirror and it goes straight to his heart.

Without warning, Nursey starts to dust stray little hairs off Dex’s neck and naked shoulders. His hands are warm and his touch is so light Dex can’t fight the goosebumps. Not that he really wants to. Nursey’s hands on skin feel good. Really good. Great, even.

Nursey doesn’t stop there, though. He pushes his hands up into Dex’s freshly buzzed hair, tracing along his sides and the back of his head. Dex can’t help but grin, probably embarrassingly lovestruck, when Nursey just keeps at it, going back and forth gently. The goosebumps make their way up Dex’s neck and, after noticing Nursey’s soft expression in the mirror, Dex allows himself to close his eyes again.

God knows when he gets to have this again, if ever, so he’s going to enjoy whatever Nursey’s willing to give him tonight.

Dex is sinking back into that relaxed state from earlier as Nursey leaves the shaved parts he worked on behind and threads his fingers through the longer parts on top of Dex’s head. His brain turns off for the moment and Dex is blissful and calm, finals and hockey and life outside this bathroom all but forgotten.

“You like that?” Nursey whispers eventually, voice quiet and soft with an audible smile.

Dex hums, low and deep, and doesn’t turn his brain back on. “Like you.”

Nursey’s hand stills right where it is at the crown of his head as Dex’s brain catches up with his mouth. Before he can start to panic and try to backpedal, though, Nursey asks, just as quiet as before but a lot more hopeful, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dex confirms, breathing a sigh of relief.

Then Nursey is pressing an unbearably soft kiss into the side of Dex’s neck and his heart lurches into his throat. “Me too,” Nursey says against his skin before he leaves another kiss on top of Dex’s shoulder, the smile clear as day.

Nursey’s hand falls from his head as Dex turns around on his stool and finally opens his eyes. The sight of Nursey there, with his soft smile and softer eyes behind smudgy glasses, is almost too much. He’s so beautiful Dex can hardly breathe.

“Thank you,” Dex says into the space between them as he reaches up to cup Nursey’s cheek. He strokes it once, a simple back and forth of his thumb, and then pulls Nursey down into a kiss that’s long overdue.

[dumouwin]

A prompt: an AU!

ooooo yay i love AUs!!!!

Derek has had the week from hell. He failed his geometry test on Tuesday, his hockey team got knocked out of regionals on Wednesday, and he got a cold on Friday. He slept all day Saturday, and now it’s Sunday, and literally all he wants to do is see Mamma Mia. By himself. With a large popcorn and a large drink. Maybe some Kit Kats, too.

Since it’s 10 A.M. on a Sunday, the only other people at the movie theater are the two concession stand workers, one of whom appears to be fully asleep while standing up. He veers towards the other guy, a redhead who is awake - but very clearly not happy about it. He’s kind of cute, despite the grumpiness, and Derek takes a minute to despair in the fact that this cute boy is about to watch him buy a movie ticket and a large popcorn for himself. Just one more bad thing to add to the week from hell.

“Hey, how can I help you?” The guy is putting on what is clearly a customer service smile, but Derek’s still pretty into it.

“Hi, um, can I get one student for Mamma Mia, a large popcorn, and a large Diet Coke, please?”

“Sure! Anything else I can get for you?”

There’s a half-second of internal debate before Derek blurts out, “Kit Kats, please.”

The redhead gets him everything and rings him up, and Derek waddles over to his theater with his arms full of snacks and his face hot with embarrassment.

The embarrassment dies down when he gets in the theater. He’s alone, he’s got his snacks, and Mamma Mia is fucking awesome. By the end, he’s singing along to Super Trouper, finally feeling good for the first time this week.

Of course that’s when the redhead comes in to clean the theater. Derek promptly spills his Diet Coke all down his front.

“Shit, fuck,” he curses, and before he can look for a napkin the redhead is there, handing him some paper towels and obviously trying not to laugh.

“Sorry, I’m a fucking mess,” Derek sighs, resigned to his fate.

“Somehow you’re still not the messiest person I’ve seen in this theater,” the redhead shrugs. “You’d be surprised how much damage those four-year-olds can do in one showing of Hotel Transylvania 3.”

Derek laughs, feeling at least a little better. He thanks the redhead and exits the theater, still thoroughly embarrassed at himself.

“Hey!”

He turns around to see the redhead walking towards him, holding another napkin.

“Here’s another napkin, just in case you need it.”

He could die. Now the cute boy is chirping him? Where does it end?

He grabs the napkin, fully ready to crumple it into a ball and throw it back at the redhead, when he notices the writing on it. Will 617-333-0124.

“Oh. Wow, yeah, I - uh, I’ll definitely be needing this one,” Derek laughs.

Will’s answering grin is so much cuter than his customer service smile. “I was hoping you would.”

my writing | prompt me | paypal | kofi | cash.me

[wrathofthestag]

SMH Quarantine Chat

Summary:  Social Distancing and SMH texting. A small ficlet. Takes place April 2020.  Also on AO3, part of the Zimbits ficlet collection (and not the big 100th fic.  I’m still working on that one.)

+++

Dex: Okay but who is the most likely to be caught pantless in a Zoom?

Shitty: Holster!

Lardo: Holster!

Jack: holster.

Nursey: Holster

Bitty: Obviously. I mean if it hasn't happened yet.

Holster: The level of disrespect here is astounding.

Ransom: Holtzy, dude. It already happened.

Holster: The level of betrayal here is astounding.

Nursey: Hahaha! What is everyone eating today?

Shitty: Lard's grandma finally shared her pho recipe with us over Zoom.

Lardo: Yeah, she loves Shitty for some reason. So he asked, and she said yes. “Oh, Byron! Yes, I will teach you!”

Shitty: What can I say. Grandmas around the world love me.

Dex: Okay Byron.

Jack: Haha. That’s like okay, boomer, right?

Holster: So I see Bitty has been giving Mr. Bitty meme lessons during the Big Q. Nice!

Ransom: I’m making some seafood pasta tonight.

Dex: Fancy. What kind of seafood?

Bitty: Seafood pasta? Hold on. I've had your “seafood pasta.”

Ransom: Fine! It’s Kraft dinner with a can of tuna.

Holster: Don’t knock it till you try it.

Bitty: We’re making beans and rice tonight, with some pork shank in there.

Jack: It’s really good.

Shitty: Look! Not everyone has a chef living with them.

Bitty: Don’t be jealous. I’ll send you the recipe.

Lardo: Sorry, we can’t reciprocate. My bà would kick my ass if I shared her recipes.

Nursey: Do you want to play charades on Zoom again on Saturday?

Holster: You guys just want to see my legs, don’t you?

Ransom: Who wouldn’t?

Jack: Charades or karaoke?

Shitty: Now that I know that Jack Laurent Zimmermann-Bittle loves karaoke, the first thing we’re going to do is go to a mother hecking karaoke bar.

Jack: I can’t do that in front of real people.

Bitty: What are we? Figments of your imagination? I’m looking right at you.

Lardo: *ghost emoji*

Jack: You know what I mean.

Chowder: Sheesh! I have a million texts to catch up on! Cait and I were finishing up a movie.

Nursey: You missed Jack recognizing a meme, Shitty wooing Lardo’s grandma for a recipe, karaoke and Holster going commando on a Zoom call.

Chowder: Wow!

Holster: I had underwear on, Christopher.

Dex: All right, all right! Zoom charades saturday at 7:00? Yay or Nay?

Lardo: Sure.

Shitty: Yep.

Jack: Sounds good.

Bitty: Let’s make sangria. Everyone have ingredients to make some?

Nursey: I think I have some maraschino cherries.

Dex: We do. And we still have some limes.

Chowder: Can you send me the recipe?

Ransom: Seafood pasta for everyone.

Bitty: <333

[snackzimmerman]

Dex has his fingers twisted so tight in his shirt that Derek thinks they might pop off.

“Dude,” he coaxes. “Chill, it’s only -”

“If you tell me to chill, I have full reign to shove a popsicle somewhere I promise you won’t enjoy,” Dex hisses back.

There’s a pause in which Derek weighs his options. On one hand, watching Dex’s reaction if he said no promises would be the highlight of his week. On the other hand, he’s a pretty big fan of life. Sometimes he even writes poetry about it, so, you know. He’s committed.

As if he can read his mind, Dex’s face goes almost as red as his hair. Hopefully he appreciates Derek keeping his mouth shut. “I’m not sitting with you on the ride over.”

With that, he storms over to Chowder and takes a seat (flop, pitiful look at C, cooing and all). Derek makes an effort to avoid rolling his eyes - keep it cool, Nurse - and takes his own. Whatever, this way Dex won’t hog the window seat. He doesn’t care at all.

“Mind if I sit?” Ford asks tentatively, clipboard in hand. Derek is certain that she could bully her way into any seat she wants, but he waves a hand at the empty space in invitation.

The girl drops her bag onto the ground, positioning it between her feet, and pulls out a bag of granola. Then another. Then a third. Soon enough, there’s thirty plastic baggies of granola scattered all over them, and Ford begins flinging them into the laps of hapless hockey players.

Derek watches with amusement as she pulls out a package of cheez its for herself. She puts one into her mouth, retaining eye contact, and slowly hands over another bag. “So.”

“So,” he repeats, eyeing the bag with trepidation. Hopefully he doesn’t explode it all over the bus.

“Dex is sitting with Chowder,” Ford mentions cautiously, skirting past offhand. “Don’t you guys… have to sit together, according to the by-laws?”

He shakes his head, wry smile pulling at his lips, and tears open the bag. It survives. Sweet. “Ransom and Holster scribbled that in with Sharpie freshman year.”

“They would. The point still stands.”

Derek has to stop and think on this one, because he doesn’t start a sentence without a preplanned ending. Words come easily to him (too easily, there are so many choices, and he can’t shut his brain off), but there are right things to say and wrong ones, and when it comes to Dex he’s wrong more often than he’s right.

“Dex has a family gathering before the game,” he finally allows, hoping the pause hasn’t gone on too long. “And he’s taking his stress out on me.”

“Why you?” Ford takes her hand out of the cheez its. Serious matters require serious solutions, like wiping your cheesy fingers on the teammate nearest to you. Because Ford is near and dear to Derek’s heart, he ignores this trespass for the sake of drama.

“Because I’m closest. Because that’s how we deal with things.” Because he doesn’t like who he has to be around some of them.

She links her fingers together. “Well, can you help him with it?”

He blinks, lashes closing on a world in which this problem is simply an unsolvable thing to be dealt with, and opens them to an idea. Derek puts an arm around Ford’s shoulders, ruffles her hair in a brotherly manner (“Do you want to die, Nursey?” “I’m wondering that myself.”) and throws a cheez it at Dex.

What? Dex mouths at him from up front.

I’ll be your fake date, Derek mouths back.

Dex stares at him, stares at his mouth again like he thinks he read it wrong, and turns back to Chowder. Derek shrugs. He’ll come around eventually.

[sincerelyreidburke]

Boy Scout Dex drabble time!!!!!! (S/o @bitsfordays for talking this through with me like 10 days ago and creating this concept in my head)

Anyway, CCU, Nursey goes home with Dex for senior-year Thanksgiving, let’s have a field day.

//

It’s not that Derek is scared of Will’s parents.

After all, he’s met them before. He’s pretty sure the first time he met them, at least distantly, was Family Weekend freshman year. They know who he is, and they’ve always been nice to him. When he first met Will, he was sure that he came from the type of family who would cast judgement on him without knowing anything about him, based only on the way he looks. He’s known plenty of those types of people— at Andover, back home in New York, even at Samwell. It’s a part of life. He was sure that Will came from that type of environment.

But he was wrong. Three years later, it turns out, there are a lot of things about Will he was wrong about.

And so here he is, spending Thanksgiving with the Poindexters in Maine.

He should be okay. He shouldn’t be intimidated. After all, he isn’t scared of them. They’re kind people, and he knows it full well. They were the ones who extended the invitation, who wanted him here, to share their family holiday with them.

It’s just… the way they invited him, as Will’s friend, and what he actually is to Will, these days, are two different things.

It’s okay, though. Derek knows how to stay firmly closeted around people who can’t know. This is nothing new. It doesn’t make it easy, but at least he knows how to do it.

The point is: he’s not afraid of Will’s parents. But he does sort of care an awful lot about what they think of him.

Not that he’d admit it. At least, not to them, or to Will, or to anyone, really— except maybe Chowder, a few drinks in at a kegster, spouting off anything and everything about all of his love for Will and hope for their future. But he’s not so sure that telling Will he’s been anxious for days about making the right impression on his potential future in-laws (God, he hopes) would be the best idea. He’ll tell him later, maybe.

He has to get through this Thanksgiving break first.

So when Mrs. Poindexter is giving him the tour of the house upon his first arrival, he’s on high alert.

Chill Mode is a hundred percent activated; it’s in overdrive, in fact. He trails her, a short lady with strawberry blond hair who he’s pretty sure is simultaneously the sweetest thing ever and also the most likely person to kick somebody’s ass given the opportunity. She brings him to the bedroom he’ll be staying in, to drop his stuff— Will’s room, the one he used to share with his brother; there are still two beds, Mrs. Poindexter explains, because Drew only moved out a few years ago, which works out just great for you two, doesn’t it?

(Ha. Derek wonders if he can get away with some funny business once the bedroom door is shut tonight. He’s not sure he wants to test the waters with Will’s parents, but then again, if he was extra careful to keep Will quiet…)

Not the point, not the point. Derek is chill. He’s doing the tour of Will’s childhood home, the space he grew up in, trying to see all the imprints of his memory in the worn floorboards and the old furniture. “You have a lovely home,” he tells Mrs. Poindexter in the living room. She smiles at him like this is the best thing he could’ve said.

“Well, thank you, Derek,” she replies, gracious and kind. “It’s nothing all too fancy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Derek shrugs, flashing an effortless smile, and replies, “Fancy is overrated.”

Mrs. Poindexter chuckles. Over his mother’s shoulder, Derek watches Will as his face washes with relief. Derek knows what he’s thinking. This is going well.

Derek hunts for more things to compliment, and his eyes land on a series of photos on the wall next to the fireplace. “Oh!” he says, with a smile, as he steps towards them. One of the pictures features Will in a cap and gown, in what Derek recognizes as the front yard of this very house. “Will, was this your graduation?”

Will nods, and so does Mrs. Poindexter. “It was a beautiful day,” she remarks. “And look at the weigela in bloom right behind him; aren’t they nice?”

Derek nods like he has any idea what plant she’s talking about. There’s a big pink bush over Graduation Will’s left shoulder, so he’s guessing it’s that. “They’re great.”

“We’ll need another one soon,” Mrs. Poindexter hums, with a smile, and then puts her hands up in a frame shape like she’s imagining just where it’ll go on her wall. “When you boys finish this year.”

“God, Ma,” Will mumbles, with a smile that might be real or might be forced. “Not so fast. We’ve still got over half a year.”

Mrs. Poindexter laughs. “I know,” she replies. “I’m just teasing. But it’s gone by so fast, hasn’t it?”

Derek catches Will’s eye, and answers for both of them. “Quicker than anything.” He pauses, smiles at him. “But it’s been a good run.”

Will smiles back, just a tiny bit, and then looks back at the pictures as if they aren’t on the wall in his own living room in the house he lives in. Derek follows suit, and this time, he catches sight of one below the graduation one, of Will with just his parents in some kind of banquet hall.

Derek squints at the picture. He does a double take.

What is Will wearing?

It’s…… he’s in some kind of a sailor outfit. It’s white on the top and bottom, with a hat and a dark necktie and a bunch of pins or maybe patches near the collar. His parents are in regular dressed-up clothes, his dad in a suit and his mom in a dress, and they both look as proud as can be.

Derek looks between picture-Dex and the Dex next to him, who is in distinctly non-sailor clothing, just a trademark flannel and jeans. Dex looks younger in the photo, but not that young. It’s from high school, for sure.

“Will,” he says slowly. “Is there a story behind this picture?”

Will looks where he’s looking, and then pauses to look right at Derek, like he’s trying to figure out if Derek is about to make fun of him. During his silence, Mrs. Poindexter chimes in. “Oh, that one!” She smiles huge, the trademark of a proud mother. “That was his Quartermaster ceremony.”

Derek looks back at the picture. Steadily, the joy of this fascinating new discovery about the man he’s been in love with for 2+ years starts to register. There is a story behind this picture. And he thinks he’s about to hear it. “Quartermaster?”

Will lets out a gentle sigh, tucking his hands into his pockets, and says, kind of unceremoniously, “I was a Boy Scout.”

This, Derek was aware of. Will occasionally makes cracks about being prepared or lets an offhanded comment loose about his scouting days. But Derek hasn’t ever heard a word about quartermasters, whatever they are. And he definitely hasn’t seen this sailor outfit.

He looks at the picture. Will looks cute. Cute enough that he’s feeling some type of way about it. His hair is a little long— at least, long for Dex; it’s still short in general— and it’s sideswept a little under his hat, from which his ears stick out underneath. His necktie is just a little crooked to one side. Even his shoes are white.

He looks like some kind of old-timey boat guy. And Derek is kind of thinking he needs to show the group chat immediately.

“I feel like you should tell me more,” he replies, grinning up at Will.

Mrs. Poindexter nudges Will from the other side. “Oh, darling, you should,” she says. “You’ve never told Derek about scouting?”

“Oh, I’ve told him,” Will replies, but his tone is fully conscious of the fact that she’s going to have him tell Derek again, and Derek has literally never been more pleased with a situation.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the picture, and saves it for later.

For now, he’s going to hear this story.

BONUS:

Samwell Men’s Hockey 2017-18

Nursey sent a photo to the group

Nursey: everybody

Nursey: PLEASE look at my boyfriend

Nursey: i am a.) dying, and b.) also in love

Dex disliked a photo

Dex: Stop being corny on main

Chowder loved a photo

Chowder: omg!!!!!!!!!!!

Chowder: dex where is that from!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ford loved a photo

Ford: DEX WERE YOU IN ANYTHING GOES?

Dex: Looooool, no. Sea Scouts.

Dex: Like Boy Scouts but w/ sailing.

Tango emphasized a photo

Tango: tahts so cool???

Chowder: dex how come i never knew this!!!!!!!!!!!

Nursey: to be fair i also didn’t know this until like 20 minutes ago

Nursey: lol

Hops: Omg you look like sailor moon!

Dex: I wish I knew what that meant

Nursey: hops you’re my hero

Hops: Thanks nursey!

Hops: :D

Nursey: guys i can’t even

Nursey: he looks so cute

Ford: This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

Bully: nothing but respect for MY captain

Nursey: OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN

Chowder: sailor dex sailor dex sailor dex!!!!!!!!!

Ford: Brb changing group chat photo

Nursey: ily ford

Chowder: we should put this on shirts!!!!

Louis: Dexy the sailor man

Dex: Derek, Im going to blcok you

Nursey: love you bby

Dex: GROSS

Rhodey: is group chat flirting a fine

Bully: It should be

[likeshipsonthesea]

I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

[pancakethefish]

How come none of y'all told me that hE WAS FUCKIN REAL!!!!!!