Archive of Our Own ^beta

 And you laugh.

Loudly-

Head tipping back.

And while your eyes/

Are on the ceiling,

I am mouthing/

Something too heavy even/

For this steady night to shoulder.

“This is not a joke.” I mouth.

“Love me. Love me.”

-Letters from Madea, Salma

Will can’t believe what he’s just gotten himself into. He’s well into his twenties, has a dazzling career in some tech job, and owns his own house. So when an old teammate, not just any old teammate but him, calls asking for a favor, Will didn’t think he’d find himself agreeing. Because it isn’t just any favor. It’s “Hey, I need a fake date for this wedding in a month. Help?”. And when said old teammate is someone he’d fought tooth and nail to never date, the nineteen-year-old Will inside him loses all resolve.

This is how he finds himself on a bland Monday evening drinking scotch with Derek Fucking Nurse. This is how he finds himself uprooting his comfortability for someone he hasn’t seen in years - but all the same, someone he’s never stopped thinking about.

October - Senior year

The Haus is so hot and sweaty, it could be the jungle. It shouldn’t be surprising given it's the Halloween party of the century. But even for SMH, the house is packed back to back with people spilling out into both the front yard and the back. If he’s being honest, Will is surprised the cops haven’t shown up yet to bust the place down. 

The music shakes his chest deeply, rattling out any lingering frustrations from midterms. People are pushed against the wall making out desperately and drinking until their teeth go numb. Logically, Dex realizes he’s majorly behind and needs to start catching up in order to put the cherry on top of his stress-relieving sundae. He makes a clear line to the kitchen to grab a shot or two when he notices Nursey talking with one of the waffles in the corner.

Nursey is glistening, thanks to the rising temperature of the room, and has a clean haircut to counterbalance the disheveled zombie costume he’s sporting. An easy posture, strong muscles, and a couple of drinks have him looking like a fucking dream-boat. And just to spite Dex, Nursey rolls his head back laughing so hard he almost falls over. Right then and there, Dex’s heart does exactly what he hasn’t been wanting it to do, and he decides tonight is just as good as any other to get absolutely obliterated. 

By three or four shots, two beers, and a few too many cups of Tub Juice, he is starting to feel enjoyably unsteady and falsely confident. Of course, this equates to him finding the person he started to get drunk over - which he knows isn’t exactly healthy but Shitty couldn’t make this year's party so there’s no one to reprimand him about the slippery slope of emotionally driven drinking. So by the time the party is at its height, he himself feels high on the feeling of Nursey’s hips and chest pressed right against his in the middle of the dance floor. Some classic party song is on and the two of them swing to the rhythm. Tunnel vision takes over with all of Nursey’s six-three, white smile, erratic self being the prime target. Will’s ears feel waterlogged and his limbs heavy with alcohol allowing for his defense partner to engulf all of his senses. 

Song after song, the two of them dance and dance. He doesn’t even know what time it is, but based on how many irregulars have left, he's guessing it’s probably close to three in the morning. 

“Want to sit on the porch and cool off?” Nursey asks with slurred words.

“Yeah.” Dex swallows and nods, something bubbling under his sternum.

The two of them stumble through the house, arms linked and weight pressed together for support. Outside, the air has Dex’s favorite autumn crisp and the stars seem to be singing above them. Despite his drunkenness, he seems to think this will be a sliver of time that will never escape his consciousness. As they sit down, the wood croaks beneath them and for whatever reason, they laugh until they’re breathless and their chests heave. And for whatever other reason, they find themselves staring at one another with wide grins and soft eyes, ignoring the sky above and the rumbling bass behind them. 

This is all he remembers in clarity from the night before so when he wakes up in bed naked to an equally naked Nursey, he suddenly feels like throwing up.

Monday evening

“So, how have you been, William Billiam?”

“Really? What are you? Fifteen?” Will deadpans but answers the question, “Oh you know, same as ever. Working on projects and decoding secrets to destroy the Federal Government. What about you?”

Derek clearly finds this amusing and does that same damned head-back laughter. Will needs to get himself under control because he’s older and wiser and… different. Sort of. 

“Well, I’ve been chillin’. Working at an editing company while I piece together my first book. It’s a thriller of all things. And I was talking to some family about it, how wild and crazy it is that I’m doing it, and they all came onto me saying ‘Wild and crazy would be you having a boyfriend.’ and I said ‘I do!’ then invited said boyfriend to my cousins wedding in a month. Therefore I immediately flipped shit and called you.” Nursey was talking with his hands, making it feel comfortable despite the clear fact that when “boyfriend” was mentioned, his first thought was Will.

And Will might be different now, but his brain thinks before his body registers what it's doing and Will has to stare at Derek after he’s just said “So I was the first person you called?”

Derek's face is rosy and William would blame the blush on the lighting at the bar except that Derek’s mouth is agape and his shoulders seem to be touching the ceiling. Great, Will has made an already awkward conversation reach new lows. After several years of not seeing each other. Just great. But just as William goes to apologize or make excuses, Derek composes himself. It isn’t the layers of faux chill that he carried even throughout senior year, or the magical ability to try and not give a shit, but a genuine chill composure. Will is slightly freaked out that Derek Nurse is genuinely being chill. 

“Well, I guess I realized we hadn’t talked in forever and everyone else is married,” Derek pauses, seemingly considering how to continue, “Not that being unmarried is bad of course, but I knew from your Facebook. And well, I think it's lame neither of us tried to reach out.”

Something deep begins to simultaneously twist and unwind deep within Will’s stomach. He has regretted not keeping in touch with Derek, his best friend for four years. He has felt guilty for not trying harder with Derek, someone who fought hard all those years ago. He has felt angry that Derek never reached out himself, and felt like all that time went to waste. Hearing a confirmation that the two of them couldn’t keep it the fuck together makes him swell up with joy knowing full well a needle will pop his bubble. If Will had just tried to get over Derek like a normal human being, maybe he wouldn't have pushed him away. They wouldn’t put on a face of familiarity when catching up with other friends or avoid certain questions from family. Life could have been a little less mundane. 

Will responds after a relatively awkward pause, taking a deep breath and releasing it fully. He does not want to revert back to petty defense mechanisms. “I agree it's lame on both our ends. I guess we can use the time before and during the wedding to make amends.”

And there it is. Will has just agreed to a fake wedding date with his ex-best friend. What the fuck.

“Wait, you’ll do it?!” 

“Yeah, I guess. I haven’t got much else to do.”

And the smile on Derek is bright, bright, bright. 

And Will is so screwed, screwed, screwed.

October - Senior year

Dex is not going to throw up because he woke up naked to an equally naked Nursey. Okay, maybe he is going to. He gets out of bed in a way that makes sure he won’t wake up Nursey. He is not going to have this conversation. There’s no way they actually went through with… okay no. Nursey is going to wake up in Dex’s bed which isn't unusual but waking up in it naked is going to be so Dex needs a few minutes to come up with a game plan.

Anxiety pools miserably in his stomach and starts leaking into his lungs. He’s having a solid panic attack in the bathroom and is leaning on the toilet like it's the only thing keeping him afloat. Embarrassingly, he does throw up. Nothing like your repressed and unrequited – though that might need to go under revision depending on how much of last night he can remember – crush waking up naked next to you and then promptly having the freak out of his college career. There’s only one thing he can think about doing.

After three rings, Bitty answers the phone. He sounds groggy, of course, it's hardly even nine in the morning, but he doesn’t seem to be offended at the early wake-up call either. 

“Hey, Dex. What’s up?”

And he can hardly breathe, his mouth glued shut from how dry it is after his panic attack so a profound “Uhm” and a heavy swallow are all that come out.

“Dex, hon, what's wrong? Is everythin’ okay?” Bitty is clearly concerned now. Bitty switches it to facetime. His face colors with worry the minute he sees Dex. Dex himself didn’t realize how horrible he looked.

Dex swallows once more, takes a large inhale, and exhales for even longer. When he begins to speak, his voice is hardly a whisper. Which is fine, he needs to make sure no one can hear him anyway.

“I um- I might have slept with Nursey last night but I can’t remember.”

“Oh my god.”

“The last thing I remember was sitting on the porch talking with him. Next thing I know I woke up this morning naked and so was Nursey.”

“Okay, so as of now there’s no confirmin’ it actually happened. Ransom and Holster did that all the time.”

“That was Ransom and Holster, Bitty.”

“Fair point but– listen, until ya remember more details let's just assume nothin’ happened. If he doesn’t bring anythin’ up then that’s just confirmation y’all didn’t fuck.”

Dex doesn’t think that logic is very sound but he isn’t going to argue with Bitty before he’s had coffee. They come up with a game plan, something Dex can say to convince Nursey that he was just getting rambunctious last night and fell asleep on Dex’s bed before getting into pajamas. Something that hopefully Nursey accepts. And hopefully, Nursey has no memories of what happened last night. They were both extraordinarily drunk so it's possible neither will remember. Dex does not want to deal with whatever gross crush feelings he’s been repressing and sleeping with Nursey would negate his plan to do so. He wants Nursey so badly but it just isn’t possible. Not with who they are and Dex’s family and all the other bullshit wrapping up the package which is Dex.

He stands to wash his hands and face before he goes downstairs to get the coffee started. He takes his first sip and suddenly remembers Nursey leading him up the stairs holding his hand. But that's it. Just before the revelation can hit him, Nursey is coming down the stairs. He stops at the arch of the kitchen and asks what Dex was dreading he’d ask.

“Um– Dex? Did we hook up last night?”

Jesus fuck this is going to be a long year.

Late Monday night

Both Will and Derek are sitting on Will’s shitty couch laughing their asses off over god knows what. During their conversation at the bar, the two of them had shredded the vague catching-up-on-life talk and started to recount old jokes. They somehow found their way back to Will’s apartment where a pizza was ordered and eaten devastatingly fast. They talk like several years haven’t passed and they haven't ignored their evolving lives. An air of “should we talk about this?” hangs heavy between them but it isn’t worth putting a damper on their groove. 

After a handful of hours and a couple of glasses of wine, Dex is positively spinning.

“You aren’t driving home, Nursey.” Dex slurs.

“I can take the couch,” Derek replies lazily, content not to get up, “It’s been a while since I’ve had you call me Nursey.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Couch is yours at the expense of your back.”

Dex goes off to get some blankets for Derek and tries to Not Think.

December - Senior year

After that morning back in October, both having denied the possibility of sleeping together and neither remembering anything, it didn’t come up again. Tension hung thick between them for a week or two but at the end of the day, it wasn’t worth exploring. Both he and Nursey thought it would be best to move forward; no one remembers and therefore nothing happened.

As winter break looms, Dex finds himself distracted by house chores and new pies to bake and finals kicking his ass so he hardly has time to think about his Feelings. Soon enough he will be at home surrounded by a million kids but incredibly lonely– a mix of emotions that takes him by surprise every year. All said and done, he needs a proper break from Nursey despite the fact that he’s going to miss his best friend. 

Dex is vacuuming downstairs when Nursey runs up to him, shaking his shoulders violently.

“Bad news, bad news, bad news, bad-”

“Yo, Nursey? What's wrong with you?”

Nursey is breathing heavily, his chest visibly rising and falling, and his hands are clammy enough to be felt through Dex’s cotton t-shirt.

“My parents accidentally booked the wrong number of tickets for our winter break trip and I can't go and I also can’t stay home alone so can I please come home with you for break?” Nursey is properly rambling and shows no sign of stopping so Dex clamps a hand directly over his mouth.

Nursey is still trying to talk despite the hand covering his mouth. Dex is trying to find the disgust in spit coating his hand but unfortunately his mind is reeling at Nursey’s desperate plea.

He wants to come to Dex’s house? For break? He wants to go to bumfuck avenue in rural Maine and spend a whole month surrounded by rigid redheads who fly Trump2020 flags on their boats?

No, this is not happening. This is not a possibility. Nursey knows Dex’s family is… off. Well fuck, okay Nursey doesn’t really know anything about them at all. Dex has masterfully skirted the issue for almost four years now and the most people know about his familial relationships is that it’s atypical. 

Dex will not subject Nursey to that environment, let alone doing so blindsided. 

Stuffing down the bubbling fear of letting down his last barrier protecting him from placing complete trust into Nursey– which again, not helping his Emotional Situation– he moves his freckled hand from Nursey’s mouth to grab each side of his face.

“Dude, take a breath.” Nursey is staring unblinkingly at him like he just discovered the eighth wonder of the world.

It takes a second, but he draws in a slow, deep breath before letting his shoulders relax with the following exhale. It’s like the guy just now learned he’s allowed to breathe.

“Listen,  I will help as much as I can, but going to my family's place with me will likely be a disaster.” Dex hasn’t let his eyes stray from Nursey’s, hoping their unspoken defense partner slash best friend silent communication will share Dex’s worries without saying them aloud. 

Of course, this is a moment where the universe tells Dex to suffer. Nursey is clearly confused, another emotion swimming around in there that Dex can’t quite place, and with a resigned sigh, Dex leads Nursey by his still-squished face towards the New Couch for what a normal person would consider a heart to heart. Dex is self aware enough to know he isn’t normal; sharing factual family situations is commonplace among friends, he just hates having to talk about them.

His aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, every single Poindexter (by blood or even marriage) is blatantly racist, homophobic, and swarmed by generational catholic guilt. His family is much of why Dex was such a dick his freshman year. He was just beginning to realize some (gay) things about himself and gaining general human empathy, and the transition was not smooth sailing.

“Look,” Dex finally breaks eye contact and drops his hands, nervously twisting them, “You remember me as a frog. I was like, capital A Asshole, and disastrously undereducated in being a decent human being.”

Nursey snorts, and Dex slaps his arm gently with a scoff, glad that both of their stress levels have begun dropping. 

“Yeah well, imagine that times one hundred, and that there’s an army of them. That is my family, in the shortest version of the story imaginable.” Dex knows he’s sporting pouty scowl but it takes too much energy to control facial expressions when anything about his family is mentioned.

“Well shit, man.” 

The air stands still as Nursey sits with the information. Knowing him, he’s probably reviewing the last four years of interactions with Dex and thinking some stupid shit like “Ah, yes that makes sense now.” 

So it takes Dex by surprise when Nursey comes out of his stupor and asks “Why do you go back every break then?” and now his fellow d-man is sporting his own type of scowl. It isn’t quite pity Dex sees, but it's something towards silent realization. It makes this newly shed barrier squeeze his heart. Fuck. With an awkward cough, Dex shoves the pleasurable squeeze into a jam-packed box labeled "Problems for Future Dex”.

“Well uh, large, catholic, Irish families will make sure everybody shows up for the holidays unless they know that person's dead. I can’t explain it well. I just know I’ve always gotta go back.”

“Why don’t you do winter break with me?” Nursey asks.

Dex freezes, praying to every higher power that his flush stays contained to his ears only. Fantasy Dex is screaming to let Real Dex make his consistent fantasies come to life, but Real Dex wants to keep the dusty box of problems closed. An entire month in the same house as Nursey will guarantee that the box opens, and Dex perishes as a result of the embarrassing knowledge now known to the world. 

He’s sorting through any and every possible excuse to avoid perishing at the hands of Derek Nurse, scrambling to save his repressed, homosexual ass.

“Wait uh, I thought you couldn’t stay at home? We can’t stay in The Haus either, it’s getting its next set of renovations during break.”

“What I said was that I can’t stay home alone, not that I can’t go at all.” Nursey rolls his eyes as if this was obvious.

“So you were freaking out because you didn’t want to be all by yourself, in your own home?” Dex mumbles with an eye twitch. He cannot believe he began opening up about his least favorite thing over this.

“But think of how that led us to this s’wasome opportunity to be the best d-man pair ever! It’ll be a month-long best friend staycation.” Nursey is beaming.

Mortification sets in as Dex understands there’s no getting out of this. He’s going to spend an entire month alone with Nursey, who just so happens to be his distinctly unrequited (and don’t forget repressed!) crush.

Fuck.

Tuesday around six in the morning.

Will has always been a light sleeper, so when a horrifically loud alarm reaches his ears, he shoots straight up out of bed with a racing heart. 

He’d totally forgotten that Derek slept on the couch because they may or may not have gotten drunk on the first night of the work week. It’s a good thing both of them are able to work from home.

Remembering that Derek is immune to an alarm's shrill, he stomps off to the living room to push the snoring writer onto the floor. Tried and true way of waking up one Derek Nurse. 

Whether his groan is from faceplanting onto the thin carpet below, or the hangover Dex knows he’s sporting, is unknown. Dex considers his Irish heritage to be the only reason he’s only had a handful of hangovers in his lifetime. 

“Why on earth did you set your alarm so early?” William is whining but he doesn’t care. Once he has his coffee he’ll be fine. Right now though, Will is contemplating punting Derek’s phone across the apartment and kicking him to the curb. His day-old clothes are rumpled and untucked, his hair has dents from folded arms, and he’s got drool stains on his cheek, so he’d fit right in with the finest of New York City’s walk of shamers. It wouldn’t be that mean to kick Derek out, right?

No, that is definitely mean, it’s just Will’s pre-caffeine brain looking for its first victim. 

Leaving Derek still sprawled on the floor, William pads into the kitchen to start brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Within minutes of turning it on, the room smells deep and rich. Instead of waiting around doing nothing, he begins to sort through the fridge, looking to see if he has all the ingredients to make, what is still hopefully, Derek’s favorite breakfast. All seems well there so he pulls each ingredient out.

First he cracks a dozen eggs, then whisks them in the way Bitty taught him as to get the fluffiest outcome. At the start of each week, William preps his ingredients so he doesn’t have to worry about cook time. With the eggs whisked, he puts in a small handful of chopped black olives, onion, spinach, feta, and bacon bits. He adds salt and pepper, butters the cupcake pan, and then shoves his egg muffins into the oven to slowly come to life over the next hour.

Now the coffee is ready, so Will pours himself a mug of black coffee, and with an unusual nervousness to have within his own home, pours Derek a cup. Thankfully, Bitty uses flavored creamers when he visits and the bottle of hazelnut creamer from last week is still good. The color of the coffee becomes a light caramel. He’s staring down at the swirling liquid with a small frown.

Is this still the color Derek takes his coffee? What if his order has changed. He’s simultaneously mad at himself for not being in Derek's life to even know and mad at himself that even after all these years, there’s part of William that still loves him like he did back then when knowing that damn coffee color meant something.

It’s too early for an anxiety spiral, so Will rolls his shoulders out with a steadying inhale before taking both mugs into the living room.

Derek is still flopped on the floor, but now he’s holding his phone and seemingly scrolling through instagram. Will places the morning coffee right next to the hand holding the phone, before unceremoniously stepping over Derek to take his spot on the couch.

There have been less awkward silences between them, but objectively, for not having seen one another in a handful of years, the silence isn’t stilted. Mainly, William believes he’s the one making the atmosphere tickle around them, as he keeps side eyeing Derek to catch his reaction to the coffee. Derek isn’t an idiot (all the time) and can definitely feel Will’s eyes boring into him.

“There’s no need to stare, William. Yes, this is still how I take my coffee.”

Damn him and his accurate assumption.

“A lot can change in four years.” William lifts his mug for a sip to hide the frown painting his features. They briefly talked about how they’re both at fault for their separation, but William feels particularly responsible, because he’s the one that ran away after all.

Senior Year Winter Break

Standing at the entry of the Nurse family home, Dex stares out the floor to ceiling windows displaying the city down below, and feels as if he just shattered said glass and is free falling down onto the Manhattan streets. What was he thinking? He just committed to a month-long free fall where the only end in sight is the concrete street ready to shatter Dex into pieces. 

“Dude hurry up! I want to order dinner.” Nursey yells from the kitchen.

With a thick swallow, Dex pulls himself out of his internal melt down and shoves it deep into the ripping, overfilled Box. He makes a mental note to duct tape the thing before it completely tears apart, before following the sound of Nursey’s off-tune humming.

The kitchen is larger than Dex’s family home, and so pristine it rivals the magazine covers of his moms favorite lifestyle issue. Connected in an open flow is the dining room, family pictures artfully hanging from the wall. He pointedly ignores looking at the (disgustingly cute) baby Derek photos in order to make it at least one day of this godforsaken break without succumbing to his heart's pathetic display of love.

Nursey hands over his phone for Dex to place his order. It’s a nearby Indian place, according to Nursey, so it’ll take less than an hour to get to the penthouse.

During the hour, Dex receives a grand tour that includes laughable commentary, and then Nursey is leading him to the guest bedroom so he can finally pack away his stuff. 

With the same dramatic flourish the rest of the tour was given in, Nursey whips the door open with a swooping arm gesture to accompany it. He’s looking at Dex the entire time, so he doesn't seem to get why Dex’s face pales and his mouth gapes open. Before Dex stands not a guest room, but a fully developed home gym.

His friend finally takes in Dex’s horror and turns to see what caused it. All that happens is that Nursey’s ears go red, and he lets out what Dex would call a squeak.

“They, uh, they must have finally built the home gym they’ve been talking about.”

“Ayuh.” Dex is in pure disbelief at the situation.

“Well, I guess,” Nursey’s ears proceed to get redder, and the back of his neck flushes in tandem, “I’ve got a queen sized bed. It’ll fit two for the night.”

Now it’s Dex’s turn to flush red, his pale skin making it impossible to hide. 

Nursey is, in this case unfortunately, a great friend and roommate, because he’s instantly offering that first thing tomorrow they’ll go buy an airmattress. Apparently, the couch is not comfortable to sleep on, and will only result in a crick in his neck. Why, why can this one time, Nursey not subject Dex to his illogical pranks and goading remarks and just send Dex to the couch for the night. He’s wholly unprepared for sharing a fucking bed with Nursey. At twenty-two years old, one would think he’d be more mature about the situation. Especially pointing out that they not only share a locker room most days, but also share a bedroom. They’ve seen each other in varying states of undress so many times over the last four years– sharing a bed to sleep in shouldn’t elevate Dex’s heartrate this much. 

Both of them are just standing at the ex-guest bedroom door with a stunted silence coating them. Thankfully, some higher being finally takes pity on Dex and the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of dinner. 

Food definitely alleviates a hefty chunk of the earlier tension, and the rest of the night follows rather smoothly. They clean up the kitchen in practiced ease, they joke and laugh with Chowder on face time, and they settle on the couch which is the size of a pool, thighs pressed together, for a movie.

About twenty minutes into the film, Nursey’s arm finds its way to the back support of the couch, his bicep cushioning the crown of Dex’s head. Nursey is a very touchy friend in general, but it still makes his heart stop to be so closely connected. Feeling a bit bold, or perhaps delusional, Dex takes the leg against Nursey’s and crosses that ankle across his opposite knee. Now most of his thigh is on top of Nursey’s in what Dex hopes is a fairly casual display.

Throughout the movie, they bicker over plot points or specific inaccuracies. They fall into their specific rhythm of banter and eccentric facial expressions that often makes their conversation end with a bout of laughter.  If the two of them became more entangled as the time passed, neither of them acknowledged it. 

Midnight rolls around. The city looks like stars and for the first time, Dex isn’t too upset about not being able to see Maine’s winter night sky. New York City’s one of a kind night and Nursey’s one of a kind friendship, Dex thinks to himself that this is where he wants to be some day.

With that thought in mind, settling down into the bed next to Nursey isn’t as stunted as he thought it would be. He can hear his own heartbeat and feel the heat on his cheeks, but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed when the evening feels right. 

The sidelamp gets flicked off. The only light being a faint illumination through the wispy curtains over the windows. Being so high up above the city, there’s no noise besides their settling breaths and the quiet hum of heat dispersing from the air vents. 

In the vulnerability surrounding him, he lays awake until he’s certain the man next to him has fallen asleep. He feels selfish for using the knowledge that Nursey sleeps like a rock, to peel the final layer off of Dex’s once-protected heart, but in the early morning hours, miles away from home, Dex whispers his confession into the cover of night.

“I think I’m in love with you, Derek.”

Tuesday

After breakfast, the two of them got into the intricacies of their fake relationship.

Here’s the story: when Derek moved back to New York at the start of this year, he reached out to Will to finally reconnect. The two picked up their friendship, but it (obviously) developed into something more. They agreed to keep the relationship on the down low because they both were settling into new professional roles at the time. Will, in this story, asked Derek out first. Derek said yes because of some sappy “I’ve always liked you” shit and have been dating for the past eight months.

After the rough draft of their dating history was finalized, Derek parted with an awkward “I should go home and work.”

They already had each other's contact information, so with little affair, Derek went home. 

Now, William stands squarely in his apartment, unsure how he’s to proceed.

They spent hardly a day and a half together, most of it kind of stilted, and he feels as if his heart hasn’t settled since picking up Derek’s panicked phone call. He feels as if his heart found a beat that it’s been missing for four years. He feels as if his heart remembers what it felt like that one December night four years ago, what it felt like to admit he loves Derek Nurse.

William wants. He’s standing alone amidst his single room apartment and he wants. He’s four years older than the coward who never talked to his best friend after he gave into a moment of weakness. William wants to make up for his mistakes that cost him Derek, wants to take this second chance and not fuck it up like he did on a drunken, memory stunted night. He wants and wants and wants. It’s so painful his chest seizes up, his breath chokes as he folds over clutching at his heart, crying over the love of his life he never let himself mourn the loss of.

It’s a random Tuesday in the largest city in the world, and he feels so alone crying in his run down apartment. He cries over the kid who was too afraid of pain, he cries over the man now facing the consequences of those actions. He’s to pretend to be Derek’s boyfriend to an unknowing audience that yes, it’s all an act, but it’s also not because his love for Derek is pouring from his body and into his willing hands.

The next month will be a unique kind of torture. William is choosing the pain of the situation at hand, he’s choosing the ache of a second chance in sight, he’s choosing to run away from his cowardice and let Derek know that William loves him. He has since the first time they put their arguments aside, and he does now in the confrontation of their mistakes.

Whether it’s been minutes or hours of crying, Will is unsure of. All he knows is that he wipes the tear tracks off his cheeks before pulling out his phone to call the only man who would understand his fears.

“Hey, Hon–”, Bitty notices his red rimmed and disheveled hair, “I’ll be there in a coupla’ hours with your favorite pie. I’ve got you, William.”

The next four hours pass in a haze, but eventually a knock sounds at the door before Bitty is entering with his own spare key. It’s well past dinner time now, and the smell wafting from the pie pulls a growl out of his stomach. Bitty comes over with a slice for each of them, and sits on the opposite end of the couch, back against the armrest facing Will. 

As they eat their pie, Bitty’s All Knowing Eyes observe the state he’s in, and notices the remnants of the past twenty-four hours scattered across his home.

With satiated bellies, William mimics Bitty’s position on his end of the couch, and lets the blond see what he needs to see, think what he needs to think, and ask what he needs to ask.

“I saw two mugs in the sink. One had creamer. I know you did the dishes when I left the other day.” It isn’t a question or an accusation, it’s an opening to admit what has Will so shaken.

Neither speaks.

A minute passes, Will unable to settle on a thought. 

“When was the last time you cried like that?” Bitty asks, definitely knowing the answer already.

“You know when.” William calls out, “Last time I cried like this was the day I left my family behind, the day I thought I’d finally be his.”

Bitty speaks with a softness many would translate as pity or unconvincing, but he knows that he speaks words born from a place of deep empathy and personal understanding. 

“Ya still love ‘im, don’t you? Ya still love Derek and somehow that realization came to and led us to this very heart to heart.” It isn’t anything other than the entryway to Williams' side of the story.

By the time he’s told Bitty all about the unexpected call followed by an even more unexpected request, and the half-said apologies, to the damn coffee taken with creamer, the pie is nearly gone and the city’s night crawlers begin showing face. Neon signs shine through his living room window, and the lamp in the corner reaches its muted light to meet the city halfway; a weird sense of past and present overwhelm William. He can hear his neighbors joyfully laughing down the hallway towards their door and something akin to hope bubbles under his ribcage. 

He’s unsure of what this hope means, or what it will bring, but he thinks that’s okay.

Bitty reaches across the couch to pat Will’s socked feet in a gesture of congratulations. 

“Ya know,” Bitty hums deep in thought, “Not everyone is afforded a secon’ chance, but you aren’t one ta spoil such an opportunity, are ya?” He smiles lopsidedly– knowingly.

“No, Bits, I’m not.” He covers Bitty’s hand with his own, “I say we get ready for bed now.”

Together they soak the dishes before brushing their teeth. In the quick decision to come back to the city, Bitty doesn’t have much else outside of his work bag, so William throws him an extra set of pyjamas that are ridiculously oversized. Despite being several inches shorter, Bitty offers his comforting arms to be big spoon, and cuddles Will like a mother who comforts her hurting child. 

William says his thanks for coming so last notice, and the embraced friends finally drift into the land of dreams. 

William sees images of perfect smiles, dark, smooth skin, a hazy picture of lovers tangled in the sheets, and green eyes wide with shock.

He wakes feeling more settled than he has in years.

End of Winter Break Senior Year

His ringing phone startles Dex awake. The time reads 7:13 in the morning and whoever is calling is about to face his wrath. By some grace above, he sees it’s his mother and decidedly doesn’t answer. He’ll deal with that later. Right now, he looks to the other side of the bed and indulges in the picture before him. Nursey (the motherfucker) sleeps shirtless on his back, legs to the side, arms pillowed around his head, and snores gently around the drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. Thankfully, Dex intercepted the call before it rang on long enough to wake Nursey. This has been his favorite part of the day, hell, a part of the entire break. He gets to take in Nursey’s beauty without judgement or embarrassment. 

After that first night of break, they had searched for an air mattress for three days with no luck. For some reason, every store in all of New York City ran out of inflatable beds. At some point, Nursey admitted defeat and suggested that they just share. It’s only for a month, and it isn’t like they don’t already share a room at school anyway. 

Choking on nothing, Dex agreed with a quick nod before walking into the penthouse and taking the coldest shower of his life. 

While the repressed homosexual side of Dex was nauseous at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as Nursey for a month, the side of him that was shedding its layers was overjoyed. On a couple of occasions they’ve woken with draped arms over hips or heads tucked against necks. Neither bring it up. 

Just as Dex is about to slip out of bed for morning coffee, Nursey unfolds his legs and lays truly flat on his back. The only thing covering him is the thin bedsheet and loose boxers, so Dex unfortunately witnesses Nursey’s morning wood while still half-laying under his arms. Dex is sure his face is the shade of Samwell red. 

Before the sight makes his stomach swoop or head spin, he rushes out of the bedroom.

Dex is a twenty two year old man! There is no reason an adult athlete should be so flustered over a hard-on. Hell, half the team is semi hard after practice most days because sometimes that's just what adrenaline does to you. Unfortunately for Dex, this isn’t his third-line freshman left side, it’s his very hot, very amazing defense partner slash best friend. 

He shuffles into the kitchen to start brewing the coffee. The city still shines as the main lightsource in the shortened winter days, so he flicks on the lamps in the corner. Fuck overhead lighting. The last scoop of coffee grinds falls into the filter and he can hear his phone aggressively buzzing against the countertop. Two calls in the span of a half hour.

The incoming calls from his mother have increased over the past few weeks. On the day Dex would typically arrive home for winter break, his mother texted him asking for his eta. Anxiety took the reins (as it similarly is now) and avoided the message as long as he could. Once he could no longer hold off the confrontation, he called his parents and admitted he wasn’t coming home. They bickered and reasoned for him to come home, or they’d come down to Samwell for the holidays but he squarely told them he was with a friend for break. Of course, they figured it was a teammate, and when they deduced it was Nursey, they practically lost their minds. God forbid a (non believing) catholic spend the Holy Days in the company of a practicing muslim. He ended that call with a quick “don’t bring it up again” before his parents could fall into a nasty stream of words. Since then, he’s been avoiding his mothers calls. 

Today is a new low, because by the time the sun has fully risen, she’s called another four times. On the fifth, he relents and accepts the call with an angry “What?!”

“That is no way to address your mother, William.” Her voice is shrill and rushed, “How dare you ignore your family during such a time of the year. That isn’t how we raised you.”

She continues to lecture and Dex lets himself zone out, waiting for his chance to finally get a word in. However, he heard Nursey’s name and offending words following, and something within him snaps. He’s been able to put up with his rancid family long enough, but he draws the line at it affecting those he cares about. 

“Get his name out of your mouth.” he quips.

His mother tries to interject with her disapproval, but Dex is livid and so beyond sick of hearing the same bullshit year after year.

“You listen here, mother.” he takes a deep breath before unleashing what he’s thought and felt for years now, “You are horrible! You are so full of hate, so full of disgust for your very own children. You slander them, talk ill against them and their friends. You push your unfulfilled desires upon them and rage when they deviate from your expectations. Nursey is my best friend, and him existing is enough for you to negate that fact! Maybe consider why I didn’t come home this year, hmm? Maybe I didn’t want to be bombarded on all sides with how I’m ruining my life with my sacrilegious teammates or gay captains. Well guess what?! I’m just carrying on tradition as another faggot captain!” 

Dex doesn’t fully comprehend all he’s said until there’s a soft gasp behind him. He turns to face Nursey and suddenly feels nauseous at all he’s done to his mother. He quickly cuts the call. He’s so, so fucked.

Not only is the panic beginning to rise because of his disobedience, but with Nursey’s eyes on him, Dex realizes this is the first time he’s told someone he’s gay outside of Bitty. 

Oh god, his family… his career…

The room around him is spinning, and it's become impossible to get air in his lungs. He must be pulling at his hair, because the sharp sting on his scalp feels like his only life line. He slides to the kitchen floor with numb fingers and toes.

Something is removing Dex’s hands from his hair, and he unknowingly lets out a panicked whine, unsure of how to stay a solid being in this spinning, floating world. Hands are now squeezing his in turn, and he hears the heating in the house take on a strange, repetitive pattern. The strangeness of the penthouse suddenly coming alive sends a jolt through Dex, but alas, he finds himself mimicking the pattern with his own breath. 

Dex doesn’t know how much time has passed when he opens his crusted eyes to see Nursey sat crisscrossed in front of him, rubbing his thumb atop of Dex’s shaking hands. The house is apparently not alive, it’s simply Nursey noisily breathing in for a few seconds before holding and releasing for the same amount of time. 

He feels as if he needs to explain something, apologize or whatnot. He’s got no idea. Thankfully, the weird cosmic connection between defense partners allows Nursey to guide him into the next steps.

“Hey man, glad you’re back with me,” His smile is sad, “I’m going to ask yes or no questions. Just nod or shake your head, is that okay?”

Dumbly, Dex nods along.

“Do you want to sit here for a bit longer?”

Nod.

“Is me touching you okay?”

Nod.

“Do you want me to be quiet?”

Shake.

“Okay. Do you want me to ask more questions?”

Shake.

“Last one, then. Do you want me to simply ramble about anything?”

Nod.

Nursey talks about who knows what, but as he does so he sits Dex against his chest on the floor, continuing to rub smoothing patterns over his hands. Once Dex has settled into a more neutral state, Nursey peels them off the cool floor and shuffles Dex to the bathroom. He goes ahead and starts the shower, steam slowly permeating the air. Nursey gives Dex a look that asks why he’s just standing there, and Dex realizes he should probably not wear his pyjamas into the shower. 

He starts stripping and Nursey hurriedly steps out of the bathroom with a “Shout if you need anything.”

The boiling water makes his numb limbs come back to life, and the sting centers him to breathe a little deeper than he was earlier. Despite having his own soaps with him, a background voice within him tells Dex that the next thing he needs is Nursey. Grabbing his body wash, Dex rinses the morning off of him before stepping out of the shower. Nursey must have come back at some point, because a pair of his sweats and Nursey’s favorite hoodie lay folded atop the sink counter.

He dresses. Every part of Dex smells like Nursey. His chest feels lighter than it has in weeks.

The smell of coffee draws him in. Nursey sits in the living room, one mug in hand, and a second one atop the low rise table in front of the couch. Noticeably, there aren't any sweeteners so he rightfully assumes the black coffee is his. For the umpteenth time, he takes his place right next to Nursey and lets their thighs press together. 

Once the pair is halfway through their cup and feeling tangibly more human, Nursey asks if Dex wants to talk about it. 

Does he? Nursey knows the TLDR about his family, but that phone call was a first row view to the shitshow. Dex has also been working hard to peel away those hardened layers and allow himself to trust, to feel. There’s also the elephant of Dex’s unintentional coming out sitting in the room. Emotional vulnerability sucks, but at this point he feels as if he has nothing left to lose.

“So um, I’m gay.” He snorts. What a conversation starter. 

“Well thank you for trusting me with that.” Nursey says it as if he didn’t hear it by accident a few hours prior.

Dex is realizing Nursey is allowing him to set the pace of the conversation, which he’s simultaneously agitated by, and thankful for.

“Other than Bitty, I haven’t told anyone that.”

“Shits hard to say, you know? Took me years to tell my literal lesbian mothers.”

Dex lets out another indignant snort, feeling his body mold to the couch, settling into the tell-all.

“Well, uh as you know, I don’t have lesbian mothers,” he jokes, “I have a very traditional mother and father. My dad is weak, and just follows whatever my mom says and does. She’s a priest yannow? Both of them are generationally orthodox; every Poindexter has been born and raised in that corner of Maine. I’m the first to leave it, first to get a degree higher than high school, first to look outside the dynamic we grew up in. Ever since starting at Samwell, my parents and I have had a strained relationship. I started to become less tolerant of their behavior, I started interacting with people they don’t approve of. But today, I guess I finally hit my limit. I don’t want my future to be held down by bloodline– I want a family that grows with me. And when she started insulting you, I lost it.” He pauses nervously, glancing at Nursey to see how he’s reacting to the retelling of the morning's events. It looks as if Nursey has tears in his eyes.

Hoping Dex isn’t reading the emotions wrongly, he continues, “You are my best friend, Derek. I would still be that same capital A Asshole without you. I never would have stayed at Samwell without you poking and prodding. You’ve made me the man I am today, how could I let anyone insult that? Each and every part of you is something to love– from your nerdy poetry, incessant lame humor, passionate relationship to your religion, to your dedication and drive for life.

Tears drop off Nursery's chin and all he does is nod and take Dex’s hand to interlace their fingers with a soft squeeze. Dex knows in that one action, all the thanks Nursey is trying to say. It’s rare his best friend is at such a loss for words. They sit there in grateful silence, hands locked together until the front door opens abruptly.

Standing in the doorway with wide eyes, staring at Dex and Nursey’s interlocked hands, stands his two lesbian mothers. He feels mortified. Before Dex can do anything, Nursey is bounding towards the two women to envelop them in a hug.

“I didn’t think you guys would be home yet!” Nursey giggles.

“Yeah, well, the final week of the vacation we had specifically planned with you in mind, so it just wasn’t the same.” The blond mom says. 

Nursey turns around, gesturing to Dex. “Meet my best friend, defense partner, and roommate, Willam “Dex” Poindexter! We’ve spent break together because of–” he then raises his eyebrows in an uninterpretable face. Apparently, his mothers understand said face and “Ahh I see” in response. 

“So, you’re the famous Dex we hear about every day.” The second woman says. This is definitely Nursey’s biological mother, they could be twins. 

Nursey seems to be blushing and stuttering for the right words. And Dex, being the asshole that he is, decides to fuck with Nursey further.

“Wow, every day, Nursey? I didn’t know I was so beloved in the Nurse household.” He says with a smirk.

Before Nursey can even consider a response, his blond mother, or Mom as Dex learns, is aiming for the kill.

“Oh, you’re the most talked about subject. We love hearing all about Dex this and Dex that.”

“Oh, yes. We’ve heard all about ‘His magic hands’ and ‘Insane athleticism’” his other mother, who he calls Yumma, says. 

Glancing over, Dex sees Nursey flushed a brighter red than ever, and nearly laughs in amusement. This must be what Nursey feels whenever he gets Dex to, quite easily mind you, blush. 

The teasing is not contained to just Nursey, however, and both mothers latch onto Dex and begin asking for every detail of the vacation–

Oh we don’t have a guest room anymore, have you been sleeping with Derek?

Wow! Derek has never brought a friend home before, you must be super special.

Thanks for keeping our son in such handsome company while we were away.

Tell us, has he been treating you well?

Ah! You smell just like our Derek!

Dex blushes more with each over-implied question and suggestion, and wishes he stayed in the shower this morning to drown.

At some point, Nursey saves both Dex and himself from further harassment. Nursey apologizes profusely for his mothers’ intrusions. They stay hidden away in Nursey’s room until dinner time.

They gorge on pizza and wings with an Islanders game on in the background. With a stuffed stomach, and a late evening, Dex looks over to unsurprisingly find Nursey fast asleep with his feet in his Yumma’s lap. The game murmurs quietly in the background.

All four of them had squished together on the sofa, Nursey jammed between his mothers, and Dex on the outside of his Mom. 

The stout blond woman turns her head to look at Dex, and he continues watching the television as casually as possible in order to stave off the awkward conversation he can sense coming.

Dex has never been a good actor though, and his Mom plows on. 

“You know, William, you are very special to our Derek.” It isn’t a threat, but there’s a motherly weight behind it nonetheless.

“He’s um, He’s important to me too, ma’am.” He stutters. 

His Mom laughs at the formality and ensures he can call them Mom and Yumma. Something about that makes his insides twist pleasantly but that’s for another day.

“He’s helped me become who I am now,” Dex starts with an awkward cough, “I wasn’t very good to him at first. But now, I feel as if he isn’t a part of my life, that my heart won’t beat the same.” Dex is shocked to find himself admitting such things to a practical stranger.

“You love him a lot, huh?”

Dex stays silent, but knows that his lack of words is answer enough for Mom and Yumma.

The last few days of break are spent with Nursey’s mothers spoiling them rotten, dragging them all over the city, and making the two blush like their lives depend on it.

After dozens of shared stories and traded jokes, the two boys settle in for their final evening of break. Without any fanfare, Dex and Nursey climb into the sheets together, holding on to one another as if it’s what best friends do every night for a full month. Dex falls asleep that night with an unknown future, but an understanding that he’s always going to have Nursey, and Nursey will always have Dex.

Thursday after work

Bitty was able to stay for the following two days. Together they game planned and sorted through the years of repressed emotions. Hours before Bitty left to catch the train home, William got a text notification from Derek asking to meet again. Will stared at his phone, unable to respond for a whole five minutes before Bits snatched it out of his hands and sent a reply confirming dinner at Derek’s place that very evening. In lou of a response, Derek sent the address.

It’s the address to his family penthouse. Dinner is apparently in the very home where Will came to the conclusion that he loved Derek, and always would. The same penthouse where his life course drastically changed. Fate really has a twisted sense of humor.

So now here William is, nitpicking his outfit and making sure the curls in his hair don’t look like he’s been running his hands through them every five seconds in fits of stress. Because yes, he has been doing so, but would appreciate his hair’s cooperation in not making it blatantly obvious. Ten minutes pass where he makes no progress taming the mop on his head, so he checks he has his keys and wallet, before stepping outside the apartment and locking up.

If he takes the train, it’ll take under ten minutes to get there, but Will thinks the cool, early November breeze will straighten out his anxious mind, so he decides to walk atop the subways and face the bustling city evening instead. It’ll only add five minutes to the commute anyway.

Streets that were once unfamiliar have become stitched into his mind's eye, and remembering the building from all those years prior, William leaves his phone tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. He shortly arrives at the towering building and slips inside to the lobby. He finally takes out his phone to message Derek for the elevator code and sees a message already on the screen, telling him that the passcode hasn’t changed. William has a good memory, an even better one when attached to his stupid sentimentality, so he punches in the code he memorized four winters ago and within a couple of minutes, he’s stepping into Derek's entryway. 

He’s standing there unsure of how to proceed because he let himself in, but soon enough Derek is rounding the corner from down the hall and bounds towards him and wraps Will into a tight hug. It isn’t necessarily unsurprising saying that their friendship before was quite physical, but it’s a pleasant surprise anyway. He hugs back and tucks his head into Derek’s neck. It takes all of his mental fortitude to not be a creep and take a sniff of Derek’s shampoo. They are just now reconnecting, and as he and Bitty concluded, William is not going to fuck up this second chance, especially not by taking in a deep breath of sandalwood and citrus. 

And of course, because fate has perpetually messed with William Poindexter, he opens his eyes to see two familiar women standing across the room with wide eyes in a twisted sort of deja vu. 

“Derek! You didn’t say your mothers would be here.” He hisses.

“William! It’s been too long.” Yumma says, making her way over to the pair.

Both women now hold facial expressions that sort of look like mischief but William notices an unreadable expression as their eyes flit between himself and Derek still standing in some sort of half hug. Yumma is pulling Will away towards the kitchen and as he’s dragged away he sees Derek's Mom slap him upside the head followed by a whiny “Ow!”

It’s now just William and Yumma in the kitchen. He feels almost dizzy, as if this is a dream of sorts. Or maybe a test of sorts. Why was he not informed his mothers would be here? Do they know William is a fake boyfriend? He doesn’t know what ground he can stand on. Yumma places a cup of chamomile tea with a dash of cream into his hands as if he isn’t floating loosely within his own mind.

Mothers have that weird sixth sense for reading your mind, in a very similar fashion to how Bitty does, and she chuckles as she pours her own hot water into a mug.

“I’m glad you said yes to being Derek’s boyfriend for the wedding next month.”

“Uh…” They know?! Good to know his internal breakdown was for nothing, “Well I– We didn’t– It’s my fault. I need to make it up to him.”

“It isn’t your fault. Don’t say it is!” She rushes before he can counter otherwise, “He’s not at fault either. You two were just young and dumb. We’ve been pushing him for years to get his head out of his ass. Even now, it's all ‘Will this, William that.’”

“So you two are why he called me to pretend to be his boyfriend?”

“Yes, and no.”

William is thoroughly confused. Happy accidents never happen to him, so why is it that these two women he’s only met a handful of times, have pulled strings for him all these years later? Why would they put the heart of their son in the hands of a man who ran away after opening the door. A man who gave into his anxieties, insecurities, and cowardice and then made sure he closed that door shut on his way out. He knows he hurt Derek in his escape plans. If, as the one who enacted those plans, William has hurt so bad his heart no longer beats right, he can’t imagine the amount of pain he put Derek through. What a best friend Will is– was.

Why is it now, four years after William kissed Derek for the first and only time before bolting all the way out of the state, that the damaged one is the one making amends? 

Before he spills his guts like he tends to do around these women, he takes another sip of tea. Thankfully, Mom and Derek join them in the kitchen. He’s now playing catch-up on the past four years of his life, similar to last week when he first met up with Derek after the phone call. 

In turn he hears about their travels and such, the wines they recommend, how Derek’s cousin met their bride-to-be, etc. At some point, the four of them found their way to the couch with a hodge-podge of crackers, cheeses, fruits, and more. Dinner ends up being a weird charcuterie board and wine glass affair as they all laugh around over the absurdity of the situation. 

“I mean–” Derek is wheezing with laughter, “How were we so dumb!?”

“Derek, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for years!” Mom crossed her arms with a theatrical huff, “But really you two, we’re glad you’re reconnecting now. It’s better late than never. Yumma and I are going to call it a night, but please, hang around as long as you’d like.”

It’s now just Derek and himself on the expansive couch and half-filled wine glasses. Without a spoken word, William grabs the wine bottle from the coffee table at his feet and reaches across to top off Derek’s glass with the remainder of the bottle. A gentle half smile and a not-so-subtle scooch closer is all the thanks William needs. 

They sit in sticky-sweet silence, the red wine makes their skin feel warm and vulnerable like putty, and their breathing feels heady in the small space left between them. William is unsure whether the weight of the moment is from the pounding behind his ribcage or the two generous glasses of wine he’s had. Either way, his body is deliciously buzzed, and his mind feels crystal clear focused on the man next to him. 

“Derek–”

“William, I–” they speak at the same time in near whispers. He can hear Derek swallow thickly as his eyes dart around William's face.

Reaching out his freckled hand slowly, giving the other time to stop if wants to, William begins to cup the side of Derek's face. It’s got stubble from a full day ending, and there’s a scar near Will’s pinky where he got cut by a branch playing pickup hockey on the pond. His lips are lightly stained red, and his green eyes are dark with dilated pupils. Will can feel him take another swallow. Will owes Derek more than words can make up for, but it’s a start.

“Let me talk first, please.” William pleads, desperate to apologize, to explain how naive he’s been, to shoulder the hurt he’s placed on the most important person in his life.

Derek looks nearly starstruck as he gives a slow but sure nod.

“I’ll start by saying none of what I did is a valid reason, or excuse or what have you…”

Spring midterms senior year.

After returning to school after break, routine settled its way into Dex again. Classes, practice, wrangling insane freshman, coaches meetings, yada yada yada. The only two differences to the routine he’s maintained all these years are that, more nights than not, Dex and Nursey fall asleep in the same bed, and that Dex has daily voicemails from varying family members demanding he do x, y, or z. 

One of these makes him want to explode. Well, actually, both do, albeit in drastically different ways. No, the one making him explode here is absolutely his fucked up family. He knew the consequences of his speech would be egregious but seriously, they’re being unreal. No, he’s not going to come home in his last semester, no, he isn’t going to apologize, and yes, he’s blatantly ignoring them. After the first five voicemails from his mother, he decidedly stopped listening, not particularly enjoying hearing his own mother calling him a “wretched heathen” and “disgraceful faggot”. 

Nonetheless, the calls persist and he continues in blissful (well sort of) ignorance. 

He personally thinks he’s handling the situation well. And sure, it’s why most nights he indulges in sleeping in Nursery's bed, surrounded by that woody, citric scent that calms something within Dex. And okay, it’s why he’s letting the boundaries bleed between them and to cope with the vulnerability he’s newly displaying, he’s baking one too many pies. So many pies even, that either someone snitched on him, or Bitty truly has some wicked power to sense disturbance in the pie universe because he’s just woken up next to Nursey, the day after midterms concluded, with Bitty himself glaring down at him with one hand on his hip.

“Oh, fuck me.” Dex rolls his eyes and silently follows Bitty downstairs.

“Ya wanna explain f’rst, or let me take my guesses?”

Before Dex even opens his mouth, his former captain continues on in a light tone that doesn’t indicate sweetness by any means.

“Guess one: Yer in love with a one Derek Nurse, hence why I found ya cuddled up in bed together. The rumors of you two sleepin’ together in the fall ain’t a joke then. Damn, now I owe Shits ten dollars. That’s besides the point.”

Dex’s mouth is agape and his mind is spinning. How, where, why is that a rumor? He and Nursey don’t remember that night therefore it didn’t happen. Bitty’s words are bringing flashes through his mind that he’s not had before. All of them are hazy and blurred, as if recalled through a drunken state, but he is certain that the person atop him and gently prepping him, is his defense partner, best friend, and (apparently not fully unrequited) repressed homosexual crush. Jesus Christ, him and Nursey did have sex. Good job to Dex’s dumb brain for remembering something months after the fact.

Bitty finally stops his ramblings and takes in the state Dex is in. He's got no clue what he looks like, but if he looks how he feels, Dex likely doesn’t look great.

“Oh shit. That’s probably why it stayed a rumor. Okay, Dex, Hon, ya with me?”

He stutters through a large inhale and meets Bitty’s wide, sympathetic eyes.

Bitty reads something that causes him to wrap Dex up in a hug. 

Somehow, they make their way to the porch out back, and sit on the creaking wood, huddled together to stave off the crisp, early spring air. The world around them is still waking up– dew drops coat the overgrown grass and a handful of birds still sing their morning songs. Fog hides away the corners of the yard with a promise of keeping the following conversation between Bitty and Dex only. There’s so many places he could start, so many reasons to not do so. But bullshitting Bitty is impossible, and Dex does realize how close he is to exploding. Maybe this will put out the match.

“I stayed with Nursey over winter break. We haven’t talked about it. Until now, neither of us had confirmation from the fall so we dropped it, until winter break, we didn’t fall asleep together most nights.”

“Then, what's changed?”

“Other than you, no one knows I’m gay. I got into a screamer with my mother, came out to her and him in one swoop. Since then, I don’t know. We’re practically worse than Ransom and Holster, huh? Anyway, since then my family is leaving voicemails that rival a locker room and I keep ignoring it. I ignore it by going to Nursey every night, I ignore it because if I imagine that him and I mean something more, then it doesn’t matter what my family thinks.”

“William, no amount o’ pies is gonna fix this. Believe me you, I’ve tried. Ya want just an ear, or advice?” Bitty asks.

That’s the kicker isn’t it? Bitty will be damn near brutal in his advice, he won’t tip toe around the course of action. But he trusts his captain, and he trusts himself to know that this is what he needs. He hums in response, and Bitty lays it down.

“Cut contact with yer family if they ain’t gonna love ya fer you. Go after the ones that do, hold onto the people that know ya deep down and ain’t afraid to bring home fer winter break. You’ve got me, and the Haus 2.0 crew, and yer two weird ass best friends. Ya gotta do wha’cha think is gonna make you happy.”

He knows Bitty is right. Dex doesn’t know what the last half of his final college semester will look like, but he knows it’ll have significantly less stress pies. 

The two of them spend a good hour on the porch after, only getting up for the ache in their asses and the desire for caffeine. He’s greeted in the kitchen by the sight of a still shirtless, sleep-mussed Nursey. He may not know everything he needs to do in the next few weeks, but now he’s sure that he’s going to finally clear the air with Derek.

Weeks pass. Games are won and lost. They don’t win the championships, but he’s okay with that because they still made the top four, and demonstrated a wicked season. Graduation is two days away with only one thing in his future clear.

Just as Dex is about to leave his room to find Nursey, and finally, finally confess everything, the man himself walks into the room.

“Oh, hey! I was looking for you– can we talk?” Nursey’s faux chill is poorly concealing his nerves.

Dex, the absolute lovestruck fool that he is, is already sitting on Derek’s bunk so he pats the spot next to him. Nursey sits as close as humanly possible without actually sitting on his lap. Nursey idly plays with Dex’s fingers as they sit in silence for a minute.

“William, I–”

“Derek–” they say at the same time.

“You go first, Nurse.”

Nursey clears his throat.

“I– wow this is scary,” he lets out an anxious huff, “Will I– you are my best friend. But this year, it’s felt different; we’ve been different.” And god, his voice is so soft, and he’s got this look on his face as if the memories he’s recalling are the best memories a man could have. “Dex, I think I’ve fallen in love with you.” His smile is blinding, radiant, Dex feels the warmth spreading on his skin. He can’t think– he never suspected this is what would happen in this conversation. They’d been talking the past couple of weeks about Dex spending summer in the city with him and his mothers, Dex figured this was related.

As for many athletes, the body is faster than the mind. Before a thought crosses his mind, Will is cupping his face and kissing Derek like there’s nothing left to lose. The response is immediate and hands clutch against the back of his shirt and roam the expanse of his muscles. He doesn’t know who opens their mouth first, but their tongues are sliding together in a rhythm so natural, one wouldn’t realize this is only their second time kissing. It’s as if their bodies are made to slot together, to smooth out shoulders, interlock fingers, grip at hair. The kiss is more than Dex would have ever imagined. Hands guide him to sit on Nursey’s lap. With his neck now exposed freely to Nursey, they break apart.

Will throws his head back with closed eyes, torso flush to Nursey’s waiting body as his wet tongue traces the hinge of his jaw, back to behind his ears.

“William James Poindexter!”

He scrambles off Nursey’s lap faster than seemingly possible to see his mother standing at the door of their bedroom, face flushed furious. Chowder stands nervously behind her out of breath like maybe he tried to stop her. He’s a good guy, he likely did try.

Before his mother can open her mouth and shout obscenities he grasps her wrist and starts leading her out of the house. He’s no doubt causing a ruckus for the few players hanging around the Haus for the last few days but this will get so much worse if he doesn’t nip it in the bud.

Together, they stumble into that cursed backyard– why does Dex keep finding himself on this fucking porch? 

“What are you doing here?!” he’s nearly shouting, struggling to contain his anger, his fear.

“What am I doing here, William? Your graduation is this weekend and we didn’t get invites all because of your selfish tantrum! Well we came anyway, we deserve to see you graduate, even if you’ve become a failure of a son.”

Raking a hand through his hair, he turns away from the woman in front of him without a clue on how to proceed. Apparently there isn’t a need to, because his mom keeps up her tangent, either unaware or not caring about the small crowd gathering. Oh, perfect, Bitty, Shits, Jack, all of them just got in to witness the show!

“Stop,” He can feel the angry tears welling up behind his eyes and prays that he can control them until this nightmare ends, “You listen to me for once. I’m done with you, I’m done with the family. My whole life, I have disappointed you simply by breathing– no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough for you. And then, you learn about who I am and proceed to harass me for months! You aren’t going to change and I’m not dragging myself through that. So, what you’re going to do is go back to Maine and stay there. You won’t try to text me or call me. You won’t get to know where I go in the future, and you won’t speak another word to my face. You’re right, I am not your son. But know this: you sure as hell aren’t my mother.”

He’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling painfully. The tears in his eyes are starting to slip past his pale lashes and he’s about one second away from breaking down and losing the argument. Just this once, Dex is glad a crowd gathered, because Shitty and Jack swoop in to usher his stammering, seething mother out the yard and assuring she’s sent off.

He’s hunched over, sobbing into his hands. Everyone else scatters. He cries into his hands. This must be some twisted cosmic joke. He cries into his hands while the sun sets behind the horizon. He cries into his hands until they’re forced to wrap around Bitty’s smaller frame somehow tucking in Dex’s overwhelming height. He stands in his captain’s embrace until there’s no more tears to cry. They needn’t say anything. Bitty knows the unknown world he’s walking towards. 

“Ya can stay with Jack and I, if ya needt’a.”

At twenty-two, William feels as if it’s his first day on earth. He feels the ingrained cowardice, the sewn in fear, the generational anxieties swarm through him. At each horrid thought, William rebuilds the walls that protected his heart and led him to his current sorrow. Each brick is haphazardly thrown back together so that he can leave behind what has led him to this moment with minimal scarring. Will knows, he knows, that every sideways glance, every unspoken promise, each quiet moment with Derek is what made him tear those walls down in the first place.

He also knows it’s outrageously unfair to say that is how he ended up here, broken and afraid on this heavy night.

All his stuff is packed already, so Jack and Shitty load it into Bitty’s truck, and without another word to his defense partner of four years, his roommate of two, and his most important friend, William is moving onto the next phase of his life. He won’t look back.

Friday, sometime past midnight

“Your mothers put it perfectly: I was young and dumb. I know that my fear, my hurt, isn’t a reason to ignore you all these years. At some point, it wasn’t about my hurt, it was about how I knew I hurt you, and in my embarrassment I stayed away. Derek, I am so deeply sorry. And, if you’ll let me, I would like to be friends again. I’ve missed you so badly that my chest hollows out and I drift through my days knowing something is missing– that you’re missing, Nurse.”

Their hands are still slowly dancing together but Derek cusps both of Williams in his, and looks boldly, truthfully into William’s eyes.

“I was young and dumb too. I let my anxieties fester, and think that I scared you off. Like you, at some point it was just embarrassment. I went so long thinking I had upset you, that it would be stupid for me to reach out all that time later.”

Both of them have glistening eyes and sad smiles. One heavy night that couldn’t bear the weight of their confessions nearly cost them each other. Here they are, four years older and wiser, with a second chance both of them have realized they’ve gotten.

It’s chanting through his mind love me, love me and I love you, I love you. 

It’s slipping off his lips and into the minimal space between them. Derek is promising his own I love you, I love you in response, latching onto Will’s heart to bring him forward. Their lips meet for the third time, and the saying is right, that this time it’s the charm.

His body is alight, it’s in the act of redefining itself, it’s discovering that this is where home is. 

It’s silly. They’re kissing in the penthouse where William realized he’s in love with Derek. Derek, who is kissing him back on the couch of the house he grew up in. 

William is about to deepen the kiss like it’s the only thing that matters, when an old, hazy memory flashes before him, and he pulls away with a gasp.

“Derek!”

He stops immediately, worry apparent on his face.

“It isn’t anything you’ve done,” William prefaces before unbidden laughter bubbles within, “Fall semester, senior year. We did it.”

Derek’s face is the definition of a loading spiral for a solid fifteen seconds before his own gasp breeches the air, and his hand moves to cover his shocked face.

William can’t help the laughter finally spilling over, uncontrollable and vibrant and natural.

“Do you remember that morning Bitty showed up to scold me for stress baking too many pies?”

“Yeah? How does that relate to us having sex?” He’s shocked and holding back his own laughter but his eyes beg Will to finish the story. 

“Well, instead of letting me explain first, why I was stress baking that is, he did that thing where he starts to like, psychoanalyze you, and he says something like ‘I think yer in love with Nursey which makes sense there was some rumor ab ya two hookin’ up in the fall.’” He says the requote with a poor rendition of Bitty’s southern drawl and promptly wheezes after, “And of course, after months of zero memory whatsoever, whatever Bitty said triggered a memory of you on top of me, prep–” He cuts himself off with a squeak and flushes face, his hand now covering his own face. God, he’s so embarrassed.

“Can I?” Derek is now hovering above Will, his eyes blown wide with love and lust.

Needing Derek after all these years, there’s nothing he wants more, nothing that would finally fill the hollow in his chest better, nothing else that would finally eradicate his halfass protective barrier once and for all. 

“Yes. Please, I need you, Derek.”

“You have me.”

Their lips connect once again, and there’s no longer a fourth, then a fifth kiss, they all bleed together as desperate lips part to explore each other's mouths. With as little separation as possible, the two stumble their way into Derek’s bedroom. 

It’s a flurry to shed clothes and collapse in bed in just their boxers. Derek is on his back, splayed out against the dark brown comforter. He’s visibly kiss-drunk, erect, and blushed. Will isn’t one prone to the arts, but he’s pretty sure the sight before him is an image worthy of countless praises. Selfishly, thankfully, he’s glad he’s the only one who gets to see Derek like this from now on. 

His body has changed beautifully in time’s hands, his stomach is softer and hairier, and his arms, while still strong, have lost the rigid definition surrounding them. Derek’s legs are almost difficult to straddle, their power still palpable after all this time. He’s more gorgeous than ever. William spends time on each evolved feature, biting down before sliding his tongue over the indents to soothe. The entire time that Will mouths along his body, Derek is stroking Will’s hair, or trailing connections between freckles, or saying how much he’s missed him, how much he loves him.

With a needy yes, Derek lets William strip him of his boxers, then moves to take off his own. William rests his full weight along the length of Derek’s body while he kisses his lips once again. Their erections brush together, just enough friction to beg for more. 

Together, they flow between hasty, devouring heat and languid, holy touches. In a moment of heat, Derek flips them over, pinning William against the mattress before sliding Will’s entire length down into his throat. That skillful tongue that speaks prose as if breathing, that wet heat that’s now bringing William to the edge of bliss. He pulls Derek off before he can come, self torture in order to experience the reward of delayed gratification later.

“Now, please.” William is shy of begging, but his voice pitches nonetheless.

Derek procures lube and a condom from the nightstand. He drizzles lube onto his fingers, then spreads William’s legs further apart using his clean hand. A single digit circles his rim, gently teasing and pushing in early preparations.

“Can I?” He asks again, pushing his pointer against his hole without breeching.

In answer, William slides his hips towards Derek by a fraction, causing his finger to finally enter. 

Reverent gasps are traded as each finger is worked in with patient desire. Three fingers brush against his prostate on every thrust and praises keep spilling from Derek’s lips as William pants and moans. 

It’s been four years since he last kissed Derek, and years more spent loving him, so William pulls Derek up to eye level to kiss him as signal to go ahead and fuck him.

They separate only so Derek can peel open the foil and roll the condom down his length. A little more lube and then Derek’s slowly pushing into Will.

The last piece of their shattered puzzle has finally been found. Together they’ll build the image together again, shard by shard until whole. Every thrust of Derek’s hips, every moan spilt between their touching mouths, has William’s pleasure mounting towards conclusion.

“F-fuck, Derek– I’m so– ah– so close.”

“I’m not far either.” He’s sweating and panting, eyes never leaving Williams as they each chase one another.

“I love you– ah, I love you, I love you–” The mantra breaks free and repeats like a well-worn record.

Derek comes with his lips around those three repeating syllables but keeps going, stroking Will’s cock in tandem for two, three strokes, before his own I love you has William coming too.

Lungfuls of air pass between them as they lay stuck together with sweat and exhaustion. All they do is let their highs settle around them with pecks on the cheeks and hands squeezing periodically.

After a while but before a chill spoils their bliss, they stalk into the shower touching in some way, shape, or form. Tired hands lovingly spread soap to clean up the evidence of their story finally beginning.

Neither of them bother with clothes, slinking into the bed once again. They lay facing each other, legs laced together and arms stroking the others. Despite the late hour and heavy eyelids, they can’t seem to fall asleep as they talk about nothing and everything. All their burdens have been laid down between them, their worries, grievances, hopes placed into the deep blue nighttime sky so that they aren’t the only two shouldering them. The same city lights, the same onyx sky, the eight years connecting Derek Nurse and William Poindexter together, blanket them in the peace they’ve searched for.

Sleep draws them in, and finally, the steady night welcomes them.

Two years later

Six years have passed since Will and Derek kissed for the first time (second time, actually), and while William normally enjoys keeping track of things, always knowing order, he doesn’t mind that he’s lost count of all the times they’ve kissed since. 

He remembers the night that kick started their journey towards forever. He’d convinced Derek to dance with him and they did so until the sweat soaked through their shirts. They’d stumbled away from the center of the party to sit on the Haus’ weathered back porch and for some reason or another, they laughed until they couldn’t breathe. 

Derek, young and eccentric, laughed so loud, so fully, his head tipped up towards the sky with squinted eyes, and in that moment all Will could think was love me, love me despite not yet knowing why he craved so. 

And now, he knows. He knows because he’s loved Derek for a third of his life as of this day, and he knew that Derek loved him right back. That Derek continues to love him back. That they were meant to be together in every timeline and lifetime. 

The mantra has never stopped. Together, he and Derek continue on with a shared promise.

I love him, I love him, I love him.

And

I love you too, I love you too, I love you too.