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Derek’s on his way to getting schwastey, cup of tub juice in one hand as he waits in line for a chance at the pong table. He doesn’t have a partner yet, but Chowder and Farmer are on Nursey Patrol (he dances on a table one time and this is what he gets) and all he’ll have to do is bat his eyelashes and a partner will appear. Of course, Dex would be the prime option, but the dude seems to avoid him at Haus parties. Or maybe Nursey Patrol forces them to avoid each other. Derek isn’t sure what the answer is, but he obviously doesn’t care. Everything is chill.
That doesn’t mean he’s not trying to find Dex in the sea of drunken college students. It doesn’t take long to find him, his red hair like a fucking beacon, even as he slouches in the shadows.
“Billy!”
Derek watches as a girl charges Dex, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. His stomach twists, but he ignores it, more interested in the way Dex’s flush is already fading and there’s this fond smirk playing about his mouth. The girl doesn’t really look like Dex’s type (not that Derek is even aware of his type), she looks like Rans’ type maybe - with killer curves and long strawberry blonde hair. There’s just something about her, and Derek knows this isn’t something he can stay out of. C and Farmer seem to be very focused on staring into each other’s eyes (gag), and they don’t even notice when Derek ducks off into the crowd.
Dex doesn’t even see him coming, too focused on the girl waving her hands in front of him. The look on his face is foreign, this fond ease that Derek would never associate with Dex… ever. He can’t help but wonder who this girl is and how she manages to get William Poindexter to smile like that.
“Yo Poindexter!” Derek calls as he nears the pair, blinking with surprise when both Dex and the girl turn to look at him.
He might be a little bit drunker than he thought.
Because this girl…
This girl looks just. Like. Dex.
“Who are you?” She asks, giving him a very obvious once over.
“Oh my god, Kat.” Dex hides his face behind his hands, blush appearing in full force, but Derek’s too busy looking at this chick to really notice. She’s got the same nose as Dex, same flush and freckles on her cheeks and the same mouth (oh god why does he even know that). But her eyes are bright blue and her hair’s less offensively ginger, and well, Dex does not have boobs like that. Not that his chest isn’t great. Because it is. And he’s got all these freckles and sometimes Derek wants to play connect the dots and yeah, definitely more drunk than he thought.
“Derek Nurse,” Derek smiles and holds his hand out to the girl. She shakes it, her grip stronger than he expects and her smirk widening to a grin. “How do you know Dex?”
“The first time I met Billy-”
“Kat please don’t.”
“He was buck ass naked and screaming bloody murder and trying to get a boob in his mouth.”
“I fucking hate you Katherine.” Dex seems to be getting closer and closer to the fetal position by the second. The girl grins even wider.
“Kat Poindexter, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Nursey.”
Derek blinks a few times, confused by the tone she’s saying his name in and the way Dex is glaring at her between his fingers.
“Sister?” He asks after a moment, looking to Dex, who nods and grimaces.
“Unfortunately. I don’t even know why she’s here.” Dex yelps when Kat punches him in the arm, face slipping into a pout reminiscent of a toddler.
“You know Morgan’s at BC dumbass,” Kat sighs, chugging the rest of whatever’s in her cup. “She’s been talking to some guy here… Adam maybe? I don’t know.”
“That’s great.” Dex rolls his eyes, gaze shifting warily between Derek and his sister. “Well, you really don’t need to-”
“You should bring Nursey home with you for Family Night.”
“I don’t-”
“Mom would love to have him. What do you say?” Kat turns to Derek with a wide grin, obviously ignoring her brother’s spluttering. “Our mom’s a bomb cook. You'll have to bunk with Billy but I doubt he'll mind.” She looks even more proud of herself when Dex groans, smiling so hard her cheeks look like tennis balls.
“Um, okay?” Derek offers, unsure if this is really okay with Dex or not. It's not like he's looking for an excuse to spend more time with his d-line partner or anything… Except he kind of is.
“Great!” Kat slaps her brother on the shoulder and smirks at Derek. “See you next week!” She skips off before either can say anything else, bee lining towards where Ransom and Holster are chatting with a tall dark haired girl.
“So-”
“Yo Nurse!” Lardo’s yell cuts him off. “Get your ass over here! You're on my team!” Derek nods, and when he looks back to Dex, he's gone.
Dex seems to avoid him for the next week, purposefully sitting between Bitty and Chowder in the dining hall, and making up excuses every time Derek tries to talk to him. But he still responds to texts, and when Derek asks him about family night, he actually seems okay with it? If Derek were a more excitable person he might assign some meaning to this but you know, it's nothing.
Nonetheless, he finds himself inexplicably nervous as he follows Dex out to the freshman parking lot. Dex appears to be oddly calm, and that in itself is making Derek nervous. Dex is a lot of things, but chill is definitely not one of them.
“You're acting weird,” Dex says as he tosses his duffel bag in the back of his faded blue Ford Ranger. “You don't have to come you know.”
“Dude chill.” Derek says it just to see Dex’s eyes narrows. “It's cool.”
“Whatever.” Dex slams the door a little too hard, but his expression is clear by the time Derek joins him in the cab.
They ride in silence, but it's actually comfortable, the radio playing softly in the background and the spring breeze ruffling Dex’s hair. Derek finds himself staring, drawn to the tendons of Dex’s neck and the freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. There's something about Dex that makes Derek’s heart feel light and his nerves sing. He reminds him of skates cutting across untouched ice, of waves crashing on the shore and Central Park in the fall. Dex is the worst, but Derek has never gotten so much enjoyment out of arguing with another person in his life. And it's gotten better since September. They click on the ice now and voluntarily spend time together, and sometimes, sometimes Derek can't help but touch him. Sure, it's innocent enough, noogies and shoulder bumps and you know, bro shit. Derek doesn't think Dex would be able to handle anything else. He is a member of Samwell Republicans after all. But Derek wants. He tries not to, he really does, but he's found himself thinking about it more than once, connecting Dex’s freckles with his tongue, biting hickies into the pale skin of his neck.
Out of the blue Dex reaches over and turns the radio way down, rolling down his window and hanging his arm out. Derek watches as he takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he lets it out with a soft sigh. He looks blissed out, and Derek wants to sketch it, or write about it, memorialize the sunshine dappling his face. It takes a few minutes for Derek to recognize the smell of saltwater, to hear the screaming gulls and waves crashing against rocks. Dex doesn't look like a person that would be associated with a beach (blonde and tan and totally chill) but for some reason it fits.
They pull up in front of a modest two story home, with toys scattered across the front lawn and messy flower beds overflowing with plants that have not yet greened up. There's a bunch of cars in the driveway, but Derek is more concerned with how Dex’s face goes abruptly pale before turning an alarming shade of maroon.
“Oh no.”
“Dex?” Dex doesn't answer, his cheeks maintaining a dangerous purple flush as he stares at the green and white dirt bike parked along the curb. “Bro… Everything okay?” Dex groans and buries his face his hands, fingers shaking as he pushes them through his short hair. He kicks open the door without answering, apparently planning on Derek just following his lead. Which no, Derek do not sign up for this. He'd like to know what he's walking into thanks. Normally he'd just tell Dex that, but the dude looks like he's about ready to burst, so he's not going to push it.
Dex pauses on the front step, one hand curled around the door knob.
“I'm just going to apologize right now,” he mumbles into the door, the tips of his ears darkening. “But this is going to be a shit show.”
“Dex, what?”
Instead of answering, Dex pushes open the door.
The sound of warm mom laughter hits Derek first, followed closely by the scent of frying onions. While the laughter is something he's used to, the smell of home cooking is almost foreign. His moms tended to favor take out, and Bitty only ever bakes, and in a word, it's heavenly. Of course, the fact that Dex looks seconds away from smoke coming out of his ears kind of takes away from the atmosphere.
“Billy? Is that you?” Dex’s mom comes bustling out of the kitchen, faded red hair curling at the temples and a soft smile on her face. ”Derek honey, it's so great to see you again!” She sweeps Derek into a warm hug, smelling of lavender and baby powder and love. “Kat’s picking up the little ones, she should be here soon,” she continues, releasing Derek and moving on to Dex. “And your father just called me and said he’s just finishing up at the dock.”
“Mom is Mack-”
“Hey Will.”
At the sound of a strange voice, Derek’s entire world slows to a stop. There's a boy standing behind Mrs. Poindexter, and he's looking at Dex in a way that makes Derek’s stomach twist.
“Mack…” Derek watches in slow motion as Dex forces a smile over his mother’s shoulder, flushing all the way to the roots of his hair.
“Oh and I ran into Mack at the store last night and of course had to invite him,” Mrs. Poindexter continues as if she's blissfully unaware of the weird tension filling the room.
“That's uh… Mom can you let me go? Me and Nursey need to put our stuff upstairs.” Dex seems to be growing steadily more uncomfortable, his nostrils flaring and his eyes getting wider by the second. Derek has the strangest urge to hug him, to wrap his arms around him and rub his back. It's the actual worst.
“Oh of course dear!” Mrs. Poindexter smacks a kiss against Dex’s cheek. “Hurry back! We have a lot of catching up to do!”
Dex laughs but it's all wrong, and Derek has to practically run to keep up with him as he takes off up the stairs. It's all very weird, and Derek is of course trying to remain chill, but Dex, as usual, is making it very difficult.
Dex ushers him into his bedroom, Star Wars posters covering the walls and CDs stacked in the corner. It's neat, which is to be expected from Dex, but soft in a way that makes Derek feel more comfortable than he thinks he should be. His bag hits the floor with a thud, but it's not loud enough to cover the sound of the door slamming shut.
“Dude…” Derek trails off at the sight of Dex sliding down the door, forehead coming to rest on his knees. It's wrong, it's all wrong, and Derek just wants to fix it. “Dex… Will… Are you, what's the matter?”
Dex swears under his breath, only looking up when Derek crouches in front of him.
“Mack’s my ex.”
Derek blinks, once, twice, toppling back on his ass on the worn carpet. That is not what he was expecting. Because Mack… Dex has never mentioned being anything other than straight. “Well, my mom doesn't know that.” Dex continues, hands covering his eyes. “We were best friends before and then we were, you know.”
Derek swallows, hard, because Mack has dark skin and a mop of curls and light eyes and… He looks like Derek. A lot like Derek. Like, their faces are different, but still, the similarities cannot be ignored.
“How long were you guys…A thing?” Derek asks gently, bumping his ankle against Dex’s.
“Um,” Dex tilts his head back against the door, exposing the length of his throat. “We started dating junior year and um, we were still dating when I started at Samwell but then I, um.” He pauses, cheeks flaring red again. “I kind of started liking someone else so I um, broke it off.”
“Oh.” Derek didn't know Dex had a boyfriend when they first met, never mind that he'd apparently had feelings for a person at Samwell for most of the year.
“Yeah. This fucking blows.”
A silence falls between them, broken only by the clanking of dishes and soft voices seeping beneath the door. There's so many things Derek wants to ask, about Dex liking boys, about Mack looking like him, about the tattered stuffed animal placed carefully on Dex’s pillow. But he can’t find it in himself to chirp him, not when Dex looks so vulnerable, amber eyes fluttering closed whenever Derek tries to make eye contact.
“You’re not chirping me,” Dex mumbles after a moment, tilting his chin down and narrowing his eyes. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Dude chill,” Derek smirks, satisfied with the dramatic eye roll he gets in return. “I’m just like trying to process this. I thought you were like straight man, this is like a paradigm shift for me.”
“Seriously Nurse.” Dex gives him the flattest look he’s ever seen, like he thinks Derek is the oblivious one here. But Jesus Christ, it’s not like the dude’s ever even hinted at being attracted to guys, more like the opposite. “You’re like the one person who -- oof” Dex bounces forward, his bedroom door pushing hard against his back.
“Let me in jack ass,” Kat hisses through the crack in the door, winking at Derek. Dex groans but crawls out of the way, collapsing on his stomach on the floor. “What the fuck is Mack doing here?” Kat continues as she closes the door behind her, eyebrows dancing as she stares down at her brother. It looks like she’s fighting back a smirk, but when Dex groans again, pity takes its place. “Want me to go tell him to leave?”
For the first time in his life Derek finds himself wishing he had an older sister, looking at the fierce protectiveness hardening Kat’s features, bright blue eyes flashing dangerously. Her love is almost palpable, and there’s no doubt in Derek’s mind that she wouldn’t hesitate to make it look like she is the one who has a problem with Mack.
“No it’s okay,” Dex mumbles into the carpet. “I’ll be-”
“Billy!!!!!” The bedroom door flies open and screaming children come racing in, a sea of little red heads piling on top of Dex on the floor. Derek’s jaw kind of drops, because like, he knew Dex had a lot of siblings but like he can’t even count them right now? He recognizes Kelly, the sister who’s in high school, who’s definitely wearing more makeup than the last time he saw her and is kind of staring at him. And then there’s Caleb, who Dex currently has in a headlock, wearing grass stained baseball pants and a backwards little league hat. There’s three more, tiny ones, all but one with flaming orange hair and freckles and eyes that range from soft amber like Dex’s to brilliant blue like Kat’s. The littlest one is blonde, her eyes bright green and signature Poindexter freckles scattered across her nose. She pushes her brothers out of the way, clinging to Dex’s shirt and burrowing her face in the side of his neck.
“Hey Mags,” Dex presses a kiss to the top of his sister’s head, and Derek is sure his heart is going to burst free from his ribs. He’s not supposed to feel so fond looking at Dex, not supposed to be attracted to the way Dex’s big hands dwarf his little sister, or the serious expression on his face as she tells him all about her day at Grammie’s house.
He manages to tear his eyes away from the scene, thankful that he doesn’t blush with the same intensity Dex does when he finds Kat smirking at him. Leaning back on his hands he grins easily at her, pleased when her nose scrunches the same way Dex’s does and a flush rises on her neck. At least the Derek Nurse Charm™ isn’t slipping.
“Yo Kat, chill,” he drawls, fighting back a smirk when both Dex and Kat glare at him.
“Shut the - just don’t Nursey,” Dex growls, his expression clearing at the sound of a truck engine pulling up outside. Just like that, the majority of the red-headed horde disappears, thundering down the stairs amid screams of Dad’s Home. Dex and Kat share a soft smile, and Derek finds himself yearning for this.
He grew up never wanting material things. His moms had plenty of money, and he always had the coolest toys and the most fashionable clothes. And he loves his moms to death, he does, but this kind of family, with siblings and worn out furniture and creaky stairs, it’s just something different. Derek wants this, wants to have a home filled with laughter and love and good food. It’s better than romance or aesthetic or poetry.
It’s important.
“Earth to Nurse.”
Blinking, he finds Dex and Kat waiting for him, both standing by the door with irritatingly smug smirks on their faces. God. Derek might be a little bit in love with this family.
Derek’s halfway through his sausage and peppers sandwich when he realizes what the problem is. Mack McGregor is the nicest guy he’s ever met. Nicer than Bitty, nicer than Chowder even. It’s basically impossible to hate him, even though Derek wants to. God does he want to. The dude knows what Dex’s skin feels like beneath his fingers and the taste of his lips. And while Mack might look a bit like Derek, their personalities couldn’t be more different. Mack is loud and but pleasant, endearingly passionate about working with his dad on the lobster boat. He looks at Dex like he hung the moon, and Derek can’t help but wonder if he doesn’t look at him the same way.
Other than you know, the weird tension and Dex’s constant blushing, dinner goes relatively well. The younger Poindexters keep conversation flowing, bouncing between their week at school and sports practices and dance recitals and arguing over who is the best a fishing. No seriously. He could not make this shit up. It’s too warm in the house and Dex’s mom laughs too loud (call me Colleen, Derek, please) and Dex’s knee keeps nudging Derek’s under the table because there isn’t really room for eleven people but he wouldn’t want to change a thing.
Later though, when Mack starts making excuses to leave and Dex insists on walking him out, Derek has to force himself to ignore the ugly feeling curling in his gut. He wants to keep Dex to himself, wants to lace their fingers together and write pretty words on his arms. But Dex like someone at Samwell, and the chance that it’s him seems to get smaller and smaller the more he thinks about it.
He lets himself be ushered out into the living room, pretending not to notice when Kelly sits too close to him on the couch and laughing when Kat flops down on the other side with her feet in his lap. The fact that Dex is outside talking to his ex is all he can concentrate on. He imagines them making up, imagines them embracing, kissing, whispering I’m sorry and I love you. Derek grits his teeth and tries to focus on the bickering around him, but it’s nearly impossible when all he can think about is how much he wants to have the warmth of Dex’s shoulders pressed up against his own.
Dex returns what seems like hours later, though it was probably only minutes, face blush free and a smirk twisting at his lips. The smirk fades into exasperation when he notices the lack of space between Derek and Kelly.
“Move it Nurse,” Dex grumbles, pushing at his shoulder and forcing his way between him and Kelly on the couch. Kelly’s cheeks are flaming red, but she only glares at her brother, apparently too shy to actually speak.
“You’re still my favorite Poindexter, Billy,” Derek teases to hide his pleasure at having Dex so close, ruffling his hair with one hand. He leaves his arm stretched along the back of the couch as the family around him continues to bicker good naturedly, switching between the Red Sox game (Mr. P) and Ridiculousness (Caleb) and River Monsters (Maggie for some odd reason) every few minutes. Dex doesn’t seem to mind, content to chirp his sisters and share stories about Samwell and the hockey team with his little brothers.
Derek sinks deeper into the couch, the steadiness of Dex beside him and the warm of the room lulling him to sleep. He’s not sure how much time has passed when Dex shakes him awake, though most of the lights in the house are off and there’s nothing but blackness outside the windows.
“You gonna carry me to bed Dexy?” Derek smirks sleepily up at Dex, who huffs and rolls his eyes.
“In your dreams Nurse,” he grumbles, but there’s a tilt to his mouth that makes Derek think he’s not as angry as he would have been six months ago. Derek follows him upstairs to his bedroom, hesitating just inside the door. Dex moves about like nothing is out of the ordinary, pulling off his shirt and jeans and tossing them in the laundry basket in the corner. The slide of his back muscles beneath his freckled skin makes Derek’s mouth go dry, and he looks determinedly at the dark window, for once unsure of how to act.
“Do you… want me to sleep on the floor?” He asks once he manages to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, fighting back a smile at the sight of a very scowly and very red Dex glaring at him from the bed.
“Just get in the bed Nurse,” Dex snaps, his face getting steadily redder. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Out of the two of us,” Derek starts, stepping away from the door and pulling his shirt over his head. “You are totally the one who is going to make it weird. Weird is like your middle name Poindexter.”
“Fuck you Nursey.”
Derek bites his tongue, stopping the anytime you want from falling from his lips. It’s probably not a great idea to tease the object of his affections (and God, when did that even happen, fuck his life honestly) before climbing into bed with him.
“There you go Dex,” he says instead, shucking off his jeans and sliding beneath the sheets. “Making it weird already.”
“I’m going to kill you.” Dex huffs and rolls towards the wall, stuffed animal clutched in his arms. He’s quiet for a moment, shoulders tense. “And don’t fucking say it.”
“Listen,” Derek shrugs, fighting to keep the smile off his lips. “I just don’t want to be interrupting anything with you and your friend there.”
“First of all, fuck off.” Derek can practically feel the heat radiating from the back of Dex’s neck. “Secondly, it’s either you or Coco. So just leave me alone.”
“Aw come on Dex, you can cuddle with me if you want too.” It comes out too soft, too honest, but Derek isn’t sure he cares. “Seriously bro, do what you gotta do.” Derek flips over, presenting Dex with his back and hoping Dex can’t tell how much he actually wants to be cuddled. The room falls silent save for the soft sound of Dex’s breathing.
“You are the worst,” Dex grumbles after a moment, the mattress dipping and squeaking as he rolls over. One pale arm wraps around Derek, skin smooth and soft as it slides against his own. “If anyone on the team finds out about this, I will actually murder you.” Derek grins into the darkness, holding in a sigh when Dex’s warm breath washes against the back of his neck.
“Dex-”
“Don’t-”
“Chill.”
“You’re the worst.”
“You love it.” Derek takes Dex’s silence as an affirmative.
Derek groans and stretches, disappointment curling through his chest when he realizes the bed beside him is empty. Not that he is expecting a morning snuggle sesh with Dex or anything, but he would’ve like to see the way he looked, peacefully asleep beside him. The alarm clock read 7:12, and he doesn’t bother trying to hold in another groan. It’s way too early to be awake on a Sunday morning. Pressing his face to the pillow he breathes in the smell of Dex, guiltily wrapping himself up in the sheets. He would be content there for hours.
But then he hears it.
He notices the laughter first, a mixture of uncontrollable giggles and a braying laugh that has to be Kat. The bass drum is secondary, just loud enough to make Derek curious. He rolls out of bed and rifles through Dex’s dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. The elastic on the waist is giving out, but they just manage to stay up, so Derek figures its good enough.
The music gets louder as he creeps down the stairs, Nicki Minaj recognizable by the time he reaches the bottom. It’s not the music he would have predicted for this household, though it’s probably not fair to judge an entire family based on one eighteen year old member.
Derek peeks his head into the kitchen, and promptly stumbles backwards. His face feels hot and his skin feels too tight, and really, he does not need to see William Poindexter dancing to NIcki MInaj at seven in the morning. Taking a deep breath, he takes another look, absurdly attracted to Dex’s terrible dance moves. It’s the worst. Derek has always been into beautiful things, people and places and objects that make the world a little bit prettier. Dex and his god awful dancing doesn’t do any of that, and yet Derek feels like his life just got a little brighter.
“Derek!!!” Kat yells, jumping down from where she was perched on the counter and reaching for his wrist. Derek lets her drag him into the kitchen, though his eyes stay focused on a now very red Dex.
“Sick moves Poindexter,” Derek smirks, unable to help himself. “I’m surprised you don’t break those out at kegsters.”
“Fuck you,” Dex snaps. “And what happened, you lose your shirt?” Derek runs a hand across his chest, pleased with the way Dex’s eyes follow it as he shrugs.
“I don't mind,” Kelly sighs, cheeks pinking up when Dex glares at her.
“Me either,” Kat adds, poking at Derek’s abs. “But Billy should show you how he can twerk.”
“No.” Dex's growl is immediate, flush traveling down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. Derek abruptly wants to taste it, wants to feel the blood rushing beneath his tongue.
“I wanna see this,” he says instead. “I bet I'm better at it than you.”
Dex’s jaw ticks, resolve written clearly across his face. “You're on Nurse.”
Hockey butts are made for this kind of thing, and Derek has witnessed way too many of his teammates trying to dance like this in the locker room, but never Dex. He's actually not all that bad, and it becomes clear that his earlier moves had been designed to makes his sisters laugh. Regardless, Derek’s not about to let Dex win this one.
He starts to dance next to Dex, bouncing his ass as obnoxiously as he can. The girls are dying of laughter, but Dex seems to be refusing to look at him, which is just no fun at all.
“Not too bad Dexy,” he admits, reaching over and smacking his butt. Dex trips forward with a surprised grunt, losing all the rhythm he had. Derek’s not expecting him to turn around and try to return the favor. Derek grabs at his wrist to stop him, something between a laugh and a shout bubbling from his lips as he trips backwards, Dex following him down to the floor. Dex is touching him and Derek isn't wearing enough clothes and he should really know better than to start a wrestling match with the boy he wants to lick every inch of. He lets Dex pin his wrists above his head, chest heaving as he tries not to think about the fact the Dex is warm and solid on top of him.
“If anyone on the team finds out about any of this,” Dex whispers, close enough that Dex can see the gold and brown swirling together in his eyes, too close. “I will murder you.” Derek forces his mouth to do something other than hang open, hoping he can mask the raw desire surging beneath his skin.
“Sure Dex,” he shrugs, biting his lip with his wrists tug against Dex's fingers. “Whatever you say.” Dex's left eye twitches, but he rolls off of Derek, scrambling to the feet as footsteps sound on the stairs.
“What is going on in here?” Dex's mom sweeps into the kitchen, her mouth twitching in the corner at the sight of Derek laying on the floor. “I wish I could say I’m surprised.” Derek scrambles to his feet sheepishly. He trips into Dex, cursing his two left feet and the way his face feels hot when Dex just sighs and catches him. “Now Billy,” Colleen continues as if Derek isn't dying internally. “Why don't you help me make breakfast, the rest of you can keep the little ones busy in the living room.”
Right on cue, the rest of the Poindexters come thundering down the stairs, and Derek finds himself with an armful of little Maggie. She begins to tell him about the dream she had as he carries her out into the living room, which seems to include giant strawberries with Dex as their leader. He settles onto the couch with her, trying not to eavesdrop on the quiet laughter and conversation between Dex and his mom in the kitchen. There’s more important things on his mind anyways, like figuring out the appropriate number of minutes to wait to ask Kat who Dex has a crush on at Samwell without seeming overly invested. Appearing so chill all the time takes a lot more effort than it looks like. In fact, Derek is the complete opposite of the persona he projects, feeling things deeply and reacting quickly. Usually he can keep it all inside, carefully hidden away beneath the surface, but when it comes to Dex, all bets are off.
“So…” He waits until Maggie’s attention has focused in on the TV show her brothers are watching, something to do with fishing. Again. What is it with this family? “Who’s Dex got the hots for at Samwell?”
Kat makes almost the same face Dex did last night in his bedroom, but somehow she makes it more insulting. Derek has never felt so looked down upon in his life.
“Are you serious?” Kat’s starting to smirk, like this is the best news she’s heard in weeks. “Oh my God, you are.” She’s outright grinning now. It’s slightly terrifying. Derek just raises an eyebrow, hoping it hides the fact that he feels like he’s been left out of an inside joke. “I do know who it is,” Kat admits, smirk sliding off her face. “But I’m not gonna tell you.”
“Aww come on Kat,” Derek begs, fluttering his eyelashes. She blushes, but shakes her head, lips pursing.
“Nope. But there is a mix tape in the CD player in his truck right now. He made it over spring break while he was pining. You guys should listen to it, maybe it’ll give you a clue.” Her smirk has returned in full force, this time with definite evil undertones.
“Dex made a mixtape?” Derek wrinkles his nose. He can’t picture Dex pining, let alone sitting down and putting songs onto a CD. “What’s even is on it? Dad Rock?”
“It’s about 70% pop, 10% country, 10% hip hop, 10% oldies… 100% pathetic,” Kat grins like she’s proud of her joke. “He was listening to it 24/7 for a while there.”
Derek has got to hear this CD.
“What are you doing?”
They haven’t been on the road for more than a minute, and Derek is already reaching for the radio. He can’t stop thinking about it, obsessing over it, needing to hear the songs that Dex likes to listen to when he’s alone in the dark.
“Just seeing what you’ve got in your CD player,” Derek smirks as he jabs at the button. “Chill Dex.” Dex just huffs as a familiar beat starts to play in the background. “Ooooh, RiRi’s my girl!” Derek laughs, cranking up the volume.
“Okay let’s just put it back-” He smacks Dex’s hand away from the radio.
“Shhhh, this is my jam - yeah, I heard you good with them soft lips, yeah you know word of mouth. Square root of 69 is 8 something right? Cause I’ve been trying to work it out uh-”
“This isn’t happening right now.” Dex growls, jabbing at the skip button. His face is a brilliant shade of pink, only his largest freckles standing out in sharp relief. He looks away when Derek laughs at him, but Derek doesn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth ticks up with a smile.
Bruce Springsteen’s voice swells from the speakers, and Dex starts to bob his head, fingers tapping against the steering wheel to the beat.
“Ah, Dad Rock,” Derek smirks, laughing when Dex flips him off. “Now this I expected.”
“Hey fuck you Nurse.”
“Any time you want,” Derek fumbles over the words, looking quickly out the window to hide the way his face feels hot. Dex splutters but nothing comes out, and when Derek finally builds up the courage to glance back over, he’s staring determinedly out the windshield, ears still bright red.
Pathetic probably isn’t the right way to describe the mix of songs that Dex put together. They’re love songs but not really, more sexy than anything, and Derek can’t help but feel slightly jealous that Dex thinks of someone while mouthing along with Ludacris singing What’s Your Fantasy. And listening to the songs with Dex isn’t really helping anything. It’s not like they remind him of anyone (other than Dex), and it’s hard to focus when Dex seems to go back and forth between being horrifically embarrassed and singing along under his breath.
“Yo, can I borrow this CD?” He asks as Dex parks at school, trying to come off like it doesn’t really matter anyways. Dex freezes with his fingers curled around his keys, eyes going wide.
“Why?” He snaps, suddenly a flurry of motion. “You want to make fun of me some more?”
“Nah,” Derek shrugs, reaching over and pressing the eject button anyways. “I dig it.”
“Oh.” Dex looks flustered as he fumbles with the door of the truck. “Fine, whatever man. Do what you want.” Derek grins.
“Thanks bro.”
Derek downloads the songs onto his computer and makes a playlist. He feels like a fifteen year old when he names it Dex’s Mix, but it also makes the butterflies dance in his stomach for some god awful reason. He listens to it for days, Kenny Chesney singing to him about summer love while he’s walking to class and Selena Gomez crooning in his ears while he works out. He can’t stop listening to it, trying to figure out who Dex thinks of as a toublemaker, who makes Dex better, who Dex thinks about wearing a snapback.
He’s in the kitchen at the Haus, pretending to work on an analysis for his Women in Literature class, but really trying to break down the lyrics of T-Shirt by Thomas Rhett.
“I didn’t think you liked country music Nursey,” Bitty hums, up to his elbows in flour as he kneads some kind of dough.
“I don’t,” Derek growls, pressing replay anyways. “This is Dex’s playlist. What does this even mean?”
“Dex gave you this playlist?” Bitty asks carefully, his back still to Derek.
“Well no,” Derek admits, skipping to the next song. “I found out that he -” He pauses, not wanting to out Dex without permission. “He told me he broke it off with his last significant other because he had the hots for someone here at Samwell. And when I asked his sister if she knew who it was, she refused to tell me, but because she’s evil, she told me Dex made a mix tape over spring break. We listened to it on the drive back, and then I asked him for it. I just have no idea who this person is.”
“Oh honey.” He looks up to find Bitty looking at him with some mix of sympathy and understanding. “Maybe you should just tell him that you want to be that person.”
Derek stills, only his eyes flicking up to meet Bitty’s. He hadn’t thought he had been that obvious about these gross feelings for Dex, but it seems that Bitty can see right through him.
“But I don’t wanna-”
“Or maybe,” Bitty continues over him, sliding a slice of pie across the table that he procured out of thin air. “You should consider that he might feel the same way about you.”
I’m a movement by myself, but I’m a force when we’re together.
Oh.
I’m good all by myself, but baby you, you make me better.
Derek snaps his laptop closed and stands up, fork hanging out of his mouth.
“I gotta go,” he mumbles around a mouthful of something that tastes a lot like Nutella. “Thanks for the pie Bitty.”
“Anytime sweetheart!” Bitty yells after him, but he’s already halfway down the street.
He’s sweating by the time he makes it to Dex’s door room, chest heaving from running all the way across campus, but he doesn’t really care. His heart is beating too loud in his ears, and his stomach is tied up in knots, but he knocks on Dex’s door anyways.
“Dex, I need to talk to you,” he pants, and it sounds too raw, too honest, definitely the opposite of chill.
The door swings open to reveal Dex, hair sticking up in all directions like he’s been running his hands through it, and eyes all blurry like he’s been staring at his computer screen for hours.
“What the hell Nurse-” Derek grabs a handful of his blue plaid flannel shirt and cuts him off with a kiss, backing him into the room and letting the door swing shut behind them. Their teeth clack together and their noses bump, and for a moment Derek keeps expecting Dex to punch him right in the gut. But then Dex sighs against his lips, his head tilting to the left and one big hand curling around the back of Derek’s neck.
“Took you long enough,” he mumbles before their lips slot together, soft and sweet and nothing like Derek imagined their first kiss would be. Dex tastes like coffee and peanut butter cups and kisses like a lazy Sunday morning, slow and sticky and toe curling good. Derek can’t help but push closer, sliding his hands up beneath Dex’s shirts to trace along the knobs of his spine and press his thumbs into the dip of his hips. He could stand here all day, memorizing the lines of Dex’s face and writing sonnets about each shift of his lips. But Dex is moving them, spinning Derek around and backing him towards the bed. He follows him down, crawling between his legs, hands warm as they push his shirt up towards his armpits.
“God Nursey,” he sighs into the crook of his neck, the heat from his cheeks burning against Derek’s skin. “I just never thought-” Derek pulls him back into a kiss before he can finish that sentence, trying to speak the words that just won't come to him with every sweep of his tongue. The kisses turn lazy after a few moments, and Derek rolls Dex onto his side, tangling their legs together and pressing soft kisses to the freckles on his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his jaw.
“What made you figure it out?” Dex asks softly, tracing one finger across Derek’s eyebrow.
“Fabolous man,” Derek smirks, watching the way Dex’s cheeks start to burn again. “God that mix tape is epic. Wait… so does this mean you want to lick me from my head to my toes?”
“This isn’t happening.”
“Move from the bed down to the - down to the floor?”
“Stop.”
“I gotta know Dex, what’s your fantasy?”
“You shutting the fuck up,” Dex snaps, but he’s fighting back a grin and his hands are sliding beneath the waistband of Derek’s jeans.
“You love it,” he teases, leaning in and tugging Dex’s bottom lip between his teeth.
“Yeah,” Dex sighs against his mouth, chasing his lips until they connect, slow and hot. “I really do.”
With Bitty’s help they make a cake and send it to Kat. It says, ‘Thanks For The Sex’ on top. She vows to never speak to either of them again. Derek has never seen Dex look so smug in his life.