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Summary
Derek’s been in Maine for four days and he feels like he’s going to combust any second now.
Maine itself has been nice. Great even. The Poindexters are kind enough to his face. Falmouth is probably the tiniest town Derek’s ever been in and the quiet and sleepiness of it makes him just a little restless, but Dex has been showing him every nook and cranny in town. They haven’t made a day trip to Portland yet, but that’s still the plan for one of the next few days.
So, yeah, Maine’s fine, it’s great. Being with Dex settles something in his chest that he never thought possible this time four years ago. But.
But they haven’t had, like, any time to themselves.
It’s been four days of finally having Dex close to him again, within reach instead of over three hundred miles away. And yet they haven’t been able to do… anything. It’s fine, it’s chill, but Derek’s also kind of ready to pop with sexual frustration. And he’s pretty sure it’s not just him.
Or, the one in which Derek goes to Maine for the week, the universe seems to conspire against them, and Dex's truck comes in clutch.
Series
- Part 2 of fog up the windows in the parking lot