Chapter Text
Things for Dex have been going okay.
Better than okay, really. He loves Samwell in the springtime, he always has. Being back as the trees bloom with flowers and fresh air floods campus has awakened something special inside of him.
His meds are probably working a bit now, too. And all that therapy, or whatever.
Things with Nursey are, well…
Dex is walking home from the rink with Whiskey now but has Nursey on his mind. They had dinner together before Dex went off for evening drills, but something felt off; something’s felt off for a couple of weeks, actually, or–well, since Dex got back, but…
“You okay?” Whiskey asks, nudging Dex gently. He zones back in and nods quickly, pinning a practiced smile on his face, but Whiskey’s actually very intuitive. “Alright, man. You seemed distracted tonight, is all.”
Dex exhales, tired. “Yeah.”
“Catching up on work okay?” Whiskey asks, and Dex nods again.
He’s officially back on track to graduate on time, which Farmer celebrated by making a mini confetti cannon and surprising Dex on the porch the other night, after which they shared an apple pie.
“Yeah, all good there,” he says. “Things are fine.” Whiskey nods, and Dex nods again. “Nursey and I haven’t…” he stops before he begins, because that will honestly be enough for Whiskey to go off of.
“Really?” Whiskey asks.
“I don’t think that he…” Dex trails off again, shaking his head now.
Whiskey shakes his head too, frowning. “Well don’t think that.” Dex rolls his eyes, but mostly to himself, folding his arms over his chest. “Don’t think that,” Whiskey repeats firmly, looking irritated.
Dex frowns at him. “He’s giving me space,” he decides.
Space that feels like a decision’s been made. Space that feels like Nursey is happy to stay a good, supportive friend to Dex without anything else. The physical distance between them feels massive.
Friendship with Nursey is good. He loves friendship with Nursey. He’s lucky he still gets to have it.
“Did you ask for space?” Whiskey pushes, and Dex shrugs, but nods. Not in so many words, but yeah, Dex did ask for space. “So… that’d be the reason he’s giving it?”
“Whatever. Can we not?”
“Fine.”
Dex rolls his eyes again. Whiskey nudges him gently.
-
Nursey’s waiting on the basement steps when Dex opens the door to go downstairs.
He jumps up and turns, waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Dex to arrive, almost like he overheard Dex and Whiskey on their walk back to the Haus and rushed down to make sure he could greet him in time; but, no–he must have felt things were off during dinner too.
Seeing Nursey like this always makes Dex’s chest do a wild and funny twist. “Hey,” he greets.
Nursey smiles, and it’s a smile that people would start wars for. “Hi,” he returns. “How were drills?”
“Good.” There’s a fair amount of work that Dex still needs to get done tonight but he knows Nursey’s here for a reason; there’s never really a good time for things like this anyway. “You wanna come in?”
In Dex’s room, he drops his duffle and lowers himself into his desk chair, but after Nursey closes the door behind himself he doesn’t sit. He paces a little, eyes lingering on Dex’s bed for a beat just long enough for Dex to realize it’s been months since they stayed down here together.
Nursey’s eyes return to Dex and he shrugs, shaking his head a little, taking a breath. “Okay,” Nursey starts. Dex nods encouragingly, his own heart pounding. “So.” He opens and closes his mouth again, not saying anything.
“Jesus, what, Derek?”
Nursey takes another breath. “I got into that program,” he finally rushes. “In Berkeley.”
Dex’s not surprised by this, but he knows he must look surprised. “Wow. That’s–” he tries to sound happy and realizes his voice is very tight. “Congratulations.”
“Will–” he’s starting toward him now, and Dex hasn’t seen Nursey look this upset in a long time. “I, look…” he shakes his head and stops himself a few steps away from Dex, though it feels like it could be miles. His voice drops low, “Is this over, for you?”
Dex’s heart drops into his stomach. “What?”
“This,” Nursey tries again, a step closer. “Us?” Dex opens his mouth and hesitates, terrified to answer, when Nursey adds, “I’m still here.”
Dex didn’t expect for this to feel so terrible.
Fine, he’s not fucking okay–he feels everything rush inside at once, quickly destroying any walls he thought he’d built over these last few weeks. Dex misses Nursey like breathing and in the same breath can’t stand to see him here like this.
“Why?” he rasps.
Nursey look heartbroken at the question. “Don’t be stupid.”
“No, really,” Dex pushes, voice raw and aching. “Why would you still–?” he shakes his head and breaks his gaze, but Nursey’s there then, crouching so he can meet Dex’s eyes, reaching out to hold his hands.
“What do you want?” Nursey murmurs. “A list of reasons? Would that make you understand how much I miss you?” Dex’s eyes flood with tears. “Will, I miss you. I love you. What do you need to hear?”
He’s right, there’s nothing Nursey could say now that hasn’t already been said before; between their nights together trading whispers and kisses and dreams, between the heat of the locker room and the chill of the ice, between phone calls and texts and long delightful gazes. They’ve been through so much together over these years and there aren’t any words that could put enough weight other than this.
I miss you. I love you.
“Derek.”
“I want to plan my future with you. Our future together.”
Dex tugs one of his hands out of Nursey’s so he can wipe his eyes, but it just makes Nursey hold his other one tighter. He doesn’t know what he did for love like this, and he’s so fucking scared of it. Dex wants it more than anything he’s ever wanted and still doesn’t think he’s allowed to have it, thinks maybe if he really accepts it then it’ll be snatched away from him just as quickly.
“Or tell me it’s over,” Nursey pleads, pressing his own forehead into their linked hands. Dex is shaking his head before can help it. “If that’s what you want–”
“No,” Dex croaks. “Of course not, why would I–?” He scrambles out of his chair, lowering himself to his knees in front of Nursey and pulling him into his arms, not having any more words to spare. Nursey’s eyes circle around him immediately and they cling tightly to one another, and below it all Dex can feel Nursey shaking. “No,” he murmurs again. “That’s not what I want.”
Nursey pulls away just enough to whisper, “Is it what you need?”
Dex is shaking his head again, no. They pull back further so they can look at one another; Nursey’s worried gaze makes Dex lean in, pressing their foreheads together.
“No,” Dex tells him. He doesn’t need this to be over, not in any sense of the word. He wants this to work. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to admit, “I’m scared?”
Nursey nods a little. “Yeah?” he prompts. Dex keeps his eyes firmly shut, but nods too, still leaned up against Nursey. “Me too, Will.” Nursey lifts one of his hands and cups Dex’s cheek gently. “Of fucking this up. Of losing you.” Dex’s eyes snap open and they meet Nursey’s at once. “Fights, and moving… finding jobs, making stupid decisions… being broke…” he swipes his thumb along Dex’s jaw. “I love you more than I’m scared.”
Dex feels a little dizzy at how clearly Nursey always sees him; his fears are the same–of fucking this up, of losing him.
His mom was gone in a moment, without even a chance to say goodbye; he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak to his dad again. There’s so much unknown about his future right now, and still, Dex sees Nursey there beside him when he pictures it.
And he does picture it.
“Me too,” Dex rasps, nodding now. “I love you more than I’m scared.”
Nursey’s laugh is wet and warm and then they’re kissing, both of them pressing in to find one another. Dex tries to murmur apologies between them and Nursey shushes him again and again with his lips, and it’s been too long since Dex has had this so he lets himself be shushed. Nursey’s hands in his hair, Nursey’s taste on his tongue, Dex is delirious and pink when they break apart for air; still, Nursey doesn’t go far, a kiss on his nose, a trail along his cheek, another on his forehead.
He opens his mouth to say it again, I’m sorry, and Nursey still doesn’t want to hear it. Both of their faces are wet from tears, Dex realizes, as Nursey gently wipes Dex’s cheeks for him. He tries to keep saying it, needs Nursey to understand how inevitable it is that Dex fucks up again, but Nursey doesn’t care.
“We know now, right now, mistakes’ll be made. Most likely, by both of us, yeah?” he urges, and Dex knows that it’s true. “We can try not to make them. I’ll try if you try.”
“I’ll try,” Dex promises.
“Great,” Nursey agrees. Another quick kiss, and Nursey’s smiling into it. He makes it so easy to dream, to be hopeful. “I just want to do it together,” he murmurs.
How on Earth did Dex get so lucky?
-
Dex doesn’t end up getting any work done that night, but it’s really okay–he and Nursey crawl into his bed and wind themselves around each other, sometimes kissing, mostly talking, whispers between them as though the basement doesn’t provide them enough privacy already.
In bits here and there, he tells Nursey the truth; how growing up, Dex thought about killing himself all the time. From before he was even old enough to understand what he was really thinking about.
He told his mom about it when he was in middle school, and they just started going to church more. It helped when he got into hockey. He never made plans or tried anything, but he was always still kind of thinking about it.
Until Samwell. He really didn’t think about it when he was at Samwell. Not in the same way, at least; Dex thought a lot about how he used to think about it–killing himself. But Samwell very quickly felt safe from home in ways Dex had never really known.
The thought of coming out became less like a pipe dream and more like a reality Dex knew he would finally see one day. He had people that helped him believe that.
But then his mom died, and the drinking started. And losing the game in the Frozen Four, that was Dex’s fault. He knows that. He doesn’t admit directly that he was drunk during, but there’s enough left unsaid that he knows Nursey understands it.
“Home was the worst,” Dex tells him quietly.
He didn’t realize how bad his dad had gotten since his mom died; he was drinking a lot, too. And he was cruel when he wasn’t drunk, so alcohol certainly didn’t help. Dex doesn’t know if he reacted to something his father said, or if he’d known all along, but once he started mixing slurs into it all and talking about Dex dying in whatever terrible and violent way he’d dreamt up that day, Dex finally had enough.
He just felt so empty.
Still, sometimes. It comes in waves. That’s what grief is for Dex right now, unfortunately, a never ending cycle of sometimes feeling so, so empty that the next moment often doesn’t feel worth it. But he has new tools to work with, new triggers to look out for, new dreams to keep him motivated.
“And me,” Nursey reminds him sleepily before he begins to doze off.
“And you,” Dex agrees warmly.
-
Mornings are easier with Nursey in bed.
Fuck it, everything’s easier with Nursey. Talking about everything, making decisions, falling asleep.
Dex enjoys every slow moment he gets to study Nursey like this, still asleep beside him. He looks so young, his long eyelashes like something out of a painting.
Honestly, Dex could stay here all day. But he’s made a promise.
“Derek,” he murmurs, receiving little in response. Dex trails his finger lightly over Nursey’s nose and watches his eyes flutter open. “Morning.”
Nursey closes his eyes again, but smiles. “Forgot how nice your bed is,” he says in greeting, which just makes Dex’s chest do some ridiculous cartwheel. “I love sleeping down here.”
“Well, keep at it,” Dex says gently. “I’ve gotta meet C.”
Nursey opens his eyes, frowning now. “For?”
“We’ve been doing morning runs.”
“Oh, still?” The wrinkle between Nursey’s eyebrow eases and Dex reaches out, finger tapping the spot it had just been. “I like that,” Nursey says.
Dex wants to kiss him a million times. It takes actual willpower to not draw him in now. He likes Nursey so much he can’t even joke about it like part of his mind is telling him to, still terrified he could say something to ruin this beautiful, real thing blooming between them.
“You could come,” Dex offers.
Nursey laughs, scoffs, closes his eyes again, “No.”
Dex’s smile grows. “I’ll bring you back a coffee,” he offers. Nursey’s eyes stay closed but he arches his eyebrows, curious and smiling too. “And maybe a lemon bar.”
Again, Nursey’s eyes open. “I fucking love lemon bars.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Nursey’s kissing him then and Dex is grinning into it, letting himself get carried away if only for a moment. Just as quickly, Nursey pulls away and sinks back down into the pillows, and Dex isn’t even mad.
“Don’t be long,” Nursey murmurs, eyes closing again for sleep.
Dex climbs out of bed and gets dressed quietly, peeking over his shoulder every once in a while to see if Nursey’s watching him or not, but every time he does, Nursey’s eyes are closed. Before he goes, Dex crosses his room again, leaning over his bed to deliver a soft kiss to Nursey’s forehead.
Nursey makes a quiet sound in response, already asleep again. This makes Dex wildly happy, for some reason.
Chowder’s already waiting for him on the porch, stretching out one of his legs. Dex makes a face of apology but Chowder only smiles, switching to his other leg. “You better have a good reason for being late, William.”
“I don’t.”
It doesn’t take a lot of discussion for Chowder to realize what’s happened with Nursey staying the night, and he’s so delighted about it that his shriek of joy startles away a nearby group of birds. They make their usual loop and then some, and Chowder joins Dex on his stop at the cafe to pick up some morning treats.
Back at the Haus, Chowder hollers his love over his shoulder before running upstairs to shower, and Dex feels his heart swell again. “I love you too,” he calls back, despite the unsteady waiver in his voice.
But he does. He loves Chowder deeply.
Nursey’s awake and scrolling on his phone by the time Dex gets back downstairs, still tucked in bed, likely not having moved much at all since Dex left. He looks up when Dex enters and smiles, immediately lowering his phone into the space beside him.
“I like you there,” Dex says in greeting. “In my bed,” he adds.
Nursey beams, some sort of beautiful beacon of light. “Yeah?”
Yes, so much. Dex grasps for casual and says, “I could get used to it.” In an instant Nursey’s sitting up, his eyes serious as he pushes himself to move. Dex frowns, suddenly worried. “What?” he asks, quickly moving toward him, throwing their coffee and morning treats down on the desk to meet him half-way.
Nursey’s on his knees in Dex’s bed when he gets there, the perfect height for them to wind their arms around each other.
“Nothing,” Nursey exhales, holding tight. Dex can feel Nursey’s heart racing, but he can’t help feeling he missed something. When Nursey pulls back he’s smiling again, so wide it makes Dex unafraid again, and the moment passes. “How was your run?” he asks.
Dex can’t answer because Nursey immediately pulls him in for a kiss. Dex laughs into it, happy to indulge, before remembering, “I should shower.”
Nursey kisses him again, another time; Dex feels himself sinking to his knees, being pulled onto the mattress, Nursey’s hands in his hair. He kicks off his shoes while Nursey pulls his shirt up and off, tossing it onto the floor, giving in without any argument.
“Come with me?” Dex wonders, breathless.
-
It’s not all miracles and kissing and sunshine, though there is a lot of joy.
Dave and Rick come to Samwell for Dex’s graduation; he’s only given the two tickets, any more are an extra cost, and yet–they’ve somehow arranged with Nursey and Chowder and all of Dex’s cousins a boatload more tickets. Dex’s section in the crowd is nearly 15 seats packed, and when he spots them as he walks across the stage it takes all he has not to burst into tears.
Still, they have the next couple months to be in the Haus before they figure out next steps, and with everyone graduating, there are a lot of parties. Dex seesaws with his therapist, back and forth, wondering if he needs to stay sober forever or if they can experiment and see. She encourages sobriety; he breaks it and drinks so much he blacks out.
When he wakes the next morning, remembering himself, he’s naked in the upstairs bathtub. He’s deeply hungover and throws up immediately, only making it into the toilet by the grace of God herself, and then lays in the shower under a cool stream until everything eventually stops spinning.
Nursey checks on him later, likely having deposited him there the night before, and Farmer brings by some bread for him to eat. Eventually he gets relocated to Nursey’s bed, his stomach still rolling, but as he lays in bed hating himself, he checks his email, and a job offer’s come through from a tech company in San Francisco.
The decision to quit drinking isn’t an easy one. And this won’t be the only spiral he sends himself on; but he has a future ahead of him still, and he’s really starting to want to see where it takes him.
-
Mid-July, they all make the move out west to the Bay Area. They land in the East Bay with Dex commuting into the city, a two-bedroom apartment to share with Farmer and Chowder just a short walk away from a large lake.
Adjusting to the move is easier than Dex ever expected. A few weeks after they arrive, they all sit on the roof and watch the sunset and pass around a joint that Dex rolled himself; the sky is full of pinks and oranges so neon that he tries his best to commit them to memory and realizes he doesn’t have to–he’ll get to watch hundreds more.
This is the moment he falls in love with sunsets.
September is the one year anniversary of his mother’s passing, and Dex and Nursey fly to Maine together for a ceremony that Rick put together. Dex sees family he hasn’t seen in a long time, receives a lot of hugs, and finally, really lets himself cry as he surrounds himself with others. His mom was a big baker, always with cupcakes or cookies in the oven, and everyone’s brought something handmade to share potluck style. Dave and Dex go to lay flowers on her grave alone, taking turns reminiscing quietly about their last memories of her.
A phone call filled with love. A pinch on the cheek and a quick pat down of some unruly hair that refused to settle. It’s hard to remember those last moments with much specificity, but there are other memories that are persistent and refuse to faide.
“I miss her,” Dex murmurs.
Dave pulls him close. “Me too.” He pauses. “I’m glad I don’t have to miss you.” Dex hugs him tightly after that, and finds it difficult to finally let go.
Back home in Oakland, Dex settles into a life he never expected. He used to love driving, and now he finds he enjoys the packed feeling on the train into San Francisco more than sitting alone in traffic on the bridge. The sunsets over the ocean are indescribable. Nursey comes home every day with a new plant, a new story, or a smile so brilliant it makes Dex dizzy. Their house is covered in greenery, in local art, with cheap street furniture they’ve thoroughly cleaned before bringing it in. There’s color in every room, lights strung up on the walls, Nursey’s record player in the living room always humming away.
They celebrate his birthday by going bowling stoned, and it’s perfect.
It feels like their home. Farmer’s always bringing over her friends from work and they all make an effort to go to Downtown First Fridays and Chowder keeps trying to convince everyone they need a dog, and when Dex feels like he’s slipping, he tells them that he needs help.
It’s not often, but it does get louder once the season approaches.
And then louder still.
-
Nursey knows it’s getting closer, day by day, that’s how time works. Closer and closer to the anniversary of having to call Dave and figure out where Dex went, closer to the deep panic that planted itself in Nursey’s chest at the realization Dex was really missing, closer to the day Dex was found face down on a trail in Maine nearly unresponsive.
Dex seems okay, but he’s good at hiding it when he wants to, Nursey knows.
They all take the week off and plan a trip out to Maine, staying with Rick once they arrive. Farmer’s delighted to meet him and see the space, and Dave makes the drive out to spend some time with everyone too.
It’s a great week, really. The weather in Maine is beautiful, and Rick lets them take the boat out whenever they want. They order in, they eat out, they cook elaborate meals together as thank-yous to Rick and Dave, they lay with their feet in the water, they make fires for s’mores.
Dex wants to hike the trail, so they hike the trail.
It’s just Nursey and Chowder and Farmer and Dex now, giving his family a bit of space, and the drive over is quiet, but not tense. It’s another beautiful day with lovely blue skies and puffy white clouds, like from a children’s drawing.
They’ve only barely started the hike when Dex suddenly slows down, taking a quiet breath. He’s looking at the ground with furrowed eyebrows.
Chowder asks, “Was it here?” and Dex nods.
This is where they found him. They can’t be more than a few hundred feet from the trailhead entrance.
They’re all quiet now, and Nursey reaches out to grab Dex’s hand, who looks at him with a tight expression that he can’t read.
“It just feels… so long ago,” Dex murmurs, shaking his head a little. “Like some sort of bad dream.”
“We don’t have to go,” Chowder tells him.
“Yeah, we can go somewhere else,” Farmer agrees. There are tons of trails around here they can hike, this doesn’t need to be the one they take today.
But Dex shakes his head again. “No, I want to,” he insists. He tugs Nursey along, and Nursey nods encouragingly, so the rest of them follow too.
Nursey tries not to think of Dex here last spring and everything that brought him here. Instead he thinks of all the progress Dex has made since; graduation, the move out west, his 90 day sober chip that he keeps in his pocket as a fidget and reminder.
“My mom first brought me out here,” Dex tells them as they get closer to the ledge. “When I was little. It was me, her and Dave. I think I was… 7? 8?”
Dex still never talks about his mom.
“She said her mom used to bring them all when she was young, too. All my aunts and uncles, and they’d hike out for the afternoon–sometimes go down to the lake, do a picnic, sort of thing.”
Ah, so that’s why they packed lunch.
The hike itself is pretty moderate, and before long they’ve reached the ledge that Dex has described to Nursey–the view is cinematic, looking out over a huge lake that sprawls beneath where they’re standing. He looks out, wide-eyed, thinking of Dex making it here on his own last year and being so, so grateful he never got this far. The beauty of this space persists.
When Nursey turns back to him, Dex’s eyes are lingering on the cliff’s edge, where a giant metal cross is erected for the view. When Dex feels him looking, he turns toward Nursey and reaches out to grab his hand again.
Chowder and Farmer scramble down to the cliff’s ledge, to touch the base of the metal cross, and Dex and Nursey stand still to watch them.
“You doing okay?” Nursey asks quietly.
Dex nods, leaning his head against Nursey’s. “Yeah.” Then softer, “I can feel her, here.”
Nursey nods too. “Yeah,” he agrees.
Dex squeezes Nursey’s hand tightly, his mouth curving into a small smile as he watches Chowder and Farmer down at the cross.
“You should see it in the fall,” Dex adds, pulling away only so he can look Nursey directly on, and there’s something brilliant shining in his eyes that makes Nursey feel warm; like Dex is fully aware of the way his world could’ve ended here last year and is grateful that it didn’t. Nursey’s more than grateful. “With all the yellows and oranges and reds in the leaves.”
Nursey pulls him in for a kiss. “Let’s come back, then,” he murmurs. More future to look forward to, always. “If you want.”
“Yeah,” Dex agrees, smiling into the kiss. “We can always come back.”