heat of her breath in my mouth; im alive" for nurseydex?
heyyy remember months ago when i asked yâall to send in hozier lyrics as prompts and yâall fucking Delivered and i sat on my ass and did nothing??? (well,, two As and a citation in my classes but who gives a shit about that)
HERE IT IS. well. one of them. here one of them is. itâs weird and wishy washy and most reminiscent of my writing style from Forever Stained (remember that?) and nursey is mildly ooc and dex is Emotional and if you donât know my oc luke it may be confusing for a bit but anyway itâs FUN and i hope yâall enjoy it
will be tackling the other prompts soon!! hopefully!! :]
warning for parental homophobia and older-person-young-person relationship (a 14 year old and a 17 year old, only in flashback)
The first night Dex is in New York, he dreams.
He dreams himself a house. A loud, angry house. The walls shiver, the floors ache. He drags his rough palm against peeling wallpaper until his fingers catch on the latch of a back door.
The night air is cold. It hurts, but tastes like water, and he chokes it down until his lungs close up. When he finishes swallowing, he is on a beach. The house is far away, a distant thrum in the back of his head. To his left is an outcropping of mossy rocks. To his right are the glassy waves of low tide. Behind him, he can feel, is a roaring fire.
If he turns around, he will find a ring of drunken teenagers cupping sixty cent beer like salvation. He will fade into their circle with little fuss and spend the night with sand in his jeans pockets wondering if he will ever be allowed to leave this place.
If he turns right, he will be chilled and damp and alone.
He turns left.
The rocks create a familiar path. The bottoms of the stones are encrusted with salt from high tide washing in and moss grows along their sides and tops, soft with stolen sunshine. The moss is smoother than the wallpaper and soothes his rough hands. Sand steals into his sneakers, irritating, but he continues to walk. He knows what is waiting for him at the end.
The house is all but silent, now. The bonfireâs warmth has evaporated, leaving the late autumn chill on Dexâs fingertips, his nose. He cannot hear his drunken peers and, more than that, he does not think of them. He tastes sixty cent beer and salvation and he has more important things to worry about.
After walking for hours, he turns the final corner, and there is a boy.
âIâve been waiting for you,â the boy says.
âSorry,â Dex says. He dreams he is small. âI tried to be quick butââ
The boy shakes his head. âIt doesnât matter now.â The boy grab Dexâs wrist. His fingers are cold. He pulls Dex close. Dex comes to his chin, stares up at him with a broken back neck.
Moments before their lips meet, Dex realizes whatâs wrong.
âYouâre not Luke,â he says.
Nursey doesnât stop to respond. His mouth, on Dexâs, is cold.
Dex wakes up, shivering in June, in an unfamiliar bed. He wants to go home. He wants to call Nursey. He turns over, instead, and tries to fall back asleep.
*~*~*
âIs the apartment nice?â Ma asks, when she calls the next morning.
Dex bends to grab a water bottle from his fridge. âItâs clean,â he says, pressing the bottle against his red, sweating neck. âItâs in a good location.â
âIt was so nice of them to set you up with a place,â Ma says.
Dex nods, taking a breath. âYeah, I got lucky.â
âIt wasnât luck,â Ma says. âYou worked hard.â
Dex breathes.
âYouâre breathing funny,â she says. Hesitant, âAre you okay?â
He shakes his head at nothing. âYeah, Iâm fine, Ma. You just caught me right as I finished my run.â
âOh. You mustâve been up early.â Dex doesnât know what to say to that, and doesnât really want to explain that he woke up in the middle of the night after dreaming a memory all twisted and couldnât force himself back to sleep, so he doesnât say anything. After a moment, Ma asks, âIs there a nice running route nearby?â
âThereâs a park close enough to go through.â He takes a quick sip of his water. âItâs nothing like home, though.â
âWell.â Ma fiddles with somethingâa pen or a piece of scrap paper in front of her. âItâs a good opportunity.â
âI know, Ma. IâmâIâm glad to be here.âÂ
âGood.â She lets out an audible breath.Â
Dex can picture her, curled small against the phone, fiddling with a pen. Sheâs probably sitting in the kitchen, at the end of the table they squished in there. They use it as a kidsâ table during family gatherings, but itâs otherwise just a junk surface for every odd end they bring into the house. Every few months Ma will get stressed at work, or worried about money, or someone in the family will get sick, and sheâll decide that itâs time to go through all the junk and keep the table clean for once, God damn it. Now, itâs probably half organized, half mess. Sheâd only started a week ago, when Dex got home from Samwell to pack for New York.
âGood,â Ma says again. âThis really is a good opportunity. The company is great, right? And it will give you experience.â Dex hums, sipping his water. âAndâand you wonât be alone, right? You have thatâthat friend of yours, Nurse something?â
Dex stops drinking. The water bottle sweats in his hand, one chilled droplet sliding down his skin. âYeah,â Dex says, âhe lives nearby.â
âGood.â Ma taps some more, with the pen. âGood.â
Dex puts down the water bottle and wipes his hand off on his gym shorts. âHowâs cleaning going, Ma?â
âOh. You know, itâs getting there.â
âThis timeâs the charm, Iâm sure. As long as Dad remembers to keep it clean.â
âYes, yes. He has to get better about that.â Dex breathes. Tries to think up another thing to say that wonât lead anywhere that makes Ma tap. He canât think of anything. Ma says, âWe all have to get better about things, though.â
Dex tangles his fingers in the fabric of his shorts. âIâIâve got to go shower, Ma, but Iâll call you, okay?â
âOhâokay.â She hesitates, and Dex thinks about just hanging up. âWe love you.â
âI love you, too.â Dex picks up the cap from his water bottle. Ma doesnât say anything more. âOkay, bye, Ma.â He hangs up, cutting her off in the middle of a second-too-late goodbye. He debates calling back to apologize.
He ends up leaving his phone on the counter, chugging the rest of his water, and stripping on the way to his shower. Whatever heat the run in the summer city air had given him has since disappeared, leaving his skin chilled, shivering.
*~*~*
The dreams donât stop.
The next one is in a bathroom. Dex doesnât remember the tile or the shower curtain with little blue whales on it, but he knows somehow that itâs Lukeâs childhood bathroom. Downstairs a graduation party ensues, clean fun music simmering through the floorboards as Dex is nudged back into the wall.
Cold hands push under his shirt, nails catching. Cool breath hits his neck, wet, and he shivers. He is not drunk. He is worrying, about Lukeâs parents, about the other guests. People here know him, know his family. This is a bad idea.
âWe should go back,â he says, in the dream. He didnât say it, back when this happened. âThis is a bad idea.â
âYou never go along with my ideas, Poindoodle.â Nursey laughs into Dexâs chin. âCome on, just try one play. I think we could make the two headed beast work.â
This is wrong, Dex thinks, and opens his eyes to the soft grey ceiling of his New York apartment.
*~*~*
âGood work so far, Will.â
Dex looks up from his screen as his boss raps his knuckles against Dexâs monitor. Dexâs fingers pause on the keyboard and he smiles. âThank you, sir.â
Dexâs boss shakes his head. âCall me Hugh. I donât feel old enough to be a sir yet.â
Dex inclines his head. âThank you, Hugh.â
Hugh smiles, wide, and lifts his coffee mug. âKeep it up,â he says, and heads into his office. The walls of his office are see-through, all made of glass, and Dexâs eyes follow him without thought as he sits down at his desk. The building they work in is nice enough, clean, lots of glass that lets in sunlight. Itâs nothing like Dex had been picturing, some dark room where they code for hours on end with no break. Dex likes it. Likes it here. Likes the people. To think such a thing feels almost like a betrayal, like he shouldnât be enjoying this place of exile, but he canât help it.
Dex returns his attention to his code. He lets the logic of the work soothe his brain, until thoughts of trading in worn wood for clean glass and disguised disappointment for blatant pride leave the forefront of his mind. He just works, and doesnât think, and enjoys every moment.
Sometime later, his phone buzzes.
whatâs up willy p, ready to hit the town this weekend :PPP
Dex stares at the screen until it goes to black. He turns over his phone and pushes it away, to focus on work, and two minutes later has to restrain himself from looking when it buzzes once again.
*~*~*
Not all of the dreams have Nursey in them.
âGood work so far, Will,â Luke pants into Dexâs neck.
They are in a carâLukeâs probably, it has the fancy leather seats and the driverâs side window isnât stuck perpetually open. The air tastes like sweat and the windows are fogged, obscuring the beach outside with its black, freezing water.
Lukeâs fingers scrape at the base of Dexâs back. âKeep it up,â he says, grin wide against Dexâs shoulder. âKeep it up, keep it up.â
Dex stares at the glassy waves. They loom ever closer, higher and higher tide until they reach the tires of the car. The air tastes more and more like salt until itâs dripping from his tongue. The car has filled with the sea. Luke is cold, like the water, and he keeps saying his lines, âGood work,â until Dex opens his eyes to a grey ceiling, alone.
*~*~*
On Friday afternoon, Dex texts Nursey back.
Iâm not up for anything crazy. Still settling in.
Dex grabs his thingsâwallet, keys, sticky note reminding him to call Maâand bids goodbye to the few left in the office, Hugh and a nice girl named Kate a few desks over heâs chatted with during their coffee breaks.
Nursey responds by the time Dex reaches the street. no p dude. wanna come over and watch a movie?
Dex falls into step with the endless, faceless mass of people. The city buildings around him cut into the sky, grey, unyielding. He needs something like fresh air.
What movie? he asks.
;)Â Nursey sends back.
Dex breathes. Okay.
*~*~*
Nurseyâs brownstone is tall and clean and, surprisingly, cozy. Dex was picturing something styled out of a magazine, hard edges and white and unwelcoming. Nursey welcomes Dex into a house full of oranges and deep browns and yellows with a big smile. Heâs wearing a t-shirt and Samwell branded shorts. He is not wearing socks.
âDude,â he says, emphatic, and pulls Dex into a hug. âFeels like itâs been years, bro.â
Dex hugs back, automatic. âItâs been three weeks, Nursey. Chill.â
Nursey laughs, chest rumbling against Dexâs. His back shakes, sweaty and warm, under Dexâs hands. âShut up,â he says, pulling back. âYouâre allowed to say you missed me, too.â
Dex scrunches his eyebrows. âDid you say you missed me? I didnât hear that part.â
Nursey laughs again. With all the colors around him, he looks like sunshine. Dex skitters his eyes away, blistering. Nursey coughs. âWeâll be in the living room tonight,â he says, walking towards one of the open doorways. Dex follows. âIâve got snacks and shit, and my dad made food and put it in some containers before he left but I donât know what it is.â
âHeâs not here?â Dex asks, looking at the old concert posters on the far wall, next to a long stretch of built in bookcases, all filled to the brim.
âNah, he left on a business trip on Wednesday. Mom and Mama have been gone since Monday. Date vacation.â Nursey flops onto a leather couch, plush. With limbs thrown about, he embodies coziness. Despite the heat outside, the air conditioner keeps it nice inside, and the idea of climbing onto the couch with him is irritatingly desirable.
âYouâre here alone?â Dex asks, taking a seat on the other end of the sectional.
Nursey grins. âNot anymore, now that I have you.â He flutters his eyelashes at Dex. Dex laughs and says, âShut up,â and doesnât think about it any more than that.
*~*~*
When Dex gets home that night, after several movies, more than half of them Very Bad, full of popcorn and homemade food and laughter heâd forgotten the taste of, he gets into bed alone with his grey foreign ceiling and does not dream of anything.
*~*~*
âIâm glad work is going well,â Ma says, when Dex calls her in the morning. Sheâs on speaker phone, he can tell, while she works around the house.
âMe too.â Dex stirs the eggs in his pan. Eating Nurseyâs dadâs food reminded him that he could actually use the kitchen in his temporary apartment. After his run, he decided to start easy, with breakfast.
âThat girl you mentioned, Kate, she sounds nice.â
âShe is.â He scrapes some cooked egg from the bottom of the pan and swirls around the yolks a bit. âSheâs been working there for about two years now and she says itâs a nice place.â
âThatâs good.â On Maâs end, thereâs some movement, probably throwing something out because thereâs a soft swooshing sound, like the trash can makes. âHave you been able to do some fun things around the city yet? Maybe with your new coworkers?â
âKate invited me out to dinner next weekend.â Dex turns down the heat and continues to scrape.
The movement noises stop. âOh! How nice of her.â
âThe restaurant is supposed to be really good. Her fiancĂŠ is the head chef there.â Dex checks on his toast just as they pop and he carefully plucks them from the toaster.
âOh.â
Dex hums, dropping the toast on his plate and turning to find the eggs done. âI also watched some movies with Nursey last night.â He deposits the eggs next to the toast and then hurries to check the bacon before it gets too crispy.
âOh. Your aunt and I wanted to see a movie, but nothing was playing that we liked.â Distantly, Dex hears tapping of something, probably as Ma cleans.
Dex pulls out the tray of bacon. âWe didnât go to the theaters, so we could just stream.â
âHe came to your apartment?â
Dex uses tongs to transfer the bacon to his plate. âI went to his familyâs brownstone.â Satisfied, he gets the pre-poured glass of orange juice out from the fridge.
Ma hums. âWere his parents nice?â
Dex gathers together his plate, utensils, napkin, drink, and phone onto a tray and carries it out to the living room. âThey were traveling, but Iâve met them before. Theyâre nice.â
âOh.â
Dex settles his things down on the coffee table and sits on the couch, refraining from digging in for a moment to admire his handy work. It isnât amazing by any means, but since being home, since finals, the playoffs, even before that when the stove was temporarily disengaged, he hasnât had a chance to make food for himself, really. He almost wants to snap a picture.
âAre youââ
Dex looks away from his plate, to his phone sitting next to it. He picks it up and turns off speaker. âWhat, Ma?â
âNothing. Nothing.â
Dex drags his thumb against the case. Either the lack of AC or keeping up the call has made his phone heat up. Against his cheek, it itches. âEverything okay, Ma?â
âYes. Yes, of course. I justââ Dex hears the tapping, louder now that itâs in his ear. âI just want you to remember why youâre there. Youâre working. This is for your future.â
The uncomfortable wrinkles appear between his eyebrows. âI know, Ma.â
âGood. I just donât want you toââ
âTo what, Ma?â
She doesnât say anything for a moment. Tapping fills the silence. âIâm glad youâre having a good time so far,â she says, quiet. âIâll let you go. Have a nice day.â
âYou, too.â
âI love you.â
âI love you, too.â
Ma hangs up. Dex drops his phone from his ear, hot in his hand now. He breathes for a moment and then picks up the tray. He digs into his eggs and, though theyâve just started to go cold, it tastes good enough.
*~*~*
He dreams heâs trapped under sheets.
Fingers curl in his hair, tight. His scalp hurts, but he keeps going, stops breathing. Heâs smothered under blankets, but heâs shivering. Every time he tries to surface, the hands on his head hold him steady.
After long, long minutes, the sheets flood with saltwater and he breaks through the waves and gulps in air. The world is still freezing but he can breathe. He can breathe.
âBe quiet,â Nursey rasps, cold breath against Dexâs ears. âDonât want to wake anyone up.â
Nursey is swallowed by the sheets and Dex is left floating, freezing, staring at the ceiling of his own childhood bedroom. The open window lets in chilled winter air that flutters the drapes, dark blue that blends in with the water heâs drowning in. Ma could walk in at any moment. Jay could hear them, just a few walls away. What if someone walks in? What would happen then?
When Dex opens his eyes, heâs staring at the grey ceiling again. He canât breathe, even though the air is air, and not water. He grabs at his chest and tries to press down, like he could manually make his lungs work.
With his free hand he reaches for the nightstand, the light, and floods the room with yellow. He sits up, gasping, and knocks his phone off the table, disconnecting it from the charger. Grabbing for it, because it seems important in the moment, he sees thereâs a notification.
y tf are safiya nygaardâs videos so entertaining
itâs fucking 3 in the morning and iâm watching her wear clear plastic jeans for a week
like wtf
Dex realizes that he still canât breathe, but now because laughter is bubbling in his chest and clogging up his throat. He laughs, hard and long and unbearable, until his whole body aches.
He lies back in his bed, on land, now. He types back a message.
Who let you on YouTube this late at night? You know how easy you fall into holes.
The three dots appear within seconds.
i am but a simple man with no self restraint
The dots appear again, disappear, and reappear.
you would understand if you watched her
Dex grabs for his laptop, sitting by the foot of his bed. He double checks the name and clicks on a random video about a merged Ugg and Teva shoe.
What⌠I.. what? Teva Uggs?
ur watching!!
I donât understand
itâs Art dexington appreciate it
Dex doesnât end up falling back asleep for a while, and getting up for work that morning is hell, but when he lies back down in bed with a buzzing phone and too-bright computer screen, heâs not drowning.
*~*~*
Someone taps Dexâs shoulder and he turns to find Kate smiling pleasantly at him. He takes out one earbud.
âBreak time!â she says.
Dex laughs. âWouldnât want to be productive for too long.â
âExactly.â
He turns off the music he was listening to to concentrateâsome Spotify playlist Nursey made him to âbe more productiveâ that just tends to make Dex laugh at inopportune momentsâand then he joins Kate in the break room as she talks at him about dinner the other night.
âGeorge says to come back whenever you want, he loves when people love his food, itâs a little ridiculous.â She fiddles with the coffee maker as Dex grabs his smoothie from the fridge. Heâs taken to making himself smoothies in the morning and bringing them in for his breaks, since heâs never loved coffee all that much.
âIâve been telling my friend all about it and heâs begging me to take him now, so tell George he can expect me back soon. My friend is pretty pushy.â
âPerfect, then heâll stop bothering me about it.â Kate reaches out without looking. âCould you pass the cream?â
Dex dutifully hands her the cream.
âYouâre coming to the office party next week right?â She fixes her coffee the way she likes it and turns to Dex, sipping. Her eyes are wide and clear that Dexâs answer should and will be yes. Itâs a bit like Bittyâs captain look and it curls something sharp and sad in Dexâs chest. Going back to school in August is going to be so very different without him.
âI didnât know there was a party next week,â Dex says, licking excess smoothie from his upper lip. âWhatâs it for?â
âJennyâs birthday. Thereâs gonna be a cake.â
âHow can I say no to cake?â
Kate grins. âYou can bring a guest, too. We need fresh meat at these things. Also if you donât bring a date someone is going to try to set you up with someone and believe me, you do not want to get stuck on a date with Karenâs second cousin Stew. Heâs basically the opposite of whatever a hoot is.â
Dex snorts into his smoothie. âNoted.â
Dexâs phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out without thinking twice. He doesnât check it while heâs working and there are a few messages.
buzzfeed unsolved is THE SHIT
shane and ryan r defo u and me but i canât tell whoâs who. you believe in ghosts right??
ur homework is to watch every episode tonight and then come sleep in my apartment bc iâm scared af rn
Dex smiles and quickly types out a response.
Sounds like the writing is going well.
âWhoâs that?â Kate pushes onto her tiptoes to look over the lip of Dexâs phone screen.
âMy friend from school.â Dex keeps his phone out long enough to see Nurseyâs responseâ f offâ and then shoves it back in his pocket. âHeâs supposed to be writing a short story for the publication heâs working with over the summer and heâs getting a little sidetracked.â
âOoh, a humanities. How did we meet someone from the Other Side?â Kate grins into her coffee.
âHeâs on the hockey team with me.â
Kate hums. âHockey, I shouldâve known.â
âHuh?â
âGeorge and I were betting that you played some kind of sport. I thought basketball because youâre so tall, but he guessed baseball.â She scrunches up her nose. âBasketballâs closer, I think.â
Dex huffs, laughing a little. âWhat was the prize?â
Kate is staring at nothing, face scrunched up, and then blinks, hearing Dex, apparently. She waves her hand dismissively. âOh, I canât tell you that, HR would have a fit.â She sips her coffee again and Dex canât help the volume of the laugh he lets out.
*~*~*
In the next dream, the sun is high and bright and dead in the sky.
âYouâre good,â Luke says, walking next to him on the sidewalk. The ground is too hard against Dexâs feet, even through his sneakers. He turns and Luke is Luke, but also Jack. They speak at once. âIf you work hard, you could take this somewhere.â
âYou really think so?â Dex asks. He is small. Short. He looks up at Jack and his neck aches.
Luke grins, all teeth. âI really do.â
Dex wakes up reaching for his phone. Two texts wait for him, and he breathes as he makes his shaking fingers type out a response.
*~*~*
âI canât believe you work a block away from my favorite coffee shop and itâs taken you this long to meet me on your lunch break.â Nursey tsks, reaching over to steal a bit of Dexâs muffin.
Dex slaps lightly at his hand, but Nursey still escapes with a sizable crumb. âIâve been here for less than a month, it isnât that long.â
âItâs ages,â Nursey insists, fingers still in his mouth as he speaks.
Dex winces to smother his smile. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âYouâre ridiculous,â Nursey retorts, and then sticks out his tongue to further prove it.
Dex huffs, sipping his smoothie to keep himself from doing something stupid, like responding. âHowâs writing going?â he asks, when heâs taken his sip.
Nursey hums, swirling a mixing stick through his iced coffee. âPretty good. I have a working draft done, but it needs some serious editing.â
âThatâs good, dude. âSwawesome, even.â
Nursey grins around his straw. ââSwawesome,â he repeats. âC would be proud.â
âYou talk to him recently?â Dex picks at his muffin.
âYesterday, actually. Training is going well.â
Dex chews thoughtfully. âSâgood. Last time I talked to him he was more worried about Bitty than the NHL.â
âOh, he definitely still is.â Nursey laughs and makes another dive for Dexâs muffin. Dex deftly moves the plate out of the line of fire.
âIt took him two weeks to pick a wall color,â Dex says, pausing to drink his smoothie. âAnd Jack must be drowning in all the tester bakes.â
âLetâs be real, though, if Bitty Bakes ever does open itâs gonna be the sickest bakery of all time.â
Dex inclines his head, slowly nodding. âOh, Iâll definitely be spending my entire paycheck on imported pastries.â
âIf you run out we can share my trust fund,â Nursey says, batting his eyelashes.
The laughter tastes so pleasant andâmore than thatâfamiliar on Dexâs tongue that he doesnât even do anything as Nursey makes another grab for his muffin.
*~*~*
The worst dreams are ones that arenât really memories at all.
Itâs a beach, but the sand is blue and the ocean is clear and all Dex can see is sunshine, though he canât feel a thing. Nursey is next to him and their hands are stuck in the sand, twisted together and hiding.
âI love you,â Nursey says, and itâs his voice and his words except not, because Dex knows itâs wrong, know itâs his brain that made it all up, and he starts running, slipping against the sand.
He trips and falls onto his knees and he looks up and itâs Luke and heâs grinning and looming and huge and he speaks, âQuiet, kid, quiet or theyâll hear you,â and for some reason Dex knows they is Nursey and he swallows every breath, worried it will sound like a scream, and when he wakes up he is, screaming, except no sound will come out and heâs just broken with his throat open and empty andâ
He presses call without thinking and Nursey answers on the third ring.
âDexâwhatââ
âCan youâjustââ Dex swallows, tries again. âJust talk. Please.â
âDex, whatâs goingââ
âPlease.â
âIâuh. Okay.â
And he does. He talks, about the funny conversation he had with his mama today and these cool shoes he saw on Instagram and the pretty clouds he saw yesterday and this fruity drink he wants to try at a bar downtown that heâs going to drag Dex to whether he wants to go or not.
And sometime later, Dex falls asleep. He wakes up with his phone warm and nearly dead against his ear and a text from Nursey asking if everythingâs g and Dex doesnât respond, half because Nursey used g for good and half because he doesnât know the answer.
*~*~*
His old running route in Maine took him through the woods. Past gnarled roots that curled, mischievous, and tried to trip him up, under a canopy of green that shivered in the early morning wind. He liked to wake up with the sun, at home, liked the quiet moments before the rest of town woke up and started looking at him. So heâd wake and run and take his path until the trees gave way to a dusky beach, accompanied by a barely awake sun.
A lot of the time, the water would still be smeared with the red hues of the fading sunrise, and Dex would stand and pant and stare and think about nothing, or Samwell, orâlater onâNursey.
It was a nice path, back home. Even if it would inevitably bring him back to houses that creaked under his footsteps, full of people that couldnât look away until he met their gaze.
In New York, he runs against sidewalk. Smooth and uncomplicated, it brings him to a small park, with a few trees and some grass and, occasionally, some pigeons. He takes the path set out for him there and doesnât have to think about winding roots, but does, anyway. He thinks about how easy it is without them, and how much he misses them, and wonders what that means before the adrenaline in his body pulses in his temples and he stops thinking of much all together.
He returns to his apartment and guzzles down water and makes himself breakfast and sometimes calls Ma and tries not to think about how different his life is here, tries not to categorize the things he misses, and the things heâs glad to be without.
He runs to forget, and it doesnât always work, but it doesnât mean he canât try.
*~*~*
Jennyâs birthday party is, surprisingly, fun. Nursey texts him in the middle of the afternoon apologizing, saying that his meeting is running late and he might not be there in time, but he will be there. Dex, dejected, expects the party to suck, but when they all clock out and the cake is wheeled out on one of the trays they typically use for mail and Kate grabs the AUX cord for the speakers, things actually become interesting.
Itâs not quite a kegsterânothing is quite like a kegsterâbut his coworkers are nice, funny people and the music is lively and the cake, while not Bittyâs, is pretty damn good. Nursey texts him intermittent updates with ridiculous comments and Dex, after Karen is drawn to the dance floor to Cotton Eyed Joe, takes up a spot by the wall with his cake and his phone and snickers down icing to type out a response to do you think they sell candles that smell like the subway.
Then, suddenly, Hugh pops up.
âWill, hi,â he says, holding his own plate of cake. âThought Iâd come over and say hello, now that Karenâs let you go.â
Dex swallows a bite of cake and shoves his phone in his pocket. âOh, Karen wasnât holding me hostage or anything. We were talking apple pie recipes.â
âGood to hear she wasnât trying to get you to meet Stew.â Hugh leans in, secretive and exaggerated. âI donât know if anyoneâs told you, but he isnât quite the catch she makes him out to be.â
Dex laughs, because Hugh is his boss and you laugh when your boss makes a joke. âIâve been warned.â
âGood, good.â Hugh leans back, nodding. The silence hovers for a second, then he asks, âHowâve you been liking it here?â
âNew York or the company?â
Hugh shrugs. âEither. Both.â
âNew York Iâm liking more than I thought I would. Iâm from Maine,â Dex says, smiling in that way Nursey describes as country-boy-sheepish, âso Iâm used to some greenery, but the city has its perks too.â
âGood, good!â Hugh grins. âI grew up in the country too. Northern Michigan. It sure is an adjustment. But I think itâs worth it.â
âWorking here has helped,â Dex says, and if Nursey was here heâd probably cough to poorly disguise a kiss up but he isnât really lying. Working here has proved to him that he would enjoy going into this field, and while he is keeping his options open, thatâs a good thing to know.
âOh, Iâm glad,â Hugh says, gesturing haphazardly with his cake. âWeâre lucky to have you here.â
âThank you, sirâHugh.â
Hugh smiles, and they stand there for a beat, two, and then he says, âForgive me if this is inappropriate, but are you seeing anyone?â
Dex stiffens. Hugh isnâtâ? Heâs Dexâs boss, he canâtâis he? Itâs like ice, gone down Dexâs back, through his veins. He wants to pinch himself, almost. Is he dreaming? But Luke never said those words before. But the dreams have been stranger lately. Is itâ?
âBecause my brother,â Hugh continues to speak, unaware, âjust got out of college and I couldnât help but notice the Bruins t-shirt you had on last Friday and he is the biggest hockey fanââ
Nursey is there, suddenly, and heâs right there, bumping his shoulder into Dexâs. Heâs out of breath and smiling and warm and Dex leans back into him without thinking. âI am so sorry Iâm late,â heâs saying, to Dex, and then to Hugh, âIâm sorry, I just completely interrupted you. Iâm Nurseyâwell, Derek, but everyone calls me Nursey, so take your pick.â Then, to Dex, âDo you go as Dex or William here?â He scrunches up his face. âWilliam. Ew. You sound like an uncle.â
âI was named after my uncle,â Dex says, vaguely.
Nursey nods. âExactly.â
Hugh coughs. âMy apologies, Will. I didnât knowâwell. I see now.â He smiles, tight. âIâll let you two catch up,â he says, lifting his cake, untouched, in parting.
âWhat was that about?â Nursey ask, peering after him obviously. âOoh, is that cake?â
Dex hands over the rest of his second slice. He isnât much hungry now.
âYou will not believe my trip here,â Nursey says, beginning to eat. âIt was, like, totally unchill, dude.â
Nursey hasnât moved, still pressed up against Dexâs shoulder. Dex takes a deep breath. âTell me about it,â he says, and Nursey does.
*~*~*
ââand all the ladies at church say hi,â Ma says, over speaker phone as she works around the kitchen.Â
The table, a continuous project, has been tabled for nowâpun intendedâfor the sake of getting the dishes clean. Ma has to yell over the roar of the faucet. Dex is doing his own tidying as he folds laundry and listens to Ma talk. She always did used to talk while doing chores, Dex following her around, soothed by the words and the humming and the simplicity. Itâs been a while since theyâve done chores together, and the familiarity, the comfort, mellows an ache in Dexâs chest.
âThey all worry for you down in the big city,â Ma says, scrubbing audibly. âThey donât like the idea of a sweet country boy like you surrounded by all that crime and greyness.â
âYou can tell them Iâm holding my own,â Dex says, which makes Ma laugh a little, the short chuckle thing that he inherited from her.
âI will,â she says. A small clatter comes over the line as she, presumably, adds a dish to the drying rack. âTheyâre all in a tizzy planning for the July 4th social. Iâve been assigned drink coordination, which really means fielding arguments between Mrs. McMahon and Mrs. Fielding about soda over spirits, even though we all know weâre going to end up with the same drinks we always get and one of the rotten teenage boys is going to spike the lemonade despite whatever ridiculousness Mr. Spaulding tries to rig up.â
Dex smiles, remembering. When he was a kid and accidentally drank some of the spiked lemonade and wouldnât stop giggling the whole ride home, when he was a teen and helped his then-girlfriend Isabelle spike it herself, when he was back from college and roped into standing watch over the lemonade but let one of the teens through anyway, on account of tradition.
âOh, and youâll never guess who I ran into in the grocery store the other day,â Ma continues as Dex reminisces. He probably could guessâthereâs only so many people in their town, after allâbut he lets Ma tell it how she wants as he searches for the pair to the sock in his hand. âDo you remember your old hockey captain? Luke Rossi?â
Dex freezes with his hand buried in laundry. A chill runs through the apartment.
âI ran into his mother,â Ma continues without a response. âShe looks greatâshe says itâs yoga! I wish I had the time for something like that. But she was telling me all about Lukeâyou remember him, he was your hockey captain back when you were what? A sophomore?â
âA freshman,â Dex says, rough.
âOh, thatâs right. Well, anyway, his mother was telling me, heâs working with some big company out in Boston. Heâs engaged! His mother says the girl is sweet as all get out, a tiny little thing. And sheâs one of us, a ginger!â
Dex sits back on his couch. Small. Ginger.
âHis motherâs just thrilled. It must be so nice to have a son engaged. Jayâs been with Kelsey for years, but who knows with him. Maybe I should send him Lukeâs way, let that boy rub off on him!â Ma laughs. âMaybe he could rub off on you, too.â
A sick kind of laugh bubbles up in Dexâs throat. He swallows.
âIt was just such a surprise. I knew all those kids you boys were friends with in high school, but I never get to hear what happens to them after, really. Luke was such a nice boy, too. It was just nice to hear about him.â
Nice. Yeah.
*~*~*
He dreams he is swallowing ice.
Someoneâs mouth is on his and their tongue is heavy, leaden. Dexâs mouth catches on it, too cold, and it rips the skin from his lips until theyâre bloodied. Copper stains everything, his tongue and eyes, and it rushes until he canât hear anything but the blood.
He tries to open his eyes, and between one blink and the next the boy above him shifts, blond hair and blue eyes and too many teeth, then green and smile and salvation, and back again, sickening, spinning.
He manages to push himself away, sits up in whatever bed, ocean, driftwood, heâs on. Ma stands in the doorway. âLuke was such a nice boy,â she says, smiling, laughing. âThat friend of yours, Nurse something? Is he a nice boy?â she asks, frowning suddenly, eyes intent.
âYouâre wrong,â Dex goes to say, but chokes on the blood on his lips. He looks back over to the end of the bed, where Luke or Nursey or whoever is sitting, except itâs not just them anymore, itâs Jack and Hugh and Bitty, even, and theyâre all staring at him.
âGood work,â they say, âIf you work hard, you could take this somewhere,â they say, âKeep it up,â they say.
âSheâs one of us,â Ma says, âMaybe he could rub off on you,â she says, âNice boy,â she says.
Through it all, he can hear Nursey. âI love you,â shivers down Dexâs spine, ice. Dex swallows and swallows and tries to push through the rest of the voices to find Nursey in the haze.
Dex wakes up running and doesnâtâcanâtâstop.
*~*~*
The sky is dark and the world is dizzyingly bright when Dex knocks on Nurseyâs front door.
By all rights, it should be too warm to stomach. Late June, with all these people stuffed into one little place, blistering. But Dex clutches his jacket to his body, shivering. He canât get warm. He can never get warm.
âDex?â Nursey answers the door with a frown. Dexâs eyes catch on it and canât pull away.
âCan I come in?â he asks.
âIâokay?â
Dex nods. He steps inside, around Nursey, and their arms brush. It burns.
âWhatâs going on?â Nursey asks, shutting the door.
âAre your parents home?â Dex turns around to face him. The doorâbig and green behind Nurseyâbrings out the deeper green tones in his worried eyes. Nurseyâs eyes have always made Dex homesick. Now, he aches.
âNo,â Nursey says. âMomâs in Milan and Dadâs in Chicago and Mamaâsheâs somewhere in the UK. Why are youââ
âI need to talk to you.â
âOkay?â His face is all scrunched and his hairâs a little messy, curls hanging over his forehead, and heâs soft in Samwell pajama bottoms and so fucking gorgeous and Dexâs whole body is shaking, shivering, freezing.
âIâIâve been having these dreams,â Dex says, hands clenching in his pockets. âFor months now, theseâthese dreams aboutââ He swallows and shakes his head. âAnd now heâs engaged and it doesnâtâit doesnât make sense, heâhe shouldnât get to move on when Iâm drowning every fucking night, I donâtâIââ
âDex.â Nursey is closer. Hands up, palms forward. Frowning. âWhat are you talking about?â
Dex shakes his head, but all of him is shaking and he doesnâtâhe shouldnât have come here. His broken brain isnât Nurseyâs problem, just because heâs in New York doesnât mean theyâre more than what they were before all this. Just because Dexâs home isnât home anymore doesnât mean he can build one in Nursey.
âIâmâIâm sorry, I shouldnâtâI should go.â His mouth tastes like a panic attack. How did he make the decision to come here in the middle of the night?
âDex.â Nursey grabs onto Dexâs forearm, a brand. âSit down. Please.â
Dex stares at Nurseyâs hand. He hasnât been warm inâit feels like years, now. It feels like he went out into the Maine winter one year with a boyâs hand curled around his wrist and frost spread from that point out and he never got warm again.
âNursey,â Dex says, the word broken like so many shards of ice, and Nurseyâs grip on his arm stutters, hesitation. Dex, without thinking, breaks the hold, and in the next moment he has his mouth pressed against Nursey and itâs warm, itâs warm, itâsâ
Dex doesnât know if heâs been alive, before this. The heat from Nurseyâs mouth, soft and surprised and thenâfirmer, more intent, it warms him from the bones out, until his skin itches with it, sings. Dex sighs into it, slumps.
Hands come up to his cheeks, pull him back, so soft. âDex,â Nursey says, quiet. âCan we please sit down?â
Okay, Dex thinks. He breathes. Okay.
*~*~*
Nursey makes them cocoa. In July.
Dex holds the mug between his shaking hands and explains, in starts, but mostly stops. I had this captain when I was a kid, he says, and then, not a kid, he says. Well.
âI was fourteen,â he says. âHe wasâolder. I wantedâI wanted to be good for him.â
I was, he says, but doesnât quite make the words work.
âMa never knew. No one ever knew. Ma, though, she loved him. Thought heâbrought me out of my shell.â He brushes his thumbs along the sides of the mug, takes a sip and licks marshmallow off his lip.
He jumps in time. âAfter Bitty and Jackâafter the kiss, home wasnâtâhome. Maybe before that, too, butâbut after the kiss, everyone knew, they knew I was.â He shakes his head. âIt was hard to be there. So I came here.â
She doesnât, he says. She thinks, he says. âMa thinks youâre gay, because you live in New York, and you go to Samwell, and itâs easier to think itâsâitâs you. Easier than thinking itâs me.â
Nursey holds back questions. Dex swallows. Itâs me, he says. I talk about you. Too much. She worries. She thinksâshe sees. Sees that Iâthat I loveâhm. âShe doesnât like it,â he says, without finishing the last sentence. âIt worries her. It worries me, I guess.â
He tries to put it together. The dreamsâthey pulled it all together. âShe looks at Luke and she doesnâtâshe likes him, heâs a nice boy, but heâhe left me with all of theseâthese things, the things where I canât have a normal relationship with my fucking boss, and all thisâthis cold in my body, and she doesnâtâshe likes him when he is so cold and she doesnât like you when youâre so warm and it justâI couldnât stop thinking about how wrong it was and how angry it made me and Nursey, itâs justâitâs soâyouâre soââ
Nursey curls his mug-warm hand over Dexâs knee. âHey,â he says, quiet. âItâs okay.â
âItâs not,â Dex says, and he can feel the way his eyes are rimmed red, itchy, and hear the hoarseness in his throat, and feel the way that Nurseyâs hand burns against his skin, and he wishes that heâd done this different, more coherently, earlier.
âNo,â Nursey agrees, âitâs not. But Iâitâs late. And weâre both tired. We can talk more in the morning, if you want. But I thinkâI think we both need to sleep.â
Dex swallows. He tastes cocoa and gratitude andâthick, clinging love. âOkay,â he breathes.
Nursey leads him up to a bedroom filled with books. Mussed blankets encourage Dex into the bed. Nursey gets in on the other side. Itâs cozy and the duvet is heavy against his aching body and the ceiling is blue and Dex is not alone.
Nursey curls his hand around Dexâs, under the blankets. Dex curls back, and squeezes.
âI love,â Dex says and swallows.
âI know,â Nursey says, close, breath hot against Dexâs skin. âMe, too.â
Dex closes his eyes. He may dream. He may not. Either way, when he opens his eyes, he will not be cold.









