#chowdernursey

***

But telling Derek how he felt was easier said than done. It turned out he and Derek spent a lot of time around other people, especially now that the playoffs were in sight and midterms were in full swing. The closest Chris ever got to being alone with Derek was when they were hanging out with Will. And William Poindexter, though dear to Chris’s heart, was not famous for his ability to take hints.

Finally, a full five days after he talked to Cait, Chris found Derek in the weights room alone, doing his physical therapy exercises.

“Hey Nursey! Where’s Dex?”

“He’s at a midterm review thing, I think.”

“Cool! Alright! ‘Swawesome!”

Derek gave him a kind of odd look, and Chris realized he was acting nuts. He went over to a machine and started working out to cover the awkwardness.

This was definitely the moment. He and Derek were going to finish working out. Then they were going to walk back to the Haus, and Chris was going to tell Derek how he felt. Or maybe he would ask Derek out? Or maybe he should talk about being poly a little bit first, just to test the waters. Though Derek surely knew about polyamory. He was Derek Nurse! The coolest guy Chris knew!

Then it hit him. Derek Nurse was the coolest guy he knew. He single-handedly started the new hipster-prep trend at Samwell. He took all the hardest classes just because he could. He had a literal fan club.

Derek was so out of Chris’s league.

To make things worse, at that precise moment, Derek walked up to him, sculpted chest heaving, brown skin glowing, moss-green eyes crinkled, to ask, “Want to grab Annie’s before we go back to the Haus?”

“Yeah!” Chris was doomed. Utterly, utterly doomed.

***

Cait, as per usual, came in clutch.

They were dancing at Louis and Nursey’s #Epikegster2017, Nursey and Cait on either side of him. Chris was a little sloshed from losing several games of beer pong, and he wanted to just stay right there forever.

Derek was right in front of him, smiling his warmest, happiest smile. Chris’s favorite smile.

Chris loved him so much. So much. He had to say something. Do something. So Derek would know how loved he was.

The song faded and in the soft prelude to the next one, Chris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Derek’s lovely lovely cheek, just to say how wonderful he was.

When he pulled away Derek was staring at him, his head tilted in confusion.

Then Chris remembered. He and Derek didn’t do kissing. It wasn’t a thing with them. Fuck fuck fuck.

Cait yelled over the music, “Go! Talk!” and he felt her push him toward Derek.

Derek glanced at her and leaned forward. “Wanna go talk?”

Chris’s throat was suddenly very dry. He nodded.

Derek took his wrist and led him through the crowd, up to the second floor.

“Your room, or mine?”

“Mine?”

“Okay.”

Then he and Derek were standing on his Sharks area rug, staring at each other.

Chris’s heart rate was through the roof. “Can we, um, sit?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

They climbed up on Chris’s bed, where Chris at least had Sharkie, and he didn’t have to stare into Derek’s eyes.

Finally, Derek whispered, “You kissed me.”

Chris nodded. He did do that. That was true.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Okay. Why did you kiss me? Like, what did it mean, I mean.”

Chris closed his eyes. “Derek, I like you. Sooo much. And when you’re happy, I just. Love it. Seeing you so happy.”

Derek’s voice was even softer than before. “You want to kiss me when I’m happy?”

Chris had to look at him then. “Well, when you’re sad too. And sometimes when you tell bad puns! I just, want to kiss you. A lot. Whenever you should be kissed!”

“Whenever I should be kissed.” His eyes shone like stars. “Should I be kissed now?”

“Of course!”

“Kiss me. Please, kiss me.”

Chris could not say no to those eyes. He kissed Derek, and Derek’s lips were soft and sweet and his kiss was warm like hot chocolate shot with rum.

Chris pulled away sooner than he wanted. He had to know if this could really happen before he fell in too deep. “Derek, I love Cait so much.”

“I know.”

“I want to be with her! And I also I want to be with you! I really, really want to be with you both, equally.” He took a long deep breath, and asked, “Would that be okay with you?”

“Chris.” Derek leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “That would be so okay. More than okay. That sounds incredible. We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Oh!” For a moment, Chris was floating, then—“I’m going to kiss you again.”

They didn’t end up going back to the party.

***

In the morning, Chris snapped Cait a picture of him and Derek curled up in bed together, Derek nuzzling his chin. She sent him back a smug smile captioned, “You’re welcome.”

and bitty doesn’t seem to mind dex so he agrees, saying dex reminds him of a few of his daddy’s players and knows how to talk his language

(chowder isn’t close enough to bitty yet to recognize the red flag that is comparing dex to one of the football players from bitty’s past)

so bitty and chowder get coffee pretty frequently to meet and discuss what they’ve learned.

but the thing is, this has stopped being about getting the d-men to get along anymore, at least for chowder. they’re freshman, everyone’s kind of terrible as a freshman in one way or another. they’re both already maturing and growing as people, and chowder has it on good authority (bitty) that jack has talked to the boys himself, and probably had more of an effect. nursey and dex are already getting along better. 

and yet. the coffees keep happening. 

yes, chowder likes hanging out with bitty, but he’s starting to worry bitty will realize he’s bordering on obsessed with nursey. how could he not be though, when nursey’s so cool! and handsome! but also a goofy mess and a really emotional person, in private. 

but bitty doesn’t bring it up. he just smiles at chowder’s latest stories and counters with snippets of his own dealings with dex–how he taught dex to make bread this weekend, to surprise his mother over break; how dex taught him how to unclog the shower the other night; how dex got so angry when bitty told him about an argument he had with his father. 

(chowder doesn’t quite put it together, but he knows these conversations mean something.)

“we should all hang out,” chowder says one day, maybe early november. “all four of us. might be good for them.” 

“that’s a great idea,” bitty replies, looking up from his twitter feed. “rans and holtzy are throwing a party on friday, we could all pregame in my room?” 

so that’s how chowder ends up sitting on bitty’s bed, pressed up against nursey, a tervis tumbler of whipped cream flavored vodka in his hand. 

(bitty, it turns out, has an entire stash of weirdly flavored liquors he’s inherited from people like lardo and shitty who buy them, try them once, and hate them.)

it all happens in a weird, slow motion mess the way most things happen in pregames. 

first, chowder notices that dex–mr. ‘i only drink beer and whiskey’ poindexter–is sipping on the boxed wine bitty loves. even chowder thinks it tastes like terrible juice, but dex is choking it down for some ungodly reason. 

second, either nursey pregamed the pregame or he didn’t eat beforehand because he’s barely touched his drink but is all up in chowder’s space: leaning against him, touching him, laughing in his ear. chowder doesn’t mind in the least, but his cheeks have been hot since he sat down.

and third, dex and nursey are being…weirdly cordial. even on the ice, where they’ve learned to put the team first, they don’t act like this. but they keep exchanging weird looks, which makes chowder nervous.

a drink in, bitty decides to put on his beyonce party playlist, to “get them in the party mood.” nursey chirps him for it, but dex just smiles.

and of course if music is playing and alcohol is flowing, then bitty is dancing. chowder wishes he could dance like bitty, all confident and flirty, but his sister always tells him he dances like a pogo stick or a white suburban dad. 

“you gonna dance with your man?” nursey asks in an undertone, and chowder is bewildered. 

“my man?” he asks. “who’s my man?” 

“bits,” nursey elaborates. “i know it’s on the DL, but dex and i have been talking and we know about your coffee dates…” 

“those aren’t dates, those are- those are business meetings,” chowder says, because how else would he describe them? “we talk about- about important things.” 

“it’s okay,” nursey whispers. “i mean, obviously, but also, like, we won’t tell anyone-”

“we’re not dating!” chowder says a little too loud. it wouldn’t be a big deal, normally; one of the baristas at annie’s thought they were a couple the other day and it was a little funny then, totally harmless. but not coming from nursey, the guy chowder’s been pining after for months now. 

bitty stops dancing, eyes widening. dex is looking between them, bewildered. 

“oh.” nursey looked a bit ashamed, a bit confused. “uh, sorry for assuming?” 

“no, it’s fine,” bitty says quickly, clearing his throat. “who wants to do dirty girlscouts?” 

dex chokes on his wine. “excuse me?” 

nursey relaxes a little. “oh, sweet, we used to do those at school. shitty’s obsessed with ‘em.” 

“alright, boys, on your knees,” bitty says, and chowder watches dex’s face go from pink to cherry red. he rummages through the collection of bottles on his desk and pulls out a half-empty thing of peppermint schnapps. “i already stole the whipped cream and chocolate syrup just for this.” 

chowder and nursey hop off the bed to kneel next to dex. chowder goes first, taking the shots of syrups, schnapps, and whipped cream while bitty laughs and squirts a little extra cream onto the end of chowder’s nose. 

“i’ll get that,” nursey says, and before chowder can react nursey’s licked the whipped cream from his nose. bitty laughs again and dex tells him that’s gross, but chowder thinks he might pass out from how turned on he suddenly is. 

“c’mon, licky mcgee, your turn.” chowder watches in horror and wonderment as nursey takes the syrup and the schnapps alone, adam’s apple bobbing once, tantalizingly. nursey casts him a look with hooded eyes, and chowder feels like he might explode. 

then he looks over, at dex, who looks like he’s feeling the same as bitty stands over him and pours schnapps into his mouth, followed by the whipped cream. dex chokes on it a little, some spilling out the corner of his mouth, but he wipes it away and stares at bitty chugs schapps straight from the bottle. 

and that finally clicks for chowder. all of it, really. he can see the longing in dex’s eyes, the way bitty is showing off, the suggestion in nursey’s expressions…

“you wanna take a walk?” he asks nursey, probably too loudly. but dex and bitty are either ignoring him or hoping nursey will say yes, so when nursey does chowder has him out of the room and alone in seconds. 

they don’t walk far–just around the block where no one is watching–before chowder takes nursey’s hand. 

and chowder does not believe in things like subtlety or miscommunication. “this is what you want, right? because I really, really like you.” 

and nursey, astounded, answers chowder with a kiss. 

    They had been friends for a few weeks now. Nursey was the new apprentice at Jack Zimmermann’s prestigious flower shop, and Chowder had met him when taking over a freshly baked pie from his boss at the tattoo parlour. Nursey had been arms deep in big white lilies, his apron dusted with orange pollen and dirt, and had looked up with such a dishevelled expression that it had made Chowder snicker.  Chowder had put the pie aside and went over to help him carry them to the right place, admiring his handsome profile at the same time.

    They’d hit it off well, and five weeks later they had become close friends. Once they had both finished their shifts they would hang out together, catching movies or playing video games. The staff from both the tattoo parlour and the flower shop would often spend time together too, more so now that the owners of each were dating. Chowder found himself wanting to be with Nursey more and more with each day, and was well aware of the crush that was starting to develop.

    “Please?” Nursey begged him, purposely widening his green eyes and giving him an imploring look.

    “Why?” Chowder asked, raising an eyebrow at him and sounding baffled.

    “Because that douche by the bar won’t leave me alone,” Nursey whined, even going as far as pouting his lips at him. “I told him you were my boyfriend so he’d back off.”

    Chowder’s eyes flickered over to the counter, where there was a preppy looking guy eyeing them both suspiciously, as if he suspected Nursey’s story was fake. Their friendship appeared unlikely to most, especially as Nursey usually looked smart and clean cut with not a hair out of place, whereas Chowder sported punk styled hair with a long fringe, with piercings littering his face and elaborate tattoos decorating most of his body. So, he could understand why the guy doubted them.

    Chowder’s first instinct was to say no. Dating Nursey had been a pipedream for a while now, and he’d spent many nights dreaming about those big eyes and soft looking lips and careful hands. Pretending to date him would just be torture. He’d get a delicious taste of romance with him just for one night, and then have to return to being friends. He didn’t hate himself that much. He loved being Nursey’s friend, and he didn’t want to jeopardise that.

    But Nursey was looking at him like that, and it was so difficult to resist. He couldn’t say no to him, and honestly? A little voice in his brain was telling him that if this was all Nursey could offer him, then he should be pleased. He’d happily put aside his own discomfort if it meant Nursey would be happy, and safe. He didn’t think the guy would try anything, but he didn’t want to risk him being pissed off because Nursey had lied to him.

    “Okay,” Chowder smiled. Nursey’s face lighting up happily made Chowder’s heart flutter.

    “Yes! Thanks, C. You’re the best,” Nursey grinned, flinging his arms around him.

    Chowder laughed and returned it with one arm, the other safely lifting his drink out of harm’s way. He had a sudden whiff of Nursey’s cologne, strong and spicy, and his head momentarily spun. Damn. He was so gone already. Nursey pulled away, still grinning stupidly, but there was already something different between them. His hands lingered on Chowder’s biceps as he stepped back, as if reluctant to let go. Like a switch had been flicked, they were dating.

    Fake dating, Chowder reminded himself. But if he was going to do this for Nursey then he had to do it properly. He casually slung an arm around Nursey’s broad shoulders as he resumed his conversation with Jack, as if it were a regular occurrence. Jack easily played along with an amused smile on his face. Nursey looked positively thrilled and if Chowder wasn’t smitten with him before he certainly was now.

    Nursey fit neatly into his side as if he belonged there. He was always warm, and Chowder could feel his body heat seeping through his shirt already. He wondered if it was going to smell like Nursey’s cologne now, and if it did would it be creepy of him to never wash it again? Shit, probably. He felt Nursey’s fingers on his hand, and looked to see him curiously tracing the flowers inked across his knuckles with tender, weathered fingertips. Chowder suddenly didn’t give a fuck if not washing his shirt was creepy.

    He sneakily glanced over at the bar to find douche guy still staring at them, a harsh frown on his lips. Chowder looked away again, the happy fluttering in his chest making way for annoyance. Who did that guy think he was? Once Nursey had made it clear he wasn’t interested he should have backed off. Chowder decided to step up his game. If he made it absolutely clear that they were a couple, then douche guy would hopefully get lost.

    It took a couple of minutes of mentally psyching himself up, then Chowder leaned over and softly pressed a chaste kiss to Nursey’s chiselled jawline. Nursey looked momentarily stunned, before grinning super wide at him again. It made Chowder’s heart jump into his throat, and then when Nursey returned the gesture with a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, his heart practically soared. He laughed quietly to himself and forced himself to act casual, though it was difficult when Nursey looked like all his birthdays had come at once.

    Chowder had to remind himself that this was fake. It made his heart sink again, but he kept the smile still in place. This was important to Nursey, and he could do this for him. After all, Nursey wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for him if their positions were reversed, of that he was sure. So he sucked it up and pretended that Nursey lazily playing with his fingers was nothing new and wasn’t making his stomach do flip flops.

    After a few more minutes, he spared another glance to the bar. Douche guy was still looking. It wasn’t enough. He gently nudged Nursey’s empty glass and then nodded towards the bar.

    “Why don’t we get another drink?” He suggested lightly.

    Nursey must have understood what he was getting at because he nodded sincerely like it was a great idea. They excused themselves from Jack’s company, and began making their way towards the bar. There were a few more people filling the floor now, making it harder to walk through the bodies. Nursey shrugged out of his hold but before Chowder could be disappointed, Nursey took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Chowder’s breath caught in his throat and he stumbled slightly as Nursey led him through the crowds. He was so screwed.

    There was only one clear spot by the bar, and Nursey snagged it quickly. Chowder inserted himself between him and a tall girl, taking advantage of the squeeze by pressing tightly to Nursey’s side. Nursey’s smile only grew slightly wider when Chowder placed a delicate hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t know why he did it. It just felt like the right thing to do.

    Nursey seized the cocktail menu, perusing it seriously despite having tried them all in the few months he’d been living in Providence. Chowder leaned and pretended to study the list with him, but he was actually trying to sneak a glance at douche guy. They accidentally locked eyes, and Chowder squashed down the rising protectiveness in his chest to give him a warm and friendly smile instead. The sour look on the guy’s face made it all worth it.

    Nursey ordered his favourite, a pina colada, and asked for a bottle of beer too without any prompting from Chowder. They knew each other’s preferences well by now, and Chowder wasn’t sure what that said about them. He didn’t think about it, and leaned forward to peck his cheek again in thanks. It felt natural, and the smile he received in return was dazzling. He glanced up to see if douche guy was still watching, and was satisfied to see he’d disappeared. He’d probably realised it was a loss cause.

    While waiting for their drinks though, someone big and burly took the tall girl’s place next to him at the bar. They both looked to see douche guy leaning on the counter beside them, an arrogant expression on his face. Chowder instinctively drew himself up to full height, and even puffed out his chest a little. He raised an eyebrow as if silently challenging him. Is there a problem, dickweed?

    “So, is this your boyfriend, Derek?” Douche guy asked in response to Chowder’s display. He attempted to be casual and friendly, but Chowder saw his knuckles turning white as he rested them on the bar.

    “Yep!” Nursey chirped happily, wrapping a proud arm around Chowder’s shoulders. “This is my Chris. Chris, this is Patrick.”

    “Nice to meet you,” Chowder replied, extending his hand and trying not to look too smug.

    Patrick narrowed his fishy eyes just slightly, but did take Chowder’s hand. In a wordless battle of testosterone, they clenched their hands as they shook, never breaking eye contact. Chowder felt his knuckles crack, but didn’t let go until Patrick the Douche grimaced slightly. He tried even harder not to look too smug and put a victorious arm around Nursey’s waist.

    “Same,” Patrick grunted, looking a little put out. “So how did you guys meet?”

    “At work.”

    “At college.”

    Chowder inwardly winced at the slip up and tightened his fingers on Nursey’s hip as a silent apology. Nursey didn’t let that phase him though, and let out a tinkling, amused laugh.

    “What Chris means is, he worked at my college library,” he explained, waving his hand dismissively. “So, it was college for me but work for him.”

    Patrick gave them both a suspicious look, clearly unconvinced. Chowder grabbed his beer and took a large gulp, letting the icy liquid cool his growing anxiety. This was a bad idea. Patrick was going to see straight through them. He decided to let Nursey do the talking instead, vowing to be the silent but supportive protector should Patrick choose to be an asshole.

    “Right,” Patrick said slowly, looking between them both. “So how did you get together?” He asked shiftily, hoping to catch them both out again.

    “I was taking a poetry module,” Nursey said without hesitation, almost as if he’d rehearsed the answer. “I went into the library to study and do my assignment, and all I could seem to write about was the gorgeous, tattooed library assistant with the floppy hair.”

    Chowder turned his head to watch him, trying to keep the awe from showing on his face. Nursey didn’t look back, but there was an almost dreamy expression on his face that made Chowder’s heart skip a beat.

    “I tried writing about different things, but they’d always float back to Chris. We’d spoken a few times but not anything substantial. So, I just took one of these poems, signed my name and left it on his desk. He found me in the poetry section an hour later and kissed me behind the shelves,” Nursey laughed quietly, a hint of a blush darkening his cheeks.

    That was too perfect, Chowder realised, too detailed for Nursey to have just improvised it. He’d put careful thought into that, and the realisation made his heart want to burst. Nursey had written poetry about him. Nursey had thought about kissing him. He swallowed and looked back at Patrick, his brain running at high speed to try and process this information and what he should do with it.

    “Nice,” Patrick grunted, though he sounded like he didn’t think it was very nice at all. “So, you’re a romantic or something?” He asked Chowder in a challenging tone, staring at him in a way that made Chowder bristle defensively.

    “I wrote him a poem back,” Chowder responded before he could even think about it. He drew himself up again, his sincerity and determination written all over his face. “I’m not very good at writing or speaking nice words like Derek is. But I told him that I think he is beautiful, and funny, and kind. And that I spent so much time just watching him because he’s fascinating. And that I treasured every moment I had with him, because he is the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

    He stuck his chin out defiantly, silently daring Patrick to argue with him or say something stupid. He didn’t notice Nursey openly staring at him with an awed and moony expression on his face. Patrick glared at the both of them, then muttered something ugly under his breath that sounded like ‘fucking whatever man’. He grabbed his beer arrogantly and stalked off, roughly brushing Chowder’s shoulder.

    Chowder whirled angrily, prepared to give Patrick the Douche a piece of his mind. A firm hand on his shoulder stopped him though, and he turned back to face Nursey. His mouth was poised to speak, but the look on Nursey’s face made him soften. He closed his mouth, wishing his heart would stop hammering against his ribcage. He lost his words, unable to think of anything to say other than ‘I like you’.

    So he said it.

    “I like you.”

    A slow smile spread across Nursey’s face, and at that precise moment, the busy bar seemed to go silent, as if someone had muted the scene. Chowder swallowed and held his eyes, feeling like he’d just placed his heart in his friend’s hands.

    “I like you too, you dork,” Nursey laughed softly, squeezing his shoulder.

    Chowder let out a laugh too, a wave of relief washing over every part of him. He relaxed, his hands naturally finding their way to Nursey’s waist once more.

    “So did you really write these poems?” He grinned bashfully, consciously leaning a little closer.

    “Yeah. Did you really write yours?” Nursey smirked playfully, lifting an eyebrow at him.

    “Nope, but I meant every word.”

    And then he kissed him.

Chowder frowned. This wasn’t like his boyfriend at all. Even when Nursey was in the back, he could usually hear him washing his hands or moving around. The house wasn’t that big.

The hallway was dark when he peered down it, but his eyes had adjusted enough to see that the bedroom door was slightly ajar. There was no light on inside. That was weird. He didn’t think Nursey would go to bed without telling him.

He pressed his palm against the cool wall. “Derek?”

He started walking down the hallway without even thinking about it, forgetting about the light switch until he was already halfway to the bedroom. Oh well, he thought. It wasn’t too dark.

He was starting to regret that thought when he finally reached the bedroom. It wasn’t terribly dark, but the silence of the house was starting to grate on him. Why wouldn’t Nursey say anything?

Something suddenly clogged itself in his throat. He was starting to feel uncomfortably cold in his own home. He took a shallow breath.

The bedroom door opened with a sickening creek, and Chowder winced. The sound had never seemed so foreboding before.

Nursey must have drawn the curtains over the window because the bedroom was even darker than the hallway had been. Chowder could just barely make out the outline of the bed against the far wall, the sheets still rumpled from that morning.

He took a nervous step forward, and something immediately grabbed him from behind.

Chowder screamed. He wriggled in the stranger’s arms viciously, swinging his head back to knock the intruder in the nose and missing by scant inches. He was a split second away from slamming his foot into whoever was behind him before the breathless laughter in his ear revealed the truth.

“You’re so mean!” Chowder groaned. “You scared me!”

Suddenly the arms wrapped around his torso weren’t so frightening. Now that he focused, Chowder recognized that grip.

“Sorry, C,” Nursey said, hooking his chin over Chowder’s shoulder. “It was too good to pass up.”

Chowder stuck out his tongue. Nursey kissed his cheek, smiling. Chowder tried to scowl but couldn’t keep it up. Nursey’s grin was infectious. They shuffled over until they fell onto the bed, Nursey’s arms still wrapped around his torso.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Chowder asked, eyes tracing the outline of Nursey’s jaw in the dark. They still hadn’t turned the light on, but the darkness felt a lot less malevolent now. “Dex gave me the new Spiderman.”

“I thought it wasn’t out on DVD yet.”

“It’s not.”

Nursey cupped his cheek and crossed the the few centimeters of space between them. His lips were warm on Chowder’s.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s hook it up.”

Chowder untangled himself and hopped off the bed. When he made it to the doorway, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“If you disappear again,” he said, doing his best to look stern. “This time I’m not looking for you.”