#derrony

Making it to the door was a challenging thing, and Derrick takes his sweet time doing so. After all, It didn’t sound like the person behind the door was in any rush.

Derrick yawns as he opens the door, and his eyes become wide open once he sees who’s behind it.

It was Tony well dressed in a mint green button up and his hair slicked back with a little more attention and care. Tony who’s waited expectantly for Derrick to answer the door with the same amount of excitement as him. Tony excited for a date that he’s been talking about for the past week.

“Are you ready, Dare? It took you awhile to answer the door.”

Suddenly, Derrick’s entire body becomes about a thousand pounds heavier.

“Oh my God.” He rubs at his eyes again, this time a little harder so the pain is a punishment. “I am actually the worst boyfriend in existence and still need to shower. How much longer until the reservation?”

But the flash of disappointment in Tony’s eyes is a shadow compared to the excitement in his face, and Derrick was tired, but he wasn’t tired enough to let it slip past him. They both knew the truth: That Derrick forgot their date tonight.

“I guess…” Tony pulls a small phone from somewhere and glances at the screen. “...We have a few minutes but don’t worry about it, Dare. We can go next-”

Tony was already led in the house.

“I’ll be super quick. In and out. Don't worry, Tones. We’ll make your reservation.”

Then, a kiss was slapped upon Tony’s cheek as he watches Derrick tread the stairs. Some rustling came from above him; drawers being opened and doors being closed. Soon he heard the shower water hitting the tile floor and Derrick stepping in.

Tony spent the next few minutes touring his home, glancing at the pictures on the walls, trying to find the story behind them. He quickly realized how boring his house was. It had simply two pictures and a wooden clock covering the little wall space, and the two pictures were old by several years. Nothing recent to show the growth of the family that resides inside of it.

Tony eventually finds his way upstairs and strolls down the hallway that leads to Derrick’s room. His pace is slow and careful and shadow is faint amongst the dim light that shines through the bottom of the bathroom floor; the shower water still echoing as it rains.

He lets himself in Derrick’s room, finding it a little unorganized than what’s acceptable for his standards. The drawers of his dresser were left open and throwing up clothes. Some books lay on the ground with their spines to the ceiling and pages crumbling under weight. Tony takes a second to pick them up and return them to the holes on the shelves. Then, he takes another second to return the drawers to their natural state as well, until a thought stills him.

Derrick’s room wasn’t usually this bad. Sure, he wasn’t perfect and his room wasn’t spotless, and sure, his room isn’t at it’s worst right now, but he still never exactly lets it get this bad. Unless he was busy like he is now.

Working three jobs at a time would take its toll on anyone, and lately, it's been taking its cruel time turning Derrick into a giant ball of stress that isn’t fun to cuddle with anymore. Tony has been taking note of whatever he can since no matter what he says to Derrick, it won’t change his mind about his decision to work three jobs this summer. This was a big sign to Tony. A sign that may not convince Derrick to change his plans for the summer, but it just convinced Tony to change his plans for the evening.

-~-~-~-~@-~-~-~-~

That shower wasn’t exactly Derrick’s record time. There were too many instances where the steam trapped by the walls would soak into his tense muscles and work to ease his mind. His eyes would close, forehead would lean against the wall, and body would merely concentrate on the feeling of water running down the curves in his back. His heavy eyelids would find relief anytime they would close. Enough relief to send Derrick straight into a nap that wouldn’t leave him more exhausted once he woke up.

Steam spills out of the bathroom when he opens the door, and a slap of cold air hits his dripping curls. He dries it off in his towel as he blindly enters his room, shirt unbuttoned and tie hanging loosely around his neck.

Suddenly, Derrick’s scared to remove the towel from his eyes.

Tony’s mint green shirt laying on the floor caught his eye first. Then, he notices his black pants and a belt not far away from it.

He swallows thickly.

But it wasn’t what Derrick was expecting. In fact, it was what he was hoping for deep down in his aching body. Tony holds a pair of sweatpants out to him, dressed in one of Derrick’s large t-shirts and baggy sweatpants.

“Here Darey, put this on instead.”

Derrick looked to Tony, then to the pants in his hand, then to Tony again. He notices how small Tony looked in his clothes, but how cozy as well. Reluctantly, he slowly raises his hand to grab the sweatpants from him.

“I thought this was a nice restaurant…”

Tony nods his head to a tilt. “Oh it is, but I thought that we should go next week. I have better plans for tonight.”

He knew exactly what Tony was doing, and Derrick couldn’t hide the guilt on his face. This was supposed to be the night he’s been waiting for. The night he’s been wanting for weeks. Derrick looks down to the sweatpants that are now in his hands.

“Thank you, Tony, but I can’t. I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate it, but this is your night, baby. I can’t take that away from you.”

His smile was genuine, small but very genuine. “You’re not taking it away from me, Darey. I’m giving it to you. You’re tired. I see it in your eyes.” Tony doesn’t wait for Derrick to respond before he’s already walking out the door. “I’m picking the movie though. Hurry and change so you can order pizza.”

And after a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide with or without sausage, Derrick collapses on the couch once again. His weight sinks into the worn cushions that mold perfectly to his shoulders, and Tony nestles into the spot on his chest that he’s been so carefully shaped to fit into. It’s warm, under the covers of the throw blanket and on top of cushions of the stained couch. Warmer than the air outside of this nest of soft comfort.