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“Oh my god, Poindexter,” Nursey wheezes from across the room, as if Will’s frustration and agony and fury is funny. “You’re so fucking salty, I can’t--can’t deal with this. It’s one fucking grade, not the end of days.”

“Salty? Salty?!” Objectively, Will knows that he’s being ridiculous, but there’s something nice about the way that Nursey’s falling apart with laughter. It’s cute, even, the way that he snorts as Will throws his arms around dramatically. Sure, he ends up clipping himself on the ceiling, but that’s what he gets for putting on a show from his bunk bed--honestly though, his entire risk/reward system is skewed by the way that Nursey’s gone silly over his theatrics.

This isn’t the first time he’s hurt himself trying to impress Nursey, and it probably won’t be the last.

“You’d be salty too if you were left to do a group project on your own--pulled your group along like the sad sacks they were after crafting a truly inspirational presentation--only to get the lowest score of the group due to a ‘lack of charisma’. Seriously, what the fuck does that even mean? I wrote the fucking presentation. This isn’t Drag Race, Nurse, this is real life and if that makes me salty, consider me the saltiest. Consider me filled with salt. I am Salt Man! Rub me on the rim of your fucking margarita glass, because drinks are officially served.”

If Nursey was a mess before, he’s in pieces by the time Will’s done monologuing, and it’s ridiculously charming. Like, it’s a lot. It makes Will want in ways he never used to allow himself--ways that only recently became part of the accepted norm. Because, apparently, all it really took was being forced into living together for Will to realize that his crush didn’t have to be the end of the world. And maybe sometimes he lets himself fixate on how he wants more, but for the most part he’s happy just to have Nursey in his life--to have him along for the ride.

Right now, though, with Nursey squeaking with mirth?

It’s probably the gross heart-eyes talking, but Will can’t remember him ever being cuter.

“Oh god,” Nursey gasps, tears in his eyes as he rolls straight off the beanbag chair. “Oh my god, Poindexter, you can’t just fucking say shit like that!”

“I’m not wrong, though! I will never get over the injustice of this moment, Nurse. Never.”

“No, no, no, not the grade, idiot--the rimming... The rimming! How did you--like, how are you even real?”


Will takes a moment to replay the conversation in his head from the beginning--the moment he slammed into the room in a huff, the moment that took him from righteous anger directly into parody with the intention of making Nursey laugh, and the moment he uttered the margarita line, which--

“Derek Nurse, are you trying to tell me that you took my heartfelt saltiness and turned it into innuendo?”

“I mean, if the salt fits, Poindexter,” Nursey snarks from beneath waggling eyebrows, smirking like he’s got a secret, and just like that the mood shifts from something ridiculous into something a little hotter, which is honestly is just as ridiculous if not more so… because Will knows Nursey. Hell, his goddamn embarrassing crush has driven him to madness--the kind of madness that has him watching all the time--and he knows now what it means when Nursey’s lips quirk like that that.

It means interest.

And attraction.

And maybe if this was a year ago, it would have scared the shit out of Will. The very idea of Nursey wanting him--flirting with him--would have thrown him off and left him spinning.

Now, though?

Now, Will can feel himself blushing, can just imagine what it likes like as the flush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck, lower and lower down his chest where Nursey’s line of sight can’t reach, and instead of feeling scared he just feels ready.

With a little more boldness than he would normally allow, Will makes a show of arching his back as he hums beneath the weight of Nursey’s gaze, maintaining eye contact throughout the motion.

“It’s too bad that you’re all the way down there,” he purrs, eyes locked on the way that Nursey licks his lips in consideration.

It’s a powerful feeling, owning Nursey’s attention like this, and it’s honestly almost too much to handle, but then the heat in Nursey’s eyes simmers into something a little more manageable as his smirk settles into something a little less hungry and a little more playful.

Why, sexy Dexy? Would you give me a taste?”

There’s just enough laughter in Nursey’s voice where this whole thing could go either way, and it hits Will like a punch to the chest that this exercise in sexual tension could be nothing more than an elaborate game of gay chicken. It makes his stomach twist in anxiety even as his face flushes hotter, pulse racing, and mouth painfully dry.

Because this whole thing could be a joke.

Alternatively, it could be something, and that’s more than Will has ever allowed himself to seriously consider.

It’s that potential for more that has Will nodding, because at the end of the day, just the possibility of Nursey wanting him is worth a thousand embarrassments.

Will nods and the laughter drains right out of the room.

“Yeah?” Nursey croaks, eyes locked on Will as he pushes himself up from the floor, the distance between them narrowing as he stands on his feet. “Gonna show me how salty you are?”

Will nods again and Nursey takes it as the invitation it is, scrambling up the ladder to Will’s bunk, and it’s all moving fast. The suddenness of it all has Will’s heart beating out of his chest, has him gasping out a desperate laugh, and he’s never felt so much like prey.

He’s never felt so desired.

It’s a searing heat beneath his skin, and the way that Nursey looks at him once he settles at the foot of Will’s bed… it’s a lot. It’s stifling, honestly, the kind of heat that’s got him sweating beneath his collar, and it should be gross. It should be awkward, or too much, or any of a million different things that should make Will want to stop.

It should be too damn much, but in the moment, it just makes Will want more. It makes him brave enough to unbutton his shirt, foolish enough to tug it from where it had been tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and stupid enough to hope.

Nursey makes him stupid, and if it were any other time, Will would probably be angry about it. Now though, in the cramped confines of his bunk, Will can’t find it in himself to be anything other than invested.

If the stuttered breath that Nursey lets out is any indication, he’s not the only one.

“Fuck,” Nursey says, more of a whisper than anything else, and even though they haven’t done anything yes, he looks wrecked. He looks how Will feels, and that in itself feels like a victory. The fact that Will has Nursey like this--perpetually chill, unruffled Nursey--has Will aching.

He’s not really expecting it when Nursey leans forward, shuffling close until he’s able to drag the tips of his fingers along the jut of Will’s jaw, a barely there feather of a touch that shouldn’t leave Will gasping for more.

And yet--

Nursey’s fingers trace lower along the line of Will’s neck, gentle and chaste in a way that Nursey’s gaze is not, and it shouldn’t leave Will feeling so exposed. It shouldn’t, because it’s just a touch, and Will is no stranger to sex. He’s never been a blushing virgin, even when he was a virgin--but knowing a thing and living it are two different things--and right now Nursey has Will gasping and keening like every virginal sterotype in the book.

The problem right now is that Nursey seems to have been created with the purpose of taking Will apart, and it’s overwhelming. Because right now, with Nursey’s attention undeniably focused on him, Will feels freshly made and raw. He feels so much, wants so much, and it’s got him dizzy.

It’s got him trembling.

“I thought you were going to taste, Nurse.” Will forces it out, wincing at how breathless he sounds. He’d probably be a little more disappointed in himself for swooning like this if it weren’t for the noise Nursey makes in response, something between a groan and a growl, and Will may not survive this.

“I’m taking my time, Poindexter,” Nursey rasps, careful to maintain eye contact even as his fingers dip low enough to gently circle Will’s nipples--first one, then the other.

It’s pretty damn clear at this point that Will is not going to survive this.

“Gotta map out all the places I want to taste first, gotta see if you’re as sweet as you look or if you’re really as salty as you think you are.”

“Oh my god, fuck you,” Will groans, collapsing both mentally and physically under the full force of Derek Nurse, Honest to God Casanova™. “All I wanted to do was complain about my project and now you’ve seduced me to death, what the fuck.”

“You started it,” Nursey pouts, pulling his arm back as if the meagre distance between them will undo the fact that he was caught wanting. That they both were.

“I didn’t say that you should stop.”

And, yeah. Just like that Nursey’s eyes are back on him, and even though Will can feel himself flushing all over again, he’s never been one to back down from a fight.

He’s not about to start now.

“Come here, Nurse,” he says, scooting carefully until he’s spread along the edge of the mattress, leaving the inside for Nursey.

If he wants it.

The niggling, scared part of Will’s subconscious that’s used to wanting Nursey from a distance--used to the simple kind of wanting that belongs to the unrequited--is certain that this is it, that this is the moment that will reveal the whole thing as a fluke. That Nursey will help himself down the ladder and straight out of this tension between them. That this was just a figment of Will’s overactive, hopeful imagination.

The mattress shifts as Nursey crawls up the bed, collapsing into the space that Will’s left him. He’s careless in the way that he wears his want on his face, and it’s enough to settle Will’s anxiety before it can spiral any further. Because whatever this may or may not turn into, there’s nothing on Nursey’s face that comes close to unrequited.

“I think you should kiss me,” Will says, delicate in the way he voices his desires even as his hands are quick to pull Nursey closer, fingers gripping and tangling in the smooth, slick softness of Nursey’s pretentious, bullshit silk shirt. He can almost feel the wrinkles setting beneath his grip, and it leaves him giddy--the spiteful kind of realization that Will can wreck Nursey just as much as Nursey can wreck him in return.

If Nursey notices the way that Will’s left him wrinkled and messy, he doesn’t mention it, seemingly content to just press closer into Will’s arms instead. His hands are exceedingly gentle as they brush along Will’s skin, careful fingers trace along the bow of Will’s lips before tickling along the cut of Will’s collar bone. It’s all innocent touches and heavy glances, and Will’s halfway to shaking apart by the time Nursey’s lips brush against his.

Nursey kisses him and it’s so, so good.

It’s soft and just a little bit wet, and the desperate part of Will’s heart never wants it to stop.

“God, I never want this to stop,” Will says, breathing the words against Nursey’s lips before he can second guess himself.

Nursey just pulls him closer, fingers running through his hair and down his spine and up his abs, and it’s an all-encompassing closeness that Will can’t get enough of. He’s gasping for more when Nursey’s tongue slides across Will’s lips, less a request than a proprietary motion, a claiming gesture that Will finds himself all too happy to melt into.

Nursey licks into Will’s mouth like he’s got something to prove, and in the blink of an eye time goes slick and slow and languid all at once, and Will can’t remember the last time he was taken apart so completely by a kiss.

It makes him shiver, because if this is how Nursey takes him apart with just a kiss…


Honestly, Will has made his peace with with the reality that this seduction is going to be the death of him. Because, seriously; what a way to go. Really, he’s prepared for the sacrifice, prepared to spend the rest of his short, gay life kissing and being kissed by Nursey, but then Nursey’s pulling away, and that just isn’t fair.

He nearly says as much, but then there are lips tracing along Will’s neck followed by a luxurious drag of tongue, and Will is on fire.

God, don’t stop, Nurse,” Will demands, as if he has any kind of control of the situation. He can feel the way that Nursey laughs against him, the way that his back vibrates against Will’s hands and the way his breath hitches so sweetly against Will’s throat, and he’s always been the loveliest when he’s laughing--this moment isn’t an exception.

Nursey laughs into Will’s skin, and Will wants to keep him forever.

“I’d stop if you wanted me to,” Nursey says, and Will wants to fight him--wants to pull away and tell him just how wrong he’s got it--but then Nursey’s pulling back far enough to make sure that Will’s paying attention. “You say the word and I stop. You hear me, Poindexter?”

The weight of his attention has Will squirming, and even as he’s moving he can’t tell if he’s trying to get closer or further away. Because the way that Nursey’s looking at him is too much.

It’s unfair.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that, c’mon.”

“Look at you like what, Dex?” It’s an innocent question, but Will can feel just how affected Nursey is where he’s pressed tight against Will’s thigh. “Like I don’t want to stop? Because I don’t, I want to lick every inch of you until I know exactly what you taste like. I want to touch you all over, but I’m not going any further until we’re on the same page. If you need a break, or if you want to stop at any point, I need you to tell me.”

“I’ll tell you,” Will agrees, and it’s annoying, the way he flushes so warmly when Nursey quirks an eyebrow in response. “Look, the only thing I want you to stop is this whole shirt situation you’ve got going on. The whole clothes thing in general is annoying.”

Actions speaking louder than any amount of snark ever could, Nursey makes quick work of his shirt, unbuttoning it just enough so he can pull it over his head, and yeah. That was a genius idea.

Carefully, Will allows himself to touch, dragging his fingers over and around each indent and smooth muscled plain of Nursey’s body. He’s gorgeous like this. Hell, he’s always been gorgeous, but there’s something about this moment--how he’s sharing himself with Will--that makes Will appreciate him so much more.

Because his skin is warm to the touch, smooth and unmarred aside from his tattoo even after years of working defense, and Will gets to touch.

The contrary part of Will wants to mark him up, just to prove that he can--to prove that this moment is real and vital and happening. The possessive part of Will’s heart wants to mark him up with hickeys and scratches until everyone knows that Nursey has been claimed.

The realist, however, is careful to keep his touches soft and reverent. Because, as much as he wants to mess Nursey up, he mostly just wants to make him feel good.

He wants this to happen again.

“Fuck,” Nursey huffs as Will drags his nails gently across his chest, circling his nipples one at a time until they’re tight with it.

“Yeah, that’s much better, Nurse. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” It’s probably a little more truthful than Will meant to be, but it’s true. He’s grateful when Nursey just rolls his eyes, pushing Will back into the pillows until he can crawl over him, caging him in with his arms and his legs and the almost unsettling way that he takes Will in, eyes focused and intrigued as if he was looking straight into Will’s mind.

“Shut up, Poindexter. This isn’t about me.”

“Bullshit, it’s not about you,” Will shoots back even as he spreads his legs, all the better to wrap himself around Nursey when he deigns to settle into the space that Will’s provided. “I don’t see anyone else here, Nursey. You’re the one in bed with me, aren’t you?”

Nursey laughs at that, a little huff of a thing, and for all the ways he’s got Will caged in right now--with his arms and his heat and his desire--he somehow manages to look exposed and awkward.

“It’s not like you want it to be me here, though. Not really. It’s just… chirping and convenience and letting off steam, so--”

And yeah, that can’t be allowed to fly.

“Don’t try and tell me you can’t feel how hard I am,” Will grinds out as he shifts his hips up, nerves sparking at the friction. “You did this, so don’t you try any tell me that I don’t want you, that I haven’t been wanting you.”

“Fuck,” Nursey says, breathes really, ragged around the edges and perfect when he punctuates it with a kiss. It’s just shy of desperate, and Will honestly can’t remember ever being kissed like this before. Like he’s being taken apart and put back together all at once, and it’s such a fucking joke that this started because of his fucking disaster of a group project.

Nursey comes up for air, and it leaves Will feeling bereft, because now that he knows what Nursey's lips feel like--what they taste like--he’s addicted.

“Are you trying to tell me that this is a thing, Poindexter?”

“Yeah,” Will agrees, the admission out of his mouth before he can second guess it or overthink it, and wow. Will’s honesty looks good on Nursey--the way that his eyes go soft and his lips go sweetly curved--and this is so much more than a chain reaction. Will needs this to be more than a simple case of cause and effect. “I kind of have a big, embarrassing thing for you, Nurse. Pretty sure you’re the last to know, actually.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

He looks… well, honestly, he probably looks the least attractive that Will’s ever seen him, with his mouth ajar and a decidedly stupid look on his face, but he’s still hot like burning. He’s still gorgeous, and it’s Will can do to press up close enough to press a kiss to Nursey’s cheek.

It’s probably stupid, but that little action and the punched out noise that Nursey makes in response has Will feeling far more vulnerable than he was after confessing… or, shit, after taking off his fucking shirt and basically seducing Nursey into his bed. One chaste little kiss to the cheek and Will’s blushing like never before, his heart beating in double-time as he settles back against his mattress to wait for a reaction.

He’s five seconds from outright panicking from Nursey’s lack of actual response, honestly, but then Nursey’s shifting his weight, and he’s cupping Will’s face with his hands, and he’s pressing kisses everywhere--soft little brushes of his lips against Will’s cheeks and his forehead and his lips and his chin--and Will is undone. Because there’s a certain measure of tenderness to the way that Nursey’s handling him that Will can barely stand--that he probably wouldn’t tolerate if it weren’t for the butterflies in his stomach and his chest and his heart.

“I’ve been obsessed with you for forever, Poindexter. Shit, I wanted you before I even liked you…” he trails off, and it leaves Will aching. Because it’s one thing to know that they had a rocky start--that they’ve come a long way--but it’s another thing for Nursey to bring it up when they’re in bed together.

It’s a completely fucked up, different thing when Nursey’s actively ruining him for all others.

From the way that Nursey’s looking at him, the center of his brows creased with concern, it’s pretty clear that Will’s feelings are written all over his face.

No, sweetheart, don’t look like that. It’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing, c’mon, just listen. I’ve wanted you since orientation. I wanted you so bad, and that didn’t go away when we didn’t get along. It just got bigger, more aggravating, and then you had to completely fuck me over by actually communicating and becoming someone I could want to be with.

“I like you so much… and I have for awhile.”

He sounds so sincere, so overwhelmingly earnest, and he’s still holding Will’s face in his hands, and Will says the first thing that comes to mind.


Nursey cracks up at that, shaking all over with laughter, and it’s kind of the easiest thing for Will to laugh along with him.

“Oh my god, you’re such a fucking dork.”

“Takes one to know one, Nurse.”

“Shut up, you giant twelve year old.”

“Make me,” Will says, pushing playfully at Nursey’s chest with a laugh, and it’s fun and light and easy until all of a sudden it isn’t. Because suddenly, almost out of nowhere, Nursey’s hands are wrapping around Will’s wrists, settling them firmly above Will’s head, and god fucking damnit, they’re going from zero to sixty all over again.

It’s enough to have Will’s head spinning, how quickly the mood shifts from playful and innocent into something hotter. Because Nursey’s got him stretched out, and Nursey’s eyes are tracing along with ridges and curves of Will’s body, and Nursey looks like he’s going to eat him alive.

“Tell me again how beautiful I am, Poindexter.” There’s no question in Nursey’s eyes, and there’s no request in his words. It’s a demand, and it’s one that Will is more than happy to comply with.

“You’re everything,” Will sighs as Nursey puts his mouth to work, nipping and sucking at Will’s neck as he maintains a steady hold on Will’s wrists, and he’s such an asshole, he’s going to leave Will with marks all over. It’s going to be so good. “I love your eyes, how they get so green, especially when it’s about to rain. And your hands are amazing--strong and talented and I’ve spent so much time thinking about them, god. Your lips are fucking dangerous, so soft and so pretty, and I want them everywhere.”

Nursey groans at that before committing to sucking a hickey into the side of Will’s neck.

From the feel of it, it’s going to be visible from fucking Mars, and the idea of it lights Will up inside like Christmas.

“I like the way you look when you’re reading, how focused you get. It’s like when you’re on the ice with me, but when you’re reading I get to actually… fuck, I get to really look at you.”

“What else do you like?” Nursey asks, pressing his words into the mark he’s left before shifting further down Will’s body, fingers tracing after his lips and his tongue.

Will keeps his arms where they are, and yeah, they’re going to have to explore this again, because the approving smile Nursey shoots at him before licking a stripe up Will’s abs has Will melting.

“C’mon, Dexy, tell me what you like.”

“I like that you’re smart. You’re like, so smart, and it’s ridiculously attractive. I like how silly you can be with the team when you’re not trying to be ‘chill’, and I like how much you care about people, and sometimes I just want to keep you all to myself because you’re so good, and- oh my god--”

There’s more that Will likes, but it all turns to mush when Nursey undoes his pants with a flick of his wrist, yanking at Will’s jeans until they’re bunched around his knees, and Will’s body is thrumming under Nursey’s attention.

“Can I blow you?” He asks, like he expects a coherent answer, like he didn’t just knock Will’s brain offline with the way his voice has gone all husky with his request and his actions and his everything. And seriously, he can fuck right off, because in what world would anyone say no to him?

“Duh,” Will replies, only to squawk when Nursey pinches high up on his thigh in retribution. “Fine, whatever. Yes Derek, that would be lovely. You are cordially invited to suck my dick.”

Nursey shoots a smug little grin at him, and it tickles Will like nothing else, the way that he’ll get to keep this--that they get to have sex without sacrificing the banter they’ve developed over the years. The idea that they can still be the same jerks they’ve always been leaves him giddy with relief. Because, as much as Will likes him--as much as Will wants him--there’s nothing quite as fun as chirping with Derek Nurse.

Of course, Will might have to reassess that statement, because then Nursey’s licking a stripe up Will’s dick, and yeah, that might be the most fun thing ever--if by fun, he really means life-alteringly hot, and holy shit, Will had long-since accepted it, but he is not going to survive this.

“I’m not going to survive this, Nurse, oh my god. You’re so fucking pretty, what the fuck.”

Nursey doesn’t chirp back, but he does maintain eye contact as he wrap his lips around the head of Will’s dick, and it shouldn’t be possible for someone to say so much with their eyes when they’re sucking dick… but Nursey’s always been something special.

He’s sucking Will’s dick, and his eyes are so, so green, and everything goes hot and wet and tight as he sucks just enough to have Will wanting control over his hands again. Because, as much as he wants to be good for Nursey, he mostly wants to touch him--to run his fingers over the tense line of his shoulders and over the softness of his cheeks and the strength of his nose. Just imagining it has Will’s hands clenching where they lay above his head, aching to touch, to claim, to give.

Nursey takes him deeper, and Will just wants everything. He wants to be everything that Nursey could want or need or desire.

“Chill, Poindexter,” Nursey says as he pulls off, and the way his voice has gone gravelly and deep puts a shiver right down Will’s spine. “If you keep talking like that I’m gonna come in my pants without you ever touching me.”

And yeah, Will hadn’t realized that he had been talking out loud, but now that he knows there’s no going back.

“Please, Nursey,” he begs, hands clenched together to keep them from migrating to where they really, really want to be. “Please let me touch you, please.”

If this was happening freshman year, or honestly, even at the beginning of this semester, Nursey would probably tease him for begging. He’d sneer and Will would go cold and dismissive, and yeah, there are a hundred million reasons why Will is glad that this is only happening now. Because now, instead of all the various ways that he and Nursey could have sparred before--hurtful and sharp and scared--Will just begs to be able to touch and Nursey crawls back up the bed with promises in his smile, and it’s too early to be thinking love, but Will’s never been that great at pacing.

Nursey settles beside him, and Will can feel his gaze as Nursey takes him in, the way that his eyes linger on Will’s wrists and the way that Will’s arms are bowed and the way that Will’s breathing--heavy and desperate and obviously wanting.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep your hands like that for so long,” Nursey says, humming as he traces the fingers of his left hand along the tendons of Will’s wrists. “You’re so good, Dex. So good for me.”

With intent evident in every movement, Nursey trails his fingers back up until they’re tangled with Will’s, until he can bring their linked hands down, cradled between them as Nursey curls inward to press kisses to the insides of Will’s wrists and the curves of his knuckles, and it’s the sweetest fucking torture that he’s ever known.

“C’mon, Nurse, let me touch you, c’mon.” Will’s begging again, and he can’t even pretend to be ashamed, not with the heated way that Nursey’s staring him down. “Please, I can make you feel so good if you let me.”

“You already do, sweetheart. Just being here with me right now is making me feel good.” With a smirk, he brings their joined hands up to his chest before leading them lower--low enough to feel where Nursey’s hard and straining in his pants--before letting Will go. “You have my explicit permission to touch.”

Any trace of smirk is wiped out when Will takes his permission and runs with it, stroking the length of Nursey’s dick through his jeans with one hand as he uses the other to pull him closer, close enough to bury his face in the crook of Nursey’s neck.

Pressed this close, Will can feel it every time he makes Nursey feel good--the way that his breath hitches when Will slides his hand inside his pants, bypassing his boxers to wrap his fingers around Nursey’s cock. There’s not a lot of room to maneuver with Nursey’s clothes still on, but Will can work with it. Hell, he’s determined to work with it, to learn the heft and the length and the hot, hot feel of him. Nursey shudders, and it feels so good to know that Will’s the one doing this to him. To know that Will’s the one that’s got him wet at the tip, the inside of his boxers slick and damp with precum and fuck, Will needs to see him.

“I need your pants off like yesterday, please,” Will pants as he pulls hand out from where he’d been exploring, using the newfound freedom to focus on kicking his own pants off from where they’d pooled around his knees. Because if this is going to happen, Will is going to be naked.

A quick glance to his left shows that Will really only had to ask once to get Nursey moving, and maybe at another time it will be funny, the way that Nursey’s flailing to strip down, limbs splayed akimbo as he struggles. If the bed were a little wider, or if Will was a little less worried about falling off the side, he’d probably help. Probably. That being said, it’s a small bed and it’s a long fall and Will’s probably been in love with Nursey for longer than he’ll ever admit out loud. And maybe, just maybe, he deserves this--the way that Nursey’s body flexes with effort, muscles straining and gorgeous, until finally he’s down to nothing but his socks.

The socks can stay.

Will would say so, but then Nursey’s on him, blanketing him with his body, and their dicks are pressed together, and it’s so much better than it should be. Because it’s just a dry slide of skin upon skin. Or, it would be, if it weren’t for the way that Nursey’s been leaking all over, and that thought alone has Will closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, because that’s Nursey--gorgeous, passionate Nursey-- pressed hard and leaking over him. Somehow, plain, awkward, grumpy-ass William Poindexter has Nursey rubbing against him, wearing nothing but socks and smiles, and yeah. Will leans in, licking at the corner of Nursey’s lips, and just like that they’re down to just socks, because their mouths are far too busy to smile.


“I want to hold you down again,” Nursey pants against Will’s lips, and really, that’s all he has to say.

Because Will is easy for him--easy for this--so it only takes that one simple request for Will to bring his arms back over his head. The thing is that Will’s never been this easy for anyone else, and if he didn’t trust Nursey so implicitly already, he’d probably be a little freaked out. Instead, all he feels is cherished as Nursey presses his right hand down where Will’s wrists are crossed, his long, long fingers brushing along the sides, and Will goes boneless.

Nursey swings a leg over him, his thick thighs straddling Will as he slides down into a filthy grind, lips and teeth and tongue working at the skin at Will’s neck and collarbones and chest as he uses his free hand to get between them, wrapping his fingers around their cocks, insistant and just shy of too tight.

“There’s so much I want to do with you,” Nursey groans as the hand between them speeds up, dry and yet still so good, and yes. Will wants that too. He wants everything. “This--you and me--it’s going to be a thing, you hear me, Poindexter?”

“Yeah, yes, fuck--keep going.”

He does keep going, a steady, grueling pace that has Will’s toes curling as the familiar warmth in his stomach starts building. It’s got Will lighting up, because if it’s this good with just Nursey’s hand… well, shit.

“God, we’re going to be so good at sex, Nurse,” Will says, and from the smile Nursey bites into his chest, it can be assumed that he agrees. “We’re going to be amazing.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. We’re gonna be so good, fuck--”

With his arms above his head and Nursey’s everything weighing him down, Will can’t see it when Nursey comes all over him, but he can feel it--how hot it is against Will’s stomach, the clench of Nursey’s thighs where they’re straddled across Will’s legs,and the way that he bit down hard and sharp.

Nursey spills all over and Will wants that too.

He’s seconds from asking for his hands back, but then Nursey seems to recover enough to run his hand over the mess he’s made before he wraps it around Will’s dick, and yeah. Holy shit, it was already amazing, but now it’s perfect. It’s hot, and it’s tight, and it’s so slick, and knowing that it’s Nursey’s come that’s making him feel so good?

Between one shuddering breath and another Will comes, adding to the mess that Nursey’s made. It’s filthy, and it’s going to be a bitch to clean up in a minute, but Will can’t focus on the negatives yet when he’s still feeling so good.

Above him, Nursey hums as he runs his fingers through their combined mess before bringing his hand to his mouth. The way that he sucks his fingers in--one at a time--is possibly the sexiest thing that Will’s ever seen, and if he could come again, this would do it. For now, Will settles for watching as Nursey cleans his fingers off with deliberate strokes of his tongue.

A whimper breaks from Will’s throat when Nursey runs his fingers over his stomach again before offering them to Will.

The implication is clear.

Will takes the offer for what it is and opens his mouth, tongue soft against Nursey’s fingers when they find their way inside, and the taste of them is something he won’t forget any time soon. It’s sharp and musky, salty and unquestionably them.

He swirls his tongue along Nursey’s fingers until they’re clean, only letting them free when Nursey pulls them from his lips. There’s and audible pop when they finally slip out, and it’s not really funny, but that single pop has Will giggling, which just devolves into full out laughter when Nursey joins him.

They’re shaking together, getting stickier by the second, and it’s so good. It’s so much, and it’s hilarious, and Will isn’t letting this go without a fight.

“Lemme clean you up, sweetheart,” Nursey says as he basically slides off of Will, clumsy in an entirely new, satisfied way that has Will flushing with accomplishment. It’s distracting enough that Will only realizes that Nursey’s wiping him down with Will’s flannel once he’s halfway done, at which point Will can’t even be bothered. He’ll just throw it in with Nursey’s laundry pile later when he’s not looking.

He’s still lingering in the boneless state that Nursey left him in when he realizes that his arms are still where Nursey had instructed he put them. It makes Will go hot all over, the physical reminder of just how easy he is for his--his Nursey.

“Are we dating?” Will asks, and if he squints he can almost pretend that it’s a good question and not at all an awkward one when you’re coming out of the sexy, sexy aftermath of hooking up with your best friend, roommate, and defensive partner. Nursey doesn’t answer immediately, and every second he goes without speaking--settling back down beside Will after urging him to relax his arms, pulling the comforter over them, and snuggling close--has Will itching to take it all back. “That’s probably a stupid question, right?”

“Not really,” Nursey says, wrapping an arm around Will as he plasters their bodies together. “I mean, I wasn’t lying when I told you that I wanted this to be a thing. If that means boyfriends to you, I’m on board. I’m happy as long as I’m with you, y’know?”

“I guess,” Will starts, snuggling closer into Nursey’s chest before forcing the rest of his thought out. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that. “I don’t want to share you if we’re going to do this.”

He can feel the way that Nursey laughs at that, as if it’s a foolish thing to say. “I’ve been all yours for awhile now, Poindexter. Making it official isn’t going to change that. Not for me, at least.”

“Okay,” Will agrees, letting the feeling of contentment that’s been lurking in the background finally take him over.

An hour ago, Will would have scoffed at the idea of having this. The Will of an hour ago would have been too scared of losing Nursey--of ruining their friendship, or bringing the team down, or making Chowder choose between them. Logically he knows that any of that could still happen, but the warmth of reciprocation and good sex has Will pushing that back for another day’s anxiety to fixate on.

For now, he lets the warmth between them lull him into an easy, well-earned sleep.

They’ll have time for everything else later.

He’s sure of it.

“You know,” Derek whispers into the space between them, “you don’t taste half as salty as you implied, my little salt lick.”

There’s a beat, a single blessed moment where he thinks that he’ll get away with it. But then Dex--his sleep-mussed, gorgeous, newly minted boyfriend Dex--is reaching over his head. They’ve only had sex the once, but Derek’s dick is already twitching like it’s developed some kind of goddamn pavlovian reaction to Dex being laid out like that.

The whole thing makes Derek want.

Which is probably why he doesn’t see the pillow until it’s been firmly slammed into his face.

“Shut. The fuck. Up, Nurse,” Dex says, half asleep and adorably grumpy, his eyes still closed as he lets the pillow fall between Derek’s back and the wall. It’s not the hardest hit he’s ever suffered, pillow or otherwise, but it’s probably the first time that Derek’s been aggressively cuddled by his assailant afterwards.

All in all, it’s pretty fucking great.