iterations

nursey-nursey-please:

Derek’s favorite version of Dex is the Dex that flickers like the soft light of a candle. The Dex that doesn’t pretend that he hates being held, the Dex that whispers in Derek’s ear about his day like it’s a secret, like Derek is the only person allowed to hear the mundane facts of Dex’s life, what he ate for lunch, what Angelina from stats told him about Professor Greene. The Dex that likes to kiss Derek’s nose and eyes twice each because he doesn’t like odd numbers. The Dex who will hold Derek’s face in his hands and press their foreheads together. Who has cinnamon eyes and when he tells Derek he loves him, he believes it.

Derek’s favorite version of Dex is the Dex that skitters around like a bunny in spring. The Dex that forces him to sit down and watch the 1960s Star Trek only to talk over it the entire time. The Dex that will hook his chin over Derek’s shoulder and say “mmm yes” in a horrible impression of Yoda. The Dex that blows raspberries into his stomach when he’s drunk and sometimes when he’s sober. The Dex who has a Boba Fett action figure on his nightstand just in case. The Dex that will hold his hand when they walk into the video game store every single time.

Derek’s favorite version of Dex is the Dex who burns down cities with the slightest spark. The Dex who presses Derek down into the mattress and moans in his ear, makes his whole body throb with want. The Dex that will storm out after an intense fight and leaves him breathless. Who kisses like he wants to sear the taste of anyone else from Derek’s mouth, leaves bruises like scattered rose petals on his skin. The Dex that cries angry tears, who gets angrier the more they fall, like water thrown on a gas fire.

Derek’s favorite version of Dex is the Dex with a bleeding heart. The Dex who will donate a dollar at every drive thru. The Dex with a chip on his shoulder. The Dex who quite literally gives people the shirt off his back. Who can’t pass by a homeless person without giving them something. The Dex that can barely afford to eat every month who gives and gives and gives until he can’t anymore. The Dex who picks up strays every weekend just by “coincidence.” The Dex who sometimes can’t sleep at night because he knows someone out there is hurting. The Dex that makes Derek desperate to be better.

Derek’s favorite version of Dex is the Dex that is steadfast, dependable. Competent, in every sense of the word. The Dex that fixes the dryer and the oven and the shower every other week. The Dex that actually has a toolbox with his initials on it. The Dex that has a budget and can stick to it. The Dex who already knows about taxes and social security. The Dex who works on his truck for fun. The Dex Derek knows he could probably marry, have the 2.5 kids and the white picket fence with. The Dex who makes forever feel possible.

Derek’s favorite version of Dex, is Dex. The Dex who cries at the end of Forrest Gump, who listens to Black Dog by Led Zeppelin on repeat. The Dex who has no table manners, who shovels food in his mouth like he’s angry at it. The Dex who is unendingly wheezy in the spring, and burns after ten minutes in the sun. The Dex who hates reading and doesn’t get art and really has no clue where “to thine own self be true” came from. Dex, who never really let Derek have a honeymoon phase. Dex, who Derek is wildly, hopelessly, boundlessly in love with.