saw this and honestly? the dex & nursey vibes are impeccable. whether you like them as a couple or just friends, you can’t tell me this exact thing hasn’t happened to them at least twice like

Valentine’s Day Dance

Okay, so I’m a couple hours late on this, but I made it through all the distractions to finally bring you my first completed fic in over a year! This is my gift to @mlm-benvolio​ for the RvB Valentine’s Day gift exchange and first time posting one of my works to Tumblr. Enjoy. (will fix formatting if needed) @rvbgiftexchange Ship(s): Grimmons w/background Docnut and Locoboose and mentioned Tuckington 1,800+ words    "Dude, if you don't ask him out, I'm not talking to you ever again."        The lanky red-head gave out a sharp, fake gasp at those words, closing his locker and holding the non-robotic hand to his chest and faking a hurt expression. "You wouldn't. Who else would I talk to?"        "Wouldn't I?" This led to a full two minute stare-down between them both before a taller boy came by and picked up his older brother, squeezing him tight.     "Tucker! I just asked Loco to the Valentine's dance!"        "Okay, if Caboose can ask Loco, you can totally ask Dex," Lavernius gasped out, struggling to get out of his adopted brother's tight grasp. "Seriously, though, what's taking you so long? We all know you like him. Well, except maybe Dex himself."    

   Slinging his bag onto his shoulder, Richard just thought this over a bit as the three headed for the student parking lot. Passing through the commons, they noticed Franklin hugging Frank tight, but not nearly as tight as Michael had done to his brother. The blond noticed them and quickly broke the hug, dragging his boyfriend over to them. Before he could even say a word, Richard stopped him.    "He just asked you out to the dance?"        "Yes!! Has Dex asked you yet? Cause then we could go suit shopping together!" As usual, his younger brother was way too excited about these things than anyone had a right to be, but Franklin had always loved dressing up and going to parties.         "Dude, you don't need to go out and buy a whole suit for this. Not like it's prom," Lavernius told the junior. "Just pick something nice you already have. And can someone please tell Rich here that there's no way Dex would turn him down?"        Franklin's head perked up at that, looking his older brother dead in the eyes. "Rich, if he doesn't say yes, he's an idiot and in denial. He's been over for dinner more this year than the last three combined."        "I rest my case. Now c'mon, I've got a baby who's probably driving my dad up the walls."        Once out in the parking lot, Richard looked around for Dexter's old beater that was in this horrible, bright orange with the doors painted an even brighter yellow. Apparently having sensed his rising anxiety, F.I.L.S.S. started playing music from his relaxation playlist through the headphones around his neck that were connected to his prosthetic arm. "Thanks," he muttered to the AI before speaking up to get his younger brother's attention, giving the keys an underhand toss. "I'm gonna go find Dex. I'll be home in time to make dinner, promise." All of the other teens smiled at him as he jogged off, going up and down the rows to hopefully beat Dexter to his own car.        Thankfully he'd made it just a couple minutes before the shorter senior came over, drinking a soda that he'd gotten from one of the vending machines. "Oh, hey, man. Not goin' home yet?"        "Told Franklin I'd be back to start dinner. Wanted to hang out with you a bit." Dex raised an eyebrow at this but just shrugged, unlocking the car and getting in. It didn't take long for Richard to realize they weren't going to the middle school to pick up Kai. "Uhh. . . ."        "Relax, she's spending the weekend with some friends at a sleepover since our parents are out of town."        "So you're staying home alone? All weekend?"        "Yep."    Somehow this felt like the perfect opportunity to finally suck it up and ask him. No Kai around to spy on them, and nothing embarrassing to try explaining to their adopted parents. So far, so good. When they got to the Grifs' house, both teens kicked off their shoes and put their backpacks by the door, Richard setting up Halo 12 while Dexter went to the kitchen to grab some drinks and some chips. He made sure the red head was getting a thing of carrot juice, while he grabbed another soda for himself. "So, what's up? Normally you give me a heads up before showing up at my car."     "Eh, just didn't wanna hear Franklin talk my ear off about matching suits with Frank or whatever. Also hoping to avoid having Tucker call me to complain how stupid it is that he can't invite Wash to the dance. Pretty likely he'd also complain about Caboose not shutting up about asking Loco out."     "Are those two actually dating or . . . . ?"     "Dunno. But they're definitely going to the dance together." They sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to play a couple practice games of capture the flag before deciding whether or not they wanted to do an online match. "So, uh, are you going with anyone? If at all?"     "Maybe? No one's asked yet, and I'm not sure anyone would really wanna go with me. You going?"     Richard just shrugged before recoiling a bit at a sudden, sharp pain in his arm. "Ow! F.I.L.S.S.!"     "My apologies. I must have hit a wrong nerve trying to move the fingers."     The taller teen glared down at his metallic arm for a second, going back to their game and attempting to continue the conversation. "Been thinking about it. Had sort of an idea who to ask. Besides, Sarge'd want me to go to keep an eye on Franklin anyway."     "Good ol' Sarge."     Feeling the AI in control of his arm in the back of his head and ready to send more shocks up his arm, Richard took a deep breath. "Do you wanna go to the dance? With . . . . me? Maybe? You don't have to, y'know, but if you want, it'd be nice. But you don't have to!"     "Dick?"     "Yeah?"     "Course, dumbass. Who else would I go with?"     About an hour later, the lanky teen found himself back home and in-between on steps in cooking dinner, Franklin bouncing in place as he sat on the counter, watching impatiently. "So?"     "So what?"     "Did you ask him?"     "Did Rich ask who what?" Sarge asked, coming into the kitchen to see what his boys were talking about.     "Richard asked Dexter to the dance this Valentine's Day," F.I.L.S.S. spoke up for the boy, knowing he was too nervous from earlier still to hold any sort of conversation.     "Bout dang time, son. You been fawnin' over him for the last four years now. How late's the dance s'posed ta go?"     "11:30 the latest," the blond teen answered back, their dad just nodding, knowing he could trust them both to not stay out too late.     Later that night, Franklin had texted Lavernius the good news, and the two proceeded to gush over this new development together, the older of the two saying he was afraid they wouldn't ask each other out until well after they graduated in a few months. The next few days were then spent with both of them trying to pick out a classy outfit to the dance, Lavernius saying he'd probably have to take Dexter shopping if the man had any hope of looking decent. So by the time the dance was there, their entire group showed up dressed in black slacks(minus Franklin who was in white with Frank), and they all had their own solid-color button-ups.     Loco and Michael tried splitting their time between the dance floor and eating snacks, while Franklin couldn't sit down from sheer excitement. Richard was too awkward to even attempt dancing, so he was glad to hang back and have some snacks with Dexter, making sure the shorter male didn't get the shirt or pants Lavernius had bought too messy. Speaking of which, he hadn't seen the darker skinned teen since getting into the main hall. This wasn't going to end well. . . .     "So, probably brought this up sooner, but why did you ask me here? I mean, we're not dating or whatever Loco and Caboose are."     "And you call me the dumbass. . . . I kinda thought it'd be obvious? I asked you out to the Valentine's Day dance. Should be pretty self-explanatory."     Dexter nodded a bit, eating a few more bites of his snacks. "True. But I wanna hear you say it."     Now Richard's face was starting to turn a similar shade of red as his hair, if just a shade darker. It wasn't a nearly full-body blush like Wash was known to get from time-to-time, but it did make his freckles blend together a bit. Just as she had last week, F.I.L.S.S. threatened to shock him again if he didn't speak up soon. Her personality had been really weird since Thanksgiving, he'd have to talk to Dr. Church about that.     "I- I like you, okay? I missed you a lot after you had to leave, and then you came back and I thought things'd be like when we were kids again, but it wasn't, and it still isn't, which I think is okay, y'know? We still bicker a lot sometimes, but it's not like when we were little. And you're always there for me when I need it, and you didn't hate me when you found out about me being a boy. Still can't believe you outed me in bio, though. I know, it was an accident. But you're my best friend, and I don't think I would've wanted to ask anyone else to come with me." Taking a deep breath, he started calming down a bit. "Honestly, it was probably a good thing you had to leave cause I think even when we were kids I had a crush on you. And I don't think I could've sorted that out on my own if you were still living with us."     "Huh. Good to know. I like you a lot, too. Thought about you the whole time I was gone. I mean, hard not to, considering you're why I was able to get my skin grafts. So even though you weren't around, you kinda were?" Side-eyeing the other, Dexter noticed the blush had gotten darker "So . . . are we dating now?"    "I think so? If you want to, anyway."     "Cool, guess I can finally do this," the heavier teen said, more of to himself, before leaning over and kissing his now-boyfriend, able to feel the heat radiate off his face from how flushed he was. It was at that moment that a bright flash got their attention, making them look up and see the overhead balcony where one Lavernius Tucker Church stood with his phone out, cheering in triumph.     "Finally! I've waited four years for this!" he cheered before running off to find his younger brother for safety.     "Wha- Tucker, no, I wanna dance with Loco more!" the younger boy tried telling him, as he tried climbing up his back and onto his shoulders. Lavernius just reassured him it'd just be for a little bit, to protect him from Dexter.     "Okay, Tucker's officially the group dumbass now."

what if?

(11 and 3 from the Super Sappy Prompts list: “I thought you didn’t want me” and “It’s always been you.”)

It's not water, it's ice. It's a thousand needles of ice pricking at Dex's skin. Soon they'll pierce him, puncture his bursting lungs and turn him breathless, lifeless. Still, he swims on.

The current is fighting him. His own lungs are fighting him. His eyes fight, too, stinging, but he keeps them open, gleaning what light he can in the dark water. Later, he will think back and see only seconds of being alone in that darkness. Now, it's minutes. An endless slow trudge of time as he turns and searches.

He remembers pulling off his flannel, stripping out of his jeans in the freezing night. He remembers kicking off his shoes. And then the plunge, the fevered dive into the water, the rush of his blood keeping him warm. And then, crashing down and through into this frozen limbo, one thought in mind. Where's Nurse?

(It's fine, Nursey says, it's chill. I'm not that drunk, and the railing's really fucking wide.

Get down, Dex tells him.

Nursey scoffs. What are you, my mother?)

Dex is a strong swimmer, but it's one thing to practice in the shallows at the beach and in placid lakes. A real, vital, rushing river is a living thing, and it consumes Dex, licking him hungrily with cold tongues. He fights past it. There's a dark shape in the dark water, and Dex swims for it, pushing and kicking and praying.

He's done this. He's done this before. He once fished his cousin out of the sea when the riptide pulled him under. But his cousin was seven, and Nursey's big, big and heavy and stubborn even when he can move on his own. Idiot. What was he thinking? What did he think he could do if he toppled over the edge, a concrete block of muscle and skin, inebriated and waterlogged and weighed down by sopping clothing?

What happens if Dex can't move him?

(What are you, the designated driver? Nursey presses a cold beer to Dex's forehead. Around them, music and laughter circulate in the air.

Shut up, Dex says. Sometimes I don't feel like drinking.

Seriously? Tonight of all nights?

Dex smirks. Especially tonight. I wanna remember tonight.

Okay, then. Nursey drops onto the couch next to him and tucks his head into Dex's shoulder. Dex bristles, but Nursey ignores it. You can walk me home later.)

He makes contact. Nursey's skin is cool to his touch. Dex kicks harder than he's ever kicked before, forces himself between arm and shoulder, and makes for the surface. Nursey's body is leaden. The surface is miles away. Dex's lungs are bursting. They'll never make it.

And then -- air -- breath -- life.

Dex heaves great round breaths that fill his diaphragm and buoy him. He hoists Nursey above the water line, face and neck and shoulders. The river's bank is not so far away. Already, there's someone watching. Screaming. Dex frowns at her, though she's too far away to see his disapproval. Don't scream, call 911, he thinks. People are stupid.

The stupidest person is right beside him, a cinder block of a man, unconscious and ponderous. Dex swims for shore. Each stroke is labor. His lungs ache more now than they did when he was underwater. But with each kick and tug and struggle, he's a little closer. Nursey stirs next to him. Stirs, but doesn't breathe. Dex kicks harder. Just now, he almost felt dirt beneath his feet. Another kick, another tug, Nursey's body suddenly seized by gravity, and -- yes -- thank God --

Dex staggers onto the riverbank, dragging Nursey behind him. He stumbles and falls forward, going to one knee, and releases the weight of Nursey from his shoulders. Nursey falls, unmoving and unbreathing, onto the grass.

Breathing. God, he's not breathing. He must have inhaled water and passed out. The girl is still screaming. Dex coughs hard, water spilling from his mouth. He finds a breath. "Call a fucking ambulance," he barks. Struggling to his knees, he looks down at Nursey. Shit. Shit, what if he's dead? What if he's gone? What if there is no more Nursey in Dex's world?

(The puck zings across the ice. Dex can feel the weight of the next few seconds. He sees the lane. It's a split second. He lifts his stick.

Slap shot. The goalie scrambles. The net whiffs with impact. The buzzer sounds.

And then Nursey's arms are around him, and Nursey's voice is a jubilant song in his ears. In another moment Dex will register the roar of the crowd, and a few seconds after that Bitty and Whiskey and the others will skate over and there'll be a group hug. But right now, in this single, explosive moment of joy, with Nursey beside him, Dex is happier than he's ever, ever been.)

It all happens in less than a second -- Nursey's face contorts, and his head turns, and then he's coughing up water. Cough after cough after cough, but then he inhales. Dex feels something inside him break, flood -- a rush of warmth. He's breathing. He's alive. Thank God.

"Don't move," he says. "Don't move. Help is coming. Stay right there."

Nursey coughs up water for another minute, then lifts an arm to wipe his mouth. "What happened?" His voice is weak, and water dribbles from the corner of his lips.

"You fell in the river," Dex tells him. "You're heavy."

Nursey wipes his face and blinks up at Dex. He's just lying there, as though he's waking up from a nap, as though he didn't scare Dex half to death. "You saved me?"

"Nobody else around," Dex says.

Nursey gives him that easy, lazy smile. "Thanks, Will."

"Don't fucking thank me, just don't ever do that again." And then, because he can't hold it back any longer: "Oh, God. Jesus, Nurse. I thought you were dead. Oh, God."

He shivers hard. Jesus, he's freezing. It's cold out and he's never been so terrified, and now the shudders won't stop. He sits there, on his knees next to a prone Nurse, and shivers so hard he thinks his teeth are going to come out. He was so scared. So fucking scared.

(They're sitting down to team breakfast, and Nursey is laughing at something Holster said, and Dex just happens to look over. Just happens to look, but in another moment he's caught. It's the silk of Nursey's skin that gets to him, the smoothness of it where stubble doesn't prick through. Dex has itched to touch for longer now than he can even remember. He's used to the itch. Even likes it.

Yo, Poindexter, Nursey says, catching his gaze. Gonna kick some ass today, huh?

The bulbous lights of the cafeteria reflect in Nursey's eyes, tiny eggs. Dex watches them with some amusement. If you're up for it, he shoots back. Nursey grins, and Dex's heart catches against his ribs with a wonderful, painful twinge. He gets the sudden, exhilarating feeling that today is going to be momentous.)

A weight on his knee. Nursey's hand. Dex looks down at it, incredulous. Is Nursey comforting him? But he's the one who almost...

"Will," Nursey says. "'s chill. I'm okay."

"You're still drunk," Dex snaps back, but now his eyes are wet and he's sure the salt sting isn't from river water. "Fuck, Nurse." He wipes his eyes aggressively.

Nursey frowns. "Bro. You crying?"

"Shut up, I'm not crying." Dex wipes his eyes and sniffles. "I don't cry."

"Don't think I ever had a dude cry over me," Nursey says. The words come out halting, and he pauses to take shallow breaths. "Don't really deserve it, man. But thanks."

"Shut up, Nursey." That, at least, is easy to say. Habit. "I thought -- Jesus, I thought I was gonna lose you."

"Lose me?" Nursey stumbles over the words. "That sounds like..." The corners of his mouth turn up, and he huffs out a soft laugh. "Maybe I am still drunk. Thought for a moment you were... nah. Nah, I'm daydreaming."

His eyes are starting to slip closed again. Panic rises in Dex's throat. He doesn't want Nursey to fall asleep, not when he's this cold. Dex doesn't know if that's dangerous but he doesn't want to find out. What if this is it? What if he closes his eyes and they don't open again? What if the next moment, Nursey's gone, and Dex never told him, never had the stones to find his way from thoughts to actions? What if this is his last chance?

Too many questions. Too little time. Dex does the only thing he can think to do. He covers Nursey's hand with his own and squeezes.

Nursey's eyes pop wide open. He sucks in a little breath. Peers at their joined hands on Dex's knee. Dex holds fast.

His gaze rises then, meets Dex's. His lips purse into an O. An unasked question.

Dex nods.

Nursey bites his lip hard, but it's not enough to keep down his smile. "Seriously?" he asks.

Dex nods again.

"I thought--" Half-laughing, half-sighing, Nursey looks at him with bright, alive eyes. "Well, I wasn't even sure you liked me, Poindexter. I ... wow. I sure as hell never thought you wanted me."

"You're an idiot," Dex tells him pointedly. Because he is. What a fucking idiot, to be this obtuse for this long and scare Dex enough to force this out of him. "Of course I like you."

"But... like that?" Nursey's trolling him now, trying to drag the embarrassing words out of him.

But Dex is sopping wet and relieved and he just doesn't care. "Yes, like that. Are we talking about this now?"

"Well, fuck, Poindexter." God damn him, god damn that smile. Where the hell is the ambulance? "I guess I'm glad I fell in that river."

"Don't say shit like that!" Dex's last nerve goes off like a firecracker. "If you liked me, Nurse, you could have kissed me instead of going and nearly getting yourself killed! You're a moron. Of course I'm into you. Why do you think I hang out with you, when you drive me out of my goddamn mind? Jesus." He shivers hard. "Of course it's you. It's always been you."

Nursey doesn't answer. But his hand in Dex's turns, and he curls his fingers around Dex's. It feels good. It feels real.

Dex finds it in himself, somehow, to smile.

And thank God, now he can hear sirens. The smile vanishes, and Dex looks daggers at Nursey. "Fine. Now you know. We'll talk about it when we're dried off and you're sober."

"Mm-mm." Nursey shakes his head. "When I'm sober, first thing I am doing is kissing the shit out of you."

"The hell? I just told you--" Dex makes a noise of frustration. He sets a mental reminder to punch Nursey in the face the next time he gets the chance.

Although it can probably wait until after they kiss.