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“I picked out the cake,” Brooks and Anderson said at the same time. “No, you didn’t, asshole.” Again, they said in tandem.
Felicity pushed a piece of cake into Derek’s hands. “It was probably Calvin.”
“I—I don’t know how to thank you all for this.” Derek rubbed his eyes as warm pressure arrived on his arm.
“Seriously, guys. Thank you.” Dylan stole some of the frosting off Derek’s piece before Derek could yank it away.
“Get your own, jackass.”
With a smirk, Dylan hustled over to the cake while two of the large Gallagher brothers converged on Derek, pulling him over to the small table in the living room.
“We need to talk to you for a second,” Anderson said in a low, discreet voice.
“Hard to believe this is the way things are turning out.” Brooks nodded.
“Uh—I guess?” Derek said, nonplussed. A sugary frosting flower melted on his tongue.
“We were so glad you brought Jake to try out that day,” Anderson said.
“You remember that?” Derek asked.
“’Course. We just wanted to tell you, we’re really sorry about what happened to Jake. And with what happened between you…” Brooks tapped the plastic fork tines against the plate and then dragged them through it like he was raking sand in a Zen garden. “We didn’t want you to think… We know these last few years have been really hard. Life’s shit sometimes, man.”
“But sometimes people find a way to be okay. He was such a good guy. Thought the world of you, Derek. That’s why we knew so much about you. We had thought it was a little brother thing at first, but… we finally figured it out.” Anderson huffed a sad laugh. “Felicity would just call that heteronormative thinking. Until we asked what he was planning, and he said second-chance romance, and then told us to shut the fuck up.”
“And he’d be so happy Derek’s happy. Right?” Brooks elbowed his brother, still speaking in that whisper. “Wouldn’t Murphy be so happy Derek’s happy?”
“Hundred percent. That last time we saw him, he told us he’d gotten sober and asked for help planning a date with some guy he thought was too good for him. We didn’t know who he was talking about, but he went on and on about it.” Anderson lowered his voice and moved to shield the conversation further. “We were going to give this to you at the Grill-Out, but then…”
“You kicked our asses real good,” Brooks finished.
“Give me what?” Derek set down his cake.
“The team’s coach found this in Jake’s hockey bag. His sister brought the gear back to the rink to donate a few months ago. Coach found it in the inside pocket. He figured it might be important to someone. Finally got a chance to go run up and get it from him the day before the Grill-Out. Even with what’s happening with you and Dilly, figured you might want it.” Anderson handed him a folded-up photo.
It was the last one taken on that damned disposable camera. Derek’s stomach sank. It was a really flattering photo of a shirtless Jake, who’d just taken off part of his Halloween costume, smiling at the camera in that broad way that made him look a little like a giant, blond, classic Hollywood movie star, his arms on display as he held the camera out. He’d pulled Derek close, and Derek’s hand had dropped to rest on Jake’s thigh. He was smiling, kind of, but mostly he was looking at Jake. Even though Derek still had a shirt on, nothing about the photo was subtle. He felt nothing beyond discomfort seeing himself back then, now knowing what he’d been feeling was just an unhealthy combination of gratitude, hero worship, and a defense mechanism against grief. He’d always miss Jake, but all the other feelings were gone. They wouldn’t have been right for each other in the end.
A hand clapped down on his shoulder. “You can let it out if you need to,” Brooks said, obviously misreading the expression on Derek’s face.
Derek shook his head. “No, I’m not upset abo—”
“We also wanted to tell you if you ever need to talk, we’re your bros now. We deserved that verbal ass-whipping. You’re everything Jake said you were.”
“We were rooting for you two. Just like we’re rooting for you with Dylan. Whatever you need, man.” Brooks’s voice tightened with genuine emotion.
Derek refolded the photo and slipped it into his pocket.
“What’d they give you?” Dylan’s strained voice broke through the conversation, making the two Gallagher brothers and Derek all jump.
“Nothing,” said Brooks at the time Anderson shrugged.
If an expression could shoot shards of glass, Dylan’s brothers would have been a bloody mess. “I swear to god if that’s a baby photo or something else embarrassing I’m going to kill you both. I thought we were past this bullshit.”
Derek was torn between being thrilled Dylan was standing up to his brothers and utterly disgusted with himself for being the reason Dylan needed to. Procrastinating was about to bite him in the ass. He knew it. God, Derek was such a coward.
“You said tonight wasn’t going to be a thing like before.” Dylan looked between his two brothers. “Was I stupid to believe you?”
“It’s not what you think.” Derek winced.