Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Derek Venturi x Trevor (Life With Derek)
The door goes, and Derek is immediately rushing around his room to collect his things. “Edwin, get the door!”
Phone. Shoved into pocket. His jacket. Already on, and looking as good as always, if he does say so himself. Keys. He stops. Does he need his keys? Nora and his dad will probably leave the door unlocked for him.
The door goes again. “Edwin! Door!” he shouts.
He grabs his keys from his desk anyway, deciding it’s better to be safe than sorry. Voices are coming from downstairs now. He hurries to grab his wallet — double checks that his money is definitely still there, because he doesn’t trust that Edwin didn’t sneak it after their argument last night as payback — then he swings out of his bedroom.
He nearly comes crashing down the stairs. A little more breathless than he’d like to admit, he hops the last three to get to the door. Then his stomach drops. Trevor’s there, right on time, like he said — but so is Casey.
“Damn it, Edwin,” he curses under his breath. He had one job: answer the door. It was that simple! Yet he’s nowhere to be seen.
Trevor smiles at him all the same like nothing’s out of the ordinary. At least that has to mean Casey hasn’t had the chance to say too much.
“Hey,” he says, turning to him. His eyes flit over him briefly, but his smile twitches a little further up. “You’re probably going to stand out a lot. You know that, right?”
Derek glances down at himself as well, then grins, and straightens out his jacket. “That’s the point.”
“Uh, sorry,” Casey finally speaks, and his grin drops right off his face as she turns to him, frowning. “What’s going on here?”
Trevor raises his eyebrows at Derek, his head tilting as if asking him. See, this is what he was trying to avoid!
He fumbles for a response, rubbing the back of his neck. Trying to stall with nervous laughter evidently doesn’t work. Who would’ve thought?
Trevor sees him struggling and jumps in to help. “After the whole bet thing, I still had the tickets,” he tells Casey. “And since Derek was the cause of it all — and he offered to go in the first place — I’m making him keep his word.”
See, why couldn’t he have just explained it like that? So simple!
Casey looks doubtful. “You’re actually going?” she asks Derek, practically smirking. “You, Mr. Hockey Player, tough jock, hates any music that doesn’t involve screaming at the top of your lungs. You’re going to a punk concert?”
Shrugging, Derek says, “I’m a man of my word, and I said I would go, so I will. It’s only a couple hours.”
He gestures to the door and Trevor gets the message, quickly moving to open it. The faster they make their escape, the less painful this whole thing is.
“Okay,” Casey’s saying as he gently pushes Trevor out the door, “well, have fun, I guess? And, don’t be out too late! If you’re even a minute late, I’m not unlocking the door for you! I mean it, Derek!”
“Uh huh. Thanks, Case, cool.”
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