Hey everyone! This is a little one-shot detailing the events that may have transpired after MerDer got engaged. There is a very small section of potentially M rated content but it's barely anything. I hope you enjoy!
Derek found relief as he stepped through the front door of his home. The house he shared with Meredith, his fiancée, the love of his life. It wasn't perfect by any means. Meredith's pack of strays still lived across the hall. They invaded his personal space and often barged into the bathroom without thinking to knock but it didn't matter all that much anymore. Meredith was going to be his wife and he would just about put up with anything if it meant she'd give him forever.
The normally bustling home was eerily quiet. For a beat, Derek pondered the silence, a dour sort of feeling washed him over as he thought about why he'd been met with silence. Izzie had cancer. Inoperable tumors were taking over her brain like an army of dictators. He tackled the impossible only hours before. He wanted her to be okay for Meredith's sake. For himself too, he liked Izzie, even if he wasn't always as forthcoming about it. The strays were Meredith's family and she needed them in her life.
Was it insensitive to propose while Meredith's friend was dying? Maybe. But it was the sort of eye opener that only made Derek yearn for her more. Life was freaking short and people died for no reason. His father was taken from him too early. He knew about loss. It was almost painful how much Derek wanted her, needed her, and he couldn't hold out any longer. He was desperate that she knew no matter what, he would be there for her. Through the beautiful moments and the uglier ones. Through thick and thin. Through whatever else life threw their way.
His briefcase met the hardwood floor and his jacket warmed the armchair in the living room. Derek reached to comb his fingers through the waves of his hair. The rain shower had soaked him to the bone, his hair hung in damp strands around his forehead and ears. He wanted a shower but the desire to wait for Meredith was stronger. He didn't know when she'd be home but he also wasn't willing to bother her with incessant messages about her arrival.
The clamor of heavy rain chimed in rhythm with the beat of his shoes. He was slipping off the leather boots when he heard the sound of keys jingling inside the lock. Lexie perhaps. Derek was pleasantly surprised to find his newly minted fiancée coming over the threshold.
"Hi," Meredith breathed. She too seemed to be a victim of the storm. The golden strands of her hair were dark and damp against her shoulders. The violet of her purple sweater appeared black in the dim light of the living room.
"Hey," he smiled back. She took off running, her feet skidding along the floor as she rushed across slippery hardwood. Her arms flung around his neck and suddenly Derek had an armful of Meredith. She wrapped herself around him like a blanket.
Meredith's fingers scrunched the ends of Derek's hair. "I didn't think you'd be home so soon," she whispered against his ear. The warm tufts of her breath on his skin made him twitch.
"I um, finished with Owen early," he said. "I thought you'd be with Cristina for a while."
"I wanted to see you," she hummed into his neck and the smile that curled her rosy mouth was brilliant.
Derek's secret wish to have Meredith all to himself had come true. He wasn't envious of the relationship she shared with Cristina, not anymore. It definitely felt good to know she wanted to spend the night with him. This was her choice and she chose him.
They stood wrapped in each other's embrace for the passing minutes. Derek cradled her body so possessively that he felt the steady race of her heart against his ribcage. The desire to keep her in his arms forever was so very tempting but he could feel the way her body shivered in his grasp. He wanted her out of those wet clothes.
"You're shivering," Derek murmured.
His lips met the pulse of her elongated neck. Salt met his tongue. The heavy scent of lavender brimmed his surroundings and he was lost in the whirlwind of Meredith Grey. She was going to marry him. They would spend the rest of their lives together.
"The rain is freezing," Meredith said through chattering teeth. Derek's hand soothed her spine, his fingers creeping underneath the material of her shirt. Even her back was brisk to the touch. He wanted to warm her up.
"Come on," he grinned and they clamored their way up the staircase.
Floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Derek pushed open the door to the bedroom, his hand never unlatching from Meredith's, and guided her in with him. Streetlights glimmered through the blinds and it created enough of a glow to see without the need for a lamp. They started to tear at each other's clothes. Piece by piece their damp clothing fell to the floor. Derek reached to cup her cheeks in his palms. He brought her face to his own and kissed her in a ferocious sort of way. He relished the taste of her and the familiarity of her mouth against his. Meredith drew her hands down his torso, squeezing at his hips, inching her hands into the warmth of his boxers.
For a moment the world became a kaleidoscope of intense color. He fought the urge to bark out as the tip of her nails found the heat between his legs. Derek stretched his neck backward and inhaled to keep himself from emptying into the palm of her dainty hand. As the room pieced back together he found enough composure to step back, stopping her ministrations.
"Wait," Derek gasped breathlessly.
"Do you not want to?" Meredith questioned, a hint of worry lingering in the timbre of her tone. A flash of doubt eclipsed the gray of her irises.
He captured her lips to dissipate any of her reservations about his intentions. His hands slipped from her waist back to the porcelain of her face and they migrated to the dampened tendrils framing her skull.
"I do, god I want to," Derek murmured against her lips. A little more than two weeks had come and gone since he last had Meredith carnally. With his mother's visit, the serial killer, and Jen dying there'd been no room for intimacy. He cursed himself realizing a lot of that was on him. He hid out in the woods to drink his sorrows away when he should have just gone to her instead. He'd been selfish and stubborn. It nearly cost him the woman he loved most.
"Let me make you dinner first," he said.
His desire for her was an astronomical feeling. He wanted to press his fingers to every dimple and indention that her body had to offer. He yearned for the taste of her skin against his tongue and to listen as she called out his name while he drove her mad. But he also wanted to take his time. When he made love to her he wanted there to be purpose behind it.
Meredith's brows crinkled curiously. "You don't cook," she mused, stroking his sides soothingly.
"I definitely cook," he smirked.
"Do not!"
"Do too," he replied. Oh how Derek relished playing with his woman. "How do you think I survived out in the woods for all those years?"
Crinkling her nose she said, "I assumed Addison was doing all the cooking and you would just grill fish or whatever."
Derek bit back the laughter coiling in his throat. "Addison didn't cook, much like you don't. I was the housewife in that relationship," he reached to pull her closer. Her skin was surprisingly warm against his own despite the chill from the rain shower.
"When you say housewife all I can think of is you dusting with a little apron on."
He snorted at her comment, imagining the ridiculous scenario as it played out in his head. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He smirked.
The naughty glimmer that danced within her eyes told him yes before words did. Derek loved how ridiculous some of their conversations got. With Addison he felt so much of his personality had been dormant. He loved her at some point, he thought so at least, but it was nothing in comparison to the mountain of feeling he harbored for Meredith. There was nothing he couldn't share with her. The ugly bits and pieces of his persona didn't scare her away. She knew in theory he wasn't McDreamy. She loved him despite the flaws he carried and he loved her just the same. Getting the opportunity to be silly and vulnerable and open with another human being was gratifying.
"Dinner?" Derek's brow lifted as he brought their conversation back to its original point.
Meredith stood on the balls of her feet and her fingers cusped the smooth skin of his cheeks. She pressed her lips to his in a longing, drugging, hypnotizing kind of way that sent heat billowing up his spine. "Mmm, yes dinner," she grinned and the moonlight captured the beauty of her features damn nearly perfectly. "I'm so glad you shaved," she added, giggling.
Begrudgingly, Derek let go of her body and they slipped apart to find dry clothes. They dressed in comfortable silence, Derek often twisting his neck to glance at Meredith's body. She shielded the creamy skin of her torso once she noticed him shamelessly staring. He found himself smirking once he realized his old Bowdoin t-shirt was warming her body.
Slipping into a pair of gray sweats, Derek teased, "That's my shirt you know."
"Finders keepers or whatever," Meredith smirked back.
"Hmm," he mused and reached for her hand. They meandered down the staircase, only the sound of their bare feet thumping against the hardwood present.
The storm outside continued on and Derek listened as tree branches tapped on windowpanes. The quiet aside from the rainfall was surprisingly pleasant. Silence was a virtue Derek rarely got the pleasure of receiving. He became a surgeon because he craved the quiet nature of an OR. Growing up with four sisters in a cramped house wasn't the ideal scenario for solitude. It's why he chose the trailer; open space for miles. He wouldn't force Meredith's strays to leave even if he secretly wished the world was just Meredith and himself. But he made sure to take advantage of the peaceful house when they were gone.
Derek stood in front of the open fridge as he tried to pinpoint what he could make for the woman he loved. Living with roommates also meant there was a scarcity of food. "What can I make out of old cheese and Chinese takeout?" he asked with a smirk.
"Don't ask me, I live off cold pizza and cereal."
"That pains me," he responded.
"I grew up with a mother that lived at the hospital. There wasn't a lot of time for mother-daughter cooking sessions," she said.
Derek sighed as Meredith made the joke. She was so tortured and yet still managed to use that to her advantage. Despite all the crappy things she'd endured it didn't stop her from going forward. She lived through a horrible childhood and still somehow managed to love him in ways he didn't think were possible.
Tonight wasn't about how crappy of a mom Ellis Grey was. It was about their love and Derek was hellbent on keeping the mood light. "Lucky for you I grew up with a mom that loved to cook," he smiled softly. "Unlucky for me that meant I was forced to help make dinner till I was eighteen."
"Did she teach Mark how to cook?" She asked. Her arms slipped around his waist as he shut the fridge. Her palm rubbed his bare spine carefully and soothingly. He felt his eyelids dip and he purred in appreciation.
"Tried to but he had the attention span of a squirrel. He pretty much made fun of me any time I was helping mom out in the kitchen because he also thought cooking was for girls."
Meredith wrinkled her nose. "That's sexist."
"It was the late seventies and he was like eleven. To be fair he took any opportunity he could to get under my skin," Derek sighed and he thought back on certain memories from his childhood he couldn't shake. Mark was like his brother but that also meant they fought like siblings too.
"And you were friends with him because…?"
"He teased me but he defended me too. Especially at school, when other kids picked on me he was there to kick their butts on the playground. I was sensitive and shy unlike my sisters."
Meredith looked up at him thoughtfully. It never occurred to him that a lot of his life still remained a mystery to her. She knew him of course but the little things were still mysteries. She didn't know he'd been unpopular in high school or that he played the saxophone in the marching band. She would be his wife and Derek wanted her to know every bit he had to offer.
There was time he thought. They would have the rest of their lives to learn the ins and outs of one another.
"Those kids were morons," Meredith whispered, delicately strumming her fingers down his back. The love that glistened within her irises was so intense he wanted to weep. All mine his conscience roared. Mine, mine, mine! "I know they'd be eating their words if they saw you now."
He simply smiled at her. He didn't keep up with old classmates, the majority of them likely peaked in high school. Derek wasn't seeking their validation anyways. The only opinion he cared about was Meredith's.
"Seriously, what can I make you for dinner?" He asked as he shifted their conversation.
"Well I hate Chinese…" she giggled.
"What? You don't want old Chinese takeout soufflé?"
"I think I'll pass," she said and pressed a kiss to the center of his chest.
"Let me figure something out," he murmured and he kissed the top of her golden haired head.
There ended up being pasta noodles in the cupboard and he found a sauce to make them spaghetti. It was nothing incredible or intricate but it was edible. Meredith loved pasta and his mother taught him years back how to doctor up a store bought sauce with a few tricks.
Meredith lingered in his space while he prepared their dinner. She hopped on the counter at some point, her long legs dangling against the cabinets, and she watched as he boiled the angel hair noodles. She didn't offer to help but mostly because he would have lovingly swat her away because of her wretched cooking karma. He enjoyed preparing things for her even if she found his need to take care of her overbearing. Tonight she made no comment and instead embraced his actions with open arms.
"I think it's sweet you cooked with your mom," Meredith grinned at him.
"My dad always helped out in the kitchen before he died. She loved the company and after he passed I didn't want her to be lonely. She taught me how to knit too. Said it was good for dexterity," he mused.
Meredith scoffed and he resisted the urge to smirk. "What can't you do? How is it that you knit and cook but I can't do either of those things?" She asked curiously.
They both knew why she didn't posses that sort of skill set but neither brought it up. Ellis Grey was an excellent surgeon but a horrible mother. If there were awards for bad parents she'd win first place next to Thatcher Grey. It twisted Derek's heart when he thought about Meredith learning to survive on her own. Maybe that was his reasoning behind the compulsion to take care of her even when she resisted. Derek ached to love her in ways she hadn't been loved before.
Derek's expression softened and he left the sauce unattended as he turned to find her hand. Their fingers interlocked and he squeezed her delicate surgeon digits assuringly. "If you want to learn those things then I will teach you," he said seriously, with no hint of sarcasm present.
"You don't have to compensate for my crappy childhood," she responded.
"But I do, Meredith. We're going to be married and as your family it's my job to look out for you. You didn't grow up with siblings or a mom who wanted you. If you want to learn how to make a casserole or knit a stupid sweater then we can do those things. This is our life together," Derek reached to stroke her cheek as he spoke. She leaned into his touch lovingly.
Meredith nervously chewed at her bottom lip while she silently debated whether or not what he said was an empty promise. It was haunting to realize she set herself up for disappointment. His insides twisted to knots knowing some of that was his fault. He wanted to be better for her. He needed to be better.
"But I sucked at knitting," Meredith sighed.
"Then I'll teach you how to fish or something."
"Okay," she said after a few fleeting moments. She grinned, the mere sight of her smile enough to melt his insides. He loved her. So much.
Meredith remained glued to the countertop till Derek finished. "Let's sit in the living room," she suggested and they carried their bowls and wine glasses to the coffee table. They sat together on the sofa, Meredith draping her legs across the expanse of Derek's lap.
"Were you a chef in your past life?" She asked through a mouthful of spaghetti.
Derek snorted, "Your standards for a good meal are concerningly low."
She shrugged and continued shuffling the noodles into her mouth. Derek stroked her from knee to thigh. Her skin was silk beneath his fingers. He loved her legs. He couldn't stop touching her.
"Do you think Izzie is going to be okay?" Meredith quipped suddenly.
Derek pursed his lips as he contemplated her question. Honestly? He didn't know. Cases such as Izzie's were rare and often complicated. Unfortunately the outcomes he knew of weren't always great. But he didn't want to be a pessimist. After Jen the last thing he wanted was to look for the worst.
"I hope so," Derek said softly, smiling sadly.
She left her bowl disregarded on the floor and leaned forward to kiss him. She tasted like tomatoes and red wine. Derek reached to sift his hands into her hair as they kissed. "Please don't die," Meredith gasped into his mouth. She was scared. Fuck, they were all fucking terrified. The world was such an uncertain place. If he could help it, he'd do everything in his power to be with her until the end of time.
"I'm going to do my best," and he kissed her to solidify his promise.
Their dinner was left forgotten. Derek reached for her hand to guide her off the couch. They didn't bother cleaning up the bowls or even the wine. That would be a worry for tomorrow.
"I need you," Meredith whispered once the door to their bedroom closed behind them.
Derek refused to waste another second and he fulfilled her request with a passionate and hazy kiss. Her back bumped against the wall as they moved backwards. They were animalistic with one another. Derek's hands slipped his t-shirt Meredith wore up and off her body. Her hands slipped into the waistband of his sweatpants and she inched them down his hips. Soon enough they laid each other bare and Derek took her without missing a beat.
Right there against the wall of their bedroom he loved her and made love to her. Meredith pressed her face into the juncture of his shoulder as their bodies moved together. "Derek," his name ripping from her throat in a mashup between a gasp and a moan. Derek clenched his teeth as her nails clawed his back. Their tangle of limbs twisted and twirled until they were off the wall and in the bed. Meredith was a goddess beneath him. The golden strands of her hair were a halo surrounding her face. There was admiration in her eyes and he knew she loved him as much as he did her.
Meredith held his face as he pushed into her. Hot and heavy had been the wall. They were gentle, compassionate, slow as they loved within the sheets of their bed. Derek left no inch of her body untouched. His hands ran down her sternum and belly before finding a home between her thighs.
"I love you," Derek grunted, panting against her lips. "I love you so much."
"I love you," Meredith whimpered.
He held her as she came and shook all around him. The tail end of her high sent him spiraling. He almost lost her. Lost this feeling of love and sanctuary. The thought so painful he nearly cried. They were boneless after bliss carried them away. They laid next to each other, grinning, panting, sharing delicate kisses.
Derek pressed his hand over his eyes as the moonlight slipping through the blinds was suddenly too bright. The house was still silent. It was just the two of them. He felt Meredith shift and slip around him. He nuzzled the end of his chin against her head and they lay cocooned together.
"What is your favorite color?" Derek blurted.
Meredith chuckled at his random question. "What?"
"I know your blood type but I don't know what your favorite color is. We're going to be married, I think I should know that," he continued.
Meredith twisted her fingers in the whorl of hair between his pectorals. He draped his hand against her own. "Red. My favorite color is red, although purple is a really close second," she said.
Derek grinned lazily. Red. Meredith was radiant in red. He thought about her red bathrobe. The red sweater she wore the night she constructed their house of candles. The red of her lips. Purple was beautiful on her too. The lilac sweater she wore the night he told her how he felt was engraved into his memories.
"Hmm," he hummed. "I like you in red."
"I like you in red. The night we met, remember?" Meredith said.
"My good looking red shirt."
"Good looking enough to make me fall in love with you."
Derek's eyelids dipped. Post sex lethargy was beginning to settle in. The adrenaline waning. He brought Meredith closer and squeezed her skin. Her body was a furnace as they cuddled. "I should wear it more often," he quipped and yawned toward the end of his sentence.
"Yes," Meredith agreed.
They shifted into dreams holding one another.
Happy MerDer day everyone! I hope everyone enjoyed. How has it been twenty years since MerDer met at a bar? Let me know your thoughts!