Dempsey siblings

Kian

Dean's debriefs were always my favourite part of him having a crush.

They were ridiculous. Dramatic. Full of unnecessary detail and conclusions drawn from someone sneezing in his direction or holding a door open too long.

But tonight's?

Tonight's was Conor's first debrief.

A milestone moment for any of Dean's mates.

And the poor lad had no idea what was about to hit him.

Dean was pacing my bedroom, hands flailing as he recounted every single second of Luke Dempsey taking his shirt off in Mallory's kitchen like he was narrating a biblical event. I was lounged on the bed, half-listening, mostly entertained, and Conor was sitting cross-legged on the floor, wide-eyed like he was witnessing a ritual.

"I swear to God, Ki," Dean said, dead serious. "He smirked at me when he handed me the butter. Smirked. And he said my name like—like he already knew me."

Conor blinked up at him. "He did know you, though. He asked if you were Dean."

Dean pointed at him like he'd just solved quantum physics. "Exactly. Why did he remember my name? He's only seen me once."

I smothered a grin. "Maybe because you choked on a roast potato while making eyes at him."

Dean shot me a glare. "It was a tactical error."

"Sounded more like a near-death experience."

He ignored me and kept pacing. "I'm not even sure it's a crush, anyway. I mean... I've met him once. Maybe I just think he's—y'know. Attractive. Like, on a surface level."

Conor raised a hand hesitantly. "So why are you googling his club team and watching his match highlights on YouTube on the way home?"

Dean paused mid-step.

I lost it.

"You what?" I gasped between laughs.

"I wanted to see if he was good, alright?!" Dean snapped, grabbing the nearest cushion and chucking it at my head. "It's research."

Conor leaned over to me and whispered, "Is this normal?"

I nodded solemnly. "For Dean? This is normal."

And Dean, still flustered and definitely blushing, sat down on the end of the bed with a sigh.

"I hate you both," he muttered.

But he didn't mean it. Not really. Because the truth was, he liked the debriefs as much as we did. Maybe even more.

Even if it was just a surface-level thing.

Even if it went absolutely nowhere.

Dean in crush-mode was peak Dean.

And I wasn't missing a second of it.

_______

I mean, sure—Luke's seen us around school before. Me, Dean, sometimes Conor in tow. Usually attached to Mal and Rena. But it's always been a background thing. A nod-in-the-hall, passing-glance sort of vibe.

Especially with Serena.

They've got this weird unspoken sibling truce where they don't talk at school. Like, aggressively don't. Not in a mean way, just... a silent agreement that their lives inside the gates are completely separate. Serena pretends he doesn't exist in the corridors, and Luke returns the favour by never acknowledging her unless it's absolutely necessary. And honestly? We've all just learned to accept it.

But today?

Luke broke it.

We were coming out of maths, Dean rambling on about some Luke-related TikTok he found, when the bloke himself appeared—like, out of nowhere—and nodded at me and Dean.

Then he looked straight at Serena and said, "You left your charger at home. Mam said to give it to you."

Serena just blinked, like someone had spoken to her in Latin.

Luke held it out, all casual. "It's the one with the chewed end."

Serena took it without saying a word, still staring at him like he'd grown another head, and he just shrugged and walked off like it was nothing.

Dean looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Did Luke Dempsey just—talk to his sister? In public?"

"Didn't just talk," I muttered, watching Serena's expression shift from stunned to suspicious. "He was actually... kind of sound about it."

She shoved the charger in her bag and kept walking like it hadn't rattled her, but her ears were pink. And not from the wind.

Dean leaned closer to me, whispering like he was reporting for Sky News. "Do you think he's softening? Like, domesticated Luke?"

I laughed. "Not a chance. He probably just wanted to show off in front of someone."

Dean blinked. "In front of who?"

I didn't answer, just gave him a look.

It took him a second. Then—

"Oh my God."

Exactly.

Luke Dempsey breaking the school sibling code wasn't just a random moment.

It was intentional.

And maybe—just maybe—someone should warn Dean's heart.

_______

By lunch, Dean had convinced himself it meant something.

Luke talking to Serena in public? That was, according to Dean, "a shift in the narrative."

I didn't have the heart to tell him he was the only one narrating.

We were sat under the outdoor shelter by the pitch, chips between the three of us boys, Dean mid-ramble about Luke's "bicep-to-shoulder ratio" like it was a metric he'd measured himself, when Serena and Mal dropped down beside us with all the force of someone who'd had enough of her brother's existence.

"Okay," she snapped, dropping her bag with a dramatic thud. "What the hell is he doing?"

Dean blinked. "Who?"

She gave him a look like he'd just asked what two plus two was.

"Luke, obviously."

Dean immediately tried to act chill, but his grip on his chip tightened like it owed him something.

I bit back a grin. "You alright there, Rena?"

"No, I am not alright," she said, eyes sharp. "He gave me a bottle of water in the corridor and said 'hydrate, idiot.' Then just walked away."

Dean made a strangled noise. I think it was meant to be a laugh.

"That's... kind of sweet?" I offered.

"It's suspicious," Serena hissed. "We do not talk at school. We don't exist to each other. That's the arrangement. Why is he suddenly playing big brother in front of people?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Maybe... he's just trying to be nice?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "He's never nice. Not unless he wants something."

There was a pause.

Then Dean said, way too fast, "Maybe he wants to impress someone."

Serena stared at him.

I stared at him.

He froze.

Then turned bright red.

Serena leaned back slowly, one eyebrow rising. "Right..."

I could practically see the gears turning in her head, the slow dawning realisation that her brother's recent shift in behaviour might not have anything to do with her at all.

I nudged Dean under the table. "Smooth."

He shoved a chip in his mouth and refused to make eye contact with anyone.

But it was too late.

The seed had been planted.

And Serena?

Serena was going to figure it out.

Whether Dean liked it or not.