triskehale | (no subject)

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barry

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Progress on the restaurant is far more slow going than it would have been if Derek had hired an actual construction crew to do it, but he hasn't. He brings in specialists for bigger jobs like plumbing and wiring, and has the foundation and skeletal structure inspected before building on it, but he enjoys doing the bulk of the work himself, along with the ragtag crew he's assembled. Derek is good at stuff like this, and it makes him feel closer to his dad. He taught Derek everything he knew while they built an expansion together on the house the summer that Derek was fifteen. It was just before he met Paige, and sort of his last completely innocent memories before his life started to go to shit.

It's better now, here in Darrow. Even with the way people leave him, it's better here. He howls at night sometimes, for Kate and Newt and Helen and everyone he's lost, but it's still better.

The restaurant is taking shape under his own hands, and Derek gets to hear his dad's steady, warm tone laying out instructions in the back of his mind as he goes. It takes his mind off of the more painful things, and he focuses on the memories. It used to be so painful to think about all the people he's lost, more painful still to talk about them, but he's learned that it's the memories that keep them all alive.

Everyone that Derek has hired, aside from the specialists that come in and out, knows that Derek is a wolf. They don't bat an eye when he lifts a whole bundle of lumber without so much as a grunt, or hefts the frame of an entire wall into place by himself, or misses with a hammer and crushes his thumb only to have it heal by the time the nail can even turn purple. Barry, on the other hand, still keeps his secret identity safely under wraps. Derek knows of his desire to help, and senses the occasional frustration that he puts out when he forces himself to work at human speed when he pitches in.

Tonight he sends everyone home around six, just as pink hues are starting to streak up from the horizon, and by the time Derek has the door shut with them locked alone inside the empty shell of the restaurant, Barry has the entire concrete floor swept with all the dust and nails in a neat little pile in the corner. Derek huffs and comes over to kiss him, breathing in the scent of him and new wood and still drying tile grout.

"Hungry?" Derek asks as his own stomach growls, and he wipes a bit of drywall dust from Barry's brow with the pad of his thumb. "You better take me up on my dinner offer, because I'm putting you to work tonight."

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"Oh yeah?" asks Barry with a grin. He nearly nips the tip of Derek's finger, but the dust stops him. "Like, sexy work?" he continues with a waggle of his brows, but then they knit. "Or building work? You know, I really could finish this place in a day if you want me to. And you could be totally involved, I wouldn't just be taking it over."

His eyebrows lift again, this time expectant. As fun as it is helping Derek with his new baby, working at the pace they're going is boring.

"Are you saying that sex with me is a chore?" Derek teases, quirking a brow and cupping the side of Barry's neck before letting his hand fall away. Barry is obviously eager to help and Derek can't help but to return the puppyish grin that's aimed his way.

"I know you could." Truth is, they could have had it done a lot sooner. There's a part of Derek that enjoys the slow pace, because he's still nervous about the opening. Sometimes he feels like an idiot for thinking that he can run a restaurant by himself, and he ends up having to talk himself out of the anxiety. Lots of people believe in him. Barry believes in him, and that's enough to bolster him on days that he doesn't quite believe in himself. "I was thinking you could put the floor in while I make us something to eat."

He gestures towards the stack of boxes of stone tile, something that looks nice but will still be easy to clean without getting slippery. Barry had helped to choose it one night when an obviously frustrated Derek dragged the catalog into bed. "I bet you could have the whole dining room done before I can even sear the steaks."

It's sort of a perfect task for Barry, who is bursting with energy and the desire to help. Even with as fast as he'll be going, Derek knows he'll pay attention to detail and do a good job.

"And then who knows," Derek says dryly, gesturing Barry over towards the tiles to show him how it's done. "Maybe if you do a good job we can see about that sexy work."

Barry glances at the stone tiles. They're heavy enough that it might actually prove a real task to get them all arranged in a hurry, and he smiles and shrugs, glancing at the locked front door and covered windows before he pulls off his shirt.

"It's sexy work now," he says, flexing his (admittedly far less impressive than Derek's) abs. Barry sets off after, moving in an electric blur around the room, and in the middle of the floor a picture begins to form. A picture, in stone tiles, of a butt.

"This is what you wanted, right?" Barry asks from somewhere near Derek's left.

"Well, now you're making me not want to go cook," Derek drawls out, eyes raking over Barry's frame with obvious appreciation. His eyes even flare a little, the barest glow of embers before they fade back to pale hazel.

And then Barry is moving, a red and gray blur as he moves around the space with stone tiles. Derek is just about to leave him to it, turning on his heels to head to the kitchen, when Barry's voice makes him pause. It takes him a moment to realize what he's seeing, and he huffs a laugh as he shakes his head in fond exasperation.

"Very nice. Self portrait?" Derek asks, easily picking up a few of the stone tiles and walking along the crack of the ass that Barry has created on his floor. "If so, you missed two of my favorite details."

With a flourish, Derek lays down the stones in two small lines, one above each cheek. "The dimples."

Barry grins and watches Derek add a flourish to his design, but it's not exactly what he'd thought it would be. "I have ass dimples?" he asks, turning a brief circle, but not even Barry's fast enough to see his own butt. "I thought you were putting down the lightning bolts from my suit."

He feels at his bottom and lower back, but he can't detect anything, and Barry turns so that his back is to Derek. "Take a picture and let me see!"

"And here I thought the lightning bolts were an homage to the ass dimples," Derek replies, watching in amusement as Barry spins like a dog chasing its tail. "Look, if I pull down your pants right now, no work is getting done."

He flushes a little and rubs at his scruffy jaw. "Besides, I might already have one. Maybe."

There's a picture on his phone of Barry sleeping in their bed, sprawled on his belly with the sheets draped artfully low across his hips like someone posed him for a photo shoot. Derek couldn't resist.

"Not that I take pictures of you sleeping," Derek says flatly, taking his phone from his pocket and clutching it between his palms. "A lot."

"Oh wow, yeah," says Barry, peering down at the photo. Ass dimples, who knew?
His eyes flick up. In day to day life, he tries to be responsible with his powers, to use them to help, not harm, but the temptation now is just too great.

"What else is in here?" Barry asks, speeding the phone into his hands so he can swipe through the photos. "Oh my god!" he cries, turning the phone around so Derek can see the picture of Barry stuffing his face with two hamburgers. "I look like a kid with his first Happy Meal!"

"I'm very fond of-- hey!" There's little that Derek can do when Barry snatches the phone, but he can't think of anything on there that he wouldn't mind Barry seeing. There's a lot of pictures of Barry himself, and the animals, and various inspirations for the restaurant.

The phone is suddenly in his face and Derek laughs at the photo, reaching up to take the phone back from him. He slides it back into his pocket and then reaches out to grab Barry by the hips.

"Okay, now have to feel them," Derek says, tugging Barry's shirt up so he can fit his thumbs into the slight dimples above Barry's ass. "And you always look like that when someone gives you food."

Barry leans back against his hands. "Probably even before I got my powers," he admits. "I've always been a beanpole, no matter what I eat." He'd never even had a chubby kid period, though that was mostly because he hadn't felt like eating much after his mom died. "What about you?" Barry asks, curious.

"Do even werewolf toddlers have sick triceps and ripped abs?"

"I can't believe that I had to spend a week as a sixteen year old and you weren't even here yet," Derek says with a put upon sigh, thumbs stroking over the dimples and dipping briefly into the waistband of Barry's pants. "You totally could have taken my virginity."

He laughs, but he does like the thought of it. His real first time was a disaster that ruined his life. Of course, not that sleeping with Barry while he was magically sixteen for a week would have cured any of that, but it would have been nice.

"And surprisingly no." He huffs out a laugh, corners of his eyes crinkling as he thinks about his family. "I was pretty skinny. My ears and front teeth were too big, but I don't think that's changed even now. One spring I got pretty chubby and Laura gave me hell, but then that summer I shot up eight inches and was taller than her, so that pissed her off."

Talking to Barry about his family is easy most of the time, and sometimes it doesn't even hurt. He wants Barry to know them, however he can.

"They're not too big," says Barry with a scrunched, disbelieving smile. He knows that Derek doesn't always see himself the way Barry - and surely most people - does, but he's almost unbelievably handsome, inside and out. Barry sticks his fingers behind Derek's ears until they poke out. "I mean, maybe if they were like this..."

He groans. "People's high school year books don't show up here, do they? If they do I'm in trouble."

"That's probably more accurate," Derek says with a laugh as Barry wiggles his ears. He moves his hands to rest on Barry's hips, gazing at him fondly. "Anything's possible. Maybe you'll have to spend a week as a teenager sometime and I'll get to take your virginity."

His eyes glaze over a bit as he imagines Barry as a teenager, with big eager green eyes and big hands he hadn't quite groan into yet, and then shakes himself out of it. "I probably shouldn't find that idea as appealing as I do."

His hands travel up Barry's sides and then grip his shoulders, thumbs brushing along the soft skin above his shirt collar. They're the same age, so Derek tries to imagine what it might have been like if they had encountered each other as kids. "I would have liked you, I think. I've always had a thing for nerds."

"You will definitely not find that appealing if my yearbooks ever show up," says Barry with a shudder, for despite the sincerity in Derek's eyes, he can't imagine anyone wanting him back when he was almost twenty. "And I'm not a nerd! I'm just...good with science. And technology. And looked like a walking scarecrow in high school, it's not the same. I didn't even wear glasses."

Barry's spectacleless eyes narrow. "You had a thing for the other Darrow's me, didn't you?"

"You're a little bit of a nerd, but I like it," Derek assures him, and immediately goes a bit squirrelly at Barry's sudden question. They don't really talk about that time and to have Barry make a joke about it takes him a bit by surprise. It's good, though.

"I was slightly busy at the time," Derek says lightly, not wanting to ruin the moment. He was so busy thinking about his own Barry, focused almost entirely on finding him, but the other Barry had been-- nice. He allows himself to think about him, conjuring him up in his mind's eye, and he feels his cheeks flush slightly.

"He wasn't you," Derek says simply, shrugging one shoulder and reaching up to slide the pad of his index finger up the thin bridge of Barry's nose as if he were pushing up a pair of glasses. "But I can't deny that I saw the appeal. His hair was even swoopier than yours."

"You like it swoopy, huh?" asks Barry, quietly touching his hair. He hadn't even thought about bringing that time up. He supposes that's a good thing, that he hadn't obsessed, or worried about what it might mean, but it feels a little strange now.

"I saw him," he admits. "And the other you. They looked happy." He runs his hand down Derek's back and feels a little steadier. "It helped me get my head on. And come back."

Edited 2017-10-02 01:00 (UTC)

It's easy for Derek to reach up and slide his fingers through Barry's hair, watching as it slips across his skin like silk. What Barry says makes Derek meet his eyes, one brow quirking in vague surprise. He hadn't known that Barry had seen their doubles, and he wonders if maybe they should have tried to talk more about what happened. Derek kept quiet about it because that's what he's always done, but he's certainly not going to stop Barry from talking about it now.

"They had easy lives," Derek says after a moment. Their doubles hadn't gone through all the loss that they had, and their smiles were wide and open. Derek didn't see much of his own double, but the image of his open and honest expression still sits with him. It had been strange and a little heartbreaking to know what could have been.

"They did seem happy," he admits, gently sliding his hand along Barry's cheek. "But so are we, right? They had each other and so do we. Seems like we can't keep away from each other in any universe."

"That's true," Barry agrees, smiling against Derek's hand. "And with any luck, me ripping a small hole in their universe will be the worst that ever happens to them. It is weird to think about."

Barry pulls Derek's hand from his cheek to hold instead. "Even before Darrow, our lives weren't normal. And before I had powers, I had a crazy conspiracy to solve involving my dad and an impossible man. I don't have the first idea of what normal is supposed to look like."

"Yeah, well. I was born a werewolf," Derek replies with a soft huff of laughter. "Normal isn't anything I know anything about either."

He squeezes Barry's hands, looking down to watch as their fingers thread together. The tiles catch his eye and he laughs, slinging an arm around Barry's shoulders and pulling him in to press a kiss to his forehead. "I can't believe we're having this heart to heart on top of a giant ass."

Barry snorts. "I'm totally leaving one behind in glue." He peels away from Derek's side and kicks off again, removing all the tiles in a blink. He grabs the glue as he races by, then uses it to form first a butt, then a large D & B with a heart drawn around them, both visible for only seconds before they're covered over with tile. The entire floor fills up, and Barry reemerges from the speedforce, one shoulder against the wall as he catches his breath again.

"Food now?"

Barry moves away from him and Derek feels his hair flutter at the sudden gust of air, quickly moving back into the doorway of the kitchen so that he's not in the way. The design Barry creates with the glue is visible only for the briefest of moments, but it makes something warm and fond curl in his chest. A grin splits his face, one of the rarer ones that still sometimes catch him by surprise. He's still grinning when Barry returns to his side, and it softens into something hopelessly fond as he reaches out to smooth Barry's disheveled hair. His heart is beating so fast that it's more of a comforting hum, and Derek rests his palm on Barry's chest just to feel it beating.

"Food now," Derek confirms. He's starving, so he can only imagine how hungry Barry must be after all that exertion. "You want to eat at the bar or at home?"

"Here," says Barry immediately. He could have them home in moments, but those are whole moments that he's not eating a hamburger, and they are unacceptable. "You want me to do the prep?" he asks, already disappearing in a blur to do just that. Within seconds, the grill is lit, the ingredients are present and waiting for assembly, and Barry is pushing forward a very large mound of ground beef.

"Can we do sliders and regular size burgers? And onion straws?"

Derek opens his mouth to answer the question, though he's not sure why he wasted the energy when Barry isn't even there to hear it. He shakes his hed in fond amusement and follows Barry into the kitchen, standing back until the red blur, tinged silver at the edge with the knife he's holding, slows to a halt.

"Pushy," Derek replies, taking in the hopeful look on Barry's face as he goes to the sink to wash his hands. After giving Barry a brief kiss and a nod, he steps up to the grill. He's in his element here, and the first thing he makes is a simple grilled cheese sandwich to tide Barry over. He slides it over on a plate and tears off the corner of the sandwich to pop into his mouth before he starts forming the patties.

He gives Barry small tasks to help hurry along the process and it isn't long before they have a mound of food in front of them. He can hear voices and heartbeats out in the bar so he directs Barry instead to his office, wanting the quiet after a long day's work.

"Have I earned my keep?" Derek asks, arching a brow playfully as he pushes a heaping plate of sliders across the desk.

Barry is grateful for the tasks. He's learned to be patient about waiting for things that could take him seconds to accomplish, but sometimes it's still hard, especially when he's hungry. Also, the sight of Derek handling raw meat and shaping it into patties is erotic in ways he doesn't feel like examining about himself, so he's happy when the whole process is over and they're sat down to eat.

"Yeah, I'll keep you," Barry grins, pushing half a slider into his mouth. It's too hot, but somehow that's perfect, juices dripping through the cool lettuce and the crispy onions. "Mmm," Barry groans.

"You just love me for my food," Derek says, affecting a put upon sigh as he reaches for a slider of his own. "And my body."

He smirks before biting through the slider, getting distracted by the sight of Barry ripping through his own food. His lips are shiny with grease and Derek has to look away once Barry starts licking at his fingers without shame. Making sure that Barry is well fed already satisfies the wolf in him, and then Barry has to tear into his food with messy, reckless abandon and somehow make it wildly attractive.

They tear through the food quickly enough, slurping down drinks and licking messy fingers. Derek leans back in his chair and pats his stomach, relishing in the sensation of actually being full.

"But that's okay," Derek sighs out, picking up the thread of their earlier teasing. "As long as you keep putting out, I'll keep feeding you."

Barry's eyes are half lidded, and though he never feels completely full, right now, slumped back in his chair with his belly full of burgers, he's more than satisfied. "You say that like my bill's come due," he notes, dragging a stray onion straw through a puddle of grease to pop in his mouth.

"Between here and the regular meals at the cabin, I've racked up quite a tab."