triskehale | (no subject)

Entry tags:

david,
patrick

(no subject)

Derek isn't sure what led to him standing in front of David and Patrick's store at closing time. He had been at Semele's and after about his third glass of wolfsbane ale, Kira had cut him off. This isn't like you, she had said, but that was kind of the point.

For just a little while, he wanted to not be himself.

After being gently nudged out of his own bar by a turquoise-haired girl half his size, Derek had just sort of wandered. He isn't drunk, not really, but there is a pleasant sort of buzz that makes his irises crackle red as the poison works its way through his system. All he knows is that he doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, and the people he can turn to are dwindling either because it's gotten all complicated or they keep fucking disappearing.

So, Rose Apothecary it is. David and Patrick are kind to him. They know he's a wolf but they don't know about how he got his whole family killed because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. They don't know about how he found half of his sister's body because he wasn't there to protect her, or how much of a failure he is as an alpha. They don't know how broken he is, or how much he's controlled by some rock in the sky a million miles away.

They're normal, David and Patrick. Not in a boring way but in a way that he has craved for most of his life. They're in love. They're content. He wants to bury his face in their necks and breathe it all in and just bask in it for a little while, this thing he'll never have.

He wants to be with his friends.

He's just stepping up to the door as David is moving to lock it on the other side, and Derek gives him a little wave before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, unsure of what to say. He doesn't want to be alone, but he doesn't want to say that out loud.

"Hey," he says through the glass. "You guys busy?"

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It's not exactly weird being friends with a werewolf, but it's absolutely weird being friends with a werewolf. And David would think it's safe to say that he and Patrick are definitely both friends with Derek by now, given how much time they'd spent with him while he was installing the shelves in the store. It's because they're friends that David pulls the door open when Derek appears on the other side, looking suspiciously bleary-eyed.

"We're just closing up," he says, casting a glance back to where Patrick has finished balancing the register and is putting the cash into the safe to take to the bank for deposit the next morning. "And then..."

Nothing, he thinks. They were just going to go upstairs and eat dinner probably. Be adorable and domestic, but nothing special.

Patrick glances up and when he sees that it's Derek, he smiles warmly, gesturing for him to come inside. "He means no," he says amicably and with an easy smile, rubbing a hand over David's back as he closes up the safe. When he gets closer, he can smell the alcohol and see the state of him, but he's not exactly in a place to judge.

Besides, that just means that he should definitely be sticking around.

"David, do you want to try that new barbeque place?" he suggests. "Maybe order enough for everyone, and then we don't have to worry about dishes?"

Derek steps into the shop at Patrick's urging, though he keeps his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets like he's trying to make himself look smaller. This space should be overwhelming to Derek's nose because of all the candles and creams and carefully crafted perfumes, but he actually finds it pretty relaxing. There aren't many places that don't grate on his nerves.

"New barbeque? Are you cheating on me?" Derek asks with a quirk of a smile, feeling slightly bowled over by Patrick's easy generosity. He looks at the two of them together and feels a little like an intruder. All of his darkness doesn't need to muck up this peaceful place that they've built together.

"I don't want to interrupt your dinner," he says after a moment, shrugging a little as he removes one of his hands from his pockets to rub at the back of his neck. "I just wanted--"

He can't bring himself to finish, because he doesn't even know what to say. That he doesn't want to be alone, that he wants to just exist in their orbit for awhile? That he would actually just really love a fucking hug? No, he can't bring himself to say any of those things, so he settles on a different truth.

"I've had kind of a shitty few days," he admits, feeling his cheeks color as he looks around. "I guess I wanted to go somewhere happy."

"Okay, that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me," David answers, then starts to wave Derek and Patrick toward the stairs near the back that lead up to their apartment. He's locking things and turning off lights as he goes with absolutely no indication that Derek is interrupting anything.

David might not be all that flexible, but he can make exceptions every now and then.

"Up," he says. "Go upstairs. I'll finish up down here and be up in a second and then we can order a lot of food."

Werewolves eat a lot, he figures, and he eats a lot, so between him and Derek, they'll need more than usual. Or he'll use that as an excuse to get more than usual anyway.

"Come on," Patrick encourages, giving David a warm nod as he squeezes Derek's arm, all of a sudden reminded that he definitely is not going to the gym enough because some people around here are just ridiculously jacked and he'll never compare to that.

He digs out his keys and starts ascending the stairs, taking them slowly as he considers Derek, not sure what he wants to talk about first, but he thinks he can start with the easy stuff. "Do you want a beer?" he offers, thinking it'll be a lot easier to talk about a few shitty days if there's alcohol involved. "I know it's always a happier evening when there's a beer and dinner and good friends," he says warmly, opening the fridge to grab a few bottles.

They both start ushering him around like he isn't getting in their way, and Derek's shoulders relax the slightest bit when Patrick touches him. Shooting David a grateful smile, he follows Patrick up the stairs to their apartment. He's never been up here before, and the smell of it kind of rocks Derek on his heels.

It's the scent of the two of them all wrapped up together with happiness, sex, and family, and Derek just sort of lets it wash over him as he follows Patrick over toward the kitchen. It's peaceful like chamomile tea, even if they aren't his emotions to feel. Derek wants to tell them how good they smell together, how complimentary, but he knows how creepy that would sound to someone who doesn't experience scent the way he does so he keeps it to himself.

"Maybe just one," he says as he reaches out to accept the bottle from Patrick, smiling softly at his words. They're just good people, the both of them, and Derek is glad he came here tonight. "Shouldn't waste it on me, anyway. It doesn't have any affect on me."

Edited 2020-06-11 07:50 (UTC)

Patrick glances up, absolutely full of sympathy. "Really? What do you do when you need to drown yourself in something that lets you forget how awkward you are?" he wonders, and presses the beer into his palm anyway, because it doesn't matter if it won't hit him, he still deserves it.

He settles at the table after grabbing some napkins, keeping an eye on the door for David.

"I'll wait for David, but if you do want to talk about it, we can. And if not, David is an expert at talking about the subjects he's passionate about."

“What I did tonight,” he replies with a shrug. “I have a special werewolf cocktail. It has something that kind of mimics the effects for awhile. I only break it out every so often.”

Probably because it’s literal poison, and if he drinks too much wolfsbane he’ll hallucinate, which is never fun. He keeps that part to himself and takes a sip of beer as he sits across from Patrick at the table.

“I’m not much of a talker,” Derek says with an amused huff, smiling ruefully as he picks at the edge of the label on the bottle. It isn’t even as if anything specific happened. Sure, there was the drama with Neil and also it’s his dead sister’s birthday in a few days, but he’s handled all of that before. Trauma just has a way of sneaking up and kicking you in the ass every so often. “I’m alright, though. Just— kind of in a funk, I guess.”

A funk that’s lasted for fifteen years. Derek clears his throat and turns his head when he hears the sound of David’s boot hitting a hollow stair, and then points towards the door. “He’s on his way.”

Patrick doesn't know Derek well enough to really know just how inebriated he is, but he'd been guessing that it's just liquor that he's using, so it's a bit strange to imagine a special werewolf cocktail. If it gets the job done, though, what can he argue?

He watches Derek cautiously, keeping an ear out for David (though he doesn't hear him) and gives him a sympathetic smile.

"Good hearing, huh? That a werewolf thing or just a really good ears thing?" He doesn't say that it would be in combination with Derek's really good everything else, but it's in his mind.

Edited 2020-06-11 17:43 (UTC)

Patrick is giving him a bit of a wary look, but he supposes it shouldn’t be unexpected. Special werewolf cocktail isn’t really a normal thing to say. The wolfsbane is all but burned out of his system by now, leaving him just sort of tired and looser than he was before he drank it.

“Werewolf thing,” he says, because it’s easier to talk about what he can do than what he’s feeling. “David dropped something a few minutes ago. Cursed to himself.” He smirks and then points toward the window. “Car two blocks over has a bad muffler.”

He shrugs and takes another sip of his beer. “Kind of a pain sometimes. Hearing and smelling everything. But I’ve gotten used to it. Kind of comes with the territory.”

Smirking at Patrick, he points his finger at the door and bounces it in time with David’s steps, pausing when he comes through it. He lets his head tip back to look at David. “What’d you drop?”

"Remember how you were sweet earlier?" David asks. "Now you're weird. And it was a plunger. I was trying to hide them from Patrick so he stops putting them near the front of the store, thanks for outing me, though."

He takes one of the beer bottles for himself, even though he'd really rather have a cocktail, then takes a long sip.

"Okay, so what'd I miss?" he asks. "Anything juicy? I feel like I missed something juicy and that will not stand in my house." He glances at Patrick. "Our house."

Patrick ducks his head down, laughing before he lifts his head to serve David up a guileless smile. "It's not my fault that people buy the things they can see with their eyes, regardless of whether they fit the aesthetic," he teases, and settles in, handing David the phone.

He says nothing about the 'my' versus 'our' issue, sipping his beer and bringing up one of the food delivery services.

"We're just hanging out," he says casually, not wanting to make Derek talk about anything he doesn't want to.

"Ah, weird. That's more like it," Derek says with an amused huff. David doesn't actually seem upset with him, which is good, so Derek gives him an amused look as he sits down and opens his beer.

"Patrick was trying to get me to talk about my feelings," he offers as he pulls off his leather jacket and lays it over the back of the chair. David seems to be putting together an order, so Derek takes out his wallet and tosses a few twenties on the table to help cover the massive amount of food they'll need. "Might as well sell out the both of you."

"Ew," David answers, looking from Patrick to Derek, then back again, as if to ask why Patrick would make him do something as awful as talk about his feelings. Then he goes back to the task at hand, making sure to order lots and lots of food, even as he pointedly ignores the money Derek has tossed onto the table. They'll deal with that later, probably by tucking the money back into his wallet somehow.

Although maybe that won't be quite as easy with a werewolf. Maybe they'll just have to take the money.

"Wait, are you having a lot of feelings you need to talk about?" he asks. "Because... I mean, I know I said ew, but not like, ew, feelings, more ew, why would you make him do that if he doesn't want to. So you can if you want. Just... okay, I'm going to order the food now."

Patrick ducks his head down, endlessly charmed by David's reaction to talking about his feelings, because he knows that he's capable, even if he finds them so awful from time to time. "I'm not gonna force you," is his easy promise, hand over his heart.

"I don't really love talking about mine either," Patrick admits. "Easier to have a tangible problem that I can fix with action, but sometimes, getting the words out there can help take the burden off your back," he admits. "We can also eat away the issues."

"This definitely isn't a tangible problem," Derek says, still chuckling softly at David's antics. Usually he would cut it off there, but something compels him to keep talking. Maybe it's the wolfsbane. Maybe it's because he trusts them.

"My sister's birthday is coming up," he finds himself saying, because that is one concrete thing he can pick out of the mess in his head. "She was killed before I came here."

He winces once the words are out, because he can just feel the way he's ruined the mood. After taking another sip of his beer, he sets it on the table and sits up a little straighter. "She would be all in favor of eating vast quantities of ribs in her honor, though. So, I guess I'm in the right place."

David has absolutely no idea how to respond to that. He's been through some things in his life, he's definitely had his share of awfulness, but he's never been through anything remotely like what Derek is talking about.

There were times he thought he might lose Alexis, mostly because she was off somewhere doing something incredibly stupid, but he's not sure what he would have done if something bad had actually happened to her.

"Holy shit," he says, pausing in his ordering. "Oh my god, we need so many ribs in that case." It sounds so stupid, but it's the only thing he can think to say.

Patrick knows that nothing he's experienced could compare with that. He gives Derek a sympathetic look, reaching out to squeeze David's hand to encourage him to order all the ribs they possibly can, wishing more than ever that he had something that would help Derek get drunk.

He doesn't, though, and he'll have to live with that.

"Well, if you want to talk about it or don't, that's what we're here for. I'm sure if you want us to change the subject, David has at least ten commentaries in the back of his mind he could share."

Derek's nose wrinkles a bit at the looks they give him, and then he lets his gaze linger on where Patrick's hand rests on top of David's. His own hand curls tightly around his beer bottle, and he has to be careful not to crack it.

They feel for him, and for a moment Derek almost wants to tell them everything, about how a few years before Laura the two of them lost everyone, all at once, and how sometimes he feels like he's just made up of loss and hollow parts. But he doesn't, because they don't deserve that burden and there is nothing to be done about it anyway. This is Derek Hale's life: too depressing for human consumption.

"So many ribs was the correct answer," he says after a moment, doing his best to sound jovial as he tips his beer bottle toward David. "And cornbread."

"Uh huh," David says, scrolling through his phone on the delivery app, adding corn bread and more ribs and a lot of french fries, too, as well as mashed potatoes and the gravy he likes so much.

"But, um... you can," he adds. "Tell us stuff. I'm very non-judgmental. I mean... okay, I'm sort of judgmental, but only about things like fashion and food and the general aesthetic of a person."

He wouldn't judge Derek for talking about his sister or how he feels.

Patrick hides a smile behind his palm at David really straining to put himself out there and support Derek. He knows it doesn't come so easy to him, which only makes him love David all the more for it. "You just have opinions," he insists, when David talks about being judgmental.

He gives him a warm smile, even if there's a teasing edge in his voice, "And as you've told me, the correct opinions, about everything, even."

Derek watches the two of them interact and can’t help but to feel as if he is a little in the way. Patrick’s tone is warm and flirty and Derek feels a petty stab of jealousy that makes him ache, somewhere deep down inside all those hollow parts. It’s not a jealousy of either one of them specifically, but of what they have. He’s always wanted something like what they have, and he almost had it.

But now he’s sure that he never will. It just wasn’t meant for someone like him.

He wants to get up and make excuses to leave, not wanting to bring the mood down any further, but it feels like it would be rude to do so now that the food has been ordered. Derek didn’t used to care about being rude. He wishes he didn’t now.

“I must have passed all three criteria,” he says after a moment, staring intently at his beer bottle as he picks at the label.

David shoots Patrick a look that he's pretty sure clearly says now is not the time to be flirting, Patrick! because Derek has just told them it's the anniversary of his sister's death and David knows there's a lot of other stuff he's been dealing with. He had been engaged, after all, and now his fiance isn't here anymore.

It's true David Rose isn't the most perceptive person in the world, but he's at least very clear on this.

"Obviously," he says when Derek says he's passed all the criteria. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You're a hot werewolf who cooks really delicious food. I mean, the whole henley and jeans thing would never work on me, but it's absolutely your ideal aesthetic. Right?" he asks, looking to Patrick. Is this how comforting someone works? He has no idea.

Patrick gives a slightly sheepish smile. He knows he's been a little excitable since David's memories came back, but it's an easy enough fix. He takes his hand off of David, or near him, and angles his body more to Derek, both forearms on the table.

"He's right," he points out. "I'm pretty sure if this place had an eligible bachelor night, you'd win." He offers an easy smile, making sure he strips it of sympathy. "You're also a really good guy, who cares a lot, and that shows. I'm sorry about what happened to your sister."

"Don't forget the leather jacket," Derek says flatly. "It's a very important part of the aesthetic."

They both face him, both of them giving him their attention, and Derek can't help but to feel flattered and awkward all at the same time. He lets out a huff of laughter at Patrick's words and shakes his head in fond amusement.

"Nah, the overall deduction for emotional baggage would ruin my chances," he quips, but he does smile softly over at Patrick. It feels kind of-- good, actually, to talk about her. "Thanks. But really, we can talk about something else."