triskehale | closed; thomas

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closed,
thomas

closed; thomas

Truthfully, Derek doesn't how good of an idea it is to spend so much time with Thomas. It seems like sort of a dangerous, painful road to go down, but then again, Derek isn't known for his fantastic decision making skills.

Thomas is so different that Stiles in so many ways, and Derek likes him for the person that he is dependent of what he looks like, but sometimes Derek looks at him and forgets that he can't reach out and touch him, pull him in. It's confusing, and painful, but Derek pushes past it. Thomas deserves better than to be brushed aside because he looks like the person that Derek was in love with, and he can handle it.

Derek gets up early on Friday morning and puts on running pants and a white tank, and then feeds his cat before pulling on his sneakers. He grabs two protein bars and two bottles of water, throwing them in a plastic bag before heading out the door. He makes it to the Bramford building in no time flat, not even working up a sweat. Once inside, he takes the stairs and then lets out a breath before stepping up to Thomas' door and knocking on it.

This will be fine. Totally, completely fine.

Probably.

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"Okay," Derek agrees, even though part of him wants to push. Thomas meets his eyes and he looks so scared that Derek lets his hand slide up to curl around the back of his neck. He starts to draw him forward to-- who knows what, hug him maybe, but then he stops and pulls his hand away, swallowing hard. Sometimes those big amber eyes of Thomas' draw him in, and make him feel things that he shouldn't, not anymore.

"I want to help if I can," he says after a moment, holding his hands down at his sides. "And I'm trusting you with my secret, so I hope you know that you could trust me with yours."

Derek's hand was warm against the back of his neck, making his already hot skin feel hotter. When he felt Derek drawing him forward, he didn't know exactly what was happening but he didn't resist. Touching as a means to comfort was a foreign concept for him. Comfort back in the Maze was mostly an arm pressed against his and mostly given by Teresa.

Teresa was long gone, though. The only thing left of her were the memories Thomas had locked away behind a dark door in his mind.

When Derek dropped his arm, Thomas looked up at him, a question in his eyes. But, it slipped away and Thomas looked down at the ground. He dug his shoe into the sand, watched it disappear. "I'll keep your secret," he promised, bringing his eyes back up to Derek's. He watched Derek's face intently. "And I'll tell you mine. Just -- just not now."

Talking about the Flare would make the whole thing even more real than it already was. It'd label Thomas a patient, a victim, and he needed time to deal with and accept that.

Edited 2015-08-06 00:48 (UTC)

When Thomas looks up at him with this slight confusion in his eyes, Derek sort of feels like an ass. He reaches out and throws an arm around Thomas' shoulders, pulling him in and nodding. "Alright. Whenever you're ready, I'm here."

He gives Thomas another comforting squeeze and then lets him go, looking around before squinting out at the ocean. The moment hangs tense and heavy in the air, and Derek lets out a breath before jerking his chin towards the waves. "Water's calm. Do you want to take a quick dip before we head back?"

Thomas didn't resist when Derek pulled him in. He'd been surprised, caught off guard by the first actual hug he could really remember. It's different than he'd imagined, firmer yet gentle all at once. Derek's all hard edges and strong lines but there's a softness underneath all that and Thomas leaned against him gratefully. He looped his own arms around Derek, hanging onto him during their brief embrace.

When Derek let him go, he stepped back and carded his hands through his hair. The sweat had long since dried and the adrenaline that had been coursing this his veins was gone, leaving him boneless and weary.

"Yeah," he answered, looking from Derek to the ocean. "Yeah, let's go for a swim. I think I could use it."

His secret loomed large above the both of them, hanging their like a guillotine that was going to come down at any moment. Swimming wouldn't make it go away but maybe they could both forget it for awhile.

Derek loses himself in the hug, just a little, holding onto Thomas while taking in his scent. He smells earthy and warm, and Derek finds comfort in it as he wraps his arm more securely around Thomas' shoulders for a moment.

They're both touch starved, eager for any genuine affection, and part of Derek is sure that they could lose some time in this, so he manages to pull away. He claps his hand on Thomas' shoulder and then turns to kick off his running pants, leaving him in a pair of black boxer briefs as he heads for the surf. "Come on, then."

Thomas had more clothing to slide off so he, once again, fell behind. He peeled off his shirt, dropping it down into the sand beside him. Shoes and socks came next, joining his shirt in the sand. After a moment's hesitation (born out of nerves more than anything else), he pushed his pants down his hips and kicked them aside.

His boxers were a pale blue, bought cheap at a local store down the street from his apartment. He'd gone for comfort and simplicity over anything else. Plus, some of the designs (why were bleeding hearts on underwear?) were just too much for him.

Thomas jogged towards the water line, stopping as the cool water sloshed over his feet. Goosebumps rose on his arms and legs and he clicked his teeth together. He waded in deeper, splashing some water on his arms and shoulders despite the initial chill.

"I like this," he murmured, quiet but loud enough for Derek to hear. "Could have used this back where I came from. Would have made traveling a lot easier if there was a convenient water source nearby. Something to cool off because it was incredibly hot all the time."

Derek wades out into the water and feels the chill overtake him, and then turns around to watch Thomas approach. He tries very hard not to look at him too closely, but he can't help it. He looks even less like Stiles like this. He's tanner and leaner, muscles a little more defined.

He swallows hard and looks away for a moment, the tips of his ears pink, and then looks over again when Thomas speaks to him. "Dunk your head under. It'll help with the cold."

Derek sinks under the water and at first the cold shocks him, but then it evens out and he resurfaces with a smile, lifting his arms to push his hair back away from his face.

Derek's appraisal was as obvious as Thomas's earlier lie. He wasn't an oblivious guy but even if he had been, the look he was getting from Derek would have been hard to miss. Without really meaning to, Thomas found himself watching Derek look him over. He felt himself flush and started to say something when Derek looked away.

Derek's words help to push his thoughts down for the moment because he really was chilly despite the flush that had spread across his neck and cheeks. After Derek went down and surfaced, Thomas followed suit. He lowered himself underneath the water, eyes closed, and stayed there for several long seconds.

The feeling of being completely surrounded by water amazed him. It nearly took his breath away and he had to push up and out before he started panicking because he couldn't breathe. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Thomas blinked water away and sputtered a bit.

"Better," he said once the chill had settled and he didn't have water streaming into his eyes. "Is swimming always like this? It's very...it's kinda overwhelming. In a good way, though. Good way."

It was all encompassing and all around him, making him feel weightless and light. Unburdened.

Derek knows that he's been caught out, but the interesting part is that Thomas doesn't look away. He doesn't seem uncomfortable with the attention and part of that is intriguing, but that doesn't necessarily mean that Derek should be giving it to him. This is all so confusing.

He waits for Thomas to resurface and then laughs, moving a bit so Thomas is between him and the shore. "I just realized that you probably don't have any idea how to actually swim. And yeah, it's nice."

Derek's toes scrape along the sandy bottom and he puts his arms out for balance as the water laps at his collar bones. "Next time we can go to the swimming hole I told you about. The water there is calmer and warmer. And it isn't salty."

"I don't know how to swim," Thomas confirmed, watching in fascination as his arm moved back and forth across the surface of the water. "As far as I can remember, this is the first time I've ever been swimming. Unless a shower counts as swimming."

Thomas was pretty sure it didn't. And if it did, it was a pretty sad version of swimming. "I don't even know if oceans still exist where I come from. I didn't see any while I was there. Wouldn't be surprised if they all dried up."

The solar flares had destroyed so much that Thomas wouldn't be surprised if the oceans had been completely depleted by the scorching heat and the masses of Cranks that now roamed the world.

Edited 2015-08-06 23:57 (UTC)

"A shower counts as getting wet, not as swimming," Derek says with a laugh, watching as Thomas moves around in the water. "I'll teach you how at the swimming hole. It'll be easier there. I do a mean doggy paddle."

He winks teasingly, but his expression grows more concerned as Thomas speaks. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he can't help but to ask. "What happened to the world where you're from?"

Thomas waded around for a few moments, letting the only sound be that of his arms hitting the water and the waves crashing down around them. He splashed some water on his face before looking over at Derek again.

"Solar flares," he shared, sneaking a glance up the sky as he said it. "Destroyed most of the world. Killed a lot of people and made the sun unstable. You can barely go outside uncovered without getting seriously burned."

Derek winces and looks up at the sun, squinting against the glare before looking at Thomas again. He's a little out of focus for half a second, but then his vision readjusts. Derek can't help but to drift closer to him, reaching out to press a fingertip to the top of Thomas' shoulder where it's barely peeking out of the water.

"You may get a little pink here, but you're not going to burn up," Derek tells him, and then gives him a knowing, almost shy smile. "I've always been more of a fan of the moon anyway."

"I wonder why," Thomas said, kind of amazed at his own ability to tease Derek about that. If there was one thing he could thank WICKED for, it was giving him the ability to adapt and adjust quickly. Back in the Scorch, you couldn't stand around and cry at each new horrible thing you saw. There was just no time.

"I got burned a few times back there," he sighed, dipping lower into the ocean and letting the water cool his warm shoulders. He stood back up after a moment. "We had to travel at night and sleep during the day. Safest way to do it."

Safe being a very relative term there.

"Haven't the faintest," Derek replies, feeling pleased that Thomas has taken this so well, and doesn't seem to be afraid of him. Thomas says that he was burned and Derek instinctively looks him over for evidence, but he can't see much because of the water. He drifts closer and their shoulders brush, knees knocking under the water. "Are you still feeling a little nocturnal?"

It's strange to be this close to someone and have it not be an aggressive, violent encounter. Proximity was for grabbing someone and running, for fending off a Crank's blows, or holding someone down as they went through the Changing.

This sort of closeness wasn't anything like that. There was no aggression, no imminent danger and Thomas didn't know if he'd ever get used to that. When his knees bumped against Derek,'s Thomas looked up at him.

"Mostly, yeah," he said, nodding. "I'm just really used to sleeping during the day. If I'm exhausted, I can sleep at night but I prefer to be outside at night. It's familiar. It's quiet. Even if I know this sun isn't gonna burn me, going out at night makes sure of that."

"I know what you mean," Derek tells him, looking over and realizing how close they actually are. It feels intimate because of the water and Derek swallows hard. "I'm fine during the day, but I feel better under the moon."

Derek looks at Thomas for a moment and then pushes back, taking a deep breath and letting himself fall back into the water and float up to the surface, arms spreading out wide as he looks up at the clear blue sky. "I don't really sleep all that much."

He hasn't really slept well since the fire. Over the years he's gotten used to it. He'll catch cat naps when he can, sleep deeply when exhaustion sets in. He'll spend lazy mornings dozing in bed when he can, but sleep has always seemed like such a luxury. Or a risk he couldn't afford to take.

Cool air whooshed around Thomas after Derek had pushed away from him and floated away from him. He shivered and swallowed, wondering if that chill was a product of a breeze or just the sudden loss of Derek's body heat.

For a few moments, Thomas is quiet. He's not sure just how enhanced Derek's abilities are so he's not sure if Derek's going to be able to sense Thomas watching him. With the way he's floating, Thomas can see the well defined muscles stretching from stomach up his torso and extending down his arms. There's power there, Thomas knew, but a hidden gentleness as well. He'd experienced it that first night he'd fallen asleep against Derek and when he'd knocked his boots against Derek's at the movie.

He was staring and he knew it. Thomas pulled his eyes away and started speaking just in case he was about to get caught out on all the watching he'd just been doing. "I don't either. Sometimes, I can get some memories back if I'm lucky. I can dream things that really happened. It doesn't happen often though. I've gotten maybe one or two things but that's really why I sleep. In the hopes that I'll get something back."

Derek can feel Thomas watching him, and he keeps his gaze fixed resolutely at a single fluffy cloud in the sky. He tries not to flex his muscles, or to preen, or anything he might do with anyone else, but he feels his breath catch in his throat as he moves his fingers along the water's surface. He looks over just in time to see Thomas look away, and what he says makes Derek's chest constrict in sympathy.

"That has to be hard," Derek tells him, letting his feet sink back down to the sand as he watches Thomas. "But you're handling it well. Because that's what we do, right? We handle it."

"Yeah, we handle it."

Some days were easier than others. Today, for instance, Thomas felt hopeful. He felt that the Flare wouldn't ever eat his brain enough that he'd turn into an animalistic Crank. He felt like he'd get back to his friends, lead them to the Safe Haven, and they'd all be cured and free of WICKED. Today was a good day.

They weren't all like that though.

"Hopefully no one sees me on the days I'm not handling it," Thomas said, reaching down and scooping up a handful of water. It sloshed back and forth against his palms, spilling out over his cupped hands before he splashed the water on his face. "It happens more often than I'd like."

"Well hey," Derek says with a dry laugh, shrugging his shoulders helplessly and flicking some water at Thomas. "Awhile back, I had a whole month or two straight of days I couldn't handle it, and I spent most of them on four paws. So at least I have that."

He doesn't tell Thomas why, that it was because Stiles dumped him and he just couldn't stand being so close
to his scent and his heartbeat, that it was driving him crazy. Then Stiles came and asked Derek to take him back, and he had a few good weeks before he disappeared. Then his heartbeat and his scent, they were gone.

"It's okay to have those days," Derek assures him, standing up a little straighter so that his shoulders are out of the water. "Just don't let them own you."

Thomas nodded, eyes on the rippling water instead of on Derek. Before the Scorch, not handling it had meant Thomas had actually made himself sleep. It'd been a temporary balm to his problems but it'd been the only way he'd had to escape it all. In the Maze, he could run to the Deadheads, hide out there until Chuck or Newt or Minho came and found him. After their staged rescue, he'd tried to sleep everything away.

Here, it was easy to be alone, to retreat inside the private apartment they'd give him and stalk around each room like a caged animal. When the apartment got to be too small, he could run. He could run until his lungs burned and sweat burned his eyes.

Thomas looked up at Derek and nodded. He didn't know if he could necessarily do what Derek was asking but he didn't want to admit that out, not out loud. He had to handle everything, had to keep it together.

"Easier said than done but yeah," he breathed, squinting up at the sun, testing it, making sure it wouldn't burn and scar him. All it did was make his vision wobble for a second or two. With black spots dotting his vision, Thomas flicked some water back Derek's way. "I think I'll take a pass on the all fours thing, though. I don't need a backache to go along with all my other problems."

That startles a laugh out of Derek and he dunks under the water to wet his hair again, resurfacing and reaching up to push it back away from his forehead. He swims a lazy circle around Thomas and then grabs his wrist, leading him back to the shore. "We can't spend all day in here."

Derek walks up onto the beach and then sits at the edge of the wet sand, tipping his head back and letting the sun warm his skin, drying up the water. He looks up at Thomas with a small smile, unable to help the way his gaze sweeps over his body, and the tips of his ears turn pink. "Besides, I promised you a real breakfast."

More and more, Thomas was beginning to notice how Derek looked at him, how he reacted and Thomas couldn't help but notice if he was seeing someone else's face when he looked. Someone since departed, leaving behind only memories and emotional scars.

"What's a real breakfast anyway?" Thomas asked, shoving those thoughts aside for the moment. The water was already cooling on his skin, sand sticking to his wet ankles as they walked out of the water and back onto the shore. "Did Frypan screw us all out of a real breakfast back in the Glade?"

It's hard to look at Thomas and not see Stiles, at least a little. Derek knows that it isn't fair to Thomas and he does feel guilty about it, but deep down he knows that it isn't the only reason he looks.

"Probably," Derek says with a laugh, pulling himself to his feet and going back over to the big, flat rock where he left his clothes. It's big enough for them both to lay on it, and nice and warm from the sun beating down onto it. Derek gracefully hops the few feet up onto it and turns to hold out his hand to help Thomas up. "I'm talking the full breakfast works, here. Pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon. Coffee and orange juice. Hashbrowns. All of it."

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