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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"Well." Derek laughs at that, feeling relaxed, and looks pointedly down at his hairy chest and arms. "I'm not exactly hairless, but I'll do my best not to get any hair in your food. Or fur."

They lay there in comfortable silence for awhile, drying off until the salt feels tacky on his skin. Really, they should have gone to the watering hole. Next time, he thinks pleasantly. Because he's pretty sure there will be a next time. Thomas seems outdoorsy in a way that most of his friends aren't, aside from Luke. As comfortable as it is to spend time with another wolf, there's something great about showing his world to a human who is willing to try and see it through a wolf's eyes. Thomas seems understanding, and unafraid, and part of Derek settles at that. He can be completely himself around Thomas, if he chose.

Derek stretches out a little and feels his fingers brush along Thomas' wrist. Without thinking, he curls his fingers around Thomas' for a moment, pressing the pads of his fingers to Thomas' pulse just to feel it, and then he lets go and lets out a pleased sigh. He isn't eager to leave, so he just stays stretched out on the rock, soaking in the sunshine with a small smile on his face.

Derek's hair just seemed to be different than Frypan's. Frypan was the King of Unruly Hair with follicles sticking out from places Thomas didn't even think hair could grow. Thomas much preferred how Derek looked, smelled, and well, Derek was just all around better. He missed Frypan, sure, but they'd never really been that close.

The longer they lay there, the drowsier Thomas felt. The sun had always seemed to have that effect on him, pushing him down and tucking a blanket around him like a cocoon. Eyes closed, he felt like maybe he was floating up towards the sky. His body felt light, free of the scars both visible and not.

The touch on his wrist didn't startle him. The fingers were warm and searching and Thomas wondered if he could just take Derek with him when he floated away. When the touch disappeared, Thomas allowed a sleepily smile to cross his features.

His wrist still felt warm. He still felt warm.

Derek sort of loses track of time as they lay there dozing in the sun, arms occasionally brushing. After awhile he remembers that while his healing abilities will never allow his skin to do more than turn a golden brown, the same can't be said for Thomas. Derek drags himself into a sitting position and looks over, expecting to see lots of pink skin, but he's pleasantly surprised.

Thomas' skin is tan and warm looking, obviously less vulnerable to the sun's rays than Derek expected. He finds himself letting his gaze sweep over Thomas' body, lingering at the cut of his hips, and then he realizes what he's doing and swallows hard, jerking his head forward. If his cheeks and ears are pink, he'll blame it on sunburn that hasn't quite had a chance to heal.

"Come on, lazy ass," Derek teases, patting Thomas' thigh with the back of his hand. "If we stay out here much longer, we're going to bake. Or starve to death."

Thomas felt like he was covered in molasses. Everything seemed slow. The movement of his limbs, the clouds passing overhead, Derek's words. He blinked and time seemed to speed up again. The molasses was gone replaced by a warm fuzziness that fogged up his head.

"Wouldn't want that," Thomas said, pushing himself up and swiping his forearm across his face. He kept expecting his arm to come away covered in dirt or blood but it didn't. It hadn't for several weeks now. "Been way too close to doing both already. Wouldn't recommend it."

He'd probably take the burning over the starving, if he had to choose. Starving to death was like a creeping thing, something that wrapped its bony death claws around you one day and squeezed a week later. It took time. It hurt.

Stretching, Thomas looked over at Derek, taking in the pink on his ears and cheeks. His answer to that was a smile, small and brief, but genuine. Pleased. "Lead the way."

Derek notices Thomas watching him, smiling in this private way that Derek can't help but to return. He stretches and gathers his clothes, putting on his pants and then wiping the sand off of his feet before putting on his socks and shoes. His shirt gets tucked into the waistband of his pants, because he likes the feeling of the sun on his skin too much.

Thomas' back is to him and Derek studies the pattern of moles there before taking a step forward and sliding his hand across it, brushing the sand away. He swallows hard, letting his hand glide down the length of Thomas' spine before it falls away.

Thomas shivered.

Quicksilver pleasure spread out, sensation arcing down his back and across his hips until Thomas wondered if the entirety of torso was covered in goosebumps. It was just because of the sand. It was the sand and Derek was just being nice.

But, maybe he wondered if Derek's hand had lingered too long for that too be true. Maybe he wanted to ask that but didn't. It seemed like a boundary right now, being too blunt about things like that so Thomas kept on his side of the line. Stayed there where he could enjoy the touch while overthinking them.

He snuck a quick glance back at Derek, expression open and earnest, before wiggling into his clothes. Pants, shirt, socks, shoes and then a hand carded through his sandy hair.

"Think I'm ready," he said after clearing his throat and turning around.

Derek would have been able to tell that Thomas enjoyed the touch even without his heightened senses, but the quick uptick of his heart really cemented it. Thomas was pleased by Derek's hand on his skin, in some way or another, and that was hard to ignore. It made him want to press in closer, to do it again, just to keep that look on his face. To keep that shiver running through him.

But instead he just stands there, feeling a little at war with himself as Thomas dresses. It's an entirely confusing situation, and Derek is having trouble untangling all that he's feeling.

He's staring down at the sand until Thomas clears his throat, and then he looks up with a nod. His cheeks are no longer pink, and he knocks a few grains of sand away from his beard before they head back towards the trail. Derek feels all lazy and warm still, not quite up to running, so he just walks along at a leisurely pace and looks over at Thomas with a small smile. "Did you have fun?"

Thomas didn't think he could run anymore even if he'd tried. The swimming, the time in the sun, had left him feeling boneless, like his legs were jelly holding up a body made of air.

He stared down at his feet, watching the new sneakers get scuffed up with dirt and bits of plant that had fallen into the trail. They weren't boots but they'd done pretty well today. He didn't know if they'd survive the Scorch but he wanted to take them back anyway. He could give them to someone else, a Flare infected refugee, in exchange for information or something.

"Yeah," Thomas answered, tearing his attention away from his shoes and focusing it back on Derek. "Yeah, I did. Even though you had to cheat to win."

That was a joke. Thomas had known before Derek had shown up at his door that he'd be on the losing end of a race. Before Thomas knew about Derek's abilities, he'd known that beating Derek in a race was an extreme long shot. "I'll forgive you for that. I'll win next time."

Maybe if Derek let him. Next time.

"It's not cheating if I use my natural talents," Derek says airily, but he gives Thomas a sharp grin. "But I appreciate your forgiveness."

And then Thomas mentions a next time, and Derek feels pleased at that. This is something that he can see them doing, running around the woods together. Exploring. He's suddenly excited for Thomas to see snow, even though that's months away.

His mood diminishes just a little when he remembers just how much that Thomas doesn't want to be here, and that Derek is at best the balm on an open wound, but that's okay. Most of the people in this city don't want to be here. He was in a relationship with someone who never stopped looking for a way out, even when Derek was sitting right next to him. It's just the way that things are.

They walk quietly along the path that Derek has created in his two years here, just from all the running around that he does. The morning dew along with the coolness it brought has all burned away, and Derek is grateful for the shade of the trees. It's a warm day, and the air feels syrupy and thick, but not oppressively so.

Thomas did want to leave, he couldn't deny that. The reasons had so little to do with Darrow itself and so much to do with what he'd left behind, with the guilt that he couldn't seem to forget no matter how hard he tried. It was the Flare, running loose in his head, while the cure sat somewhere beyond the Scorch, waiting for him. For them.

Darrow was infinitely better than the barren world he'd left. He wanted to want to stay. He wanted to take a deep breath in the morning and know that it wouldn't be the last thing he ever did. He wanted so much.

"Next time, I'll tell you a secret," Thomas promised, making that choice right now. Someone needed to know and there wasn't anyone that came close to Derek in Thomas's mind. He'd tell him. He'd tell Derek and he'd prepare himself for any reaction that might happen. "Win or lose. I promise."

"Okay," Derek tells him, and he doesn't ask if he's sure. It's something that Thomas obviously wants to get off of his chest, even if he's nervous about it, so Derek will be there when he's ready to tell. Thomas accepted him being a werewolf so readily, and touched him without fear or disgust, so Derek can't imagine that there is anything he'd react too badly to. "Whenever you want to race again, let me know. If I'm in a good mood, I might even let you win."

He bumps their shoulders together with a small smile as they walk, and Derek can't help but to remember what it was like to feel Thomas' fingers working through his fur. His wolf so rarely gets affection, no matter how desperately they both crave it, so it's hard not to want it again. "Maybe you'll run a little faster if there's an actual wolf nipping at your heels."

"Hey, I might," Thomas said, laughing quietly. "I ran pretty damn fast when we were being chased by Grievers and trust me, you've got nothing on them."

Derek was his own kind of predator. He was quick where Grievers were slow, controlled where Grievers would run over anything in their path. Grievers were nightmare material. Derek was not.

"And if you catch me, you're not gonna roll over me and pretty much swallow me up," Thomas said, shivering at the thought. He'd let a Griever stab him intentionally and that had been enough. Too much. He couldn't even imagine what it was like to see lightness change to dark as you were sucked into the blubbery flesh of a Griever. Thomas could imagine a lot of terrible deaths and that topped the list.

Thomas' words, as innocently as he no doubt meant them, make Derek's mind go to an entirely different place. Rapid fire quick, he imagines doing just that-- chasing Thomas down and rolling him over, swallowing him whole. The wolf in him shivers pleasantly at the image and Derek's breath catches in his throat, making him cough a little as his cheeks go pink.

He's embarrassed by the thought, and a little ashamed, but he can't exactly help where his mind goes. Derek's libido has been recently re-awoken as of late, and his thoughts are definitely going dirtier a lot quicker.

Derek clears his throat and shakes it away, smiling as he reaches out to grip the back of Thomas' neck. "I'll do my best not to eat you up."

The cough caught his attention and that, combined with the sudden flush on Derek's face, made Thomas wonder what had caused it. Derek's opened up to him about a lot in a short amount of time but Thomas knew there was still a lot to him, undiscovered and kept behind a locked door. So, maybe the reaction had been something that Derek had been thinking about or maybe it was something Thomas had said.

He wanted to ask but then Derek's hand was on the back of his neck and asking turned into snickering and shaking his head at Derek's comment. "That'd be appreciated."

He started to say something about how he tasted and thought better of it. Even someone as dense as Thomas when it came to innuendo knew that would evoke some interesting images. Instead, he said, "I think I'd be more fun and a little more interesting if I wasn't kicking around in someone's stomach. I'd rather not be dinner. Or breakfast. Or lunch. Or a snack. Maybe next week I'll change my mind."

"Nothing is going to eat you," Derek assures him, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation. His hand is still on the back of Thomas' neck, squeezing gently, and Derek's eyes fall to a bead of sweat rolling down the line of his throat. For a moment, he wonders what it might taste like against his tongue.

He blinks and steps away, letting his hand fall away from Thomas' neck. His scent is nearly overwhelming, amplified as it is by the heat, and Derek takes a breath through his mouth.

"But I am starving," Derek says after a moment, voice pitched low as he looks at Thomas. "So we should keep moving."

Something about that tone of voice made Thomas swallow thickly and forget his words momentarily. He didn't know, couldn't explain it if asked, but it'd happened and he didn't hide it. Thomas licked his lips and nodded.

"We should, yeah," he said, blowing out a breath and stretching languidly, like that was the reason for his speechlessness and exhale. "All that running made me hungry. Need to refuel."

Derek's nostrils flare a little as Thomas' scent suddenly goes a little spicy. He's staring at Derek, swallowing hard and licking his lips, and the slightest hint of arousal creeps into his warm, already appealing scent.

In a way, it's comforting to know that he isn't alone in all of this. It's still awkward, obviously, but at least it's mutual. He smiles a little and doesn't point it out, not wanting to embarrass him. But then Thomas stretches, displaying all that long, lean muscle, and Derek wonders if it's on purpose.

He decides that no, it most likely isn't. Thomas doesn't seem the type to play games, and he doesn't think Thomas would do that to him. He seems good, like someone Derek can trust, and he likes that. He needs that.

"I know just the place," Derek assures him, smiling warmly and leading Thomas confidently through the forest. The park is a few hundred feet ahead, and Derek can hear children playing, their delighted shrieks carrying back to his sensitive ears. "Have you had a waffle yet? You'll love it."

The only game Thomas was good at was running through a maze like a mouse chasing its cheese except the cheese was constantly somewhere different and there were huge monsters hiding behind all corners.

It made it hard for the mouse to get the cheese. It also showed how absolutely stubborn the mouse could be since no matter how much the maze changed, the mouse kept hunting, not caring if it hit its head against wall after wall.

Games were definitely not Thomas's strong suit. The stretching was an aftereffect of the lazing on the rock and the benefits weren't intentionally given this time.

"If I have, I can't remember," Thomas told him, shaking his head at that familiar refrain. "So, even if I have, it'd be like a first time for me. I know what a waffle is but I don't know the taste. Can't remember it at all."

Edited (derped a word up) 2015-08-14 22:39 (UTC)

"First times can be fun," Derek assures him, thinking deliberately about waffles and nothing else. They emerge into the park and Derek slides his hand down Thomas' back again, steering him in the right direction.

The streets are alive in a way that they weren't at the start of their run, full of morning people chattering away, and sleepy humans dragging themselves to work with big cups of coffee. Derek leads them to the diner and opens the door, gesturing Thomas inside and then lifting a hand as the hostess greets them and leads them to a booth near the window.

"You can get whatever you want," Derek tells him, immediately flipping over his coffee cup as he takes a seat and picks up the menu, "but I do highly recommend the waffle."

Diners were becoming more and more commonplace the longer Thomas was around Darrow. When he'd first come upon one alone, he'd sat and stared at a menu blankly, unsure of what half the items were. The staff had been patient and helpful, pointing out things they recommended and not seeming too surprised when he asked what certain things were.

Thomas couldn't be sure if the kindness was more due to personality or that they wanted to make sure they'd get paid. He was terribly used to people taking advantage of him, of who he was and that made it hard to trust anyone.

"I'll take your word on the waffle," Thomas said, sliding into the seat across from Derek and leaning back. "Last time I was in a place like this, I ordered...I think it was eggs and some sausage. It wasn't bad. But, waffle today. Let me try it, see if you're telling the truth here."

"Have I ever steered you wrong before?" Derek asks with a smirk, watching him for a moment before the waitress comes over to fill their coffee mugs. He looks at her gratefully and pulls the mug over, reaching for the sugars as he stops her from leaving. "We know what we want. The deluxe breakfast with the Belgian waffle for both of us, with extra bacon on the side. Please."

"Hungry boys," the waitress says with an amused grin. "I don't know where you put it all."

She wanders off and Derek smiles at Thomas as he stirs three sugars into his coffee. "This will fill you up. It's got a little of everything."

A waffle, eggs, sausage, hashbrowns, fruit, and toast. Derek could probably eat two in one sitting without batting an eye, but one gets the job done well enough. And it should fill Thomas up pretty well. He's too skinny, and Derek always gets the urge to feed him and see him healthy.

It'd been long enough now that Thomas's stomach had mostly adjusted to eating more than meager scraps of food. The first few nights had been a study in how fast he could get to the bathroom and empty the contents of his stomach. Slowly but surely, things had improved and he'd gotten used to having full meals on a regular basis.

He still forgot to eat sometimes, still horded stuff away in case rationing was needed but it wasn't as frequent. The skinniness would probably never go away, though. He ran too much and worried too much to really fill out.

"I'm gonna end up sleeping for a day after this," Thomas said, leaning his cheek against his hand and smiling. "It's still hard to really get that there's so much food so readily available. It just wasn't like that where I came from. We had a good amount in the Glade but nothing like this. And then, after that..."

Then, there'd been nearly starving death followed by food followed more starving.

"A nap doesn't sound like a terrible idea," Derek says with a nod. He doesn't have the truck until the evening, and he can see himself lounging in the grass in wolf form after this, dozing in the shade. His expression softens, going a little concerned, and he takes a sip of his coffee before looking at him again. "You won't go hungry here, Thomas."

Even if food weren't readily available, Derek would make sure that he had it. He knocks his shoe against Thomas' under the table, calling back the meal they shared at the movie, and settles back in the booth with his hands wrapped around his coffee.

It doesn't take long for their food to arrive, and Derek looks greedily at the plates as the waitress sets them down, and he picks up his fork as he looks at Thomas with a small smile. "Dig in."

"I think it'd be impossible to go hungry in a place like this," Thomas agreed, hiding a smile behind his hand when he bumped his shoe against Derek's in an answering gesture. He remembered when that had first happened too. It'd been a good night. The only things he could remember about the movie was the really strange looking squid and the sounds of so many different people screaming for their lives. But still, it'd been a good night.

"That's a lot of food," he remarked, looking down at his plate with wide eyes. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, all meals here seemed to come in huge portions. This was what it was like to live in a world that wasn't bombed out and left to rot. This was what it was to live in a world that was alive. Such a small thing to most but huge in Thomas's eyes.

"Well, I do have the appetite of a wolf," Derek says with a smirk, pulling his waffle over and spreading butter across it before covering it in syrup. "Whatever you don't eat, I'll gladly finish."

He winks at Thomas and then cuts off a piece of waffle, popping it happily into his mouth and licking syrup from the corner of his lips. A pleased noise escapes him and he washes the bite down with coffee, feeling utterly content. "Come on, try a bite."

Derek takes great joy in showing Thomas new things, and he doesn't exactly question why. He's just grateful that he gets the opportunity.

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