puckandpie | time to talk [dated to 1/13/2016]

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derek

time to talk [dated to 1/13/2016]

It's that quiet time of night, the last half hour or so after Derek's already booted out the last of the stragglers and the few employees left over are all silently cleaning up so we can head out as quickly as possible. We don't need that many hands for closing, to be honest, just one or two in the front to take care of the tables and floors and me in the back to clean up the kitchen. So I'm really not surprised at all when I push open the kitchen door to find only Derek finishing up with the bar in front.

I already have my coat on -- the leather one Derek got me for Christmas because it fits me so, so well -- and am looking forward to the quiet walk home. After hours and hours of forcing smiles and chipper conversation, it'll be nice to not have to pretend for awhile.

Derek's back is to me and I let myself watch him for only a moment or two before heading for the door. I know he can both hear and smell me so, as much as I'd maybe like to, it's not like I can just sneak out.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Hale," I say, hoping there's enough of a teasing lilt still left in my voice as I reach for the door.

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Derek laughs at that, and then stands up when they're done eating. He takes their plates and puts them in the sink before clapping his hands together, turning around and grabbing their jackets, handing Bitty's over. "Time to go."

There's no dallying once we're both done eating; Derek grabs our plates and drops them in the sink and grabs our coats. It's starting to feel like we're on a timetable, which only makes me wonder more. Maybe it's a movie? Or some kind of performance with a set time?

I don't ask though, just take my coat and slip into it before nodding at him. "Alright, Mr. Mystery. Lead the way."

Derek chuckles and gives Jinx a scratch behind the ears before ushering Bitty out into the hall and locking the door behind them. He slips his keys into the pocket of his coat, and then pats his jeans pocket to make sure that the little plastic container is still there.

“We’re heading out towards the cabin,” Derek offers as they make their way outside. It’s cool, but it isn’t freezing, and if all goes well they’ll both be warm enough. It’s early enough that the park is still pretty empty aside from the morning joggers, and Derek looks over his shoulder at Bitty, grinning slyly before disappearing into the trees. “Keep up, pup.”

"You're lucky I'm even awake right now," I say, following him out into the into the woods, stepping over fallen sticks and piles of sodden leaves along the way. "I'm keeping up as well as I can considering I haven't had nearly enough coffee yet this morning and it's about an hour before I normally get up. I'm a growing boy, you know. I need my rest!"

Derek's clearly excited about wherever it is we're going, several feet ahead of me as we tramp through the leaves. "What's at your cabin?" I ask him because I've been there before already. More than once. I don't remember anything in or around it that's all that extraordinary.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Derek teases. He probably could have let Bitty sleep in more, but he was too excited. And he doubts Bitty will be complaining once he finds out why they’re out here. Well, Derek hopes that he’ll want to try. If not, they’ll turn around and go home.

Derek veers left of the trail that leads to his cabin, heading deeper into the woods instead. Soon they come upon a large clearing surrounded by tall trees, with sunbeams filtering down into the grass.

“Okay,” Derek says, turning around to face Bitty as he approaches. “Remember at Magnus’ party, how people drank potions that turned them into cats and mice?”

He’s suddenly nervous, because what if Bitty doesn’t want to do this at all? Derek had a pretty good feeling about it, but now he swallows hard, watching Bitty with wide eyes.

We take a left before reaching Derek's cabin, wandering deeper into a part of the woods I've never been before until we hit a clearing. The trees are bare, but it's so easy to picture how it looks in the summer, this wide patch of land exposed to the sunlight right in the middle of the forest. I'm sure it's beautiful.

Still, I arch an eyebrow as I follow Derek into it. "You're not gonna sacrifice me, are you?" I ask him. I'm joking, of course. I trust Derek more than anyone else here, but I still don't have a single clue what we're supposed to be doing.

But then Derek's turning to face me and he looks strangely nervous. Something about it makes my stomach flip before I can get ahold of myself and I bite my lip, keeping my hands buried in my pockets.

The reminder of Magnus's party quickly makes whatever stupid hope I'd had drift away, remembering instead how completely out of place I'd felt that night. Heck, I should've realized then that I didn't stand a chance. Not when there are so many more interesting and better-looking people here, not when Derek could have almost absolutely anybody else. I'd left the party less than an hour in, just after people starting turning into cats, but not before watching Derek flirt.

I didn't even realize he knew I was there. Somehow, that only makes me feel worse.

He's still waiting for me to respond though and I pull in a breath as I nod, frowning down at my feet. "I remember. I, uh. I didn't really stay long, but I remember the cats. That's about when I decided it was best for me and Elvis to go home."

"You are really bad at guessing," Derek teases. Bitty's face does a complicated series of expressions that Derek can't even begin to decipher when he mentions the party, and that doesn't really give Derek much hope.

"Okay, well," he starts, sliding his hand into his pocket. "Magnus gave me a gift for Christmas. It's the same potion, but it makes anyone who drinks it a wolf for a few hours."

He pulls the small vial out and holds it out in his palm, offering it to Bitty. "I was wondering if you wanted to try it."

It's just about the absolute last thing I'm expecting. In fact, even if Derek had given me a list of possibilities with Magical Wolf Potion included on it, it'd probably be at the very bottom of what I'd have expected.

For a moment all I can do is stare.

It's such a small vial. A part of me doesn't think it can actually do what he says it can. But I know what I saw at that party and I know what's possible in this city. And, moreover, I know that Derek wouldn't tease or joke or lie about something like this.

"You're serious," I finally manage, looking up to meet his eyes again. He still looks nervous, I can't help but notice. "You... I mean. You'd turn too, right? It wouldn't be just me?"

Derek seems to hold his breath while Bitty inspects the vial. He doesn't really know how Bitty will react, and he laughs a little when he finally speaks. "I'm serious."

He smiles softly and nods, keeping his hand out so that Bitty could take the vial. "Of course I would. I'd be with you the whole time."

There's something about it that definitely feels like a gift. I almost want to ask if he's done this with someone else yet, if I'm the first, but there's just as big a part of me that really doesn't want to know the answer. What difference would it make anyway? Whatever stupid feelings I have, Derek is my friend. And I'm his pack. And that means everything.

Carefully, I reach out to take the vial, looking back up at him when I do, almost sure he'll change his mind at the last second.

"Do I drink the whole thing?" I ask him, running my thumb along the smooth glass. "And, uhm. You're sure I'll turn back? Have you had this tested? I mean, I've never met Magnus myself, but we talk on twitter sometimes and he seems like he knows what he's doing, but he also seems to have a bit of a mischievous streak to him and it's not that I'd really mind spending the rest of my days as a wolf, but it'd definitely make baking a struggle."

"Yeah, one shot is enough for a few hours, he said," Derek tells him, smiling when Bitty takes the vial. He bites his lip at the question, looking down at the vial.

"He gave me eight shots, but you're the first person I've asked," Derek admits, looking sheepish. "Everyone who took it at the party was fine, and Magnus-- I know he can be kind of an ass, but he gave this to me as a gift. Like he knew how much it would mean to me. And Luke trusts him, and I trust Luke."

It's kind of a thin argument, and Derek's shoulders droop a little. "It's completely up to you if you want to try it."

He smiles a little, almost teasingly. "But if something were to happen to you, I'd do my best to rip Magnus' throat out, just so you know."

Oh. I suppose that answers my question of if I'm the first.

A new flood of hope rolls through me and I have to squash it quick before it gets out of control, but I still can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. I glance down at the vial again, considering. Even if something did happen to me, I know there are plenty of magical people here who could probably fix it, either before or after Derek rips Magnus to shreds. (And, goodness, the idea of Derek doing that because of me is both thrilling and terrifying.)

Unless it kills me. There'd be no coming back from that.

But, however mischievous Magnus may be, he doesn't strike me as particularly murderous. And I think he'd know better than to kill off the friends of a werewolf.

"I want to," I finally reply, thumbing lightly at the tiny little cork at the top of the vial. "Should I, uh. Do you think it'll hurt? Should I prepare myself?"

Derek lets out a breath that he didn't even realize he was holding, smiling in relief when Bitty says that he wants to try it.

"I don't think so," Derek says. "I talked to a few people who took it at the party. They said that they felt funny for a second and then they were on four legs."

Derek looks Bitty over, noting his coast and the snugness of his jeans. He chuckles softly and gestures at him. "You'll probably need to take off your clothes though."

Derek's gaze drops to my chest and then travels downward and, thinking I must have something on me, I look down to check. And that's right about when he says I should take my clothes off.

I can feel my entire face go red and I whip my head up to stare at him. "But it's-- it's so cold!" I point out. But that's honestly not my biggest worry. I've been naked tons of times in front of other guys. Heck, back at Samwell, it happened daily, but here... well, here, I haven't been in months. And I certainly haven't with Derek.

There was that one time in that other version of Darrow when I was nearly naked and Derek entirely so and we shared a bed. But I absolutely can't think about that right now. I can't.

Instead, I suck in a breath and force the wild beating under my chest to calm down.

"Okay," I say with a definitive nod. "Here." I hand the vial back to him and start in, unzipping and shrugging off my jacket first, followed by my shirt. I fold them neatly and set them just under a tree, trusting that Derek will know how to find this spot later, and then toe off my shoes and peel off my socks. The ground is frigid under my toes which is a nice distraction as I tug my jeans off next, turning just a little away from Derek before finally sliding off my underwear.

Edited 2016-01-20 20:17 (UTC)

Derek hadn’t meant that Bitty needed to take his clothes off right now, but he doesn’t try to stop him. Bitty grew up playing sports, and Derek remembers that locker room mentality. Still, he has to resist the urge to let his gaze sweep over Bitty’s body curiously. And okay, he fails.

Bitty is small, but he’s all lean, compact muscle. He has strong thighs and an ass that Derek has admittedly already stared at through his tight pants a time or two. His glance is fleeting, and too quick for Bitty to even notice, and then he starts removing his own clothes.

Once they’re both naked, Derek gestures at the vial, anticipation running through him. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll shift when you do.”

It's even more awkward to stand there, completely naked, as Derek strips down to nothing. I keep trying to tell myself it's just like the locker room, but I know it's not. For one, Derek isn't a teammate and, even if he were, well. It's not like I've never been attracted to a teammate before.

But in a locker room there are easy distractions, like the process of putting on or taking off your own gear, conversations between teammates, coaches whispering in a far corner. There are plenty of things to look at and pay attention to other than the fact that there is an extremely attractive naked man two feet in front of you.

I'm trying so hard not to be weird about the whole thing, mentally warring with myself over whether or not to let my gaze drop below Derek's. Is looking too obvious? Or is actively not looking even more obvious?

In the end, I let myself sneak when Derek nods down at the vial again, just long enough to see the heavy hang of his cock between his thighs and-- goodness. Okay. Okay, that's.

The vial.

Right.

Nodding, I glance up at Derek's face again and then take a breath, pull off the tiny cork on the vial, tip my head back, and swallow it down with my eyes closed. It's not the greatest thing I've ever tasted, but it doesn't make me gag. It's strangely warm though, like alcohol and, just like Derek said, it feels a little strange. Not a bad sort of strange, just... strange.

And then I'm suddenly, in the blink of an eye, much closer to the ground. And, oh. So much warmer.

Derek watches closely as Bitty knocks back the liquid, heart beating fast. He doesn't think that anything bad will happen, but still. He cares about Bitty and this is sort of a big deal.

A grin splits his face when he's suddenly looking at a golden wolf with reddish ears and a big fluffy tail. He sinks to his knees and reaches out to scratch Bitty between the ears, chuckling a bit. "You're so fluffy. How do you feel?"

After a moment, Derek reaches into his jeans and takes out his phone, snapping a few photos of Bitty wolf before turning on the front facing camera and turning the phone around, holding it up so that Bitty can get a good look at himself. "You make one good lookin' wolf."

For about three seconds I'm at eye level with the portion of Derek's anatomy I just spent the past highly awkward few minutes trying not to look at. And it's really no less intimidating through the eyes of a walk.

Though, maybe 'intimidating' isn't really the right word. Maybe 'delicious?'

Goodness, I really need to stop thinking about this.

It gets easier when Derek crouches in front of me, brings his face close to mine and I know it has to be the wolf instinct inside me, but I'm suddenly compelled to lick his face. So I do. His stubble scratches my tongue, but it mostly feels and tastes nice and I know my tail's wagging.

Oh my gosh, I have a tail.

I immediately whip around to see it, the making out the light fluff there and on the rest of me before tipping my head back to look up at Derek. I don't know if he can understand me, but I can understand him. He's taking our picture now and it's impossible not to nuzzle up closer, his skin warm against my cold, wet nose. I like him again, right on the chin and try to answer his question with an enthusiastic, "Yes!"

Only it comes out as a yip. And I don't even care. Is this what it feels like to be a wolf all the time? Warm and sure and powerful? Gosh, no wonder he spent so much of his time in that other Darrow in this form. I would've, too!

"Oh god, you're just a big puppy. Why am I not surprised?" Derek laughs as Bitty licks his face, wriggling around so much that Derek can barely get a picture. He ends up taking a video instead, wrapping an arm around Bitty and holding him close, smiling as Bitty keeps licking him. "Okay, my turn."

He puts his phone away and shifts himself, shaking out his fur. His is inky black where Bitty's is tawny gold, and that isn't where the differences end. Being a werewolf, he's a decent bit bigger than Bitty, who is on the smallish side with skinny legs and oversized paws.

Derek pads over and presses his face to Bitty's, nuzzling in close. It's such a good feeling that Derek actually whimpers, tail thumping, because while there are other wolves in the city, they aren't pack. Bitty isn't a werewolf, but it's close enough. In that moment, Derek feels downright jubilant.

There are so many smells, that's the first thing I notice. And I pick up Derek's immediately, musky and spicy and familiar. He smells like he always does, only more and it lingers even when he turns into a wolf himself.

He's still bigger than me which is unsurprising, and he trots right on over, pressing his muzzle into the ruff of my neck. I want to laugh and I think I do, only it comes out as a playful huff as I bounce on my feet, pushing against him. There's an itch under my skin, under my fur, to run, but I want him to come with me.

I'm not going anywhere without him.

So I rear up onto my hind legs for a second and then crouch low with my butt in the air, tail wagging. Derek's much more loose and playful as a wolf, I've learned that already. And right now, with the ground cold beneath my feet and the air chilly, I want to play.

Derek huffs, watching with fondness as Bitty bounces around. He looks and smells so happy, and Derek lets out a sigh of relief. This is what he wanted. He wanted Bitty to be happy, if only for a few hours.

Bitty is buzzing with energy, back paws thumping against the dirt, and Derek playfully tackles him down into the leaves. He knows that Bitty is currently just a wolf, and not a werewolf. He doesn't have all the speed and strength that Derek has, so he's gentle when he takes him down, sending them tumbling a few times.

He pops up and barks, nipping at Bitty's heels before he takes off in a run, darting easily through the trees.

Derek tackles me to the ground, teeth bared in a way I know, instinctively, is only in play. We wrestle for a few seconds, me on my back as I kick at him with my hind legs, leaves and sticks catching in my fur.

And then he's up again, nipping lightly at my feet before he darts off.

Taking his cue, I leap to my feet and chase after him. The wind through my fur is exhilarating, scents from all over flooding my nostrils as my paws pound on the forest floor. I leap over fallen logs and brambles, scare a few rabbits, and I know Derek must be running just fast enough for me to not quite catch him, but I don't even mind.

I feel free.

Derek isn't running anywhere near full speed, slow enough that Bitty can keep pace but not quite catch him. He veers off suddenly, panting as Bitty skids past him in an attempt to stop, and Derek barks and pounces on him, tackling him down into the leaves.

He lets out an amused huff and nips at Bitty's ear, nosing at his neck and licking at his muzzle before he hops off of him, prancing playfully on the other side of the clearing.

Up ahead of me, Derek suddenly veers to the right, his paws kicking up leaves and dirt in the sudden change of direction and I stumble in my effort to stop. He's back before I've gotten my feet back under me, pouncing and nipping lightly at my ears.

I fall to my back instinctively again, kicking up at him as he nuzzles the ruff of my neck again, licks at my muzzle. I nip back as well as I can, lips pulled back to show my teeth, but it's all fun. I'm not aiming to hurt him and I know he won't hurt me, but there's still this instinct, low in my gut, that want's nothing more than to wrestle him to the ground.

But he gets away before I can, prancing to the other side of the clearing. I zoom off after him and jump up onto his back when I get close enough, knocking him down before prancing and preening a little.

Derek is having the time of his life. He’s been on runs like this with Luke, and they’ve wrestled like puppies even if they probably wouldn’t admit it when they back in their skin, and he enjoys them immensely. But there’s something about Bitty’s endless enthusiasm and pure, radiant joy that is really getting to Derek and making him feel better than he has in months.

Bitty pounces on him, taking him down into the leaves, and Derek lets out a playful growl before pushing Bitty off of him with his back feet, springing back onto his paws with his tail wagging like mad.

And then, just because he’s so happy, he tosses his head back and lets out a long, loud, celebratory howl.

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