Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He wanders a little away from the group while they're chattering about the heat - it's not that hot, anyway - and keeps wandering away while they're distracted. Ducking through trees, he follows the sound of waves down, slipping on rocks still wet from that morning's rain.

The decline turns steep. Still he follows it all the way to the bottom of the hill, though he nearly falls several times. The sound of the small road falls away, giving way to birds calling to each other, sweetly; his own breaths, quick in his ear. By and by the earth flattens out again, till finally he clambers out of the damp trees, and onto the warm sand.

He steps out of his sandals, and walks toward the waves.

Wow.

'You one of the mission trip kids?'

Derek opens his eyes - when had he closed them? - and nearly swallows his tongue.

'You're,' Derek stares at the other boy, trying to place him. 'Are you with Our Lady of Grace?' Trent mentioned OLG was down here already. OLG's even whiter than Andover, though - he doesn't remember seeing any Asian students in the audience the last time they played there.

Then again - he does play hockey. Not exactly representative of true demographics.

The stranger laughs. Derek smiles helplessly, embarrassed. God, he's cute. 'Nah, I'm visiting family,' he says. 'Cousins I never heard of. You know.' Sure-sure-sure, Derek nods. The stranger smiles. 'I'm Chris, by the way. Sorry if I scared you.'

'You didn't scare me,' Derek murmurs, taking in the length of Chris's arms, his paint-spattered shirt. 'My name's Derek. How'd you know I was with the school?' It was one thing having to spend half your summer vacation pretending cultural erasure was a good thing 'cus your dad didn't want to spend any time with you; it was another thing if anyone looking at you could tell.

'Well, the shirt buttoned up all the way to your chin was kind of a giveaway,' Chris says, laughing. Derek clumsily starts unbuttoning his shirt, peeking up at Chris through his hair. Chris circles him loosely, looking him over - Derek turns around backwards, following him. 'Mm...the way that you walk. The way you had, like, a heart attack just from looking at the water. Do they not have beaches in Canada?'

'Dude, Canada doesn't have beaches like this,' Derek says. 'And I'm not from Canada? I'm from New York, Andover's in New York.'

'Ok,' says Chris, shrugging. He stops still beside him, turned towards the sea. Derek glances at him sideways. 'Well. I'm from Cali, so.' He turns back, hands on his hips, staring closely at Derek.

'Oh, I see,' says Derek, averting his eyes. 'So you're too cool for Trinidad. You're already used to,' here he uses air quotes, trying to be funny, '"bea-ches".'

Chris gives him a funny little smile. 'Apples and oranges,' he says, vaguely. He doesn't say anything more, just keeps staring at Derek.

'So, ah,' says Derek, tugging his ear, 'where are your cousins?'

Chris shrugs again, looking away. 'Got tired of translating, I guess.'

Translating. Translating? 'I thought, uh,' says Derek, even though he suspects that there is no way this question won't be taken as a dumb one, 'I thought they spoke English here?'

'They do,' Chris says peaceably, 'but I too Yankee to understand.'

'Dude,' Derek laughs, 'that was pretty good!'

Chris grins over at him. 'No, it wasn't,' he says. And he blinks softly at Derek.

They stare at each other until Derek loses his nerve and looks away, out at the skyline.

'Hey,' says Chris.

Derek swallows. 'Hey,' he says, daring to meet his gaze again.

'Hey,' says Chris, leaning closer.

Derek leans a little closer, too, heart beating double-time - probably there's just a bug, or-or some mud or something, and Chris is just gonna-- uh, flick it? or something--

Chris presses their lips together, and opens his mouth.

Derek relaxes before he thinks about it, and then he forces himself to go still. He will not move, he cannot move, he does not move - and still Chris leans back, still Chris stops touching him.

Derek takes in a breath, takes in the line of this stranger's nose, the soft part of his chin. And he sees, too, that Chris is looking back at him closely.

'Ok?' says Derek, when Chris doesn't say anything.

Chris smiles that little funny smile of his. '--Ok,' he says, nodding. He licks his lips; sucks in a sharp breath through his crooked bottom teeth. 'Well. See ya.'

Then he walks off the way he came, as if nothing ever happened.

And that's the story of Derek's first kiss.

Chapter Text

It's around the second time that Derek imagines seeing Kent Parson in the Haus that he decides he's had enough to drink.

That means his mostly full cup of tub juice is probably only good for dumping into the kitchen sink. That would be good for the pipes, right? Probably clean out that weird smell that appeared mysteriously ever since Bitty went home last weekend.

Ah, speaking of. Derek grips the rim of his cup with his teeth, pulling out his phone to shoot off a series of texts:

Bittttyyyyyy
I miss youuuuu :( :( :(
The kitchen is a barren hellscape without ur smiiiiile
Hows ur MeeMaw?
Call me tomorr--

'Oh, hey!'

Someone behind Derek tugs on the back of his shirt. Startled, he almost drops his cup. He kind of catches it with his chest, luckily, and then grabs it with his hands. It still tips to the side and spills all over his shirt, jeans and shoes - and his phone, which he also dropped, and possibly cracked.

'Shit,' he mutters, turning around. 'What the fuck, dude?'

Chris Chow, goalie for the Las Vegas Aces, and the first and only boy Derek has hallucinated making out with, is standing in the Haus living room, as if it makes perfect sense for him to be there.

'Sorry!' says Chris Chow. His teeth are entirely straight and white. Derek's pretty sure there are two separate Buzzfeed lists about him getting his braces off. 'Sorry, I thought you were-- I thought you were someone else? Uh, do you have a bathroom?' Yes, they have a bathroom. Derek opens his mouth to tell him so, and instead says,

'No problem, we, yeah, uh. Hi.' Chris tilts his head. Derek clears his throat, puts his cup down on a random open surface. 'Umm. Bathroom's up this way.'

'Sorry, again. I didn't mean to scare you before,' says Chris, following close behind him on the stairs, up into the dark.

Derek turns to look back at him and almost trips over his own feet. Chris grabs him tight above his hips and holds him, and keeps holding him. Derek goes down anyway, sinking sideways onto a stair, pulling Chris down with him. Derek remembers each part of him.

'You don't scare me,' he says, low. Recognition blooms over Chris's face. Derek traces its path down with his eyes, the sticky centre of his palms; his mouth.

'--mm,' says Chris, breaking away. Derek chases his mouth for another kiss, frowning when he's denied. 'No, not here-- do you have a room?'

'...I have access to a room,' Derek says, carefully. Bitty won't mind, right?

'Heh. Well. Good enough, I guess.' Chris grins that magazine-ready smile of his, the one that transforms him into someone beautiful and unfamiliar. Someone way out of his league.

'Hey,' says Chris, furrowing his brow, 'where'd you go?'

Derek's heart heaves itself up against his ribcage - he smiles through it. 'Nowhere,' he says, shrugging. 'I'm right here.'

Chris doesn't stop frowning. 'You know, we don't have to-- do anything, right? We can just catch up, like, this is pretty amazing! My mom's literally never gonna believe me, I talked about you for years, I never thought--'

He pauses. Derek has taken hold of his left hand.

'I never thought,' Derek murmurs, kissing each of Chris's fingers where they meet his palm, 'that you were quite real. I thought that I dreamed you.'

Chris exhales harshly through his nose - then he pulls Derek into his arms, crowds him up against the wall. It is the most uncomfortable position he's ever been in on a flight of stairs. He never wants to move.

'I'm real,' Chris says, breathing hard against his neck. 'I'm here.'