Chapter Text
In the midst of sunshine, Derek wakes up to Avery.
Which, of course, isn't at all an unpleasant thing to wake up to.
The unpleasant part would be the fact that he also wakes up to the horror of currently holding his neighbor hostage against his chest and Avery is still asleep and none the wiser.
What the fuck—
Derek lets out an undignified sound before he can help it and pushes Avery away from him, startling the blonde into waking up. Avery shoots up in the bed, eyes wild with new panic. "What's wrong?!" he yelps, much to Derek's chagrin only leaning in closer—and grabbing Derek's hands. "Are you okay?! What happened?!"
"Nothing! I—"
"Who do I need to beat up?!"
"No one!" Derek shouts. "I'm fine!"
"Then why are we yelling?!"
"I DON'T—" Derek wants to smack himself. "I— Don't know," he grounds out, "I—" Shit "I-I think. I was, cuddling you in my sleep?"
"Oh," Avery says. His face slowly starts to turn pink. "Oh?"
"I woke up with you— We were— You were…" Judging by the heat interfering with his choice to speak, Derek's face isn't much better off. "Your head was on my chest."
Avery's face goes fully maroon at that.
"I'm— Wha— But I— FUCK!" he barks out suddenly to himself, burying his face into his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry man, I probably— Shit, that's gotta be my fault. I must've— Holy shit I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," Derek says, because it is.
And, honestly, he's still not sure if it was his doing.
But Avery has already taken this to heart.
"No it's not," he whines, "it's the opposite of fine! I was supposed to stay on my side of the bed! I completely— I—"
Concerned, especially when Avery pulls his hands away to reveal there's tears in his eyes now, Derek reaches out for him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Avery, it's oka—"
"It's okay if you never have me sleep with you again or invite me over again because it's not okay of me and, I'm really really sorry for crossing boundaries and making you uncomfortable. I'd never do that awake I swear I wouldn't, but, but it's okay if you don't trust me now and—"
"Avery," Derek interrupts softly. "Breathe."
He does, finally. It's still ragged at first, but he's looking at Derek now. His eyes remain wide in mortification, tears of shame rolling down his cheeks—and all Derek wants to do is kiss them away.
He doesn't, simply catching them with his thumbs instead.
"It's okay," he repeats, gently. "It might've been my fault. And, even if you initiated, I wouldn't have minded."
Avery blinks. "But…"
"I reacted that way because I thought I'd crossed a boundary," Derek explains further. "I was worried about you feeling uncomfortable." He hesitates. "And, if it was me, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Avery says too quickly, and Derek is about to admonish him for brushing it off before he admits, "That's why I thought I did. 'Cause I. Um."
Derek waits for him to finish, the blonde biting his lip.
"I really… Wanna be close to you," he mumbles.
Derek blinks at that.
It's not a surprise, of course it isn't, but,
for Avery to be admitting it so easily…
Or. Well. Seemingly easy for him.
As if it's not a want, but a need.
Something that's required. Something his body is hardwired by nature to live off of.
"Why?" is all he finds himself asking.
Avery snorts, sort of a wet sound. "Why do I want to be close to you?"
"Yes."
"Since you apparently didn't hear it the first hundred times," Avery sighs, but it's halfhearted, and there's a silly, goofy smile threatening to breach his face. "'Cause I love you."
"No," Derek tries, dumbly. "That's not what I meant."
That same smile fades. "Uh, yeah it is? You asked me why, I answered?"
"No, I—" He has a better question, actually. "Why… Spend the night with me? Why stay here with me?"
Avery stares at him in the moment before responding. "Because I want to?"
"Why?"
Avery stares at him some more, before taking Derek's hands away from his face. (Derek hadn't even realized he was still cradling Avery's face to begin with.) Avery holds onto them, regardless.
"Okay," he inhales, "do you want me to be really honest? Because. I'm just going to be really blunt here, if you let me."
…Oh?
Derek's heart climbs to his throat.
Is this it?
Is Avery going to admit they're not really friends? That he really is only doing this to repay some kind of debt?
An ugly, rotten hope twists itself among his ribcage, tendrils squeezing his bones far too tight.
In response, he tears his hands away from Avery's. (Once again, he forces himself to ignore the heartbreak as a result.)
"Be really honest and blunt," Derek affirms, feeling his heart clogging up his throat even more, and he thinks he might cry again if he's not careful.
But Avery is brutally, bluntly honest with him when he says,
"I think the last of your braincells died with the King."
. . .
"Sorry," he apologizes, but he's not. Not really. "I just— I's like— It genuinely feels like your common sense went out the window once he tried, y'know— Intervening with what we were doing. And he took your common sense with him, or something."
.
.
.
Well.
He can say his heart vanishes into thin air, at that.
He… Is not sure how to properly. Anything. With Avery's assessment? Of him?
What.
"I'm half-joking, if that helps," Avery adds.
Half.
Right.
Avery, what?
The subject of Derek's questions pointedly rolls his eyes.
"Look, all I'm— Wait no. You told me to blunt, I'm gonna be freaking blunt and the thing is you're being—!" He huffs, gestures animatedly, throwing his palms out in Derek's direction. "You're being an idiot! You've— Been being an idiot!"
Derek chooses to ignore the issues with that statement in particular. "Avery," he tries. His voice comes out smaller than he wanted. "Why… Do you think that?"
Not that he's hurt by it. Not that the only thing of value about himself is the fact he's generally not an idiot, and generally he's smart, and logical, and
"Because you don't—" Avery starts. Stops. "…You're not—" Stop.
Uncomfortably, Derek fidgets with his hands in his lap. "If it's hard to explain…"
"It's not. I just— Look. Look at me."
Derek does.
The other man is leaning closer into his space, brows furrowed in nothing short of desperation.
"You're being an idiot," Avery breathes, "because you won't let me love you."
…
"I…" Derek swallows down on the three-word phrase threatening to bubble out of him, lest he somehow get Avery to stay even longer. "So you've said."
Avery seemingly chokes a moment. "So I've— Yeah! Yeah so I've said! And I'll say it a— Fu— Freakin', infinite amount of times for it to get through your thick freaking skull!"
Derek swallows again. Suddenly, his heart exists again. "I… Appreciate it. But— You can't just… Tie yourself to me like that."
"Tie myself to you," Avery repeats. Almost flatly.
"Yes. I mean— No, you can't do this to yourself, Avery," Derek tries to reason, "I was never meant to be your friend, you were never meant to find me—"
"I did."
Derek forces himself to ignore the steely conviction in the other's voice.
"If I'm being— To be honest," Derek chuckles, weak, "I shouldn't even be here, and, I think we both know that. We both know I should've died with the King. I wasn't meant to survive that."
"You did," Avery snaps, and Derek can't help but flinch at the sheer snarl in his voice. "So it doesn't matter."
"Of course it—"
"It doesn't matter 'cause I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with you!"
…
. . .
"So if you—" His voice breaks on you. He gulps, and his hands are gripping the blanket under him, and he's clinging to it, fabric bunched up in his balled fists, shaking. "If you think you can try walking out of it again, th-then… You really did lose your mind."
It's Derek's turn to stare.
His mouth works at nothing, for a moment.
His mouth is dry.
His tongue feels like lead.
Maybe Derek is an idiot, thinking he can argue against the force that is Avery Logan.
"You… Can't," he rasps.
"I'm going to," Avery snaps back like a whip, ready for it.
"You—"
"I'm going to."
"That's not— Avery—" Derek exhales, chest feeling too, too tight. It's not hope anymore; and it has only blossomed. "You shouldn't, dedicate your entire life to me, that's— That's insane. We're not even—"
.
.
.
…Well.
That's the million dollar question.
Isn't it?
When Avery speaks next, it's almost terrifying just how quiet he has gotten without a warning.
"Not even what?"
It's barely above a whisper.
. . .
"I don't know," Derek whispers back. "I don't know what we are."
He's wanted to be friends.
"I… Can't call you my friend, because I don't know if…"
He swallows, yet again.
The heart is smaller, but, no less prevalent.
"I don't know what you want."
Avery blinks. A couple of times.
Then, he lets out a watery laugh.
"I." Another laugh, more disjointed and unrestrained. He's smiling, gently, questioningly. "What?"
…
Now Derek is confused.
"What?" he parrots.
"Dude. I thought? I've been obvious???"
Derek simply nods, brows furrowing.
"You still feel like you owe something to me," he agrees.
Avery's gently-confused smile flattens into something strained.
"What."
Derek presses on. "And like I said, I do appreciate it. I know that's not the entire reason, and I appreciate how much you care for me in general now, but—"
"No no hold up— What?"
He pauses at the absolutely dumbfounded tone of Avery's voice, paired with his furrowed brows and completely baffled eyes.
"What?" Derek echoes back again, blinking.
"You just— I— What?" Avery's own mouth mirrors Derek's from before. Gaping, closing, gaping again. "You think— That's what you think I'm…?"
Stars, this is going all wrong. "No, I just— I mean, that's why you initially decided to visit with and talk to me," Derek amends quickly, "but now you're…" He pauses. "Maybe you do still feel obligated? Especially now that we're closer? And," he continues, "it's in your nature. To be kind and generous to others, I mean."
…
. . .
Why is Avery giving him another look.
Not the soft, almost affectionate one of before; this time it's,
it's like how he was looking at him when saying Derek's braincells were nonexistent.
Avery straightens a bit. He folds his hands over his mouth, inhaling, exhaling.
"I'm going to be very bluntly honest again," he announces.
Should Derek be concerned…?
The answer is yes, because then Avery states, with the air of a very matter-of-fact teacher educating someone on the history of the universe itself: "You are the most important person to me ever and I think I'd die if I ever lost you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you because I can't stand not having you with me, and I miss you, like, EMBARRASSINGLY badly when you're not with me."
Derek's heart threatens nonexistence again.
Oh.
"And I think I—" The blonde's breathing hitches. "I… Really, really want you. Like. More than anyone. More than— Anything. But I'd be okay if you weren't. Um. If you didn't want to be with me. I just… I need you to be happy, and safe. I— That's, that's the most important thing, is that you're… I need you safe and…"
He bites his lip. Swallows. Laughs, then. "Like— What'd you— What'd you think I meant, when I…?"
…
. . .
"That you were humoring me," Derek whispers.
Another hitch of breath. "Humoring you…?"
"I— I don't know. I thought— I-I didn't think you'd…"
The despair that was once hope strangles him from the inside.
"There's nothing special about me," he forces himself to confess, anyway. "I know it— It might have seemed like it, when you met me and learned about me, but I'm— I'm just some guy. I'm not d3rlord3, I'm just Derek. And— You deserve far better than me. Someone who can keep you safe and isn't—"
He stops himself, but the obvious conclusion hangs in the air.
Carefully, he tries to shift himself backwards. He tries curling in on himself, head lowering, hands closing over each other. He's not sure what else to do, how else to make himself smaller. He should leave, but Avery won't possibly let him. Avery should leave, should go home, but he won't possibly do that unless Derek were to push him out. …No— No, even then, Avery would come back. Avery will always come back.
He isn't sure how to convince him not to—he's not good at it, he's smart in all the ways that are unimportant, all the ways that aren't useful to his friend(?).
His friend.
He does think of Avery as his friend, and he has, maybe since the moment he looked into the gates, the moment he locked eyes with the King and knew there was someone out there that would be, that cared enough to go searching for him.
…
. . .
He realizes neither of them has spoken in a while.
"Avery," he begins, hoarsely, but softly. Always, when it's Avery.
He's not one-hundred percent sure what he'd been about to say. Another variation of I care about you but you should stop caring about me, probably.
Whatever it would have been, whatever the case, Avery crawls forward on his hands and knees.
Derek hadn't moved that far away from him, but Avery very purposefully closes the gap anyway. And for a moment he pauses, face far into Derek's personal space, inches apart. Then he leans back, slightly—and with all the force that he can read: is willing to lay on Derek he punches Derek in the shoulder.
Derek reels back, spluttering out of surprise more than hurt.
"Avery, what the Hell—"
"That's for pushing me off the platform and saving my life," Avery concludes, before then halfheartedly punching Derek's other shoulder. "That's for being so damned difficult." Another, this time to his chest. It's more of his fist just thumping against his chest this time. It lingers. "This's for lacking braincells and thinking you're not good enough for me."
He pauses, eyes lingering on where his fist rests over Derek's heart. Slowly, the fist uncurls. His fingers splay out over Derek's chest.
"This…" he breathes. Just… Staring a moment.
Not for too long.
Derek's first secret warning is Avery's eyes suddenly shooting back up to meet his, hardened with a sort of resolve Derek has only ever dreamed of seeing face to face.
"And this is for all the rest of it," he growls, Derek's second secret warning before Avery grabs a fistful of his shirt, yanking him forward into a kiss.
For all the fierceness Avery just showed in build up of the action itself, the moment Avery's lips meet his, Derek can feel the way the blonde's entire body just wholly melts in response. He doesn't let go of the shirt, but his grip slackens considerably, still held presumably just so he can make sure the other's within reach.
On Derek's part…
He…
Has only ever known Avery's lips in dreams.
He dreams about anything and everything, and of course Avery would be an everything. He's dreamt about kissing him. Holding him. Having him, in the purest sense.
It's all he craves and desires—not Avery's claim on him, not any sort of reward. But his company. His presence. His time.
Anything more had always been a bonus.
So, he doesn't know how to react, what to do with himself by the time Avery pulls back mere seconds later. His friend(???)'s eyes are wet with unshed tears, green eyes glistening in the dim lamplight.
"Sorry," Avery mumbles, and he lets go of Derek's shirt, sitting back on his knees. He roughly wipes at one of his eyes, causing tears to slip out the other. "I-I've been wanting to do that since, like—" He chokes on a laugh that's a sob. "L-like forever."
It doesn't make sense, so Derek deflects; choking out a, "Punching me or kissing me?"
It's worth it to hear Avery snort.
"Yes," Avery breathes, nodding too quickly, wiping his nose gracefully with the back of his wrist.
Derek wants to kiss him again.
Would that be okay?
But, Avery is doing his backtracking again.
"Fuck," he swallows, "I'm— I'm sorry. I didn't even— You probably don't—" His hands are visibly shaking, and Derek wants to reach for them, to hold them, to kiss them. "I-I can leave if that's— If you want me out of your life that's fine and I'll get out of it, right now, just say the word."
What?
Has Derek even hinted that that's what he wants Avery to do?
Has he somehow accidentally implied he doesn't think the world of him?
What gave Avery the idea—
.
.
.
Oh.
That's.
Oh.
He doesn't know whether to laugh, or cry again.
He finds that he can't do either.
He really has been being an idiot, hasn't he?
Avery abruptly laughs, sharp and sudden into the pressing silence. Derek sees his hands tangle into his own nightshirt over his knees. (It's a little too big on him.)
"Could you— C-could you at least tell me how you feel about— About me? L-like. If you hate me? Or…"
He trails off. Maybe because he can't think of any other way Derek would truly feel about him.
And, it is with that that Derek realizes he's not once said I love you back.
All those times Avery didn't leave and all the times he's stayed with him and all the times he's here.
That…
…
Now that… Isn't something a noble knight would stand for.
That isn't something a Lord would let his beloved go on believing.
That isn't something the savior of The World would let his World even begin to doubt.
There is one last thing for The World that he must do.
(Until the next thing for Him, and the next thing, and the next.)
So,
Derek leans into Avery's personal space, and his palms reach for each side of Avery's jaw. Lifting his chin up, seeing that Avery looks at him once again. He leans further, and further, and further.
Close enough that he can see the golden flecks in Avery's green eyes; close enough to see the subtle quiver in his bottom lip, unsure, scared, hopeful. Enough so that Avery 's breath is mixing with Derek's own, warm and just a little shaky.
"I love you," Derek sighs, the warm exhale of the words practically falling onto Avery's lips themselves.
The blonde blinks, mouth slightly parted.
"You," is all he can gasp out.
Derek kisses him.
This kiss is much the same as the last, in the all the right, gentle ways, but slower. Avery has no reason to pull away. There's no doubt anymore. No unheard question lingering in the air—a question Derek had made up for himself, sure, but…
As though sensing the need for reassurance, Avery presses deeper into the kiss, lips adjusting to match his. His hands once more find Derek's hair. Their favorite thing to do, it seems. They drift and pull at his locks, like ocean waves baiting, enchanting some poor soul to go into the water, to let themself be carried by the tide, out to sea.
Derek wouldn't exactly call himself "poor," though.
Avery is the one to pull away again, but he's beaming when he does it—and that's a third secret warning before Derek is grabbed by the shirt again. By the glint in Avery's eye, he knows and he halfheartedly starts to protest, "Ave—"
His protest goes ignored, and Avery takes him down with him onto the bed for a second time, this time Derek landing on top of him directly.
He takes a moment to properly right himself, looking down into the blonde's glittering eyes.
Derek sighs, deeply.
Avery has the nerve to snicker.
"Gotcha," he chimes triumphantly.
"Do you?" Derek asks.
"Yeah." Both hands back in his hair, smoothing over whatever came unruly in the fall. "Mine now."
His eyes are so full of personal achievement and utter joy that Derek can't even be mad.
And he has the very belated realization that those aren't golden flecks, but stars in Avery's eyes.
"Only if you're mine too," he murmurs; but he doesn't think he has anything at all to worry about, the entirety of Avery's face softening to him.
"Always have been," he breathes—to which Derek then snorts. (At the sound, somehow the blonde's face softens even more.)
"We both know that's not possible," he points out. "You've known me for a month."
"The best month of my life. Well," Avery considers, "not the part where I thought you were dead. And not really anything with the King, 'cause that really sucked. Like, really sucked. But all the parts after that."
"My point still stands."
"Okay but consider I think I was meant to find you. Y'know, like, some sort of soulmates thing."
"I doubt that," Derek responds. "But I am glad it was you."
"Yeah. 'Cause then you would've been saved by somebody else and you'd be in love with them instead."
He genuinely makes a face at that. "Absolutely not."
Avery gives him a look. "You knew everybody in the whole world, there had to be other guys that you knew would've found you if given the chance."
"Yes," he agrees, "but none of them would have been you."
"Well, yeah. Probably could've gotten someone as cool and as smart as you," Avery jokes.
Derek narrows his eyes at the man beneath him.
Absolutely not.
"Avery," he says.
The smile fades from the blonde's face. "…Yeah?"
"I have always been yours, too."
"I thought you said—"
"You're the exception."
"That… Makes no sense."
"It doesn't have to," Derek defends.
"But—"
He cuts Avery off by kissing him again.
A very effective way of shutting him up.
"I would have never wanted anyone else," he murmurs above Avery's lips. "I knew from the moment I knew you, if it had been anyone else, it wouldn't have been the same. I could understand every creature in the universe, and I could understand which of them would gladly have taken your place. People who were as kind as you, as stubborn as you. Who would've done anything and everything to save me, too."
He breathes out a sigh, one of his hands playing with Avery's own hair. The other hand cradles Avery's jaw, thumb drifting to smooth over his lips, reverent.
(And he thinks he might understand a little, why Avery would want to be with him over any other person in the world.)
"But I wouldn't have loved a single one of them the way I loved you."
Avery pauses, eyes half-lidded, as he gazes up into Derek's own eyes. "Not even a little bit?" he mumbles against Derek's thumb.
"Not even a tiny bit," Derek murmurs.
Avery's eyes look a little too wet again, so kisses him again, slower.
"I really do love you," Avery sighs, when they break away.
"I know."
"No, I mean like. I just." Another sigh, almost lovesick in nature. Derek's cheeks feel too warm. "I really love you. I wouldn't have loved anyone else either. Ever. Like, if I was looking for anyone else it wouldn't have been the same either. It always had to be you."
Derek kisses him again, humming against his lips contentedly. In the next break, Avery sighs yet again, but it's almost too exaggerated and Avery is wholly grinning. "You had me at 'Whatever you do at the crossroads, don't turn—'"
This time instead of a second set of lips, Avery gets a palm muffling his. He makes a noise of upset, pathetic and whiny in nature, so naturally Derek gives in the next instant and does actually kiss him.
Which sort of just devolves into the pair doing nothing with their time but kissing each other.
Sometimes, it's on the lips, but oftentimes they'll move to the rest of the face. They take turns with it, Derek always going completely silent and mumbly when Avery attacks his, and Avery dissolving into illegally adorable giggling when Derek does the same to him. Particularly, kissing the blonde's eyelids seems to do the trick.
Derek decides it's his favorite sound in the history of everything.
They do this for who-really-knows-how-long and really, the logical thing to do, in the nature of time and how things move forward, would be to stop and do something more productive.
Like eating, probably.
Eating would be a good action to take at nine in the morning.
But they don't.
Of course they don't.
They kiss and they laugh and they make fun of doors and the color yellow—and a certain very dead entity who was associated with both—and they kiss some more. They pause, a few times, to simply look at each other, partly to make sure they're both real. Avery does this specifically, and Derek realizes what it means other than just that, because now he does it too.
When he's not admiring them, he tries to memorize the stars in Avery's eyes. The same with every dimple in his skin, every slight blemish and imperfection, every freckle and mole. When he feels he's spent enough time dedicating all to his mind, he goes back to cherishing.
In the effect of unbridled, unrelenting affection, things feel warm and safe. They get sleepy again, Avery remaining on his back while Derek has moved onto his side. He's absently running his fingers through the blonde's hair, cheek resting on the space just shy of Avery's chest, below his shoulder.
Avery's rambling sleepily about plants and the ocean, and Derek is listening attentively, eyes slipped shut in silent reverie.
"Y'know," Avery mumbles, at some point. "I feel safe with you too."
Derek just hums in acknowledgement.
"Maybe it's 'cause you saved my life," he goes on, "or something. I dunno. But you're just…"
A pause.
"…You feel like home. Y'know? 's one of the reasons I always wanna come over. I don't really do good with living alone. Or. Being alone in general."
Derek hums. "Move in with me."
"Heh." … "Wait what."
"I mean it," he says. "Move in here."
"You're— You're serious?"
He shrugs. "I don't see why not. Especially if we're dating."
"We're dating?"
"Do you want to be?"
"Yeah," comes Avery's immediate reply.
"Then yes, I think so."
"Wow." He sounds almost dazed, voice dreamy. "Cool."
Pffft. "I love you."
Instead of responding, Avery pauses again. Derek is content to thread curls through his fingers.
"So if I move in, can we also get married?"
Derek's eyes shoot open, fingers freezing mid-brush.
"N— Not right now! O-obviously," Avery laughs. It's nervous. "I just— Like, I mean, in the future?"
…
"You… Want to marry me?" His voice comes out deathly quiet. Even for him.
He feels Avery's head turn towards him, but, he can't bring himself to meet his gaze.
"…Yeah," the blonde says. Voice matching Derek's own volume. "I do."
. . .
"That's… I don't know. I-I know it's a lot to say already but— That's what I mean, when I… I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
"Oh," Derek whispers.
"Sorry. I-if that's—"
"No. I…"
. . .
"I want to marry you too. One day."
"…Really?"
It's a little too small for Derek's taste.
He tilts his head up to meet his lover's.
Even the gold of his eyes is soft when he looks at him.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Avery stares back, wide eyes glistening.
And without a secret fourth warning, he brings their lips to meet once more.
Shortly after that is when they fall back asleep—not at all concerned about the inevitable passing of time and lack of productivity, because that'd mean they were concerned at all with anything more than each other.
And, anyway.
Derek finds he really doesn't care much for being "logical" anymore.
In the absence of loneliness, in the presence of his beloved, he dreams of stars.