Work Text:
"Hale" also means "Home"
By AgentAlexKrycek
Derek Hale was ecstatic to finally be off that damn plane after almost six torturous hours. His long muscular legs had cramped up, and he hated the stale recycled cabin air. He swore planes were smaller and more crowded than the last time he had flown. Maybe he should have spent the extra money to upgrade to first class like his uncle had suggested.
Most people would be happy getting off the plane in Hawaii, but for Derek it was a forced vacation. His uncle had told him, in no uncertain terms, he needed to take a well-deserved break after years at Hale Enterprises. He loved his work, but he could see Peter's view that several years straight, with no break, might have been overkill. That still didn't give him the right to force Derek to take a vacation at virtual gunpoint. His nose was assaulted by all the new smells. The air was fragrant with the scent of plumeria, and the cool trade winds and warm sunshine felt wonderful against his rugged face. He felt closer to the sun here than he did in his native California. He adjusted his backpack and made his way down to the baggage claim area. He encouraged himself to make the most of his time here in paradise.
As he waited for his bag at the carrousel, his attention was drawn to a handsome, albeit twitchy, young man holding a welcome sign and a bright, beautiful lei. His beautiful honey-brown eyes scanned the teaming crowd, obviously in search of someone. He was almost as tall as himself, and broad in the shoulders. He had golden sunkissed skin, and barely-controlled brown hair bleached almost blond by the sun and sea. For a second, he felt envious of the person this man was there to greet.
When the young man turned in his direction, he almost choked in surprise. There, on the sign the guy was holding, was written his own name - D. Hale. The surprise was so great, he hadn’t realized they had locked eyes and the guy was making his way towards him, a huge smile on his stupidly-attractive face.
"E komo mai! Are you D. Hale?" the handsome stranger asked, his smile lighting up the room. All Derek could do was nod dumbly. Suddenly, Derek found himself in a huge bone-crunching hug with the colorful lei placed around his neck. "Aloha! Welcome to Hawaii! Usually this is accompanied with a double kiss on both cheeks, but that will get you a punch in the face by some guys... So, we can do the surf-bro hug & shake." The scent of the flowers was almost overwhelming. Derek's first impulse was to throw them off, until he noticed how many others around him were also wearing them. "Thank you. I don't mean to be rude here, but who are you?" Derek asked.
"Opps, sorry, I'm Stiles at your service, and this is your official lei greeting. I'm also paid to provide a transfer to your hotel,” he said hopefully. Stiles quickly took the opportunity to check the older man out. Derek was built, but not overly muscled, with a face created by a sculptor. The eyes were the crowning touch though… what color was that even? Just his luck, he finally finds a guy that’s totally his type, only to realize they’re unavailable. “Why are all the good ones always straight or married,” he thought to himself.
“I'm sorry, I didn't pay for any of this. There must be some sort of a mistake..." Derek went to remove the lei and give it back.
"Nope, no mistake!" Stiles said, placing his hand over Derek's and keeping the lei in place. His hands were as beautiful as the rest of him; and where their skin was touching, felt electric. "I was paid in full by a Peter Hale. A strange mix of emotions ran over the younger man's face as he explained. "…And he would be....?"
"Uncle. He's my super-inappropriate, crazy, soon-to-be dearly-departed uncle," Derek explained and Stiles seemed to relax slightly at the news.
"So then, he was actually being totally serious when he asked for me to wear a grass skirt, and nothing else today...Wow!" Stiles said, mostly to himself.
"Look, Stiles was it? I am so sorry that he put you up to all this. (Gesturing to himself with his hands) It's wonderful, but really unnecessary. I have a rental, so I don't need a transfer. I really love the lei though, it's gorgeous.”
“Thanks. I actually made it myself. I know orchids are more traditional, but I love the Plumeria so much better. I swear, I think I’m allergic to the orchid ones! I think the Plumeria smells more Hawaiian. Also, these are the red, pink, and yellow flowers, which are way rarer than the plain white. They grow wild out where I work, and I get to keep the $20 I'd usually spend at a lei stand... Opps, I probably shouldn't have said that part."
"No worries, my uncle can easily afford it. I'll make sure he pays you in-full and there's a nice tip in there for all your trouble," Derek said.
Stiles seemed sad that his services would not be needed any further, and he wouldn’t be seeing Derek again. His shoulders slumped dejectedly as he slowly walked away. He gave a tentative little wave that seemed almost shy as he dissolved into the busy bustle of the airport. Derek wondered if the kid had needed the money, before the arrival of his bag caught his attention.
Taking his small suitcase, he crossed traffic from the open-air airport to the rental car center across the street.
The only car available was a neon canary-yellow Camaro convertible. It was too flashy for his tastes, which usually ran to blacks and greys, but it seemed right for the tropical paradise he was in. And since he drove a similar one at home, there wasn’t a learning curve for the sexy sports car. He showed his contract to the attendant and drove out of the lot. Derek's mind drifted back to Stiles, and how the young man was so full of life and energy. He wasn’t hard on the eyes either. He was so deep in thought he must have missed a freeway entrance somewhere, because he found himself passing the front of the airport again. “Crap,” he admonished himself, “get your head in the game, Hale.”
Cursing himself for letting his mind wonder, he started to earnestly look for any road sign that would get him out to the highway. His eyes were drawn to a familiar figure on the sidewalk. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, because there at a bus stop ahead sat Stiles. He seemed stressed and was on his phone with someone. He did not notice as the flashy muscle car pulled up, and the darkly-tinted passenger window rolled down. He must not have been able to see clearly into the dark interior of the car with his yellow polarized shades. Between bites on his fingernails, he stated, "Stranger-danger dude, keep on rolling, I have a rape whistle and my dad’s a sheriff..." Derek barked out a laugh, and said "Hey there, Stiles wasn't it...?" The squeak he let out when he realized it was Derek was totally adorable. "Hey, do you need a ride somewhere? I obviously have plenty of room..."
Stiles stuck almost half his body through the open window in his excitement. "Oh man, Dude, you are a life-saver! That would be awesome! My jeep died... again. Anywhere in Waikiki would be great! I can crash with a friend while I figure out what to do about my Jeep, before I have to go back to work next week. I love the car by the way - it's so totally subtle. Perfect car for a stake-out… Are you compensating Derek, is this a desperate cry for attention?"
Derek laughed. "Thanks, I think… Great, glad to be of assistance, because I could obviously use a navigator. I really should have taken you up on your offer earlier," he said bashfully.
"Helping lost tourists is just one of the many awesome services I can provide," Stiles laughed waggling his eyebrows in a manner more dorky than sexy, unaware of the double-entendre he had just dropped. Or maybe he was aware... Derek got the sense that Stiles was much deeper, and far smarter, than he initially came across to others. With a few turns, Stiles had Derek on the Nimitz Highway and pointed towards Waikiki.
They had only gone about a mile, when Stiles said, "There a clown-shack up ahead. I sure could use some fries and a drink. How about you? I'm pretty sure you're dehydrated after that long flight?" When Derek looked at him like he was speaking archaic Russian, Stiles clarified, “You know, bro, a McDonald’s.”
“Sounds great, but I'm buying, since I'd literally be lost without you.” Derek stressed. After they placed their drive-thru order and while they were waiting on their food, Derek felt Stiles press close to him. He flinched on reflex and then felt bad for doing so. Stiles obviously considered personal boundaries unnecessary and passe. Stiles was playing with the convertible top controls. "Do you mind, I mean you are spending all this extra money for a convertible, you really should be getting the full experience." Derek felt dumb, since his own Camaro didn't have a convertible top, he'd almost forgotten about the one included on his rental. The top going down was like the release of a huge breath held far too long. The car was suddenly full of fresh air and sunlight, and didn’t feel so claustrophobic any longer.
"There! Much better, huh?" Stiles exclaimed. They got back on the road.
Derek tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he kept looking over as Stiles munched his fries and enjoyed as the wind tousled his sun-bleached hair. His carefree attitude was infective.
The car went through a seamy warehouse district, before hugging the coastline as they passed into the Marina. As they continued into the city, the buildings got fancier and fancier. For a small city, Honolulu had more than its share of shiny, tall skyscrapers. Derek’s job had taken him all over the world, and he had seen beautiful buildings in Asia, Dubai, and New York City in addition to ones back home in LA, and San Francisco. But Honolulu proudly held its own among all of them. It was as if architects had been given free reign to unleash their creativity over the skyline. There were ones covered in blue and gold glass, some curved as they reached for the sky, some even had holes through the middle of the buildings. Some looked futuristic and out of time and place, while others looked remotely Asian and Egyptian. All of them were built with one purpose in mind - to capture his attention, imagination, and dollars.
Stiles furiously yelled out highlights as they passed them. "Oh, this is the original marina that Gilligan and the castaways took off from for that ill-fated two-hour tour..." "This is the famous Aloha Tower, and It's still here that the cruise ships dock." "On your left is Chinatown, home of the best food in the city, especially if you are on a budget like me!" "That blue & white ‘Y’ shaped building ahead is the Ilikai, the hotel from the opening credits of Hawaii 5-O, both versions! If you squint, you can see Steve McGarrett up there on that balcony."
"Hey, you never said which hotel you were staying at...," Stiles asked. "The Moana Surfrider," Derek answered.
“Oooo, fancy-smancy! Are you loaded Derek? You can tell me; I can keep a secret." Stiles joked. Derek didn't find it funny. Yes, he was loaded, a combination of running an extraordinarily successful corporation along with his uncle, and a family tragedy he never talks about. Peter would have said they were simply ‘comfortable,’ but Peter was a snob. No matter how much he had, it never seemed to be enough for him. Derek especially didn’t like it known when meeting strangers and new people. People he might actually like, who he didn't want swayed by his money, looks, or power.
Derek read the signs on the storefronts as the car continued down Kalākaua Boulevard: Tiffany, Louis Vuitton, Ferragamo, Harry Winstead, Versace, Coach, Fendi, Cartier. He'd driven the strip in Las Vegas and Beverly Hills, and thought he was immune to it all, but Waikiki took excess, to a whole new level. He was starting to think he'd made a mistake in booking a vacation here. When they pulled up in front of the grand old hotel he was booked at, he was positive. The grand old hotel screamed opulence. Derek would never be invited to the White House, probably, but he imagined this must be what it’s like to pull up in front of it. The bellmen stood ready in their vintage red uniforms to assist with his car and luggage. Stiles was still playing tour guide and informed him "The Moana is considered the First Lady of Waikiki and is the original Waikiki hotel. She is 120 years old and is most famous for introducing the Hawaiian Isles to millions in an old-time radio program our grandparents probably listened to named 'Hawaii Calls.' It was recorded and broadcast from under the huge banyan tree on the beach side... Stars and politicians have walked these hallways. Hey, you okay there Derek? You look a little pale, Hale..."
"Wow, this place, It’s so ... Wow! It's just really not my style. This is what I get for letting my uncle make my reservations. This is totally his style, not mine." Derek said breathlessly.
"I'm really starting to wonder about this uncle... What's he like?" Stiles asked.
"A lot like this hotel...," Derek explained. A regal, cultured, grand facade that helps hides his true age, wooden, pretentious, and aloof. …and they both probably have termites if you dig deep enough." he laughed at his own joke. Peter deserved the ribbing; he took himself entirely too seriously.
Stiles laughed. "Thank god, for a moment there I thought you were going to call him ‘an old queen.’ If you want, I can suggest something that might be a little more to your liking. If you don’t like it better, we can come back here. I've stayed there in the past. and the company I work for uses them all the time to house VIP visitors and workers."
The hotel Stiles suggested was just a couple of blocks away, but a world away in the vibe it put out. The Queen Kapiolani stood at the very end of Waikiki, on the very foot of Diamond Head.
"I’ve got this covered, Derek. Just do what I say and we’ll be just fine. Here, put on my sunglasses and try to act like you’re famous ~ you know all stuck-up and conceited," Stiles instructed. “No stop that, you look constipated. Put more worthlessness and self-importance into it… Never mind. Just be yourself, with your looks and natural grumpiness, you'll be just fine." He approached one of the managers. "Hey Joe, I have a Hollywood actor here in need of a room, can you hook me up? I know it's last minute, but it would be great PR for the hotel. (wink wink ~ For someone who couldn’t actually wink, Stiles tended to do it a lot.) This new movie's going to make him huge! He'll be working out at the Ranch with us, so can you get him the Kami'aina discount? It will be on his personal card. Thanks, brah."
"I can get you a partial ocean view mini-suite, two queen beds with microwave and fridge. At the last moment like this, it's the best that I can do," the manager offered after checking the computer at the front desk.
"Le‘ahi facing? We'll take it, I mean he’ll take it! I mean that will be perfect, thank you, Joe. I owe you one." Stiles gave him one of his blinding smiles.
On the elevator, as they made their way up to the 18th floor, Derek chastised Stiles. "You didn't have to do that, you know. All those lies about me being an actor, and all that, my no-limit black credit card can usually get my foot through any door." Derek then felt bad for using his wealth in a way he promised himself he would not.
"I didn't lie," Stiles answered. "I told you to 'act famous.' You did. You were acting, ergo, making you an 'actor.' Also, 'thank you very much Stiles for getting me the great locals-only discount, and the awesome room'... Ungrateful much?! Mainlanders, are you sure you’re not actually famous because you’ve got the privileged prima-dona attitude down pat? And, by the way, where is all this actor-hate coming from? I'll have you know you are sharing this elevator with a real working actor!"
"Derek's mouth fell open, and he did a respectful impersonation of the Hawaiian state fish ~ the humuhumunukunukuāpuaʻa. "I'm afraid to ask, but are any of these movies safe-for-work?" Derek’s expressive eyebrows were able to make the intended innuendo plain as day.
"Oh, hardy-har har Hale. I actually do sell my body though, and my face, but it's all totally legal. I'm an extra, you know a meat-puppet for movies. I like to keep it old-school. Never liked saying I'm a background actor, sounds so pretentious. And, since you didn’t ask, I'm damn good at what I do! I'll have you know I've been in some of the biggest movies and tv shows of the past few years. I'm even kind of-credited, thank you very much! You, sir, are looking at pterodactyl victim number three in a little movie you may have heard of, even back on the mainland, called Jurassic World! The only thing fake about this guy is the tan. Someday soon you're going to actually see my real name up there on the silver screen. Until then, I do walk-ons, stunts, tours, and all kinds of odd jobs at the movie ranch here. I'm making myself totally indispensable until my big break finally arrives." Derek was certain that was all true. He had only known Stiles a few hours, and he already could not imagine a world without him in it.
"That's a spray tan? It looks so real." Derek said, running his thumb slowly down Stiles’ long neck pretending to check if it would rub off or not. He let go a self-satisfied smirk when it caused Stiles to shiver in the stagnant elevator. "It helps to have friends who do make-up for big movie stars. Yup, I'm as lily white as a klan rally and the sun does a total number on me. This allows me to fit in better and not look like such a Haole’. In addition, it helps hide all these birthmarks." he laughed depreciatingly.
"It's a really good look on you. I never would have guessed. But we haven't even seen the room yet…," Derek countered back, while opening the door with his card. He quickly shut up as he stepped into the bright, sunny room. It was spartan with every inch used to full potential, and had recently gone through a refresh and remodel. But what took his breath away was the view. Two entire walls of the room were floor to ceiling windows. To the west was San Souce and Waikiki Beach, and ahead of him ~ taking up all three of the huge southern windows which looked out over the balcony ~ was Diamond Head in all its splendor.
"See, told ya," Stiles laughed. “The absolute best views in Waikiki and at one-fourth what you would have paid at the Surfrider." Stiles threw the luggage on one of the beds, and held the door open to the balcony. Spread out below, Derek could see the Honolulu Zoo, the famous Waikiki Shell, Kapiolani Park, the Waikiki Aquarium, and Diamond Head was so clear he could see the tourists on the tip of the extinct volcanic crater in their colorful vacation outfits. "You did good kiddo. Or should I call you ‘Mr. Pterodactyl Victim Number Three from here on out?’" Derek praised.
"Go change out of those jeans and into some board shorts, and we'll go to Walmart and stock this place up." Stiles offered.
Derek did his fish impersonation again. "What?! Of course, we have Walmarts. What do you think we are, savages?" Stiles bumped shoulders with him on the balcony, " something’s still bothering you, out with it."
Derek took time to gather his thoughts, before answering. "Waikiki ~ It's just not what I expected, Stiles. All of this... All those high-end shops on the way here, it's not what I expected Hawaii to be. You know, the image that your brain creates... I was expecting more tropical paradise, less Vegas shopping mall."
“Derek, Waikiki is not Hawaii and Hawaii is NOT Waikiki. Lots of people make that assumption, and never get out of this artificial creation called Waikiki. I’ll take you to see something that will change your attitude. Let me show you something authentic before you make up your mind to hate us. Let me show you the real Hawaii."
It took extremely little time for Derek to change into some more comfortable clothes, splash some water onto his face, get the car from the valets and hit the road. Derek found getting out of Waikiki was not easy nor fast, but Stiles knew all the backroads and shortcuts that made it faster and easier. It was still a virtual maze of residential and retail roads that had to be navigated. It was intimidating, even for an experienced driver like Derek. All the signs that Waikiki had grown too fast and outgrown its own infrastructure were evident.
Soon they were on the Pali Highway, and quickly the high-density city fell away to tropical foliage, trees and vistas that allowed you to see up those magnificent verdant valleys. Every shade of green was represented, and it seemed like everything had a flower of some type on it. The bougainvillea exploded all around him in colors he had no idea existed - purples, oranges, yellows, reds, and hot pinks. They were just a few miles out of the city, but it felt like a whole new world. Nature was in control here, and Derek felt his unease begin to melt away. The smells, watching the play of the shadows and clouds on the mountains, felt almost prehistoric.
Beside him, Stiles was explaining how two of the jagged mountain ranges divided the island of Oahu into thirds. There were only a few tunnels which allowed cars to get from one side of the island to the other. Without the tunnels, getting around the small island would be much more difficult and take even longer.
Derek saw a sign approach warning of tunnels ahead and was looking forward to taking the car into them and through the massive volcanic mountains. However, Stiles had him take the exit just before they got to them. The vine-covered trees towered a hundred feet above them on both sides. The road wound up the mountain for a bit before opening into a parking lot filled with a few tour vans and rental cars.
The Nu'uanu Pali Lookout.
"Wow, it's a parking lot. I can happily go home now," Derek heckled Stiles. "Shut up and give it a chance. Now go pay the machine and don't let the chickens carry you away,” Stiles warned. Derek didn't understand the strange warning until he got to the self-serve machine that dispensed parking permits. First, just a couple of chickens had run out of hiding to see if Derek had brought them anything to eat. But, by the time he got back to the car, he was leading a virtual poultry parade. It wasn't only chickens though, because a few mangy cats had joined in as well. Stiles was laughing so hard; he was having a hard time holding his phone still enough to take a picture. Derek took the ribbing in stride. By the time they got to the walkway, the free-range birds had gone in search of new victims to shake-down.
The lookout was just a short distance from the parking lot. Derek could hear the winds howling way before he started to feel them. By the time they got to precipice, it felt like he was in a full-fledged hurricane. It was hard to stay completely vertical and felt like he was walking through an invisible blizzard. His hair was sticking straight up without the need for any product, but it still didn’t look half as ridiculous as Stiles' hair. He wished he was still wearing his tight jeans because it felt as if his phone and wallet were going to get blown out the pockets of his loose boardshorts. Thank God for Velcro. The wind alternated between inflating his shorts like weird balloons, to molding them so tight to his body that it left nothing to the imagination. Are high winds a valid defense against indecent exposure, he wondered? The view stopped him in his tracks. The entire windward side of Oahu spread out in front of him - hundreds of feet straight down! Above him, reaching up to heights of 3,000 feet were the jagged green-covered sharp ridges and cliffs of the Pali.
Derek found a plaque explaining how “Pali” meant "cliff" in Hawaiian, and how the Pali Lookout was the site of the Battle of Nu'uanu, where in 1795 King Kamehameha I united Oahu in a bloody battle that cemented his rule and power. There was a painting depicting the gruesome and vicious massacre. Stiles explained how this fierce battle claimed hundreds of native warriors lives, many of whom were forced off the Pali’s sheer cliffs to their deaths on the jagged rocks far below.
Stiles pointed out the opulent golf course far below, and the gardens and lake, the bay and the famous sandbar that runs through the middle of it, the bedroom communities of Kaneohe and Kailua, the Marine Base, and then pointed to the very furthest point away and said, "See those cliffs way out there at the end of the island? There, next to that little tiny island that looks like a Hershey's Kiss? That's where I work," he said proudly. His hand had been on Derek's shoulder, and he had yelled the information into his ear so to be heard over the screaming winds. It caused chills to run over him and goosebumps to break out on his arms. God, this young man had such an effect on him, Derek thought. He’d mostly dated women in his past, unsuccessfully, and was surprised to be having this strong a reaction over another guy. His history with women was disastrous if he was to be totally honest with himself – on an Irwin Allen scale of magnitude. But, he’d never met anyone quite like Stiles before.
“See that short strip of highway leading into those tunnels down there? That’s the new H-3. At 8.3 billion, it’s the most expensive highway project in American history. It’s only 15 miles long…, that’s $80 million a mile. See all the crevasses in the cliffs? When it rains, hundreds of small waterfalls appear, each one falling hundreds of feet, only to disappear as soon as the rains stop. It’s truly magical.”
Stiles showed Derek where to jump the safety fence and they walked down the old Pali Highway for quite a distance. "Can you believe that people used to drive old Model T's on this road?!" Stiles said shaking his head. "I don't think my Jeep could make it up here today, even when it's actually running well." They stopped at a shade-covered curve in the road that showed the lookout and the cliffs surrounding it, and Stiles asked Derek for his phone. He put their heads together and took a selfie so easily that it amazed Derek. He was sure the photo would show him drooling over Stiles' long graceful fingers. But, it was just a really great photo that made it look like they had been friends forever, and hadn’t just met that afternoon. "For Peter. To let him know you arrived all safe and sound."
As they walked back to the parking lot, Stiles pointed out a hidden trail that takes you along the sharp ridgeline and to the top of the Pali. “It’s way too windy today. We can try back later if you’re feeling suicidal,” Stiles quipped. They sadly left, only once they started to lose the light. Stiles talked him back down into Honolulu and then showed him some shortcuts to the Walmart in the business district downtown. Derek was sad to come back down from the coolness of the trees and mountains, to the heat, congestion, and noise of the city. He had felt at home in the mountains and trees, it reminded him of growing up near a nature preserve back home. All of which was lost now. It had felt good while it lasted, and he wished there was a way to lock that bittersweet feeling in his heart.
It didn't take them long to pick up ‘the necessities’ as Stiles called them. They consisted of alcohol - mostly beer, chips, POG (pineapple orange guava) juice, chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, and this weird local red & green popcorn. Derek could tell his trainer was going to kill him once he returned home. For his part, Derek tried to put a couple of healthy choices like fresh local fruits into the basket as well, along with some reef-safe suntan lotion. Once back at the hotel, it took no time at all for the two men to unload the car. Once everything was put away, they realized just how hungry they were.
Derek blurted out, "I'm famished, I imagine you are too. I just realized we haven't eaten all day except for your fries... Would you like to get something to eat?” At that point, he realized they’d spent the entire afternoon together. “I'm sorry, I've been occupying you all day, it's okay if you have anywhere you need to be. You have really gone above and beyond, and I truly appreciate you and your time."
“Dinner sounds great. Let’s go,” Stiles exclaimed. They rode the elevator to the third floor where there was a pool deck with an open air restaurant. The views of Diamond Head were spectacular. After reading the menu though, Stiles pulled Derek back into the elevator. “Friends don’t let friends buy $25 hamburgers.” They walked to the brand new Denny’s next door. Derek was touched. He had been on so many dates where someone had ordered the lobster, or prime rib, or the oldest bottle of wine, whatever the most expensive thing was on the menu, knowing he could afford it. Whatever the final bill, Derek’s account had probably made that much in interest in the time it took them to have dinner. It was a nice change of pace having someone care about and not use him. A plan began to build in his mind. He excused himself, and asked Stiles to order for him. Derek Googled a few statistics while alone in the bathroom, readying himself for when he got back to the table.
The food arrived pretty quickly after Derek sat back down. He’d been expecting a sandwich, or some sort of breakfast platter. Was he really hoping Stiles had ordered him a Grand Slam, what was wrong with him?! What was set in front of him, though, threw him for a loop. Two large scoops of white rice, with a huge ground beef patty sitting on top. The entire plate was smothered in sauteed onions and brown gravy. Crowning it all, were two fried eggs, over easy. It had all the makings of a heart attack waiting to happen. “From your new friends, up on the Pali,” Stiles joked.
“Hey, don’t look at it like that! You’re going to hurt its feelings. It’s Loco-Moco! It’s a local favorite, all the surfers eat it. You’re going to love it! Carbs and worthless fats. Trust me, it’s just what you need after that long flight. Have I steered you wrong yet?” Stiles coaxed, poking his finger in Derek’s chest. Derek took a tentative bite, and had to admit it was really good. It was the perfect thing after the full day that they had. When they were about halfway through, Derek set his flatware down. He looked over at Stiles, and said, “Stiles, I just want to thank you again for all your help today.”
“Aww, it was nothing really. Happy to be of service.” The younger man answered, with a little two-fingered salute. “Can’t have first-timers getting a bad impression of our little island home.”
“I know your Jeep is in the repair shop, and you happen to be off this week. I have a proposition for you…” Derek tentatively asked. As usual, Stiles made everything into a joke. “Awesome, because I do love to be propositioned. You have my undivided attention, big guy.” He said while blinking his stupidly long eyelashes rapidly.
Derek was now flustered and having trouble remembering just what he had wanted to ask. “As I was saying, I know your Jeep’s in for repairs and you’re off duty. I was hoping that you would be my tour guide for the week. In return, I’ll pay for the repairs to your Jeep, and in-addition pay you $600 for the week. Is that something you’d be interested in?” (Please say yes. Please say yes, he thought.)
He had caught Stiles by surprise, and mid-bite. “Wow, that’s really generous Derek. But, you don’t have to pay me, I’d be happy to show you around Oahu. Besides, I feel like we’re friends now, and friends don’t let friends…”
“Your time and knowledge are valuable, Stiles. Don’t sell yourself short. At the very least, I want to compensate you for your time and trouble,” Derek explained, using the voice he used for business deals. “But Derek, you don’t even know how much the repairs will be on my Jeep? It’s kind of a rolling death trap to be honest… So, one or the other, you’re being way too generous.” Stiles replied. “Nope, all or nothing.” Derek countered.
“Okay, I’ll do it for $500 for the week. Final offer.” Stiles agreed, looking like a huge weight had been lifted from his broad shoulders.
“I don’t think that’s how negotiations are supposed to work,” Derek laughed, very happy that Stiles had agreed to spend the week with him. “You’re supposed to go up, not down.” Stiles gave him that strange look once again.
“Where did you come up with that number anyway, Der? That’s an awfully specific number to pull out of your as… nowhere?” Stiles questioned.
Derek could feel himself blush. “While I was in the bathroom, I Googled the average wage for a tour guide in Hawaii. It’s $33,000 a year by the way…”
“Or, $600 a week,” Stiles laughed.
“Or $16 an hour.” Derek laughed back.
“Minus meals, tips and gratuities, of course,” Stiles dropped-in like a hammer. Derek stopped laughing, and regarded the intelligent young man with a new-found respect. “Now that, Stiles, is how you negotiate,” he said proudly.
Derek paid for dinner, and as he was leaving a tip noticed Stiles surreptitiously pocket all the jelly packets at the table and hide them in his pocket.
After dinner, they walked the few steps down to the beach, where Derek took his sandals off let himself feel the warm water and sand. The night was perfect, and the trade winds felt incredible. They sat on the grass under a grove of palm trees and watched the reflected lights from the hotels sparkle in the water. The waves breaking on the shore where hypnotically relaxing. Stiles pointed out the two ABC Stores on the corner telling him anything he might need can be found inside. And, lucky for him, there were ABC Stores about every hundred feet in Waikiki.
When they got back to the room, Derek offered Stiles one of the local beers they had purchased on their supply run. They sat outside on the balcony, relaxing for the first time that day it seemed. They listening to the waves breaking far below, and the occasional strange cry or howl from the zoo. It was surreal. Derek took the opportunity to ask the question that had been nagging him all day. “So, Stiles, how did you end up living here in paradise?”
Stiles’ eyes lost their sparkle and life for a second. He paused, gathering up his thoughts, “It’s a long tragic story, full of betrayal, lies and heartache…. Are you sure you really want to know, Derek?” he asked in return.
“I do.”
“I fell in love with someone I met in college back in California,” he began. “I thought it was the real thing, you know ~ the forever thing. What can I say, I was young, stupid and naïve. We were together through my sophomore year. I followed hi… them out here after those two years, only to find they were already married. Not only that, but married to some local power broker I couldn’t compete with. It had been real to me, to them it had just been a fling. But, I was stuck. I had used all my money transferring out here to the University of Hawaii. One of the hardest things about it all is being trapped on this tiny 600-square-mile island with them, I see them all the time, and it’s just like that first day when they slammed the door in my face and said they never wanted to see me again. It ripped my heart out of my chest… They tried to hook up with me again several times since then, but Stiles is not into truples or threesomes, and he sure as hell isn’t a homewrecker, referring to himself in the third person. I was lucky I lived in the dorms at that time. It’s also how I got into working background. I could set my own schedule and work whenever I wanted or needed. Days when I didn’t have class, I’d be working on-set somewhere. The money’s good and you meet the best people. You never know what to expect, and everyday is an adventure. Somedays you are fighting dinosaurs or pirates, the next day running from giant apes, drug dealers, the Yakuza mafia, or zombies.”
Derek was listening to the words that Stiles wasn’t saying. How much of a toll the break-up and betrayal had taken on him, the intentional use of non-gender specific pronouns. He was hurt that Stiles didn’t trust him enough, yet, to be completely honest and out with him. He would find a way to fix that.
The combination of the beer and jet lag were beginning to hit Derek hard. He excused himself after almost falling asleep out on the balcony. Stiles stopped at the door and grabbed Derek’s phone from the nightstand. With a few short keystrokes he had entered his number for Derek, and sent Derek’s to himself. As he was getting ready to leave, Derek remembered that his Jeep was dead, and the Ranch was all the way on the other side of the island. He expressed his concerns to Stiles, offering the second bed to him for the night. Stiles gave him a long, fond, and considered look, before saying, “Dude, you barely know me. You are way too trusting. My Dad, the Sheriff, would want to have a serious talk with you! I could be a psycho killer for all you know…”
“I’m a very good judge of character, ...nowadays.” Derek said, only slightly blushing. “Besides, the chances of two psycho-killers in the same room are pretty astronomical…” It was Stiles’ turn to make the fish face.
“I was actually on the way to a vacation rental I manage here in Waikiki. I need to get it ready for the new guests tomorrow evening. I can crash there, while I change out and wash the sheets and towels and clean the place up. Besides, I have an itinerary I need to create for my favorite new customer…” (Stiles attempted to wink yet again, failing miserably.)
“Jesus kid, how many jobs do you have?!” Derek asked, half out of shock, half out of concern.
“This is Hawaii, dude. Everyone has at least three jobs.” Stiles said as he walked out. “By the way, enjoy sunrise. The sun comes up right over Diamond Head. You are going to have a really spectacular view in the morning.”
“No way.” Derek sighed. “I plan to sleep-in late, I am on vacation after all.”
Derek didn’t hear Stiles laughing as he shut the door. The last thing he did before closing his eyes, was send the photo from the Pali to Peter, saying “Aloha, arrived safe and sound.” Before powering down the phone, he gazed at the photo of the two of them together, saying “Goodnight Stiles,” before sleep overtook him.
~ To be continued ~
Dictionary
Aloha ~ Hello, Love, Goodbye
E Komo Mai ~ Welcome
Haole~ Visitor, usually white
Humuhumunukunukuāpuaʻa ~ Hawaiian State Fish
Kami’aina~ Native, born of the land
Le’ahi ~ Hawaiian name for Diamond Head
Mahalo~ Thank you