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One of Derek's favorite things to do is watch.
Though always having considered himself to be quite observant, it seems to be a much more prevalent habit he has picked up from Hastur. It's not uncommon for Avery to find him staring off, simply observing. It had been alarming at first to Avery, finding his then-friend halfway unresponsive. The first time it had happened, Derek had been drenched in ice cold water - which, while effective to snapping him out of it, was a rather rude awakening. Hastur, of course, finding the physical sensations of the body It inhabited to be much duller than Its host had just experienced, found this very funny.
( Avery was so lucky that he was already planning to polish his armor that day. He was also lucky that Derek would rather swim in an ice-cold sea than hear out Hastur's plan for a revenge ice bath. )
It's a sunny day. The first one for a while; the first properly nice day so far this year. Just warm enough for the two (or- rather the three, considering Hastur) to get out of the house without being drenched in sweat or being baked alive by the sun. Avery had been complaining about the rain streak for some time. Particularly of how due to the lack of decent weather, he wouldn't be able to care for the brand-new seeds he'd so carefully laid into the ground.
( "It is unrealistic of you to operate under the assumption that the rain will never go away," Hastur had said at one point after very suddenly (and rudely, if you were to ask Derek) taking control of his host's body. Avery had simply grumbled in response, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the rain-streaked window as if watching it would make the rain magically disappear.
"Can't you just-" Avery gestured vaguely, sitting back up to face It, "Tell me when it'll be sunny again?"
Hastur hummed at the suggestion, faux thoughtfulness gracing Derek's face, before he smiled wide, "No."
Avery groaned and planted his face into a pillow as Hastur laughed and handed control back to his host.
"You know weather apps exist, right?"
Avery screamed into the pillow. )
That, of course, led up to today: a beautiful 64 degrees Fahrenheit morning, sun just barely rising above the horizon painting the landscape a stunning glowing tangerine. It's 8:30 when Derek awakens, bright sun shining on his face.
( Derek almost panics at the silence that swallows the house before Hastur whispers 'The Vessel is outside.' Derek frowns at the nickname despite how many times he's heard it, but appreciates the reassurance nonetheless. )
Avery had undoubtably gotten up early, likely already in the backyard already tending to his garden. The motivation of seeing Avery is enough to get him up.
He brews coffee in the old coffee maker he and Avery had thrifted at some point, pouring a mug for both himself and his partner. His own being mostly black coffee with minimal creamer in it. Avery's mug, of course, had been made just how Derek knows he likes it: an insane amount of cream and sugar with a side of coffee. He'd be lying if he said he didn't grimmace at the thought of how sweet the concoction had to be. Though, all that mattered was that Avery enjoyed it, he supposed.
The steam from the two mugs of coffee waft into the morning air, catching on rays of sunlight and intermingling with fog which had settled into the valley. Derek sits on the small patio facing the backyard, setting Avery's mug at the seat across from him. He flinches at the cold of the metal furniture, still wet from morning dew.
'Look at him,' is all Hastur says, voice quiet. Almost gentle. And Derek does.
All Derek can do is watch.
Avery is knelt at the bed of his plants, soil-stained hands sifting through earth. He pulls out the weeds which have encroached on his plants' space, tossing them in a pile off to the side. He's clearly talking, Derek strains to catch some fragment of it.
"Oh, you've grown quite a bit," He smiles at one of the tiny buds barely having breached the earth. Still, Avery notices.
He checks each inch of the garden carefully, gasping excitedly when he notices a new bud peeking through, talking to it about how happy he is to see it as he tends to the dirt around it.
And all Derek does is watch.
Hastur is uncharacteristically quiet in Derek's mind, clearly deep in some thought Derek is not privy to. There is no malice in the silence, no kniving scheme about how he'll get to Avery, Derek knows. He isn't sure how he knows this, but he does, so he lets the King tend to himself, setting his own sights back on the man just a few yards from him.
( There's a day where Avery pauses from perusing an online shop of gardening supplies and slowly looks over to Derek who is curled up on the couch next to him reading. Derek raises an eyebrow as soon as he feels Avery's eyes on him.
"What's your favorite flower?"
Derek shuts his book to look over at Avery, thumb shut inside to keep his page. He hums, thinking.
"Tulips are always quite pretty," he decides, shrugging, "I guess I haven't really given it much thought."
Hastur, on the other hand, answers immediately, 'Blue Violets.'
"God, you are specific. Also, that was a question for me, not you," Derek mumbles before translating for Avery, "… Hastur says blue violets."
Avery quietly nods at the two's imput giving an awkward thumbs up as Derek pulls himself back to his book and Avery begins typing at his computer oncemore.
…
When Avery shows off his spoils from the shop upon their delivery a week later, neither Derek nor Hastur opt to comment on the packets of colorful tulip and blue violet seeds that are spread out on the counter. Despite this, Derek can almost sense a twinge of awe from Hastur at the inclusion of It's reccomendation. )
'He's so… delicate,' Hastur comments, quietly observing through Derek's eyes. There has never been a time where Hastur has been as.. careful as It is now. As if one wrong move from It would ruin the serenity of the moment somehow. Derek can feel It choose It's words carefully, mulling over thoughts instead of speaking without fear of consequence. It's strange, feeling Hastur's hesitance, an almost quiet anxiety.
'He always is,' Derek responds, 'It's how he is.'
'I know.'
The two watch Avery stand, wiping the dirt from his hands onto his jean shorts, and puffing a loud sigh. He sheilds his eyes from the sun using the cleaner of his two hands as he looks up to the house, meeting Derek's eyes instantly. He waves excitedly, beaming up at him. Derek smiles softly at him, raising his mug and gesturing his head to the mug sat next to him. And then Avery is running to join him.
'The Prince doesn't see it,' Hastur hums, 'How… beloved.. he is.' The statement is not an accusation, nor a premonition. This is not a sure thing, not as long as Derek is alive. His mind gets caught on the new nickname Hastur has referred to him as.
Yes. His prince. Their prince, perhaps, in another life.
( 'Why not this one?' he thinks automatically. Hastur doesn't respond. )
'Someday he will,' Derek responds quietly, propping his elbows on the table, palms holding his head as he leans slightly forward. Now this is a sure thing - He doesn't need any form of bullshit infinite knowledge to know that - not when he's here, not when Hastur's here.
( Hastur scolds him over that last part, something about infinite knowledge being a gift. For once in his life Derek doesn't pay it any mind. )
It's then when Avery joins them on the patio, collapsing in the chair next to Derek with an overdramatic sigh. He looks to him - to both of them - and beams at him as he takes a gulp of his now cold coffee. He sets the mug down with a heavy clunk and speaks with all the pride and bubbly excitement in the world:
"The tulips and violets are starting to sprout!"