10001 Nightmares Party

[Fic] of a hummingbird in flight (The Attic - A. M. Burrage)

Summary:

Naturally, Derek had never forgotten Stanley Forbes.

Notes:

attempt at sugar daddy au, take 2. shockingly little sugar daddying in this one, too.

...i'll try again later! :DDD

(title from the song Angel by Poets of the Fall)

Work Text:

It was of course only natural, Derek assumed, that upon the day he finally saw Forbes again, Derek was covered in mud and stacking bricks on a construction site while it rained, shivering from the cold and a faint headache building behind his eyes in the midst of it all. He stilled, as he saw that familiar face about to cross the road, freezing upon the brick wall he was building, breath hitching in his dry throat. And then, naturally, Forbes turned his head in Derek's direction, and must have seen him, for he stilled, too. Derek could only stare for what must have been hours, until the call of the site's supervisor shook him out of it, and he forced himself to go back to work.

Naturally, Derek had never forgotten Stanley Forbes.

He had, even, had an embarrassing period during which he hassled Gladys for information about Forbes, to the extent that she now included it in her every letter to tease him. He, as her dutiful younger brother, did not say anything about this, of course.

Then she might stop.

Forbes was gone the next time that Derek looked up, and Derek frowned, staring at the stop he'd stood for an awkwardly long time. Then, he brushed the back of his hand over his burning forehead and got back to work, needing the money for the rent due this weekend. He frowned at that thought, to, stomach growling in it's aching emptiness, but Derek needed to save every penny he had.

Things did not used to be like this, of course. But Gladys and Telford had sold the Moat House as quickly as possible after the incident with... those things, and had subsequently lost much of their money on the hasty sale. They had to fire all their servants, and were forced to buy a much smaller house that nonetheless cost far too much money to be worth it. And they paid all his expenses for him all through college, and now they had little children of their own to support; it was only fair, in light of that, for Derek to make due on his own. It was not like he was on the street, after all, his room was perfectly acceptable and his work was commendable; he just... had a little trouble now and then.

But he'd managed without needing to take a loan yet, and he did not want to break this streak. He had the suspicious that should he be forced to go that far, it would only make the future on his own even harder.

Tired, he stumbled away from the construction, eyes on the ground. There was a cat with a litter that loitered near here, and if he was lucky he'd get to pet her. She'd even let him pet her kittens, once, and he grew warmer at just the thought, straightening up somewhat and walking right into a man. "My apologies," said Derek as he looked up and saw Forbes, right here in front of him. He froze, and could hardly breathed as Forbes smiled at him, tipped his hat, and said:

"It is no matter, of course, old thing."

Derek swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, the new stinging in his eyes, and nodded. "Yes. I. Right. Pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Forbes. May I ask what you are doing out here?"

Forbes looked over Derek; a studying kind of look that made it difficult to swallow air, and Derek was not precisely ashamed of himself; it was honest work, after all, and he liked the puzzles of it, how he could fit one brick to another and gain a whole a wall out of it, but at this moment, covered in mud and stomach growling incessantly, lips chapped and skin tanned from the hours of work in the blazing sunlight, clothes drenched from today's rain, he was rather aware, more than ever, that Forbes was an impeccable gentleman. Of good standing, with a good job and good reputation, and career steadily on the rise; Forbes was, Derek thought, the kind of man that requested admiration just stepping into a room, and of course there was naught Derek could do but obey.

Forbes smiled, and it was as if the clouds parted above him. "I am here for business," he said, and of course, thought Derek. "It's rather of a personal nature," said Forbes, then, and Derek blinked, attempting to parse the statement for a clue as to it's meaning and rather failing to discern one.

"Is it?" he asked, instead, smiling a little uneasily at Forbes. It occurred to him that he was hungry and tired and still had a headache, and if he did not get warm before the fireplace soon he might very well develop a cold, too, which might make him miss rent. And he couldn't miss rent. He was on good terms with his landlord, but that did not usually amount to much, in the end, he knew.

"It is," confirmed Forbes, and took a step closer and Derek did not step back. They were suddenly so very close, and he wetted his lips, looking into Forbes' eyes until he grew dizzy. Forbes said, "You must have been hard at work today."

"I was," said Derek, eyebrows furrowing somewhat.

"Let me take you out to dinner," said Forbes, then, and Derek's eyes widened. And Fores---Forbes stared at him, eyes widening as well, the tiniest, most handsome blush spreading over the tops of his cheeks, and Derek's heart skipped a beat in his chest. Oh no, he thought, and yet did nothing to stop it, to even slow it down. "I know a restaurant nearby that has been highly recommended," said Forbes, "If you'd allow me the honor."

"Yes," said Derek, before his mind could catch up with his words. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started to work in the direction Forbes had nodded, and Forbes quickly fell into step with him. It was stil early enough in the eve for the city to be bustling, and Derek drew in on himself as several more well-dressed people, who were not covered in mud and smelling of rain and smoke, hustled past them. "Will you be in town long?" Derek asked after they'd walked a block in companionable silence, unable to keep from glancing at Forbes out of the corner of his eyes.

"Until Monday," said Forbes, and Derek could not stop from frowning, drawing his shoulder up a little. He nodded, but assumed his emotions must be far too obvious, because Forbes frowned as well, and leaned a little closer, nudging their shoulders together. IT was not the touch of skin that Derek had dreamed of, but it was nevertheless a warmth that shot through him like fire, and Derek shivered in his cold clothes.

At the restaurant, they got a table right away. "I booked ahead," said Forbes upon Derek's questioning gaze, and Derek nodded, biting the bottom of his lip. Forbes stilled, then, and Derek's stomach swooped in a very distinctive manner, but he said not a word of it, sitting down and paying hardly any attention to the menu of the waiter taking their orders, his mind spinning in unnameable circles. HE could hardly think of a thing to say, with Forbes across from him in the restaurant's semi-darkness, lit up only by the candlelight burning bright between them. Derek's breath was raspy in his own ears, and it was a mystery to him how Forbes did not hear the frantic beating of his heart.

"This is lovely," said Derek after the meal, once he'd regained the ability to form words. He licked his lips, swallowing the last taste of the gravy and the wine, and he drew the napkin delicately across his face. "And I fear I am covered in dried mud. However did you convince them to let me in?"

Forbes cocked his lips into a most handsome smirk, Derek's stomach clenching tight, and said, "Personal connections." Then, with a gaze so intense as to intimidate, Forbes leaned over the table and after a barest second of hesitation, picked up Derek's hand and held it in his own. Derek could only stare, breathless and frozen, and Forbes lowered his voice. "I hope this is not too forward of me. It is only. I saw you today, you see, and I realized---"

"That I am lonely, I suppose," said Derek, and it was far kinder than the alternative, the one that had spun through his mind the second he'd seen Forbes, and it was cruel of him, wasn't it? Only, he could not help but think that Forbes would help him, no questions asked. Would know what he needed without Derek being forced to explain, to put into words the series of events that led to his current lot in life. Derek bit his lips, and chastised himself for the stinging in his eyes. It would be of no assistance, he knew.

Forbes winced, but did not let go of Derek's hand, and Derek could still not look away. Had he ever held anybody's hand, he wondered, suddenly unable to remember anything but the heat of Forbes' palm, the strength of Forbes' fingers, the faint pressure as those fingers swept over his skin. He could hardly breathe, unable to even think, and at last Forbes said, "I am sorry, that we never met again."

Laughing somewhat wetly, Derek managed to at last regain sense and pull his hand back. "It is no matter. We hardly knew each other, old chap."

Forbes winced again, and Derek's chest drew taut, his lungs aching almost as much as his heart. He did not wish to hurt Forbes, did not wish to remind either of them of that horrid time. Derek was simply... well, he was lonely, he supposed. Lowering his eyes, he rested his hands on his lap and cleared his throat. "My apologies," he offered, and it was a faint offer but Forbes nodded, straightening. "Are you liking the city so far?" Derek asked, a distraction so obvious he nearly flinched.

But Forbes said, "Yes, it has been lovely. And I truly am so happy to see you." And Derek could not help but blush somewhat; he was doubtlessly too covered in much for it to matter much, he supposed. Forbes leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice. "Truly, I really-"

"I need to go home," said Derek, and Forbes silenced, brows furrowing. His gaze was searching, and Derek could hardly hold it, knowing full well he was being rude and had no reason to. He was simply... well, he didn't even know. Wiping his lips with the napkin, Derek rose. "It was a delight to see you, truly. I have missed you, too. But we are... we do not..."

"Let me walk you home," said Forbes, and Derek nodded, throat dry. He cleared it somewhat with a soft cough as they got outside, and shivered in the cold. Forbes looked at him, and his eyes were deep, dark, searching, still. Derek knew not what he looked for, or if he found it, but Forbes at last nodded, a determined expression on his face. "There," he said, nodding toward a second-hand clothes ship. "We'll pick you something up for the cold, first."

"I can't-" afford that, Derek meant to say, but bit down on it in the end, slumping beside Forbes and following him into the shop. It was not a big shop, but it had a few thicker coats that fit him, and Forbes grabbed the most expensive one and paid for it before Derek could gather his wits about him. He stared at the coat as Forbes draped it over his shoulders, leaving it hanging loose because Derek hardly had the presence of mind needed to force his arms into the sleeves. Besides, he thought, caressing the surface of it and stepping up beside Forbes outside the shop, he did not wish to stain it this soon.

He really needed a bath, Derek thought, and made the mistake of looking into Forbes eyes as he did so, and his mouth dried as his mind spun away from him. Clearing his throat, coughing, Derek took a few quick steps in his home's direction and Forbes wasted no time in catching up.

"Thank you," said Derek, once he'd banished those images from his mind. And then he thought about them once more at the reminder, and blushed something fierce, he was sure. "For the coat," he added, like Forbes required a reminder.  Derek's blush grew brighter, and he pulled his shoulders up to his ears as he carefully avoided looking at Forbes, lest his mind grew dull again.

"It is no imposition," said Forbes, soft and gentle, and something hot swept through Derek's chest, burning deep. He had to look at Forbes, then, had to see his expression, know his thoughts. And Forbes said, eyes so gentle Derek could not react, "I have missed you, so."

And there was nothing Derek could say to that.

He glanced back at Forbes as he opened his door, stepping into his tiny room in the old boarding house. It was dark, and swept toward the candle at the bedside table, lighting it with quick fingers and holding it up before his chest as he turned to look at Forbes once more. "This is it," he said, and straightened his back. And he smiled. "Thank you for accompanying me home, old chap, but I can take it from here."

"I have no doubt," said Forbes, and his voice was rough. Derek blinked, and Forbes exhaled a huge gust of wind, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He pulled his gloves off, put his handsome hat on the hat-rack, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, pulling the tie down to display his throat. Derek's stomach clenched, and he wetted his lips, watching silently as Forbes said, "But I must confess to a certain desire to take care of you. I fear I-" Forbes shut his mouth, frowned, and took a step toward Derek. "I do not want to leave you again."

"You- I was the one who-" Derek snapped his teeth shut on his protests, Forbes's gaze clearly conveying it was of no use. "You owe me nothing," said Derek instead, and looked away, out the window, into the setting sun.

"But I desire to give you-" and Forbes stopped again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away, and Derek took a step closer on reflex. Suddenly, he realized, raising his hands to, to, to---well, he did not even know, truly---he wanted to touch, wanted to know every one of Forbes' thoughts, and he did, most of all, not want Forbes to leave. He had not seen Forbes in years, and still, he had an instinctive fondness for the man that appeared to have only grown in his absence.

"Let us meet again tomorrow," offered Derek, and his hands skimmed the coat he still wore instead of touching Forbes. His room was not very warm; in truth the building was not very warm at all. Forbes nodded, turning back toward him.

"We shall," said Forbes, and smiled, and it was a boyish sort of smile, the kind of thing so full of simple joy that it brought upon one a specific sort of breathlessness. Derek could not help but smile back, could not help but allow his own emotions to shine through his expression, and Forbes in turn grew still, looked at him with such openness and such gentleness, that Derek could not think. Derek's chest squeezed, and he finally managed to tear his gaze away, to take a step back, and it was for the best, he thought, or he'd surely do something unwise. "Good eve, old thing," said Forbes, and rested his hands briefly on Derek's shoulder before he left. Derek did not manage to say goodbye—indeed he did not manage to say a word.

He stared at the closed door after Forbes was gone, and at last collapsed on his bed. Stared at the ceiling, smoothing his hands over the soft coat. It was not the most expensive thing—truthfully he'd owned better coats before—but it was a gift from Forbes and just the thought of that made his heart tighten, his breath freeze.

In the morning, Derek went through his routine in a haze. He ate breakfast, he went to work, he worked, and his mind did not move on from Forbes the entire time. It was foolishness, of course, to actually expect something just because Forbes said they would meet again. They did not even set a time, or decide upon a place to meet. So Derek knew full well that ought not to expect anything and yet. Well, and yet he did. Because it was Forbes, after all, and Derek's childish heart still thought that Forbes would protect him, would take care of him, would be on his side and help him. Would not break his word.

And so Derek looked out over the streets every hour from his wall, studying every face and body, and his stomach grew a bit denser every time it was not Forbes, after all. He bit his lip, and shook his head, and forced himself to concentrate.

"Mr. Wilson, if I might have a moment of your time," said Forbes behind him, and Derek spun on his heel, hand rising to his heart as it stopped in his aching chest. He stared at Forbes; it was almost night and the mill and bustle of the city was starting to calm down. Derek had worked overtime, in part to get some more money for rent and in part to distract himself from Forbes, and yet here Forbes was, standing before him, handsome as ever. And Forbes smiled, now, upon catching Derek's attention; he flicked his hat and grinned wide, and said, "Might I humbly request a walk in the park, Mr. Wilson?"

"Yes," breathed Derek, speaking before his mind had time to interrupt. And he could not regret it; not when Forbes instantly lit up, his eyes glittering in the streetlamps, and Derek's heart skipped another beat.

The park was lovely, truth be told, and yte Derek could barely concentrate on it. Every few seconds he glanced at Forbes, and he was caught so many times it ought to stayed his hand, and yet he was never able to cease, doing so over and over again. It did not help that Forbes did not seem to mind; Forbes smiled every time he caught Derek looking, and he caught Derek looking a, to eb quite frank, embarrassing amount of times. Not that Derek seemed quite able to stop, and to also be truthful he rather did not desire to.

Under a streetlamp casting yellow light, they stopped walking and turned toward each other. Derek raised his head high, stared into Forbes's eyes in a searching manner and found only a peculiar sort of softness there, found only kindness and gentleness, and Derek knew then that he could not continue this halfhearted approach. He straightened, and he rocked a bit on his heels, nerves spinning through his stomach as he said, "What is it that you want from me, Mr. Forbes?" and forced himself to sound as serious as he could, forced himself not to smile, to not soften it. He could not keep doing this. If Forbes was only in town a for a bit and would then leave forever, he needed to know. There was no sense in letting these emotions bloom if they would never even see each other again.

"I suppose I would like to be your friend," said Forbes at last, and his expression was serious.

"Is that all?" Derek could nevertheless not help but ask, his heart thumping in his ears and his breath raspy in his dry throat. He stared into Forbes' eyes and saw them widen, saw them glisten, saw Forbes wet his lips. Derek at last turned his gaze away, turned his head away, too. "Is that all you want from em?" he asked again, raspier, hoarser, his voice betraying his intentions so clearly it must surely be obvious to even the roses what he meant.

Forbes coughed, and grabbed Derek's hand before he could turn entirely away, dragging Derek's attention back toward him. "It is not—all," said Forbes, voice low and gaze dipping to the cobblestone ground before he raised it and stared into Derek's eyes with an intensity that caught Derek's breath squarely in his throat. "It is not all. I want—whatever you are willing to give me, I suppose."

"And if I want to—"

"Yes," said Forbes, raising his voice and exclaiming, "Yes, if you desire that from me, with me, I will give it you, gladly. I would give you all that you want, Derek," he said, and Derek bti his bottom lip, blinked his eyes until the stinging went away. He brushed a hand over his eyes at last, was unable to keep in a rough breath that betrayed his emotions. Forbes drew him in closer, and in a move so suave that Derek almost laughed, embraced him. Forbes was warm, surrounding him. His arms were strong, and he was nearly as tall as Derek, thinner doubtlessly thanks to all the brick-work Derek had done recently. He could feel Forbes breathing, Derek realized; could feel the rise and fall of Forbes' chest, and the movement cascaded down into his body, as well, and when they breathed in rhythm it dislodged something in Derek's chest and at last he felt like he could move again, like there was a part of him in contact with reality once more; with the air, and the red leaves dancing on the wind, the chill that struck his cheeks so unerringly. He did not wish to let go, he thought, staring up into Forbes eyes. Did not wish Forbes to let him go.

Derek's breath was raspy, and his gaze teary—he could hardly convince his eyes to blink, did not want to miss a moment of Forbes's expression. It occurred to him, then, that they hardly knew each other, for all that they had experienced together. For all that Forbes had done for him. And this seemed, to Derek, utterly unconscionable; to not know Forbes, to not know all his hgates and loves, his likes and dislikes, his annoyances and his dreams—this all seemed utterly despairing.

He wanted to know Forbes, and he wanted to be known, in turn. Wanted every inch of him to be peeled back, all of him to be displayed in truth, all the ugly parts and the beautiful impossible to separate. He wanted to Forbes to know all of him, to—to love all of him, in truth.

Exhaling, Derek hugged Forbes tight. He felt his bones under the clothes, felt the muscles that were strong, comfortable under his grip, and he closed his eyes. Rested his head upon Forbes' shoulder, inhaled his scent as deep as he could, and he felt Forbes shudder under his hands, felt Forbes grip on him tighten in reply. "Really?" whispered Derek into Forbes' ear, and a shiver wreaked through Forbes like an avalanche. Derek could not help but grin at that, stomach fluttering almost as much ass his chest. He turned his head enough to glance up at Forbes', and saw the dark of Forbes's eye, the set of his jaw, and knew it to be true. Really, he thought to himself, and grinned.

Forbes walked Derek home that eve, as well. They spent the evening together, too; Derek's home did not have much to offer, but the company more than made up for it. And when he held Forbes' hand and Forbes smiled at him, a bit shyly yet with so much obvious affection, and Derek's heart skipped yet one more beat... well, truth be told, Derek rather wished the eve would never end.

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#Fandom: The Attic #Post Type: Fic #Rating: Teen #Status: Complete #Tag: Post-Canon #Tag: Sugar Daddy #WC: 1000-5000