[Fic] this old house of ours (The Attic - A. M. Burrage)
- Fandom: The Attic - A. M. Burrage
- Pairing: Stanley Forbes/Derek Wilson
- Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon
- Word-Count: 836
- Status: Complete
- First Published: 2024-12-09
- Disclaimer: I do not own The Attic - A. M. Burrage and make no profit from this—it is solely a hobby for fun, with no financial compensation.
Summary:
Years had passed, of course. Forbes had moved on, of course. He had found himself in normalcy once more, of course.
Notes:
written for whumpcember 2024 - Day 9: Shaking
Work Text:
Stanley Forbes woke up to the sound of the house shaking. It was a deep, powerful groan, the sensation of falling in the pit of his stomach, and he tumbled out of bed blindly, flailing until he found his balance. In nothing but his nightgown and socks, he snuck down the long, dark hallway, the night heavy and smothering outside, and he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.
A remnant of another house he'd never be able to shake loose, it seemed.
Years had passed, of course. Forbes had moved on, of course. He had found himself in normalcy once more, of course.
But he could not shake the feeling, still. Not on cold, dark nights like this, where the absolute darkness swallowed even his very shadow. Not when he could hear his own breathing like thunder in his ears, and the little light of his candle could not reach beyond his arm.
Shivering, the shaking finally coalesced into a sound of knocking. A harsh, grating thumping, the doorknocker heavily impacting over and over again, and Forbes furrowed his brows and hurried to the front door, the sound of his footsteps loud even with his feet covered in plush socks for the winter air. At the door, he hesitated. He could not explain why; it was not a logical hesitance. Not something of human make, perhaps.
Then he opened the door.
Derek Wilson stood on the other side, shaking in his boots and smiling softly when the door blew open before him, nearly stumbling as he lost his support. "A dreadful evening, isn't it?" Young Derek Wilson asked, now no longer as young as he once was. An adult, realized Forbes---for Derek was taller than he'd ever known him, and his shoulders broader. His smile was wider than Forbes had ever seen, too, and Forbes inhaled harshly, clenched his jaw. Looked around, and had the sudden, horrible realization, too, that Derek was all alone.
In the dark, on such a cold, lonely, merciless night.
"Are you alright?" Forbes asked, and could not even be sorry for the suddenness.
Blinking, the view barely visible in the little light even when Forbes raised his candle, Derek only smiled again. "I'm just fine, old boy," he said, and laughed a bit. The light danced over his skin, and Forbes throat was uncomfortably dry. Wetting his lips, he could only nod, so overwhelmed that he could not speak. "Are you going to let me in?" asked Derek, then, when Forbes was taking entirely too long to collect himself.
"Of course," murmured Forbes, stepping back. Derek followed in, setting his bag down and smiling as he glanced around. Hardly a thing could be seen in the suffocating dark, made worse by the light available; it only meant their eyes could not adjust to the total blackness.
Derek then followed Forbes into the kitchen, where Forbes presented him with a glass of water. "Thank you," Derek said softly, and his fingers slid over Forbes as he took it. Forbes could do nothing but stare when Derek put the glass to his lips and tipped his head back, displaying his throat. Then, Forbes forced himself to look away.
Inhaling deeply, he leaned against the wall and waited silently for Derek to finish, half of him hidden in the dark.
But it did not seem quite so lonely, anymore.
In the guestroom, Derek made himself at home without delay. He placed his bag at the foot of the bed, unpacked in a few efficient moments and turned toward Forbes with a smile. "You're staying, then?" asked Forbes, warmth swimming in his veins, and held his breath.
"If you'll have me," said Derek, walking over, smiling. Looking into Forbes' eyes, the candlelight reflected in his eyes, Derek added, "I understand this is out of nowhere. I just..." Huffing, Derek's smile grew ever gentler. "I missed you."
And there was nothing Forbes could say to that, no words that could properly express his thoughts, the feelings clogging up his throat. Blinking, he only managed to smile in response, but Derek must have found some meaning in it regardless because his smile grew and he held out his hand. And of course Forbes grabbed it; of course he squeezed tight, stomach clenching and breath hitching.
Derek's hand was warm in his---Forbes could feel even the beating of his heart. "I've missed you, too," Forbes at last managed to say, and he pulled Derek closer. With no protests and in the safe cover of the night's dark, Forbes embraced Derek. Held the young man close to his chest, closing his arms around him, settling them on his back. Could feels the rise and fall of Derek's chest against him, and Derek ducked his head, rested it upon Forbes' shoulder.
"Stay as long as you wish," said Forbes into his hair, the strands smooth upon his skin. "I will always have you, Derek."
Hands digging into Forbes' waist, Derek held on tightly, in turn.
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