undergrounds | CLOSED; Heiji & Derek; 6/16

Entry tags:

CLOSED; Heiji & Derek; 6/16

Early afternoon has set over London when Stiles arrives at Hall Place & Gardens, the location he chose for Heiji and Derek to discuss alliances. The tourist attraction is in Bexley, which is near enough to pack territory that Derek shouldn’t feel too out of his element. And the museum itself should be of interest to Heiji, if the meeting goes horribly awry. Which it very well could. God knows what the hell goes on behind Derek Hale’s broody, angry brow. Stiles suspects not an awful lot, to be honest.

Hanging around the entrance to the gardens, by the parking lot, he waits for the two men to arrive. Maybe he can convince one or both of them to help pay for his ticket… After all, he’s just the third party organizing all this. They should be grateful. Grateful enough to buy him admission, and maybe a souvenir he can ship home to his old man or Scott. Derek is probably loaded with money, right? What’s sixty pounds to him, or six hundred…?

With a restless sigh, he digs out his cell to double check his messages. By the time one of them approaches him, he’s totally absorbed in a game of Angry Birds.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pleased by how readily the alliance was agreed upon, Stiles shoots both men a quirked grin before hustling up the hill and back to the main path. He’s really starting to become aware of how cold it is, soaking wet on a breezy spring day in London. California can get cool too, especially closer to the coast, but Beacon Hills typically boasted mid to high 80°Fs every day with the sun burning hot and fierce above. Maybe that’s why Derek moved to the UK specifically; better weather for wearing leather. Clasping either bicep in a caricature of a self-hug, Stiles books it past the werewolf to reach the parking lot. Without needing to be told, he makes a beeline straight for a dark, sleek camaro once he spots it. Clearly Stiles is familiar with Derek’s ride.

“Heeeijiii,” he whines, shivering. “How about waving a hand and doing some hocus pocus? Help a brother out?”

Because he’s freezing and wet and slowly realizing he’ll likely need to strip outside in a parking lot in front of two supernatural creatures who probably have ungodly perfect bodies.

Derek glances between them, at once curious and dubious. He's not sure that hocus pocus is something they should be indulging. Thankfully, a family meander past at that point, just as Derek catches up to the car and the human - who happens to be studied with no small amount of wonder. Or sympathy. Or amusement.

"Oh my god," he mutters, opening the trunk and pulling out a shirt and a pair of jeans. He hands them to Stiles. "You can change in the back. Or, you know, the bathrooms. If you soak the inside of my car, you're going in the Thames."

Is he in decent spirits? It just might be so.

"Whatcha getting all shy about?" asked Heiji, grinning. "We're all guys here, right?"

What was wrong, Stiles, didn't you want to be seen and judged by two other dudes on your abs or lack of? Nevertheless, the windows of the Camaro darkened, so Stiles could have his very own privacy chamber.

Inspecting the shirt and jeans dubiously, he glances between the car and the visitor’s center in the distance. Then he glances between Heiji and Derek. And then he glances at his socked feet and the gravelly road. Choices.

When he notices that the windows have all darkened, he whoops gratefully and launches himself at the kitsune, spinning Heiji around (and probably getting him wet again).

“You’re the best, dude! I could kiss you.”

Oh. Well. They’ve kind of already covered that though, haven’t they. Turning bright red, he throws open the car door to the backseat and disappears inside.

"The Thames, Stiles," Derek repeats, pointedly, just to hammer in the message. His gaze slides, for what feels like the thousandth time, between the human and the fae in the moments before the door closes, because it's not hard to see Stiles' blush or miss the fact his heart rate just spiked. Assuring himself that it's definitely weird and that he neither wants to know nor cares to, he huffs a sigh and folds his arms. Once again, he resumes eying Heiji but, social creature that he is, he says nothing.

O-oh, Mr Stiles. Heiji dripped for a moment, sighed resignedly as he found himself wet again, then turned to Derek. At least this time there wasn't any pond crud on him.

"So, there any good beaches around here?"

The way his eyebrows furrow in answer ask, quite clearly, are you serious - funny, how gifted both Stiles and Heiji are in earning such a reaction - but he's coming to understand that the answer is yes. For the sake of politics, he attempts not to look too put upon.

"The nearest are about an hour away. Kent or Essex are probably easiest." He pauses, then tacks on; "You'd prefer Kent."

"Oh? What makes ya say that?" Did you have some kind of insight into Heiji's character, Derek. Did you know how much he liked babes.

An hour away. That wasn't too bad. He wondered if he might be able to crash someone's beach party...

Nonchalantly, Derek shrugs. Other than keeping in Heiji's good graces, it's not particularly the usual for him to make such an observation. Out loud, at least.

"It gets called the 'garden of England'. Figured that would appeal to you."

"I do like my green spaces." He laughed. "But you don't go to the beach to look at a garden, yeah?"

Unless Derek did, but then that was weird. In any case, he was sure that Stiles, at least, agreed with him. "So did you and Stiles meet over in the U.S.? Seems like you guys go back a bit."

The answering expression is both disparaging and confused. He's not the type to hang out in beaches, or gardens, and he assumes that much is clear about him. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he remains quiet, but at relative ease - at least, until the question comes. Minutely, his stance shifts, stiffens, his shoulders drawing into a hard line.

"No," he answers, plainly. There's no harm in this, even if he doesn't necessarily like talking, thinking about Beacon Hills. Stiles would probably be forthright anyway. "I left there when Stiles was in elementary school."

At this point, Heiji was starting to wonder where Derek did spend his time. He now had the distinct image of Derek returning home, hanging up his coat, and backing slowly into a small closet, frowning intensely at the rest of the room while he pulled the door shut from the inside and blanketed himself in the enclosing darkness until it was once again time to emerge.

Also, how old WAS Derek, anyway?

"Yeah? We met a few months ago." Heiji stopped because he figured Stiles wouldn't appreciate him telling Derek the story of how they'd met, but the way he left it hanging like that made it sound kind of ambiguous.

Something about the silence makes him feel defensive, because he's pretty sure conclusions are being drawn about him. Bad ones. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he folds his jacket around himself suspiciously. Fae are a pain in the ass. And so is Stiles, so he supposes it's only natural that they're connected. He snorts a laugh.

"Yeah, seems like he gets around."

~~Or did he? Given Stiles's response when he'd been smooched earlier~~ He smiled. "Nothing wrong with making new friends, as long as he watches out for himself."

Hmm.

"...Yeah, maybe he should be more careful. I took him over to Faery that other time 'cause it seemed like he might try to get in anyway by himself." And thus land himself in even more trouble. Best to make sure Stiles had someone watching his back while he satisfied his curiosity. "Say, why don't you come, too? Since we're friends and all."

And from the inside of the car, there comes a muffled shout.

"I can still hear you, you assholes!"

Then the camaro bounces in place as he continues...whatever the hell he's doing.

Derek opens his mouth to respond, wary and yet incredibly curious about the prospect offered to him, but before he can speak his car rocks worryingly. Sighing, he rolls his eyes.

"Good. Maybe you should take note," he says archly, and if it wasn't his car he'd probably have kicked it for effect. As it is, he turns back to Heiji, considering.

"That's a generous offer."

Think about it, Derek. Think about how soaking wet Stiles was when he got into that car. And what that rocking and flailing around was doing to the interior right at this very moment.

"You don't have to give me your answer right away," said Heiji. Well, probably if he was Derek, he'd be a little cagey about the idea, too. But if he was Derek, he'd also be insatiably, incurably curious.

"Oh yeah." He reached into his pocket and took out a slip of paper with his cell phone number on it. "Here ya go. If you need me. I don't get reception on the other side, but I spend a lot of time over here, so I'm usually pretty quick about answering."

Endeavouring to ignore the threat to his camaro that is Stiles Stilinski, Derek takes the paper and casts his eyes over it before tucking it into his jacket, nodding in thanks. Or perhaps just acknowledgement. (Later, Heiji will have a text from him, which will consist of 'It's Derek' and nothing else.)

"Guess I'm not the only one that doesn't fit expectation."

Edited 2015-07-30 22:15 (UTC)

"I like to think I'd get an 'Exceeds Expectations'," said Heiji cheerfully. If, that was, he ever went to class for any real length of time. His report card would most likely consist of those and the odd plea to please get this fucker out of my class.

"By the way, if you don't wanna run into a lot of fae, there's plenty of space where it's just fields and trees." Those were Heiji's favorite places to visit -- wide-open meadows where he could run as fast as his paws could carry him, enclosing forests where he could find a break in the trees and settle in for a nap with the sun warming his fur.

Heiji's good cheer is less infectious and more intimidating, not that Derek is one to be sent running by such a thing. The problem remains that Heiji should be an idiot, with how he talks, but he's not. Had Derek needed proof, then the shrewdness it took to arrange this meeting is beyond clear.

It's weird. Heiji's weird. And he's inviting him to the Other Realm and Derek would actually really love to see it, which is a secret that Derek intends to take to his grave.

"Is it different, here?" He indulges his own curiosity, reasoning that it's civil to do so. "From how it is in Japan, I mean."

"Totally different," said Heiji easily. So Derek was interested. This wasn't the first time Derek had asked about Heiji's home, so either the guy was a little homesick himself, or he really did want to know. Possibly both.

In any case, Derek's vague pronouns again meant that Heiji was just going to answer the question however he wanted. "From the buildings to the people who live in them. It's true that they've forgotten some things, but back in Osaka, most humans know a lot more about us. They remember a lot of the old stories... and not just the ones Disney makes movies about."

In fact, they might even have the presence of mind to know to bow to a kappa, and that driving away a zashiki-warashi was bad luck.

Derek made a soft, thoughtful noise. It was difficult to imagine. Beacon Hills had always been a case of silence, and so too was London, under pain of law enforcement. Alternatives were few and far between, even if there were plenty of places in Britain where humans still left an item of clothing or a coin bound with their wishes.

"Sounds dangerous."

"It's actually safer than here. Not gonna say there ain't any conflict, but it's not like London, with people jostling elbows and tryin' to rub everyone else's faces in it." If it wasn't clear which area Heiji favored more.

"For all the talk about acceptance and uniting the supernatural communities, the atmosphere here is way more fractious. It's beyond not trusting other people. It's being convinced everyone else is out to get you. Like the way the witches treat us -- like we're always out to screw them over as much as possible, and the only way to make us cooperate is to force us or lawyer us into giving them what they want."

Which predictably went poorly, even with the more sympathetic fae. No one liked being treated like a magical gumball machine, and the fae more than most resented being ordered about by outsiders.

Derek recalls their first conversation, and the bits and pieces of information that Heiji had given him then. It hadn't been through his own personal will that he was here, right? Hearing the way he spoke of his home, it didn't surprise him. He smiles, but it's a sardonic kind of expression.

"Yeah, that great English welcome isn't all it's cracked up to be."

The car door opens, signaling the return of one Stiles Stilinski. His sopping wet clothes are bunched up in a ball under an arm, while the borrowed outfit adorns his body more than a little loosely. Though he and Derek are roughly the same height, their builds are extremely different. Stiles, who hadn’t thought to wear a belt today, keeps self-consciously hiking up the jeans as they slip down his narrow hips.

“So, as a human, let me just say,” he begins, strolling over to them, “that everything really is out to get me. Including that pond and goose.”

CLOSED; Heiji & Derek; 6/16

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)