Derek Hale. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
instinct) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
proximalogs2014-01-15 05:52 pm
instinct) wrote in proximalogs2014-01-15 05:52 pm
Entry tags:
( closed / free of any eden we can name )
WHO: derek hale + lydia martin.
WHERE: central city.
WHEN: backdated to the evening of the thirteenth.
SUMMARY: absolutely not a date.
WARNING(S): may get nc17.
[ it's exactly seven when derek knocks on the door of lydia's ground floor apartment. he's got flowers, because he does actually understand when a suggestion is not really a suggestion, and his clothes are clean, even if they're still just a dark tshirt and jeans. ]
[ he knows he shouldn't be intimidated by the thought of spending time with a girl who is probably six years younger than him and whose taste in men runs along the lines of jackson whittemore, who is an asshole (which derek knows because he was the exact same asshole in high school) and yet there's still a clench in his gut as he waits for her to answer. ]
This is a bad idea.
[ is the first thing he says, and then he presents her with flowers. they're nice — they're not roses, though he considered it, because he's never bought anyone roses before, but even buying her dinner is enough romance that it's freaking him out, so he didn't. ]
WHERE: central city.
WHEN: backdated to the evening of the thirteenth.
SUMMARY: absolutely not a date.
WARNING(S): may get nc17.
[ it's exactly seven when derek knocks on the door of lydia's ground floor apartment. he's got flowers, because he does actually understand when a suggestion is not really a suggestion, and his clothes are clean, even if they're still just a dark tshirt and jeans. ]
[ he knows he shouldn't be intimidated by the thought of spending time with a girl who is probably six years younger than him and whose taste in men runs along the lines of jackson whittemore, who is an asshole (which derek knows because he was the exact same asshole in high school) and yet there's still a clench in his gut as he waits for her to answer. ]
This is a bad idea.
[ is the first thing he says, and then he presents her with flowers. they're nice — they're not roses, though he considered it, because he's never bought anyone roses before, but even buying her dinner is enough romance that it's freaking him out, so he didn't. ]
no subject
[ lydia's shrugging, leaning her elbows on the table and fiddling with her cuticles and nail beds. she's staying casual and keeping her eyes averted, even while playing the most unsubtle game of footsies with him. ]
You think of something. Though, if you can't — you can never go wrong asking a girl about herself.
[ it gives them a chance to brag, which is something lydia enjoys ( a lot ) and gives him a chance to weed out potential sociopaths. date talk is a fine art~ ]
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What's the strangest thing that's happened to you on the island.
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Well, I did this thing — where I orchestrated a threesome with these two weirdos...
[ one of those weirdos most definitely bring you, derek. though she also threw a temper tantrum at a norse god and managed to get her own personal stalker so that might not be the strangest thing she's done this far. ]
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See, I only remember one weirdo present at that threesome. Unless you've managed to orchestrate twice.
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[ not if she initiates operation: put both of her feet on his feet first! ]
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Right. And how'd that work out for you?
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[ points to lydia martin!
though in all serious and no sexiness... ]
I thinking dragging a grown man to the hospital was pretty weird. And not in some warped good way like most of the sex has been. It was just...weird.
[ and then he started following her around — change of subject time. ]
What about you? Other than offering yourself to the entire city, I mean.
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[ obviously not for himself. actually, for claudia who wanted them for clay, so their stories are linked, though he doesn't actually know that. ]
[ but no, no, when he really thinks about it, that's not his weirdest thing. neither is the threesome, or popping a mermaid's cherry. ]
Erica's here.
[ that's trumps. ]
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lydia lets out a low whistle, and then a sigh. ]
Back from the dead, it looks like. She's not the only one. [ her new best friend chuck hansen had died too. maybe it was a theme with this place: sex and death. sex and zombies. sex with zombies? ]
Have you and her — [ ah, strategic trailing off and suggestive eyebrow waggling. ]
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No.
[ she's like his daughter, or little sister, that would be so incredibly weird and bad. ]
But having to explain everything wasn't easy.
[ like how she was dead and he wasn't an alpha anymore. ]
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[ not that lydia expressly cares about erica; the only time they'd come close to interacting was that time someone had decided she was a threat that needed to be eliminated and stalked her to the mccall house, and then that one time lydia'd mouthed off at her here, whilst under the effects of one curse or another. it hadn't been an auspicious start to any sort of friendship.
but it must suck to be told you're dead. and she can manage sympathetic without actual emotional investment. ]
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[ derek grimaces, helplessly. he'd tried really hard, but he's not good at words, at comfort. ]
But she's alive.
[ and that's everything to derek, everything. his attitude towards this place has tempered significantly thanks to that little fact. ]
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[ sort of. ]
That's a good thing.
[ she guesses. she doesn't know, it's strange but lydia's going to try very hard to be happy for him. ]
Who knows. Maybe that means Boyd'll be fine, too. He could show up any day.
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[ derek's thought of that, too. he looks away, uncomfortable. erica he'd failed. boyd — boyd he'd killed. and he still hasn't dealt with that. ]
[ but the waiter interrupts them before derek has to vocalize that, bringing their food. derek looks at lydia's fish eggs and shakes his head in silent judgement. ]
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Don't look at it like that. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it's not good.
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[ and wearing the same clothes, and fucking the same people, in the same position, with the same power dynamic...
that's why she always wears her hair in different styles. ]
Don't worry, I'm not going to make you try it.
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[ derek picks up his chopsticks, but he's not as practiced with them as he could be, and he has to concentrate hard just to pick up one piece of eel. ]
Do you want to try mine?
[ he asks belatedly. ]
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Sure.
[ and because she's been awfully flirting and tormenting all evening, she arches her eyebrows and grins. ]
Do you want to feed it to me?
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[ he agrees. the eel is pressed tight between his chopsticks as he hesitantly moves it across the table. maybe a little too tightly, because he doesn't quite make it to her mouth before it's sliced in two pieces that fall to her plate below. derek grimaces, embarrassed, and takes his hand back. maybe he should get a fork. ]
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Smooth, sweetheart.
[ but don't worry, she's got the dexterity to pinch the eel (delicately) and pop it into her mouth. ]
Very impressive. You don't pronounce the dishes like the insensitive, euro-centric jerk people might assume you are, but you can't use chopsticks.
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I can use them fine.
[ the food gets to his mouth, that's all that matters. ]
I don't exactly eat out much.
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[ hahahah, sucks to be you dere —
unless... ]
And take-out? Or are you trying to tell me you cook?
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[ have you seen the shape he's in? between his fitness regime and his sensitive werewolf nose's distaste for artificial flavors, sweeteners, and preservatives, derek is incredibly fussy about what he puts into his body. and he hasn't had parents for about eight years. ]
At home I just use a fork.
[ even for take out sushi? no: then he uses his fingers. ]