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neapeaikea · 2 years

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You Can Stay

I, much like every AK writer, am of course offering up my own Adrian/Deran reunion fic! We need all the 'Deran sees Adrian on a beach'-fics we can get! Obviously wrote and posted this a lot quicker than I usually would, so please excuse typos etc and hopefully it makes sense and doesn't have plotholes or comes across as too obviously written as a reaction to what we saw on the show. Honestly mate, I'm just happy Deran's alive but gdi we were denied a reunion!! Might end up revisiting this one, or write an entirely different reunion fic, there are a lot of thoughts right now.

It's available on AO3 here, but to make sure as many people as possible that need a little healing help right now sees it, it's also available here and under the cut.

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Deran stays behind the treeline, like he has done for the previous two days. It’s safe there. There, he still has a choice. A chance. If he walks down onto the sand, approaches the water, he won’t have any other choice than to announce his presence to Adrian. Right now, there’s still a possibility that Adrian will be happy to see him, will take him into his arms, will love him. If Deran moves from his spot, he’s going to find out what Adrian’s real reaction will be, and Deran is scared shitless that it won’t be a positive one.

So he stays away from the beach, smokes some shitty Indonesian brand of cigarettes with more tar than nicotine at a roadside hut that apparently passes as a restaurant. His own bar would’ve counted as a Michelin-star establishment in comparison. He can’t fault their fried rice dishes though, and the beer is okay. The cigarettes truly are awful, but that doesn’t stop him from going through a pack in half a day.

He sees Adrian help a girl up from a surfboard on the sand, seemingly in the middle of beginner’s tutorial. He knows he’s unreasonably jealous of the girl, but he so badly wants to feel Adrian’s touch again. They’re too far away for Deran to really see their faces, but Adrian’s stance is easy and relaxed.

The first day Deran was here, when he first saw Adrian again, he was so close to rushing out, to beg for forgiveness, to ask for comfort. But he’d gotten close enough to see Adrian smile carefree, hear his laughter and he’d just stopped. In a second, before Adrian could spot him, Deran had run to hide behind some trees. He’d stood with his hands on his knees and had felt like retching.

You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.

He’d found a hostel to catch his breath at, then he’d started staking out the beach. For nearly three days now, he’s followed Adrian around, plagued with doubt and guilt. Is he really going to do this again, ruin Adrian’s life? What if he is happy? What if he is glad Deran isn’t in his life anymore? What if he loves someone else? Deran is going mad not talking to him, letting him know that he’s there. But he’s also so scared Adrian will turn away, and then Deran really won’t have anyone or anything left. He’s absolutely terrified of that outcome.

He’s also kind of happy, almost relieved. Adrian seems to have a job at some sort of establishment that is not only a bar but also offers surfing, scuba diving, fishing trips and plain old swimming lessons. Adrian’s left in the evenings for the same building that looks to be tiny apartments for the local workers in the tourist industry. Adrian’s talked to some randoms on the beach and people that must be his co-workers. Deran can’t tell if he looks happy, but from the outside, it does look like he’s got his shit together and isn’t strung out sleeping on the sand. Deran could leave now, without ever speaking to Adrian, and convince himself that Adrian is in a good place and will live happily ever after. Knowing that Adrian is alright, won’t that be worth a life of misery for Deran?

Deran’s spent nearly a year in utter hell. He’s grieved, drunk, robbed and fought his way across most of Latin America, the whole time wondering if there even was a reason to keep going. But every time he went down that dark, deep hole, he’d end up seeing Adrian, imagine being back in bed with him in their home, hear Craig say that’s the happiest he’s ever seen Deran. Fucking Craig. Of course his dead asshole brother is the one to not let Deran give up, and he uses Adrian to do it. The Codys can’t stop emotionally manipulating people even when they’re dead.

He spends most of the day in the same seat, one that has a view over the beach, where he can keep tabs on Adrian even if he’s mostly just a small figure walking between the bar and the ocean. Looks like he’s some sort of waiter for most of the afternoon. Deran wonders if he should go over there, order a Mai Tai and see what happens. Maybe it’s the sun, the glittering ocean, or the fact that he doesn’t feel like he needs to keep looking over his shoulder, but Deran’s thoughts actually turn somewhat optimistic. Adrian’s not like him, he’s not an asshole. If Deran goes over there, Adrian will at least talk to him, will offer him somewhere to stay. Maybe he’ll be able to finally make Deran exhale the breath he’s been holding since Craig died in his arms.

Adrian’s been inside for nearly an hour and Deran is close to going over there just to see what the fuck he’s doing, when Adrian comes back out from the wooden building, surrounded by a couple of other people. They’re all carrying something long and unwieldy and Deran actually stands up and does a doubletake when he sees them joining a group of other people on the beach, folding out what is apparently yoga mats on the sand. Deran laughs to himself. No fucking way. They used to make so much fun of the millennial hippies that did yoga on the beach, now Adrian is one of them?

Deran can’t help it, he’s amused and just a little curious at how bendy Adrian is, so he leaves a wad of cash on the table and walks closer. He makes sure to stay somewhat hidden, though he’s not sure Adrian would recognize him with his shorter, dyed dark hair and the huge aviator shades he has on.

Adrian looks good on the mat. He’s not as agile as some of the others, but he can hold the poses fine. He can’t be a newbie becuase his body flows from one movement to the next without interruption. His raggedy tank top keeps sliding up and down his torso, and Deran is finally close enough to see that Adrian still has a nice body. Deran’s body has more scars and bruises than ever. He’s got new ink too, to remind him of his brothers.

The yoga session lasts for half an hour. People roll up their mats afterwards, dispersing slowly. Adrian talks to the guy who was teaching the class. Deran’s moving before he’s really aware of it. He walks out onto the sand, has tons of it inside his Vans after just a few steps. He runs a hand through his hair and takes off his shades.

“Hey,” Deran says when he’s close enough.

Adrian looks over. He doesn’t react at first, then his eyes go huge and he looks around in confusion before focusing back on Deran, “Deran?”

“Yeah,” Deran stops a few paces away from Adrian, not sure if he’s welcome closer.

The guy Adrian was talking to takes the hint and walks away, leaving Deran and Adrian relatively alone on the strip of sand.

“Are you…” Adrian trails off.

“I’m sorry,” Deran says. He’s thought through this conversation a hundred times in the last years, but he’s woefully underprepared for it. Seeing Adrian up close, noticing how the sun has made his hair more red, the white rings around his eyes where he must use sunglasses, and the many freckles on his face and arms, it does things to Deran’s body and his head.

“I…” Adrian starts. He takes a step closer, “What’s… Deran.”

Deran’s eyes well up, and he can’t hide it in time, and suddenly Adrian’s arms are around him, wrapping him up in his warmth, making him feel cared for for the first time in forever. He’s had sex with people in the last year, but he’s barely let anyone touch him, not really.

Adrian’s arms are as strong as ever, and they feel so right around Deran’s sides. His hands run up and down Deran’s back, while he whispers comforting nonsense into Deran’s ears. Deran just cries harder at that, he was the one to send Adrian away, to destroy what they had together, and now he’s the one making Adrian take care of him. Adrian shouldn’t have to deal with Deran’s shit, his stupidity, his everything.

“I’m sorry,” Deran says again, voice thick with emotions, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck, I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry.”

“Shouldn’t have come?” Adrian pulls back, but Deran throws his arms around him, forces him into a death grip. “Deran, I’ve been waiting for this day for years.”

“You have?” Deran asks, surprised. He looks up, meets Adrian’s eyes. They seem sad, worried. Deran wonders if it’s because of his current crying, or because of everything else.

Adrian swallows, searches Deran’s face, “For so long, I’ve just wanted to see you again. I had so much to say to you. But ever since I heard about Pope, about the breakout, I’ve just wanted to know that you’re okay. I’ve just wanted…”

It’s Adrian who cries now, his voice breaking as he puts his head on Deran’s shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Deran says, a hand sliding up into Adrian’s hair, “I’m okay. I promise. I’m sorry. Fuck, I missed you so much. Can we, can we go somewhere?”

“Yeah, uh, shit,” Adrian makes a noise like he’s keeping snot from Deran’s t-shirt. “I gotta, uh, clear out from work, but I’ve got a place not far from here, hang on.”

When Adrian pulls away to reach for his yoga mat, Deran feels physically ill. He doesn’t want to let go, he wants to keep touching Adrian forever. They were never ones to hold hands or some such, but now Deran reaches out without hesitation. It’s not ‘til he’s got Adrian’s hand squeezed in his that he realizes it might not be welcome, so he pulls his hand back. He’s too scared to look Adrian in the eye, the fear of rejection suddenly on the forefront of his mind. But then Adrian’s fingers tangle around his, and the vice around Deran’s heart loosens slightly.

They walk hand in hand, and Deran tries to feel like no one’s watching. They probably aren’t.

“Uh, my name’s Johnny here,” Adrian says quietly. “You?”

“Mark. Mark Smith.”

Adrian laughs, “So we’re gonna be Marky and Johnny? Perfect.”

Deran’s heart skips a beat at the insinuation that they’ll be anything together. He knows absolutely nothing has been said or decided yet, not really. “First person to call me Marky, I’ll beat the fuck up.”

“I bet you will,” Adrian mutters. “Some people call me Joe. Stay here.”

Deran waits outside while Adrian goes into the building, which Deran can finally tell has a seating area but also a large reception area where different corners are reserved for different activities. Adrian starts by heading towards the regular training area to leave the yoga mat, and then goes to the surf area. Deran watches as Adrian exchanges a few words with a guy who looks as much a Westerner as Adrian and Deran. Despite the fact that they’re in a smaller, out-of-the way town, there seems to be more tourists and ex-pats than Indonesians.

A couple of minutes later, Adrian comes back out. He doesn’t reach for Deran’s hand and Deran doesn’t dare make a move of his own. He does walk a lot closer to Adrian than needed, their shoulders constantly brushing. He takes comfort in the fact that Adrian doesn’t move away. Deran knows it’s just over five minutes to the building Adrian lives in, but he lets Adrian tell him about it on the way over there, and about how it’s building where mostly season workers from all over the world stay for the weeks or months they’re in town. Adrian’s lived there for over a year, it’s him and two Germans that make up the old guard by now.

It's a one-room apartment, a bed off to the side, a small kitchenette near the entrance where a table is cluttered with dirty dishes. There’s a bathroom and a wall of glass windows that look out over the beach. It’s not cozy, and it’s not a home. It’s just somewhere to stay.

“Home, sweet home,” Adrian sighs, picking up a hoodie from the floor and throwing it onto the bed. He turns around, studies Deran for a moment. “Come here.”

Adrian’s barely said the words before Deran’s back in his arms, the tears spilling out again without his permission. He thought he was done crying, that he didn’t have tears left. He’s spent so many days since he first sent Adrian away with puffy, red eyes, a splitting headache and bone deep tiredness. But here he is, breaking all over again. Adrian’s crying too, Deran absently notes. It’s not the body wracking, heaving sobs that Deran can’t seem to stop, but silent, small tears.

Adrian guides them to the bed, and they lie there for long minutes, arms around each other and legs tangled. It’s warm, a sticky heat in the room that isn’t helped by them lying so close. Deran feels disgusting with tears and snot all over, but he also feels amazing because Adrian’s fingers are rubbing the side of his neck, and he’s kissing Deran’s forehead.

“What happened?” Adrian asks quietly when Deran’s finally calmed down. “I heard about Pope, Jess told me. But she could never find out about you, or Craig.”

“Craig’s dead.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Deran’s not ready to tell the whole story. “J fucked us over. He took all the money and left us all for dead.”

“He did?” Adrian shifts around, leaning up on his elbow. Something on Deran’s face must tell him to not push for more, because he clams up, looks away.

“I should’ve gone with you. I should’ve gone fucking with you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” Deran turns his head away, wonders if it will ever stop hurting.

Adrian doesn’t say anything. But he has a hand on Deran’s side, and where his t-shirt rides up, Adrian’s thumb is pressed against his skin.

“Where have you been since then?” Adrian asks eventually.

“Trying to get here,” Deran says, voice raspy. “Didn’t have any money, didn’t know if I could use the passport I had, didn’t know if J was coming for me, had to stay away from the heat for a long fucking time. Shit was… fuck.”

“And now? Is anyone coming for you?”

Deran shakes his head, “Nah. I’ve got nothing, and with everyone else dead, nobody is gonna spend time and effort on me. I doubt even the feds are looking for me.”

“Yeah,” Adrian lies back down. “Keep it that way, okay? Whatever you end up doing here, don’t let it be crime. The prisons here, they’re no joke. I could probably get you a job at the bar. Oh, Soran would be glad to have some muscle on weekends for the nightclub. You can’t beat people up too much, though, no cops, remember.”

Deran blinks, “I can – you want – I can stay?”

“Yeah. You can stay. I don’t know how we’re gonna… I don’t know. But you can stay. I’m not gonna let you leave. Not ‘til I know what I want.”

Deran’s the one to shift then, leaning over Adrian, “Do you… do you still… feel that way, about me?”

“Like I hate you? I’ve hated you so much, for so long. When I heard about the breakout, and I never got any news about you, I guess I stopped. There was no point hating you any longer. Worried instead.”

“What about the other way?” Deran asks, because that was what he really wanted to know. He’s been clinging on to the slight possibility that things might not be a messy dark chaos for the rest of his life.

Adrian looks pained, “Have you ever stopped?”

Deran frowns.

“Feeling that way about me,” Adrian clarifies.

Deran leans in. Adrian has never, ever, been more beautiful. Deran says it quietly, almost a murmured prayer, “I love you. Always.”

Adrian closes the distance, kisses him with dry lips that taste amazing through the beer, cigarettes, sand and ocean water. When he pulls back, he sighs. “You don’t have to like someone to love them.” He pulls on Deran’s short hair, “I’ll like you a lot better when you’re blond again. I don’t know about this look on you.”

Deran laughs in surprise, “I don’t like it either. It was just for the trip.”

“I know,” Adrian says. He puts a hand on Deran’s cheek, like he knows Deran needs all the physical comfort he can get after going without for so long. Maybe Adrian needs it too. “Yeah, I feel that way about you, still. I don’t know if it matters or where it leaves us, but yeah. I love you.”

Deran’s heart doesn’t burst into fireworks, he doesn’t feel elated or weak in the knees. He just feels like a part of him is stitching itself back together, and it feels unexpectedly good. He keeps eye-contact with Adrian, the two of them stuck inside a bubble of uncertainty and hesitation. They’re gonna need so much time, and so many words.

“Well, then. I guess we should see about that job at the bar.” Deran says. He curls up against Adrian, “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Adrian slides his arm around Deran’s side, “Tomorrow.”

#deran x adrian #deran x adrian fic #fic by me #deran cody #adrian dolan #deran goes to indonesia #reunion fic #reunion on a beach #animal kingdom tnt #animal kingdom

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