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bouwrites · 1 year

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And Your Bird Can Sing: Chapter 4

Chores

First, Previous, Next.

Ao3.

Story under read-more.

Every time Ryer comes to visit the Suárez household, Derek asks him how Cove and Jamie are doing. It’s an innocent enough question to Ryer, who has no idea that Derek has a crush on Jamie, and Derek does legitimately just want to know what his friends are up to when he’s not able to go visit them himself.

And over the first part of summer, when his friendship with Ryer is still new and uncomfortable, Ryer doesn’t give very good answers. Derek still doesn’t know whether it’s because he doesn’t know how the other two are doing, because he avoids them and thus doesn’t see them, or whether he’s just not comfortable talking about that kind of thing.

But over time, Ryer opens up. With some prompting, his one or two word answers turn into little stories about whatever newest shenanigan the two get up to that week. Most of the time, though, those stories don’t actually involve Ryer, and are told secondhand. Ryer says that Jamie and Cove tell him about it afterwards.

But after the campfire, that’s when Derek notices things change. Now, Ryer is part of the stories. Now, the stories include Elizabeth sometimes, and slowly but surely, even Jamie’s moms. It’s tentative at first, much like he is just talking about Jamie and Cove in the first place, like he isn’t sure he’s allowed to talk about it, but eventually he’s grinning with a far-off look in his eye, cast back to the Last household where Jamie’s ma is teaching him the ukulele.

Which – that’s a thing, now. Ryer mentions wanting to learn, and Jamie’s ma knows how, but Derek doesn’t expect Ryer to actually take advantage of that.

Maybe he should. It’s music, after all. If there’s anything Ryer will go out on a limb for, it’s music. But of everyone Derek knows, Mrs. and Mrs. Last are some of the ones Ryer is always the most nervous around. Not in the way that makes it seem like he doesn’t like them, but just that he doesn’t seem to know how to behave, or how to treat them.

When Derek notices the change, he’s happy for Ryer, that Ryer is finally finding his place in Sunset Bird. But that the same time…

Derek feels really lonely.

It’s a stupid thing to feel, considering he’s the one that lives in the city, with so many more people around, but… aside from his direct family that he lives with, all his favorite people are in Sunset Bird. Ryer, Jamie, and Cove, they can just leave their houses and walk across the street and hang out. Derek doesn’t have that option.

But! That doesn’t mean he doesn’t visit still. He’s still over enough to be notable. It’s on a perfectly ordinary day when he’s doing just that, visiting, and Cove has the idea to grab Jamie to play some game, and they leave the Holden household to venture across the street, when something unordinary happens.

Normal enough, the Lasts are a little busy doing some chores. Jamie reports that the whole family is pitching in, that they plan this day to get everything fixed up and neat. Grocery shopping, then a good old cleaning of the house. Do all the laundry that just seems to somehow miss the cycle for whatever reason, tidy up wherever things have gotten out of hand, give the place a good dusting. Just a day dedicated to sorting out the house.

Cove is about ready to leave the Lasts to it, not intruding on what is ostensibly a work day, and honestly preferring to not do that, even if it means missing out on hanging with Jamie for today, and Derek is willing to follow him even though he thinks the Last’s plan actually sounds kind of fun.

But then Ryer comes down the sidewalk.

It takes less than a glance to tell that something’s wrong.

Ryer’s posture is hunched, hands in his pockets, head down. He storms down the street, but Derek can’t tell if he’s angry or something else. It’s all tense and ready to snap. He doesn’t look up or acknowledge them all there in front of the Last house, or even seem to notice them in his single-minded determination to get… somewhere.

Jamie’s ma is the first to react, but her wife puts a hand on her arm, shaking her head. “Hold on,” she says. “It’ll be better if he comes to us.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t even see them. But Derek can’t help himself when he moves just a little bit into the sidewalk, in Ryer’s way, and says gently, “Hey, guy.”

Ryer’s head snaps up. Those dark, watery eyes (He doesn’t cry. Derek doesn’t ever see Ryer cry, but this is one of the very first times he sees hints of it.) fix on Derek for a moment, just long enough for Derek’s heart to jump into his throat because he sees, atop the wide, panicked countenance a-

Ryer turns his head away, knowing what Derek sees, but inadvertently turns to face the Lasts and finds himself once more standing like a deer in the headlights.

There’s no hiding it. Derek is the one to rush forward, stopping far enough not to panic Ryer further but not far enough for him not to flinch away, and reach out slowly, tentatively, asking for permission.

When Ryer doesn’t stop him, Derek carefully lifts Ryer’s chin, turning his head so that the large, mottled, angry-red and purpling bruise on his cheek is exposed.

Ryer’s eyes fall anywhere but Derek. His jaw is too tight. He stands tall, trying to be proud, but can’t make his face display the same.

Oh, God, even his neck. There are bruises on either side of his throat.

The smallest of sniffles, a shaky breath in.

Derek asks, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ryer says, but his voice is tight, hoarse, not like it should be. As if realizing it’s too late to pretend nothing happens at all, Ryer’s attitude transforms on the spot. He forcefully relaxes into a much more natural slouch, lifts his head all on his own, and looks determinedly to the Lasts, steadfastly ignoring their expressions. “What’re you all up to?”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Jamie exclaims. “Look at you!” He runs forward now, too, to examine Ryer’s face more closely. “Look at your neck, too! How did-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ryer’s growl is so sudden and so dark that Jamie shuts up immediately, even stepping back in shock. There’s no doubt that what Derek sees in Ryer’s face is anger. Then all that bleeds away. Ryer grimaces. “Please, just…”

Jamie picks up Ryer’s cues. He nervously starts talking for the second time about his family’s plan for today, and about how Derek and Cove just got here but are probably going to leave.

Much more normally, despite how sudden it is and even though his voice is still a little off, Ryer asks, “Can I help?”

“I, er…” uncharacteristically, Jamie putters. “Moms? What do you think?”

Jamie’s mom still has a firm grip on his ma, preventing her from doing anything, as she answers with a pleasant, normal smile, “Of course you’re welcome, Ryer. But we’re not going to be doing anything really fun. Just some chores.”

“That sounds perfect, actually,” Ryer admits quietly.

Jamie’s mom grins, doing a much better job than anyone else except maybe Ryer himself at pretending he doesn’t look like he’s just lost a fight. “Then welcome aboard! We were getting ready to head over to the grocery store right now. Let me show you our shopping list.”

Derek watches Ryer walk away, approach the moms gingerly, then tense and relax in quick succession when they welcome him with a slow, gentle hug. The kind of awed, shocked calm that overtakes him with them. A startled kind of relief.

Derek wants more than anything to know where those bruises come from, but he’s not stupid enough to press the issue. Ryer doesn’t want to talk about it, just like he refuses to go into any detail about the bruise on his ribs back in the park. Ryer just isn’t the type of person who wants that concern. He tries to brush it off as quickly as possible and just move on.

So, Derek can do that. If that’s what’s going to be best for Ryer right now, he’ll do it. He sucks in a fortifying breath, then runs in to ask if he can tag along as well.

“The more the merrier!” Jamie says.

Cove shakes his head. “Seriously?”

“What?” asks Derek. He’s half truthful and half just hiding his intent to keep an eye on Ryer when he says, “I like cleaning.”

“Yeah, we know you’re weird.” Cove sighs. “But maybe it’ll be more fun than it sounds. I’m in, too.”

“Yes!” Jamie cheers. “Today’s going to be great!”

Thank God for Jamie’s boundless optimism. It’s like the whole world takes a breath, and everything isn’t okay, because Ryer is hurt, but it’s like when Ryer takes out his harmonica back in the park. It forces the atmosphere around them all to come undone, like a sharp tug on a knot that unleashes it, and they can keep going.

Derek still can hardly breathe. His chest winds up with worry. The not knowing drives him crazy, and this isn’t some boy he wants to befriend but barely talks to yet like he was back in the park. Now this is someone Derek really, truly, deeply cares about. This is the guy who does puzzles with Jorge, practices with Derek even though he doesn’t understand sports in the slightest, and sings folk songs with Derek’s mom.

He isn’t a stranger anymore. He’s a friend. And Derek can barely stand to let it go when he sees a stranger who’s hurt. The only thing stopping him is knowing he doesn’t know the situation and it’s not always his place to do something about it. But with a friend?

Derek needs to protect him. Even if all he can do is scold Ryer for not being careful or something – however he gets those bruises – Derek can’t just sit idly by and pretend everything is fine.

When they’re ushered into the car, Elizabeth and Cove both electing to stay home and dig out all the cleaning stuff so that they don’t overpack the five-seat car, Derek takes the middle seat right between Ryer and Jamie.

Ryer just stares out the window, not acknowledging the rest of the car in the slightest. His eyes are far away and turned from Derek. Maybe he does it on purpose, or maybe not, but he chooses the side of the car so that the bruise on his cheek is on the window side, out of view of everyone else.

The dark splotch on the side of his neck, though, is only more obvious by how he turns his head away.

Derek shares a silent look with Jamie, both unsure, then meets Jamie’s ma’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. She smiles gently and nods.

With the same painful slowness and caution as when he touches Ryer’s face on the sidewalk, Derek tentatively reaches out, brushing a feather-light touch, just in case Ryer isn’t paying attention, and then more firmly puts his hand on Ryer’s knee.

Ryer glances over. Derek’s breath hitches when Ryer’s hand falls on his own.

(It’s so much rougher than Derek expects.)

A tender smile, a gentle squeeze, and then- then Ryer carefully, appreciatively, pulls Derek’s hand off his knee and shifts it back into Derek’s own lap.

Derek doesn’t know what that means. All he knows is the somersaulting of his chest and a desperate hope that Ryer really is doing okay.

A nudge draws his attention to Jamie. They share a smile of their own together, and their underlying concern, and then Jamie hooks his arm through Derek’s and leans against him, comfortable just touching like that.

They make it, eventually, to the store, and wordlessly spill out of the car to start their shopping.

“Alright, gang,” Jamie’s mom says eagerly. “’Lani, will you take Jamie and focus on the groceries? I’ll take these two strong boys to get the rest. That way we might get home in time to stop Elizabeth and Cove from burning down the house.”

Now that she mentions it, Cove and Elizabeth usually don’t get along super well. Leaving them alone together is… probably not the wisest idea? Derek is so distracted worrying about Ryer that he doesn’t even think of that.

Jamie’s ma sends a surreptitious glance Ryer’s way but decides to just trust her wife and quickly ushers Jamie, protesting, towards the foodstuffs.

“Come on, you two. Time’s a wasting!” Jamie’s mom grins to them both, then turns to march off and, after grabbing a cart, leads the way to the pharmacy.

Derek, more accustomed to Ryer now, doesn’t start moving immediately. He waits, looking to Ryer, waiting for him to follow first, but rather than accept that, Ryer tips his head silently, telling Derek to go first.

His lips purse, but he does so, allowing Ryer to fall into place a half-step back. Next to him, but still just a little behind.

Derek doesn’t like it. He can’t say why he doesn’t like it, exactly, but he knows he doesn’t want Ryer at the back. If Derek were a braver person, he’d hook Ryer’s arm to force them to walk even. Unfortunately, all he can do is walk as he is.

When they get to the aisle Mrs. Last is looking for, she starts directing the boys towards the items they need. It looks like they’re restocking a first-aid kit. Understandable, with three boys running around outside all the time, small injuries like scrapes and cuts aren’t uncommon. In quick order, they have everything and are on their way to the next section.

As they shop though, an uneasy feeling grows in Derek. It’s nice and quiet, they get everything efficiently. Once, when something is too high for Derek to reach, Ryer leans into his space and grabs it from right overtop him. Then, instead of just taking it to the cart, he hands it down to Derek and continues on as if nothing happens.

That’s probably not something Derek should be focusing on, but it sticks in his mind anyway, even with the growing feeling somewhere inside him.

It’s not until they’re mostly done that Derek realizes what that feeling is about. It’s too quiet. It’s the until-then unnoticed background music the store plays over the speakers, which shifts to a song Derek hears Ryer play one at his family’s apartment, which spells out the problem for him.

Ryer doesn’t make a sound. It’s true that he’s normally quiet, but he’s always humming some tune or whispering lyrics under his breath, especially during mindless, stress-free work like shopping.

Now that he’s paying closer attention, Derek’s heart sinks. He slows down, allowing Jamie’s mom to get a little further ahead of them, and asks, “Are you alright?”

Ryer eyes him warily, but nods.

“I meant-” Derek stumbles over his words for a moment. “Your throat. You’re… quieter than usual.”

Ryer’s hand comes up unconsciously to rub at his neck. “I’m fine,” he says, which isn’t an answer at all.

“You’re sure?” Derek asks nervously. “I mean, your voice is super important, and I don’t want to risk anyt-”

A hand on his shoulder startles Derek, but it’s the gentle look that Ryer gives him, brown eyes just a little bit golden like a deep, dark honey, all warm and thankful and okay, that shuts him up.

There’s something so deep within Derek that’s quaking, and another that’s proud, and another that wants to do something very inappropriate and very stupid, but he doesn’t pay attention to that part.

Ryer leans in just a little, not enough to signify anything, but Derek’s eyes still flick down to Ryer’s lips before he recovers, gulping.

“Please,” Ryer says lowly, no longer putting effort Derek only just realizes is there into forcing his voice to sound undamaged. “Don’t worry about me.” Ryer’s eyes turn away for a moment, then return to Derek’s. “I can take care of myself.”

The bruises on his neck and face beg to differ. Still, Derek can’t say that. He just bites his lip, mulls over his words for a moment, and chooses instead to say, “You’re still a kid like me. You shouldn’t have to.”

Ryer smiles. “If you really want to convince me of that, you are definitely not the best example.”

Hey! That’s… fair. Yeah, okay, never mind. “You know what I mean,” Derek insists anyway.

“I do,” Ryer admits. “Thanks, Derek, but really, I’ll be fine. It’s not great right now, but it’ll heal. I just have to take it easy for a bit.”

So, Derek shouldn’t pressure him to talk too much. That makes sense, but it still settles poorly in Derek’s gut.

But… fine. At least until Ryer’s throat is better and there’s less risk of aggravating it by questioning him, the best thing Derek can do is just give him space and keep him busy.

Yet when Derek meets Ryer’s eyes, there’s something searching in them. Derek has to stop for a moment, sure that Ryer wants to ask him something. His brows pinch just slightly, his mouth opens, and his chest rises as if to speak.

No words come out. Instead, Ryer shakes his head, gestures Derek on, and, just when Derek passes him, Derek hears the barely audible whisper. “I don’t get it…”

“Hm?” Derek looks back, ready to address whatever is on Ryer’s mind, but Ryer sadly shakes his head once more. Nothing else will be said.

And nothing more is said. They meet back up with Jamie and his ma and check out. Jamie’s mom holds him back for a moment as the other three lead the way out to the car, but when she asks after Ryer, Derek doesn’t have an answer for her.

She counts on him to help Ryer, knowing Ryer will be more comfortable with a peer than an adult. That’s her whole plan; ensuring they have time relatively alone for Derek to act and trusting Derek to know Ryer better than anyone else here but… Derek can’t help if Ryer isn’t willing to accept his help.

It’s just one of those things. It sucks, and the pit in Derek’s stomach only widens, but it’s just… one of those things that’s out of his control.

But… he doesn’t think things are really that bad. Ryer is strong. Derek can’t quite tell how much of his face is just acting, or what’s really going on in his head, but Derek knows Ryer must be a resilient kind of guy. One has to be, to even act that tough.

And despite it all, despite everything that starts adding up, Derek trusts Ryer. Ryer avoids talking about certain things, but Derek refuses to believe he outright lies to him, especially about something as important to him as this. Ryer will be okay. He’s not great right now, but he’ll be okay if he’s just given some time.

Derek believes that, and that belief makes breathing a little easier. And even though he doesn’t have any more information to give to Mrs. Last, she at least seems a little reassured too by that small concession.

That doesn’t make it any easier to ignore or forget the tight expression on her face, or the sight of those bruises on Ryer’s body. What it does do is make it possible to move on.

Jamie grabs Derek’s arm in the car again, and Derek leans against him, as well. The warmth and comfort is welcome, although a traitorous part of Derek, the same part that still flutters in his gut being this close to Jamie, equally yearns to change roles, to hold tight to Ryer’s arm instead, lean on him, and feel that selfsame but different warmth for the duration of the car ride.

And with nothing to distract him this time in the peaceful quiet of the car, without conversation to keep up with… Derek acknowledges it. He doesn’t do anything with that feeling yet, doesn’t think too hard on it, doesn’t even really know what it is, but he does, finally, admit that it’s there.

Back at the Last residence, Derek makes himself useful taking the shopping inside. Cove and Elizabeth greet them all, Elizabeth standing imperiously, proud, and Cove rolling his eyes, and they share how much progress they make already in dusting the place from ceiling to floor.

The Lasts all tease and show their appreciation, but Derek only peripherally pays any attention to it. He focuses on their bags and works with Ryer to arrange them.

And the work in earnest begins. They comb the house, cleaning under cushions and in high corners. They put everything in its place. They replace air filters, do laundry, and even shine the windows.

And Derek, who quite dislikes mess and untidiness, finds so much joy in the act of cleaning the place that, despite the fact that the tasks themselves are as boring and tedious as they sound, ends up having quite a bit of fun.

But importantly, it’s not just the tasks themselves (although Derek does find quite a lot of enjoyment in accomplishing them, if not necessarily doing them), it’s that they’re all doing them together. Putting groceries and supplies away is done with Elizabeth as a conductor, ordering every item to the best spot. Dusting is approached like a puzzle with Ryer, considering how best to tackle it so that everything will end up cleanest and no spots are missed. Jamie cleans the upholstery the same way he does anything, with all the enthusiasm and eagerness that is characteristic of him.

Even watching Cove trying to figure out Jamie’s directions, and Jamie’s mom filling in a scratch on their coffee table just feels good. All of them working hard towards the same goal, all in different ways, all complimenting each other.

“Mrs. Last?” Ryer asks at one point, examining closely a small toolset used for jewelry making. A small hobby someone at some point must have decided to try. “Can I borrow these?”

Jamie’s mom blinks away the surprise. “That should be fine. I don’t think anyone uses those,” she says. “What do you need them for?”

“Nothing important,” Ryer says. “I just want to try something later. I’ll bring them back as soon as I’m done.”

They break for snacks, which Jamie’s ma prepares for them while they’re all focused on their tasks, then they’re right back at it. Derek rarely feels this productive. It’s magical.

If he thought it’d be worth it with Nicolas in the apartment, he’d ask his parents to do the same thing back home.

It might still be worth doing, but unfortunately Nicolas is just a little too young to do much besides get in the way. And he would definitely do that.

It’s not like the Lasts’ home is messy in any way before all this. In fact, it surprises Derek just how much they find to do. But all the little neglected things, all the areas that don’t typically receive regular attention, those are the point of today.

If the Lasts really do this semi-regularly, then it’s no wonder that their home is always so inviting. It’s so well cared for, it’s almost moving.

But that’s just how they are. The whole family. The things they care about, they put everything into them. All they have, all their love, it’s there and it shows.

It really is amazing. Derek admires every single one of them.

“Hey,” Jamie says quietly. “Help me with my room?”

Derek blushes, but nods. He quickly finishes up with the windowsill he’s cleaning, then hands the rag to Ryer, working next to him on the next window over.

They pass Cove, who lifts his brow for a moment in question until Jamie shakes his head, smiling cheerily, bouncing down the hall to the familiar room.

Derek follows him in, he closes the door then starts replacing some toys he leaves out to their places on his shelves or in a box.

Not having any other direction, and not wanting to rearrange Jamie’s room, Derek sets on dusting. The window is already open, so he picks a spot to start and gets busy.

He’s just getting into the groove of it when Jamie speaks for the first time since closing the door. “I’m happy for you,” he says.

“Huh?”

Jamie smiles softly. His eyes twinkle, staring right at Derek. “I’m glad,” he says again. “For you.”

Derek blinks dumbly. “Uh… thanks? Why?”

Snickering, Jamie rolls his eyes. “Ryer!” he says. “Your crush!”

“My-” Derek’s brain suddenly stops working when the words sink in. “Excuse me?”

“It’s really cute, you know,” Jamie coos.

There’s a sharp, jolting, deeply uncomfortable moment where the words don’t want to go together in Derek’s head. “Your crush” and “Ryer” clash and scrape like when Derek misses the slot with his key. It screeches, metal on metal, against the lock, unable to penetrate.

Then, just as quickly, the key slides into place and all Derek can think is, “Oh.”

Oh, he’s a moron for not putting it in words before. Oh, he wants to kiss Ryer in the store back there so how is this a revelation? Oh, he’s actually kind of getting over Jamie, though not entirely. Oh, he’s falling for another absolutely, ridiculously unattainable guy. Oh. He’s got a crush on Ryer.

Well… damn.

It’s not exactly a surprise. Derek obviously knows how much he comes to care for Ryer. He just never puts it into those words before, and sort of just kind of assumes that because he already has this crush on Jamie, his feelings for Ryer can’t simultaneously count? Or something?

Like, it’s absolutely a crush, and he knows that from the start, it’s just not something he’s ever going to call a crush, and for some reason calling it that makes it much… different. Or, at least a little.

Almost like the word “crush” implies some kind of intent, and now that it’s out there in the open, now that it’s planted in his head, Derek very much feels that intent, which isn’t there, despite all the feelings themselves being there, before.

Derek… is pretty sure this is a bad thing. At least Ryer isn’t completely in love with someone else? That Derek knows of? In theory, Derek has a better chance than he ever has with Jamie. In practice…

How does Derek get crushes on people who are so different?

Jamie frowns, concerned. “I’m not… just totally off the mark, am I? I’m sorry if I am, I just thought-”

“No,” Derek admits. “You’re right. I just… wasn’t expecting this.”

To talk about it. To acknowledge it. To form this crush in the first place. Derek isn’t expecting any of it.

Jamie rubs his neck, grinning awkwardly. He sits down, then pats the bed next to him as an invitation. Derek dazedly joins him. And Jamie says, “I’m sorry. Really. I…” He sighs. “I’m sorry for bringing it up so suddenly, but… mostly I’m sorry that I never said anything sooner.”

“You always knew,” Derek says. His voice comes out surprisingly normal for how flat he’s feeling inside.

Jamie nods. But he smiles sympathetically. “I knew.” The words hit Derek hard, even though it’s no surprise. Derek is never exactly subtle about his crush. Crushes, now that he thinks about it. “I was always really flattered,” Jamie says. “And I always liked you a lot, too. Honestly, if Cove weren’t here… I probably would have gotten a crush on you, too. I can see that working, you know? But you-” Jamie’s voice falters. He drops his head. “Even if I had given up hope that Cove would realize how obvious I am… you deserve more than to be someone’s back-up.

“That’s why I’m so happy for you!” Jamie’s tone changes suddenly, much more chipper. “You know, selfishly… I never felt like I could mention it. I thought the best thing to do would be to just ignore it. I knew you knew I like Cove, or I thought so, anyway, so… it seemed for the best. But I always regretted that I couldn’t just… have an honest conversation with you? Which, now that it’s happening, it seems kind of silly that I was so scared of it. There’s no reason it should have taken you getting a new crush for me to talk to you like a grown up.”

“Hey,” Derek says, “I was doing the same thing. Like you said, I knew all along that you like Cove. I thought ignoring it was the best thing, too. I’d told myself I’d never let you or him even know about it. Guess I’m not too great at subtlety.”

Jamie grins. “Not really, no. But that’s alright. We love that about you.”

Derek pushes Jamie in mock offense, and he roughly pushes back, and they’re… there’s still a heavy weight in their chests, but they both know they’re good. The weight is there, yes, but there’s no dread, no anticipation. The weight is a heavy one to carry, but it’s not a frightening load to bear.

“But really, Derek,” Jamie says, voice serious once more. “I’m sorry. It was unfair of me not to be honest with you from the start.”

Derek shakes his head. “I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to know. If anything, you were respecting my choice. It’s not like you were stringing me along, or anything. And, for the record, I’m happy for you, too. Cove is pretty great, isn’t he?”

“Isn’t he?” Jamie giggles. “I think Ryer is pretty great, too. Though I don’t know him nearly as well as you do. Got to admit, I’m kind of jealous. He’s so… cool.”

Then it’s Derek’s turn to giggle. “Isn’t he?”

“Do you think he’d let me dress him up?” Jamie asks suddenly. Derek doubts it, but that would be fun to see. “I’ve wanted to since we met him, you know. I’m thinking like a grungy, rock and roll vibe, you know? I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard him sing rock, but he should still lean into that cool side.”

He can’t depart much further from the put-together, Sunday-best style Ryer is usually in, but the vibes are definitely there. Derek groans, covering his heated face from the image that puts in his brain. “Why would you do that to me?” Derek complains.

“Fashion has power, my friend,” Jamie says sagely. “And I wield my power only for good.”

“Liar,” teases Derek. “You use it for evil.”

“Only for good,” says Jamie innocently. “For example, don’t you dare let him know I told you, but did you know Cove really likes anklets?”

“Are you sure it’s not just you?” asks Derek. “You’re always weari- Oooh. Oh. Nope, yeah, definitely evil.”

Jamie playfully gasps. “How can you say that?”

“Take it from someone who has a crush on you. It’s evil. Poor Cove. How does his heart stand it?”

#our life: beginnings & always #Our Life Fanfiction #fanfiction #write

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