This is a high school au. How awkward do you think it’s going to be? Yeah, that’s about right.
Derek pulls himself up and out of Chris’s bedroom window. For a terrifying moment he is airborne, balanced only with his knee and his hands, clutching the sill of the window for dear life. Then he ducks his head through and pulls his other leg in, breathing the cool night air. He makes a startled noise, as he plops down beside Chris.
Chris is picking chickpea remnants from his braces. Derek watches him with morbid fascination, wonders why he thought this would be a good idea.
“Do you think Mrs. Gutierrez is gonna test us over chapter 19 of Frankenstein? Because I didn’t read it and I don’t feel like doing it in the morning,” Chris says, finally, as a car passes by on the street behind them. Chris’s bedroom window faces the backyard, and from up where they are, they can see the houses on the other side.
“Uh, probably. She really likes doing that, to inconvenience you, y'know,” Derek replies hesitantly. He’s not sure how this is supposed to go. Derek hugs his knees closer to himself, the breeze washing over them.
“Probably.”
The silence resumes until another three cars pass.
“Hey, you remember when you first got here, and you said ‘wanna go to the pahk,” and Pat laughed so hard he peed?“ Chris asks enthusiastically, so Derek can hear the laughter in his voice, only just reigned in.
“Yeah. My grandma lives in Queens so I guess I picked that up from her.”
“What’s the difference between Queens and Manhattan?” Chris asks, and Derek pauses. He wonders if Chris actually cares about this, but the half of his face that Derek can see seems to.
“Queens is like, chilled out I guess. Quieter. More like Willow Glen for sure.”
“Which do you miss more?” Chris sprawls his legs out over the tan shingles of the roof.
“Uh, I dunno. I actually lived in Manhattan, and there was just a lot of stuff happening around everywhere. But when I went to Queens it felt more like home.”
“So Queens, then?”
“Well I guess. I think ‘miss’ is the operative word here, because I don’t really miss a lot of things about New York.”
“Really?“ Chris asks, a little startled, “I think I’d miss California.” He sounds like he’s contemplating it thoroughly. Derek wonders if he’s ever even considered leaving. He thinks it must be nice to be so sure about something like that.
“I didn’t really have a lot of friends, man. Not real ones, anyway. And it was weird with my parents, I don’t know. My moms are cool but they’re really busy. Honestly, it was more like I just had two roommates. They didn’t really have time to think about me, I guess. Like, my dad checks my homework and wants to know where I’m at and shit. If I was gone for like two days he’d notice. But I don’t know about my moms.” Derek doesn’t really know when he decided to tell Chris his life story–it feels so weird to just pour his guts out like this.
“D, I’m pretty sure they’d notice if you were gone.” His tone is suspiciously close to pity, and Derek would like to be swallowed whole by this house.
“Yeah, probably. I mean, they aren’t terrible parents. I’d be a lot more fucked up if they were. They were always there for me and shit, it’s just. I don’t know, it’s different with my dad. And I didn’t even know it would be different,” Derek says hurriedly, desperate to smooth out the furrow in Chris’s brow.
“Huh. And you like how it is with him more?”
“Yeah. It’s… I’ve never really felt like I’m the most important thing to someone? Because that’s like, weird, right? But that’s how my dad makes me feel. Like, if I needed him he’d drop everything for me. I mean, he literally bought a house because I told him I wanted to live with him?”
“That’s crazy,” Chris says, and in the silence that follows, he lolls his head towards Derek, and Derek turns his head to look.
“What?” Derek can only see more roof, and the faded night sky. The stars are shrouded no matter where he lives, New York or California, and it’s oddly comforting. He wants to tell Chris about it, but he’s not sure if he can. If it even matters.
“No, D, look at me,” Chris mutters, noticeably quieter.
“Oh.” Derek obeys, and Chris is grinning, the metal of his braces glinting in the warm light of Chris’ bedroom.
“I’d buy a house for you,” Chris blurts, after a few seconds. Derek snorts, shoves him lightly.
“Bro you’re seriously so weird,” Derek can feel his heart beating, hears it in his ears.
“Are you gonna miss San Jose?” Chris’s smile fades and it all feels so weirdly heavy.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Why?”
“I dunno, ‘cause it’s nice all the time?”
“Yeah?”
“Um, and other stuff?”
“Like?”
“Just like, stuff. I haven’t really thought of it.” Derek lies between his teeth, because he knows exactly why he’d miss it here.
“I mean, you’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Chris sits up, avoiding eye contact. Derek swallows, mouth dry.
“I like the stores around here, the food, San Francisco, and the uh- the people,” Derek lists off, gaining momentum, “Will, and- and my dad, and the San Jose Sharks and most importantly… your mom.”
“Oh my god, you’re so cheesy!” But Chris is laughing silently, face scrunched up as a high pitched giggle escapes. Derek didn’t know someone looking ugly could be so cute.
“Also that face. Adorable.”
“Adorable as in- as in I’m like a puppy, right?” Chris doesn’t sound happy. Derek has a feeling he gets it a lot.
“Nah. It’s like, a fuckable adorable? Adorafuckable? Fuckdorable? Fucking Adora-” Derek is cut off by Chris’s hands over his mouth.
“If I let you talk, will you promise to not say fuckdorable ever again?”
Derek nods. Chris moves his hands down to Derek’s neck
“For the record, you are. And I would. Y'know?” Derek whispers, thinking about how his breath probably smells like curry and that’s gross and Chris is going to get a good whiff of it if he keeps leaning in-
“Yeah, I know,” Chris says, still smiling as he presses his lips against Derek’s.
