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Derek sighed after he heard the knocking on his door for the third time. The last thing he thought he needed at that moment was a visitor and he certainly could not think of any reason that would change his mind. He picked his t-shirt up from the floor and slipped it on. He sighed once more as he climbed off the couch and went to greet whomever felt the need to disturb him.
"Hey," Chris said with a grin that quickly faded. "You don't look so great. Are you okay?"
Derek shrugged. "Just a bit tired. What do you need?"
Chris glanced down at the black leather bag he was carrying. "Well, I wanted to come by and thank you. For the whole thing at the sheriff's office. The bomb and saving me and all of that. I realized I never did thank you properly."
"You don't have to, you know. It's not like I would have considered doing otherwise."
"I know," Chris responded with a nod. "But I figured I could at least toast to you over a glass of wine, maybe?" He held the bag up and tapped it with his other hand. "And I figure we could both use the company."
Derek seemed to consider Chris and the bag for a moment before he turned around and walked back into his apartment. "Come on in, then," he muttered and then dropped back into his former seat on the couch.
Chris closed the door as he entered and made his way over to sit next to Derek. He pulled a bottle out of the bag and set it on the small table in front of him. "Do you have a corkscrew?"
Derek leaned forward and picked up the bottle. He extended the claws of his free hand and jammed one into the cork. He pulled on the bottle and removed the cork with a pop before setting it back on the table.
Chris grinned and shook his head. "You do have glasses, don't you? Because I'm not drinking out of your claw."
Derek flashed Chris a confused look before standing and walking over to what Chris assumed served as Derek's kitchen. A few seconds later, he returned to the couch and handed Chris two paper cups. Derek saw Chris raise his eyebrows. "I don't care for washing dishes and since I rarely cook..." He shook his head and then settled back down on the couch.
Chris poured a bit into each of the glasses and then handed one over to Derek. "I want you to know I really am grateful. I know you said it doesn't matter, but it does to me."
Derek sipped from his cup. "If you think I did it to atone for anything else I've done, I didn't. I've long made peace with the fact that I can't change the past."
"I think we all have," Chris agreed. "We can only control what we do in the present and the future."
Derek lifted his cup and smiled. "Now, there's something I can toast to."
Chris tapped his cup to Derek's. "So you don't still want to torture and kill me?"
"You know that I wasn't myself," Derek answered with a frown. "We already discussed this, I thought. And besides," he turned toward Chris and flashed his fangs, "if you were worried you should have asked that before you allowed yourself to be all alone with me in my own apartment."
Chris shook his head and laughed. "Just thought it was worth checking."
"I do have more than enough reason to think you deserve it, you know. It's not that I couldn't at least feel somewhat justified."
Chris looked away for a moment and then poured himself some more wine. "I think we can both agree that we've done what we thought was necessary to protect the people we love. Even if it wasn't for the best in the end, it was what seemed right to us at the time."
They were both silent for a moment until Derek lifted his cup again. "Truer words have never been said."
Chris reached up to tap his cup to Derek's and missed, his hand brushing against Derek's and the contents of the cup spilling out onto Derek's t-shirt. "Shit, I'm sorry, Derek."
Derek laughed and pulled his t-shirt off, throwing it behind the couch. "Just an old t-shirt, really. But in the spirit of evening the score," he said before dumping the contents of his own cup onto Chris's shoulder.
"Are you kidding me?" Chris asked, trying to stifle a laugh. "And here I thought you were having one of your 'sullen and brooding' evenings." He pulled his own shirt over his head and set it on the floor next to his bag.
"How do you know I wasn't?" Derek asked as he leaned over and refilled both of their cups. "Maybe your company has snapped me out of it completely."
"I don't know about that," Chris said. "Though I'd rather see you smile than frown."
"I could say the same about you, too, you know," Derek replied.
"Well, I figure we can feel sorry for ourselves or we can figure out how to move on. You never forget them, but you can let the fact that they're gone keep you from living."
Derek reached over and put an arm around Chris. He pulled him into a half-hug across the couch. "I know. Believe me, I know."
Chris looked up into Derek's eyes. "There's something else I think you should know, too."
"I already do," Derek replied. He smiled for a moment and then leaned in and pressed his mouth to Chris's lips.
Chris smiled brightly when Derek pulled back. "How? You mean--"
"Chris," Derek answered with a laugh, "this is the fourth time you've felt the need to thank me for something in the past two weeks. And I'm pretty sure this is the second time its been for saving you at the sheriff's office."
Chris shook his head. "I guess I'm a bit more transparent than I thought."
"Yes, well, I'm clearly more obtuse that one should be."
"So, what does this mean?" Chris asked, letting his hand slide down to rest on Derek's leg.
Derek shrugged, stopping to take note of Chris's face. There was a spark that showed up whenever he did that, and he realized that was the reason he seemed to shrug more often whenever Chris was around. "I'm not done enjoying your company," he answered with a nod toward his bed.
Chris leaned in and kissed Derek again. "Neither am I. And there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now."
"Then it's settled," Derek said as he stood. He reached down and lifted Chris from the couch and carried him over to the bed. "Now it's my turn to thank you...for everything."