Homoween 2019: Hollywood Coven

Day 10: The Haunting of Fire Island

Derek was really digging these wolf acrobats. Sure, he was supposed to be getting information about the Willman's Wishes underground poker tournament like who had played and there was a rumored entrance from Treasure Island to underneath an old section of the MGM Grand but he was having trouble staying focused.

For one, besides Luke, nobody really seemed to care about the weird jewelry. And for two, the pirate wolves that performed eight times a day in a fake moving pirate ship in front of the casino (where at night a freakin' volcano lit up!) felt like kindred spirits. Part of their day was spent swinging from ropes! With swords! Derek loved it. Didn't even care about the rope burns or sun burns.

They seemed to accept him from the moment he arrived as though he'd always been there. They literally had a Yo-Ho, Yo-Ho chant ala Disney to "induct" him as a new pirate cast member. He fit nice and snuggly into his tight pants and billowing shirt. 

DID HE MENTION THE SWORD FIGHTING WHILE SWINGING ON ROPES?!

Back in the deep of his mind, he knew that he couldn't just switch packs nor could he ignore the possibility that this was a trap. It was kinda weird that they were so open. Nobody in the pirate wolf pack was suspicious of the new comer. They took him at face value, even if he'd only changed one or two letters in his last name. He'd always had tiny doubts in his mind about his life in Hollywood. He'd thought about Hawaii. He'd thought about Vancouver, a permanent move. There were some nice arctic packs that did things like the Iditarod. He didn't really *need* movie star money to be happy.

-And yet-

"Good job today, Heelie!" the head pirate Roger had yipped from the locker room slash med tent.

"I'm sorry!"

"No Derek, it's fine! Adds more realism to the show. Besides, my nose'll heal in no time. I just won't be able to eat spicy foods for a couple of days-" Roger grinned from behind the bruise that was only kept from being awful and massive but virtue of the magic of werewolf healing.

"Do you have good insurance, just in case?"

"Insurance? What do we need with insurance? We're wolves! We take care of our own. Didn't your pack teach you that?"

"My pack is more- progressive."

"I think your pack coddles you, Heelie my boy."

"I'm just active."

"You're a pirate!"

A long pause. "I- I do like it here. But I have commitments."

"You have a mate back home?"

" - No?"

"So join our crew! Officially! Join it tonight!" A beat. "Smee! Just because I'm healing doesn't mean you have to be so rough resetting my nose."

Smee's real name was lost to the ages. He still didn't quite look thrilled with the name. Derek imagined that Smee transformed into more of a squashed bulldog than a wolf during his transformation nights. If they- did that here. 

It was hard to imagine that someone jolly like Roger could be evil underneath it. And as Derek's gaze moved from the med to the locker room section, it wasn't hard to notice how they looked naked under the water. How breathlessly handsome. How masculine. How they pawed and played with each other. 

They were happy. They were happy in a way that Derek often had to manufacture for himself. He felt an ache in his heart he couldn't recall that he'd ever felt before. Maybe the day he'd met Jean Luc but Jean Luc was so busy and Tommy Lee was alpha so Derek often felt both in charge and alone simultaneously.

"You coming, Heelie?" Roger asked, extending a paw out. "Wouldn't want those scalawags getting all the hot water now, would you?"

"No, I guess not-" Derek said. He could live in the moment. For the fighting and the playing in the showers and the pizza after it all. Slices as big as your head because you were a good boy that day. 

He couldn't even share this feeling with Luke. He was sure Luke would tell him it wasn't real. But it was real. The feeling was real and it just wasn't fair.