You'll always be running

After an evening of vigorous cuddling, Derek found himself awake. And back in his right mind.

And handcuffed to a bed.

If that wasn't enough to make him extremely uncomfortable and ticked off, there was someone drooling on his chest. The same someone who had handcuffed him to the bed in the first place.

He gritted his teeth, tugging hard on the handcuffs until the metal creaked and groaned under the strain. Someone was going to die for this weekend. Die horrible. He would murder the island itself.

[[for the mate-no-more, up early for le slowplay]]