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Date night was a rare occurrence for Derek and Stiles, they just... they just didn't have time for it. Not with Derek working on Alpha business, Stiles working on emissary business, and both of them dealing with monsters of the week, building a new pack house, the pack in general, and just normal everyday jobs and life. So, when Stiles realised that he and Derek hadn't been alone together in over two months, he decided that he'd had enough of that nonsense. "We're going on a picnic, Derek," he said, as he stormed into the loft.
"Okay. What do you need me to get for it?" Derek asked, without looking up from his computer screen. Stiles could see that he was looking at furniture, with a list of demands sitting next to him on the couch, written by the pack.
"What? Nothing," Stiles said, a little startled by Derek's compliance. "I'm going to do it."
"You're going to get everything together for all of us?" Derek asked.
"What? No! Not all of us! Just us Derek. We are going on a picnic. No pups. One on one. Me and you. Making kissy faces over champagne and pie! Just us, nobody else, just... fuck!" Stiles snapped. Derek finally turned from the computer and looked back at Stiles. He had those stupid fucking glasses on because apparently, degenerating eyesight happened to werewolves when they were in their human forms. When he was shifted his eyes went back to being perfect, but not shifted Derek wore fucking glasses sometimes and they hurt Stiles. They physically hurt his soul, because suddenly Stiles had a librarian kink he'd never known about. And, Derek refused to have sex with him--or even engage in foreplay--with the glasses on, the bastard.
"Just us?" Derek said.
"Moonlight, romance, quiet company with yours truly," Stiles said waving his arms around.
"Quiet company?" Derek asked, raising one of his eyebrows.
"Yeah! It'll be great, just... just us, sitting under the stars. I think evening will be the best time, moonlight for all your werewolfy urges. I know a good spot in the preserve too! A clearing, it'll be very swanky. Blanket, food, flowers, candles, the whole nine yards," Stiles rambled, pacing along the edge of the living room. Suddenly, Derek's hands were on his hips, making Stiles yelp and flail. He hadn't even noticed Derek get up, let alone walk across the room to him. Derek chuckled softly, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Stiles spared a second to be disappointed that Derek took the glasses off before he came over.
"I've never liked quiet company," Derek mumbled against his lips. Stiles made an awkward muffled noise, and then laughed a little.
"Noisy, rambling company then," Stiles said.
"My favourite kind," Derek answered softly, and Stiles was pretty sure his heart stopped. God, he was in love with this man, this glorious, perfect wonderful man.
"I love you," Stiles said, very seriously and Derek smiled at him.
"I love you too," he said back and kissed Stiles again. "When will we find time for this?"
"Tomorrow night," Stiles said.
"I have to--" Derek started.
"Ah, ah, ah! No, I've already called Alpha Brown, and she agreed to reschedule the meeting. I told her that I haven't seen my mate alone for two months. She was appalled, Derek. Appalled. She is planning a date with her mate now too, so there. I'm like cupid, Derek. The romance king. Now let me romance you, you asshole," Stiles ranted, poking a finger against Derek's chest.
"Okay, Cupid, tomorrow night then," Derek said.
"Unless a monster shows up, but if a monster shows up, I will lose my goddamned mind. I can deal with the pups; tell them to fuck off for a few hours. I'll do that tonight."
"I'm sure if you tried hard enough, you could make a monster fuck off too," Derek said. "But, I need to get back to this order, or it won't be done in time."
"That's fine; I'm meeting Erica in 10 minutes anyway. I still need to drive there. Oh, and then dinner with my dad. I'll be back late anyway," Stiles said.
"I'll see you tomorrow then, I'll make sure I'm ready for the romance," Derek said.
"Good, it's gonna blow your--" Derek ducked in and kissed him before he could finish his sentence.
"We can leave it there," Derek mumbled, and let go of him. Stiles watched as Derek made his way back to the couch, picked up his glasses from the table, and put them back on. Stupid, fucking, perfect man, Stiles thought dreamily as he turned and left the loft again.
Stiles didn't really have time to prepare what he wanted to prepare, but when he arrived the next night in the clearing roughly 30 minutes before Derek was due to show up, he was pleased with himself. He spread out a huge checkered blanket that he found at Walmart with Erica last night, and set down an honest to god, stereotypical picnic basket. It was perfect. He had told Derek there would be candles, but instead he created small balls of light and hung them from the trees like lanterns. They were safer, less of a chance for Stiles to set himself on fire, which he was sure he'd manage. He hadn't actually told Derek, where the clearing was in the preserve. Instead, he'd just sent him a text with the spot Stiles was entering the woods and told him to come find him. It wouldn't be hard for Derek to follow Stiles scent, or the smell of the food either. Stiles popped the cork on the champagne, poured two glasses, and then looked up just in time for Derek to appear through the trees. He was dressed in black jeans, and a form-fitting black button up that clung so closely, that Stiles was almost jealous. If one could be jealous of fabric... and Stiles definitely could be. Derek's hands were tucked into his pockets, making him look carefree and happy in a way he didn't often look.
They were older now, both in their 30's with jobs and lives so hectic there wasn't time to stop and just look at each other anymore. But, Derek, holy shit was Derek ageing well. Stiles had always thought Derek was attractive but now, years later, Derek was breath taking. There was grey through his beard and tiny wisps at his temples. His eyes were still bright and focused, but starting to line around the edges. There was an easy smile on his lips now, one that felt natural and at home there. One that made Stiles' heart skip a beat every time he saw it. Derek had relaxed over the last few years, his shoulders drooping slightly, and the way he held himself spoke of easy confidence and power. There was none of the old tension in his shoulders, and none of the power through fear. He had grown into his role as an Alpha like he was born for it. The pack listened to him without question now, slipping into line without worry about his choices. Derek stood at the edge of the clearing, his eyes scanning the lights in the trees before settling on where Stiles was kneeling. His smile got just a little bigger, the corner of his lips quirking up, and making Stiles swoon. He was sure, in that moment, that his heart was so full of love and happiness that he could die right then and it would be okay. He would arrive in the afterlife, and the only thing that would be disappointing would be waiting for Derek to get there too.
"Hey Stud Muffin, come here often?" Stiles said, making Derek roll his eyes and start toward him. Good, Stiles thought, now he wasn't going to explode with cheesy fucking love before the night was over.
"Sometimes, when I catch a good whiff," Derek answered, shrugging his shoulders.
"Gross, never mind, I take it back. The dating, the marriage, the mate bond, all of it. You ruined it," Stiles said, pulling both glasses of champagne to his chest.
"You ruin it first," Derek said, settling down on the blanket next to him. Stiles shifted, offering Derek his glass, and grinning at him.
"To u--" Stiles started, holding his glass toward Derek for a toast, but before he could finish there was a sharp ringing from his pocket. He jumped a little, sending a splash of champagne over the edge of the glass and onto the blanket by his knee. "Jesus," Stiles said, as Derek covered his mouth to hide his laughter. Stiles handed Derek his glass as well and pulled out his phone. Malia's name appeared on the screen and he frowned.
"Just answer it or she'll keep calling," Derek said.
"You'd better be dying," Stiles said, once the phone had connected.
"How do you get blood out of a blouse?" Malia asked.
"How much blood?" Stiles asked, suddenly a little worried.
"Hmm? Oh, I just cut my finger making dinner and bled a little on my sleeve. Like three drops the size of dimes and one the size of a quarter," she said.
"You called me for 55 cents of blood, Malia?" Stiles snapped.
"You always do the laundry when there is blood!" she answered.
"I just throw it out, Malia! We replace clothing all the time!" Stiles said.
"I love this shirt!" she said.
"Just spit on it and dab it was a cloth," Stiles said. He heard her shift a little, spit, and then hum a little as she blotted at the blood. After a minute she made a happy noise and was back at the phone.
"It worked!" she said.
"I know, now fuck off," he said.
"Why are you so moody?" she asked.
"I'm on a date!" Stiles snapped.
"Does Derek know?" she asked, seriously.
"Oh my god, goodbye Malia," Stiles answered, and ended the call.
"A date, huh?" Derek said softly and Stiles scoffed.
"I did tell them," Stiles said.
"They never listen," Derek said, leaning forward catching Stiles lips quickly.
"We've raised awful children," Stiles said forlornly, taking his glass back from Derek.
"To a night of peace, from our awful pups," Derek said, holding his glass in front of him. Stiles laughed, even though he didn't want to, and then clinked his glass against Derek's.
"Yeah, to that," he said and downed half of his glass.
"So, what do we have to eat?" Derek asked.
"I've made roast beef sandwiches, some nasty ass coleslaw for you and a delicious salad for me. I've brought some grapes and watermelon. There are cookies, kettle corn, and some chocolate filled strawberries. And, an apple pie," Stiles said. "I would have done more, but you know."
"How did you even find the time for this?" Derek asked.
"Magic," Stiles said and Derek laughed. "No really, magic. I literally stopped time to make the roast for the sandwiches and the pie. On an unrelated note, did you know there are time gremlins that monitor time to make sure it's functioning correctly? They also have sharp pokey little fingers but are only like... a foot tall? Easily kicked into the distance." Derek stared at him, lips pulled into a concerned looking frown. "So, I can never stop time again, I think they have my blood."
"Stiles," Derek said slowly, but Stiles just rolled his eyes and handed him a sandwich.
"Just eat your magic sandwich, Derek," Stiles said as he unwrapped his own sandwich. Derek watched him, eyebrows raised a little, and a funny little smile slipping over his lips. "What?"
"I've never met anyone, who gets themselves into as much trouble as you do, Stiles. You know that?" Derek said.
"My middle name is trouble," Stiles said.
"Your middle name is Jonathan," Derek said.
"Wow, just call me out why don't you," Stiles said, taking an unnecessarily large bite out of his sandwich.
"Charming," Derek said, carefully unwrapping his own food.
"You love me," Stiles said around his mouthful.
"Sometimes," Derek said. They ate the food in silence, almost like the quiet company Stiles had promised Derek, but different because it was them. Their mate bond was always there, an almost silent companion, humming between them. Stiles handed Derek the container of coleslaw and watched Derek carefully pull it open and start eating. It was stupid, Stiles knew, but he couldn't help himself. Couldn't stop himself from getting lost in moments with Derek. The way Derek was so careful with his food, almost obsessively so, taking small forkfuls but still managing to get some of the dressing in his beard.
"You got a little," Stiles said, wiping at the corner of his own lips with his thumb.
"Saving it for later," Derek answered, but licked the dressing away. It was strange to think, as the two of them sat under the stars and magic lights, that this was their life now. They were what Erica called, painfully domestic, and God Stiles loved it. He honestly loved the way his life had turned out. After all the running and desperate attempts at survival, he loved what this place had become. He loved the way Derek looked in the mornings, rumpled and un-caffeinated when they only had minutes between parting ways. When they had seconds to say good morning, kiss, and say goodbye for the day. He loved finding Derek asleep on the couch, glasses half way down his nose, and the computer still open in his lap. He loved everything about Derek, and when Derek glanced at him and smiled, he was back to feeling like he was going to explode.
"Going to actually eat, or just stare at me all night?" Derek asked.
"Stare," Stiles said softly, and then there was a crashing noise a few feet away. Derek turned to look toward the noise and frowned as it grew louder.
"Isaac and Scott," Derek said.
"Why?"
"Food," Derek answered simply, and Stiles groaned falling back onto the blanket.
"Their patrols don't even come this way," Stiles said to his hands, which he had covered his face with.
"Seems they've made a change tonight," Derek said, and then they were skidding into the clearing.
"Hey!" Scott said around his stupid mouthful of fangs.
"Evening, Scott," Derek said.
"Got any spare food?" Isaac asked as he dropped down in front of the picnic basket. He dug into it without actually waiting, producing two more sandwiches, Stiles salad, and the cookies. "Thanks!" he said brightly, handing Scott a sandwich.
"You're vultures," Stiles said. "Circling my corpse."
"What?" Isaac asked.
"Just take your food and go," Stiles said, but they didn't. Instead, they sat on the edge of the blanket, ignoring how clearly romantic the whole thing was meant to be and talked to Derek about how they hadn't found any signs of the hikers that had been going missing. Stiles sat up as they opened the pie, took the only two forks and started in on it. If Stiles was a lesser man, he would have zapped them both with magic until they were gone, but... but when Isaac started telling Derek about how Scott had managed to trip over a fallen log, and Derek laughed, Stiles found he wasn't that mad. They had finished the pie, cookies, most of the fruit, the strawberries and all the kettle corn before they decided they would head back out. Scott saying he had promised to make dinner that night, and Isaac trailing along behind him like he always did.
"Want one of the last five grapes?" Derek asked, offering Stiles the bowl.
"Welp, this was fun," Stiles mumbled, grabbing three of them and popping them into his mouth. He chewed them messily like he was trying to express his displeasure through that alone. Derek smiled at him, eating the last two grapes, and then setting the bowl into the basket.
"Should have let me help you make food," Derek said.
"See, I made the mistake of thinking, that these fully grown adults could be left unsupervised for a few hours," Stiles said. "I should have told them we were doing adult things. That we were doing taxes and washing all the laundry in the house. Then they would have stayed away."
"Admitting your weakness to the enemy is always a mistake," Derek said.
"Did you just call the pack an enemy?"
"When it comes to us having some time alone, they are," Derek answered and Stiles laughed.
"Come here," Stiles said, reaching out and wrapping a hand around the back of Derek's neck. Derek let Stiles pull him in closer, guide them together until they were kissing. Stiles licked his way into Derek's mouth, tasting the sweetness of the grapes and watermelon in his mouth. Derek's hands found Stiles' hips, yanking him closer, pulling him off the blanket and onto his lap. Stiles wound his fingers into Derek's hair, pulling him back for a second, so he could swallow a mouthful of air, before setting back to work on Derek's mouth. The mild night was suddenly scorchingly hot, making Stiles feel uncomfortably warm in his too many layers of clothing. He could feel the heat and passion pulsing inside of him, rippling back and forth through their mate bond, until Stiles couldn't tell what were his emotions and what were Derek's.
There was another crashing noise near them, and Derek growled angrily as he pulled back from Stiles. His eyes were burning alpha red, sending a new pulse of desire through Stiles. Derek turned toward the trees, still growling as he went. "I'll kill them," he said, but the words died on his lips. Stiles turned, following his eyes toward the tree line. For a second, Stiles didn't notice anything wrong at all. Just the trees, huge and... And way too fucking close together, and, honestly, way too huge. There was another crash, and Stiles realised a tree was moving toward them. Stiles let out a startled yelp and scrambled off of Derek's lap.
"No, fuck you," Stiles shouted. "We're in California, you asshole! Not fucking South America! How did you get here? Did you just walk from El Salvador up? What the hell? How did you manage to cross that many borders? Are there immigration policies in place for your assholes?"
"Stiles," Derek snapped, and Stiles could tell he had shifted behind him.
"I will light your ass on fire!" Stiles shouted throwing his hands up and clapping them together. The air in front of him rippled away from him, and both his hands caught fire. The tree moved closer to them, its branches swinging widely, roots tearing through the ground throwing dirt at plants into the air and toward them.
"What is it?" Derek asked.
"Apparently a fucking Ya-Te-Veo, it's a man-eating tree," Stiles answered.
"From South America?"
"That or it crawled through the ocean from Africa, and I'm not mentally prepared to learn about scuba diving trees," Stiles answered. Stiles knew very little about the Ya-Te-Veo, just that they ate humans and were remorseless. They took what they wanted and refused to stop. Stiles wasn't even sure they could stop if they had enough intelligence for that. It wasn't a creature he had ever thought to worry about. He only knew about it at all, because he had sent Cora a collection of creatures to look out for during her travels. So, when the creatures stuttered to a halt and fucking spoke, Stiles thought he might pass out.
"Fire," it said, barbed branches trembling. "Burn down the forest. Burn us all."
"All?" Stiles managed, and then there was another crashing noise behind them. "Oh my god, there is a ton fucking of monster trees in the preserve."
"You'll catch the whole preserve on fire, it's too dry out," Derek snapped.
"Oh! I'm sorry, let me just tell our wooden enemies there is a fire ban in California at the moment and they'll have to come back at a more opportune time! Let me just call a time out, and get my giant sized wood chipper, Derek! I will leave your werewolf ass to get eaten by these trees, while I just teleport the fuck home!" Stiles shouted as he spun around away from the first tree. He could see two more, crawling closer, knocking other trees out of the way as they went. "Goddamn Hellmouth!"
"This isn't Buffy, Stiles!"
"Shut up, Angel," Stiles shouted. Even though he knew it was a bad idea, he threw a ball of fire toward one of the trees. It was too dry in the forest, and a lot of trees were going to get burnt but that was okay, Stiles could deal with the fire. The ball hit the trunk of the tree, exploding out and away like nothing had happened, but the tree screamed. He threw another ball, this time higher, aiming for the quivering branches. This ball hit and took, the branches trashing with pain and panic as the fire raced along the wood like it was covered in matches.
"There's only the three of them," Derek called, so Stiles nodded and turned on the next tree.
"Killer! Fire maker!" the tree screamed, as Stiles lobbed another ball of fire. This tree caught just as easily as the first one, but this one spun around, sending the fire out onto surrounding trees. They caught too. Stiles ignored it, for now, he couldn't use two elements at once, he needed to burn down the creatures and then he could switch to water. He spun around, racing back across the clearing to where the third one was snapping its branches at Derek. It wrapped the long vine like branches around whatever part of Derek it could reach, but Derek tore through the wood easily. Thick gooey strings of blood red sap dripped from the broken branches, pooling on the ground around Derek. Stiles threw himself between the tree and Derek, letting the branches twist around his burning arms. The Ya-Te-Veo screeched as it pulled away, flailing like the last one had, but the fire spread too quickly. Stiles twisted around, watching the three trees flail and burn like columns of paper. The fire spread, quickly, racing through the dry foliage on the ground and burning away the forest. He had to wait until he was sure the creatures were dead, but it was hard and made a worried panic settle in his chest.
The flames lit the forest like daylight, sending shadows flickering across the clearing making it seem like they were surrounded by people. Derek huddled in close behind Stiles, and both of them watched as the picnic blanket caught fire and burned. The trees kept screaming, sometimes with words, but mostly with horrifying shrieks of pain. Slowly the trees collapsed in heaps of ash and useless dead wood. When the last of the screaming died out, Stiles threw blue-green sparks into the sky, making clouds rush over the sky. It started to rain a second later, a downpour so out of season and intense that Stiles was sure it would make national news. It always did when he really fucked with the weather. The rain soaked them both through, but soon the fires were receding, and people were coming toward them. Stiles could hear Scott shouting his name, racing toward them half-shifted and panicked. "The cavalry," Stiles said, sounding exhausted.
"Just in time," Derek answered as the last of the fire went out. The clearing was significantly larger now, and a lot of trees were collapsing around them. Stiles dug out his phone, making a note in it to come back in a week to magic up some new greenery. "Search the ash for human remains," Derek ordered before Scott and Isaac got too close.
"Missing hikers," Stiles mumbled, turning around to face Derek. He let his head fall forward against Derek's shoulder.
"Got the forest monsters to fuck off after all," Derek said.
"Oh my god," Stiles said. Scott and Isaac found parts of the missing hikers inside of all three trees, and the Sheriff took over moving them. The whole pack arrived soon and set out to search for more of the trees. After a few long hours of searching, they were happy to find there were no more of them.
"I honestly don't know where they could have come from," Lydia said, holding a piece of wood that had survived the flames. It was a strange blue-grey colour that seemed to glisten in the lights from the emergency vehicles.
"Hellmouth," Stiles said, covering his mouth as he yawned.
"Are you still talking about that?" Derek asked.
"Lydia is Cordelia, but how she was in Angel," Stiles said. "Visions and all."
"I don't think Angel and Xander ever made out," Derek said.
"Excuse me, I'm Willow," Stiles said offended. "Well, maybe I'm both. I can be both."
"I don't think Willow and Angel ever made out," Derek said and Stiles hummed.
"Whatever, I'd watch it," he mumbled and shuffled toward Derek. He slipped his arms around him and rested his head on his shoulder. "It's okay... you can be Oz instead."
"How tired are you?" Lydia asked, looking unimpressed at the fact that Stiles was tired.
"I just opened the heavens and quenched the fires of hell," Stiles said dramatically. "I mean, I did start the fires of hell, but... I mean. I dealt with it. I'm allowed to be a little tired."
"We'll finish cleaning this up, just take him home," Lydia said.
"Thank you," Derek answered. Then like the fucking caveman he was, hoisted Stiles up off the ground and over his shoulders. Stiles squawked as he bounced into place making Lydia, Isaac, Scott, and his own father laugh at him.
"Get a good night's rest, kids," John called after him. Stiles slumped forward, his whole body bent over Derek's shoulder and arm. He pressed his face against Derek's back and groaned. Derek carried him past a few other emergency responders, but they were all good enough to just not comment on it.
"I wanted to be having sex right now," Stiles said, muffled against Derek's wet shirt when they were far enough away from everyone.
"There's always next time," Derek said.
"I don't want next time, I was this time!" Stiles whined, but there was no real want behind it. He was honestly glad that Derek was carrying him. He was pretty sure if he closed his eyes, he'd manage to fall asleep being carried.
"What about next week?" Derek asked. "Me, you... and a hotel room in Paris?"
"What?" Stiles asked sharply. He jerked up, trying to twist around, and look at Derek's face.
"I was already making plans for it," Derek said. "I've been rearranging for a while, your boss has agreed to give you time off. I figured the only way we'd have time alone is if we were in another country. I was going to surprise you with the tickets tonight."
"Oh my god the tickets are ruined!" Stiles said mournfully, slumping forward again.
"They're on my phone, Stiles, and it's waterproof. Everything's fine."
"Technology is amazing," Stiles mumbled sleepily. God, he was tired, even with Derek's ass within easy reaching distance, he was just too fucking tired. He heard the Camaro's door open, and he was dropped inside. "Rude," he said but pressed a kiss to the side of Derek's head when the other man buckled him into place.
"Go to sleep, Stiles. I'll get you to bed," Derek said softly. Stiles blinked a few times, before he nodded his head, and fell asleep.