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- Farmer’s Market
It was their first sleepover since Stiles turned eighteen and it was deemed “legal” for them to be together. The sheriff hadn’t been thrilled to learn of their relationship at first, but he also knew that happiness was fleeting and didn’t begrudge anyone—least of all his son—a chance at it. So he allowed them to date, with certain parameters to be followed prior to Stiles’ eighteenth birthday. The most important rule was, of course, “No sleepovers, no exceptions!”
John Stilinski didn’t delude himself into thinking that Hale and his son weren’t doing things of a *shudder* sexual nature, but for propriety’s sake, he had to be seen enforcing the rules. He was an elected official and if he didn’t look like he was at least trying to follow the law where his son was concerned, the community would likely rethink their votes come the next election.
So, school was out, Stiles was of legal age, and he planned to spend as many days and nights at Derek’s loft as realistically possible. He and Derek celebrated their very first sleepover by making love until Stiles literally passed out late the previous night—or possibly very early this morning. And now Derek was rousing him with kisses and gentle nudges and, “It’s still dark out,” Stiles groaned and pulled the pillow over his head.
“You said you wanted me to do everything I normally do; not to change my routine for you, but to include you,” Derek said between kisses along Stiles’ shoulder blades.
Stiles croaked, “Yeah, so,” as he tried to burrow further into the blankets.
“So it’s Saturday and on Saturday we get up early.”
“But whiiiieeeey?” Stiles whined and tried to hold on to the pillow that Derek was dragging away from him.
“Because if we don’t get there early enough, everything good will be gone,” Derek said as he tossed the pillow aside and left the sleeping area.
“Gone from where?”
“Get up and you’ll see,” he called.
So Stiles dragged his tired and aching body from the bed, showered quickly, dressed and followed Derek down to the Camaro while the sky was just beginning to lighten. They drove for about thirty minutes in companionable silence until Derek pulled into the parking lot outside of, “A farmer’s market?”
“Yes. You’re going to love it,” Derek grinned and Stiles was instantly excited. Anything that could make Derek smile had to be a good thing.
They started off at a little stand that served croissants and the best coffee Stiles had tasted in ages. Once he had caffeinated his boyfriend, Derek took him by the hand and walked him through the stalls of the farmer’s market.
Stiles was like a kid at the toy store. He wanted to stop and look at every piece of produce--he wanted to buy everything they passed. “Derek, how did I not know about this place? Everything looks so bright and fresh!” he exclaimed.
“Everything here is locally grown and certified organic. My family used to shop here.”
Stiles stopped mid-step, pulling Derek to a halt with him. He tightened his grip on his hand, rubbing his thumb over Derek’s. He smiled up at him, squinting from the sun, “And you’re sharing it with me?”
Derek smiled back at Stiles, giving his hand a return squeeze, “Of course I’m sharing it with you, Stiles… You’re my family now.”
“Derek…” Stiles choked.
“It’s not going to be easy for me, and there will be times when you’ll probably regret loving me—”
“—never!”
“But I promised myself that if we did this, if we became us, that I would try. I want to try with you Stiles.”
Stiles couldn’t stop the smile from taking over his entire face—his entire body. He felt giddy with happiness at Derek’s confession. “So, I’m going to become one of those ‘organic’ people.”
“Absolutely, in fact, I think we should work on converting your father—it’ll be better for him.”
Stiles stopped again, this time to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and press an unexpected kiss to his lips. “You know what makes me happiest. I love you for that. Dad will for sure hate you, but you can’t win them all.”
“As long as you’re happy, I’ll risk it,” he grinned, kissed Stiles quickly, and then returned to his tour of the market.
Stiles was awed by the raw honey in gallon jars, fresh fruit and vegetables, the freshly made pastries—they bought a cherry pie to soften the blow of all the fresh greens and fruits they bought for Stiles’ dad. They planned to raid the fridge in the Stilinski home immediately after their trip to the market.
As Derek was showing him the best tricks for picking apples, Stiles murmured, “So Saturdays at the farmer’s market?”
“Yeah?”
“I can live with it,” Stiles shrugged nonchalantly.
Derek just smiled and pulled him along to find the best watermelon for the upcoming barbecue. They weren’t quite in season, but there were still good ones to be found…if you had a werewolf boyfriend who could sniff them out...