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Stiles has one major weakness these days. It’s gotten him into a lot of sticky situations, and will probably be the cause of his inevitably gruesome supernatural death one of these days. Right now, this weakness is holding a printed itinerary and talking excitedly about bonding and Allison, and just generally looking very, very happy.
A weekend at the beach doesn’t sound bad at all, to be honest, even if it means he has to watch Scott and Allison make eyes at each other at this weird mindfulness-alternative-health kind of resort. And, hell, maybe four days of yoga and peaceful breathing will be good for Stiles’ stress levels. Besides, the whole thing is paid for, they’re just looking to fill the ticket, after all, and Stiles has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
So, like a fool, Stiles says, “Sure,” and then follows it up with, “Sounds like fun,” and “Can’t wait, looking forward to it already.”
Which is when Scott throws the whole conversation from this dimension into what clearly must be a conversation from an alternate universe by saying, “Great! So you and Derek will have a suite in the same villa as me and Allison, but the only thing communal will be the kitchen. There’s this really cool thing about working out past issues with an intuitive and-”
Wait, hold on, back up. Stiles blinks as his brain catches up. “Derek? What… Derek ?”
Scott gives him a strange look, like Stiles is just not getting with the program here. “Uh, of course, dude, it’s a couples retreat ,” he says, like that’s supposed to mean something to Stiles, like somehow he’s supposed to connect the dots between ‘couples retreat’ and ‘sharing a suite with Derek Hale.’ When Stiles is quiet for just a split second too long, Scott keeps going. “I know you guys haven’t gone public with your relationship yet, which was totally understandable when you were still in high school, but you’re twenty now, Stiles. You don’t have to hide it from us anymore, we already know.”
Scott is patting Stiles’ shoulder and giving him that understanding, sympathetic face. Stiles has no fucking clue what’s happening here, but his brain is desperately trying to make sense of how this has apparently gone horribly awry.
“I’m not…” he manages to get out, but doesn’t actually finish because he can’t even wrap his head around the words ‘in a relationship with Derek Hale,’ let alone his mouth.
“Stiles.” Scott sounds almost disappointed. “We know. The whole pack knows, and we approve. You guys are just better together and always have been. It’s okay.” His phone chimes in his pocket, and Stiles attempts to get a handle on his fucking life while Scott reads a text. “Oh, I gotta head to the clinic. But, listen, we leave tomorrow afternoon to check in around six, so make sure you and Derek are packed and ready by then. It’s gonna be great!”
“We’ll… we’ll drive separately,” Stiles says faintly, and automatically takes the itinerary that Scott hands him.
“Good idea, you guys can talk about what you want out of the weekend privately then.” Scott pats Stiles’ shoulder one more time before he leaves Stiles to slump back against the door of his Jeep and look around the residential street in the hopes that someone will appear out of thin air and injure him so he doesn’t have to do… well, any of this.
Scott McCall is definitely going to be the cause of his inevitably gruesome supernatural death. Stiles’ days are officially numbered, because Derek is going to murder him.
Derek doesn’t kill him, but instead descends into the same spiral of confusion that Stiles had. Stiles has the express pleasure of watching as Derek’s brain shuts down for an entire ten seconds and then tries to reboot again, like an overheated computer on its last legs. Stiles can relate.
“They think we’re dating,” is what Derek finally says. “The whole pack thinks we’re dating ?”
“I honestly think they’ve got the idea that it’s significantly more serious and committed than just dating.” Stiles waves the itinerary around. “I mean… there’s workshops like ‘Sanity in Relationships’ and ‘Releasing the Past through Rewriting Your Love Story.’ This is, like, intense and geared toward couples with long-term plans.”
“We don’t have long-term plans.” Derek sits down on the couch and rubs his forehead in that way he does when he’s starting to get stressed out. “Because we’re not in a relationship .” He looks up then, sharply and alarmed. “Are we?”
“We’re not,” Stiles says quickly. “We just spend a lot of time together.”
“Because we get along.” Derek nods, slow. “We go out to eat a lot.”
“That’s because your kitchen is understocked, and I can’t eat like that with my dad. You always pay.” There’s a dawning horror happening in Stiles’ head. “You never let me pay. They don’t even ask if we want to split the check at the diner anymore.”
“Because I have money and you don’t! It just makes sense.” Derek doesn’t look any less alarmed, though. “You cuddle me on movie nights.”
“You’re warm! I have shitty circulation! You let me!”
“You smell sad when I don’t.”
There’s a beat. Derek is staring at Stiles like he’s just seeing him for the first time, and Stiles completely understands that feeling.
“You keep junk food in your cabinets for me.”
“Your window’s always unlocked, still. I never have to wonder if it will be unlocked, because I just know.”
Stiles sits down on the coffee table in front of Derek, staring at the werewolf. “You listen to my music even though you hate it.”
“I like the way it makes you happy.” Derek sounds distant, unfocused, even though he’s looking at Stiles. “You were here on the anniversary of the fire. You stayed the whole night.”
Stiles nods, slowly. “You fixed my Jeep last time. I didn’t even ask you to, I just told you it needed work and you… did it.”
“You invited me to weekly dinners with your dad.”
“You actually show up for weekly dinners with my dad.” The itinerary in Stiles’ hand crinkles a little in his grip. “The pack thinks we’re in a relationship. I… I think my dad thinks we’re in a relationship. Derek, are we... are we in a relationship ?”
Derek is quiet for a long moment, but he doesn’t look away from Stiles. “I don’t trust anyone else in this world the way I trust you,” he finally says, and Stiles’ breath catches a little. “I know, without a doubt, that you are the one person in existence who always has my back.” He looks a little lost, to be honest, like he’s just realizing all of this. “You never judge me, you never ask me for something I can’t give you.”
Something clicks into place in Stiles’ mind. “You’re the first person I think to call when shit hits the fan. Not because you’re badass and scary and you have the whole teeth and muscles thing going on, but because I know that if I call, you’ll come.” They’re close - Stiles on the coffee table and Derek on the couch, their knees practically touching. Stiles swallows, and finally breaks the intense eye contact. “Sometimes,” he says with all of his courage in his throat, “you do something badass or heroic or smash through a wall or punch someone who wants to kill us, and I get this really intense urge to kiss you.”
“It’s really hot when you show how smart you actually are.” When Stiles looks up, Derek still hasn’t looked away. “Like, everyone knows you’re smart, but when you do that thing where you fit all the pieces together and figure everything out… I don’t know, it just makes me want to throw you against the wall and-” Derek cuts himself off, going bright red.
Stiles crumples the couples retreat itinerary in his hand. “I mean, at this point, it probably wouldn’t change much,” he says, and a little bit of hope unfurls in his chest. “Like, we’re not in a relationship or dating or whatever but…”
Derek finishes for him. “Maybe we should be.”
There’s another couple seconds of silence before Stiles shifts just enough to remember the itinerary still in his hand, the couples retreat that started this whole thing. “We, uh. I told Scott we’d drive separately but it’s still, like, four days so we’ll need to pack if we’re actually going to do this ridiculous thing.”
“Do you think if we just stayed in the suite the whole time they’d kick us out?” Derek asks, and takes the itinerary to examine it. “Because ‘Becoming One with the Vortex of Your Partner’s Soul’ doesn’t sound nearly as good as four days of making out with you on a beach does.”
And really, at that point, Stiles can’t be blamed for anything he does. Long story short, they aren’t packed in time, they show up to the retreat two hours late, and they never go to a single workshop. Scott isn’t disappointed in the slightest, apparently, instead looking strangely smug, like maybe he knows something Stiles doesn’t or like one of his plans actually worked.
In any case, Stiles is entirely too distracted to care.