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“Hey babe, thai for dinner tonight?” Stiles asked. He sat at the dining table, his latest paper written and rewritten on the tablet screen in front of him.
“Pad thai please!”
“Hey can you pass me the menu, then?”
Derek rolled his eyes as he got up from the couch to remove the well-used menu from the fridge. “You were closer, you know. What are you ha - what the? Stiles?”
Stiles giggled as Derek read the note pasted to the front of the menu.
Apollo is the Greek God of Music. His favourite song is It's Too Late To Apollo-gise…
“You know you're not half as funny as you think you are.”
Stiles snorted. “Nope, I'm funnier!”
Derek smiled anyway.
_______________
Derek liked to do the morning puzzles from the newspaper, it was part of his routine. He opened the paper and something fell out. A puzzle, handwritten in what looked suspiciously like Stiles’ handwriting. Derek smiled softly. A personal puzzle, kinda romantic. It was huge, and the kind that spelled out a phrase at the end.
Ten minutes later he frowned at the page, slightly confused.
You thought this was too easy, right?
Is it too late for me to Apollo-gise?
Suddenly it seemed less romantic, and more mysterious. What was Stiles up to?
_______________
Derek climbed quickly into the Camaro, shoving his jacket and bag on the passenger seat. Just before he started the car he noticed the paper stuck to the windshield. Cursing whoever left their random boring flyer there on a day he was already really late, he rolled the window down and tried reaching it.
No dice.
He scowled but got out and grabbed it, throwing it in the backseat before leaving for his interview. It was only when he pulled up at home hours later that he thought to throw the paper away. Something about it caught his eye and he groaned aloud.
You don't like my new poetry?
My deepest Apollo-gies.
_______________
The shower steam fogged up the mirror, and Derek wiped it quickly to check his hair. He noticed in the reflection that Stiles had added a new print to the wall. He assumed it would be an important superhero, considering his fiance had bothered framing it and everything. As he left and switched off the light, he realised he'd forgotten to check out the picture.
So you don't like puns then?
I Apollo-gise.
“Stiles! What's happening?!”
_______________
It was still a little dark when Derek dressed for the day, so he grabbed whatever shirt was on the top of the clean pile Stiles had organised the night before.
It took three hours for someone to notice.
“Derek! I love your shirt!”
He closed his eyes and silently counted to ten. He fought the urge to just rip it off as he looked down. It was a crude drawing of Apollo, wearing sunglasses.
It seems my memes are too dank for you!
I wholeheartedly Apollo-gise.
He was surprised he didn't get a ticket on the way home, and stormed into the apartment. Stiles was at the kitchen island, drinking milk from the carton like a heathen.
“Babe, seriously. If it was funny, I'd understand. But it's not! You're recycling the same old joke again and again. I don't get it. What am I missing here?”
It was clear Stiles was trying his best not to laugh. He looked down at Derek’s shirt and lost it. Pitching forward, he collapsed into a fit of giggles. Between loud breaths he managed to shout gleefully, “You've been Dark Apollo, and you've been Dork Apollo. Well, now you're Dank Apollo!”
Derek barked a laugh and shook his head. “I love you. But by the gods are you weird.”