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Stiles noticed the jar about a week after the housewarming for the newly rebuilt Hale House. It sat on the right end of the mantle in the living room, partially hidden by a frame holding a picture of Stiles and Derek covered head to toe in paint. The mess had been the product of a practical joke gone horribly wrong, but the memory made Stiles smile.
He picked up the mason jar and shook it, watching as the single origami star in the bottom bounced around with a quiet sound. He tilted his head and studied the single blue star, shaking the jar again. He jumped and nearly dropped the jar when Derek growled behind him.
“Put that down.”
Stiles whirled around, holding the jar to his chest and staring at Derek, who stalked forward and yanked the jar out of his hands. He set it gently back into its spot on the mantle, adjusting the frame to hide it even more than it had been originally. Stiles gaped at him until he disappeared out of the room as quickly as he’d appeared.
He’d thought they were past the shoving Stiles around part of their relationship. After all the time they’d spent together working on the house, he’d honestly believed they’d become something closer to friends. He knew they were Pack, Derek had admitted it one night after a few too many wolfsbane-laced beers, but it wasn’t until recently that he thought Derek might actually like having Stiles around.
As he glanced back at the jar and saw the small scratch on the back of his hand from Derek’s nails, he realized he had been wrong. Frowning, he grabbed his hoodie from the end of the couch and decided to head home instead of sticking around for movie night as he’d initially intended. He figured no one would miss him anyway.
Stiles didn’t return to the Hale House until a few weeks later when Lydia insisted he joined her in the library to do some research for the monster of the week. Entering the house using the key that Derek had given to every member of the pack, he paused in the archway to the empty living room. He could see the jar still behind the frame and listened. He didn’t hear anyone nearby, so he entered and crossed to look at the jar again.
He stood on the hearth extension, tilting his head to study the jar. More stars were inside, more than he could count without opening the jar and dumping them out onto the mantle. There were several colors, and Stiles’ fingers itched to open the jar and sort the stars by color. Just as he started to follow his urge, he felt pain in his shoulder and winced as he turned to meet Derek’s unimpressed glare.
“Don’t touch it,” he growled out, and Stiles held his hands up in surrender. As soon as Derek relaxed his grip on Stiles’ shoulder, he darted out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time to get away from Derek and hoping that Derek’s claws hadn’t ripped the shoulder of his shirt.
That night after he’d left, head spinning from all the new information he’d found in the books with Lydia, Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Settling into his desk chair, he opened up his laptop and went to Google. His fingers hovered over the keys for only a moment before Stiles typed in “Origami Stars.” As he began going through the over two billion hits, he absorbed the information on the screen while his mind tried to connect it to Derek and his jar of stars.
It was four in the morning when Stiles sat with a strip of paper and a YouTube video in front of him. Working carefully, he folded the paper until a sloppy looking star was in the palm of his hand. Glancing around, Stiles grabbed the pencil cup on his desktop and poured the contents into the drawer of his desk. He dropped the star into the cup and picked up another paper strip to begin the process again. By the time he fell asleep across the top of his desk, there were fifty-five stars in the pencil cup, and he was no closer to answers about Derek and his jar.
Life for the Pack got a little crazy after that night. The monster of the week turned into the monster of the month, and time at the Hale House was usually spent treating wounds and healing. Stiles honestly forgot about the jar in the commotion of trying to keep everyone alive.
Nearly a year later, the weekend before Stiles left for another year at college, he found himself at the Hale House alone with Derek. The rest of the Pack had decided to go out for dinner. Stiles had passed because he was up to his elbows, trying to reorganize his magical supplies. He could’ve left, but he didn’t want to risk any harm coming to the ‘wolves from the contents. Derek stayed in the building behind the Hale House, working on a woodworking project.
Satisfied with the safety of the storage, Stiles left the study and went downstairs. He jumped when he found Derek sitting on the couch in the living room, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. A wooden chest sat in the middle of the coffee table in front of him.
“I’m heading out,” Stiles said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door.
“Can you come here for a minute?” Derek requested, and the soft tone of his voice was enough to stop Stiles in his tracks.
Approaching slowly, Stiles took the spot next to Derek on the couch. Their legs brushed when Derek sat up a little. He pulled the chest closer to the edge of the coffee table and nudged it to sit in front of Stiles.
“What’s this?” he asked, already reaching for it. “It’s not my birthday, you know.”
Derek smirked and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I know.”
Frowning, Stiles disengaged the latch and opened the chest. Crushed blue velvet lined the interior of the chest. Nestled carefully were several small mason jars. The tops of the lids had notes written in Derek’s careful hand. Pulling one out that said, “When you’re feeling lonely,” Stiles discovered it was full of red stars. Each jar he pulled out contained a different color of stars. “When you need to smile” was full of yellow stars.
“I don’t understand,” Stiles said, looking at Derek, who was still rubbing at his mouth and looking slightly ill.
Derek said nothing for several moments while Stiles studied each of the jars. The last jar was full of black stars and had only the word “Random” written on top. Twisting the lid off, he dumped a couple of the stars into his palm, studying them and noticing a bit of white along the edges. Glancing at Derek, who watched him and gave a minute nod, Stiles dumped all but one of the stars back into the jar.
Working carefully, he unfolded the star and spread the paper strip on the table in front of him. “Africa is the only continent with land in all four hemispheres” was written in Derek’s careful script. Glancing at Derek, he pulled out another star and unfolded it. This one said, “Wombat poop is cube-shaped.”
Stiles burst out laughing at that and looked over to see the corners of Derek’s lips quirk upwards. “Is there a message written on every one of these?” Derek nodded. “Why?”
Derek rubbed his hands over his thighs. “You’re going away to school soon. I wanted you to have something to take with you.”
Stiles bumped Derek’s shoulder. “You folded all of these?” Another nod. “How many are there?”
“Three hundred and sixty-five,” Derek responded. “Enough to open one every day if you wanted to do that.”
“This is really thoughtful,” Stiles said, smiling at Derek and leaning into him. “Did you do this for everyone in the Pack?”
The tips of Derek’s ears burned pink. “Just you,” Derek mumbled.
“Way to make me feel special,” Stiles told him as he started to put the jars back into the chest. He stopped when his eyes caught some engraving inside the lid of the chest. “If every time I thought of you, a star fell, the sky would be empty,” Stiles read aloud. His voice cracked on the last couple of words, and his eyes flew to Derek.
“You are special,” Derek whispered, bringing his gaze up to meet Stiles.
Stiles’ mind raced with memories and images that he fit together into an idea he’d never allowed himself to dare to hope was reality. His hands were shaking as he reached over and took Derek’s into his own, breathing deeply when the Alpha allowed it. “You’re special, too.”
Derek’s smile was bright, and Stiles wanted to take a moment to appreciate it, but there was something he wanted to do more than that. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over Derek’s and gave a mental cheer when Derek used their hands to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. It was over far too soon, and Stiles wasn’t even ashamed of the whimper he let out.
“The Pack’s coming back,” Derek whispered, brushing his nose over Stiles’ cheek.
Stiles nodded, sitting up straighter and closing the chest. Picking it up, he stood to go upstairs, stopping when he noticed Derek’s shoulders drooping. “Well, are you coming?”
Derek rose to his feet. “Where?”
“I wanted to put this in a safe place,” Stiles responded, taking a few more steps towards the stairway. Derek raised his eyebrows. “And I can think of no safer place than an Alpha’s bedroom.” Stiles broke into a run with those words, cradling the gift to his chest as Derek gave chase.
Their footsteps echoed through the house, and the slamming of Derek’s door coincided with the front door flying open. Giggling, Stiles set the chest down on top of Derek’s dresser, running his hand over the lid. He grinned when Derek moved up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist and nose pressing into the crook of his neck.
“I can’t believe you gave me the stars,” Stiles whispered, tilting his head to give Derek better access to his neck. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”
Derek growled against his skin. “Idiot, you deserve the world,” he said. “And I’d give it to you.” Any objections Stiles had were lost when Derek spun him around and pressed their foreheads together. “I swear, I would and will give you the world,” he whispered before picking Stiles up, wrapping his legs around his waist, and carrying him to the bed.