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The morning was one of those days that Derek was afraid he’d wake up to their mugs scattered across the fire escape, or worse, the front walk of the building, all so Stiles could make a joke. However, it was muggy. Even in his t-shirt and jeans, Derek was baking without even being in the sun. He could only imagine how Stiles felt in a full gown and trencher.
Four years. Derek and Stiles had lived together in New York for four years, and today, it came to an end. Today, Stiles graduated.
For the second time, Derek watched Stiles walk across a stage, wave to the crowd, nearly trip over the hem of his graduation gown, and accept his diploma. Only this time, Derek did it from the audience with his small collected family. John sat next to him, along with Melissa and Scott, who Derek had flown out as a surprise for Stiles. And a surprise it had been... for the guests.
The last thing any of them had wanted to see after hours of travel across the country was Derek and Stiles lazily making out on the couch in their shared loft. In their defence, Stiles hadn’t known they were coming, and Derek, well Derek, had wholly lost himself the moment Sties had smiled at him and said, “I can’t wait to start the next chapter.”
As soon as Stiles’ name was called, Derek was on his feet cheering and whooping. The massive embarrassment he felt was worth it because Stiles turned bright pink as he laughed in delight and proudly shifted the hanging tassel from one side to the other.
“I’m so proud of you,” John said, a small waver in his voice when Stiles finally found them after the ceremony. He hauled Stiles into a crushing embrace, “Your mom would be proud of you too.”
Stiles furiously wiped at his watery eyes over his dad’s shoulder. “Thanks, dad.”
Derek was next. A quick peck on the lips, a smile, and a lingering hand on his shoulder before Stiles was swept up in the warm, motherly embrace of Melissa McCall.
“Dude!” Scott cried when his mom had finally let his best friend go. “Dude, you did it! This is so awesome.” He dragged Stiles into a hug, too, pounding the human on the back with enthusiasm. “I can’t wait for you to come home. It’s going to be great.”
Stiles’ body language shifted in seconds from loose, happy, and inviting to tense and closed off, and Derek could only watch steps away.
They had both known it was coming. How could they have not?
“Scott,” Stiles said, but the true alpha was still babbling excitedly about how great it would be for them to both be back in Beacon Hills. “Scott!”
Scott stopped, mouth still hanging half-open. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he asked, only now picking up on the steadily souring scent emanating from Stiles, and surprisingly, John. “Stiles?”
“Maybe we should go somewhere a little quieter?” Derek offered.
Parents, students, and faculty milled around them, offering their congratulations to the graduating students. Most paid them little mind, but a few curious gazes lingered. Derek felt the weight of a particularly interested mother. She had been eyeing him since the ceremony and was now only half-heartedly doting on her son a few yards away.
“What about the pub with the great wings by your place?” John suggested a little too eagerly.
“Dad!” Stiles exclaimed.
The awkwardness was momentarily forgotten in favour of fussing over his father’s lack of self-preservation. Derek couldn’t help the small grin that spread over his face.
“What? It’s a celebration,” John said. “Let me live a little.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Stiles argued. He threw his hands up in the air and stomped a foot on the lawn.
Derek chuckled and rested a hand on Stiles’ back. “The pub has salads too,” he reminded much to John’s chagrin. And they were off.
Stiles shed his gown halfway across the lawn with little ceremony, crumpling it into a ball that somehow Derek ended up carrying tucked under his arm. But it was fine because Stiles was animatedly discussing the merits of the subway system and how Beacon Hills should have finished theirs. Lucky for Derek, they never did because it had made an optimal place to hide a small pack of new werewolves.
Every once in a while, Derek thought about Erica and Boyd. That wound still ached like the blow had been struck only yesterday. He’d failed them in so many ways. Occasionally, he even talked to Isaac, but it was becoming less and less frequent.
The pub was crowded, but their small group still managed to find a table relatively quickly. Stiles was already ordering a cold drink before they’d even finished taking a seat, which had the waitress laughing. John immediately struck up a conversation with her in hopes of winning her over to his side.
“Don’t you dare give him anything deep-fried,” Stiles said.
“Stiles!” John groaned in exasperation. “I’m a grown man.”
Everyone laughed at Stiles’ sputtering protests as John proceeded to order a bucket of Buffalo wings. Derek took pity on his boyfriend and wrapped an arm around his waist so he could reel Stiles in for a peck on the cheek, then ordered the greasiest burger on the menu.
“Oh, for the love of Pete!” Stiles exclaimed. He smacked Derek in the chest. “You could at least try to help by setting a better example.”
Derek raised an eyebrow. Unhealthy food had no effect on him whatsoever with his supernatural metabolism. He wasn’t even sure he could have a high cholesterol rate.
“That actually sounds pretty good,” Scott said, completely disregarding Stiles’ ranting. “I’ll have two.”
“Two?” The waitress repeated. “You mean, you’ll have that too.”
“No. I’ll have two,” Scott confirmed.
“You know, what,” Stiles said. “Dishonour on you! Dishonour on your cow!”
“Ha! Cause it’s a burger,” Scott laughed.
“What? No!” Stiles facepalmed. “How are we friends?”
“I think I’ll have the chicken salad wrap, please,” Melissa quickly interrupted. “With a side salad.”
Stiles beamed at her. “This is why you’re my favourite,” he said, then promptly ordered a slice of chocolate cake to go with his pint of lager in lieu of a meal.
“Jesus Christ, Stiles,” John said, and as the waitress scurried away, the bickering began anew.
Melissa looked about ready to pop several painkillers, and Derek couldn’t blame her. His boyfriend was the most ridiculous person he’d ever met, and she’d had to deal with him much longer. But by the time their drinks arrived, the table had relaxed. Derek discussed the game from the night before with John. At the same time, Stiles asked Melissa a string of rapid questions about the best way to treat various injuries while Scott pretended to gag.
Stiles downed half his drink the moment it was set in front of him.
“So, do you guys need help packing? Scott said after his own sip of the sparkly drink he’d ordered. “Mom and I fly back in a few days, so you know, we can help.”
Stiles choked. Gently prying the glass out of Stiles’ white-knuckled grip, Derek patted him on the back.
“Uh, look, man...” Stiles suddenly found the swirls in the wood grain of the tabletop in front of him fascinating.
“I won’t break anything!” Scott protested.
“Tell that to my limited edition black and white Amanda Connor Batman statue,” Stiles shot back. He immediately deflated, glancing at Derek in a plea for help.
“How’s the pack?” Derek asked.
“Great!” Scott replied, and he was off. Liam was better at managing his anger, and Malia finally found a job with the forestry department that she enjoyed. The younger members had graduated. Nothing major had threatened the town, but they had small run-ins with other packs and new creatures drawn to the Nemeton’s power.
“Fewer reports of animal attacks and killing sprees,” John added with apparent satisfaction. “Parrish has been a live saver. I’m going to put him up for promotion.”
“Yeah,” Scott agreed. “It’s great having someone on the inside, but it took us forever to figure out it was a wraith haunting the public library. And then how to banish it. Dude, how did you do it? Research is hard.”
Stiles shrugged and scratched his arm until red lines appeared on his far to pale skin. “I like figuring things out.”
“It’ll be so much better when you get back,” Scott said.
“Yeah, about that.” Stiles blindly groped for Derek’s hand. “Things have been good. Derek and I found balance. We can both sleep through the night more often than not. I feel more alive than I have in years. I’m not constantly looking over my shoulder.”
Melissa was smiling sadly at Derek and Stiles, but her eyes were understanding. Beacon Hills had taken so much from them. It was like a poison slowly sapping them.
“What are you saying?” Scott asked slowly.
Stiles glanced at his dad, who nodded, and Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand. “We’re not coming back to Beacon Hills.”
The waitress popped up with a heavy-laden tray of their food. “Hey, guys. Hope you’re hungry!”
No one said a word.