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It was an average Friday night - meaning pack, pizza, and a movie playing as background noise while they talked about whatever had happened in the last week. Derek never understood why his betas felt the need to catch each other up on anything , since they practically lived in each other’s pockets. He couldn’t remember the last day that a packmate hadn’t appeared in his living room or kitchen at random hours, or when he wasn’t receiving a constant stream of messages in the ‘Moon Sluts’ groupchat - name courtesy of his beloved mate and Stiles’ frequent accomplice Erica.
Scott, Allison, and Isaac were tangled up in each other on the couch, Cora was sprawled sideways across Erica’s lap in the large armchair by the fireplace, and Derek had his arm slung over the back of the loveseat across from the trio, which he and Stiles were curled up together in.
“Erica was learning about the Five Love Languages in her human behavior class,” Cora announced around a bite of Meat Lover’s pizza. “Interesting shit.”
“What’s that?” Isaac asked.
“Basically, everyone has a primary love language, and a lot of times, has a secondary, too,” Erica explained. “It’s the way you feel loved. They’re words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, gifts, and physical touch.”
“Scott and Isaac’s are definitely touch,” Allison revealed.
The aforementioned boys smirked at each other and simultaneously said, “Agreed.”
“No,” Allison laughed, swatting them both. “I mean...Like, sometimes I’ll pet their hair and they’ll purr.”
“Yes, thank you!” Stiles exclaimed as he shot up into a sitting position and pointed at her. “Derek does the same thing and it is totally a purr!”
“It’s not.” Derek grunted, and flicked the back of Stiles’ head. “Wolves don’t purr.”
“It is,” Allison argued.
“We aren’t cats,” Cora reasoned. “Cats purr.”
“Then what do you call it?” Stiles challenged her.
“It’s a rumble.”
“Rumbling happily is literally purring!”
“I honestly can’t imagine Derek purring,” Isaac said, looking at the Alpha.
“I don’t - none of us purr,” Derek insisted.
“He’s the biggest softie, you guys,” Stiles said. “There’s a lot of purring.”
“Derek, a softie?” Cora snorted. “You’re nuts, Stilinski.”
“I’m not! Well, maybe - but not about this!” Stiles said. “In fact, I’m not even sure which love language resonates with me the most, because Derek uses all of them with me on a daily basis and they’re all amazing.”
Derek raised his eyebrows and looked at Stiles, because no the fuck he doesn’t. “What the hell are you talking about, Stiles?”
“You, you big softie wolf.” Stiles smiled, fitting himself against Derek’s body again and wrapping his arm around his abdomen.
“I literally don’t use any of them.”
“Uh, yeah...yeah, you do. You’re such a romantic - you’re worse than Scott.”
Now Derek knew he was just messing with him, because nobody was worse than Scott.
“You gotta give us an example, dude,” Scott said. “I’ve seen Derek smile like twice in the past two years that we’ve known him - I can’t imagine him being romantic at all. I thought your relationship was just like you talking and him glaring or something.”
“Why would I be with him, if that was the whole relationship?”
“You like to talk.” Scott shrugged. Isaac nodded his agreement.
Derek was also under the impression that that was their relationship.
“Actually...” Allison looked at Derek thoughtfully. “I might see it...Take the first one: words of affirmation. You guys remember that day Stiles wore the short sleeve shirt and we all freaked out?”
“It was way back at the loft, before they even got together, right?” Cora checked.
The pack night was in full swing, before the door of the loft slid open and everyone fell silent. Stiles hurried into the room, before stopping to put his hands on his hips as he dramatically caught his breath.
“Sorry I’m late,” He panted, slowly making his way further into the living room area of the open floor plan. Everyone just stared at him as if he’d grown an extra head. “What?”
“You forgot something.” Erica pointed out, looking pointedly at his bare arms. His usual flannel or sweater was nowhere in sight, the only thing on his torso being a t-shirt that hugged his shoulders and showed off the arms so rarely seen that it was almost a private part of him.
“I feel like I’m seeing you naked and it’s really making me uncomfortable,” Isaac said, covering his eyes with his hands. “I didn’t even know the flannel ever came off. You wear it to the beach!”
“It’s hot,” Stiles reasoned as he took a seat beside Derek, who was extremely tense and looking intently at the coffee table.
“Yes, you are, Batman.” Erica winked.
“I didn’t even know it was possible for arms to be that pale,” Cora snickered. “Aren’t they supposed to be one of the tannest parts of the body? Oh my Gods - is your ass, like, translucent?”
“Jesus - can we just put the movie on?” Derek urged through gritted teeth.
“They’re like pasty noodles,” Allison said. “It’s cute, though.”
“Awesome, well ‘pasty noodles’ doesn’t really do a whole lot for my self-confidence,” Stiles said, moving his hands up in a mock self-hug to cover his upper arms. “And believe it or not, calling them cute doesn’t really help, either.”
“They are cute, though, bro.” Scott gave him a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You know what you guys aren’t, ever? Funny.” Stiles glared.
“Does anyone have sunglasses? They’re blinding me,” Isaac teased.
“Fuck you all. I won’t wear short sleeves anymore, okay? Can we start the movie now?”
“We’re just kidding - you know you’re a whole meal, Stiles,” Erica assured him as she threw a piece of popcorn at him. “Anyone would be lucky to have those pasty noodle arms around them.”
Stiles motioned towards the television and ground out, “Movie.”
As soon as they began scrolling through the different titles on Netflix, the conversation shifted away from Stiles.
“Your arms are fine,” Derek told him softly, looking straight ahead at the television.
“As much as I appreciate you being a good alpha and comforting the bullied packmate, it’s fine. I know my arms are weird and scrawny - even compared to the girls. Everyone’s just...jacked in this pack.”
“I’m not...it’s not an alpha thing. You look...you look really good,” Derek said as his fingers began strumming anxiously on his thighs. It could have been a trick of the light - but it could be argued that the tips of his ears began to look a little pink. “The short sleeves...they...yeah. Look good.”
“Thanks, Sour wolf.”
“That was the moment I knew they were gonna get together and I almost threw up,” Scott recalled. “No offense.”
“I definitely think that statement is reasonably offensive to my Derek,” Stiles said.
“You should’ve heard Derek’s heart when he was trying to compliment you.” Cora shook her head amusedly. “I thought he was gonna be the first werewolf to die of a fucking heart attack - no cap.”
“Hey, Cora, why don’t you shut the fuck up?” Derek growled.
She laughed and flipped him off with both hands.
Derek remembered how nervous he was that night. It was the first time he’d seen Stiles without a long-sleeved layer and he could hardly think straight. Stiles’ pasty noodle arms were actually soft, mole-dotted, toned arms that Derek (and his wolf) had a thing for. A major thing. He could never take his eyes off of them...the way the muscles in his forearms shifted as he typed away in his frenzied research mode...the way they stretched to reach the coffee mugs from the top shelf of the cabinet...and his personal favorite: the way they flexed when Derek pinned them to the mattress.
“Oh!” Isaac’s voice pulled Derek from his thoughts. “Remember that other time before that, when Stiles researched about gargoyles or something? Derek was trying to make sure he knew he was appreciated or whatever.”
Stiles dropped a thick stack of annotated papers on the coffee table of the loft, and said, “Gargoyles.”
“Holy shit - do we have to read all of that?” Isaac asked.
“Well, I read like thirty times that amount in the last three days and then I printed out and highlighted the most important parts for you guys, so...yes. Read it, before the gargoyles kill your asses for knowing nothing about them.”
“Ugh.” Scott and Isaac groaned while each grabbed a few pages to start with.
“How do you do this all the time?” Derek asked, looking between the stack of papers and Stiles.
“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, confusedly. “Reading? Learned it in elementary school. Hell of a place.”
“No.” Derek rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “All the researching all the time...it’s...it’s kind of amazing. I’ve never seen someone research to this extent.”
“You mean before you met me, you ran in claws first?” Stiles teased knowingly. “I’m glad you guys bring your brains into battle now.”
“I’m serious. You’re really…” Derek trailed. Stiles looked up at him, waiting. “Valuable...to the pack, I mean. You’re...helpful.”
“Pack Human’s gotta play his part.” Stiles shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s definitely not nothing.”
“I can still taste Derek’s anxiety and Stiles’ crush - it was ridiculous.” Cora wrinkled her nose.
“They’ve always been like that...letting out a choking amount of chemosignals whenever they’re in the same room,” Erica agreed.
“ Okay , okay,” Stiles cut them off. “So, what’s the next love language?”
“Quality time."
“They’re always together,” Scott said.
“Yeah, he’ll even stop reading in the middle of a chapter to hang out with you, if you’re sulking,” Isaac added.
“First of all, I don’t sulk,” Stiles argued. “There was this one time, though…”
Stiles collapsed onto the couch beside Derek with a dramatic groan and looked up at the ceiling.
“What?” Derek sighed, keeping his eyes fixed on his book.
“Scotty won’t watch Star Wars with me.”
“I don’t think anybody in this pack will watch it with you ever again - we all know it by heart at this point.”
“So? That makes it even more fun! We could act it out at pack night!” Stiles said excitedly.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
“Hang out with me,” Stiles prompted. When his boyfriend ignored him, he pushed the book out of his sightline as he straddled his lap. Derek raised his eyebrows and tossed the book onto the end table. “Oh, hey, Sour wolf. Since I see you aren’t doing anything, you want to hang out?”
Derek looked at him contemplatively for a moment, before asking, “Are you hungry?”
“What are you offering, Mr. Hale?” Stiles smirked, then slowly ghosted his fingers across Derek’s collar bone suggestively.
Derek swiftly stood up and Stiles yelped as he clutched onto him like a koala, his legs securing around his waist as Derek grabbed his thighs to hold him up. Stiles’ briefly-lived excitement quickly turned into confusion when he realized they weren’t headed for the bedroom.
“Where are we going?”
“On a date,” Derek answered.
“A date, huh? What a gentleman. And here I thought you were raised by wolves.”
“I was,” Derek growled, a hint of a fang in his devilish grin as his eyes flashed red.
An involuntary shiver ran down Stiles' spine and he tightened his hold on the wolf.
“You require a lot of attention,” Derek reasoned.
Obviously he spent 'quality time' with Stiles - he really didn't have much of a choice. If he wasn't watching his boyfriend, who knew what monster he would provoke in his search for entertainment! Stiles had no self preservation instincts.
“He has never once turned me down when I’ve expressed that I wanted attention,” Stiles revealed. “In fact, he actually initiates it a lot, too. At least twice a month, he does this thing when I’ve been researching too long…”
It was nearing three in the morning and Stiles was still a long way from finished in his pursuit to figure out which creature was trying to invade Beacon Hills that week. When it took him ten entire minutes to wrap his head around one paragraph, he figured it was about that point in the night where caffeine was needed.
He headed to the kitchen and leaned against the counter as the coffee brewed, nearly falling asleep where he stood as the sound of the liquid began to trickle soothingly into the glass pot. He startled as the coffee machine was switched off and complained, “What the hell, Derek? That was mine.”
“You need to go to sleep.”
“No, what I need is to - DEREK!” Stiles exclaimed as he was picked up and thrown over Derek’s shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “Ex- cuse me, Derek Hale, but this is rude .”
Derek headed down the hall towards their bedroom without bothering to acknowledge the way Stiles was smacking his back and trying to wiggle from his grasp.
“Listen, Babe, I’m not even that tired. Just another hour or two and I know I’ll find something, okay? Just-” Stiles tried, but stopped when they entered their lavender-scented bathroom, which was illuminated by the dim lights just enough to see the tinted water in the bathtub and the steamed-over mirrors. “This is so cheating.”
“Strip,” Derek instructed.
“You can’t force me to go to sleep when I’m not even tired...no matter how many of my favorite bath bombs you use!”
“Strip, or I’ll help you,” Derek repeated sternly, which caused Stiles to instinctively start shedding his clothes.
Screw Derek and his stupid sexy Alpha Voice and muscles and ugh-
Derek held Stiles’ elbow as he stepped into the hot bath and Stiles moaned as he sank into the water.
“I’m still not tired...this isn’t you winning...but it’s nice.”
Derek smirked knowingly and stripped off his own shirt, quickly breaking Stiles’ from his warm stupor. He knew the drill - he scooted forward slowly so he wouldn’t splash the water over the edge and made room for Derek to slide in behind him. Getting a custom-made bathtub big enough for the both of them was one of the best decisions they’d made.
“I think we should have sex,” Stiles said as soon as he was pulled backwards against his boyfriend’s firm chest.
“I think you need to shut up and relax.”
“You’re no fun.”
“I could get out?”
Stiles stopped talking, because he knew from experience that Derek would actually get out and sit beside the tub for the remainder of the bath. He just laid his head back on Derek’s shoulder and closed his eyes, letting the light tickle of Derek’s breathing brush against his neck and the rhythmic stroking of his fingers across his chest to lull him into a deep relaxation. Gods, he loved baths. And lavender. And Derek. He didn't last long before falling asleep.
“And I always wake up the next morning in bed.” Stiles shook his head with a loving smile. “I don’t know how he discovered my weakness, but he doesn’t think twice about using it against me whenever he sees fit.”
“You need sleep,” Derek shrugged unapologetically.
“Why don’t you draw me baths with relaxing bath bombs?” Erica pouted, looking at Cora. “I got with the wrong Hale.”
“Because whenever we take baths together, nobody falls asleep...and water gets everywhere.” Cora cocked an eyebrow at her and Erica bit her bottom crimson-painted lip.
“Fucking - can you not talk about this?” Derek grimaced. “I don’t want to know about my sister’s sex life - thanks.”
“I second that.” Peter made his presence known as he walked into the living room from the kitchen.
“What the- when did you even get here?” Stiles asked, turning in Derek’s arms to look at the older Hale.
“I’ve been here.” Peter shrugged. “Anyway, that touching little story was an example of the acts of service love language.”
“You’ve really been here this whole time?” Isaac asked him.
“It doesn’t matter.” Erica waved him off. “Next up: gifts.”
“Every couple ever gets each other things.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’ve given Stiles something here and there, just like he’s done for me. It’s not romantic - it’s just...part of being in a relationship.”
“I actually have one for this.” Peter ignored him. Everyone looked over at him eagerly as he sat on Stiles’ other side, which caused the human to shift more against Derek - practically in his lap. Derek didn’t mind in the slightest. “Okay, so I noticed it started probably a month or two before they started dating.”
Peter stared at the Warm Vanilla Sugar Bath & Body Works lotion and soap bottles standing at the back of the counter by the mirror. Derek had hated artificially-scented toiletries since he was little, so it was rather odd to see them in the bathroom of his loft. Maybe one of the girls put it in? It made no sense why he’d keep it, though.
He washed his hands - wow, the scent was strong - and walked out into the living room, where Stiles was laying upside down on the couch with his legs up over the backrest and Derek was reading beside him.
“I have to pee,” Stiles announced.
“Do you want a gold star?” Derek asked monotonously.
“No, I want a rainbow star.”
“Is this you coming out to me?”
“Do I really need to come out for everyone to know that I like men? I thought I was pretty obvious.”
“You are,” Peter assured him.
“Oh, hey, Zombie wolf.” Stiles sat up on his elbows to look over the back of the couch at him. Peter flashed him a smile in greeting.
“Just go to the bathroom, Stiles,” Derek told him. “If you piss on my couch, I will rip your throat out.”
“With your teeth?”
“ Go.”
“Fine,” Stiles groaned, then slid off the cushion and crashed to the ground unceremoniously.
“The grace of a dancer, that one,” Peter noted as Stiles hurried towards the bathroom.
Derek huffed and nodded.
“Is there a reason he’s here? Doesn’t he have a house?”
“Don’t you?” Derek challenged.
“Touché.”
Nearly a full minute of peaceful silence passed, before Stiles came back, bringing the intense scent of Warm Vanilla Sugar with him. He sat back on the couch as he rubbed the lotion into his hands and put them up to his face to inhale deeply.
Then it clicked for Peter why they were in the bathroom. They were for Stiles.
"I knew I wasn't the only one who thought Derek's sudden affinity for Bath & Body Works was weird!" Cora exclaimed. "I was so confused when he turned into one of those people."
"You hate them?" Stiles squeaked, alarmed.
"I don't hate them," Derek said, but Stiles looked very unconvinced. "Not anymore, at least. I used to, but they're fine now. Just like your stupid bath bombs and essential oils."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"He was trying to win your heart - why would he criticize your horrible obsession with offensive toiletries?" Erica reasoned. "Which is seriously one of the most romantic things I've ever heard, by the way."
Derek wasn't romantic, he was just...he was...why was this weird? Wasn't it normal to try to make your mate comfortable and happy?
“So that’s four out of five love languages...and the last one is touch, right?” Allison asked.
Erica nodded.
“That’s easy - they’re always touching,” Isaac said.
“Not always,” Derek feebly tried to argue, but there was no point and they all knew it.
Everyone decided to point out instances, anyway.
“You cuddle on that couch at every pack night.”
“And you always wrap around Stiles while he’s drinking coffee in the morning.”
“You scent him like every time he leaves the house - sometimes it’s almost impossible to even smell him.”
“You always have your hand on Stiles’ knee during pack meetings.”
“I haven’t seen you guys leave the house without holding hands in over a year.”
"Okay, fine," Derek relented.
“You're totally more romantic than Scott,” Allison said, an affectionate smile on her face as she looked at the alpha and Stiles. “It's really sweet.”
“It is...but I can never look at you the same,” Isaac agreed. “I see the hopeless romantic softie within now.”
“Shut up,” Derek growled, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Those are literally the bare minimum aspects of a relationship. Making your partner happy is literally your job as a boyfriend. If you guys aren’t doing that stuff, that’s your problem. It doesn’t make me a softie or romantic.”
Except it did, and Derek damn well knew it. He was inarguably a hopeless romantic now that he was looking at their relationship under a closer eye, and he really wished he could be more upset by it.
But in all honesty...it was a small price to pay to make Stiles happy, and he knew he’d be doing it for as long as the human kept him around.
Hopefully that meant forever.