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I was so lost, didn't know what to do with myself
I was my own worst enemy
I was lost and know I needed help
Then you came along and saw the state I was in
You picked me up when I was down
Showed me how to live again
The afternoon sun pours into the bedroom as Derek traces his finger along Stiles’ back, connecting the moles in an imaginary constellation. They had been up most of the night, tracking a feral omega through the preserve that strayed too close to the new housing development, not getting to bed until the first light of dawn was starting to break through.
Stiles rolls over, his eyes soften with a smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says.
Derek drops his hand to the bed. “That’s today?”
“Yes.” Stiles leans in and kisses him, soft and sweet.
“Oh.” Derek lies back and throws his arm over his face, trying to make a last-minute plan of a gift or dinner or something. “I need to run out for some milk.”
“I picked some up yesterday,” Stiles says and crawls onto Derek, straddling his waist. “Nice try though.” He leans his hands on either side of Derek and bends down to kiss him.
“I’m sorry,” Derek says against his lips. “I’m not usually bad at remembering important dates.”
Stiles laughs. “Valentine’s Day doesn’t matter as long as we get to spend it together.”
“Well I have a very busy schedule planned for today, but I’m sure I can squeeze you in,” Derek says, running his hands up Stiles' thighs.
“Hm,” Stiles says. “Between your two p.m. brooding and four p.m. ‘pretend I’m doing work but really I’m just online shopping’?”
“How does three fifteen to three thirty work for you?” Derek teases.
“You know quick and dirty always works for me,” Stiles says, and then pecks him on the lips before getting up. “Someone was a magical genius last night and set the coffee maker up before we went to bed so all we have to do is turn it on.” Stiles pulls on Derek’s sweater, pausing in the doorway to add, “It was me, I’m the magical genius.”
Derek smiles as he watches Stiles scurry out of the room. Four years together. In some ways, it doesn’t feel like that much time has passed, and in other ways Derek barely recognizes who they are anymore. They aren’t Derek and Stiles, two individual people; they're Derek and Stiles, a team, partners in everything they do. At least that’s what Stiles always told him.
Since Stiles graduated law school and moved back to Beacon Hills, his things have started to show up at Derek’s apartment. There’s a stack of law books on the living room bookshelf, and half the bedroom closet is an unorganized mess of plaid shirts and hoodie zip-ups. Even the furniture in the living room had been rearranged so it "made more sense”, and now the bookshelf is home to a howling wolf figurine that Stiles said, “spruced up the place” between fits of laughter.
And Derek is terrified. Every day he’s startlingly aware of everything he could lose, even after nights like last night, where Stiles was careful and skilled while helping to capture the feral omega, Derek’s mind still drifts to thoughts of one day not being able to protect Stiles, that maybe one day they’ll be too late to save him. After four years, he still can’t shake the terror that came along with loving a fragile human.
“Oh no, did the brooding start early?” Stiles flops onto the bed with a bag of chocolate bought from the bulk bins in the grocery store. “Chocolate covered almond for your thoughts?”
“I’ll pass.” Derek stretches across the bed. “Stiles... I don’t think you should come with us when we do things like last night anymore.”
Stiles freezes with a chocolate against his lips. “Why?”
"The pack is big enough now we can pick anyone else.”
“It’s always been me and Scott,” Stiles chews the chocolate, continuing with a mouthful, “and you.”
“What if something happens? What—what if I lose you too?”
Stiles moves up the bed to sit next to Derek. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re stuck with me? You’re not going to lose me.”
“We can’t control what happens.”
“We’ll never be able to control what happens. Do you want me to stop driving? Because it’s more likely I’ll go out in a car accident than a werewolf attack. No more flights? No more going out in public just in case I catch the influenza?” Stiles takes Derek’s hand. “I’m human, a million things could take me out at any given moment—”
“This isn’t exactly helping your case.”
Stiles’ smile softens. “I know it’s terrifying, I’ve confronted my own mortality more times than I’d like, but you can’t smother me in bubble wrap and hide me away from the world.”
“Sure about that?”
Taking the twist-tie off the bag of chocolate, Stiles holds Derek’s hand and wraps the twist-tie around his ring finger.
“What are you doing?” Derek asks.
“Promising,” Stiles says. His tongue peeks out of the corner of his lips in concentration.
“Promising what exactly?”
“Forever,” Stiles says with a smile. He lets go of Derek’s hand, there’s a faint scent of anxiety as he raises an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
Derek holds his hand up, looking at the makeshift ring on his finger. The silver catches in the sunlight. “I’ll take it.”
Stiles tackles him back onto the bed, pressing their lips together in a hard kiss. “You protect me, and I protect you, remember?” Stiles says, hovering over Derek.
“I remember.”
“Good,” Stiles whispers, brushing his lips against Derek’s before diving back in.
They get lost in the kiss, as Derek often does when Stiles’ mouth and body are part of the equation, eventually Stiles pulls away after his stomach growls with hunger.
Stiles rolls off of Derek. “Breakfast time,” he announces. Derek opens his mouth to say something, and Stiles cuts him off. “Yes, don’t worry, I’ll make waffles, not pancakes. I think we even have some frozen strawberries left we could make sauce out of.” He leaves Derek behind in the bed.
The twist-tie is still wrapped around Derek’s finger. It doesn’t seem like a marriage proposal. But it also doesn’t seem like it wasn’t a marriage proposal. Derek rubs his face, now he’s starting to sound like Stiles.
Derek gets out of bed to make sure Stiles doesn’t burn the waffles again when he inevitably gets distracted by something.
In the kitchen, the batter is already mixed in a bowl and bacon cooks in a pan. As Stiles pours hot coffee, he sings along to the music he has playing.
The smile that appears on Derek’s face is one that creeps up on him often. When Stiles comes out of the bedroom in Derek’s pajamas and crawls onto the couch to sleep longer against Derek, or when he watches Stiles frown as he reads something he doesn’t understand, or when he’s ranting about something and stops mid-sentence to tell Derek that he looks good before diving back into his rant. It’s a fond smile, one Derek couldn’t stop even if he tried—not that he wants to try.
“Are you going to help make breakfast or are you going to stand there like a bump on a log?” Stiles asks, holding out a cup of coffee for Derek.
Derek takes the cup. “I was admiring the view.”
Stiles turns around and wiggles his hips before flipping the bacon in the pan. “Oh, so, my dad was wondering for dinner this week whether we want burgers or steak. I tried to sell him on chicken, but he wouldn’t go for it.”
“I could pick up some steaks from the butcher’s shop.” He sets his coffee down on the counter and wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist. Nuzzling his nose along the back of Stiles’ neck, he knows he’s not subtle as he takes in Stiles’ scent. “Your dad always buys the meat.”
“That’s because he wants to make sure it’s red meat,” Stiles says. He makes a soft noise of contentment in his throat as Derek presses a kiss underneath his ear. “But I’ll let him know your proposal.”
“Speaking of proposals...” Derek says, quietly.
Stiles turns around. He stares at the twist-tie still on Derek’s finger. “When I propose, you’ll know it.”
When.
“But it’s something you want one day?”
“One day,” Stiles says, and then bites his lip to stop a grin. He turns back to the stove. “We should get back to making breakfast.”
Derek thought about marriage once in a while when it came to Stiles in the past couple of years. They're both on the same page of it just being a silly piece of paper, but for some reason Derek wants that silly piece of paper with Stiles.
There’s a deed to a house sitting in the drawer of Derek’s desk. A house that Stiles once pointed at during a walk along the lake and said he wanted to live in. Derek was waiting for the right time to tell Stiles about it. Maybe in a couple of weeks when the weather turns warmer, Derek will drive them out there with the deed and a ring, and make good on the promise of forever.
Suddenly, Stiles spins around, his face lights up as he holds his hand out. “Dance with me,” he says.
Derek can’t say no to Stiles. It’s an issue, really. It’s how he ended up with a Lego R2-D2 figurine stuck to his car dashboard and a cupboard full of Marvel superhero glasses—and the reason he knows the name of every character on said superhero glasses after Stiles made him watch every single movie in order.
“You realize how cheesy this is?” Derek asks, taking Stiles’ hand so they can slow dance around their kitchen.
“It’s not cheesy if you really love the person.”
“And you really love me?”
“Derek Hale, you’re my favorite person in the world, and I love you more than anything.” Stiles says, and then frowns. “Wow, those are words I never thought I’d say.”
“That sort of undercuts your proclamation of love.”
“Life is crazy.”
It is. Who knows what their future has in store for them? But Derek finds as long as Stiles is by his side, he doesn’t really care.
“This was the first song we danced to as a couple you know,” Stiles says, his eyes sparkling.
Derek listens closer. The song is familiar, bringing up memories of a wedding for one of Stiles’ law school friends during their first year together. It was the night that Stiles first told Derek he loved him, and the night that Derek realized Stiles wasn't going anywhere.
I say thank you
I'm a lucky man
I didn't know what life was, but now I understand
Stiles rests their foreheads together as they slowly sway offbeat. The song builds up, singing about precious love, and it’s everything Derek doesn’t know how to say out loud.
After the song fades out, Stiles pulls back from Derek while pouting. “It’s too short,” Stiles says.
“Play it again.”
“Really?”
Their kitchen fills with the scent of bacon sizzling in the pan, Stiles’ smile is radiant in the sunlight, and Derek can’t think of a moment in his life where he’s been happier.
“Yeah,” Derek says. “Really.”
This is precious love and it's teaching me to be a better man