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Derek stared out the loft window, watching the snow fall in fat flakes to coat the world outside in white. He loved the snow, it was always so beautiful and kind of calming in a way. Peaceful. It was nice to see it blanket the earth, and when it just sat there undisturbed, it was probably one of the most beautiful things.
Only one of the most beautiful things, because of course, the most beautiful thing in his life had just come up behind him, whining about the cold and promptly shoving his popsicle hands under Derek’s shirt to leech his body heat.
“I’m cold,” Stiles whined, chin resting on Derek’s shoulder and hands still pressed flat against Derek’s stomach. They really were cold against his skin, but he didn’t feel it himself. Not from the weather, anyway.
Icicle hands against his abdomen was a bit harder to ignore.
“I like the snow,” Derek said, continuing to watch it fall outside. They didn’t often get snow in Beacon Hills. It wasn’t really a place where it got cold enough to snow, so they only got a few days of flakes that didn’t stick every now and then.
This one though was a big one. It had been snowing fairly heavily for almost two days. The city had basically shut down because no one knew how to handle it. Derek found that a bit funny, considering he’d survived a few winters in New York with Laura and that was snow, but he supposed for a town where it never happened, he could understand.
“It’s wet and cold,” Stiles whined, pressing into him harder, clearly trying to steal all of his body heat.
Joke was on him, Derek’s supply was infinite.
“It’s beautiful,” Derek said quietly.
Stiles didn’t say anything for a moment, then sighed and admitted, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s pretty.”
He expected Stiles to move away after a few moments, but he didn’t. He just stood there, his hands warming against Derek’s skin, the two of them watching the snow continue to fall.
Derek felt his chest warm at the knowledge that he got to share this quiet, peaceful, beautiful moment with the one person he cherished most in his life. Stiles was always a constant ball of energy, always moving around, always doing something. But every now and then, he would stop and just be. He would let himself stand still, enjoy the quiet, enjoy the company, and Derek loved it so much when he shared those moments with him.
He knew Stiles wasn’t a calm person by nature. If Derek was like the calm, falling snow outside, Stiles was a tornado, but Derek never got tired of running right into that storm, because he loved him. So much.
“It doesn’t snow here much,” Stiles said after an exceptionally long silence. “I feel like this is the first real snowfall we’ve ever had.”
“No, we’ve had some before.”
“Oh yeah?” Stiles turned his head so his cheek was pressed against Derek’s, still resting his chin on his shoulder from behind. His hands weren’t cold anymore, but he didn’t remove them from Derek’s skin. “When? I don’t remember.”
“A long time ago,” Derek said softly. “I think I was ten? Maybe eleven. I remember—it snowed like this. It was nice. Mom went full shift and we all went out into the woods to chase some animals and have fun. Laura and I had a snowball fight, then made a snowman that she convinced me would come to life at night and eat bad children.”
Stiles obviously hadn’t been expecting that last bit, because a laugh tore itself from his throat right into Derek’s ear and he buried his face against Derek’s neck.
“Did you believe her? Of course you believed her.”
Derek smiled slightly at the memory. “I believed her. Werewolves are real, why not child-eating snowmen?”
“So were you a good boy for a few days?”
“No, I told her that I didn’t have anything to worry about, because if it only ate bad children, I just had to make sure she was around when it showed up and it would go for her immediately.”
Stiles laughed again, chest vibrating against Derek’s back. “You’re the best brother.”
“The best,” Derek agreed. The small smile on his lips slowly left as he continued to stare out the window. “We got a lot of snow in New York, too. Laura and I would always go out in it, enjoy the peace and quiet. There’s just something really magical about the first dusting of snow. Before people walk all over it and cars turn it all grey and muddy.”
Stiles hummed against his skin, resting his cheek on Derek’s shoulder now. He was silent for only a moment, then sighed loudly, like something inconvenient had just happened, and smacked at Derek’s stomach with one hand.
Derek grunted at the action, even though it hadn’t actually hurt.
“All right, you big sap, let’s go.”
Frowning when Stiles pulled away from him, he turned to look over while his boyfriend walked across the loft and grabbed his coat.
“Go where?”
“Outside, obviously.” Stiles yanked his arms through the sleeves of his heavy jacket, rearranging the hood of his sweater underneath so that it stuck out the back properly.
“Why?”
“Because snow is magical,” Stiles insisted, rolling his eyes while digging through his pockets, looking for something. When he didn’t find it, he started looking around him by the door and then snatched his white toque off the table beside the entrance, sticking it onto his head. “We’re right beside the preserve, no one is gonna be out there, so the snow should be pristine barring any animals scampering about. We can just go for a walk.”
“But it’s cold,” Derek insisted, adding a slight whine to his voice to imitate Stiles.
That just earned him the bird, Stiles pulling his gloves from the pockets of his coat with one hand, since the other was busy flipping him off.
“I’m being a good boyfriend, come up, hurry up before I change my mind.”
Derek grinned while Stiles dropped his mitts on the table and sat down heavily, yanking his boots over so he could pull them on.
Moving quickly to the door, Derek grabbed his own jacket and pulled it on, bending down to shove his socked feet into his boots and lacing them up. When he stood, Stiles was ready to go, all bundled up with his hands covered.
“Okay,” Stiles said, sighing in defeat. “Let’s go.”
Derek just laughed and opened the loft door, the two of them exiting their home. He locked up behind them before following his boyfriend downstairs.
Stiles had to push hard to get the door open, since snow had piled up on the other side of it, but he managed it and let out a whine, stepping out into the lot and putting the first human touch on the previously pristine layer of snow with one foot.
“Ugh, so cold,” he whined, moving a bit further ahead so Derek could follow him out. He just laughed again, shutting and locking that door as well, then moved up beside Stiles.
They walked around the building towards the back so they could head into the trees, the only tracks in the snow being the ones they left behind. Stiles was hugging himself and hunching his shoulders, looking pouty. Derek just smiled to himself with his hands in the pockets of his coat.
When they reached the trees, Stiles shifted closer to him so that they walked beneath the canopy of snow-covered branches together. Derek took his right hand out of his pocket, holding it out, and Stiles took it, his gloves surprisingly soft against Derek’s palm.
“Did you and Laura ever go running in the snow in New York? In the woods, I mean.”
“Not really,” Derek admitted, squeezing Stiles’ hand tightly. “Not a lot of places to safely run out there except the parks. We didn’t want Laura to get shot or anything.”
“True,” Stiles said. “It must be amazing, though. Being a wolf, running on four legs with a fur coat through the snow.”
“It’s warmer,” Derek teased.
Stiles snorted a laugh and bumped his hip. Derek smiled, ducking under a low-hanging branch. Some snow fell into his hair, but he didn’t mind. Stiles laughed and brushed it off, insisting it looked like he was going grey. Derek didn’t know why he bothered to try, considering the snow was still falling overhead.
The bare branches weren’t doing much to stop the snow from landing on them, but at least the trees helped with the wind.
They walked slowly through the Preserve, Derek being sure to keep track of how far they were from the nearest road and what Stiles’ state was. It really was cold, but Stiles seemed to be doing okay. They were staying close as they walked, and Derek knew he always gave off a lot of body heat in general. Stiles didn’t seem too upset about the cold, he just liked to whine.
He asked more questions about his time in New York, and what other things he and his family used to do in the winter months. It was nice, talking about his family. Sometimes he wanted to forget everything about them. Just pretend he’d been born an adult and had always just been on his own. It hurt less.
Other times, he hated that feeling. He’d had a good childhood, a loving family. His mother had been an amazing woman, his father a very kind man. He loved his sisters, his cousins, hell even Peter sometimes. He knew he just wanted to forget about them because it hurt to remember what he’d lost, but he also acknowledged that he’d shared so many happy times with his family.
He missed them, and he’d always miss them, but he had people in his life now. People who cared about him, and who he cared about very much. It wasn’t the same, but it was still a loving family in its own right.
They ended up walking far enough into the Preserve that they were at the edge of the small road in town with the diner and a few shops. They’d been walking a while, and it was going to be another long walk home, so Derek figured they should stop in and grab a drink and maybe some food.
Stiles ordered a hot chocolate with extra whip. Derek just got a coffee. They had apple pie on the menu today, so they ordered a slice and shared it, Stiles trying to get all the good pieces of apple while Derek fought him for the tip of the pie.
The diner wasn’t very busy, which made sense since no one wanted to go out in this weather, but that just made it better in Derek’s opinion. Only two other people were in the place aside from the staff, and it was quiet and intimate.
He was really glad Stiles had decided to go out.
After lingering for a good hour to make sure Stiles wouldn’t lose any fingers or toes, Derek paid and they headed out again. He walked out of the diner while fixing the collar of his coat, having taken it off inside because it was warm.
Just when he’d started to turn to ask Stiles if he was ready for the long walk back, he let out a rather embarrassing, foreign sound when he felt Stiles yanking the back of his Henley and cold wetness slithered its way down his spine.
“Can’t compete with Werewolf aim,” Stiles insisted, cackling maniacally and dancing out of Derek’s reach while he attempted to grab the snow out from under his shirt. “No snowball fights, you’d decimate me, but sneaky human stealth for the win!” He thrust both hands in the air.
“Careful, or an evil snowman will come eat you,” Derek warned, but he couldn’t help the smile trying to take over his face, shaking out the back of his shirt to get the rest of the snow out.
“There’s only one kind of ‘monster’ I want eating me.” Stiles waggled his eyebrows and Derek couldn’t help it.
He burst out laughing. He didn’t often laugh, not like this. Not the kind of laugh that shook his entire body and forced itself loudly from his chest. But Stiles always knew the right things to say to get him to let his guard down and just be himself.
His boyfriend looked pleased to have made him laugh so hard, moving back over to him and leaning up to kiss his lips lightly. Derek was still laughing, a bit more subdued and controlled now, and he let out a loud exhale of a laugh when he reached for Stiles’ face, bringing his hands up to cradle it and brushing his thumb lightly against his pale skin.
“I love you,” he informed him, unable to contain the smile on his face.
“Even when I shove snow down your shirt?” Stiles asked, like a cheeky little shit.
Derek let out another small laugh. “Even then.” He leaned forward to kiss his lips lightly, then his forehead. “Thank you for today. This.”
Stiles’ smile became a bit softer. Less of a smirk and more of a genuine smile. “Thanks for sharing about your family.” He wrapped his arms around Derek’s middle, leaning closer to him. “I know it hurts to talk about, but I love hearing about them. I like knowing the people who made you the man you are today. Grumpy sourwolf and all.” He leaned up to kiss the tip of Derek’s nose.
That just had him snort and roll his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot.”
Such an overused phrase, and yet, so true.
“Yeah,” Derek said in response, shifting to wrap an arm around Stiles’ shoulders so they could start heading home. “Don’t know why I did this to myself.”
“Because you love me, you said so yourself,” Stiles insisted cheekily, winking at him.
Derek smiled and kissed his temple, getting more of his hair and toque than his actual skin, but that was okay. He would need to warm Stiles up when they got home anyway, lots of skin for him to kiss and worship then.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I do. I really do.”
Derek loved the snow.
But not as much as he loved Stiles.
Beautiful artwork that inspired this fic by Fae~
END.