Work Text:
The sun had been high in the cloud-free sky when Stiles had set off from Berkeley to head for Beacon Hills. No one knew he was coming home that weekend. He’d wanted to surprise Derek because his boyfriend had sounded a bit off when they’d talked on the phone earlier in the week. He knew that Laura’s birthday was the next day and didn’t want Derek to be alone with his thoughts.
As Stiles exited the expressway, he let out a curse at the darkening sky. He’d known there was stormy weather in the forecast, but he’d hoped the bright skies of the morning would hold out at least until he got to Derek’s. Roscoe was a great Jeep, but he’d been getting crankier about working in the rain in the last couple of years. Pressing his foot down on the accelerator, he decided to try and outrun the rain.
He made it to the edge of the Preserve, avoiding raindrops and his father’s deputies when a loud clap of thunder rumbled through the Jeep. “Shit,” Stiles said, pressing his foot down even more but having to give up on speed when the road started twisting too much. He didn’t want to end up going off the side of the road. With no one knowing he was coming to town, there was no indication how long he’d be down there before someone came along if he was knocked unconscious in the crash.
Shaking his head to get rid of the negativity, he frowned as the first drops splashed off the windshield. He was still a few miles from the Hale house, and he sent prayers to whatever deity looked out for idiots behind the wheel that Roscoe would make it. Moments later, Roscoe sputtered, and Stiles sighed, aiming him towards the shoulder of the road and banging his head against the steering wheel.
Reaching for his phone, prepared to ruin the surprise, his hand met an empty seat instead of cool glass and plastic. Frowning, he turned and saw his overnight bag but not his phone. Leaning over, he checked the floor in front of the seat and then in the back. He climbed out and looked underneath the seat, rain soaking through the back of his navy blue shirt. As he stood up, he had a clear image of his phone sitting on the counter in his dorm room, plugged into the wall.
Groaning, he grabbed his bag and hung it across his body before taking his backpack out of the backseat and hooking it over his shoulder. He debated a couple of minutes over whether he should head back towards town or keep going to the Hale house. The house won out when a bolt of lightning lit the sky over the city. Taking a deep breath, he closed and locked the Jeep and started walking.
His clothing weighed him down by the time he’d reached the house, and he struggled to lift his foot onto the bottom step. The parking area in front of the house was devoid of vehicles, and Stiles hoped that someone was home so he could use their phone, but chances were pretty slim. Unlocking the door, he pushed inside and called out a greeting, even though most inhabitants of the house should have heard him coming already.
He explored the house, trying to find a phone. He stepped into Derek’s room and spotted his cellphone on the nightstand. He hurried over and then tried to figure out who he should call. He had planned on calling Derek, but that would be pointless with his phone in his hand. Instead, he called his dad, smiling when he saw that Derek had him listed as “Papa Stilinski” on his phone.
“Derek? Did you find him?” his father’s voice answered.
“Find who?” Stiles asked without thinking. Someone was missing, and no one had told him. He frowned at being left out of Pack business.
“Stiles!” his dad squawked, and Stiles held the phone away from his ear. “Derek found you!”
“Actually, I found Derek’s phone, and I didn’t know I was missing,” he responded.
“Derek’s phone? Where did you find it? Is he alright?” Stiles heard the sirens turn on in the background, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes because his dad wouldn’t know where to find him.
“It was on his nightstand,” Stiles explained. “I’m at the house.”
“Stay there,” his dad told him and hung up.
Stiles stared at the phone, jumping when it rang a couple of minutes later with his dad’s number. He had barely connected the call when his dad was shouting. “Why is your Jeep on the side of the road?”
“Rain,” Stiles supplied.
“How did you get to the house?”
“Walked,” Stiles said, shivering as the cooler air in the house reminded him he was soaking wet. Glancing down, he noticed a puddle of water at his feet. Derek was going to kill him.
The sirens grew closer outside, and Stiles saw the lights through the trees. He headed down the stairs and greeted his dad at the door, surprised when the man basically leaped over the steps and crushed him in a hug. “You’re alright.”
Stiles patted him awkwardly on the back for a second before hugging him back. “I’m sure that’s debatable to most,” he quipped.
“This is no time for jokes,” his father said, voice stern. “There was a fire in your dorm, and no one could get hold of you.”
“I came home for the weekend and forgot my phone in the dorm,” Stiles explained, shoulders slumping. “Where is Derek?”
The question was barely out of his mouth when the two of them were knocked to the floor by a soaking wet mass of black fur. Stiles spluttered as Derek covered his face with lupine kisses. He and his father worked together to push Derek off of them. “C’mon, Derek, I’m fine. I’m here.”
Sheriff Stilinski rose to his feet. “Well, now that both missing persons are found, I’m going to call off the hunt,” he said, heading outside and shutting the door behind him.
The echo of the closing door hadn’t even faded, and Stiles’ arms were full of naked Derek. He nosed against Stiles temple, down the side of his jaw before burying his face into his neck and snuffling. Stiles ran his hands through Derek’s wet hair, making soothing sounds. His back began hurting from the wood flooring, but Derek was standing and carrying Stiles upstairs before he could complain.
Crossing into the bedroom, Derek headed straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower without setting Stiles down. Burying his face in Stiles’ neck again, he started to undress Stiles, but his fingers were trembling, and Stiles finally laid his hands over Derek’s to still him. He took over undressing and pulled Derek into the shower with him, forgoing comments on the tears disappearing into the shower water.
They stayed silently wrapped together under the shower until it started to turn cold, and Stiles shivered through a chill. Derek turned off the water and wrapped Stiles in a giant towel before grabbing one for himself. He focused on drying Stiles off before worrying about himself. When they were both dry, Stiles took Derek’s hand, led him into the bedroom, pushed him gently down onto the bed, and tucked him underneath the covers.
Quickly moving around the bed, he climbed in and curled up with his head on Derek’s chest, listening to the rapid heartbeat. He ran his fingers through Derek’s chesthair. Typically, Stiles always had a lot to say, but he knew that Derek just needed his presence at that moment.
The rain slowed down before Derek began to speak. “When I heard about a fire on campus, I tried calling you, but there was no answer. I didn’t think anything of it until your dad called and said the fire was in your dorm and he couldn’t get hold of you.” A deep breath shuddered through him, and Stiles pressed a kiss to the skin beneath him. “I got in my car and probably broke more traffic laws than I feel comfortable admitting to your father, and when I got there, I started searching the crowds of people watching the firemen work.”
Stiles wondered if the fire had destroyed everything he had at school and where he would be staying when he had to return on Monday. His chest tightened with panic, and Derek’s hand started rubbing up and down his back, calming him. “I saw your roommate.” Derek chuckled. “He started shouting at me that I had to go back home because you were on your way to surprise me. He also gave me your phone,” Derek told him. “Said you’d forgotten it, and he’d seen it before he ran out because of the fire. He also managed to grab your laptop and schoolbag.”
“Where are they?” Stiles asked, breaking his silence.
“My car.”
“Which is where?”
“Behind your Jeep,” Derek explained. “I sped home almost as quickly as I did going to your school. I slowed down when I heard sirens in the preserve, which had to have been your dad coming to you. When I spotted your Jeep, I slammed on my breaks and popped a tire. I knew where you must have gone, so I shifted and ran back here.”
“And that’s where I came into the story,” Stiles said. “I came home because I know Laura’s birthday is tomorrow and I didn’t want you to be alone. Instead, I caused you more stress.”
Derek moved, so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Reaching out, he cupped Stiles’ cheek. “All I care about is that you weren’t in that fire. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, too.” He swallowed hard, blinking back tears before leaning in to brush his lips against Stiles’.
“It’s too bad we didn’t get to do that in the rain,” Stiles whispered as they pulled apart. “It’s supposed to be super romantic.”
“It’s supposed to rain again tomorrow,” Derek commented, grinning as he brushed his nose against Stiles’ before settling down on the pillow and cuddling him close. Stiles felt the day catching up with him and yawned loudly.
Closing his eyes, he felt sleep taking over as he mumbled. “Then, it’s a date.”