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"Stiles, will you marry me?"
Stiles stares down at Derek in utter shock, growing more and more upset by the second. Clearly Derek can sense his distress, because he reaches forward to grab Stiles' hand.
Stiles jumps back, holding his hands out to keep Derek at bay. "No, stop. This can't be happening. Are you serious?"
"Well, I am on one knee..." Derek jokes, gesturing helpfully at his position on the floor before Stiles, like it's perfectly normal for him to drop to one knee in the middle of their kitchen.
"I can't believe this," Stiles says to himself as he begins pacing back and forth. He needs to stop this before Derek goes any further. This isn’t how he’d had everything planned. It’s too soon! There has to be a way to salvage things. Maybe if they just pause this for a few days, Derek will forget about it in time for...
Movement catches Stiles' eyes as Derek stands up.
"Good, yes," Stiles encourages, eyes brightening as he helps Derek up with a hand to his elbow.
"You could’ve just said no," Derek says.
Stiles freezes. "No? ...What do you mean no?"
"Stop dragging things out, Stiles," Derek growls, shaking off Stiles' hand and turning away. "Obviously we've had two different ideas of where our relationship was heading."
"Derek, wait!" Stiles scrambles after him, only coming to a stop when Derek pins him with a red-eyed glare. Shit, this is not the way this was supposed to go. Everything is falling apart. "You've got it all wrong," Stiles pleads.
"Really?" Derek spits out. "Because it sounds to me like the idea of being married disgusts you." He chuckles humorlessly. "I guess I didn't realize how much of a joke our relationship was to you."
"It's not a joke to me!” Stiles cries. “I love you!"
Stiles is scrambling for something else to say to convince Derek. Can’t he hear his heartbeat? How did today spiral into this so quickly? Stiles feels like he’s standing in quicksand and losing control, sinking deeper and deeper into this mess. He thought this was going to be a relaxing Saturday morning, not a break-up before he even drank his first cup of coffee.
"Yeah, you know what? Save it, Stiles. You had your chance." Derek sits at the kitchen table, pressing his face against hands.
"No I didn't!" Stiles cries out, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Why do you think I'm so upset?"
Derek turns to him, looking defeated, his heart in his eyes. It wrecks Stiles to think that he caused Derek to look like that. All because of his stupid mouth. Stiles exhales slowly, trying to focus his thoughts. He walks over carefully, unsure if he's welcome near Derek right now. When Derek doesn’t resist, Stiles sits down beside him, sliding his chair over until he's pressed right along Derek's side.
"Look, Derek," Stiles begins. "I'm sorry. You just took me by surprise, okay?" Stiles lays his hand gently on Derek's arm.
"That was kind of the point, Stiles," Derek mutters, although he no longer sounds angry. Just sad.
"I know, okay? I get it. It's just..." Stiles stares down at the floor. "I had this all planned out a little differently, is all."
Derek nudges him when he doesn't continue. "Had what planned out?"
"My proposal, of course."
"You planned a proposal?" Derek asks.
"You know me," Stiles says with a wry grin. "I love to make a big deal out of things. I had this super romantic proposal all planned out and you jumped me by three days."
Stiles can see Derek smile out of the corner of his eye, but he still can't bring himself to meet Derek’s gaze. He fiddles with a loose string on his sleeve.
"What did you have planned?"
Stiles shakes his head. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter anymore."
"Only you would be disappointed that I beat you to proposing," Derek replies, chuckling. He reaches out and wraps his arm around Stiles' waist, tugging gently until Stiles resettles in Derek’s lap.
"Yeah, well. I wanted to do something special for you," Stiles admits. He leans forward, resting their foreheads together, his fingers dancing idly across Derek’s chest.
Derek grins fondly. "Just being with you is special enough," he murmurs.
"You deserve more."
Derek pulls away, pressing fingers beneath Stiles' chin until he looks up. "I've got everything I need right here." He reaches down to lace their fingers together, a tender look in his eyes, and suddenly Stiles finds himself overwhelmed with affection for the man before him.
Stiles swallows past the lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he says in a low voice. “Me, too.” He cups Derek’s jaw with his free hand, brushing his thumb gently over the rough morning stubble as he kisses Derek. Derek’s mouth is warm and soft, and it feels like coming home as their lips brush together in the lightest of kisses.
Derek presses Stiles closer with a hand to his lower back, turning the kiss deep and slow until Stiles is practically aching with how tender he feels. When Derek’s hand begins to wander underneath his shirt, Stiles groans softly, threading his fingers through Derek’s hair and trying to keep some semblance of composure. He pulls away when it becomes too overwhelming, hiding his relieved grin in the crook of Derek’s neck.
"For the record,” Stiles says after a moment, “do you know how hard it is to plan a surprise proposal for a werewolf?"
Derek chuckles and wraps his arms around Stiles, snuggling closer. “I can guess."
"Well, I've got dibs on our first anniversary,” Stiles declares. “So don't get any ideas about planning some surprise."
"It's all yours, baby.”