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Derek watched Stiles sitting on the edge of the bed. Stiles stared down at his shaking hands, clenching them into fists for a count of five before opening them. The shaking continued. Finally, he stood and shook his hands, jumping when he saw Derek in the doorway.
“Shit, Der. I didn’t see you there. Gonna have to put a bell on you,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I wouldn’t let you do it when we first met; I’m not going to let you do it now,” Derek said, moving further into the room.
Stiles laughed. “Maybe I’ll sew them into the waistband of all your boxers, and then you won’t have a choice.”
Derek shrugged. “You know I don’t wear boxers.” He stopped right before Stiles so their noses were nearly pressed together. Reaching down, he pulled Stiles’ hands out of his pockets, holding them, feeling the tremors running through them. “Gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
Derek had come home from work and heard Stiles’ heart the second he’d opened the door. It hadn’t been at full-on panic attack tempo, but it had been running faster than usual. When he reached the bedroom, he hadn’t smelled anything negative, just a tinge of the sharp scent of his anxiety. Running his nose over Stiles’ temple, he smelled something else, anticipation. Derek grinned as he identified it, remembering all the times Stiles had looked, sounded, and smelled the same way.
Stiles’ lips had trembled against Dereks’ the first time they’d kissed after Derek had taken him to a movie he’d wanted to see. His hands had shaken while undoing Derek’s belt a few months later, and Derek had invited Stiles to spend the night for the first time. His entire body had trembled beneath him as Derek had entered him for the first time. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what first time was about to happen between the two of them.
Stiles pulled a hand away and shoved it back into his pocket. He took a deep breath and looked up into Derek’s face. “Well, if I can’t put a bell on you, maybe I could put a ring on it instead?” he said, smirking nervously, his lips and hands trembling as he held up a black ring with a ring of glowing blue through the center of it.
Derek gaped before touching the ring gently, running his finger over it, feeling the warmth from where it had been held against Stiles’ body in his pocket. “Did you just propose by paraphrasing Beyonce?”
Stiles burst out laughing. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Derek's smile grew big, and he knew his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, then I guess I think I wanna marry you ,” he sang softly, holding out his hand.
Stiles rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he slid the ring on Derek’s finger. Then he pushed forward, pressing their lips together, and Derek could still feel him trembling underneath his hands, but knew this time it was from laughter.