Work Text:
Stiles leaned on his horn outside of Derek’s apartment building, sticking his head out the window and craning his neck to look up at Derek’s windows. The front door opened before he saw anything, and Derek was in his car in seconds, yanking Stiles and his hands away from the horn.
“Can you be less obnoxious, please?” Derek asked dryly, letting Stiles go to buckle himself in. Stiles stretched across the space between their seats. He grinned right in Derek’s face.
“Nope,” Stiles answered. Derek sighed, more for show than for anything, before placing one large hand over Stiles’ face and pushing him back into his seat.
“We’re gonna be late,” Derek reminded him after a moment. Stiles snapped his fingers at him and started up the Jeep, revving the engine once, testing fate. Derek raised his eyebrows, and Stiles peeled out. “What exactly is it we’re doing, again?”
“We’re going to see the fireworks, my friend,” Stiles answered, ignoring the way his skin heated up under Derek’s attention, keeping his focus on the road instead. “It’s the Fourth of July, in case you forgot.”
“I have a calendar,” Derek replied shortly. Stiles raised an eyebrow, glancing at him, and Derek turned to look out the window. “I have a phone.”
“That’s more like it.” Stiles made a sharp turn, drawing Derek’s attention back to him. “It’s the Fourth of July, the birthday of our great nation, and we’re going to celebrate by setting off some fireworks and grilling some meat, just like our forefathers before us, and our foregrandfathers before them.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “And why do I have to be there?”
“Just because you ‘evolved’, or whatever, doesn’t mean you’re not a part of this pack, young man,” Stiles scolded jokingly. He felt Derek’s eyes on him again, and peeked over at him. “Relax, Derek. Nobody blames you for taking off.”
“I just-”
“Shut up,” Stiles interrupted, pulling up to the clearing. Scott was already there, setting up the grill. He waved excitedly when he caught sight of Stiles. “Just enjoy yourself without being all broody for once, won’t you? If not for me, then for America?”
Derek opened his mouth, then shut it again when Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. They were almost out of the Jeep when Derek said, “I suppose, for America,” and startled a laugh out of Stiles.
“Oh, good, you remembered him,” Lydia commented wryly, glancing over at Derek. “Too bad he forgot about us.”
“Lay off, Lyd, he’s been a little busy,” Stiles murmured as he passed by her to hand off a box of cream sodas to Kira, who happily started packing them into the tub of ice with the soda bottles and the bottles of water.
“Where’s Braeden?” Malia asked, snapping a baby carrot in half and tossing one of the halves into her mouth. Derek raised an eyebrow at her, but she just stared right back at him.
“Didn’t work out,” Derek finally answered, taking a bag of charcoal out of the backseat of Stiles’ Jeep and carrying it over to Scott.
“Same,” Malia replied. Derek glanced at Stiles, eyebrows slightly raised, but Stiles’ face just went red as he shrugged.
“Where are those fireworks?” Stiles asked, clapping his hands together, and Liam showed him the box full of fireworks that he, Mason, and Scott had obtained earlier that day, Stiles claiming ignorance so as not to actually be guilty of anything later when he saw his father. Scott lit the grill and slapped their celebratory grocery store steaks down onto it.
“Gonna be a great Fourth of July,” Scott exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together. “Got the perfect recipe right here, got the meat, got the fireworks, got the best friends ever.”
Stiles grinned at him, smacking Scott on the back before tossing his arm across Scott’s shoulders. Lydia took a picture of the two of them on her phone.
“Is Theo coming?” Stiles asked Scott in a low voice, and Scott shook his head.
“No, sir, not today,” Scott answered. Lydia rolled her eyes.
“I still think you’re being paranoid, Stiles,” Lydia commented, and Stiles left Scott alone to follow her to the drinks. Derek shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around, a little awkward. Mason offered him a wave. Derek nodded in his direction as Danny slid over to Derek’s side.
“Where’ve you been, man?” Danny asked. Derek glanced over at him.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Derek replied, and Danny held his hands up.
“Fair enough.” Danny fell silent for a moment, folding his arms across his chest. After a bit, he nodded in Stiles’ direction. “So. What’s going on there?”
“What do you mean?” Derek watched as Stiles picked Kira up, tossing her over his shoulder while she laughed. He spun her around before handing her over to Scott, who took her, grinning and kissing her on the nose.
“Maybe stop looking at him like that if you’re going to pretend you don’t know what I mean,” Danny offered. Stiles jogged up to them then, handing each of them a bottle of cream soda. Derek popped the caps off for them.
“What’re you guys talking about?” Stiles asked around the lip of the bottle. Derek was just staring at his face while Danny looked on in amusement. Stiles snapped his fingers in front of Derek’s eyes. “Hello? Earth to Hale? You just got here, don’t go up into space yet.”
“Sorry,” Derek mumbled, looking down into his bottle. “Just got distracted.”
“Well, get un-distracted, because we’re gonna eat soon,” Stiles informed him. Danny glanced over his shoulder at Scott.
“He only put those on, like, a few minutes ago,” Danny pointed out. Stiles snorted.
“Yeah, and you’re at a cookout with a bunch of werewolves and shit,” Stiles reminded him. “They all eat it bloody and disgusting.”
“Rare steak is delicious, and you’ve gotta be pretty ridiculous to think otherwise,” Derek commented, and Stiles rolled his eyes at him while Danny laughed.
“That’s a side we don’t see of you too often, Derek,” Danny said, raising his bottle. Stiles might break his eyeballs if he kept rolling them like that.
“It’s a side we see much too often, unfortunately.” Stiles turned to look over his shoulder when he heard Scott call his name. He waved to Derek and Danny, who was giving Derek a knowing look that Stiles chose not to explore, and headed off in Scott’s direction.
“Stop making oogly eyes at Derek and help me serve up the food, please,” Scott instructed, handing him a stack of sturdy paper plates. Stiles handed out the food as asked, settling on the hood of his Jeep with his own plate of well-cooked food. Scott ambled over after a bit, leaning against the car next to Stiles’ legs.
“For your information,” Stiles said around a mouthful of potato chips, “I don’t make oogly eyes at Derek.”
“Absolutely you make oogly eyes at Derek,” Scott disagreed, shoving bites of steak into his mouth. “Like, all the time. Even when he’s not here. You get that distant oogly-eyed look and it’s like his name is written on your forehead. It’s gross.”
“You’re gross,” Stiles shot back, staring down into his food. “You and Kira. You’re disgusting.”
“At least I’ve got the nerve to kiss her, unlike some people,” Scott laughed. He nudged Stiles’ hip with his shoulder before nodding in the direction Derek was coming from. “Looks like you’ve got company.”
“Scott-”
“Catch you later,” Scott cut him off, saluting him with his fork before disappearing in the direction of Kira, Lydia, and the fireworks. Derek took Scott’s spot leaning against the Jeep next to Stiles’ legs.
“What’s Scott looking so smug for?” Derek asked, his food almost completely gone. Stiles shrugged, poking at the remains of his own food before setting the plate down beside him on the hood of the Jeep. Derek took both of their plates and set them on the ground.
“I bet he’s just feeling like he’s right about everything, just like he always is.” Stiles patted the empty space beside him, and Derek hopped up to sit next to him. “Having a good time?”
“I guess so, yeah,” Derek answered. Stiles lay back on the hood, pillowing his head on his folded arms. Derek stayed sitting, looking up at the sky above them as it got steadily darker and darker. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of having it any other way,” Stiles murmured, cracking his jaw on a yawn. He glanced in Scott’s direction as his best friend starting setting up the fireworks. Stiles waved at him, and Scott beamed right back at him. “Hope you don’t get scared by the fireworks.”
“Why would I get scared by fireworks?” Derek asked, leaning back on his elbows and looking down into Stiles’ face.
“Because, you know.” Stiles waved his hand in the air. “I used to have a dog, and fireworks just scared the bejeesus out of him.”
“I’m not a dog, Stiles,” Derek reminded him, probably for at least the hundredth time since they met. Stiles jokingly bared his teeth at Derek and looked up at the sky again.
“Woof.” Stiles grinned, and Derek barely resisted rolling his eyes at him. The first firework exploded overhead, and Derek jumped before regretting it an instant later when he caught sight of Stiles smirking at him.
“It was sudden,” Derek defended himself, and Stiles shrugged, still smiling.
“Whatever you say, Wolfman.” Stiles forced himself to look away from Derek and watch the fireworks in the sky above him. He felt more than saw Derek settle down on his back beside him. Derek inched over after a second, and Stiles just barely stopped himself from automatically moving closer to Derek’s warmth. He could feel eyes on the side of his face after a second, and he turned his head to see Derek staring at him. His face was lit up a second later by a bright red firework.
“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” Stiles said quietly. Derek nodded. “I’ve missed having you around.”
“I’ve missed being around,” Derek replied. Stiles tipped his head up, nudging their faces closer together.
“Stop me if you want,” Stiles murmured, and Derek’s face lit up with blue, then with white. He didn’t make a move to stop Stiles from taking hold of his chin and bringing their mouths together. Derek cupped the back of Stiles’ head in his hand, tilting his head a bit to kiss him properly, opening Stiles’ mouth and letting his tongue roam inside. Stiles moaned, and Derek pulled back.
“I didn’t know.” Stiles’ breath fanned across Derek’s lips. They lit up with red again. Stiles dragged himself in closer, and Derek shifted to loom over him, Stiles flat on his back, the two of them pressed chest-to-chest on the hood of the Jeep. Derek settled his elbows on either side of Stiles’ head, his nose pushing against the sensitive skin under Stiles’ ear.
“I didn’t know, either,” Derek whispered back, breath hot on Stiles’ over-sensitized skin. “You should’ve said.”
“You should’ve said,” Stiles replied, his voice breaking halfway through. His face lit up blue, the firework cracking and fizzling out above them. Derek started to suck a mark into Stiles’ throat, and Stiles resolutely did not whimper. “Okay. We both should’ve said. Let’s just move past that and keep- ah, keep going.”
“Fine by me,” Derek replied, his voice muffled by Stiles’ skin as he bit at the mark he left behind. They lit up with white.
“God bless America,” Stiles said breathily, his back arching a bit under Derek, and Derek moved up until their mouths were centimeters from each other.
“Stiles, shut up,” Derek murmured, kissing him again, licking into his mouth, and Stiles did exactly that. Until someone - probably Scott, possibly Lydia - whistled, and Derek skittered backwards so fast that he shoved Stiles off the Jeep onto the ground. Stiles flipped everyone off before standing up, brushing himself off, and sticking his tongue down Derek’s throat in front of everyone.