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"Are you sure you're okay here?"
At the doorway to his dorm room, Stiles looks back over his shoulder at his dad. Down the hall, there's some guy trying to carry two moving boxes, a large duffle bag, a backpack, and a large mesh laundry bag stuffed full of what appears to be random crap. Just as it looks like the dude's going to lose everything he's lugging, Derek pops up from around the corner and falls into step at the guy's side, somehow managing to right him and keep everything from hitting the floor, even with two moving boxes of Stiles's stuff in his own arms.
Having a werewolf spouse is pretty awesome.
"I am, I swear," Stiles tries to assure his dad for what feels like the twentieth time since they stepped into his assigned room. It's probably only the sixth or seventh time, in reality. He turns away completely from the doorway and goes to stand next to his dad at the side of his bed, absently poking around at the things inside the suitcase atop his bare mattress while he tries to think of something to say. "Are you sure you're okay with me here?" he asks after a moment, then looks up from his folded clothes, wondering if it's even worth it to put them in the dresser.
"Of course." His dad sighs and shakes his head. "You essentially moved out of the house weeks ago. I don't know why dropping you off has me…" He doesn't finish his sentence, just shrugs and sighs again instead.
Stiles turns around so he can sit on the mattress and face his dad. "Probably because even though I wasn't spending a lot of nights at the house, at least you knew I was in town and easy to find."
His dad nods. "Yeah. And now you won't be."
Stiles gives his dad a wide smile. "Nope. But that also means you won't have someone breathing down your neck about your diet."
His dad scoffs. "Yeah, like I don't know you've recruited half my deputies and at least two of my dispatchers to fill in for you on that front. I guess I should just be glad there aren't signs hanging in most of the food joints in Beacon Hills with my face on them and instructions not to serve me anything unhealthy." When Stiles gives a little cough, his dad's eyebrows go up. "There aren't, are there?"
"Uh. No?" Stiles replies, rubbing at the back of his neck. Not that he hadn't seriously considered doing that very thing, about three weeks ago.
"But you thought about it, didn't you?"
"Let's not worry about that," Stiles suggests, saved from any further interrogation by the girl with long black hair who practically falls through his door.
"Amber, holy fuck, you've gotta come see this guy down the hall, he's like every fucking fantasy you've ever—" She stops abruptly, realizing Stiles and his dad are both staring at her with raised eyebrows. "Um. You're not Amber." She takes a couple of steps backwards, hand still on the doorknob, and looks at the front of the door. "That's because this is not Amber's room. Fuck, sorry."
Stiles just grins. "No Amber here." He holds out his hand. "I'm Stiles."
She enters the room fully and shakes it, seemingly still distracted by either the person she was talking about, or trying to figure out where she needs to go to find her friend. "Leilani." She takes a breath like she's about to ask him something else—but before she can, someone else barges through Stiles's door, straight into Leilani and just about taking all three of them down to the floor.
"There you are, holy shit, you've gotta come see this guy out there, I swear to God you'll die when you do, because goddamn—"
"Amber?" Stiles asks the girl, who jumps as if noticing him for the first time, startling again when she looks around and sees she's in an unfamiliar dorm room.
"Uh. Yeah. Hi," she says awkwardly, catching sight of Stiles's dad standing in the corner near the empty bed that will eventually be occupied by Stiles's roommate, trying not to look too amused that there are numerous people that also possess the same lack of grace that Stiles does. She leans in close to her friend, probably trying to be quiet, but Stiles can still hear her fiercely-muttered "C'mon, you've gotta see this amazing fucking Adonis gracing us all with his presence," as she tugs on Leilani's arm, about half a step from dragging her friend back into the hall. Stiles sees her take a quick step both inside the door and back in order to make way for the boxes that make their way into the room just ahead of the person carrying them, and her shocked squeak is loud, even as she appears to try to hide herself behind her friend.
"Sorry, I got held up helping someone down the hall—" Derek says as he steps into the room, pausing for a second as he takes in the two additional people standing around, just inside the doorway. Both girls are staring at him. Gaping, in fact. Stiles can empathize, really. He's still awestruck by Derek's everything, and he gets to see him and touch him all the damn time. Derek manages an endearingly awkward wave at both of them, still holding the boxes in his arms. "Hi."
Both girls reply with half-strangled "hi"s of their own, and Stiles's dad steps up and takes one of the boxes from Derek with a "let's set these over here," a laugh somehow held in over the whole situation.
"Sooo," Leilani says to Stiles after a very long moment. Her eyes are still on Derek, who's crossed to the other side of the room. He'd bet Amber's are, too, but she's still mostly hiding behind her friend, her face pressed against Leilani's shoulder. "Is that your brother?"
Before Stiles gets a chance to answer, his dad steps between him and both girls, reaching into his pocket and giving his keychain a quick jingle. "C'mon, son," he calls over his shoulder at Derek. "Let's go get the last of Stiles's stuff out of the car."
"All right," Derek answers, closing over the flaps of the box he'd been rifling through. It's the one with Stiles's bedding, mostly. He steps up behind Stiles, wraps one arm around his waist, and rests his hand on Stiles's chest. Stiles can't help but smirk just a little. He knows exactly what Derek's doing, inserting himself into his space like this. Protective, possessive, territorial behavior is a thing Stiles is far from oblivious to these days—and more often than not, he actually enjoys it. Right now, he'd put money on the fact that Derek's heard Leilani's question and is acting to make a point, already having asked Stiles if he was keeping his sexuality or marital status a secret while going to school.
Stiles had just stared at him when he'd asked last week, then raised his eyebrows. "Gonna be pretty stupid of me to try, since I plan on wearing my wedding ring literally all the time. Besides, you know I like showing you off and letting the world know I snagged someone as awesome as you. When have I not jumped at the chance to do that from the moment we told everyone what we'd done?"
It had been well worth not giving a simple yes-or-no answer, just to see Derek blush all the way to the tips of his adorable fucking ears.
"Back in a minute," he says, apparently not even a little ashamed with the way he's all up on Stiles, even with Stiles's dad probably right outside the door, waiting. Stiles lifts his left hand to squeeze Derek's—a movement that's still amazing to him in the way it's become completely natural and automatic and is so easily accepted and even reciprocated—and he watches with amusement as both girls continue to blatantly stare at Derek, their eyes going comically wide in unison as Derek leans in further and gives Stiles a quick kiss on the temple before they both seem to notice the wedding bands on his and Derek's joined hands a moment before Derek leaves him to join his dad.
"So...not your brother," Leilani says once it's just the three of them in the room again.
"Not my brother," Stiles affirms, trying really hard not to grin like an ass. He probably doesn't succeed. "My husband."
"Jesus Christ, why are the hottest guys already taken or gay or both?" Amber mumbles into Leilani's shoulder, and Stiles can't help but laugh, even as Leilani smacks at her friend's hand and gives her a warning, exasperated look. Amber makes a face, then looks at Stiles like he's got two heads. "Why the hell are you living on campus and not at least in family housing, if you're married to that?"
He shrugs. "Long story." He could tell them that he doesn't expect to be in his room much at all after the first couple weeks of class—he'd agreed with Derek's point that it would be smart to keep his spot in the dorms for the semester, since he's paying for it and all, and Derek had pointed out that it could be convenient to have somewhere on campus to crash on nights he spends studying until the library closes, or wants to go out with classmates and stays late, or even if he needs to power nap or something between classes. But he doesn't know that he just wants to up and announce that he'll never be here to people he doesn't know yet, and have anyone take advantage of that fact. He's planning on talking to his RA about it after their orientation if he doesn't see them before that point, just so no one gets any panicked messages or sends anyone for wellness checks or some damn thing. "Working on it, though."
There's a moment of awkwardness until they get to talking about where each of them is from—both girls are from San Pedro and met via their schools' surf teams two years ago—and what their proposed majors are. Stiles's dad and Derek make it back as Amber is telling Stiles about this little indie coffee shop just off campus that stays open twenty-four hours, and they duck out of his room, headed off to do something or other neither of them will specify after promising to look for Stiles during the RA introduction and orientation meeting scheduled for later in the afternoon.
"I'll leave you to get settled in," Stiles's dad says not long after, looking around like he's not entirely sure he should be leaving just yet. "Take care of yourself." He gives Stiles a quick, tight hug while Derek hangs back in a corner and fiddles with something in his hands that Stiles can't quite see enough to identify.
"I will. And it's not like you're not going to hear from me," Stiles assures him. He's not planning on just abandoning his dad or acting like he doesn't exist, just because he's a few hours away at school. Yeah, he's also married now, and that comes with a particular sort of independence from parental figures, but he loves his dad, and they've got a pretty good relationship. He doesn't exactly like the thought of his dad being left all alone, but he knows Melissa will be over frequently, and his dad has a few other people he hangs out with outside of work.
His dad mumbles acknowledgement of that fact, tells Derek he'll wait for him by where the car's parked, and gives Stiles one more quick hug before heading out through the door and pulling it closed behind him, apparently to give them a moment together with less risk of random people falling through his doorway.
"You need anything else before we take off?" Derek asks him, perched on the corner of one of the dressers next to the window. They're five floors up, and Stiles wonders if Derek would've ever tried to scale the building to get in through his window, if he'd planned on living here the entirety of his freshman year. The thought makes him grin, because he can't immediately say Derek wouldn't.
"Nah. I'm good. You lugged all my textbooks and shit up, and it's not like I'm even going to be decorating my half of the room or anything, you know?" He shrugs. "Everything I really need to know was covered in that new student session we did the other week or will be in the meeting with the RA later today, and you and Dad said the parent and family session you went to made everything pretty clear, right?"
Derek shrugs one shoulder of his own. "Yeah." He's still fiddling with whatever's in his hands, and he's looking down at that, instead of at Stiles.
Stiles gets the distinct feeling he's stalling, and he can't blame him. They've only spent a handful of nights apart since their trip to Vegas, and not having Derek in the same bed with him tonight—or for the next several nights, really—is something he's been trying not to focus on.
"We're still on for Saturday, right?" he says, wishing they could just fast-forward to that morning. "We'll meet with Annie, get the keys, and start moving stuff in?"
"Yeah. Bright and early. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty and we can get going. I know you said you liked her and Adam from the chats you've had, but I really think you'll click even better, in person. They're good people."
Stiles nods, then hesitates for a moment. "And you think living so close to them is going to work okay for you? It won't be weird?"
Derek gives him a small smile, and it makes Stiles's chest feel funny in a way that's both good and a little sad, because what he's been able to learn about that smile is that it means Derek's still surprised that Stiles notices that sort of shit—and more so that he's surprised anyone could actually care enough about him to give it any actual consideration. "You mean because we'll be living in another pack's territory?"
"Not just living in their territory, but actually on their property, yeah." Annie and her husband are close to Derek's age, but they have a fancy house and a considerable lot not too far from the campus, in a nicer neighborhood than Stiles had expected to be able to inhabit. And on that lot is a mother-in-law-style cottage—just a little one-bedroom thing, not anything extravagant, but still something that will be essentially theirs and mostly private. He'd worried deeply about logistics until the first chat he'd had with Annie, alone, and she'd dropped the fact that, because the house had been in her family for a few generations and had thus always belonged to werewolves, it was soundproofed and otherwise customized in a way that would grant them freedom from some of the general inconveniences of city life that would be bothersome to those with supernatural senses.
"And you'll have the sort of privacy you might find yourselves wanting, as newlyweds," she'd added, the grin evident in her voice. Stiles had been positive she could sense his embarrassment, even over the phone. "Especially once you help Adam with getting the protective wards and charms set."
"You're married to an Emissary?" Stiles had asked, mind going a million miles an hour, shifting immediately from thoughts of loud, enthusiastic sex to those of magic, but Annie had just laughed at him.
"Not an Emissary, no. But he's from a long line of Druids and the like. And from what we've heard from both Derek and Alan Deaton, you've got some natural abilities in that area, as well. I can't promise anything, but maybe he'll be able to teach you some things before your time in LA is over."
Stiles had been speechless after that, but also more hopeful about their living situation than he had been since he and Derek had started talking about finding someplace to rent while Stiles is in school.
"I've told you," Derek says, moving closer into Stiles's space. "Annie's pack is pretty progressive. They've been out here for generations, and my family always had a solid alliance with them. They know Deaton, and Annie's brother is part of the pack Laura and I joined up with in New York. I'm not worried about conflicts and pack dynamic issues with them." His voice softens. "But it means a lot to me that you've thought about it." He leans in and kisses Stiles softly. "More than I can tell you."
Stiles sighs and thuds his forehead against Derek's shoulder. "You can't just be all sweet and crap like that, before you go. It already sucks enough that I can't see you for almost a week. I'm going to miss the shit out of your face, you know that? And the way you hug, and your little bunny teeth that show when you smile, and so much other stupid little shit about you."
Derek snorts. "I know how you feel, trust me. I'm going to miss your rambling and flailing." He dips his head a little, turning his face towards Stiles, and runs his nose up and down Stiles's neck, then mouths lightly at his throat and the spot behind Stiles's ear that makes him shiver. "And this. Smelling me on you, and knowing your smell's on me."
"Well, that, at least, I can do something about," Stiles says. He pulls back from Derek's embrace and shrugs out of the plaid shirt he's been wearing over his favorite Deadpool T-shirt all day. "Here," he says, pressing it into one of Derek's hands. There's something in Derek's palm already, and Derek takes the shirt with his other hand instead as Stiles looks down, letting his curiosity show. "What's that?"
Derek flushes a little. "Just something I want you to hold onto for me, until Saturday." He holds up the thing he'd been fiddling with earlier, when Stiles and his dad were saying their goodbyes. It's flat and rectangular and, for a second, Stiles wonders why Derek wants him to have one of his credit cards. But then Derek flicks it up between his index and middle fingers, flourishing it a little, and Stiles sees what it really is.
"Is that a key card? From a hotel?"
"From our stay at the Venetian. Yeah."
"You. You kept the room key. From our wedding night." Derek nods, flushing a little darker. "You sappy son of a bitch." He leans in quickly, kissing Derek hard before he can get that constipated look on his face. "I love you so fucking much."
The expression on Derek's face is one of such surprised happiness that Stiles thinks his heart might explode. God, it's going to suck so much to be apart for the next five days. He takes the card from Derek, tucking it carefully into his own wallet before following Derek to the door of the dorm room. He takes Derek's hand in his, feeling Derek's wedding ring as they lace their fingers together for a moment. "I love you, too," Derek tells him quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "And just think—a few days from now, we'll be in our own place, not having to navigate whose bed we'll be sleeping in."
"Because it'll just be ours," Stiles says, and Derek nods. Stiles reaches up one hand as Derek opens up the door and steps backwards, leaning against the frame for one last long kiss. He rubs his hand up Derek's neck and cheek when they're done, their foreheads still pressed together. Derek's eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, and Stiles makes sure to memorize the way he looks right then, as much as possible. It'll be enough to hold him over for the next few days, he thinks, as Derek finally lets go of his hand.
"Exactly," Derek says, smiling softly. "Now go on, unpack the few things you didn't leave for me to haul all the way to LA on my own, and go do some typical college shit. Meet people, find the good places to eat and spend free time on campus, figure out how many rules you can break and get away with."
Stiles laughs. "You know me so well."
Derek's grin widens. "Sometimes." He fixes Stiles with a stern look, which is totally ruined by the way his eyes sparkle. "Now promise me you'll try to have at least some typical college experiences before I next see you. I expect to hear all about them."
Stiles tosses him a flippant salute. "Yes, sir. Now go on, before my dad comes back in, assuming I've got you hidden in my closet or something and I'm refusing to let you leave."
Laughing, Derek agrees, gives him one last quick kiss, and walks away, down the hall and out of the building to meet up with Stiles's dad so they can head back to Beacon Hills.
Stiles grins to himself, feeling warmth tinged with excitement fill his chest, knowing that whatever comes next, everything that they have, from Saturday onwards, will be theirs.
And he can't fucking wait.
"So!" a voice says from behind where Stiles is standing in his doorway, watching as Derek rounds the corner and disappears from sight, and Stiles jumps and clutches at his chest before turning to find Leilani looking at him brightly. "Obviously, your husband's off the market, but…."
"But?" Stiles asks, raising his eyebrows.
"You wanna tell me about that older guy? Your dad, maybe? Is he single?" When Stiles starts to splutter, she just laughs. "Not for me, dude. My mom wants to know." Given the face Leilani makes at him, Stiles doesn't completely keep the expression of relief off his face. "Well, is he?"
"He's seeing someone, sorry."
Leilani shrugs. "Then you can be the bearer of bad news," she says, still chipper. "Come on, let's go break the news to her, and then you can join me and Amber and this guy named Joon from two doors down for lunch on the Hill and maybe hit that coffee shop Amber was talking about. If you want, anyway."
Stiles grins. "Hell yeah." He lets her grab him by the hand and lead him down the hall, pulling his door shut with his other hand as they go. He may not be spending much time in his dorm room, but that doesn't mean he can't do as Derek insisted and experience at least some of the typical college freshman life, before they get to really begin their newlywed period.
He's sure as hell not going to complain if the universe—and his husband—plans to let him have the best of both worlds.