Work Text:
They’ve been sleeping in the same bed since that night in Oklahoma, and Derek would be lying if he said it wasn’t helping them both. There haven’t been any night terrors, tossing and turning, or insomnia for either of them since they’ve decided to share a bed. Just peaceful nights and contented mornings when they wake up and Stiles is draped over Derek like a blanket.
Derek always wakes first, staring at the boy wrapped around him, and listening to his steady heartbeat.
It takes everything in him not to pet his dark brown hair, or kiss him awake.
It’s usually then, when he starts feeling that way, wanting something that isn’t is, that he slips out of bed, replacing his body with a couple pillows for Stiles to snuggle with, and quietly changes into a T-shirt and basketball shorts.
He sprints all around town, trying to burn off the sexual energy he wakes up with; blocking out soft, pink lips, pale skin dotted with tiny moles, and big, doe eyes.
Admitting to himself long ago that he’s attracted to Stiles was never difficult. Realizing he's in love with him however… It crushes something deep within him when Stiles starts seeing Malia, and Derek could no longer smell that sweet, innocent scent on his skin like strawberries. Stiles wasn’t a virgin anymore, and the fantasy of having him, being his first (and only) was officially ruined.
»»»
They’re standing in front of Little Rock Central High School, just beyond the reflective pool.
Stiles’ eyes rake over the whole building, taking everything in. Derek always knows when his mind is racing; thinking, feeling, remembering all the facts and coming to conclusions.
He loves watching him like this, funneling through information quietly, trying to work it all out. He’s beautiful like this. Sexy. He’s always found Stiles intelligence a turn on. Almost as much as his ruthless ability to care and protect the people he loves.
He’d be such a good mate. Derek immediately tries to kill such a thought. They never lead anywhere positive, just making him sadder, and angrier. Plus, Stiles has been talking, and he’s pretty sure he’s been asked a question.
“…you know?”
Derek nods. “Right.”
“I wish I was that brave. I mean, that’s real fucking courage. Walking in through the doors of this building every day, knowing people hate you, having them spit and curse at you, tell you you’re nothing but… And all you want to do is learn, to grow and be this better, smarter person, and a bunch of cowards can’t stomach the idea because they’re scared and it’s new and change is just something they can’t abide by. Hate is easier and what they’re used to; caring and understanding are hard and disrupts the status quo…”
“I think you’re plenty brave, Stiles. I’ve seen you be brave.”
“Not like them. Not like this.”
“You shouldn’t discount fighting werewolves and darachs as being so minor in regards to courage.”
“Maybe. But it feels different than this,” he says nodding toward the high school. “It feels…asked for, superficial. Armed guards walking you to class is heavier.”
“It is, but so is fighting back demons. The actual ones, and the personal ones.”
And small smiles appears on the human’s face, and Derek feels victorious.
“'Cuse me, boys.”
They turn to a heavy set security guard coming toward them on a golf cart.
“You got a visitor’s pass, gentlemen?”
“Uh, no. Sorry. I didn’t think we needed one.”
“Oh, yeah, you need one, otherwise it’s trespassing. We got a visitor’s center round the side there, but during school hours we don’t let folks on the premises.”
“Sorry. We didn’t know. We just wanted to see the school. We’ll get going then,” Derek says.
“S’alright. There’s a Little Rock Nine memorial at the State Capital if you’re interested.”
“We are. Thank you,” Stiles says politely, even though they’ve already been there. It was the fist place he wanted to go, and Derek had no objections.
The security guards nods. He watches as Derek and Stiles head to the parking lot.
»»»
“Is it gross that I didn’t know there was this much to do in Arkansas?”
Derek chuckles.
“I mean, you grow up in blue state, liberal California your whole life, hearing all about the backwards south and boring bum fuck Midwest, and you can’t quite wrap your head around there being any sort of…culture?”
“There’s no culture in California either. Outside San Francisco anyway.”
Stiles laughs. “Well, I guess to someone who lived in New York for a few years, everywhere else is slow and primitive.”
“Are you calling me a snob?”
“I think we’re both snobs.”
Derek laughs.
“I really had no idea there was this much going on in Little Rock,” he says as they stroll through the very busy River Market District. “I mean, they have an orchestra house, a symphony.”
“So does Long Beach.”
“We’re both definitely snobs. Want to go to the Clinton Presidential Museum later?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Instead they go back to the hotel to rest. Stiles curls into Derek’s side and drapes his arm over his chest, falling fast asleep.
When he wakes up, Derek is already showered and dressed. The werewolf watches the first half of The Adjustment Bureau while waiting for Stiles to get ready. It’s a good movie, a little flawed in some places, but he likes what he’s seen so far, and Stiles manages to chime in and out with commentary, or questions while he moves about the room putting on clothes.
They have dinner at a local place called Vino’s that brews their own beer, and Derek doesn’t say a word when Stiles orders alcohol. He does, however, cut him off when he drops their bread basket on the floor after only two beers.
They talk about the movie they were watching. It starts with Stiles commenting on how attractive Emily Blunt and Matt Damon are, and how he’d watch them in anything. Derek confesses to being a fan of Matt Damon’s work, but utterly clueless as to who exactly the actress is. Stiles rattles off a few of her films, but none seem familiar to Derek.
They move on to the plot of the film, and the Philip K. Dick story it’s based upon, and Stiles starts pondering aloud about destiny, fate, and true love.
Derek pays especial attention to when Stiles mentions Lydia, and how destined he thought they were, and how wrong he was.
“We’re made for each other, but in the same way Scott and I are made for each other, you know? Like…platonic soulmates. Like there’s a connection there, something beyond a basic friendship, but it’s not romantic, and I don’t want it to be.”
“Not when you have Malia.”
“…Malia’s not my soulmate.”
Derek’s knuckles turn white around his fork. “How do you know that?”
“I just do,” he shrugs, looking around, avoiding eye contact with Derek. He’s being evasive. Derek wants to push, but he knows he shouldn’t.
“My parents were soulmates,” Derek offers instead.
“They were,” Stiles asks, looking adorably intrigued.
Derek nods. “Love at first sight. They got married after knowing each other for only a week. He was human.”
“I didn’t know your dad was human. Wow.”
“Yeah. He, uh, he didn’t work. He was a stay-at-home dad. My mom was already so busy with being an Alpha, and her job, that he thought it would be better if he was at home full-time with us and my cousins…Peter’s kids.”
“Peter had kids?”
“Yeah. He had two boys, and one on the way. Yvette, his wife, she died in the fire with them.”
Derek knows the light mood of their dinner is now dampened with talking about the fire, but he felt like sharing, like saying something about it to Stiles.
Stiles’ hand reaches across the table and squeezes Derek’s fingers. “Thank you, for telling me that.”
“It’s okay,” he says, trying to make it sound offhand, and not the thoughtful piece of information it is. Stiles just smiles, and takes his hand back.
Their waitress approaches, clearing their empty plates and asking about dessert. Stiles orders something called a pizookie, which is a large cookie, baked like a pizza, and topped with ice cream. They share it, and Derek tries hard to will his erection down from the orgasmic sounds Stiles makes while eating it.
He has to run for an extra hour before bed because of it.
When he gets back to the hotel, Stiles is up, waiting for him. “That movie we were watching earlier is about to come on HBO again. If you want to watch it with me.”
He knows Stiles couldn’t sleep without him, and probably didn’t want to try to.
He wouldn’t either.
“Let me shower really quick.”
“Okay.”
Derek showers hurriedly, then joins Stiles on the bed. Stiles sits close, his thigh touching Derek’s thigh. He sometimes forgets he’s only an inch taller than Stiles.
He’s looked so small and rundown since the nogistune…
“I think my parents were soulmates, too,” he says when Matt Damon meets Emily Bunt for the first time. “They didn’t meet and get married like your parents, but I know they were the love of each other’s life. He was so broken when she died…and I think I’m the only reason he didn’t completely lose it, you know?”
“I think you're a great reason not to fall apart.”
“…You don’t say much, but when you do, when you try…”
“…Thanks.”
Something passes between them. Something that makes Derek's skin hot, and forces him to advert his eyes from Stiles' lips. They're both quiet for too long, eyes on everything but each other, and movie playing onscreen in front of them.
Finally, Stiles asks, “So we believe in soulmates, right?”
It sounds like a real question, but feels rhetorical. But God help him, he does. After all his failed relationships and one night stands in New York, and after Paige and Kate, he can’t help it. He can’t look at this boy beside him, and not.
“Yeah. We believe in soulmates.”
Stiles smiles. He ducks his head when his cheeks turn pink. “Good, because it looks like it runs in our families, so we better.”
The corner of Derek’s mouth turns up. He nods. “Right.”