Work Text:
Some day in December:
“Derek!! They have dick shaped pizza slices in the Castro! We have to go right now.”
Is the first thing Stiles says when he barges into the loft. He has pictures of pizzas printed from some website, waving them in the air like a frantic child.
Derek, who was finishing doing dishes when Stiles walked in, just stops and takes a deep breathe. He rubs his hand, still wet, across his face.
Love is blind, Derek tells himself. He dries his face and hands before leaving the kitchen to see why they need this dick pizza.
“Look at this! They cover the head of the pizza with whatever topping you choose. We gotta have a mushroom topping because how can we not. It's also extra cheesy so strings can fall from you mouth like, well you know. I wonder if there is a female equivalent for Lydia and Allison.”
“Stiles, we do not need dick pizza. I'm not driving to the city for this.”
“But Derek, when will we ever get the chance to eat genital shaped food! They're not easy to find you know. Unless it's a cake, but you can make cake into anything so that doesn't count. Neither do pancakes. Or cookies, or candy.”
This is ridiculous. Honestly, Derek loves the man. Almost a year together and they are going strong, but sometimes Stiles minds goes to places that he will never understand. Sometimes if Derek lets him talk long enough, he'll forget about whatever he started with and be focused into something different. That is why Derek is now sitting on the couch with his head resting on the cushion while Stiles takes the spot next to him with his mouth rambling away.
He tunes him out for a while, letting his mind wonder to anything to comes. Derek wonders what Cora is doing right now. Maybe she found someone since they last talked a week ago. He should call her soon.
Groceries, repairs, bills, birthdays, clothes. The thoughts cycled for as long as Stiles kept talking. When he drifts back to Stiles, the guy is still talking about one of his classmates who didn't know when to stop asking the professor questions. Then it immediately changed to the professor being a dick for giving them a research paper to do.
Derek wonders back to his thoughts and remembers when he attended college in New York. He didn't know what to major in until his 3rd year. Laura became a real estate agent, actually becoming one of the most successful in the area. It's also why they got their Condo for an amazing deal. It was spacious with a great view of the city. They each had their own room, but most nights found them sleeping tangled in each others arms.
She tried so hard for both of them. She never blamed him for what happened, always telling him what a good brother he is and that she'll always love him. On Holidays and birthdays, Laura would always try to make it happy for the both of them and it worked sometimes. He remembers that on one birthday, she took the day off and cooked a huge meal for Derek, enough to fill a whole house. Laura said that after they ate, they were going to the homeless shelter and serve the left overs.
It made him happier than he has been for months, like he was finally atoning for his mistakes. Since then, Laura made sure they squeezed in a lot of activities. It lasted for years, but always giving Christmas day to themselves. It worked because Derek started to slowly forgive himself. They were moving on from the tragedy and began building new lives together. Derek started to believe that it gets better. Then it all stopped.
The loft became quite. Stiles stopped talking when he saw Derek's face, seeing that Derek was reliving some grief.
“Derek?” He asked gently, resting his hand on the man's arm. He scooted a little closer, making sure Derek can feel his warmth against him. “Whats got you down?”
“Thinking about Laura. The life I had with her back in New York. How she would always have us do something together.”
“Like what?” Derek smiles a little to himself and goes off to talk about all of the things Laura had them do. How she thought it would be a great idea to try dog walking on the weekends until she got frustrated and went alpha on the dogs. The dogs got scared shitless at her, which also upset the owners so they never got a call back.
Or how they took some art classes when Derek had academic recess. That didn't go so well either because their patience was gone after the day tired them out.
Derek laughed when he told Stiles how Laura slammed some guys face to the ground and tied his pants around his ankles for cat calling her one night when they were walking back home. The guy had two friends who tried to get away, but he held them by their collars like deviant children so Laura can deal with them. They got let off easy with a warning, but only because she scared the shit out of them.
Stiles rested his head on Derek's shoulder with his eyes closed and listening to his stories of New York, letting the silence settle in when the man stopped talking. They ended up snuggling together in the couch until Derek tired himself. When he looked up after sometime, Derek had fallen asleep.
Stiles got up to get some pillows and blankets from the bedroom. He laid Derek down on the couch, putting a pillow under his head, and then laying himself on top with the blankets. Stiles ran his fingers across Derek's chest, thinking about Derek's life back in New York. He sounded so happy back there. Way happier than his time here back home.
That thought made him pause. Derek is happy with him, the guy has told him many times he's happy to be in a relationship with him. But what about the years before that? Derek has been here since Stiles was in High School. Now he is a second year college student working for his degree in forensic science. The years in between has been shit to the wolf, making Stiles feel guilty about wanting none of it to change.
Stiles stopped thinking, letting nothing but the sound of Derek's heartbeat quite his mind. Feeling the rise and fall of Derek's chest with every breathe he takes. Having his sense be nothing but Derek.
“I hope I can make you better memories.” Stiles fell asleep soon after saying those words. Derek moved his hand from hanging off the couch to rest on Stiles back, slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth between Stiles shoulder blades.
“You already are.” He whispered.