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Stiles sighed for what had to be the millionth time in a handful of seconds. If he'd known being the newest deputy for the Beacon County Sheriff's Department meant he was relegated to the shitty shifts, he might have reconsidered joining. Shouldn't being the sheriff's son have some perks? Like, at the very least, not working on New Year's Eve when he could be spending the evening with Derek, cuddled up on the couch under the soft throw blanket they kept there, waiting for the ball to drop.
Instead, he was stuck in his cruiser, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee and scanning the quiet streets, half hoping for some misdemeanor to break up the monotony. Not that he wanted anyone to get hurt or anything, but a little bit of action wouldn't be unwelcome.
Stiles wondered what Derek was doing. He'd tried to convince him to go to Lydia's for her annual New Year's Eve party, but Derek had given him a look of such deep skepticism that Stiles had dropped the subject almost immediately. Probably for the best, Derek and social gatherings didn't exactly mix like gin and tonic. He'd probably be at the loft, brooding over a book or working out, the usual fare for a quiet evening in Hale territory.
The clock on the cruiser's dashboard blinked 11:48 PM. Mocking him. Twelve more minutes until the new year, and there Stiles was, about as far from confetti and countdowns as he could get. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel with a resigned huff, feeling every bit a petulant child rather than a deputy of the law. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was anywhere but here.
A sudden chirp from the radio broke his reverie; a call was coming in. With a jolt, he was all business, reaching for the handset.
"Deputy Stilinski here," he answered, his previous thoughts vanishing instantly as dispatch requested him back to the station. An unexpected surge of adrenaline pulsed through him as he responded with a quick "10-4 en route."
He put the car in gear and maneuvered the cruiser through downtown, hoping it wasn't anything serious. Not when he had plans to call Derek at midnight to wish him a happy new year, to hear his voice, and maybe imagine that he was right there beside him. Briefly, Stiles wondered if he could sneak away after this call to steal a moment with Derek, to ring in the new year together, even if it was after the rest of the world celebrated.
Stiles arrived at the station in record time, but nothing seemed amiss. No other deputies were rushing about, and even the dispatcher, Marley, had a relaxed air as Stiles approached. Confused, he tilted his head and asked, "What's the situation?"
"No situation. Just head into the bullpen." Marley smiled in a way that made Stiles instantly suspicious.
He raised an eyebrow, about to inquire further when he was cut off by music blasting from the other room—*NSYNC, if he wasn't mistaken—and when he walked through the door, he stopped dead in his tracks at the scene before him.
Instead of the chaos he expected, he found the bullpen transformed into a mini celebratory zone, complete with streamers, balloons, and twinkling fairy lights strung across the room.
Stiles grinned so hard he thought his face might split in two as he glanced at the very last person he expected to see tonight.
Derek.
"What is this?" Stiles asked, even though it was obvious Derek had set this up for him. His heart swelled at the thought that Derek had gone to all this trouble just to give him a New Year's surprise. Derek’s gruff exterior, the one he presented to the rest of the world, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a softness in his eyes, a tenderness that was reserved for Stiles alone—something that always left Stiles feeling like the luckiest guy alive.
Derek looked as content as Stiles had ever seen him. A smile tugged at his lips as he simply said, "Surprise."
"I'll say." Stiles stepped closer, noticing there was even a bottle of sparkling grape juice on his desk, along with two plastic flutes. "You did all this for me?"
"Yeah," Derek replied, his voice carrying a warmth that settled deep in Stiles's chest. "It's our first New Year's together in an official capacity. I wanted to spend it with you, even if you're on duty."
The lump in Stiles's throat was unexpected, and he swallowed hard, feeling an overwhelming rush of affection. "I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything. Just...come here," Derek gestured him over, and Stiles didn't need to be told twice. He crossed the room in a few strides and wrapped Derek in an all-consuming hug that was met with equal fervor. And though it didn’t fit the beat at all, they swayed to the music—a private dance in their makeshift party.
When they finally broke apart, the clock on the wall drew Stiles's attention, showing it was only moments to midnight.
"Happy New Year," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Derek's lips, tinged with the promise of the year to come. Derek reciprocated the kiss, deepening it just as the sound of cheers and fireworks from the outside world filtered in. But they were in their own little bubble, the celebration outside dimming in comparison to this moment. As the kiss ended, Stiles couldn't help but laugh. "Best start to a year. Ever."
Derek's answering chuckle rumbled against Stiles's chest, a sound so deep and genuine it made everything else insignificant.
"Happy New Year, Stiles," Derek murmured, his eyes shining with mirth and something softer, something that said this was just the beginning.
As the last remnants of the 'Happy New Year' chants echoed outside, Stiles and Derek shared another kiss. One that drowned out the world, ringing in a new year in the best way possible.
Together.