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I.
To be honest, Scott doesn’t really get the whole Stiles and Derek thing. Not that he’s not happy for his best bro! Of course he is!
It’s just… well, Derek’s so growly and grumpy and Scott’s pretty sure he’s never seen him so much as smile at his supposed boyfriend. I mean, what is that about?! He’s shared these concerns with Stiles, of course, but his best friend doesn’t seem the least bit insecure.
“He’s just really not into PDA,” Stiles had explained. “But trust me, he’s, like, a completely different person when no one’s watching.”
Well, that’s not helpful! How is Scott supposed to see what Derek is like as a boyfriend if he shuts down every time anyone else is around?! And if he can’t see Derek as a boyfriend, he can’t approve of Derek as a boyfriend, and then Stiles has to deal with being in a relationship that isn’t best friend approved. (Of course, Derek’s managed to gain the Sheriff’s approval, but that’s probably because he kisses his ass at the station whenever he’s at work.)
Scott continues to be resistant to the whole relationship- even causing a few fights between the two best friends- until a random pack movie night in October.
They alternate who gets to pick the movie every week and tonight is Lydia’s night. AKA- The Notebook night, because in the three years they have been doing this, that is the only movie she has chosen! It is a point of major contention amongst the group. Stiles has even tried to hijack the excel sheet that keeps track of whose night is whose in order to take Lydia off it completely.
Lydia, genius that she is, had texted him not half an hour later to say Nice try and had officially locked him out of the document, making herself the sole editor. After that, they’d had no choice but to resign themselves to cheesy kissing in the rain and men literally threatening suicide if a strange woman doesn’t agree to date him.
The pack begrudgingly gathers in the living room of the rebuilt Hale house, sitting in the seats that have become their usual spots by now- Stiles and Derek are on the loveseat in the corner. Scott, Lydia Allison are on the couch with Isaac, Boyd, and Erica on the ground in front of them, lounging on bean bag chairs. Erica and Boyd snuggle together in a way that does not let anyone wonder about the state of their relationship, unlike Stiles and Derek who are sitting completely parallel to each other, not touching other than the soft brush of their shoulders.
Allie commands Noah to tell her that he’s a bird and Scott is wishing he was a bird so he could get up and fly away from this dumb movie. Desperate for a distraction, he turns his gaze away from the screen and starts observing the states of his pack members- hoping that one of them will spot him and he can experience some solidarity in their mutual misery.
And that’s when he sees it-
Over on the love seat, Stiles is fast asleep, his mouth hanging open like a fish, with a tiny bit of drool coming out, and he’s taken Derek’s shoulder as a pillow. Scott tenses for a second, preparing to rescue his friend from Derek’s inevitable wrath. He half leaves his seat, expecting Derek to violently shove Stiles off of him, but that’s not at all what happens.
Rather than a scowl, he finds a small, pleased smile on Derek’s face as he looks down at the man currently drooling all over his grey Henley. The sight literally knocks Scott on his ass, sending him right back down into the seat cushion he was about to vacate. He thinks his own mouth is as gaping as Stiles'. He can do nothing but blink in shock as Derek uses his free hand to reach around and grab a blanket off the back of the seat before draping it over his sleeping boyfriend, making sure he’s as comfortable and cozy as possible.
It’s then that Derek notices Scott looking at him and that sweet smile immediately morphs into a threatening, subvocal growl, causing Scott to jerk his head back towards the screen. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t comment. He doesn’t even look their way for the rest of the night, despite his curiosity.
But all of the doubt and concern he had been carrying over his best friend’s first serious relationship vanishes completely. Because, as it turns out, Derek really is a completely different person when no one is watching.
II.
If Isaac wasn’t a werewolf- if he didn’t have an enhanced sense of smell- he wouldn’t believe that Stiles and Derek were in a relationship. As is, there is no doubt in his mind. The two always smell as if they’ve taken a bath in each other’s scent. Anyone with a nose like his could walk into a room and immediately identify those two as mates.
It’s not as if it’s a secret, of course. Derek had announced it in a very short, blunt speech at a pack meeting about six months ago. He’d then quickly vacated the room as soon as the questions had started. Stiles, kindly, answered a few before managing to change the subject. His boyfriend was obviously very private and Stiles respected that.
It’s just that, since that first announcement, there has not been any more indications to their relationship. Not visually at least. Stiles will still refer to Derek as his boyfriend and often spends the night in Derek’s room at the pack house. (It’s soundproof, so there is no way any of them can hear whatever’s going on in there). But the two don’t so much as hold hands when the pack is around. Seriously, it’s as if nothing has changed from the time when Stiles and Derek’s relationship consisted of nothing but growling and snarking at each other. Well, even then, at least Derek was shoving him against walls. Now, it’s like they’re allergic to each other.
But that all changes the day they go to the lake.
It’s late enough in the spring for the water to actually be tolerable and Stiles decided that that meant a trip to the lake was the only logical way to spend the day. Not that anyone argued with him, the lake is nice and they’re all sick of being stuck indoors due to the cold and rain. So they spend the morning packing the Jeep, Lydia and Stiles working together to make snacks, while Erica and Boyd fill a cooler with sodas, water, and some wolfbane-laced beer. Once they are all ready, they pack into a few different cars and head that way.
As soon as they get there, everyone but Isaac, Derek, and Lydia charge into the water. Lydia throws her towel down and puts on some tanning lotion before lying down and trying to get a little color on her skin. Derek, ever the dutiful alpha, starts laying out towels for everyone else, so they will have something to dry off with when they’re done, before throwing himself down on his own towel and keeping an eye on his pack as they play around in the water. Isaac, on the other hand, just plops down on his own towel and grabs a book. Growing up with an abusive, swim coach father had made him weary of anything aquatic.
He quickly gets lost in the words on the pages before him, the sounds of his pack’s shouts and screams along with the splashing of lake water providing a nice ambient soundtrack. After a couple hours, he hears Stiles get out of the water and plop down on the towel next to Derek. Isaac glances up curiously, wondering if maybe they’ll at least lean against each other, only to find the two a good foot apart from one another. Slightly disappointed, he grabs himself a soda and tunes them out as they start to make idle small talk with each other.
It’s when Scott and Allison start playing Erica and Boyd in a game of chicken that Isaac is once again roused from his story.
“Get her in a headlock!” Stiles shouts, and when Isaac looks up he sees the man is now standing, slightly closer to Derek than before. “Hey! No werewolf powers! That’s cheating!”
Isaac is just about to sit up to get a better view of the competition when his eyes catch on the motion of Derek’s hand. The alpha’s fingers are grazing Stiles’ ankle, sensually sliding up his leg until they reach his calf where he starts gently massaging the muscles there. Isaac can’t help but blush at the sight. It’s the touch of two people who know each other’s bodies intimately. A touch that is practiced and comfortable. One that is certainly not meant for his prying eyes.
He feels caught between his captivation at the never-before-seen evidence of Derek and Stiles’ private life and the knowledge that Derek would obviously not be doing this if he realized Isaac was no longer engrossed in his book behind them. In the end, his desire to respect his alpha wins out and he flips his novel open once more, pretending that he never saw a thing.
III.
Lydia occasionally feels a bit inferior in a pack of wolves. Specifically when it comes to physical training. Allison, Stiles, and she are always given some alternate exercises to work alongside the wolves, or are simply told to sit and wait while the others go trekking through the woods.
But research? That is her time to shine.
Which is why she is currently standing in the pack house, staring down at a map with Scott, Isaac, Derek, and Stiles in a circle around her.
“Alright,” Stiles clears his throat. “So the last sighting of the selkie was over here,” he points to a spot on the map and then sniffles. “But the last body found was here,” his finger moves to the other side of the map. “So what are we thinking?”
Lydia hears the roughness in his voice and looks up. One glance at his red nose and watery eyes and she, as subtly as possible, takes a few steps away from him. She is not about to risk getting sick.
“Could it be a pack of selkies?” Scott suggests.
“Unlikely,” Stiles rasps. “Most selkies don’t venture out onto land in groups. They are too vulnerable in their human form.”
He coughs, suddenly and thickly.
This is when Scott and Isaac seem to notice something is wrong. Derek, to his credit, has been eyeing Stiles curiously since he first walked in, but has yet to say anything. It’s as if he sees things are out of place, but can’t manage to put the pieces together.
“Stiles, man, you good?” Scott asks.
Stiles clears his throat and sniffles again. “Sorry, just got a bit of a cold.”
“ What?!” Derek shouts, his eyes going wide and wild, his typically closed off posture immediately turning frazzled.
“Oh, relax, Sourwolf! You can still kiss me all you want. It’s not like I can get you sick.”
Derek scowls at him. “Stiles, you’re an idiot,” he snaps, grabbing his boyfriend by the arm and dragging him up the stairs to their bedroom.
“Lay down! Now!” Derek commands loudly enough for even Lydia’s human ears to pick up.
Meanwhile, Scott and Isaac just look at one another in uncertainty, as if they want to help, but aren’t sure how.
“What do we do?” Scott asks, frantic.
Lydia rolls her eyes. “Honestly? You guys were human for sixteen years! Your mom is literally a nurse, Scott! How are you so useless?!”
They just look at her with wide, pleading eyes, clearly desperate for some instructions.
She groans. “Go to the store and get cold medicine, cough drops, and at least two boxes of tissues.”
They move at once, rushing out the door and leaving Lydia to stroll into the kitchen and start putting together a chicken noodle soup- her grandmother’s recipe. It’s always the best thing to help her feel better.
Once it’s done, she places a bowl of it carefully on a tray and starts making her way up to the master bedroom. The room is soundproof when the door is shut- which is typically the case if the two are in their together- but today the door is tilted open just enough for Lydia to get a clear view of Stiles lying in bed and Derek sitting beside him, his hands softly brushing through Stiles’ hair.
“My voice sounds pretty sexy like this, don’t you think?” Stiles rasps.
“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek says with no real heat.
“Oh come on! You totally want a piece of thi-” his last word is cut off with a sudden and violent coughing fit.
Derek rolls his eyes as his boyfriend settles back down, his fingers continuing to massage his scalp. Lydia’s eyebrow quirks up in intrigue when Derek then leans forward to press a kiss to Stiles’ forehead. Somewhere in the back of her head she knows she should look away, but she just can’t bring herself to do it. This is like catching a glimpse of the lost city of Atlantis. She never thought in a million years that this is something she’d see with her own two eyes.
Obviously, she knows what the two must get up to when they’re alone. They are dating after all. Yet, something about the sweet, intimate gesture feels so abnormal coming from Derek that it leaves her gobsmacked.
“You know I always want you,” Derek whispers softly, his lips still grazing Stiles’ temple.
IV.
One of the worst things about being a cop- one Parrish hoped he’d never have to experience- is having to watch one of your fellow officers fall to the ground, blood all over their once tan shirt.
But even worse than that? Having to call your boss’ twenty-two year old son and tell him that his father is being rushed to the hospital with severe injuries.
“‘Sup, Parrish!” Stiles answers cheerfully. His voice is garbled like he has a glob of peanut butter or something in his mouth. “Did you manage to get all that paperwork done for the Donner case?”
Parrish opens his mouth to speak, unsure what to say. He is clearly too slow on the draw, though, because Stiles just keeps going when he doesn’t get an immediate response.
“Oh, hey, did Derek tell you about the pack barbeque next weekend? I told him to remind you when he got into work, but you know Derek, requesting people to come socialize with him is like pulling fangs.”
Parrish finally finds his voice.
“Stiles,” he blurts, and the guilt and anguish he feels must be obvious in his tone, because Stiles shuts up immediately. “It’s your dad.”
Stiles hangs up before he can even explain, clearly garnering enough information from Parrish’s voice to infer that they are at the hospital, or at least, are in route to it. Parrish doesn’t hesitate before dialing the next number on his list. Typically, Parrish would expect Stiles, the glue that holds the pack together, to be the one spreading the word to everyone else, but given the injured party, Parrish knows that that isn’t going to happen today.
“Hello,” Derek answers gruffly.
“Derek, the Sheriff’s in the hospital. We were attacked by a band of goblins while patrolling in the Preserve.”
Derek hangs up without responding and Parrish fights the urge to roll his eyes at now being hung up on twice. Those two really are meant for each other, he thinks, before moving on to the next phone call.
Stiles, of course, is the first to arrive.
“What happened?” he asks, his eyes full of panic, though the rest of him seems perfectly composed. Parrish knows him well enough to know he is simply holding it together to avoid breaking down in front of anyone. If there is one thing Stiles never does, it’s let anyone see him cry. He’s been that way as long as Parrish has known him- holding everything in until, presumably, he’s alone and can finally let himself feel.
“Some goblins swarmed us. One of them got your dad in the side with its claws. I don’t know the extent of the injuries yet, but he lost a lot of blood.”
Stiles takes a deep breath and turns his back on Parrish, looking instead at the doors that lead to the ORs as if he is considering running through them and finding his father. Luckily, he doesn’t. He simply stands there, stiff as a board, not acknowledging his friends as Scott, Allison, and Lydia all barge in demanding answers. He doesn’t ask questions or otherwise engage as Parrish fills the others in with a more detailed description of the events.
The rest of them start discussing the goblins, trying to come up with a plan to get rid of them, occasionally sending nervous glances Stiles’ way. He doesn’t interact, though. He doesn’t ask questions or make suggestions as he typically would. He simply keeps his back turned and his shoulders stiff as he stares off in the direction of his father’s operation room.
“I’m here!” Derek declares, striding into the waiting room with frantic, purposeful steps.
Stiles turns around immediately, his shoulders slumping as he looks at Derek with bleary eyes.
“Derek,” he gasps in a desperate voice.
Parrish can hear the request in that one word. Stiles is pleading with Derek to take him away. Take him somewhere where the two can be alone. Where Stiles can finally break down and cry like he’s been forcing himself not to do ever since he received Parrish’s call.
Derek hears it, too.
“Come here,” he says, his voice and his eyes softer than Parrish has ever seen them as he gently grabs Stiles’ hand and pulls him into an empty, single-use bathroom down the hall.
All the supernaturals with enhanced auditory range pretend they can’t hear the way Stiles immediately bursts into sobs the moment the door is closed behind them. They don’t acknowledge Derek’s delicate whispers of, “it’s okay” and “I’ve got you,” as he holds Stiles tightly, the younger man’s sobs becoming muffled by Derek’s shirt as he’s pressed tightly to his boyfriend’s chest. They give them their privacy, as much as they can, until the doctor comes out to tell the news that the Sheriff is going to be alright.
They listen as Derek relays the message to Stiles and the two emerge not a minute later, the only evidence that Stiles was anything other than perfectly put together is his red-rimmed eyes and the wet spot on Derek’s Henley.
V.
Stealth is important when you are a hunter. It’s the only way for a mere human to ever manage to get an advantage on a werewolf. And it takes a lot of work to learn how to get close to them undetected. Allison has been working on improving her stealth ever since she learned about the supernatural. Which is why she is currently wandering through the Preserve in the middle of the night, trying to successfully stay hidden from Scott as he attempts to track her.
She’s learned a few tricks in her time. She knows to move with light, deliberate steps. She knows to be hyper vigilant, avoiding any leaves or twigs that might make noise and alert others to your presence. She knows to keep her heart steady and slow. A werewolf can hear a human heart if they are listening for it, but if you don’t give them a reason to expect you, then they won’t have their hearing honed in so intently. Scott knows not to keep his hearing tuned in for her until he hears something to otherwise alert him to her presence. She keeps her pulse points caked in mud, as well, in order to help her cover her scent as she carefully manoeuvres through the trees.
She’s just coming up to the clearing with all the gorgeous wildflowers, about a mile from the Hale house, when she hears voices. She pauses for a second, not sure if she should be expecting a friend or a foe, when she hears a gasp. Cautiously, she inches closer, her brows furrowing when she spots twinkle lights scattered in the trees across the glade. That’s when she hears a laugh, one that without a doubt comes from Stiles.
Realizing that there is a friend up ahead rather than an enemy, she starts forward, prepared to alert Stiles and whoever he’s with of her presence so she doesn’t feel like a creeper. Only, when she gets close enough to see them, she finds Stiles standing in the center of the clearing, smiling down at Derek, who is on his knee before him, Stiles’ hand in his.
She freezes, suddenly aware of exactly what kind of scene she’d almost interrupted. And now she's terrified to make a noise and somehow ruin it. She’s scared to even breathe.
“I can’t imagine life without you,” Derek says, clearly in the middle of a romantic speech. “I don’t want to remember the lack of warmth, the loneliness , that was my life before you stumbled your way into it. So, Mieczysław Stilinski,” Stiles groans at the use of his first name. “Will you do me the honor of being my husband?”
“Of course, I will, Sourwolf,” Stiles responds with a wet voice. “It’s about damn time.”
Derek rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face betrays his excitement as he stands up and pulls Stiles into a deep, passionate kiss. Allison blushes at the scene, finally regaining use of her legs in order to quietly step away and afford them their privacy. She walks back the way she came, her spirits high thinking about how elated her friends had looked as they agreed to spend their lives together. She’s beyond happy for them.
“Gotcha!” Scott shouts as she makes her way back towards the car. “That wasn’t even thirty minutes.” His voice is filled with pride at finally managing to find his girlfriend so easily.
Allison can’t manage to do anything but smile at him.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Scott asks, his excitement turning into suspicion.
She simply shrugs.
“You’ll know soon enough,” she says. It’s not her news to share and she has no interest in ruining their moment. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Scott looks very confused and curious, but lets Allison drag him back to the car without complaint.
+1
Not a single person in the crowd can believe their eyes when they watch Derek Hale walk up the aisle with the biggest smile on his face. Most of them didn’t even know his face could do that. Even the damn wedding party keeps sending him disbelieving glances as he settles on his spot at the altar, waiting for his groom to follow him down.
And by the time he does, wearing a well-fitted burgundy suit, Derek’s entire face is lit up like the sun. Half the crowd isn’t even watching Stiles stroll down the aisle with his dad by his side, as graceful as he’s ever been, because they can’t manage to take their eyes off of the notoriously burly and brusque deputy/alpha werewolf smiling like he’s the most joyous person in the world.
Not that Stiles notices the lack of attention, of course. He can’t take his eyes off Derek either. Although, for him, the grin is nothing new. Derek is not shy about smiling when they’re together. But Stiles knows that this smile is typically reserved for him and him alone. He’s incredibly proud of his future spouse for letting his guard down enough to share his joy with all these people around. Derek, for his part, is far too happy to let anything, including a crowd of people, rein it in.
The Sheriff shakes Derek’s hand when he and his son successfully make it to the altar. He’s seen Derek smile in passing, when he’s at the station and answers a call from Stiles or when they’ve all gathered for family dinner and he doesn’t think either Stilinski man is looking. But never has he seen it so open, completely unbothered by the numerous eyes catching sight of it. It’s as if he’s finally allowing himself to let the world know that he’s happy. That rough, tough, unshakable Derek Hale actually has a heart. And that heart is on full display as he takes Stiles’ hands in his and vows to love him, care for him, and protect him for the rest of his life.
The ceremony is short, but tears at the heartstrings of everyone in the audience in a way that puts The Notebook to shame. As soon as Deaton declares they are officially wed, the two kiss, causing uproarious applause from their friends and family who are gathered to witness their union. Honestly, despite the two calling themselves boyfriend/fiance, most of the crowd thought they had something more akin to a platonic roommate situation going on until now. But, based on the familiarity and ease of their kiss, it is clearly not the first, nor even the hundredth time they’ve done this.
Following the ceremony is a nice reception out in the Preserve, behind the Hale House. Lydia was (of course) in charge of planning and decorating, and she somehow managed to make the space look like an enchanted forest from a fairytale. Which, as Stiles points out, isn’t far off considering there are “mythical” creatures living out here. Derek rolls his eyes and playfully nudges him away, before immediately pulling him back in to peck him on the lips.
Because apparently kissing in public is a thing he has no issue with doing any longer. Or, for the very least, the rest of the night.
The dinner is served, the cake is cut, and the champagne flutes are seemingly never empty. The night air is warm and breezy as everyone talks, drinks and dances the night away. But the dance floor quickly empties out whenever a slow song plays, all the couples too busy gaping and gawking at Derek holding Stiles tenderly in his arms to care about having their own romantic moment.
“Am I hallucinating?” Erica asks at one point, Unchained Melody drifting through the speakers around them. “I feel like I’m hallucinating. It’s the only explanation.”
Boyd shrugs his shoulders at her, his own eyes as wide and surprised as the stoic man can manage. But the rest of the pack just smile on, all of them having managed to previously catch a little glimpse of the Derek Hale before them.
The Derek Hale who is head over heels in love with Stiles Stilinski.