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The leaving is the worst.
He hates it.
The way it makes his insides twist.
That might be the thrust from the engines propelling them into the air though.
Every time they touch down he feels like he can breathe again.
Its not quite what he thought it would be, the hours are long, he doesn't get much sleep, and he sees the inside of a lot of hotel rooms.
And taxis.
He still hasn't stayed anywhere long enough to do more than the most popular tourist attractions, learn ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ and ‘thank you’.
Still, its better than rotting into the scenery back home.
The safety tone bongs and he unbuckles his seatbelt, getting up as Suleena announces that a refreshments cart will be coming around shortly, and could passengers please remember to keep their seat-belts fastened while seated.
He goes to the tiny kitchen and unfastens the trolley, checking there are enough paper cups for economy.
It’s squalling when they arrive, and the plane makes six rounds of the circuit before they can land.
The passengers all clap when the wheels touch down.
Stiles just frowns through his migraine.
Derek is waiting with a soft smile in the arrivals lounge when he gets out a half hour later.
“Hi”
“Hi”
“How was the flight?”
He takes Stiles’ bag.
“Long.”
And they walk towards the exit.
Derek’s wipers make a shushing sound as they drive, Stiles can feel his eyelids trying to close, the itch of his uniform almost ignorable through the fatigue.
“I got your card today.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm” Derek flicks the indicator to turn down their street. “How long you been up?”
“Um…” Stiles checks his watch. “Almost Nineteen hours.”
Derek nods, pulling up to the curb. Stiles starts to unbuckle his seatbelt.
“Hang on, I’ll get the umbrella.”
He goes around the car to hold it over Stiles as he gets out, handing it to him when he goes to pull his suitcase out of the trunk.
“Thanks.”
He smiles again.
“What time do you want me to wake you?” He hovers by the doorframe.
“Um…” Stiles rubs his eyes, feeling his spine settle against the mattress. “Seven? I probably shouldnt…”
“Oversleep”
“Yeah that.”
Derek chuckles. “See you at Seven then.”
“Night”
“Night Stiles.”
He wakes up slowly, eyes focusing blearily on Dereks face and then on the digital clock next to the bed.
“You let me keep sleeping.” He mumbles indignantly through a yawn.
Derek smiles and puts a mug of coffee on the bedside table. “Breakfasts in the kitchen.”
Stiles nods, struggling upright on his elbows and grabbing the mug. “Mmmmmmm, they do not make it this good in Romania.”
Derek snorts, settling on the end of the bed by Stiles’ feet. “They don’t make it this good anywhere.”
“S’true.”
Maude trots into the room and leaps onto the comforter, beelining up the bed to settle across Stiles middle.
Derek chuckles.
“Hello Muds” Stiles settles back on the pillows so he can scratch her chin and sip his coffee at the same time.
“She missed you again… I found her in your sock drawer on Tuesday, still don’t know how she got in there.”
Stiles grins at his cat, poking her nose. “Did you miss me Muddles?”
She mewls reproachfully and he goes back to scritching her neck.
Derek thumps his ankle and gets up. “Better make sure I haven’t burned your eggs.”
“Mmkay, Be there in a bit.”
Derek waves his assent as he leaves the room.
After a moment Stiles carefully moves Maude off his stomach and heaves himself upright, she meows again, but stays where he put her, eyes following him around the room as he finds some sweats.
“S’all right Muds, I’m not going again for a while yet.”
She mrows and stretches out in his warm patch, just the tip of her tail flicking.
Derek waves his egg flip at the bench when Stiles walks in. “Sit, it’s almost ready.”
Stiles pulls out a stool. “How’s the shop?”
“Same as always. Mrs Peterson came in the other day and bought one of those books on Croatia that Dennis messed up the order for, theres only seven now.” He flips bacon onto their plates and sticks the pan and egg-slide in the sink. “Oh and George wants to know if you’ll sell him The Fountainhead yet.”
“Absolutely not!” Stiles squawks. “That book is priceless, I’m gonna make my grandkids read it. It’s in my will.”
Derek smiles as he puts their plates on the table. “Thats what I told him. He still insisted you think about it.”
“Ha!”
They eat in silence, Derek’s knee bumping his under the table, he leans back casually when he’s done.
“Your Dad wants us to come to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Okay.”
“Scott’s got to be at the clinic till seven, but he’s said he’ll drop by after that. Apparently you agreed to a lunch date with Erica-“ He gives Stiles a stern look “-this weekend.”
“It was unavoidable! You know what happens when you leave me to fend for myself at Costco!”
Derek just makes a face.
“Oh shut up, she’s pregnant, you’re not allowed to say no to pregnant people.”
Maude Meows from the floor, neck craned up to look at them.
Stiles stoops down to pick her up.
“Even Maude knows you’re a sucker.”
“Shut up, you love me.”
Derek chuckles. “Not enough to do the dishes.”
Stiles looks over at the sink sharply. “God dammit.”
He pushes back from the table and picks up their plates, setting them in the sink and turns on the tap running it till the water gets hot.
Derek comes up behind him and slides his arms around his ribs “You love me.”
Stiles feels him smile into his shoulder and sighs. “I do.”