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After the long process of rebuilding the Hale house to its former majesty, it quickly became Pack Central when the younger members returned from college. Afterwards, most of the pack found their own apartments and housing; Scott and Kira moved in together after a quiet wedding; Malia persuaded Derek to let her rent the loft from him, where Lydia often stayed with her after fixing it up. To everyone’s surprise, Jackson moved in with Scott and had resumed a tentative relationship with Lydia, but it was slow going. Everyone could see how much effort he was putting into this though, like he was determined to get it right.
Stiles…well, Derek wasn’t sure how it had happened exactly, but Stiles had all but moved in with him. He and Lydia had a shared apartment, but from what Derek could tell, neither of them used it much. As a matter of fact, the lease ended next month, and they had decided not to renew it at all.
“Where will you live?” Derek asked Stiles one afternoon.
Stiles shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”
And now that had led them here: to the furniture store. Stiles had woken Derek up at eight in the morning, refusing to tell him where they were going until they were there. “I don’t need new furniture,” Derek said, confused.
“You don’t have a lot of furniture to begin with,” Stiles pointed out. “You’ve got at least three spare bedrooms and all that’s in those are some mattresses. You need actual bed frames, and dressers and stuff to put clothes in. Make it feel like a home and less like somewhere that you’re just staying in temporarily. You know? Make it comfortable.”
Derek couldn’t really argue with him, especially when it was looking more and more like Stiles was just planning on sneakily taking over one of those guest bedrooms anyways. He figured it wasn’t quite the time to tell him that Derek would gladly share his own room with him, like they had some nights when they’d been talking too late and Derek didn’t feel like sending Stiles out. Waking up next to Stiles was one of his favorite things, even more than falling asleep next to him. But Stiles didn’t know that.
So Derek trailed behind Stiles as he picked out new bed frames, and ornate dressers that would look good in the house but weren’t too expensive. He occasionally turned around to ask Derek what he thought about it, but for the most part he seemed content to do all the looking himself. Every now and then, Derek would touch his shoulder softly because their poor guide looked lost trying to keep up with Stiles’ ongoing chatter.
“So how long have you two been together?” the guide (Frank) asked when Stiles finally fell silent upon reaching an area that seemed dedicated to bookcases. He’d insisted that Derek needed one, rather than just keep stacks of books along the walls that tumbled over every now and then. Derek hadn’t given any sort of argument about it, since he’d wanted one for awhile anyways.
Stiles went completely still for a second and his heartbeat rocketed up almost immediately, almost too quickly to notice. He was moving again in the next second, examining the bookcases with extreme care that was almost convincing, if Derek wasn’t able to hear how his heartbeat stuttered in his chest. “About a year,” Derek told Frank, just to see what Stiles’ heartbeat would do. “We’re moving in together.”
Frank nodded approvingly, even as Stiles shot Derek a wide-eyed look that should’ve meant “What the fuck?” but came across more “Shit shit shit,” which Derek could definitely get behind. He raised an eyebrow at Stiles, daring him to protest. But Stiles swallowed hard and looked away, though his fingers were trembling now.
When Frank turned to answer another customer’s question, Derek stepped forward and wrapped a hand around the back of Stiles’ neck, letting his thumb rub circles into the juncture between neck and shoulder. Stiles’ whole body, even his heartbeat, relaxed automatically in the way that he did every time Derek touched him lately. Maybe longer than lately. Derek had been afraid to pay too much attention.
By the time they left, lunchtime had long since come and gone, and Stiles was unusually quiet on the drive back to the house. Upon arriving there, he made no move to get out of the Jeep. “I think I’m going to head home,” he said quietly, avoiding Derek’s questioning gaze. “There’s some paperwork I need to get done before school starts up.”
“All your paperwork is here,” Derek reminded him. He was smiling softly now, because he was pretty sure he knew why Stiles was radiating unease and regret. When Stiles didn’t answer, Derek got out of the car and walked over to the driver’s side, opening the door. He went so far as to reach across Stiles’ lap and unbuckle his seatbelt before tugging Stiles out. “C’mon, Stiles. Stay with me.”
Stiles closed his eyes, clearly torn between leaning closer and pulling away. “I don’t think I should.” But he wasn’t moving either way, and Derek closed the door and gently guided Stiles into the house. He began speaking again when Derek pulled him upstairs. “Derek, really, I don’t—I can’t.”
That’s when Derek stopped and pressed his lips to Stiles’ temple, gently talking against his skin like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I want you to,” he murmured softly. “I also want to take a nap right now, because you decided it was time to get up way too early, and I’d like it if you took that nap with me.” He felt the full-body shudder that went through Stiles, and continued to walk backwards to his bedroom, looking Stiles in the eye the entire time.
“Derek, you don’t—you don’t understand.” But Stiles still wasn’t pulling away. He was letting Derek pull his shirt over his head and taking the pair of sweatpants that was handed to him, unconsciously replacing his jeans with them. He already knew it was a lost battle, but Derek hadn’t used his greatest weapon yet.
He did then, placing a hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and one on his hip, and drew him close so that he could kiss him gently. A soft whine fell from Stiles’ throat as he set his hands on Derek’s bare chest, kissing him the same way: slow and open, like he wasn’t sure it wasn’t just a dream.
Derek broke it in favor of pushing Stiles back onto the bed and arranging them both under the covers until Stiles was laying with his back against Derek’s chest, their fingers laced against Stiles’ heart. “You don’t need one of the spare bedrooms,” Derek whispered in his ear, earning himself a shiver.
“Turns out my skills of seduction really are awesome.” Stiles’ voice was shaky, but Derek could hear the grin in it without looking at his face. He pressed his nose to the nape of Stiles’ neck and smiled, until they both drifted to sleep with the sunlight playing across their skin through the window.