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“What’s that?”
Stiles jerks upright at Derek’s voice, and quickly shoves the notebook he’s been flipping through under his leg. Derek is smirking, and Stiles knows fine well that his attempt at looking innocent and oblivious is about as successful as his attempt to hide the very thing that Derek is asking about.
“Nothing,” Stiles says, his fingers on the spine of the notebook. “It’s nothing… not important.”
“Then why are you hiding it?” Derek asks with a raised eyebrow.
He has a point, but Stiles isn’t willing to admit defeat, nor give up what’s written on the pages. It’s not like he’s hiding anything dangerous, or betraying Derek in any way, but he likes to keep his dignity intact, thank you very much. Or at least not shattered any further, what with werewolf hearing and senses obliterating a lot of it over the years.
“I just... it’s private,” Stiles blurts, and he feels his cheeks heating up with a blush.
“Oh,” Derek deflates with the one word, and the smirk disappears from his face as quickly as it showed up. “Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought… I don’t know what I thought,” he says, and then he shrugs and turns to leave.
It’s more words than Derek has said in one go to Stiles, ever, and Stiles is caught off guard. Over the years, Derek has started to vocalize his thoughts more, but he’s still quiet, especially compared to Stiles’ continued penchant for rambling.
“You’ve been spending too much time around me,” Stiles says. “You’ve even started rambling like I usually do when I’m nervous. Like now, see, I mean not that I’m nervous, because why would I be nervous or anything right now…”
“Stiles.”
“Yep, yeah, that’s me,” he says, and he suddenly feels like he’s sixteen years old again, and facing the guy who helped with the discovery of his bisexuality. And while Stiles isn’t a teenager anymore, Derek is the guy responsible for that particular awakening.
The thing is, Derek has that expression. One that Stiles saw before: it’s somewhere between resignation and disappointment, with a hint of pain. It hasn’t made an appearance in a long time, but it’s one that Stiles remembers all too vividly. Derek had it whenever Scott decided he knew what’s best for the pack, for the town, for everyone around him. He had it when Cora decided that she’s only ever coming back for short holidays, he had it when the Hale property got taken over by Beacon County and the old house ruins were demolished.
Once upon a time Stiles swore to himself that he would never be the cause of that particular expression, at least not if it was in his power to avoid it. He does have that power now, so he reaches for the spine of the notebook again, and pulls it out.
“It’s okay, Stiles,” Derek says. “I was just curious.”
“No, I want to…” Stiles starts, and then pauses to take a deep breath. “Come here,” he says, and pats the seat next to him.
“Sure?”
“Come here, before I chicken out,” Stiles says. “It’s nothing… well, it’s a me thing,” he adds while Derek is sitting down.
He wrote it over the New Year’s celebration a few days earlier, when everyone else started falling asleep on all available surfaces. There may have been alcohol involved, and a few dares that spurred his mind on earlier that night.
To Achieve This Year is written neatly on top of the first page of the notebook.
Stiles hands it over to Derek, hands shaking a little. There are several bullet points, some innocent enough -- keeping his Dad on a healthy diet, beating the latest CoD game -- but some others are more daring. There is one about getting his Dad and Melissa to admit that they’re dating -- Stiles knows they are, Scott does too, but they’re both still vehemently denying it -- and to start planning Scott’s bachelor party, though he hasn’t proposed to Kira.
But Stiles got braver as he kept adding to the list. What is making him nervous as Derek’s finger travels down the page are the last few entries, ones written when he started sobering up.
Find out how to change the Hale property back into Derek and Cora’s names.
Help Derek acquire construction permissions.
Talk Cora into a longer visit to Beacon Hills.
Make werewolf appropriate memorial site for the Hales.
Tell Derek.
The last entry isn’t finished. It’s the one goal Stiles gave himself that he didn’t have the guts to write down in full.
“Tell me what?” Derek asks after his finger lands on it.
They’re not looking at each other -- Stiles’ eyes are on Derek’s hand on the page, and Derek’s are focused on the paper -- but they don’t need to be. Stiles knows that Derek can hear the heartbeat pounding in Stiles’ chest, and he isn’t missing the way Derek’s hand is trembling.
“Stiles, these are... “ Derek starts saying, and then his hand moves.
Stiles follows the motion until the fingers dip out of sight, and then his chin is being turned. A beat later, he’s looking into Derek’s eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he can’t read the expression in Derek’s face.
“Why are your goals about me?” Derek asks the prize question.
A handful of lies crosses Stiles’ mind then, all possible ways to explain away why he wrote down all the things he did. He could blame it on alcohol, could say it’s about the rest of the pack too, he could even pretend it was just a joke, regardless of how serious the items on the list are.
“I want you to be happy,” he says instead, because that’s the truth, and he promised himself that he wouldn’t lie to Derek.
He still feels his heart racing, and his fingers grip the edge of the couch they’re sitting on. Silence has never been Stiles’ strong point, he always feels like he should fill it with words, but right now, there’s nothing he’s able to say. Derek is looking at him like he’s seeing Stiles for the first time, scans his face like he’s trying to figure out if Stiles is telling the truth, or if there’s a trick he should be wary of.
“I am,” Derek breaks the silence eventually. “I am happy,” he repeats, and smiles just before he leans in, and he kisses Stiles.
The notebook drops to the floor with a thud, and Stiles realizes that kissing back will tell Derek everything. So he does.