Chapter Text
Stiles realised suddenly, that finding his soulmate was just step one and no one really talked about what happened after that. The party had been amazing, and he had more alcohol in his system than he had originally planned. Since then, he hadn't had time to think about what was going to happen next. Deaton pulled Stiles aside that night and told him it was time to train harder now. So, the next morning he had Stiles crawling through the forest looking for specific vegetation, for obscure spells that Stiles would need to be able to perform.
He and Derek had traded phone numbers, “to keep it simple,” Derek had said, but Stiles didn't really know what that meant. He had just nodded and let the other man enter his number into his phone. It wasn't uncommon for soulmates to text one another, the ability to send long or private messages made most things easier. Sometime during the week, they had agreed to go on a real date together. Stiles had suggested a restaurant, but Derek had insisted on cooking something for them. Now Stiles was standing in his bedroom, trying desperately to make his shirt look less wrinkled, and hoping that he hadn't underdressed.
“You're over thinking it, Stiles,” Erica said, from her spot on the edge of his bed. “Derek is a simple creature, with simple wants and needs. You could show up dressed like one of the Backstreet Boys in the 90's, and he would still be happy to see you. The soulmate thing really takes the edge off.”
“Says you,” he mumbled, as he buttoned his shirt up. “I feel more nervous for this date, then any date I've ever been on.”
“That actually makes sense,” she answered. “Those other dates were pretty much practice for this one.”
“That really helps,” Stiles said, and turned around to face her. Erica snorted out a laugh and shook her head.
“Undo the over shirt, you look dumb,” she said. Stiles did as he was told, but felt like he hadn't put enough effort into this evening so far. “Derek can cook, is a nice guy, and likes stupid nerdy things. Just talk to him. You're good at that.” Stiles groaned but nodded his head. He looked in the mirror again and then sighed.
"Good enough," he mumbled. Erica took him by the arm and the two of them headed downstairs where Boyd, Lydia, Jackson, and Isaac were spread out in the living room.
“I thought you were going on a date,” Jackson said, looking him up and down. “Not just wearing what you always wear.” Stiles looked down at his outfit, hands out at his sides, and he groaned again. He had pulled on a pair of tight black jeans that he didn't often wear, so they weren't covered in magic and torn. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a plaid over-shirt but had hoped it would be fine.
“He looks fine,” Lydia said from her spot next to him. Stiles smiled a little at that, Lydia wouldn't let him leave if he looked like a mess. “Besides, Derek is his soulmate, they are stuck together,” she added.
“My parents split up even though they were soulmates,” Isaac said, frowning.
“And Melissa and douchenozzle,” Jackson said, but then added, “But Derek isn't an abusive asshole.”
“Come on guys, let's talk about the possibility of soulmates not connecting right now,” Stiles snapped and then ran his hand through his hair.
“If you keep doing that, you're going to make it look bad,” Lydia said.
“Just relax, Stiles, it will be fine,” Jackson said, but like Erica's attempt at comforting it fell flat. “Lydia and I turned out fine. And I'm an asshole,” Jackson said after a few seconds of silence.
“Yeah, but most people don't find their soulmates when they're in preschool,” Stiles answered, grabbing his jacket from the front cupboard. “You guys have always known. I still have to go impress this stranger.”
“He's nice,” Isaac said.
“I've been told,” Stiles answered, stepping into his shoes. “Are you guys leaving? Or is my dad coming home to find werewolves have eaten the contents of his fridge again?”
“Deputy Boyd was requested,” Erica said and Boyd nodded his agreement. The other three did get up, and for a moment, Stiles was mystified by the strange friendships had been made through the pack. Erica got up long enough to give Lydia and Isaac a hug and waved to Jackson who frowned when the hug was offered. Jackson paused and fluffed Stiles hair before he headed out the front door. The others followed, leaving Erica and Boyd to whatever it was they were going to do in Stiles' house.
“You'll do fine,” Isaac said, “just be open and honest with him. It's a really big deal that you're honest.” Stiles pulled a face at Isaac, then sighed, and nodded.
“Okay,” he mumbled, taking a few deep breaths. “It's gonna be great.” Stiles got into his Jeep, gave another quick wave, and drove off. He glanced at his phone and was glad that the address Derek had given him wasn't in the Hale Compound. He knew that the few houses that were built held multiple members of the pack, and he wasn't sure that he was ready to try and have a romantic dinner in the middle of that just yet.
He wasn't worried until he turned a corner and realised he was heading into the industrial district of Beacon Hills. Every other street light was burnt out, and most of the buildings were in total darkness. He kept driving until he found the street he wanted, and pulled up to a large old apartment building that was at the edge of the forest. He sat in his idling car for a moment, partly convinced that this was the wrong place, but when he scanned the parking lot, he saw Derek's car. He turned off his engine, unbuckled and the hopped out of the Jeep. He pocketed his keys as he glanced into the trees at the edge of the parking lot. He was pretty sure that if he walked from where he was now, in a straight line, he would hit the Hale Compound in a little over an hour. It would make getting to and from the apartment easy for Derek if that's how he travelled.
He took a deep breath of the cold car, standing in the parking lot, and the light of the moon. It made some of the tension in his shoulder relax, and after a moment, he headed to the building. There were two sets of doors, one that Stiles pulled open without worry, and then a second that looked like he needed to be buzzed through. There was an old intercom system set up on the wall, and Stiles wasn't totally surprised when nothing happened when h pressed the button for Derek's unmarked apartment. Derek had warned him, that the place was a bit of a mess, but Stiles really hadn't expected this. He tugged on the second door, and it opened without resistance. He walked into the lobby, reminded himself that everyone knew where he was and that he could easily take down a fully grown beta by himself if needed. Not that he was worried about Derek attack him, but who knows what lived in this place. He walked across the lobby, gave the stairs a quick glance, and then decided that by the time he reached the top floor he would be sweaty and gross. He reached out and pressed the large up arrow next to the elevator doors.
The elevator dinged a moment later, and after another few seconds of awkward waiting, Stiles realised that it was a freight elevator and he had to open the doors himself. He grabbed the metal gate and pulled it to the side, where it snagged half way along the tracks and refused to move anymore. He pushed his fingers through the metal doors, fought with it for a second, and then pushed them apart. The whole elevator shook as the doors opened, the metal slamming open, heralding his arrival. He stepped into the elevator, grabbed the strap that had appeared when the elevator door had disappeared into the roof, and yanked the doors closed again.
He hit the button marked PH, and silently told himself things would be fine, and he wasn't about to get stuck in an elevator all night. The elevator trembled to life, lurched, and then was moving upwards. Stiles stumbled back, his feet tangling in a mess of fabric that was bunched in the back of the elevator. He tried to move forward again, but before he could a hand shot out from the mess and grabbed his ankle. “Oh my god,” Stiles shouted. He yanked his foot away and stumbled toward the door. The fabric shifted around on the floor until an older man appeared from between the folds of clothing and blinked his too large cat-like eyes at Stiles.
“Sorry,” the man said, and then stretched his arms above his head. “You stepped on my hand.” He shuffled around a little, and Stiles realised the fabric was just the man's clothing.
“I... I'm sorry, I didn't know you were there,” Stiles answered. He was sure he must have looked terrified, but he tried to make himself look calmer. He was normally so aware of the things around him, and the fact that this person had been totally unknown to him until a second ago, terrified him.
“Where am I?” the man asked. He uncurled from the fabric, moving and shifting until he was standing.
“In an elevator,” Stiles answered.
“Ah, man, can you hit the 8th floor? My wife's gonna be mad,” he said. Stiles hit the button as fast as he could, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. The elevator lurched when it stopped, and Stiles waited for the man to open the door. Only to glance over at him and see that he had dozed off on his feet.
“Erm,” Stiles mumbled, and then pushed the man's arm. “Your floor,” he said, as the man jolted forward.
“Thanks,” the man said, as he yanked the doors open. He pulled the metal gate open and stepped onto the 8th floor. A single light blinked at the end of the hallway, and the man started toward it. Then he stopped turned around, grabbed the metal gate in his hand, leant in, and licked Stiles up to the side of the face. Stiles jumped backwards, and the man's lips curled into a large grin. “You smell so good, Spark.” Then he slammed the elevator gate and headed down to his apartment. Stiles watched the man open the door, a woman's voice start to shout, and then he yanked the elevator doors closed again.
Stiles barely moved again until the elevator reached the top floor, then he carefully opened the door, and made his way to the only door. It was large and metal, and for a moment he wasn't even sure it was a door at all. He banged against it a few times, and a second later it was pulled open. There was a moment where Stiles thought that he was going cry when it was actually Derek standing there in front of him. “Hey,” Derek said, sounding a little breathless.
“Hey,” Stiles echoed, but before anything else could be said the floor filled with buzzing. Derek looked at the elevator, and then shuffled passed Stiles.
“Sorry,” he said, as he yanked the doors closed. He turned back to Stiles and smiled. “The elevator won't go anywhere when it's left open. It's probably going to be the first thing I replace,” he said, and he let Stiles into his loft.
“Replace?” Stiles asked, stepping out of his shoes.
“The buildings mine,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck. Stiles watched as the tips of Derek's ears turned pink, and he suddenly refused to look at him.
“Oh,” Stiles said slowly. “Is the guy on 8th a friend then?”
“On 8th?” Derek asked, his eyes darting back to Stiles' face. Then Derek stepped closer, ran his fingers along Stiles check and frowned. “Did Eiji lick you?”
“Yes, yes he did,” Stiles answered. Derek laughed a little and shrugged his shoulders.
“I'm sorry, he's a weird guy. But he and his wife Takara came with the building,” Derek said. “There's an elderly woman on the main floor, Agatha. But, that's it for now.”
“Is the licking a normal thing?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head and waved for Stiles to follow him farther into the loft. There was a couch and television set up in the middle of the room, a table off to the side of the kitchen area, but nothing else. Derek pulled the door closed again, and then stepped past Stiles.
“He's never licked me,” Derek said, heading into the kitchen. “But werewolves and nekomata aren't known for getting along.”
“That's why I didn't realise he was there,” Stiles mumbled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Cats are even quieter than you wolves.”
“You know,” Derek said, as he pulled lasagna out of the oven. “There is a legend that says if a nekomata licks a lantern something strange is going to happen.”
“I'm not a lantern,” Stiles answered.
“No,” Derek said, turning to look at Stiles with a small smile on his lips. “But you're a spark.” Stiles felt a rush of warmth spread through him, and he felt his cheeks heat up from Derek's gaze.
“That's stupid,” was all Stiles, managed before Derek turned back to what he was doing.