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"You sure you don't want a ride?" Scott was astride his motorcycle, putting on his helmet as he readied to leave Stiles' house.
Stiles waved Scott off. "Nah, it's a nice evening and Derek will drive me home. Thanks, though."
"If you make it home, you mean," Scott replied with a grin. Stiles flipped him off with his own answering smile and started walking in the opposite direction that Scott took off in.
The Jeep was in the garage again and Stiles could hear the ching-ching of their cash register echoing in his head. Benny at the shop was starting to argue with Stiles when he brought it in now, saying it was coming time to give up the ghost on the old girl but Stiles insisted. Until it blew up with him in it he'd sink all the money he could into the Jeep to keep her running.
Stiles listened to music and Googled junkyards as he walked, trying to track down alternate parts for when they inevitably needed replacing. Benny mentioned it was getting harder for him to find bits and pieces he needed to keep Roscoe going.
He was distracted easily enough and the half hour it took to get to the loft passed before he realized it. He let himself into the building with the key Derek gave him "for emergencies" a couple years earlier, before they began dating. Now it was just a thing that felt as normal as walking into his own home.
Stiles took the stairs two at a time, now so used to climbing them in lieu of taking the old rickety elevator that he wasn't even winded when he reached the top. He didn't bother knocking, just pushed the door open and closed it easily behind himself.
As soon as Stiles got inside he stopped and looked around, sniffing delicately. Something felt weird.
The TV, a hard-fought battle between Stiles and Derek from a year earlier, was paused on something Stiles didn't recognize. He saw a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and a bottle of beer beside it, waiting.
But no Derek.
"Uh," Stiles uttered, confused by what he saw. Usually when he showed up Derek was reading or working out, sometimes on the phone with Cora at this time of the day or even cooking.
TV and popcorn? Relaxing? That was a new one.
Stiles heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see Derek descending wearing what looked like the most comfortable pair of sweats ever and —one of Stiles' own hoodies. Derek stopped halfway down the stairs when he saw Stiles and stared back at him guiltily.
"Stiles, I didn't hear the Jeep pull up," Derek said as he practically leapt the last five or so steps.
"It's in the shop so I walked," Stiles explained, watching Derek carefully because he seemed... edgy? Nervous? Stiles couldn't put his finger on it.
Derek made a beeline to the coffee table to grab the remote but Stiles called out, "Hey, don't I get a kiss?"
Derek seemed to jump minutely but smiled at Stiles, a small uptick of his lips that somehow still reached his eyes and was exclusively for him alone. He met Stiles in the middle of the floor and cupped his jaw with one hand as they kissed slowly, easily.
Derek was off guard for long enough for Stiles to reach his hand down and grab the remote from him, twisting away to aim at the TV and pressing 'play'. Derek groaned behind him but didn't make a move to grab it back.
The TV started playing and Stiles saw the title card for a show come up.
"Are... are you watching The Bachelor?" Stiles asked slowly.
"Yeah," Derek replied, sounding sheepish.
Stiles spun around to face Derek. "Do you think you have to hide this from me?"
Derek was turning a bit red and avoided Stiles' eyes. "It's stupid."
Stiles tossed the remote back to the couch before catching Derek's chin with one hand, making him look Stiles in the eyes. "Hey, nothing you like is ever stupid, okay? I'm kinda pissed that you've been trying to keep this secret while we could be cuddling on the couch with you in these fucking fantastic sweats," Stiles said while running his free hand down Derek's back and cupping one of his ass cheeks.
Derek did jump then and he let out a loud bark of laughter that echoed in the empty space. He grinned at Stiles, though, and tugged him in close.
"If you watch with me we could make it interesting," Derek rumbled against Stiles' cheek, sending tickles down his neck.
"Yeah?" Stiles asked, already getting aroused by how happy Derek was.
"We can bet on who gets sent home," Derek started. Stiles nodded and murmured his assent to continue. "Loser has to blow the other."
"I'd rather have your rosebud," Stiles replied with a smirk while Derek groaned at the pun.
He grabbed Derek's hand and made him walk ahead to the couch so he could watch Derek's ass in those glorious sweats. And if The Bachelor date nights became a thing, well. Stiles wasn't complaining.