Chapter Text
Stiles is walking through the busy streets of New York in a cold December night. His father has decided to visit his brother-in-law, Phil Coulson, and stay for the holidays. A little family bonding long overdued. It has been a long time since they actually have one that doesn’t involve skype.
Stiles shivers from the cold. The temperature is lot harsher than the last time he visited. But he doesn't mind because cold Yuletide air has always been his and his mother's favorite time of the year. Although it forces him to remember his mother, their happy times during Christmas can never be tarnished.
He pulls his coat closer, determined to find the best gift for his father and his uncle. But then, he catches a familiar flash of fiery blue. Stiles stops in his tracks. He hasn't seen it for months. Since the time he ignored it when he came searching for a dead body in the woods. But he can't be mistaken. It had to be.....
He looks back and there it is. A blue fire the size of his fist with arms and body but with no feet, waving at him. It’s a blue flame dancing in the wind. The Will-o’-the-Wisp. He comes closer to it until he is merely a feet way.
When Stiles was five, he got lost in the woods. No matter how hard he tries to remember, he could not find his way back. When he almost lost hope and was about to give up, a little burst of fire ignites a few feet away from him. When he was near it, it disappears but a trail of it shines through the woods. Stiles decided to follow it and soon he was stepping in his backyard and his mom and dad were hugging him. Ever since then, whenever he gets lost or there was a place he needed to be, these little blue fires would shine through and guide him homebound.
"Well hello there, little guy. Haven't seen you in while. Aren't you a little late too show up?" The wisp suddenly burns angry red and hisses at him. "Whoa!" Stiles jumps away from the angry fire. People move away from him and stares as if he is crazy. He may as well be. He is after all the only one seeing a floating fire in the middle of the street. "Cool down, dude. I know. My fault. I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry."
The wisp turns back to its lazy blue flame. Then its little arms start swaying to its left. Stiles looks where it is gesturing and sees the trail of Will-o’-the-Wisps.
"Do you want me to follow you?" It whistles as it nods. "Lead me home." Stiles says and the trail of wisps shines brighter like it always did.
Stiles follows the trail without any reluctance. He has a hundred and ten percent confidence that they will never lead him astray. They have always been there to guide him to where he is supposed to be.
But he has a feeling that something is different with this trail. He can't put a finger on it but he knows something is up.
"You're not leading me into a prank to punish me for not following you last time, are you?" Stiles asks. The wisps hisses like it was offended. May be it is. "Hey now, just checking." It sizzles like it can't believe how being stupid Stiles is right now.
So Stiles follows wisps after wisps. Then he arrives at an apartment complex somewhere in Brooklyn. BROOKLYN!!! How did he even walk that far? He only remembers walking through a thick fog and then here he is.
The trail continues inside the complex. Stiles goes inside and follows up to the third floor. He is led to an apartment at the end of the corridor. There is light coming through the door. The wisp is gesturing at the door.
"You want me to go inside?" Stiles asks. The wisp continues to gesture inside and then it vanishes. That is the final one so... he is where he has to be. Stiles knocks on the door. "Hello? Anybody in there?"
Nobody answers. He knocks again but still no answer comes back. May be the wisps has pranked him after all. But no, that isn't their way. There's something he needs to do here.
Stiles tries the door. It’s unlocked. Stiles takes a deep breath and opens the door. The apartment is clean and simple. Almost military like. The air is cold as if he is outside. Then he sees the open windows letting the cold air in. He looks around but nobody seems to be there.
He is about to leave when he hears it. A whimpering. Fearful and in agony. It comes from the sofa. Stiles immediately rushes there. What he sees made his heart clench painfully.
There is a man in late 20's curled up on his knees and hugging himself. He is pale as snow and shivering violently. Stiles could even hear his teeth rattling.
"Oh god..." Stiles gasps pitifully. He swiftly strips off his red hoody as he moves to the other side of the sofa to get a better access. He wraps the poor guy with his hoody and starts to shake him awake.
"Hey dude! Wake up!"
The man's eyes shot wide open. He gasps desperately and struggles to get up. Stiles puts a firm hand on the man’s chest to stop him.
"Hey man it's okay! It was just a dream but you're awake now. It's okay." The panic look goes away but the shivering won't stop. Stiles touches his forehead. He doesn't feel cold. In fact he feels very warm, but not feverish. PTSD, Stiles surmises.
Stiles rushes to the open windows and closes it. He looks around and finds an old radiator. It looks like the one from his grandmother's house. Stiles turns it on. He goes back to the man.
He doesn't look like he can stand so Stiles pushes the sofa where the man is toward the radiator. Stiles removes his sweater and wraps them around the man's feet and legs.
Stiles checks the man. The teeth rattling has stopped and the shivering seems to drop a notch. Then he looks into the man's eyes. They are bright blue and are swirling with emotions like he can't understand why Stiles is there taking care of him. Yet he is thankful. There is so much vulnerability in those bright eyes.
Stiles rubs his hands and when they are warm he puts them on the man's cheeks. And he does it over and over. Color comes back to the man’s cheeks and the shivering had gone down into small tremors.
"Feeling better, dude?" Stiles asks softly.
The man took a deep breath. "Yes....Tha-thank you." the man rasps.
The man tries to sit down but his arms were shaky and he almost falls down. Stiles catches him and helps him sat up. The man pulls Stiles jacket tighter around him.
"May be I should get you something bigger than my jacket. May be a blanket?"
"No need. It's okay. You've done more than enough." the man says.
Stiles looks at the man worriedly. "Are you sure? I could get you a hot coffee. Or warm coco."
The man shakes his head but there is a smile playing at his lips. “I’m fine. I just need to feel warmer.” The man looked up at him, his bright blue eyes is tired but they were bright and grateful. “Thank you.”
“Uhm you’re welcome. Oh yah… I’m Stiles by the way.” Stiles offers his hands. The man stares at him and slowly he smiles. He shakes his hand and says, “Steve.”
“Are you sure I can’t do anything else?” Stiles asks
“No.” The man answers curtly.
Stiles surveys the Steve’s face.
“You know… talking about it helps.” Stiles suggests.
“I know…” Steve said tersely. He instantly cave in himself.
“I’m not telling you to tell it now or to me. I just … in your own time… when your feel ready to talk about it. It’s your choice. But when you did get it off your chest, it’ll get easier."
Steve nods, acknowledging his suggestion.
A wisp appears behind Steve gesturing to the door. Right then, his phone vibrates. His father was asking him where he was, if he'd be late for dinner. Stiles scowls at the text and glares at the wisp.
“Is something wrong?” Steve asks.
“I have to go. Is there anything I could do for you before I leave?”
“Oh… I'm okay now.” The man says softly, a tinge of sadness discordant in his voice. He gave Stiles a smile. It is small and hardly reaches his eyes. But there’s something in them that makes Stiles believe that Steve will be just fine.
Just then another wisp appears right in front of Steve. Stiles is flabbergasted. He has never experienced this event. Are the Fates giving him choices? A little bit of freedom for his life? If he chooses to leave, he’d be fine and somehow this stranger, Steve, will be too because he has helped him. And they can go on with their lives with a small memory that in the greatest of needs someone will be there to help. But then, they’ll go through their lives without knowing what might have happened should he stay.
Stiles smiles, silently thanking the wisps and also the Fates for giving him this choice. He makes a decision and the wisps fades away.
"Steve." Stiles calls the man’s attention. Steve looks at him expectantly. "Would you want some company? We can watch a movie or something." Stiles asked sincerely.
"I thought you have to go." Steve said.
"Yeah. But it's not a very urgent. I can stay if you want to. Whatcha say? Some Star Wars marathon with me?" Stiles putting on pouty hopeful face.
Steve smiles to himself as he shakes his head. "Okay."
"Okay!"
"But what's Star Wars?"
Stiles gasps. "You don't know star wars?"
"Never heard of-" Stiles holds up a hand.
Stiles shushes him. "This is unacceptable. We have to fix this immediately. Like right now." Stiles says as he rummages through his back pack. "Aha!" Stiles pulls out his tablet. His uncle gave it as an early Christmas gift. But his uncle promised to give him another on Christmas day. No, he's not a spoiled brat. No matter what his father says.
Stiles looks for the file. When he finds it, he scoots over and held the screen between them.
"So the thing is there's a galaxy far far away and it's in a middle of civil war. A tyrannical evil emperor is controlling and people started to rebel against him. They managed to stole the plan for its super weapon that can destroy planets and a princess was carrying it back to the rebels. But their ship got capture. In a desperate move, the princess let her droids escape with the plans in a blind hope that it’ll find its way to the rebels."
"Interesting." Steve said.
"Oh it is. Just you wait." Stiles says. Stiles plays the movie. Steve scoots closer to Stiles.
Steve is amazed. The effects. The high speed chase. The Force. Everything had enraptured him. He posed questions. A lot of them. Which got Stiles thinking if Steve lived under a rock or something. Who doesn’t know what a Jedi is? But Steve asked it out of genuine curiosity and Stiles was more than happy to answer it.
"I wonder if Luke and Leia got together." Steve mused
Stiles snorts. "Oh don't get so fixated on that."
"You know what happens next?"
"Of course. I have watched all the installments, including the Christmas holiday especial. Which is dreadful. And I should have heed the warning not to watch it."
"There's more?"
"Yeah, it's a trilogy."
Stiles insists they drink something warm. Steve agrees. They manage to make warm coco milk drink from Steve’s bare supplies.
"Can you tell me more about yourself?" Steve asked.
"My whole name is not actually Stiles. It's.... No one except my Mom can pronounce my name. So I stick with Stiles which is from my surname Stilinski."
"Try me."
"Are you serious?" Steve nods enthusiastically. Stiles types his name on his phone then shows it to Steve. "It's polish." Stiles helpfully supplies.
“Przemyslaw.” Steve speaks fluidly.
Stiles shivers upon hearing his name Steve manages to pronounce it right. Stiles
"What the.... How'd you manage???"
"I know a bit of Polish."
"Say it again." Stiles asks giddily.
The name rolls naturally on Steve's tongue. “DUDE!!!” Stiles feels something he can’t explain. He reaches out to Steve and hugs and shakes him. “Dude, you did not murder my name. I’m so keeping you forever.” Stiles feels Steve’s hands comes up for a loose hug. He swiftly pulls away. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what came over me."
"It's okay." Steve blushes. "I don't mind."
Stiles yawns. Stiles looked at his watch. 12:30 am.
"Oh god. Dad is so going to kill me. I have to really go now." Stiles says as he bolts to the sofa for his backpack and tablet.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you so late." Steve walks him to the door.
Stiles smiles at him. "Shut it. I had a good time. We should do this again. Tomorrow. Same time?"
"I'd love to." Steve agrees.
Stiles pulls Steve in one arm hug and pulls quickly. He keeps a hand on Steve’s shoulders. "Don't let your nightmares keep you from dreaming." He pats his shoulder and let his arm fall down. Steve nods. "See you, Steve."
"See you, Stiles."
He opens the door and walks out of the apartment.
A wisp appears in front of him, Stiles smiles brightly at it. "Take me home."
Stiles was looking for gifts when he sees this brown leather jacket. Steve has this vintage aura around, like a 1940's sensibility Stiles can only see in old black and white films. It's in the way he speaks formally, old words and senile lines. Some phrases and exclamations his grandparents usually use and can be considered archaic and extinct. The way he moves, there is something regal about him. Steve is classic. The jacket will fit him perfectly. He enters the store and buys it.
The past few days has been one of the best times in his life. And Steve is just… he can’t describe it. But everything about him interests Stiles. His taste for really old music. His fascination with technology as if it is the first time he has ever seen it. His fashion sense. His pants are so Nineteen Forties. Don’t get him started on the way he speaks. That is a whole new bullet point. And his sensibilities is a whole new topic. He can build a power point on them.
A guy like him shouldn’t exist. Not in this millennium any way. And definitely in his age.
Stiles theorized Steve is raised in a very isolated place with a bunch of really old people. He can’t confirm it. He’s not that rude to ask.
But Steve is nothing short of brave. He’s cautious of the things he doesn’t know and mindful of the things he’ll say. In spite of that, he tries new things that Stiles offers him. Steve accepted Stiles offer to play in the arcade and go carting. Stiles can’t forget how Steve managed to ring the bell in the High Striker game and the puck got stuck on the bell. Stiles has seen Steve defended a woman from her abusive husband. He even chased a robber for fuck’s sake. To boot it far far further, he helped a grandma cross the street.
One time they walked through the Brooklyn bridge to get to Manhattan while they ate their burritos that Stiles had bought for Steve. Steve liked the burrito and they both laugh at how much mess they both made while eating it.
Also, Stiles can’t curse in front of Steve. Stiles cursed one time in front of him and Steve has given him a piece of his mind on why not to cuss. He had never felt more regretful in his entire life. Plus, Steve said please and he can’t not say yes. Still, he has a wide range vocabulary of not so polite words he can use until Steve bans every one of them. Steve already banned 8 of them.
Stiles finds out that Steve is a really good artist. (He may or may not had gone through his stuff without his permission.) His drawings are excellent so he took him in an art gallery in New York. And somehow they Steve got a job at the end of their visit. He’ll be the assistant of the curator.
It’s been good. Really really good times, if Stiles say so himself and if must admit, he doesn’t want it to end.
On the afternoon of Christmas, Stiles goes to Brooklyn like he a normal person do. He travels via train because today the wisps don’t want him to give a piggy back ride through their mystical travelling ways. They’re fickle. He’s used to it. It is a good thing he has an almost idyllic memory and he remembers the streets and the building’s name.
"Merry Christmas!" Stiles cheers as he reveals the gift he had been hiding behind his back and almost shoves it right on Steve's face.
"Oh Stiles. I didn't know you were coming." Steve says. Steve smiles and took it. "Thank you." Steve frowns. "I'm sorry. I don't have anything to give you."
"It's okay. It's a surprise after all."
Stiles grabs Steve's hand and leads him to the sofa. He starts unpacking his backpack. He brings out his portable speakers and plays his Christmas playlist. Then he pulls out the foods he managed cook before he left and some left over from lunch.
"I hope you’re hungry." Stiles says opening the containers.
"Wow, this is so much." Steve claims.
"Well today is one of my dad's cheat day. So... He made sure to cook foods that's dripping with very bad cholesterol and sodium. Plus, my uncle got a very big and well stocked kitchen so..." Stiles shrugs and takes out his laptop. He turns it on. Stiles let Steve choose what movie he wants to watch.
“Is it alright that you are here instead with your Dad and Uncle?” Steve asks as the movie starts.
“Yeah. We’ll be celebrating at 7. Plus, I thought, it’s Christmas. No one should celebrate it alone.”
Stiles smiles shyly at Steve. Steve stares back at him and smiles back at him.
They eat while watching ‘How The Grinch Stole Christmas’. Stiles makes himself comfortable by leaning on Steve’s side. Steve loops his arms around Stiles shoulders and let the younger man rest his head on his shoulders. It almost caught Stiles by surprise but he is far too comfortable to be startled by the move. He just let himself sink in Steve’s warmth.
After the movie ends, Steve decides to open his gift. When he sees the brown leather jacket, he smiles at Stiles.
"Do you like it? It's kind of an old style but I have a feeling it’ll suit you." Stiles said as Steve brush his finger on the supple material.
“Yes… Very much… Thank you.” Steve says and hugs Stiles.
“Try it.” Stiles encourages.
Steve shrugs the jacket on. He expectantly looks up at Stiles. Stiles catches his breath. Steve looks regal like one of those vintage portraits of men in the 40’s. Steve starts to lose his bright glow into a frown.
“Do I look… bad?” Steve asked.
“No! You look really amazing actually. The jacket suits you really good. It’s just you look…” Steve waits expectantly. “…classic.”
“Classic?” Steve asked curious.
“You have this… I don’t know… aura or something. Like you’re this handsome protagonist who stepped out of a vintage movie. Everything about you is regal.” Stiles stops at what he just said.
Steve flushes and looks away. “Uhmm Thanks.”
Stiles clears his throat and prepared to ask something he had been thinking since this morning. “Steve, can I have your number later? I don't think I'd be able to come here as often as I can.”
“Oh. Sure.” Steve answered. Stile noticed how Steve suddenly loses his spark and looks gloomy.
“I know. It sucks. We won’t be able to see each other every day.” Stiles touches Steve’s arms and makes Steve face him. Steve moves but he won’t meet his eyes. “The past days had been a blast. In fact, it’s one of my bests. And I don’t want it to end.” Stiles doesn’t know where all this honesty is coming from. But he’s on a roll and he just want Steve to know. “Somehow the Fates wants me to meet you. They lead me straight to you. I- I’m not aware of their reason. I don’t know why. The only thing I’m sure of is I don’t want it to end.”
Steve shifts till his whole body faces Stiles and finally Steve meets Stiles’ eyes. “I’ve been in a very dark place. I don’t know what to do with my life.” Steve touches the hand touching his arm. “But then you are suddenly there and before I know it, I’m smiling and laughing and I’m having the time of my life. You gave my life direction. I didn’t even know how bright my life had become until you told me you’re leaving.”
Steve took a deep breath and smiles. “You chased the darkness away. And I don’t know how to thank you except offer you my friendship and be there whenever you need me. I guess you’re stuck with me now, pal.” Steve smiles.
Stiles grins widely and pulled Steve into a Stilinski hug as what the younger man likes to call it. Steve had gotten to this tight and warm hugs that Stiles gives unexpectedly. At first, he had been startled. But he soon realized Stiles is a tactile person. Little by little, he had gotten used to his constant and close presence. And by now, it just feels natural. Steve melts into his arms and hugs him just as tight and warm.