Work Text:
Stiles sighed as he walked over to Derek’s bed. The right side was void of a pillow and apparently it doubled as a nightstand. There were two things placed on it and that only further underlined the lack of personality in the loft. The loft was so sparsely furnished and completely undecorated; it looked empty. It resembled a warehouse rather than an apartment. The walls were bare, as well as the concrete floor, and Stiles wondered if Derek really walked around in shoes all the time so he wouldn't get cold feet.
It was also pretty void of life. Erica and Boyd had chosen to set out into the world to see if they could find whatever they were looking for out there, Jackson had disappeared off to England with his parents after the whole Kanima ordeal and Isaac was currently staying with Scott. As much as the loft was a place to live in, it was not a home. Even Derek didn’t spend much time there and Stiles didn’t blame him. The only reason Stiles preferred the loft at times was because he needed some escape from his own bedroom, and some distance from his dad. When Derek and he had decided to start researching ahead of time so they would be ready for any upcoming threats, they had agreed to use the loft most of the time so they wouldn’t get caught.
Stiles kind of got what he wanted. He was spending more time with Derek. Nonetheless Derek was distanced, careful about what he revealed, face guarded and body language closed. No matter how many jokes Stiles tried to make, or the puns that just slipped out of him, Derek never laughed. He never acknowledged any of Stiles’ ideas about what he could do with the loft to make it nicer. He was the same old glaring, grumpy alpha. Stiles was almost starting to believe that maybe Derek was an exception to the rule and would never change.
As he grabbed the book Derek had requested ordered him to get, his gaze fell to the iPod next to it and he paused. Derek didn’t even have a laptop, Stiles always had to lug his own around so they could work with it. But he had an iPod apparently - which Stiles couldn’t even picture him using. What music would Derek even listen to? Stiles had asked on one occasion before but the only reaction he had gotten was a blank stare. Then Stiles had tried guessing the band posters Derek had had on his walls as a teen and the stare had returned to its usual glare.
It was hard to imagine Derek listening to music, although the alternative would be audio books and that was even less likely, so if Stiles had to take a pick he would say Derek listened to angry music that matched his angry eyebrows; the kind of dark, hardcore punk music that fit Derek’s physical appearance. He was stereotyping, and he was aware of that, but he just couldn't see Derek rocking out to Wannabe by the Spice Girls at all. The temptation was supernaturally strong, his fingers twitching in the desire to take and find out. The answers to this mystery were so very close. Stiles felt like all of Derek's secrets were right beneath his fingertips, like all he had to do was listen to the lyrics of his favorite songs to find the key to the angry, stiff code behind which Derek hid.
“Stiles,” Derek barked at him, obviously irritated about having to wait for so long.
“Oh my god. Come get it yourself if you're gonna be so impatient and ungrateful. Jeez,” Stiles huffed, nonetheless turning away and heading over. He raised his eyebrows at Derek and let the book slam down on the coffee table in front of him, keeping their gazes locked when they met.
“Now you say: ‘Thank you, Stiles. That was very nice of you.’ And I say, ‘You're welcome. It's always a pleasure to work with you. The greatest pleasure.’” Derek, as predicted, did not say anything remotely similar to that. Nonetheless Stiles wondered if he should consider it a success that Derek didn't say he was a nuisance either. Baby steps.
--
[ Derek / Stiles ]
Research tonight.
Hah, right
You know I have lacrosse after school and an essay I need to finish
Can't do this tonight
Also, dad’s home for dinner and I want to spend some time with him
Pages missing in warlock history.
Didn't you say we can't even be sure if that's an actual history book or if it's just myths and legends?
Yes.
So why is it so important?
An actual full sentence reply would be nice btw
It just is.
Dude… seriously?
Don't call me that. Seriously. Tonight.
I told you it's not gonna work, Derek
You can't just demand stuff and expect everyone to throw all their plans and do what you want
Derek?
Now you're not going to reply anymore?
Really? That's what we're doing?
Being childish?
You're such a sourwolf
---
It shouldn't have surprised Stiles so much, in retrospect, but when Stiles walked into his room after dinner to find Derek bent over his table, book and laptop open side by side, he did a double take.
“Oh my god, you've got to be kidding me,” Stiles exclaimed in a hushed tone before quickly closing the door. “My dad and I are having dinner right downstairs and you're just hanging out up here? With an open door. How did you even get in? Do you have any sense of privacy? You can’t just waltz in here like it belongs to you. I really think we need to talk about this-”
“The window was unlocked. If you're that upset just lock it,” Derek interrupted with a tone that wasn't impressed in the least. Stiles flailed with his arms and snorted, prompting Derek to raise an eyebrow.
“Seriously? What about emergencies then? I can’t just lock you out – any of you. What if you get hurt, or someone’s chasing you, or… anything,” Stiles said, faltering in the end and hoping that Derek wouldn’t catch the rise in his heartbeat. Derek was actually the only one to ever use the window as an entry, and honestly, Stiles didn’t even care that much. He was happy about every second he got to spend with the werewolf; as pathetic as that might sound. Happy to not be alone, happy to see Derek specifically.
“I’ll break the glass in an emergency,” Derek told him casually. “Besides, this wouldn’t be my first choice to go to in an emergency.”
Derek didn’t hold the stare to drive his point home but it stung enough to rob Stiles of any reply.
“Come on, now. We need to figure out if anything important is missing.” Stiles walked over to join Derek, plopping down in his chair with a sigh. Derek leaned down above his shoulder, bracing himself on the armrest. He was so close Stiles could feel the heat radiating off his arm and feel slightest waft of breath on his hear. The hairs on his neck stood on edge, something strong and red coiling in his chest. He knew Derek could hear his heartbeat, which was knocking hard against his ribcage. Thankfully he wasn't a stranger to controlling his emotions when it came down to it, because otherwise his attraction to Derek's everything would've been painfully obvious.
“I expect a thank you card one day, at the very least. With chocolates and flowers. And a long text about all the things I’ve sacrificed for you, and the pack,” he grumbled.
“How are we even going to find anything about this book online?”
“Don’t ask me. You’re the… internet genius.”
“Internet genius. That’s witty.”
“Shut up. Just… do your thing.”
“Alright. Alright, I’m doing my thing. The infamous Stiles thing. I'm going to Stiles the hell out of this thing.”
“Please, shut up.”
“Oh, look at that. Sourwolf’s got manners after all.”
---
Stiles rubbed his face as he looked at the clock. 1:37am. Groaning, he realized he was going to be a wreck in the morning. He hadn’t even finished all of his homework yet and he was going to have to get up at 6.
“How…” His question trailed off as he spotted a sleeping Derek in his other chair. He was slouched with his head drooped on his chest, his hands still gripping the book. It had been a surprise to see Derek take off his jacket but this was completely surreal and Stiles had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Derek still looked cute- he looked extremely cute actually, now that he was relaxed, not wearing his usual scowl. He looked younger, as if he was actually only 21, which was hard to believe but his file had said.
It was very tempting to give in to sleep as well. But all the supernatural occurrences last year taught him to always get as much school work done as possible so he could at least keep his grade up even if he skipped a few days and didn’t pay attention in class. He had to finish this tonight.
His gaze was stuck on Derek though, and how domestic and cozy he looked compared to usual. Not that that looked very cozy yet. A blanket and pillow and something soft to lie down on would probably be more comfortable. Stiles bit his lip as he considered offering Derek the bed while he worked. It couldn’t hurt, right? Before he could drive himself crazy with the possibility, he got up to get the spare things. Dumping them on the bed, he padded over to the sleeping werewolf only to hesitate. It was weird to see him so unguarded, not reacting to him coming so close.
“Derek?” he asked quietly, not really sure why he was so nervous. Derek’s head bobbed and Stiles almost stepped back. Derek sniffled as he readjusted his grip on the book – but he didn’t wake. Again, Stiles considered letting it be. Just reaching out to touch him didn’t feel right, after seeing the way he had reacted to physical contact before. Stiles figured Derek would thank him later when he got a proper night’s rest though. So he placed his hand on his arm gently.
“Der?”
Derek’s eyes flutter open and he blinked a few times, seeming to gather his surroundings before he shot to his feet, forcing Stiles to take a step back.
“What?” Derek demanded, looking around. “What… did I fall asleep?” he asked, turning to Stiles with a lost expression on his face. He ran a hand through his hair, blinking unsurely.
“Yeah, uh… yeah. I was just, I wanted to ask if you want to sleep on the bed,” he replied. “I mean, that didn’t look like it was comfortable and I still have to do some schoolwork so – I got a fresh pillow for you and a blanket because I don’t know if the scent bothers you or not… and yeah.” Stiles watched him look over to the bed, then back to the chair, the confusion on his face not lessening.
“No, I can’t,” he said eventually.
“Dad’s asleep. He won’t come up here until morning and you’re obviously exhausted. It’s really no problem.”
“No. No, I mean… I can’t sleep without my music. I’m gonna go.” Without a further word or look at Stiles, he fled out the window. Stiles didn’t even have the time to remind Derek to take his jacket. He couldn’t believe Derek had forgotten the prized leather jacket. He also didn't get what Derek meant about not being able to sleep without his music when he'd just been asleep here a minute ago. And who even fell asleep to screamo music anyway?
The loneliness of the empty room came over him suddenly. Although they hadn’t talked in the past hour or so – except for Stiles muttering stuff out loud – it had still felt different than the silence now. The room felt too big for just himself.
He eyed the jacket hanging over the vacant chair. It might have been a stupid idea but he blamed the exhaustion for it, as he went over and sat down to pull the jacket around his shoulders. Naturally, it was far too wide and loose but that didn't lessen the comfort it brought him. Stiles wasn't a werewolf but at this point Derek's scent was so deeply seated in the leather that even Stiles could sense it beside the lingering faint scent of leather, and he buried his nose in it, wishing - not for the first time - that he were a werewolf. Then the smell wouldn't seem so faint, and Derek so distant.
A part of him worried Derek could just come bursting back in to look for his jacket. Super hearing would be really great right now so Stiles could save himself before he was found like this and killed. He threw a wary glance at the window that Derek hadn't even bothered to close after himself - rude - and allowed himself to relax into the warm jacket when nothing happened. He stuck his hands into the pockets as he settled in, only to come across something in the right one. The Ipod.
With his fingers wrapped around it already, he couldn't resist pulling it out to look at it. Scratches ran along its sides and back but the screen was mostly whole; surprising for something that belonged to a werewolf. Did any of the marks come from claws?
Stiles didn't mean to look through it. He didn't want to be as typically nosy and intrusive as Derek thought he was. All he did was press the power button just to see if it was on. Which it turned out to be. Suddenly he was staring at a playlist full of song titles he didn't recognize. He scrolled to see if he could find a single song he knew, figuring that if Derek did listen to heavy music, he'd at least have the one or other Linkin Park song on there. Either way, people usually needed variety. But no. There didn't even seem to be any band names, only solo artists. None of which Stiles had ever heard of before.
Stiles’ fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating to tap play. Was it actually an invasion of privacy if he just listened to a few songs? It's not like he was listening in to Derek's personal recordings or anything - he wasn't even going to check if he had made any. Any of this music was publicly available after all. He bit his lip.
It would be a lie to say that he didn't remember popping in the earphones and clicking play. However, Stiles did not know how he would justify doing it. It just happened.
He couldn't have been more wrong about Derek's taste in music. There was nothing angry about the notes that rang through his head. It was a piano instrumental that was so sorrowful Stiles had to blink back tears as the emotions rose in him suddenly. Nonetheless it was mesmerizing, in a way hypnotic, making Stiles feel guilty as he skipped to the next song. He was met with another instrumental, different but all too similar in its atmosphere. No matter what title he chose he was met with a sombre piano song.
His gut tightened with the memory of when he had teased Derek about his favorite song probably being Lonely by Akon. It was easy to forget sometimes that anger always stemmed from some kind of pain when Derek put up his tough front and didn’t let anyone through. Music was said to be the language of the soul, and the depth of Derek's sadness rang all too clear in his ears.
Stiles sat and listened for a while, still hoping to come across a single song that wasn't melancholic, until his heart could bear no more and he returned the iPod to the pocket. Derek deserved more than this. Getting him out of the abandoned train station and into the loft had been a feat in itself and Stiles had kind of given up after that but his resolve to change Derek's world had strengthened again. (And if he won over Derek's heart in the process he surely wasn’t going to complain.) Stiles left the jacket where Derek had draped it over the chair when he seated himself back in front of the laptop.
In the morning he woke to it gone and he saw Derek wearing it later the next day. If Derek's werewolf senses had given away anything about Stiles’ actions, Derek didn’t mention it.
---
Step one to making Derek happier was making sure he wasn't lonely. Stiles started dropping by randomly, whenever he was on his own and without plans, any time he caught himself wondering what Derek was up to - which was quite often. Derek greeted him with confusion for a full two and a half weeks when Stiles declared he was just visiting. Conversation was difficult in the beginning so they turned to research to save them from awkward silence. But Stiles didn't let that deter him. He talked about school and lacrosse practice, as well as video games and comic books. He told Derek about the movies and shows he watched and how long it took him to make spaghetti bolognese the other day because he had to throw away a full pot of sauce away when he failed to salvage it.
Eventually Derek dropped the pretense of research and turned to Stiles with crossed arms. Stiles thought it looked like his head was slightly tilted, like a curious dog’s.
“What are you doing?” Derek said, using that tone of voice that sounded more like a demand than a question. Stiles blinked at him innocently.
“I’m talking to you, duh. Don’t tell me you weren’t listening to me the whole time. That would be very rude of you.”
“You barging in here uninvited is also rude,” Derek pointed out, and Stiles bit his lip as his insecurity rose up. What if he really was nothing but a pure annoyance to Derek? The man had never thrown him out, which Stiles was sure he would’ve easily done if he had been upset about his presence. Derek had never been one for forced politeness.
Then again, he was pointing it out now. He’d probably reached the limit.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t be invading your privacy. I should start studying anyway. Never too early to start working on finals. This is me getting out of your perfect raven-black hair. You know it actually looks better without a bucket of gel in it by the way. Makes you more approachable.” Stiles glanced back at Derek after he slung his backpack over his shoulder and picked up his hoodie from the end of the couch. He waited for a moment because there was that look on Derek’s face, as if he was still figuring out what to say. But all that came was a tightening of the jaw and a small nod.
---
[ Derek / Stiles ]
Seriously, Stiles?
What?
You know what.
Use your words, sourwolf
I can’t read your mind all the time.
[image attached: a pair of fluffy white bunny slippers]
Those are called slippers
They go on your feet and keep them warm
Thought you could use them since you refuse to get a carpet
They’re comfy I used to have my own, just in yoda form
I’m not wearing them.
Don’t be like that
You can wear bunny slippers and still be a big badass alpha werewolf
You won’t lose any credit
I’m not going to wear them.
Well, that’s your decision to make
I knew the odds I was facing when I bought them
Just keep the poor lil bunnies locked in the closet
It’s not my conscience that will be buried with guilt
Ever the drama queen. They’re just slippers.
They’re bunnies, Derek
With cute little bunny teeth
They have feelings too
They make act tough but everyone has a soft core
Especially those with the cute little bunny teeth
I am very knowledgeable
Trust me
Mention bunny teeth again and I’ll use them to rip out your throat.
You’ve used that threat before
Didn’t work the first time around either
I don’t know why you keep trying
You did what I said, didn’t you?
Yeah, but not because you threatened me
Do you really think I would’ve left you out on the street to die?
Well that’s what you kept saying. What else am I supposed to believe?
You know me better than that, you ass
I wouldn’t even leave Jackson out to die as terrible as I think he is
I definitely wouldn’t let anything happen to you if I could help it
So you like me more than Jackson?
Inever said that
No need to feel smug
You’re fond of me. Admit it.
Shut up
Stealing my lines now, are we?
I don’t have time for this
I have to go study
See ya
--
The tremor in Stiles’ hands made the envelope shake before his eyes. The paper was crisp and clear. He’d wasted five of them at home before he had decided that not writing anything was probably the best idea. Now he wasn’t so sure anymore; about any of this. Derek seemed to do that; put him at loss of words, either shut down his brain or make it spin too fast. He hadn’t dared to text him again after the last time, where he’d been quite tempted to confess exactly how much he cared about Derek. It was way too early for that.
Which was why he was standing here with two movie tickets in hand, too stubborn to give up on his plan but too scared to face Derek. He hadn’t asked if Thursday night worked for him, and he couldn’t be sure Derek liked sci-fi.
Deep breaths. You can do this.
It was just a movie night together. As Friends. Not a date. He had no reason to be this nervous. He used to do this with Scott all the time. A casual movie night with a good friend. It was all fine. It was all good. Stiles just had to crouch down and slip the envelope beneath the door and then he’d wait for Derek to come back-
“Stiles.”
Fuck.
“Heyyyyy, Derek,” Stiles chuckled, still frozen in a crouch now in the open doorway, at Derek’s feet. “Didn’t know you were home. I thought… thought you were out for a run.”
“And what were you planning on doing down there while I was gone?”
“I uh… I was just um,” Stiles swallowed thickly. “You see…” He picked the envelope up off the floor again to turn it between his fingers.
“Is that for me? Are you going through my mail now?” Derek held a hand out expectantly. Stiles’ heart rate seemed to double from one second to the next. He let out a laugh as he stood and bit his lip. His hands still felt shaky and he fumbled with the envelope for another moment before he surrendered it.
“Um, yes. I mean, no. I am not going through your mail. I don’t even ever see you get any mail. Do you get mail? You probably do, and now I do want to go through said mail but uh, this is- Is there a possibility you could wait before you open that?” Words were leaving Stiles’ mouth faster than he could think.
Derek had already opened the envelope up though, while staring straight at Stiles with his infamous raised eyebrows. Stiles averted his gaze when Derek started pulling the ticket stubs out. Derek dropped the hint of a smirk when he realized what he was looking at. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
It was cute. For once Stiles managed to hold his tongue.
Derek schooled his expression before he spoke. “Rogue One. For Two. This Thursday. At the Beacon Hills Movie Theater… You got us movie tickets.”
“Yeah,” Stiles exhaled, bobbing his head up and down. “That I did.” His voice croaked as if he had a frog stuck in his throat. He didn’t even want to know how red his cheeks might be. God, he was making this weird. “I did. I got us movie tickets because- because Scott still hasn't seen Star Wars so his best bro certificate has been revoked and you, good sir, made that amused huffing sound that you make when you try to hide how big of a nerd you are and how much you actually like fun, when I made that pun a few weeks back. And going to the movies alone is really not something I like to do because I'll end up talking to myself and everyone will think I'm crazy and that's not fun for anyone. So. It’s on you to fill the best bro shoes, whose duty it is to go to the movies with this bro to watch a Star Wars movie and nerd out together. As bros do.”
“Say ‘bro’ one more time and I'm going to shove these in your mouth,” Derek muttered, giving Stiles an exasperated look. But at least that amused twinkle was back in his eyes and there was no uncomfortable silence between them anymore. The envelope rustled as Derek tucked the tickets back in and folded the flap inside neatly.
“You can't fool me with that ‘too cool for school’ attitude of yours,” Stiles circled a finger at him, hoping to distract Derek from his still racing heart as he grinned at him, “I know you’re excited. Everyone loves the movies. When was the last time you’ve been anyway? And yeah, I know it’s stupid to assume you’d agree to go to the movies with me but I do really want to see this and as much as I love treating you to stuff, I don’t have that kind of money to support you and a date.”
“A date,” Derek repeated surprised. “Are you-”
“No! No, no, no, I just-” Stiles laughed dryly. “I meant like…” Derek watched his tongue flick across his lip and waited. “I’m not self-centered enough to believe I’m the only friend- guy- person in your life. You might have someone else you’d rather go with.”
“Stiles,” Derek started slowly, taking enough time to assure himself Stiles was being serious. “You see me most days of the week. Have you seen or heard of anyone else who hangs around?”
“To be fair, you could march out right now, find the most beautiful girl out there and you’d have a date.” Stiles shrugged.
“I’m not going to go around picking people off the streets to go to the movies with, or for anything else for that matter,” Derek told him pointedly. He left the door open as he turned and walked back into the loft. Left at the door, Stiles swayed on his feet for a moment before he stepped in. He watched Derek prop the envelope up against the vase on the coffee table.
“So, uh… I’ll take that as a yes then? For Thursday?” Stiles asked, clasping his hands together before he ended up getting too touchy feely with everything and leaving his scent all over the place. He was sure Derek wouldn’t appreciate that.
“As long as we take the Camaro.” Derek said offhandedly as he walked into the kitchen, simply built in into one corner of the loft.
“If you have something against Roscoe, go ahead and say it out loud, straight to my face.”
“We are not having that discussion again.”
“I will stand for my baby, Derek. I trust that jeep with my life and Roscoe has always been there for me. Just as for you. Need I remind you of-“
“Root beer?” Derek came back out with a can of said drink in one hand and a lemonade for himself in the other. As Stiles reached for it, Derek pulled his hand back. “One condition: no more talking about cars whatsoever.”
“If you think you can get away with such disrespect of my beloved baby, you’re wrong. We’re picking this up later,” Stiles warned, eyeing Derek’s victorious smile. He caught the can as Derek tossed it and they made their way to settle on the couch.
“Right.”
---
Stiles didn’t know why he always got so anxious around Derek. They worked pretty well together. Even outside of life-threatening supernatural business. Going to the movies together was probably the best idea he’d had yet. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he had had so much fun. He certainly had never heard Derek talk so much in one day. There was a whole new side to Derek that he got to know that night, full of geeky facts and headcanons that racked Stiles’ brain, made his soul soar and warmed his heart.
They were sat in a parking lot eating burgers and curly fries with only a few minutes left till minute and Stiles can’t think of a single thing that could have gone better than it had. He hadn’t even had to pay for his own popcorn or late dinner. Derek had covered that.
He was falling harder for him with every passing second and it made his chest ache. Hopefully, that was a thing werewolves couldn’t pick up with their super-senses.
The car grew silent as they both turned to their food and fell into thought. It was quite dark, the only light a street lamp standing a few feet off and Stiles was running out of places to look without staring over at Derek all creepily. Every now and then a car would pass down the street in front of them and it would light up the area. It wasn’t Stiles’ fault that Derek’s face was the most interesting thing to look at even when most of it was shadowed.
Not that it was prettier per se; Stiles still preferred the way the afternoon sunlight falling through the hazy loft window would soften up Derek’s features. it rounded out his cheeks and made Derek’s skin glow golden, and not look so terribly ashen and pale. It brought out the green and hazel in his eyes, which now just seemed to be dark gray. The light did also make it all too clear how much Derek held back and how careful he was about showing certain emotions. Derek was expressive but only to a certain extent.
Tonight they had spent most of the time in the dark. Stiles wondered if that helped Derek loosen up enough to actually reach over and steal some of his curly fries and then grin at him wolfishly. He wished he could see that expression in all its glory.
“Hey, uh… you know the other week,” Derek spoke up a while after the silence had settled. Stiles turned to him curiously, taking the invitation to let his eyes roam. Derek didn’t look back at him but was staring at the dashboard instead. “The time where I said how it was rude that you were barging in uninvited all the time?”
“Oh. Yeah, I remember. Why?”
“Well… I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You did have a point though. I was intruding on your privacy without permission and hell, you put up with it for a whole while because I failed to think about how uncomf-“
“Stiles.” He sounded slightly agitated.
“Why do you like to interrupt me all the time like that? I do understand that I talk a lot but you could at least let me make my point.”
“Just… listen, okay? I’m trying to tell you that,” Derek paused to take a breath before continuing, “I don’t mind. When you come and go. Or stay for a while… It’s nice.”
Stiles could barely believe what he was hearing. He had to clamp down on the overwhelming urge to preen but his limbs tingled lightly in warmth as his stomach flipped, and there was no stopping a smile from stretching onto his face.
“Yeah?” He asked, surprised to find he felt a little breathless. Derek’s eyes flickered over for a second before he dipped his head again.
“It can get a little lonely sometimes.” Derek had to tear the quiet confession from the back of his throat, swallowing hard to bear down on the rise of emotion that came with it. This was already more than he had ever dared to admit to himself alone. The thing that stopped him from panicking and hightailing it out of there wasn’t even the fact that he would be leaving his car behind. What kept him put was the way Stiles’ heartbeat sped up alongside his own and the sheer happiness the boy emitted it. The bright scent filled the entire car in a split second. It was one of Stiles’ most prominent traits. He had such a strong presence; had so much energy and so much passion; he just was so much… Stiles had enough life in him to come rolling in like a storm and take over. He filled so much space all on his own and was loud enough to shatter the dead silence in Derek’s life. It was mind blowing that someone like that went out of his way to spend time with someone like himself.
“Luckily for you that’s what friends are for. My window is also always unlocked; phone is always on. Don’t be a stranger. You’ve got this whole ‘lone wolf’ thing down to a tee but we both know that wolves aren’t loners.”
It wasn’t particularly hard to look. Derek might be immune to alcohol but sometimes he felt like he could drown in the depth of Stiles’ whiskey brown eyes; like all it took was look at him long enough to make Derek give in and let it all out. Stiles woke things in him that he had thought had died long ago. It was terrifying on one hand, but on the other he knew that Stiles would be right there along for the ride with the same reassuring smile.
Derek nodded.
---
It was almost 1 am by the time Stiles was sliding into bed. There was no way he was falling asleep soon though. Not after such a successful night with Derek. Every smile and laugh replayed in his inner eye over and over and he just couldn’t stop smiling. Derek had basically said that he liked having Stiles around. It wasn’t often he was needed.
His phone vibrated from beside him and the screen lit up with a Sourwolf.
You would be the one I go to in emergencies
But only as long as that wouldn’t put you in danger
Of course you’d want all the action for yourself
Shame on you for thinking I can’t protect myself
I am more than capable of being badass just like a werewolf, thank you very much
I know you are
Most badass human I know
But you still need to get enough rest. Goodnight, Stiles
Night, Der
---
[ Derek / Stiles ]
You have got to stop doing this
What did I do?
Buying me stuff for no reason. I thought you were a poor high school student
Hey, I can do whatever I want with my allowance
As long as I have the jeep running I'm good
Besides you always pay for all the movies and food now so it's only fair
(I'm not going to bring up the ridiculously expensive birthday presents you got me because I promised I wouldn't anymore so consider yourself lucky)
It just made me think of you That's all
It's a Christmas sweater
It’s not Christmas
Everyone should have a Christmas sweater
It's blue and has wolves on it
It's perfect
I don't even wear sweaters
Probably because you don't have any
It's fluffy and soft and warm
Like the slippers
I know you wear them when no one's looking
Werewolves get cold too
You know too much for your own good
It’s part of the Stilinski charm
Can’t deceive a Stilinski
Which is not so great when you’re trying to keep something from your father who is the sheriff
What are you trying to keep from him?
Uh, nothing
You know besides oh I don’t know werewolves maybe?
And all those wonderful kinds of things
You should tell him
What?
Really?
You’re not afraid he’s going march over with a gun in hand or something?
I figure you’d do everything in your power to stop him
Even something stupid like jump in front of the bullet
Only because that’s the best plan ever
My dad will never shoot if there’s a chance I’m going to get hurt
If I act as your shield then there’s nothing left to worry about
Let’s hope it doesn’t get that far
I don’t know how I would tell him though
He probably wouldn’t believe me anyway
I don’t know
Maybe I’ll figure something out
I’d offer to demonstrate but last time your father saw me was under arrest for murder
Thanks to a certain someone
Jeez let it go already
That was ages ago
But yeah I’ll let you know how things go
---
Derek strode to the door as soon as he heard Stiles reaching the top of the stairs leading to the loft. Stiles’ heartbeat was erratic but that didn’t seem too unusual. When Derek had suggested Stiles get it checked out once he had been told that he had regular enough checkups, which he always came out of healthy. There were no other symptoms that could lead to the conclusion that Stiles had some kind of heart disease so Derek tried not to worry about it too much. There was no panicked sound to Stiles’ footsteps either so everything should be fine.
He leaned against the sliding door and watched Stiles hop up the last step, immediately looking up at Derek and holding out… flowers? It was never pleasant to be caught off guard and as Derek's stomach plummeted, he realized that he had come to be way too relaxed around Stiles. There the boy was, 18 and almost fully grown, still wearing that ridiculous worn out red hoody - despite Derek having gotten him two alternative ones to wear so far -, throwing Derek's emotions into a whirlwind simply by holding a few flowers.
“What are those?” Derek asked when Stiles came to a stop in front of him, clamping his mouth shut before he could question out loud who they were for instead. He steeled himself, crossed his arms in front of his chest and got ready for Stiles to start gushing about having met someone and scored a date. Then he would probably stick around and have Derek talk his spirits up for the meeting, as if Derek knew anything about dating successfully, and then he would leave. The white and blue flower heads bobbed up and down, seeming to taunt Derek and the way his stomach twisted in dread, while his chest tightened with want. He knew he shouldn’t but he wanted Stiles for himself.
“If I had a dollar for every time you asked that question…” Stiles murmured but reminded himself to take it easy. This was Derek’s go to reaction whenever he was holding back and was unsure how to respond. Maybe the flowers were a little too much? “Flowers for the loft. To brighten the place up a bit. You like?”
“For me- I mean, here? The loft?” Derek asked, perplexed, straightening from his stance, eyes wide.
“Yeah,” Stiles said, ducking his head slightly as a small flush dotted his cheeks. He brought up a finger to poke at one of the blue petals. “My mom used to have flowers around everywhere all the time, you know, so I thought-“
“We used to do that, too,” Derek interrupted him and Stiles looked up to see Derek staring at the bouquet. If Stiles wasn’t mistaking – and he’d like to think he knew Derek quite well by now – his face was a little flushed. “As kids we made a competition out of it. Whoever brought home the prettiest flowers won. The adults would judge… And Peter did his best to ruin the whole thing.”
“That sure sounds like a Peter thing to do. That's cute though. Your house was probably an indoor forest then, huh? That sounds pretty cool. Kind of uh,” Stiles gestured behind Derek with his free hand, “kind of very different from what you have here.”
“I should probably do something about that,” Derek nodded.
“I've only been saying that since forever,” Stiles said with a grin, happiness surging through him as he realized what this meant. Derek was finally starting to voice the desire to actively move forward in life.
“You have,” Derek agreed, eyes fixed on Stiles. Stiles would never get over it. There was so much in those eyes, mixing and matching along with the colors, like a bright rainforest storm. They were alive and powerful; impressive, even without having to shine red. Derek would never be a man of many words, and he shouldn't be, Stiles thought, not when he was so expressive in demeanor and action. There was softness in Derek's expression now, like a hint of a smile that was ready to break out any time. There was gentleness and patience, and there was something free in the way he moved.
“You've come a long way, big guy.” Stiles couldn’t help the affectionate tone his voice took as he tapped the bouquet against Derek’s chest.
“Only have one person to thank for that,” Derek murmured, still looking at Stiles rather than the flowers.
“Duh, yourself,” Stiles laughed, trying to ease his nerves. This feeling of intimacy was new territory and the tension was strong enough to make him feel like he was going to buzz right out of his skin. God, he was in so deep if anything went wrong he knew his heart was going to shatter into a million pieces. And he only had himself to blame for putting himself in such a situation.
Derek huffed, a short, amused puff of breath, and then his fingers settled along Stiles’, wrapped around the bouquet. Stiles couldn't remember ever having his heart jump so violently in his chest. It's not that they didn't touch on a daily basis. Physical contact had become proper routine. But this was different. Derek’s hand is practically on top of his so Stiles wouldn’t have been able to pull his hand away if he wanted to.
“No, idiot, I mean you,” Derek said. It had been a long time since Stiles had taken that particular insult as such but he couldn’t tell when exactly it had become a term of endearment. “Without you I would probably still be stuck in a rusty train car if it hasn’t fallen apart at this point.”
“Remember how hard you tried to fight me on that move? Don’t you love it when I’m right?” Stiles didn’t know how he was managing to talk at all right now, not to mention sound so calm. Then again Derek knew he was far from calm anyway.
“There are things I love more than that.” There it was again, that same, mellow, mild tone; one that Stiles felt safe to assume was reserved for him – unless that was just wishful thinking. He swallowed hard, tempted to ask which things those were. But his mouth hung ever so slightly open for a few seconds too long and suddenly Derek was pulling the bouquet out of his hand and stepping back.
“I’m going to get some water for these,” Derek said quietly and stepped away. All of the air left Stiles as he watched Derek’s retreating back, clad in a soft maroon sweater. And suddenly the moment became nothing but a missed opportunity. Stiles sighed, running a hand through his growing hair and glanced at his bag at his side. If he really wanted to make a move he still had an ace up his sleeve. He still wasn’t sure how good his odds were though. Stiles didn’t want to ruin the great friendship they had.
Derek carried the vase over to place it in the middle of the table carefully, as Stiles stopped next to him, setting his bag down.
“Are you hungry? We can order in some lunch,” Derek suggested, turning the bouquet so the sunlight fell on it just right.
“Nah, I’m good. For now. We’re definitely getting something later. I’m thinking Domino’s. Oh, and talking about food? My dad invited you over for dinner one day.”
Derek froze. “He what?”
“I tried to tell him about the supernatural thing and he didn’t really believe me. He thought I was trying to cover up something else so, uh, he wants to meet you to find out if what I’m lying about. I figured you could show him and prove that I’m not lying for once.” Stiles’ lips tightened in a thing line. And that you’re not my boyfriend. Unfortunately.
“Okay… I guess I can come over. What do you want me to do? Just, like, shift in front of him?” Derek wasn’t so sure how good of an idea a dinner might be. Last time he had seen the sheriff after all, was when he’d been arrested. Not a good lasting impression to make. He knew how important the man was to Stiles though, and after everything Stiles had done to help Derek out, this was the least he could do in return.
“He’ll be ready for it. He’ll deal with it. Somehow. Just,” Stiles waved a hand through the air, “do whatever to convince him that the werewolf stuff is all there is to it.”
“Alright, sure… What is it he thinks you’re doing?”
“Heh, uh, no idea. Probably thinks I’m doing drugs or in a gang-“
“That’s the first time you’ve lied to me in over a year,” Derek interrupted, pointing at him accusatorily.
“Oops?” Stiles forced a sheepish grin, riding on the hope that Derek wouldn’t push it. Said werewolf sidled up to him instead and crossed his arms.
“Now I need to know what you’re hiding,” Derek insisted but Stiles promptly ignored him.
“Hey, where’s that Ipod of yours. Haven’t seen it in a while,” Stiles brought up, letting his gaze sweep the apartment.
“No changing the subject! You’re not supposed to keep stuff fro-“
“You used to have it on you all the time.” Stiles walked off to check the bed. No such luck. “Seriously, you didn’t throw it out, did you?”
“I could never throw it out.”
“It’s gonna die eventually,” Stiles pointed out, and hoisted himself up to sit on the table while Derek retrieved the Ipod from the kitchen. He was gazing down at it with a far away look in his eyes. Before Stiles got to ask, Derek spoke up by himself.
“It used to be Laura’s,” he explained solemnly. “She gave it to me after the fire so I had something to keep me calm when things got to be too much. It was the only way I could fall asleep… distract myself instead of being focused on everything happening around me every second of every day.”
By the time Derek looked up again, Stiles was holding a plain CD case in his hands.
“I thought maybe it was time to update the contents, mix it up a bit, so I uh…”
“You made me a mixtape?” Derek looked even more perplexed then he had with the flowers. His eyebrows were knitted together. He looked way too concentrated and serious for talk about music.
“Strictly speaking it’s a mix-CD, since tapes kind of disappeared into space about a decade ago but yeah… It’s just a playlist of some nice songs, soundtracks and music to dance to and stuff like that. It seems to fit you more these days. Not that there’s anything wrong with piano. I included some of that in there as well, but they have a little more pep in them. You probably won’t like every single song but I think I got you- I got, uh…” Stiles’ voice died in his throat as Derek’s hand came into contact with his knee. Derek was suddenly a lot closer than he had just been. His thumb pressed against the jeans material lightly.
“I hope I’m not reading this wrong... With the flowers and the mix-CD…” Derek drew even closer.
“Yeah, no- I mean,” Stiles breathed. “If by that you’re saying you want to kiss me then please...” His eyes dropped to Derek’s lips in a silent plea, rather than finishing his sentence. Derek mirrored the movement as he leaned in. In any scenario he had imagined it all happened fast and energetically; it was typically Stiles who would go the last step, and not wait as he did now, eyes closing the closer Derek got. He heard the other hold in his breath when their lips were mere hair widths apart.
Then Derek kissed him, soft and slow and gentle. It was a comfortable slide of lips, short but lingering before he pulled away and watched the smile grow on Stiles’ face.
“I guess we won’t be able to prove my dad wrong after all,” Stiles breathed then, his hand finding Derek’s, fingers sliding in between his and tightening.
“Oh? He thought you were lying about being with me?” Derek raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not a very far-fetched assumption when your bisexual son hangs out around a sight like you all the time, stays for long hours, and spends all his allowance on him.”
“I guess not,” Derek huffed out in amusement, hypnotized by the spark in Stiles’ eyes. Stiles pulled him in for another kiss, just as gentle as the prior one until he nips Derek’s lower lip right before he leaned back. Derek was not proud of the sound he made but he didn’t particularly care right then.
“Thank fuck you finally got the hint. I wouldn’t have known what to do next to get my point across. Probably serenade you from the parking lot while you stand on the balcony,” Stiles chuckled. “I don’t know why I told you that. I might still do it. I probably will. But the surprise will be when. You won’t see it coming, let me tell you that much.”
Derek snorted. “Why don’t you just shup up and kiss me again.”
“Now that is also a plan I can get behind.”
---
They came to stand in the middle of the room to take a proper look at the new arrangement. Derek brought an arm around Stiles’ waist, who sank into his chest tiredly.
“I think this looks a lot more like home,” Derek said quietly from where his chin was rested on Stiles’ shoulder. From the forest wallpaper and the pictures, beanbags and the copious pillows and blankets to the extra beds and dressers upstairs, Derek couldn’t find anything that felt out of place anymore. There were even fresh flowers in every vase. When the rest of the pack came to visit soon, as they had promised in texts and e-mails, he hoped that maybe they would find a reason to stay.
Derek sensed Stiles’ smile in the way his scent sweetened and the way he nestled further in against him. Nuzzling Stiles’ neck, Derek closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly, going through a mental checklist of everything he had to commit to memory for worse times; everything that meant home. In the end it all came down to one factor; a certain weight that grounded him and supported him all the same, a warmth that made him forget the cold, a scent only a single person wore mixed with more or less the scents of comic books, the forest, curly fries, medication and energy drinks; it came down to two brown eyes and spotted pale skin, quirked lips with irony left to spare and a red hoodie.
“There's just one thing missing,” Stiles hummed. “I looked around and I know just where we can get it relatively cheap second hand but well kept.”
“What is it?”
“A piano.”
Silence.
“Just an upright piano. It won't take up much space,” Stiles continued.
“I haven't played in years, Stiles. Not since…”
“I know but-”
“I forgot everything for sure.”
“You didn't forget it. Everything you learned is still there, you just need to rediscover it and practice. Just - hear me out - just think about it. Give the thought a chance, okay?” Stiles insisted. Derek was still at his back and he refrained from moving either, waiting for the idea to settle.
Derek wasn't sure if he wanted that part of his past to become a part of his future. He couldn't exactly imagine sitting in front of the keys and pouring his heart into them. Then again, he reminded himself, everything he had around him as of that moment was the result of giving the thought of trusting Stiles a chance. If you had asked him a few years ago if having a home and someone to hold whom he loved was possible he would've said no. He would have laughed it off without a second thought. Yet here he was.
He pressed his lips softly against the back of Stiles’ neck in silent gratitude.
“Alright.”
---
(Epilogue: when the next Christmas rolls around Derek plays Christmas carols on the piano while the pack sings until Stiles shoos him off the stool to perform a slightly choppy but heartfelt rendition of Happy Birthday. Derek may or may not have tears in his eyes but he definitely kisses Stiles in front of the pack for the first time.)