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"Oh! Derek!" Stiles lunged across the center console. "We should stop here!"
Derek lifted his elbow to guard the wheel. "Will you sit back down before we crash?"
Stiles huffed, but he sat back in the passenger's seat and rebuckled his seatbelt. "Fine, but seriously, pull in here!"
Derek finally looked at what had caught Stiles's attention. Cars packed the field near on the side of the highway, and he spotted a Ferris wheel and a few other rides poking up from the landscape. "A fair?"
"Yes! Come on, let's go eat our weight in funnel cakes and turkey legs!"
Derek raised his eyebrows. That sounded like a one-way ticket to Stiles hunched over in the back seat, whining about his stomach for the next four hours.
But Stiles's eyes practically glowed with hope and anticipation, and it had been a long time since Derek had had a funnel cake.
He took the next exit off the highway.
***
It had started as a way to just get Stiles out of town. They'd been texting off and on for months, and slowly Derek learned how to read between the lines. He picked up on the cues and saw how bad things were getting, how paranoid Stiles was, how little he was actually sleeping.
Derek came back to town for the high school graduation and asked Sheriff Stilinski if he thought Stiles would benefit from getting out of Beacon Hills for the summer. The sheriff had stared at him, speechless, for a full ten seconds before wrapping Derek in a hug and saying, "Please."
Stiles had balked, at first, refusing to leave his dad, before the sheriff reminded him that it was just for a few weeks and he promised to keep up his diet and stay safe. Once that had been settled, Stiles agreed, and Derek had seen the tension bleed from his shoulders.
For two weeks now, they'd been heading east, ambling over the Rocky Mountains and the Great Plains with no particular destination in mind beyond "Maybe Florida. Or Maine." They'd gone to the Grand Canyon and Carlsbad Caverns and Pike's Peak and dozens of other, less-famous places, with boatloads of kitschy tourist stuff that Stiles adored. The back of Derek's SUV was slowly filling with tacky souvenir T-shirts and wolf knick-knacks and gifts for people back home.
Stiles was surprisingly easy to travel with. He filled the car with conversation, but never minded if Derek's only contribution was a nod or a snort of disbelief. He played Pandora almost constantly, poking Derek for a thumbs up or thumbs down for each song. He talked to people when Derek didn't want to, and provided a great barrier between Derek and the people who occasionally tried to hit on him when they stopped for food.
Derek was in a better place now, but he was also self-aware enough to admit the only person he was interested in was the one who was currently skipping toward the fair, singing an off-key, made-up song about turkey legs.
"Seriously, Derek, I'm getting one as big as my head." Stiles held out his hands for a visual. "And then a funnel cake for dessert."
"Please don't get sick in my car," Derek said.
Stiles flipped him off. "I'll have you know I have a stomach of steel."
Derek rolled his eyes, but he still bought them both a turkey leg and a lemonade.
They wandered the fairgrounds, Stiles gesturing wildly at everything and Derek just trying to keep lemonade from spilling all over him. Stiles stopped at the petting zoo and insisted on petting every animal there at least once. Derek won a small stuffed panda at the ring toss, which he immediately gave to Stiles, and Stiles ran to a dart game and spent $15 before he won a stuffed tiger with heavy eyebrows.
"He looks just like you," Stiles cooed, and Derek pushed him away with a laugh.
They split a funnel cake and another lemonade, and then Stiles dragged them over to the Ferris wheel for a ride. Derek wasn't entirely sure the thing was up to code, but hell, he could protect Stiles if anything happened. Besides, he really did love Ferris wheels.
Derek leaned against the metal backrest and sighed, watching the fair. It stretched out beneath them, dotted with lights and people, music and laughter dancing through the evening air. The Ferris wheel gave them a cool breeze, and Derek closed his eyes briefly.
Something popped, and his eyes snapped open and he threw his arm across Stiles's chest.
Before he could assess the situation, Stiles grabbed him and pointed. "Fireworks, dude!"
Derek followed Stiles's finger, and sure enough, a fireworks show had started against the darkening sky. He relaxed minutely.
Stiles turned to him with a grin. "Did you think the Ferris wheel was falling apart?"
Derek slowly lowered his arm. "Maybe."
"And your first thought was to protect me." Stiles rested his head on Derek's shoulder. "I feel loved."
You should, Derek thought, but he couldn't make himself say it. "I'll always protect you," he said instead.
"I know," Stiles said, his heartbeat steady.
Derek closed his eyes and cautiously laid his cheek on Stiles's head. Most days he still didn't feel worthy of trust like that. It still boggled his mind that Stiles gave it so easily.
Stiles linked his warm fingers through Derek's, and Derek's heart thudded at the touch.
"Thank you for this," Stiles whispered.
Derek turned his hand so their palms pressed together, so he could hold Stiles's hand properly. It felt like everything he hadn't been able to say for weeks now. Maybe months. "Thank you for coming with me."
Stiles just squeezed his hand in response.
They rode the Ferris wheel and watched the fireworks burst over the fair. Stiles didn't let go of his hand the entire time.
To be fair, Derek didn't let go, either.