Staying

fandom-madnessess:

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 678
Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, POV Stiles
♥
Read on AO3

Stiles wants to cry. This is not what he’d planned. Fuck! He’s
ruined the weekend before it well and truly starts. He tightens his arms and
legs around Derek, feeling like a koala clinging to Derek’s back, then buries his face in Derek’s hair and inhales. Derek tightens
his grip on Stiles’ legs in response, his hands
large and warm beneath Stiles’
thighs. Actually, this isn’t so bad.

‘Does it
hurt?’ Derek asks. He turns his
head a little. His stubble scrapes against Stiles’ cheek.
‘I still think we should’ve gone back.’

Stiles rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Derek’s cheek. ‘We’re
almost there. Just keep following the path.’

Derek opens his mouth to protest, again, but decides to
keep walking instead. They really are almost there. The slightly curved path
they’re on straightens out after
another minute of walking, and the trees open up, revealing a small glade with
a creek gurgling softly at the far end. The grass is bright green, dotted with
buttercups and forget-me-nots. The air smells fresh and clean. The sunlight
streams into the open space in a way that makes all the colours brighter and shine
like precious stones. It’s like
something out of a dream.

‘Wow,’ they breath out at the same time.

Derek walks to the middle of the glade, sets the backpack
with food down, then gently lowers himself to the ground with Stiles still on his
back. Stiles lets go, a little reluctantly, and they sit side by side for a
minute, just looking around. Stiles didn’t think
there was anything that came close to the beauty of Derek’s eyes. Guess he was wrong, though
Derek’s eyes still win.

‘I
should take a look at your ankle,’ Derek says.
He tears his eyes away from the scenery and starts unlacing Stiles’ boot.

Half an hour into their hike, Stiles tripped and twisted
his ankle. Derek wanted to go back, make sure it wasn’t sprained or broken, but since they were already halfway
to their destination, Stiles insisted they keep moving. Stiles went on Derek’s back, and their food and picnic
blanket on Derek’s front. Thank heaven for
strong, built, werewolf husbands.

The boot slides easily off Stiles foot, and they both
breathe a sigh of relief.

‘I told
you it wasn’t that bad,’ Stiles says.

‘You also
said that when you got shot in the leg,’ Derek
points out. He removes Stiles’ sock
and gently starts probing and moving Stiles’ foot.
It’s a little sore, but it doesn’t really hurt.

‘Nothing
a little rest won’t cure,’ Stiles grins.

‘I’m gonna have to carry you back, aren’t I?’

‘But you
won’t have to carry the food.’

‘Because
you’ll have eaten it all.’ Derek looks pointedly at the
sandwich Stiles is already stuffing into his mouth.

‘You
love me,’ Stiles grins, bits of
sandwich falling out of his mouth.

‘It’s why I married you,’ Derek agrees. His eyes go soft and
he lifts Stiles’ foot to press a kiss to his
ankle.

Stiles’
insides melt, making it hard to swallow his food.

They spend the entire afternoon in the little glade. They
eat their lunches, then rest their feet in the little creek. The water is cold,
but not freezing, and it tickles between Stiles’ toes,
making him squirm and giggle. They lie in the sun, talking about everything and
nothing, Stiles’ head pillowed on the folded
picnic blanket, Derek’s head
pillowed on Stiles’ stomach.

‘We
should move here,’ Stiles says. His fingers
scratch against Derek’s
scalp, just the way he knows Derek’s likes
it.

‘Hmm?’

‘I don’t wanna leave, so there’s no choice but to move in.’

‘Pretty
sure the park owns this.’

‘You
could buy it for me,’ Stiles
suggests.

‘Buy it
yourself. ‘S your money too.’

They stay like that until the shadows of the trees reach
Derek’s legs. Reluctantly, they
pack everything up and pull on their socks and shoes again. Stiles tries his
ankle. If he exaggerates the pain a little so Derek will give him another
piggyback ride, who can blame him?