Stiles aggressively refutes the idea of a supreme soulmate. There’s no possible way that there’s only one person destined to be your partner in life, to fill in the gaps completely.
He toys with the idea that there may be multiple people of varying aptitudes that sew up bits and pieces of you, but to believe there’s “THE ONE” out there to make your soul tap dance to the song of your heart and make you feel like the world is finally conquerable? Nope.
Then he meets Derek Hale. Gruff, scruff, and a whole lot of huff and puff.
It just solidifies Stiles’ thoughts against it because there’s no way that man, beautiful, insufferable asshole that he is, is alone because he is just so broken. If there’s anyone in need of soulmate superglue in any form, it’s him.
He mentally battles the universe, existential crises sneak up on him on idle days, sleepless nights fly by as he struggles with his thoughts.
Stiles finds himself challenging Derek every step of the way, be it battle plans or what to watch on pack movie nights; Stiles is the push to Derek’s pull.
Stiles is observant, but dense in the same breath; he notes the patterns of their tentative friendship, but chalks it up to friendly bantering and a release of pent up tension from those who trespass through Beacon Hills. They’re masters of button pushing by now.
He could say with confidence that Derek might be a transient soulmate, at best, though his nights are now filled with the ‘what ifs’ of permanence, which are sidelined as quick as they come.
****
Six years down the line, Stiles reflects upon his experiences: loves attained and lost, friends come and gone; Derek the only constant.
Lounging on the couch, feet propped up on Derek’s lap as he finishes typing up police reports he took home.
“Do you believe in soulmates?”
Derek places his bookmark, lays it on the coffee table, mindlessly rubbing circles on Stiles’ ankles as he mulls the thought over.
“No,” he firmly states as he turns his gaze to Stiles.
“But I believe in a soulmate,” He smirks as he leans over and softly kisses Stiles’ forehead, cheekbones, nose and finally sealing the affirmation on his lips.
Stiles chuckles, feet kicking Derek’s thigh, “You’re such a sap.”
“Mmm,” Derek murmurs, “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
“Lies. I’d have you in every way.”
Stiles waggles his eyebrows, smirking as he grabs the back of Derek’s neck and pulls him in for a fevered kiss. Saying all he can’t say, could never put into thoughts or words, with the press of their lips. A kiss that says, ‘You are my one and only.’
Push and Pull
Published
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