Hot Potato

yodas-yo-yo:

This is for everyone in the awesome Sterek writing group 4. And especially to @seanconneraille  whose initial prompt: Potato, led to this ridiculousness. Seriously. There were tons of awesome prompts, but the heart wants what it wants.  Also a special shout out to @artemis69 who said they should plant the potato.
I wrote this in about half an hour and it’s completely unbetaed. So all mistakes are mine. A cleaned up version is now on AO3

They’ve been together about three years now, living together for one, and Stiles thinks they’re  okay. He has a job as a freelance programmer, which involves a little bit of travelling, and a lot of working from home in his underpants, only putting a shirt on for skype calls. Derek is a history teacher at Beacon Hills High School, which should not be as hot as it is. Fortunately it turns out that Stiles finds 28yr old teacher!Derek with sweater vests and  blazers with elbow patches even more attractive than the leather wearing Alpha!werewolf badass that first caught his eye in the preserve all those years ago.

The thing is, Derek doesn’t need to be a badass anymore, at least, not in the way he used to. The Nemeton has been dealt with, and the pack is flourishing, Beacon Hills is no longer a hell hole and so now he’s a badass in other, more subtle ways. He’s a badass gardner, who has lovingly nurtured a little plot of fruits and vegetables in their backyard. Then there are his badass knitting skills, (he made Stiles a kickass pair of mittens last winter) and don’t get Stiles started on the cooking, okay? No. Really. Don’t get him started. The cooking isn’t actually that great, Stiles does all the cooking, but Derek can mix a mean cocktail, which means their powers combined result in some truly awesome, if slightly blurry, mealtime memories.

Anyway, it isn’t often that Stiles is forced to work the weekend, but today the shit has hit the fan, and he doesn’t have any other choice. When Derek gets home on Friday evening, wearing the blue sweater vest that brings out his eyes and the charcoal blazer with the elbow patches, Stiles can only stare up at him from his desk tragically and mourn the loss of what could have been.

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