“Isn’t chocolate bad for canines?” Stiles asked, his elbows on the table, chin in his hands.
Across from him, Derek looked up from his book, spoon full of fancy dark chocolate ice cream halfway to his face. “What?”
“Chocolate,” Stiles repeated, motioning with a flick of his eyes to Derek’s pint. “You’re a werewolf. Shouldn’t you be, like, allergic? Or something.”
Derek gave him a look that very clearly said he was having an internal struggle about whether or not the ridiculous words coming out of Stiles’ mouth merited a coherent response. “I’m not… you know I’m not an actual dog, right?” he said after a few moments. “I’m- I’m a supernatural being.”
Stiles considered this for a moment, before digging his spoon into the melting goop his own ice cream was becoming in the swelter of summer heat that had prompted them to break out the ice cream in the first place. Maybe he would bring up air conditioning again. “But you turn into a whole actual wolf.”
“I- … but that’s not… the same thing,” Derek said slowly. “I’m not becoming a wolf, I’m still just a werewolf, in a wolf… shape.”
Stiles sighed. “I get why Scott isn’t allergic to chocolate,” he explained. “But you were born a werewolf, not a human. So like, aren’t you part wolf?”
“No,” Derek said, and Stiles could hear his patience running thin but this had been bothering him for a while. “I’m not part human, part wolf. I’m entirely werewolf.”
“And werewolves are not canines, despite that they turn into actual wolves,” Stiles said. “Sorry, wolf shapes.” He knew how petty that last word sounded but he didn’t take it back.
“Yes,” Derek agreed. “We are a completely different species.”
Stiles sighed, and looked back down to the book he had selected, one of many from the pile they were supposed to be going through. He could feel Derek watching him, but he ignored it, rattling one foot around as his eyes skimmed words his brain didn’t read, until another thought occurred to him.
“What kind of lizard do you think a kanima is?”
The sound of Derek’s head hitting the table was highly satisfying.
This was definitely inspired by How I Met Your Mother. No regrets.
2:15 AM
“Dude, admit it,” Stiles slurs. “We’d be great parents!”
Derek nods empathetically. “We would be!”
Stiles looks at him with wide eyes. “We should totally adopt a baby!”
“We should adopt a baby!”
–
Earlier that night, 9:35 PM
“Still bummed out about the breakup?” Derek asks, coming up behind Stiles. It’s a chilly night so Derek’s glad he decided to wear the dark purple cable knit sweater Laura got him as an early Christmas present.
Stiles gives an indifferent shrug. “Meh.”
“Liar.”
“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Stiles murmurs, sipping his drink. “Goddamn, Allison makes a mean drink.”
Derek huffs, taking a sip of his own coke-infused vodka. He makes a face at the burn in his throat. “She does, and it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles frowns. “What? Of course, it’s not. Allison is the best bartender ever. She knows what my heart wants and needs. She’s gifted, not pathetic.”
“I meant about your breakup, dumbass.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles snorts, staring out at the city as he leans on the balcony railing. “You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves, man. Admit it. I’m twenty-eight, stuck in a job that I hate, trying to find the person of my dreams so I can finally settle down, but instead–,” he cuts off, shaking his head. “I’m wasting my time. What am I doing wrong, Derek? I don’t get it.”
Derek looks away, leaning on the railing beside Stiles. Despite the warmth of the sweater, tiny little goosebumps erupt on his skin from the way Stiles leans into him for a moment too brief for Derek’s liking before pulling away.
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Derek finally manages to say, but this only makes Stiles roll his eyes. “No, hey, listen, you’re not! You’re a great guy. Think I’d hang out with you if you weren’t?”
“I always thought it was because of my sparkling wit.”
Derek snorts. “I think you meant to say despite your sparkling wit.”
Stiles smacks his stomach, making him smile. “Fucker.”
“Stiles, you’re a great guy and one day, you’re going to find someone who not only appreciates that but loves it. And your age is a number. I mean, look at me. I’m almost thirty-three.”
Stiles checks his watch. “Three more hours, buddy.”
“I think the most important part is to keep trying. You might strike out, but at least you’ll have tried.”
“Easy to say when you look like that,” Stiles points out, waving his hand at Derek’s general everything and it infuriates him. If there’s anything Derek hates more than cocky, drunk Stiles, it’s self-deprecating, drunk Stiles. Self-deprecating Stiles never sees what Derek sees; he sees the failed relationships, the minute insecurities, the inability to settle down.
Derek sees the Stiles that’s always trying and hoping for something more, the confidence he gives other people when they’re doubting themselves, and the ability to keep going. Derek sees the strong, loyal, honest version of Stiles and it really gets to him when Stiles turns a blind eye to all of that.
“So why am I single?” Derek asks instead. Truth be told, there’s only one reason Derek’s still single and he’s staring at it.
Stiles squints at him. “Why are you single? You can go to any bar and I bet you can get any guy to bend over backward with just one word.”
“We already made that bet and you already won,” Derek points out.
“Exactly! So why are you single?”
Derek opens his mouth to say it, to finally admit to Stiles something that he’s been wanting to say for close to two years now, but chickens out at the last second. “I don’t know.”
“Another Christmas, another lonely year.” Stiles sighs, gulping the last of his drink. “I’m gonna go inside and get another drink. Want a refill?”
Derek shakes his head. “I’m good with this, thanks.”
–
2:20 AM
“Wait, wait, wait,” Derek shushes him, making Stiles pout. “We can’t do this.”
“But Derek–”
“We have to name the baby! We can’t just call it ‘the baby’!”
Stiles looks at him with awe. “Dude, you are so right! What about Luke?”
Derek wrinkles his nose at him. He opens his mouth but closes it with a pop. “What if the baby is a girl? I like girls better. Means I can have a gun and pretend to clean it when she brings a boy over. Or a girl. Whoever she wants.”
“Leia!”
“We can’t call the baby Leia!”
“Why not?”
“Because! No, wait, because, that’s gonna – hic – our dog’s name!”
“We have a dog?” Stiles gasps, nearly knocking over the red cup. He leans over, smacking both his hands on Derek’s face and holding it tightly. “Der, you can’t lie, kay? We have a dog?”
Derek almost stumbles back at Stiles’s weight but manages to right himself. “Of course we have a dog, idiot. What family with kids doesn’t have a dog?”
Up close, Stiles’s eyes are very shiny and brown. They may also be sparkling.
“Der, we’d be a family! That’s all I’ve ever wanted!”
Derek hiccups again, blinking his eyes. He feels himself leaning over onto Stiles but Stiles steadies him. This is nice, he thinks. It should always be like this. Derek falling over and Stiles catching him.
“I’d always catch you, idiot.”
“Huh?”
“You just said–no wait, back to Leia the puppy. No, wait, before that. If Leia’s the puppy, what do we name our baby daughter?”
Derek thinks for a second. “Can we name her Natalia?”
Stiles gives him a hopeful look. “Natalia Claudia Stilinski-Hale?”
Derek beams. “ Yes!”
–
11:24 PM
“Excited for the big 3-3?” Stiles asks, humming pleasantly.
Derek shrugs, looking at him through his periphery. “Age is but a number.”
Stiles laughs. “C’mon, seriously.”
“What’s not to enjoy? I’m gonna be 33, I’ll be a real adult–”
“I thought that happened at the big 3-0?”
Derek snorts. “Apparently we didn’t get that memo.”
Stiles laughs. “Damn straight.”
“I’m–I’m just so happy, y’know? Like despite all the shitty stuff that we’ve all been through. I’m so glad I get to look around that room–” Derek says, pointing at the living room behind them. “–and see all the people that I love and care about and know that I get to have them all for another year. That I got to have all of them for 33 years and I can have them for another one.”
Stiles gives him a considering look, before slowly breaking out into a smile. “Dude, you’re so drunk. You’re getting all cheesy and shit.”
Derek shoves him half-heartedly, making him giggle. “Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
2:30 AM
“We should go adopt Luke or Natalia right now!” Stiles says after a few minutes of quiet, making Derek lose his train of thought.
“Hm? Whazzat now?” Derek squints at him. “Who’s Luke? Is that your new boyfriend?”
Stiles gives an exaggerated gasp. “How dare you, sir? I would never cheat on you!”
Derek gives him a dopey smile. “Good.” He pats Stiles on the cheek. “I’d never cheat on you either. I love you so much,” he emphasizes it by throwing his arms out, almost knocking Stiles down.
“Aw, bro! We’d be the best parents ever!”
“Obviously!” Derek grins before something occurs to him. “We can call this Operation: Bro Parenting!”
Stiles gasps. “Ohmygawwwwwd, yes!” He stumbles upright and punches the air. “Operation: Bro Parenting is a go!”
–
11:54 PM
“Dude, dude, dude,” Stiles grins at him. “You’re going to be 33 in like five minutes. Oh man!”
Derek nods. “I’m going to be so wise and old and you better listen to me. With age comes wisdom and I’ve seen the future, Stiles! I’ve seen, um, wait, you’re 28.” He starts counting on his fingers, blinking when his fingers don’t stop fusing into bigger fingers. He shakes his hands and smiles when everything’s normal again. “Yeah, I’ve seen like five years of the future, Stiles!”
Stiles’s mouth drops open and all he can think of is how pretty Stiles’s lips are and how much he just wants to touch them and kiss them and–
“Do we still have stuffed pizza crusts, Derek? There’s still Uber right? I don’t know how I’d survive without Uber, Derek!”
Derek pats him on the head. “It’s okay. We’ll go first thing in the morning. That way, we’ll beat the – hic – crowd and get the best one.”
“You’re a genius.”
–
1:20 AM
“Okay, you’re cut off,” someone who looks oddly like Scott says, taking Derek’s drink away.
“You can’t do that! My mom said never to waste food or drinks and I still have so much left!” Derek argues. “Also, tell your Scott #2 to stop. When did we get two of you anyways?”
“Yeah, bro, you can’t waste alcohol,” Stiles says wisely. He tries to reach out for the drink but Scott #1 – the rude one – does something with magic and suddenly, the red cup is gone.
“Woah, when did Scott #1 learn magic?” Derek whispers to Stiles.
“I think Scott #2 taught him.”
“True. Okay, Scott #2 can stay,” Derek declares. “I’m the birthday boy and what I say goes.”
“Huzzah!” Stiles crows.
“Yeah, you’re cut off too,” Scott #1 says and takes Stiles’s cup away but Stiles doesn’t even care. In fact, he smiles happily at Scott #1 and then winks at Derek.
Derek grins dopily and elsewhere, Scott #1 and Scott #2 facepalm.
–
2:05 AM
“You’re my bestest friend, Stiles.” Derek says. “I wish – hic – I wish we could just be one, y’know?”
“Like one person? Dude, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. That’s too much awesome in one person. The world isn’t ready for that.”
Derek nods wisely. “You’re right. Okay, we can be two people. But we should like be one unit. Like a furniture unit. Oh, oh, like a bookcase! You’re the shelf and I’m the, um, like the case without any shelves. So we’re both kinda useless but when you put me and you together, we can be a bookcase!”
Stiles claps his hands. “I’d love to be bookshelves with you! But, like who can we get to be the books?”
Derek thinks about that for a second, before snapping his fingers. “Babies!”
“Babies are books?”
“Yeah, like we can get a bunch of babies and they can be the books on our bookcase and all together we’d be the prettiest bookcase in the world!”
Stiles nods with a big smile on his face. “Yes, and we should be the classy bookcase. Like not some shitty Ikea Billy case. We should be an elegant, hand-crafted mahogany bookcase.”
“ Yes! ” Derek agrees. “Wait, but we don’t have girl parts. How can we have books without girl parts?”
Stiles gasps loudly, jumping in his spot. “We should adopt the books!”
“Yeah?”
“Dude, admit it! We’d be great parents!”
–
The next afternoon, 2:33 PM
Derek opens his eyes for less than a second before he shuts them, yanking the blanket over his head and curling up in a fetal position. Too much brightness, too much sun, too much everything. Jesus Christ, what the hell did he do last night?
He lays in bed for a solid twenty minutes, trying to get his head to stop feeling like it wants to melt into a puddle, before pushing the blanket off and slowly opening his eyes.
“Did I drink my entire apartment last night?” he asks, not expecting anyone to answer.
Which is why he jumps when he hears Laura snicker and say, “Um, yeah. Also, Stiles is here.”
At that, Derek immediately sits up, heart thudding so loudly he’s sure Laura can hear. “Stiles is here?”
“Stiles is here.”
“Why?!”
Laura raises a brow at him and motions to the living room. “I think you should see for yourself. You should probably put some pants on first though.”
Derek frowns, but does as she says, hands shaking the whole time. He tries to think of what happened the night before but comes up short. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know how he ended up in bed. All he can remember is being out on the balcony with Stiles and drinking. A lot.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he gets to the living room but he can honestly say that a black husky puppy with a red and silver bow around his neck, jumping up at the sight of Derek isn’t it. The puppy runs straight to Derek, tumbling into his legs, hopping onto its back feet and reaching up.
“What the–,” Derek asks, leaning down to pick up the puppy, checking to see if it’s a girl or boy. It’s then that he notices Stiles standing in the corner, biting his lips with nervousness. “Stiles, why is there a dog?”
Laura snorts. “Um, as much as I’d love to watch this happen, I’ll give you two sometime.” She winks at him before whisking off into her room. Stiles clears his throat, fingers fidgeting and looking oddly out of place in an apartment he should be very comfortable with.
Derek looks between the puppy and Stiles, still stunned.
The silence stretches over for too long before Derek finally clears his throat. “So, the puppy is for…?”
“That’s Leia,” Stiles squeaks. Derek frowns, because that name sounds weirdly famil–
“Oh my god,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut from the embarrassment as the memories from last night flood his brain.
“I–you–the baby store was closed today but I remembered Deaton had the puppy and she always reminded me of you whenever I saw her and I went this morning after to see if she was still there because then it would be a sign, y’know, from like the universe. And she was! She was there and Deaton was there and I was there and all I could think of was you and what we talked about last night and it just made sense. Oh, happy birthday, by the way,” Stiles rambles, eyes widening in horror at the word vomit.
Something like hope flutters in Derek’s chest. “So you got me…Leia?”
“I-I don’t think we’re ready for Luke or Natalia, but oh Jesus, I really didn’t think this through, did I?” Stiles trails off, looking mortified. Derek smiles slightly, clutching Leia tighter to himself.
“We?” Derek asks, just to be a little shit, but his smile grows bigger when Stiles flushes. “I don’t remember being asked to be a ‘we’.”
Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “Today’s Christmas, asshole. You can’t just read between the lines and save me the embarrassment?”
Derek smirks. “It’s my birthday first. I can do whatever I want.”
Stiles snorts, shuffling his feet adorably. He peers at Derek, giving him a thoughtful look. “Technically, you already asked me to be a bookcase with you remember?”
Derek looks at him, bemused, before it clicks and he flushes. “Oh fuck off.”
Stiles gasps, covering Leia’s tiny ears. “Language, Derek! We have highly impressionable minds here!”
“I hate you.”
“Liar, liar,” Stiles sings.
“For the record, I don’t want to be bro-parents with you,” Derek murmurs, staring intently into Stiles’s eyes.
“That’s cool. I don’t either,” Stiles whispers, all shy and cute. He scratches Leia behind the ear, making her yip happily. Derek leans closer to Stiles, shifting just slightly so Leia doesn’t get smushed between them. “I guess I’ll settle for being real parents with you someday.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Stiles admits sheepishly. “I guess I never really let myself hope that I could have you. It was just easier to keep looking elsewhere; it hurts less when someone you’re not really into rejects you.”
Derek looks down at Leia, heart full of warmth and happiness. “I’m glad you tried one more time. I have a feeling it’ll be the last time you’ll have to.”
They grin at each other and Derek finally feels it; that sense of completeness that he’s been aching for.
“Magnetoreception: The sense which allows an organism to detect a magnetic field to perceive direction, altitude or location. How birds find their way home.
–
Stiles returns to Beacon Hills after four years at Stanford, only to find out that Derek has moved back into town. He brings him a housewarming gift. Derek makes food. Things escalate from there.”
Derek Hale and happiness – the ultimate kink – a sentiment shared by Stiles in this fic. It’s just perfectly done – both of our fave boys back in Beacon Hills and finally, finally able to settle and be happy. Favourite line including ‘Stiles’ brain bluescreens for a second when he sees how dark Derek’s eyes are.”
“"I like open concept,“ Stiles says, and Derek wonders briefly if he is simply thinking out loud. “And lots of seating. Like, maybe a big, cushy sectional. A couple of recliners. Lots of room to lounge.”
Derek nods, mostly out of habit. He’s become accustomed to hearing Stiles without really listening to him.”
Derek builds a house, Stiles doesn’t understand, until he does. This is so sweetly done, Derek is so lovely, and the final scenes in the house with dinner and the tour are perfect.
“"Hey,“ Stiles says, breaking the silence as he leans against the side of the Jeep, which has miraculously somehow survived everything.
“Hey,” Derek replies, a ready smirk curling the edge of his mouth. He’s always ready to smile when Stiles is around: it just seems to happen that way.
Again, Stiles says, “Hey.” Derek waits expectantly, and Stiles pushes off the Jeep, shoving his hands into his pockets and ambling towards Derek like he’s got all the time in the world. “Do you want to get something to eat?” he asks, the quiet confidence that Derek will say yes making the timbre of his voice a little lower than usual.”
This is short, but sweet, and totally lovely. Just what we want to happen to these two – naturally falling into one another.
Okay so “gratuitous beards” and “explicit peace” are both tags on this work which I feel negate any need for me to wax lyrical about it. BUT IM GONNA ANYWAY. This whole fic is just. Ugh. It’s just so satisfying and achingly sweet, and Stiles has no idea until he does. And Derek is so hopeful and open and so surprised that he is loved and I could cry at how much he deserves this ending.
“Prompt fill: “I would LOVE a future!fic where Stiles randomly bumps into Derek, maybe in nyc. He’s in college now or maybe even post college, and this is their first time interacting since Derek left Beacon Hills. Stiles is obviously SMOKING HOT now and Derek finally got his shit together and is a successful 30 something.”
This is awesome – Derek is settled and content and he has friends and a job and he’s happy okay? And then Stiles shows up and it’s even better. In such a short fic with no ‘plot’ grimm just writes such a believable experience and it feels like the start of the future.
“Instead he sits for a moment, looking at the empty search box, fingers on the home row the way his mother taught him. He thinks about that, and about the hole in the wall he’d lived with for so long, and the way Isaac had grinned at him last night when he’d finally gotten around to plugging the refrigerator in.
He finds himself typing in, “how to be a normal person.””
This is just brilliant. Hilarious and tragic and heartfelt all at once, I love this Derek who doesn’t have his shit together, I love his growth. I love Trixie more than possibly anything in the world. And Stiles totally loves Derek. So, you know, it’s all good.
“Derek might never admit what he wants from Stiles, what he’s wanted for so long, but Stiles is okay with that most days. It’s been years of this low thrumming, pulsing want between them and Stiles thinks of it like a living thing, warm and familiar and constant.”
I just really like the way this plays out – Derek’s restraint (for so many reasons) and Stiles actually being content with how things are, but still needing to mention it, to push. Because he’s Stiles and because he knows that he and Derek deserve more. So lovely.
“Derek Hale has a good day. (There is ice cream.)”
All of this is good. The whole fic is just filled with such warmth and gentleness and love it’s just a delight to read. Derek Hale is happy here, so so happy. You will be smiling the whole way through.
“The hairs on the back of Stiles’ neck tingle, and he swallows hard against the unmistakable sensation of someone staring at him. He’s tempted to just ignore it, but after a few seconds, his curiosity wins out and he looks up from his phone instead. He doesn’t notice anything right away, flicking his gaze along the people on the other side of the intersection until he suddenly stops and backtracks. It’s a little hard to see, what with the thick drizzle and the cars whizzing between them, but he would recognize that glorious bearded face anywhere, even after six years. Holy shit.”
Well. This is so damn good okay? We’ve got grown up Stiles with his own career, and Derek who is an architect and has had therapy and is happy and safe and well adjusted. AND THIS IS THEIR MOMENT. Cue Stiles getting all hot and bothered by Derek successfully adulting , and Derek being blown away by Stiles’ everything. And there’s Christmas. So you know I’m in love with this fic.
“It’s now, watching the fading rays of the afternoon sun on the longest day of the summer, that it becomes more and more apparent that Stiles needs a car. Stiles gets a text message from an unexpected someone. And a gift.”
This is such a great little fic – you get so much story in such a short space and the miles of unspoken words between Stiles and Derek are so present. It’s pre-slash and its so tantalising and hopeful – just awesome.
Because maybe Derek has been working outside — he’s been making a start on the porch outside the house — and he’s got sawdust in places sawdust shouldn’t be. His feet are cold, so he runs a small bath to warm them up, sitting on the edge of the tub in a tank top and letting the steam fill the bathroom. He strips the tank top off and slides into the tub, reaching up to switch the showerhead on. Water streams out and he holds it over his head, his hair falling flat in his face, the water running down his chest and over his cock.
His body slowly warms up, the nicks and scrapes he got from working healing up until his body feels whole again. There’s a container of raspberry scented shower gel on the side, and Derek squeezes some out, his large hands smoothing it down his body until he’s smelling all fruity sweet.
And he can hear Stiles coming through the door, can hear him calling out “Derek?” and Derek stays quiet, knows that Stiles will find him if he waits long enough because Stiles always finds him.
There’s slow, steady, steps up the stairs and the sound of Stiles kicking off his shoes, tugging at his tie and taking off the rest of his clothes. Steam escapes from the bathroom when Stiles opens the door, his eyes immediately tracing a path over Derek’s body. And Derek grins, tilts his head in invitation.
Stiles takes it, clambering into the tub with Derek. Aiming the stream of water over Stiles’ head, Derek’s laughter fills the room when Stiles squawks and splutters. Dropping it in the tub, Derek pulls Stiles close by the back of his neck and kisses him, his fingers pressing gently against Stiles’ skin.
And it’s even better than what Derek dared to imagine when he and Stiles started this, when they became serious. The comfort of Stiles always being here with him; these lazy makeouts because, for once, they have nowhere else to be. Derek wouldn’t change this for the world.
Sometimes Derek wonders how the hell he didnt realise it before, how he didnt look at Stiles and just know. Just know that their bodies would fit perfectly, that the curve of Stiles’s ass would fit against the curve of Derek’s hip, how Derek’s thumb would fit perfectly against the hollow under Stiles’s chin, or the one under his bottom lip. How perfect Derek’s hands would feel clamped around Stiles’s hips, or how Stiles’s fingers would fit just right around Derek’s arms. Or how Derek’s fingers would slot between Stiles’s ribs like they were made for each other.
He doesn’t know how he missed it. How he went through so much of his life without knowing how it would feel to have Stiles pulled back against his chest. But he’s got it now, and there is no way he’s ever letting go.
yeah, but imagine Derek and Stiles on a weekend away, and they haven’t had time at home to sleep and rest and take the time to be with each other. so they turn their phones off and tell the rest of the pack they can deal with whatever comes up, and book into a posh hotel with beds that have soft mattresses and Egyptian cotton sheets, and when they get there, they’re so tired they just strip off and fall asleep.
but when they wake up —
Stiles wakes up first, like he does at home, and heads over to the mini kitchen at the other end of the room, leaving Derek to sleep because Derek gets super grumpy when he’s woken up before he wants to be. (secretly Stiles thinks that explains everything about Derek’s interactions when they first met) he sits on one of the cosy chairs in the corner and watches Derek; how he snuffles into his pillow, his body limp, his feet sticking out the end of the blankets.
and then when Derek wakes up, he reaches across the bed for Stiles and gets a little wrinkle between his brow when he realises he’s not there, but he rolls over onto his back and blinks up at the ceiling. he can smell coffee and Stiles, and there’s no obnoxious alarm going off and — he sits up, getting to his knees when he sees Stiles, and he yawns, stretching out the kinks in his neck and shoulders, knowing that Stiles’ eyes are on him.
and that’s all Stiles can take because he drains the last of his coffee and launches himself at Derek, and Derek catches him, steadies them until he can lay Stiles down, until he can stretch over Stiles and kiss him softly, tasting the coffee in Stiles’ mouth.
they’ve got all the time in the world, and Derek loves knowing that. it’s slow, lazy handjobs in bed. it’s Derek pushing Stiles against the shower wall and rimming him until they almost fall over. it’s putting robes on and ordering room service and eating together with easy conversation and Stiles running his hand up Derek’s thigh because he can, because touching is a comfort, because skin on skin contact is always the thing that settles Derek, no matter where they are.
and then later it’s fucking with the balcony doors open, the sound of the waves outside coming in, the cool sea breeze washing over them as they kiss and lick and fuck and hold each other close.
okay but Derek and Stiles on a road trip, with shabby hotel/motel rooms and diners and goofy tourist gifts for their friends. Stiles with his shoes off and his feet out the window as Derek drives. Derek singing along softly to the mixes Stiles made for the trip. Exploring parts of the country they never thought they’d live long enough to see.
And then — then at night, heading back to wherever they’re staying, undressing and fucking on the couch, fucking in the bathroom, on the floor, on the bed. Taking it slow, taking it fast, and everything inbetween. Laying together afterwards, dotting kisses on warm skin, laughing about nothing and everything.
Taking the time to be themselves with each other. Stiles wearing Derek’s shirts and Derek stealing Stiles’ beanies. Letting the days go by as they send updates back home, checking in and making sure everyone knows they’re safe.
Waking up with each other every morning and Stiles being amused each time Derek winces at the sunlight hitting his eyes. Stiles sneaking out for coffee and coming back to cuddles from a grumpy Derek who totally noticed he was gone.
And the sex is important to them, it really is, but sometimes being naked together is about the comfort, the touches, the knowledge that they’re totally at ease with each other.
And on the last night before they head back into Beacon County, Derek kisses the side of Stiles’ head and says “move in with me,” and Stiles smiles at the ceiling, searching for Derek’s hand and squeezing. There’s only one answer he can give.
Hey, sweetheart. The depression/insomnia combo is horrible. I don’t know if it will work for you but earlier this year I stumbled upon ASMR videos. I know some people find them weird but they really helped me when it came to getting to sleep. In the mean time, I hope this little fic does something to help.
Stiles thought being able to sleep after the Nogitsune had been the universe’s way of balancing out the good and bad in his life: get possessed by a psychotic Japanese fox but sleep like a baby every night after. As it turned out, being able to sleep after a spirit uses your body to murder a bunch of people came down to the fact Stiles hadn’t had a break since finding Laura Hale’s body that night in the woods.
He believed joining the academy would be a fresh start, and in many ways it was. He just didn’t count on the fact that now he didn’t have pure evil trying to kill him at every waking moment that his brain would finally find time to process it. Stiles had always been a fan of ignoring his problems until they eventually, just, go away; watching his friends die, looking down at his own body and knowing it wasn’t really his but the cardboard cutout left behind by the Nogitsune, the memory of watching Derek almost –
He assumed – stupidly – that he had been successful in that particular endeavour. As long as he had his pillow, he was fine. You’re going to be fine. That was what the faceless people of the internet said.Stiles didn’t think “fine” was ever going to be an option for him but he guessed hope was a nice sentiment.
“Insomnia,” Scott said, repeating the word back to him. Stiles could practically hear the concern, loud and clear, ringing through the phone. It instantly made him feel worse. Heaving a sigh, he scrubbed a tired hand down his face. Maybe he shouldn’t have called.
“Yes, insomnia.”
Scott was quiet for several seconds. “Do you have your pillow?” he asked.
“Yes,” Stiles answered. He was currently clutching it to his chest, sprawled out on his bedroom floor. It was 3am, the floor was hard, and if he didn’t get some sleep soon he was going to start crying; the kind of crying he hadn’t done since he was a kid and his mom took ill.
“What about drugs?” Scott suggested. “I could ask my mom-”
“No drugs, Scott.”
“But-”
“I said no drugs, Scott.”
The line went quiet again and Stiles felt his eyes begin to sting. This was a mistake.
“Sorry, man, I have to go.”
He hung up before Scott could respond, deciding he could feel guilty about it later.
~
At the academy, he was on auto-pilot. Luckily, Stiles had come up with some of his best plans during the last four years on little-to-no sleep, so it wasn’t overly obvious to his fellow agents-in-training that he needed several cups on coffee just to get through the day.
It was obvious to someone though. Someone who clearly thought it was their sworn duty to haul Stiles over their shoulder in the middle of his third run to the coffee shop that day and deposit him in the back of their car.
Stiles wanted to protest – he should protest, call for help, maybe? – but he had had his eyes closed when the stranger grabbed him, had been drooling on a statue, leaning against it for moral support, as he had waited for his order.
Plus, the stranger’s arms felt nice.
In the back of his mind, Stiles couldn’t decide if thinking a stranger’s arms felt nice during a potential kidnapping – fuck, please don’t let it be a supernatural kidnapping – was because of his sleep deprived state or if that was just the way he was wired now.
It was only when a door opened and a familiar pair of eyebrows slid into the driver’s seat did Stiles begin to laugh. Hysterically.
“Of course,” he said, shaking his head and pressing his lips against the cool leather interior. Familiar hands strapped him into the his seat. “Of course it’s you, big guy.”
Derek just gave a slight huff and muttered something Stiles couldn’t hear, but it sounded an awful lot like, yeah, I missed you, too.
Stiles laughed again. It was crazy, what your mind came up with when it wasn’t functioning properly.
Stiles had survived high school. And then he’d even survived college and all the unrestricted access to alcohol and young adult freedom that came with it, not to mention the rogue succubus in his second year. He and Derek had finally gotten their act together and admitted they should be together after Derek turned up at Stiles’ dorm in his first year and wolfed out at the scent of other people in the room. Stiles had never slept with them; they were never broad enough in the shoulder, never had clear enough eyes, never the same gentle soul that he was quietly waiting for.
One successful graduation ceremony later, and a wild pack-and-family only party at the new Hale pack house in the preserve, Derek sat with a sleepy headed Stiles on the deck looking out into the forest. He handed over the envelop with the tickets in it wordlessly, just sipping his coffee as Stiles opened it up and comprehended what he was seeing. The exultant outburst that resulted in birds bursting out of the trees, squawking and flying away from the sudden noise, brought a rare grin to Derek’s face.
Stiles had never been out of the country, so Derek took him to Australia. He thought twice about it on the flight, but arriving there and experiencing everything there for the first time with Stiles was one of the best experiences of his life.
The cosy beach bungalow they rented became their little home, their surf lessons stopped being a comedy of errors and became a competition between the two of them, their relationship became indulgent and intimate again after Stiles’ absence at college. No pack responsibilities and no outside obligations meant they could just bask in each others company; in bed, on the beach, across a bowl of perfect tropical fruit, as they watch the full moon sink below the horizon and Derek hides his glowing eyes by nuzzling Stiles’ neck. They don’t stop smiling for the entire month.
Derek books their next trip before they even leave.
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