Sterek AU: where Stiles and Derek get away to enjoy pumpkin- spiced Fall weekend.
“How about this one?” Stiles asks, pointing to a pumpkin.
“The side is flat,” Derek says.
“That one?”
“Too small.” Stiles points to another. “It looks rotten.”
Stiles huffs and crosses his arms. “Look, Goldilocks of Pumpkins, why don’t you pick a pumpkin then?” Stiles taps his foot as he waits. Derek scans the group of pumpkins, then chooses two near the back.
“These.”
“Okay.” Stiles starts walking towards the attendant.
“Aren’t you even going to look at them?” Derek asks.
Stiles shrugs as he hands the lady cash. “They’re pumpkins, dude. You’re the one who was all picky about which ones we got. I just want to carve into them and then leave them on the back porch until around Thanksgiving when they’re molded and rotten.”
“You’re disgusting,” Derek says, holding a large pumpkin in each of his arms. Stiles leans over and kisses his cheek.
“But you love me.”
Derek just grunts.
*
Stiles suddenly stops and darts away to the right. “Ooh! Pumpkin donuts!” Derek hears him yell as he watches Stiles run towards a booth. Derek readjusts the slipping pumpkin in his grip as he trails after him. “I bought you one,” Stiles says through a mouth of donut. He swallows, and points to a bucket. “I also want to bob for apples.”
“That’s so gross,” Derek says, wrinkling his nose.
“Oh, shut up, you eat bunnies,” Stiles says as he cradles the paper bag with the donuts between the pumpkin and Derek’s arm. Stiles moves onto his knees as he grips the side of the barrel. He leans down, his mouth open as he tries to bite into one of the apples. They keep sliding out of his mouth as he bites down. “This is so much easier on TV.”
“It’s not that hard,” Derek says.
“Oh?” Stiles asks, turning around to look at Derek. “Fine then, why don’t you show me how it’s done.”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Derek huffs, his face pinched in a scowl. He sets down the pumpkins and donuts, and gently pushes Stiles out of the way. He leans forward and closes his mouth around the apple, extending his canines slightly to pierce into the fruit. He straightens, apple securely in his mouth. The people around the booth clap, and Stiles shoots him an exasperated eye roll. Derek takes the apple from his mouth and hands it to Stiles with a shit-eating grin.
“I saw what you did there,” Stiles says, biting into the apple. “Cheater McCheaterson.”
“I did no such thing,” Derek says, picking the pumpkins back up.
“Liar.”
Derek smirks, and Stiles slides his hand easily into Derek’s back pocket and offers him the apple.
*
Derek is sprawled in front of the fire in his underwear, his eyes closed as the warmth seeps into his skin. The night is cool, and they’ve created a small nest of blankets around the fire. He opens his eyes when he hears Stiles padding across the floor. Stiles is completely naked, the firelight casting a warm glow across his pale skin. Derek smiles as he watches Stiles lowers himself to the floor, careful not to spill the two steaming mugs in his hand.
“Do you like my Jack-o-lantern?” Stiles asks, glancing over to the fireplace where the two pumpkins are alit on both sides of the hearth. Stiles had tried for a complicated Batman design he found online, but it turned out to look more like an abstract piece of art.
“It’s…different,” Derek says, smiling into his cider. The hot liquid is sweet against his tongue, with a burst of spice. “Oh my god, this is fantastic.”
“My mother’s special recipe,” Stiles says, smiling into his cup distractedly. “She always made it for me and my dad when we carved pumpkins.”
“Mom liked hot chocolate,” Derek said. “But we always ate candy when we carved pumpkins.”
“Do werewolves go trick-or-treating? Did you dress up, or did you just wolf out and pretend?” Stiles grins as he nudges Derek’s calf with his toes.
“Yes, we go trick-or-treating,” Derek rolls his eyes. “How long will it take before you realize I grew up just like you?”
“Just with more hair,” Stiles says before taking a sip from his mug. He glances at the pumpkins. “My pumpkin is ugly.”
“It’s not,” Derek says.
“You must really love me,” Stiles says. “You’re lying to spare my feelings.” Stiles sets his cup down and crawls over to Derek and straddles his lap. He hooks his hands behind his head. “But at least it’s not boring like yours. Triangle eyes and a jagged mouth? Really?”
“Stiles, shut up,” Derek says, leaning forward and kissing him.
His mouth tastes like apples and cinnamon, like pumpkins and fall, like home.
shealwaysreads 