Archive of Our Own

Rolling onto his back and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he only allowed himself a few seconds to force consciousness to take over and then threw his blankets off himself. He winced slightly when the cold air hit his skin and thought maybe sleeping in his shorts hadn’t been his best idea. His blanket had kept him warm enough, but it was the middle of winter, and snowing like crazy outside. 

Which was exactly why he was up at nine in the morning on his first day of vacation. Because snow meant cold, and cold meant the lake froze over, and if the lake froze over it meant he would be there. 

He’d been thrilled when his plane landed yesterday evening and he’d seen how much snow there was on the ground. A lot of people thought California was immune to snow and that it was sunny and bright all the time. But this wasn’t Florida, and while it didn’t necessarily snow every winter in Beacon Hills, California as a whole always had areas that got snow in the winter without fail. 

He loved the snow, but not because of the snow itself. Because of what the snow meant. 

Not wanting to delay too long, since it would be a bit of a moot point to have woken up early only to dawdle, he got dressed relatively quickly, being sure to layer up since he was planning on spending the day outside, and then went to use the bathroom and brush his teeth. Slightly out of order for him, but he was a little excited over what was coming.

And by a little, he meant a lot. A lot excited. Very excited. So much of the excitement right now. 

God, four months had been so long, it may as well have been an eternity. He couldn’t wait to get there, and considering the time, he knew a few people would already be out on the ice, so it wouldn’t take long for him to show up. 

Once he was done in the bathroom, he went back to his room for his phone, wallet and keys, and then made his way downstairs. He could already hear the rest of his family in the kitchen, since they all tended to be early risers. He was the exception, usually waking up well past noon during his time off, but not now. 

Not at the prospect of seeing someone he’s been in love with for probably his whole fucking life. 

Walking into the kitchen, he hadn’t even made it fully through the doorway when a voice spoke up from the table. 

“I win, pay up.” 

“Uh, no. You said he’d be up and out by nine-thirty, and he’s not out yet.” 

“I didn’t say up and out, I said he’d definitely be up by nine-thirty. And it’s not even nine-thirty, so I was still right, pay up.” 

“You didn’t win.” 

“You said he wouldn’t make it out there at all on his first day back, no matter how much snow there was. I won by default because he’s up, so give me my money!” 

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Derek Hale demanded grumpily, his bickering sisters killing his mood just by existing. He walked past the table so he could scrounge up something quick to eat, and found his mother at the stove making breakfast sandwich rollups. 

He loved his mom, those would be easy to eat in the car, and while she was always good at pretending she didn’t know better, Derek knew she was well aware of why he was up so early. 

His sisters did too, but they weren’t as tactful. Or polite. 

“They were betting on how quickly you’d be out of the house to hunt down the Stilinski boy,” his father’s voice said from the table. He was reading something on his iPad while his fork hovered between his plate and his mouth, egg yolk dripping through the tines of his fork and onto his plate. 

“And I was right,” Laura insisted, turning in her seat to look at Derek. “Cora owes me twenty bucks.” 

“Twenty?!” Cora sounded absolutely scandalized. “The bet was ten!” 

“It was twenty!” 

“No it wasn’t!” 

“It was twenty, sweetheart,” his dad said, eyes still on his iPad, which meant he missed the betrayed look Cora shot him for taking sides. 

In his defence, he was distracted, and probably wouldn’t notice he’d done that until well into the day. 

Derek didn’t pay them any mind, instead waiting as his mother carefully wrapped his breakfast in some tinfoil. She reached up to pull his face closer, kissing his cheek, and then held out his food. 

“Dress appropriately, it’s cold out there.” 

Derek nodded, both in thanks and understanding, and then turned to leave the kitchen, his sisters still arguing over how much Cora owed Laura, or if she even owed Laura at all. He wished they’d both stayed at school for the winter holidays, he’d have preferred not to have to deal with them. 

He’d already made sure to layer up while getting dressed, since he knew he’d be out for most of the day, so he just pulled on his boots, a toque and jacket, grabbed a scarf, and hurried out of the house. He wanted to leave before Cora remembered she didn’t have a car and asked him to chauffeur her around. 

He’d preemptively put his skates in the trunk last night after arriving home, so he didn’t have to waste time looking for them now and getting them in the car. He didn’t know if he’d actually skate, but it was never a bad thing to bring them along. 

This happened every year when the lake froze over. The city sent someone out to double-check the integrity of the ice, and if it was safe to skate on, everyone in town would know about it and head out to spend time on the ice. It was free entertainment, after all, and there were always a lot of vendors and local businesses that set up shop in the surrounding area since it was good publicity—not that anything in town needed publicity, since they were so small everyone knew all the major players by now. 

Derek wasn’t really big on skating. He knew how to skate thanks to three years of hockey in middle school, and he went out every single year the lake froze over, but skating wasn’t the real reason he went out to the lake. 

No, the real reason he made his way out there every day whenever the lake was solid enough to skate on was because of a specific brown-haired, amber-eyed Adonis who happened to always work in the small pop-up coffee shop that took up residency near the south side of the lake. 

He didn’t formally work at the coffee shop, but his best friend’s family owned it, so whenever winter came around and she had to go set up at the lake—since profits were good for warm drinks—he always inevitably volunteered to stay with her. After the first year he’d done that—for free, even—his friend’s parents found out and offered to hire him on every time the pop-up shop got set up, and he’d agreed. 

Derek lamented the fact that he and Stiles Stilinski hadn’t gone to the same school, because if they had, he’d have absolutely tried to date him. As it was, he’d never met the guy until that first year his best friend had been sent to man the pop-up shop, which was really only four years ago. 

He would never forget how embarrassing their first interaction had been.

Derek was a good looking man. He knew he was, everyone told him he was, and he spent a majority of his time turning people down or making it clear when they flirted with him that he was not interested. He knew he could have basically anyone he wanted, so he wasn’t caught off-guard very often. 

Enter Stiles, who’d literally looked up from the till when Derek had approached, smiled at him, and asked what he’d like to drink.

Derek froze. 

He did the dumb movie thing where someone looked just—so good, that he legitimately went speechless. He just stared at Stiles like a total creep, and wondered if he was hallucinating. 

Turned out he wasn’t, because Stiles gave him a weird look before long, then looked back at his friend, as if silently asking what to do before awkwardly repeating his question. Derek had managed to blurt out some drink, he didn’t remember what anymore, but ever since that day, he was convinced that love at first sight was real. 

And it fucking sucked. Because Stiles thought he was an absolute idiot. 

Well, no, probably not. He doubted Stiles even remembered him, because it had been years ago, and even though Derek still went to the little shop every day during the entirety of his time back home, Stiles never showed any signs of recognizing him. 

Honestly, he’d been worried that when Stiles went off to university, it meant he wouldn’t come home for the holidays, but thankfully last year, come winter, Stiles was there. 

Thank God. 

He still didn’t know how he’d never run into him before that fateful day. Stiles was the town sheriff’s son, so he was basically a celebrity—small town, and all that. But Derek had never seen him before. He’d heard of him, of course he had, but it wasn’t until he’d made an ass of himself that he’d ever met him. 

And he was looking forward to meeting him again, every day, for the next two weeks. 

Maybe he’d even manage not to make a complete ass of himself this time! 

He’d just pulled onto the road leading into the Preserve where the lake was located when his phone rang. While normally he wouldn’t dare answer it while driving, because his parents would skin him alive if he got caught by the cops, but he was now joining the long line of cars that were waiting for people to direct them to empty lots to park, so he chanced it. 

If he didn’t get a parking spot, he was going to be annoyed, since he’d have to park his car at the grocery store and then walk for twenty minutes. 

Worth it, because Stiles was always worth it, but still! 

Checking his caller ID with a brief glance down, he swiped to answer the call and put it on speaker before setting it down in his lap. 

“Hey, when did you get in?” 

“Last night. I’d ask what you’re up to today, but I suspect I already know the answer.”

“Lake’s frozen, you know I’m going to spend as much time as possible enjoying time on the ice.” 

“Uh huh. And Stiles Stilinski being there has absolutely nothing to do with your strong desire to freeze to death for the next two weeks,” his best friend said dryly. 

“Is Stiles going to be there?” Derek asked, trying for surprised. “I didn’t know he was back in town.” 

“You’re not subtle,” Vernon Boyd informed him. 

“Neither are you, we both know you only called to make sure I was going to be heading out that way.” 

A long pause, and then, “I’ll see you in twenty.”

Boyd hung up, and Derek couldn’t help feeling pretty damn triumphant. 

Because while Derek had a massive crush on Stiles Stilinski, Boyd happened to have a massive crush on Stiles’ best friend, whose parents owned the coffee shop. So if Stiles was there, so was she, which meant Derek knew Boyd would show up before long.

Derek kept telling him to just talk to her, but his friend was stupidly stubborn when it came to things of the heart. It was different for Derek, he didn’t know if Stiles liked men. 

With his luck, Stiles was probably homophobic. 

It seemed to take entirely too long for the line to move forward, but thankfully Derek made it to the officer directing traffic, which meant there were still spots left in one of the lots. The officer motioned for him to keep driving along, so Derek followed the road to the next barricade, and was directed into the lot there. 

Seeing as it was the second lot, he was confident Boyd would get a spot, but he texted him once he was out of the car anyway to warn him about not taking too long. It kind of ruined the whole experience if the day started with a long trek into the Preserve to reach the lake. 

While Derek wouldn’t be able to help him get there if he couldn’t park in one of the lots, at least on the way out he could drop him back off at his car.

Message sent, Derek put his phone away and blew into his hands for a few seconds before pulling on his gloves. He hated that touch screens didn’t like gloves, it made texting in winter an absolute nightmare, especially in New York, where Derek went to school.

It may have been cold in Beacon Hills right now, but New York was far worse. He was glad to be back where the weather was slightly more mild. 

He followed the throng of people who were heading through the snow towards the lake from the parking lot, already anticipating his first interaction with Stiles for the season. He was going to be really annoyed though if Stiles wasn’t around today and he woke up for nothing. 

The walk from the lot to the lake wasn’t far, maybe about five minutes, but the second it came into view, Derek immediately looked around. It seemed to be all the same businesses as usual, but he paid them no mind, instead zeroing in on the one that mattered most. 

He was there. 

Thank God, Derek hadn’t made it all the way out there for nothing. 

He started to reach up to make sure his hair looked sufficiently wind-swept, then realized he was wearing a toque and let his hand fall back down. It felt weird to be so insecure approaching someone, but Derek also acknowledged that he usually didn’t have problems getting what he wanted. This was someone he didn’t know he could have, so it made everything ten times scarier. 

Deciding he’d stalled long enough, he made his way around the lake, people already on the ice and skating around in an orderly circle. Some of them were doing impressive figure skating moves that Derek couldn’t ever hope to name, let alone do, but there were just as many people holding onto their friends for dear life as they were pulled along, scared of falling. 

When he reached the little pop-up coffee shop, there were only two people in front of him. The place wasn’t anything spectacular, just two large tables with various machines connected to a portable generator. They had a large canopy over the entire operation, just in case it snowed, and Stiles was manning the manual till while his best friend made the drinks. 

It wasn’t anything fancy, just regular coffee, lattes and hot chocolate, but it always hit the spot when the weather was cold like this. He could already see a few people milling about with drinks in their hand, all of them sporting the coffee shop’s logo. It really was good for business. 

“Hi,” Stiles said with a brilliant smile, Derek having been distracted staring at him. He hadn’t noticed the other two had been served and left. 

Moving forward quickly, and trying not to feel awkward, he said, “Hi.” 

“What can I get for you?” Stiles asked, still beaming. 

His nose was red, and his scarf went up almost over his mouth in an attempt to cover his chin, but he still looked so fucking gorgeous. And adorable. Adorably gorgeous. Or gorgeously adorable? Hard to say. 

It took him a second to realize Stiles had asked him a question, and he was just standing there staring at him, like a fucking weirdo. 

“A drink,” he blurted out stupidly. “A hot one.” 

Stiles let out a small laugh. Had it been awkward? Was that an awkward laugh? Shit, why was he so bad at this?! 

“Well, lucky for you, hot drinks is all we have on the menu.” He tapped at the laminated page taped to the table beside the till, which showed the drinks available. Usually it was only the three drinks, but they’d added green tea this year. Probably because of people complaining, since that seemed to be all people did these days. 

“Right.” Derek looked down at the list, as if it were a huge decision and there were too many options. He just didn’t really want this conversation to end too quickly, despite recognizing they weren’t really having a conversation. 

Evidently, he was standing there for too long, because Stiles eventually said, “Between you and me, the hot chocolate is the way to go if you can’t decide.” 

“Sure.” Derek was going to be miserable having sugar this early in the morning, he should’ve just asked for a coffee. Too late now, though. 

Stiles rang him through, and Derek handed over some cash. He’d taken some out at the airport last night, wanting to be absolutely sure he’d have some for the morning. None of the businesses by the lake took anything but cash, for obvious reasons. While Stiles and his friend had the portable generator, it was really just for the drinks. 

It didn’t take Stiles long to count out his change and hand it back, his friend having put the hot chocolate down on the table in front of Derek. 

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for it while pocketing the rest of his money. 

“Have fun out there!” Stiles beamed at him. 

Derek just nodded awkwardly, lingered for an additional second, then lost his nerve on what he was about to say and turned on his heel to walk off. 

Why was it so hard?! He’d never had this much trouble with someone he was interested in before, why was Stiles different?! 

He hated that Stiles was different and made him all weird and tongue-tied. He felt like an absolute fucking loser. 

And even worse, he realized as he walked closer to the lake that—he’d forgotten his skates in the car. 

Great, now he had to go back and get them.

Oh well, at least it gave him an excuse to drink his hot chocolate, even though it wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted. 

Turning back towards the trail, even as more people emerged, joking and laughing, he made his way back towards the lot while sipping at his hot drink.

If nothing else, it would help keep his insides warm, even if the sugar gave him a massive headache later. 

“Have fun out there!” Stiles Stilinski flashed his biggest, brightest smile at the doom and gloom man standing in front of him in the hopes of getting some kind of movement from his lips. Even if he just quirked one of them, that was better than nothing. Hell, he’d take a smarmy smirk, just—anything! 

Alas, no dice. The guy just nodded once in thanks, seemed to hesitate—he’d probably been about to do that embarrassing ‘you too!’ thing people did to customer service all the time—and then turned and walked away. 

As he did so, the million watt smile on Stiles’ face slid off and he sighed, letting out a groan once he was sure the other man was too far to hear him and draping himself across the till, resting his cheek against one arm as he watched the man of his dreams walk away from him.

Again. 

Thankfully there weren’t any other patrons waiting for caffeine, so it allowed Stiles to watch him walk all the way to the lake, pause, and then turn away. Stiles had noticed he didn’t have a bag with him, which meant he’d probably forgotten his skates in his car. Stiles was positive he would do that all the time himself if he had ever come out this way to actually skate. 

Hopefully the guy was parked in one of the lots and not out past the Preserve, because that would suck. Considering the amount of people present, Stiles was pretty sure the guy was parked closer than that. 

“You’re pathetic,” his best friend informed him, rather rudely, from behind him. 

“Don’t kill the vibe,” he warned, still watching the other man’s retreating form until he was out of sight in the trees. He straightened once he had nothing left to ogle and jumped on the spot for a few seconds to warm up a little. 

They usually had some little space heaters to keep warm, but the generator had conked out multiple times last year because of it, so they weren’t going to use it unless it was absolutely arctic out. For now, he was surviving with all the layers he had on, but he knew he’d start complaining before long. 

He always did, complaining was like, his favourite hobby. If it were an Olympic sport, he’d always win gold. 

His best friend moved to lean back against the table the till was on, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow at him. Stiles turned his head to look at her, arching an eyebrow right back. 

“Just talk to him,” Erica Reyes insisted, giving him an annoyed look.

“Uh, were you not paying attention? I was talking to him. Had a whole conversation and everything.” 

The next look he got was unimpressed. 

“I’m gonna dump a pot of hot coffee over your head.” 

“And if you choose to do that, just a reminder for you, that’s assault,” Stiles informed her. 

“Only if you can prove I did it on purpose.” 

“Considering how short you are, accidentally dumping it over my head would be pretty suspicious.”

Stiles let out a yelp and jerked away from Erica when she kicked his shin, but he just grinned at her while putting more distance between them so she couldn’t retaliate further. 

Erica wasn’t short by any stretch of the imagination, but she was still shorter than Stiles, and he liked reminding her of that. It was her own fault for teasing him in middle school when she’d been taller than him. Luckily his growth spurt had hit in high school and he never passed up on the opportunity to remind her he was taller than her. 

Revenge was a dish best served cold, after all, and it was absolutely freezing out. 

They had to behave when someone else walked up to their little operation and Stiles took their order and money while Erica poured the drinks. He always insisted it would be more profitable if they actually had a variety of items, but Erica was always the one doing the drink pouring and had threatened him with more bodily harm than normal if she had to make super complicated drinks to a line-up of grumpy, cold skaters. 

Stiles conceded her point, since he couldn’t even make anything himself. The stuff they sold during the skating season was simple enough even he could do it, since it was just about pouring something into a cup, but if things got more complicated, he’d definitely struggle, so probably for the best no one listened to him. 

Considering what time it was, there were already quite a few people out, and Stiles knew when another lot had gotten filled because a small crowd emerged from the trees, most of them making a beeline for their table.

Thankfully, since it was still early, most people weren’t cold yet and thus were in good spirits and not grumpy—except his future husband, of course, who seemed perpetually grumpy—but he knew as the day progressed that would change. 

People always eventually got grumpy from the cold, but were too stubborn to leave. 

He’d just about finished with the small crowd that had appeared when he noticed movement by the trees once more. His future husband was on his way back over with a bag over one shoulder, and he was bringing Erica’s crush along with him. 

“Erica,” Stiles said simply, still counting out the change for the person in front of him. 

He saw her straighten out of his peripheral vision immediately and she fluffed her visible curls a little, moving her hair around to make sure it looked good despite the hat she was wearing. 

When it was clear the pair were making their way over to them, Erica waited for Stiles to finish with the person in front of him and then hip-checked him aside. He hip-checked her back but obediently turned to grab a cup so he could pour the next customer’s drink. 

Stiles had already gotten a chance to speak to his crush, so it was only fair Erica got to speak to hers. 

She had to help two other customers before it was his turn, but Stiles knew even without turning when he was up because Erica’s voice got all low and husky. 

“Hi there.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes at how obvious she was, but the guy never seemed to clue in, if his lack of actually doing anything about it was anything to go by. Then again, maybe he was taken. 

“Good morning.”

“It is good, isn’t it? Such a nice day, perfect skating weather.” 

“I agree.” Stiles could hear the smile in the guy’s voice, and glanced over his shoulder slightly to look at him. He really was attractive, in his own way, but Stiles’ type was more the grumpy friend he had standing beside him with his arms crossed. It looked like he’d finished his drink, because he wasn’t holding it anymore. 

Mr. Grump had been scowling at the back of Stiles’ head, it seemed, because he hastily averted his gaze when he noticed Stiles turn. Maybe the drink had been bad and he was blaming Stiles for recommending it. 

Whoops. 

“Sure thing, coming right up.” 

Stiles’ eyes shot to Erica’s back, because he hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t know what he was meant to be pouring out. Instead of asking her, like a normal person, he watched her count out change for the ten she was handed and ascertained he’d asked for coffee. 

Turning back to the machine, he poured a fresh cup into the takeaway cup, slapped a lid on it, and turned to set it down beside the till, offering a smile. 

“Milk and sugar are here,” he said, motioning the other end of the table. 

“Thank you.” 

He moved out of the way and Stiles expected his friend to do the same since he obviously didn’t need another drink, but he moved right up to the till, eyes on Stiles, and spoke. 

“Coffee. Black.” 

Erica looked startled, but Stiles just stared back at him for a moment. Apparently he was upset about the hot chocolate, damn. 

“Oh, sure thing.” He offered him a brilliant smile and turned to pour him a cup as well. He did notice his friend side-eye Mr. Grump, as if wanting to call him out on how curt that had been, but Stiles didn’t worry about it. It was his bad for maybe rushing the guy. 

Once the drink was poured, he slapped a lid on it and turned to hand it over. Erica waved away the guy’s money, insisting it was fine since he’d literally just gotten something. He scowled at that, as if unhappy to be getting a freebie—which was weird, but whatever—and then took the cup from Stiles’ hand. 

Then he turned without a word, his friend offering them both a quiet thanks before following. 

“I do not get that man,” Erica said with a sigh. 

“I know, isn’t it exhausting being so grumpy all the time?” Stiles asked with a snort, leaning back against the table the till was on. 

“What?” She turned to him. “I was talking about Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. I mean, I’m not subtle, how is he missing what I’m putting down?” 

“You could just ask him out,” Stiles said, rolling his head to the side to smirk at her, throwing her own words back at her. 

Something she obviously didn’t appreciate, because she smacked him for saying something so ridiculous and he laughed, pushing off the table. It had it jerked slightly from the action and Erica hastily grabbed the edge to make sure the table didn’t flip. Stiles dove for the milk, but thankfully it righted itself without his help. 

Turning a sheepish look on his friend, Erica just rolled her eyes and moved away from the till so he could go back to helping people instead of her. 

“You’re so clumsy, why do I even put up with you?” 

“Because you love me, and I am an absolute pleasure to be around.” 

“Uh huh. So pleasant that your future husband scowls the whole time he’s in your presence.” 

Stiles let out an over-exaggerated gasp and slapped one hand to his chest. “Low blow.” 

Erica blew him a kiss and he pretended to duck under it. That just had her grab snow off the ground when he was busy helping another customer and shove it down the back of his jacket. 

It was a good thing most people were used to their crazy antics, because no one ever batted an eye as the two of them started a mini snowball fight behind the table, even as they continued to help customers and serve drinks. 

Probably habit, honestly. This happened basically every year, so people had just grown accustomed to having Stiles and Erica turn into children while they were working. Stiles kind of liked that about this town, people were super chill about most things. 

Not to say they didn’t have assholes, because again, as the day progressed, people got really grumpy, but at least in the morning hours most people tended to just find their little fights endearing. 

Despite the cold, Stiles always had a good time out here with Erica. For one thing, he got to spend time with his best friend, for another, he got to stare at his future husband as the man skated circles on the lake. He was a really good skater, as far as Stiles could tell. He didn’t do any of the fancy moves the more agile skaters did, but it was clear he’d been skating for years. 

It was always fun to people watch, too. A lot of people tended to come out, and a lot of them knew Stiles because of his dad. Disadvantage of being the son of the town sheriff. 

Also didn’t help he was kind of a troublemaker in his youth. 

And like, last year. Really, he was a kid at heart. 

The day passed by fairly uneventfully. Stiles got a visit from his future husband an additional two times throughout the day, ordering coffee again both times. Clearly he was not a lover of chocolate. 

When it started to get a bit darker around four, the city officials who were in charge of keeping things safe and orderly around the lake announced that it was time to call it a day. There weren’t any lights set up in the area, and when the sun set, it set quickly and it was dangerous having people out this way in the dark. 

As soon as people started coming off the ice, most of them just made a beeline for the trees to head back to their cars, but a few went around to the various business booths to get some last minute food or drinks. The hot dog stand had a massive line-up, probably because most people didn’t want to make dinner when they got home after a long day out on the lake. 

They got a few people coming their way, and Stiles was pretty glad to see his future husband and Erica’s crush heading for them as well. They were closer to the back, which meant they’d probably be their final customers. 

Getting through the line quickly, Stiles gave his most brilliant smile when the God of a man moved up to the till. 

“Hi,” he said cheerfully, like he always did—even though it elicited zero response from the guy. “Did you have fun?” 

“It’s too cold,” was the clipped response he got. That was followed by a scowl, and his friend side-eyed him again. 

“Oh. Well, at least you’re heading out to some warmth, right? You’ll be nice and toasty in no time.” 

He didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he just grunted that he wanted a tea this time, and waved for his friend to order as well so they could get out of there. His friend got a hot chocolate, and Erica set both drinks down while Stiles counted out their change. 

“Thanks for steeping by,” Stiles said pleasantly. He just got a weird look for that—it was a tea pun, come on!—and the two men turned away from them to head for the trees. 

Stiles’ smile slid off his face the second they weren’t facing him anymore and he resisted the urge to groan and drape himself across the till like he had that morning. 

“Smooth,” Erica snickered from beside him. 

“Shut up,” he muttered. “That was a good one, not my fault they didn’t get it.” 

“It was one of your better ones, not gonna lie.” She patted his shoulder sympathetically and he batted her away with one hand. 

She got started unplugging all the machines they had and organizing everything so they could carry it all back to her van—not in one trip, sadly, but they’d perfected doing it in two. Stiles always thought it was annoying having to break the pop-up stand down every day only to set it right back up the following day, but they couldn’t leave stuff out like this overnight. 

They got to work breaking everything down, and then piled half of the items onto one of the collapsed tables. Stiles grabbed one end, and Erica grabbed the other, then they made their way through the trees slowly and carefully to not accidentally drop the table until they reached the closest lot. Erica had to use her hip to keep her end of the table upright while she unlocked the van and pulled the back open. They got the one table into it on one side, and then went back to grab the second one with the last of the items. 

Calling goodbye to the other people breaking down their areas, they left with the second table between them, shoving it into the back beside the first one and Erica shutting the trunk. 

“You got plans tonight?” Erica asked, moving around to the driver’s door while Stiles walked backwards towards his Jeep. 

“Dinner with dad, free after though.” 

“Wanna grab a movie around eight?” 

“Sure.” He grinned at her. “Dealer’s choice, I’ll meet you at the theatre at eight.” 

She waved in acknowledgement and climbed behind the wheel. Stiles turned to head for his own car, opening the driver’s side door and climbing in. He watched Erica leave in the rear view mirror, then started the car and headed out moments later. 

It was still early for dinner, and he knew his dad wouldn’t be ready to eat yet, so he headed home first, not sure what he’d do once he got there yet. Warm up, for sure, because man was he cold. But it had been a good day overall, despite the cold. And it wasn’t as cold as last year, damn had that sucked super hard. 

Plus, his future husband showed up like he did every year, so Stiles had nothing to complain about—despite the fact that he would. Constantly. Just, all the complaining, it was his thing. 

Once he arrived home, he debated taking a shower for all of ten seconds before deciding he was too lazy. Instead he just grabbed his blanket off his bed and wrapped it around himself once he was settled in front of his TV and played a random game while he waited for time to pass. 

He was just thinking about heading out to meet with his dad, since it was close to six by now, when his phone rang. The distinct ringtone he’d set for all his contacts informed him it was Erica before he even answered the call, bringing it to his ear and scowling when his character got hit on screen by an absolute bullshit hitbox. 

“What’s up?” 

“So you’re paying for my movie tonight, and my popcorn, and basically anything else I want until midnight as a thank you.” 

Stiles arched an eyebrow at this and paused his game, putting his controller down and holding the phone properly so it wasn’t against his ear and shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall making this arrangement with you. Why, pray tell, am I going to be your sugar daddy for the rest of the day?”

“I went to the diner after dropping everything off at the shop. I was feeling a little hungry and wanted to grab a bite without having to make myself dinner at home.”

“Naturally,” Stiles said, because he himself was going out with his dad. No way was he making food right now, he was so tired from the long day.” 

“Well, while I’m sitting there eating a salad—”

“You’ve never eaten a salad in your life, don’t lie to me.”

“While I’m sitting there eating a salad,” Erica stressed, “guess who walks in and sits in the booth in front of me.”

Stiles’ eyebrows slowly rose once more. “My future husband?”

“And mine. Together. They get seated, and your grumpy boyfriend is facing me. Not sure if he recognized me or not, but if he did, he didn’t acknowledge me at all.”

“Okay,” Stiles said slowly. “And why does them sitting in front of you mean I owe you for the evening?” 

He could practically hear Erica’s grin down the line, and he froze at her next words. “Well, do you want his name, or not?”

“Wait, you got his name?!” Stiles demanded, jerking to his feet, his blanket sliding off his shoulders. “Like, for real? You’re not shitting me?” 

“I got both their names,” she said, sounding positively delighted. Which made sense, because she’d had a crush on her guy for literal years, like, middle school or something. Stiles had only started liking his four years ago when he’d first seen him at the lake. “My future husband’s name is Boyd.”

“Huh. Good name, suits him somehow.” 

“Right?” She was definitely grinning. “Well?”

Stiles knew what she was waiting for, and sadly, he also knew she was petty enough to hold out on him out of spite. She wanted her sugar daddy for the night, and Stiles wasn’t going to get the name out of her unless he consented. 

“Fine,” he said on a deep sigh. “Fine, I’ll pay for your movie and the popcorn.” 

“And anything else I want for the rest of the night.”

“Within moderation. You go buying some Luis Vitton shit, and I’m bowing out.” 

“I’m not heartless, Stiles. Give me some credit here.” That was a clear eye roll. “But, we have a deal.”

“Great.” He waited. “So? What is it?” 

“You don’t wanna guess?”

“Erica, I know where you live, and that you’re a heavy sleeper, don’t test me.”

“As a reminder, murder is a crime.”

“So is stupidity, a wonder you’re not locked up yet.” 

“Do you want the name or not? Because my feelings are hurt now.”

Stiles sighed dramatically. “I apologize, my wonderful, lovely, gorgeous, phenomenal friend, who is the best person I know and my platonic soulmate, and the kindest, most benevolent and generous person I know.” 

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a haughty sniff. “I suppose I can show you pity.”

“Too bad my wallet can’t say the same.”

Erica was true to her word though, and instead of retaliating for that last comment, she finally gave him what he wanted. “His name is Derek.”

Derek. He didn’t really look like a Derek, but Stiles supposed it suited him pretty all right. He’d never met any Dereks before, and he was thrilled at that fact because it meant no one would taint the sanctity of his future husband by having ruined an experience with the same name in the past. 

“Derek,” he repeated. “I like it. Rolls off the tongue nice and easy.” 

“Definitely better than Mieczyslaw,” Erica teased. 

“I had no control over my name,” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at his phone. “I had absolutely no say in the matter. I was born, and it was given to me, not my fault.” 

Erica just hummed, but he knew she was grinning. She never passed up the opportunity to mock him for his name, because he couldn’t pronounce it when he was little, let alone spell it. 

Fair was fair, he teased her about their height. 

“Anyway, that was all I had for you. I’ll see you at eight.”

“Thanks for sharing.”

“Sharing is caring,” she called, kissed into the receiver loudly, and hung up. 

Stiles pulled the phone away from his ear, staring down at it. 

“Derek, huh?” he asked no one in particular, a small smile forming on his face. 

It was exciting finally having a name. 

It was a tea joke. 

Derek had realized it while lying in bed, ready to fall asleep, that Stiles’ parting words were a fucking tea joke. 

And he’d just stared at him like he was a psychopath before walking away. 

It had been a good one, too! Derek liked puns, they were fun, and while he was terrible at them, he appreciated when people let one out because they were always good for a small chuckle. 

It had been a fucking tea pun and he’d missed it! 

God, Stiles probably thought he was an absolute piece of shit who didn’t have a humourous bone in his entire body. This was the absolute worst. He might as well throw himself off a bridge right now. 

Why was it so hard to talk to him?! Even Boyd insisted he came across as rude whenever he spoke to Stiles. He didn’t mean to, he just... it was different. Stiles was someone he actually liked. Everyone else was easy to talk to because Derek didn’t have any opinions on them. Sure, some of them were attractive, and he’d dated a few people who’d hit on him in the past, but that was the difference. 

They hit on him. Stiles was probably the first person Derek had ever looked at and decided he wanted himself as opposed to it being the other way around. Which was definitely why he got all weird and tongue-tied whenever they were together. 

Why couldn’t this be easier? Why couldn’t he be normal around him? Boyd did just fine with the blonde. Sure, he was quiet, but Boyd was always quiet. At least he didn’t look like a serial killer or speak in clipped tones. 

This was the worst, Derek never wanted to see Stiles ever again. Except he did. 

Like, a lot. 

Which was why he was sitting in his car in one of the lots while staring at the trees, trying to convince himself going back out there wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Stiles probably wouldn’t even remember him. Like, he saw so many people in a day, he’d probably completely forgotten by now that he’d made a pun in parting and Derek had just stared at him. 

Except maybe not? Shit, Derek was going to angst about this for days, he knew it. 

He’d texted with Boyd that morning, and had decided he was not going back in there on his own, and was going to wait for him to show up so he at least had some support. He’d offered to pick him up, but Boyd had to run errands for his grandmother before the end of the day, so he’d be bailing early, and thus it was better for him to have his own car.

According to his last text, he was a few cars away from being directed into the Preserve. Derek himself was in the first lot, and since Boyd hadn’t been too far behind him, he’d probably be in the second, maybe the third. They were going to meet in the treeline so Derek could try and pretend he wasn’t absolutely dreading seeing Stiles. 

While also extremely excited. It was a weird mix of feelings, really. 

Since he had nothing better to do while he waited, Derek opened up Google and searched for coffee-related puns, just so he could make one in parting to show Stiles he understood now what he’d been saying yesterday.

Some of them were pretty funny. A few of them were horrible, though. He found one he kind of liked, and it worked well for him as the customer, so he read it over and over again to commit it to memory—never mind it was only three words, he was nervous!—and saw a message come through from Boyd. 

Sighing in defeat, Derek opened his door and climbed out, being sure to remember to grab his skates this time, and then shut it behind himself, locking up. 

He walked through the trees, following the path of other people who’d arrived at the same time as him, but hadn’t procrastinated in the car for twenty minutes. The footsteps were a little less prominent since it had started snowing quite heavily in the early hours of the morning and hadn’t let up yet. Derek blinked snowflakes off his eyelashes while moving between two trees and coming out on the other side. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the little pop-up coffee stand, and even from here he could see Stiles jumping up and down while hugging himself, clearly cold. 

He imagined it got cold for all the people working out here, since they weren’t moving around to keep warm. He hoped he didn’t get sick. 

Forcing himself to scan the trees in search of Boyd, he caught sight of his friend just as Boyd did the same, the two of them converging on each other to meet in the middle. Boyd eyed him briefly, as if checking him for psychic damage over the realization he’d had—which he’d texted him about at two in the morning while lying awake dying over it—but Derek just stared back at him.

He didn’t fool him though, and Boyd just shook his head with a small laugh and patted Derek’s shoulder, then walked past him. Derek turned to follow obediently, the two of them making their way towards the blonde girl and Stiles. 

There was a bit of a longer line today, probably because a few people had opted to walk in—and Derek had been waiting in his car for twenty minutes—but he didn’t mind having a few bodies to hide behind while he tried not to show how embarrassed he felt. 

Should he even say something? A part of him wanted to apologize to Stiles and insist he hadn’t understood the pun until later in the evening, but he didn’t want Stiles to think he was an idiot. He’d only missed the pun because he always got all discombobulated when around the other man, so really, it was Stiles’ fault he’d missed it. 

When they were next in line, Derek shouldered Boyd in front of him, wanting him to go first. Not procrastinating, of course not. He was just being a good friend. Good friends always let their friends go first. Clearly. It was definitely a thing. 

“Morning!” Stiles said to Boyd, just as cheerfully as always. His cheeks were red, and Derek could see every exhale in the cold air, so he hoped Stiles had bundled up well today. He had a toque and scarf on again, and fingerless gloves—probably to help count out money—so he seemed to be okay, but still. 

“Morning,” Boyd replied easily. “Can I please have a coffee?” 

“Sure thing, four dollars please.” 

Derek watched as the blonde girl got his coffee ready and then smiled just as brightly as Stiles did while handing it over to Boyd. 

“Here you go. I hope it hits the spot and isn’t too bitter for you.” 

“Thank you. Have a good day.” 

“You too!” 

God, how did Boyd make it look so easy?! Like, he was in love with this girl, and he talked to her like they were old friends! Or, at the very least, polite acquaintances. 

Derek couldn’t even manage a polite greeting. 

“Good morning!” 

He tensed and shot his gaze back to Stiles, who was beaming at him like he always did. Derek forced himself to move forward. Stiles didn’t remember yesterday, there was no reason for him to be embarrassed. Everything was fine, it was all perfectly fine. 

“What can I get for you?” Stiles asked pleasantly. 

“Coffee.” He saw Boyd turn his head slightly out of the corner of his eye and managed to force out, “Please.” 

At least he remembered his ‘please’ today. He knew he’d managed a ‘thanks’ yesterday during one of his purchases, but honestly didn’t think he’d said it any of the other times. 

God, he really did turn into an asshole around Stiles, no wonder the guy didn’t notice him. 

“Sure thing. I can tell you need your caffeine, I’m like that, too. I’m basically a zombie before my first coffee of the day. Pays to be best friends with someone whose family owns a coffee shop, means I can be caffeinated at all hours of the day.” He offered Derek a wink while the girl behind him poured him a coffee. 

Derek didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just nodded awkwardly. He hated that the smile on Stiles’ face faltered for just a split second, but before he could even pretend to think up something else to say, Stiles continued. 

“That’ll be four dollars, please.” 

Derek handed over a five dollar bill, and Stiles passed back the change. He wished they had a tip jar so he could tip him to show he wasn’t being an asshole, but alas, they did not. 

The blonde girl handed the coffee to Stiles instead of bringing it over herself. It looked like she was fiddling with one of the coffee machines with her other hand, so maybe something had gone wrong. 

Stiles took the drink easily and held it out to Derek, still smiling brightly. 

“Here you go.” 

Derek nodded once, reaching for it, all while reminding himself over and over again in his head to thank him with the pun. This was it, this was the moment for him. Stiles would realize he’d understood the pun from yesterday, and would laugh, and Derek would feel relieved, and everything would be great. 

His hand closed around the cup and he said, “Thanks for the latte.” 

Fuck.

Fuck! 

Stiles looked startled, eyes dipping down to the drink Derek was now holding, and then back up. “Sorry, did you—I thought you wanted a coffee, did you want a latte?” 

“No.” Derek turned his back on him and walked away, resisting the urge to just head straight back to his car to drive off a cliff. 

Thanks a latte! The fucking pun was thanks a latte! Not thanks for the latte! Fuck! How had he messed it up so fucking badly?! It was three words! 

“That went well,” Boyd said, catching up with him. Derek just reached out to punch him hard in the arm without even looking. Boyd cursed, but didn’t retaliate. 

“I was trying to pun him back,” Derek muttered. 

“What were you trying to say?” 

“Thanks a latte.” 

Boyd just grunted his understanding, blowing slightly at his coffee since he’d taken the lid off, and then took a careful sip. “There’s always next time,” he insisted supportively. 

“I’m planning on moving away and changing my name,” Derek muttered. 

“Probably wouldn’t need to change your name, I don’t think he knows it.” 

“Thanks, that makes me feel much better,” he said dryly, turning to level Boyd with an annoyed look. 

His friend just shrugged. “Honestly, I think it’s kind of a relief to see you stumble like this. I was worried your good looks were going to your head with how you always act around people who fawn all over you. Having you be all nervous and tongue-tied around him proves you’re actually human like the rest of us.” 

“How do you do it?” he asked, the two of them stopping by the edge of the lake. It was littered with bags of shoes, since most people put their skates on at the edge of the lake and left their shoes behind. Derek and Boyd did the same thing, no one ever stole anybody else’s shoes, it was kind of a weird thing to steal. 

“Do what?” Boyd asked, taking another sip of his coffee. 

“Talk to her so easily.” 

“It’s not easy,” Boyd insisted, putting his lid back on so he could sip at his drink through the small hole in the lid instead. “But I really like her, so I want to try and make an effort. The more I talk to her, the more of a chance I have to see if maybe we can grab a drink sometime.” 

That made sense, but Derek wasn’t good at things like that. Boyd might be quiet most of the time, but he was actually capable of having a conversation with someone. Derek couldn’t people well. He did his best, but he almost always put his foot in his mouth and people thought he was rude. 

He was just grateful to have a friend like Boyd who understood him well enough to know he wasn’t being rude, he was just awkward. 

“You’ll get there.” Boyd slapped him in the arm encouragingly. “Just give it time.” 

“It’s been four years.” 

Boyd very wisely didn’t say anything in response to that. 

Stiles wondered if skating was really that fun. He wouldn’t know, seeing as he could hardly walk without falling over, he wasn’t exactly eager to try skating. He’d never once tried to go out onto the ice, and his father always teased him about how that was probably a good call. 

But skating must be fun, right? It had to be, otherwise they wouldn’t have so many people always eager to come out this way. Both his and Erica’s future husbands came out literally every day, so there had to be something about it that was entertaining. It had been five days since Stiles had been working here, and the two of them had shown up every day. 

He didn’t see it though. It was just people going around in circles on the lake. Sure, some of them were holding hands, and for kids it was probably cool to just slide along the ice like that, but there were always so many people and he didn’t really get it. He’d probably feel differently if he was actually out there but as it stood now, he didn’t get it. 

Handing out the change to the customer who’d just ordered a latte, Erica moved to set it on the table beside the till, and they both cheerfully called farewell to the man walking away, sipping at his warm drink. 

“So you won’t believe what just happened,” Erica said once the man was out of sight. 

“I’m still convinced dragons are real, but feel free to try me,” Stiles said in response. 

Erica didn’t deem that worthy of a response and just said, “We’re out of coffee.” 

“What?” Stiles turned to look at their machines incredulously. “How are we out of coffee? We’re never out of coffee. We’ve never been out of coffee!” 

“More people ordering coffee, I guess.” Erica shrugged. “I need to run out to the shop to grab some more, you okay to man the fort? I think I have a whiteboard in the van, we can just make a sign about how we’ve got tea and hot chocolate for now, and I’ll be back with the coffee shortly.” 

Stiles saluted her formally. “I shall defend the castle with my life, m’lady!” 

“See that you do, or I’ll kill you,” she said pleasantly, offering him a smile. He stuck his tongue out at her as she rushed away towards the van, presumably to grab said whiteboard. If she forgot, he’d just explain the situation to people. If they got pissy about it, well they could just go into town for their coffee. He wasn’t going to pull it out of his ass just because they were grumpy.

Thankfully, Erica came back with a whiteboard and pen before hurrying away again. Stiles got to work making a fun sign about how they were out of coffee—complete with crying coffee beans pictures—but that more was coming soon, and that hot chocolate and tea were both still available.

He got the sign set up in a visible place almost right in front of the till, and was glad when the people who approached were cool about it and ordered one of the other two items. 

With how many of them wanted hot chocolate, Stiles texted Erica a warning to maybe bring more of that back too so they didn’t run out. 

His future husband, Derek, didn’t come over at all while Erica was gone, but Stiles straightened slightly when he noticed Erica’s beau heading right for him. His name was Boyd, if he recalled correctly, and seeing the man heading over to him alone, while Stiles himself was alone, made a thought occur to him. 

Erica would kill him. Like, flay the skin from his bones, and then use said bones as toothpicks. She would bury him alive, or throw him into the industrial oven they had at the coffee shop, or cut his brakes, or any other number of horrible things. Stiles would be an absolute dead man if he did this, and he knew it. 

But he was also a good friend, and good friends helped their friends get laid, and Erica had had a crush on this guy since middle school. Ever since she’d come to watch Stiles sit on the bench at one of his soccer games and seen Boyd on the opposing team. She’d liked this guys for literal years, and Stiles couldn’t in good conscience pass up this golden opportunity. 

She’d thank him for this later. 

Or murder him, jury was still out. 

“Hi,” he said cheerfully as Boyd approached. 

“Hello,” he said, eyes shifting to the sign in front of the till. “Out of coffee?” 

“Yup, but more should be coming soon.” 

“I’m fine with a hot chocolate, if you still have that left.” 

“For now,” Stiles confirmed, turning to grab a cup so he could get him his drink. “Six dollars, please.” 

He slapped a lid onto it when he was done and turned to Boyd, exchanging the drink for the cash. It was exactly six dollars, so the man thanked him and started to turn away when Stiles called him back. 

“Hey wait a second.” 

Boyd paused, half turned from him, and eyed him briefly. 

“Super weird question, but are you single?” 

The flurry of expressions that crossed his face in the span of two seconds was kind of astonishing to Stiles. Surprise, then horror, then discomfort, then sadness. That was a lot for one person to feel in such a short span of time. 

Then Stiles realized what the question might have implied and jerked slightly, throwing both hands out in front of himself. 

“Not for me! Don’t get me wrong, you are very attractive, but I’m not asking for me. This is just—I was wondering about—” Stiles didn’t know how to say this now, so he just gave up and blurted it out. “Look, my best friend has had a crush on you for like, eight years, and while I know she’d kill me for admitting that to you, I guess I just wanted to be able to find out while she wasn’t around if she even had a shot with you. I get it if you’re not interested or anything, but I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” 

Boyd stared at him for an exceptionally long time. It was actually making Stiles a little uncomfortable, and he shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. 

After what felt like an age, Boyd turned to face him fully again, moving back up to the till. 

“Your friend,” he said, then nodded towards the back of the little space they had. “The blonde?” 

“Yeah. Her name’s Erica. It’s kind of a long story, but apparently our schools went up against each other for a soccer game while we were in middle school, and she came to watch me play.” Not that he had, but Boyd didn’t need to know that. “You were on the opposing team, and she’s basically convinced love at first sight is a thing because she’s had a crush on you ever since. Seeing you come out here is like, the highlight of her day.” A thought occurred to him and he felt cold all over. “If you’re not into her, please don’t stop coming by, she will literally kill me, I am not joking, and my dad loves her more than me so he’d definitely help her cover it up!” 

Boyd’s lips twitched, as if amused by his ramblings, and Stiles just hoped he hadn’t royally fucked this up for Erica. He probably should’ve thought this through a bit better, whoops. He wasn’t really known for planning things out, he was kind of a fly by the seat of his pants type of person, even if that ended with his pants being on fire. 

“I’m willing to give her a chance,” Boyd said easily, and Stiles practically melted with relief against the till. “If you do something for me.” 

Stiles blinked at him, confused, and forced himself to straighten, crossing his arms and frowning a little. “Something what?” 

“I have a friend who also has a crush,” Boyd said, eying Stiles for a few seconds. “I’m willing to give your friend a chance, if you’ll do the same for mine.” 

“Oh.” Stiles had not been expecting that. Boyd had a friend who had a crush on him? Who? The only person he ever saw him with was that Derek guy, aka Stiles’ future husband. But maybe Stiles just didn’t pay enough attention to Boyd and there was a girl always hanging around with them too. 

His eyes strayed back to the lake briefly, seeing Derek still doing circles, scowl on his face as always, and he felt a little sad. He’d have loved to have the balls to do what he’d just done with Boyd for Erica with Derek, but he knew he was too chicken. He’d never be able to admit anything to him, so he figured there was no harm in just agreeing to a date with Boyd’s friend. 

If nothing else, maybe he’d have a good time and start moving away from the unattainable God he saw every winter. If not, he wasn’t opposed to making a new friend. 

“Um, sure. I guess. Fair’s fair, after all.” 

Boyd actually smiled here, looking really happy with this turn of events. 

“Great. Why don’t we set things up for each other? I’ll talk to my friend and text you about your availability for a date, and you do the same with your friend. Erica, right?” 

“Yes sir,” Stiles said, feeling almost giddy at the realization that he’d just bagged Erica a date with the man of her dreams. “Yeah, no, that sounds great. Here, give me your number.” Stiles pulled his phone out, and typed out Boyd’s number. The other was also smart enough to give him his name, since he obviously didn’t know Stiles knew what it was. Apparently Boyd was his last name, his first name being Vernon, but he never used it. Everyone always called him Boyd. 

Stiles called his phone so that Boyd would have his, and he programmed it is on his end as well, Stiles giving him his name even though he was sure Boyd knew who he was. 

“Can we—maybe not share that I told you about her crush on you?” Stiles asked as Boyd finished adding him into his phone. “We can just say we got to talking and this whole thing happened organically. Like I said, she’ll murder me, and murder is bad for my health.” 

Boyd looked amused, but he nodded once in agreement. Shoving his phone in his pocket once he was done, he held up his drink in silent thanks, said he’d speak to him again soon, and turned to head back to his friend skating on the frozen lake. 

Stiles stood there for a good minute, mind reeling at the fact that he’d just bagged a date for Erica. It had been so easy too! A part of him wondered if maybe the guy actually liked her, and was just playing it up to get a date out of Stiles for his friend. 

After all, he’d been a little too casual when asking if his friend was the blonde girl he worked with, and just the way she and Boyd interacted made him curious if he hadn’t just gotten played. 

“Whatever!” Stiles said loudly to himself, clapping his hands together once and grinning. “Erica owes me for eternity!” 

“And why exactly is that?” 

Stiles jumped, turning to find Erica had just made her way back over to him, lugging the coffee and, presumably, more hot chocolate with her. 

He grinned ferally while watching her struggle, doing absolutely nothing to help her. She was a big girl, she could do this herself. 

“Oh Erica, do I have news for you.” He leaned back against the table the till was on and crossed his arms. “Tell me, when are you free in the coming days?” 

“I’m never free days, I’m stuck here with you,” she reminded him, getting behind the table and putting the coffee down on the back one with a grunt. “But I’m free most nights, unless we’re doing something. Why?” 

Stiles still wasn’t sure if she was going to scream and jump around like an excited psychopath, or if she was going to brain him with the coffee and watch him die a slow, painful death. 

He was willing to risk the latter, because he was pretty sure she was going to lose her fucking mind. 

“I fail to understand how any of this has suddenly become my problem,” Derek said, lying on his back on his bed and rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. The other held his phone at his ear, and a huge part of him was wishing he’d never answered this call. 

“I don’t ask you for favours often, Derek. I just need you to cover for me with someone while I go out, that’s all. I didn’t mean to make plans I couldn’t commit to, but I know for a fact you’ve got nothing going on tonight, so just do me a solid and go spend time with this person I’m bailing on.”

“Why do I have a feeling I’m going to regret this?” Derek demanded. “I feel like it’s someone I don’t like, and they bullied you into tricking me into going out with them.”

“You’ll have a good time, I promise.”

Derek let out a long, aggrieved sigh, muttered that he’d do it, if only so Boyd owed him one, and then hung up. Dropping his phone beside his head, he rubbed at his face with both hands and tried not to be annoyed about his ruined evening. 

He’d been planning on staying home and binge-watching the new season of The Boys, since he’d fallen behind while at school. He’d been doing stuff with his family all week, and spent all day on the lake pining after someone who didn’t know he existed, so having one night to do what he wanted had been a nice change. 

Both of his sisters were out, and his parents had gone to a dinner at one of their friends’ places, so it was legitimately just him home tonight. He’d been planning on making himself some spaghetti for dinner and eating that while watching TV.

Instead, he now had to put real clothes on and go to the mall thirty minutes away to meet up with one of Boyd’s friends to entertain them for the evening. With any luck, his surly attitude would just have whoever it was cut the night short and he could still come home to enjoy the spaghetti and TV. 

He allowed himself an additional five minutes of lamenting his lost evening before finally getting up and hunting down something more appropriate to wear. He didn’t care who he was meeting up with, so he didn’t worry too much about his outfit, throwing on a pair of dark jeans and a T-shirt. Normally he’d wear his leather jacket, but it was well below freezing out so he opted for a sweater and would grab his coat when he got downstairs. 

Grabbing everything he’d need for the evening—including his wallet, though he was not paying for anything except whatever was for him—he headed down the stairs and grabbed his coat. Everyone else had already left, so he locked up once he’d pulled his coat and boots on and left the house. 

A part of him wished Cora had stolen his car, since she tended to do that sometimes when she needed to get somewhere and knew Derek wasn’t planning on leaving the house, but alas, it looked like she’d either gotten picked up, or left with Laura.

His Camaro was still there, which meant he had no out. Damn. 

Climbing behind the wheel and making his way out towards the main road, it only occurred to him once he’d started the drive out of town that... he didn’t know who he was meeting. How was he meant to find them if he didn’t know who they were or what they looked like? Boyd had just told him to meet them in front of the Starbucks on the first floor of the mall, but did the other person know what Derek looked like? Or were they both going to stand awkwardly at the entrance side-eying each other, trying to figure out if they were there to meet each other? 

Whatever, it wasn’t his problem. He was doing his part, if this fell through, he’d tried. It would be Boyd’s fault for not giving clearer instructions. 

Derek changed the station a few times as he drove, trying to find one with a good song playing. Everything was either really old shit, or annoying new non-music stuff. He hated all the music coming out in this day and age where people just talked to a beat. Derek could do that too, it wasn’t hard. 

He eventually found a station playing some heavy metal, and while not his first choice, it was at least speaking to his soul since he was pretty annoyed right now. But Boyd was his friend, and as much as he hated leaving his house, he would never say no to doing him a favour. 

Though Boyd definitely owed him. 

The drive to the mall usually took half an hour, but Derek had either made good time or accidentally sped a little bit, because he made it there in just over twenty. He still had another twenty minutes before he had to meet Boyd’s friend, so he walked into the mall, trying not to get annoyed at the people milling about in the fucking entrance, and then headed for the bookstore in the far back end of the mall. 

It was comfortably crowded, which he was kind of happy about, because he always worried the digital age would make things like physical books disappear. He liked having an e-reader, it was convenient, but sometimes he was happier holding a physical book. His parents’ place had a fireplace, and one of his favourite things to do in the winter was sit in the chair beside it and read a good book. 

Probably made him a nerd, but he didn’t care. The fireplace kept him warm, and books were just entertaining all around. He didn’t understand how some people couldn’t stand to read. 

He killed time in the store, picking up some of the new releases and reading the back before putting them back down, or keeping them in hand. He found four books he thought might be interesting, and checked the time while he was standing in line to pay. 

Shit, he’d lost track of time and was now late. Not by much, only two minutes, but still. He didn’t want Boyd’s friend to think he’d bailed, or else Boyd would be disappointed. 

Paying quickly, and struggling not to be rude to the girl flirting with him when he was clearly in a hurry, he grabbed his bag and then rushed out of the store. The Starbucks was at the other end, so he sped-walked across the mall, trying not to run in case the person he was meeting noticed. He didn’t want them to get any ideas.

He was just late, not eager. 

When he finally reached the Starbucks, he noticed a few people milling about, but most of them were in pairs or small groups. He didn’t notice anyone standing by themselves and he checked his watch. He was five minutes late. Surely the friend hadn’t just left after five minutes? What if Derek had gotten stuck in traffic? 

No, maybe the friend was late, they definitely hadn’t just left, so he tried not to worry about it and lingered by the entrance, scanning the area in hopes of finding someone he recognized. He prayed to God Boyd hadn’t set him up and he was meeting with one of the many girls they’d known growing up who had a crush on him. 

Boyd wasn’t that much of an asshole though, so Derek was optimistic. Hell, for all he knew, it was actually a friend from university or something. Maybe it wasn’t even a girl. 

After all, Boyd was his friend, he wouldn’t do anything to make Derek suffer, surely. 

“Oh, hey! Sorry, I didn’t notice you, were you waiting long?” 

Derek froze, because he recognized that voice. He recognized that voice, and he absolutely refused to believe that Boyd had done him dirty like this, because surely if this was who Derek was meeting, he’d have told him. Surely he would have been honest, and given Derek full details as to what was going on, so that Derek could dress accordingly, and try and plan what he was going to say to not come off as a total dick. There was absolutely no way Boyd hated him this much. 

“I got you a black coffee, I hope that’s okay. It’s what you usually get at the pop-up, so I figured it was a safe bet.” 

Stiles had just walked right up to him, smile as bright as always, holding two drinks in his hands. 

Except one of them was held out to Derek. 

Like he’d been waiting on him.

Like he was there to meet Derek. 

Like this was the person Derek was supposed to be entertaining tonight. 

I take it back, Boyd is the worst friend, and I’m going to kill him, Derek decided. 

Stiles tapped his fingers nervously against his phone as he stared down at the screen, his messages open on the last one he’d had with Boyd. He hadn’t been nervous, not at first, because he’d assumed he was coming to meet someone he didn’t know and thus it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

It wasn’t until Stiles had arrived and asked who he was meant to be looking for that Boyd had texted back saying, “Don’t worry, you’ll recognize him when you see him.” 

Him. 

Him. 

As in a dude. 

As in—the dude Boyd was always hanging out with on the lake. 

As in his friend Derek, aka Stiles’ future fucking husband! 

Jesus Chris, Stiles had come out expecting to have to play nice with some girl in hopes Boyd and Erica would have a good date, and instead he’d shown up wearing faded jeans, a graphic tee and a hoodie only to be told he was meeting with Derek. 

Boyd was kind of an asshole for doing that to him, but to be fair, he had no idea Stiles had a crush on Derek. 

But that was also when Stiles realized that... Derek had a crush on him! Because Boyd had specifically said he wanted to do a trade, and he’d go out with Erica, if Stiles went on a date with his friend who had a crush on him. 

He was still trying to figure out if he was imagining things, because in no universe—least of all this one—did Stiles think Derek would ever be interested. But according to Boyd, he was. In a way, Stiles supposed it explained why he was always so fucking weird around him. Maybe the guy was shy. Or didn’t know how to talk to someone he liked. It at least helped with understanding Derek’s behaviour, for the most part. 

Still, now Stiles was worried Derek was going to bail on him. He’d gone to get himself a drink to calm his nerves, and had been sitting for close to ten minutes before realizing it might be rude to have gotten himself a drink and not Derek. He’d gone back to the lineup to order him something, but all he really knew the guy liked was coffee. 

Starbucks had lots of coffee! 

He went safe and just ordered a black coffee, choosing the roast that was most similar to what Erica’s family’s shop had, because he didn’t know. Derek didn’t seem to get the same thing every year, because Stiles distinctly remembered him ordering lattes all last year. Maybe it had been too foamy for him, which was why he’d switched to coffee. 

Stiles was watching the time as he waited for the coffee, and winced when he noticed how much of it had passed. Derek was late. He was probably going to bail, but Stiles wouldn’t give up so quickly! Maybe he was just running late. This place was far out from Beacon Hills, after all. Stiles assumed Boyd had chosen it in an attempt to ensure they had many options available. If he’d gotten them to meet up at the diner or theatre, it kind of forced them into something they might not want to do for their date. 

Going to the coffee shop in town was out of the question, since that was owned by Erica’s family, and the last thing he needed was Mrs. Reyes hovering excitedly while he and Derek tried to have a conversation. So, no. This was better. Further, but better. 

He’d just grabbed the coffee and was heading back to a free table with his half-finished drink and the one for Derek when he caught sight of him standing by the entrance, scowling down at his watch. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, which suggested he’d left it in his car. Probably a good call, the mall was warm. Stiles had only put on the hoodie in anticipation, but it was much thicker than the sweater Derek was wearing, which was why he assumed he had a coat out in the car. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, steeling himself. No big deal, he just had to go talk to his future husband like this was totally normal. At least he knew the guy liked him, so that was a bit more encouraging, but it was just as likely Boyd was wrong and Stiles was about to get his heart broken. 

Too late now, so he just steeled himself and strode towards the entrance before he could change his mind. Plastering his usual smile on his face, and hoping it looked genuine and not wracked with nerves, he said, “Oh, hey!” 

He saw Derek stiffen immediately, the man’s back to him. He didn’t turn, but Stiles continued speaking anyway as he moved towards him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t notice you, were you waiting long?” 

He got around in front of Derek, the other man not having moved an inch, and every single muscle seeming tensed. His eyes followed Stiles until he stopped in front of him, still beaming, and held the cup of coffee out to him. 

“I got you a black coffee, I hope that’s okay. It’s what you usually get at the pop-up, so I figured it was a safe bet.” 

Derek stared at him and, for the first time ever, Stiles actually noticed what Boyd was saying. It wasn’t a lie, Derek really did have a crush on him, because he actually looked like a deer in headlights right now. Stiles didn’t know why, since he’d probably been psyching himself up this whole time, but he definitely looked like he was ready to bolt in the opposite direction. 

It was a weird expression to see on the face of someone who usually spent all his time scowling. 

Stiles pressed his lips together, still holding the coffee out awkwardly, and wondering what to do. Should he say something else? He really didn’t want this to be a one-sided conversation, he’d kind of been looking forward to getting to know Derek tonight, which would be hard to do if the guy didn’t talk to him. 

After an age, Derek’s green eyes lowered from Stiles’ face to the cup he was holding out. It took him a second, but he finally reached out to take it, and Stiles smiled before letting go. Derek just kept staring down at it, like he’d never seen a coffee before, but Stiles just bulled on, hoping to save this evening. 

Somehow. Man, Derek was awkward. 

“So,” he said, looking around them at the mall and its many patrons and stores, “did you have any set plans for the evening, or do you want to just wing it?” Stiles winced internally at that, hoping it didn’t sound too dismissive. For all he knew, Derek had everything planned out to the second, and Stiles would be totally cool with that. He was a little nervous so he was probably going to put his foot in his mouth a lot, but at least he had the comfort of knowing Derek felt the same way. 

Little things, but big impact. As long as Stiles didn’t make himself completely undesirable by the end of the night, this might actually go well for him and he wouldn’t have wasted four years crushing on someone he couldn’t have.

When he looked back at Derek, he’d lifted his gaze back up to Stiles’ face again. He was still staring at him like he was waiting for the car to hit him. Why was he still staring at him like that? It was like he’d been blindsided and had no idea who he was—oh. 

Oh, that was mean. Had Boyd...? 

“Boyd didn’t tell you we were going out on a date together, did he?” 

Derek jerked slightly at those words, and it occurred to Stiles that... Boyd hadn’t told Derek anything. For all Stiles knew, Boyd had said he was meeting Derek here, and having Stiles—allegedly his crush—show up unexpectedly had probably made his fight or flight instincts kick in. 

Shit, well this was awkward. And mean. Not even just to Derek, but also to Stiles. Because while Boyd didn’t know Stiles liked Derek too, he’d been nervous as hell once he’d found out who he was meeting up with, and now he was going to have to figure out how to salvage this entire evening so they didn’t both just leave right out of the gate. 

Thankfully—or not—Derek spoke. 

“This isn’t a date.” 

Stiles didn’t really know how to respond to that. “Um, I mean, it was meant to be, but I see now that this is... not what you wanted out of your evening.” He wasn’t sure if that was horror-filled disbelief at being out on a date with Stiles, or if it was denial because he didn’t want this to be his first date with Stiles. 

It was clear based on what he said next that it was the latter. 

“No, this cannot be a date. I had—it was planned. I knew where—and my clothes.” Derek looked down at himself. He looked very nice, in Stiles’ opinion, but Derek obviously didn’t seem to think so. “I was going to—everything was laid out. I knew how...” he trailed off, like he couldn’t figure out how to string his sentences together properly. 

Stiles showed him pity and just offered him another smile. “Well then, this isn’t a date.” The look that crossed Derek’s face then was startlingly devastated, but it passed quickly, like he was good at covering up how he was feeling. Stiles continued quickly, holding his free hand out. “I’m not cancelling our evening, don’t misunderstand. We both drove out here, I bought us drinks, all that fun stuff, so we should still—I just meant, this doesn’t have to be a date. We can just hang out, two guys getting to know each other, see how things go, and at the end of the night you can decide if you want us to have a date or not. And if you do, whatever you originally had planned can come to fruition.” He paused. “Unless your original plan included murder or cannibalism, because I draw the line at that sort of thing.” 

That, at least, startled a laugh out of Derek, and Stiles grinned. If nothing else, his words seemed to have made the guy relax a little bit, and it looked like he was relieved—though still feeling pretty shocked—that their night wasn’t ruined. 

And that he wasn’t having his first date with Stiles without even knowing it. 

“Come on.” Stiles motioned towards the Starbucks. “Let’s go sit down for a bit, drink our coffees, chat, and we can go from there. Maybe we grab a bite after, maybe we browse, whatever we feel, okay?” 

Derek nodded once curtly, and followed Stiles into the Starbucks, the two of them managing to snag a two-person table near the back. It was a few tables away from the one Stiles had been sitting at while waiting on him, but more secluded, which would probably help with Derek’s nerves. 

Stiles felt like his own were slowly disappearing because having Derek be ten times more nervous, visibly so, was doing wonders for his own nerves. He couldn’t in good conscience leave Derek to suffer through this feeling without at least trying to help make him feel more comfortable. 

Honestly, as much as he thought what his friend had done was mean, he could kind of understand it, too. Derek probably wouldn’t have shown up if he’d known who he was meeting. Boyd wouldn’t have been able to get this whole thing arranged if he hadn’t lied, and while it was still mean and Stiles would absolutely have punched the guy if he were in Derek’s shoes, maybe he’d trusted Stiles to be able to turn the night around. 

How he’d known Stiles would have been okay with dating a guy, he wasn’t sure, but then it occurred to him he’d admitted to finding Boyd attractive while they were discussing the whole thing with Erica. Maybe he’d just hoped for the best on the comment, or maybe he’d worked up the nerve to ask Erica before their date, which happened to be tonight. 

Stiles had told Erica about the whole thing, because no way in hell would he have survived not admitting to her what was going on. If she hadn’t had the opportunity to glam herself up before her big date because Stiles lied, he was pretty sure she would put people who tortured others for a living to shame with the things she would do to Stiles. 

His friend was very violent, he was realizing. 

Once they were both seated, Stiles sipping at the last of his drink, he put his empty cup down and watched as Derek held his own with both hands, entire body tensed. He was clearly still reacting in a fight or flight way, and Stiles wanted to try and help calm him down. He didn’t imagine it would be good for him to remain that tensed up all evening. 

“Why don’t we start easy?” Stiles offered with a smile, holding one hand out. “I’m Stiles Stilinski.” 

It seemed to take effort for Derek to force his hand to uncurl from around his takeaway cup and he gripped Stiles’ firmly. His hands were sweating, but Stiles didn’t comment. It was obvious Derek was nervous, and calling him out on his sweaty hands wouldn’t help them. 

“Derek Hale.” 

“Nice to meet you. Officially, I guess, since we’ve met before. Sorry about... well, this.” Stiles motioned between them, then the area around them. “It’s kind of a long story, but you seem like you might need more time to get your thoughts organized, and I like talking so, works out well for us, right?” He beamed at him, and was rewarded with a huff of a laugh and an almost smile. 

Progress. It was fucking progress.

“So.” Stiles clapped his hands together. “My friend Erica has had a crush on Boyd since like, forever. When he came over the other day when she was gone getting us more coffee, I kind of sort of might have outed that to him in an attempt to help her get a date. He told me he was willing to take her out, see how it went, all that fun stuff, but only in exchange for going on a date with his friend who uh, has a crush on me.” 

Derek wasn’t looking at him, eyes lowered to his cup, but it was clear by the scowl that had made a reappearance that Boyd was going to have a lot of words coming his way. Derek was probably much chattier with his friend than he was with Stiles. 

“I agreed, because you know, where’s the harm, right? Honestly didn’t think it was you though, I figured he was going to set me up with some girl he knew that I’d never seen before. Kind of relieved to show up to someone I recognized, and I was really looking forward to getting to know you better, so I’m glad it ended up being you.” 

Derek’s tense frame relaxed ever so slightly at that, and Stiles had to wonder if maybe he’d been worried Stiles wasn’t really interested in this outing and only there for his friend’s benefit. While yes, that was originally why Stiles had agreed, even before he’d known it was Derek, he’d still been planning on making the most of this outing. Who knew, maybe he was going to meet his future spouse?

Given it was Derek who showed up, God Stiles hoped so. He’d been calling him his future husband for years, so if this wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was. 

“Anyway, I told Erica about it because, you know, she’s a girl and girls have to get all dressed up and pretty or whatever for dates. Boyd just told me to come to this Starbucks at a specific time and when I got here, I asked who I was meant to be looking out for. He didn’t say it was you, he just said I’d recognize who was coming so I kind of concluded for myself it would be you. And then there you were.” He did jazz hands. “So I guess, not that long of a story, but at least you don’t look like a deer about to get hit by my car anymore, so that’s a plus.” He nudged Derek’s leg lightly under the table with his foot and Derek snorted again, but he still wasn’t really looking at him. 

“He said he’d double-booked his evening and was calling in a favour,” Derek admitted. To his coffee. And not to Stiles. But that was okay, baby steps. At least he was talking. “He told me to meet his friend here, but nothing more. I didn’t—know. It was a date.” 

“It’s not a date,” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him. “It will only be a date if we both know it is and agree to it being a date. Right now, we’re just having coffee. Or well, one of us is.” He picked up his empty cup, waggled it once, and set it back down. “Not a huge Starbucks fan, to be honest, but I also grew up with Erica so I have a sophisticated palette.” 

Derek let out another small snort at that, and smiled a little. Fuck, it was so cute. 

And weird. It was weird that now that Stiles knew Derek had a crush on him, it was so easy to recognize he was just nervous and not actively trying to be a dick. Not that Stiles ever thought he was being a dick on purpose, he just thought he was awkward and perpetually grumpy. Apparently not. 

“He’s liked her for years, by the way.” 

Stiles had gotten distracted following the line of Derek’s perfectly manicured beard, and it took him a second to register the words. Even once he did, they didn’t make sense to him. 

“Sorry, who’s liked who for what?” he asked. 

“Boyd,” Derek said. “He’s liked your blonde friend for years. We go out to the lake every winter because we both know the two of you will be there.” He winced, like he hated admitting that, but Stiles’ mouth just fell open. 

“Wait a second,” he insisted, pushing his empty cup aside, as if it were blocking his view of Derek. “Are you telling me Boyd has had a crush on Erica this whole time, and they could’ve just been dating since like, forever?!” 

“Not forever, but at least four years.”

“So he tricked me into this?” Stiles asked incredulously. “Oh, that dick. If it hadn’t been you who’d shown up tonight, he’d have been in big trouble!” 

Derek half-smiled again, but Stiles wasn’t sure if it was about his words at who he was with for the evening, or because it was obvious he wasn’t really mad about it. 

Still, a dirty, dirty trick. This Boyd guy was sneaky, Stiles would have to keep an eye on him. 

He’d suspected Boyd was interested, just based on his reaction during their exchange, but he hadn’t actually thought the guy was into Erica to such a degree that it was the only reason he came to freeze his ass off every winter. 

Then again, Derek had basically just admitted he did the same thing, too. It was kind of sweet, and Stiles approved. After all, Stiles only ended up working the stand with Erica because he kept going to hang out with her in the cold, so Stiles was very much into someone going out of their way to see the person they liked. 

Derek took a sip of his coffee, and said nothing else. Stiles didn’t want them to devolve back to awkward silence like earlier, so he instead asked Derek about the books he’d bought, since he’d been holding a bag earlier, which seemed to be resting in his lap now. 

Finding something seemingly safer to talk about, Derek got a little bit chattier. Not much, but at least Stiles felt like they were having a real conversation. Derek showed him the titles he’d bought, and they started talking about books in general. They swapped favourite authors, and when it became clear neither had heard of the other’s, they ended up throwing out their empty drink cups and heading back out to the book store. 

Stiles liked books, they were kind of a comfort sometimes. He was more prone to reach for a controller in this day and age to play a video game than he was a book, but he remembered reading a lot when he was a kid. Derek admitted he liked coming home during the winter because they had a fireplace in their living room and he liked to read beside it when it got cold. He seemed embarrassed to have admitted that, but Stiles thought that was kind of cool. They didn’t have a fireplace at his house, and he could imagine it must be nice and relaxing. 

When they got to the store, Stiles led Derek towards the section his favourite author was in first, Derek picking up a few of the books Stiles pointed out and reading the back. He kept hold of one of them, seeming willing to give it a try, and then they headed over to where Derek’s favourite author was located. Stiles was actually surprised at how interesting the books sounded, and he ended up grabbing three of them. 

They went to pay, still talking about books and entertainment as a whole, then headed out to hunt down the movie store the mall had. Physical media was a dying breed, but there was still one relatively large store in the mall that sold DVDs and Blu-Rays, so they headed up there next. Derek had the misfortune of pointing out one of the new Star Wars shows finally being available for purchase, which of course set Stiles off on his ode to the best movies of all time—the original trilogy, because fuck the rest of them.

They browsed the selections for a long time, and ended up arguing about who the best Batman actor was—Derek insisted is was Kevin Conroy, but Stiles argued that it was unfair to vote for literal Batman and instead opted for Robert Pattinson. Saying Kevin Conroy was the best Batman was like saying the earth orbited the sun. Of course Kevin Conroy was the best Batman, he was Batman, and thus didn’t count and should never be included in any arguments about Batman ever! 

It didn’t feel like they’d spent that much time in Starbucks, the book store, or the movie store, but they were still arguing about whether or not Kevin Conroy should be able to count in a vote of this nature when an announcement came over the loudspeakers of the mall, advising it would be closing in ten minutes. 

Stiles pulled his phone out incredulously, staring at the time, and was honestly startled at, not only the hour, but the text message from Erica. Her date had ended almost twenty minutes ago, and Stiles was still out with Derek. He was hopeful that meant Derek had had as much fun tonight as he had, and he looked up to grin at him while putting his phone away. 

“I hijacked your entire evening. Not bad for an outing you didn’t even want to go on.” He nudged him on his way by. 

Derek muttered something under his breath that he didn’t quite hear, but sounded suspiciously like an admission of his being willing to stay out forever with him. Stiles just smiled to himself while he walked to the checkout, buying a few movies he didn’t really need, and waiting while Derek did the same. 

They headed out of the mall together, both of them having driven in, and Stiles was kind of sad to realize they’d have to drive back all the way to Beacon Hills in separate cars. 

They reached Derek’s Camaro first, the car absolutely stunning, and Stiles grinned at Derek as he stopped beside it, tapping one fist against the top of the car. 

“So,” Stiles said, hands held out to either side of himself, “how’d I do? Scare you off, or do I get to find out about this epic date you’ve always had planned for us in your mind?” 

Derek gave him an unimpressed look at that, and Stiles was so glad he seemed to have gotten more comfortable with him over the past few hours. They’d had real conversations at the end there and everything! 

“I’ll sleep on it and let you know,” Derek said. 

Stiles pretended to stagger backwards, both hands slapping against his chest. “Ouch. Harsh, man.” He smiled and Derek snorted, but he was definitely turning a little pink. It was fucking adorable. “See you tomorrow?” 

When Derek looked confused, Stiles motioned around them at the white blanketing the ground. Well, it was more like grey slush, being in a parking lot and all, but it was enough to clue him in and Derek nodded. 

“See you tomorrow.” 

“Great. Drive safe.” He held one hand up in farewell, and waited for Derek to turn away before he walked past the car towards his own. 

It occurred to him he probably should’ve asked for Derek’s number, but he was trying to take things slow. Derek was obviously still a bit out of sorts about this whole evening, so Stiles wasn’t going to have him get all flustered at being asked for his number. 

Even if it was cute.

Though realistically, it was also because he didn’t want to pressure him. Would he like Derek’s number? Fuck yeah he would, but he didn’t want Derek to feel like he was being backed into a corner if tonight hadn’t gone as well as Stiles felt it had. 

Derek seemed fine, and it felt like they’d had a good time together, but he didn’t want to assume.

Stiles jogged past a few cars to get to his own, hurrying into it and rubbing his hands together before blowing into them. He should’ve worn something warmer, but he’d known he’d be in the mall all evening and hadn’t wanted to start sweating. Still, the first few minutes in the car were going to suck because his heater took forever to kick in.

He’d just put the key in the ignition and started to turn it when someone appeared at his window so suddenly he hit himself in the face with his own hand from the failing. 

“Jesus!” he shouted, turning to find Derek there. “God. Fuck.” His heart was pounding hard enough to hurt, and he rubbed at his chest with one hand while cranking the window down. His car was old as fuck, no automatic windows for him. Needed some good old elbow grease to get the windows down. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

“Sorry,” Derek said, though he seemed amused. Evidently he hadn’t missed Stiles punching himself in the face. Stiles had an excellent defence mechanism, clearly. Kidnapper coming? Punch himself unconscious. Perfect. 

“What’s up?” 

Derek’s small smile slid off his face, and he shifted his weight briefly before licking his lips and saying, “I don’t have your number.” 

Stiles blinked at him. Blinked again. 

Of course Stiles wanted to exchange numbers, he’d literally just been thinking about it, but to have Derek follow him all the way here after that realization was startling. 

He’d been quiet for too long, because he saw Derek’s walls building themselves back up, scowl returning, and he started to step back when Stiles jerked into action, grabbing for his phone urgently. 

“Yeah, of course! I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but absolutely, what’s your number? I’ll call you.” 

Derek looked like he wasn’t entirely sure if Stiles was being genuine, but he recited it obediently and Stiles called out. He could hear Derek’s phone ringing, and stared at him expectantly. Derek just arched an eyebrow. 

“Um, excuse me, your phone is ringing,” he informed him.

Derek actually rolled his eyes, but obediently reached into his pocket for his phone. It occurred to Stiles that Derek was trembling a little, and he realized the guy still didn’t have his coat on. He probably shouldn’t be teasing him and making him stay out in the cold longer.

What if he got sick and couldn’t come to the lake tomorrow?! 

Derek answered the call and put it to his ear. “Yes Stiles?” 

“Oh, surround sound. I like it.” Stiles winked at him, pulling the phone away from himself and hanging up. 

“Did you just hang up on me after demanding I answer my phone?” Derek asked, putting his phone away again after making sure it was locked. 

“Had to make sure it was really your number.” Stiles winked at him, then shooed him away with both hands. “Now go back to your car before you freeze to death. Where’s your coat?” 

“In my car.”

At least Stiles hadn’t been wrong. “Well go back to it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Derek smiled, a small, fierce thing that had Stiles’ insides melting. “See you tomorrow,” he repeated, then turned to walk back to his car. 

Stiles rolled the window back up, turned the key in the ignition, shifted into drive, then placed both hands on the wheel, staring out the windshield at the open space littered with cars in front of him. 

“I am so, so fucked,” he whispered. 

[Boyd]
pretty sure you owe me
[Boyd]
you’re welcome 

[Derek]
You’re a fucking asshole.

[Boyd]
i’m sorry i did that to you
[Boyd]
but not sorry it worked in your favour

Derek stared down at his last text message with Boyd while he waited on breakfast. He could make his own food, but his mother liked to cook for them all when they were home, and who was he to turn down good food? 

Laura was in the shower and he knew Cora would likely stumble down the stairs half-asleep in a few minutes, so for now it was just him and his mother. She was using the blender, so talking wasn’t really an option, which was why he was staring down at his phone, scowling. 

After he’d gotten home from his not-date with Stiles, he’d immediately pulled his phone out to call Boyd and tell him what a horrible friend he was, except he already had a text message from the guy waiting for him.

Derek remembered telling Boyd he owed him before hanging up with him last night, so this was obviously Boyd being all smug about the whole situation and how well it had worked out. 

While admittedly, Derek appreciated that Boyd had done this to try and help him, he was still royally pissed he hadn’t gotten a heads up. Boyd hadn’t even said it was a blind date or anything, he’d legitimately made like this was all a mixup in his schedule and Derek was just doing him a favour. That was such a shitty thing to do to him when the person he was meeting was someone Derek couldn’t even talk to. 

He’d been speaking to his mother about it before the blender got started, and while she admitted it was an unkind thing to do to him, she knew Boyd as well as she knew her own children and, playing devil’s advocate, had said Boyd was probably just looking out for him. He’d done it in an awful way, but Boyd would never have done anything to intentionally hurt him. 

Even Derek knew that, but still! 

Once the noise finally cut off, he turned the screen on his phone off and let it drop onto the table. 

“I still don’t see how Boyd blindsiding me like this is considered him looking out for me,” he said, continuing their conversation as if there hadn’t been a break in between. “He could’ve just told me I was meeting up with Stiles. Or just said it was a blind date without telling me who it was with. Bottom line is, he should have told me something, but letting me show up without knowing it was Stiles I was meeting was bullshit.” 

His mother turned to arch an eyebrow at him from the stove. “Sweetheart, you know I’m with you on this, always, but if Boyd had told you who you were meeting, you would’ve worked yourself up so much you wouldn’t have ended up going.” 

He scowled at her. “That’s not true.” 

“Yes it is.” His father’s voice preceded him into the kitchen, the man patting his shoulder on his way past him and heading to the stove to kiss Talia on the cheek. “Smells delicious.” 

“Thank you,” she turned to him a bit more with a smile, kissing him back. 

It was too early for Derek to be seeing this shit, so he brought them both back to the topic at hand. 

“I would have gone,” he argued. 

It was his dad’s turn to arch an eyebrow at him, one arm wrapped around his mother and rubbing at her arm. “Derek, you couldn’t even speak to him well enough to order coffee from him. You know I don’t take sides, but in this case, everyone in this house knows Boyd did the only thing he could think of to make sure you showed up. Was it the right thing to do? No, and I think your anger over this is absolutely valid, but Boyd wasn’t trying to be a horrible friend. He just made a bad judgement call in an attempt to get you out there.” 

“And it worked out well,” Talia insisted, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Again, not to play devil’s advocate, but you and Stiles had a lovely evening, and now you’ve formed a nice friendship. That wouldn’t have happened if not for Boyd.”

“Actually, it was kind of Stiles’ own doing,” Derek muttered, playing with his fork on the table. He had to explain what he meant at the confused look on his dad’s face, but apparently his parents thought Boyd was a genius. 

Not only had he gotten exactly what he’d wanted himself, that being a date with that blonde girl Erica, but he’d also gotten Derek a not-date with Stiles. 

“On top of everything, he admitted I had a crush on Stiles to Stiles,” Derek added. 

“And while that was wrong of him,” his mother agreed, “we all know, you included, that he didn’t do it from a place of malice.” 

“Are you still ragging on Boyd about this whole thing?” Laura demanded, entering the kitchen. “He did you a solid, and it worked out. Suck it up, and move on.” 

Derek threw a banana at her when she went to sit down. She retaliated by smearing butter into his beard. Their father intervened before Derek could dump sugar over her head. 

“You’d think the two of you were eight and nine instead of twenty-two and twenty-three,” he insisted, shaking his head in disapproval. 

“I could’ve been an only child, this is your own fault,” Laura accused, leaning back in her chair. 

“Well technically, you were all accidents, so we could’ve been child-free and richer,” was his retort, a twinkle in his eye. 

Laura’s gasp was audible and Derek just laughed. “Mom! Are you gonna let him talk to us like that?” 

“He’s not wrong,” she insisted, turning to smile at them from the stove. “You were accidents.” 

Laura turned to Derek then. “So I say we kill them and cash in the life insurance.” 

“Should kill Cora too, just to be safe. Easier to split it fifty-fifty,” he agreed. 

Laura held her hand out to him and he shook it, the two of them confirming this agreement. Derek saw his dad rolling his eyes before he turned back to grab some coffee. 

The easy morning banter made Derek smile, and reminded him how much he missed this while he was away at school. He only had one more year once he was done this next semester, and he had plans to come back once he was done. He didn’t know what he’d do in Beacon Hills with his degree, but he knew he wanted to stay close to family. 

Laura was the same way, given she’d already confirmed she was moving back when she finished her final semester in May. 

It didn’t take long for the smell of bacon to rouse Cora from her slumber and when she showed up in the kitchen still in her pyjamas and her hair a rat’s nest atop her head, the five of them sat to enjoy breakfast together. 

Conversations about the previous evening came up again and Cora, at least, seemed to be the most on Derek’s side versus straddling the fence like his parents, or just fully on Boyd’s side like Laura. 

“Nah, that was an absolute dick move on Boyd’s part, and Derek should punch him in the face. That’ll make him feel better and he’ll get over this whole thing. Violence fixes everything.” 

His mother was not of the same opinion, and scowled at Cora for suggesting violence was the answer. 

Once they were done eating, Derek helped his siblings clear the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher, then called farewell to the house as a whole to head out to the lake. 

It was a bit later than usual today, but Derek didn’t show up at the same time every day, so he didn’t worry about it too much. Somehow, having Stiles’ number made him feel less terrified of losing track of him, even if he hadn’t actually used said number yet. 

He’d considered texting Stiles earlier to say he’d be coming by a bit later today, but it seemed weird to do. Why would Stiles care if he was later? It wasn’t like they had plans or anything, he was working anyway! 

Climbing into the car, he headed out to the Preserve, fiddling with the radio for a bit until he found a station playing something other than country. He didn’t think he’d be able to get into the Preserve since he was so late today, but by some miracle he was the second to last car let in, meaning he wouldn’t have to park far out and walk. 

Boyd would though, but Derek had no sympathy for him. 

The spot he parked in was a bit of a tight fit since there was a massive truck on one side of him and a badly parked Subaru on the other, but he managed it somehow. 

Climbing out, he had a hard time actually getting out of the car given the tight space, but he managed it and grabbed his skates. Following along with the smaller crowd of people in this lot, since it was clear a few people had already made it to the lake by now, he tried not to overthink this whole thing. 

A part of him was worried Stiles was going to act like nothing happened yesterday, but that was stupid. Why would he do that? There was no reason to do that. 

Unless he didn’t want anyone to know about it. What if Stiles was still in the closet and didn’t want people to know he liked men? Not that he’d said he liked men, but considering he’d agreed to a date with one, surely he must, right? But what if it was something he hadn’t shared with anyone? What if Derek got there, greeted him, and Stiles acted all uncomfortable and weird?! 

“Stop overthinking it,” Derek insisted to himself sharply. He saw the couple in front of him jump and turn to look at him, but was too distracted to be embarrassed. Everything was going to be fine, he was making this into a bigger deal than it was. 

His phone buzzed when he got near the tree line by the lake and he pulled it out to find a text from Boyd. He’d had to park out of the Preserve—served him right!—so he’d be by in a few minutes. 

Derek put his phone back without a word, ducking under a low-hanging branch until he was out by the lake. His eyes immediately sought out the pop-up coffee stand and headed towards it. There was a bit of a lineup, so he lingered back slightly to try and be the last person there. He wanted time to talk to Stiles, and he’d feel rushed if there were people waiting behind him. 

Stiles looked like he always did, bright smile on his face, hat tugged low to cover his ears, and scarf wrapped around his neck high enough so he could lower his chin into it to keep it warm. He looked cute all bundled up like that, though he’d looked cute wearing jeans and a hoodie last night, too. 

It took a few minutes for Stiles to notice Derek in the lineup, since he was mostly focussed on the people right in front of him at any given time, but when he’d turned to say something to Erica, his eyes seemed to scan the line to see how long it was when he turned back and his eyes caught on Derek. 

It took everything Derek had not to raise his hand to wave like an idiot, but he managed to refrain and offered a small smile. Stiles positively beamed back at him, but focussed on the customer in front of him again immediately after. 

There were eight people in front of him, and Derek was getting a little impatient when one of them took their sweet time deciding on what they wanted. That only further irritated him when it gave someone else time to join the line behind Derek and he let them go ahead of him so he could be last in line again. 

Stiles didn’t seem to notice, but his friend did, and her grin was feral when their eyes met. He scowled at her, but she just laughed, Stiles turning to ask what was so funny. To her credit, she didn’t rat him out, which earned her a few brownie points in his book. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Stiles called farewell to the customer in front of Derek and it was his turn. He walked up to the till, Stiles beaming at him again, and felt himself relax ever so slightly when he spoke. 

“Hey, how’s it going? You get home okay last night?”

“I didn’t crash and die, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Derek thought maybe his humour might be too dark for Stiles, and was just about to backtrack when Stiles laughed, nodding in agreement. 

“That’s good, because while I believe in a lot of things, ghosts aren’t on the list, so you’d have me having an existential crisis right now if you were one.” He winked at him, then leaned forward on the till a bit. “Hey, I started one of the books from that author of yours when I got home last night. It’s really interesting so far!” 

“Oh yeah?” Derek asked, surprised. He’d gotten home late due to the drive, and having to slow down on the highway because the snow had started picking up. He was sure the same was true for Stiles, but Derek had the luxury of sleeping in. Stiles had been up for hours already to make it out there in time for when the lake was available to skate on, which meant he should’ve gone to bed right when he got home. Clearly, he didn’t. “Which one?” 

Stiles gave him the title, but Derek didn’t really remember that one, so he started explaining what he’d read so far to help jog Derek’s memory. When he figured out which one it was, he told Stiles to keep him updated on his thoughts on it. That book wasn’t one of Derek’s favourites, but it was still good. 

“God, you’re both such nerds,” Erica said, appearing beside Stiles and hip-checking him out of the way. Derek thought it was because there was someone behind him, but when he shifted out of the way, he realized there wasn’t. 

When he faced Erica again, she held out a coffee to him. He started to exchange it for money, but she waved it away impatiently. 

“It’s on me. For now.” 

“Thanks,” he said uncertainly, taking the drink. “Until when?” 

“Until you do something that makes me chop you into tiny pieces and bury them all across town.” Her grin was feral and Stiles rolled his eyes, hip-checking her back out of the way. “I’ll steal the money from your wallet then if I need to.” 

“You’re so annoying,” Stiles informed her. 

“You’re one to talk,” Erica said with a snort, and Derek smiled a little as he watched the two of them bicker. They weren’t siblings, but they sure acted like it. He supposed it made sense, given they’d apparently grown up together.

After a few minutes of their bickering, Erica’s gaze shifted to somewhere behind Derek and she instantly straightened, combing her fingers through her hair and making sure her outfit looked okay. 

Derek didn’t need to turn to know Boyd was coming given her reaction, and he was right when the man appeared beside him a few moments later. The two of them shared a look, and Boyd raised both hands in surrender, evidently able to tell Derek was still pissed at him for what had happened and willing to take that heat. 

He instead turned to Erica, smiling warmly at her, and as angry as Derek still was at him, he couldn’t help the small voice at the back of his mind acknowledging that this whole thing had worked out well for both of them. 

Didn’t mean he was going to stop being pissed any time soon. He didn’t care if it was childish, Boyd had to deal with the consequences of his actions. 

“Morning,” Boyd said to Erica. 

“Good morning,” Erica replied, voice lower than usual. Derek saw Stiles shifting behind her, and when his eyes rose to look at him, Stiles pretended to swoon behind her back. Derek laughed into his drink, but neither Erica nor Boyd seemed to notice. 

Stiles just moved around behind the table so he was over by the milk and sugar, leaving Erica and Boyd at the till. Derek obediently shifted over as well so they could keep talking. Nobody else had come up yet, so they could afford to take time to chat.  

“Is he going to be as nauseatingly sweet to her as I think he is?” Stiles asked. “Because if so, I might have to ban him from walking over here anymore and just deliver him the coffee myself.”

“If you ban him, your friend might retaliate by banning me.” It was out before Derek could stop himself, and he was about to take it back and insist he wasn’t implying anything, but Stiles just made an annoyed noise and spoke before he could. 

“I guess I can sacrifice my sanity if it means having you still walking over every now and again.” He grinned at Derek, then did an over-exaggerated wink. Derek would’ve felt embarrassed about it, except Stiles was so ridiculous he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he’d been so nervous to talk to him all this time, Stiles was so chill about virtually everything, it kind of felt like wasted time when he really thought about it. 

Stiles leaned forward on the table, opening his mouth to speak, but it groaned slightly and he hastily straightened, grabbing for the milk like he was scared it would tip over. 

“Smooth,” Erica called from the till. 

“Shut up,” he replied without even looking at her. 

“Are you working your whole break?” Derek asked, mostly so the two of them didn’t start bickering again. He didn’t think they would, Erica seemed pretty invested in keeping Boyd’s attention, but just in case. 

“Yeah, I do every winter.” 

Derek almost said, “I know.” He didn’t, but it was a near thing. 

“It must be hard sometimes,” Derek said. When Stiles gave him a weird look, he motioned over his shoulder with his free hand. “Watching people skate all day while you can’t take advantage of it.” 

“Oh. I mean, I like to people watch, so it’s not a bad gig. Besides, I can’t skate so I don’t know what I’m missing.” Stiles shrugged. 

“You can’t skate?” Derek hadn’t expected to hear him say that. He figured everyone knew how to skate, at least a little bit. It was basically the only free activity they had in town during the winter. 

“Yeah, I never learned. Most people come out here with their parents when they’re little, but mom was always too sick and dad was always working.” He shrugged again, like it was no big deal, but hearing him talk like that made Derek a little sad. “I don’t mind, I’m clumsy enough with both feet firmly planted on the ground. Probably manage to like, impale myself with my own skate if I ever tried.” 

Derek snorted at that, but doubted it. He’d have to be pretty flexible to achieve that, and now Derek had a visual, but it didn’t involve Stiles wearing skates. Or any clothing. Probably not a good thing to be thinking about with the guy standing right in front of him. 

“I only really learned because of hockey,” Derek blurted out, trying to get his thoughts back into safer waters. “I played it when I was younger. I’m not actually big on ice skating.”

“Really?” Stiles sounded surprised. “But you come out here every day.” 

Derek said nothing, feeling heat rising up the back of his neck. Stiles seemed to clue in a few seconds later, and Derek wasn’t sure, but he felt like his own cheeks turned a little pink and Stiles hastily started talking again. 

“I think it’s probably more fun if you’re skating with someone anyway. At least you have Boyd, and you’re not skating alone.” 

“I guess.” Derek didn’t know if that was true, but he could admit that most of the people he saw on the lake who were older tended to be couples. Maybe he’d feel differently about skating if he got to do it with someone he liked. 

He’d have asked Stiles, but clearly he couldn’t, considering. 

Before he could think on anything else to say to keep the conversation going, Stiles suddenly got hit in the side of the head with a snowball. He sputtered incoherently when some of it ended up in his mouth and whipped around to look at Erica. 

“Hey dingus, we’re going to a movie tonight. Bring your boyfriend.” 

Stiles ducked out of sight and reappeared with his own snowball, hurling it at Erica. She ducked it easily, since she’d been expecting it, but Stiles was apparently a master at deception, because he’d made two and followed the first one up immediately with a second. He’d been holding it in his other hand, so his throw didn’t land quite as well, given Derek assumed it was his least dominant hand, but it still hit her. 

She let out a loud, offended gasp and ducked out of sight. 

Derek took that as his cue to leave, thanked them both for the coffee, and he and Boyd caught each other’s eyes before hustling away, leaving the two of them to have their snowball fight without innocent bystanders as casualties. 

He’d seen them do things like this before, so it wasn’t really a surprise, but he found it kind of cute that the two of them didn’t care what people thought of them. This was who they were, and if Derek—and Boyd—didn’t like it, they knew where to get off. 

“You okay to see Deadpool and Wolverine tonight?” Boyd asked as they headed for the lake. 

“I never said I was joining you,” Derek argued. 

“Stiles is obviously going to come, and it’d be pretty shitty of you to leave him as a third wheel.” 

“Almost as shitty as tricking your best friend into going on a not-date with the guy he likes,” Derek responded dryly. 

Boyd had the decency to look apologetic when he said, “I said I was sorry, and it worked out in the end, so no harm done. Besides, he was just as nervous as you were.” 

Derek frowned as they stopped at the lake’s edge, turning to Boyd, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Erica laughed so hard she started choking while we were at dinner last night.” Boyd smiled endearingly, as if remembering the event clearly. Derek felt inclined to believe it was the laughing part he found endearing, not the choking. “I admitted to her that I’d liked her for a while, since I figured fair was fair given Stiles had spilled her secrets. I told her I’d pretended to be indifferent so I could ask for a trade to have Stiles go out with you, since he’d made it pretty clear to me he didn’t discriminate.” 

“And why did that make her laugh?” Derek asked. 

“Because,” Boyd said, dropping his bag on the ground and beginning to untie his boots, “Stiles has had the biggest crush on you for the past four years.” 

Somewhere out in the universe, some great supreme being was laughing at the four of them for being so colossally stupid.

Probably hard enough to choke. 

Stiles hadn’t realized how nice Derek was until the other man stopped being so nervous around him all the time. He definitely still had grumpiness as his default setting, and he scowled a lot more than Stiles felt a normal person should, but a lot of his misfortune probably stemmed from his Resting Bitch Face. Derek was actually really nice, and surprisingly funny. He had the same kind of dark sense of humour that Stiles did, and he loved it. 

It was also pretty cool getting to know Boyd. Whenever the pair of them came up to get their drinks, they spent more time chatting than actually out on the ice. Stiles was pretty sure Erica and Boyd were officially dating, though neither of them explicitly said so. He’d caught them kissing goodbye two days after their date when Boyd had to head out early. He tried to get Derek to find out for him, but Derek just arched an eyebrow at him and told him to figure things out for himself. 

What an asshole. 

Stiles loved him. 

While he wanted to spend all his time with Derek, he knew he couldn’t because he was missing out on time with his dad. He spent all day working with Erica, and his dad didn’t often get nights off. He’d felt guilty when he’d gone home to change before heading to the movie with Erica, Boyd and Derek, and found his dad sitting in his armchair watching TV. 

Stiles hadn’t realized he’d be home for dinner, and tried to cancel his plans before his dad waved him off and insisted it wasn’t a big deal. But it felt like a big deal, which was why he bailed on Erica when she asked if he wanted to grab a bite after work. 

“Dad’s home for dinner tonight,” he said as they broke down the canopy together so they could transport it back to the van on top of one of the tables, like always. “I doubt he’ll be up to making something, so we’re probably gonna go out. Won’t be free until closer to eight, probably, but we might also spend time together at home. If not, I can text you.” 

“I have plans with Boyd later tonight,” she said, and smacked him at the grin slowly spreading across his face. “Shut up, leave me alone. Don’t make me retaliate by teasing you about Derek.” 

“I’m not dating Derek,” he insisted cheekily. 

“Yet,” Erica countered, and he conceded her point. 

Clearly if he liked Derek, and Derek liked him, it was more than likely that he’d be leaving next week with a long-distance boyfriend. He knew most people argued long-distance didn’t work, but considering the two of them had had crushes on each other for four years, and neither of them had dated anyone in university, it stood to reason that they’d be fine. 

If they ever got to that point, obviously. Stiles didn’t want to push, and Derek was probably going to be too nervous to ask. He was sure they’d talk about it eventually though, Derek had gotten leagues better at talking to him like a normal person since their first outing. 

It didn’t take them long to get everything back to the van, and Stiles waved farewell before heading to his own car. He sat texting with his dad before actually starting the car, wanting to know what the plan was for dinner. He wasn’t sure if maybe he could cook them something, but it depended how hungry his dad was since anything he made would take a while. 

In the end, his dad said they could just eat at the diner, and while it wasn’t what Stiles necessarily wanted his dad to eat given his health issues, he was also pretty tired from going to bed late and waking up early every day so not having to make dinner was a plus. 

He’d been reading through a book series by Derek’s favourite author, and was kind of obsessed. He and Derek texted about it a lot as Stiles was reading well into the night. Derek kept hounding him to go to bed, but it was hard to put the books down! Stiles joked about how he wished he had a fireplace to curl up beside and read, but alas, he usually just read while lying in bed. 

Once he’d sorted everything out with his dad, he started the car and headed towards the diner. It was still pretty early for dinner, barely past five, but he knew his dad had gotten an early start to his day, and Stiles himself had eaten lunch closer to eleven, so he was peckish. 

When he pulled into the diner’s small lot, his eyes immediately strayed to a car he recognized, and while it was possible it belonged to someone else, the chances of that same exact car being in Beacon Hills and not belonging to Derek was pretty slim. 

Parking the Jeep, he climbed out and headed for the door. The waitress greeted him by name when he walked in and motioned for him to grab whatever booth he wanted. His eyes scanned the reasonably sized diner and he smiled when he saw Derek straighten in his seat a few booths away. 

He offered him a wave, but didn’t head over since Derek was eating with two girls—probably his sisters, given the resemblance. He just moved to go sit in one of the empty booths available, kind of sad his usual preferred booth was already taken. 

Not bothering with the menu, since he already knew what he wanted, he pulled his phone out to entertain himself while he waited on his dad, and clearly heard Derek doing that shout-whisper thing to someone before another person slid into the booth across from him. 

“Hi there. Stiles, right?” 

Stiles flicked his gaze to the booth Derek was in and could see him fighting with the other girl to get out of the booth. She’d been sitting beside him in the outside seat, so it was easy for her to twist her body around and use her planted feet to keep him in place despite how hard he pushed at her to be let out. 

While he was sure Derek could get out if he really wanted to, probably not without actually injuring her, so he likely figured embarrassment was better than a trip to the hospital because he overreacted. 

“Hi,” Stiles said, shifting his gaze to the girl. “And you are?” 

“Laura.” She held one hand out for him to shake, which he did. “I’m Derek’s older sister. That’s Cora.” She motioned over her shoulder. 

“Your parents named you Laura and Co—”

“Please don’t,” she said on an exasperated sigh. Clearly this was something she had heard many times in her life, and Stiles held up both hands in acquiescence, phone still held in his right one. 

“Well, you might be a sibling short in a minute,” Stiles said, motioning behind her. 

“Good, I’ve always wanted to be an only child, and Cora’s top of the list for us to bump off anyway.” Stiles gave her a weird look at that, and she leaned forward, lowering her voice slightly conspiratorially. “Derek and I are planning on splitting our parents’ life insurance fifty-fifty after we kill them. Cora’s gonna have to go eventually.” 

Stiles let out a laugh at that, and Laura grinned while leaning back in her own seat, crossing her arms.

“So glad I don’t have siblings.” 

“Lucky you,” she said. 

“I think it’s more my dad who’s lucky,” he argued, and she laughed. “So,” Stiles leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table, still holding his phone in one hand, “you over here to threaten me with bodily harm if I hurt your brother?” 

“No, that’s more Cora’s domain. I’m here to make him panic and wonder what kind of embarrassing stories I’m telling you.” 

“Are you going to tell me embarrassing stories?” Stiles asked curiously. 

“No, but he doesn’t know that.” She grinned at him, then turned and blew a kiss at her brother. He flipped her off across the diner, and shoved at Cora again. She was just leaning back hard into him, both feet planted firmly on the ground to stop from being shoved away from him, and was presumably playing a game on her phone. She looked almost bored, it was kind of funny. 

“Siblings are mean,” Stiles deduced. 

Laura just shrugged. “We like to fuck with each other, but we’re there when it matters. While I’m not going to give you the ‘you hurt him, I hurt you’ speech, I do care about him and I’m banking on you not being a total douchebag. That being said, I also know that sometimes things just don’t work out, so while I’m rooting for you guys, if things don’t work out, it’s just life.” She shrugged again. 

“I mean, we’re not actually dating or anything, so...” Stiles trailed off. 

“Only because you’re both too chicken to ask the other out.”

“Actually, I am giving him space,” Stiles countered, pointing a finger at her with the hand still gripping his phone. “He was kind of blindsided the other day when we met up at the mall, and I don’t want to push.” 

“But you want to date him,” she confirmed. 

“Of course I do. We have enough differences to make things interesting, but a lot of similarities too. It’s been really great getting to know him the past few days.” 

Laura smiled, and this one was a little less smarmy and more genuine. Kind of soft. “I’m really glad. You seem like a great guy, and I think it’s nice you’re both kind of getting what you want.” At Stiles’ confused look, she admitted, “Boyd told Derek what your friend said, and Derek is surprisingly talkative when he’s nervous.” 

“Ah,” Stiles said in understanding. Erica had admitted to him that she’d spilled the beans to Boyd about his crush on Derek. It didn’t matter, since Derek already liked him anyway, and besides, fair was fair. Stiles had kind of started it by outing her to Boyd, so he’d take the hit. It wasn’t like it was hurting him anyway. 

“Well, when you do end up going on a real date,” Laura said, getting to her feet, “I hope you guys have a good time.” 

“Thanks,” Stiles said, offering her a smile. 

“Enjoy your dinner.” 

“Thanks, you too.” 

She turned to head back towards her own booth just as his dad walked into the diner. Stiles realized she must have seen him coming in the window since everyone knew the sheriff. 

He was watching her walk back to her booth, looking confused, probably having noticed she’d been sitting with Stiles. He came to join him, groaning as he slid into the booth, likely lamenting what it was doing to his knees. 

“Who was that? Friend of yours?” 

“Derek’s sister.” 

“Oh, is he here?” 

Then his dad did that super annoying parent thing where he turned around to see if he could locate this guy Stiles had been crushing on for four years. 

Stiles almost buried his face in his hands, but managed to refrain. He might not have siblings, but man did he sure have a dad. 

“Dad, seriously?” he insisted, smacking at him across the table until he turned back around. 

“He the guy in the back booth? He’s a good looking kid.” 

“Yes, thank you, glad we’re bonding, order your food,” Stiles insisted, shoving his dad’s menu at him to make him stop being embarrassing. 

The sheriff just smiled privately to himself and took the menu. Thankfully he didn’t tease him any more than that, and he perused the food available despite the fact he was going to get the same thing he ordered every time they came here. 

Derek and his sisters got their food while Stiles and his dad were still waiting to order, so he knew they’d be done first. Stiles didn’t really pay much attention to them aside from that, because this was catch-up time with his dad, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t get distracted. 

His dad was planning on heading back to work after they were gone eating, since they were short-staffed and he had a few reports he needed to look over, even though he wasn’t scheduled to work. Stiles knew it was just the workaholic in him, but he often worried he was overworking himself. Though he was also kind of sad to be missing out on a full evening with his dad, but nothing he could do about it. With Erica busy, he was probably going to go home and read since he had nothing better to do. 

When his dad stood up after their meal to head to the bathroom, Stiles saw Derek and his sisters standing beside their booth, putting their coats and various hats and scarves back on. While it was clear Derek wanted his sisters to wait for him outside, they followed him anyway as he headed over to Stiles. Derek just looked defeated, but not surprised. 

“Hey,” Stiles said with a smile as he approached. 

“Hi,” Derek grunted back, turning to scowl at his sisters when Cora pretended to swoon into Laura’s arms. 

Stiles already knew he loved them, because Cora had just done exactly what Stiles did whenever Erica was around Boyd, and that was hilarious. 

Also reaffirmed that he and Erica were basically siblings in every way but blood. 

“You free later?” 

Stiles stared at him. No way Derek had just come over to ask to hang out when Stiles had literally just found out he’d be alone tonight. What were the odds? 

Good, apparently. And thank God for that. 

“Yeah, totally. Dad’s heading back to work in a few hours, so it’ll just be me, myself and I.” 

“They want to go see Deadpool and Wolverine,” Derek muttered, motioning his sisters. “They haven’t seen it yet. Our parents are having date night, so we generally try and stay out of the house. It’s the only movie we could all agree on.” He shifted his weight a little uncomfortably. “I know we already saw it, but I figured—”

“Dude, fuck yeah. I’d definitely see that again, it was awesome. What time?”

“Movie’s at seven,” Laura said, moving in to lean off Derek. He looked annoyed about it, but didn’t say anything, or shrug her off. “We can meet at the theatre, if that works.”

“Sure, sounds great.” Stiles smiled, checking the time on his phone. “We’re almost done here, so I can meet you guys there around six forty-five?” 

“Perfect.” Laura leaned over to kiss Derek’s cheek loudly, and he leaned away from her, making a face. She didn’t seem bothered, releasing her brother and turning for the door with a wave over her shoulder. “See you there.” 

“See you in a bit,” Derek agreed, turning to leave. 

Cora lingered for a second longer, Derek glancing at her when she moved past him. Stiles leaned back in his seat when she got right in his face, one hand braced against the table, and the other pointing a finger at him. 

“Your dad might be a cop, but I’m a biological sciences major, and my best friend is a certified genius. You hurt him, they will never find your body.” 

Derek grabbed at the hood of her jacket to haul her up, but she kept eye contact with Stiles, and motioned between herself and him, denoting she was watching him. Stiles just raised both hands in surrender, and couldn’t help laughing as she was forcibly dragged from the diner, Derek’s face a thundercloud even as it turned bright red from embarrassment. 

“Everything okay?” his dad asked, sliding into the booth a few seconds later, evidently having missed the exchange. 

“Just being threatened with murder,” he informed him. 

“So nothing new for you,” his dad teased and Stiles pretended to be offended. 

What an absolute jerk of a dad. 

Derek wanted to know how he always got stuck doing all the errands for his family. Wasn’t there a joke somewhere about how the middle child always got forgotten or something? Laura as the eldest should have the weight of high expectations on her shoulders, Cora as the baby should be coddled and given everything she wanted, and Derek as the middle child should be summarily dismissed and ignored as if he didn’t exist. 

But somehow, Laura got coddled, Cora got away with murder, and Derek was sent out on errands. Unfair. 

Un. Fair. 

“How am I supposed to know which one to get?” Derek demanded grumpily, staring down at two different kinds of canned tomatoes. His mother had asked him to get canned tomatoes, the ones she needed for her chili recipe, but that meant literally nothing to him. Sure, he ate the chili, but he didn’t make it. Was he meant to get the diced or whole tomatoes? There were also crushed tomatoes, as well as stewed and pureed tomatoes. 

He was pretty sure the only one of all the choices he didn’t have to get was the paste, but even as he thought that, he started second guessing himself and picked that can up as well, trying to figure out what he should be getting. 

He was two seconds away from grabbing his phone to call his mom when someone appeared beside him, almost too close, and he jerked away from them before fully registering what they’d said. 

“Tomatoes do something to offend you?” 

When Derek finally focussed on the words, and the person beside him, he relaxed slightly and offered him a small smile. “They decided to make my life miserable by having too many types in cans.” 

“Ah,” Stiles said, nodding in understanding. “The dreaded ‘but which one do I need’ feeling. I get it.” He reached out to pick up some tomato sauce, dropping into his basket before looking at Derek again. “What are you trying to make?” 

“Not me, my mom. She’s making chili.” 

“Oh, then you want diced tomatoes.” Stiles reached over to grab a large can of diced tomatoes, holding it out to Derek. “Some people use whole tomatoes, but end up cutting them before putting them in the actual chili, so what’s the point? Might as well start with them already diced.” 

Derek nodded a thanks, taking the can from him, then grabbing a second one since she’d asked for two. 

He would’ve been surprised to see Stiles out and about in the middle of the day, but apparently something had happened overnight in the Preserve and it was closed for the moment. Derek didn’t know if it was an animal attack or anything, but he assumed it had something to do with the trees. One year the weight of the snow had caused a large number of trees to break apart and collapse. It was mostly the branches, but some trees that were rotted inside had just fully fallen over. It had been deemed unsafe in the Preserve and they’d had to close it for a few weeks until they could ensure people’s safety. 

That had been long before Derek had been going out there to see Stiles, so it hadn’t bothered him at the time. Now, if he and Stiles hadn’t already become kind of friends and exchanged numbers, he’d have been pretty upset.

“You seem to know a lot about tomatoes,” Derek informed him, the two of them continuing down the aisle together. Stiles reached out to grab some spaghetti as they passed the pasta, but nothing else. 

“I know a lot about cooking in general,” Stiles admitted. “Mom and I used to make dinner for dad back when I was little. After she passed, I started making dinner instead. It was nothing super fancy when I was like, ten to thirteen, since dad didn’t want me using the stove unsupervised, but when I was older and allowed to, I started to kind of branch out and try different things.” He shrugged. “I’ve always been the cook of the house, so I guess I know more about food than most people my age.” 

Derek would’ve made a joke about how his dad was nuts to trust Stiles with the stove even now, considering how clumsy he allegedly was, but he didn’t want to make light of what must have been a pretty hard childhood. 

Everyone knew about the sheriff’s wife passing away his second year in office, and how hard it had been for him. Especially with the job he had, since it was pretty demanding and meant a lot of time out of the house. Derek had never asked, but he assumed Stiles had spent a lot of afternoons at Erica’s place with her after school while the sheriff was at work. Hell, he probably slept over a lot too while he was still young if the sheriff was on the night shift. 

He wanted to apologize, but somehow that felt like the wrong thing to say. Stiles hadn’t told him this because he wanted Derek to feel sorry for him, he’d told him this because he was explaining why he knew so much about fucking canned tomatoes. 

Eventually, he managed to say, “I bet you’re a great cook.” 

When Stiles turned to beam at him, he relaxed slightly, realizing that had definitely been the right thing to say. 

“Thanks. I like to think I’m not bad. Dad says I’m all right, but he always takes away my chef points when I make something healthy, so he’s kind of biassed.” Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“You grabbing stuff for dinner now?” 

“Nah, we’ve got pork in the fridge so I was gonna make a pot roast later. I was feeling like having pasta for lunch, and figured the sauce freezes well and dad can have some for lunch for the next little while.” He motioned his basket, which did mostly have ingredients consistent with making spaghetti bolognaise. He hesitated for a moment, eying Derek, then said, “You eat lunch yet?” 

It took everything in Derek not to blurt out an answer immediately like an idiot, but his heart started pounding in his chest when he said, “Not yet.” 

“Wanna come over and have some pasta? Or do you need to get home to your mom with the groceries?” 

“No,” he said quickly, then winced at how quickly. “Uh, no. She doesn’t need them for tonight, we’re having something on the barbecue. She wants to make chili tomorrow.” 

“Cool.” Stiles smiled again and waggled his basket at Derek. “So you up for some pasta then?” 

“Sounds great.” 

“Awesome. Let me finish up my shopping, you finish yours, and we can meet at checkout.” 

Derek nodded, then he and Stiles parted ways to grab the rest of what they needed. They ended up bumping into each other again in the produce section, Stiles bagging some apples while Derek grabbed some strawberries so his mother could make jam. She made the best strawberry jam. 

“I’m glad I ran into you,” Derek admitted as he waited beside Stiles, having finished with everything on the list he’d been given. “I’m actually pretty hungry, and hadn’t even really figured out what to make for lunch yet.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said with a little smirk. “Well, orange you glad I asked you to come over?” he asked, winking at him while grabbing an orange and dropping it into his basket. 

Derek remembered the fiasco with the latte pun the last time he’d attempted this, but he was less nervous around Stiles now, so he looked around briefly, caught sight of another fruit, then smirked himself while turning back to Stiles. 

“I’m very grapeful for the invite.” 

Stiles let out a loud, pleased gasp and punched at Derek’s shoulder. “Puns! Fuck yeah!” He immediately clicked his teeth together and looked around, clearly worried he’d sworn in front of a kid or something, but the produce section was mostly empty. The store in general wasn’t very busy today, so he was safe this time. 

“I love puns,” Stiles informed him as they both headed towards the checkout. “Not a lot of people get them though, so I end up looking like an idiot.” 

“I like puns too,” Derek admitted, the two of them standing in the same line. “Actually, you punned me once, but I was too distracted to figure it out right away and only recognized what you’d done hours later. I tried to pun you back, but I got nervous and messed it up.” 

“Oh really?” Stiles asked, grabbing a separator for the conveyer belt and beginning to unload his groceries. “What was it?” 

“I don’t remember yours, but I was trying to say ‘thanks a latte’ and it came out as ‘thanks for the latte’ instead.” 

“Oh!” Stiles snapped his fingers and pointed at Derek, momentarily pausing in what he was doing. “Oh my God, I remember that! I was so confused that day. I thought I’d messed up your order but you didn’t want to deal with my incompetence any longer and just left with what you got instead.” 

“No, I was trying to be punny, and failed.” 

Stiles patted his shoulder comfortingly before going back to putting things on the conveyer belt. “It was a very good pun, you can use it on me next time.” 

“But you already know it now.”

“It’ll still be just as good hearing it unexpectedly, promise.” Stiles put his basket in the return under the conveyer belt and smiled at him. “Puns are always good, no matter how many times you hear them.” 

Derek chose to take his word for it, and figured he’d try and do it on the last day they were both around. 

When there was enough space for his things, Stiles put another separator down and Derek began unloading his own groceries. They got through checkout relatively quickly, and Stiles gave Derek directions to his place in case they got separated during the drive. They didn’t, but he appreciated it all the same. 

Stiles parked in the driveway so Derek took the spot at the curb, not wanting to take the sheriff’s spot in case he came home. He found out once they were inside that he actually had taken the sheriff’s spot since he didn’t park beside Stiles in the driveway, but he wasn’t due back for hours so Stiles told him not to worry about it.

He got to work making the sauce for their lunch, handing Derek a Coke from the fridge and a bowl of pistachios to tide him over until the food was ready. Derek ate his way through all of them as he sat at the counter, watching Stiles cook and trying to push back how sad he felt at why Stiles could cook so well. 

Stiles himself didn’t seem to mind it, moving around the kitchen easily and getting an onion chopped so fast Derek felt like it hadn’t even had time to make him cry. Derek offered to help him twice, but Stiles just waved him off and insisted he was fine and worked better on his own anyway. Derek figured he was just used to it, so he let it drop. 

They didn’t talk about anything important while Stiles cooked, mostly just about school and what they were studying. Derek talked about his major for a little bit, and confirmed he would be coming back after he graduated. Stiles said the same thing, and Derek hadn’t realized how worried he’d been about Stiles never coming back to town after school until that moment. Hearing him confirm he was moving back after graduation was such a relief. 

When the food was done, they both went to sit at the table, and Derek had what was probably the best spaghetti bolognaise he’d ever had in his life. And it wasn’t because Stiles was the one who’d made it, it was because it was good. And he told him so. 

That seemed to make Stiles happy, and he went off on a tangent about all his favourite dishes, and what he loved making versus what he didn’t. Apparently his all time favourite dish was a massive pain in the ass to make so he tended not to very often, but he still did whenever he had a hankering for it. 

It was while Stiles was explaining that it was just a lot of chopping and waiting around watching the food to make sure it didn’t burn that Derek realized... 

He was being stupid. 

He was literally being so stupid. 

They were both going back to school in just under five days, and here he was, having lunch with Stiles, knowing Stiles liked him the same way he did Stiles, and not doing anything about it. 

He hadn’t meant to interrupt him, but when the realization struck him, he needed to get the words out before he lost his nerve, so while Stiles was in the middle of a sentence, Derek said, “We should go on a date.” 

That shut Stiles up instantly. 

“We should—I am asking you out. We should go out. On a date.” 

His heart was pounding like crazy in his chest, but even as he nervously awaited a response and his brain screamed at him that he’d made a huge mistake, Stiles smiled at him, warm and bright, and nodded. 

“Sure. Yeah, I would really like that.” 

“Great.” Derek didn’t know what else to say, then realized they needed an actual day ironed out. “When are you free?” 

“Tomorrow and the day after. The rest of the time, dad booked nights off so we can hang out before I head back to school.” 

“Tomorrow’s good,” Derek said. He didn’t know if he and his family had plans tomorrow, but he knew they’d understand if he had to bail. He’d be around for the end of his time there anyway, same as Stiles would be for his dad, so he doubted any of them would care. 

Stiles smiled. “Tomorrow then.” 

And with that, he went back to eating, and ever so kindly helped ease Derek’s frazzled nerves by continuing what he’d been saying before Derek had interrupted him. 

When Stiles climbed out of Derek’s dope ass Camaro an hour and a half away from Beacon Hills, he had no idea what he’d been expecting, but this certainly wasn’t it. 

“Is this an ice rink?” he asked, utterly confused. 

Derek came around the car to stand beside him, looking surprisingly calm about the whole thing considering how nervous he’d been to even ask Stiles out despite knowing Stiles liked him. 

“It is,” he confirmed. 

“Why are we at an ice rink?” Stiles asked, obediently following beside Derek when the other man started walking them towards the entrance, aiming his key behind himself to lock his car. “I can’t skate.” 

“I know,” Derek said. “It’s why I figured this was a good place to go. You don’t own any skates, so we can rent some for you, and being out this far means you’ll feel less nervous about anything embarrassing that happens since no one you know will be here to see you.” 

“Uh, you’re here,” Stiles reminded him emphatically. “You’re like, literally the last person I want to make an ass of myself in front of.” 

“You’re not gonna make an ass of yourself,” Derek argued, pulling open the door for him. 

“You don’t know that,” Stiles argued, but obediently walked into the building. He turned to look out at the rink apprehensively, watching the multitude of people skate around in circles. It felt so much more daunting than the lake, for some reason, but he figured it was because he didn’t have to skate at the lake. People came to hang out without skating all the time. Here, it was a literal ice rink. Wasn’t like people came around for the food.

Or maybe they did, he didn’t know, he’d never been there before, maybe they had good hot dogs. 

He’d been distracted watching the people on the ice, so he didn’t notice Derek paying for them until the other man touched his shoulder to lead them further in towards where the skate rental place was. Derek had brought his own, made evident by the bag he had over his shoulder, and Stiles glanced out at the ice again. 

“So to be clear, your grand plan for our first date in your head has been for us to come ice skating in a random rink an hour away from home?” 

“No,” Derek said, standing in the line for the rentals. There were only two people in front of them.

Stiles wished there were thirty. 

“Like I told you, skating isn’t really my favourite thing in the world, but when you told me you couldn’t skate, and then commented on how maybe I would like it more if I had someone to skate with, it got me thinking and I changed the plans.” 

“Oh, so it’s my fault I’m about to get embarrassed beyond belief,” Stiles said motioning himself. 

Derek just laughed. 

Like an asshole. 

There was only one person in front of them now. 

“Just so you know, I don’t have any life insurance.”

Derek turned to give him a weird look at that and Stiles flapped an arm at him. 

“Laura told me about your plans to kill your parents and Cora for their life insurance. Just wanted to share for when I impale myself with my own skate that I don’t have any.” 

Derek laughed again, this one a little more startled, like he couldn’t believe Laura had told Stiles about that or that Stiles was taking this whole thing so seriously. 

Stiles took dying due to his own clumsiness very seriously, thank you! It was a miracle he hadn’t already! 

The person in front of them moved away, and the bored looking attendant called them forward. Stiles obediently gave his shoe size and was handed a pair of skates in exchange for some cash and his ID. Apparently they had problems with people stealing their skates, so holding onto someone’s ID had become the norm to ensure they got the skates back. 

The place closer to Beacon Hills usually just took a deposit and refunded it when they got the skates back, but that was also a much smaller place and people tended to be pretty good about not stealing from it. 

Or so Stiles had heard, since he’d never been there. 

They went to find themselves an empty locker to put their shoes in, and then sat down on one of the benches right in front of it, Derek having pocketed the key. His skates were much nicer than Stiles’ were, which made sense since they belonged to Derek. They were clearly hockey skates though, just based on what they looked like, though Stiles knew Derek must’ve bought them well after his stint playing hockey since he’d said it was when he was younger.

He’d probably gotten used to hockey skates and just opted for new ones when he’d grown out of them even if he wasn’t playing anymore. 

Stiles took his time lacing his own up, finding them extremely uncomfortable, but also knowing a part of him was trying to get out of this whole thing. It was going to be a fucking disaster, Stiles knew it already, but he eventually ran out of laces and Derek was sitting beside him waiting, so he tied it off and sat up. 

“How are we meant to get to the ice in these?” 

“You walk,” Derek said, looking amused. 

Stiles wasn’t amused. 

He was very not amused. 

“I can’t even walk properly wearing shoes, you expect me not to fall over? We’re not even on the ice yet, and I’m already gonna end up on my ass!” 

“You’ll be fine,” Derek insisted, getting to his feet and moving in front of him, holding one hand up to help him up. “I’ve got you. And I’m not expecting you to figure skate your way around the rink, Stiles. I just want you to have the opportunity to try this. If you absolutely hate it, we don’t have to stay, we can just give it a few minutes and then head out if you want.” 

Stiles wanted to leave now, but he acknowledged that Derek had paid for them to spend time here, and he also knew Derek wasn’t trying to be a dick about this. He was legitimately trying to help him learn how to skate, and he’d gone out of his way to make sure it was far from home so they were less likely to run into people they knew. 

After all, he could have just taken Stiles to the one close to town, but he hadn’t. He’d wanted Stiles to feel as comfortable as possible, so as much as he hated this whole thing and knew he was going to fall on his ass repeatedly, he obediently grabbed at Derek’s hand. 

“If I lose a finger, you’re losing some teeth,” he warned. 

“Noted,” Derek said, amused. 

He pulled Stiles up, and Stiles immediately lost his balance and almost fell. Derek grabbed at him just as Stiles wrapped both arms around him to keep himself standing. Derek, the jerk, actually laughed, and Stiles slapped him hard in the back. 

“You’re overthinking this,” Derek insisted. 

“I am not overthinking trying to walk on two spindly little pieces of metal!” Stiles argued. 

“It’s like riding a bike, except it’s two of them, and they’re attached to your feet.” 

“That is nothing like riding a bike!” 

Derek laughed again, and the only reason Stiles wasn’t pissed at him was because he knew Derek wasn’t laughing at him. If anything, he was laughing because he found Stiles cute, and that was kind of the only reason Stiles’ dignity wasn’t already in shreds. 

“I’ve got you,” Derek repeated. “Just take your time.” 

Stiles felt like this was going to go horribly if he already couldn’t stand up properly and they weren’t even on the slippery shit yet! But, he was determined not to ruin their night, so he forced himself to figure out what the fuck he was doing. He realized he was trying to treat the skates as regular shoes—which made sense—and was thus twisting his foot too much to get them flat on the ground. As soon as he kind of sorted out his own balance, he managed to stand upright like a normal person and loosened his death grip on Derek’s middle. 

Derek kept hold of him until he was sure Stiles was standing on his own, and then let him go. 

Okay. This wasn’t bad. Stiles had just—been overthinking it, like Derek had said. 

It was still really awkward walking with them, since his foot didn’t bend how it usually did when he walked, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d originally made it out to be. Derek still took his hand before beginning to walk them to the entrance for the rink, just to make sure he still had a good hold on him in case Stiles lost his footing. 

Stiles scowled out at the ice when he saw a girl who couldn’t be older than ten zooming around the rink like she was trying to break a world record. 

There were a few entrances onto the ice, but Derek took them to the furthest one, obviously trying to help Stiles get used to the skates, and probably also to give him more time to come to terms with what they were about to do. 

Stiles saw an older man around his dad’s age slip and fall onto his ass. He winced in sympathy pain, and could feel his tail bone throbbing in anticipation of all the falls he himself was going to have. 

“Okay,” Derek said when the attendant by the door opened it for them. Derek turned, grabbing both of Stiles’ hands in his, and walked back until he was on the ice. 

The bastard was fucking backwards on the ice. He was going to skate backwards when Stiles couldn’t even walk in the damn things! 

Rude. So rude. 

“I’ve got you,” he said, yet again, tightening his grip on both of Stiles’ hands. “We’re gonna go slow. You don’t even have to move yet, I’ll pull us along, okay?” 

Stiles tried not to pout about this whole thing, and just nodded his agreement, moving forward slowly and stopping just before stepping onto the ice. While Derek was the last person he wanted to see him wipe out, Derek himself had been terrified that day at the mall when Stiles had shown up without warning—to him, anyway. If Derek had toughed that whole experience out, Stiles could fucking try ice skating for ten minutes. 

Maybe five. 

Letting out a harsh exhale, he put one foot onto the ice, felt himself slide a little when he lifted his back foot, and hastily put that one on the ice as well. 

“Okay, I’m on the ice. I made it. I’m here,” Stiles said, bending his knees and hunching his shoulders, gripping Derek’s hands tightly. 

The jerk laughed again, but held on just as tight, and glanced over his shoulder to turn a little and make sure no one was behind him, then began to follow the flow of people moving in a circle, skating backwards while still holding Stiles’ hands and pulling him along. 

Stiles immediately felt like he was going to fall when he got pulled forward, but surprisingly he kept his feet. He still stayed hunched for a few seconds until Derek told him to straighten up a bit so he didn’t hurt his back. 

It was hard to obey, but Stiles did eventually. He just had a weird illusion of the fall being less far if he was hunching, even though he knew that made no sense. 

They went around the rink at least twice with Derek just pulling Stiles along, skating backwards and occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t bash into anyone. After a few minutes, Derek slowed his skating slightly and motioned for Stiles to give it a try. 

He knew he wasn’t meant to walk, because while he’d never skated before, he knew it was about gliding, so he tried to pretend he was wearing very sharp socks on a wood floor and moved his feet a little bit. Derek kept hold of both hands, still skating backwards, but more to keep in front of him as opposed to pulling him along now. 

It took a while, but Stiles slowly managed to get the hang of it, shuffling his feet enough that he felt like he was actually skating instead of just sliding along the ice. It was weird, because it was kind of like gliding, but also kind of like walking since he still had to take his foot off the ice every now and then. 

He knew falling was inevitable, but he was surprised to get through a good twenty minutes before he actually hit the ice. Derek had let him go so Stiles could try skating on his own, and while he’d done well for a minute or so, he’d overdone one of his steps and ended up on his ass after windmilling his arms. Derek had tried to grab for him, but Stiles literally hit him in the face and knocked him back. 

Thankfully Derek didn’t end up on his ass, but Stiles felt fucking awful. Not only did his tail bone hurt now, but he’d basically punched his date in the face. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, sitting on the ice and keeping his fists tightly closed to avoid anyone skating over his hand and losing him a finger. 

“It’s okay, sorry I couldn’t grab you in time.” Derek had crouched in front of him, showcasing his epic skating skills. 

Skating backwards, crouching, all the stuff Stiles could barely do with real shoes. 

Jerk. 

“You wanna try again?” 

“What if I hit you again?” 

Derek just shrugged. “You hurt your back, I hurt my face. Seems like a fair trade.” 

Stiles snorted at that, but didn’t say anything, looking around. The older man he’d seen fall earlier was still skating around with a woman who was probably his wife, or girlfriend. He’d fallen and kept going, and it wasn’t like anyone had laughed when Stiles had fallen. They’d just moved around him, and he’d even noticed one woman turn to look at him, as if making sure he was okay, but she’d kept going when she saw Derek crouched in front of him. 

Nobody cared that he’d fallen, least of all Derek. And while yeah, his ass hurt, the whole skating thing was actually kind of cool. He almost felt like he was floating, and he kind of liked that. Besides, this was meant to be their date, and while he was sure food was also part of the plan, he didn’t want to cut their night short because he was being a baby. 

“Okay. Help me up,” Stiles said, holding one hand out to Derek. The other man smiled and stood, then helped Stiles get back to his feet. 

It was a lot harder than Stiles thought it would be, but he managed to get himself balanced once more, and they went back to slowly skating circles around the rink, Derek still skating backwards. 

Stiles almost fell another two times, but Derek managed to catch him both of those times so he didn’t hurt himself—or Derek—again. He didn’t know how long they were out on the ice for, but he estimated at least an hour before he felt comfortable with skating. He definitely wasn’t a pro, but when he didn’t think about it too much, it was actually pretty easy. 

And kind of fun. He thought maybe he might see about going to the rink they had on the university campus to improve a little bit, get more comfortable with it. He was sure someone there would be willing to help him out. He didn’t want to get a formal teacher, because he wasn’t trying to be a pro skater or anything, but maybe he could find someone who skated regularly and see if they’d be willing to help him get more used to this. 

But really, even now, he felt like he was doing okay. Derek had moved from skating backwards in front of him, to facing forward and skating beside him. Their hands brushed together every now and then, and Stiles found it kind of funny Derek seemed hesitant to take his hand. He’d literally just been holding both of his hands while helping him skate, but he figured Derek saw that as being different. 

It took a few additional brushes, but eventually he did very slowly reach out for Stiles’ stand and threaded their fingers together. Stiles smiled to himself about it, but didn’t tease Derek. 

Derek hadn’t laughed about him falling or anything, so Stiles wasn’t going to be a jerk about this either. Besides, he was happy to hold Derek’s hand, and he didn’t want him to pull it free. 

“If I fall, I’m taking you with me,” Stiles warned. 

“You say that as if I’ve never fallen for you before,” was Derek’s witty retort. 

Stiles laughed sarcastically at him, but had to admit, that had been a good comeback. He tightened his grip on Derek’s hand, and continued making circles with him. 

This was nice.

It was really nice. 

Derek thought maybe Stiles had a point about how different skating must be when it was being done with someone other than just a friend, because he never wanted to get off the ice. He was starting to get a bit cold, and he could tell Stiles was too, but he was really liking this whole thing. 

After Stiles had gotten more comfortable with skating, they’d started talking a little bit, but he’d also been fine with the bouts of silence when Stiles was concentrating on what he was doing. It was just really nice, and he was glad he’d done this. 

He’d been a bit nervous at first, because Stiles had looked really put out about the whole thing, but when he’d pitched the idea to Erica, she had been adamant that if Stiles didn’t want to do something, he would say so. The fact that he hadn’t flat out said no made Derek feel like maybe it would be okay. And while it was clear Stiles wasn’t happy about it, Derek had clued in pretty early on that it was about embarrassment more than anything.

Stiles didn’t want to fall and make an ass of himself, but he wouldn’t make an ass of himself. People fell on the ice all the time, even professionals. It was just something that happened, and no one laughed about it. 

Which was exactly what had happened when Stiles had eventually fallen. No one had laughed at him. Hell, no one had even really looked at him. Derek had noticed a few people glance over to make sure he was okay, but most of them had ignored him because falling on the ice was just something that happened. 

He was glad Stiles hadn’t called it quits after the first fall. He’d honestly been worried he would, but he’d just gotten back up and tried again, and while he was definitely still unsteady on his feet, he seemed to be enjoying himself. 

And skating around with him had been really fun, and somehow different from skating with Boyd, just like Stiles had implied. It really did make a difference who he was with, and that kind of helped make him understand why so many people liked skating. 

Unfortunately, as much as he wanted this to continue, he’d actually made a dinner reservation and they were going to be late if they didn’t head out soon. He’d had a backup plan if Stiles had decided to call it quits right out of the gate—there was a literal three story arcade just five blocks away—but he was really glad this had worked out.

It was easier to chat while going around an ice rink than in a loud arcade. 

When they neared one of the doors closer to where the lockers were, Derek tightened his grip and slowed, half-pulling Stiles with him since he still hadn’t really figured out how to slow down or stop yet. Stiles turned to him, a questioning look on his face. 

“We have to head out. I made reservations for dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” Stiles let Derek pull him towards the door, a curious look on his face. “You know, it’s weird. I can’t decide if I’m happy, or upset that we’re done here for the night.” 

Derek laughed while nodding a thanks to the attendant who pulled the door open for them, stepping out onto the padded floor. Stiles followed and tripped immediately. Thankfully they were still holding hands and he’d been half-behind Derek, so Derek managed to stop him from falling. 

“Right. Have to actually walk now.” 

“I’ve definitely done that before too,” Derek admitted, making sure Stiles had his footing back before moving away a step. He kept hold of his hand though as they headed back for the lockers. 

Grabbing for it had been nerve-wracking but he felt like Stiles had been brushing his hand along Derek’s more than necessary on purpose, so he’d just bitten the bullet and gone for it. A good decision, considering they’d held hands this entire time, all the way to the lockers even. 

When they reached them, Derek let his hand go and Stiles sat down on the bench. Derek got their shoes out of the lockers and Stiles hugged his sneakers to his chest. 

“Oh, I love you so much.” 

Derek snorted and fell down beside him, the two of them switching out their skates for shoes. Derek cleaned off the blades before putting the guards back on and getting them back in his bag, then stood when he was ready to go. Stiles followed suit, holding the rentals, and they walked back to the desk with them. They traded Stiles’ ID for the skates, the guy giving it a long, hard look, for some reason. 

Derek didn’t know why until he saw Stiles putting it back in his wallet and caught sight of the name. He hadn’t gotten a good look at it, but Stiles’ first name started with an M, was extremely long, and had both a Z and a W in it. 

“Your name isn’t Stiles?” he asked curiously as they headed for the exit. 

Stiles snorted, turning to give him a look. “You really think my parents named me Stiles Stilinski? How much do you think they hated me?” 

Derek shrugged. “My parents named my sisters Laura and Cora. Apparently they were hoping to have another boy too to name him Eric, so we would’ve been Laura, Cora, Derek and Eric.” 

“Rough,” Stiles said, pushing open the door and wincing when the cold wind bit them in the face. Derek hoped the restaurant was warm, because going from the cold air outside to a cold rink inside, and then back to the cold air outside was going to have them getting sick real fast. 

“So what is it?” Derek asked as they headed for the Camaro. “Your name, I mean.” 

“Why? You won’t be able to pronounce it,” Stiles teased. 

“Are you embarrassed?” 

Stiles shrugged. “I guess not, it’s just a mouthful.”

“So what is it?” Derek asked again.

He knew Stiles wouldn’t tell him if he didn’t want to, but he seemed less like he didn’t want to share it, and more like it was inconsequential since no one called him by that name. “It’s Mieczyslaw. It’s my grandfather’s name on my mother’s side. He’s of Polish descent.” 

“That must’ve been fun for you to write when you were little,” Derek said, unlocking the Camaro and pulling open the driver’s side door. 

“I couldn’t even pronounce it when I was little, let alone spell it.” Stiles snorted, pulling open his own door and falling into his seat. They buckled themselves in as he continued. “I used to call myself Mischief because it was the best I could do. When I got to middle school, everyone struggled with my name, and I remember I got mad at my parents and cried because I was worried no one would be my friend since they couldn’t say my name.” He rolled his eyes as Derek started the car, turning to look at him. “It was a stupid thing to be upset about, especially since Erica was already my friend, so it was a dumb argument.” 

“Kids get scared of that kind of stuff,” Derek insisted with a shrug, seeing where Stiles was coming from. He pulled out of the parking lot, turning down the street to head for the restaurant. “Is that when you switched to Stiles?” 

“Yeah. It was a nickname for my grandfather on my dad’s side. I started using it basically the next day, and I’ve been Stiles ever since. Every time I go somewhere new, I tell people to just call me Stiles, so most of them don’t even know I have a different first name.” Stiles laughed and shook his head. “It almost screwed me in one of my classes last semester. I always sit in the front row to make sure I don’t get distracted, so all of the professors know me. I have a really good relationship with my calculus professor, so when I logged onto the portal during midterms to check my grade, I saw that he also graded on attendance and I had zero percent on that. I went to talk to him after my next class and he was shocked to find out that Mieczyslaw was me. He deadass thought the dude had only shown up for the midterm, had no idea.” He laughed again, as if remembering how the conversation had gone down. “He did admit he probably should’ve clued in because he couldn’t find my name on the roster, but I guess a part of him figured maybe I wasn’t actually enrolled and he didn’t say anything because he liked me.” 

“I guess you’ve been letting all your professors know then?” Derek asked, smiling slightly as he eased to a stop behind another car at a red light. 

“Oh yeah, after that debacle I went to all of my professors to tell them what my real name was. I didn’t want to risk any of them doing the same thing without me knowing, and failing a class I actually did well in because of faulty attendance.” 

“I find attendance kind of stupid, to be honest,” Derek admitted as the light turned green and he pressed on the gas. “Don’t get me wrong, I go to all my classes, but I am of the opinion that if someone is paying to go to school and they don’t go to class, it’s not the professor’s business. If they hand in the assignments and they pass the midterm and final, what does it matter if they don’t go to class?” 

Stiles shrugged. “Pride, I guess. Or maybe it’s because too many professors get accused of being bad at their job when the students are failing but it’s not the teaching that’s bad, it’s the students not showing up.” 

“Maybe,” Derek conceded. He’d never thought of it that way, but he supposed it made sense. 

Stiles moved on to talking about one of his professors and how he was pretty sure the guy was actually a mad scientist. Derek doubted it, but he laughed anyway because Stiles’s imitations were ridiculous. They pulled into the lot for the restaurant not long after that, and Stiles perked up immediately. 

“Italian?” 

“I figured you could try someone else’s spaghetti,” Derek said with a smile. Stiles beamed at him and climbed out of the car. 

Derek was glad he was excited about it. He honestly hadn’t really known where to bring him for dinner, but it wasn’t exactly a secret in town that the sheriff wasn’t well off. He got by, and he’d obviously saved up enough to help Stiles get into a good school—though Stiles had already admitted he’d gotten a scholarship, but that didn’t cover all expenses, so his dad still had to pay for a lot of it. 

He was sure Stiles didn’t get to eat out anywhere fancier than the diner, so he’d figured Italian might be a good choice. It was pasta, which he already knew Stiles liked, and this way he would get to eat something good that he didn’t have to make. 

Not that the diner wasn’t good, but again, Stiles probably knew the menu by heart. Derek had wanted to do something different for their date. 

They had to wait in a small line while the hostess got people set up, or told them to wait if they didn’t have reservations, but they made it to the front before their scheduled reservation. Derek knew they had a fifteen minute window before it’d be given away, but he still didn’t want to be late, it felt rude to the other people waiting. 

The hostess brought them to their table right away, and a server came by soon afterwards. Stiles joked with them a lot, and that honestly made Derek love him even more. Stiles was always so nice to everyone, and especially for people in this industry, they probably really appreciated having someone who didn’t treat them like servants. 

Derek had worried at first that the dinner part of their date would be awkward and they’d have nothing to talk about, but he had no idea why he’d ever worried about that. Stiles talked about anything and everything all the time—which Derek loved, because listening to him talk was fascinating—and on top of that, this wasn’t the first time they’d had a meal together. 

This was no different than the conversations they’d been having on the ice, either. It was just a different setting. He didn’t know why he was so scared, except he also totally did. He really, really wanted to make this work with Stiles, so everything felt terrifying. He didn’t want to fuck any of it up. 

Stiles ordered the chicken Alfredo, and Derek got ravioli. They ended up sharing when the food arrived, which hadn’t been what Derek expected, but he wasn’t mad about it. It was kind of nice being able to have two different things. 

He didn’t want a dessert, but Stiles ordered some cheesecake and Derek took the bite that was offered to him. 

“Not a dessert guy?” Stiles asked as he took another bite. 

“Not really a sweet things kind of guy,” Derek admitted. 

“Ah, that explains the hot chocolate.” 

Derek frowned at that, not understanding, and Stiles pointed his fork at him while explaining their first encounter this winter. Derek didn’t really remember that, he mostly remembered how embarrassed he’d felt at having been standing in front of Stiles for what felt like ten years saying absolutely nothing. 

They started talking about their various interactions, and that was how Derek found out Stiles didn’t remember how humiliating their first meeting had been. Stiles insisted he’d been too distracted by Derek to think about anything else that had happened, which was funny considering Derek’s entire embarrassing ordeal had legitimately been because of how attractive Stiles was. 

They finished off their meals reminiscing about the past four years, and when the bill came, Derek had to wrestle it out of Stiles’ hands. They got a few odd looks from the neighbouring tables, but Derek didn’t care. He was the one to invite Stiles out, so he was the one paying. 

Stiles wasn’t happy about it, insisting he should’ve at least paid for dessert since Derek hadn’t gotten any, but he didn’t care about that. He just told Stiles he could pay when they went out next time, and was somewhat relieved at how excited Stiles was. 

Derek was pretty sure he was more excited about the next time part of that statement rather than the payment part. 

It had started to snow again while they were eating, so there was a light dusting of white on the car when they reached it. Derek used his snow brush to clear off the windows and Stiles used the sleeve of his jacket to clear off the top of the car, even though Derek told him not to bother. 

“You’re supposed to clear off all the snow,” Stiles argued as they worked. “It flies off the top of the car and can hit other cars behind you, which could obstruct their view of the road and cause an accident.” 

“I never actually thought of that,” Derek admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever cleared off my whole car, I usually just do the windows.” 

“Well now you know,” Stiles said, offering him a smile over the top of the car. 

They got done clearing it off relatively quickly and back in the warmth of it moments later. Derek was, once again, irrationally worried they’d have nothing to talk about for the long drive back since they’d already spent hours talking, but it went by just as easily as dinner had. Stiles had really liked the ravioli and said he wanted to try replicating it one day. 

Derek was all for that, it had been delicious. 

When they crossed back into Beacon Hills, Derek drove Stiles home and stopped the car at the curb, the house dark and his dad’s cruiser gone. Stiles unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to smile at Derek. 

“This was fun. Thanks for taking me out, even if the ice skating was terrifying, at first.” 

“I’m glad you stuck to it and didn’t just give up right away,” Derek admitted. 

“Yeah, well, gotta get out of our comfort zones every now and then, right?” Stiles punched him lightly in the shoulder and Derek snorted. 

Then they sat there for a few seconds. Derek didn’t want Stiles to leave, but he didn’t know how to ask him to stay. Their night was over, and Stiles needed to work tomorrow so he probably needed to get to bed soon. 

Though knowing him, he probably wouldn’t, and would end up texting Derek in an hour to rant about something that happened in the book he was reading. Stiles was funny that way. 

“Okay, so is it like—weird of me to ask if we can, you know...” He trailed off, but motioned between the two of them with one hand. 

Derek’s heart immediately started pounding again. It was absolutely what he wanted, but he’d been too nervous to go for it, and hadn’t figured Stiles would be so blunt about it. 

He should’ve known better, Stiles seemed pretty blunt in general. 

“It’s not weird,” Derek said quickly. “It’s not—I just don’t... How do we, uh...?” 

Stiles rolled his eyes, but not in a mean way. More like he wished Derek didn’t always think the worst of any situation where he was involved. 

“You’re the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met,” Stiles informed him, then shifted in his seat so he could lean over and grab Derek’s face in both hands. Stiles pulled him in, and kissed him. 

Somehow, it still shocked him. He didn’t know why, wasn’t like he didn’t know the kiss was coming. Probably more because a part of his brain was still stuck in the past, and the years spent staring longingly at Stiles from a distance. To finally be here, like this, with him, was surreal. 

Stiles was everything he’d hoped he’d be, and then some, so to know that he had him, that Stiles liked him just as much as Derek did him, was still a lot to process. 

When Stiles started to pull back, Derek reached out with one hand to bury it in his hair and kissed him harder. Stiles had surprisingly soft lips, and he opened his mouth to Derek’s tongue when he silently asked for entry. 

Kissing Stiles was everything he’d thought it would be, and he couldn’t believe he’d waited four years for this.

The kiss lasted half a second and ten thousand years at the same time. It felt too short, but definitely wasn’t, and when they finally pulled apart, he felt Stiles’ gasp against his lips, the two of them still close enough to be breathing the same air. 

“Finally,” Derek admitted softly. 

Stiles just laughed, and then leaned forward to kiss him again. 

Derek was pretty sure Stiles was not going to get enough sleep tonight. 

“Dad? Dad.” Stiles patted at his father’s back a few times, feeling like he was being crushed. “Dad, I have to go. Dad.” 

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t matter how many times he said this, his dad didn’t loosen his grip, hugging him tightly enough to almost hurt. It had been like this at the very beginning of the year, too. Stiles was sure his dad would get used to it by next fall, but it seemed he still wasn’t ready to let his son go without a fuss. 

Stiles kind of knew where he was coming from. After all, it was hard leaving his dad behind as well. They’d always been together, the two of them, and while Stiles wouldn’t admit it to his dad, he’d definitely let a few tears fall on his way to his gate last August. 

This time around was easier for him because he knew he was coming back. And besides, he talked to his dad basically every day. 

It still took him an additional five minutes to convince his dad to let him go, and even then, the man gripped his shoulders tightly while staring at him, eyes wet, and Stiles made the mistake of saying he’d see him soon. It was a mistake only because it set his dad off and the man crushed him into a hug again. 

“Okay, dad,” Stiles insisted, patting his back a bit more insistently. “I really have to go, it’ll take forever to get through security.”

When his dad released him this time, he stepped back fully, which meant Stiles could actually get out of reach. He wanted to stay there hugging his dad as much as his dad wanted to stay there hugging him, but the problem was he had to go! 

He slapped his dad in the arm lightly, smiled, and told him he’d text him once he landed. His dad managed a nod, still looking like a wreck, but he let Stiles walk away this time, moving towards the agent who was manning the beginning of the line leading into security. 

Handing over his boarding pass—and passport, since he had one tucked into the other—the agent looked it over briefly, then handed them back and waved him through. Stiles joined the line of travellers, letting all the various noises wash over him without paying them too much attention. 

Security was the worst part of any trip, in his opinion, even though he knew it was necessary. It was just so slow, even though everyone was always being rushed. Stiles had to take off his shoes and put all his electronics in one bucket, his bag in another, and his laptop in yet another. He made it through before his things, and somehow his electronics came through before his shoes or bag, so he had to wait for those to come out before he could even do anything. 

Then his laptop and shoes came out at the same time, and he was struggling back into his shoes as his bag finally showed up, so he had to rush to get all his shit back where it needed to be while still holding one shoe and having other people standing around waiting impatiently for him to move. 

He got his bag closed and just walked away wearing one shoe, the other still in his hand. As he moved towards the left where his gate was, he found an amused looking Derek waiting for him on a row of seats against the far window. 

“You just sat there and watched me struggle like that?” Stiles demanded, tossing his bag down onto the seat beside Derek, and then hopping on one foot to get his other shoe on. The fact that it would be easier to put it on if he was sitting down was not lost on him, but he’d already committed to this so now he was stuck with it. 

“You were doing fine on your own,” Derek said, like an asshole. 

Stiles finally got his shoe on and slammed his foot down on the ground, shifting his foot back and forth to get the back part of it to settle properly, then reached down for his bag. 

“Ready?” 

“I was ready ten minutes ago, you’re the one holding us up.” 

“In my defence, that was dad’s fault.” 

Derek snorted, but seemed to understand, probably because his own family had reacted similarly. 

Laura had left two days ago, and Cora wasn’t set to leave until the following week, so at least the Hales were losing their children in a somewhat staggered fashion. 

It was pure coincidence that Derek and Stiles happened to be leaving at almost the same time on the exact same day. They weren’t on the same flight, considering they weren’t heading in the same direction, but when they’d been talking about their departures the day after their first official date, they realized they were going to be stuck at the airport at the same time. It made sense to meet up and hang out until they both had to go. 

They’d elected to meet up past security because it meant both of them could suffer through their parents in peace, and besides, Stiles wouldn’t have wanted to rush his farewell with his dad. Derek probably felt the same way, so it was better for them to have met up after they’d said their goodbyes. 

Derek stood, grabbing his own carry-on bag, which was much smaller than Stiles’. He pulled it over his shoulder and the two of them headed down the walkway towards all the food, shops and gates. 

“What gate are you at?” Derek asked as Stiles sniffed the air towards the left. He was pretty sure that was the sweet, sweet smell of grease, and he was hungry. 

“A-twelve. You?” 

“B-twenty-seven.” 

Stiles grunted, because it meant they were in different areas of the airport. Still not super far from each other, it just meant they’d have to linger somewhere in the middle so they could both get to their gates quickly if something changed. 

Their flights both seemed to be on time though, based on the board they passed, so Stiles grabbed at Derek’s shirt and tugged him once in silent request, the two of them heading into one of the small shops that was selling snacks. 

Derek didn’t seem impressed, insisting airports always overpriced things, but Stiles didn’t let that stop him from buying two small bags of chips and a root beer. Derek didn’t buy anything, and just stood beside Stiles, judging him as he paid for the overpriced items. 

They went back out to continue walking along, making their way slowly to Stiles’ gate first to check out where it was, and then backtracking to go down another long walkway towards Derek’s. 

When they could ascertain where the middle was, they went to find a place to eat in that general vicinity, and grabbed themselves a table near the exit of the small food court. Stiles wanted to people watch, and it was more fun to do that with the people walking past as opposed to the ones stuffing their faces. 

It felt weirdly comfortable to be sitting there, eating a burger and watching people walk by while Derek did the same. Considering they’d only really known each other for just over a week, Stiles felt confident about their relationship. It would be weird to go back to school with a long-distance boyfriend, but it was absolutely what he wanted, and so did Derek. They’d make it work, but it’d be hard. 

“So what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get back to school?” Stiles asked, turning back to Derek and shoving another bite of his burger into his mouth. 

“Sleep, probably.” Derek shrugged. “My flight is landing in the middle of the night, and it’ll probably take me a while to get a cab back to my dorm. I have class first thing the day after tomorrow, so I need to get back on a schedule basically right away.” 

“Sucks,” Stiles said sympathetically. “My first class back is an evening class, so I’ve got all day to sleep.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Derek asked. 

“My buddies and I have plans to go out. Apparently one of them broke up with his girlfriend over the holidays, so he’s pretty bummed and wants to drink away his sorrows. The other two are single, so they never pass up the opportunity to go out and meet people.” 

“And what about you?” Derek somehow managed to look both amused and nervous at the same time, it was kind of adorable. “Are you going to meet people?” 

“Sure, I like making new friends.” Stiles grinned at him, but didn’t let Derek’s weird insecurity catch up with him and continued with, “But I’m gonna have to spill the beans right at the outset that I’m taken. It’s probably gonna be awkward, considering my one friend just broke up with his girlfriend, and I’m coming back with a boyfriend but well, such is life.” He shrugged. “They’re probably gonna go crazy when they find out it’s you.” 

“You’ve told them about me?” Derek asked, surprised. 

Stiles kicked him lightly under the table. “Yeah man, I’ve been pining for years, you think I wasn’t going to share with anyone who would listen? I am like, the gold medalist of complaining.” 

Derek snorted at that, but admitted, “I’ve told some of my friends about you, too. Now that you mention it, it will be interesting to see their reactions when they find out I’m dating you now.” 

“The universe has a funny sense of humour,” Stiles insisted, taking another bite of his food. 

They continued their meals in amiable chatter, then threw their trash out and went back to wandering around while they spoke. Stiles’ flight was leaving first, so boarding was called for it before Derek’s was. They headed back in his gate’s general direction, but didn’t venture all the way down since Derek’s was likely to be called in a few minutes as well. 

“This is it,” Stiles said, turning to Derek and smiling slightly. “Please don’t burst into tears like dad did, I can only handle one crier a day.” 

“I’ll try to resist the temptation,” Derek said dryly and Stiles grinned. 

It slowly slid off his face at the realization that... he really was leaving Derek. They were dating, but it wasn’t like they’d been together for very long—literally like, four days—so a part of him worried that maybe this wouldn’t work out. He wanted it to though, so he was willing to try. 

“You’re coming back for summer, right?” Stiles confirmed, even though he’d already asked this question numerous times. 

“Yes, Stiles. I’m coming back for summer.” 

“Good.” He glanced down the long walkway leading towards his gate and winced. He really should go, since they’d already called boarding and it was down closer to the end. He couldn’t afford to miss his flight. “Um, I’ll text you. When I land, I mean. Though you’ll be landing later than me, so I guess you’ll see it when you do.” 

“I will text you back to confirm I’ve landed too,” Derek promised, smiling a little. Stiles never got tired of seeing him smile, he’d spent four years with only the scowl so any different expression on Derek’s face was a nice change. 

“Is it weird to say I’ll miss you?” Stiles asked. 

Derek snorted. “No, Stiles, it’s not weird. I missed you every time I left, even though we weren’t even friends back then.” 

“True.” Stiles glanced back again. He really did have to go, even though he didn’t want to. “Well, I should header.” He thumbed over his shoulder, turning back to Derek. 

“Yeah.” Derek didn’t look any happier about this than he did. “Have a safe flight.” 

“You too.” Stiles leaned in and kissed him. It was a short peck, just a brush of lips, but when he pulled back and started to turn, Derek grabbed for his wrist and yanked him back in, his other hand moving up to his cheek and kissing him properly. 

It made sense, this was the last time they’d be able to do this for months, so Stiles let Derek take him apart without even trying, and let out a sharp exhale when Derek pulled away, Stiles’ bottom lip trapped between his teeth for a few seconds before he released it. 

“Bye,” Derek said. 

“Bye,” Stiles managed to choke out, then he turned and practically bolted down the walkway. 

He was worried if he didn’t get to his gate now, he never would. It was so hard splitting away from someone he’s had a crush on for four years after having finally had a taste of him, so he didn’t want to test his willpower right now. 

Boarding was still in full swing by the time he reached his gate, and he was still waiting in line to get on the plane when he heard boarding for Derek’s flight being called. It seemed to take an eternity to finally board and get to his seat. He was sitting beside another guy who looked about a year or so older than him, so at least he wasn’t next to a grumpy old man like he had been on his way home. 

The guy said hi to him, but that was it, so Stiles figured he wasn’t much of a talker, which was fine. He just pulled his book out of his bag and then kicked it under the seat in front of him, ignoring that he had his laptop in there and probably shouldn’t be kicking it. 

He read until the plane taxied to the runway, then put his book down to stare out the window as it ramped up speed and was finally airborne. He stared down at the ground below them as they ascended, all the way until they were too high up into the clouds and he couldn’t see anything anymore. 

Stiles wasn’t worried, not really. He knew he was coming back in a few months, and things would be okay. 

He and Derek would pick right back up where they left off. 

One Year Later.

When Derek’s alarm went off much too early for his first day of his last ever winter vacation, the only reason he didn’t groan and turn it off to go back to sleep was because he knew what day it was. 

On top of being his first day of vacation, it was also his first day back, his flight having landed at close to midnight. He hadn’t gotten in until after one, and was pretty sure it was closer to two by the time he finally fell onto his bed. Having his alarm ringing at nine in the morning was hell, but considering who he had waiting for him, he didn’t linger. 

Sitting up, he turned his alarm off, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and forced himself out of bed. He yawned so widely on his way to the bathroom that his jaw cracked, and disappeared into it to get ready for the day. Laura had just exited her room as Derek was leaving the bathroom and they traded spots, his sister barely managing a good morning with how tired she clearly was. 

Derek didn’t stick around to wait on her, he just changed out quickly, grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, and then hurried down the stairs. He greeted his parents in the kitchen, kissing his mother’s cheek as she motioned his breakfast sandwich rollups, which were all ready to go. 

“Thanks mum.” 

“Tell Stiles we say hi,” she said with a fond smile. He smiled back and nodded, grabbing his breakfast and heading for the door. 

His parents—and sisters—had gotten to know Stiles fairly well over the summer, considering how much time he and Derek had spent together. Derek himself felt pretty comfortable with the sheriff now, because he’d been around Stiles’ place more than once while the man was between shifts. 

Coming home to Stiles this past summer had been the most amazing feeling, and Derek had found it almost harder than last winter when they’d finally parted ways to head back to school in September. But now, it was winter break, Derek’s last one since he was in his final year of university, and all he had waiting for him this entire vacation was Stiles. 

It sucked he’d be working most days, but that was okay. Derek could still spend time with him, they just wouldn’t be able to hang out as easily if there were a lot of customers. He didn’t care though, because any time with Stiles was still a good time. 

Climbing into the Camaro while unwrapping one of his sandwich rollups, he looked over his shoulder for half a second to make sure his skates were still in the back—they were, he’d put them there at the end of summer before heading off to university again—and then started the car. 

Pulling out of the drive, he made his way slowly through town towards the Preserve, feeling excitement coursing through him. He’d been texting with Stiles last night when he’d landed, his boyfriend still awake because he still sucked at actually getting a decent amount of sleep, and Derek had confirmed he would be at the lake bright and early today. No later than nine-thirty, which was why he’d been rushing to get out of the house. 

The coffee pop-up usually got set up a little after eight, when the sun was just starting to brighten the sky enough that lights weren’t needed anymore, so he knew Stiles had already been there for well over an hour. He was so excited to see him he kind of wanted to speed. The only reason he didn’t was because the last thing he needed was to get pulled over by his boyfriend’s dad. 

Making it to the Preserve, he got caught in the usual long line of cars waiting for entry, but he wasn’t worried. It was early enough he knew he’d get in and by the time he reached the front, he was directed towards the second lot, proving he was still well within the earlier visitors range. 

Once he’d parked his car, he climbed out and grabbed his skates, phone in one hand as he texted Boyd to ask if he was coming around today. He didn’t know what the plan was with him, but he assumed Boyd would do the same as him and spend the day out there so he could be close to Erica. 

Laura always teased Derek and Stiles for being nauseatingly adorable, but the two of them had nothing on Boyd and Erica. Derek was pretty sure they were going to get married before long, the two of them clicked like nothing he’d ever seen before. 

Well, aside from maybe how well he’d clicked with Stiles, but still. He was willing to bet money Boyd had actually beaten him out to the lake this morning. Hell, maybe he’d helped Stiles and Erica set up. Derek would’ve offered, but his flight had come in so late he was already exhausted and being up this early was hard enough.

He was definitely going to need coffee. 

Walking quickly through the trees, he followed the path and the other people moving easily into the Preserve towards the frozen lake. Once he cleared the trees, his eyes immediately sought out the coffee stand, smile on his lips, and he’d just taken a step towards it when he paused. 

There were two people manning it, like there always was, but they weren’t who he was expecting to see. He didn’t recognize either of them, and he had half a second to panic and wonder if Stiles had actually been fucking with him and bailed when someone got right into his personal space and he felt lips at his ear. 

“Boo.” 

Derek jerked slightly, but he didn’t get far, since Stiles had wrapped his arms around his neck when he’d ambushed him. He just laughed at Derek’s startled expression and kissed the corner of his mouth, since it was all he could reach from his position. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, surprised. “You’re not working?” 

“Nah, mama Reyes showed Erica and I pity since she knew we were both eager to see our boyfriends. She gave us the first three days off, so we’ve got until Monday to do whatever before we have to take over.” Stiles motioned towards the lake, and Derek didn’t understand at first, but then he caught sight of Boyd on the ice, both arms wrapped around Erica’s middle as she laughed hysterically at something or another. Boyd looked happy, and Derek couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his face. It turned into a laugh when Boyd’s positioning made the two of them fall, but Erica didn’t seem to mind, laughing even harder. 

“I’m glad Mrs. Reyes understands your needs,” Derek said, smirking at him. 

Stiles grinned almost lecherously and gave Derek a very slow once over. It’d have been creepy coming from anyone else, but Stiles had seen him naked more than once, and vice versa, so it just looked ridiculous instead. “Oh, I have many needs when it comes to you, Derek Hale.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“You’re the one dating me, what’s that make you?” 

“A bigger idiot, probably.” 

Stiles scoffed, but he kissed Derek’s cheek anyway before releasing him, grabbing for his hand instead. He dragged him towards the lake, but Derek tugged to stop him and detoured to get a much needed cup of coffee. He got it for free, because he had Stiles with him, even though he tried to pay. The guy manning the till waved him off and insisted Mrs. Reyes would kill him if he took Derek’s money, so Derek just thanked him and turned away with Stiles. 

He assumed they’d be heading out to do something in town, but when he motioned the trees to ask if they were leaving, Stiles shook his head and dragged Derek towards the ice instead. That kind of surprised him, because he didn’t think Stiles would want to skate around so many people he knew. 

“We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable,” Derek said as Stiles dropped a bag down by the edge. “I only came here for you, you know.” 

“I know,” Stiles said, and bent down to unlace his boots. “But I want to skate here with you. I’ve never been able to before, and I think it’ll be fun.” 

Derek watched him until he opened his bag, and was surprised to find a pair of skates, his gaze shooting back up to Stiles’ face from the bag. His boyfriend was giving him a small, somewhat embarrassed smile that was so unlike Stiles it made him look more attractive than usual. 

“I made friendly with a girl in one of my classes who’s a competitive figure skater,” Stiles said with a half shrug, trying not to look embarrassed even though Derek could tell he was. “She helped teach me how to skate the past two semesters. I also met like, half the hockey team at a party and they basically adopted me so most of the team helped me out as well. I’m never going to be as good as them, or probably you, but I can skate pretty well now.” 

Hearing all that was surprising to Derek, because he hadn’t honestly thought Stiles had liked skating that much when he’d taken him to the rink. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly. 

“I know. But I wanted to. You said you weren’t really big on skating, but you looked happy when we were at the rink. I just figured I was right and it’s more fun when you’re skating with someone else.” He smiled up at Derek, one skate already on and half-done up. “I mean, Boyd and Erica seem to be having a good time, so I must be at least a little right.” 

Derek glanced over at them, and saw they were holding hands now while skating around the lake. Boyd nodded to him in greeting as they passed by and Derek half-raised one hand in acknowledgement. 

“So you learned to skate,” Derek said, looking back down at Stiles, “so I wouldn’t have to skate alone?” 

“Mostly,” Stiles admitted. “But also because it gives me an excuse to hold your hand.” 

Derek snorted. “You can hold my hand whenever you want.” 

“It’s more fun on the ice,” Stiles argued, having tugged on his second skate. 

Shaking his head, Derek obediently dropped his bag and then set his coffee down by the edge, making sure it was dug deep into the snow to not tip over. He was still doing up his skates by the time Stiles was done, and he watched as his boyfriend stepped out onto the lake and turned around, skating backwards a bit with a grin on his face. 

“You coming, or what?” 

“I feel like you’re going to show off now that you know all those fancy tricks your friends taught you,” Derek called after him. 

Stiles just laughed and faced forward, moving to do a slow lap of the lake on his own while Derek finished up. Once he had his skates done up, he closed his bag and moved it closer to Stiles’, then stood and bent to grab his coffee. 

He waited for Stiles to circle back around to him again before stepping out onto the ice, taking Stiles’ hand with his free one, and smiling at him as they skated. Stiles beamed back, then slowed their pace a little so they were meandering along. 

Derek didn’t mind, he wasn’t really there for the skating anyway.

He tightened his grip on Stiles’ hand, leaned over to kiss his temple, and continued their slow circle around the large frozen body of water with all the other people out in the cold with them. 

Maybe he didn’t hate skating so much after all. It just depended on the person he did it with. 

END.